a day at the chronicle

2006.11.26 22.34

I'm going to post something I wrote years ago in the 1995 timeframe. I gave up, obviously, but what I did write down is pretty damn funny. Read on. Updates from my time in Houston will be forthcoming, incidentally, but in the meantime please step into the DeLorean time machine and enjoy this *fictionalized* recounting of a Day In The Life of a Houston Chronicle District Office Worker.

I woke up this morning, Friday, at 8:28 A.M. After blinking my eyes several times and convincing myself that, yes, I was going to be late for work, I got up. I waived the usual shower, shave, and deodorant and moved directly into the ''hell, I'll wear that'' zone. After a hasty departure from my house, I arrived at my job location at 8:50 A.M. I hopped out of my car, put a ''gosh I've had a tough morning'' look onto my face, and proceeded towards the rear entrance of the house. To the left of the gate is a concrete dog forever standing guard against any concrete intruders who might cross its path. I shoved the dog aside and removed the house keys from the secret compartment beneath him (or her -- I can't quite tell). Using the gold key with the ridges that aren't very even, I opened the door and threw the keys back into the compartment, unceremoniously shoving the dog back over and thus completing the transaction. I walked into the house and everyone was still asleep. Good deal! I walked over to the antique telephone that's in the living room and yanked its plug out of the wall. Once accomplishing this deception, I quietly walked up the staircase and entered The Office. I gracefully floated into my usual chair and began flipping switches on the various pieces of computer equipment that were at my disposal. Logging into the Chronicle's computer involves calling it, entering a password, and then it calls you back. This causes the phones to ring in the house... but... since I disconnected the only phone which can be heard upstairs, my boss' sleep continued unabated. I fumbled around for a good 15 minutes and sized up all of the complaints that people had left on the machine. Unfortunately, one of the messages on the machine was left by myself when I first woke up. I made the decision that once I heard all of the messages that I'd have to erase the tape with the bulk eraser (a large magnet used to erase videotapes that my boss happens to keep in a box full of crap in the office closet -- whether she knows that I know about it is another matter). I decompressed 45 minutes of work into two hours. My boss groggily came into the room. ''Hello Mrs. Roper,'' I thought to myself in silence while waving her in. She was wearing a giant blue robe which closely resembled a boat tarp. She seems to enjoy wearing the blue boat tarp and I have no qualms about her covering herself to that extent. After some meaningless chat, I brought up all the high points of my morning, trying to emphasize that I was saving them from bankruptcy with my every move. She excused herself and left the room to drink several cups of coffee and a eat a large pat of butter smeared onto cheap cookies, presumably to make certain that she didn't lose any of the weight that she'd gained the previous day. I stretched and stretched my work until I ran out of it. I then turned on the cable box and TV in the office and switched from The Discovery Channel to E! in hopes that the O.J. trial would be on. I was disappointed. O.J. wouldn't start until noon. So, I picked up the telephone, called a customer that I was supposed to contact in order to confirm that, yes, they actually did order the paper. The phone just rang and rang and rang. I kept my eye on E! and held up the printout with the customer's phone number. I did this for a good 42 minutes while some poor guy's phone rang at least 500 times in the background of my thoughts. Mrs. Roper interrupted my streak at 12:26 P.M. ''It's almost time to go'' she exclaimed. ''I'm just trying to reach this customer you were concerned about'' I replied. ''Oh good!'' she managed. After a moment or two, I sighed heavily and hung up the phone. ''It must have rung at least 500 times,'' I noted. She laughed, thinking that I was joking...

i'm not lovin' it

2006.11.18 14.18

I'm sitting in the McDonald's off West Road and the Sam Houston Tollway. I was lured here by the promise of free internet access. They don't have that, but $2.95 for two hours isn't bad. I brought a giant sack of mail that I need to go through along with my laptop. There is no little park for kids to play in here. Instead, there's a tube shaped object with multicolored built-in Nintendo consoles with accompanying monitor encircling it. The outside of the store markets Free Nintendo! There's kids crowded around it staring blankly at the screen like cute little video game zombies. Kids can also play two-player on one console, so that group of kids (the two-player zombies) play split screen and yell obscenities (in Spanish) at each other. I'll take some camera phone pictures and post. What you are lucky to be missing is the bongo and flute music that has been playing endlessly over the sound system here. This music would be more appropriate in a bathroom or the elevator or while you're on hold waiting for a conference call to start. It is driving me slowly insane... except I'm so hung over from last night that I'm making an exception.


About last night... I'm here at McDonald's because I'm recovering from partying at Number's Night Club. For some reason I broke the Ancient Rules Of Mark by 1) drinking a mixed drink instead of beer and 2) smoking. I *never* smoke. I have probably smoked 110 cigarettes ever -- mostly back in college when I was hanging out with my smoker buddies. Since that time I've had girlfriends that smoked while I acquiesced. This morning I've been going through massive nicotine withdrawal. I'm fighting the constant urge to puke -- not easy when you're also sitting in McDonald's. I bought the blandest food I could think of (fries and a fish sandwich). I'm here to look into their internet access, eat bland food, go through withdrawals, and to talk about the evils of partying too hard. Once I recover, my goals this weekend are to move out of my house with the intent of renting it out. This isn't going to well given that I feel like I ate roadkill. To make matters worse, my evening was extended beyond 2 AM when I was invited to an after hours club by That Blonde Girl Wearing Light Up Wires Whose Name Escapes Me Now. The ''club'' was located in an innocent looking house nearby. The hosts were great. The spiced apple rum, however... Ugh. Want to die. I'm actually jealous of the dude who just shot himself at that hospital today.

venom in spiderman-3

2006.11.12 11.15

I'm totally exposing my Spider-Man fanboy side this weekend by posting some photos that I'll probably have to take down once the wonderful folks at Sony catch wind. In the meantime, here's some shots of Topher Grace transforming into Venom from the upcoming Sony Picture release SPIDERMAN 3.

the interview that time forgot

2006.11.11 22.11

So, I was meticulously going through YouTube results for the word ''DeLorean'' and I ran across this little gem. A guy I used to work with named Michael ''Berg'' Bergeron shot it. I have almost no recollection about it. Talk about deju vu. Or rather, the reverse of deja vu. By the way, my answer about how many cars were actually in production is a bit off. At any given time there were at least 4 cars but sometimes several more. Some were cut in parts so you could film inside, some were for stunts, some where the ''hero'' car that you'd use for close-up shots. Anyway, now you can watch a pre-2003 chubby faced me talk about my car.


Upon further investigation I've found a quick shot of myself walking by and waving to Berg in the video below. I was hoping I'd find some shots of me on my scooter. No luck. This video looks to have been shot around early 2001. Wow! I froze the frame and you can see that I'm wearing my fracture boots! So... late February 2001. I severely sprained both ankles around that time due to a series of unfortunate events. Lemony Snicket was no where to be found, oddly enough.

spiderman 3

2006.11.09 20.27

Check out the new 2.5 minute Spider-Man 3 trailer on iFilm. Looks like director Sam Raimi has topped himself again.

Update! Why do I end blog entries with a cliched phrase like ''looks like so and so has done it again!'' Gaw. I'm hoping to get back some of my personality after getting over mental after-effects from crazy hours I've been working as of late. The update isn't about how I end blog entries. Thanks to iFilm, I'm hosting the trailer right here on MarkShields.com.