Day 10 (Jan. 22): "When the f**k did we get ice cream?"

ANSWER: This bluesman's first top 40 hit was 1964's "Rock Me Baby."

-Day Ten-

Today was probably the last of the glorious "We have nothing to do" days for the remainder of the trip. Wednesday would be London, Thursday would be out to see Natalie in the Isle of Wight, and by the weekend, I need to get ready to get out of here. However, as I write this, I realize just how much I cherish the lack of things to do. While the weekend and snow tampered that in an extremist sort of fashion, I do enjoy the idea of being stranded. I don't get that in California more than once every few years. Don't get me wrong, going places is essential, but there is something awe inspiring about nothingness sometimes.

Continuing my trend, I woke up before Alex and was up in my room finishing off the WTF with Marc Maron episode with Dave Grohl. Ever since I was little, I have found myself oddly fascinated  by Grohl. Maybe at first for Foo Fighters, but he just seemed to be so passionate about music. However, I still argue my favorite Grohl moment remains the Queens of the Stone Age song "Song for the Dead" in which he has that ridiculous drum opening. I don't know why, but that is my token rock star song where I grab twigs and bang pillows until I hit in time. Mind you, I only play bass. I also wrote a report on Grohl in seventh grade. He hasn't aged well with me, but I still respect him as a passionate musician.

Downstairs, we regrouped and discovered that someone named John was going to come over to visit. Who is John? For starters, he is a friend of Alex's that has spent a year in Australia. We got down to discussing what we would do when we saw him. It was assumed that we would have access to an X-Box, in which we would be playing games up in Alex's room for a very, very long afternoon. Now that sounded great. I personally didn't want to leave the house. 

Up in Alex's room, I sat on his bed while he tidied up. Cracking a window, he played me this odd band called Violent Delight that makes no sense lyrically. However, one thing that I am going to miss about this trip is being forced to watch Alex rock out to music. He is just so endearing when he does it. He is selling out to some One Direction music (that he swears is for a cover, but if that cover will ever appear is still up for discussion).

I sat reading Alan Sepinwall's book "the Revolution was Televised." To refresh everyone, I have been trying to get into film criticism notably to test my skills. Sepinwall is a big reason for that. Listen to Firewall &Iceberg and you'll understand. TV is a fascinating landscape if you know where to look. He is chronicling the most significant dramas that shaped TV of the last 25 years. I have only read 40 pages, and man, I might as well quit. He is so poetic in how he turns chapters on shows into a historical lecture mixed with significant tidbits. I learn so much.

The fact is, he knows how to write criticism about TV. I don't know the first thing, even if I do it five times a week. Of course, I try to pat myself on the back and say that one year out from film criticism for me was not exactly any more glorious than my first year of critiquing TV. Still Sepinwall clearly evokes passion and is very confident in every single syllable. I could only aspire to be him, though he also knows a ton about TV that I have no idea exists. In closing, he is so convincing as a writer that he makes Oz sound like the greatest show ever. He doesn't use hyperbole at all. It is just how he presents Oz as this risky, ground breaking show that makes you want to watch it. I'm on a chapter about the Sopranos and I cannot wait to get to Breaking Bad. This guy makes the history of TV fascinating. All I do is give the facts. I lose.

John shows up and we're back in the living room. Alex pretends that he is Tom Delonge while playing songs on an acoustic guitar. I cannot help but scream "spaceship" during the breaks to feel like a fitting tribute to where Delonge ended up. Chris disliked it, but Alex being a buffoon is still rather entertaining and man, I am beginning to realize that this is probably the thing that's going to symbolize my trip more than any film, building, or event. Alex playing guitar and singing poorly (semantics time: I only applied that to the LAST one).

John shows up and somehow my first instinct is to play Happy Birthday on guitar because that is one of 10 songs that I know how to play. Nothing phases the moment, and I am forced to get dressed. No problem. Alex and I talked about doing a snack run when John got there. I figured that discussion on hooking up games was planned out while I was gone. I was ready to just go to that store and buy some drinks and have some fun. Really, as many lazy days as we have had, we just haven't had one of those pointless lazy binge days.

We got into John's car. Already odd. We have walked to the market to buy goods many times before now. However, I just roll with it. I notice he misses the turn to the market. In fact, we are soon surrounded by trees and fields covered in snow. We are now over 20 minutes away from the market. We are possibly in another city. It is hard to tell, but the signs give me an impression that the snacks were going to have to wait.

John is a nice guy. Alex and him caught up and I just sat in the back trying to find that moment to chime in. It seemed close to impossible. I knew nothing about Australia or their relationship as chums. I was just a friend who knew John for 30 minutes before realizing we were not going to buy snacks. Also, I have this weird streak of being more of a polite funny man. I can get crass, but the amount of perverted jokes coming from the front seat of the car was intimidating, speaking it almost felt like a code that me saying "Good one, Alex" would somehow make me look like an idiot. I try to be a decent person and sound smart, but I also spend so much time being quiet that I occasionally ponder if I am just not an interesting person in comparison to someone who can talk for an entire car ride and miss the market for snacks.

We ended up in Hastings. Parked next to the beach, it was cold as hell and neither Alex nor I was really dressed for the weather. I had a jacket on, but I was still not layered enough for winds or being right next to a beach or rain. Alex was worse off, wearing close to nothing but shorts and no jacket. He also claims that he wasn't wearing underwear, but that was not seen by me, so I won't justify that with a response.

We decided to have lunch at a Wetherstones, where we had round two of a burger. Alex claims that they are good, but I still could not find reason to agree with him. To his advantage, all it took was a different combination for the actual taste to reach my mouth. I liked the results. John and Alex controlled the conversation, so I just enjoyed my burger and waited for the rest of the day to happen. We hit an arcade for one game of air hockey and then we were back out to the car.

Next we ended up at John's house. We played X-Box there. It was some basketball game that I had no idea how to play on top of never playing X-Box before. I played as the WNBA for the first time, and it may be my best round of the few that we played. Still, the highlights was that Alex, the button masher expert somehow beat everyone, and then the computer, but not without taking on grotesquely exaggerated voices and shouting "SHAQUILLE!" and "WHITE MAN!" which made sense in the context, and kept me from really focusing on the game for most of my time. I don't know what happened during that game, but it was probably the funnest thing besides actually getting snacks.

John drove us back to Rye shortly after we finished playing games. He was blasting terrible dance music and talking to Alex. The windows were fogged up pretty bad, so I was forced to have to listen to them or risk one of my sixth senses going insane. When we finally landed back at the house, we took a few moments to get our plan in orders before finally getting snacks, which persisted of Kit Kats, Doritos, and Fanta sodas. 

From there, we popped on my introductory English stand up comedian: Russell Howard. I don't know if Alex has some ulterior motive with his selection, but it seemed like he found one that I connected with quickly. While the references were oh so British, it was a lot of observational humor mixed with some crass, delusional selections that all felt authentic to the author. I worry that the show, which exceeded 80 minutes, may have suffered from my unfamiliar relationship with UK specials. Only legendary comedians who have been around in the George Carlin pantheon can dare go on for more than 80 minutes, which even then seems gratuitous. No lie, Howard can hold a crowd, even though there was a bit of filler. 

I enjoyed it quite a bit and since it is rare, I will mention that I laughed out loud quite a bit. I can only hope that Alex's next few selections can compare. Howard is really funny and I am glad that I discovered him. I'd like to say more, but I cannot think of too much at the moment. I will probably mention him often provided the other material (which I am sure will be great) resonates with me enough. Also, this bodes well with how I may perceive Alex and his stand-up, which I will be seeing soon. You'll probably hear about that shortly after, I am sure.

After an episode of Friday Night Dinner, we called it quits and I enjoyed my ongoing Auteurcast series on David Fincher with the episode on the Game. It may be subliminal, but I really want to see the Curious Case of Benjamin Button when I get home. I own it, so it won't be too hard to manage, but the amount of times that I hear "Fincher is a genius" just makes me want to watch his work over and over. Also, it reminds me that I still need to see Panic Room.

No Sundance news, as I fell asleep before I could get to it. However, random story collection from the past day. ABC has cancelled Don't Trust the B in Apt. 23, so I am simultaneously glad that I won't be too far behind in recaps and sad that I won't get to enjoy the one show that I felt had loads of potential. Also, Louis C.K. has written me (and his e-mail listers) that Louie is coming to the UK soon. Bravo! I will no longer feel like a cheat, even though I wonder if it will translate. However, with the amount of times that Alex says "cynicism," I think that it should.

Other than that, no real news stories. It wasn't much of a day besides being dragged around in John's car. In truth, it was a nice trip because I still do not understand how England's roads work. I have understood the lights for some time, but the road marks are still odd. Speaking that I have spent 95% of my transportation on a train, I haven't had to deal with drivers too often. I have gotten over the issue with different sides, but some of the road marks are still odd, and I felt like screaming "No, you're going to crash!" when he made turns. However, who has the license? The guy who was in Australia for a year. I rest my case.

Then again, will I remember how to drive when I get back to America? That is a serious question. I haven't had to touch a wheel for some time now, and while I am sure two weeks will not necessarily cause impairment, you do wonder if you are somewhat slower. At very least, I feel like if I go back to America and simple quick paced walks gets me out of breath, I need to get in shape. I am not a wreck, but damn does the cold mess with me in times of a rush.

I will try to get my experience in London to you before I leave for the Isle of Wight. Alex has no idea what is happening with that, and I have failed to compensate with plans. Hopefully expect it very soon, but otherwise, I will try to get it to you ASAP. I will admit that the lack of internet connection in public here has forced me to be observant. That is one pro for printed media. You don't need wifi. You just need someone to pay attention.  

QUESTION: Who is B.B. King?

Day 8 (Jan. 20): Pub Crawling

ANSWER: This president's second inaugural address was 135 words long; he had us at "Fellow citizens."

-Day Eight-

Today's entry will open with an honest question. What do YOU know about snow? As a person who has spent most of his life in California, that is a very mythic question. I have travelled to mountains and even back east, but what significant exposure to snow have I really had? The answer is an abysmal, empty number. I have no idea what snow is outside of the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, both films and even the books (though the books are more responsible for why I believe all of Europe is made out of IKEA furniture). 

The day started off like most of them. I woke up, got ready, and was ready to seize the day. Another cooked breakfast and everything was ready for another fun day. However, what is great is knowing how the world stops for snow in England. The country is notoriously unprepared for snow, and thus the trains come to a halt and schools are cancelled, all because of a little bit of whiteness. It seems odd, as I live in the land where the only thing that will shut down a school is a busted pipe that floods classrooms. That is rare, so I am pretty used to only missing school when the teacher is depressed (really, that is my English 60 teacher in a nutshell). 

But it was also a lesson in proper wear. I don't have the clothes necessary for snow. Okay, I have the pants and jacket combo, but how long was I going to last outside of that? My puny shoes could hardly soak in all of the wet, cold ground. I had to layer socks, and even that seemed oddly ill prepared. I ended up having to wear boots, including one that featured a pinch towards my calf.

I was wearing enough clothes to be a small tank. Eventually, Alex and I walked outside and started heading to the park. The green was now converted to white and for someone who hasn't seen snow in person, it was amazing to see an endless mile of snow in all directions. One of the first things that happened was that Alex taught me how to roll a ball of snow. However, I argue that my gloves immediately made my product so poor that I made an oval more than a ball. Yet, this lead to a snow fight that saw just how a mix of physicality and weather can exhaust me. I am trying to figure out if it is the snow or my figure that is really being worn out by this visit.

He even recorded some footage of me. I made a snow angel that looked more like the hazard signs that you see on chemical barrels. No head at all. Still, the feeling is amazing to be surrounded by that much snow. I think that I expressed genuine joy when we just started having a war over who had better aim. Oddly, I am better at hand eye coordination than I give myself credit for. In most shots, I hit where Alex told me to. Other times, I just hit his crotch. However, he was aggressive and always managed to kick me when I was down. Those balls came at my face so frequently that I couldn't even see. I even rolled a few yards after Alex started an assault. Snow is amazing, and it makes violence into a Rated G game that just melts away in seconds. It is so addictive and while I still don't like getting hit in the face, it is just so much fun. I wish that I had more exposure to it. I eventually took my gloves off to try my hand at a real ball, and those proved that my gloves were shit for rolling a proper ball.

It is also something to walk in snow. it is like walking on bubble wrap. Every step is another crack towards the ground. You see the remnants of your footstep and the clicking noise is just as fun. It is like destroying a white carpet at times. So beautiful and while it really disables the amount of steps that you can take at a stride, it has a nice cadence to it.I almost didn't mind walking slower just to enjoy walking in the snow.

After a quick stop back at the house, we met up with Viv and Chris, who were adamant on taking me to the Mermaid. Instead of talking about a boring walk, I will just go into the basics. It is a really old pub that predates a rebuilding in the 1400's. People ranging from Shakespeare to Michael Caine have stayed there. The houses across the way all have odd names, including "The house with two doors." There is an endearing novelty to those names, and it almost makes you realize that the houses were THAT old that they could afford to be the generic names because, well, there wasn't anything else that could be called "The house with two doors."

So, what do I get? A coke. In an odd turn of events, I am in a city that has a large bar per capita for England (from what I know, Halifax, Canada owns the highest bar per capita in the world (thanks, Ellen Page)) and I have been slowly being introduced to what seems like every single one of them. What is odd is that even away from the restrictive environment where drinking will not affect my day at.all, I still order a soda at every single place. It is crazy to think that I am not taking this opportunity to try liquors, but you know what... I am breaking every stereotype imaginable. What are YOU doing by ordering beers?

I mostly say this not as a running gag, but as the truth. Everyone has wondered why I have not been fascinated by the architecture. Why am I fascinated by the dumb, subtle stuff? Here's the thing. You go to art galleries expecting the classics. They are just as good as you expect. Sometimes the efforts and cultural significance are ignored because they all are high quality art pieces. Do you know Donatello? Michaelangelo? Leonardo? Can you tell them apart after staring at them for 20 minutes? Only enthusiasts can. Read my life story. I like beautiful things, but at no points am I necessarily the building enthusiast. This isn't to say that I don't enjoy these layouts, but seeing them in rapid succession is just impossible to stop and say "yes, this is a brilliant piece of craftsmanship." Only when you throw yourself into something does that really become more than a survey of British culture. As for the mundane things. It is like picking up the tidbits about the exhibition hall and understanding how it is different from your house.

Still, if one place yells of luxurious looking stuff, it is the Mermaid. There's rooms dedicated to popular English figures like Dr. Syn. The place looks really nice, old school, and runs on gas powered fires.It also has the most authentic fireplaces that I have seen of the pubs. Most of the other ones seemed to be boxed up holes in the wall compared to an entire wall that was reserved for burning wood.

I continued to get a tour of Rye, via Viv and Chris. We went down an alley where they had a barber called... Alley Barber. Easily the height of puns. Almost all puns in comparison are shit. Dumb statement, but it is funny because it is true. Also, I finally got everyone to point out that they wish that I could stay longer so that they could convert me to a fine British man with manners and Alex's favorite word: cynicism. I am not entirely sure why that word has been at the height of conversation as of late (almost as much as the Invisible Man references, which has only missed one day so far). I also saw a player piano at the Standard that featured a roll sheet for the "Paint Your Wagon" song. They said that it will probably be the thing that I remember most from that trip. Well, at least I'll remember them saying that. I also enjoy that I derailed a conversation about Lincoln unintentionally into talking about family. I still don't know if Viv knows my thoughts on the film.

We had dinner at the table, which is odd, considering that I was beginning to think that Americans and British people were similar to their irregular familiarity with eating on a piece of wood. I have been eating off of a tray-like pillow for most of my stay. Add in some candles and Alex throwing out migraine-inducing, cheesy jokes, and you kind of get the height of the dinner conversation. We even got conversation in about my dinner life as well as school. In a way, it is funny for Viv to think that I gave up on school, though if you knew me a year ago, you might as well assume so. 

The rest of the night was spent in Alex's room watching the height of British TV. I apologize ahead of time that I will be jumping to earlier in the day for part of this. There is just some odd, fascinating differences about the sitcoms. In fact, shows that I never have heard about are now quickly entering my recommendations list for when I get back to the states. Before you accuse me of being a pro-everything, do know that I have some complaints to follow.

First up is Fresh Meat, which I guess is an hour-long comedy (I say that because I felt odd when the episode began getting into 35-minute territory). It is about a bunch of house mates living together, and it felt very much like "their" Community. You had the oddball collective interacting together in a college setting. Part of my viewing was obstructed by me writing, but I noticed that Jez from Peep Show was in an episode, which immediately made me excited (I love that Alex didn't think I would get Peep Show when I consider it to be one of the best shows that I've seen in recent years). 

Okay... too much sidetracking. Here's the thing about Fresh Meat. I don't hate it, but besides the hour-long format (which feels odd for a comedy, even though that is MY problem) makes it feel like there is some filler. However, I did enjoy moments from the two episodes that I saw. Then there was the distinctly British aspects. A lot of characters talking in rhyme and doing rather peculiar things all felt very British. Not enough to say "this is bad," but in my brief time here, watching a lot of Fresh Meat is probably not going to be high on my priorities. It is enjoyable, but I feel like some cultural aspects are lost on me. I may revisit it eventually just to see if the obligatory introduction episode was just a little bit... off for me.

Pete Vs. Life was next in line, and I felt like this was the most gimmicky thing that I have seen so far. It wasn't even because it was British. This show reminds me of an episode of the Drew Carey Show in which two guys pine for a woman in a faux sports show format with two announcers commenting the whole time. In fact, I argue that the Sklar Brothers would make a stock, yet interesting American replacement of the announcers characters. 

However, it felt too much like "Pete had an encounter like THIS with this girl, and it did not go well," "Indeed you're right. Let's show some playback!" I don't even know if it could work for sports fans, but it felt like they had to stretch the premise in order for the humor to be derived. It wasn't terrible, and in fact had an episode full or quirky ideas, but still felt like it was too reliant on certain devices for the humor to really come from a place of fun.

Then there was Friday Night Dinner, which may be my second favorite show discovery on this trip. The premise is in the title. A family gets together for dinner on Fridays, and wacky stuff happens. Hilarity ensues. Yadda, yadda, yadda. However, as obvious as the format is and as often as the show features certain comedy points every time, I think that it is brilliant. I don't see it lasting very long, but the simplicity and the show's brief seasons will probably keep it from every running out of breath. I'd say that there needs to be more shows like this, but then I would immediately regret that. However, I just love how ridiculous things get. This show knows what it is going for, and succeeds. 

From what I know, there is an American remake in the works with Allison Janney, and I am not enthused now. First off, this show is great at 7 episode seasons. American seasons are three times as long and I cannot see it lasting more than a season it if plans to withstand quality. So no, I am not digging that idea. However, if it gets BBC America to play reruns of it, I will be more than on that.

The night ended with Alex rocking out to music. I honestly forgot what it sounded like to live with music enthusiasts. Loud tunes that made me fear that someone would come in and say "shut up!" Also, Alex's enthusiasm and constant rocking out just make me believe that he rocks in his sleep. I am such the party pooper. I was just watching him from the bed and thinking that I was not contributing much to the party. He even filled up time with stories and dancing, which make me believe that he is at very least passionate enough to win any air guitar competition that comes his way (mind you, he plays a decent guitar guitar, too).

I pretty much called it a night not too long after. I started the recent WTF with Marc Maron, but sleep wasn't too long after. The interview with Dave Grohl had to wait until morning. No real Sundance coverage procured. However, I did find that James Ponsoldt was doing his next film with Mary Elizabeth Winstead. They worked together on last year's brilliant Smashed and even though I don't know anything about it, I believe that they could work together until Winstead gets an Oscar nomination. I still argue that Smashed deserved her a nomination.

Still putting it out there, any leads to Sundance coverage, let me know. Otherwise, another excellent day and the simple sight of snow is enough to make this one of the better in-house days that we have had. You sometimes forget that you rode a train while in England, because I hadn't been on one since Thursday. I found it quaint that the trains were cancelled for the weekend, as if weather works on the same schedule as the working commuters do.

Tomorrow should be fun. I talk about Django Unchained and other fun stuff, like the Presidential Inauguration that I missed. However, it only reminds me that January 20th was America's  birthday. She is a girl I used to know and kind of wish that I still did. I know her birthday well because it correlates with the inauguration very well. To sum it up, she was a light of optimistic conversation during a rather cynical period of my life. I don't feel like I fully acknowledged it until after we faded apart, but I still often wonder what she is up to and think that she is doing very well. She always seemed like she would be a succeeder. 

I don't do it often, but she is one of those people I think back fondly on and wish that I still talked to. Most people from high school, I am fortunately glad to be rid of. They seemed like they were fine people, but inessential to my life. America was not quite that. She was a prominent part of Alex's last trip to Long Beach, which I feel clings this together and keeps it from being a total tangent. I am sure that I could attempt to contact her with some success, as we never had bad blood between us, but at the same time, I feel like maybe she could perceive me as inessential as I do some of my high school friends. Then again, that is my fear kicking in.

She is an excellent person, and I want to wish her a happy birthday, even if she doesn't read this. I miss you and I sometimes feel like you were one of the best friends I had, if just because you gave me hope as well as reason to see Sex and the City 2 at midnight (shut up, it is a good show, but those movies sucked). I'll stop now, but hope you are doing well. Adios.

QUESTION: Who is George Washington?