The new home of "The Frank Report."

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  HERE is a list of all the skating films known to man. And, although I wasn't able to get it to work, I've been told that the Liberal 8-Ball is quite amusing.
posted at 9:29 AM

 

25 %

My weblog owns 25 % of me.
Does your weblog own you?
posted at 7:53 AM

  (Thanks to Trish for linking a phrase normally associated with Manhattenites self-centeredness with my own delicious narcissism.)

I've always wanted my own theme song. Figured it was something that everyone should have, preferably to be played while entering a room to the polite applause of adoring fans. Alas, my fan base is small and my tour schedule limited, but dammit, I can still have the song.

I've chosen "Route 66" by Depeche Mode; or rather it chose me. I was flipping through my CD collection during my recent cleaning spree, and the disc practically leapt into my hand, reactivated the lingering goal item from my list ("Choose Theme Song"), and said "I'm it, baby." Just to clarify, the CD did not actually speak to me, in the "I'm-crazy-and-eat-wallpaper" sense. More in the sense of going to the pound, looking at dogs, and finding the one that you KNOW is destined to be the perfect fit. (The theme to "The Price Is Right" is bouncing around in my mind as an alternate.)

I'm sure you're all smart enough to find the .mp3 for the song on the web. I won't post it here because a) I don't collect .mp3's b) can't surf for them at work and c) I don't need the RIAA invading my hard drive and assimilating me into the copyrighted music collective. In lieu of music, here are the lyrics.

"Well if you ever plan to motor west/Travel my way, take the highway that's the best/Get your kicks on Route 66

Well it winds from Chicago to LA/More than two thousand miles all the way/Get your kicks on Route 66

Well it goes to St. Louis, down to Missouri/Oklahoma City looks so, so pretty/You'll see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico/Flagstaff, Arizona, don't forget Wynonna/Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino

Won't you get hip to this kind of trip/And go take that California trip/Get your kicks on Route 66

Well it goes to St. Louis, down to Missouri/Oklahoma City looks so, so pretty/You'll see Amarillo, Gallup, New Mexico/Flagstaff, Arizona, don't forget Wynonna/Kingman, Barstow, San Bernardino

If you get hip to this kind of trip/And go take that California trip/Get your kicks on Route 66/Get your kicks on Route 66 (repeat)"

I'd be interested to know if anyone else has been possessed by the "theme song" bug and their final choice.

posted at 1:13 PM

  The "Evil Twin" photos have been converted to a G-rating and are posted on the Frank Photos link on the left under "Information." Can't find it? Click here. Feedback welcome.

posted at 7:05 AM

  If you haven't tried it, I highly recommend it. Just got back from a round of drag queen bingo with my friends, and as always, it's a hoot. There's singing, dancing, audience participation, trivia, noise making, and all kinds of wild fun. It's the only event that I've been to so far in DC that brings together people of all races, backgrounds and income levels. (And that's no small feat!) Two people won from our table tonight. The promoters must have been able to upgrade their license, because unlike previous shows where the prizes (due to gambling laws) had to be of "no monetary value", the prizes tonight were halfway decent. Hieronymous (Michael) won a complete paint set: rollers, tape, edging materials, etc. I won a porn video tape called "Pounding Pussy In Public." I can't wait to watch it.

I also got chosen to play "Drag Queen Trivia" - which is set up exactly like Jeopardy - but I lost to the woman next to me who was cheating. (We were supposed to keep our hands at our sides. She had hers hovering over the buzzer.) I had already won, so I wasn't too upset. The French foreign exchange student and I got consolation prizes of Baracardi merchandise (and free shots.) Later, the French foreign exchange student won Bingo outright and got a make-up kit. The drag queens teased her mercilessly about how much she needed it, but it was all in good fun.

Again, if you haven't tried Drag Queen Bingo before, and it's available in your city, I highly recommend that you give it a try. It's fun for the whole family (with an X-rating.)

posted at 10:13 PM

  My unique way of expressing myself is wrecking havoc on search engines across the Internet. I just checked out my referral logs and the Frank Report comes up #5 on a google search for "Thomas Crowne and wardrobe." In a rare moment of irony, my site comes up as #1 on google for the search terms "Manic Depressiveness Quiz." That's what I need, crazy people *back* in my life. The site also comes up #5 for an AOL search on "unisex baths n.y.c." and #1 and #2 for "wet t shrit for the water or for the surf" (whatever that means - mispelling intentional.) The final and strangest result comes up as #3 on google "Donnie Darko site quiz bird name."

I don't make this stuff up, folks. I got a million of them.
posted at 1:51 PM

  I left Seattle on a Sunday morning, which was the best time (IMHO) because all the godless hippies who had been Raving till 5 am, hopped up on X were asleep in bed instead of out on the road on their way to Mass.

So it was just me and the cowboy's hauling their horses, heading east into the rising sun. My first stop was at Snoqualmie Falls, a beautiful waterfall and setting for the TV cult classic show, "Twin Peaks." As a longtime fan of the show, I knew I had to stop by as long as I was in a 500 mile radius of the falls. While I was there, I did my now customary "Indian Ceremony". I normally reserve the ceremony for New Year's Day, but since I suspected this trip was in my future, I held off. The basics of the ceremony are to choose 3 things that you want to go out of your life and 3 things that you want to come into your life. Make a note of them, do the hokey-pokey, and voila, it happens. (Not entirely accurate, but if you want a more indepth description, write to me privately.)

Because I wanted to do the trip "right", I chose a structure for the trip: I would start on the west coast, after having touched the Pacific, see a waterfall (Snoqualmie), and at the last leg of my journey, I would see another waterfall (Niagra), and end up touching the Atlantic Ocean. I don't know how this made the trip "right" but it never hurts to have structure. (I'm sure the nuns at ICRS would approve of my attitude.)

I've heard that El Captan in Yosemite is impressive, but the mountains I saw driving to and from the falls were equally so. Generally, if I stop the car, set aside my jaded, east coast cynicism, look out the window and say "OK, I'll admit, that's impressive," then you can trust my judgment and concur, yes, they were. It seemed somehow sacreligious to stop for breakfast at McDonald's in the field beneath these juggernauts, but I didn't make the zoning laws for Washington.

It was here that I first discovered that the McDonald's of the US serve their meals with slight regional differences. For instance, the canadian bacon served on the Egg McMuffin's of this region had a slightly smokier flavor than their counterparts back east. Some people do wines. Some people do 5-star restaurants. My discerning pallet has been yoked to sniffing out differences in Coca-Cola, milk, and Mickey-D's.

(running out of time today. I'll update more tonight/tomorrow.)
posted at 1:13 PM

  I've made 2 additions today to the links section (it will ebb and flow over time based on my interest level.)
The first one (registration required) is for the New York Times feature called First Chapters. It allows you to read the first chapter of any book that's been reviewed by the NY Times. Not a bad feature, considering the price of some hardcover books these days. And I like it better than Amazon. Amazon always greets me by name, which I find unabashedly cheeky, whereas the Times calls me MrBobo, which is charmingly eccentric.

The other site is for BookCrossing.Com. The premise is that people across the US are leaving books out in public with a note on the cover that says "Read Me". Inside is a tracking number and the web address. If someone finds the book, they are asked to note it in the database, and pass the book along when they're done. Guerrila literacy. I love it.

And besides, a little extra book karma couldn't hurt.
posted at 12:07 PM

  As part of my marathon web surfing session, I discovered that the actor who played Grandpa Walton of "The Waltons" was gay while the singers of "The Village People" were straight.

That's odd enough, but I also discovered that there's a replica of the Walton's house, and full museum, within driving distance of DC. Another destination to add to my list in addition to Gettysburg, HersheyPark, Pittsburgh, and Somerset, PA.
posted at 11:49 AM

  I'm #6 on google.com under a search for "Arbiter Elegantiae." Not bad!
I haven't cracked the top 200 under google searches for "Frank Report."
(Note to self: impress legions of readers with my wit and writing. Become world famous.)

posted at 11:35 AM

  Odd, I just got a 30-second visit to the city from the city of Shawnee, Kansas.
I've been to part of Kansas, but I don't recall that part, so in honor of their visit, I'll put a link to them, HERE. (Thanks for stopping by!)

I also had a recent visit from USCOURTS.GOV. I've straightened out my act, as the saying goes, so it can't be anything to sinister. (I hope.)
posted at 11:30 AM

  For those of you who think I lead an exciting life with all this travel, after I finished reorganizing all my possessions in their various boxes, I've since moved on to reorganizing and copying onto CD, all my computer files. After that, I may go through my old paperwork, correspondence and tax returns.

It's not all champagne and roses here at Chez Frank. As Buddha said:

"Before enlightenment, carry water - chop wood.
After enlightenment, carry water - chop wood."

Same thing goes for wild adventures and travel.
posted at 11:09 AM

  If liberalism has a promised land, Portland, Oregon is it. And if Portland were liberalism's promised land, San Francisco would be its crappy, run down neighborhood that resists gentrification.

Portland is beautiful by night, with high soaring bridges twinkling with lights soaring through the riverfront and central city districts. The far shores are dark black with trees, punctuated by soaring alabaster towers that resemble sci-fi cityscapes circa the 25th century. The entire downtown is overgrown with foliage and homey touches: street corners laden with planters, two stories worth of vines covering buildings in the business district, trees arcing over every street. It's a true eco-topia.

I pulled into town in the midst of graduation ceremonies for several colleges and highschools and the city was turned out in force. But what an orderly assembly! Back home, people would have just wandered out into the street at will, forcing traffic to a snarled standstill. In Portland, the crowds were orderly, polite, waving to passersby. Traffic was light. Police presence was minimal. Might have had something to do with the 38 degree weather in June, but if you live in Portland, I image you're pretty much immune to such temperature extremes.

Everywhere I went, students wtih glowing neon attenae on their heads were wishing me "congratulations", "good luck" and "whoo-hoo!" as if *I* had just graduated, or my arrival was the fulfillment of some ancient prophecy and now the Wicked Witch was indeed, dead. Not at all a bad way to be greeted on ones first time visit to a city after a long drive.

At first it took me some time to get my bearings, because every other block seemed to be dedicated to some art space or public park. I thought maybe I had stumbled across some chi-chi bohemian district and that the urban core was hidden somewhere else. Then I realized that chi-chi and bohemian was Portland's version of a proper downtown business district and that brought a smile to my face. If it weren't for the obscenely cold temperatures, I might even consider living there.

I quickly discovered not to use "scenic drive" signs as navigational aids when making my way around the city. Because in Portland, EVERY OTHER BLOCK is a scenic drive. Using scenic drive signs to locate your way in the city is about as effective as leaving a trail of breadcrumbs. I quickly became lost. Not hopelessly lost or teeth-grindingly aggravated lost, but the type of lost one gets in a museum or county fair. Everything was pretty, and entertaining, but not a bathroom in sight.

One moment I was cruising around downtown, the next I made a turn and was dumped onto a 6 lane superhighway plowing through a forrested canyon surrouned by towering mountains on either side. I thought only San Diego and DC had such bizarre twists and turns - from urban core to wildnerss in just five seconds.

It took me a good twenty minutes before I could find a suitable place to turn around (not that I minded much). All the while the East Coaster in me was sizing up all that unused land with an appraisers eye. After all, trees don't pay taxes; office and residential towers do.

I have a theory that if we ever start putting cities under huge pollution free domes. Portland will be the second one to go under. (DC will be the first, because Congress will once again vote themselves special privleges.) Everything was so pristine, so well laid out, I was almost tempted to be suspicious. It's like an ecological Disney land. And I kept waiting to hear rumors of disgruntled horticulturalists who travelled underground on golf carts going from site to site, watering and pruning all the foliage. But that's just crazy.

Isn't it?

I topped my stay off with a nice dinner at a local after-hours bistro that had a live DJ in the foyer (!!!!) I can't think of the last time I've come across an after-hours restaurant that served anything other than reheated Americana (chicken fingers, burgers, etc.) or diner food (pancakes, BLT, eggs and toast, etc.) But this was upscale with a menu full of all the types of vegetables that you never see at the grocery stores because all the rich folk and restauranteurs snap them up before they hit the market.

On the way back, I stopped off at Olympia (capitol of Washington state) which has a downtown very reminiscent of sleepy desert towns in Texas: department stores that no longer exist, wide bouelvards, kids driving around aimlessly in pick-up trucks, signs everywhere for a failing chamber of commerce, chrome marquees, movies that ended circulation months ago, and light green tile on government buildings (always a dead giveaway that SOMETHING IS HORRIBLY WRONG HERE.)

The Capitol building of Olympia is quite pretty at night. I'd give you a more detailed description, but IT WAS BARRICADED MORE EFFECTIVELY THAN THE WHITE HOUSE. I can walk up to the fence around the White House and take a snap shot if I want with a miniumum of fuss. I could even set myself on fire as a protest gesture on the sidewalk if I wanted and be pretty much a pile of ash before anyone got to me. But if you're planning on taking a photo at night of the Washington state capitol building. You better be wearing kevlar and a jetpack because these cowboys will kill you, pardner.

I know there's a war on terrorism and all, but I don't think in the desert wastes of Pakistan Mullah Omar is sitting around plotting how to spray herbicides on the front lawn of the Washington state capitol building as a blow against Western imperialism.

posted at 10:51 AM

  After a marathon session of web surfing this weekend (24 consecutive hours) I discovered a photo of what appears to be my evil twin. (Opinions vary, some say the likeness is more like brother-like or even vaguely similar.) I'll be posting the photos, time permitting, tonight.

I'm both surprised and disturbed by this discovery. I've always fancied myself as unique, so the discovery that I'm not is a major let-down. The upside is that my genetic make-up exists in some fashion outside of my own family. So like a weed that just won't die, "Frank" will live on.

My evil twin, unlike me, is buff, and I expect is having lots of hot sex. Hopefully he didn't get the brains as well. That would be just too depressing.

posted at 10:28 AM

  ...and for that I apologize. Pet ownership is much different than blogging. Pets have to be fed, watered and walked every day. If I ignore the blog, who will hear its plaintive cry?

I was on the METRO this morning and noticed a rather casually well-dressed man carrying a lawyers briefcase (those oversized trunks used for bringing files to and from court) talking on a cell phone. He was however barefoot. He had decided, through some sort of twisted lawyerly logic, that it was perfectly, socially acceptable to take off his shoes and stand barefoot in the car. Even if the air conditioning was off, which it wasn't, this would still be unnacceptable. And as a lawyer, with a warddrobe that cost easily my monthly food budget, he should know better.

Notice I said barefoot, not "in stocking feet."

In that moment, I realized why I am not God. For if I were God, I would have risen up in terrible Old Testament Biblical anger and drowned the enter fracking city. Rudeness is seriously beginning to get on my nerves.
posted at 10:21 AM