Thunderbolt

The trip continues... When my grandfather passed away in 1992, we brought many of his possessions back from Sarasota, Florida to our house in North Olmsted. At some point during the summer of '92, my siblings and I went through many of these things and were allowed to take some for ourselves. I can't recall exactly what I claimed, save for two items. The first was a yellow ceramic mug with peace symbols painted in rows that went all the way around the mug. I still use that mug and keep it on my work desk for coffee in the morning. The other item was a black photo album. The pictures contained within that album document a cross country trip taken in 1915 by the Eagle Boosters Club, an organization from Cleveland, OH that my great grandfather, Frank Malchus, was a member of. The pictures, 226 in all, are a fading, fascinating document of a time long ago. Here are those pictures, in order from the book, with the original captions written below. I hope you enjoy them. 6. Calvary ...

This year I have no real interest in the Super Bowl except for Springsteen and the Band. I hope that they do play one of the new songs, if only to prove the naysayers wrong and to show how well those songs will hold up in the set lists. It's been a rough week and I hope that the Boss is able to inspire us and the nation. At a time when everyone I know seems to be struggling, it will be nice to hear the words that have kept me going for so many years. I cleaned the office today and that is always a depressing chore. It's not the cleaning but having to sift through the pages and pages of unrealized story ideas. It's tough piling up 20 years worth of material and saying to yourself, "I may never write that one." That said, I have three or four projects that I really must write, in some form, within the next two years. One is a romantic comedy for Julie based on an idea that she gave me. The second is something I want to call "Cuyahoga" which draws o...

When my grandfather passed away in 1992, we brought many of his possessions back from Sarasota, Florida to our house in North Olmsted. At some point during the summer of '92, my siblings and I went through many of these things and were allowed to take some for ourselves. I can't recall exactly what I claimed, save for two items. The first was a yellow ceramic mug with peace symbols painted in rows that went all the way around the mug. I still use that mug and keep it on my work desk for coffee in the morning. The other item was a black photo album. The pictures contained within that album document a cross country trip taken in 1915 by the Eagle Boosters Club, an organization from Cleveland, OH that my great grandfather, Frank Malchus, was a member of. The pictures, 226 in all, are a fading, fascinating document of a time long ago. Here are those pictures, in order from the book, with the original captions written below. I hope you enjoy them. 1. The Eagle Boosters' arriva...

I miss our newspaper. Just before the holidays I cancelled our subscription to the LA Times for budgetary reasons. I know we can get all of the news that's fit to read over the Internet, but I miss having the morning paper waiting for me and having something to read while I slurp down bowls of cereal before my morning shower. What I miss most is watching Sophie looking up the weather and baseball scores. Our mornings feel a little empty without this ritual. Baseball season is several months away. Hopefully I can sell a script or something before April and we can start up our newspaper deliveries again.

Watched "The Wrestler" tonight, starring Mickey Rourke in a tender performance as a man who knows only one thing and he lets that thing, wrestling, control his life. Even after he is told to give up the sport (because of a heart attack) he dreams of the ring and the life he had. Rourke is heartbreaking and funny and reminds us what a great actor he can be. As much as I loved his performance, I was just as impressed with Marisa Tomei as the love interest. This was the first role I've seen her in in a long time that felt real; natural. The script had all the hallmarks of a cliched "Rocky" type movie (stripper with a heart of gold, abandoned daughter who hates her long lost dad), but the writer and director Darren Aronofsky used those cliches as starting points and tried to take the story in a different direction than what you'd expect. This is a great movie. And it had Springsteen's sensational title song that plays over the end credits.

Watching Taylor Swift tonight on Saturday Night Live, I was distracted by the bass player gyrating behind her. I'm sorry, I know you're into the music, but it's not your job to take the focus of the musical number away from the cute teenager singing her heartbreak song on television. Ever since Flea became a household name, bass players in bands have decided that they, too, must act like lead bass player in their bands. Sorry, but there's only one Flea. Give it up wannabe's. Tony Kanal, sure, he's an integral part his band, but some session dude hired to backup Taylor Swift, give me a break. Bring back the days of Mario Cipollina and Danny Klein when the bass players stood in the back, looked cool, usually with a cigarette dangling from the mouth (or in the case of Duck Dunn, a pipe). You don't see drummers going all wild behind their kits, do ya?

The day is done and I'm about to head to bed. It's been an emotional 12 hours as we've been packing and saying goodbye to relatives. However, despite how busy I've been, I need to take a moment to say Happy Birthday to my baby girl who turns 10 today. Anyone who tells you that time flies by when you have kids isn't lying. I look at our daughter and I see an incredible human being who is maturing and becoming brighter everyday. I look forward to what the next ten years brings and what she accomplishes in that time. Happy Birthday, Sophie. Love, Dad