NEW YEAR AND A NEW HURLEY (in gestation)!!!

It's been forever - or at least months - since our last posting. This is the problem of having no counter, feedback or accountability to the blog.
It still feels like a not so private diary of indulgence so there's no "you never write" guilt.

Although we've been lax on the digital front - we have been incredibly busy.

Seamus tends to start his days at 4 am, pull on a red shirt and heads out to rable rouse.
More specifically, he is the rabble rouser in charge of the Writers Guild strike line at Universal/NBC.

He's got fantastic stories that I will let him share in another post.

As for me - wiped out by 6 stimulating but exhausting months on Wired Science, I had lofty plans of an extended NY vacation with family and friends around Thanksgiving, but instead I rolled straight into running the upcoming season of Trading Spaces on TLC.

Paige Davis - whom I adore - is back and it's a whole new team at TLC so the show is being revamped into a network worthy, primetime feeling, tentpole series. So far episode 1 looks killer so we just need to keep hitting the high bar we've set for ourselves.

The downside is that it's a 7 day a week job because we air weekly starting Jan 26th.
The upside, I really like the folks I'm working with.

Because of the unexpected new job and it's Saturday after Thanksgiving start date - instead of 10 days in NY, Conn and DC, I spent 2 glorious days on my parents couch holding my perfect nephew Jackson Ezra (son to Josiah and Felicia) and surrounded by my parents, in-laws, grandma, extended family, and my favorite Aunt.

More on Jackson:
Hes beautiful, smart, highly advanced and very handome.
He doesn't actually do much yet - so we entertained ourselves by feeding, changing and bathing him - and also putting a speakerphone under his butt to pretend he could talk.


More on my aunt:
Sydne is now fully recovered from the bout with cancer that left her alternately voiceless, prodded with needles, soldiering through chemo and surgery and generally uncomfortable. She is full of energy again and back to high spirits. We are all REALLY, REALLY grateful.

And in the spirit of burying the lead.
I am pregnant with a baby girl who is due to make her entrance into the world on May 27th.
Seamus and I cannot wait. Her "inside" name is Spanky McPantsPants and there is a short video of her at 13 weeks below. The part at the beginning where it gets cloudy is me cracking up and laughing when I first saw the image.

Oh my god - it really looks like a baby!

Much love to all!

Aliyah and Seamus

Don't Ask Don't Tell

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Seymour_Johnson_Air_Force_Base
I'll take this as proof that either 13 year old boys or Bart Simpson are at least the rank that is in charge of naming bases.

In cat news, the cat #4 was very pregnant. Stephanie took her home to birth the kittens. We'll see how that turns out. She didn't look pregnant at all, so my hopes are low. For any other cats, I be changing my tactics. I think I can get some help from the neighborhood, so I returned Jennifer's trap to her.

In Red Sox news:
This is a picture of Manny hitting a ball so hard it landed in the Bronx. Rumor has it the ball landed in Jetter's make-up kit, shattering his compact's mirror and giving him 7 years bad luck.

The Reviews Are Already Coming In!

NY Daily News
8:00 p.m. (13) "Wired Science." This may be the most successful attempt
by PBS in a decade or more, going all the way back to "Alive From Off
Center," to aggressively court a younger, cutting-edge audience. That
series was all about the arts. This one, coming from the folks at Wired
magazine, is all about the sciences - including a bank robbery done via
the Internet.

Detroit Free Press
Wired Science" (10:30 p.m., WTVS-TV, Channel 56, PBS). Series premiere.
Produced in association with Wired magazine, the fast-paced weekly
journal, co-hosted by Chris Hardwicke and Kamala Lopez, explores
cutting-edge advances in science and technology. Sharp, informative, fun.

Westchester NY Times Herald
The new series "Wired Science" (8 p.m., PBS) offers a quick and
entertaining roundup of science and technology stories. The experts are
young, and the tone is fast and cheeky.

TV Barn, syndicated
Joining "Nova" and "Nature" on the PBS lineup this week, "Wired Science"
is a wholly successful adaptation of the leading print magazine of new
technology. It's fast-paced, yet substantial; serious, yet with a light
touch.

USA Today
PBS teams with Wired magazine for Wired Science (tonight, 8 ET/PT, times
may vary), which promises to take an irreverent approach to scientific
subjects. Up first is a report on a botnet attack on Estonia's banks and
newspapers. And if the term "botnet" is a stumper, then the show and PBS
are fulfilling their educational mission.

Hartford Courant
In an attempt to present a hipper version of "Nova," the new "Wired
Science" (CPTV, 8 p.m.) uses the resources of the tech magazine Wired to
present a mélange of interesting developments, usually involving the
Internet. It starts with a story about a huge Internet crash in Estonia
caused by robots. The smart-alecky host you're trying to place is Chris
Hardwick, the former host of "Shipmates."

Hollywood Reporter
Bottom Line: Mr. Wizard" for the grown-up but hip generation

My friend Vic Sarjoo -
"Hey -- This is great. It's like 3-2-1-contact for adults.
Watching the russkies cyber-attack Estonia segment online now.
I'm genuinely engaged."

Dan Abrams (to me and Damon Gambuto, producer extraordinaire) : "Overall, I would watch and enjoy this show even if I didn't know you worked on it.But because you're two of the smartest, most entertaining people I know I get the positive vicarious kick that surpasses my higher expectations."
Check out Damon's blog at http://www.pbs.org/kcet/wiredscience/blogs/2007/10/the-making-of.html

My Dad -
"Hey Sweetie, It was great, we loved your show. We watched it all the way to the end and your card was longer than David Byrne's. We're very proud."

GET WIRED

Dear Friends,

The first of ten episodes of Wired Science, the series I've been producing, premieres on October 3rd. That's this Wednesday at 8 PM on PBS.

I'm incredibly proud of the show.
It's smart, funny, engaging and has taught me loads that I didn't know before.

Check out the video previews at:
http://www.pbs.org/kcet/wiredscience/

The hosts are:
Chris Hardwick (yes, from singled Out). He's friggin hilarious and a legit geek.
His website is http://hardnphirm.wordpress.com/. (PLEASE WATCH THE VIDEO UNDER FEINGLASS GETS PHIRMED - V FUNNY)
Ziya Tong - super hottie and smartie pants. In addition to being a great host (she's won the Canadian equivalwent of an Emmy) she's also a good friend and the person who recommended me for this gig.
Kamala Lopes who is talented & lovely &, like me, went to Midwood High School AND was on Sesame Street as a kid. What are the chances?
Adam Rogers - he's the science editor for Wired Magazine and the Meteorite Hunters pieces was his first TV appearance. He's a natural & this show will make him a star.

Depending on what kind of TV viewer you are, maybe you'll watch it because you donate to PBS and you want to know how I’m spending your money, or perhaps you'll watch it because it's HD and it will let you enjoy the full functionality of your flat screen investment, or maybe you'll watch because you are my grandma.

Whatever reason you watch, I think you’ll enjoy it.

If you prefer not to commit your TIVO time until you know what the UConn Daily Campus has o say - well look no further. There is a ridiculously hyperbole filled review at: http://media.www.dailycampus.com/media/storage/paper340/news/2007/09/26/Focus/Wired.Takes.On.Tv.In.science-2992949.shtml

In other news, I've been spending loads of time in the edit bay.
For any of you who work in television (or movies or promos), you'll appreciate these two links.
Rough Cut Lady (went around last year, but still hilarious).
Impossible Promo Approval Guy

Aliyah

Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 2, line 137 vs. I'm Gonna Get You Sukkah

"...That it should come to this!"

It is hard to write the words that express how great this week is.

(1) The Red Sox won the division title tonight!

It has been 12 years. We've been to the play-offs since then. We've even won the World Series since then. And, admittedly, I was worried for a while that a 14 & 1/2 game lead this season would ultimately be squandered.

I also admit during the second half of the season I regularly sent e-mails to Julian Tavarez offering him increasing amounts of money to stab Julio Lugo. [Not "career-ending-stab," just "60-day-DL-stab."] Then it was J. D. Drew. Finally, I just wanted Gange to have an "kitchen accident." By the end, $300 was the most I could raise. Perhaps I didn't try hard enough. Or, more likely, I should have just cut to the chase and solicited Yankees fans. Regardless, jtarvarez@dustyballs.com never responded.

An obscene amount of my time this week was spent being a Lay-Z-Boz Francona and debating other Red Sox fans and several homeless people (side-note: there is significant overlap between these groups in Los Angeles) if it would have been better to be well-rested and the wild card team or to be the division champions and tired. Now it is a moot point and sadly I can't get those hours (or the 3% of my Pabst-eaten liver) back.

ANYWAY...

The Red Sox beat the Twins (as it should be) and the Yankees lost to the Orioles on a bunt in the tenth inning. If there is any justice, Jeter-tear-flavored Cheerios will be on E-Bay tomorrow.

(2) The Festival of Sukkot has started!

By far this is my favorite Jewish ceremony. (A) We get to sleep outside. (B) By sleeping outside we pay respect to people who had the courage and dignity to rise up and declare "I built the pyramids. Up the Pharaoh with this a slave thing!"

Early on, Aliyah and I agreed to raise our children Jewish and Red Sox fans. I look forward to building the Sukkah with them, explaining why we are sleeping outside, and teaching them that their ancestors (both Jewish and Irish) never backed down, and that it will be a cold day in Hell before they do.

Lastly, here is my favorite version of "Hamlet":

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNmL2jX7M2M

Happy Talk Like a Pirate Day

Today was International Talk Like a Pirate day. I hope all you scallywags had clear skies.

In my attempt not to obsess over the Red Sox's diminishing lead over the Yankees, I thought about my second biggest baseball wish: I want the Brewers to win the NL Central Division.

The Cubs and the Brewers are tied for the division, and I feel the Cubs fans' pain, but I want to see this more:

http://peeyourpantsforthebrewers.com/

Being a NL Central fan must be awesome because you get to see to two teams with the best names, the Brewers and the Pirates, play all the time. Often they play each other. Awesome.

Don't get me wrong - I am proud of my team, but I wouldn't mind it if we weren't named after smelly clothing. The original Boston team was called the Boston Americans. That was a great name. After that there were the Boston Braves, which became the Atlanta Braves. Also a great name, but I understand that it is/was taken after they moved.

Then we got another team (imported from Minnesota I think) and somehow, instead of going with a name that would declare to the world how great we are, that would intimidate our opponents, we got... socks. Stinky, stinky socks. Misspelled. Why? What was the logic? "Oh no! Look out everybody! Here come the Sox! Hide your borax and your washboards!"

Speaking of logic, once upon a time I studied for the LSAT. This was an actual LSAT prep course question, and now it makes a lot more sense:

Fill in the blank with the most logical choice. American patriot, fierce Brave warrior, sock, ______.

(A) panty hose
(B) rubber shoes
(C) Curt Schilling
(D) Bucky F. N. Dent
(E) a sense of fulfillment
(F) a ski mask
(G) a glove
(H) a tapeworm
(I) Snuggle, the Fabric Softener Bear

CAT UPDATE: I hadn't gotten my trap or Cat #3 back yet so I called Stephanie during lunch today. She just called back with the best news possible. Cat #3 is being adopted! Century Vet rocks!

I'm Gonna Git You Sucka!

Possibly the best thing the Wayans Bros. Clan have done was this movie.

Wednesday night, I set the trap again. As I was leaving for work the next morning, the trap was sprung but no cat. But I heard a cat in the bushes, so I set it again (with low expectations).

Aliyah took the day off for Jewish New Year's Day. She called me about an hour later as she was leaving for services. Success! I asked her to put the male in the back yard and I'd take him to Century Vet during my lunch hour.

I came home to this surprise:


This is not the male. This is a cat I hadn't seen before. Judging from this picture, it may have also been a vampire. My arch-nemesis had outwitted me again. But, what the heck, I grabbed some garlic cloves and holy water and went to Century Vet anyway.

Stephanie was there. She took one look at my vampire-cat and said "That's a girl. And I think that's someone's pet." Regardless, owners are responsible for fixing their pets and keeping them from roaming. Stephanie took her. A couple of her co-workers remembered me from my last time there and asked about my new catch. We all agreed it was much more fun to cut off the gonads of a pet than a stray.

Jennifer told me that the females are probably happier once they are fixed because they don't have sex on the brain all the time. Having been a thirteen year old boy at one time, I could relate.

Stephanie released her on my porch that night while Aliyah and I were out living the Hollywood party scene. We went to the NextFest, which is a grade school science fair for adults. I fought a virtual Arnold Schwartzeneger, walked inside a human sized gerbil wheel, and almost managed to get a ping pong ball in an innocent bystander's martini.

I actually saw Cat #2 the following morning. She was aloof for some reason. My best guess as to why is because she's a cat.

Jennifer is fairly sure that even though I haven't seen him since that night, the male will come back. Stephanie's co-workers thought that now that his girlfriend is of no use to him, he's long gone. Somewhere in here is a mildly interesting sociological study of how people I know project their own life experiences on to the behavior of my arch-nemesis.

BREAKING NEWS:

As I am sitting here writing this, this happened:


This one is smaller but has the same coloring as Cat #2. Probably related. I think I'll call it Cat #3.

What is going on? Jennifer warned me that 2 cats turn into many quickly. I'm pretty sure that we'd have fewer cats if everyone just followed the rules for owning Gizmo (don't get them wet, don't feed them after midnight, and don't let them do sequels with Hulk Hogan).

Cat Scratch Fever

For a few months, there have been a couple of stray cats living under our house. This was fine for a while but it came to a head when Aliyah came home one night to this:
It's not clear, but this is two cats humping. Aliyah yelled at them. She stomped her foot. They were unfazed. They kept humping. (I wish we had video!)

For the uninitiated, a male cat’s penis is barbed. This is what it looks like:
Awesome and scary.

So... When my parents came out a few months ago, my Dad did a great job of putting screens over the ventilation holes and access points under the house. But there were a few places he couldn’t get to. And one of those places was good for stray cats. In my very Irish way, I ignored the problem until this happened:My friend Jennifer... ...is a feral cat specialist. She’s pretty hot, right? You should buy her album at www.greene-house.com

In LA, there is a network of people who specialize in wild cat colonies. The upside of them is that a few feral cats hanging around do a great job of keeping the rodent population to zero. Environmentally friendly + zero maintenance = The Best of All Worlds.

Downside: Two cats = 100 cats in less than 1 year. Why? Cats care less about incest than the FLDS.

So.... here is one more equation: Cats humping on front steps + Cats don’t stop humping when Aliyah yells at them + Seamus must defend house from cat urine smell = Seamus calls Jennifer for advice. It turns out Jennifer has cat traps. They’re very ingenious. The cat, tempted by food, steps on a trigger plate, and a wire gate falls. So...

Wednesday about 3:00 of the clock... Jokingly, I say to Lesley (my boss) “Hey, we’re done. Let’s go home!” She says “I don’t need you for anything else. Feel free.” While feeling slightly hurt that my boss has just called me useless, I remember Jennifer and I had talked earlier in the week and while she wanted me to catch he cats, but she also wanted her cat traps back sooner rather than later because an alpha female at her colony had given birth for the 50th time this year. So I said to Lesley: “Okay, I’m going to go and catch those gosh-darn pesky cats.”

It didn’t work out well. Here’s the breakdown:

4:30

I put in plenty of food. As Jennifer had coached me, I had not put out food the night before.











4:45





I put out extra food now. I still feel bad for lying to the Pet Co guy who was trying to up-sell me the bigger bag of food. I told him “I’m buying the smaller bag because my cats are all Hollywood: they have a print ad shoot with Kate Moss on Tuesday.” Which is sadder: He was okay with me starving cats or he understood Kate Moss would only be photographed with anorexic cats?

5:30 - No cats
















6:30 - No cats

About this time I remembered cats are nocturnal. I felt stupid for leaving work early. This picture is taken through a screen. That’s why it looks like a lame Grateful Dead album cover.








7:30 - still no cats

By now I had gotten to the 3 level on Nintendo Wii’s “Red Steel.” I started to worry the cats were scared by my samurai skills.









8:30 - Success!

The female took the bait. She did not cry. Following Jennifer’s advice, I took her into the back yard and put her on a raised surface with a towel over her. I guess cats are like little children that way: they think that towel or a blanket is monster armor; or if that they can’t see monsters, monsters can’t get them.



Meow, monsters, meow.

After she was secure, I went back to the front porch to clean up the spilled kitty kibble, but the male was “hiding” (poorly) around the corner of the steps. Here’s a picture of him through the beveled glass on the front door:


He’s the gray-ish blob near the bottom. He’s eating the spilled kibble. I called Aliyah and whispered to her: “Your not coming home soon, right?” That came out the wrong way. After a long whispered explanation of why I didn’t want her to come home, I looked out the door again. He wasn’t going for it, so I went back to “Red Steel.”


By the way, the Nintendo Wii is excellent. That having been written: we had a little trouble at first. We bought was a Japanese unit. Yes: Japanese. All of the directions looked like PickUp sticks. So I called the help line. Brian, my Help Line Guy, had no idea why or how that could happen; which is disappointing because apparently it is well known that the demand in North America was high enough that Nintendo diverted a large number of units from Japan to America. If that happened, of course there would be a few units the don’t get the hard drives switched out. What is also disappointing is that Brian told me that I had to talk to he retailer about this problem.

1. The instructions from the Wii specifically say if there is a problem, do NOT take it back to the retailer and
2. the problem was caused by Nintendo diverting Wiis to another market and they
   
1. didn’t take ownership and
2. didn't inform their customer service people this might be a problem.

But anyway, I got another the next day and I have a new found love for tennis, and Aliyah and I are talking about putting the Wii in a bigger room so I stop hitting her in the face when I use my back-hand return.

I still needed to catch the male. I ignored Jennifer’s advice about putting only dry food as bait. It’s practical advice - you don’t want stinky cat food spilling everywhere - but I suspected that the male had seen what had happened to the female and I needed to sweeten the pot, so I added some of this:














9:30 - Still no cat.
Around this time Aliyah came home.














10:30 - Still no cat.


Aliyah began to claim I loved the Wii more than her. I chopped the head off an evil Samurai. She said we should watch the new episode of “Rescue Me.”








11:30 - Still no cat.















Around 12:00 midnight we’re watching the end of “Rescue Me” when I hear the crunching of cat kibble. I give Aliyah the signal (licking my paws like the drummer from Kiss) and whisper “This pussy is all mine!” Then something went wrong. Before I had a chance to look out the window I heard the gate shut, but when I looked outside he wasn’t in the trap. All I saw was this:

I don’t know what happened. The trap tripped early. The male got out. Maybe the newspaper I used to line the cage was too heavy; too much newspaper - and when he stepped halfway in the extra half ounce of pressure caused the gate to fall early? Regardless, he looked at me for a while, then sat at the end of my driveway for a half hour.


Then he walked off and never came back. I haven’t seen him since.

The next morning I got up early and there was still no male cat in the second trap. So I put some newspaper and a garbage bag on my back seat, and woke her up and drove her over to my friend Stephanie’s work.





This is Stephanie and her boyfriend Jeremiah. He works in the one part of the booming LA theater world that makes money: doing tech work. He will build you a set so fast you won’t know your Lorca from your Wilder. Stephanie is a veterinarian's assistant. Also, she likes to brag about how her dad can beat up Jean Claude Van Damme. I’m not convinced that is a bragging point. What I think is brag-worthy is she has a 20 years old cat that looks like it is 10, so she knows how to take care of animals. She also has a parrot that hates men.

The people at Century Vet are awesome, no hassle, I-know-my-shit take-no-prisoners. Unless those prisoners are feral cats trapped in cages in which case it is their job to take the prisoners and cut their gonads off. In zero time they took this female, operated, and returned her to me.

The end of this story is uneventful because I was dealing with other things the night she was returned. But I can't let this entry go out on a low note, so here's an awkward segue. When she was fixed, she was pregnant. Speaking of the unborn - here’s a picture of Patrick’s 3rd child:


Congratulations to Pat and Tanis. Tanis is three months pregnant. What was going on 3 months ago? Oh yeah...
I'm glad you guys had a productive weekend too.

Nancy Brings Karaoke Ice to LA

Nan flew in last night from Austin bearing gifts of Texas BBQ.

She'll be here for over a week with an art project that she Katie & Marina created called Karaoke Ice. They've plotted a route that fully canvasses lesser known/served LA communities and successfully avoids conspicuously hipster hangouts. Their planned route includes Watt's Tower, Belmont Village Assisted Living of Hollywood and the African Market and Cultural Faire.

Karaoke Ice needs to be seen to be fully appreciated, but in essence it's a 1950s ice cream truck that's been converted into a mobile karaoke stage. Remedios - a silent squirrel - is the encouraging Emcee and favorites of the 80s, 90s and today are reconceived as tinkling ice cream truck tunes.

I flew up to San Jose last year to see the project in action
Here's a link to some coverage that does it justice.

http://www.mercurynewsphoto.com/2006/08/12/karaoke-ice-at-zeroone/

KI is an intense project and Katie, Marina and Nancy are rarely in the same city nowadays - so when they are there's loads to do. But Nan got to town first, so she and Seamus and I got to spend a relaxing evening sitting outside catching up, drinking wine and eating - what else - slow cooker stew and homemade ice cream.

Nancy leaves in less than 2 months to start the next chapter of her life in the Netherlands.
For now it's just a ceramics residency, but I cannot help but fear that those wily Dutch will charm her with their clever and authentic design, their respect for artists and their institutionalized penchant for cycling.

From what I know of the Netherlands - it would be difficult to create a place more suited to Nan. Their tourism brochures may as well start with, "Dear Ms. Nowacek". So I'm struggling with the fact that my best friend in the world might be happiest in a country that's another 5 hours further away.

In the meantime, I'll be enjoying the time we've got and I plan to spend this week following the bus around greater Los Angeles.

The Sycamore Compound

I got a call from Seamus yesterday asking if I wanted the good news or the bad news. I chose "bad" because I always choose "bad" figuring that even if the bad news is devastating I still have something to look forward to.

The bad news was that someone had tried to break into the house.
The good news was that the alarm had scared the robbers off.

We've been robbed once before.

Last October, while we were out at Josiah and Felicia's rehearsal dinner, robbers came in and stole a milk jug full of of quarters, Seamus' guitar, a bunch of DVDs, our playstation and a bunch of unplayed PS games that Helga and Chris had JUST given us. It was a sucky thing to come home to on a Thursday night after a long drive home from West Hills.

Seamus was the one who figured out what all was missing - I never made it past the pillowcase.

Former roommates and ex-boyfriends will attest that I am obsessive about keeping my towels and pillowcases pristine. I travel with a clean pillowcase and will sometimes double bag if I pillow sees particularly likely to harbor mites or mildew. Given my particular crazy person filter, the first and only thing that I noticed out of place was that one of my 1000 thread count pillowcases was missing and the bare pillow was touching the sheets. YICK!

It took me a moment to put together that someone had not recognized the luxurious comfort of my beloved pillowcase, but rather had used it as they might a flour sack or laundry bag to make off with our goods hobo style.

Honestly - if not for the pillowcase, I would never have figured out we were robbed.

If you know me well enough to know the pillow thing, you probably also know that pre-Seamus I have always lived in spaces that looked like they were recently ransacked. Being robbed, having my place tossed for evidence, or being hit by a highly localized tornado are all occurances that frankly would have flown under my radar had the pillowcase not afforded me a CSI moment.

After that night in October, we installed an alarm system. And that was that. $20 bucks a month bought us a high decibel alarm, warning stickers in every window and peace of mind, until yesterday.

Seamus left work immediately in response to the alarm call.
He was home by 5:30 PM.
The police didn't get to the house until 1:45 AM and when they did arrive they made us show ID to prove we weren't the robbers. They then declared that since it was so late we should just come by the next day to file a report.

The robbers didn't get in. They tried the back door, tried to pull the air conditioner out of the bedroom window, and ultimately got the kitchen window open enough to set off the alarm and scare themselves. But, if they were watching to gauge police response time, they would have realized they had over 8 hours. That's enough time to call in a moving truck.

So Seamus is now in "protect the compound" mode. He took the day off work and installed barbed wire and razor wire around the perimeter of the house. It's the equivalent of a club for a car. He's also got plans for a fence and he's going to get together a neighborhood watch.

I'm not as freaked out as I was the last time we were robbed. Last time I felt violated and exposed, but I was also unemployed and spending almost every day alone in the house.

It also makes a huge difference that they never made it in, but I hate the thought that there are opportunistic theives in the neighborhood. I don't think thieves are as excited about my crock pot, ice cream maker or silverware as I am. But frankly, since the wedding we have a lot more stuff I care about.