MILLER PARK MASSACRE

A few notes

So I decide to check in on MySpace page to see what's shaking on that part of the internet and find out I have a message waiting in my inbox. Naturally, I assume it's some kind of phishing-type thing ostensibly from a young lady using a pic of her thong-covered ass as a user pic and naturally, I am correct. However, there's a little twist to this come-on that frankly bothered me:

Hello. Bring the tequila sexy!

My mother wants to date you. I love this site and showed it to my mom. I helped her browse for guys and she asked me to contact you after she read your ad. If you are looking for a good time with no hassles, I think you'll enjoy my mother. She loves to chill � she listens to movies on our new tv, but she also likes doing physical activities. She loves to bike around town. She's very attractive and can be mistaken as my sis. Don't worry though, we don..t wear the same clothes, here stuff is more sophisticated. Take my mom out on the town! Send your reply to her email address, please don..t reply to me. This is her address: marie_faber_c at yahoo.

Good luck!

Yes, apparently I'm too old for fake teenagers to express an interest in my hot bod and be believable. Now it's their "mothers" who have cultivated a romantic interest in me and judging from "she listens to movies on our new tv", it's the blind moms. For some reason, this just depressed the hell out of me today.

So to lighten the mood (and fullfill a request from a reader), may I present: YOU CAN"T BEAT FUN AT THE OLE BALL PARK:

Mike Frisbee: 1/4/1948 - 7/9/2008

8 years ago, it was not uncommon to find Your Humble Proprietor over at his baby momma's house late on on Friday night. And while his very young son slept and the owner of the apartment drank, he would sit on the couch and navigate the 10-12 channels that were available on the small television in that tiny apartment.

One evening all those years ago, the ancient television settled on channel 12, Iowa Public Television and YHP was startled by an incredible apparition! It appeared to be an older gentleman in a three-piece suit sitting cross legged with his trench coat covering his shoulders. But where a chair would be, there appeared to be nothing at all! This wizened old man was apparently levitating! And, to make things all the more amazing, the footage was seemingly shot outside the boundries of earth's atmosphere for stars and nebulas were seen just over his shoulder!

Now one might expect that, upon finding oneself in this condition, one might cry out or at least proclaim to the viewer how it was possible to survive in deep space without oxygen or even a means of propulsion. But, alas, the only thing this seemingly superhuman being wanted to talk of was how we were about to see not only the debut of Katy Manning as Jo Grant, the Doctor's latest companion, but the debut of Robert Delgado as the Doctor's most reliable antagonist (save the Daleks, of course) the Master! And As YHP watched "Terror of the Autons" (still his favorite story arc) he became more and more enmeshed in Who lore until his already shaky social life ground to a near halt.

Thanks, Mike.





Michael “Mike” Charles Frisbie, 60, of Clear Lake, IA, formerly Des Moines, Iowa, passed away Wednesday, July 9, 2008 at the Mercy Medical Center North Iowa, Mason City, IA.

Due to his wishes he was cremated.

Memorials can be directed to the family or the Clear Lake Public Library.

Mike was born Jan. 4, 1948 in Chicago, IL the son of Charles H. & Ila Jean (Walker) Frisbie.
Mike graduated from Clear Lake High School in 1966. He attended Drake University in Des Moines, IA, where he was very active in theater. Mike wrote & helped publish an underground newspaper called the Daily Planet. He taught the history of Rock & Roll at Drake and also worked for public television and hosted the Dr. WHO Show. Mike was a disc jockey on Des Moines radio station, KFM6 FM. After retiring from television he worked for Bordes’s Bookstore in Des Moines. Mike moved back to Clear Lake in 2007. He enjoyed his books, music and old movies, and was the founder of the Nosferatu society, and was president of Nosferatu Productions.

Mike is survived by his parents C.H. & Ila Jean Frisbie of Clear Lake; sister, Diane (Bruce) Rich of Sacramento, CA; two daughters Megan & Brahwen of Des Moines; nephew, Nick Frisbie; uncle, Bob Walker, Mason City, cousin, Nancy (Chuck) Conroy; and good friend Dennis (Lily) Kieth all of Clear Lake.

He was preceded in death by his grandparents, brother Dave, and sister Jill.


Ward-Van Slyke Colonial Chapel, 101 North 4th Street, Clear Lake, IA 50428, www.colonialchapels.com

Blog Update

Looks like I picked the wrong time to stop blogging!

Sorry about the inactivity this week. I really intend to make this a pretty regularly updated website, but, as usual, real life intrudes. I'll try to get something up later this week. Until then, enjoy this guy complaining about ICP's latest album. Burlington, IA represent!

Breakfast in America - Branson part 1

The Clown Prince of the Ozarks

In the late 90's my mother decided she had enough of Fort Madison. She was dating a guy that was in the construction field at the time and since most of the projects had dried up in the area, they decided to split for a place with more lucrative contracts - Springfield, IL. That relationship ended badly but my mom persevered. She found a job working for FedEx and met someone local. This gentleman worked in an auto lot selling giant pick up trucks and as a result of some business contacts, he was able to score part-time rental of a really sweet apartment in a vacation resort complex next to Silver Dollar City deep in the heart of nearby Branson.

Now, let me start off by saying most people's notion of Branson - that it's some sort of dumping ground for old, has-been country western and pop crooners - is largely correct. Andy Williams still makes his home there and Jim Stafford keeps plugging away, putting on a weekly show featuring his entire family. It's also home to hokey, family oriented sideshows like The Baldknobbers and "Somebody will probably watch this shit"-type stuff like Tony Roi's Elvis Experience. About the only thing that connects all the different types of shows are a) they appeal mostly to the elderly and b) they all cost a shitload of money.

This year, money was tight (mostly due to $4 gas) so we decided to be frugal during this year's vacation. We ate mostly groceries we brought with us, hung around the pool at the apartment and decided against another trip to Silver Dollar City (which costs upwards of $50 per day PER PERSON). Last year, we attended this cheap little breakfast show at this run-down little bar/restaurant which was put together in part by the resort we were staying at which featured a lot of the "B" talent in Branson and, although the actual breakfast part was terrible, the entertainment was hilarious. And as the improv troupe put on a painfully unfunny skit, I thought to myself "Next year, I'm bringing my fucking camera. Nobody will believe this shit"

And I did.

Thanks for coming, try the hash browns!

Well the location my have changed (the sketchy restaurant it was held in last year had closed so it was held in the lavish resort restaurant this year) and the food had improved (except for the OJ, which tasted foul), but I still saw a lot of familiar faces that morning. As far as I know the improv troupe had mercifully closed their doors (they actually convinced my sister and my mom to attend one of their shows, she said they were among the 12 or so other people to do so), but, God bless him, THE VOICE was still in the hizzay!

...down, down, down, down....

Last year, this guy was the star of the show. Starting with the ridiculously overblown introduction the MC gave him last year, John Tweed was in control of that room and never let go. Fuck Matt Berninger, listen to THESE chops:

You see the MC flashing his hand at the end of the clip? That means "Applaud you fucking ingrates! You think John Fucking Tweed does this shit just for the free breakfast buffet?"

Sadly, THE VOICE was not the main attraction at the club house that morning. Nay, that day was a special day, indeed, for appearing for the first time at the beautiful Stonebridge Resort was the one, the only, JIM OWEN!

"Seriously though folks, the Branson wax
museum is the most important attraction in town.
It's where they keep Andy Williams between shows!"
(actual joke told by Jim Owen)

What do you mean, who's Jim Owen? You mean you're in the same boat as everybody except three or four people in the crowd that morning who didn't know who he was when the MC asked? At first there were some rumblings that he was on Hee Haw, but that was Buck Owens. JIM Owen didn't appear on that particular show, but you may have heard of a song called Louisiana Woman, Mississippi Man? Yeah, he wrote that. Conway Twitty and Loretta Lynn thought it was pretty groovin' and took it to number one back in '73. Yeah, you're welcome.

So you may be asking what brought such a luminary as Jim Owen to a cheapo ticket hustle like this. Was there truly too much love in his Mississippi heart to pass up a chance to meet face to face with even a small crowd of country music lovers as assembled there on a hot June morning?

Close. He had an angle:

"Electric Youth! Feel the power..."

Yup, Jim had stopped by to pimp his niece to the 40-50 seniors and assorted tourists finishing up their pancakes. She popped off some little dancy pop number while Uncle Jim stood to the side gamely clapping his hands. But before they let us out to enjoy a fresh day of faux-hillbilly entertainment, it was time to give the people what they wanted: a sneak peak at some new Jim Owen material, sung by the man himself. I didn't catch the title of this song and I apologize for cutting off the first part of it. It was one of those "Wait, what the fuck did he just say?" kind of reactions and I had to scramble to get my camera out, but rest assured, once this baby hits the airwaves ain't nothing gonna hold it back. I like to call it "God's Angels Support Our Troops, Why Can't You?":

Stay tuned for Part II coming next week! Four words: Dolly. Parton. Dixie. Stampede.

-YHP

Welcome!

Your Humble Proprietor had a little trouble sleeping last night. He had left the windows open at his apartment when he left for work and came home to an oven. So late into the night, while the AC hummed furiously, YHP laid down on his futon and sweated.

He sweated and he thought about how much of a shithole myspace had become with it's unavoidable procession of ads and technical glitches and comely lasses obsessed with telling people about how to make money without even leaving the house climbing over themselves to be his friend.

He sweated and he thought about the livejournal account he created on a whim so many years ago. How he lost whole posts to the weird editing set-up. How it's been over-run with people working out their own kinks using Tranformers erotic fiction.

He laid and he sweated and he thought.

And as he drifted off into dreams, thought about building a place where he could share his thoughts on music and movies and television and sports. A place where he could keep people up to date with his goings on and current events. A place where he could pass on information about events and activities he enjoyed. A place where he could rant about perceived injustices and trends that bothered him. A place where he could share his dreams for the future and a place where he could create a dialog to bring people together and maybe show them that, despite their differences, they were valued and respected.

Then the next day he had some problems setting up a Facebook account so he threw something together on Blogger.

Much posting to come - including more pics and video from my trip to Branson, MO!