After far too long, The X-Files returns tonight. For die hard fans, the return of Mulder and Scully does not come a minute too soon. The Lone Gunmen, Skinner, The Smoking Man, and Deep Throat were all memorable and fascinating characters that made The X-Files fascinating and smart all rolled up into one fantastic ball of TV viewing.

Now, as soon as the NFC Championship game nonsense gets over we can get to the truly important business of the evening. Football is temporary, but The X-Files is forever.  It’s 804pm and they are showing a preview? Come on!! Oh geez, the postgame show? Seriously? Nobody cares at all about postgame, OK, maybe 9 guys care, but I’m not one of them! Interviews, confetti, a trophy, blah blah blah. Bring on the aliens and smart people!

Of all the people waiting to watch The X-Files, exactly 4 of them care about the postgame show of the footballing game. Yep, four. The rest of us super cool millions are getting very impatient and wish the commercials and sports balling nonsense would STOP!!

Now they are interviewing Grizzly Adams himself. I thought he passed away in the last couple of weeks? Ah, here we go, a whispered interview with some dude in glasses who is probably a coach of some kind. Losing team, nobody would have cared if you had won. Seriously, the past is the past, move on, buy a book, put together some LEGOS…boo freaking hoo.

Now they have a freaking countdown clock to the start of what we are here to watch. I least they are in some way acknowledging that The X-Files still exists. I can only imagine how nuts the sports balling fans must be going seeing that on their precious football viewing screen.

Finally! We can now get to the topic of this blog post. It….has……begun!!!

That opening sequence was phenomenal…bringing back memories of prior cases/episodes, the helicopters chasing the UFO, the crash of the UFO with the hand and then the most epic X-Files music and opening that they did not change. Thank you! The feel of the original is still there.

“Why would I watch this jackass Scully?” Ha! In reference to the conservative blow hard talk show host spouting off about God and guns. A great way to re-introduce Fox “Spooky” Mulder to the world. “You never know when a gun toting liberal might go Hinckley.” Ha….the humor and snark remains. On top of everything else Mulder and Scully look fantastic. As always.

As the location changes, the font used in the lower left of the screen has not changed one ounce since the original run of the series. It is these very details that fans out there in the world are LOVING at this very freaking second.

The crashed UFO is simply fantastic. Jutting out at an angle like that from the ground. The military presence, the guy in the dark suit…and just now…a freaking ALIEN is crawling away from the scene. And…of course…..the fucking morons with guns kill the thing! Sum bitches. Why is it that some white guy with a gun is the one to ruin a perfectly good UFO crash scene and take out the first alien seen alive? Something is moving…BAM! Got em dead now Pa! Fuck….leave the alien alone. Get to know it, have a conversation with the thing, you might actually learn something for a change.

Scoop mark scars on the young woman’s abdomen. I don’t remember those from the prior 202 episodes. Fascinating. I’m wondering if these sort of scars are often reported post abduction? This little factoid is just screaming for additional research. Huge warehouse, people being met…who could it be? Who could it be?!?! Some guy walking Mulder through the science…this has to lead somewhere good. Always be aware of large warehouses or abandoned hangers. Not what they appear to be EVER! Holy crap…the ship is hovering on zero point energy and can freaking cloak itself! Hold me.

The introduction of the ever present conspiracy therapy developed nicely. Not in your face and overdone. A simple re-statement of a general theme that brings us ever forward into the sense of unease and slow burning excitement that this show has always done exceptionally well.

Skinner opening the old office with the “I Want to Believe” poster laying on the floor. Holy crap that was almost the best moment yet. I still love Skinner. Something about that dude that is so cool. So cool that back in the 90’s I had an AOL email account Sk47xf4a….it stood for Skinner…who was about 47 at the time, X-Files, 4th season, alien. Yep….that is when you know you are way involved in a TV show….and Skinner. Another way to know you are a true fan is when you still have the memorabilia you bought at StarLand in Denver….a small sci-fi comic bookstore that received way too much money from a graduate student who really couldn’t afford toys. But now, the collection is epic to say the least.

“A conspiracy of men against humanity.” You know things are getting serious when a line like that comes out of your mouth and the man to whom you are speaking just gently nods. The old guy in the hat, I love him already. Let’s hope he makes more appearances because he clearly knows what the deal is with the alien conspiracy.

As always, Scully is frustrated with Mulder’s antics. But look at her, just below the surface their is the still smoldering something that she has for Mulder….and that Mulder has for her. It is the play between the two characters that make them so intriguing. One of 37 things that make these two characters intriguing.

This O’Malley characters sucks. He is like a fungus that keeps appearing when it is simply not wanted. A spiky haired egomaniac that wants attention and nothing more. He simply does not have the good sense to recognize that he is out of his league with Mulder and Scully. Hell, this guy would be out of his league with a 2nd grader with a mediocre imagination. Perhaps he serves some greater purpose, let us hope that it is vital and important because he is fucking annoying. He is like a dim witted frat boy from Liberty University. A man with few life options and a total turd blossom.

You know things are turning into a shit show when jack booted thugs bash through doors in matching black Hummers. They are there to flex their authority and nothing more. Who hits a Scientist with the butt of a rifle? Jack booted thugs that’s who.

You know you are on the ball when you sequence an entire genome because you don’t trust initial test results. That is taking follow-up to an entirely different level. Scully is the best kind of over achiever. The type who reads a book and then reads the footnotes found in that very book! Follow through is just that important.

A fireplace grate with CARPE DIEM engraved at the top. Classic. And there he is…..The Smoking Man taking a long drag through his tracheotomy tube….and the episode ends.

So amazingly freaking happy to have The X-Files back in existence. I WANT TO BELIEVE.

Two previous trips to Paris in June 1987 and April 1988 were full of the usual tourist sights. The trips were part of German and French language tours and were a rush of buses, fellow students, pre-planned meals, and being herded around like cattle. This provides a mere glimpse of a city. Even with these short visits I knew that Paris was something special.

A third trip to Paris in October 2014 changed my outlook forever. This city got under my skin and dug in deep. Every little thing is now compared to what something similar was like in Paris. One example would be traffic. The traffic in central Paris is massive. Gridlock at every turn. However, in Paris the drivers seem to take it in stride and offer a simple “beep beep” of the horn to indicate their impatience. There was no loud and long honks of the horn, there was no yelling at other drivers, no visible road rage. It was all very civilized and very French. Beep beep.

The people in Paris dress really well. Small children, young men and women, professionals, and the elderly. All are dressed and accessorized to the point you can tell that they take the time to look civilized. The attention to detail (scarves, gloves, hats) was oh so very nice to see and such a change from the t-shirt and sweat pant fashion staples of home.

Food and drink are taken very seriously in Paris. Separate stops in the morning for pastries and coffee. Wine with every meal after breakfast. Long drawn out meals full of conversation and enjoying the company of who you are with. Meals are not rushed because they are important. Wine flows heavily because it is how things are done and a shared bottle brings people together. Wine was available in sizes from a small glass all the way up in 4 stages to a full bottle. Again…the word to be used is civilized.

On the same topic of food. The different variety of shops for food was a nice change and seems to make a lot of sense. Separate small shops for meat, wine, cheese, pastries, seafood, chocolate, and produce. The one grocery store that was explored offered the basics. Canned food, cleaning products, tin foil, paper products, bulk items, etc. The other things mentioned above were purchased daily or several times per week. The freshness of the items in these small shops was apparent. The smells of the cheese, meat, and seafood shops were intoxicating and wonderful.

The museums in Paris are completely ridiculous and wonderful. The Louvre of course has to be seen and the first stop really should be the Mona Lisa. Down the escalator, straight ahead, up the steps, take a hard right, and march like crazy until you take another right into a room that houses the famous woman on the far wall straight in front of you. It’s all worth it. The Louvre is wonderful and cannot be missed. However, it was the Musee d’Orsay that will blow your pants clean off. Situated in an old railway station, this museum was by far the best I’ve ever seen. Small room connected to small room on both sides of the building. I distinctly remember going into a room and being stopped in my tracks by a huge painting by Henri de-Toulouse Lautrec. Blown away and I’m still not sure why. I simply could not stop staring at this painting. Amazing in so many ways. I think it featured prostitutes. Pretty sure.

I would mention the experience at the Opera Bastille and a production of Tosca by Giacomo Puccini. However, I’m not sure I could stop typing describing how fantastic things were. Trust me, opera in Paris is something to experience. Sigh.

If you do not like food, wine, art, museums, architecture, fashion, culture, music, and all things civilized don’t go to Paris. You will hate it. Stay at home and leave this magical and wonderful city to those that truly love everything that the city has to offer.

A casual glance at social media posts this morning show the usual onslaught of thoughtful and squishy postings about family, memories, and how grateful people are to merely exist on this fine Thursday morning. Reading these makes me think so many have their personal priorities just a bit out of whack. Let’s talk about some better and more realistic priorities.

Drinking. Wine bottles lined up like loyal ancient servants waiting to go to battle on behalf of their master. Different sizes and shapes and flavors. The choices seem endless and bring on a sense of contentment rarely found without so many wine options. On top of this add cognac, port, brandy, beer, egg nog infused whiskey and you have a happy and well hydrated group of people.

LEGOS. A brand new multi hundred piece STAR WARS Lego set extravaganza. Thanksgiving demands a large flat surface which is exactly what is needed for LEGOS. Everybody else can be watching the parade and oohing and awing over large inflatable cartoon characters. Lame, boring, pointless. The focus is LEGOS and should always be LEGOS.

Cooking. The planning and preparation of a non-traditional Thanksgiving feed menu. If done properly, the planning should start in August and continue up to the very morning of the big holiday. No turkey, no stuffing, no cranberries. Not much else to say here as it is self explanatory. If this makes sense then you as a human being make no sense.

No children. Nothing makes a holiday more special and memorable than having access to a big house and NOT hear the pitter patter or SOUNDS of small obnoxious human beings. The pure lack of children present is something to truly be thankful for this time of year.

There is a very important distinction that must be made. Musicals and opera are not the same thing. Ever.

A musical has dialogue with musical numbers throughout. An opera is sung all the way through. Straight dialogue in opera is called recitative and will minor orchestral accompaniment. Let’s review….a musical….talk…talk….talk….SONG!….talk….talk….SONG!….SONG!….I hope this is clear.

An opera…..singing…singing….singing….singing….singing….all with orchestral accompaniment. If you have sing Fiddler on the Roof, The King and I, CATS, Phantom of the Opera, A Chorus Line, you have seen musical theatre NOT opera.

Do not try to impress your friends with your knowledge of opera because you have seen The Lion King five times. You have still not seen an opera.

To put this in perspective, if you are a huge football fan and somebody refers to quarters as INNINGS your skin will crawl because you are so annoyed. Same thing happens when someone thinks a musical is an opera.

Andrew Lloyd Webber, despite his many talents, has never composed an opera. This includes Phantom of the Opera which is a musical.

There is something very ritualistic about writing with a fountain pen. This experience expands to something some would call spiritual when that fountain pen is being placed on a high quality piece of paper. High quality paper has a way of sucking the up the ink that is flowing so smoothly from the tip of the pen. A smooth and silky quality exists that cannot be replicated outside of this combination of material.

Anything worth writing deserves the use of a fountain pen. A writing requirement because more interesting and easier to accomplish when the task involves the use of a fountain pen. Difficult becomes manageable and the writing process seems to slow down when one uses an instrument that is built with care, is weighted for balance, and has the appearance of something from a different time.

Say what you want about Chuck Mangione. Soft jazz, elevator music, no substance, blah blah blah…I’ve heard it all. If you say such things then you have clearly never heard the best live album EVER recorded….”Chuck Mangione Live at the Hollywood Bowl” recorded in July 1978.

The concert starts while the audience is still mumbling and chatting about who knows what. The man in the hat himself walks on stage alone and simply starts playing with no introduction. Seven simple notes start things off…B C D…..A G F# G. The familiar opening notes to “Feels So Good” start off 101 minutes of musical gold. This introduction brings about the entrance of his quartet, James Bradley, Jr. on drums, Charles Meeks on bass, Grant Geissman on guitars, and Chris Vadala on everything (everything meaning soprano, alto, tenor and baritone saxes, flute (C and alto), and any other woodwind instrument littering the stage). This quartet with CM as the front man was already famous and the audience would have likely been pleased with this arrangement. But no, this is the Hollywood Bowl we are talking about hear so we need more musicians. A basic big band backs up the quartet and a full freaking orchestra backs up everybody.

Reading the liner notes you are quick to discover that this entire evening of music was pulled off without very little rehearsal time. One song, “Children of Sanchez” was first played by the musicians LIVE during the concert. Talk about walking a technical in fact. As you listen to this album, and yes, you should by all means listen to this album, you will get the sense that the entire concert was a tightrope that came off at a spectacular level. Virtuosity does not even begin to describe what was happening on that stage that hot July evening. Each and every musician was locked in as if they were on rails. Absolute musical perfection.

Listen to the album straight through without stopping and then tell me in all honesty if you can honestly describe the music of Chuck Mangione as “soft” or as “elevator music” ever again without embarrassing yourself and your children.

Sunday night will eventually bring Monday morning which is when the madness begins. Random people acting surprised that Monday morning has once again come around and slapped them directly in the face. You know what? Shut the fuck up about Monday morning blues, having a case of the Monday’s, looking like a sad lost puppy because you survived another week. Did you think Monday was just going to somehow disappear and you would go to bed on Sunday night and wake up Wednesday afternoon? Seriously, why must people insist on acting like such dumb asses? I know, I bet their horoscope said something sassy about having a better start to their week and they interpreted this as “no Monday yippee” or something equally as stupid and mindless.

The alternative to Monday morning is basically being dead. That’s the only way sweet Monday isn’t going to roll around once again. It’s not enough that it is a beautiful morning and you are still alive. Nope…let’s put on the sad fucking face as you carry your 20oz latte to your car that is less than 5 years old to drive 6 minutes to your place of employment or wherever it is you may be going. If you hate Monday mornings that much, keep it to yourself and don’t drag other people down because you can’t freaking handle the concept of a basic weekday.

These same people who make such a production about a Monday morning are likely not general haters of the actual day but miserable in their job or life in general. If they were retired or didn’t have to work for some other reason, I bet a Monday morning would be abso-fucking-lutely fantastic. Beautiful day, snarky comments, no hurry to be anywhere and certainly not grasping desperately for the arrival of Friday.

So, before you ask someone “do you have a case of the Monday’s?” while making a frown sad face, think twice about your situation and how much the person in front of you truly wants to flick your nose for constantly acting like a dumbass. Embrace your Monday, make it a good day, because you aren’t dead. A true bonus in life.

I am very fortunate to have recently been given the opportunity to write about music. A new online publication called Art and Sol is where my weekly column appears like magic. The focus of the column is an exploration of classical music, chamber music, and opera. The eighth column was just submitted today, and up to this point they have all been written using information already crammed somewhere in my head. It will be interesting to see how long this trend can sustain itself.

The blank page is something I truly love. A canvas waiting to be filled with words and ideas. Each of the eight columns have been written by hand with a fountain pen. This seems to add to the creative process. Once the handwritten version is done, the typing of the final copy is merely a detail. From nothing to something is always exciting and I look forward each week to forming an idea and scribbling it down in black ink. A simple pleasure without a doubt.

Basements are made for gaming of all different kinds. Video games, pinball machines, game design and discussion, and of course Dungeons & Dragons. The house where I grew up had a full basement (with a bar!) and it was absolutely made for gaming.  A family room area with plenty of space for a full-size pinball machine, gaming table, console (huge) TV set, and space for storage. An ideal setup even if I did not realize it at the time.

Let’s start simple. The pinball machine. For the life of me I cannot remember the theme of the machine. I do know that it was yellow and it was loud and bright and it was completely amazing. Hours would be spent mastering the ins and outs of this particle machine and how to roll over the score. To do this, you had to score more than 999,999 points. This was done over and over again. This machine was played so much that it would get really warm and would have to be left alone to cool off. Once this needed to happen it was time to switch the focus of attention.

Video games. I was lucky enough to own the quintessential 1980’s console system. INTELLIVISION. 28 cartridge games, instruction manuals that game with plastic controller overlays, and a voice synthesized module add on called INTELLIVOICE. Game after game, hour after hour. The game highlights were ASTROSMASH, NFL Football, and B-17 Bomber. The other games were given a lot of attention, but it was these three in particular that were the bookends to most gaming sessions. Amazing graphics for 1982. I still have my original system and all 28 games. I have currently misplaced the instructions manuals. This is actually a topic for another blog. Tired of the electronic wonders of pinball and video games? No problem.

Dungeons and Dragons. We are talking old school gaming. 2nd edition, hardback manuals, handwritten character sheets, and campaign maps/dungeons/lairs drawn on actual graph paper with pencils. If you are now rolling your eyes at the mention of Dungeons and Dragons I dare you to spend 5 minutes with the game instructions before your eyes start to cross and you become massively confused. This was not gaming for the faint of heart or those that do not like to think. Intelligence +17 is all I have to say on that note. Massive fun, massive storytelling, and an obsession that is with me to this very second.

Game design and discussion. Playing the wonders of INTELLIVISION got me thinking about designing my own game. I can still remember sitting at the round orange felt covered gaming table and designing the storyline, drawing the graphics, and writing an instruction manual for a space epic that was never named. Hours I’m telling you. Hours spent inside my head and in discussion with a friend about how we could make our own game and make enough money so that we never had to leave the basement.

So I mentioned a friend. See above. My go to friend for all of the above was Bill Pleau. A year older, much brighter, and full of insight and wisdom, Bill Pleau was an amazing friend for gaming and all things that were on the outskirts of what was considered normal. Bill Pleau, yep, I keep mentioning his name, was a Renaissance child. Tuba player, math whiz, black belt in Tae Kwon-Do, gamer extraordinaire, Ozzy Osbourne junky and a Rush devotee. He was a fascinating friend. Bill Pleau is now in Oregon living the dream and has two kids and a great wife. I was fortunate enough to go to his wedding a ways back and it was just like old times. I will never forget our time gaming and geeking out in the gaming basement.

1970’s Saturday morning cartoons. A memory that will stick with someone in their 40’s for a very long time. I had a routine. A serious routine without a doubt. It all started with my mom having laid out a few breakfast items and a tray the night before. It was my responsibility to assemble the items without instigating a catastrophe. This all happened about 645am. The action on the TV started at 7am. This was the 1970’s, starting about 1973 or 1974. Three channels to choose from on a TV that required the twitching of a dial to change the channel and adjust the volume. The set fired up with a single small light in the center of the screen that expanded from that point to a full picture.

ABC, NBC, and CBS. The three big choices. Great choices on all channels and a kid had to map things out the night before in order to watch the choice shows at the right time. There were three hours to work with, 7am-10am, time and scheduling mattered. The grand pooh-bah of all shows was Laugh Olympics. This was where the stars from the 3 networks competed against each other. I don’t remember the exact names, but the bad guys of the events/show were the Dirty Rotten Rottens. Always cheating, always mean, always devious. On the other teams there were various characters of all shapes and sizes, the most favorite being Grape Ape. He was on the air around 1975-77 or 78. A fine beast on all levels.

The favorite of non-animated shows was Land of the Lost. Marshall, Will, and Holly on a routine expedition. Living in a cave, wearing the same clothes show after show, dinosaurs, mysterious portals, and of course the mighty Sleestaks. When your age is in the single digits this was the height of excitement. Recently, a few episodes were found and watched. They were absolutely awful. Painful to watch with no redeeming qualities. Some things are best left in childhood memories.

With all of the available TV channels, these shows are very hard if not impossible to find in reruns. You would think that the Cartoon Network would have some offerings but no, unrecognizable crap seems to be what they offer. Where is the nostalgia? Where are the times of simple and straightforward cartoons. Even the original Scooby-Doo (1969-1974?) is very difficult to find. Disappointing and discouraging. Priorities people.

Sitting in the middle of the living room floor on the blue shag carpet. Drapes still drawn so that it was dark and so that the TV picture could be seen clearly. A tray of juice and an oversized bowl of Honeycombs cereal. The hall door closed so as to not wake the parental units. Changing the channel, TV guide in hand, and the anticipation of animated marvels every week.