| My Hero |
[Feb. 4th, 2006|03:38 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  contemplative | ] |
I filled out an application recently, and one of the questions asked was "Who is your hero and why?" So I began to think. After several moments of soul-searching, I found my answer.
While some would list a parent, relative, teacher who they look up to, or superficially, an athlete or public figure simply because they are famous. I dug deeper.
Tony Danza is my hero. On the surface, it sounds weird, but I admire him. He's America's finest entertainer. Danza is the epitimoe of doing more with less. Name another entertainer who can act in sitcoms, dramas, movies, stage plays, put on a one man song-and-dance show, play an instrument, release an album, legally perform a marriage ceremony, and host his own daytime talk show. You can't.
He's the working man's Regis Philbin, yet has a more versatile career. He's Jamie Foxx without the inflated ego and Bam Bam Bigelow-esque tattoo on the back of his head.
Danza's life in the public eye began as a boxer. When that ended, he began his climb to the top. While other boxers bit ears or designed grills in the twilight of their careers, he landed a plum role on the classic sitcom "Taxi." That was the beginning of four decades in show business and the ascention of the Danza Empire.
After "Taxi," Danza followed up with "Who's the Boss?" Another classic show, even during his misstep in the latter seasons when he got a buzz cut. "Eh oh, oh eh," and "Ey Samantda" became part of our national lexicon. Tony Micelli was a de facto womens' rights activist, making it acceptable for macho men to become housekeepers, something that was previously a female occupation in sitcoms.
In the mid and late 1990's, he finally proved the nay-sayers wrong when he took several roles in which his character wasn't named "Tony." He was nominated for an Emmy after a guest role on "The Practice." More importantly, he wooed audiences and critics alike with his roles in the Disney TV movie "The Garbage picking, Field Goal Kicking, Philadelphia Phenomenon." and feature film "Angels in the Outfield."
That alone makes a star-studded career, but he didn't stop there. Mr. Danza acted in Broadway productions, put on a one-man stage show at intimate ski lodges across the nation, and recorded an album.
In the new milleneium, Danza finally fulfilled the fantasies of millions when he donned a santa suit for his role as Tough-as-nails-criminal-with-a-soft-spot-in-his-heart Jack Clayton in the 2003 USA Network movie "Stealing Christmas." More importantly, he got to make out with Leah Thompson.
Shortly thereafter in 2004, DanzaNation rejoyced when "The Tony Danza Show," a syndicated daytime talk show starring Mr. Danza, began to air. Some have said his hosting skills are relegated to him oohing and ahhing over his guests and holding a "Who's The Boss" Reunion every three weeks.
Well hey, I bet if you had Judith Light, Alyssa Milano, and the foxy old broad that played Mona as your co-workers for 8 seasons that you'd want to reunite with them as much as possible too. He'd probably organize a Taxi reunion if Danny DeVito wasn't busy tagging Rhea Pearlman and Jeff Conaway wasn't in and out of rehab and doing Celebrity Fit Club 3 with Bruce Vilanche.
This has hopefully answered the questions of those who thought my adoration of Tony Danza is unusual. Simply put, he's a man that we should all aspire to be, and an entertainer that no one will ever equal. He's a man that comes along once in a lifetime, and for that, he is my hero. |
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| My first nude live journal update |
[Nov. 27th, 2005|10:32 pm] |
Things have been interesting, yet boring, this holiday weekend. Thanks to my new laptop that was purchased on Black Friday, I have the opportunity to lie here naked in my bed and type to you about it. Seriously.
Thursday, I enjoyed the typical Thanksgiving dinner with the usual suspects. It's almost like you can take the same conversation from 1990, and replay it now, save for a few fill-in-the-blanks with what's going on in your life. When around family during holidays, there's almost a script you follow. During these times, everyone does their best to get along, so topics that could potentially offend anyone are swept under the rug, leaving only the most banal and boring subjects. I enjoy time with my family, and remeniscing about the old days is nice, but more stimulating conversation wouldn't hurt.
Friday, I woke up at 3 a.m. to prepare myself for Black Friday festivities. I would never wake up at that hour to shop, unless the deals knocked my socks off. I had to work that God-awful morning. I worked an 11 hour shift, but it wasn't that bad. The day went by fast since a constant stream of customers came to my register. The store provided pizza for us, which made lunch enjoyable. By the time my shift was supposed to be over, the managers got backed up and I stayed for an additional hour. My ability to be a team player got me a gift certificate to Quaker Steak and lube from the store's GM. That will come in handy, since I go there every so often to expand my waistline at their lunch buffet.
During work, I checked out a man named Richard Comfort. He handed me his credit card and it took everything I had inside to stop from laughing. Illiciting a half-smile for the entire time he was in my presence, I finished the job, then began laughing histerically. I had worked for several hours at that point and was just looking for something to laugh at. He truly has an awesome name. If I were him, I'd hit on women using these lines all the time:
"Hey baby, you know what you need? Dick Comfort."
"I'll give you the dick comfort."
"Are you sad? I give you comfort...Dick Comfort."
I'm pretty sure any variation you could think of would work with that name. Thinking about it now still gives me a chuckle. I'm so mature. |
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| The HAPS |
[Nov. 23rd, 2005|02:23 pm] |
So I haven't updated in like a month. That's only because not many exciting things have been going on.
Today, I had lunch with a few friends and discussed the state of our careers. Two of us are working in retail until we find something in our field, and the other is graduating from college in December with no idea of what he wants to do when he grows up. I know what I want to do, but just don't have the contacts in this area to do it, nor the money to move to a place where I have contacts.
The retail job is going all right. I have a feeling they will keep me after the holidays, but who knows? I'm putting on the old Muldowney charm to the co-workers and managers, so I think they like me. We always joke around with each other, and that's a good sign. Not that I want to stay there for much longer, but it's a source of income, and though it's not much, its still something.
My co-workers are all girls ranging in age from 16-19. I feel like an old loser working there, but some of the chicks are hot. I enjoy looking at them, even the youngins.
I finally got paid for the Hockey promotion I did in October. Seeing that check made every annoyance I put up with for those three weeks worth it. There might even be another promotion in my future. I hope, since it pays so well.
I've also been putting together ideas for a screenplay. I want to start writing again on a regular basis, and I think this is the perfect way to do it. Even if the writing completely blows, it will be a start, and gives me a chance to improve.
I can't beleive its Thanksgiving already. It seems like it was just summer. This year has flown by even faster than the last one. I'm looking forward to 2006, since the latter half of 2005 has been shitty overall. I've actually been waiting for the holidays for a while, since I've been prematurely listening to Christmas music since October.
Sorry for the non-comedic nature of this entry. I just wanted to give a quick update and put something on here since it's been a month. If you don't like it, you can eat a bowl of dick.
All my best,
Ryan |
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| Lessons Learned |
[Oct. 24th, 2005|11:17 pm] |
The past few days have been interesting. Several life lessons have been learned, and I'll take them with me wherever I go in life.
My second day of work at Best Buy was today. Thanks to both poor planning on my part, and slow drivers that would not change lanes, I was 5 minutes late for work. Never a good thing, especially at the beginning of a new job. I thought I would just be able to apologize for it and have them say "Just don't make a habit of it."
A manager there decided to take it to another level.
He introduced himself with an overly-firm handshake in an attempt at what seemed to me as intimidation.
"Where have you worked before this?" he asked.
Thinking he was simply making conversation, I told him some of my previous jobs.
"What would they say if you showed up 5 minutes late on your second day of work?"
Ambushed, I said they probably would be mad, which isn't really true, since I've been late many times before in previous jobs with nothing said.
He then chuckled and said he was just joking with me, that he's a joker, and that he understands that things happen sometimes. Funny.
Lesson #1 (Common sense): Don't show up late on your second day of work, even if it's a meaningless retail job.
Lesson #2: Passive-agressiveness is never a good way to make an impression on anyone.
My new job has given me something other than a small paycheck. It's given me even more motivation to find a professional job, as if being an unemployed graduate wasn't enough. I want to work this job for the shortest possible time. I agressively searched for jobs today as soon as I set foot in my house. I don't belong at this place. The people I've worked with so far are nice, but I need to move on as soon as possile.
Lesson #3: Be as agressive as possible when searching for jobs after college.
Lesson #4: Never piss off a member of a lesbian biker gang. You will be castrated and made to watch as your balls are used as dice in a game of craps. |
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| I'm Old. |
[Oct. 21st, 2005|02:49 pm] |
I'm getting old, and here's several reasons why.
I'll be 30 in 8 years.
I replaced the hip hop station on my radio presets with the adult contemporary station.
I stopped keeping up with current hits in 2002.
I enjoy music my grandparents listened to, like Bing Crosby and Dean Martin.
I listen to Christmas music - In October.
I yell at kids who don't know what "good music" is.
I watch "Days Of Our Lives."
I drive the speed limit.
I have laugh lines on my face.
I've yanked nostril hair that's two inches long.
I can't piss under my grandmother's porch and get away with it.
Taking a shit in public would get me arrested.
Having sex with a 17-year-old means jail time.
Thinking a 15-year-old is hot means I'm creepy.
Having sex with one means I'm a pedophile.
Professional athletes are younger than me.
Sitcoms are about people my age.
Up-and-coming celebrities are younger than me.
I've been hit on by middle-aged women.
I've had conversations with people who don't know what 90210 is.
The original Nintendo is "old school."
People I grew up with are getting married.
I'm sure there are more, but that's all I can think of now. |
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| On Goalies, Stupidity, and Other Shit |
[Oct. 20th, 2005|11:53 pm] |
Last weekend, my tenure with Molson finally ended. After three weeks of parading around bars and random city intersections touting the Canadian beer and the returning NHL, I will never have to wear the cumbersome equipment or deal with a woman who was quite possibly the stupidest person ever concieved.
Our manager, the frizzy-haired scatter-brained woman I spoke of in my last entry, was unreliable, flaky, duplicitous, and dumb-like-a-fox. She was a bitch at the worst possible times, and had the worst catch-phrases my ears have ever been subjected to. I took every item I could off of her in an attempt to make it worth my while. In all, I swiped a Molson hockey Jersey, several mugs, tee-shirts, a hat, and the largest free Frappuccino I could order from Starbucks when she was buying. I'd rather stuff a diamond necklace up my urethra than work with her again.
I turned down a job with John Robert Powers talent agency. The ad seemed interesting, so I applied online and got an interview. I had to drive downtown and wear my suit for an interview with a girl who was my age. The job was worthless. They wanted me to drive to a mall an hour away to convince parents that their child could make it as a model/actor. All that for a whopping $8/hr, plus an AWESOME BONUS! For every form I got a parent to fill out AFTER FIFTY, I got an ADDITIONAL DOLLAR. They offered me the job and I promptly declined, breaking their hearts I'm sure.
I got hired at Best Buy as a Cashier/Customer Service employee. It's good in that I will be making money again, but bad in that I am a college graduate and this is what I am relegated to. I hear that everyone's going through this, but that doesn't make it any easier to take. To go from a busy guy who was into all the media stuff at school to nothing takes a lot of getting used to. Eventually I will get back into my chosen field, but in the meantime it's frustrating.
So in the mean time, I'm going to keep looking and hope something comes up. |
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| So I got a job |
[Sep. 27th, 2005|01:32 am] |
I got a job. A job that promises to turn into nothing but a way to make a few extra bucks. A temporary job, but a money gig nonetheless. Surely it beats sitting on the computer all day. Of course, this job wasn't earned by anything I did. It was, as most jobs are, made available because if who I know.
A friend of a friend has a contact with a marketing firm and they needed people for their new promotion. He was asked to invite people he knew, specifically "good looking guys," and since I have no current source of income and obviously fit the bill, my friend suggested me.
After the initial self-esteem bost, I realized the gig was right up my alley. It deals with three of my favorite things; booze, women, and sports.
As was explained to me by a young-looking asian man, his frizzy haired underling, and a Canadian representative from Molson with a hot ass, I am to dress up in goalie attire and promote Molson beer during Penguin's games at the Mellon arena, as well as bars across the Pittsburgh region. And when I say goalie attire, I mean it. We're dressing up in full pads (adorned with the Molson logo), exactly like NHL goaltenders wear.
We are to pass out promotional items to spread the word about the beer and their new campaign "Welcome Back Hockey." Upon being told the the campaign's name,
Does anyone else wonder if they're attempting to play on the classic 70's sitcom "Welcome Back Kotter." I considered asking them, but didn't want to show them how much of a jackass I was during our first meeting.
The job lasts until October 15th. It pays well, and will hopefully allow me to meet a ton of hot girls who will do anything (and by anything I mean sleep with me) for a cheap tee-shirt from a brewing company.
Hopefully, this will lead to other similar jobs. It would be nice to have some steady income, but this will have to do for now. |
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| A New Leaf |
[Sep. 19th, 2005|10:52 pm] |
After much consideration, I've decided to retire the Xanga journal. Not that I used it a lot since August 2004, but I'm officially putting it to rest. I will never work for the PA department of education again, and I don't want to taint my xanga journal with entries not related to that job. I've turned over a new leaf, and it's time for a journal that properly reflects the leaf I have overturned.
With that said, my life hasn't been too exciting lately. I've been jobless for more than three weeks, and most of my days consist of sitting in front of the computer and searching for work on the internet. I've looked at all the sites and applied for numerous jobs.
The only company that has gotten in touch with me was 84 Lumber. After a day of golfing (something any unemployed man should do on a Monday) I felt guilty. In an effort to make myself feel better, I went online to the first company I could think of and applied for whatever job was on their website. An application was filled out for the "Inventory Manager" position. An HR representative called the next day. After realizing that the job involved nothing that I, even remotely, want to do, I told them I'd think about it. I haven't called them back.
Currently there are two jobs that I'm trying to get. One is a Part-Time Production Assistant for WPGH-53 in Pittsburgh. I saw the job posting for this and knew it was for me immediately. I have the proper training for the position and would definitely be better for it than any other schlub they'd hire.
See, my ultimate goal is to be a television writer/producer. A few things need to happen to begin this career.
1) I need to land a job in TV
2) I need to work my ass off
3) I need to move to Los Angeles
All three things will be done, hopefully this job will be my start.
Another job I might land has nothing to do with my career. It's merely a way to make some money, which, in turn, will allow me to save money so I can move across the country and uproot my life in persuit of my dreams. The job is a sales position with Best Buy. Yes, the department store Best Buy. It has taken some pride-swallowing on my part to be OK with this. After working hard and getting a college degree, it's the last place I thought I'd begin the rest of my life. I don't mind simply because the ends will justify the means. If this is what I have to do to save up a few grand, than I'll put up with it.
-----
In happier news, I do get out of the house a lot. Luckily, for the shittiness that my professional life is, my personal life is GOLD. I'm having a lot of fun and doing a lot of cool things for a guy who has no source of income.
This weekend was, quite possibly, one of the most fun weekends I've ever had. My friend Brandon got married on Saturday. Some backstory, though:
How I met Brandon is an interesting story. A few years back, Brandon, like myself, was a part of a late-night talk show on his University television station. He came on my show with Joel, who wsa the host of Brandon's show. After that, I started chatting with the both of them and we became friends. I started hanging out with Brandon after he moved to Pittsburgh, and eventually became good enough friends with him that I was invited to his wedding.
Anyway, It was an awesome time. He and his wife are a great couple. The reception was classic. Mr. and Mrs. Smoker were introduced to the crowed with the "Monday Night Football" theme song as their enterance music (which made me decide I want the "Perfect Strangers" theme song to be my intro song at my wedding).
There was an open bar. Though I probably don't need to go into more detail about what I did that night, I will. I had 8 drinks by the time dinner was over. A constant stream of White Russins and Rum-and-cokes followed. By 11 p.m., I was smashed off my ass.
I'd never been so social with people that I had never met before in my life. We all got along great. Everyone at the wedding was cool. I danced my ass off, even though I NEVER DANCE. I hate dancing. But for one night only, I was Patrick Swayzee. Besides dancing with my lovely date, I was dancing with old women, young women, hot women, fat women.
Another wonderfully innapropriate moment occurred when I told Brandon that I found his wife sexually attractive. I then followed that up with a "Seriously, she's hot." He laughed at me, but when I told my date what I said, she called me an ass and said that was not a good thing to say. I couldn't figure out what was wrong with it in my drunken stupor. For the record, there are a few worse and more inapropriate things that could have been said to a new groom.
1) Your wife has enormous boobs and I want to grab them.
2) Your wife is extremely ugly.
3) I had sex with your wife last night.
All of which would have been trumped by actually sleeping with a man's wife, but I digress.
And with that, I think this has officially been the longest journal entry I've ever written, and the longest piece I've written in months. If you're still reading this, I thank you for patronizing my drivel. |
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| Hey everyone |
[Oct. 22nd, 2004|12:34 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  tired | ] |
I did this because someone kept bugging me about it. I used to use xanga. Whatever. |
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