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Once again, time flies; regardless if you are having fun or not. I am having fun; so as a result, this blog is in need of attention...AGAIN! Anyway, the first quarter of the year has come and gone. With that in mind, I'll anyone who is listening (or gives a flying flip for that matter) an update on my life.

Writing
Well, you're looking at it. Not much new has happened with the written word of late. I have made progress on the audio book front, with Sevenacide now being available as an audio book from Cool Beat (www.coolbeat.biz). But not much new has been written of late. I have notebooks full of ideas and several manuscripts in various stages of competition, but no completed projects and none on the horizon. However, check my performer update below; that will give you some answers on my writing future.

Performer
As far as live stage performances, there are none scheduled in the near future. I finished a stint with an improve troupe, Green Bridge Improv, in December. On the surface, it was nine months of hard work that produced little tangible results. However, once you get below the surface, there was a phenomenal shift in my skills as a performer. The lessons learned were priceless and are beginning to pay some handsome dividends. The whole thing will probably eventually play out as something that people will be kicking themselves saying, "Damn, I coulda caught this act for a couple of bucks at the Olympia Theater a few years ago." Or maybe like that garage band that plays a few gigs in front of nobody, breaks up and then twenty years later all of the band members are in the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame as members of different bands.

Meanwhile, I have become a magnet for movie work. I can't seem to swing a cat and not hit someone who has a movie project going. The jewel of this crown is Baine (www.baine-themovie.com), a film I auditioned for in January. Going in, I had no idea that I would be cast as the title character, Howard Baine. However, circumstances played into my hands and I go into production with this project in August of this year.

As I said above, my writing is playing an important part in all of this. My writing skills can translate into script development. I have an original screen play in the works and am looking to work more with movies as the projects come down the line. Stay tuned for more this in another blog.

Radio
My internet radio project, Retrograde Radio (www.retrograde-radio.com) on the Radio Ear Network (www.radioearnetwork.com) is still on the air and moving forward. Now that I can do the show out of my house, I have more control over this. I am still looking for a permanent sponsor; any body who is interested can contact me. We'll talk.

Personal
Well not much has changed. Still single. Still living in the same place. Still have the same day job. Health is good. No new toys. No trips planned. Kind of quiet, for a change. I'm OK, overall.

So there you have it. You're all up to date. If you to know more, well...you'll just have to wait for another blog. Or check out my sites:

www.sevenacide.com - Writing
www.retrograde-radio.com - Radio
www.robertshuster.com - Acting and everything else

And the My Spaces (sorry, I don't do Facebook)
http://www.myspace.com/sevenacide - Writing
http://www.myspace.com/retrograderadio - Radio
http://www.myspace.com/robertshusterperformer - Acting

Till next time!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Labels: acting, film, Florida, Green Bridge Improv, My Space, Olympia Theater, punk rock, radio

So sorry for the neglect; as if...

Oh well, with so many blogs out there, it's little wonder that this thing can go nearly a whole year without an update. I'm sure anyone who had an interest has long since given up. Anyway, lots of stuff has happened over the last 10 months. Hell, one could concieve a child and have it in their arms in tha period of time.

It also took me a while to figure out how to get back on here. But I'm back and I promise to write more. Later...

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Labels: comeback, interest, return

2008 started off OK, but went downhill fast. After a sucessful convention in Dallas at Texas Frighmare Weekend, in which I sold lots of books and copies of the Vampire Biker Babes DVD, things went south. In addition to some financial diffuculties, the capper was my mother's passing (see my last post). Even more crippling has been the drain on my artistic vision. At this point, going forward into 2009, I am taking a hard look at what is working and what isn't. This is not just the artistic side of my life; it's all sides.

But, it's not all doom and gloom. I pointed a friend of mine to a printer to rerelease his brother-in-law's book that was out of print. I also performed in my first Shakespearan play. And sometimes, it feels good to get rid of clutter in one's life. Excess junk, be it paper or ideas, can keep you from seeing the clear picture.

So...forward into 2009

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Labels: 2009, junk, New Year, Shakespeare, Vampire Biker Babes

On Monday, October 6, 2008, I lost my mother, Alma Shuster. My mother was a loving woman who took care of a devoted husband, raised six children and doted on her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. In addition, she lent her time to numerous community activities and even worked at local precinct during elections.

Like my father, she two was a child of the Depression who came of age during World War II. However, she was a "city girl", though she said she grew up on the corner of "Polk and Plum...poke your head out the window and you were plum out of town". They married just before my father went overseas, after the fall of Germany, but before the surrender of Japan. I guess they decided to throw the dice in those uncertain days, but I'm grateful they took the gamble.

My mother adapted to a lot of things. She first had to get used to being a farmer's wife. Then, she went out and got a job outside of the house before it was something fashionable. She fought cancer to a draw for thirty-five years and battled numerous other illnesses and injuries over the years. You wouldn't know from her quiet demeanor, but my mom was tough. Not that in-your-face; more like a resilient, plodding kind of tough that you weren't going to scare off easily.

She made a house a home just by her sheer presence. With a little work in the kitchen, she could make any kid weak in the knees with a baked treat or a warm meal. Her serenity carried through to the household, no matter where she was.

But my mom wasn't all business. She liked playing cards, golfing, traveling and sitting back in doing crossword puzzles. She even liked playing the piano and singing every now and then. Her and my father made up for years of hard work by cramming a lifetime of living in their retirement years.

After my father passed away last year, she lost her zest for life. She missed more than everyone else combined. I miss her terribly, but know she's with her soul mate of sixty plus years.

Mom, I hope to see you and Dad again someday, too.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Now that the football season is upon us, I have come up with a modest proposal. I would like to see merger of the NFL and AFL completed, and have the NFL realigned in real geographic terms. Since the AFL went out of business nearly 40 years ago, the league needs to get rid of the phony "NFC" and "AFC" and create some local rivalries that would increase excitement in the sport. My realignment is as follows:

EAST
Mid-Atlantic
Tennessee
Baltimore
Carolina
Washington

Northeastern
Buffalo
New York Giants
New England
New York Jets

Allegheny
Cincinnati
Cleveland
Pittsburgh
Philadelphia

Southeastern
Miami
Atlanta
Tampa
Jacksonville


WEST
Great Lakes
Chicago
Detroit
Indianapolis
Green Bay

Southwestern
Houston
Arizona
Dallas
New Orleans

Mid-Central
Denver
Kansas City
Minnesota
St. Louis


Pacific
Oakland
San Diego
San Francisco
Seattle

Ah yes, I can hear the whines now..."You can't have this team in the same division as this team...", etc. The way I look at it, two things will happen. First, a number of natural rivalries will be created and/or will intensify. As a Bears fan, this alignment will still have them playing the Green Bay Packers twice a year. My Bucs would both Miami and Jacksonville twice in the same season. As it stands, all three teams in the state of Florida are scattered between two conferences and three different divisions. Second, with this many games between teams this close, the savings in transportation costs would be something owners would want to look at, not to mention reducing wear and tear on their players through long road trips.

But hey, it's just a suggestion. So all sports wonks, don't get your knickers in a wad. Remember, it's only a game.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Labels: Chicago, Florida, football, Green Bay, Tampa, travel

(Note: This blog has been down for a while, but I have been switched to a new server so everything is OK now.)

Well, my stint of doing Shakespeare is now over. I finished portraying Antonio in The Tempest, had a great time and am looking forward to doing more of the Bard’s work in the future. More on that later.

So, as David Essex said, "where do we go from here?"

A DAMN good question! Right now I’m stuck in neutral, at least creatively. I’m not quite sure what the next step should be. To be honest, I have a nice body of work out there, but nothing has seemed click the final tumbler. I’m proud of what I’ve done: four books, a radio show, a feature role in a film, and a whole lot of performance. That’s all nice, but where to now. Or as Shakespeare would say, “How now, Robert? Speak!”

Well, to give everyone a clue, a do have a Shakespearean project "in development". No word yet on the details, but stick around. Other than that, an audition here, a personal appearance there, a little of this and a little of that.

Sort of like the eye of the hurricane. Peace and quiet before all hell breaks loose.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Labels: film, punk rock, radio, Shakespeare, writing

There's a lot of talk these days about "carbon footprints", "greenhouse gasses", and all that other environmental stuff. I'm a firm believer in all of that, at least to the point where it's practical. However, there was someone in my life who took this very seriously: my father.
My father wasn't a tree hugger or a back-to-nature type guy. He had very practical reasons. He just hated to waste things.
First, there was electricity. My father fought for turning off lights with the zeal of a World War II-era air raid warden. His battle cry was, "Turn off the goddam lights when you're done in a room"! The electric bill was high enough for him, and there was no sense having the lights on in a room that no one was in.

Then, there was bottled water. Nothing upset him more than someone paying for water when he had perfectly good water that came out of the tap from his deep underground well. Not to mention the empty plastic bottles cluttering the place.

As far as gas conservation was concerned, making trips into town where verboten unless you could consolidate several trips together. Living out in the country meant a fifteen-minute, ten mile trip. By God, you don't need to go to town every day, was his battle cry. That was well before gas was nudging at $4.00 a gallon.

Finally, there was consumerism. My father didn't believe in buying ANYTHING unless you absolutely needed it. When you did, you went into the store specifically for that, chose between what was there, made your purchase and went home. You didn't need all that other "crap" that was being sold there.
I guess I'm not the only one that misses my father. Mother Nature probably does as well.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

(Oh...BTW, Happy New Year!!!)

A lot of people in Florida complain about out-of-town guests this time of year. Often, these are the type of people who ironically throw out blanket "come see us in Florida..." invites to everyone they can think of. As for me, I just told people I was moving to Florida and let them get up the nerve to see me.

Well, this season, my friends Michelle and Ethan came down from Boston to visit. It was mid-February and the weather was classic, "Chamber of Commerce" stuff with lots of sun during the day and cool, crisp evenings. We had a lot of fun, I worked hard to be a good host and they were perfect guests. We also bonded over the insane traffic on I-4 and lack of parking at the beach

The greatest gift I got was seeing Sarasota, Florida in a whole new light. We spent an afternoon at the beach and I just settled back to watch pelicans dive-bomb for their meals. I spent time in Selby Gardens looking out for geckos for Michelle to spot, as well as literally stopping to smell the roses (and other exotic plants and flowers). I saw everyday sights in a new light and a new attitude.

I guess that's what is so great about having guests. You get to appreciate the beauty and abundance that you already have.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Hum Bah Bug

Christmas is just days away. I still need to finish my shopping. I'm low on cash. My life that last six months has been filled with more drama than the London West End Theater District on a Saturday night. And you know what!I'm not stressed. I refuse to be.

I love Christmas and I don't care what anyone else thinks. I love Christmas music. I love the glitter. I love the hustle and the bustle. I love the parties with all the food and I plan to stuff my face without guilt, waistline be damned. I love not knowing what will be on my doorstep or in my mailbox.

I refuse to buy into the "Christmas Whines" such as:
"I'm not putting up a tree this year"
"The Holiday is so commercial, so I'm off to the mall by lots of crap"
"I can't stand all of those parties"
"It's so busy; I can't wait for it to be over"

No, Christmas is to be savored. Got a lot of parties to go to, so what! Be grateful you have so many friends. Don't want to put up a tree. Go to a discount store and get an artificial one, string some lights and put up a few ornaments. It doesn't take much effort and you don't have to look like the one in Rockefeller Center in New York. You don't want to buy anything; don't. You want to give something, but are short on cash, just drop off a box of Christmas cookies or send some fruit or a box cheese from Hickory Farms. If people don't like what you send them, screw 'em. At least you thought of them. BTW, that attitude cuts both ways; so be thankful someone thought enough of you to send that fruitcake.

I just enjoy the Holiday for what it is. "Peace on Earth and Goodwill to Men", even if the peace is just in my house and the goodwill is only my own. I don't know about the rest of you all, but I'm going to singing Christmas carols, knocking back eggnog and wishing total strangers all the best for the Season. Any card or gift I get, I cherish it like their spun gold.

Now that we got that sorted out, Happy Holidays to Everybody!

PS - I'm not politically correct, but there are so many Holidays between Thanksgiving and the Orthodox Christmas in January that I don't want to leave any of them out. My advice is to celebrate any/all or none if it suits your fancy. And that includes Boxing Day!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

Maurice Shuster (1921 -- 2007)

On Sunday, November 11, 2007 I lost my father, Maurice Shuster. He was not only a father; he was a husband, a grandfather and great-grandfather, a neighbor, a friend and a respected member of the community. His loss leaves a void that will be difficult to fill.

He was a child of the Depression, who grew up on a farm that still used horses. He would go on to serve his country during the waning days of World War II, and return to become a part of the tapestry of post-war America.

He was a farmer himself for many years, and later became petroleum delivery truck driver. He worked hard, both at his job and around the home. Even in retirement, my father continued to stay busy, not just with golf, fishing and occasionally relaxing, but he helped local farmers during harvest season, kept up a garden at home and worked on home improvement projects.

He was a man who kept his word and meant what he said. He raised a good family and kept a roof over their head. In an age of broken promises and half-hearted efforts, my father's life is a shinning example.

I'm proud to say that Maurice Shuster was my father and I'm going to miss him. A lot.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

Finally!On the Silver Screen!!!

Yep!I finally made it. Sunday, October 28th, Vampire Biker Babes reached the silver screen at the Channelside Cinema in Tampa, Florida. It seemed like a dream, but I made it.

There weren't any searchlights, no red carpet, the Vampire Biker Babes limo didn't make it and there were no throngs of fans. All that was fluff; what was important was the people who were there. Everybody had fun, and best of all, the people who made it happen from Director/Writer/Etc. Walt Jenkins through the investors, the cast, crew and the hard-ridin', Harley-driven extras got their moment in the spotlight.

I had plenty of backup in the audience. There were my sister and nephew, Em and Chris, and Marcia, Cowboy and Samantha. There was even a fan of my writing who saw something about it in the paper on Friday and brought another convention regular with him for it.

I got a charge out of seeing myself on the big screen and I was overwhelmed by the compliments from everyone afterwards, as well as the laughs I got during the movie. For all of that I am eternally grateful.

There are those naysayers that will try to rain on my parade, but I just think to that great line that Robert DiNiro delivered in The King of Comedy: "Better to be king for a night than schmuck for a lifetime."

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Untitled -- Part II

(Note: I couldn't choose between these titles: After the Flood, Chaos Theory, All's Well That End's Well, Crawling from the Wreckage, among others.)

So, what happened you ask? Was it as fun as you thought? What did you do, what colors did you paint, blah, blah, blah!

Well, home improvement projects are like beating your head against a wall; it feels so good when you're done. For the most part things came out okay. The place has been painted a chill shade of blue, I have some new furniture, and things are back to normal.

But, there were the disruptions, the endless parade of delivery people and contractors, the waiting, the screw-ups (both mine and other people's) and the trauma of "did I get the best deal". All of that is soul-sucking agony that I don't wish to go through again any time in the near future.

As I've said before, I'm not a handy-man type. But during this ordeal, I became quite adept at assembling shelving and other minor pieces of furniture. I even found tools that I forgot I had that made the projects go smoothly. I even found that I'm a lot handier than I thought.

There's still boxes (though not as many) sitting around the house. There's still lots arranging and rearranging to be done. But there's light at the end of the tunnel. Things have turned out for the best, and I'm headed to two a couple of conventions in October to promote and sell my books and DVDs of the movie, Vampire Biker Babes.

Maybe I'll even write more in this blog, hee, hee, hee.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Monday, September 17, 2007

Untitled -- Part I

(Note: I couldn't choose between these titles: After the Flood, Chaos Theory, All's Well That End's Well, Crawling from the Wreckage, among others.)
For those of you who may not have heard (and have wondering where the hell I've been for a couple of months), I have been in the middle of Home Improvement Hell. This was something I have wanted to do for some time, but never got around to it. However, the Universe has a sense of humor and becomes bored very quickly with the mantra of, "one of these days!"

My tale of woe began at Midnight, July 2nd. I just returned from my family reunion in Indiana. My plane was a couple of hours late, but I was happy to return home to Florida. I opened the door, expecting to catch up on my mail, etc., and then get a good night's sleep.

But alas, it was not to be. The next several hours would be spent with the 24-hour customer service at my insurance company, the water remediation people, figuring out where the water was coming from, and trying to figure out what to do next. After all, this is not something I deal with on a regular basis. I was sort of learning as I went.

The weeks after were a long ordeal. I woke up each morning and was put to sleep each night by the hum of drying fans and dehumidifiers. In the middle of all this, my air conditioner decided it couldn't deal, so it began to die. I had to juggle that with all of the other contractors I would have to deal with.

Then in the middle of all of this chaos, I got the brilliant idea to do a complete renovation. New paint job, new appliances, new everything. Nothing new had been put into the place in years, so I figured what the heck. The insurance company was cooperative by cutting me a check on the spot (literally, they printed out a check to me on a portable printer!). I would dig into my own funds to do the rest. It would be fun and it would be so cool when it was done.

Well, you wanna hear how this turns out. Some of you home owners already know, but I don't want to ruin for everyone else. More in Part II!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address

Tuesday, June 19, 2007

An Avalanche of Abundance

It's been a while since last I posted. However, fear not!I have been busy with lots of good stuff. Some people interpret this as being "crazy" or "stressed", but I'm OK with it all. I don't mind hectic activity as long as it's going in a positive direction. As I've gotten older, I've learned to be more patient. The universe tends to unfold at its own pace. Sometimes it moves like a tectonic plate, sometimes like a tsunami, other times like a gentle breeze.

With the patience I've acquired, I've come to realize that it's not the big things that make the world move. It's really a whole lot of small things that push me constantly towards my goals and dreams. Let me suffice it to say that everything that's been happening is all for the good, with many more blessings coming my way.

Retrograde is back on the air and better than ever with a new web host at www.radioearnetwork.com. The UK version of my first book, Sevenacide is ready to be sent to the printer. Vampire Biker Babes is in the final stages of post-production and is getting ready for market. I'm heading to Indiana for my family's annual reunion. My health is good, my social life is solid, and all is well in my home life. I have temp assignment that's pushing me to the limit, and I'm in the zone with it. The money is there when I need it.

Life is good!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Saturday, April 28, 2007

Whatchaupto?

Things have been a little hectic, so rather than go into details, let me give you all the rundown:

I have two more performances left in The Sunshine Boys at the Glenridge Players. I've had a week off to recharge and I'm ready to finish up the run in style. My next acting gig!I got some stuff in the pipeline, so stay tuned.

I have seen the rough cut of Vampire Biker Babes and it looks good. Just a few technical tweaks and this movie will be ready to conquer the world! The release date is still TBD, but look for it to be available by early summer.

• Retrograde is on a hiatus, but will return soon. There's background stuff going on that I can't discuss, but just let me say it's all good.

I have finished my "next edition" edit of Sevenacide. The UK re-release date is pending. I'm also working on a couple of other writing projects that are still in the formulation stage (whatever that means!).

As you can see, things are going good, but the future is a bit unsettled. But, that's when things get the most interesting. Check back soon for the next chapter!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Sunday, April 15, 2007

My Space!My Way

As some of you may or may not know, I recently made the leap (with both feet) into the Wild West that is My Space. Since I'm a glutton for punishment, have three sites: www.myspace.com/sevenacide (for my writing), http://www.myspace.com/retrograderadio (for Retrograde Radio, my radio show) and http://www.myspace.com/robertshusterperformer (for my performance activities). Now, after spending a few months with these sites, I have some thoughts I'd like to share:

If you want me to be a friend, PLEASE have SOMETHING in common! Maybe you went to school with me!or did a show with me!are a fellow writer/actor/radio personality...or at least know me from somewhere. If not, send an e-mail explaining why you want me to add you. It doesn't take much, but have some kind of reason. There are three different sites, so there's lots of stuff to choose from.

And no, I am not nor do I support "friend whores". These are the people who are on a race to have the most friends on My Space. Though I would like to have more, I am NOT interested in having thousands of people who are just there just to inflate my numbers. I also don't want to be part of someone's master plan to have a Guinness record for most friends on My Space.

By the way (or is it BTW!), for all of you whoors, adult entertainers, spammers, and the rest of you: you will be denied and your comments will never see the light of day. I know you're looking for cool guys (or is it, kewl guys?), you like to shop and visit South Beach, Manhattan!oh, and BTW: you and all your friends have the same interests, etc. I might be hard up, but not that hard up!

Then there are the sites themselves. I keep my sites pretty much vanilla, with the stuff that Tom provided. So, to all of you who like to "pimp up" your sites with all sorts of crap: lighten up! Your site takes forever to load and is impossible to view. If you want to do that, go get a dot com site and go crazy.

Also while we're on the subject, the HTML heavy comments are way too much. I don't care how cute or "kewl" or outrageous or whatever you think they are. See my comments above.

But, enough of all of this complaining; let me get to the good stuff. My Space is a great tool for communicating with people. I have reconnected with a number of people and have met a lot of other people that I never would have me other wise. Of course, the price is right and it didn't require a degree in software engineering to get up in running. All this is what the Internet is REALLY about!that and snarky chatrooms!and porn!and weird rumors!and Photoshop pictures!lots of Photoshopped pictures!and!lots of wasted time!

Oh well, have fun and stop by and visit me in cyberspace sometime!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, March 27, 2007

Closing Doors

I had an aunt that passed away recently. She had lived a long, full life, though the last few years had been tough for her. She had suffered through several strokes, which left her barely able to speak. She was already blind in one eye, and the eyesight in the other was going as well. But she squeezed the last bit of juice out of life, still listening to the Chicago Cubs on the radio and enjoying sing-a-longs all the way to the end.

My aunt was also a poster girl for good karma. She spent most of her adult life doing things like teaching Sunday school, leading sing-a-longs at the same nursing home that she would spend her final days, and taking me and my cousins to the movies (usually beach blanket, Jerry Lewis, or a Disney movie). She was a good soul and it all came back to her in final years of her life. As I said, she ended up in the nursing home where she used to lead sing-a-longs. Many of the people who worked there, lived there and/or knew people who lived there, stopped by to see her. She touched a lot of people along the way, more than she could have every imagined. They in turn, made sure her final years were as comfortable as possible.

But, with her passing, another door to my past has closed forever and has been bolted shut. There were all those little things; the memories, the traditions, the people that have passed on before her. There's always one more question I wish could have asked or one more story that I wish I could have heard. As I get older, this gets more common.

It sucks getting old!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Shut Up and Write!!!

I get advice. A lot of advice. Some of it good, some of it bad and some!well, I just have to let roll off my back. I don't know what it is. Maybe I look pathetic, or maybe it's because I'm a nice guy (or that's how I appear to most people) and people just want to help me. Regardless, I am never at a loss for suggestions, which if acted upon, would guarantee me fame, fortune and the love of beautiful women everywhere.

Then, there is the famous line, "let me give you some professional advice". This usually comes at a convention and is usually given by one of the "names" in the business. The advice starts out as a thinly veiled insult and is concluded with a sales pitch for their "writing boot camp", editing services or some other pitch to get inside my wallet.

Of course, not all advice is shrugged off. I was at a show and a very polite woman (who worked for a major bookstore chain) gave me a display tip that I now use all of the time. So, (at the risk of being redundant) my advice to anyone who wants to give me advice is to use some manners.

Make no mistake, I appreciate the fact that someone thought enough of me to stop in their tracks and give me a couple of minutes of their time to further my career. However, because I get so much of it; some of it redundant, some of it impractical and a lot of it ill-timed, I have to filter it in order to keep moving forward. If I followed up on every suggestion given to me, I would have precious little time to carry on my day-to-day activities. This leads me to the point of this installment in my blog.

I have a chorus of people who question what I do; that is, in addition to writing, I act and have a weekly radio show. I also spend a great deal of time in promoting not only my books, but the above mentioned activities. They say, "You spend too much time at conventions!you keep doing plays!that radio show sucks, stop wasting your time!just write, do nothing else. Just write, goddammit!!!"

They have a point. I have a tendency to spread myself thin. The last two years I've logged more frequent flier miles than an overworked stewardess. I do spend a great deal of time working on my radio show, Retrograde. All this, while still hustling day jobs anywhere I can find them. The beehive of activity that is my life is a bit all-consuming. But, if you look at the big picture, you'll see the method to my madness.

Do I "write" every day? By that, does it mean that I sit at my keyboard every day for certain amount of time pounding out the Great American Novel? The answer is no. However, every day I'm writing SOMETHING. It might be e-mails, ad copy, board postings, letters, play dialogue, articles, web site content (I now have seven of them that need to be fed on a regular basis) and occasionally, this blog.

Again, I thank everyone for all of their advice. Now, it's time for me to shut up!and go back to writing.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

2006: The Final Word -- Losses

With January rapidly coming to a close, it's time to put 2006 behind me. As with every year, there are losses that occur that make one reflect on our own mortality. This year there were that stood out for me. One was an institution, the other was a person.

The institution was CBGB's in New York. Its demise was sudden, but not unexpected. Sort of like a relative that seems to be in ill health for so long, it's hard to remember when they were well. Then, like a shot, they pass on. I found out at Screamfest in October from none other that P.J. Soles (aka Riff Randle, the Ramones biggest fan in Rock 'n Roll High School). She was sporting a CBGB classic black t-shirt and was dismayed as much as everyone else. There was no time to try and make a last ditch trip to New York to catch the final show with none other than Patti Smith performing.

So, in true 21st century fashion, I caught the final show on the Internet via CBGB's web cam. Patti was in rare form, singing covers of Dead Boys and Yardbirds songs mixed in with her own material. In the end, she shrugged it off, saying that the kids would find other CBGB's to make their own. I reminded me of Tony Wilson in 24 Hour Party People on the final evening of the Hacienda, except Patti didn't tell people to strip the walls bare and open their own club. After all, it was New York City.

The other loss was a former rugby teammate, Chris Shaw. He passed away in 2006 after a valiant battle with cancer. We were probably opponents in DC back in the 80's, he playing for Western Suburbs and myself playing for the Washington Irish. Anyway, we both arrived in Sarasota at the end of our careers, a little past our "sell by" dates. Chris had a bit more left than I did.

He wasn't a superstar; just one of those solid club rugby guys that showed up for games, fund raisers, practices, etc. without fail and without complaint. He was also a cop who fought to make Sarasota a better place for his wife and five children. I'll miss him as a rugby player, but I'll miss him even more as a fellow human being. My thoughts and prayers go out to him and his family.

Patti is right; there'll be other CBGB's. Maybe the next one will be an online-cyber place. But, there was only one Chris Shaw, and the world will never see another like him. Of the two losses, I'll miss him the most.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, January 2, 2007

525,600 Minutes!

525,600 minutes!how do measure a year? Jonathan Larson spoke volumes when he wrote those lyrics. For each of us, it's a unique story. So, with Christmas and New Year's in the can, I'm pausing to reflect on my 525,600 minutes!or 365 days!52 weeks!12 months!a year in my life.

In 2006 I finished my fourth book and my first major role in motion picture. I made two trips to California for two World Conventions (Horror in San Francisco, Science Fiction in Anaheim). I took a two week road trip through the Midwest and lived to tell about it. I added three more websites (two My Space sites and an Author's Den site, more about those at the end) in an effort to increase my web presence.

For Robert Shuster, it was another year of growth and surprise. New relationships were started, old ones were regenerated and some were ended. I learned much about myself and the world around me.

What does 2007 hold for me? A recharged Retrograde Radio, a play (The Sunshine Boys) in April, two conventions (FX in Orlando in January and Staple in Austin, TX in March). And the much anticipated movie, Vampire Biker Babes!the word around the campfire is that it should be out by mid-March. At least that's what's on the books so far.

2007 is shaping up to be the year of the payoff. Years of hard work and my nose pressed to the grindstone are preparing to pay dividends. To find out more, check this blog or go to the other web sites:

www.sevenacide.com -- my writing
www.retrograde-radio.com -- my radio show
www.robertshuster.com -- everything else!but you're already here!
My new web sites
www.myspace.com/sevenacide - the Sevenacide My Space
http://www.authorsden.com/robertshuster - my Author's Den site
http://www.myspace.com/retrograderadio - the Retrograde My Space

I hope everyone had a great Holiday Season and best wishes in 2007!


To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Thursday, December 7, 2006

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

As the end of the year (I'm sure this will be the first of many) rolls around, I begin to reflect on the events of this year. Probably one of the biggest was my involvement in the film, Vampire Biker Babes.

This is my first big film role (as opposed to the short, The Beach Ball and my five minute, don't-blink-you'll-miss-me appearance in Fat Chance). The editing process is starting, and with a little luck, the film should be ready for viewing by early 2007. The process has had its ups and downs, with far more ups than downs. However, to recap the whole process, I will use the title of one of my favorite spaghetti westerns: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.

The Good: There were some shots that hit on first take that were nothing more than miraculous. In one scene, I had to fall backwards while fiberboard and other debris were thrown on me. This was to give the impression that a ceiling had cave in on me. I had to fall at the right time without breaking my neck and the debris throwers had to throw their stuff at the right time and at the right angles. We hit it in one take!WOHOO!!!

The Bad: The delays and the waiting. August and September had rain nearly every day, killing any outdoor shots. There was the hot Florida summer weather, making outdoor shots uncomfortable (when it wasn't raining) and even indoor shots tough (you can't have an A/C unit churning in the background, drowning out dialogue!). Finally there was the minor irratents like rewrites, blown lines, erratic special effects, and all of the other glitches that make a low-budget film fun.

The Ugly: It's amazing what you can create with a little money. Some of the behind the scenes magic amazes me and I was there to see it happen. I saw rough cut of a finished scene the other day and I was stunned. With all happened during the film, the fact the a finished scene came out of it was nothing short of amazing. But, to see that rough cut look as good (and in some cases BETTER!) as a lot of the low-budget horror that's out there!well, you'll have to wait for the movie!

So, when the movie is available, either at the theaters, on DVD or as a download (or any combination of the before mentioned), I'll let you know here. Until then, you can get a feel for some of the behind the scenes action on You Tube at http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=vbbthemovie , and for those of you who are curious about my first short, The Beach Ball, you can catch that on You Tube as well at http://www.youtube.com/profile?user=utubuler .

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Monday, November 20, 2006

The Christmas Creep

The Christmas Creep!what's that you ask? A close cousin of the Grinch, or some new horror movie villain? No, it's not a person or a creature, it's a trend. Yes, the Christmas Creep is a disturbing trend that threatens to destroy not only life as we know it, but Christmas itself.

The Christmas Creep, as I define it, is the growing encroachment of the "Holiday Season" into the rest of the year. For example, the traditional demarcation of the year was based on certain holidays. Summer officially began on Memorial Day weekend. School always started the day after Labor Day. Likewise, the official beginning of the Christmas holiday was the day after Thanksgiving.

However, over the years, this has been pushed out. The trend has been gradual, but steady. As a result, stores have been cramming their shelves with Christmas decorations, candy and cards since Halloween. Television commercials extolling the virtues of buying your significant other expensive jewelry or children the latest toys have been on the air since early October. On the back end, Christmas goods stay on the shelves well into the New Year, and are only replaced because of the oncoming Valentine's blitz.

In today's bottom line, money-grubbing, do-anything-for-a-buck society, Christmas means squeezing every last dollar out of the consumer and blasting ads from every angle possible the maximize sales. But in doing so, they've cheapened the Christmas spirit by numbing people to the season. When Christmas day does arrive, most people are so burned out that they could care less.

As for me, I love Christmas. There is nothing so beautiful as the calm and quiet of Christmas Eve and the joy of Christmas Day. I've been dead broke and flush with cash and it doesn't matter. I still make it a point to enjoy Christmas the best I can regardless of the resources at hand.

But enough all ready. Please, let me enjoy Halloween and Thanksgiving in peace. I'll keep Christmas in my own way: from the day after Thanksgiving until Christmas Day.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Wednesday, November 1, 2006

Part II - And the road goes on forever

I was checking this blog and!sheez! When last I checked in, I was in Chicago. It seems like a hundred years ago. To recap, here's what's been happening:

Reading at Red Lion: I read a selection from Phase II at the Red Lion Pub during one of the worst storms in recent years. So bad that people lost power for a nearly a week afterwards. Thanks to everyone that showed up on a "night not fit for neither man nor beast." They were rewarded with scary stories told with a backdrop befitting a 1930's Universal Studios monster movie.

Mom and Dad: Doing fine. I worry about them as much as they worry about me now. They have their health and the peace and quiet of rural Indiana. All in all, a pleasant and relaxing stay.

Conclave: After a bit of a cock-up (as they say across the pond!) on the table, I had a good weekend. Interestingly, I met a couple of movie people (yes, they also shoot movies in Detroit!) at the Con, along with a lot of nice people. I also had some of the best nights sleeps ever at the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Romulus, near the Detroit Airport. Honest!

All the way home: I left Conclave on Sunday and headed south. By late Monday, I reach the Florida Panhandle and had a chance to visit with my friend Carol. I spent the night and part of a day there, enjoying the sights (though briefly) and then heading south again. I finally finished my odyssey late Tuesday night.

ScreamFest: I had just enough time to do a couple of loads of laundry, opening my snail mail and then, heading off to Orlando. There, in the middle of the Kingdom of the Mouse, a hearty band of horror freaks gathered to celebrate all that is scary. That being said, I sold lots of books, continued to spread the word on Vampire Biker Babes and had a chance to interview two people (Jane Wiedlin of the Go-Go's and P.J. Soles (Riff Randle in Rock and Roll High School) for Retrograde Radio, which is scheduled to return in January.

The Long Weekend: The weekend after ScreamFest saw me have three book singings and an all-day (literally!!!) trip to Biketoberfest in Daytona in support of Vampire Biker Babes. At this point, it's all becoming a blur.

Necronomicon: The weekend after that, it was off to Tampa for the 25th annual Necronomicon. If nothing else, this is a great convention to see some of the many people who over the years have supported me along the way. Thank you each and every one of you! I also had one my weirdest sales patterns as well. After a slow Friday, and a disappointing Saturday, the floodgates opened on Sunday. Usually it's a slow Friday, busy Saturday, and a slow Sunday. Oh well, whatever!I'm just grateful!

Well, even edited, this covers a lot of ground. I'm just a couple of days from my last convention of the year, Something Wicked This Way Con. Other than a couple of pickup shots, Vampire Biker Babes is done. Things are winding down, the leaves are turning (up north anyway!), Christmas stuff is up in the stores, baseball season is done, football season is getting heated and basketball season is not far away. Soon, Gulf Coast of Florida will be filled with the sounds of the season (OOOOOOOOOH MYYYYYYYY GAAAAAAAD, WEEEERE FROM MICHIGAN!!!) and another year will be gone. I gotta stop before I get too mushy.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Monday, October 2, 2006

Road Trip - Part I

Well, I'm approaching the half-way point of my road trip. I got to Chicago last night after a tiring weekend in Fort Wayne, IN. I had a little more excitement then I wanted, but it was all good.

The drive there wasn't bad. I got just over the Kentucky line on Wednesday and got to Fort Wayne and my place of residence for the weekend, Carole Lombard House (see http://www.carolelombardhouse.com for more info -- BTW, I stayed in the Clark Gable Room!very posh!) on
Thursday afternoon. That night I visitied a couple of my old watering holes; Deer Park and O'Sullivans. Much booze was consumed and a good time was had by all.

I woke up to a delicious breakfast at the House and spent most of the day driving around looking at all of the changes in Fort Wayne and at the University of Saint Francis. They both have come a long way. I was good boy that night, going out for a good dinner at Paula's Seafood and getting to bed by 9:00 PM (my!how I've changed!)

The next day I did double duty at the Saint Francis alumni baseball and soccer games. To some it up!boy, did I suck! I also got more action than I could imagine. I played right field in the baseball game and botched the throw on one of the few balls hit my way. I struck out on my only plate appearance (I struck out swinging, at least!)

The soccer game wasn't much better. Playing out of position from my college goalie days (when in doubt, use an excuse!), I struggled to chase down the ball and opposition alike. But, hey, it was all in fun!right?

Well, my body didn't think so. As I write this on Monday, I'm still sore from Saturday. Memo to self: get in better shape before you do this next time!

Anyhow, the highlights of the weekend were my reconnection with my friends, both old and new. My soccer and baseball teammates were forgiving to an old goat trying to catch a little lightning one more time. It was great to see my old college running buddies Skev and the Dude one more time. It was also great to see the Dude's son, a senior on the Saint Francis soccer team, complete the circle of life. There's talk of a father/son alumni soccer match up next year!

It was a fun and painful day. All three sports teams won (the men's and women's soccer, and the football team!barely!!!), I joined Dude and his son for dinner, and by 10:00!I was ready for bed. God, am I old!!!

I met Dude for breakfast on Sunday, then bade farewell to Rick and Cora, the proprietors of the Carole Lombard House. If you ever go to Fort Wayne, stay there. They're good people, the house is beautiful and the breakfasts are excellent.

Speaking of good people, I stopped on my way to Chicago and visited John, a guy I knew from high school and his wife Barb. I won't go into details, but it was one of those pleasant afternoons with good people that you wished went on forever. I didn't keep up with him much past high school, but I suffice it to say, I missed a lot not doing so. They were a delight and I plan to see them again when I come to town.Lesson learned: reach out to someone you haven't seen in a while. It's worth your time to do so.

Tonight, it's a reading at the Red Lion Pub, then off to Mom and Dad in Indiana, then on to Detroit and Conclave. See you on the road!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

Travelin' Man!The Road Goes on Forever

It's early morning; I'm sipping on a cup of fresh-brewed coffee. I have a reading tomorrow (The Bookshop in Venice!see www.sevenacide.com for all of the details) and I just need a quick little rehearsal and I'm set. Of all the things in the world, nothing beats a good cup of coffee in the morning.

I'm less than a week away from the beginning of my first real road trip in support of my books. This journey will take me to the Midwest and back to Florida, where over a six week period I will appear at four conventions, have another four signings and play both baseball and soccer in the same day. On top of all of that, I'll be driving like I got an eighteen-wheeler.

The Midwest portion is shaping up to be a bit of a disappointment. Due to circumstances beyond my control, the signings I have in the Midwest are not as plentiful as I would want. There were too many missed opportunities, missed deadlines, miscommunications, unreturned phone calls and e-mails, and untold miscellaneous blunders to make things happen the way I wanted. Oh well, so it goes!

The Florida leg will make up for all of this. Everywhere I turn, I've got a convention or a signing. Then, sandwiched in between, is an appearance at Biketober Fest in support of Vampire Biker Babes. Yep, that movie. It's not finished, but damn close. With a little luck, this movie will be done sometime after Halloween and before Thanksgiving. So it goes!

I'm also looking forward to the New Year. A sequel to the above mentioned movie. My return to the boards in April 2007 in "The Sunshine Boys" (as Ben, the befuddled nephew of one of the "Boys"). Rumors of a trip to Vegas to celebrate the big 5-0. Another book, maybe two. A UK invasion by Sevenacide. All this, and maybe more. So it goes!

There's a change in there. Summer is conceding its grip to the cooler air of Fall. The winds of change are softly blowing. Something's coming, something good!if I can wait. Here go!on the road again. There I go!turn the page.

(Note: Many apologies to Lynyrd Skynyrd, The Allman Brothers, Patti Smith, Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. and Bob Seeger!but WTF, I'm in an eclectic and introspective mood. Go figure!)

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net. Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Wednesday, September 6, 2006

Decompression Depression

Finally, I'm back from the West Coast, and boy...ARE MY ARMS TIRED!!!

Yeah, whatever...I'm just now decompressing. How can one man have so little going on and have so little time to do it. I haven't done so little day work (or night work for that matter!)since I started this whole odyssey started. You'd think with all of this free time, I'd be going like an out-of-control freight train. But, no...I sometimes just find myself wandering about trying to figure out what to do next. Promoting Phase II, finishing Vampire Biker Babes, working on restarting Retrograde Radio, and just catching up on the daily crappola that life hands me.

I sent a short piece to Microhorror (www.microhorror.com)that got posted. My friend Carol almost had a meltdown over it, that is until she read the last paragraph. Let that be a lesson to anyone who reads my stuff: read it all, read it carefully and read it to the end. Especially with my short stuff!

So how did my first WorldCon go? Well, it was a blur. Nearly a week of hustling and bustling with nary a chance to breathe. Maybe that's why I'm in the mode I'm in. Anyway, I want to give megashouts out to my tablemates (since I practically lived with them for five days!):

David and Kathleen at Monstrous Movie Music (http://www.mmmrecordings.com), I enjoyed the music they played and the company
Jetse at Interzone/TTA Press (http://www.ttapress.com), thanks for the party (and the mags!)
And, the Haunted Memories table (http://www.hauntedmemories.com)...haunted memories and the priceless looks of the people!

As far as the convention itself, probably the best way to describe it is with a rambling stream of consciousness:

To the airport while it's still dark, making weight with my bags, change planes in Atlanta, arrive OK, jet lag and 14 hours of sleep, best damn buffet ever at Marriott, set-up, meet and greet, search for food, damn, Anahiem reminds me of Orlando, search for parties, wake-up and repeat, dissed by Janis "At Seventeen" Ian (if I want depressing, I'll listen to Morrissey!), listen to monster music, narrow minds, "Who are you?", a dollar here and a dollar there, one half of the Four Redheads of the Apocalypse, drinking Scandinavian vodka (but not too much!!!), building the fan base one fan at a time, start again, make some headway, make some contacts, Scientologists, tempting stuff in the dealers room, doing without sleep, home slices from Chicago (great Italian beef!!!), a classic Harlan Ellison tantrum, WTF is up with all of this alternative history books (flavor of the month?) nice people, cool staff, fond farewells, holding over Atlanta, two hours late to Sarasota, coming home, opening mail, be at the day job bright-eyed at 7 AM, sleep in my own bed.

And that's my trip...a long, strange one

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Weekend of Horror

The great pro wrestler and one-half of the Minnesota Wrecking crew, Arn Anderson (in a long ago TV promo) once described Baltimore as a city, "!born and bred on violence". So, what better place to hold a convention dedicated horror and all of its resulting brutality than Baltimore. Well!not quite Baltimore. More like Hunt Valley, Maryland. But, it was close enough.

After a long absence I returned to Horror Find Weekend, the spookiest show on Earth. With me for the weekend were Angelina Robinson, and her merry band: Dria (who chauffeured me through Baltimore's polite and well-mannered traffic), Ken, Tony and Ryan. Also with the group was Nick Grabowsky, his wife and later (literally emerging from the MIA section) Garry Charles, who somehow made it through security from the UK and got to Horror Find.

After a scenic trip to Angelina's crib deep in the wilds of Delmarva and a hearty breakfast, the group (sans Garry, as he was still unaccounted for) made its way to the convention. However, the trip took longer than expected and we got there in just enough time to open shop and greet the torrent of conventioneers.

By the end of the first day, I nearly fell asleep on my feet. I had been up for nearly twenty-four hours straight and I was more than likely incoherent. Just like a zombie with a well-programmed memory bank.

The rest of the convention went much better. It's amazing what sleep will do. I had the opportunity to meet lots of new people and see some of my Canadian horror friends. I want to give a special shout out to Marcy Italiano (www.marcyitaliano.com) who read from her soon to be published (any publisher that doesn't pick this up is either stupid or crazy) book about her and her husband experiences at ground zero in New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina.

Oh, and George Romero!I got to meet him. On Sunday, when the lines had dwindled to less than a quarter mile, I made my play. After a little patience, I got to see the great one and handed him a copy of Phase II (it being a zombie book and all!). When I did and explained the plot, he shook his head and laughed. Not in a mean way, just the way someone does when they're tired and have been handed one more off-the-hook item. He was a nice guy and I look forward to working with him someday.

I hate to cut this short, but as LL Cool J would say!"I'm goin back to Cali"!Worldcon/LACon (see www.laconiv.org) that is. Wish me luck!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, August 8, 2006

Hot Enough for Ya!

I was back in Indiana a few weeks ago for a family reunion. Despite the fact that Indiana is quite a distance from the near-tropical weather of Florida, the heat was stiff ling. If you combine that with the lack of air-conditioning in a number of places, mid-July in Indiana can be more than a little uncomfortable.

However, having lived in Florida for fifteen years, I've adapted. As much as my thin blood is against me in the winter, during the summer it's a blessing. Besides, Indiana doesn't have oppressive humidity that Florida has. In addition, where parents live is far out in the country. Even on the most scalding days, a breeze will hit you some point. Also, there are a number of large shade trees that dot the old homestead, keeping the temperature from going from bake to self-clean.

But, the family members that live in Wisconsin and Michigan were in a snit. As chilly as Indiana can get, Wisconsin and Michigan are ice boxes in the winter. There short summers, though sometimes heavy with mosquitoes, are cool and dry. My older brother who lives in Wisconsin kept checking the thermometer and gave reports regularly on the steady climb in temperature. Others grumbled that the family reunion should be move to October in order to avoid the heat.

I suffered in silence. Again, having lived in Florida as long as I have, I made no sense to complain. At least there were no hurricanes or industrial strength thunderstorms. Besides, it only real intolerable from 3-6 in the afternoon. At least it cooled off in the mornings and afternoons. And it wasn't as bad as it could have been

Some time ago, I was surfing through the Internet to find weather information to prepare for my trip; I stumbled across an interesting fact. Almost seventy years to the date, while we were complaining about the temperature in the ninety's on July 14, the Collegeville, Indiana (Collegeville is adjacent to Rensselaer and is home to St. Joseph's College) weather station recorded the all-time record high for the entire state of Indiana at 116 degrees. Yep, 116. With no air-conditioning, few fans or electric refrigeration. I bet any of those people would have LOVED a day in the 90's.

I asked my dad about that time period, and he remembered that it was Dust Bowl like conditions. Crops just burned up, animals suffered with the humans and life in that farming country was nearly wiped out. All you could do was sit on the porch and fan yourself.

So!it can get worse. Just pray it doesn't.

PS -- Here's the link to the info: http://www.ncdc.noaa.gov/oa/pub/data/special/maxtemps.pdf

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, August 1, 2006

The Waiting is the hardest part!

Tom Petty said it all. I'm waiting for the final proof of my book!waiting to find out when my last few scenes of Vampire Biker Babes will be shot!waiting for my next road trip!etc!etc!

It seems like only yesterday I was going peddle to the metal, full tilt, balls to the wall. And now!something I have a hard time with!free time. Don't get me wrong, I love it. It's nice not having to worry about what "event" I'm in next in the decathlon of life. But, idle hands are more than the devil's workshop: they can make me crazier than if I was busy.

When my schedule has big gaps in it, I get paranoid that I may be forgetting something. It's like the person that always has to go back into the house before a long trip to make sure the gas is turned off and all of the windows are locked. I get nervous if I'm not "doing something". I make mental notes throughout the day of "what have I accomplished" and I ask myself, "What else needs to be done?" For me, there is no greater fear than wasted time.

I guess that's something I need to conquer. To lay back and enjoy the slow spells, to take time and enjoy some peace and quiet. Maybe sit back and take on that ever growing pile of unread books that I have accumulated.

Or, maybe write a little more frequently in this blog!!!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Sunday, July 2, 2006

Escape from San Francisco

(Note: This is well after the fact, but bear with me!I've been busy, trust me!)

The rest of the World Horror Convention was quite a blur. Lots of new faces, renewed acquaintances and strange times. Seems like the ghost of Hunter S. followed me to one of his old stomping grounds.

The rest of the weekend was slow. But, every now and then, someone would come up out of nowhere and change things. First, I met Angel. Not someone with wings, but Angelina Robinson (www.losthunger.com), another up and coming author. Long story short, she will be sharing a table with me at HorrorFind Weekend in Baltimore in August.

I also saw an excellent indy film called Death by Engagement. For more info on it, go to the Internet Movie Database (imdb.com for short!) and check out my review. BTW, a big thank you for Pennie Orcutt, the executive producer, for talking up this film!it was great!

The rest of the weekend was spent in the Dealer's Room, on a panel that I knew F-All about, drinking heavily and enjoying Pacific Rim restaurants. Then came the day I left town. This would be an oddyssey (as opposed to an odyssey, because things would get odd!).

I should've known it was going to be a long trip when "Team SFO" gave me an extra going over. I forgot my cell phone in my side pocket of my painter pant jeans, and bam!a little extra TLC from the TSA. When I asked how long it would take, the delightful chap at Team SFO said, "two hours". When I panicked, he chuckled and said, "Just kidding"!whatever.

A got on my flight and when I made my transfer in Houston, only to find the plane was overbooked. At first they offered a $300 voucher, but I begged off. Then, the amount went to $500 and I thought, WTF. I take the voucher, food credits and a night in a motel in Houston. Also taking this offer was a woman who was headed for Sarasota/Bradenton Airport as well. The woman, Jude, and I ended up keeping each other company and working together to navigate Pappy Bush Airport, which BTW is the most screwed-up airport I've ever been in.

This was evidenced by the ground transportation. Apparently, the airline had LOTS of people who were stranded in Houston for one reason or another. Not knowing this, Jude and I took our time, went to a seafood restaurant and had a quiet, civilized meal. When we contacted the motel we were staying at, they said it would take two hours to get a shuttle to the airport to pick us up. So, we wandered the airport looking for the central ground transport area. I've been in JFK, O'Hare, and god knows how many other airports and Bush Airport is nearly unfindable. After a great deal of wandering and asking some of the remaining airport employees where it was, we finally found the taxi stand (BTW, there are two in this airport, LOL!). So, Jude and I got a cab and got to the motel for a few hours of sleep. It was one of those just-off-the-interstate jobs, but hey!I got some shuteye.

The next morning started out a lot smoother. The motel shuttle got us to the airport and all was well. But, it happened again. Another overbooked flight, and I got a $400 voucher, more food credits and a flight out on another airline. This flight would have another stop in Atlanta. Oh well!ya gotta love them free flight vouchers!

The final leg was very interesting in its own way. The woman sitting next to me had brought her dog on in her carry-on. She even had it sitting on her lap for most of the trip. Don't ask me!I nearly got hauled off because I had my cell phone. What next!people riding on planes with goats and chickens like some third world jitney.

Well, I got home safe and sound. The next couple of months are going to have trips to Indiana, Baltimore and Anaheim. Somewhere in the middle I have a book to finish, a movie to complete, a play reading and a couple of auditions. The summer is just heating up!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Friday, May 12, 2006

Opening Day at WHC 2006

Maybe I should have titled this "The Longest Day". I woke up at 5:30 AM local time, which is 8:30 AM Sarasota time (gotta love them time zones). I decided to make the most of my free time (Dealer Room set-up at Noon, open at 2PM)to go on a foot tour of the neighborhood. For me, that means a good breakfast at the start of the day.

The hotel breakfast buffet started at 6:30 AM, so decided to go down there just after that opened. I would get the food while it was still fairly fresh and the place would be uncrowded.

When I walked in at 6:40 AM, I was mortified. The place was packed! There was no hostess to seat me and I was told to find a seat anywhere. The hotel is apparently a favorite of the European tour groups, so the crowd was mostly older German, British, French, etc. They too were readying themselves for the busy day ahead.

It was no problem until I went for seconds. When I returned, a small women in her early sixties was seated facing me in the table for two where I had been sitting. At first I thought that they were doubling up individual diners. As I approached her, she began to wag her finger at me. "No, no, no", she said in a heavy accent. She pointed at the empty chair and said, "My husband".

I looked down at the empty chair and saw a couple of pills there, presumably her husband's. "The pills are down", I thought to myself. I gave up and after a short tour of the rester aunt, I found another place to sit down. The manager apologized profusely, but the damage was done. So much for the hotel breakfast buffet!

On the map, Chinatown wasn't far from the hotel. However, in San Francisco, the hills can make a short walk into an expedition. After an arduous walk, I made it too Chinatown. The work made the trip worth it. Though it was early, the place was teeming with life. I went into a little tea shop, and after several free samples (thank you Karena for your hospitality!), I left with some medicinal tea and brewing supplies. I'm not much of a tea drinker, but what the heck!

I made it back to the hotel, tired and ready to set up my table. That went quickly and after a delicious lunch of Vietnanese food, I went to work.

Things got off to a slow start sales wise, but as usual, the networking was great and the renewal of old acquaintances was fantastic. After the dealer room closed, I finished off my day with the Morbid Curiosity Open Mic. Unfortunatly, it didn't get started until 11:15 PM (2:15 AM Sarasota time). I got up and spoke last, but by that time it was 1:00 AM (4:00 AM Sarasota time!). All in all, it was a fun day, better than the day before. Tomorrow will be better...

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Thursday, May 11, 2006

The long strage trip...

Getting to San Francisco has been an experience. It started on Wednesday morning with a cab that took forever. With the season over in Sarasota, I think the hack industry has taken some time off too. I called a local cab company, was immediately put on hold, then when the answered returned, told me it would be, "15-20 minutes". Forty-five minutes later, I was on my way to the airport.

At the airport, I was told that one of my bags was weighing in at a "slim, trim 72 pounds". Most of this was attributable to the inventory of books I was carrying to the World Horror Convention. I had to quickly juggle the weight in order to meet the weight limit and not pay $25.00...or maybe throw some books to the curb. I jumped that hurdle, then ran the gauntlet of airport security for the privilege to be cooped up for the next 2 1/2 hours in a flying sardine can.

The transfer in Houston was a nightmare. I ran through the airport with my carry on (which weighed a ton from all of the books I was carrying). I made it just in time to board, only to find that the overhead bins were full and the bag would have be stowed. Reluctantly, I gave the bag to the flight attendant and found my seat for the next leg to San Francisco, which was a four hour delight.

On the plane, I broke down and bought two cans of beer(a Fosters and a Miller)to calm my nerves and wash down my chicken BBQ sandwich, salad and candy bar. I shouldn't complain: there's a child on a commuter plane in China that would've loved to have that...

I arrived in San Francisco worn-out, but relieved. I passed though the terminal (the airport security has shirts that read, "Team SFO"...oooh, betcha that scares the terrorists)and headed to baggage claim. My two bags that were checked back in Sarasota made it, but the one checked in Houston...MIA! After a minor meltdown in the baggage claim dept, I was told that the bag would be on a flight that arrived at 5:30 that afternoon (it was about 2:00 PM at this point). I reluctantly made my way to get ground transportation.

I ran into fellow horror writer Steven Shrewsberry on my out. He too was in town for the World Horror Convention and had a rough start to his trip and was looking for another writer, Brian Keene, who like my bag, was MIA. He continued his search for Brian while I went out to get ground transport to the hotel.

So far, the fear of bodily harm had not reared its ugly head. However, the chap driving the shuttle van could've scared a New York cabbie. This gent, an older Eastern Europeon, zipped through the San Francisco Bay traffic with no concern. And, as if to fit in with the day, my hotel was the last stop.

Now that I was at the hotel, I decided to hit the Happy Hour at the hotel bar. Half price appetizers and cheep beer could heal my wounds. I ordered chicken wings and potato skins, but the bartender kept insisting on me ordering calimari, which I declined. No matter, my potato skins arrived with...you guessed it, calimari. Again, I insisted I didn't want calimari, so he go me an order chicken wings.

However, all's well that ends well. By 9:00 that night, my bag arrived at the hotel and all was right with world. Tomorrow would be a new day...and it would be better than this!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

A Tale of Three Shots

Last week II got in three shots for Vampire Biker Babes. The first one on Monday night was a simple one that merely required me to do my dialogue with an off-screen person (ie, a police dispatcher) while munching on donuts. Once again, I had a wardrobe malfunction.
This time, I forgot a patch on my uniform. Luckily, my fellow law enforcement officer Mark lived nearby and was able to brig over one of his. With all of that off-screen drama out of the way, we nailed the shot in about 15 minutes.

The next shot took place late Saturday afternoon. This time I was working with a former rugby teammate and fellow Washington, DC transplant John Mulligan. He was portraying a priest who blesses the holy water for fighting the vampires while he's out in a graveyard. The scene only had two problems: overhead airplanes and passing cars. Everybody (cast and crew) worked their asses off and we got the scene done.

Sunday night we did the poker scene. This was with six actors of various level of experience. There were also some script rewrites. There were bugs and the first real Florida heat wave of the year. The whole shoot lasted at that location lasted nearly eight hours, with my portion lasting about four. Then most of that was spent trying to get my lines down and digest the script changes. But, you know, this comes with the territory.Welcome to the movie business, kid!

We're moving along with this sucker. Now, i's time to get ready to leave for
San Francisco and the World Horror Convention. Talk to you next from the City by the Bay!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, April 25, 2006

Let the shooting commence!!!

Well, the shooting has begun!for Vampire Biker Babes that is! We spent Wednesday and Thursday night at Popi's Place in Bradenton. The place is really cool; it's one of those inexpensive, home cooking type places that you rarely find. It has the classic booth/lunch counter décor that fits well for this movie. BTW, they have a web site at http://www.popisplace.com .

Anyway, my first night of shooting on Wednesday was a bit of cluster. I drove up to Bradenton, thinking I was early and ready to roll. First thing I find out once I'm there is!I FORGOT MY UNIFORM!!! Yes, the leading man, portraying Deputy Buddy Riggs, had left his uniform back in Sarasota. Smooth move!

So, after a 45-minute round trip excursion to Sarasota and back, a quick change and makeup, I was, "Ready for my close-up C.B." Unfortunately, they never got to my scene. It wasn't anybody's fault; that's just the way things go in movies. I've had that happen with rehearsals in theater, so it was no big thing. Besides, I think I needed some work on my lines anyway.

Thursday night was "Take Two". I waited nervously for my scene to come up. Wisely, I made sure I had my uniform and took the extra time to go over my lines. It all paid off in the end; I had a good shoot (along with the rest of my cast mates).

Friday, I had a chance to see the stills that were taken that night, and there were some good shots. Things are looking good so far, so stay tuned!more to come.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Saturday, April 22, 2006

Review: Wild Tigers I Have Known

(This is the fifth and final installment in a series of reviews of movies I will be seeing at the Sarasota Film Festival. For more information about the films and the film festival, go to http://www.sarasotafilmfestival.com)

On Saturday night, I saw my final film of the Festival, Wild Tiger I Have Known. This movie dealt with the anguish of Logan (Malcom Strumpf), a 13-year old boy who has is trying to come to terms with his homosexuality. He has a crush on an older "bad boy" type named Rodeo (Patrick White) and is frustrated in his awkward attempts to share his feelings with him.

As daring as this movie appears to be on the surface, I found it to be an utter disappointment. It uses pseudo art-house style cinematography and loopy psychobabble poetry to pad out this slow-moving train wreck. The young actors, most have little or no experience, seem uncomfortable with their dialogue. The whole movie seems to go no where, without a resolution. Even the title, Wild Tigers I Have Known, doesn't have any wild tigers, per say. Instead the "wild tigers" are nothing but a few cougars (or pumas, or some kind of wild cat!with this movie, the operative term is, "WHATEVER!") that are terrorizing a middle school. Somewhere, someplace, somehow, there is a metaphor; but I couldn't find it.

Logan, the supposedly "lonely" boy, actually has a close friend, Joey (Max Paradise). Logan treats Joey like dirt, spending time with him only out of boredom. His only show of affection is a lame attempt at drawing Joey into a penis measuring contest. Overall, Logan comes across as self-centered and selfish. He is hardly capable of any kind of relationship at any level, straight or gay.

Logan also shows himself to be a very creepy kid. Whether it's a penis measuring contest, creating an alter ego (AKA Leah) to con Rodeo into a tryst or dressing up like Rodeo's girlfriend and confronting her at her front door, this character is somewhere between Norman Bates and Chester the Molester on the likeability scale. Logan gives you the impression that he has a promising future either as a pedophile, drag queen, celebrity stalker or serial killer.

The one thing that did impress me was the performance of two of the adult characters; Fairuza Balk, who plays Logan's mother and Kim Dickens, who plays a school counselor. Both women do the best with the hand they are dealt, but in the end they are hamstrung by the short shift given to the adult characters in this film. Balk's character is never defined; we never know whether she is abusive or just loopy. Balk does well with both portrayals, but director Cam Archer can't seem to make up his mind which one to put forward. Archer also can't make up his mind with Dickens, who has a great scene early in the film, but she gets pushed aside for no apparent reason.

The school administration is also something out of an episode of "South Park". The attacking animal situation is dealt with by issuing wristbands and the attacks on Logan (which consist of a brief punch-up at a dance and a list of people that think he's a "fag"; he seems to be ignored more than abused by fellow classmates) by building a "Tolerance Totem" (believe or not Trey Parker and Matt Stone DID NOT get writing credits). Adults in Charlie Brown Specials get better treatment than they do in this movie.

Though this is Cam Archer's first full length feature, he has had several short films and two documentaries to his credit. Since two of his shorts dealt with young gay males (Bobbycrush and Godly Boyish), I would have thought Archer would have came up with a full-length film that would go against grain and would raise the bar for future films dealing gay youth issues.

Rather than dispelling gay stereotypes, this film actually builds on them. The message this film seems to put out that gay men are weird and have secret desires to be women. That's a shame. This movie could have taken not only gay cinema, but cinema as a whole to a higher level. Instead, all we get is a dull, dreary and unentertaining creep fest that does nothing advance cinema at any level, gay or straight.


To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Review: The Holy Modal Rounders: Bound to Lose

(This is the fourth in a series of reviews of movies I will be seeing at the Sarasota Film Festival. For more information about the films and the film festival, go to http://www.sarasotafilmfestival.com)

On Friday afternoon, I had the chance to see The Holy Modal Rounders: Bound to Lose, a documentary about the life and times of the psychedelic folk band, The Holy Modal Rounders. Any resemblance between this movie and the satiric, A Mighty Wind, end early on as we meet the founding members of the Rounders, Steven Weber and Peter Stampfel. Steven Weber is the classic wild and crazy bohemian, while the more subdued Peter Stampfel saves his mischievous streak for the stage. Both of them have over the years shaken up the sometimes pompous (yes, folk singers can get that way) and stodgy folk scene with a healthy dose of psychedelic irreverence.

The story follows the bands journey from their formation in New York's Greenwich Village folk scene, their work with the Fugs, the missed opportunities (their song, "If You Wanna Bird" was featured on the Easy Rider Soundtrack), the breakups and reunions. The movie collimates with the Rounders 40th Anniversary reunion that doesn't quite turn out the way it was planned. For any other band, this would be seen as a disaster; for the Holy Modal Rounders, it's business as usual.

The movie is a metaphor for the changes and life choices that many in the sixties generation either made or failed to make. Even if you're not a fan of their music, the journey of the Holy Modal Rounders as told by this documentary is still worth watching.

On a final note, Pete Stampfel of the Holy Modal Rounders was on hand at the screening. In addition to a short Q & A session, Pete was kind enough to play a short (but very enjoyable!) three song set, including the song, "Dook of the Beatniks".

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Sunday, April 9, 2006

Review: A Note of Triumph: The Golden Age of Norman Corwin & From Philadelphia to the Front

(This is the third in a series of reviews of movies I will be seeing at the Sarasota Film Festival. For more information about the films and the film festival, go to http://www.sarasotafilmfestival.com)

My second screening on Thursday was a double feature of short documentaries, both of which would appeal to the World War II, or anyone interested in the history of that era. The first, From Philadelphia to the Front, dealt with six Jewish men from Philadelphia who joined the military in World War II and their experiences during and after the war. The second, A Note of Triumph: The Golden Age of Norman Corwin, was account of one of the unsung legends of radio broadcasting, Norman Corwin.

From Philadelphia to the Front tells an important story in a quick moving, 37 minute piece. The interviews with the men, who served in varying capacities and branches of the armed forces, are direct and to the point. The men mince no words and give an earthy account of what it was like to be a Jew in the United States military service during the war. They also talk frankly about their post-war battles as well, in which they deal with subtle (and not so subtle) prejudices that they most confront.

Interspersed between the interviews is footage from the era. Both home front and combat footage and photographs are featured to give the viewer a sense of what was going on at the time. The documentary ends with the men gathering together in an old Philadelphia neighborhood deli. From Philadelphia to the Front is a poignant slice of American history that stayed with me long after the final credits rolled.

A Note of Triumph: The Golden Age of Norman Corwin takes a look at a bygone era in American radio broadcast history. The documentary looks at Norman Corwin's career in radio, collimating in his V-E Day radio program, A Note of Triumph. It also looks at the journey he took on his way to this pinnacle in his career.

Corwin was a radio pioneer who brough poetry and high level radio drama to the air. He also breathed life into our history with programs about the Bill of Rights that would feature such top Hollywood stars as Jimmy Stewart and Edward G. Robinson.

There are also interviews with such people as former radio man and author Studs Terkel and TV's Walter Cronkite, who bring to life Corwin's work and his effect on his audience. Audio clips from Corwin's shows bring the master's work to life. Not only is this movie a time capsule to radio's golden age, it's also a time capsule of America during the period after World War I and before the rise of television.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Saturday, April 8, 2006

Review: You're Gonna Miss Me

(This is the second in a series of reviews of movies I will be seeing at the Sarasota Film Festival. For more information about the films and the film festival, go to http://www.sarasotafilmfestival.com)

The second movie, and first of a two part selection movies on Thursday was You're Gonna Miss Me, a documentary about the life and times of Roky Erickson. Erickson, the legendary singer/songwriter with the psychedelic band, The 13th Floor Elevators, is profiled in a film that shows his highs (with and without legal and illegal drugs), his lows (again, with and without legal and illegal drugs), and the personal demons that plagued not only him, but his family and friends.

The first part of the movie focuses on Roky and his day to day struggles with basic life skills. His mother, who is sucked into Roky's maelstrom of madness, spends her time trying to help her son deal with the simplest of tasks (i.e., junk mail). We also see Roky tune out the rest of the world, other than his mother, with a constant barrage of television cartoons. In turn, she attempts to make some sort of sense of all of this with a combination of primitive art, yoga and a collection of pictures of the Erickson family from happier and distant past.

The sight of Roky in that state is painful. Roky (when he isn't watching the Cartoon Channel with sunglasses) meanders through a cluttered apartment, drifting in and out of coherency. He looks the Andy Griffith Show's Otis Campbell, who instead of moonshine has taken one too many acid trips.

Into this chaos comes Roky's youngest brother, Sumner. Sumner is a classical musician living in Pittsburg who broken out of the grip of insanity that his family has fallen under. One of the techniques that the filmmakers use to contrast the different lifestyles is to show the order (classical music and a tidy home) in Sumner's life versus the chaos in Roky's. In the end, and with the help of a court order, his therapist, and Roky's move to Pittsburg, Sumner takes charge of Roky in an effort to get him the care that he needs.

The movie is interspersed with footage of Roky from his days with The 13th Floor Elevators, his solo work and his late 70's/early 80's band, the Aliens. Though some of the footage is a bit gnarly, it only serves to give it a sort of mystical, psychedelic feel that is in the spirit of Roky and this documentary. In addition, there are interview clips from former band mates, wives, family members (including a haunting one with Roky's father) and admirers such as Billy Gibbons of ZZ Top, Gibby Haynes of the Butthole Surfers and the legendary Patti Smith.

The only thing I felt was missing was an update of Roky's status. The movie seemed to end with a drop off and left me wondering if Roky was still making progress with his life. Luckily, Sumner Erickson was there to update Roky's status. He stated in the Q & A after the movie that Roky alive and well, and living back in Austin, TX (as is Sumner). Roky is also back to performing in and around Austin, and is contemplating a tour. Most importantly, Roky now lives independently and even drives a car. It would be a nice touch to see this information edited into this film. After the painful first half of this film, it would be a relief for the audience to know that this living legend hasn't fallen into the same traps that have destroyed all too many others from his era.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Wednesday, April 5, 2006

Review: Before the Music Dies

(This is the first in a series of reviews of movies I will be seeing at the Sarasota Film Festival. For more information about the films and the film festival, go to http://www.sarasotafilmfestival.com)

On Monday night of the Sarasota Film Festival I had the opportunity to see a documentary on the state of the music industry today. The director, Andrew Shapner, was in attendance, along with Rock 'n Roll Hall of Famer Jerry Wexler, and a full house of film lovers.

First of all, don't confuse this movie with Rosanna Arquette's 2005 documentary on the music industry, All We Are Saying. In fact, any resemblance between this movie and, is purely coincidental. Arquette, with all of her connections and big name stars doesn't address the current state of music quite like Before the Music Dies.

For Andrew Shapner, this film was a tribute to his late brother who was a musician as well. Despite the fact that Shapner's background was in fashion photography, not film, the final product is disturbing, thought provoking and hopeful. His lack of experience is actually an asset in this film. He took the approach of being a fan, and ended up doing a great deal of leg work. So, instead of talking to only the biggest names, Before the Music Dies gets in the trenches with working class musicians and small label executives. Unlike All We Are Saying, the people who talk about the struggle of being a musician have street credibility to back up their complaints. The big names that do appear (i.e., Eric Clapton, Dave Matthews) are more open to discussing the roots of the problems in the music industry and less interested in partaking in a "whine fest".

This is not to say there isn't any complaining, whether it's Erykah Badu giving out some salty advice to up and comers, Doyle Bramhall II complaining about not getting a break, or Branford Marsalis complaining about his students' attitudes. This movie also avoids sinking into a "whine fest" by ending in an upbeat mode. Most of the people that are interviewed in this portion of the film seem optimistic that technology such as the internet and inexpensive home computer recording studios can level the playing field.

In addition to the musicians, there are plenty of conversations with the record label (small, indie types), technicians, critics, and people in the radio industry. There's even an interview with a hooded, voice distorted subject who gives you the "inside story" on the radio behemoth, Clear Channel.

My favorite two scenes from the film come from the present and the past. In the first, a 17 year-old model who can't carry a tune in a bucket is turned into an MTV pop star with the aid of computer enhanced voice, a flashy video and a catchy song. The second is a conversation with an aging blues man, Hubert Sumlin. He talks of being rich, not in terms of money, but being a millionaire in life experience. Despite all he has lived through and the state of music today, he reflects an optimism that cuts through all of the hype.

In short, I recommend that you not only see this film, but catch a local musician at a club or on a small independent station!while you can! Also, visit the film's web site at http://www.beforethemusicdies.com.

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

New Car!Another Book!and my first big movie role!

So!what's up! Well, lots of good stuff!so read on, McDuff.

First, I broke down (before I broke down!) and bought a new car. Well, it's not a BRAND NEW CAR, but it's new to me. This started during my first trip to Orlando (see the previous blog post). I received sad news from my mechanic that my 1986 Buick Skylark was on the automotive equivalent of life support. It was one of those conversations where it went from bad to worse to "no more, I give up". With a poor prognosis, I decide it was time to bite the bullet and get another car. Not just any car, not just four wheels and an engine. No, this time, it would be personal.

So, after checking with a former co-worker who worked as one of the "girls in the office" at a local car dealership (she gave me the scoop on ALL of the local dealers!some of them a modern day pirates!) I heeded her recommendation on a dealer.

Much to my surprise, the whole affair was not as painful as I thought it would be. I test drove three cars, took my final choice to my mechanic, and closed the deal. The result: a silver, 2001 Dodge Neon with just under 28,000 miles, with A/C, power everything and a four disc CD player. Most of all, this car reeks of reliability and good gas mileage.

The hardest (and goofiest) part is saying goodbye to a car you've driven for a number of years. It may have been falling apart, but it was sort of like saying goodbye to an old friend. It wasn't easy, but the money they gave on the trade made me forget REAL fast!

Yeah, I'm sure I could have gotten a better deal if had driven all over the state of Florida, haggled like I was in a marketplace in Baghdad, read every consumer magazine I could lay my hands on, but!I'm happy, so who cares!

Meanwhile, I'm working on my fourth book, entitled Phase II. This is horrific sci-fi (or scientific horror) novel that pits aliens from another world against the living dead of this world. Ah yes, from my warped mind to your nightstand!

Finally, Vampire Biker Babes, a movie that I will be playing a major role, will start shooting any day. All of the corporate crap is in place, the script is done and pretty much all of the roles are cast. All I need to here is, "lights, camera, action" and I'll be ready to go. I may be a little low-budget horror film, but hey!you gotta start somewhere. Besides, you never know what can happen with a film like this: just think Evil Dead, Blair Witch Project, Little Shop of Horrors, etc. Personally, I'm looking forward to the whole experience and I can't wait to say, "OK, CB! I'm ready for my close-up!"

Friday, March 17, 2006

To Orlando and back

It's been a while since I've been to Orlando (or written here!), so as has been the norm lately, I made two trips to Orlando within a week.

I enjoy Orlando, however getting there from Sarasota is a bit of a white knuckle affair. I-4, the connector between Orlando and the rest of the world is perpetually under construction. Along with that, you have four lanes of traffic being poured into two to three (depending on what stretch you're on) lanes of actual highway. Once you get to Orlando, I generally try to stay at a hotel with some sort of shuttle service to avoid the traffic within Orlando, which is a whole story by itself.

Once there, Orlando is a blast. Between the theme parks and restaurants, my inner child (and outer child as well) can run wild. Much like New York, you spend lots of money, but just like New York, you get so much back.

My first trip this year was to see my nephew Wolf (yep, that's his name!) march with his high school marching band in the Spectra Magic Parade at the Magic Kingdom in Orlando. Due to some prior commitments, I couldn't see him on Saturday, his free day, but I got to see him march in the full parade on Friday night. So, as I so often do, I made weekend out of the trip by going over on Thursday afternoon and leaving Saturday morning.

I got there OK on Thursday and due to my hotel's proximity to Downtown Disney, Thursday night was spent roaming around there. I didn't get to eat at Planet Hollywood or House of Blues; the wait for a table is anywhere from 60-90 minutes. However, I got my tickets for the next trip to Orlando the following Friday for the Sisters of Mercy concert at the House of Blues. BTW, did you know that even if you by your ticket at the House of Blues, you still have to pay a service charge? Ah, the joys of outsourcing!

The next day, I decided to hit the Disney theme parks. I was going to meet Wolf at 5:00 PM at the Magic Kingdom, and since I have thing about that park (too many kids and families); I planned to spend the bulk of the day MGM/Disney. Before I left I got some tragic news from my mechanic: my car was ready for the scrap heap. Not the thing I wanted to hear, but goddammit I was at the HAPPIEST FREAKIN PLACE ON EARTH! I'll deal with it when I get back!

After a fun-filled day at MGM, I headed over to the Magic Kingdom to meet my nephew. The kid met me on time and we spent about an hour visiting. Jeez, he's a senior in high school and all grown up. I was proud of him (just like all of the cousins) and how well he's doing. We socialized and he went on to get ready for the parade.

With some time to kill, I went in search of warmer attire. The last major cold front of the spring was working its way into Orlando and I forgot a perfectly good windbreaker back at my hotel room. I didn't want anything with Mickey, Goofy, Donald or any of the characters. My search was rewarded with a Jack Skellington/Nightmare Before Christmas baseball jersey, which was a little more than I wanted to spend, but it would keep me comfy for the rest of the evening.

Then, I went on to my favorite ride in the park: "It's a Small World"!or as I like describe as Disney's way of saying, "We Gave Up Caring a Long Time Ago". This ride is the Plan 9 from Outer Space of theme park rides: it's so bad (I've seen better rides at a flea market!) it's good. But, as the Brits say, it's a good laugh.

After that ride and some more meandering, I got a front row spot for the Spectra Magic Parade. My nephew's high school did a great job and I think I may have got a picture of two of him (those kids all look the same in those uniforms!). The Spectra Magic Parade has all of the Disney characters covered in lights, and with the park lights shut off makes the thing look pretty cool.

The trip the following weekend with my new car (more on that in another blog) to the same hotel to see The Sisters of Mercy was a bit of a disappointment. The car drove fine, the hotel I stayed at upgraded me to a suite, the House of Blues was awesome (bathroom attendants!nice touch!), but the concert!well, that was a different story. The opening band, The Warlocks, were great. Then came the Sisters. They played an entire show in a fog bank (no lie, you could hardly see the band it was so thick), and the show was lackluster at best. Oh well, better luck next time. I'll be back in Orlando in May!maybe. More about that later, so stay tuned!

To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Thursday, February 16, 2006

Big News for 2006

Well, January is gone and February is half over and I STILL haven't posted my "Plans for 2006". After a wild holiday season that was highlighted by a tooth extraction, a great deal of long overdue periodontal work (more on that in a future post!), and the usual flurry of temporary and part-time "do-fer" gigs, I'm ready to make two big announcement for 2006.

First, I will be appearing in a full-length feature film, Vampire Biker Babes. I will be portraying Deputy Buddy Riggs, a sleazy lawman in an equally sleazy town. But don't worry, 'ol Buddy gets his comeuppance (along with a score of other dirt bags) at the hands of!you guessed it, THE VAMPIRE BIKER BABES! This is a horror film with a touch of Sergio Leone. For more info about this film, go to www.cyberstreme.com .

Second, I will be releasing my fourth book and second novel, Phase II. This book details the battle for the Planet Earth, pitting aliens of an evil empire against!zombies! I will also be hitting the convention circuit again this year as well, so go to www.sevenacide.com or just click on the Writing tab on this site.

In other areas, Retrograde Radio is STILL on the air (for all you who always ask, "Are you still doing THAT radio show?"), and will continue to play the best classic punk, new wave and alternative music from the 70's, 80's and early 90's. To keep up with the latest happenings on the show, go to www.retrograde-radio.com or click on the Radio tab on this site. In the writing area, in addition to Phase II, I'm preparing Sevenacide for a UK release. This means cleaning up the punctuation, spelling and continuity gaps that plagued the first edition. Mucho thanks to Gary Hall, The Taskmaster of Grammar and Writing Style, for his sharp eye and unlimited patience. Also, let us have a moment of silence for Gary's red pen, which perished in the editing process. The UK relaunch (and possible book took of the UK???) is slated for later in 2006.

As far as this blog, I will be using this for general news, rants and other items that don't fit the format of the Sevenacide and Retrograde site. Also note that the Comment section has been taken down due to spammer abuse. To contact me, e-mail me at rshustercommentNOSPAM@comcast.net . Please take out the NOSPAM when entering the e-mail address.

Saturday, February 11, 2006

Happy Birthday to Me!

What a whacked out day! I remember looking forward to birthdays. When I was a kid, it was a little shot of magic that you looked forward to every year. Then came the milestone birthdays: the 16th, the prime of your teen years; the 21st, being fully legal. Suddenly, the whole thing turns into gentle reminder that each birthday is one more closer to the final one.

My day started with my clock radio coming on and the DJ saying that today is the most depressing day of the year. As outrageous as it seems, the logic is sound. By the 24th of January most people have received their credit card bills and are now on the hook for their Christmas (or what other holiday you decided to celebrate -- see last blog post!) spending orgies. People are either locked in a bitter death struggle with their resolutions or are in the dumps because they've blown another year's resolution. The next holiday they can really look forward to is Memorial Day. Then, to top it off, you have the general lack of daylight that gives everybody a dose of the blue boo-hoos.

Even Easter (which in my childhood was sort of a mini-Christmas with beach pails and shovels and Easter eggs) brings only marginal relief. Since the holiday falls on a Sunday, the best most working stiffs can hope for is a half-day off on Good Friday. So, it's a long way until the next 3-day weekend.

I guess that's why my birthday is usually a downer, not that I haven't had some good ones. One of the best ones I ever had was a surprise party thrown by my boy MC Joey P. IT was an Italian feast with a group of my friends who never would have gotten together if it hadn't been for his hard work. With all of the food, fun and friends (the 3 F's -- everybody should have a daily dose!), the highlight of the evening was the trip to a local Irish pub and Joey P's buddy trying to hook me up with our waitress (he was not successful).

Another fun one, a milestone no less, was my 21st. I went out with a bunch of guys from the dorm and tore up Ft. Wayne, IN!late 70's style. The first bar we went to I begged to be carded. I got my first beer on the house, much to the chagrin of the bartender. We ended the evening at a Wet T-shirt Contest at the legendary Cat's Meow. I danced with Ms 2nd place, no less

Probably the most fun, (another milestone) was my 40th. My parents were down from Indiana and for my 40th I went to the dog track with my Dad. Nothing says love between a father and son like a day spent betting on small animals. At least that's what I did, my Dad just sat back, watched and chuckled.

But, most of my birthday celebrations have been closer to the old Mary Tyler Moore show's Mary Richards parties. Winston Churchill died the day of my 7th birthday party. My 30th birthday party went in the toilet because a major snow storm in Washington, DC, where I was living at the time. In fact, the Monday after the abovementioned Italian feast, I got canned from my job. Happy Birthday, and don't let the door hit you in the ass!

There were lots of birthdays in between that for one reason or another were just not memorable. Life is like that; every birthday, holiday, whatever is what it is. You make the most of it and enjoy the fact that you're alive to see another.

As far as this birthday, I celebrated with delightful tooth scaling/scraping procedure at the periodontist in the afternoon. Then, that night, I went to an English pub for a couple of pints. Not exactly tearing up the town, but hey!I'm above ground for another year. Maybe next year!Vegas for the big 5-0!oh no!

Friday, February 3, 2006

End of the Season

Well, it's finally over. Thanksgiving, Winter Solstice, Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanza, Boxing Day, Wrestling Day!oops, how did that get in there! Anyway the whole stretch of partying, fun and good cheer is done for another year. My Christmas tree came down on the 9th and after some procrastination, was stowed away by the 15th. That way I covered my self for Epiphany.

But there was another season that ended: football. Both my home favs the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and my childhood, sentimental team, the Chicago Bears. The Buccaneers were upended by other adopted home team, the Washington Redskins, while my poor little Bears were beaten like wild dogs and kicked to the ditch with the rest of the bums (Note: My apologies to the late Hunter S. Thompson for that last outburst!) by the Carolina Panthers, my old D.C. running buddy MC Joey P's team. Unfortunately, he too will be without team in Super Bowl XL; they were beaten like a gambler two weeks behind on the juice and left for dead (another apology to Hunter!) by the Seahawks.

Oh well, (in a case of sour grapes) who cares anyway. The Super Bowl is generally an over hyped, deadly dull game that is often a blowout and plagued with shameless gaffs and horrendous miscues. Then there's the half time show.

Ah yes, the half time show. Until Janet Jackson show us her nipple jewelry, the half-time show was an opportunity to leave a dull Super Bowl party, go out for fresh supplies, simply turn the abomination off and go to bed. The bloated, over-the-top insanity that is the Super Bowl Halftime Show is so long that some players have had time to heal broken bones. This year, it looks promising. The Rolling Stones are the musical guest, and who knows what may happen.

Of course, there are always the commercials. Advertisers actually work hard on these 30 and 60 second snippets. After all they're competing with bathroom and snack breaks. This year may be no exception.

But for me, the season is over, my favorites are dead until August, left at the NFL alter with my beloved University of St. Francis Cougars; bridesmaids for another year. Who do I like in the Super Bowl!a cold beer, a brat with mustard and nachos with lots of chili and cheese!

Monday, January 9, 2006

Return to New York!Again!

On the morning of December 6th, I began my third trip to New York in less than nine months. It doesn't sound like much, but I had never been to New York (other than two short rugby excursions and an international layover at JFK) before. But, sometimes fate can throw a curveball.

When I mean I left in the morning, I mean early morning; as in 3:15 in the morning. My flight left out of Tampa at 6:15 AM, so I had to make all the additional allowances. Though traffic wasn't a problem, the steady rain was. But I got there in plenty of time.

The flight on Jet Blue was interesting. As a special perk (along with their low prices) is in-flight television. Nothing major; just a good selection of basic cable staples. But, I couldn't get much out of it this leg. I slept most of the way into JFK.

The flight was uneventful and I made my connection to my ground transport and was on my way to the city. It was weird seeing snow on the ground and feeling the breath of "The Hawk" for the first time in a while. I reached my hotel and after getting my bearings I went out for some New York City food. After nearly freezing to death (I've been living in Florida for the last 14 years, dammit! I'm not used to this!), I quickly settled on the Ellen's Stardust Diner for a late breakfast.

Ellen's Stardust Diner is a fascinating place. The inside is decorated like a fifty's/early sixties place; just think of a scaled-down version of Jack Rabbit Slim's in Pulp Fiction with a bunch of musical theater hopefuls working there and you'll get the picture. The staff even does Broadway/show tune/pop standard karaoke while you eat.

One of the waitresses, Vanessa (also a Broadway hopeful) mentioned that one of the waiters had just gotten a role in the chorus of Lion King. That was the kind of place it was: dreams mixed with good coffee and delicious food. With that, I went back to my hotel room to rest up for the evening's festivities. Besides, it was too cold to do any real site seeing.

One thing that I found interesting that my hotel on their stationary includes "Hell's Kitchen" as part of their address. I thought to myself about how this hotel must have changed. The room I was staying probably was once one of those rundown flats like you see in the Dead End Kid movies, or in some film noir from the 30's and 40's. Now I'm sleeping there with a down comforter, toasty hot water and cable TV. Times!they've been a changing.

Then, I began to suffer the malady of modern civilization: the cell phone. While hanging around my room, I negotiated a new temp assignment with my agency in Florida and fielded a request from a radio station in Phoenix about my radio show. The temp assignment starts the day I get back and the radio station deal was a straight out bust. What did they think when they looked at the Retrograde web page!.it's a music show Einstein!

That evening I got dressed and went out with my long black leather coat. It rarely gets worn in Florida, but in New York it was perfect. Now that I was properly dressed, I decided to go see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center.

It was a short walk from my hotel, but I still had to rather sheepishly ask a security guard near Rockefeller Center, "Where's the Christmas tree?" He was very nice and said, "Turn right at the next block and it's up the street on the right".

I wasn't disappointed; it was just like TV and the movies. The tree was quite a sight to behold and the skaters frolicking around the rink was delightful. I took a deep breath, drew in the entire atmosphere and headed to the Max's 40th party.

It wasn't as wild as I thought it would be, but it was great time. Besides, everybody there had truly been there and done that. It wasn't night to prove anything, and everyone was relaxed.

I enjoyed talking to all of the people who used to hang out there, as well as the arts and entertainment people who where there to be a part of it all. I got a little scared with the auction, since some of the stuff was a little out of my league. But I liked the fact they had the whole thing in a former recording studio (it's now a guitar showroom). There were guitars everywhere and I resisted the urge to play air guitar with these beauties. I remembered the old saying, "Pretty to look at/pretty to hold/But if you break it/Consider it sold".

But, all in all, it was a New York party night. I got my picture taken with a beautiful young model by an attractive woman who was photographer with the Times. There were videos, DJ's and a couple of bands that were too cool to be believed. I went home early (by New York standards), but tomorrow was a travel day.

I got up early and squeezed in a hectic breakfast at Lindy's; I even had a slice of cheesecake at 10:00 AM. What the hell, I was on vacation! I made all my connections and arrived back in Tampa less than 48 hours after I left. I even drove home in the same steady rain I drove up in the day before. I arrived home, went to bed and woke up the next morning wondering!was it all a dream?

Thursday, December 1, 2005

Third Time is a Charm

A while back, I finished my blog entry on my trip to New York back in August with, "New York twice in one year, I'd never believed it. And!I LUV NEW YORK! How bout Rockefeller Center for the lighting of the Christmas tree!" Only a few hours after that post, I received an e-mail invitation to the 40th Anniversary of the opening of the legendary Max's Kansas City in New York on December 6th. For more info on Max's go to www.maxskansascity.com , and for info about the charity side, go to www.maxskansascity.org . I may have missed the lighting of the Christmas tree in Rockefeller Center, but I may get to see it after all, because I'm going back to New York City for the THIRD time this year!

For those of you that believe in serendipity, coincidence, signs from above, or whatever; make your own judgment. As far as I'm concerned, I'm going with the flow. Manhattan has got a grip on me like cheap heroin in the veins of a teenager (not that I would know!). The city has a sort of magic about itself that is like no other place on Earth. Far from a place to be feared, it has become its own subcontinent to be explored and if possible, tamed.

It's weird for someone who grew up among cows and cornfields to have this kind of fascination with New York. But, I not only have this fascination with New York, I've had it about all cities. The ultimate passion, though, is with the big ones. I've been to New York a lot in 2005, and I have visited Chicago, Montreal, and Rio de Janeiro, among others. I've lived in Washington, DC. I now have a hunger to see some of the other great cities of the world; Rome, London, Paris, Berlin!Los Angeles, Los Vegas!Hey, it worked before!maybe it'll work again.

More updates when I get back from New York!

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Another Trip Down Memory Lane

This has been the year for reunions and anniversaries. My parents had their 60th wedding anniversary, I had my 30th high school reunion and I was reunited with my college soccer team for their induction into my college's sports hall of fame. So, it would only be fitting that my former rugby club in Washington, D.C., the Washington Irish Rugby Club, would be holding a celebration in honor of the 25th year of existence.

I arrived on Thursday, October 6, in the afternoon. The weather quickly deteriorated and the skies opened up to buckets of rain. I hoped that this wouldn't be the story for the whole weekend.

Later in the afternoon, I went into the city to meet up with a friend of mine. We met up and went into our old stomping grounds; the area in Washington, D.C. known as Midtown. Back in the 80's, Midtown was the place to be. Georgetown had the reputation and Dupont Circle was hipper, but Midtown was where it all went down. That's where the nicest offices to work in and best bars to hang out in where located.

After a little walking around, we decided to go into an old favorite, a place called The Mad Hatter. The place had a crowd, but it wasn't what you would consider crowded. We grabbed a table, ordered up a couple of Bud longnecks and started to catch up on old times.

Then an amazing thing happened: nothing. The crowd that was there never got any bigger, no DJ came in and sat up, nothing. Just a lot of young office/intern types chattering around and bar flies glued to the state of the art TV's (since I don't have the technology, I don't know the difference between plasma, HDTV, etc.) watching a Thursday night college football game. After a while, we moved on in hope of some excitement.
We went on to the Sign of the Whale, another 80's night spot. Playboy magazine even listed it as a spot to hook up; but that was twenty-some years ago. It was also a pooped out version of it's former self. My friend and I both agreed that the party went somewhere else and nobody told us where. After a quick night cap, we called it a night and I went back to my hotel room. Maybe tomorrow night would be better.

Friday during the day turned out to be a washout; literally. I ventured out to get a mouth guard for Sunday's match and I nearly drowned. I got back to the hotel, changed out of my wet clothes and wet to the Afghan buffet across the street for lunch. Yeah, an Afghan buffet!only in Washington, D.C.

That night I met up with some of my former mates at Fado's, an Irish pub located in Chinatown (once again!only in Washington, D.C.). I took the subway and when I emerged, it was like a scene out of Blade Runner. The whole area was a combination of Starbucks, Fuddruckers and a hodge-podge of Oriental shops, all against the backdrop of a steady downpour. The only thing missing was the Vangelis music score and hover cars.
Once inside, I was overwhelmed by the people there. It's amazing how once you get over the shifts in hair and weight; you basically pick up where you left off. Beers where drunk, food consumed, lies embellished, and for just a moment, we where all young and stupid again.

Along with the changes in my teammates, the changes in the city were becoming more evident. The MCI Center, home of the Washington Capitals hockey team and Wizards basketball team, had changed the Eastern Downtown/Chinatown area of Washington, D.C. from a seedy, somewhat dangerous to a sterile, faux funky neighborhood. The 9:30 Club that was once at 930 F Street, NW now V Street and something. Chinatown looks too tourist friendly for its own good. After all of this, I needed a closer look. Rain, or no rain, I was going for a walkabout in the city.
Saturday was less rainy than the previous days, so I ventured out. I went to the old places where I used to live. I happy to report that they're all there and in good shape, however the neighborhoods are somewhat unrecognizable. More built up, more expensive, and surrounded by a force field that screamed, "Look, but don't touch".

I had a beer at the Childe Harrold, the meeting place for Deep Throat, Bruce Springsteen's early D.C. shows (they used to have live music, but not since the early 80's), and a watering hole for John Riggins and some assorted Washington Redskins back in the day. I almost thought for a moment one of them might walk around the corner.

By the end of the day, the rain had returned. So I made a beeline to the Metro and went back to the hotel. Another night and another social affair with the Washington Irish, this time at another old watering hole, My Brother's Place. Things were supposed to begin at 8:00 PM, and by 8:30 there were only a handful of people there. Then, like a leprechaun's magic spell, the place was packed to the rafters at 9:00. Again, there was much beer drunk, lies told and jokes swapped.
The next day was the big Alumni match; the Old Boys against the Older Boys. I suited up for a run and got a chance to play wing forward; a rugby position that requires speed and stamina. I had neither. After the twenty minute period expired, I made my way to the sideline to be a spectator for the rest of the day. I was uninjured, but spent.

Later that evening, after cleaning up and changing into a suit, it was off to the Ft. Myers Officer's Club for the banquet. I cabbed over to the base and was greeted at the gate by some very friendly, but heavily armed guards (after all, this is a military installation!). However, once I got past this, I was soon inside historic Patton Hall for the evening's festivities.

The guests included the New Zealand Ambassador and his wife, and a former teammate who's the number two man at the Treasury Department, along with all of the other assorted ex and current ruggers of the Washington Irish. After an open bar, appetizers and a sumptuous dinner, then came the speeches.

Nobody can talk more smack than rugby players; it doesn't matter if they're cover in mud in torn uniforms or slicked up and wearing formal wear. There were funny speeches; serious speeches, a tear jerker, and one were I was the butt of the joke. But it was all in the spirit of camaraderie and friendship.

Afterwards, the attendees adjourned to an Irish pub in Arlington, VA, Irelands Four Courts, which was not far from my hotel and from the banquet. There, we put the finishing touches on the weekend, sang one more chorus of "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling", and bid each other adieu.
The next morning I bid adieu to Washington, DC again. The city had changed quite a bit since the last time I was there. It wasn't my town anymore. But, the people I who were there during my visit had changed only slightly in appearance. There were still my "Band of Brothers". That made the trip back worth it.

Monday, October 24, 2005

This Ain't No Disco - Part IV

(Part four of a four part series)

Sunday Night/Monday Morning/Afternoon, August 28-29, 2005

It was my last night in New York and I wanted to make it a good one. I woke up rested and ready to go. I went back to CBGB in hope of having a better night then one before. I was not disappointed.

First of all, I came to the conclusion that New York is as friendly a town that I've ever been in. As I came into CBGB, I saw a guy (also named, Robert) with a Pork Dukes T-shirt. The Pork Dukes, by the way, are a punk band from the 70's who still tour from time to time in the States and are notorious for their t-shirts with pigs doing naughty things to bouncy bottomed women. I complimented him on his T-shirt and for the rest of the evening I had friends with him, his wife (Regina) and his wife's brother (Doug). We proceeded to buy each other rounds and trade concert war stories.

Then, the music for the evening started. I got my biggest surprise of the evening with ex-Heartbreaker (of "Johnny Thunders and", not "Tom Petty and"!) Walter Lure. The guy played all of the hits ("Born to Lose", "Take a Chance") as well stuff like a Ray Charles cover. Best of all, no Mr. Crabbypants attitude.

Cheetah Chrome (from last night and the Dead Boys) played the next set and quickly showed that the previous night's show with the Dead Boys wasn't the real Cheetah. This set was fun to watch and it was obvious that he had with good band behind him. I quickly felt the vibe from last night dissipate.

In between sets, I ran into Brian and Danielle, the couple I met at Manitoba's earlier that day. They were excited to see their local heroes and they even seemed to enjoy the thrill of being in New York at CBGB to do it. Sort of like going cross-country to cheer on your home team in another stadium.

Flipper didn't disappoint, though they were a little rusty. But, these were a bunch of guys that hadn't played together in a while. A couple minutes into the set, they settled down and had fun with it all. When I asked one of the members of Flipper after the show where they've been, he replied with smile, "Hibernating." Oh well, so much for some earth shattering statement.

The highlight of the night, and for that matter the weekend, was Sham 69. Robert and Doug decided to go up front and be part of the pit, while decided to lay back. At my age, you have to think twice before you go up front, especially with Sham 69.

Jimmy Pursey of Sham 69 came out in an unbuttoned straight jacket and that set the stage for a show loaded with gleeful insanity. Pardon the pun, but it was just what the doctor ordered. Doug and Robert would occasionally surface from the pit only to get sucked back into the vortex. Regina could only shake her head and hope that the guys didn't get hurt.

After the show was over, Robert, Regina and Doug invited me to go with them to Manitoba's for a nightcap. They had to kill some time before taking the Amtrak back to Philly and after that night's shows, it felt like the thing to do. On the way there, Regina put some anti-biotic ointment on a cut Robert's leg (much to his dismay -- he wanted souvenir scar) and we stopped at an all-night deli to rehydrate Doug. We made it to Manitoba's and finished off the night's festivities with several rounds of adult beverages. I made my way back to hotel room sometime in the wee hours of the morning.

The next day started smoothly. Even with a hangover, I got up in plenty of time and because of my previous evenings packing, it didn't take me long to gather my things for check out. The shuttle to take me to the airport arrived on the dot and the trip there took only about twenty minutes.

I was setting in on the airport restaurants chowing out, when a ticket agent from Delta found me. She said that they were putting me on flight an hour earlier to Atlanta due to Hurricane Katrina. I wolfed down my food, chugged my beer and hotfooted it to the boarding area.

Atlanta was on the outer fringe of Katrina, but the wind and rain were still fear inspiring. The flight out was slightly delayed and the ride was bumpy, but I got home. I watched with awe and horror later that night the devastation that Katrina brought and breathed a sigh of relief that I didn't get caught in the hurricane. I also said a prayer for the Gulf Coast who would get the brunt of the storm.

The trip is over and now, I'm just waiting for the pictures. New York twice in one year, I'd never believed it. And!I LUV NEW YORK! How 'bout Rockefeller Center for the lighting of the Christmas tree!

Sunday, September 25, 2005

This Ain't No Disco - Part III

(Part three of a four part series)

Sunday Late Morning/Afternoon, August 28, 2005

I woke up with a mild hangover and slightly deaf. The last time this happened was after I saw Queen in 1976. I was on the floor of the Ft. Wayne Memorial Coliseum and right in front of one of those giant Spinal Tap-ish speakers. I had trouble hearing for three days after. Hopefully, this would last as long.

Today was my day play tourist. I pulled myself together and prepared to go out into New York. While I was having a cup of coffee in the lobby, I met a very friendly English woman who was over visiting friends in New York. She had done work in the promotional end of the music industry and we had a nice chat about music and such. Just one of those chance meetings that can make an ordinary day a little more pleasant.

I went next door to Yonah Shimmel's for a knish and a little more coffee. It was one of those little hole-in-the-wall places that reeks of forgotten history. It reminded of Daryl's Pastry Shop in Rensselaer, IN where I grew up. I was a long way from home, yet at the same time I felt at home. Late nights and hangovers do this to me everytime.

After my quick nosh, I journeyed out into New York, or more specifically, Alphabet City, an area so named because of the avenues that are named, "A", "B", and so on. In this part of New York, next door to the East Village, is the last stand of real New York. Nothing fancy or phony; just people doing their thing and trying to get by. In the back of my mind was finding Manitoba's, a bar run by the lead singer of the Dictators. Yeah, it's a punk rock thing, you may not understand!

My wanderings took me to Tompkins Square Park. There, I found the place in the middle of the Howl Festival. The festival honors the memory of one of my favorite poets, Alan Ginzberg. I decided to take a short detour and soak up the culture.

The first person I ran into as I walked through the street artists and into the park itself was Yvonne Sewall-Ruskin. She is the widow of the late owner of Max's Kansas City; Mickey Ruskin and she had a table there for the Max's Kansas City Project. The organization raises money to help support creative artists with housing, medical and legal aid (for more info go to www.maxskansascity.org). She was very nice and we had a pleasant chat. My only regret was that I couldn't get a T-shirt big enough for my bulky frame.

After picking up a refreshing Fizzy Lizzy soda, I continued through the park soaking up the street culture. I felt comfortable, happy and alive. I wanted to stay there all day, but there was more exploring to do. So, I pressed on.

A block or two after I left the park, I found Manitoba's. It's a place that's New York to the bone. The bartender, Kevin, had the Yankee game on and everywhere there was New York rock and roll memorabilia: pictures of Debbie Harry, Iggy Pop, The Ramones and all of the other people that made the city rock in the late 70's and keep it rocking. Kevin was also a great source of what was going on and a good bartender.

While I was downing a cold brew, a couple from San Francisco, Brian and Danielle came in. There were in town to see Flipper, a San Francisco punk band of the early 80's, play at CBGB that night. Again, another chance meeting with like minded people who on the same page. I love this town!

I finished my beer, got a quick slice from a pizza place in the neighborhood and wandered on. I was walking by Tompkins Park again, and I saw a woman dressed in a purplish prom-type gown. On her head was a tiara and she had a necklace that read "Babs". I wasn't sure what to make of it, so I just asked. The photographer that was with her pointed to a big yellow arrow that was by a small restaurant and he told me to go and call the number that was written on it and follow the instructions over the phone.

The whole thing reeked of a scam, but something told me to go ahead and do it anyway. Having my cell phone with me, I called and I got a pleasant surprise. After following the instructions, I got a prerecorded story about the woman who frequented the restaurant. She dressed much the same way the woman who was in front of me did. It was a cute, sweet story about a character in a big city that sometimes gets lost in the shuffle. I found out that these yellow arrows are over the city, each with a story to tell. For more information on this project, go to www.yellowarrow.net/secretny and go to "Miss Connecticut 1945".

My day was finished off with a trip New York City rugby establishment, the Croxley Ale House and Beer Garden. This was great stop for an old rugger like myself. I loaded up on 20-cent wings, fries and of course, beer. With my brain and belly stuffed, I made my way back to the hotel for a late afternoon nap and the second show a CBGB's. Maybe the good vibes I picked up today would flow into tonight.

Saturday, September 17, 2005

This Ain't No Disco - Part II

(Part two of a four part series)

Saturday Evening, August 27, 2005

After a quick nap and a cleanup, I headed down to CBGB for my first night of punk rock merriment. I had received a call from Chris, a guy who I met during the recent GBH (for the uninitiated, a fantastic punk band out of Birmingham, England) tour of the U.S. He had helped me get an interview with the band for my radio show and he was also going to be the show that night as well. In true 21st Century style, we made are connection via cell phones and agreed to meet at the bar (one of my favorite places to meet people!) once I got inside.

The line at CBGB was long, but moved quickly. I had purchased tickets for both nights online and whole process was painless. The security there kept the cattle drive moving with a constant barrage of "have your ID and credit card ready" for all of Will Call people. They also reminded everyone that there was no re-admittance once you went inside, so all of the smokers were taking their final drags before they went inside.

I met up with Chris as I had planned and we traded beers and music stories for quite a while. He remarked how if he had parked near the club, like he had tonight, that his car would completely stripped by the time he came back after the show. Times, they are a changin!

I arrived inside around 7:30 PM, but by 9:00 we both were wondering when a band would start playing. Not that CBGB would start a show on time, but inquiring minds were curious.

Finally, around 9:30, the first band kicked in. The desperation, frustration and alienation felt by many of the attendees could be summed up by the lead singer's statement of "F--- the Homeless". Strong language, but a sentiment of a number of people in attendance. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the vibe for the evening.

After this band, then another finished; the Anti-Nowhere League took the stage. Again, for the uninitiated, the Anti-Nowhere League are another punk band that I really like. They started out as the English equivalent of a group of bikers who got tired of sitting around the pub and, to paraphrase Eric Cartman on South Park, said, "Screw you hippie, were gonna start our own band." Over the past 25 years or so, they have had ups and downs, but some how have hung in there. The lead singer, Animal, was asked a number years ago to join Metallica onstage to sing one of their songs, "So What" (BTW -- This song got them in a LOT of trouble. For the lyrics and more info, go to the Retrograde web page and follow their link!). Animal's reply was who's Metallica and I have to fix my car.

They hit the stage without warning, as if they appeared out of thin air. The crowd didn't realize what hit them until the song, "I Hate People". I began to get that feeling with people bumping into me on their way to and from the mosh pit. Either get in or out, that's my motto. But, I guess you had to have been there!

Chris and I were having a good evening, but we got separated for the final band, a reunion of the Dead Boys. Having missed the Dead Boys back in the late 70's, I had managed to get up close, or at least as close as I felt comfortable. Legendary rock 'n roll writer Legs McNeil even gave them a send off, with a life-size picture of the late Stiv Bator (the band's lead singer) and a leather jacket on a mike stand for symbolism.

Have you ever gotten excited to see something, then once it happened you ask yourself, "Is that all?" That was my impression of the Dead Boys show. On stage there was just a lot of crabbiness and animosity. I guess I would feel the same way playing the second night in a row to club that is on legal life support, with a guy who gave his life (all intents and purposes) for rock and roll hanging (literally) over your head like some sort of Sword of Damocles, and a crowd of people who will go home afterwards to their world leaving you with the rock 'n roll reality: this is a job and tomorrow I've got bills to pay.

After an almost encore (Cheetah Chrome came out and chatted a bit with the crowd, but soon left when he was the only one out there), I met up with Chris. We said our good-byes and went our separate ways.

When I think about that show, I'm reminded of the scene in the movie, The Great Rock 'n Roll Swindle. The Sex Pistols are playing their last show at the Winterland in San Francisco. With The Sex Pistols playing the song, "No Fun", Malcolm McLaren in the voice over says,

"It wasn't a rock and roll party. It was more like a dying horse that needed putting out of its misery. We raised that horse's head and choked the living daylights out of it."

Yeah!ain't it fun!

Thursday, September 8, 2005

This Ain't No Disco - Part I

(Part one of a four part series)

Saturday Morning/Afternoon, August 27, 2005

With Hurricane Katrina gaining steam in the Gulf of Mexico, I headed for Sarasota-Bradenton International Airport with punk rock dreams dancing in my head. I was going to catch a 6:30 AM flight to New York City for two shows in two nights at the infamous CBGB. And, by God, it was going to take more than a Category 5 hurricane to stop me.

After a mad scramble for a cab in Sarasota at 4:30 in the morning, I made it to the airport in plenty of time. Plenty of time to make it through the gauntlet of security, and plenty of time for a couple of cold beers before my flight. What the hell, I earned it! Besides, it's five o'clock somewhere, maybe in Thailand.

I caught up on my sleep in flight. One thing about a couple of airport beers, they work like Valiums. I dozed on the first leg to Atlanta, staying awake for some juice ($5.00 for a beer, I don't think so!) and a nosh, then a plane change and the final leg to New York.

On this leg there was a group of middle aged women on their way to New York. One of them talked the entire way without a break. I didn't care; the constant yammering about where to shop and what time was brunch droned me into an another early morning nap. After waking up for juice and cookies, I arrived at LaGuardia Airport in New York.

LaGuardia is the stepchild of JFK; it's a bit dowdy and somewhat difficult to get to. Transportation options are slim, especially since there is no direct subway to New York. After a quick assessment of the situation, I made a beeline to the Information/Transportation desk and ordered up a shared van into the city. The cost to my hotel would be $15 plus tip. The women who made the reservation said that I would be boarding in about "twenty minutes"

Well, there are "New York Minutes" and then there are "New York Twenty Minutes". My wait for a van to take me into the city was well over an hour. For what it was worth, there were two factors working against me. First, I hadn't made a prior reservation (I could have even done it online!), which I found out later would have helped. Second, because it's a shared van, there was no way that this sucker was going to Manhattan with anything less than a full load.

The trip through the city was slow, but the van driver handled it like a cabbie. He zoomed in and out traffic with the precision of a guided missile. I arrived at my hotel tired, hungry, but in one piece.

After checking, I decided to get some food and my bearings. I walked south on Bowery Avenue hoping to find a cheap "East Village" style dive to eat. I couldn't find a restaurant, but if I wanted to open one, there were plenty of restaurant supply houses along the way. I did an about face and headed north.

Just when all hoped had faded, I stumbled onto Café Colonial, a Brazilian place that my friends Michelle and Ethan tried to take me to when I was New York in April. We went there on a Saturday night and there was a line around the block. However, in late afternoon, I had no problem getting a seat.

Afterwards I went up the street and located CBGB, the Holy Grail of this trip. The neighborhood was seedy, run down but changing. Around the corner from the club was a construction site and across the street was a frou-frou/chez restaurant. But there it was, that famous awning proclaiming to the world: CBGB & OMFUG.

In front of the club there were a number of young punks waiting for tickets for the show to go on sale. I went into the Gallery next door and got my obligatory souvenir tee shirt. Then, it was back to my room for a quick nap. Tonight would be my first show and I didn't want to miss a thing.

Sunday, August 28, 2005

Well, here I am in NYC, at coffee shop in the Village. Life is good. More in this blog later!

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

On the road again

I don't know why, but this year has been one of travel, travel, travel. Since April 1 I have been to (in order)

New York City
Ft. Wayne, IN
Mobile, AL
Orlando, FL
Rensselaer,IN
Chicago

And, on Saturday...I leave for my 2ND TRIP TO NEW YORK!!! This is from a guy who had only been to New York two other times in his life, both to play rugby and go home the same day! I have flown, taken Amtrack (twice!!!), and driven. All of this in the span of less than 120 days.

But more about the trip to New York. The first one was to go to the World Horror Convention and this trip is to make a pilgrimage to CBGB for two shows this weekend. I wanted to go before it, like so much of this country, becomes another memory. Check out www.savecbgb.org; the whole thing sucks. But, as the Ramones said, "I believe in miracles..."

Among the acts that will be there are a couple of bands that I never thought I would ever get the chance to see: The Anti-Nowhere League and Sham 69. Along with that, I'll be seeing (according to the bill - see www.cbgb.com for details)some other punk legends: Walter Lure (Johnny Thunders & The Hearbreakers),Jean Beauvoir (The Plasmatics) and Cheatah Chrome. On top of all that, when I'm not hanging at CBGB, I'll be staying in the Village. All the while I'll be partying like it was 1977. Ah, the adventure continues...

Tuesday, August 9, 2005

Fix/Repair/Toss

I don't know if it's just a lunar phase, a conspiracy or what, but lately all I've been doing is fixing things. Household stuff, automotive, you name it: I've have had stuff go on the blink.

I am NOT a do it yourselfer by nature. I might be a self published author and have a DIY radio show, but when it comes to mechanical things, forget it! I have no problems taking my car to a mechanic or calling a plumber. People are always telling me, "Oh, that's easy...you can do it yourself!"

First of all, I have neither the knowledge nor the mind set for mechanical things. My brain just doesn't work that way. I've learned to live with it and the rest of the world should do likewise. There's nothing I hate more than trying to fix something that I'm unsure about. The whole project ends up with me throwing a temper tantrum resembling one of those kids from Nanny 911.

Then, there is the lack of proper tools. If I was at my parents' house in Indiana, I could go out to the garage to my father's tool chest and get whatever I need. Instead, here in Florida, I'm stuck with a screwdriver set and an odd ball selection of wrenches, low level power tools and assorted gadgets that make all but the most simple repair job a nightmare. Since I have neither the desire nor the aptitude to be a Tim Allen/Home Improvement sort of guy, there's no need for me to buy or ask for as a gift any big time tools.

For car repairs, I lack a place to work on them. I live in a condo with an uncovered parking lot. I would rather have my mechanic change the oil in my car than spend a Saturday doing it myself in the Florida heat with my neighbors either complain about me bringing down the property values or asking me if I'll do their car next.

Big ticket items at least are usually fixable. My problem is with the smaller items. For example, my computer printer (an old baby Canon ink-jet)finally bit the dust after three years of service. Since getting a printer fixed would cost more than a new one, it was off to the computer/electronic stores in search of a new one.

After a great dealer teeth gnashing and thinking, I ended up with a printer/scanner/copier for only a few bucks more than what I paid for my old one. But now the big question: what to do with the old one? Of course, throw it away! In fact, a friend of mine throws away his printers instead of buying ink cartridges...believe or not it's almost the same amount of money! But, being the Old School kind of guy I am, I'm reluctant to do so. So, it's sitting around my spare bedroom/work area, now just a glorified paper weight.

I'm thinking about buying a new computer in the next few months. Maybe I can get a museum to take it. If I don't have the heart to through out a printer...

Wednesday, July 20, 2005

This is old news, but WTF...I haven't been on this thing in a while. My excuse: the same as it is every night Pinky - I'm too busy!!!

I went and saw The Fixx almost two weeks ago here in Sarasota at a local nightclub called Chrome. Between the local noise ordinances and lack of proper venues, Sarasota rarely has anything of this magnitude. So, when the opportunity comes to see a show like this, I like to take advantage of it. When I was going to college in Ft. Wayne, IN, I would do the same thing, which meant seeing bands I had no desire to see. It was just something to do.

Anyway, I got to the club WAAAAY too early. The doors opened at 6 PM, but I quickly realized that it would be a bit of a wait. Fortunately, I found a comfy sofa (one of those type places -- a night club that tries to create the ambiance of a college kid's living room) to sprawl out on. I carefully nursed my beers ($4 + tip a bottle) and waited for the show.
During this time I had also endure Classic Rock over the club's music system. Nothing against the Classic Rock genre. Just that I came to see The Fixx, who is more of a 1980's new wave/synth type group. That didn't seem to mesh too well with ZZ Top and Journey. The kicker was that it was satellite radio station. I find it hard to believe that they couldn't find a station that would play music that would go along with what the evenings feature artist.

Then came the opening act. This was a delightful country rock cover band that would have been at home in some red neck roadhouse with $2 longnecks and two for one pitchers. Granted there have been some mistakes with opening acts in the past (i.e., Jimi Hendrix opening for The Monkees) but this one took the prize. Once again, an act that would have complemented The Fixx would have been nice.

Finally, the moment arrived and the main event began. I was jockeying for position as near as I could get to the stage as the show got started. The people next to me were fun and cool, but it was still Sardine City; Population: Squish. Oh well, it's a concert, I thought.

Then came a moment that happens all to infrequently, but when it does it fosters my belief that there is a God. I looked up into the Balcony/VIP section and whom do I see, but my movie making buddy Walt. He gave me a wave and then, like a pit trader at the Chicago Board of Trade, I motioned that I wanted to join him. He gestured me to come around to the entrance.
Once there, I was greeted by the club security that politely informed me I needed a VIP badge. So, after a short wait, Walt came down the stairs with proper ID for me and I was in. The rest of the night I took great pride in showing the bouncers my VIP badge. There was no champagne in the VIP area, but there was some pizza. There was also a better view and our own bar with two beautiful blonde female bartenders.

The Fixx were great. They mixed a set of newer material with their greatest hits, avoiding both a trip down memory lane and evening of being force fed crap music just to get to the hits. I took great pleasure singing along with "Red Skies at Night" much to the annoyance of some of the hanger ons. Screw'em -- my concert, my fun.

The greatest spectacle however was on the floor where I left. It seems like there was an overabundance of forty-something Desperate Housewives. A number of them were in the girls gone wild, though they were a bit young to be doing what they were doing. Ah, to be wealthy and carefree in Sarasota!

I even got to shake hands with The Fixx after the show. They did a meet and greet, which included a chest signing (I thought only Motley Crue did that kind of thing!)of well endowed women. All in all, it was a fun evening. It's nice to know that the Concert Goddess smiled down on me and got me the best seat in the house after all.

Wednesday, July 6, 2005

The Summer of Crap

As of July 5th, Hollywood marked its 19th consecutive weekend of the current record-breaking slump. The reasons that Hollywood gives for this slump range from DVD's to the effects of global warming. However, the reason the Hollywood won't fess up to is most obvious one: the movies of this summer suck!
This summer we have been treated to remakes (The Longest Yard, War of the Worlds), movies based on TV shows (Bewitched, The Honeymooners), sequels (Herbie: Fully Loaded, Land of the Dead), franchises (Batman Begins, Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith).
The sad part of all of this is that even when Hollywood gets it right, they still find ways to screw things up. I went with a friend to see Batman Begins. For the most part, the movie was fine. However, my biggest problem was the length. The movie was a two and a half-hour blabathon that watered down the plot.
Here are some ideas for Hollywood. First, instead of having all of these screenwriters working as waiters and parking lot valets, how about giving them jobs to write some ORIGINAL scripts. Hell, they can't do any worse than the people already doing it. Then, instead of hiring the same old sleepwalkers, try getting some hungry actors who aren't worried about the size of their set trailer and the quantity of Mike and Ikes in their dressing room. Finally, if you can't tell your story in less than two hours!edit! Some of the greatest films of all time did so, and so can you!
If Hollywood keeps going down its current path, we could be looking at a remake of Plan 9 From Outer Space, or maybe movie version of My Mother the Car, or a sequel to Gigli, or maybe Rocky VI!oops, I probably should keep my mouth shut. I might be giving someone in Hollywood ideas!

Tuesday, June 28, 2005

My Manifesto

Since this is my first blog, I figure I should let people know what I intend to put up here.

First of all, I want this to be interesting. As much as I would like to tell you all of the gory details of my life. I doubt if anyone gives a rat's crap what I had for breakfast, how cute my cats are (oops!! I don't have any!!), how beautiful the sunset was yesterday, and other yadda yaddaesque ramblings.

Secondly, I'll do this when I damn well feel like it. If I don't post for a while, bear with me. I have a life other than the Internet. If you don't believe me, you haven't been looking at the site.

Finally, the rants that I will post are MY OPINION! It's not the gospel truth, though it probably should be. When I post stuff about upcoming events, they will be as accurate as I know at the time. Any omissions and/or errors are simply that.

One last note: every effort will be made to make sure that this blog is written with correct punctuation. However, this vehicle lends itself to informality, so I will take liberties at my discretion. Since this is my blog, I reserve the right to change any and all rules whenever I bloody well please!so there!

The bottom line to this whole exercise is to give the world a look inside me and to be entertaining. I look forward to doing both!