My theories on the LOST finale

Hey gang, check out this blog to read about my thoughts on this week's Lost finale. It's bound to be a treat. And don't forget to click the links as you go for a more fulfilling adventure.

Yum.

**update** Robby the Robot makes his way! (i.e. new family blog)

Hello, all six of you that actually read this blog. And by read, I mean in the past tense, seeing as how I haven't posted since September.

Yikes. I guess that's the curse of a first-year law student. Luckily, things are about to wind down as I have just three finals left (for which I ought to be studying right now).

But just an update: my wife has started a "family" blog of our family. Really, it's just a bunch of photos of our 4-month-old son, which are ad-or-able.

The picture is a representation of my Halloween costume for this year. Kelsi is going as my wife, and Jack is going as my oil can. Brilliant.

More posts to come with some sort of regularity. Stay tuned!

So here's the link to the family blog: www.johnandkelsigagnon.blogspot.com

I'm sorry in advance

I know I haven't posted in what may seem like weeks, and it seems like that because it's true, but I have some good news.

Before I get to the good news, I need to apologize for this video. It's kind of representational of my life growing up in the suburbs, and I guess I just sorta connected with the mullet. Enjoy.



End of post. Good news to come.

Boyz in the Hood

OK, so I'm selling security systems door-to-door this summer to help pay for law school. Here's an excerpt from a conversation I had whilst speaking with on of the prepubescent youths I met on my route near inner-city Indianapolis:

9-year-old boy
Hey! Whatchoo doin' there?

Me
Just selling alarms. What are you doing?

9-year-old boy
Tricks on my bike. How old are you?

Me
25. You?

9-year-old boy
Na-ane (nine). Can you do tyyyte tricks like this?
(Boy sits on seat of bike with legs hanging over the handle bars.)

Me
(Trying not too sound too lame) Yeah, but it'd have to be a bigger bike.

9-year-old boy
Tyyte. Now what about ramping one of those cars up to the street lamp? Then down the roof? That'd be tyyyyyyyyyyte!

Me
Probably if I had a harness.

6-year-old brother of 9-year-old boy
HJakjshasjh h bike jaijfn jkljlakj bike lalkh. Tyyyyyyyyte!

9-year-old boy
Hey, shut up. Man's gotta go to work!
(Pause)
Can you like stand on the top of the bike and then do a flip and then land back on the bike? That'd be tyyyyyte!

Me
You mean like SpiderMan?

9-year-old boy
Yeah.

Me
I don't think so.

6-year-old brother of 9-year-old boy
HJakjshasjh h SpiderMan jaijfn jkljlakj SpiderMan lalkh. Tyyyyyyyyte!

9-year-old boy
Hey, shut up. Man's gotta go to work.
(Pause)
Can you ramp up the car on the light, then do a pop-a-wheelie on the top? That'd be tyyyyyte!

--------------

So this went on, in this pattern, for about 10 minutes. Each day I passed those kids, the same thing would happen, with the 9-year-old kid showing me some new tricks he learned from his older, much more skilled brother. Because "he was 20."

Tyte.

My wife is sick, but I'm pregnant too. I think.

OK, so I don't know where my little peanut of a son or daughter gets it from, but ultrasounds show that our new baby is rhythmically astute. Now, I've seen Kelsi "dance" and those of you who know me know understand that I require two sets of parenthesis when using the term dance, so I'm not sure.

The friendliness of our baby has to come from Kelsi. It was waving to the camera during the length of the its debut, but we're not sure until it comes out what that all means. It could simply be mocking us.

Probably mocking.

But yeah, we're having a baby. Which is a funny thought. Not really the baby part of it, but that couples say "we're having a baby." The last time I checked, I'm not the one with a fetus inside my uterus (I have one?) causing uncontrolled nausea fits and a weak bladder.

Yet, we're preggers. Which is the endearing term I give my wife.

So we have pictures of the ultrasound, and they'll be up shortly, but for now anyone interested will just have to check this out, it's the closest thing to what I saw in the doctor's office:



On a side note, I could blog about that video for days--mainly as to why there wasn't any soundtrack to the taping.

Blech.

But it's a really happy time for me right now. And it mostly all has to do with "us" being preggers. Kelsi is due January 2, so I might have her induced for tax purposes. Oh the bliss of modern medicine.

So we've considered names (well, I've got a list) that starts with Zero if it's a boy and Seffola if it's a girl. Let me know what you think, and let me know if you or anyone else had an ultrasound that looked like an alien. And we'll have pics up shortly.

Pace, gioia.

It's OK; Call Me a Basker

Is someone that basks in nostalgia known as a nostalgia basker? I don't think that basker is an appropriate noun, but right now I don't care much.

Who doesn't get a little bit nostalgic when times change and we move on in life?

Maybe Kevin Sorbo, but certainly not for any one reason.

I've been working this summer doing some door-to-door sales in order to try and pay for law school in the fall, and any down time I have is rare. We're working long, rigorous days and when i do have a moment or two, I try to spend it with my wife Kelsi. off and on for the last few weeks, however, I've been playing with Adobe CS3, and to get some things down, I work on Comic Frenzy media: posters, websites, and the like.

In some of the latest ideas I've had for a CF poster, I Facebook-stalked some of our older troupe members and began to reminisce about the good ole' days of my college-level improv comedy. Doing mediocre-at-best-designs gives me outlet, but also binds me to CF memories.

I'm done with my undergraduate work, and thereby done with Comic Frenzy.

Comic Frenzy has been many people's improv troupe of choice (in terms of participation) since early 2002. We've become friends, performed for mothers and high-schoolers, and even created theme song (see JD Taylor).

For six years Comic Frenzy has had a prominent place in my consciousness: eclipsing school, food and water, and even old videos of Whoopi Goldberg screen tests.

Often I think that after law school I'll open up an improv comedy club and run my law office out of it (see Ed ). But I catch myself thinking that I won't find actors suitable for the brand of comedy people would laugh at, and eventually attach themselves to. Because Comic Frenzy, to me, is more than just putting on a good show; we sought connections with our audiences. With most comedy, people found the laughter in embarrassing situations without being embarrassed themselves.

I hope that people who know us can sense that for an hour and a half on a weekend's show (and sometimes 15 hours of preparation during a week) , we seek to relieve--albeit momentarily--
whatever troubles they might bring with them to the show.

If people could leave our shows without thoughts of their own problems, we felt success.

And though I'm only a short time removed from being able to perform as a member of Comic Frenzy, I miss it as though it's been much longer. And with an indeterminate time in which a passion of the past 10 years has no more outlet for me, I reminisce.

Void of James Blunt.

James Blunt is a lyrical marauder

OK, so it's been a long while since my last post, and I'm sure not many people noticed. But here's something that has been bothering me lately:

Traveling from Idaho to Oklahoma recently, my wife and I listened to XM Radio and endured many a James Blunt song.

I have concurred that James Blunt is fooling us all. He's a singer, but certainly not a songwriter. Allow me to illustrate.

In his song "You're Beautiful". By the way, I hate this song--and mostly for its inconsistencies.

Here's the first verse of that atrocity:

My life is brilliant.
My love is pure.
I saw an angel.
Of that I'm sure.
She smiled at me on the subway.
She was with another man.
But I won't lose no sleep on that,
'Cause I've got a plan.

OK, he says he has a plan. I'm curious now. I want to know what exactly his plan is. But I'm not quite sure why he mentions that his life is brilliant and his love is pure. Aside from that tangent, let's proceed to the next verse--the verse that logically ought to enlighten us with what Mr. Blunt's plan is.

Yeah, she caught my eye,
As we walked on by.
She could see from my face that I was,
Flying high, [ - video/radio edited version]
And I don't think that I'll see her again,
But we shared a moment that will last till the end.

Did I miss something, or does this verse just not make sense in relation to the previous? Basically, it's the same introductory verse as the first--just with different lyrics. And he still doesn't go back to his plan. So now I have to be left wondering, "Is he going to stalk her? Beat up her other man? Imagine she's with him while at the petting zoo?"

I'm getting sick thinking about it.

And if I search the chorus of the song, I still can't find anything. Look for yourself.

You're beautiful. You're beautiful.
You're beautiful, it's true.
I saw your face in a crowded place,
And I don't know what to do,
'Cause I'll never be with you.

OK, really. How has this "love" song become popular? Is society just drawn to guys that play guitars and sing falsetto?

Let me know what you think.