Triple Shot XIX

January 4, 2011

For my next trick, I will briefly open my door and let you place a foot inside my head. Wait, that sounds a little dangerous. I mean that metaphorically of course, but anytime you feel the need to stick your foot inside my head, I probably deserve it, and I encourage you in advance. However, for now please keep your literal foot still as I invite you into a little unmapped place I like to call My Brain. [Disclaimer: It can be argued that this blog is basically an open invitation to My Brain anyway, but this time we’re going deeper. Like recesses of my mind stuff. Orange you glad you’re reading this TODAY?!] Before we get all gushy about materialistic things as normally found in Triple Shots, why don’t we take a condensed trip down What-Munz-Wants Lane, which happens to rest right in the heart of My Brain?

Ignition. La di da, here we go. Unfortunately What-Munz-Wants Ln. looks absolutely nothing like Jackson Hole, Wyoming, so if you are reading this from a different area of the world, this might look familiar. It’s not that I hate Jackson, I don’t, it’s just I’m ready to explore other options and lifestyles. My good friend Rachel S. said it best when she asked of the people of Jackson, “do we really have nothing else to talk about besides the powder?”  Truthfully, there are many things we are able to talk about (Let’s list a few! “The Tourist” getting nominated for a Best Picture Golden Globe. The endless Kindle debate. The joke that is the $65 million production of “Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark”. Why the word ‘local’ is such a huge deal in Jackson. What the fuck is the deal with the Oprah Winfrey Network, and why doesn’t spell check flag the word ‘Winfrey’? ect.), but only a select few people in Jackson would have an opinion on any of this. I’ve said it before and I’ve said it again: Jackson Hole is Neverland; you don’t grow up until you leave. And that’s precisely what I intend to do when I go to Chicago. I wanna grow up. (For the record, I am not a Toys R Us kid. I’ve only been to that store once. I was 10 and it was awesome, but I was 10.)

So there’s the truth. The little house underneath the huge maple tree down towards the end of What-Munz-Wants Ln. is SOLD, and it is called Adulthood, and it’s all I need. By adulthood, I don’t mean I want to be all old and safe and boring. It doesn’t mean I don’t want to take risks. It just means that I want to be able to recognize that I’m now and adult and I have the ability to attain my personal goals. I can do neither in Jackson, and unless you’re a bro-bra skier and your goal is to meet other bro-bras and hook up with some chicks who rip, then neither can you. I hate to be pessimistic, but I don’t know a single person here under 40 who has said, “Yes, Jackson Hole is the exact place I plan to get married, advance in my career, buy a house and raise my family.” Granted that’s a very 1960s mentality to most people, but it’s pretty clear to me that most people come to Jackson to escape the real world (history has shown this) and they have no intention of doing anything else. Here, no one’s goals last longer than 6 months.

I’m different. And it’s time for me to go. Smirkey face.

So. Phew. Get your foot outta my brain and let’s talk about the first of many cool things I’m experiencing in 2011.


My good friend Jamie R. told me that if I didn’t audition for “Company” directed by Kathy B. then I would be an idiot. I took his advice, auditioned, and got cast in the musical written by Stephen Sondheim (“West Side Story”, “Sweeney Todd”). He told me that “Into the Woods” was the best play he did while in Jackson, which also happened to be directed by Kathy B. As Jamie R. is, and has always been, an inspiration to me and an actor I look up to, after yesterday, I was thankful that he pushed me to do so. Yesterday we had a full read-through with the cast, our first rehearsal, and it was awesome. We have a brilliant little cast and a hell of a lot of work ahead of us. We perform the last weekend of February and the first weekend of March, so I’m sure you’ll be hearing little snippets of my rehearsal experiences as my blogs come out. For now, enjoy the first 10 minutes of the 2006 Broadway revival (in our version we don’t play all the instruments; we have an orchestra), or, if your short on time, skip to the 5 minute mark and watch from there.



Rarely do I come across a good story. Oh, there are definitely plenty of great books out there, but it’s not often I’m really impacted by a story. I think there’s a huge difference between a good book and a good story. A good story can be told from one person to another; a good story is the type of tale that I’m actually interested in someone else verbalizing to me. A good book, on the other hand, needs to be read to be appreciated. When I come across a good book I feel the need to tell someone about, I merely tell them to read the damn thing. When I come across a good story, I am fully pumped and ready to go through every little detail because it was just that good. “Mr. Toppit” by Charles Elton is one of those great stories that I would love to tell everyone. However, I’m running into a paradox because I hate spoiling things for people…yet I want to tell you all about it! Basically it’s a very twisted chronicle of a family spun out of control by fame, tragedy, trauma and absurdity. Imagine if we got to peek into the world of the creation of Lewis Carrol’s “Alice in Wonderland” but directed by Wes Anderson. The characters are deep, the plot is original and the humor is Daaarrrk. Man it’s dark. If you love dark-flavored humor read it, devour it, and tell other people all about it. Totally underrated book with a shitty cover.

Who designed this thing?



I’ve recently had the pleasure of finishing the first three seasons of “Mad Men” over my holidays, having just finished the last season 3 episode yesterday. I will admit that it took me a little while to get into “Mad Men” at first, maybe because the America in the 1960s (I mentioned them earlier! Hey!) were never really a subject of interest to me. My parents were growing up in Austria at the time, so I never heard any stories of “What it was like” other than tales of lederhosen, accordions and goats (seriously). But thankfully I pushed through and finally dedicated time to the show, and now it’s one of my favorites of all time. WAY better than “Lost”, but that bar was set pretty low at its end, so it ain’t difficult. Anywho. If you’re not familiar it’s about a group of gents working in advertising on Madison Ave (thus the Mad) in Manhattan, their families and the events that shaped our nation during that era. The music is excellent, the acting is flawless, as is the writing, and I’ve never seen such a beautifully produced television show. If you’ve never seen it, you owe it to yourself to check it out. I can’t wait for the fourth season to hit DVD! Guah, the WAIT!

Betty and Don Draper, our antiheroes.


More awesome Triple Shotness next Tuesday!



2 Responses to “Triple Shot XIX”

  1. Tracy said

    Yay for you having a master plan! I agree with everything you’ve said about Jackson. I’m excited for your move to Chi-town. I also love Company AND Mad Men…so we sort of share a brain today. Happy New Year to you…I miss you, friend!

  2. Barbudo said

    Check out Breaking Bad: another beautiful show. Also, i do, in fact, know a guy (and his fiancee) who are in Jackson with all those desires you claim haven`t existed since the `60s. Granted, that`s only two people in the whole town. Anywho… i`m quite contrary. But i will agree (without actually having seen the thing) that The Newest Spiderman is stupid. Grow up already and get outta Jackson. You can go back later.

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