So, two advantages of living near a city is that you can often get things for free and have access to unique opportunities. One such item where these come together is a press screening. This is when a movie is shown before its release, giving critics a chance to see it and pen a review by opening day. There are few reporters, so the theater, production company, and news papers offer passes to fill the empty seats. I am a huge fan of movies and I especially love seeing them in the theater. Thus, when I can go without paying astronomical ticket prices, I am well pleased. Doubly so when I can do it before the general public.
I've taken advantage of these promotions a number of times. Over the years I've seen some real winners (Shrek) and losers (Red Tails) and everything in-between. I saw a very early, unfinished edit of The Italian Job and very recently watched the first audience screening of a documentary (which I can't tell you about because I had to sign an NDA, but they bought my silence with gift certificates to see any other movie).
What Paramount wanted from us was rather vague, something about pictures and promotional materials. No sweat, folks love my zombie persona and always want to be in a photo with me. And I'm a huge fan of swag (most of my shirts were free). In return, we'd get reserved seating.
Our little undead herd gathered at the theater, including a couple of Disney Princesses and others with rather grotesque makeup. There were even some folks not affiliated with us madeup as zombies.
The guy from Paramount had us do promo shots holding movies posters that we then handed out to the those in line. We posed for pics with movie goers and mall patrons. Or simply stood around looking creepy and occasionally sneaking up on people, giving one or two a real scare. When we ran into a lull, we'd break out into Thriller.
Someone came up and told me that I was their favorite zombie!
After the movie, we took more pictures with folks connected to the studio and any who wanted to play around. And as a final thank you, we were all given deluxe branded 3-D glasses. A couple from our crew even got mini branded first-aid kits (not me, sadly).
In the end, I'd had fantastic fun with friends, saw an intense movie, and walked away with all my limbs intact.
So, summer is coming. And what does that mean? MUD RUNS!
This past weekend was the Rugged Maniac, my first of the season. I have four more planned, but I may add a fifth beyond that.
The RM was held at the Portland International Raceway. I was signed up for the first heat at 9 a.m. I like grabbing the early slots because the course isn't torn up yet from all the other runners. I had a friend who raced in a later match and learned a secondary reason to show up early: you avoid the lines at the obstacles, which can really eat into your finishing time.
And time is one thing I'm concerned with. I track my races at Athlinks, so I can compare my performance to others and most especially to myself, to see if my daily gym visits are really paying off. While there have been races that didn't have official timing, this was the first time I had to pay extra for the timing chip. This is a little sensor that tracks when you cross the start and then the end. You tie it into your shoe and it should stand the abuse. Most races, this is free if it is offered at all, so everybody gets one and you really get a sense of how everyone performed. With having to pay a bit extra ($10!), there were far fewer takers.
When I arrived, the sky was not looking too promising, and within five minutes it started to rain. The registration desks hadn't even opened yet. Bad omen? No such thing.
This race did have a nice feature that I haven't seen before. The start area was actually blocked off by a small wall, similar to those you would probably find peppered throughout the course. I thought they would be moving this once things got started. But nope, they called in the runners with instructions to scale the wall. It became a bit of a "You must be this athletic to run this course" kind of litmus test. I vaulted it pretty easily and was the first to do so. The announcer noticed and called out my bib number: instant fame (of a sort).
The thing I noticed first about the race was that we were at a race track, so the land was pretty level. I was guessing this would make the whole thing much easier. I would soon find this wasn't really the case. The first obstacle was a stream that ran across the course. It was about a three foot drop to the water and about six feet across. Some were climbing down into the water and out the other side. I went the path of the more adventurous and leapt across.
Next came some some short walls to toss ourselves over. This was quickly followed by a theme for this race: bleachers. There were two small sets placed back to back, forming a small pyramid to climb over. Throughout the race, much larger bleachers were encountered that we had to run up, across, and down. Nothing too taxing, but they were metal and we were covered by mud by this point, so the footing was treacherous.
Other obstacles included the tires in the classic football training arrangement, hanging from ropes in a cage that you have to crash through, and a hill of the things trying to suck you in or spill you out. Several trenches had been dug out, some we had to jump across in quick succession, others we had to crawl through. These crawl trenches were covered and pretty long, so the interior was pitch black. There was someone in front of me and I was able to keep tabs on them by the reflectors in their shoes. But suddenly these disappeared and I knew there was a turn in the tunnel. This slowed my down a bit as I didn't want to ram my face into a wall.
About two thirds of the way through the race I finally ran out of breath and had to slow down a bit. This cost me my target time. I was hoping to complete the race in thirty minutes flat. My final time was just over thirty-five minutes. Not bad, but on par with what I'd been racing last year, so it's hard to say that I had any improvement.
After the end of the race and showering off I jumped with the kids through the bounce castle and then took my first ride on a mechanical bull. Held on pretty long but the cost was my pinkie finger. Mashed it up pretty good, scrapping a good chunk of the knuckle off, and leaving it swollen for a couple days.
So, I've previously discussed my appreciation for the unclothed form. And I'll admit, I have no aversion to wearing less than the full complement of attire. So there are some opportunities that I can't pass up. But in January? Really?
Well, finally, I would not let the cold of winter allow me to chicken out once again. You see, for many years Portland has participated in a nation wide phenomenon. It all started in New York as a prank by the folks at Improve Everywhereeleven years ago. The idea is simple:
Get on a public transit train (in NY this means the Subway, in PDX it's the Max).
Take your pants off.
Pretend like nothing out of the ordinary has happened.
Of course, doing this during some of the chilliest weather of the season seems like madness, but that's part of the charm. It is far more difficult to feign ignorance to a lack of trousers when there are goosebumps on your thighs. The forecast called for near freezing temperatures, but I could not let even the ice on the sidewalk deter me.
I had some choices to make as I prepared to head downtown: what to wear, what to unwear? Perhaps this is a case of TMI (so you may want to skip over the rest of this paragraph), but I'm a boxers man. In the lead up to the event I had pretty much settled on wearing my pirate shorts with their little Jolly Rogers with red hearts for eyes. Cute, right? My wife made a slight hint that I should go for the silky ones instead. Suddenly: inspiration! I have Santa boxers. Which would keep me warm with their white fringe (totally legit). The musical jingle bells would be a plus. I dressed in a santa-ish t-shirt and my santa hat to complete the look.
The plan was to meet at the designated location at the appointed time. I was running behind due to a conflict with a gym class and got there just in time for the reporter from Fox news to finish interviewing a friend (missed this opportunity to be on TV, but my wife and friends are there, so kudos to them). No one was without pants yet, but we were filling our bodies with warming liquids.
Like lemmings we marched on Pioneer Square and hit the east bound Max train. Once we were all aboard, we dropped trou. And boy did the strangers on the train get a show. There were many oohs, ahhs, and laughs from those unwittingly witness to our gag. Invitations to join in the festivities were brushed off with a blushing giggle or a coy smile. Complements were shared on our choice of attire. Plenty of geek cred was handed out. And, as the rules stipulated, not a thong was in sight.
We rode the train to the Lloyd Center stop and got out to prance about near the park. We started showing off for each other and for the innocent bystanders, mall rats, and the disheveled youths who gathered to gawk and stare. After a bit of tomfoolery, we boarded the westward light rail to head back to our point of origin. A much shorter trip had us at the Square once more where we paused for a group photo or two.
On the march back to the bar, we stopped in front of a fancy restaurant to do the Can-can.
Having gotten public displays out of our systems, and with the darkening sky descending upon us, we returned to home base for pant-less libations and dancing. There was a contest to show off our moves, but I failed to make the cut (fifth of four). In the end, the festivities are much warmer than you may imagine, you spend most of your time indoors, you're very active, and the people your are with are simply fantastic.
So, what about you? Would you ever do something so against the grain of common society? Something off the wall that others may find offensive even though it's harmless?
So, I'm not much of a dancer. Two left feet doesn't even begin to describe me. I have a pretty hard time doing anything with my legs beyond running and climbing. I'd say I was clumsy if I didn't have such excellent balance. I even find it difficult to switch my weight from one side to the other. Rhythm utterly escapes me.
Yet I am also a child of the 80's. MTV (you know, back when they actually played music) very effectively brainwashed me. And it was the anthems of Michael Jackson that most effectively planted a dance bug deep into my subconscious. We all wanted to moonwalk when I was a kid.
Thus, when someone said, "Hey, come do Thriller with me," there was no way I could turn it down.
Next thing I know I'm down at OMSI rehearsing. Our dance instructor took us through a lot of the original choreography from the video but with a slight twist to match our dance space, the cut of the song, and the whims of an artist. We did this for several weeks, culminating in a visit to our teacher's normal stomping grounds, the Diva Den. This may not come as a surprise to you, but most of the people participating were women, and normally the Diva Den is sans males, but this training was a special exception. That's right gentlemen, I have visited the forbidden inner sanctum!
Why were we doing this? All this bending of rules, practice, and hard, sweaty work? Well, the last Wednesday of every month is OMSI After Dark, an adults-only visit to the hands-on museum with a special theme. And just what was the theme we were preparing for? It was "I love the 80's" night. So we dressed in our John Hughes best and headed to the event.
And what is the 80's without music videos? Nothing!
So there was a dance floor where some of the greatest New Wave classics were played on the big screen. And without announcement we broke out into "spontaneous" dance when the Thriller video came on. Some people got excited and asked if they could join in. I said if they could keep up they were welcome to it.
In this video I'm that guy at the back of the dance group, in the upper right of the screen, with the hat, white shirt and vest. You know, the one flubbing all the dance moves and such.
And that's not even the end of the story. Because all of this took place last year. This year, someone said "Hey, come do Thriller with me." And the whole thing started again.
This time we had fewer practices and a longer, more complex routine (nearly twice as long and about a third less repetitive). Rather than the choreography of the Diva Den, we had the dance as told by Thrill the World. And the OMSI After Dark theme? The end of the world. So we dressed in our zombie best and had another Thrill.
Gathering in a back room to finish preparations and have a final run through, a couple of us got interviewed by the local news station. Our lovely instructor went first. She is an organizer for, and talked about the, Portland Zombie Walk, from which tonight's event grew. I volunteered to go next and talked a bit about other zombie activities in town. Our interviewer then said "This isn't your first zombie rodeo then?" To which I could only reply, "No, but those zombie bulls sure are hard to ride." We promptly ended the interview so the camera man could bust up laughing. There was also a group of zombified Disney Princesses. The Snow White was the only other interviewee before we had to make final plans.
We then did a quick zombie crawl around the museum to end up in front of a live band. We staggered around until they finished their song and we promptly collapsed to the floor. Everyone but Michael Jackson. Then a full six minute version of the song started and we danced as the crowd continued to gather round, film and photograph us. I kept up with the choreography much better this time and we pulled things off beautifully.
The aftermath of this event is that it continues to give me more confidence on the dance floor, as I have a better sense of how to make my body, even my legs, get jiggy with it.
The guy from Paramount had us do promo shots holding movies posters that we then handed out to the those in line. We posed for pics with movie goers and mall patrons. Or simply stood around looking creepy and occasionally sneaking up on people, giving one or two a real scare. When we ran into a lull, we'd break out into Thriller.
