‘The repose of sleep refreshes only the body. It rarely sets the soul at rest. The repose of the night does not belong to us. It is not the possession of our being. Sleep opens within us an inn for phantoms. In the morning we must sweep out the shadows. '~Gaston Bachelard.

I woke up last night at 2:20 and started thinking about stuff. Waking up in the middle of the night and fixating on one thing is bad, but thinking about stuff is much, much worse. In the case of last night, all the stuff revolved around religion and politics – two subjects that I usually avoid. Apparently, as the quote above suggests, I needed to ‘sweep out the shadows.’

I know from experience that if I want to suppress the brain chatter and get back to sleep I have two choices; and both are equally effective: I can try to employ an Asian meditation technique I learned which involves imagining warm liquid gelatin being pumped into my head and oozing in, filling all the gaps between my skull and my brain, then slowly setting as my mind loses all connection to the outside world and my consciousness fades to black; or I can pop in any DVD starring Steve Guttenberg. Last night, however, I decided to strap myself in, and run with the chatter. Here’s some of last night’s stuff:

- I’ve been a-political all my life, but have recently really gotten into the John Edward’s campaign. I wonder if I should volunteer my services as a writer to him. I mean, he’s one of my Twitter friends, that makes us almost like real buddies – right?

- Dude – Where’s My God? Where did this thought come from?!? Is it really as profound as I think it is, or am I in that limbo of partial-consciousness where every idea sounds great? If one of the beliefs of Christianity is that Jesus died for our sins, and that God loves the world and sacrificed his only son to show how much He loves the world, then what does that say about the kind of God that God really is? I mean does this mean that God found no other way to forgive our sins than to have his own son tortured and killed in a horrible way? This God sounds more like one of the Inca Gods who were all about sacrifice, than our notion of an all-loving God.

- I’ll bet that one of the reasons that the president allocates so much money toward ‘keeping peace in the Middle East’ instead of toward finding a cure for cancer is that if the war in Iraq and his campaign against terrorism is looked at as a success – even in the distant future - President Bush will be remembered as a great hero. But, if he concedes and signs a bill allocating ten billion dollars to cancer research which results in a cure, the doctor and his team who announce the cure will be written into the history books as the hero, not the president.

The Psycho House

As we talked about in Episode 40, in 1991 I was invited by my friend, Win to Universal Studios where I sat in on the last day of filming of the movie Noises Off. During my visit to the studio, after my embarrassing encounter with Christopher Reeve, Win and I decided to take a self-guided tour of the back lot. Now, if you’ve ever been on the Universal Studios Tour, you’re familiar with the standard areas they drive through – the western town, the pueblo with the flash flood, the NYC cityscape, the Psycho house, etc. I told Win that I wanted to see all those places, but also get the opportunity to get out and stretch my legs a little as well. So win grabs two bottles of champagne from the craft services area which were destined to be popped as the director, Peter Bogdanovich shouted the last, “Cut, Print!” and off we went in a ‘borrowed’ golf cart.

It was dusk when we made our way to the NYC cityscape, parked the cart, and walked with our bottles of champagne toward ‘Sting Alley.’ We sat in that alley under a fire escape and popped both bottles. There was no one around, no sign of security cameras, no guards riding by on their little carts. We drank about half of each bottle, then headed back to the cart. From there, we drove to the Psycho house.

Again, we parked, grabbed our bottles and went inside. It was completely dark as we stumbled up the dirt bluff to the house. The inside of the Psycho house consists of uneven dirt floor and wood framing. There are no rooms to speak of, only a couple partial walls, but there was a small room built out of a dormer at the top of a 16 or 20 foot ladder. There was a light on in that room and Win told me that he heard from another crew member that they kept a replica of Anthony Perkins’ decaying mother from the movie up there – sitting in her rocking chair, and all. Win and I sat on the dirt floor, tipped the champagne bottles, and tried to decide if one of us should ascend the ladder to see if that rumor was correct. I’m embarrassed to admit that even a full bottle of champagne wasn’t enough to build sufficient courage for either of us to do that. On the way out though, we walked to the side of the house where that dormer was, and could make out the figure of someone sitting in a chair on the other side of a very dirty window. That was confirmation enough for both of us.

All in all, we spent about an hour or so driving around the back lot. I’ll probably never be able to take the normal tour again after that adventure. Win will be a special guest on The Unreal OC Episode # 42, so tune in and we’ll talk more about our adventures in the back lot as well as tell you about the ‘wrap party’ for Noises Off we went to and Peter Bogdanovich’s wife’s birthday party as well.

The Unreal OC - Episode 41 - No Sympathy

Wanna here what Ema and her sister, Linda say about me when I'm not around? Check out this week's episode!

The lovely ladies take over the show for this episode as Tom’s throat continues to heal. Ema and her sister Linda take this opportunity to talk about Tom behind his back. Special guest star: Robin, Linda’s daughter.

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My Right Nostril

Yesterday, at approximately 3:11 PM, I sat in my ENT’s office and took in a full breath of air through my right nostril for the first time in 20 years. You see, I lived with a broken nose since that fateful night back in 1987 when my friend, Jonny and I got pummeled by a drunken gargantuan outside of a local tavern. Jonny and I were walking home from 2nd Street in Belmont Shore – Long Beach, for those unfamiliar with this territory – when we noticed a huge, inebriated man screaming at a girl outside of a bar. Jonny, fueled by several quarts of liquid courage, decided to walk over to the gargantuan and inquire as to what may be the problem. He got within striking distance and was backhanded – slapped to the ground in a heap. As I rushed toward him to give him a hand the gargantuan turned toward me, grabbed me square by my shoulders and head-butted me across the middle of my face with his forehead making intimate, catastrophic contact with the bridge of my nose. I was knocked to the ground. I scrambled to my feet in an attempt to bolt out of there, but as I rose I was greeted by his fist which planted itself, again, on my nose. I was nearly knocked unconscious, but managed to dig into the sidewalk and lunge away from the scene, building momentum into what must have been the fastest ½ mile sprint I’d ever run.

A few minutes later Jonny met up with me on the steps of my parents’ house. Primed by the sprint, blood gushed from my nose like an inverted oil well. Jonny was basically unscathed. With the exception of a small red patch on his forehead from where the gargantuan’s massive hand made contact, he was fine.

The next day when I woke up and looked in the mirror I didn’t recognize who I saw. My nose had been smashed into a ball and bent in half. I went to an ENT, who with the help of his nurse who braced my head from behind, managed to bend my nose back into place – more or less. They told me that I’d probably not be able to breath out of my right nostril until I had surgery to correct the septum. They were right.

So, for twenty years, I’ve been a left-nostril breather. Not many people know that about me. I sometimes wonder how my life would be different had I been able to breath out of my right nostril for all these years. I think about all the successful people who are lucky enough to use their nose to its full potential. Perhaps I could have been a great athlete – the extra oxygen provided by that pathway enabling extraordinary feats of strength, skill, and endurance. Or maybe that small amount of extra oxygen would have allowed my brain to develop more better. . .I mean betterer. . .I mean better! See – Who knows?!? But I’m not going to worry about that now. Fact is, I’m a full-nose breather once again, and I plan on being one for the rest of my days. And Jonny – just to let you know – the next time you want to defend someone outside of a bar, dude, you’re on your own!

A Dog in the House

Last Thursday our family acquired a dog. The dog was handed to us by a family friend who found it wandering around Long Beach without a collar. Since the friend lives in a humans-only apartment complex, she was forced to find a home for the critter. This is where we came in. Now, I’m going to have to preface the rest of this entry by stating that I am NOT a dog person. I like cats, reptiles to some extent, even the occasional hamster-like creature, but dogs have never been on that short list. Suffice to say, if I was caught in an avalanche and on the brink of death, and there was a Saint Bernard coming toward me with a cask of brandy around its neck, I’d probably give a weak smile at the sight of him. Outside of that imaginary scenario, I couldn’t fathom the idea of being glad to see a dog.

So when Ema approached me in the kitchen last Thursday evening and told me about this stray Dachshund, I was less than enthused. She told me how small she was, how cute, how cuddly. How she wouldn’t wreck anything in the house; how much the kids would love her. Now I don’t know how your household works, but at my house neither my wife nor I claim to have the ‘final word’ on any decision or dispute. We compromise our decisions and come to an agreement based on the least amount of projected damage. In other words, even something as appalling as bringing a dog into the house must first undergo careful consideration before the inevitable – you guessed it – approval. As usual, my careful consideration consisted of me going on a fifteen minute tirade about how opposed I was to this idea. It’s important to let the other party know your position is soundly-framed and well-mortared so that, even in the event of you relenting, they will know exactly where you stand on the subject. The dog was delivered the following day.

I was one week post-op, still recuperating, down to my last four doses of prescription pain meds – let’s say not in the best mood to receive this canine care package. Maybe I was more vulnerable than usual. Maybe fighting the constant pain had weakened my resolve, altered my sensibilities; but I’ll tell you, when I saw that little dog my heart melted. Forty-one years of disdain, apprehension, and contempt for all things dog-like seemed to disappear.

So we’re in the kitchen, and all eyes - my children, my wife, the family friend, were upon me and everything seemed to slow down to one-quarter speed as they glanced up at my face, awaiting my reaction. I realized in that infinitely long moment just how crucial it was for me to stand my ground, not show any signs of acceptance or weakness. After all, just twelve hours before I stood in that same kitchen and read my beloved the riot act. But, it was no use. The crack of a smile escaped as the dog ran up to me and licked my ankle. I tried covering it up by morphing the smile into a smirk and saying “You are a very short dog.” but it was no use. My cover was blown. I knelt down, scratched the dog’s head and said the only thing I could think of which might save me an ounce of dignity: “You are three dogs long and one dog high. Let’s hope you never have to dig me out of a snow drift!” I turned and walked down the hallway toward our bedroom, and heard the sound of little claws on our floor scampering up behind me.

Sisters are Doin' it For Themselves!

I just finished editing The Unreal OC episode 41 – No Sympathy. Ema and her sister, Linda hosted this one as my throat isn’t up to non-stop talking quite yet. I’m able to either carry on short, quiet conversations, or belt out 4-5 good yells at the kids during any hour period. I’ve found that alternating the yelling and quiet talk not only helps my throat, but also perpetuates that whole manic-daddy persona I’ve been working on for some time. "No Nick, I have no problem with you playing ½ hour more video games today if you promise to sweep. . .SAM, LET GO OF YOUR SISTER’S HAIR OR I’LL MAKE A PERSONAL VISIT TO THE EASTER BUNNY COMPOUND AND HIJACK ALL TRUCKS OF CANDY COMING YOUR WAY!!!. . .the side walkways, as well as the front patio.”

Anyway, I think Ema and Linda did a terrific job on the podcast. If anything, I think the podcast may have turned out a little too good – professional, polished, upbeat, funny as hell. . .like they didn't need me at all. . . Well, find out for yourself when I post the episode this coming Wednesday 3/14.

I’ve got to go do a shot of liquid Tylenol, and make my Sunday morning donut run.

See ya – Tom.

Post Op – Day 5 – No Complaints Tonight!

I’ve done a quick re-reading of my last few posts, and have come to the conclusion that I’m complaining too much. So, in light of this revelation, I’ve decided to make this post 100% complaint-free!

During my hospital stay, I really liked having a nurse who:

1. Spoke very little English, and gave no signs that he comprehended one word I said during his nine hour shift.
2. Brought me blankets when I asked for pillows.
3. Brought me Kleenex when I asked for a straw.
4. Signed me up for the ‘unrestricted’ dinner of roast beef, green beans and mashed potatoes even though I was on a strict liquid diet.
5. Didn’t know how to adjust the bed length so I was, during the duration of my stay, curled up in essentially a toddler bed.
6. Did not wear a watch, and so had no clue to time and/or my medication cycle.
7. Ignored repeated requests for apple juice, but regularly brought what appeared to be random items left of food trays in the hallways – spare yogurts, a bowl of cereal, and even an open container of apple sauce without a utensil.
   

There – That felt so much better. All my negativity was really wearing on my soul! By now all of you know how I feel about bad service. It was refreshing to be treated so well by a professional hospital staff that miraculously knew what I wanted, and provided it with promptness and courtesy.

Post Op – Day 4 – I Hate Unpacking!

Ema dropped me off at my ENT’s office this morning at 8:40 AM. The appointment wasn’t until 9:00, and so I sat, hunched on the front steps, imagining the dramatic visual impact that my fetus-like stance would have on the office staff as they drove into their parking lot to start their day. “Oh that must be Tom, the one for which we’ve short-changed meds, short-sheeted beds, and failed to call his prescriptions in as promised. . .poor fellow.” Oh yes, I did say ‘short-sheeted beds,’ but that will be covered in the next post when I get into the details of my hospital stay.

But alas, all this pitiful exercise really yielded was a sore back and a cramp in the ball of my foot that is – several hours later – still nagging me. You see, by 9:10 AM there were nine of us standing in front of the office, including two, six-month-old twins with chronic ear aches, an elderly man with a hole in his cheek, and a polished-looking woman in a business suit. At this point not one member of the office staff had driven past. It was becoming obvious that the staff had a secret entrance, and about then that I put my ear to the door and heard giggling from inside. I glanced at the business woman who correctly read my cue and in one smooth motion, whipped her cell phone from her purse and pressed a single digit – the speed-dial number for the lobby of the office. I heard the phone ring, the giggling stop, and the ‘clack’ of the deadbolt as the door swung inward.

I didn’t see my ENT today. Those special meetings are granted only to those who have yet to secure a surgical contract. I saw the Physician’s assistant, Anne, today. I think they used to call these people nurses, but they may be medical students without any real credentials – I’m not sure. Anyway, for what I needed today, my three-year-old would have qualified. Today was the day I got the ‘packing’ taken out of my nostrils. I’m happy to say that my prediction in my previous post regarding the composition of the packing material was correct. It is indeed vintage newspapers! In my case, vintage obituaries, apparently belonging to some of my doctor’s previous patients. Eerie, yet fascinating reading!

The Obits were removed, and I was told to come back in five days to have the stints taken out. I didn’t bring up the point that five days from now is a Sunday. We had all been through too much by this point; and I needed to find a comfortable place to resume my recovery far beyond the sounds of the screaming twins, and the giggles coming from the reception desk.

Post Op – Day 3– Let the Irony Begin

Okay – Open wide as I provide you with your daily dose of irony as I take my daily dose of whatever this green stuff in the prescription bottle is: I get the UPPP surgery so that I will be able to breathe better at night, and I spend the last two nights gasping for breath – not getting one wink of shut-eye because my throat is too swollen! I’m certain that one day – hopefully soon, I’ll be able to read this and laugh. Sure isn’t happening now. . .

Tell ya what though – My kids sure are being cute. Sam keeps bringing me toys and books, handing them to me in a very charming way. Yesterday he brought me a box of Kraft Mac N’ Cheese, and said, “Here daddy feel better – mac n’ cheese.” I smiled so wide that my lip nearly cracked.

Here’s a quick reminder to get your “Things I hate/Things I love” submitted for our contest. The drawing is April 1^st, and the winner will be announced on episode 43. That’s it for now kids – gotta get horizontal again, finish watching the rest of ‘An Inconvenient Truth,’ and figure out how to liquefy yet another delicious meal.

Post Op – Day 2 – Misery Loves Company

First of all, hats off to Ema who went mono a mono with my ENT yesterday in a valiant attempt to get me some more potent meds. Loritab is essentially liquid Vicodin, the same medication prescribed to me for my wisdom teeth recovery two months ago. I’m sorry, but plucking a few little teeth and having my throat reamed out with a drain snake are hardly comparable and so neither should be the prescribed pain management! The doctor claimed that he doesn’t like prescribing any of the Oxy’s – Oxicodone’s for those in the know – because they are potentially addictive. In my mind, that makes about as much sense as car manufacturers advising against wearing those pesky seat belts because in the event of an accident your shoulder might get bruised. C’mon people, prescribe what I need, and let me take my own chances with the agony of withdrawal.

Alright – I promised myself that I wouldn’t build this post around one long rant, so I better make it a short one instead. My throat, by the way represents only half of my misery. My nostrils are packed with what feels like vintage newspapers and a few plastic ‘stints’ which, according to information I gleamed from my 45 second conversation with my doctor yesterday, are the only things supporting my nose at the moment. I fear sneezing out these stints and watching as my nose collapses against my face like a deflated punching bag.

More fun to come? You bet. My throat feels worse by the minute, so you can expect my next post to be even more uplifting! Keep the faith, my friends. I’ll be back to share more shortly.

UPPP Journal – 3 Hours Before Surgery

It’s 6:04 AM on the day of my surgery. I’m to report to Long Beach Memorial Medical Center at 8:30 AM for my UPPP (Uvulopalatopharyngoplasty) and Septoplasty. I considered getting only the UPPP done, as one mutilating, invasive surgery per day is usually my limit, but when they told me I could ‘super size’ the order to include the Septoplasty, well. . .I just couldn’t resist!

Yesterday I had to go to the hospital to do all the administrative paperwork, get some blood drawn, and a chest x-ray. The x-ray tech introduced himself, “Hi, I’m Mike, and I’ll be your x-ray technician,” and then asked “Do you know why you are getting a chest x-ray today?” This threw me for a loop. I mean, I assumed this type of info would be on that chart neatly tucked under his arm. But I decided to play along, “Well, I’m going in for throat surgery tomorrow, and I suppose during the procedure if the doctor sees anything deeper down my throat that needs attention, he could use the chest x-ray as a map.” Mike didn’t turn back toward me. He shut the door behind me and asked me to take off my shirt. Now ordinarily, when another man asks me to take off my shirt, it’s after a couple of drinks and maybe some playful eye-batting, but Mike was all business. A few seconds later and it was all over. . .the x-ray, that is. -Jeeeesh.

I was instructed to not eat or drink anything after midnight, and I realized immediately that the poor folks at the Taco Bell all-night drive-thru window may have to clock out and go home early. Phil and Claudette, if you’re reading this, I’ll be back as soon as I can, so keep the Chalupas hot! And that brings up another depressing thought. The lovely dinner that Ema made for me last night was my ‘last supper’ for at least two weeks. I suppose eating less will be a good thing, but eating far less is going to be a shock to my system. You see, my side dishes are bigger than most peoples’ main courses. It’s not unusual for me to have lasagna with a side of tostada grande.

Well, I better go and not drink or eat anything now. I’ll check in tomorrow with the first of several post-surgery updates. Thanks for your time, your patience, and your well-wishes. - Tom

Episode 40 - Twitterpated

Click HERE to Download!

Tom gets caught Twittering in the loft; Ema tells us about her encounter with Dean Koontz which just happens to be her most embarrassing moment; The Unreal OC hits the OC Swap Meet and teaches a slick vendor the true meaning of the term SWAP; and Tom tells about how he made a fool out of himself in front of Christopher Reeve.

Also - It's been one year and three days since the very first episode of The Unreal OC, so a warm thanks to all of you who have stuck with me (and us) for the past 368 days! Ema and I look forward to yet another year of merriment and mayhem with all of you.

Why I Don't Play Board Games With Ema and Her Sister

I went into detail on this in Episode 39 - Pigmy in a Blanket, and as you can see from this photo (click on it to enlarge), my wife and her sister like to 'make up' words in Scrabble. Words like UAENDEVOR, and HOWQUAL. This photo was taken tonight during one of our weekly "card nights."

So folks, although I might fly off the handle, and have a tendancy to climb up on my soapbox a little too often, this photo proves that the one thing I don't do is lie!

The Unreal OC's FIRST Contest!!!

The Unreal OC is proud to announce our FIRST Listener Contest!!! Granted, the prizes aren't worth all that much money, but hey - we've got a college fund to build! One of the two prizes is a Lil Sucker. See, you place it over the bottom of a beverage container; slam the container on a flat surface, and the Lil Sucker makes a suction grip with the surface so it won’t spill off your RV table, be pulled off by your toddler or knocked over by that drunken guy sitting next to you. The other prize - shipped to you in the same, convenient package, is The Unreal OC sticker - yahooooooo! It's 3" x 5", and will stick to just about anything, but looks especially good right in the center of your dining room table.

You can listen to how we obtained the Lil Sucker in episode 40, which will be posted by Thursday 3/1.

All you have to do is email us at theunrealoc@gmail.com and tell us your own Things I Hate/Things I Love. That’s it – Just type out something you hate, something you love and the reasons for each. The winning entry will be judged on originality and creativity – but don’t let that scare you – we aren’t really good judges of either.

The Drawing will be on April 1st, and the winner will be announced, and his or her entry read during episode #43. So c’mon and send in your Thing You Hate and your Thing You Love – Ema and I look forward to hearing from you.

- Tom

I’m Afraid I Might Have Extreme Hypochondria

I watched a segment on ABC’s Good Morning America on Saturday about this newly-coined condition called Extreme Hypochondria where the sum of your imagined illnesses creates a depressed, and anxious mental state from which the only escape seems to be intensive psychotherapy. Well sign me up! The laundry list of imagined illnesses read off by the host didn’t come close to the number of unconfirmed conditions I’ve self-diagnosed in the past year. Heck – I’ve even had to make up some names for diseases that our esteemed medical community has yet to discover. Like Acute Inflamatory Clamatogenisis – The highly disruptive intestinal disorder caused by ingesting four liters of Clamato in one hour on a bet. And Redundant Hyper-Ocular Amelioration – The absent-minded insertion of a duplicate pair of contact lenses on top of the ones already in your eyes.

What makes all of this so scary is that I’d just as soon sweep the notion of Extreme Hypochondria under the rug, forget about it for now, and go on about my normal life. After all, I’m going into surgery this coming Friday! I certainly don’t need yet another health-related issue to keep me awake at night. However, I can’t help but think of the potential damage I could be doing by ignoring such a catastrophic disorder! Maybe I should forgo my UPPP and Septoplasty, and address this instead. Look, if Extreme Hypochondria is as damaging as I’m building it up to be, then I may want to seek treatment immediately, and risk suffering from Post-Operative Pathological Regret Syndrome - The inevitable realization that you’ve mistakenly chosen your least-serious disorder to treat. Actually, I’ve never suffered from that one. But now I'm worried I might.

A Few Words About American Idol

It’s true; Ema and I are hooked, once again, on the contrived, insipid, and utterly-enjoyable drivel that is American Idol. This time around, Ema and I agree that the girls have got what it takes. As of last Wednesday, five divas, some still in their teens, dominated the competition, and swept the panel off of their feet - which for Paula usually isn’t all that difficult. Jordin Sparks, Melinda Doolittle, Lakisha Jones, Stephanie Edwards, and Gina Glocksen were our top picks for this past Wednesday’s show. As for the dudes, the only two who really worked for us were jokester, Chris Sligh, and beat-boxer, Blake Lewis – both of whom soared in vocal quality and performance above the rest.

As for the panel of judges this season, we haven’t had nearly as many opportunities to crack wise about Paula’s inebriated antics, which started me thinking: was she ever truly intoxicated. . .medicated? Do the memories of previous seasons deceive me? Do we really care? Ema and I do find ourselves siding more and more with Simon’s opinions of the performers. The character of Simon, and that’s really what it is, has truly mastered the abuse and rudeness for which he has become infamous. It’s often uncomfortable to watch, sometimes a bit affected, but always potently-addictive. Randy – well, Randy is the most predictable of the three, and I mean that in a good way. Every successful character group needs a good straight man, and Randy pulls it off with confident dignity.

So that’s where we are left for this week. I may never write about American Idol again, but for some reason felt compelled to get this out of my system. It’s cathartic, you know, to admit to liking something that deep down you admit is silly. And American Idol is as silly and as meaningless as a TV show built around manufactured reality can possibly be. But there’s also the sub-plot, the part of the show which often gets upstaged by the fabricated drama and cacophony. I’m talking here folks about the hopes and dreams of the contestants. So to them I say Kudos to all of you, and best of luck for your bright futures.

Twitter

How self-important do you have to be to expect anyone else to be interested in what you are doing at any random moment throughout the day? Twitter (www.twitter.com) doesn’t attempt to answer that question; rather it has produced a site which forces you to face the horrible truth yourself. Twitter simply asks the question: “What are you doing?” I don’t know what the appeal of Twitter is yet; even though I find myself tapping out text messages to their server several times per day with such meaningless tidbits as “Eating Yoplait.” or “Pumping Gas.” You can read my entries on the left side of this page, then check back periodically to watch as “Getting ready for bed” magically changes to “Can’t sleep, acid reflux, – reading comic book.” in just 30 short minutes!

There’s a primal need for connectedness amongst us Earthlings. That need combined with the compulsion for voyeurism somehow makes Twitter unquestionably compelling. You can log on and see, not only what your friends are doing, but what famous people like Steve Wozniak and Britney Spears are doing as well. That’s the other draw of Twitter – I’ll call it the Normalization Affect. If someone as successful and smart as Mr. Wozniak types in “Opening a can of peas.” or Britney enters “Checking out of rehab, walking to hair salon.” doesn’t that make you feel just a little better about doing life’s most mundane chores and responsibilities? Doesn’t that somehow raise canned vegetables or abandoning a commitment to new levels – however slightly? Will you ever be able to open another can of peas without thinking about Steve Wozniak?!? I won’t. So see, we are all much more alike than we’d care to think. “The Woz” opens canned food, Britney gets a haircut – we are all of us, as one.

And I, for one, am going to continue to share my tedious, sometimes offensive routines for all to see, because I believe in what Twitter is all about – community, sharing, and keeping tabs on friends, celebrities, and self-important bloggers the World over.

A Soldier in Search of Sacred Time

This blog entry is dedicated to the smartest, bravest, funniest, and most beautiful person I know – my wife, Ema. Those of you who know us well enough might surmise that, at this very moment, I’ve got the business end of a shotgun firmly planted against my brain stem. That scenario couldn’t be further from reality. Ema is much too fine a person to be involved with something as messy as a shotgun.

Truth is, she is an experienced soldier, well-trained in the weapons of life which allow her to fight on the front lines every day. Today she was at work and coming down with a cold passed lovingly to her by one of our three children. Sam, our three-year-old was at work with her, oscillating between throwing a fit and resting up for the next one. Ema finished at her job (one of two that she holds), then headed out to run errands, picking up Nick, or oldest, on the way to any one of a variety of exotic destinations such as the dry cleaners, the supermarket, or the DMV. All of this she does without complaint. All of this she does every day.

After errands, she returned home and did the laundry, cleaned up the kids’ rooms, made dinner, bathed the children, and then welcomed me home to a spotless, wonderful-smelling house filled with happy, clean children, and a spouse who had somehow made it through another day without consuming a fishbowl full of Mai Tais.

I help out when I get home, but realistically, by that time, the battle is over. I’m just damage control - collecting the debris, setting up an exclusion zone around the kitchen, helping the soldiers – especially the smallest ones, into their cots so they can rest up for the next day’s offensive.

It’s at this time, in the quiet of the evening when Ema, mentally exhausted and emotionally battle-scarred, can finally sit in bed, sip her tea, and enjoy an hour of peace that she has so heroically earned.

They don’t give medals for being a good mom or wife. There’s no promotion through the ranks, no ticker-tape parades. Ema’s gratitude has to come from those who recognize just how hard she works everyday. Perhaps I should tell her again how much I truly appreciate everything she does. Right now though there’s just the hint of a grin on her face as she’s reading her book. I think tonight I’ll let her read in peace, and quietly post this entry for her to discover tomorrow.

I'm Getting Old!

I’m getting old; and perhaps the most disturbing thing is that I'm not as bothered by that as I should be. One of the ways I know I'm getting old is I'm finding it harder and harder to keep pace with technology; and often find myself seeking comfort in nostalgia – daydreaming about the days of rotary phones, two-button remote controls, and socks without microchips. I bought a cell phone in late December. I wanted a phone with a decent still and video camera so that I could capture all those precious, fleeting moments of my kids’ lives, like my daughter’s graduation from pre-school, or the time when Sam took off his diaper in the bagel shop.

Unfortunately, after nearly two months, I’ve yet to snap a photo with it. Thousands of menus, tiny buttons, all of this and a migraine-inducing, user-hostile interface have left me unable to master anything other than flipping it open – one handed, by the way.

Then, only two nights ago, I saw the commercial for the Jitterbug cell phone, and I was sold. I had the same reaction a couple years ago when I hurt my back then saw the commercial for the Rascal mobility scooter. I was dialing the phone before Jeopardy came back on. That scooter would have been mine in only 36 easy payments if Ema hadn’t put a hold on the credit card. But not this time, tootsie! The Jitterbug is the answer to all my technology-induced nightmares!

The Jitterbug has large, easy-to-read buttons, a cushioned ear piece, and a bright, easy-to-read display – it’s exactly what a person in his early forties needs! Who cares if it’s marketed toward people twice my age? That silly notion never stopped me from buying those wrap-around sun glasses, wearing black socks with sandals, or bringing my metal detector to the beach! Of course when I shared my enthusiasm with Ema, she was less than enthusiastic. She insists I’m experiencing some sort of middle-age crisis. I tell her that middle-age crises are signaled by the acquisition of items meant to make one feel younger – a red Mustang GT, a 23-year-old grad student, a toupee (although not in that order). Hell, I’m not only accepting my journey into the autumn of my life, I’m celebrating it! And furthermore, if she thinks I’ll be talking to HER on my Jitterbug while I cruise around CVS on my Rascal, then she’s got another think coming, because I’ll be punching the oversized speed-dial button, and calling that hot-looking, 81-year-old widow I met last week while feeding pigeons in the park!

New Look - Same Great Taste!

That's right - Ema and I have abandoned the old "Unblog," and built a brand new Show Notes and Blog that's sure to. . .well heck - you're soaking in it.

Be sure to leave a comment if you can think of some way we can make this better or easier to use.

Suggestions - no matter how critical, are always welcome.

Cheers!

- Tom

Ode to the Altima

Watching the new owner drive away from my house in my Altima was a bittersweet moment. We’d been through much together during the past four and a half years, and not unlike the final goodbyes to someone special, I felt my throat close a little as I forced myself to stay strong.

The following poem sums up my memories, and is dedicated to my four-wheeled friend that I’ve always considered to be so much more than a car.

School bus, chariot, taxi cab, bassinette,

Hotel room for a weekend I’d rather forget,

Confessional, library, waiting room, pub,

Not for the driver - I’d wait ‘till the club,

Dance hall, bordello, ambulance, hearse,

To the friends of Trixie - I still have her purse,

Flop house, drug store, paddy wagon, tomb,

That drag race with Earl that ended too soon,

We’ve torn up some bad roads; we’ve cruised down some good,

With nary a whimper from under your hood,

And now my dear friend as I say my goodbye,

With a lump in my throat and a tear in my eye,

I hope your new owner can treat you as well,

And build wonderful memories someday he too can tell.

Focus, focus, focus

I’ve been having trouble staying focused lately. This morning I text messaged myself just to see if I was paying attention. I wasn’t. The message came across within 30 seconds. I felt the vibration in my pocket, frantically fumbled for the phone, flipped the screen up and peered anxiously at it with hopes it was that important announcement from the Kenyan Vice-President of Finance I was waiting for. Instead, I’m staring at a screen reading: TEST – FROM ME TO ME – IN CASE YOU FORGOT, I SENT THIS 30 SECONDS AGO. I blinked, then heard a soft ‘pop’ from somewhere inside my left ear that I sensed was the simultaneous misfiring of 50 million neurons. I mean it could have been that trapped bathwater that’s been sloshing around my inner ear for the past two weeks, but I chose to connect it somehow to something much more serious. You see – it’s what I do. I take a simple, temporary lack of concentration and turn it into Acute Peripheral Neuropathy.

Want another example? Two years ago I noticed that the outside of my right big toe was going numb. I looked up “numb toe” on Google, and the first thing I saw was:

Toe numbness – Multiple Sclerosis

List of 17 disease causes of Toe numbness, 11 drug side effect causes. Analysis of diagnostic tests, doctor questions, and related signs or symptoms for Toe ...
www.youstupidhypochondriac.com - 34k - Cached - Similar pages

So, for the next couple of weeks I started getting my affairs in order, paying more attention to my kids, being a terrific father – you know – acting odd. When I asked my doctor about this he rolled his eyes. . .he always rolls his eyes at me. . . then told me that my shoes were too tight and sent me home. Anyway, with his suggestion I bought bigger shoes which flopped around on my feet so much that eventually I developed plantar fasciitis. So, today my toe is still numb and I have pronounced pain in my arch with each step from wearing poorly prescribed, ill-fitting shoes!

Now. . .what was I talking about?

Episode 39 - Pigmy in a Blanket

Click here to download

The homeless man shower story, Tom’s new crazy-ass diet plan, Animated snot globs, Chicken poo and bootie songs, plus – Listener submitted Things I Hate, Things I Love.

Tom’s Crazy-Ass New Diet Plan

We’ll be talking about this in episode #39 as well because this is exciting news. I may have finally hit upon a sure-fire weight loss plan! As anyone with diet experience can attest, one of the most frustrating and discouraging elements to any diet is hitting the inevitable ‘plateau’ – that point in your diet when weight loss slows down to a point where even your new $300.00 bathroom scale fails to indicate any progress, and you start wondering just how many pints of Ben and Jerry’s Chubby Hubby ice cream you could have bought for what you paid for that over-priced piece of crap. This is the precisely the point where I usually begin fantasizing about sitting in a Jacuzzi filled with nacho cheese or testing the limits of Applebee’s policy on their ‘Endless Steak Fries.’

Well not this time! You see, at exactly three weeks into my current diet plan - the point when my metabolism finally catches on to the fact that I’m putting considerable effort into disposing my adipose, and slows to match the metabolic rate of a drunken tortoise, I’ll be having throat surgery. Now, if all of the horror stories I’ve read about this surgery are true, then I won’t be eating anything resembling normal food for more than a week. This will force my diet to stay on course and punch right through the plateau.

And for those of you worried that I might lose too much weight by taking such drastic measures, look - my fancy electronic bathroom scale shows that I have the fat reserves of a Kodiac bear in November, and with a little math, I figured out that if I stopped eating today, I could live off of nothing but water until May of 2009.

I figure by the time I feel like eating anything beyond popsicles or runny oatmeal, I’ll have evaded all attempts my metabolism has made at discouraging me. I plan on surfacing on the other side of the dreaded diet plateau, having avoided disappointment, personal doubt, and any temptation to don a bib, and start chucking random freezer items into the Fry Daddy. Stay tuned. . .

Uvulopalatopharyngoplasty and Septoplasty Scheduled!

Folks if all goes as planned, I’ll be going under the laser-guided, serrated scalpel on Friday March 2^nd. Cards and flowers can be sent to me c/o Forest Lawn Memorial Park - Cypress California.

Now look – Ema tells me I have a tendency to catastrophize a bit, but you all know that she’s a delusional paranoid, so I guess both of us can’t be correct. While you’re digesting that, chomp on this - There's no way I'm going through this procedure without dragging every one of our fine listeners down with me, so one of us will be keeping y’all informed via this here Unblog.

So turn on, tune in, and drop out. . . it's what I'll be doing in just over three weeks. That, and contemplating the words of another brave American who faced tremendous odds with the courage of a thousand generals - Lance Armstrong: "Pain is temporary. It may last a minute, or an hour, or a day, or a year, but eventually it will subside and something else will take its place. If I quit, however, it lasts forever.”

Episode 38 - Bang Bang Muffler

Nobody bamboozles Tom! Disneyland in January, the cereal diet, Ema wants to be a groupie for Chris Isaak. Do you pump for your wife? Tom does.

Be the first on your block to listen! Click HERE.

Episode 37 - The Whole Tooth

Tom’s wisdom tooth extraction, a new car, Ema rants about obnoxious up-selling, and a pre-dawn dreamlike visit to a flea market

Click HERE to be transported directly to the episode.

The Pain Chronicles - Post-Op Journal, Entry 1

Hi folks – I’m back from the brink. Yes, this tooth you see here is one of four I had pulled. This one, with its hooked roots, was the most difficult to remove. The dentist was surprised when I asked to take one home, as if he'd not been asked that before. He hesitated, but when I said "Doctor, I've lived with these teeth for 25 years*, I'm not sure I'm ready to part this abruptly with them." He relented, and gave me the 'prize' tooth. You'll notice the missing 'tail' on one of the roots. That was stuck in my jaw for ten minutes until he fished it out. All in all, so many fond memories. . .

Suffice to say, I survived. The overall experience was one of the most bizarre 45 minutes I’ve ever had. The first few minutes were the worst. The realization that the doctor had no other pain control plan for me other than Novocain and nitrous oxide. The searing pain as the doctor administered the first shots of what felt like molten copper into my jaw. The sight of the gothic-looking instruments sitting on a tray next to my head. The sounds of the teeth as they were gripped and pulled.

I’m afraid it’s all to soon to recount the detail of this nightmare. Thinking about it makes me nauseated. Plus, it's time for my salt water rinse. Be back with more soon, and for a full account of the wisdom tooth extraction, please tune into our next podcast (# 37) which should be posted in about one week.

- Tom

* Wisdom teeth usually erupt from the gumline in your mid-teens

The Pain Chronicles - Countdown to Tooth Pain, Day 0

Sometimes it's like someone took a knife,
baby, edgy and dull and cut a six-inch
valley through the middle of my soul
At night I wake up with the sheets soaking
wet and a freight train running through
the middle of my head
Only you can cool my desire
I'm on fire

I'm on fire
I'm on fire

"I'm On Fire"
- Bruce Springsteen

I had trouble sleeping last night. So many things left in this life I was hoping to accomplish. With only a few hours left until the extraction, I’m experiencing an overwhelming desire to reach out to my fellow man. Expand my normally inhibited sociological and theological boundaries – shake the hand of my neighbor; embrace the stranger on the street; French kiss a nun.

It’s at moments like this when people, facing the end of their path down life’s broad highway, often seek religion as a comfort. Waiting until the very last minute to find God, though, seems selfish, trite, offensive. That’s why I sought His guidance early last week. Although still new, my relationship with my Creator feels solid. We’ve had several discussions, and I feel fairly comfortable with His plans for my eternity. Unfortunately, as far as the short-term misery of today’s operation, my God can offer no immediate help. Something to do with playing favorites, free will, a few concepts that I couldn’t quite grasp.

Suffice to say, I’m pretty much on my own through the procedure. Let it be known, that at 3:00pm today as I stare into the glaring white dental light, my jaw jacked open, eyes tearing, heart beating like a rabbit, I’ll be thinking of you, and remembering our precious time together. Goodbye.

The Pain Chronicles - Countdown to Tooth Pain, Day 1

Yes, and thanks for that comment on the last post, Scott. I've heard tales of perverse sexual advances on unwilling and unconscious dental patients. But here's the question: if you were truly upset by the incident, then why did you schedule four unnecessary root canals for the next month?!?

With 34 hours remaining until I go under the. . . pliers, I have begun taking inventory of my life, and started compiling a List of Things I'd Like to do Before I Die. Unfortunately, with only one day to complete this list, my goals are humble, at best.

TILTDBID #1: Hold a purring kitten
TILTDBID #2: Climb a long flight of stairs
TILTDBID #3: Write letters to all the women I've wronged (I'll start with Ema, of course)

Keep the faith my sisters and brothers. . . I'll be thinking of you as I start my journey toward the Light.

- Tom

The Pain Chronicles - Countdown to Tooth Pain, Day 3

I'm not sure, but I think I might be getting a fever. I'm pretty sure the oral surgeon won't want to pull my teeth if I'm as ill as I think I am. . .I mean, as ill as I'm going to surely be once this virus takes hold.

I talked to someone at work that had her wisdom teeth pulled a few months back. When pulled, one of her bottom teeth snagged the nerve that provides feeling to her lower lip, and one of her upper teeth left a gaping hole in her sinus cavity. So now, every time she sneezes, the 'mist' shoots into her mouth then runs off the tip of her tongue onto her blouse because she can't move her lower lip to stop it.

I really shouldn't solicit advice on this procedure. So far all I'm hearing are horror stories.

Tell ya what - only comment or send an email if you have something POSITIVE to tell me.

Thanks.

The Pain Chronicles - Countdown to Tooth Pain, Day 7

Seven days until I get all my wisdom teeth removed. Opted for the 'twilight sleep' instead of general anesthesia because. . .because I'm a tough motha f*cka! Sorry - just watched 'Boyz in the Hood' . . . Would you believe I opted for the blissful, slap-happy, nausea-inducing route of 'twilight sleep' rather than the voluntary comatose route because it costs about $250 less? I though you would.

I've heard you can hear your teeth being gripped and crunched by the pliers, but the Valium and nitrous makes you not really care all that much. Hey - can I get a bag of that to go?

If you have any experience with either pain control method for wisdom teeth extraction, Ema and I would like to hear from you. Drop us a line, or add a comment below, and let me know what I'm in for.

Stay tuned. . .

Episode 35 - Cherry Mishmash!

Merry Christmas to all our listeners! Join us in this special holiday episode as we dangle from the end of our rope. If misery loves company, we're having a block party!!!

Click HERE to be transported directly to the episode.

Click HERE to visit The Unreal OC website.

Thanks for listening!

E&T

The Unreal OC - Episode 34 - The Sister

It's two against one with Ema's sister Linda joining us as a special guest; Armenian food for Thanksgiving; Salvation Army toys for the kids, and throat surgery for Tom.

www.theunrealoc.com

The Unreal OC - Episode 33 - Tossin' Shrimp

No - The woman in the photo here is NOT Ema. She would never be caught with such unsightly roots!

Join us for another romp through suburbia in Episode # 33 where Tom discovers his favorite store has a whole other floor filled with shoes; you'll learn the history of scatting; discover why apple pie may be the only antidote to the texture of raw scallops; Find out why Ema thinks there’s no excuse for bad roots, Ummmm McUnderbelly. . ., and finally we discuss the very personal and sometimes scary subject of personal hygiene.

Click HERE to be transported.

ALSO - You can leave a message for us directly from our website - click on the TUROC Voicemail on the LH side of the home page. Thanks!
- Tom

Frappr No More

After spending the better part of three hours fighting with our Frappr account trying to gain some 'manual' control of pin placement and other vital account settings, I was forced to abandon the account. If any of you know an alternative to the confounding, user-hostile Frappr, or want to share your secrets of how to play nicely with its interface, please let me know.

Thanks to all of you for joining the map. I had to manually export this list, so hopefully I'm not leaving out anyone. Thanks to:

noi - Centralia, WA

Aaron - Queen Creek (AZ)

matt - Israel

Jen and Jason Tucker - Whittier, CA, USA

Chugabug goodnight - West Palm Beach, FL

Seth - Riverside, CA, USA

Hiram - Aurora, OH,

Drew - Anaheim, CA,

Al - Burlington, VT,

Linda – Rancho Santa Margarita,

Jon – Seal Beach,

Tim A – Tustin,

Jason Watts – Irvine ,

Bill Lovelace – Buena Park,

Vic – West Hills,

Aaron – Queen Creek AZ,

Tim – Mt. Pleasant NJ,

Pat – Austin TX,

Win - London, UK

The Unreal OC - Episode 32 - UnHoly Matrimony

Ema and I celebrate 11 years of blitzfull harmony, Tom masquerades as a courtesy clerk, and is there every really a correct answer for “how do I look?”

Click HERE to be transported to our website so you can download our latest episode and otherwise loiter about and get into trouble.

The Unreal OC - Episode 31 - Trick or Ramen

Yet another use for Top Ramen, Christmas music year-round, and how DARE they interrupt my nap!

Click HERE to be transported to The Unreal OC website. Use the new PuPu player on the page to listen to any new episode or subscribe via iTunes by clicking on the link below the player.

Thanks!
- Ema and Tom

The Unreal OC - Episode 30 - This Show is XXX

Hey - What are you waiting for? Click HERE to be transported to The Unreal OC website so you can listen to our latest episode. Use the new PuPu player if you want - I won't tell anyone!

Enjoy!

The Unreal OC - Episode 29 - Chicagogoogoo

C'mon - you know you want it! Download TUROC episode 29 - Chicagogoogoo by clicking HERE.

Enjoy!

Ema and Tom

Stuff Store - Buy The Unreal OC Shirts, Mugs, More!

Christmas is right around the corner, so jump on over to The Unreal OC home page and click on the link at the top to visit our Stuff Store. There you can find original, authentic, certified, guaranteed fresh, clothing, ceramics, and other fine merchandise. We've kept the prices at their Cafe Press MSRP - no added charges to pad our wallets. Drop us a line if you have any questions - Click Here to send us an email.

Thanks and happy shopping!

Tom

PuPu Player Now on The Unreal OC Website

Can't say much for the name of this service, but it seems to work just fine. www.theunrealoc.com now has a built-in audio player so you can easily listen to all episodes from your computer - if you so choose.

So check out our PuPu player - it's a real gas! . . .sorry.

Episode 28 - Don't Zamboni My Baloney

Check out the latest episode of The Unreal OC - Don't Zamboni My Baloney!

Download HERE.

Thanks!

Tom

Portable Media Expo - The Unreal OC

Hey folks - If any of you will be at the PME in Ontario, Ca next weekend (Setp 29th and 30th), be sure to stop by the Orange County Podcasters booth. You'll get an opportunity to visit with some of your favorite podcasters like Ron from Griddlecakes Radio, Adam from The MacCast, Steve from Lifespring, Jason from History Podcast, Jeremy from Second Life Podcast and plenty of others. I'll be there too on Saturday afternoon - Hope to see you there!

Tom

Weekend Off

Ema and I took a short break this past weekend, but will be back with another episode soon. In the meantime, feel free to listen to one of my archived storytelling episodes HERE.

See ya soon,

Tom

Removing Feed: "therabbit.xml" in One Week!

These feeds: http://www.theunrealoc.com/episodes/therabbit.xml and http://feeds.feedburner.com/theunrealoc/fePI will not be updated after 9/16/06.

Please switch the feed URL in your aggregator to: http://www.theunrealoc.com/episodes/unrealoc.xml

Or, alternately, to my Feedburner feed: http://feeds.feedburner.com/theunrealoc

Also – Remember that all storytelling episodes, #’s 1 – 23 can be found HERE.

Please contact me at theunrealoc@gmail.com with any questions.

Thanks,

Tom

New Format - New Co-star

I'm excited about the new format for The Unreal OC. Elizabeth (my funnier half) and I will be doing a podcast twice a month - maybe more often, depending on our schedules. I think you'll find it to be a refreshing change, and hope you'll stay with us and maybe even tell some friends.

The new format is still family-safe and work-friendly. That's a bit of a departure from most couple-casts, and something we hope will be appreciated by our existing listeners - you folks.

Thanks for sticking with me, and for checking out our new show. If there's anything you'd like to share with us, please send us an email.

Thanks,

Tom and Elizabeth

'The Block' - Story Available Daily

Hi folks – Just a quick message to let you know that I’m
publishing ‘The Block’ as a serialized story in daily installments. This will be published in daily installments starting Sat. August 19th. Those of you who have heard this series may want to read along or suggest the feed to a friend who may not be into
podcasts. It should make for a nice, daily distraction from whatever important things you might be doing.

Thanks!

Here’s the feed:
http://feeds.feedburner.com/dreamcalendars

Here’s the site:
http://dreamcalendars.blogspot.com

Free Screensaver For All my Listeners!

Forget the old addage that 'you can't get something for nothing.' For a limited time I'm offering a FREE screensaver and free desktop wallpaper to all my listeners. It's my way of saying 'Thanks for supporting the show!' Just shoot me an email at theunrealoc@gmail.com, and let me know that you want the FREE screensaver. I'll reply with the website address where you can download it. No gags, no gimicks, no spyware!

The screensaver was created in conjunction with my new business - Dream Calendars.com. Listen to Episode 23 for the history of this project.

Thanks!

Show Correction and Stuff

I mentioned in my latest episode - #22 that I received a MySpace shout-out from someone named John. Turns out that this was from James Yorkotoro. Sorry James for the mixup, and thanks for your support!

I've noticed that I've got several new listeners from Illinois as well as Cork, Ireland. Welcome, and consider joining The Unreal OC Frappr Map. Thanks.

This week's Frappr Mappers

Hiya folks. This week I'd like to welcome Seth from Riverside, California to The Unreal OC Frappr Map. Thanks for joining, Seth!

Remember - If you join the Frappr Map - you can send me an email containing a website, blog, or podcast promo, or even a personal shout-out which I'll post on The UnBlog as well as possibly read on the show. It's a great way to promote your site, or to give that troublesome mother-in-law a long-distance, free birthday howdy. I know - most mother-in-laws don't read blogs, and even fewer listen to podcasts, but it's the thought that counts - right?

I'll be back this weekend with another episode. Thanks for reading. . .and listening!

Tom

Welcome New Frappr Mappers

I'd like to welcome Hiram from Aurora, Ohio and Jason from Whittier, California to The Unreal OC Frappr Map! Jason has two websites you can check out: www.everythingtech.tv and www.geekfit.com .

Thanks Hiram and Jason!

If you'd like me to list your website, podcast, blog or even give a special 'shout out' on The UnBlog, then join my Frappr Map, and shoot an email with your site links or message to theunrealoc@gmail.com.

The Block - Season One - Download as One File

I've received a few requests to do this, so I consolidated all six parts of The Block into one 50MB file. The running time for this is 1 hour, 11 minutes, so it fits nicely on one CD.

Please visit my website www.theunrealoc.com and click on the link at the top of the page to be directed to the download page.

I edited out most of the intros and outros so you'll hear the whole story without many interruptions. Enjoy.

The Block - 'Wrap Party' - A Total Success!

Thanks to everyone who made it to The Block's Second Life Wrap Party last night. We all had a blast. Nice to speak to all of you new listeners as well as some of you who've been dragged along for the ride from the beginning :) If you couldn't make it to the party - no worries; you can always look me up in SL - usually hanging out on Podcast Island. My name there is Tommy Burma.

Reminder: There will be no show this coming weekend. Look for a new episode on July 15th.

Second Life Wrap Party - Tonight!

Hiya - Just posted the Season Finale of The Block. Looking forward to meeting some of you tonight in SL. Here's the coordinates to Podcast Island: _Podcast Island, Podcast Island (162, 54, 25)

See ya,

Tom

Second Life 'Wrap Party' for The Block - Details

The party will be this Saturday, July 1st - 6:00PM PST in Second Life on Podcast Island in the Podcaster Lounge. Look for me, Tommy Burma. Questions? Email me at theunrealoc@gmail.com

See you there!

Me On My Space?!? C'Mon! Well, OK

OK - As if this graphic doesn't say enough. . .Yes, I finally joined My Space. You can find me at www.myspace.com/theunrealoc . I just joined yesterday, and as you can see - I'm off to a roaring start! How many people do you know that can actually say that they have ZERO friends, and can verify it? Anyway, what kicked me into deciding to set up an account was I listened to 'The Bitterest Pill' on Friday, and Dan mentioned that he checks his 'My Space' page all the time to see just how many new friends he has. I thought - hey - What a great way to interact with the podcasting community, make new friends, share stories. . . I'm not even sure how My Space works. Do I have to invite people? Do they just show up - uninvited? Pitiful - I know. But don't fret. By this time next week that '0' should be in the triple digits, and I'll post it right here for all of you to see so I can stand proud and say "I HAVE FRIENDS!"

The Block - Season Finale 'Wrap Party'

Join me and a few other podcaster friends including Lance Anderson (Verge of the Fringe, The Lance Anderson Radio Experiment) next Saturday evening - at 6pm - 7pm PST for a 'Wrap Party' in Second Life celebrating the end of season one of The Block. Check this UnBlog is a few days for party details!

Thanks!

New Frappr Mappers

I'd like to thank listeners Al from Burlington, Vermont, Drew from Anaheim, California, Bellamacchina from Santa Cruz, California, and Tim from Tustin, California for placing a push pin on The Unreal OC Frappr Map.

There seems to be a conspicuous lack of pins in the middle part of our fine country, as well as the middle parts of South America, Australia, Africa, Asia, and - well, Greenland. . .C'mon Greenland! Well, actually, I don't remember seeing any stats from Greenland, but I know I have some listeners in Australia. . .where are you?

OK - I'm done harassing my listeners. Time to blast off to work. See ya.

The Block - Characters - Brent

Samantha was looking for a loveable rebel with whom she could attach herself for the sole purpose of getting her mother, Christine's attention. But if 'loveable rebel' sits at one end of the 'bad boy' continuum, Brent sits at the far, opposite end, in the 'bad seed' category. Your typical rebellious teenager is scared to death of people like Brent, and for good reason. He isn't going through a teenage phase - he's nurturing a life-long commitment to corruption. While other bad boys try to figure out which liquor stores might accept their fake ID's, Brent scouts out the one with the weakest security so he can knock it off and grab the cash from the register. Brent lives with the unfortunate delusion that he has nothing to lose. That he wasn't made for this world, and this world certainly doesn't want him around for long. In his mind, Samantha was delivered to him by whatever dark forces rule the universe. Yes, you could say that with Brent, Samantha got more than she bargained for.

The Unreal OC - Emails, Voicemails and More

Hi folks - Some exciting news on this end - My audience doubled during the month of May, and I'll bet that much of that increase is due to you telling your friends about the show. That's terrific! As a podcaster, It's easy to get caught up in trying to build your listener base - at any cost. When I find myself going in that direction, I try to focus on who really matters - meaning you fine folks who do listen to the show - not the 5.2 billion others who don't. It's like the old theater adage about playing to the audience who IS in the theater, and not worrying about the next performance or what the people in tomorrow's audience might think (maybe that was a baseball adage. . .oh well). My point is: You people - reading this blog and listening to my podcast - are the ones that matter. Your loyalty is very much appreciated - so thank you.

I think I've mentioned this once in the past, but it's worth repeating - Did you know that I answer ALL my emails. I know what it's like to write an email to a podcaster and not get a response. That's why - early on - I decided I'd take time to answer all listener emails. AND - If it's appropriate, I'll read the email on my show. My email: theunrealoc@gmail.com Aside from Email, there's all kinds of way to talk back to The Unreal OC - Here's a few more:

• Show comments can be left on my The Unreal OC Hotline at 1 (206) 333-1185. I'll play these on the show.
• Then there's my Frappr Map, where you can place your pin on the map, letting me know where you're listening from. You can leave a message there too if you'd like.
  
• Finally, there's the ability to leave comments on each of these UnBlog posts.
  

So let me know how you like the show, or . . .how you don't like the show. C'mon - I can take it - give it your best shot!

Thanks again, and remember to stay tuned for The Block - part 4 - Coming this Saturday.

Tom

The Block - Characters - Christine and Samantha

There isn't enough Zoloft in the known universe to explain Christine's perpetual perkiness. She walks through each day with the same contrived, contorted smile that's plastered on real estate signs throughout our neighborhood. I suspect that there's probably a real person somewhere beneath the synthetic sales persona she projects; but I've never seen it. Perhaps Swingin' Steve will be able to peel back her layers and expose the real Christine.

Samantha, Christine's 17-year-old daughter, has learned well from her mother on how to project a false personality while keeping the real, more fragile one safely hidden. Between cheerleading, drama club, her advanced placement science and math classes, Samantha has tried every conventional way she knows to win the attention of her mother. Now, with those attempts apparently failing, she's forced to take a less conventional, more dangerous approach.

The Block - Characters - Swingin' Steve

Everyone should have a friend like Swingin' Steve. He's a carefree, party-at-the-drop-of-a-hat kind of guy who seems to float through life. He's the kind of guy your parents would have hated for you to associate with because he seems to live 'outside the system,' yet he isn't really a rebel - that would take too much effort! He's found success despite himself, bypassing all the things you've learned that are important to becoming successful. He's perpetually tardy (possibly because he doesn't own a watch), not entirely tactful (remember the incident with Herman at the BBQ?), and, to an outsider, seems careless and irresponsible. Christine finds all of this fascinating. Possibly because she is the polar opposite of Steve. Will their hook-up at the barbeque turn into something more than a casual romp? Hmmm. . .Only one way to find out. . .stay tuned.

The Block - Characters - Scott and Charlotte

Thoreau said "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." Well, I don't know about "the mass of men," but Scott certainly does. He's just found out that he only has weeks, perhaps a few months to live, and he's got some housecleaning to do before he leaves. His wife, Charlotte, sees life through the distorted, green hue of a wine bottle, and doesn't know yet about Scott's fate. She's walking the line of infidelity that Scott swore would be the final straw in their already disastrous marriage. Can Scott maintain his fury as the end of his life draws near? Can Charlotte maintain her fidelity in the light of her new, young fireman friend? Stay tuned to find out.

The Block - Characters - Julie and Jerry

Every neighborhood should have a couple like Julie and Jerry. Young, carefree, fun-loving, and fit, they seem almost too perfect. But these are real people who harbor real secrets; and they're finding that the more open their lives become as they entwine themselves into the block's social scene, the harder it is to keep their darker natures private.

We all build walls around us. Some of us do so to keep the ubiquitous negative forces at a distance. Others, like Julie and Jerry, might build theirs to keep those forces close.