If you read my previous post in its entirety, then you are:

a) a glutton for punishment

b) a good, good person and friend who is worthy of much praise

c) thoroughly entitled to the true-er version of the story

d) all of the above.

And if you didn’t read my previous post then this whole story is new to you, although, really!  Don’t be rude.  Go back and read it.  Go ahead.  Go now! I’ll wait.

So Aisha Tyler and I are not really BFFs and in fact she probably won’t remember me the next time she sees me, and there will be a next time.  But she might.  Since I’ve changed my twitter profile picture to the picture she and I took together every time she reads one of my tweets she should get a look at me.

I’ve been a fan of Aisha’s since she was on Friends and there’s really no explanation for my fandom since then other than she just is damn funny!  The first time I saw Aisha perform live she was very relatable and though I did not go and talk to her after that show I did observe her talking to others for a moment on the way out and she was just very gracious and kind to everyone.

Anyway, it’s true that Michelle and I went to see Aisha Tyler at Cobb’s Comedy Club in San Francisco, a year or so ago and had a chance to talk to her after the show.  She told us that she left Ghost Whisperer because she had some other big projects coming up in the following year and there just wasn’t enough time for it all.  We told her we missed Andrea, but we were glad Aisha left for good reasons.

I bought a copy of her book Swerve: Reckless Observations of a Postmodern Girl and as a result of our conversation she wrote the inscription shown here:

“Kevin!,

Your shirt Rules!

Andre Says ‘hi’ from the great beyond… (SF)

Aisha Tyler”

She was very sweet, as always, and Michelle and I walked back to the car talking and laughing about the show.  I looked again at the inscription on the page and I thought, “Your shirt rules!”  When I’m 60 and senile, I’m not going to have any idea what that means.  I should have had a picture taken with her to keep with the book.

A couple moths ago, when I discovered Twitter, it didn’t take me long to start searching for celebrities and along the way I found Aisha Tyler.  It was clear it was really her and not someone impersonating her, and (probably) not a “ghost tweeter”.  I followed her and she truly was one of the first celebs to follow me back.  She was the first celeb to reply to something I said to her.

We have tweeted about Lost and…  Well, she’s tweeted about Quantum Mechanics, Video Games and Date Shakes, and I’ve made lame attempts at dialoging with her on subjects about which I know nothing.  I pestered her relentlessly (for a day or two) about getting her music video Nowassitall in an iTunes compatible format.  I had no problem finding a downloadable version of Aisha Tyler is Lit: Live at the Filmore, but I had purchased the DVD and only wanted the music video on my iPhone.  Still haven’t figured this one out so if anyone can tell me how to get just the music video, please send me an e-mail!

When she announced her San Francisco Tour dates she also offered a contest to win a couple tickets and she sent me a direct message on Tuesday to inform me that I had in fact won tickets to the show.  I did not know until arriving at the club that there were reserved seats for us as well.

Michelle and her sister, Monique, came to the show with me.  Neither of them tweets and so they don’t understand the twitter phenomenon.  So when I said “My friend Aisha Tyler gave me two tickets to her show on Thursday,” they laughed at me.  They said they wanted me to introduce them to “my friend Aisha Tyler”… So I did.

We waited till the crowd had thinned and the line was dwindling and we got ready to go talk to her.  I pulled out my iPhone to ready my profile picture, that of my cat Mischa. We ended up being in line behind a very drunk couple where the wife was determined to ask Aisha, “What is the swirly thing?” and it was a testament to Aisha’s graciousness when she simply smiled at the woman and said, “You know what the swirly thing is!”  If you don’t know about “the swirly thing” you must immediately acquire a copy of Aisha Tyler Is Lit: Live at the Filmore, watch it, love it, lather, rinse and repeat!

When the drunk couple left and we were next up, I walked up to the table and said to her, “Aisha, my two lady friends here have asked me to introduce them to you, because they do not believe that you and are close personal friends.”

Without missing a beat, she turned to Michelle and Monique and said, “Oh yeah!  We go way back!”  See?!? Totally gracious!  No idea what I was talking about but played along and acted the part!

I proceeded.  “See we are friends of sorts.  On Twitter anyway,” and then I showed her the picture of the cat and without hesitation she said, “Oh!  Riggledo!” and I must say her enthusiasm seemed to be honest and genuine!  Even if the enthusiasm was acted, I did not identify myself to her, so she genuinely recognized the picture!

I told her how much I appreciated her picking me and she said that with all the tweets we’d exchanged she couldn’t not pick me.  And then she turned to my friends and said, “He’s been so excited.  He’s been on the computer all day saying ‘five hours till Aisha Tyler’, ‘four hours till Aisha Tyler.’ I was like, ‘Do I need extra security?’”  She then said, “It’s kinda funny, and don’t take this the wrong way, but because your picture was a cat, I thought you were a girl for a while.”
I told her it was because I didn’t photograph well and I didn’t have any good pictures to post and promised that I’d replace the picture (which I did today,) with our picture.  And that’s when I read the inscription on the DVD cover she’d signed for me.

“Riggledo-

What’s up with the kitty kat?

Aisha Tyler

Tweet me!”

Hee hee.  That sounds dirty!  Anyway, moving right along!

The last thing was that I made a point of wearing the same shirt so that I could have my picture taken with her to take care of that pesky 60 years old and senile problem!

So you see, it’s true!  Aisha Tyler is my close, personal – Well, we’ve met a couple times and I think I can safely and fairly call her “friend”

Thanks for reading.  No clean up required this time around!

It might be a good idea to put down a drop cloth and have a broom and dust pan standing by, ‘cause I’m about to do some big-time name dropping!

Well, OK, actually, I’m only going to drop one name, Aisha Tyler, but I’m going to do it a whole lot and there is about to be a whole pile of Aisha Tyler droppings on this here floor.  Wait!  That doesn’t sound right…

So Aisha Tyler is my new BFF and I have the photograph to prove it.  See…

This, by the way is also the moment I start a new diet.  Holy shit that man’s fat!  Anyway, Aisha Tyler is my new best friend and you probably don’t believe me so I shall now commence providing the overwhelming proof of what I am telling you.

A year or so ago I had a chat with Aisha Tyler after one of Aisha Tyler’s shows at Cobb’s Comedy Club in San Francisco.  We talked about Aisha Tyler’s time on Ghost Whisperer and why Aisha Tyler left after the first season and what Aisha Tyler had coming up.

I got a personal hand written note from Aisha Tyler, showing here:

The shirt to which Aisha Tyler’s note refers:

Aisha Tyler and I routinely exchange messages about various things, like “Lost”:

I spent the better part of an hour and a half this afternoon writing a new blog post.  The topic was from the list of things I mentioned last week might be forth-coming, “Summer vacation plans (possibly from hell)”.  About two and a half pages in, I suddenly realized it wasn’t relevant.  The part that would have made it “from hell” isn’t happening and the vacation should be nice, at least mostly.

In July I’ll be flying to upstate New York (my first time when old enough to remember) to visit my sister, her husband and their two daughters.  The trip is, ostensibly centered around going to a family reunion near Buffalo.  The family is that of my paternal grandfather and his siblings descendants.  “Papa” was the seventh of eight children and had a lot of nieces and nephews who in turn had a lot of children.  There will be a multitude of Riggses at this event and I will know only a very small handful of them.  This is not my idea of a good time but it will only be one afternoon, and it was the impetus that was needed for me to fly across the country and visit my sister ET. AL.  It also gives my father the excuse he needs to come back to Albany where Erin lives and spend a few days with us sans step-monster, something that never happens.

So the trip should be fun.  I haven’t seen my nieces in three years and I know they will have changed considerably in that time.  Just as importantly though, it has given me an excuse to take two weeks off work and that is always good.  It’s good to have something to look forward to.

So, I had written this whole drawn out thing (if you read me with any regularity, you know that brevity is not really my friend) about my family dynamic and what this trip was going to mean and how stressful it had the potential to be and then I remembered!  “Wait a minute!  No!  It’s not!  It’s going to be awesome!!!”  So you’re in luck today, dear reader.  You’re getting a brief post without a lot of grumbling which is what I really prefer to give you anyway.

So I’ve written a post today, which, sadly, is all I’ve written so far today.  It’s practically five o’clock and I get to go home soon.  Everybody wins!

I started writing something this week that, for the first time, actually feels like it might have genuine potential to someday morph into, dare I say it out loud, a novel.  I’m actually really excited about it and wish I could spend every minute on it.  Should be interesting.  So far I have one and a half chapters, but the ideas keep flowing and the direction seems clear (for now) so I hope it turns into something great.  I’ve been told by multiple family members that writing is my gift and that I should pursue it.  I’ve just never listened.  But I’m starting to come around and I have high hopes!

I have always had an aversion to holidays that “celebrate” feelings for a particular person.  Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, Valentine’s Day, the whole lot!   I’ve never understood the drive to pick a day to show your love to someone.  If you love someone why not show them that love everyday?  It is for this reason that I find gift giving so difficult for occasions like Mother’s Day.  I usually do if the money is there but it is often with some bregrudgement.

When I was in high school, my junior and senior years my school choir went on a week-end trip to a choral competition the week-end of mother’s day and so in order to make up for my absence (which was usually a relief) I sent flowers to my mother.  After I graduated I felt like I had to continue the tradition, mostly because it had been established and I had to continue it, right?

Over the years, I have usually been the only of my mother’s children to acknowledge Mother’s Day.  It’s only been the last year or two (or three) that I’ve been unable, financially speaking, to keep up my streak.  It’s also been the last several years that my  relationship with my mother has changed.  You see, a few years ago my mother and I had a bit of a falling out.  I love my mother, and that will never change, but the closeness we once had, no longer exists.  The details are a story for another time, but suffice it to say that I do not feel the obligation, or the gratitude that I once did and it is for this reason that I became angry when I received the following two e-mails from my mother’s boss/close friend.  The first arrived yesterday afternoon:

Dear Kevin,

Hope you are doing well.  I think of you so often and call you blessed!  We will always be glad to have you back here in Tulsa if you get tired of San Francisco.

I am writing to you and your siblings to ask each of you to send flowers and a loving card to your Mom for Mothers Day next Sunday.  I know this would really minister to her.  She does not know I am writing to you.

I think you usually do anyway, but if all of you made an extra effort this year it would really uplift her.  She stuck by all of you no matter how tough it got and raised you to know Jesus and the Word.  That was a supreme effort and she loves you all so much.

Thanks!  Love,

[Name removed]

Next Sunday is Mother’s Day

That annoyed me enough on its own, but then today I received this:

Dear Kevin,

Hope you are doing well.  Think of you so often and declare you blessed!

Next Sunday is Mothers Day, I am asking you to send flowers and a loving, appreciative card to your Mom.  She could really use that reminder this year that she is loved and remembered.

She is the one that stuck with all of you no matter how tough things were and taught you the Word.  Sometimes we all need to go
all out to express our love and thanks.

Love you,

[Name Removed]

This woman doesn’t know half of the real truth about our lives growing up with this woman for our mother, and it is for this reason that I don’t appreciate the final sentences in both e-mails, which, I think, steps beyond a recommendation or encouragement and into the realm of pure and simple guilt tactics.  This is having the opposite of the desired effect and is instead making me want to refuse to do anything at all.

The truth is I don’t think my mother would be particularly pleased to know that her friend had done this, and if I were just a little more evil, I would forward the e-mails to my mother so that she would find out and be angry at her friend.  Fortunately, I am not actually that vindictive.  So instead, I’m going to sit here like an impotent jerk and fume about the whole blasted thing on my own and have no idea what to do for a gift.

I guess the moral of this lame story is to say that if you have people in your life that you love, don’t wait for a special day to let them know it and don’t make a big deal out of the commercial days designed, in theory, to show your love and appreciation for the person, but mostly just to sell cards and gifts.

Oh! And also?  Stay out of other people’s business!  It doesn’t endear you to them in anyway.  Just sayin’!

This has seemed at once the longest, and the shortest week-end in quite some time.  I stayed up Friday night till nearly 2:00 in the morning watching television only to sleep till about noon-thirty on Saturday.  I hate sleeping late on the week-ends because the day goes by so quickly when I do, but I also love sleeping late on the week-ends because it just feels so damn good!  Also because I slept so late, I didn’t do anything of any value whatsoever yesterday and I definitely don’t like that.

I was determined that today would be more productive and so even though I stayed up till nearly 1:30 in the morning again last night and even though I really didn’t feel like doing anything of any value again today, I forced myself out of bed at 10:30 this morning (still later than I would have preferred to have slept) and I took a shower and headed out.

Having not eaten since about 7:30 last night I went first to Arby’s, where I got a Medium roast beef and a Jamocha shake.  When I was young I used to love Arby’s and as I’ve aged that hasn’t changed, only they’re harder and harder to come by anymore.  There is one not far from the Target where I generally shop and I go there periodically when doing my Target shopping but lately their shake machine has been out of service.  Today I walked in and there the nefarious machine sat in all its functional glory!  After chowing down on my sandwich and shake I went on to Target to do my shopping, went on to CostCo for gas, and then to Lucky’s for some groceries.

It was at Lukcy’s that I saw something which, in my mind, defies explanation.  I came out of the produce section ready to go check out when a woman stepped, and I use that term loosely, into my path causing me to have to stop short.  Having stopped short I also had an opportunity to observe her.

This woman stood, or should I say, wobbled, in front of me as she looked at the aisle signs trying to determine where to find whatever item she was looking for.  She stood there wearing a dress with diagonal stripes of the brown family, each stripe about four inches wide and meeting at points before diagonally striping back down the other side.  The dress was reminiscent in my eyes of something from the 70’s (I imagine) and might have looked lovely on the right woman, with the right amount and placement of curves, but this woman had too many and in the wrong places and the dress did nothing to conceal or augment them.

But what really caught my attention was the boots.  This was not a woman of the vertically challenged variety to begin with but she was wearing pirates boots, with four inch heals that looked as if they were made of swizzle sticks.  She was in a state of perpetual motion as she didn’t seem capable of standing up-right and still on these heals.  As I walked past her I looked down to see that she was at no time standing directly on the heals but rather was constantly trying to regain her balance as the heals tilted to one side or the other.

I walked away, went to the self-check out where I proceeded to pay for my items and went out to my car to unload my cart and drive home.  As I was climbing into the driver’s seat of my SUV I looked up to see the same woman walking across in front of me to her own vehicle and I noticed that she was unable to walk normally and unable to take full strides but rather was stepping about 18 inches at a time and I just thought to myself, “I hope it was worth it!”

Now don’t misunderstand me.  I am absolutely a guy who wants to look the best I can, given what I have to work with, at all times.  I get that.  But what I do not understand is the female proclivity for “cuteness”.  Placing a higher priority on looking cute than being comfortable no matter what the cost is a concept that is lost on me.  I have gotten completely dressed for work and been on my way out the door when I realized something wasn’t comfortable enough to wear the whole day and therefore turned around and changed my clothes.

Watching this woman, it was clear that she was in pain.  It was obvious she was unable to stand up and walk like a normal person in these boots, so why, I ask you, WHY would she wear them?  I simply cannot understand the cute over comfort, style over substance philosophy by which so many women make their wardrobe choices.

I have to admit though, the sadistic part of me laughed the hardest when I realized that the car she was short-stepping her way to, was already occupied.  A man, I presume to be her husband, was in the driver’s side of the car waiting for her and I couldn’t help wonder how that conversation went down.  On what planet did it make sense to either one of them that he should sit outside in the car while she hobbled her way into and through the store to get the items they needed?