Statesman > XL Blogs > Archives > 2005 > January > 19 > Entry
Walk a mile in my shoes, but be careful
Friday night, I was a judge for videoke at the Alamo Village. I was cheered, I was booed, I saw a guy getting spanked. Good times.
Videoke is free, and you should go sometime. It’s like karaoke but with movie scenes, and, I can tell you just from observing it once, it’s not as easy as you’d think. Here’s some advice: When you select a scene to perform, remind yourself that there are likely many, many more words in it than you remember. A couple of teams learned this the hard way about the part at the beginning of “Pulp Fiction” where Jules menaces those kids who were messing with Marsellus Wallace. There’s a reason Samuel L. Jackson is Samuel L. Jackson and you and I are not.
The winners were a couple of girls who did “the scene” from “Monster’s Ball” and were indeed excellent. But my favorite part of the night came when a guy doing “Scarface” started to lose the crowd and offered five bucks to any heckler who could do the scene better. In the back of the theater, a skinny guy in a black shirt, who’d been tepid in his own performance earlier, shot out of his seat, flailing, screaming, hissing, spitting. Pacino would be lucky to give such a performance. The crowd, as they say, went wild. I think I witnessed the start of a promising career.
Concerned reader Patrick writes in to ask “How did you cut yourself on your shoe? I did not think it is possible to do that.”
My reply, in case anyone else was wondering:
Dear Patrick,
It was quite baffling even to me, but I will try to re-create the circumstances.
First, let me describe the shoes. I had purchased them in part because of their large, square heel. They look something like the bat shoe at this Web site, but not so extreme in style. I had never noticed, though, that the edges of the heel were rather sharp.
The accident occurred when I was walking into the living room of my apartment. Somehow, I tripped. The cause of this is not clear. It takes a solid obstruction to trip most people, but sometimes I will trip for no reason at all. Realizing that I was about to fall, I reached out to grab my lamp to steady myself. Trying to regain my footing, I brought my left foot down on my right foot in such a way that the edge of the left heel sliced my right foot.
Adding indignity to the injury is the fact that grabbing the lamp wrenched my right shoulder, which I had dislocated several years ago by falling off a treadmill. As you can see, it’s quite dangerous being me, and it’s a wonder that I’ve survived into my 30s.
I hope that this clears up the confusion. Thanks for reading XL Blog!
Sarah
I think it might be time to trade in those shoes: I was wearing them at Alamo Village on Friday and took a tumble going into the theater. It was even worse than the shoe cut, but not as bad as the treadmill fall.
All of this explains why I actually believed Jason the ne’er-do-well Saturday night when he told me — KNOWING FULL WELL that I have a fear of irrational injuries — that not only did I have something in my eye, I was also bleeding. Luckily, he had brought over “Aqua Teen Hunger Force” DVDs, which made me forgiving.
I had never been to the Longbranch Inn or seen Chrissy Flatt before last week, but my friend Richard educated me on both accounts. With the pink and blue lights guiding the way to the facilities, the Longbranch ties with Mean-Eyed Cat for the best restrooms in Austin.
And I loved Chrissy’s version of “I’m Not Like Everybody Else” so much that I would want it to be the theme of my own TV show. I’m not sure what that show would be about, except that it would probably involve a lot of falling and, if at all possible, Phil Keoghan.
Even with all the cuts and falls, I have never been as much of an embarrassment as Robin Williams was at the Golden Globes on Sunday. Accepting the Cecil B. DeMille Award for outstanding contribution to entertainment (“Patch Adams” must have clinched it for him), he let loose with the same “wacky” spiel he’s been doing since, oh, 1985. The foreign accents might have been marginally funny back then, but imitating a deaf person or a “special” person never was. And he’s still doing it. Some people talk differently — oh, what biting social commentary. Look, offend me with your humor, jolt me, surprise me — hey, you can even make jokes about Old 97’s (although do that very, very carefully). But don’t get up and subject me to your stunning laziness.
Because we never want to end on an ugly note here, I will tell you that I wish the all-around incredible Ellen well as she moves from Austin to Colorado. Ellen and I had just started running around together, but we totally got each other in so many areas: boys, life, “The Amazing Race.” She taught me how to order a cheeseburger at Casino El Camino (don’t laugh — it’s intimidating!), and for that and many other reasons, I’m so grateful we crossed paths.
I will tell you, though, that moves, my own or other people’s, are getting where they just kill me. I want all of the rest of you to stay put for a while. If I can have that and a new pair of shoes, I think we’re in business.
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