What Victory Tastes Like

More later,

Mark

My Favorite Two Words: BEARS WIN!

Ah...

Tomorrow at work I will devour orange-and-blue doughnuts, drink free Diet Pepsi and generally rejoice in all of the obnoxious splender associated with the Chicago Bears victory over that Pittsburgh team that cannot kick.

One cool fan-cam I found shows Johnny Knoxville's awesome touchdown catch:



Me and one fellow Bears fan held down Jillians until Mary got off work in the fourth quarter. Because of stupid scheduling – the Browns were the late game – there was NO Steelers coverage on local TV, putting all of the Pittsburgh fans in a bar with me (Bears cap, Forte jersey). Were we nervous after the Stupiders marched downfield on the opening drive and scored an easy touchdown against the Bears? Sure. In the end, however, there was much rejoicing in our little corner of the bar.

That image of the Squealers kicker looking like he was going to cry is something I will not soon forget. I hope he has a day job...

It was a low-scoring affair, something you don't normally associate with Ben Roethlisberger. Allegedly.

With the Slackers losing, this was HUGE victory and I could not be happier...

More later,


Mark

That Darned Kanye!

Earlier today, I came to my site and wouldn't you know it but that kooky Kanye had to barge his way in...

It looked a lot like this:

Mark's World Interrupted

Someone has to get him under control!

Sheesh!

More later,


Mark

Obama Gives a Shout Out to The Vindicator

We were all a little impressed that the president worked us into his speech today at the GM/Lordstown assembly complex. It looked a little like this:



More later,


Mark

Directing Conrad Brooks

CONRAD BROOKS, LEFT, IN "PLAN 9 FROM OUTER SPACE"

I was walking the Monroeville Exposition Center floor during Saturday's Pittsburgh Comicon when I saw a sign over a booth for "Conrad Brooks."

The name was familiar. Where did I know it from?

Turns out, it was THE Conrad Brooks, sole cast survivor from infamous movie director Ed Woods' classic bad film, "Plan 9 From Outer Space."

He portrayed "Patrolman Jamie," one of the two officers constantly dispatched to investigate the mysterious cemetery goings-on that somehow involved Bela Lugosi, Tor Johnson, Vampira and a chiropractor.

Just the previous weekend, in fact, Mary and I had enjoyed a copy of the recent RiffTrax send-up of "Plan 9," courtesy of co-worker Robert McFerren who learned of my love of truly bad movies. RiffTrax is made up of some of the cast of the old "Mystery Science Theater 3000" show who are famous for augmenting a movie's soundtrack with their own often outrageous commentary. The "Plan 9" riff was excellent.

Well, during my first visit to the booth, I obtained an autograph from Conrad and enjoyed talking to him for a bit. He's quite the character at 78 years old. And I promised to stop by later for a DVD. He has starred, it turns out, in quite a few productions since "Plan 9," and has even tried his hand at directing.

So, I returned three hours later, filled with the after-glow of meeting Stan Lee and Conrad had seemingly forgotten me in the interim. Heck, he's quite popular and the crowd was a fair size – and he's 78 – so I cut him a lot of slack.

What you will see next is the unedited video of that encounter. It turns out, the much-maligned Mr. Wood probably had his hands full, if the entire "Plan 9 From Outer Space"cast had a much energy – not to mention, technological skills – as Conrad.



He was attempting to say ...

ConradBrooks.Com

... but the camera stalled before he got it all out at the end.

Eerie, eh? If Criswell was still alive, he might remark, "My friend, you have seen this incident, based on sworn testimony. Can you prove that it didn't happen?"

That part you see when the camera moved early in the clip occurred when Conrad mistook the camera for, apparently, a tape recorder or something. Then he launches into a perfect Ed Wood spiel. Then promotes Mark's World. And then he sells me a DVD.

I found him to be endlessly entertaining to talk to and was glad that I had a chance to meet him. I kind of knew what to expect from the Stan Lee experience. Conrad was an unexpected, but fantastic, pleasure.

More later,


Mark

I (Kinda) Meet Stan Lee

THE HOLY TRINITY: STAN, ME, SPIDERMAN

I was thinking about this over the weekend: Living in Ohio has given me the opportunity to meet many of my childhood heroes.

Last year, I met Gale Sayers and Dick Butkus during the Pro Football Hall of Fame induction weekend in Canton and then had dinner with Adam West in Niles. Sayers and Butkus were the heart of the Chicago Bears team that first awed me when I was 9 year old; West starred on the TV show that captivated me when I was 6.

In many ways, that kid is still alive inside somewhere. Hence, less than a year after my dinner with Adam, the kid talked me into taking the opportunity to meet Stan Lee.

For the non-true-believers and the uninitiated, Stan is the creative genius behind Marvel Comics who, along with Jack Kirby, Steve Ditko, Roy Thomas and others reinvented the comic book genre in the 1960s. Their impact is still felt on pop culture even more than 40 years later.

Don't read comics? OK. Have you been to the movies lately? Ever hear of Spiderman, Iron Man or the Fantastic Four? Stan the Man had a role in the genesis of all of them. And the X-Men. Daredevil. You get the idea.

He is an icon and he was booked for the Pittsburgh Comicon at the Monroeville Exposition Center. Mary and I had toyed with the idea of attending, but her work schedule got in the way.

The kid inside kept reminding me: "Stan is 86 years old and what are the odds we'll ever get another chance to meet him? It's only 70 miles..."

So, I decided to hit the convention solo, snatching up two of the remaining Stan Lee autograph passes ($40 each which I thought was a bargain) and a one-day pass for Saturday, though I eventually upgraded to a Sunday pass to when organizers talked me into staying for the Saturday night auction.

The convention was a hoot. It is not one of the huge, corporate deals like the San Diego Comic Con run by the fine Wizard folks. The Pittsburgh event is homegrown and has all of the pluses – and minuses – such efforts entail. I won't go into a blow-by-blow evaluation (Like: The floor was big and featured many cool booths – but there was no map or guide to what was where) but suffice to say I had a great time and hung out with fellow geeks of all ages.

And the place was a geeks dream: Scores of artists were on hand to talk to fans and sell their artwork; tens of thousand of comics were on sale; every superhero toy you ever sought as a kid was there for a price.

I spent the first couple of hours walking the floor, staking out claims and comparing deals. At about 12:30 p.m., they started lining us up for the afternoon signing. Tickets were numbered through the 800's; mine were in the mid-600's.


IT'S A LONG LINE

For the better part of the next two hours, I stood in line bonding with my fellow fanboys. There were all ages there. Directly in front of me was a high school student/football running back who had called off of work and now fretted about what to give Stan to sign (the convention folks could have done a better job letting folks in line know there were no items like 8-by-10 pictures of Stan available to get signed). I tried to talk him into getting his cool Avengers-themed hat signed; he chose a blank piece of paper to get framed.

Behind me was a Cortland resident who manages one of the big Mahoning County bar/eateries. He agreed to shoot a pic of me when I got to Stan and did an awesome job as you can see aboved.

Now, they sold 900 passes which meant poor Stan's hand was going to be hurting after the five-hour signing. The actual signing was a precision-like assembly line: Items were taken, slid across a long table to Stan, an aid told him which color of Sharpie to use, he signed, mumbled, you moved on.

I chose, from my comic collection, two books from Marvel's early era that were penned by Stan: "Tales of Suspense" No. 47 from 1963 (featuring the last appearance of Iron Man's clunky armor and "Amazing Spiderman" No. 40. featuring the second part of the epic battle with the Green Goblin.

Now, after the signing, you could stand in another line to get a "certificate of authenticity" for $3 a piece. After trolling the floor and snatching my brother's Christmas gift, I got into that line just as Stan's signing duties had wrapped up. As he was whisked into his awaiting car, he came by and I reached out and got to shake the great man's hand!

"Hey Stan," I said.

"Nice to see you," he said as he shook and moved quickly along.

It was awesome! Excelsior!

Now I have videos which I will put up tonight. All in all it was a great weekend. And while Stan Lee was awesome, someone else stoled the show...

More later,


Mark

I Am A Rock Star!

Those who know me well know that I am a student of arcade/carnival games.

I like to watch the games, figure out the angles and excel. Hence we've won tons of watches, TV's, bikes and other items at the Mardi Gras on the Main Street Pier in Daytona Beach as a result of gaming during our many vacations. During our trip this past August, we snagged a power washer for my Dad.

We go, play and let the points accumulate. A couple of years ago, I picked up a Wii at Happy Days Arcade in Old Town in Kissimmee, where we celebrate our anniversary every year.

Plus, I am the Crane Master. Show me one of those prize cranes with stuffed animals and i will win. Every prize has a specific weight balance; a center.

All it takes to win arcade games, I often tell people, is patience and a total disregard for money.

So, last week, The Vindicator published a picture of an arcade game that caught my attention:


Michael Snyder, a vendor who runs a dart toss game at the Canfield Fair, waits for customers. © The Vindicator

If you look closely, you can see that if you play for $20, you can win an electric guitar. To me, the attraction was electric, frankly. And irresistible.

I sought out the booth after my Saturday morning shift at the Canfield Fair in The Vindicator booth. I snapped this picture of our cool booth during a rare lull in traffic:



I watched a few players at the game. You had to throw a dart and hit the colored section of a star with very thin points. Most players would aim for the star directly across from them; about a seven-foot throw. For some reason (Gimmicked? Too well-worn? Poor velocity?) the dart would stick in the white around the star and bounce off of the colored star. I decided that I would arc the darts up toward the top, gaining some velocity on the way down and choosing the stars less-often played.

I plunked $20 down and after three shots, I had perfectly and symmetrically surrounded a star. I hit no color. But all of the darts had stuck.

I plunked down another $20 and took better aim. The first landed well within the colored part of a star. Winner!

I still had two darts. Though the sign clearly limits players to just one prize per day, the guy running the game – who couldn't have been a nicer guy – let me continue on. The second shot: Winner! Other players took note. There was some amazement. The third just hit white.

So, I picked a black-and-white Crescent bass, that came with a gig bag, strap and accessory kit that includes a tuner and a pick. It looks like this:



You can find it for about $100 on eBay.com, so I figured $40 was a decent deal.

More importantly, I had won. And there were a few jealous stares as I walked through the fair, clutching the heavy, full-sized bass.

"Nice bass. Where did you get it?"

"I won it throwing darts."

"What? Really? Where?"

Now, I should point out I don't actually PLAY the bass. I have no musical talent whatsoever. None. But now I want an electric guitar to match...

More later,

Mark