Chasing Windmills

Having arrived back home, I haven't been so moved to post on the old blog for reasons of general hum-drummery. But as of yesterday, I heard unofficial news from one of the professors on the admissions committee that may application has been approved. So in the forthcoming weeks I should hear final word, and then if my house can sell in time (here's hoping!), I will be off to study English Literature in Madrid, Spain this October. Yes, you read that right. It will be English literature in Spain. Let's all just enjoy the irony together, now shall we?

Among the many things that I learned on my travels in the last few months of 2007 is that I want to teach, and to do it at the college level. So this means back to school for me. Truth be told, I've been wanting to be back in school since I got out back in the day. So having amassed vast quantities of life experience, I figure it is now high-time to hide it all back in the classroom. The good news is that if everything goes according to plan, I'll graduate in a decade or less and continue on with the whole "working" thing as a college professor.

For those of you wondering how English Literature fits into the picture, I will take 2 years to get 2 masters degrees in it and use the time also to decide on a course of study for my PhD. At the moment, it's a toss-up between Literature, Religious Studies, and Philosophy. Anyone caring to weigh with an opinion will be given odds accordingly.

If you are the sort with an affinity for details, the program's website (through Saint Louis University--yes, in Spain. I know, it's even more confusing) can be found here. The location of the campus can be found here. And the good news about specialized school supplies can be found here.

Viva la España!

iWitness: The Kirkwood City Hall Shooting

Inside my second favorite coffee shop, I was working on my computer when a bald man burst through the doors right in front of me and yelled to the entire room, "You better lock the doors, someone just shot some people across the street!"

At first nothing happened. No one really knew what to make of this guy. He said it again and explained a little more, "You'd better lock the doors! A man just shot the mayor and a bunch of other people in a city council meeting across the street." Now it started to sink in. Everyone in Kaldi's Coffee Shop scurried to the back as a barista locked the doors. The view out the large front windows was an eery quiet, but picturesque view of Kirkwood City Hall.

Some people ran out the back door and left, but most people huddled together in the back corner, each talking on a cell phone held in trembling hands. Books, computers, coats and purses were all left sitting on the front tables as we watched the first flashing red and blue lights come on the scene.

By this time a few other people had straggled in, quivering and telling of a man named "Cookie" who walked in to the council meeting and said he wanted justice before opening fire. No one knew what happened after that because the people who were in the City Hall meeting hit the ground and scrambled out to save their lives. But someone remembered seeing a police officer, the mayor and several others get shot. A woman in a red sweater said she was sitting right next to one of the victims in the meeting.

Feeling a little braver with the minutes that had passed, myself and a few others ventured toward the front windows. Police cars were everywhere. Police officers were everywhere--many of them with large rifles, laying prone and trained on the building. The first ambulance arrived but parked a short ways down the block; no one got out.

Inside the coffee shop, several people with computers started checking various news websites for more information. Only campaign headlines and other media knick-knack. A man in a bullet-proof vest approached the door and I let him in. "Keep the door locked, stay inside and don't let anyone in," he commanded. We all scurried into the back corner again.

More cell phone calls. More web scouring. More nervous waiting. Police now had yellow tape around City Hall. They seemed a bit more relaxed. The rifles were casually pointed in the air or dangling at their sides now. A barista turned on a television hanging in the corner. After a few minutes of reality TV, two news anchors interrupted the regularly scheduled broadcast to inform us of a developing story out the front door.

Information was scarce and generic. We waited inside with doors locked and watched as local news updated their websites with increasing information. Meanwhile, someone is telling of how someone told them that someone heard the gunman was still loose. Another heard he was dead. Another heard the mayor was dead. Another heard two police officers were dead. Someone mentioned something about Imo's Pizza and a collapsed man with a bullet wound. The voice of the barista came over the speakers and said that no one was allowed to leave.

As reporters were seen strolling and ambulances leaving, we all assumed the drama might be coming to an end. The two news anchors now had a bit more information, as did their respective websites: the gunman was dead. Just then the barista spoke again to the room. "We have just received word from the police that you all may now leave. You are welcome to stay until you feel safe, but if you do leave, please do not go out alone. Go in pairs and please be careful.

Some people started gathering their things, others traded rumors. The regularly scheduled broadcast remained obscured by the increasing faces of on-site reporters repeating all the same information. I looked out the front windows and saw them standing in front of cameras and holding microphones.

As I left, the scene in the plaza was surreal. I've never seen so many police cars. I've never seen so many reporters. I've never seen so many news vans, their network logo emblazoned on the side and little transmitting dish atop the 50-foot mast. Photographers with backpacks, long hair and long lenses stopped every three steps for another shot. More reporters stood in front of powerless cameras as technicians rushed to get everything plugged in. Everyone was being interviewed. Everyone was interviewing.

The tragedy that gave way to terror now gave way to a media torrent. Most of us who spent that last two hours locked behind glass doors for safety just wanted to go home. Some opinionated residents had come out on the street to voice their perspective on local politics and this or that public official who caused this tragedy. The voice of a nearby boisterous local grinding his axe is grating and hollow.

Driving home--and glad to do it--I have to wonder what drives a man to kill like this. Why so angry and why so violent? Why in this community again? And is there even anything anyone could have done?

Happy Will Smith Day

Dateline: December 10th, 2007 - Hollywood, CA

With a tense excitement, hundreds of people line Hollywood Boulevard to pay homage to one of the greats. We now have confirmation of his greatness because today Will Smith's hands and feet will be immortalized in the cement sidewalk of Grauman's Chinese Theater.

Only the Hollywood A-list is allowed in the near proximity of the honoree, so I waited with the masses along the opposite side of the street. All's quiet on the southern front before Mr. Smith arrives. Each position this side of the barricade is guarded carefully for the view it affords. But at the moment there's nothing much to see--no stars here.

Then someone in the crowd starts yelling, "Tom! Tom! Tom!" The vocalist is joined by a handful of others, all shouting in choreographed unison. Following brief confusion, the pedestrian crowd realizes they are yelling toward Tom Cruise who has matriculated into the crowd across the street. As you can see from the 12-times zoomed pictures, these starry-eyed observers have a finely honed skill for picking out a celebrity at 500 paces. But never once did they succeed in getting Mr. Cruise to acknowledge their bellows.

Excitement peaked as a large, black SUV pulled up in the reserved space along the curb. No limo for this modest actor. The crowd cheers. Everyone is leaning over the strangers next to them to see around the vehicle and glimpse their first sight of the star. The deep amplified voice of the MC says nothing important, but in just the right ways to make everyone even more excited. The door opens, the crowd cheers, and out comes a small dog. The SUV drives away.

No one is really quite sure what happened, but disappointment is unanimous. Was this a joke? That Will Smith--he's such a kidder. But wait, here comes an identical SUV: sleek, black and oh-so-LA. Again the MC states the obvious with that professionally honed, booming voice. In mindless Hollywood fashion, the screaming continues. This time, it's for good reason. Will Smith rockets out of the car.

Taking incredibly large steps, Mr. Smith strides across the red carpet in Olympic time. He shook a couple hands but it didn't slow him down. Greeting a few particular people before taking the stage, Will kindly acknowledges the gathered crowds with an in-character hand to the ear. Then even before saying "thank you" or anything of the sort, he cups the mic close and begins a beat box, bouncing to the rhythm and pointed a craned arm in classic rapper style. Some things never change.

The crowd is completely under the spell of this classy entertainer as he speaks. The best actors in this town gain fame in their field by talent and luck. Today Will Smith is honored for not only rising to the top of the big-screen names, but his acclaim stretches across the music industry and TV screen as well. So the MC and self proclaimed mayor of Hollywood has it easy as he lauds the praises of this honored guest.

Following a non-literary, somewhat rambling, idealistic speech where he said that he wanted to use his fame and position to "change the world," Will set foot on the wet cement. Once finished, the MC again praises Mr. Smith, but this time for his penmanship and lack of errors in signing his name. (Apparently, they set the bar pretty low for Hollywood stars.) Continuing the gratuitous adulation, the "Mayor of Hollywood" declares this the best message any star has ever left in the cement in all the history of Grauman's Chinese theater: "Change the world."

For his final act as honorary mayor of Hollywood, the MC declares that "today is Will Smith Day throughout all Hollywood." The crowds cheer and Will poses for pictures with family, friends, and other honored guests. After losing sight of the star in the crowd of now semi-ordinary people across the street, I turn and walk down the walk of fame to spend this holiday in much the usual way.

Sabrage

Did you know you can open a Champagne bottle with a sword? Or in the absence of the real thing, even a small kitchen knife will work. Watch where you point that thing!

Paying Attention

Walking home one rainy night in Hollywood, I took this sad picture on the front steps of a local church...






The very next night, I took this picture...

Hooray for Hollywood

Hollywood is quaint in ways all its own. I'm staying with an "actress" who lives right in the heart of all the action in Hollywood: just off of Hollywood Blvd. So this morning was like every other morning...

After waking up at noon (because we were out until 4am again last night), I wanted some coffee. A stone's throw out the front door and I'm walking with all the tourists along the Walk of Fame. The first Starbucks I found was way too busy, so on to the next one.

Along the way, I walk by the famous Grauman's Chinese Theater where only the most famous of Hollywood stars' handprints are set in concrete by the entrance. Next up: the Kodak Theater where many of the "Best Actor/Actress" Oscar winners have their stars. The fun thing about this little stretch is that at every hour of the day or night, you can find street performers dressed as Superheros or movies stars or some other character. This morning, Batman decided to walk with me for a bit. Yeah... we're tight. In this town, it's all about who you know.

Of course, it's often hard to tell who the real street performers are and who the crazy people are. There are many! And they can be found in much the same places: talking to no one on the streets, sneaking up behind you in line, or in Starbucks--but the street performers are usually on the other side of the counter.

So here I sit, sipping my coffee at a corner Starbucks. Across one street, the Children line up in front of a faux winter wonderland for the chance to sit on L. Ron Hubbard's lap and tell him what they want for Christmas and how much their parents are willing to donate to "the cause" for them to get it.

Across the other street is a Frederick's of Hollywood store--actually in Hollywood. Lingerie shops can be found in abundance here. This town is amazing because in Hollywood, even the store manikins have breast implants. Gotta admit: they know their market.

Hollywood To-Do List

Tourist things to do while in Hollywood:
- See the famous Hollywood sign
- Photograph a movie star against their will
- Tour a movie studio
- Write a screenplay
- Go on strike
- Get plastic surgery
- Buy some REALLY big sunglasses
- Carve my name into a blank star on the Walk of Fame
- Flake on plans with friends
- Hand prints in cement
- Buy a white Bronco; Drive it down the freeway
- Witness and/or participate in a drive-by
- Buy a house; watch it burn
- Go insane; cuss at the wind incessantly
- Convert to Scientology