My Downstairs Neighbors

I live in a building in which I am the youngest resident by a solid 30 years. This makes for a mostly uninteresting life save for seeing old people in their pajamas which is a daily occurrence that never fails to surprise me. (Why old people wear pajamas everywhere is probably easily explained, but perhaps we'll save that for another time)

The neighbors who I have the most interaction with are the ones directly below me. I encounter them most days and the greetings are friendly as I've been put in charge of fixing their universal remote when it becomes deprogrammed. They speak barely any English and from what I gather they don't even share the same first language. And their universal remote deprograms itself a shocking amount (9 or 10 times in the past two years). I do not know their names, but one of them is from Greece and of of them is from Not-Greece and Not-America. They're aging and drink a lot of tea and he sneaks the occasional cigarette on his porch when she is not looking.

After the 3rd or 4th time I fixed the remote they began to reward me with food or dessert. It started with a bag of oranges and two Heinekens and it's grown to home-cooked meals featuring some sort of noodles on a paper plate wrapped in tin foil. I've always taken the food upstairs to my house, but have never consumed it. At first it was because the food looked wholly unappetizing. Immediately after the first bag they gave me a plate full of foreign pastries that looked disgusting and stale. I did not eat those pastries because they did not intrigue me. I did not eat the subsequent plates because it was around this time that I began to fear that the neighbors below me intended to kill me.

And this is when I began to fear them. The thing is, a universal remote is a pretty standard piece of technology. You find the code, program it in and then it works. If you don't have the code you simply tell the remote to find it and when it guesses right you hit "enter." Now, I don't expect an elderly couple to know how to fix the remote, but it certainly is suspicious that the remote manages to become deprogrammed so often. The only palpable explanation is that it is not merely nature deprogramming that remote. So naturally they are deprogramming the remote on purpose. Why would they do that? Well, an outside observer would see two elderly people and think that maybe they're lonely and like the idea of their young neighbor coming down to visit. I would counter that maybe the express reason for the deprogramming is so that they may provide me with a plate of food for reprogramming. And if the goal of my visit is to give me food then clearly something must be going on with the food. And if something is indeed going on with the food that it is almost certainly poisoned.

What their original reasons for wanting to poison me are, I'll almost certainly never know. Maybe they're trained killers who have retired to Los Feliz and merely miss the power that came with craftily and untraceably taking a man's life or more likely maybe I stomp around too much up here. In a building whose demographic is so geriatric I'm sure I'm something of a nuisance to the building. I listen to music, I stay up late, I stumble home drunk. I'm not saying it's true, but I wouldn't be shocked if the building has some sort of secret basement where everyone goes to meet and at one of these meetings someone raised a bony hand and suggested a "solution" to the "problem in apartment 7." Any of these things could be the reason for the origin of the attempts on my life. But these were just in passing I'm sure. For I am now convinced that they know that I have never eaten any of the foods they gave me and that their desire to see me done away with is now more focused due to my rejection of their gifts.

In short, I think that the reason they want to kill me is that I have not eaten their poison. Which seems like putting the cart before the horse, but hear me out.

I became convinced of this because I slowly got the distinct sense that they KNEW I wasn't eating what they gave me. I'd get sidelong glances from them and another plate of food offered when I hadn't even programmed the remote. Suddenly they were knocking on my door at night and offering me another fresh plate. They were acting strangely. Clearly they knew. "How would they know?" I questioned myself. And there are only two possible answers to that question.

1. They dig through my trash.

2. I'm not dead.

If they were trying to poison me and they noticed that I had not died they would then know for certain that I was not eating their food. I can only imagine the rage it would send them into at the rejection of their generosity (feigned, but generous all the same). I also have come to believe that if they were digging through my trash it betrays a desire to kill me, because in order to kill someone you have to know them first. So, through that deductive reasoning I have proved that my downstairs neighbors want me dead.

And thus, I fear what my neighbors are capable of. What started as an exercise of assassination can only now have multiplied into a holy war of which my death can be the only outcome. At first they wanted me dead to pass the time, but now that I have offended them by rejecting their food and drink they want me dead because it is the only way to defend their honor and avenge the insult I have caused them. I think they'll stick to poisoning plates of home cooking for now, but if I hold out for too long they'll almost certainly move on to blowdarts or sniper rifles. I may soon be confined to my apartment for fear that if I exit they will be able to strike.

So if I die anytime soon. You know what happened.

What If...

Q: What if I wanted buffalo wings, mozzarella sticks and chicken fingers?

A: There's an App for that.

Jar

Here is what I've been up to lately -

- On Monday night I went to my favorite restaurant, Jar. Jar is a steakhouse that blows me away. I had the ribeye, we shared some duck fried rice and chocolate pudding and I had two old-fashioneds. It was a great dinner, that was almost ruined by the women sitting next to us. One of the women talked for forty-five minutes with almost no interruption. It was shocking how much she had to say while accompanied by grunts from her co-diner. They were clearly co-workers and spoke about their work environment non-stop. When they left we were just finishing our dinner course and I insisted that we sit in silence for a couple minutes to just enjoy the sound of nothing.

- I'm reading the book that eventually spawned "The Wire." For the uneducated it's called "Homicide," and it was written by David Simon who went on to create "Homicide" the television series and even later "The Wire." Simon was a reporter in Baltimore who embedded himself with the homicide division of the Baltimore PD. So far the book is fantastic. It's gripping and fascinating and as a fan of the T.V. series it's interesting to see the origins of some of the ideas and characters that I have been so enamored by. It's the type of book that makes me wish I read with a highlighter so I could mark my favorite phrases and quotes. But I don't. Because I'm lazy.

- I had what I think is probably my best birthday party ever. I managed to get 31 of my closest friends to go to a Dodger game and make one dollar wagers on whatever they wanted. Highlights included betting on strikes and balls, a bet that involved whether or not a girl in front of us had a back tattoo and exactly what time the first pitch would be thrown out. I went nuts and had a shitload of fun. And this picture came from it. Which is reward enough.

Hey Now

Here's a video I wrote. It's featured on the front page of FunnyOrDie.com today.

Enjoy!

Obama=Hitler featuring Paul Scheer - watch more funny videos

Day Thirty

In a few minutes (or hours depending on how focused I can be) I will click the "publish post" icon at the bottom of my screen and I will save my balls from a violent collision with Scott's foot. My balls will still be subject to other dangers but they will be more safe than they were on September 1st and that counts for something. I've enjoyed this challenge. It wasn't easy and if I'd failed it would've been an extremely stupid reason to get kicked in the balls, but having been up to the task I can look back and be happy I went through this. I think there are a couple things that we've learned:

1. This was not a very good blog. This is, I think, undeniably true. My respect for those who write something interesting on a daily basis has grown immeasurably. I found it nearly impossible to pick a topic (and didn't hesitate to mention that in my posts) and when I did have a topic I found it hard to determine whether or not it was actually worth writing about.

2. I think I realized that having an exercise like this is valuable to me as a writer. Forcing myself to put something down every day has done two things. First, it's given me practice. Spending time on the activity every day has made me faster and better. Second, it's given me a sense of accomplishment. The unemployed writing lifestyle can be a little trying on one's self-esteem. "Accomplishing" something every day helps battle that.

3. I'm inherently lazy. A lot of these posts would have been significantly better had I spent a little bit of time on them. In fact, I think some of the better ones were ones that I took a lot of time to proof read (which makes sense). I got lucky on a couple by just jotting something down and throwing it online but for the most part had I taken some real time to work on these posts the blog would've been much better.

4. Getting kicked in the balls is a strong motivator. I only came close to missing a day once. That's pretty impressive considering that sometimes I forget to eat.

I'm not sure if I'll continue this process. There is something about it I like. But if I were to go on I think I'd need to do more to find a common thread for the blog. What is this blog about? What kind of things will a reader find here? As it stands, there is no real answer to those questions. And if this blog is for anyone besides me those questions need to be answered. The truth is I write much better with a goal in mind. I think I'm a bit of an independent thinker, but I'm also not really a self-starter. So finding that central theme would take a long time. I thought something like that would be uncovered in the month that I've been doing this, but it didn't really materialize. The nice thing is that as far as I know this blog has two readers so I won't worry too much about how my audience feels.

Well, that's it. 30 posts in 30 days. Not nearly as good as that dude who ate hamburgers, but it was a journey. Thanks for the challenge Scott. I look forward to hearing your song.

Also, Steve, you're running out of time. Los Feliz singles dot com. Do it.

The Penultimate Day

I figure tomorrow's post will be a "what we've learned" type summary. Then I'll decide if I'll still post here. Something about doing this daily has been cathartic...

I've been trying to get into soccer. I really have been giving it an honest effort. I found the Fox Soccer Channel in my lineup and I try to switch over to it when there is a game on. I've even gone so far as to record a game or two when there is a team that I think I might be interested in watching. But so far, my efforts have been totally fruitless (did I already write a post about this?).

The first obstacle to soccer viewing is that I don't have even the slightest connection to a team. As a child I chose to root for the University of Michigan because my Dad lived in Michigan. I had no university affiliations and no relationship with my father, but the connection was enough. With soccer there is virtually nothing to link me to a team. In international soccer I root for the Irish (I can never find myself rooting for America) so I tried out being a Celtic fan because the Irish bar we go to in San Diego has posters for Celtic everywhere. I've never seen them watch a Celtic game, but you get the sense that if it were on, those drunk Irish dudes would know what was happening.

Here's the thing about Celtic. They kind of suck. In their league (the scottish premiere league) they do quite well, but those games are not even close to televised in the states. In the games that are televised (the UEFA championship games) Celtic gets annihilated. They don't belong on the same field as the team's they play in the Champions League. In fact, they kind of look like the guys from the Irish bar in San Diego if they formed a soccer team and played when they were really drunk.

So they're out.

I wrack my brain for other teams I could like, but I don't have any connections to any cities in England or the rest of Europe for that matter. Even if I did the other thing about the English Premier league is that the lack of parity is much worse than anything we have here. Of the 20 or so teams in the EPL only 4 of them win, or have won championships (these stats are NOT accurate). I don't like rooting for dominant dynasties and would much rather pick a team with a real shot at a Cinderella season, but the lower teams in the EPL are virtually guaranteed to be terrible. Seriously, there are 8 teams with worse chances than the Padres have in baseball.

The other barrier to entry for soccer is how many leagues there are. I watch games on television and have no idea why they're being played and for what. Teams that I'm certain are in the English league play teams that are based in Greece. How is one supposed to keep track of this? I feel like I need to hire a bunch of foreigners to sit in my living room and explain everything. I can get a British guy, a Mexican, someone from Spain and a guy from Russia or Eastern Europe. I don't want an Italian because he'd be all swarthy and probably try to make out with my girlfriend and I figure the Spanish guy can explain the Italian league. Then they'll all tell me about their leagues and their favorite players and which teams are which. That way I could soak it all in quickly and be an instant soccer genius.

Note: I wouldn't have a Brazilian because he'd do capoeira and kick me in the face. Which would be unpleasant.

I guess the truth is that I'll have to sit around and wait for the World Cup when soccer coverage in the United States goes way up and I can learn as much as I can, which should boomerang me into the new season. That seems like a solid plan.

In conclusion, this post feels like it needs a conclusion.

Day 28

Happy birthday, mother.

Right now I'm watching "Big Bang Theory." This is the 9th episode I've watched in the last 24 hours. "Big Bang Theory" isn't an amazing show and it turns out that it's not awful either. But still no show is worthy of 9 episodes in 24 hours (unless we're talking about "Hoarders" which if you haven't seen it, is totally necessary).

As an aspiring TV writer one is forced to write "spec" episodes of existing television shows. The idea behind doing this is to demonstrate that you can write a joke, but also to demonstrate that you can write within the confines of a specific style. A show runner is looking for someone who can help their writing staff with ideas, but they also want to know that you can write their genre. My writing partner and I have already written a spec of "It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia" so we need to pick a show that is a more "traditional" middle-america type show. So this process begins with us picking a show that fits that.

So we settled on "Big Bang Theory" with neither of us ever having really seen it. So I'm now on my 10th episode of this show and I'm still not even sure I like it. But it is a strange endeavor to watch a show not as a fan, but studying it for the sake of trying to mimic it.

The good news is that I feel like we can write a funny episode of this show. Despite it being slightly more traditional than shows I usually watch, the sense of humor is up the right alley. Writing for nerds is fun. You can break reality and nerds are expected to talk strangely.

Someday I'll actually work hard on one of these posts.

Two days!