Look at the blog, Larry. Just look at that blog.

This is gonna be about Band-Aids. It's pretty great.

Archive for April 2011

#42. Ain’t no stoppin’ me now

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So the new directive is progress, huh?

I can do that. I even have an experience from just two days ago that demonstrates just how progressive and willing-to-continue-on-in-the-face-of-adversity I am.

So basically, I was totally photographing some Band-Aids on my back porch, and I was getting all artsy with it, and thinking like a Band-Aid, and doing all this awesome stuff that I thought was totally cool. It was totally hip. Like, you wouldn’t even know. And then in the blink of an eye, the wind kicks up and all my Band-Aids go tumbling off. It was horrible. All I could imagine was spending the next half an hour picking up Band-Aids off the cobblestones behind my apartment building. It was gonna be awful. Just… so… awful.

And yet when I looked down, ’twas not pain I saw, but a bunch of Band-Aids perfectly splattered along the ground. It was even artsy-fartsier then what I was doing before. It was great.

So I photographed the hell out of this new Band-Aid catastrophe/opportunity. I even imagined I was some kind of high class fashion photographer. I yelled at the Band-Aids about their motivation, how great they looked, how they were ‘really working it.’ My neighbors probably all think I’m nuts, but it was totally worth it.

So yeah, in case it wasn’t totally obvious, I’ve progressed from the point where spilling Band-Aids would just make me upset to the point where I can work each spill into something wonderful.

And did you know the Chinese use the same word for crisis and opportunity?

Yes you did. It’s called crisitunity.

Blammo

Sha-Bamz

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Written by mandudeman

April 27, 2011 at 2:44 pm

Posted in Week 12: Progress

#41. My sense of self is like a Band-Aid dinosaur sponge.

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Just dampen me for dinosaur terror.

I’d like to, at this time, thank myself for all my hard work. Is it gloating? Yes. Do I care? Not as much as you’d think. And in the interest of being frank, let me just say I didn’t really enjoy this class as much as I thought I would. It’s nothing against the class itself, or anybody in it- I just thought advertising would be the right fit for me, and it turns out it’s not. No big deal. What Curiousness did make me realize, though, is that I need to find the thing that IS the right fit for me. And I totally did.

You see, fair, gentle reader, I was…. shall we say… a wee bit insecure about applying to film school, but I knew that I could write pretty well. Plus, having spent a semester writing about Band-Aids, I figured writing an essay or two on an application here or there wouldn’t be the most difficult thing in the world.

And it wasn’t (big surprise, huh), ‘cuz over the course of this semester I’ve been able to write from the heart about Band-Aids. Maybe not in every entry. Definitely not in every entry. But every once in a while I was able to really pull some stuff out about Band-Aids that I felt actually had some kind of emotional core to it. And I had done it enough times to know the basic avenues through my own emotions to reach that sweet, nougat-y emotional core. And through doing that, I totally got into film school.

So thank you, Band-Aids. Allow me to show my appreciation by putting you up on the wall.

(heh heh heh).

Disclaimer: Band-Aid may be accompanied by 'You've gotten into film school' letter.

Written by mandudeman

April 27, 2011 at 8:17 am

Posted in Week 12: Progress

#40. Ring around the Band-Aid, pocket full of… Band-Aid.

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What exactly is a promise ring? I feel like it’s some sort of antique 1950’s tradition where you give a ring to your best girl as a promise that you two’ll be going steady forever. But I have no idea if that’s true. I’m actually just gonna Google it.

And after a quick googling, we’ve got four basic definitions of ‘promise ring’:

1. A terrible rock band from Milwaukee that broke up in 2002.

2. The debut single by R&B singer Tiffany Evans.

3. A ‘pre-engagement’ ring, signifying a monogamous relationship.

4. A ring signifying a pledge of abstinence until marriage.

Let’s stick to definition number three. Which, as it turns out, was actually kinda close to the weird, American Graffiti-esque fantasies I had carousing through my brain.

Now my original plan was to wear a Band-Aid on my ring finger for a week, as if it was some kind of promise ring, and then when I took it off it’d look like I just got divorced, ‘cuz there’d be a little band of tan-lined Band-Aid goodness and it would be, like, totally realistic. And in theory, I could have easily done this, because I wrote the first half of this entry a week ago and then forgot about it. Plus, I hold the world record for ‘Most Upsettlingly Pale Skin-Tone,’ so it would only take about six or seven minutes in the sun to burn a promise-ring mark into my flesh.

That actually sounds a little unpleasant, so let me just treat you to the basics….

In that, basically, I took a cool picture of my Band-Aided hand next to a lamp.

And already I'm as bronze as a Mediterranean swimsuit model.

Written by mandudeman

April 27, 2011 at 6:10 am

Posted in Week 9: Promise

#39. The man with the screaming Band-Aid brain.

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As this blog has gone on, I’d like to think my photography skills have improved…. at least a little. If technically, I’ve gone from the worst person to ever fumble with the controls of a camera to the second worst person to ever fumble with the controls of a camera, I’ll consider this a huge success. Conveniently, though, the easiest way to remove any sense of progress is to let it stew in the furious, anxiety-ridden screaming cacophony that is my brain.

You see, Passover is this weekend, and I was planning on doing some more, potentially Passover-related blog entries over the weekend. Which would totally be awesome, except for the whole screaming anxiety thing.

I have an aunt who’s a professional photographer. She’s gonna be at Passover. And somewhere in my mind is the thought that doing any kind of amateur, class-required photography in front of her would shame me over how terrible I am at it. Now if I’ve made any kind of being-less-of-a-crazy-person progress over the last couple of years, then hopefully I’ll be less of a crazy person, but really I just don’t know. The only way to truly tell if I’ve made any progress in this is to construct some kind of gigantic brain made out of Band-Aids, and then take a photo of it in front of my aunt. One hopes that the addition of Band-Aids, and the necessity of having to do art-y stuff with Band-Aids will push me through the point of no return and into a-little-less-crazy town. But we won’t truly find out until I try this weekend.

Only then will we know.

Only then.

Update: So I didn’t actually construct any giant Band-Aid brains, but my aunt noticed the old, used Band-Aids still stuck to the back of my computer and we ended up chatting about the blog. Sooooooo… I’m still gonna mark that one in the ‘win’ column.

Written by mandudeman

April 25, 2011 at 5:40 am

Posted in Week 12: Progress

#38. Short and sweet.

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Alright everyone. My mind was blown recently. By Ernest Hemmingway’s six word short story.

SIX WORDS. That’s it. And yet, it’s really, really, really good. Oh here’s the story:

For Sale: baby shoes, never worn.

Pretty neat stuff, huh? And, as a man named William Shakesman once said, ‘brevity is the soul of wit.’

So, in keeping with the philosophies of these famous literary strongmen, I will write a story about Band-Aids, using only six words. And actually, when I sat down to write, I came up with a bunch of ideas, and none of them really… separated themselves from the chaff, so to speak. So in lieu of having one really, really good ‘Holy shit it’s so succinct!!’ story, here are nine pretty good (if not great ones).

Mother of three. One less worry.

Parents out of town. Comfort isn’t.

“Aw, honey it’s just a scratch”

“It’s ok. I’ll get a Band-Aid.”

“Don’t worry. Sometimes these things happen.”

“We can get a new bike.”

That’s why I said “no skateboarding.”

“You can always try rollerblading again.”

“Yes, honey, it DID look sharp.”

In retrospect, some of those sound really, really, really slogan-like, and there was a recurring extreme-sports theme that picked up towards the end there, but I still feel like I actually put my brain to good use with the whole ‘creative writing’ thing.

Written by mandudeman

April 19, 2011 at 9:53 pm

#37. Curly: Portrait of a Serial Stooge.

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So this post is something I’ve been looking forward to for a long time now. What I’m gonna do, see, is sketch a picture of Curly. Curly the Stooge. And I’m gonna make it real good. Then (and here’s the kicker) I’m gonna watch one of those Three Stooges shorts, and every time somebody bops Curly over the head, I’ll put a Band-Aid over the same part of his ugly mug in the picture. A real great plan. No foolin’.

So what are you palookas waiting for?

Ok for the record, I am not a talented artist by any means, and this drawing took an hour and a half. Felt I should throw that out there.

But heeeeeere is the before.

There's something unholy in his eyes... Almost as if I didn't draw them the right way.

And heeeeere is the after.

If this isn't art, I don't know what is.

And so, the moral of the story is: If you find yourself with an opportunity to incorporate watching an episode of the Three Stooges into your homework… take that opportunity.

Written by mandudeman

April 19, 2011 at 8:58 am

#36. For I am… The Grillmaster. Bow down and worship my beef-soaked form.

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‘Sup guys. All you out in the (it pains me to say this) ‘blog-o-sphere.’ Any of you ever been to a barbecue?

They’re pretty cool. Hot meat cooking on the grill. The smells. The sounds. That feeling when your teeth cut through the smoky crackle of the charred outside of a burger, only to feel the rich hamburger flavor wash over your taste buds.

I like barbecues. A lot. Hell, one of my all-time favorite memories is manning the grill at a big family gathering last summer.

Sausage links. Barbecued chicken. Even asparagus. On a barbecue grill. Try it. You’ll love it.

I had ’em all grilling at once… watching for that tiny bit of char on the outside of the meat… keeping my BBQ sauce levels in check… maintaining an even color on all sides of the sausage. For that brief, brief summer afternoon, I was not myself.

I was The Grillmaster.

So when I was invited to a barbecue yesterday, I started to get flashbacks. I started thinking about how good it’ll feel to get a hot-off-the-grill burger in my stomach. And at this point, I realize that I was invited to someone else’s (I’m keeping all names anonymous for safety reasons) house for free food, but still it must be said:

The burgers tasted like Band-Aids.

Now, growing up, every dad had a different burger philosophy. It was all unspoken, of course, but over time one picks up on these things.

My friend Mark- his dad made burgers that were small but really thick. Each bite let loose an uproar of flavor, but were done after two or three bites.

My friend Jamie- his dad made fairly traditional burgers. Medium circumference, medium thickness, decent amount of char on top. The standard American hamburger.

And my dad- his were thinner than your traditional burger, but that means you get more surface area for griddle marks. Plus, a little extra meat sticks out around the patty, so overall you can get more bites out of one burger.

No burger is best, but each burger is unique. And the burgers from yesterday… Pre-frozen patties cooked by the one vegetarian attending the barbecue.

I didn’t want to be a bad guest. I didn’t say anything. I thanked everyone for the food. But something inside me… It cried out for barbecue.

And real barbecue tastes nothing like Band-Aids.

That is all.

Written by mandudeman

April 19, 2011 at 6:39 am