The Best Film Review EVER.

Move. Over. Ebert. Seriously.

New Favorite Word

Hi kids! Anytime you hear this word today, scream really loud. My new favorite word for the day is: Niggled.

Niggle: "To annoy."

Had anyone else heard of this word? I saw it recently in a news article about Stonehenge, of all things. I have some theories as to why it might have gone out of style. However, I like it. "Shut your yapper. You're niggling the crap out of me."

Okay, I just tried it in a couple more sentences. Nevermind. I discovered that it was ever-so easy to add a lisp. Just doesn't cut it in the ole' American dialect, unless of course, you are a man who drinks tea with a raised pinkie. However, it works just fine if you use a British or Irish accent. Dang those Brits. They get all the good words. Like "Brilliant," and "Tally Ho!" and "Throw some shrimp on the Barbie!" and "Mermaid off the port bow!" and most importantly, "Not this time, Potter!"

Now, be honest, how many of you just tried "Niggle" out with one of the three: lisp, British accent or Irish accent? And which works best?

A Waaaaaay Better Alternative than the Combover

When I'm sixty-four, this shall be grafted upon my scalp. And so it shall be done. Thank you to our friend Verlie Payne for this picture.

Song Trivia

What song begins with the lyric:

"Your butt is mine."

Now You See Me...

Sorry folks for the scant bloggin'. I've been hard at work on my buddy Carey's CD project. I'm trying to have it finished by tomorrow but it looks like it will be next monday or tuesday until it is ready for the final mix in Houston. New pro software has better drum sounds so I've been going through each song and replacing the old with the new. (Sorry Carey!)

In other news, it is been pretty chilly up here in the City but beautiful all the same. I am incredibly sleepy and it is time for bed.

I've pretty much been in the apartment for 6 days straight so tomorrow I think I might try to grab the wife and head to the Metropolitan Museum or something.

Oh, I read an article yesterday about how some people are thinking about begging Al Gore to run for president and then Gore could take Obama as his running mate. I don't know about you guys, but I just might be up for that! Al's been growing on me lately. But then again, me no political guru. Me watch T.V. and believe what I am told, like a good American.

What would you say to a Gore/Obama ticket?

While you ponder, I hope you enjoy the random comb-over photo.

Oh my Yummy.

I have discovered Apple Juice as it was meant to be. Most times, I drink apple Juice on rare occasions. Don't get me wrong, I like it. But to buy it, I definitely have to be in the mood or feeling guilty about some big food debauchery I'm getting at a convenient store consisting of a large hot dog slathered with chili and cheese. (I've come to believe that getting food at the Git-n-Go gas station is the equivalent of getting a porno at the xxx outside of town.)

But no longer will I think of apple juice as a drink to ease my conscience. I could drink this stuff for breakfast, lunch and dinner and a midnight snack! (along with a couple of Zantac.) YUM. It is sweet as nectar and ... I don't know. Just, YUM! I feel like a little kid selling lemonade!

Only catch is, it's hard to find. I think you may have to order it. But you can!

Anywho, if you see this stuff, give it a try. It could quite possibly be the apple juice Adam and Eve sipped on that got them evicted from the Garden.


Do you guys have a favorite drink?

Dumb and Fun

We saw Caveheart... I mean, 10,000 B.C. last weekend. It was dumb and fun. Most of the time I rolled my eyes and wanted to say the word "ignert" every other spoken line, but there were moments where I thought... weeeell, whataya gonna do? How can you take a movie seriously that defies all science and gives ancient people refined english with a Transylvania accents. Also, I guess to be primitive, you've got to have dread-locks, dirty faces and ultra clean teeth. Because, you know, back then, tartar control wasn't a problem. Just ask the English. Oh, and they must have names like "Tick Tick." Did anyone stop to think that that just might resemble a little known cartoon cave baby? Give you a hint... BAM BAM. WILLLLLLMAAAAAA!

Okay, I can't resist. I've gotta list the dumb stuff, in no special order.

The fake blue eyes on the main chick... the goofy prophesies throughout... the goofy "old wise woman" prophet/narrator... the bizarre, ever-shifting accents in the same tribe (as if the director just said, "make it sound cave-ish. ACTION!")... the part where the hero lets the big hungry Saber-toothed tiger go and makes friends with him -Ala the Black Stallion... the whole first 45 minutes looked like it was filmed in my back yard in Springfield with a crappy green-screen ... the whole tribe-leader "white spear" thing... that bone-spear just didn't look very effective... they COMPlETELY ripped off The Edge (Anthony Hopkins, Aleck Baldwin and the Bear) with the spear-killing-Wooly Mammoth scene... the predictable prophesies from the old tribal prophet- let me guess, "one will come and lead the poor Flinstone tribe to freedom"... the Goofy prophet-woman spirit swap at the end with the chick with the blue eyes...

Okay, I'll stop there.

Verdict: So dumb. It was so dumb I forgot to bring my Madonna-genius doll and give it an I.Q. test. BUT, alas, it's so dumb that it's likable. It had Woolly Mammoths charging down a pyramid for crying out loud. Who can't like that? btw, did you just see the words "a pyramid?" Yes, yes, you did. The movie historian wunderkinds behind the scenes most surely flunked anthropology, geology, and um ... math. Try 3000 B.C. fellas. Let me introduce you to a little thing called "Wikipedia." And even at 3000 wasn't anything special as far as pyramids went. It was pretty ghetto and hardly big enough to stampede a bunch of Mammoths down it.

I saw so many elements from epic movies it was ridic. You had: Braveheart (the quintessential caveman "You are free cavemen!" speech) Dances with Wolves (the whole waiting to hunt the sparse Mammoths thing) Apocalypto (captured wife, being chased in the Jungle)... Jurassic Park 2 with the Raptors snacking on dudes in the long grass. Except in Caveheart they were big ugly ostrich things. But hey, it was cool anyway. The list could go on, even into Cinematic classics such as Legends of the Falls- itself a cinematic masterpiece rivaled only by this.

So, I say, see it. But see it for the saber-tooth and the Mammoths... however, the Mammoths in LOTR were off the hook a bazillion times cooler. Still, it was fun enough to buy a bucket of popcorn and slurp up a gallon of coke next to Fancypants. Maybe I could compare it to the old creature-features. They were dumb, campy and fun, as was 10,000 B.C.

To borrow Popcorn's rating scale I'd give it a 2 1/2 out of 5 popcorn kernels on the fun summer movie scale, even though it ain't summer yet.

Otherwise, I'd give it a B--- on a creature-feature curve, up from D+.

Just Chillin and Watchin' the Wheel: Yes, we moved to NYC to be old.

It's a rainy evening here in the city. Amber cooked up a pot of instant organic butternut squash soup. It was nasty. We both agreed. Not her fault though. The Campbells box version is actually quite tasty. Something happened in the box-organic version. How the heck were we supposed to know that? Huh? Verdict: Campbells=tasty, organic version=gagalicious. (Sorry subscribers. I finally broke down and looked up the actual spelling of Campbells.)

We watched a bunch of American Idol contestants butcher some of my favorite Beatles songs last night. All I could say the whole time was, "thank you Micheal Jackson." If it wasn't for Peter-Pan-grilled-cheese-nose-captain-molesto Jackson, the Beatles library would still be preserved and the only version of Here Comes the Sun that anyone would know would be the one that George Harrison immortalized, not while a bunch of animated bees fly around or while several skinny people jump around or while Crystal Light is being poured, however artfully, on a Target commercial.

To me, hearing someone sing a Beatles cover poorly is akin to the poor soul who has to endure listening to their Dad's new blonde bimbo wife trying to talk motherly to them even though Dad's new bimbo wife is one year their junior.

It just gets under my skin like nobody's business. However I did hear a few of the young hopefuls do a good job on a Beatles cover. Well, actually it was a cover of a Whitesnake cover of a Beatles tune.

Aussie Grape Jelly Spray

I've grown really tired of buying unbelievably expensive hair products. So what did I do? I bought myself some Aussie spritzer or whatever. The result: For the past two days my head has smelled liked one big grape-jelly-slathered piece of toast. When I get into an elevator, it fills the room with that sharp Smuckers aroma worse than the most potent coconut suntan lotion. I can even smell it at the Strarbucks. Amber could smell my jelly head from across the table, which means that the stench could even cut through the powerhouse aroma of her double-tall skim, carmel machiato. The power of jelly head is truly incredible.

Well, back to the expensive crap it is. I tried.

Me and My iphone.

I've got a new fun blog. I've been taking pictures like a madman since I and my beloved were united at Christmas and I thought I'd share at "theworldthroughmyiphone.blogspot.com" A tad boring for a title but I was more interested in getting down to the uploading of the pics. New York City is probably the most photographed city in the world but it ain't been seen through my iphone yet, so there!


Hope you enjoy!

All day long I'd biddy biddy YUM!

Well, the feast has ceased. My wonderful inlaws have left... which means, tonight, I begin gathering berries and mushrooms and poaching wild squirrels in central park again. It's some tricky business firing a weapon in such a populated park. But I've found that singing Broadway songs and reenacting the battle of the bulge whilst I shoot gives me enough credibility to not get arrested. It is a little annoying when the homeless guys try to get in on the action. Some don't know when to stop. (Btw, why hasn't there ever been a Ballet written about the Battle of the Bulge? Get it? Buuuuulge? HA! I crack me-self right up. Somewhere in a house in Springfield Missouri my mother is rolling her eyes, shaking here head, and saying, "Son, was that joke necessary?")

I gots to tell you though, that Broadway civil war reenacting really brings "singing for your dinner" to a whole different level. Ahhh how I miss the days of living in the Ozark Mountains when I would simply grab my musket, dress in suede leather and a raccoon cap and bring home the fatted buck, duck or occasional ferret to my hungry and thankful family. Those were the days, let me tell ya.

In other news... I've been pretty in to American Idol this year... I was really bummed to see Kady Alexis Mall...oy... get... oust...ed...

I'm sorry, I really wish I could leave the subject of food but I just can't. I've just never had food that incredible. I mean, Houston has its share of fine eateries. There is a real reason it is always duking-it-out with Phillie for the The Fattest City Award. And interestingly, in Houston, the food in the expensive places isn't much better than the food in the medium expensive places and after you finished your extra expensive meal you always find yourself saying "hey, that wasn't any better than Carabas."

Not so in NYC. Unfortunately, for the Troubawards, the price of the food up here is directly proportionally to the level of taste explosion. And God bless the brick oven. Why in the heck does anyone cook anything outside of a brick oven. I took one bite of the hummus and bread toasted in the brick oven and I almost started speaking in tongues. If I wasn't so worried about it burning my lips, I would have french kissed the brick oven goodbye on the way out.

Okay, let it go. Seth. Let it go. Squirrel isn't so bad. And some of those mushrooms... well, the trial and error there can get pretty AWESOME. And strange as it may seem, they really make that civil war reenactment seem more real. A little too real at times, honestly.

(To be sung at the end of your reading.)

"Lord who made the lion and the lamb,
You decreed I should be what I am.
Would it spoil some vast eternal plan?
If I were a wealthy maaaaaaaaaan."

Pleas Sir, Can I Have Some More?

Man have I been eating good lately. Like a king... with bad grammar. When ma and pa Evans return to Tulsa, I'm going to have a hard time adjusting to the Mcdonalds dollar menu. For instance, I ate the quiche of my life today. Last night I had the best steak imaginable. The cow that provided my dinner must have been just downright sexy. Weird.

The point is, I no longer need a belt. But who cares? Belts are overrated.

However, starting Friday, I will be going on a diet of Metamucil and bran. Not even raisin bran. Just bran. Maybe even some Amber tea. Basically things that will turn my intestines into the trombone section of Mahler's seventh symphony.

Hey, maybe I could slap a couple of scriptures on each daily dose and sell it to Christians. I could call the... Hallepoojah diet.


Thank you, thank you. I'll be here all night.

Phrase and Fable

I am fascinated by words. When I was a kid, I used to grab an encyclopedia or a dictionary on my way to the bathroom and read until my legs were numb. A few weeks ago, I bought this book called Phrase and Fable and it is one good little read. It is a little encyclopedia of phrases and their origins. Just this morning I discovered the origin of "Spitting image." I had always wondered what the heck that term meant. I tried to imagine someone spitting on a mirror and cleaning it, or some kind of reference to Jesus spitting in the dirt, (back in my more pious days) or one of those old arabic phrases that make no sense, even to the arab... like the ones about camels and coconuts and Muhammad... but now, mystery solved.

According to Phrase and Fable, "Spitting image: the term is recorded from the early 20th century, and is an alteration of spitten image, which itself is an alteration of split and image.

Free the mind. That's my job. Until next time. Eat your veggies. Say your prayers and change your huggies in the morning, children of the Lord.

(Got any others that don't make a lick of sense?)

Suitcases Filled with Elves

Does anyone else but me ever notice how the first hundred or so suitcases that come meandering out of the black flappers are never taken? No one ever touches the first slew of suitcases. So, either the first suitcases are simply props used to tick off anxiously awaiting, tired and late passengers, or they are filled with elves. Why not elves? It is just a plausible as any other solution.

I don't know. Just seems fishy. If not elves then it is just downright unfair that the people who get to the baggage claim first and are anxious to get their bags and catch a bus to everliving train station are NEVER the people who get their luggage first. Nooo Sir. When the first fifty bags snaked their way around the 20 or so passengers, who was the first soul to pull a bag off the trolly-thing? An old grumpy buzzard in a wheel chair, fifteen minutes AFTER the buzzer buzzed and the baggage thingermerbob started to move.

Houston Fun, and Finally a Word About a Good Friend.

It looks like today will by my last day in H-town. It has been a fantastic trip. I'm pretty sure that I passed my German test; today I will finish recording vocals on my good friend Carrie's project; I saw my wife sing a heartbreakingly beautiful performance as Belle in a 1st class production of Beauty and the Beast (a BIG blog coming about that experience...); we sang at our home church, AND we got to spend a bunch of quality time with people that we love. To top it off, I missed the big-arse snow storm that blew threw New York only to catch the most beautiful weather in the history of Houston Texas. If it weren't for the traffic, I wouldn't have thought it was Houston at all. There is nothing quite like the Houston Traffic. I think that it is the only thing in the world that can make a good Christian burst into ecstatic sentences comprised entirely of the most forbidden cuss word. (You know the one.) Adjectives, Nouns, Verbs, Prepositional Phrases and Gerunds... amazing. It is darn near Shakespearian how that word can be unsheathed in Houston traffic. Also the middle finger is in a constant state of flux while traversing the steel Gauntlet, otherwise known as 610. Okay, PG-13 part is over, but ye without sin cast the first hubcap. Yeah, you know.

But even that is good for me. It clears out the hidden anger. Nothing like an unfamiliar stress to shine a light on things that you didn't know were there.

Now, on to the spirchal, touch-feely talk.

I need to take a moment to express how truly grateful I am for the friends we have here in Houston. I've said it before but I'll say it again, our Church in Sugarland is just amazing. We wouldn't be anywhere close to where we are today (in a place where we feel confident to persue our dreams,) if it were not for the people, our friends and family at Williams Trace Baptist Church. It is an interesting Church on many, many levels. On the surface it looks like a normal, upper-middle class to wealthy, giant, perfect-family church. But the more you get to know the people the more you realize that the majority of them know what it means to be wounded, and humbled, and broken. It is a church filled to the brim with Grace. Half the church is divorced and remarried. Not that that is encouraged, but the people there certainly know what it means to be wounded and the cost of forgivness. It is a church of new beginnings and hope. That has a lot to do with Phil, our Pastor but it also has just as much and more do with the people.

I have mentioned the Holztmans on several occasions, a family that feels like our own, and someday I am going to spend a bunch of blog time talking about all the people at our church that have blessed us with their friendship, but today I want to say a little about someone that deserves a great big thank you and has always wanted to stay out of the Blog world.

Greg Stahl is the music minister at Williams Trace Baptist Church. He is a gifted musician and minster on many, many levels and can sing a high B-flat like Pavoratti, but what I feel the need to express most, is gratitude for him being a boss that was tremendously encouraging to Amber and I, and especially to me. (Me because I worked there the longest.) The whole time I worked there, Greg always emphasized my strengths and was amazingly encouraging and understanding of the other passions that I had and also very understanding of my commitment to finish my degree. When I bombed by first final exams he was there with a hug (a manly hug, ahem.) and an encouraging word. And a few years later, when Amber and I told him of our plans to leave and pursue our dreams he was not angry or hurt, instead he gave us the best encouragement at the right time and shared personal testimony that gave us just a truckload of hope.

For a long time I had a real guilt complex about being a "minister" in a church. I grew up feeling that I needed to somehow "give up" my passions, talents and dreams for God in exchange for something that I wasn't fully passionate about. (You are a "minister" in anything you do if you are a Christian.) I realized the fallacy in that thinking during conversation with Greg in his office. Amber and I were busy finishing our second CD and honestly, during the recording bliss I got a little caught up in the project and began to neglect the practicing on the Anthems for Sunday. Greg, after listening to me relive a fantastic day in the studio, in a very kind and understanding tone said this:

Greg: "Seth, that sounds terrific. I can see that writing music and being a creative writer is your passion. That is your true life's passion, am I right?"

Me: I thought for a moment. "Yes, yes it is." He didn't realize it but that was breakthrough statement for me.

Greg: "Well, I think that is just wonderful, and I look forward to seeing all that God has planned for you and Amber in the years to come, and I have no doubt that you will go far and make a big statement in whatever you do and be a big blessing to others with all those dreams. But right now, this Choir and this program at WTBC is what I'm passionate about. "This," he said pointing to the anthem on his desk, "is my passion, and while you are still working here I need you to be careful and focus a little harder on practicing the Anthem for next week." That may have sounded tense in the writing but it was very kind and in understanding tone. However, the point and needed correction was taken. We laughed and I agreed that my performance the previous night at choir practice had left much to be desired. It was less than my best and we both knew it.

In that conversation he reminded me of two things: First, that whatever I do, it should be excellent, even if it isn't my "lay-awake-at-night" dream. I knew that, but had lost sight of it for a moment, being caught up in the moment. Second, he gave me a new insight in that there are actually people that don't do the full-time-church-minister ministry out of guilt, (that sounds funny, but it was a real misconception on my part and a long story for another blog series.) They do it because they are passionate about it, like I am passionate about creating. It was incredibly liberating and I began a new journey into experiencing Grace on a new level. For that among other things, I am eternally grateful.

I've never met a person who loves what he does more that Greg Stahl and when he is standing in front of his Choir, he is right at home. Just like it is for me when I am making something up out of the clear blue, whether music, stories, or film.

So here it is, finally, a big fat thank you to Greg Stahl. Thank you, Greg for encouraging Amber and I to pursue our dreams and at the same time plugging us in to a local Body, at the best darn Church EVER I might add, and for using us in the ways that emphasized and developed the gifts that God has given us. I am blessed to be your friend and to have worked for you.

(This is a long overdue thanks, but a long time ago, when I worked for him, Greg had requested that he remain out of the Blog world. Well, TO BAD!)