Showing posts with label Tempe AZ. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Tempe AZ. Show all posts

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Don't believe in God? You are not alone.

by Pa Rock
Pernicious Provocateur

The National Rifle Association has barely had time to mop up after its week of licentious behavior and public urination and vomiting in downtown Phoenix when the Valley of Hell has to begin preparing for another big-time conclave. This time it's the humanists who are headed into town - well actually humanists, atheists, and agnostics. The American Humanist Association will be having its 68th Annual Conference in Tempe on June 5-8.

The Phoenix area is a hotbed of racism and snarling Christianity - and proud of it! The arrival of all of these godless perverts and intellectuals is guaranteed to drive our hate-mongering, gun-toting, white Christians even more nuts than they already are. (It's probably fortunate that the humanist convention did not overlap with the NRA's hooker fest!)

And just to spit in the eyes of our local pious populace, the humanists will be unveiling a large billboard at a yet-to-be-disclosed busy location. The message: "Don't believe in God? You are not alone."

Stay tuned for updates. This is going to be more fun than a ringside seat at the cage fights!

Friday, February 27, 2009

An Impending Rupture of the Belly

by Pa Rock
Drama Critic

Odessa Benson got a group together tonight and we all descended on Tempe to see the Stray Cat Theatre's latest offering, a tragedy entitled An Impending Rupture of the Belly. This was the third Stray Cat production that I've seen, and all have been well worth the cost of admission and the drive across Phoenix.

A tragedy is a story that is destined to end badly. This was a simple tale of a young husband, soon to be a father, whose world is slowly falling in on him. Clay struggles to control his environment through grandiose plans, but in reality he can't even keep the neighbor's dog from taking a daily dump on his yard. The dog is crapping on the yard, and life is crapping on Clay. His spiral is constant, and it is downward, and it ends very badly indeed.

Michael Peck was the actor who was totally submerged into Clay. He was on stage throughout almost the entire production, displaying a range of intensity and emotion that was remarkable. Scott C. Jeffers played Clay's supervisor who prodded and goaded him into misbehavior, while Courtney Weir was Clay's pregnant wife who kept trying to tug him back into reality. Tom Leveen portrayed Clay's brother, Ray, who was somewhat drug-addled and irresponsible, and, regardless of intention, always seemed to complicate Clay's life. Larry F. Penunuri, Jr. was the neighbor with the defecating dog. Each member of the cast was a master of their craft, but it was Peck and Penunuri who gave this play its major friction.

Ron May directed An Impending Rupture of the Belly. When this season ends in April, the very talented Mr. May will have directed three of the four productions presented by The Stray Cat. The Phoenix New Times, the Valley's ass-kicking alternative newspaper and the bane of our infamous sheriff, has recognized Ron May as "The Best Thespian to Keep an Eye On."

The Stray Cat Theatre is alternative theatre at its best. Their productions are quirky, edgy, and thought-provoking. They choose superior scripts, form casts from the best talent the Valley, and confront their audiences with extreme reality. An evening at the Stray Cat is always an engrossing and disturbing experience.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Jimmy and Me

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

This evening is the kickoff of the President's Day weekend, and what better way to spend it than hobnobbing with one of our five living U.S. Presidents. Jimmy Carter, my absolute favorite ex-President, was at Changing Hands Bookstore in Tempe, Arizona, signing copies of his latest book, We Can Have Peace in the Holy Land. I ordered two copies by phone early in the week, one for each of my grandsons, and showed up at the appointed time tonight to have them signed.

I had visions of waiting in line with a hundred or so other people and being able to chat with President Carter while he leisurely signed books for Boone Macy and Sebastian Files, both personalized, of course. I fully intended to tell him how much I appreciated all that he has done for the poor, at home and abroad, and to thank him for continually showing America's better face to the rest of the world.

The reality of the evening was two lines of people packed two-and-three abreast stretching for blocks in two directions. I had to work my way, very slowly, through the left line to pick up my vouchers (book tickets), and then get in the right line where I worked my way, very slowly, to the front door of the bookstore. Once inside the store I had to show the vouchers three times as the line snaked up to the place where President Carter was indeed signing copies of his book. We were herded past the President, who looked up and smiled between books as he automatically scribbled his name. Our line was about three feet in front of Jimmy Carter. We were warned not to take pictures as we walked past, but I, of course, did anyway. Then we were handed our books from a pile that he had already signed. Those with cameras were then shunted off to the side where they could try to get a picture by shooting through the line that was walking past.

It was a book-signing factory.

The highlight of the evening was getting to see President Carter. He is eighteen days older than my father, and looks almost as frail. Rosalyn was not in evidence, which surprised me because you never see one without the other. The President was as personable as he could be, given the circumstances - smiling and making eye contact between books.

But the evening had other highlights as well, and I managed to enjoy it all. First off, I got lost on the way over to Tempe and wound up pulling into a Circle K to buy a soda and get directions. A lady panhandler hit me up for spare change as I was going in, telling me that her three children had no food. I promised her that I would catch her on the way out - and I did - giving her three bananas that I purchased inside.

Security at the event was interesting. There was a squad of local police on the other side of McClintock Drive - a busy thoroughfare. At least one policeman was on top of the bookstore and occasionally peeked over, much to the entertainment of the crowd. Several police and Secret Service were inside of the bookstore, but President Carter appeared to be fairly vulnerable despite all of the "protection." Everyone was pulling cameras out of their pockets and purses and snapping pictures. Security was nowhere nearly as tight as it is at Skyharbor Airport.

I stood in line next to a young man from England (the town where Wedgewood Pottery is made). He had come to the University of Arizona twelve years ago on a scholarship, and stayed after graduating to work in the computer industry. He hadn't pre-purchased a copy of the book, and learned, after being in line for an hour, that the bookstore had sold out of the Carter books.

There was a troupe of entertainers working the lines: a man on stilts, face-painters, and a balloon artist. A wonderful Black lady and her second grade daughter were in line behind me. The balloon artist made a sceptre of balloons for the little girl, which got me to calling her "princess." It was a liberal group, and we quickly got around to discussing Obama. I asked the lady if she had seen Obama in Phoenix last February, and she responded that she had not, but she had been to the Inauguration. Then she pulled out her Blackberry and showed everyone nearby a photo of her and her daughter with a very relaxed Obama. She had been at a hotel where he was vacationing while he was in the Senate. She had asked Michelle Obama to take the picture - and described her as being very courteous.

Another diversion was a group of war protesters holding signs and singing out next to the boulevard. One lady brought her sign up to the line and began talking to us about the war. A police woman on a bicycle came up and told her that protestors with signs had to stand out by the road. Several people were working the lines handing out pamphlets for various causes.

It was a fun evening, with more than a passing feel of the sixties!

My history with Presidents: I saw Tricky Dick Nixon and Pat in Springfield, MO, while I was in college. That was before he became President. I also saw Reagan on two occasions before he became President, as well as Obama one time prior to his election. I saw George H.W. Bush at a Fourth of July parade in Marshfield, MO, while he was President.

And...Barack Obama will be in Phoenix next Wednesday selling the stimulus, but specifics for that visit have not been announced as of yet. Watch for me on the evening news!

To cap off a nice evening, I pulled through El Pollo Loco on the way home and bought a box of the world's best chicken! All in all, it was a very good evening.

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Come on Baby Light My Fire!

by Pa Rock
Citizen Journalist

This recession (depression?) doesn't have many bright spots, but one small one is that I don't seem to be receiving nearly as much junk mail as I did even just a year ago. And the unwanted stuff that does land in my mailbox seems to be of a higher quality, or at least more interesting, than the crap that used to be wadded up with my first class mail.

Yesterday, for example, I received a very neat little piece of mail from an organization called The Neptune Society. The small envelope looked expensive, like something that might hold a formal invitation to something special. There was a notation on the front that read "Take care your your New Year's resolution today!" The backside had the return address of The Neptune Society in Tempe, AZ, along with a logo of a large ocean wave.

In my hand I had an unopened fancy envelope that looked like it contained an invitation, a notice that I was going to get something worthy of being a New Year's resolution, and a company name and logo that strongly implied a beach setting. It was so obvious: I was going to be invited to buy a condo on the seashore. The clues were all there!

Imagine my surprise when I opened this missive and learned that the Neptune Society was focused on fire rather than water. It was a crematorium service selling pre-paid cremations. I have a philosophy on body disposal that is not conducive to cremation, but I'll get to that in a minute.

Anticipating that not everyone who opened their mailing would be amenable to parting with their cash for a barbecue in the sweet by-and-by, the Neptune Society dropped a baited hook into their offer. Anyone who would fill out an information card and request more details would be entered in a sweepstakes. Once each month a winner would be drawn from all entries and that winner would receive...are you ready for this?...a pre-paid cremation! Last month's winner was George C. Bryson!

I plan to partake of a green funeral when my time comes. Green funerals, like cremeations, are much cheaper than the morbid shows that the funeral industry has foisted into state laws and onto grieving families who feel to ashamed to haggle over prices when discussing the eternal comfort of the dearly departed. States with green funerals are allowing people to be buried unembalmed and in cardboard coffins that will quickly decompose. That way corpses become compost feeding nature instead of bloated poison meat locked in mahogany and concrete just taking up space - for eternity. And cremation? Well, that's just a waste of good plant food!

So, I'm still debating whether to give the Neptune Society my personal information or not. I hope to never have a need for their services, but a certificate for a pre-paid cremation would be a really unique gift that I could pass on to someone special for a birthday, or Christmas, or just to say "I'm thinking of you today!"