more episodes of ‘River City Roundup’

Under the perpetual cloud of layoffs that hover over every metro newspaper in the country, a lot of us are hard at work adding multiple feathers to our already stuffed hats. That last sentence needs an editor, I’m afraid. And the hat analogy is lame. But we continue.

I can officially say that I’m not only a web producer at pjstar.com, but also a show producer. Yes, I’ve contracted TV-itis and now shoot, edit and produce ‘River City Roundup,’ our weekly entertainment show with editor Danielle Hatch and arts reporter Gary Panetta. We’re at week seven now, a milestone I really didn’t anticipate, and I’m starting to see how much work this really is.

Although usually behind the camera, we’ve started to occasionally place me in public view. As you’ll notice in Week 7, I gamely went face to face with a giant 3D pin toy. “Keep your glasses on,” my coworkers yelled. And I did. My brain, however, turned off at the last second, and my mouth opened wide… and a fist-full of pins went into my mouth and almost down my throat. All I could think of were the multitude of little kids picking their noses and scratching their butts; all that in the back of my throat.

But damn it, I’m proud.

I usually relegate these things to my delicious feed, but this one stood out. “Her Morning Elegance,” by Israeli artist Oren Lavie.

A little background on it: the video was shot with 3225 still photos, using one camera hanging from the ceiling. It took 4 weeks prior to shooting to create a 3D computer animated storyboard as a guide for the live actors. Only 2 days of shooting were required for the actors on set. I have no information on how they keep the bed sheets so taunt.

Reminds me of side-scrolling video games… pretty brilliant stuff.

Let’s stop the March Madness hating. Right now. Sure, it’s cool to say that it’s pointless, mindless and rather silly. But what did the Greeks say at the first Olympics? At least these athletes keep their naughty bits hidden. Or maybe they got their bits snipped. “Vas Madness!,” one proclaimed.

So for the first time since grade school, I filled out a bracket and harassed a few of you to join me. You know that I’m the farthest thing from a sports junkie, leaning heavily toward some sort of archetypal lord of the nerds.  But I do love the tension inherent in sports, moments of key focus that you just can’t replicate with regularity anywhere else. When millions of eyes are on one guy jumping a foot in the air and arcing the ball 20 feet, that’s brilliant human machinery in action.

Unfortunately, any semblance of surprise has been eliminated this year by the Sweet Sixteen round. The New York Times makes mention of this fact. Part of why I did so well in my bracket at first was my nonsensical pickings of Dayton, Cleveland State and Wisconsin. But there’s still fun in watching two titans battle to the end, a show of basketball nonpareil.

Thus, I gleefully watch snippets of the tournament and enjoy seeing America’s collected attention at full force once again. This wild world wide web thing sure makes that a difficult thing to accomplish anymore. And we need a break from some of this financial mess, don’t we?

And besides, I like seeing “Ranked 7675 of all players” on my nytimes.com bracket. Go Oklahoma! (sorry, Kansas.)

I’ve returned from a hellish week in St. Louis, my friends, one full of round orange balls and the mighty ego of sports writers. As always, I’ll get to that at a later time (I promise this a lot) for now it’s time to list a bunch of random items I pulled from my complimentary St. Louis Post-Dispatch that I found outside my hotel door.

“His first two car trips resulted in carsickness and a nauseous dash to the bathroom. He hadn’t traveled in a car in 16 years.” – by Ben Preston,a former journalism student who helped free Joshua Charles Kezer

Only Illinois and Wisconsin forbid concealed weapon permits. We are a sea of tranquility here in the Land of Lincoln.

“I thought for a while that maybe I was writing songs, maybe I was writing stories, but then I found out I was writing poetry.” – STL poet Devin Johnston

examples: “Customs” – “At the sink, a business traveler memorizes one hand with the other.” Also: “Hog Island Oysters”

“Important Artifacts and Personal Property from the Collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, Including Books, Street Fashion, and Jewelry“ A new take on breakup fiction, told through an auction catalogue with dry listings and flat photos. The items take you from the start of the relationship to the bitter end. A review

“As we gleefully wander through the fortnight buildup to the NCAA’s March Madness in our annual search for an underdog we can believe in, the Missouri Valley Conference Tournament is a mandatory stop on this Cinderella star search – with good reason.” – Bryan Burwell, Post-Dispatch writer

Review of new Bonnie and Clyde book: “The real Clyde was short, skinny and nowhere so glib and handsome as Warren Beatty. The real Bonnie had a gimpy leg, drank way too much and was nowhere so pretty as Faye Dunaway.”

So the surprise visit went without a hitch, although surprises for the Geriks mean less “ohmygodwhyareyouhere” and more “Adam? I don’t understand…” A slowly-building chain reaction instead of a violent supernova.

I was a homebody most of the break, being the good son that I am: grocery store trips with my mom, picking up new suits with my dad, and watching the Oscars with my sister. We had a friendly competition on that, which I’ll address in a later urgent post.

The actual birthday party for my mom was a day early… a surprise party, but just barely. See, my mom is a twin, which ups the investigative prowess at least double (and probably triple, really) and leaves the rest of us making up lame excuses for gathering the whole extended family in one spot.

I never did settle on a great gift for my mom, but I hope the thought wasn’t lost on her. My dad and I spent nearly an entire afternoon hunting down birthday cards; my dad partial to the musical ones, and I leaned toward the nonsensical items (my card actually said “chicken butt” in it. As in, “what’s up? chicken butt.”) I think we went to three stores total, and felt pretty damn exhausted afterward.

I made time to see my good friends Steve and Camille quickly for lunch on my last day in the city. It was a BBQ joint in Old Town, a place I’ve been to at some point in my life. There’s comfort in knowing that no matter how long it’s been since we’ve last seen each other, there’s never any awkwardness. That’s friendship.

Before I left on the train again, I looked through box after box of old artifacts of my youth stored away in the closet and attic. I found a pile of letters, mostly written on hotel stationary, all addressed to me. My dad must have written me each and every business trip when I was little, usually to remind me that he missed me and that I should behave and help my mom out at home. Sometimes a random fact was thrown in about the particular locale he was visiting that trip, but the vast majority were from Reno, Nev. I dutifully date stamped each one when I received it and kept them all together. I’m glad I did.

Addendum:

As if my train ride to Kansas could be topped, I hopped back on the Southwest Chief at 3am and awoke several hours later in Kansas City to the sound of rugged German all around me. I was surrounded by the Amish, a dozen strong.

Note: most of these images were taken with a cell phone. Just so you know.

I’ve never killed anything larger than a mouse. And that was only in a house.

Sadly, this is now a blatant lie. While driving home from work at 2am, I was looking out for drunken drivers more than wayward critters. At least one, and maybe two, of the tires on my work vehicle thumped over an albino bunny rabbit that darted across the 3-lane road. He seemed to hesitate in the lane next to me before perfectly timing his or her demise.

This sort of thing happens all the time, I know, but it still gives me a generally sad and blah feeling. I’m probably not cut out for hunting.

And the kicker? The icing on the cake? Looking in my rear view mirror and seeing a few pieces fly 10 feet in the air.

Happy March!