Bowler Hat BLOG

I miss her so much...

2012-02-02T12:23:00.000-08:00

2011-11-08T22:29:00.000-08:00

Facebook is the Ultimate Human Centipede... - Max

"Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness" Premieres!

2011-11-08T08:11:00.000-08:00

Hey, kids! Just a reminder that the DreamWorks/Nickelodeon animated series "Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness" has finally premiered on the Nick network. Check your local listings. I play Master Mantis and other various characters throughout the series. Check out this kickass Variety review. Cheers! - Max

Max Hits SCREAMFEST 2011 (Days Six, Seven & Eight)

2011-10-22T17:08:00.000-07:00

Wednesday night, Brett Pearsons joined me again and we took in "Livid", a French import that was knowing enough to include an actual "Halloween III: Season of the Witch"/Silver Shamrock reference.

Over the years, I've grown more and more appreciative of foreign horror. During Happy Hour at BoHo before the show, however... Brett and I were comparing Sweden's "Let the Right One In" to America's "Let Me In". Brett is ALL about the Swede-y original. But in this rare instance, I went with my preference being the U.S. version ONLY because I so identified with it on a deep, personal and emotional level. While my mother wasn't a passed-out drunk on the couch, she was a nurse who was hardly ever home until later in the evenings. She was also going through a painful divorce from my first step-dad. So I was one of those "latch key kids" we used to hear about back in the old days. I literally wore a key on a chain around my neck and would come home to an empty, cruddy apartment, watch T.V., NOT do homework, and forage the freezer for Swanson frozen dinners. I also had a female friend named Dorothy. While she wasn't a barefoot-in-the-snow girl vampire, she was my world for a pretty sweet stretch of my pre-pube life. We'd spend SO much of our free time together and at night we would knock on each other's bedroom wall that we shared. We had secret codes and everything (tap-tap-tap-tappa-tap... "Go. To. The. Win. Dow."). I also carried around NowandLaters in my pocket (grape and green apple, mostly) and was severely bullied. Until the day I stood up for myself, that is, and busted my bully's nose hardcore with my virgin fist. I will NEVER forget seeing REAL BLOOD gush out of an orifice like that for the first time.

Yeah, Brett and dug deep into all kinds of revelations about our respective childhoods. It's always good when you can STILL get to know a close friend you've known since the mid-nineties.

"LIVID" REVIEW

There was a fairly early-on tech glitch involving the subtitles during the showing of "Livid" so we missed a few hearty bits of dialogue. Whether or not the words were prevalent, I never want to miss a syllable during the first 20 minutes of any film I'm trying to lock into.

I enjoyed "Livid" enough. I thought the pacing was very slow (even turgid at turns), but I quite appreciated the idea of a young woman looking to be a caretaker entering the dark world of a dying old dance teacher... lying alone and comatose in a seemingly haunted house. The young woman wants to do the right thing. But soon a potential financial opportunity arises and, with the all the wrong help from her cajoling sailor boyfriend, she soon learns a very hard lesson about taking what doesn't belong to her. I'll get more into this notion someday, but one thing I really love about horror movies is that they're actually one of the most morally ethical of of the cinematic genres.

"Livid" features an ambiguous take on vampirism that lost me, but I think what I most appreciated were the visuals and the score. The ancient lady in the bed with the black hose and oxygen mask freaked me out. How long had she been sleeping in that white cotton nightgown?? (shudder...)

Thursday night, I brought along muh main man Josh Bloomberg aka Joshua Path and I was very excited because Josh appreciates scary cinema almost as much as I do. He's also fiercely funny and bright, which sometimes makes for a difficult film-going experience if we find each other to NOT be on the same page about a film WHILE we're taking it in. Because he was ready to walk out of "Enter Nowhere" after the first 20 minutes!! But I was, like, "dude... we GOTTA see this through. It's Screamfest". And so we did. Josh is a FAR harsher critic than I am. But I am ALWAYS paying attention to his brain and his take on things.

"ENTER NOWHERE" REVIEW

"Enter Nowhere" feels like a Sci-Fi channel TV movie you'd happen across at three in the morning. As much as I would HARDLY consider this to be a true horror picture by any stretch of the imagination, I was nonetheless intrigued by it's actors and ideas. Especially the two female leads, Sara Paxton and Katherine Waterston. Also, the supporting cast of blackened dead trees, underground bunkers, empty stretches of woodland road... and the cabin itself where most of the action takes place... are all deserving of a sitting ovation. If you woke up in a strange cabin with perfect strangers and limited resources, you can ride such a suspenseful happening for a good long while. Thankfully, the writers threw in some real twists and turns that kept mine (and eventually Josh's) interests. But we just needed so much more. You're talking about two dudes who sat through Lars Von Trier's "Anti-Christ" together and almost lost their minds for good.

Chaos reigns.

Oh. I should probably mention that after the show Thursday night, Josh went out into the Screamfest lobby graveyard, laid himself down, and LEFT his mortal coil. I thought that was very impressive and spontaneous of him...

Last night (Friday) was a real joy because my very dear gal pal Kari Wahlgren threw me a bone and joined me for a night of horror shorts and the feature "Some Guy Who Kills People" which I wound up digging as much as I did "Crawl" as far as favoring Screamfest entries goes.

She even wore her skull sweater she picked up at Dark Delicacies!

Kari and I have become very close since working together on Nickelodeon's "Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness". She voices Tigress on the show (and countless other roles) and has been insanely kind and loyal and supportive of the Max/Mantis. I had no idea friendships like these could still be possible at age 41, especially considering what polar opposites we are. But we have a blast. AND she likes movies.

Alright, enough of the sappy shit, let's get down to brass tacs. Kari doesn't really do horror, but she was way-compelled by the short film collection and game to check it out. I was less riveted by the shorts than she was. But I most certainly was grateful for her gasps and her sighs and her feeble attempts to cover her eyes. I also learned that she's not into Red Vines (AT ALL) and she kept declining them no matter how many times I'd try to shove one in her mitt. Malcolm McDowell actually shows up in something called "No Rest for the Wicked" (along with Ray Park and Kane Hodder) and I got very excited. But then he was sufficiently upstaged by a monkey. And so it goes.

I would have to say my favorite of the shorts was a Mexican-made ditty entitled "Y VOLVERÉ". Hell-bent on revenge stories ALWAYS get me goin'. Especially when they're as concisely packaged as this one was. But when you throw in a dead, deformed fetus and a staple remover, well, come on! NOW we're talkin' Screamfest!

Kari and I had split a Margherita pizza and some red sangria for dinner and I don't know if I was just still really hungry or if the richness of the cheese was wreaking havoc on my system but my caves were HOWLIN'!!! It was SO embarrassing, too, because when you try to stifle catastrophically loud intestinal sounds (when sitting in the dark with a beautiful woman, no less), it can be the worst moment of your life! But it's Kari and we're buds and we can joke about that stuff and she's a VERY polite person and would NEVER call me out on my human-ness but I know DAMN well that woman was ON to my abdominal anguish...

"SOME GUY WHO KILLS PEOPLE" REVIEW

"Some Guy Who Kills People" was a riot with a lot of heart. Again, mixing comedy and horror to me is like dropping a big ol' salty-ass olive in a sour apple martini (as it is, I DESPISE olives), but this seriously felt like a solid black comedy/character study. I mean, the actors in this film were totally sensational. You got all these indie-familiar, home-run hitters like Kevin Corrigan, Karen Black, Leo Fitzpatrick, and BARRY BOSTWICK, who is so funny and so intensely odd in this film that he almost needs to be nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Screamfest Skully. Oh, this is Skully, by the way. He certainly has a way with the blond-haired, blue-eyed pixies...

The serial killer gags are solid, the explosions of violence felt real, and the filmmakers did a superb job of creating small town creepiness in sort of the same way Terry Zwigoff did with "Ghost World", just with a lot less money. I think I would have to declare this one to be my favorite of all the films I saw this year at Screamfest.

I came to the conclusion this afternoon that last night was so perfect, I wanted to END my Screamfest experience on a high note. Sure, there were more films today to close the fest and I REALLY wanted to get to Ti West's "The Innkeepers" which I hope hits the ol' VOD soon. But until then, I'm gonna instead take it easy now... bust open a bottle of wine, hit the couch, and hang with my wife and pug who I haven't seen in eight murder-filled nights.

Whether or not I hit Screamfest again next year remains to be seen. I just know I had a HELLUVA lot more fun sharing the experience with great friends than I did all alone with a backpack full of paper, pens, green apple slices and Triscuits. Oh, and I'd really like to thank Jessica for being so cool to me and making me feel at home. She rocked this KICKASS Jason Voorhees belt buckle!

Happy Halloween! And thanks so much for reading...

Max Koch Hits SCREAMFEST 2011 (Days Four and Five)

2011-10-19T16:48:00.000-07:00

I was very excited about this past Monday night at Screamfest because I knew my dear ol' buddy Brett Pearsons would be joining me. I knew the fest would inspire him like it did me. Of the 2 or 3 peeps in my life who truly appreciate the genre of horror, Brett is my number one go-to goon. We actually wrote a very dark, creepy, semi-comical screenplay together that we plan to re-visit soon and staged a few horror plays together back in the ol' days. Trying to scare people via live theatre ain't easy, but we felt at the time we sincerely freaked some fine folks the fuck out.

Brett and I are ALWAYS watching horror films together. It's our pastime. We view, we pause (if they're not holding our interest), we dissect, we poke fun, we drink, we resume. We like to know what works and what doesn't (for us) and sometimes we perhaps even see ourselves on the Screamfest black carpet one day. Or, at the very least, scary movie-making posers...

Two idiots with big dark dreams.

"Ideas are the best things going around...". - David Lynch

Brett's horror tastes veer more towards the supernatural. I love the supernatural... but I also love murderous mutant hillbillies. Brett ALWAYS makes fun of me for this.

BRETT: What's with you and the hillbillies?

ME: I love 'em! Are you kidding me? Take "Deliverance". "Deliverance" is a HORROR film. It's not an ACTION movie. The rape of Ned Beatty alone is one of the most harrowing, most disturbing scenes ever filmed. What goes ON in those Appalachian Mountains???

BRETT: Hillbillies! Hillbillies go on!

ME: No, man. You don't get it. Hillbillies represent the worst of us. The purest, most primal, most unhinged aspects of ourselves. Not to mention the antlers... the roadkill... the rotting barns! Then you get into the genetics. The inbreeding. What's creepier than a baby born who's parents are siblings?! I wanna see that baby grow up to become the next great boogeyman.

BRETT: You mean boogeyhillbilly?

ME: Shut up.

These are seriously the kinds of conversations I have with Brett. We have a ball and I was especially encouraging him to join me for a monster hillbilly double-bill at Screamfest. Namely, "Wrong Turn 4: Bloody Beginnings" and "Madison County". Brett is a supremely gifted actor and musician, too. He scored the spooky short film The Counselor and I did called "End Times Angel". Brett also had a cameo in that short as The Wounded Man. If there's blood, there is Brett. Period.

Where does all the poo go??

Brett and I were amazed at the Screamfest turnout Monday night. It was CRAMMED with 20th Century Fox execs (for "Wrong Turn 4"), glamor pusses, and darkly-dressed derelicts. After a while, the crowd got a bit on top of us. Thank goodness we had Brett's coffin flask, popcorn, and our own internal instincts to survive.

Even THIS guy was there. Sunglasses Guy. He wore his dark sunglasses IN the darkened theatre. Oh, Sunglasses Guy...

"WRONG TURN 4: BLOODY BEGINNINGS" REVIEW

I've seen enough of these doggone addictin' "Wrong Turn" movies to know exactly what to expect. Mutant inbred hillbillies, geographically-challenged explorers, and UTTERLY PREPOSTEROUS KILLS!!! "Wrong Turn 2: Dead End" will always be my favorite, mainly because it starred the great Henry Rollins as Retired military commander Colonel Dale Murphy. Plus it was directed by Joe Lynch, who I'm always keeping my eye on. Unfortunately, I missed Lynch's "Chillerama" last Saturday night at Screamfest because I chose instead to go home and enjoy some wine with the wife. But I will absolutely be catching it on DVD.

"Wrong Turn 4: Bloody Beginnings", which takes place in an abandoned asylum atop some snowy mountain, is SO tongue-in-cheek outrageous that I'm convinced it was instead an actual satire of "Wrong Turn" movies. The college kid victims here are SO vapid, SO obscenely attractive, SO jaw-droppingly incompetent in their decision-making that you find yourself laughing much more than you do screaming. That's not to say there wasn't screaming going on in the theater. In fact, EACH and EVERY time a hot face appeared on the screen, fellow cast members in the audience would shriek and giggle and chortle and bust balls. Loudly. That got old after a while, but soon the ultra-violence kicked in, and watching "Wrong Turn 4" with a packed audience turned into a real party, which I'm sure granted the studio execs MAJOR hard-ons. But as someone who had nothing to do with the production, I felt a little left out. Glad the kids and their middle-aged director/writer all had fun, though. And I do have to say, the last death scene of the film is one seriously triumphant moment in cinematic Grand Guignol. You have to see it to believe it!

"MADISON COUNTY" REVIEW (SORTA)

I'm not even going to go into this one much other than to say that I felt royally let down by it, considering it was the film I was looking forward to most in the fest. That honor now goes to Ti West's "The Innkeepers", which closes the competition on Saturday night. I had NO idea Ti West had a film in Screamfest until my wife pointed it out to me just last night. If you've never seen West's incomprehensibly unsettling "The House of the Devil", don't even talk to me. Well, you can talk to me. But only after you've seen "The House of the Devil". It's truly my favorite horror film of the last five years. Dee Wallace (Stone), as I mentioned earlier, has a KICKASS cameo.

"Madison County" (which was the first SOLD OUT show of the Screamfest series) had me at the initial premise of a hillbilly who kills people wearing a pig head (a la Farmer Vincent from "Motel Hell"). From the trailer, it looked as if I was getting what could be the next "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre". What I got instead was a very flat, uninspired, uneventful series of happenings in some small town in Arkansas. Not to mention, every time someone had to take a pee in the movie, they either announced that they were about to take a pee or another person would ask if the person about to take the pee would enjoy some company while they peed. What?? It was SO ponderous. Bewildering, even. I got confused by the plot. And what the pig head dude's deal was. SCARE ME, "MADISON COUNTY"!!! FREAK MY SHIT OUT!!! MAKE ME CURL UP IN A FETAL BALL, BEGGING FOR MERCY!!!

(Silence)
Nothin'.

About the best I can say is that I found the young cast of college kids to be some very unique and gifted actors. It's just too bad they weren't given much to do here. It's a shame because the director seemed cool enough, too. I'm sure he worked very hard (everyone with a creative entry here at the fest has)... but I REALLY wanted to love this movie. Well, listen, perhaps others will. In fact, I hope they do. To each their own. I'd be curious to hear what they think.

Listen, lemme just declare that, from what I've observed, no one walking around with a submission in Screamfest appears to be a hack. But I have to believe certain writers and directors who's films I've now witnessed just might be capable of better work. Honestly, I've been mostly impressed by all the solid acting performances I've enjoyed in the films.

Okay, so last night (Tuesday), I brought my longtime friend and totally recognizable character actor Andy Rothenberg with me and we checked out a particularly flamboyant vampire comedy called "Vampirifica". Andy, as many of you know, portrayed Malcolm the vampire on "True Blood" and Jim in "The Walking Dead". So you can imagine that bringing him to Screamfest, still looking a LOT like Jim this days, was an air-tight idea of intrigue.

Please scare us. We're BEGGING you.

"VAMPIRIFICA" REVIEW

Scare-wise, "Vampirifica" feels less like "Open Water" and more like late 90's John Waters. "Pecker" with fangs. If John Waters directed "Powder". "Cecil B. DeVampire", if you will. It's camp with some decent creeps thrown in and it features what could potentially be a cult star-making performance by Martin Yurkovic, who also wrote the story. Bruce Orstein scribed the screenplay and directs.

Carmen (Yurkovic) is a little bald twink who hangs around with his childhood friend, Tracey (the excellent Dreama Walker). He's really snotty, kind of a dick, and can't seem to cut it as an actor in community theatre plays. It was hard to feel any sympathy for Carmen at first. But once the kid gets in over his head vampirifically, you sorta/kinda start to root for him. I always wonder, if suddenly I came into possession of great supernatural powers, if I wouldn't teach those who wronged me in the past a lesson or four. So I sorta got off on the revenge aspects of the story. What confounded me was the liberties the filmmakers took with vampire lore. At one point a vamp gets a wooden stake in what looked to be the stomach area and not the heart, killing it instantly in the "True Blood" exploding way. There's other examples I won't go into, but let's just say that the reason the vamps are so pasty and pale is because they wear so much sunscreen while they walk... around... in the sun? Curious.

Listen, whaddo I know? Have at the lore, if that's your bag. I'm just relieved I was able to sit through the whole thing and relatively enjoy myself. The Red Vines helped.

It was so funny, because I saw a LOT of people batting an eye towards Andy. Well why wouldn't they?? He's only been closely-associated with two of the most iconic, successful, horror-themed television shows in history. Even as subdued and bearded and b-ball-capped as he appeared last night, Andy's innate charisma succeeded winning him some lookee-loos. Albeit, ones who's eyes you may not welcome to feast upon you.

It was so funny. Anyone who played a creep or a killer or a psycho or a demon or a vampire or WHATEVER at Screamfest would walk around mingling and networking and when I would see them in person, I'd actually be a little thrown-off. Even though they're merely actors inhabiting a role, that leftover dark mystique was most prevalent when it came to their auras...

MORE TOMORROW!

Max Koch Hits SCREAMFEST 2011 (Day Three)

2011-10-17T15:22:00.000-07:00

By Sunday, I was already a little burnt out. Not by Screamfest so much as life itself. I know. To some, my life sounds like some kinda damn vacation all the time... but Papa needs a REAL vacation. I'm tellin' you. I might be a workaholic. I rarely EVER turn off. All I ask is ONE week of doing absolutely NOTHING. But I know that will NEVER happen because the minute I start "doing nothing", say, on a tropical beach somewhere, I'll start to get an idea that I wanna film a dumb bit in the sand or something and the next thing you know, it's a production. "Gary Busey Builds a Sand Castle" or some similarly preposterous concept. Then I'll kick myself in the face for forgetting to bring my Gary wig. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY WIGS I'VE PACKED FOR A SO-CALLED VACATION??? Don't ask.

I spend each and every day expending some degree of great energy and the older I get, the more walls I hit. I just hit one just now! All I was doing was putting away some stupid groceries and I got really, really, really sleepy. It didn't help that I was in the dentist's chair for ninety minutes this morning. Going to the dentist can be very stressful for me! Stress takes it's toll, man! And so all I wanted to do was lie down. But there's always so much SHIT to be done around here that-- oh, why am I complaining? Who gives a crap about my exhaustion woes? This is a blog entry about Day Three of Screamfest. Just know I hit the couch for 13 minutes... and now I'm sitting up right with a freezing cold iced tea-and-lemon typing. See? Energy.

There were FOUR films on the schedule for Sunday but I only caught one. Well, first of all, last night was the season two premiere of "The Walking Dead" and there was NO WAY I was about to forgo that. Not to mention, I'm going to be gone the next six nights and I miss my family tremendously. So I chose the first show of the day, which was a zombie film with a unique slant entitled "Exit Humanity". I was especially excited to catch this one because it co-starred the supremely-lovely Dee Wallace (Stone) and the great Bill Moseley. If you don't know Moseley, you don't know horror. Moseley was ChopTop in "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2" and Otis Firefly in Rob Zombie's "The Devil's Rejects" (in my estimation, one of the greatest 'rampaging murderer' performances ever captured on film).


Manson-as-all-hell.

"EXIT HUMANITY" REVIEW

This is a prime example of how an inappropriate, over-bearing score can disable a film's power. A post-Civil War era-set zombie thriller, "Exit Humanity" (a title I adore) tells the story of a man who suffers extraordinary loss only to be challenged evermore by a coupla mean-ass rebels and, oh, yeah, hoards of undead "daywalkers". The score is SO severe that the drama of the first act swiftly shifts to melodrama and, a little sadly, the proceeds almost veer towards unintentionally comical. I just wish bombastic music didn't have to overwhelm (and occasionally suffocate) nearly EVERY scene. Because the actors here are working very hard to tell the tale as credibly as they humanly can. Playing screams of emotional agony against dead silence can be profoundly chilling. And even though the director told us when he introduced the film that the cast and Canadian crew had to work with a micro-budget, I thought the thing LOOKED great. The zombie make-ups were very effective. But the film is too long and at times too plodding and plot-less to care enough about the fates of our hero or anyone else for that matter.

In lieu of little money to work with, the director employs the device of some fairly crude animated segments that I thought were actually pretty kickass. It lent itself to a sort of "moving graphic novel" feel. I mean, this thing coulda been "The Road" of Civil War zombie movies if it wanted to (there is a father/son relationship depicted near it's heart's core). Brian Cox gives good narration.

Dee Wallace (Stone) is amazing as always and so the highlight of my day was meeting her. I was SO nervous to trouble her for a snapshot. But she totally chatted me up! I have been a mad admirer of Wallace since I wished she was my mommy after the first time I saw "E.T.: The Extra Terrestrial". Lest we not forget her stellar work in "Cujo", "The Howling", "Rob Zombie's Halloween" and my personal favorite, Ti West's "The House of the Devil".

Yeah. Ms. Wallace could NOT have been sweeter to me (and sexy and funny as hell... GREAT laugh). And her instructions for this photo were simple: "Make sure you Facebook the CRAP outta this, Max". Whatever you say, baby...

So now I'm really excited for tonight (Monday) because my buddy Brett Pearsons will be joining me for a psycho hillbilly double-bill, "Wrong Turn 4" and "Madison County". Naturally, we'll be hitting a Happy Hour first. BRING IT!

I am enjoying Screamfest.

Max Koch Hits SCREAMFEST 2011 (Day Two)

2011-10-16T10:59:00.000-07:00

Day Two of Screamfest was a little more surreal than Day One and the weirdness hardly even involved the two films I saw!

So I arrived a little early for a screening of the Aussie import "Crawl" and my badge STILL wasn't ready, so - once again feeling dejected - I fled upstairs for a glass of bubbly and an umpteenth perusal of the program...

"CRAWL" REVIEW

"Crawl", written and directed by Paul China, is "No Country for Old Men" on crank. Moody, intense, utterly suspenseful and gorgeously shot, this film is a prime example of how, with the right script and game actors, SO much can be done with so little. China himself admitted before the show that the film was influenced (I'd say heavily) by the likes of the Coen Brothers and Roman Polanksi. And you most certainly feel their presence in these frames. But China and company have a VERY clear understanding of the thriller they are making here. This is confident genre film-making.

I got so into "Crawl". The score is spine-tingling and it's FULL of astonishing character faces. Namely, Paul Holmes as Slim Walding and George Shevstov as "The Stranger", the Croatian demon cousin to Bardem's Anton Chigurh. Shevstov's face and delivery is so weird and magnificent that at one point (I swear) he morphs into Roger Waters with an ax. The hot blondie lead ain't half bad herself. This is far and away the best Screamfest entry I've seen yet (wait, it's only the 2nd one).

I love the Aussies. "Wolf Creek"? Forget it. ADORE "Wolf Creek".

After "Crawl", I wanted to actually go up and congratulate the filmmakers. I suck at "networking" and there are always a lot of sycophantic slimeys about, so I just said "fuck it" and shot them a wave they failed to notice. Sometimes I just don't work well in these types of situations. I mean, even though I have my OWN degree of (somewhat) creative success happening, I always wind up feeling like some useless, obsolete dumbass!!

After "Crawl", I headed upstairs to BoHo for lunch/Happy Hour. The house salad and fish tacos and RED SANGRIA were divine. And cheap! Jeremy the bartender was a badass and I met a totally funky/cool chick named Lea who was also sitting at the bar. She told me she had acted in a few horror films herself (topless!) and we talked shop about cinematic scares. Then my friend Andy Rothenberg's lovely lady-friend who works at BoHo appeared, followed (eventually) by Andy HIMSELF who dropped everything and ran over from his home in Hollywood to join me for a drink! How perfect that Malcolm the vampire from "True Blood" and Jim from "The Walking Dead" was hookin' up with his ol' bud Max at a Happy Hour above Screamfest. He's even decided to join me this week for a screening or two. Andy's cameo in my day made my day. A mustachioed buddy of his at BoHo even made us some exclusive, homemade gourmet pizza (delicious)! Now THIS is what I meant earlier about surreal...

Back down at Screamfest proper, I was finally presented with my badge! I was so happy. THRILLED even. Then I noticed that the photo of me that I'd sent them for the badge hadn't appeared. NO matter. They spelled my NAME right. I had received satisfaction.

"THE TUNNEL" REVIEW

The next film I saw was "The Tunnel". Look, I'll be honest. It's really not easy to bash these films because these people are out there DOING IT. They have ALL my respect. They're making full-length feature films with respectable budgets and showcasing them properly in important events like Screamfest. That said, I'm afraid I was not moved by "The Tunnel". It was "The Blair [Rec] Project" to me. But something tells me the film will do JUST fine without my opinion. And whatever the hell is dwelling beneath the city streets in the tunnels of "The Tunnel" is indisputably unsettling.

I did manage to meet (and dare I admit, "network" with) a very kind couple who were in the midst of making their own horror film entitled "Fear Lives Here" that I hope to see at the fest NEXT YEAR.

Yeah. It may be too soon to say... but I think I might be back. We'll see.

MORE TOMORROW...

Max Koch Hits SCREAMFEST 2011 (Day One)

2011-10-15T10:54:00.000-07:00

This year marks the very first time I have ever attend a Screamfest Horror Film Festival. I don't do film festivals (never have), but this is horror and I love horror, so I thought, "fuck it! Let's frighten the poop out of my ass for 10 straight days and blog about it". It helped that my wife encouraged me to "treat it like a job" and so I guess I will try to. Truth is, I don't get that scared anymore watching horror films (F/X's "American Horror Story", however, is gloriously freaking me the FUCK out!!!)... but do I see almost EVERYTHING that's out there, if I can. Streaming Netflix is rad!

So last night (Friday, Oct. 14th) I arrived 90 minutes early for the opening eve's festivities. The fest is held at the Mann's Chinese Theatre in Hollywood and traffic is ALWAYS a nightmare down there. SO many people... SO many cars... SO many tourists... not enough bars. But I managed to get a decent parking space and now I know where the hell I'm going and so I'm not EVEN sweating today. There are FOUR feature films on the schedule for this afternoon and evening (including a restoration print of "Psycho"). Not sure if I have the true grit for that much sitting in the dark, watching people die but I'll try. I have a backpack full of pens, paper, water,Triscuits, jerky, sliced apples, and a book. My wife joked this morning that she feels like she's sending me off to "horror camp" with my backpack and my glee.

This dude kept grinning ghoulishly at me all night.

So I had been dealing with a very sweet woman via e-mail named Rachel who is the founder of the fest. I wanted to make sure to pick up my "access to all screenings" badge, but, of course, she couldn't find it. Everyone ELSE had THEIR badges, but mine apparently had gone missing. So hopefully today I will be getting MY badge. I WANT MY SCREAMFEST BADGE!!!!

The lack of badge-age instantly depressed me, so I went upstairs to The Grill for a glass of Sauvignon Blanc. The bar was empty and it took almost seven minutes for anyone to even acknowledge my presence. I slugged the tangy white and made my way back down to the fest where some kind of "black carpet" premiere event was happening. There was a hot chick with a port wine stain on her face but I didn't recognize any of the more "pretty-faced" people standing before the flashing lights... nor could I comprehend who the media outlets in attendance were. I mean, is Girls and Corpses magazine still even in publication?

Who are these people?

One thing I did appreciate is that they (sorta) dressed up the Mann's Chinese "annex" with spooky scenes here and there. Although signs reading "pardon our dust" (suggesting a renovation was in action) struck me as ominous, considering there was a sincere white haze in the air and not a fog machine in sight! M-makeshift asbestos fog???

Inside the theatre, there were lots of little wannabe Quentin Tarantinos and Eli Roths running around (don't they make little Tod Brownings anymore?). And LOTS of jibber-jabber about horror flicks they'd ingested over their smug time... which ones they dug and didn't. But there were also a lot of big-breasted bimbos in attendance. Sub-par porn starlets hoping to go legit by getting gutted onscreen. There was also this piece-of-work who screamed out THIS at one point (actual quote):

"SECTOR 7" REVIEW

So the opening film of the fest was "Sector 7", a Korean monster movie in 3-D. I don't really care for giant monster movies. I mean, after "Alien" and "The Mist", how the hell are they gonna scare me with a big, slimy monster? I'm thinking "Sector 7" was an environmentally-conscious tribute to the "Alien" franchise, so as to avoid a "total rip-off" stigma.

I also don't think this 3-D thing is working out. "Avatar" and "Jackass 3" aside, it's done NOTHING for me personally. And here in "Sector 7", I will say the format is at least somewhat incorporated into the action. The problem is it looks as if the filmmakers spent the LEAST amount of money on the monster itself. It's really just a bunch of clanking rib cages sewn together with some red goo. It roared cool, though. But if the monster entirely lacks menace or fails to instill fear in the audience member, you're sort of just left with a "wait it out" situation, which is what I found myself in. As it was, it was a very long day for me (enjoyed an exhaustive but amazing recording session), and I found myself actually NODDING OFF during "Sector 7". But I did enjoy the Korean cast very much.

Last night I got some sleep and am READY for today! I'm off...

MORE TOMORROW...

Commencé au festival!

2011-10-14T14:42:00.000-07:00

My Screamfest 2011 adventure kicks off TONIGHT with a screening of "Sector 7". Check back here for the next TEN DAYS for updates.

Screamfest 2011

2011-09-30T08:33:00.000-07:00

Happy Friday! So I'm very excited. I bought a big ol' fat pass to Screamfest 2011 (10 day horror film festival). Never done anything like this. I'm gonna treat it like a job. I'm gonna write reviews and draw pictures of horror fans and blog directly from the frontlines. This all goes down Oct. 14th thru the 22nd. For those of you who care, keep checking in to this very blog during those dates. (Silence) Yup. Fear. And. Loathing. - Max

Two Things

2011-09-19T07:18:00.000-07:00

ONE: The official Bowler Hat Productions website has been taken down. Look for an updated site sometime soon.

TWO: My friend and fellow cast-mate James Sie plugs the show with his usual wit and grace...

Max as Master Mantis!

2011-09-16T12:29:00.000-07:00

Hey, kids! Here's a DVR alert for ya. According to the Nickelodeon website (and my own DirecTV schedule), a SPECIAL PREVIEW episode of "Kung Fu Panda: Legends of Awesomeness" airs this Monday night, 9/19 @ 8pm. Check your local listings. I play Master Mantis and other various characters throughout the series. I can PROMISE you, you will be wow'd by the quality of this kick-butt show. Cheers! And Happy Weekend... - Max

2011-09-11T14:50:00.000-07:00

2011-08-01T07:16:00.000-07:00

Blogged About

2011-06-03T16:38:00.001-07:00

I got blogged about by Brent MacLean. Honored. - Max

2011-03-18T10:30:00.000-07:00

2011-02-18T09:27:00.000-08:00

2011-01-03T12:38:00.000-08:00

2010-12-30T14:45:00.000-08:00

Merry, Merry...

2010-12-13T12:39:00.000-08:00

2010-12-06T12:39:00.000-08:00

Some Recent Stuff by Max

2010-12-05T09:10:00.000-08:00

2010-12-03T12:51:00.001-08:00

Facebook | Max Koch and MK's Mimosa

2010-08-30T14:26:00.000-07:00

Join the Max Koch/Mimosa/BowlerHat fan page on Facebook! Bonus videos and much more!

Facebook Max Koch and MK's Mimosa

Night Skelly

2010-08-30T14:13:00.000-07:00

QUESTION:

2010-07-26T10:26:00.000-07:00

Is anyone visiting this blog? - Max

Max Koch's HALLOWEEN HELLSHOW 2009 (NSFW)

2009-10-07T14:27:00.000-07:00

Max's Latest Commercial

2009-08-02T12:45:00.000-07:00

I'm in a new web-only commercial for Purity Organic that appears to be going viral. I SWEAR I'm not this fat! - Max

"End Times Angel" NOW on YouTube...

2009-06-24T19:09:00.000-07:00

"End Times Angel"
a post-apocalyptic, semi-love story with horror elements
from Bowler Hat Productions

is NOW on YouTube.

Watch alone in the DARK.

HERE

Many thanks,

Max & The Counselor

Coming this Sunday...

2009-06-09T14:14:00.001-07:00

The End Times...

2009-06-06T13:46:00.000-07:00

are HERE.

11.5 Questions with Max Koch by Cutter Garcia

2009-05-19T11:51:00.000-07:00

READ

The "Meet Max Koch?" OUTTAKE REEL

2009-04-16T13:56:00.000-07:00

Meet Max Koch?

2009-04-10T06:16:00.000-07:00

2009-04-07T08:09:00.000-07:00

"Gramps: Beneath The Surface" DVD Review by Joe Dungan

2009-03-04T09:05:00.000-08:00

Good documentary? You better Hong Kong believe it!

Growing up without a dad then with an abusive stepdad can drive any young man to any number of outlets. Fortunately for us, Max Koch chose creative ones, including filmmaking -- specifically, this documentary, Gramps: Beneath the Surface. In it, Koch ostensibly searches for some kind of paternal connection with his grandmother's second husband, Dick Surface, a hard-drinking retiree living in the desert outside L.A. Surface, a hybrid of Ralph Kramden and Archie Bunker with a dash of redneck, happily -- and fearlessly -- obliges Max's every question during a drunken weekend at Surface's house. In addition to revealing a few whoppers that Max never knew, Surface shows us to be a "dying breed" of tough guy, a Bukowski without the poems; a man who can brag about his days as a cock-hound (or is it "pussy-hound"?), laugh about near-death bar fights, yet tear up discussing his granddaughter, the only person in the family that nothing bad has happened to. (And his artistic analysis of his frog-and-golf-ball statuette is only priceless.)

Koch serves up one of his other creative talents: illustrating. His gothic renderings, Adam Sholder's effortless camerawork, and several evocative original songs by a number of artists are all standouts -- which, in the hands of Sholder's skillful editing, fill out what would have been little more than a patchwork of interview footage in the hands of less-skilled storytellers. But while Koch's deconstruction of his grandfather gives the film its depth, Koch is often quick to put the "fun" in "profundity." He detaches from his involvement in the subject matter often enough to engage his twisted, highly irreverent sense of humor without making a joke out of the journey. The commentary track removes him a further degree; he and Sholder, who complements Koch's dark wit with the ease only a longtime friend and colleague can possess, revel in machine-gun-fire wisecrackery from beginning to end. Future docu-portraits from these two -- particularly of famous figures -- would be most welcome.

Order your Deluxe DVD Edition of "Gramps: Beneath the Surface (Now With More Dick!)" HERE!

Jack Nicholson Week

2009-02-20T07:19:00.000-08:00

It was Jack Nicholson week on the ol' BHP YouTube channel. Please enjoy:

IN THE BOOTH with JACK NICHOLSON

Max Koch presents The Two JOKERS

NEWS: "Gramps" DVD is NOW AVAILABLE! All-New "Mimosa"!

2009-02-06T12:37:00.000-08:00

Dear Reluctant Viewers/Listeners,

Big doins in the world of BHP. For starters, "Gramps: Beneath the Surface" DVD is now ON SALE! Oh, boy, oh, boy.

Join Max and The Counselor as they head to the California Desert to spend the weekend with Max's Grandparents. What they get, however, goes far beneath the surface - in this case, Dick Surface, Max's step-granddad, who lets Max in on the personal paradox of his rambunctious youth and conservative philosophy. Women, sex, bar brawls, booze, Bush, and the American Way are just a few of the topics covered in this sometimes hysterical, sometimes tragic Docu-Portrait.

The Deluxe DVD Edition - Now With More Dick! features deleted scenes, Max Koch's original cartoon art gallery, and a commentary track featuring filmmakers Max Koch & The Counselor.

Check out the NEW "Gramps" DVD promo vid:

To purchase "Gramps", go HERE.

And for an ALL-NEW, ONE-HOUR episode of "Max Koch's Mimosa" (Show 82) where Max and The Counselor talk about the "Gramps" DVD, car accidents, back pain, chiropractors, to love or hate the New Years holiday, The Counselor's big romantic news and much, much more, go HERE.

Many thanks!

- Max & The Counselor

Max's SUPER BOWL Spot...

2009-02-02T22:10:00.000-08:00

I am the voice of the annoying flowers. Enjoy...

Happy New Year...

2008-12-31T10:18:00.000-08:00

Max profiled by Sean Cliver on JACKASSWORLD...

2008-12-20T13:43:00.000-08:00

dig it

2008-12-10T12:48:00.001-08:00

"Max Koch's CHRISTMAS CREEPSHOW 2008" (NSFW)

2008-12-10T08:54:00.001-08:00

Peace of Earth!

2008-12-02T08:47:00.001-08:00

An Important Message from LISA ARCH

2008-11-24T17:53:00.000-08:00

"Hi! I'm Lisa Arch, Max's right-hand woman, and I'm taking over the next two episodes of 'Max Koch's Mimosa'. I thought it was time that Max's friends, fans, and foes got to know the real Max Koch, so I'm going to ask him the tough questions. Sex? Covered. Religion? Taken care of. His marriage? I'll get the dirt on that, too. And it won't be pretty. So listen to 'Lisa Arch's Mimosa' to learn a little about the guy you want to know a lot about. There might even be some channeling... If you play your cards right."

Watch THIS.

Max Koch's "HALLOWEEN HELLSHOW" (NSFW)

2008-10-28T13:54:00.001-07:00

Alan Cook Blog

2008-10-14T08:57:00.000-07:00

I was very moved by this tribute from artist Alan Cook...

- Max

2008-09-28T09:46:00.001-07:00

"TONY SOPRANO meets THE JOKER" (NSFW)

2008-09-09T06:18:00.003-07:00

Well, it had to happen sooner or later...

Mac n' Hayes

2008-08-11T12:15:00.000-07:00

8/8/08... Boom? (by Max)

2008-08-08T08:48:00.001-07:00

I was born on August 8, 1970. Today is my birthday. Ssshhh. Don't tell anyone. I don't like to make a fuss. I prefer to celebrate others versus celebrating myself.

However, I did look up 8/8/08 on YouTube and found this. I laughed out loud. Mr. End Times Tommy ovva here. "8/8/08... Boom"? I HAD NO IDEA!!!

And? It would SO figure if anything actually does happen today...

Mrs. Kim. My Video Store Lady. (by Max)

2008-08-07T07:30:00.000-07:00

(CLICK PICS TO ENLARGE)

BLOG EDITOR'S NOTE: All apologies for the delay of Chicago, Part 3. There's just a lot of artwork and pictures involved and Max has been a bit too slammed to complete it in a timely fashion. But he will, he swears! Until then, whet your whistles with this late entry. Max begged me to blog about his Video Store Lady-friend, to clear his palatte. So I permitted him to do so if it meant getting the Chicago story completed faster.
- Vanna Farragut, Bowler Hat Blog Editor

This is Mrs. Kim. She's my Video Store Lady. There are many like her but this one is mine...

Actually, there AREN'T many like Mrs. Kim. In fact, I've never met anyone quite LIKE Mrs. Kim. My wife thinks I may even have a slight school-boy crush on Mrs. Kim. I say, "let's not get crazy, honey".

Mrs. Kim has been in business for 25 years. That's what she told me, anyway. She owns Lakeside Video over in Burbank on Pass Avenue. I think I've been renting movies from Mrs. Kim for about seven years now. It's actually one of the few pleasures I derive from venturing out into public these days. Oh, the joy I receive entering her store and perusing her treasures. There was ALWAYS something cool to find. Her selection was insane. It was the HUNT I craved.

ME: Mrs. Kim, how is it you ALWAYS have what I'm looking for?

MRS. KIM: (grinning) Ooohhh? Heh-heh-heh. Do I always have what you're looking for?

Mrs. Kim often answers a question with a question.

The answer is: Mrs. Kim ALWAYS has what I'm looking for. She even had a brutal French horror film I was dying to see called "Frontièr(s)". Mrs. Kim had it the day I went in looking for it.

ME: Mrs. Kim! You have "Frontièr(s)"!! I love you!!

MRS. KIM: Oh, ah-heh-heh-heh. You love me, do you? Heh-heh-heh. Oh, o-kay.

Mrs. Kim had a tendency to see right through my bullshit. But it never really IS bullshit. That's the thing people never seem to grasp about me. Oh, well.

Also, I'm probably depicting Mrs. Kim as having struggles speaking English. Her English is fine. But she does have a very thick Korean accent... and I did see her aggressively shoo away a cat once who'd slinked past her store's open front doors.

MRS. KIM: Shoo! Go 'way, cat! Go 'way, shoo! GO!!

Even though she had a little step-ladder, Mrs. Kim would sometimes still have difficulty reaching for a title and would allow me to go behind the counter to reach it for her. That always meant a lot that she trusted me so much. Hey, I worked in a video store once. I was qualified.

After so many years, Mrs. Kim even finally managed to memorize my NAME!

MRS. KIM: "Koch", right? K-o-c-h?

ME: You got it, Mrs. Kim!

Finally, last Friday, Mrs. Kim dropped a bomb on me worthy of Kim Jong-il's hidden arsenal. I went in to rent "Doomsday" and "Lost Boys (2): The Tribe" (in stock, of course) and noticed she wasn't grinning as widely at me like usual.

ME: Mrs. Kim? You okay?

MRS. KIM: Ooohh, you not gonna like what I have to say.

ME: No. Don't tell me.

MRS. KIM: I gonna be closing the store.

ME: Mrs. Kim... don't...

MRS. KIM: I am afraid so.

ME: Mrs. Kim... please...

MRS. KIM: It's enough! I want out! Lease is up! The economy! I want to retire! I miss my children! I want to travel! I so sorry.

ME: (holding back tears) But--but what about ME???

Back-and-forth we went for about 40 minutes. Mrs. Kim was closing her doors, not even selling the store to someone else. She was going to liquidate her entire stock and be out by August 30th. Apparently, a Jenny Craig is scheduled to take over the space.

A Jenny... Craig.

MRS. KIM: I buy all these sale posters. Big sale. You pick what you want and let me know. I set aside for you.

ME: Wait. You say you're selling everything?

MRS. KIM: Everything GO. Must.

ME: What if I wanted to just pick out ONE THING to buy today? Right now. Before the sale.

MRS. KIM: Go ahead.

Mrs. Kim's Lakeside Video is the ONLY video store in town anymore to carry "Threads". "Threads" is a 1984 BBC tele-film that I've been deeply obsessed with since my teens. Mrs. Kim only had a now long-out-of-print VHS copy, but word is the film is now available on DVD only in Europe. It's the single greatest "End of the World" film yet made, in my opinion. And Mrs. Kim sold me her copy for a few bucks.

MRS. KIM: You and this movie! Have you not rented this FOUR TIMES now??

ME: Well, now I OWN IT thanks to YOU, Mrs. Kim.

I took my "Threads" and my last two rented NEW movies from Mrs. Kim and drove home stunned and devastated.

The next day I came back and all the sale signs were up. I was so sad and angry to see those blasted signs...

I entered the store and shot Mrs. Kim a sour grimace. She coolly chuckled.

ME: I hate you now, Mrs. Kim. I used to love you and now I hate you.

MRS. KIM: Oooohhh, nnnooo. So sorrryyy.

I dropped some bucks on some more used titles. Nic was interested in a few and now our DVD collection has expanded even more. Pretty soon, we'll have NO CHOICE but to get a house!

ME: I'm not saying goodbye to you yet, Mrs. Kim. I shall return before you vacate.

MRS. KIM: Oh, please DO! You know, for the first few days I was so depressed... but now I couldn't be more excited to GET ON with my life!

ME: Good for you, Mrs. Kim. Glad to hear it.

Damn it.

I left Mrs. Kim for the umpteenth time in seven years and went grocery shopping right next door. As I roamed the aisles in a blind-sided haze, I began to ponder the total lame-ness of a Mrs. Kim-free world. Blockbuster's a bad rebound, but at least they carry lots of horror titles. But I hate Blockbuster and everyone I know hates Blockbuster and maybe I'll consider Netflix and maybe I'll--

I just want Mrs. Kim back.

The Mom and Pop video stores are going by way of the polar bear. I'm just sick about it.

You know I probably shouldn't be admitting this... but once, long ago, I rented a dirty movie from Mrs. Kim from her long-since-abandoned, sad-little dirty movie section. Well, I was in a frisky mood, and... y'know... whatever. But I recall - and maybe I'm just being totally paranoid here - but I recall Mrs. Kim shooting me an almost-flash of ever-so-slight disappointment. And I remember thinking, "Whoa. Hey. Did I somehow just let Mrs. Kim down???".

It was the LAST dirty movie I ever rented.

"Our Kinda Town: Max & Nichole Go To Chicago" (Part 2)

2008-07-11T08:17:00.000-07:00

(Click all snapshots and quick-drawn cartoons to enlarge)

SUNSET CRUISE

Nic and I wanted to do something special for our first night in Chicago, so we chose a sunset cruise. I'm such a lunkhead, I didn't have the faintest notion there even WAS a Chicago River that flowed in from Lake Michigan, through downtown and beyond. Word is, it's even dyed green on St. Paddy's Day! Now THAT I have to see someday.

ME: Sunset cruise! I like it. Will there be cocktails?

NIC: Well, we have the option of taking a regular sunset cruise or a cocktail sunset cruise.

ME: Hm. Forgive me, honey, but... I don't really SEE any "other option".

NIC: Now this is also an architectural cruise, you realize. There's education involved.

ME: Sure, sure, architecture. But cocktails, too, right?

NIC: You're pathetic.

ME: COCKTAILS AND ARCHITECTURE!!!

We hiked it on foot from the Hotel Cass down to the north pier and boarded the bustling boat (it's SO easy to get around the city on foot). Then, once on deck, there appeared to be some kinda 30th birthday bash going on that had spilled out from one of the bars. We were instantly surrounded by about 27 hip-ly dressed PARTY PEOPLE OF POLISH PERSUASION... who'd evidently mistaken this excursion as something else entirely!

This dude below, in particular, could NOT stifle himself from taking digital snapshots every 15 seconds and sneaking repeated slugs from a silver flask holstered in pink leather...

And, WOW, did these Party Hearty Poles make a ton of trips to the bar! They eventually got SO loud that you couldn't even hear the boring-ass load on the loudspeaker drone on unenthusiastically about the city's breath-taking architecture.

Hope to learn about the buildings SOMEDAY, anyway.

As we cruised beneath the stunning structures and sipped on weak-butt margaritas, I once again found myself counting my luckies. I also realized that Chicago reminded a LOT of a European city, which really surprised me. Barcelona, especially. These were only first impressions, mind you, but it really seemed like the citizens of Chicago take a great deal of civic pride in their fair city. It seems they also stop at nothing to WANT to submerse themselves in the city's cultural offerings. I mean, just on the stroll down from the hotel to the boat alone, we saw about as many busy sidewalk cafes as we did in Florence.

People are OUT in Chicago, man. They're out and they're living and they're laughing and they're eating and they're drinking and they're conversing and, best of all, they're making connections. And I don't mean, "hey, there's Joe Mantegna... go over there and ask for his phone number". I mean, they're enjoying the rich company of one another in a city that transparently welcomes - dare I say, INSTIGATES - a good time.

And you just can't believe the sights...

As we broke away from the not-so-narrow confines of the mid-west metropolis and ventured out into Lake Michigan, other deep thoughts flooded my fat head...

ME: Whoa.

NIC: What.

ME: You realize I was BORN in the state of Michigan?

NIC: Yeah?

ME: That's just so weird. (pointing east) I mean, there's Michigan... right over there! And, yet... it is nothing that I feel. All my Michigan blood family is gone. Dad's buried there. Grandma Koch. Uncle Jeff. All the Kochs are dead. I have no family!

NIC: You have me.

ME: Yeah, well... still can't wrap my MIND around that one. (pause) And do you know that if I ever become famous, I join the ranks of Michigan-born actors like Jeff Daniels, Richard Kiel, and Curtis Armstrong, who played Booger in the "Revenge of the Nerds" movies?

NIC: I know who Curtis Armstrong is.

ME: I mean, WHAT'S MICHIGAN? It's just a big mitten on a map! Ya got your militias, your Motown, your Bob Eubanks. But what does any of that have to do with me? I never thought of myself as a Michigan-born anything. I have NO connection to my home state. Nichole? DEAR LORD, SAVE ME, I'M A CALIFORNIA SON!!!

NIC: Why don't we just concentrate on these views.

ME: You're right.

(FYI: Sometimes it's tough taking spectacular views when THIS hot little cutie's in the way!)

Now.

If I had a boat on Lake Michigan, it would MOST DEFINITELY be THIS one. These folks were un-corking bottles of sweet V like there was no tomorrow. Lucky for them, there was...

After the cruise, the wife and I found a tasty little gourmet market and picked up some wines and some bread and a coupla salads. We went back to our little hovel of a room and had ourselves a sexy, little late-night picnic. I think there might've even been an HBO documentary on about toothless Atlantic City prostitutes. Good times, baby. We are getting this traveling thing DOWN!

ART AND SISTER

Sunday morning, Nic and I took an immaculate Michigan Avenue bus to the Art Institute of Chicago. Nic had to register at the SHRM conference at 1pm, so we made sure to get something special in before we had to part ways for the afternoon. About the institute, there were all kinds of visually-arresting appetizers...

The bridge for the "L" train ("French Connection", anyone?):

The Chicago Public Library (We thought those things were dragons up there, but they're, in fact, OWLS!):

The Buckingham Fountain:

THIS!

I always enjoy hitting the art museums. They inspire me. And it's so fun for the wife and I to try to bust each other up with under-the-breath running commentary on the stuff. But we keep our mouths shut when we stand before the really GOOD stuff, save an awe-filled "wow" or two.

(Being a Leo, the wife always makes me pose by lion statues)

Unfortunately, immediate frustration followed upon entrance to the museum. First you're told to check your bags, which I really have no problem with. But then I had to deal with a situation that SERIOUSLY pissed me off!

We set our bags down before the creepy, bald check clerk (2 backpacks with 2 waters in 2 side-pockets).

CLERK: Remove your waters, please.

ME: Oh, sure.

CLERK: No water allowed in the museum.

ME: Oh. Okay. But we just bought these at the 7-11.

CLERK: Sorry, sir. Policy.

ME: That's fine. Lemme just put the waters IN the backpack proper then. Why waste water, right?

CLERK: Wrong. Sir. No water in the museum.

NIC: They're NOT in the museum. They're in our backpacks.

CLERK: We can't have any waters anywhere near the museum.

ME: IF WE HAD PUT THE WATERS IN THE BAGS VERSUS THE SIDE-POCKETS, HOW WOULD YOU EVEN KNOW?!?!

CLERK: There's a rich chance I would have randomly inspected your bags and discovered the waters inside.

ME: THIS IS ABSOLUTELY MADNESS!!

CLERK: The New World is a madness-filled place, sir.

The clerk was done with me.

And so that's what we did. As begrudgingly and with as much attitude as we could muster.

The Chicago Art Institute houses a kick-ass miniature museum as well as the originals of Hopper's "Nighthawks" and Grant Wood's "American Gothic", which I was most excited to see. I frickin' LOVE this painting!

Back at the Hotel Cass, Nic was off to the SHRM conference and I sat patiently waiting for my sister to call me from O'Hare when she landed. She did.

ASHLEY: Hi!

ME: Baby! Where are you?

ASHLEY: I just landed. What do I do now?

ME: I thought you were taking a cab?

ASHLEY: A cab might be too expensive. Hey, guess what!

ME: What.

ASHLEY: THE AD FIRM FLEW ME IN FIRST CLASS!

ME: What??

ASHLEY: Yeah! It was great. I had no idea until I boarded.

Meet my sister. This is her life. She always wins. ALWAYS. God bless her.

ME: Well, go down to the baggage claim, get your bag, and find the "Go" shuttle kiosk. Take the shuttle into downtown to the Hotel Cass on WABASH Avenue.

An hour later my sister calls me back.

ME: Hey! Where are you?

ASHLEY: I'm still at the airport. WHERE do I go?

ME: Ashley???

My sister kills me. She is so funny. This is a young woman who always wins and is SO incredibly bright yet somehow, sometimes, manages to also glide through life with substantial amounts of AIR in her head. AND SHE'S NEVER PROPERLY PREPARED, CLOTHING-WISE! I had told her previously that Chicago was "currently warm and muggy". So what does she do? ONLY PACKS SUPER-LIGHT SUMMER CLOTHING! Meanwhile, occasional snaps of chill would pop up, especially down by the lake, and Ashley would be cold.

ASHLEY: This sucks! Whaddo I do? I don't have a jacket.

Oh, Ashley.

But, boy, once she finally showed up that Sunday afternoon and we hit an Irish pub and came back to the room and Nic came back from the conference and the Olympic gymnastic trials came on the TV, I tell ya, I was in ABSOLUTE HEAVEN!!

Muh GIRLS!! Here we all were! Together! In Chicago! WHAT??? HOW THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN?!?

We then decided to head on down to Navy Pier and grant it a once-over. NOT the greatest point of interest with all due respect, City of Chicago. Lots of fatties and frumps and fast food and neon and gnats and smelly acrobats and tacky teddy bears and mullets.

Well, wait a minute. It WAS fun to take in a coupla good ol' mid-west mullets!

At least the views of the city were, once again, abundant.

(Ashley in one of Nic's borrowed shirts... she refused to be
photographed in it, but I don't care, I love this pic)

Like a SUPERHERO, I hailed a cab and got us the hell out of there. The rest of the eve was pretty much me tailing behind these two while they spoke of work and and love and life in the REAL WORLD!

Dinner was at a pretty great Chinese/Thai joint on Ohio called Big Bowl. Aside from the fact that our waiter stood over us all night in possession of a most unappetizing booger in his left nostril (I mean, this thing was STUBBORN), the culinary aspects of the experience was nothing but satisfying.

Back in our room, it was soon to be lights out. I was hoping for an all-night, goof-off/giggle-fest, a REAL slumber party, but the girls were exhausted and work for them was to be done the next day. Me, I was just happy as hell to be in their company. Even in such tight quarters (just for that first night, if you recall... Ashley would be checking into her own room the following). And I have to say NOTHING was funnier than seeing Little Miss First Class Airfare stuck sleeping on the floor under a table!

Monday morning, I awoke to an e-mail from my friend Doug that simply read "fuck" in the subject line. I opened it. All it read was:

Carlin.

--doug

My heart sank.

NEXT: CARLIN RUINS EVERYTHING... MAX MANIA IN A HOTEL STAIRWELL... AND A WRIGLEY FIELD OF DREAMS!

Max on Jackassworld...

2008-07-07T10:21:00.000-07:00

In relation to a previous post, I submitted 6 pieces to the "jackassworld" art competition. At any rate, I guess I've won an honorable mention.

But then I woke up this morning and discovered I'd won something else entirely. My hands are still shaking. Stick out the whole vid, if you can. It's only about 4 minutes and there are THREE moments, in particular, of note.

My jackassworld handle is "Mister Wine"...

"Our Kinda Town: Max & Nichole Go To Chicago" (Part 1)

2008-07-02T10:31:00.001-07:00

(Click all snapshots and quick-drawn cartoons to enlarge)

Late last month, the wife (Nichole, for you new readers) had to trek out to Chicago for the annual SHRM conference (Society of Human Resource Management) and guess who got to ONCE AGAIN tag along! That's RIGHT, kids... ME! The husband! The support system! The side-kick! The slave! The maid! The personal assistant! The protector! The body guard! The human dildo! The sponge! The rock! The hanger-on! The charity case! The luggage toter! The bring-along clown! Ol' Loser McBoozer himself... me... Jeffrey "Maxon" Brian Koch!

How about THAT! Me. And why? Because, you see, I'm the not-so-better half the Porcelain Queen can't seem to shake. Like a bad STD she accidentally caught in college, now forever existing to solely plague HER. Oh, I'm right there, boy! All up in her hot lil' business. And I don't seem to be going ANYWHERE anytime soon. Nope, that is so. And hope is fading in the finding of a cure, too, just so we're clear. No assist in getting rid of MY sorry butt anytime soon. And NOW... here I got to go with the wife and see Chicago, off all cities, for the first time, courtesy of the big boss (well, the room and HER food and plane ticket, anyway). It's just one of several perks I get to enjoy being married for almost a decade now to a Vice President for a well-respected commercial real estate company.

Man-oh-man, I gotta tell ya. So far? Nichole's seriously the true success story of our family. Me, I'm just a story. Or, more appropriate, some kinda deranged, misbegotten, fractured fairy-tale.

The phone rang a few weeks before our initial departure to Illinois. It was my sister. Ashley.

ASH: Jeffrey! Guess what! (She's always called me "Jeffrey")

ME: What!

ASH: I'M GONNA BE IN CHICAGO WHEN YOU'RE GONNA BE IN CHICAGO!!!

ME: What???

ASH: Yeah! I just talked to Mom and she told me your Chicago dates! I have to go there for business myself! I'll be there for THREE DAYS!!!

ME: I get to see you for THREE DAYS???

ASH: Well. No. Most likely just one day. I mean, I'll be working.

ME: Oh.

ASH: But I'm planning on flying in a day early now so we can spend time together. I just might have to crash in your guys' room for a night.

ME: Hey! No problem! That's GREAT NEWS!!!

ASH: I know! I love you!

ME: I love YOU!

And I do. Oh, do I ever. I love my sister so much. She's so cool. And I love chatting with her on the phone. She lives in the southwest and is working for a big ad firm out there. I'm so proud of her, I can't stand it.

I immediately called Nichole at work.

ME: HEY!

NIC: Hey.

ME: Guess what!

NIC: What?

ME: Ashley's gonna be in Chicago when WE'RE gonna be in Chicago!!!

NIC: Are you serious?? That's incredible!

ME: I know! She has to go there for business as well!

NIC: Fabulous! We'll get to hang out!

ME: Totally! And she'll be staying with us, too!

Pause.

NIC: What?

ME: Yeah!

NIC: Well, wait a minute now. Look, I adore your sister and all but, Jeff, the room I booked through SHRM only has one bed. Plus two girls and a guy sharing a bathroom... I... I just don't know.

ME: But... she's my sister! I love her!

NIC: Of course! And I love your sister, too, Jeff! But a whole week with three people crammed in a small room could be compromising! I mean, why can't her ad firm put her up??

Okay.

So.

Here's where I can be a complete and total BUFFOON when it comes to negotiating with my wife.

My wife... enjoys her space. She prefers a California-King-sized bed... and she's INDISPUTABLY PARTIAL to having her own private bathroom. Can't say I blame the fine woman. It is who she is. So when I'm throwing at her the fact that my sister is staying with us in our hotel room and NOT clarifying that it would only be for one night (being that she'd fly in a day early to be with us), you could then safely deduce that I am, quintessentially, one of the biggest NUMBSKULLS to ever retarded-ly attempt to inhale oxygen. You know, once synapses kicked in and I realized that I'd left OUT a fairly pertinent sleep-arrangement detail.

OH, THE EGG ON MY FACE!!!

ME: Sorry, honey! I just meant the one night!

NIC: That couldn't be more fine-by-me! But couldn't you have said that before? I try to plan things out to keep things relatively stress-free and then YOU come along and toss these curveballs at me! You're really not-so-bright sometimes, Koch.

ME: Hey! Hey, I am who I am and I demand to be treated with RESPECT!

NIC: I love you, but in the clouds or up your ass, I dunno WHERE your head is sometimes. It's really God's own private mystery.

ME: My head is... EXACTLY where... my head should BE!!

NIC: Just know that poor Ashley now has to sleep on the floor. You're old and she's young and can handle it and I don't want you throwing your back out.

ME: Old?? I'm only 37!

NIC: You'll be 38 in August!!

ME: SOMEBODY GET ME A DRINK, damn it!!!

Poor Nic. As it was, The Counselor - who lives down by LAX and usually lets us park our car in his 'hood and takes us to the airport when we travel - had suddenly alluded that he might not be available, after all, to chauffeur us this time around (even though the plans were made two months prior). He'd made the commitment, sure... but now there was the chance that the plans would have to change and we'd have to take a cab from his place at 4:30 in the morning. Look, it happens! Yeah, well, suffice to say, after a stern e-mail from Nic to The Counselor conveying that his way of changing plans last minute and going about life "willy-nilly" does NOT necessarily benefit those who count on things to go precisely the way they were planned, he then re-instated his availability (without question) and dropped us off at the LAX United terminal.

Is "DON'T FUCK WITH THE WIFE" the lesson here? Perhaps. But I also think The Counselor's just really fond of Nichole and didn't wish to let her down. It can be a somewhat dysfunctional family around these parts.

A LITTLE FEAR AND A WHOLE LOT OF LOATHING AT THE HOTEL CASS

We landed at O'Hare airport on a Saturday afternoon. A comically-confident, African-American fellow provided colorful commentary throughout our ENTIRE hour-long van trip as he drove us straight into the pulse of the city (okay, PLEASE don't think me racist, but the black folks we met in Chicago were some the most spectacular people we'd ever met ANYWHERE in our travels! Same goes for the white folks and the yellow folks and the fat folks and the darkly-tan folks we met out there, too. Chicaaaaaaaago gives GREAT PEOPLE, boy, But more on the bruthas and sistas of the city, in particular, later. Oh, man, I have such "black envy" right now, it's crazy).

Anyway!

Once we disembarked and faced the Hotel Cass head on, we started to get REALLY excited! Here we were in CHICAGO! One of the greatest cities in the universe! The Windy City itself! The Adventure had begun!

Yeah!

Then we met the doorman. And instantly I noticed how rumpled and unshaven he was. Look, I didn't wanna judge straight off the bat, but suddenly I wondered a bit just what kinda ragtag shit-stop the wife had booked us at!

ME: We got it, brother. Thanks.

We headed towards the front desk.

NIC: You sure like to call other men in your wake "brother" a lot, don't you?

ME: No good?

NIC: It's a little presumptuous.

ME: Did you see how unkempt the doorman was? What kinda operation are they RUNNING here at the Hotel Cass?

NIC: You know what you are, don't ya?

ME: What?

NIC: You, sir, are a "hotel snob".

ME: I am NOT a hotel snob!

NIC: You're a RRRRRABID hotel snob!!!

Yes, it's true. My wife and I often, in fact, happen to be an episode of Seinfeld.

Hey, she should talk! It's HER fault, to begin with, that I am no longer humanly capable of staying anywhere NEAR a Motel 6. SHE started it. Not me. Back in the day, I was FINE staying in any random rented room that looked and smelled like hookers may have been murdered in them. The Henry Lee Lucas suites, I'd tag 'em. But not no more, boy. Now? I'm the very worst hotel snob you can imagine.

I mean, it's BAD. Not only have I gotten much airhead-ier in my old age but also a lot snootier, too! And I helped Nichole pick this place we were now staying in! This so-called "Hotel Cass". Alright, maybe I didn't help pick it out but I certainly APPROVED it when Nic sat me town months prior to show it to me online! Whaddo I know?! I thought she was on the ball with the hotel planning!

- TRANSCRIPT FROM THE HOTEL BOOKING PHASE OF THE TRIP-

ME: Does it have a pool?

NIC: No. But the bathroom has a bathtub for me.

ME: Good for you. Does it have a gym?

NIC: No. But they DO give away these $10 vouchers to a Crunch that's up the street.

ME: Huh? How does that work?

NIC: I dunno.

ME: First and foremost... do they have a bar, or... y'know, some kinda jazzy lounge that serves cocktails? Old school-style. (bluesy) Chicago. Yeah.

NIC: No. BUT. They do serve a warm breakfast every day.

ME: So they have a restaurant?

NIC: No.

ME: Oh.

NIC: But, you know, it's like eggs and bagels and bacon and coffee.

ME: But no bar.

NIC: No bar.

ME: I see.

NIC: Well, it looks good online, anyway. And I'm booking all this through SHRM so we get a good discount.

Right. Discount.

Our room at the Hotel Cass was European-tiny. Our room at the Hotel Cass had a temperamental air-conditioning system. Our room at the Hotel Cass had lousy cable (although I'll give them points for the flat-screen TV). Our room at the Hotel Cass had nowhere substantial to really store anything, especially in the bathroom. Our room at the Hotel Cass didn't have a refrigerator.

ME: No FRIDGE?!? WHERE WILL WE STORE THE GRUYERE CHEESE WE PICK UP FROM THE CHEESE SHOPPE?!?! How will we chill the local wines we buy?!

NIC: I don't think wines are made here in the state of Illinois.

ME: No Illinois wines? With, like, Jake and Elwood on the label? "Blues Brothers" wine?

NIC: I really don't know.

I looked around what was to be our home for the next week, now ASHAMED at what I'd become. This... this... HOTEL SNOB!!! Me??? What IS that?!

I then had a Linus Van Pelt moment and decided it really wasn't such a bad little room after all. It just needed a lotta love.

Then I swiftly ate my own arrogance and realized how lucky I was to even be ALLOWED TO PENETRATE THE ENTRANCE-WAY INTO THIS ROOM! Who the hell did I think I was??? I was in Chicago, man! With my gorgeous wife! And a week of Lord-knows-what ahead of me! Shit, I even figured out a way to chill the celebratory champagne!

ME: Ya know what, Franny? (to the newbies: I sometimes call my wife "Franny") In all actuality... this room SUCKS. It is small and musty... and MUSKY... and VERY, VERY GREEN in it's COLOR SCHEME. But we're DAMN lucky to be here, dang it. So let's just make the very best of it. Whaddya say?

I felt like a new traveler.

NIC: I like your 'tude, dude. (My wife will sometimes say things like that)

Then we took a quick nap and the wife broke out the brochures. Surely, there was SOMETHING we could do together on our first Saturday night ever in the city of Chicago...

NEXT: Sunset Boat Cruise! PLUS: My sister arrives... and George Carlin dies (nearly RUINING the trip for me) ...

Max lives in JACKASSWORLD

2008-06-19T11:55:00.000-07:00

Jackassworld is my very favorite website of all time. And I just had to thank the jackassworld members who've been so supportive of the submissions I entered for the jackassworld art contest.

Especially Mr. Knoxville himself.

- Max

P.S. Balsac The Clown posted a thread that should lead you to the Koch entries.

Save Jackassworld!

2008-06-18T22:33:00.000-07:00

KNOXVILLE COMMENTED ON MY ARTWORK

Bird Dog Returns!

2008-06-11T07:33:00.000-07:00

From the wide-open wild of Tennessee rolls our favorite fan... to HENDRIX, no less...

The Fucking UNIVERSE Explodes...

2008-05-28T19:07:00.000-07:00

Sydney Pollack by Max

2008-05-27T11:46:00.000-07:00

While Sydney Pollack was known primarily as a film director, I was always a tremendous fan of his screen acting. I don't think crippling-male-mid-life crisis was EVER played to perfection more than by Pollack in one of Woody Allen's very best pictures, "Husbands and Wives". Sydney also appeared in Stanley Kubrick's final film, "Eyes Wide Shut" (offering up some of the best Stanley anecdotes I've ever heard in DVD extras), and, of course, as Dustin Hoffman's exasperated agent in his own directed "Tootsie".

But the very best Pollack performance of all (to me, anyway) was in one of the very last episodes of "The Sopranos", where he played convicted multiple murderer Warren Feldman. His scenes with on-his-deathbed John "Johnny Sack" Sacramoni were some of the best of that historic season.

Sydney Pollack brought class, credibility, and great humor to every thing he did. I loved watching interviews with Sydney. He made everything so interesting and had a GREAT love of cinema. He was so full of killer stories. I'm just so saddened and shocked by his untimely death from cancer (he was only 73), that I audibly gasped last night when I read the news on CNN.com. My wife was worried I'd stepped on a nail or something.

Sydney Pollack jokingly referred to himself as "Mr. Mainstream", based primarily on the obvious commercial movies he directed. To me, Sydney Pollack was anything but. Especially considering was a brilliant, funny, refreshing personality he was in interviews. One of a damn kind.

2008-04-29T18:49:00.000-07:00

Max's CELEBRITY NECROLOGY...

2008-04-27T21:12:00.001-07:00

DEBRIS by Max

2008-04-25T13:39:00.000-07:00

On my morning cardio jaunt yesterday (I'll never be skinny again), I was passing along a coffee house I used to work at when all of a sudden one of those giant green trash trucks vroomed by and something FLEW off the top of it and hit me in the head. It was one of those dated, 3-quarter-inch video cassette cases!

I picked it up and read the label...

"Passions"? Isn't that, like, a daytime soap opera or something? Don't I know 2 or 3 actors that have made appearances on that show? Is THIS what I need on a Friday morning when I'm just trying to get some FUCKING EXERCISE in???

As you can see, I held onto the case for the rest of my work-out so I could get home to blog about it's relentless assault upon my pate. Then, about 6 yards ahead, I came across ANOTHER discarded case...

Did whoever rent this copy of "Sweeney Todd" wind up having to pay full price for it? Were they reprimanded? I mean, how often does this happen to Blockbuster Video's stock? How CARELESS is this??? How irresponsible of the renter. Clearly, the contract between Blockbuster Video and said renter was never honored in any way, shape, or form. I mean, how hard is it to rent a movie, watch it, and return it within a week? Why does the case for the DVD wind up battered and abused and tossed to the gutter? Where went the DVD itself? And why do I CARE so much?

Saw "Sweeney Todd" in theatres with the wife. I really dug that one. Well, as it is, I'm a huge Burton guy. Many of my friends bash his work, but I think he's one of the great macabre visualists of our time. I thought Depp was awesome as Todd, too. I really enjoyed seeing him play a serial killer. The throat-slashing was exhilarating. Oh, who cares what I think?

After the movie, we dined at an Italian restaurant where they give you crayons and you can draw on the placements. So I doodled Depp as Todd...

I've noticed there's a LOT of debris in the streets when I hit them on foot. Yet, for some reason, I'm always compelled to pay very close attention to it.

Sometimes debris, y'know, provides anecdotal inspiration.

I Don't Mean To Be Mean, Butt...

2008-04-25T13:21:00.000-07:00

Here's the grotesque, grossly gargantuan backside belonging to a woman I got stuck behind at a Costco. Man, they REALLY know how to consume over there, those Costco shoppers!

- Max

Max channels R.E.M.'s MICHAEL STIPE

2008-04-24T08:00:00.000-07:00

I got SO frustrated with the rubber skull wig that I just gave up on it. I really can't seem to convince myself to use spirit gum again. Remnants of trauma from my heavily made-up theatrical performances in high school.

So honored...

2008-04-17T19:41:00.001-07:00

salo78a| April 17, 2008 (Block User)

I just finished watching all ur 37 videos, loved them ALL Max, you have to be there in LA right now seriously. BTW thanks for ur comment, you have a friend in Saudi Arabia now :) all the best, Max - Saleh (from) SA.

"Living On Video" (by Max)

2008-04-17T07:52:00.000-07:00

In my teens, I used to go to this new wave dance club on Topanga Cyn. Blvd. at Sherman Way (in the west San Fernando Valley) called "Phases". If I recall, they didn't serve booze. You'd show up, pay a cover, drink lots of soda-pop, and dance with your friends. My friend Dawn would pick me up in her cherry-red VW bug and we'd go spend entire evenings at Phases. Although now that I think about it, I DO recall being pretty messed-up usually in that place. Perhaps it was the surreal pink-neon settings and absorbing all the seemingly decadent social activities of the out-there club patrons... or more likely it was because we'd pound wine coolers in the bug before we went in. I don't remember. Maybe the soda-pops were spiked. Man, did I also smoke a lot of CLOVES in my teens.

Anyway, not only was Phases my first real taste of the burgeoning valley Goth scene, but it was also where I heard some of the most memorable new wave songs of my youth. It was at Phases that I was introduced to John Lydon and Afrika Bambaataa's "Time Zone - World Destruction" and "Modern Industry" by Fishbone. They'd also play tons of Siouxsie and The Banshees, Bauhaus, and Adam Ant.

But the song I always associated Phases with was none other than Trans X's "Living On Video". I don't know WHY, besides Gary Newman's "Cars", that particular piece of early electronica continued to haunt me for so very long. For years, I would put it on from time to time (used to have the 12" vinyl single) and I even found recently a re-mastered version of it on itunes, which I bought. Found also (just now), the music video to "Living On Video" (which I've NEVER seen) and was SHOCKED to discover that not only was the LEAD lead singer some French-Canadian, blond DUDE (always thought it was a female)... but that he was also backed up by a wee army of sparkly-dressed mover androids, lots of IBM monitors, and some rejected chick extra from "Less Than Zero".

The illusion was shattered. But, boy, does this still bring me back. And the blond dude gets INTO it, man. I just thought these folks would be so much more spooky-ville, vampire-looking! Just goes to show...

You know what? (by Max)

2008-04-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

I'm gonna invest more time in this Bowler Hat blog. I feel I've been neglecting it. Let's start fresh.

Spoke to The Counselor about an hour ago. He was on his way home after a morning of work. The dude was talking so fast and not really listening to me and kept spinning all over the map and asking me countless questions at a rapid pace that I couldn't understand what the hell was UP with him.

ME: What is UP with you? Are you on cocaine???

THE COUNSELOR: (laughing) Nah, man. Just HIGH ON LIFE.

Aye-yi-yi. How is it I'm SO not a fan of the "high on life" people but such a fan of my wackadoo partner-in-crime, The Counselor? Life can be so odd.

Time to play hooky with three horror movies. I'll let you know how they are.

2008-04-08T07:43:00.001-07:00

The LAST thing you need...

2008-04-08T07:42:00.000-07:00

is THIS:

A Special Message from Max & The Counselor...

2008-04-01T22:35:00.001-07:00

Max Channels MICHAEL JACKSON

2008-03-26T22:22:00.001-07:00

Sir Arthur C. Clarke, 1917 - 2008

2008-03-19T08:11:00.000-07:00

One of the coolest, trippiest, most brilliant dudes that ever rocked the cosmos. This man's mind was ONE OF A KIND. It's no wonder he was one of Stanley Kubrick's favorite collaborators ("2001: A Space Odyssey", for those who could care less).

There was so much to learn from him. If it wasn't for Clarke, I bet we'd have no satellites, no desire to somehow communicate with the unknown. It was an idea he never patented that obviously came to historical fruition in other ways.

Quote Clarke: "Behind every man now alive stand 30 ghosts, for that is the ratio by which the dead outnumber the living."

Max Channels DAVID LYNCH

2008-03-17T13:17:00.001-07:00

BOWLER HAT BLOG EXCLUSIVE: "Ode To Cayucos" (a short video by Max)

2008-03-13T19:57:00.000-07:00

Found some time this morning to put this together. Just visited Cayucos this past weekend for the 5th time in two years. So pour yourself a delectable title birthed from the twisted vines of Paso Robles wine country and GO...

Max channels GARY BUSEY

2008-03-13T19:45:00.000-07:00

Max channels NICK NOLTE

2008-03-13T19:29:00.000-07:00

"He Sucks, He Stinks, He's Talentless" (featuring LISA ARCH)

2008-03-13T19:27:00.000-07:00

Max (as AL PACINO) interviews STEFAN MARKS

2008-03-13T19:26:00.000-07:00

Max channels TONY SOPRANO, Part III (featuring JACK & BOBBY)

2008-03-13T19:23:00.000-07:00

"End Times Angel" Teaser Trailer

2008-03-06T06:18:00.001-08:00

To be viewed in the dark.

Max Counts his Luckies (A RARE OCCURANCE)

2008-02-29T12:50:00.001-08:00

Just got a reward from Break.com for $200 for my first Tony video. Extremely grateful to them for that. Didn't wanna give away the exclusive rights to it for a year for $400, which they initially offered, only because I wanna keep it going on YouTube.

As of this writing, 12:44pm, Friday, February 29, 2008... there have been 230,521 views of the damn thing on Break alone. That's not even counting the YouTube numbers and all the rest of it. Am I tooting my own horn? Hardly. But as the Counselor just explained to me... the fact that, in this day and age, a guy goofing off in his bathrobe, in the middle of a weekday, with a little Canon digital camera and a tripod he got when he was 16 years old somehow managed to score the biggest wave of attention he's received in his 37 years.

Pretty fuckin' insane, ask me...

UPDATE: 322, 806 views as of 3/13.

Max channels AL PACINO

2008-02-24T12:45:00.000-08:00

Max channels TOM WAITS

2008-02-21T10:48:00.001-08:00

Max channels TONY SOPRANO, Part II

2008-02-19T18:27:00.001-08:00

Max channels STEVE-O

2008-02-18T14:52:00.001-08:00

The Rare Ambulance

2008-02-18T07:28:00.001-08:00

Max channels JACK

2008-02-13T14:13:00.000-08:00

I'm in LOVE.

2008-02-12T06:41:00.000-08:00

The BEST televised performance (via satellite) by a musical artist I've seen in YEARS...

Just not sure quite why Cuba was there.

Message From Mia #3

2008-02-11T14:30:00.000-08:00

2008-02-09T23:00:00.001-08:00

You're Not Going ANYWHERE by Max

2008-02-07T09:04:00.000-08:00

(Click pics to enlarge)

I’m not supposed to be here. I’m supposed to be in Lenexa, Kansas with my family. On Super Bowl Sunday, my plan was to sit outside in their backyard, smoke a Backwoods, and stare at the falling snow (sorry, but the LAST place I’d be is inside on the couch actually watching the Super Bowl). But instead I was back home in L.A. County on Sunday, re-visiting a documentary I own on Hunter S. Thompson, nursing a wine before my fireplace while my wife scotch-guarded her new outfits for work.

So why am I still here? What happened to Kansas? Well, I’ll tell you. I never made it to Kansas. I never made it to Kansas and I never made it to my plane seat. I wasn’t even permitted to make the SECOND flight. No flight to Kansas for me, boy. It was not my fate, ol' Kansas at the kick-off of February. Believe you me, if I was Tom Petty and I had to get to Kansas, I’d be in Kansas.

So last Wednesday, Green Girl picked me up, I dropped a spinach omelet down her lil' pink throat, and she dropped my round-ish, white ass off at the Bob Hope Burbank Airport. I had a backpack, my laptop, and a GARGANTUAN suitcase full of heavy, winter clothing. American Airlines, Flight 352, to Dallas/Fort Worth, here I was to come!

AA CHECK-IN GUY: Sir, this your bag?

ME: Oh, that’s my bag, baby!

AA CHECK-IN GUY: Sir, this bag’s weight exceeds AA regulations.

ME: Yeah, she’s a heavy girl. I keep telling her to lay off those COATS. Heh-heh.

AA CHECK-IN GUY: Sir, this bag’s weight exceeds our regulations. We’re lookin’ at a 79lb. bag here.

ME: But I’m only going to Kansas for a week.

AA CHECK-IN GUY: Sir, 50 pounds is a bag’s maximum weight. If you don’t lose four pounds, you’ll have to pay a $50 overweight fine, which brings you down to a 75 lb. bag. If you keep the four pounds, you’ll have to pay a $100 overweight fee, which keeps the bag’s weight at an outrageous 79 lbs. SEVENTY-NINE POUNDS OF BAG, SIR!

ME: Jesus.

A palpable wave of total discomfort crashed through the check-in area. Stained faces about my peripheral judged my soul in with bitter contempt.

AA CHECK-IN GUY: What’s it gonna be, sir?

I opened my suitcase in front of everyone and removed about four pounds of sweaters. Well, I like to be prepared. What I was gonna actually DO with the four pounds of sweaters I hadn’t figured out yet, but I just had to get the hell away from this AA douchebag.

What an asshole.

I wound up paying an additional $50 for my bag (don't tell my wife... wait, she's reading this).

Man!

And I was in SUCH a good mood when I walked into the airport, too. By now, however, it had all ALREADY all gone to shit. (NOTE TO SELF: IF I HAVE TO PACK TWO SUITCASES IN ORDER TO FIT ALL MY CRAP IN, JUST MAKE SURE TO WEIGH THEM AT HOME, PRIOR TO VENTURING TO THE AIRPORT.)

Oh, great. Next up was passing through airport security. And we all know how THAT usually goes...

By the time I arrived at the gate, I could already begin to sense something in the air wasn't quite kosher. It seems the older I get, the more attune I am to the more distressing energies about my immediate atmosphere. That, or by now in my life, I'm flat-out ANTICIPATORY (spiritually and chemically) of IMPENDING DOOM. Not to be negative, but it is a talent of mine.

As it turns out, an announcement was made by the AA CHECK-IN GUY (henceforth, "AA DOUCHEBAG"):

AA DOUCHEBAG: Ladies and gentlemen, it appears that because of the winds, we're going to have to make a brief fuel stop in San Bernardino Airport.

NONE of us knew what that meant. A line began to form at the gate desk for further clarification. Me, I waited for more info to be relayed. It was soon after that AA Douchebag made a second announcement:

AA DOUCHEBAG: Ladies and gentlemen, it appears there's a slight mechanical issue with the plane. Please sit tight and we'll let you know what's what as soon as WE know something.

By now it was 12:55pm. Take-off time for Flight 352 was supposed to be 1pm. By 2:30pm, I decided to take a pee and purchase a Diet Coke.

By 2:35pm, I noticed AA workers outside REMOVING our luggage from the plane.

AA DOUCHEBAG: Ladies and gentlemen, we're sorry to report that Flight 352 to Dallas/Fort Worth has been delayed. Please sit tight and we'll let you know what's going on as soon as WE know something.

Nobody knew anything. Especially us. So after a series of tense phone calls between me, my step-dad, my mom, and my sister, my heart slowly began to sink into my stomach. Especially when I spoke to my sister, Ashley. See, I was supposed to fly to Dallas - WHERE SHE LIVES - and she was going to hop on Flight 352... SIT NEXT TO ME... and THE TWO OF US were going to fly on to Kansas, where our folks would be waiting to scoop us up.

But things weren't looking up AT ALL. Was I ever gonna get out of there? Was I going to luck out and get on the NEXT flight? Would I EVER see my family again? I mean, it's been more than a YEAR since I last saw them. I miss them, I do!!!

AA DOUCHEBAG: O-kay, Ladies and gentlemen, as far as Flight 352 goes, it looks like we're gonna try and get another plane out by 4pm. The next flight is Flight 3-8-8. But there is NO ROOM ON THAT FLIGHT. I repeat, there is NO ROOM ON THE NEXT FLIGHT, FLIGHT 388. So, whatever you do, DO NOT attempt to book a seat on that flight.

Holy shit. This isn't going to happen! I'M NOT GOING ANYWHERE.

More tense phone calls, more anguish. By the now the gate area was FLOODED with angry travelers. Not just the ones from the now-aborted Flight 352, but also Flight 388 as well!

I headed for the bar, ordered up a Bass Ale, and got on my laptop to distract myself from the mounting frustration. I checked my e-mail. Bing-bong! Oh. An e-mail came in from my America Airlines Flight Alerts:

AMERICAN AIRLINES FLIGHT 352 HAS BEEN CANCELED.

My cell phone rang. It was my step-dad, Thom.

THOM: Jeff.

ME: Yes.

THOM: Your flight's been canceled.

ME: Whoa. I just found out. How'd YOU know?

THOM: I'm on the American Airlines website. But listen, I got you a seat on the NEXT flight. Flight 388.

ME: Are you serious? Cuz the AA Douchebag HERE just said there's no seats on that flight.

THOM: No, no. I got you on. You have a seat. You just have to check-in at the gate.

ME: Are you SURE?

THOM: Yes! You HAVE a seat. Just check-in and the gate and get on that plane.

I slugged my beer, closed my laptop and quickly made my way over to the gate as quickly as I could. By now it was about 3:40 and Flight 388 was leaving at 4pm.

The line was huge. I've never seen so many scowling faces in my life. I was getting closer, but the line was hardly moving. Many were barking ferociously at the AA Douchebag and his now partner-in-crime, AA Witch Face. I said to the lady in front of me, "it's like that episode of 'Seinfeld' where Jerry and Elaine are trying to get a rent-a-car... Jerry says 'Oh, sure, you know how to TAKE the reservation... you just don't know how to KEEP the reservation'". Because it was becoming ALL-TOO-CLEAR that I wasn't getting on Flight 388. THAT fucking flight was fucking BOOKED.

And now it was OVERbooked.

Another plane for Flight 352 never arrived. Four business dudes ahead of the lady ahead of me thought that they, too, had gotten on to Flight 388. You should have witnessed their smugness. And just as soon as they were escorted on the plane... they were promptly escorted OFF the plane.

By now my heart was in my lower intestine. I felt sick and wanted to cry. A terrible silence fell over the gate area as the doors closed and Flight 388 proceeded to back away to the take-off strip. So many people were now so totally screwed.

Things get hazy now, but as I was talking to my step-dad, he began to relay to me that a very threatening winter storm was brewing in the mid-west and it could be that later flights could be delayed and/or canceled. As it was, there were now NO MORE flights out of Burbank. I'd have to somehow make my way down to LAX and take a redeye flight.

ME: Should I just wait?

THOM: Maybe you should just wait.

AA Douchebag and AA Witch Face could not have been more cold and uncaring that about 78 people were now NOT getting to Dallas/Fort Worth. They NEVER even apologized and I was FAR MORE nice and calm to them than most everyone else in that horrible line.

I made a decision based on my chat with my step-dad and got a FULL REFUND from American Airlines. For both the plane ticket AND the $50 they charged me for the overweight luggage. Then they were completely unhelpful in pointing me towards my luggage. I found it, but it was never made easy for me.

I took a cab home.

All hell broke loose that night on the phone with my family over the who-said-what, why-went-this, and which-way-how events of the day. It was awful... and I'm still trying to put it behind me. My folks and my sister were DEVASTATED. Even though my step-dad warned me about the storms, my Mommy was pissed I didn't consult her before demanding a refund. After the way I was treated, I didn't WANT AA to have my money. Then I was evidently accused of not being a "grown-ass man" and making a decision on my ownsome or something. But I DID! Based on my step-dad's warnings about a storm! It was insane.

Whatever. I just hope they know how messed up I was over the whole thing. Seriously, man, I'm still broken-up about it. This is why I try not to leave the house ever anymore. And when I woke up back in my own bed at 3:30am that night, I was, like, "WAIT A MINUTE! WHY THE HELL AREN'T I IN KANSAS RIGHT NOW???".

So now I'm going to re-schedule my trip. Hopefully, in March. And the ONE saving grace of that intensely miserable day at the Bob Hope Burbank Airport? I enjoyed a phenomenal "star sighting" (in MY estimation) around the gate where 388 was loading. Namely, a true hero of animation to me, the curiously brawny John Kricfalusi...

That made it all almost worth it.

Max Channels Tony Soprano...

2008-02-05T10:18:00.000-08:00

In a sudden burst of late-afternoon restlessness, Max channels his all-time favorite fictional character while his wife's away at work...

Quoth The Counselor:

2008-01-30T08:18:00.001-08:00

"I'm like a nihilist. All I believe in anymore is ART and WOMEN."

Photo by Zeke K

2008-01-29T08:07:00.000-08:00

Message from Mia #2:

Mia in the Dark with her Crank Radio:

Mia has a message for you...

2008-01-23T00:39:00.000-08:00

SPECIAL THANKS

2008-01-20T16:16:00.000-08:00

to Zeke K for taking our new publicity shots...

(Click pics to enlarge)

2008-01-16T13:46:00.000-08:00

One For The Books...

2008-01-15T11:56:00.001-08:00

David Surface, my granddad Dick Surface's older brother, featured prominently in our comic docu-portrait "Gramps: Beneath The Surface", passed away today. If you saw it, you haven't forgotten him. This was one man who knew how to rock a cold beer in a black t-shirt.

We remain grateful as hell that he will forever be immortalized in our film. We had so much fun with him.

Max Koch

BOWLER HAT PRODUCTIONS

My Jury Duty (Part 1 of 2) by Max

2008-01-03T09:50:00.001-08:00

The story you are about to read is true. However, certain names have been changed to protect the innocent ...

(CLICK CARTOONS TO ENLARGE)

"Wow, Max... you have to be some kind of idiot not be able to get out of jury duty."

I heard this told to me over and over and over again by people who have not only ever served on a jury, but also don't think twice about discarding the summons whenever one comes to them in the mail. Evidently, they are the enlightened, lucky ones.

"Eh, what's the worst they can do? Just play dumb. Pretend you never got it."

Pretend I never got it? Really? REALLY? I mean, is that really gonna work? On ME? MY luck? (pause) I didn't think so. Nah, man, I'm too fearful of The System, see. I'm certain they're targeting me even NOW somehow, even as I type this. As it is, I'm forced to pay an annual "business tax" to the City of Los Angeles when I'm not even, personally, a business. Every year my accountant pounds her desk when she sees that the business tax bill from the city has come again. There's no escapin' it, my friends. The officials know where I live, they think they know what I am, and they will stop at NOTHING to cause me grief, discomfort and angst. They Will Come For Me. There Will Be Blood.

"Eh, what's the worst they can do? Just don't pay it. Y'know, governments aren't even technically allowed to charge you taxes."

I love these people. I mean, what world are they LIVING in??? I bet these are the same Johns and Marys who're able to sleep upright through the entire duration of a cross-country plane flight. I love 'em... but, WOW, are they able to gnaw on my nerves. Avoid taxes?! Dude, FAMOUS MOVIE STARS DON'T EVEN GET A BREAK ON TAXES!

Talk to me when you've seen Phil Spector's returns. He may get off for murder, but believe you me he's payin' his taxes.

(SIDEBAR: All this tax talk reminds of something I drew back in '03... when the city first came at me for business tax fees and they kept referring to me as "Jeggrey Roch" no matter how many times I corrected them... sheer agony...)

Yup, it's come to this... I'm officially RECYCLING myself:

So at the start of this past December, I called in (after three days of calling in and being excused) and was finally instructed to appear at the City of Burbank court house at 9am on a Tuesday morning to serve my time as a juror. Whether or not I was gonna be chosen for a trial remained to be seen, but I was wrongly optimistic that I would be cut loose early. Only because the last time I'd gone through all this, I was promptly released straight before the four o'clock news.

ME: SON OF A BITCH!!!

NIC: Don't worry, you're not going to have to serve.

ME: Ya think?

NIC: They won't want you.

ME: Thanks a lot.

NIC: Just tell them you're an actor.

ME: Hey! I know! When they ask me what I do for a living, I'll tell them I'm an actor and that'll be that. EVERYBODY hates an actor.

NIC: Help me move the coffee table so I can do my yoga.

So early on a cold Tuesday morning in December, I showed up at the Burbank courthouse at 9am. There was a line around the block to get in to the courthouse. By the time I made it up to security, I was told chain wallets weren't allowed in the courthouse. They also x-rayed my backpack and told me that scissors weren't allowed in the courthouse, either.

SECURITY: Sir, why do you have scissors in your backpack?

ME: Gosh. I dunno. Guess I forgot they were in there.

SECURITY: Well, you need to take the chain from your wallet and the scissors from your backpack and put them in your car or somethin'.

ME: But I just waited a half hour in line to get into the courthouse. I'm parked in the designated garage which is a mile away.

By now, people lined up behind me were getting very angry.

SECURITY: Sir, we need to move the morning along here.

ME: Listen, I assure you I'm not going to strangle you with my chain wallet. I'm being ask to serve on a JURY here. It's not like I have a criminal record.

SECURITY: The law is the law, sir. 9/11? Stash the chain and scissors in the bushes, if you like.

ME: Bushes?

And so I did. I stepped out of line after being out-of-line and stashed the goods as discreetly as I could in the bushes. Then I pissed a woman off by stepping BACK in line, explaining what had happened, and got into the courthouse.

If you've never had to go through this whole "jury duty selection" thing, allow me to explain to you what happens. First you're crammed into a dingy, fluorescent-lit, classroom-type room (with about 60 other mutants) where you wait for an hour for everyone who's been summonsed to show up. 9 out of 10 times people are late, and you're stuck listening to people cough, wheeze, snort, sniff, fart, and gripe about how resentful they are that they have to be there.

Next, you're shown some shitty video made in 1987 about how lucky you are and what a privilege it is to have been chosen for jury duty. Slowly you begin to feel NOT so lucky. After that, some angry minority person (usually female) will hop on some beat-up, old mic system and start barking at you like you're retarded, presenting to you instructions on how to handle the incredible amount of paper work. I mean, they REALLY go out of their way to make you feel stupid.

COURT LADY: NOW! TAKE... THE GREEN FORM! AND TEAR OFF... THE PERFORATED PIECE... WITH YOUR NAME AND ADDRESS ON IT! (These instructions and more will usually be repeated to you six or seven times throughout the morning because no one pays attention except you.)

After even MORE paperwork, you wait three more hours for the court people to process you. Then... more announcements are made.

COURT LADY: OKAY! SO! (cough) Bear with me, please. I'm sick. I shouldn't have even come in today. (cough) OKAY! SO! THERE ARE ONLY... THREE CASES... GOING ON TRIAL... HERE AT THE CITY OF BURBANK! THERE ARE SEVEN CASES... GOING ON TRIAL IN THE CITY OF GLENDALE! WHEN YOUR NAME IS CALLED, YOU WILL HAVE TO REPORT... TO THE CITY OF GLENDALE! I HAVE A MAP HERE FOR YOU! AND VERY SPECIFIC INSTRUCTIONS ON WHERE TO PARK IN THE CITY OF GLENDALE!

Blah, blah, blah, she began to call out the names. She gets to mine.

COURT LADY: JEFF... REY... hm... K... K...

ME: Koch!

COURT LADY: KOCK! JEFFREY KOCK?!

ME: (with a heaving sigh) Present.

COURT LADY: Report to the City of Glendale, Jeffrey Kock.

ME: It's Koch. As in "cook".

Nothing.

I couldn't believe it. By now it was noon and I had to drive to the City of Glendale, park in the Glendale Marketplace parking structure, and LITERALLY hike it seven blocks to the courthouse. There IS no courthouse parking near the actual courthouse. I mean, there were OLD folk with CANES making this long walk, too! The city don't give a damn. The city needs it's jurors.

Another security check. This time I left my murder weapons in the car. Then it was upstairs to ANOTHER dingy, fluorescent-lit, classroom-type room where you are forced to sit and wait ANOTHER two hours while they process you THERE. Then another court lady made an announcement:

COURT LADY: Okay, so... we're a little behind today, people. We thank you for your patience. Go ahead and take your lunch breaks now and be back here in one hour.

Lunch break? Where the hell am I going to eat? What's around here? I don't know Glendale. Where do I go? Anyone? ANYONE.

I hit the street again on foot. I walked all the way BACK to Brand street in Glendale (near the Marketplace parking structure) and settled into this cozy, little, family-owned Japanese joint with cheap lunch specials and unbelievable edamame (boiled soy beans with teriyaki). It was then I made the decision: IF I'M GOING TO GET STUCK ON A TRIAL IN THE CITY OF GLENDALE FOR THE NEXT GOD-KNOWS-HOW-MANY WEEKS, I'M GOING TO EAT AT EVERY DAMN JAPANESE RESTAURANT WITHIN A TWO MILE RADIUS OF THE COURTHOUSE.

And so I did. I really did! Every day I ate Japanese for lunch at different places. For TWO WEEKS! I ate so much Japanese food, slurped up so many cups of miso soup, that I may as well have written my own "Memoirs of a Max Koch Geisha". I know my wife, for a fact, was a little concerned...

Wait. I just revealed prematurely that I DID, in fact, wind up on a jury. Let's go back just a bit...

So after lunch we were all brought into the smallest, most unglamorous courtroom I'd ever seen in my life. This was no "Law and Order". This was "Lame and Awful". It felt more like a STORAGE room for old case files more than anything else. Another court lady had told us that this was going to be the judge's last trial, too. Ol' Judge Scanlan was retiring after about 40 years o' judgin' business.

COURT LADY: All Rise. The honorable Judge Scanlan presiding. Court is in session.

We all rose. Twelve names were called. Five alternates. I was one of the initial twelve names. We took our seats in the jury box. I became Juror no. 8. The judge proceeded to explain to us that now was the time to introduce ourselves to the court. To the plaintiff lawyers and to the defense lawyers, too. As this was a civil case, we were able to reveal our names, our occupations, our marital status, and if we'd ever served on a jury before. We were also then allowed to declare any hardships. In other words, you had to surrender yourself to about four hours of some of the most lame, contrived, bullshit excuses for not being able to serve on a jury that you've ever heard in your life. Some CRAZY ones, too! Case in point, this much-older, Neil Young-lookin' dude who sat to the right of me. Wow, how he played the wack-a-doo card!

Yeah, suffice it to say, the judge excused him.

One chick claimed she was recovering from a cat bite to her thumb. One dude claimed he was dropped on his head as a baby (no joke) and fears he may have mental problems. One older bird begged for mercy because she has terrible gas problems. I mean, this went on and on and on and on.

I was paralyzed. OF COURSE I had a good excuse. I'm a working actor and can only count on MYSELF to make my living. I don't get paid by my employer for time off for jury duty! Hell, no! I'm IT, baby!

But I couldn't. I couldn't! I couldn't sink to the level of these loads! I was EMBARRASSED for them. And for all humanity, for that matter. And so I kept my mouth shut. I mean, the wildly pathetic excuses just kept flying. Especially after we caught wind of what the case was about.

Now, mind you, details of the case were initially relayed to us as cryptically as they could be. We basically got the idea that a young boy riding his skate board in the street with his buddy had been hit by a car. By an alleged drunk driver. We were also warned that we might see some gruesome photographs from the young boy's recovery. Okay. So could Juanita from Sunland handle being a juror on a trial where potentially unsettling snapshots would be displayed on a screen as evidence? Could she be fair and objective... granting an steadfast verdict based SOLELY on the evidence?

Hardly. This selection process was a JOKE.

JUANITA: (after the judge asked her if she felt she could set aside her personal history to be a fair and decent juror) Oh, no! (blubbering) No, Meester Judge! No! I seen my uncle die in a hospital bed! He was shot nine times! I seen him DIE in front of my faces! (now wailing) THE BLOOD!!! THE BLOOD!!! PLEASE!!! NO!!! LET ME GO!!! I MUST GO!!!

Juanita was excused. I'm not exaggerating, this went on for HOURS. There are SO MANY SORRY ASSHOLES in this world.

When the judge got around to this cranky old dentist dude, he stood up and declared his position to all of us.

JUDGE: So, sir... is there any reason you think YOU couldn't serve on this jury? To deliver a fair and non-biased verdict based solely on the evidence?

OLD CRANKY DENTIST: No, your honor. I couldn't. Absolutely not.

JUDGE: And why do you think this is?

OLD CRANKY DENTIST: Cuz I HATE these little skate board punks! I see how they ride! I see how they defy the rules! HOW THEY SPIT IN THE FACE OF ALL THAT IS DECENT!!!

The judge let him go.

After more weeding out of potential jurors, it was down to the final twenty or so. Talk about sidebars. At least THREE separate pains-in-the-asses called sidebars with the judge and lawyers... to spew forth excuses that were clearly too private or excruciating for them to simply reveal before the rest of us. Like we would EVER see each other again. But behind-closed-doors they went. It was SO annoying and drawn-out. Yeah, I have to say, the selection days were seriously two of the longest, most hateful days of my life spent thus far.

And I want them back.

On Day 2, I was asked by the plaintiff lawyer if I had any problem with the LAPD. I couldn't help but be honest about my feelings, as I was under oath.

ME: Well. That's a toughie. My dad was a cop who was killed before I was born. My stepdad was a reserve officer for the San Fernando Police Department. So I was always sorta predisposed to have a deep respect and appreciation for good, honest cops. But I have to say... I was in a pretty terrible hit-and-run accident back in October... one that I'm still suffering some pretty bad lower back pain from - not complaining, mind you - and the LAPD has been anything BUT helpful. All I want is to know if they went after the maniac who ran through the intersection, totaled my car, messed up my friends and me, and drove off into the night swerving all over the road. All I wanna know is if they caught the guy. That's it! But I can't get an amen. I call the police, they can't be bothered. I e-mail the cop who asked for pics from the scene? I get no response. What the heck??? It's really been a let-down. I'm not even planning on wasting anyone's time by suing the jerk. I just wanna know he's off the streets.

Silence. And I mean PALPABLE. I thought, "hey, maybe I did it! By bitching about the LAPD, maybe I've guaranteed my swift release!". No deal. My little speech must have backfired and worked in my FAVOR! Why didn't I keep my MOUTH SHUT?? What was I THINKING?!?

An hour later, every one else was let go and the final 12 jurors and two alternates was decided. Testimony would commence the next morning. We were told that the trial could last for up to three weeks. We were told that we would break for Christmas, if it did. We were told to speak to no one about the case, and we were told to make no judgments or final verdicts UNTIL we'd seen and heard all the evidence.

I couldn't BELIEVE this was my life now. I had plans! I had my days mapped! I had OBLIGATIONS!

No more. I was the idiot now. I was the idiot who failed to get himself out of jury duty.

I leave you with this: Judge Scanlan was a TRIP!!! This dude spoke so slowly, with such precision, with such careful scrutiny on his every thought... that you couldn't help but hang on by his every word. And ALWAYS with a little smirk, too, when he would address We, The Jury. He had a tremendous sense of dry humor. And best of all, he would NOD OFF CONSTANTLY! I'm serious. And it was the EXACT SAME series of expressions every time! It was the drift-off first... followed by the full-bore snooze... followed by the sudden pop-awake... and always resolved by the slow head turn with the sly, stoned-out grin to us... like WE'D just caught him in the act or something, when, in fact, we were too busy paying attention to the testimonies. Hilarious.

So just to review the order... it was:

1. The drift-off.
2. The full-bore snooze.
3. The pop-awake.

and finally

4. The head turn to us with the sly, stoned-out grin.

You know what? Allow me to illustrate further!

NEXT WEEK: The trial itself...