Gay Marriage: Is Injustice Anywhere Still a Threat to Justice Everywhere?

Recently, Brad Warner, a Buddhist practitioner, questioned whether a "less threatening" gay platform might help pass same-sex marriages into existence in the United States. 

I have quoted an excerpt from his post to provide a reference point to the questions it raised within me: 

Dig. You had parents come up on stage with their children saying, "I want to teach my little girl that if she wants to marry a girl when she grows up, she can." You had a pair of 14 year old girls saying they wanted Prop 8 overturned so they could be married when they grew up. You had high school boys pledging their love for one-another and dancing together. And you had Jerry Rubin, for God's sake! Jerry Rubin!

All of this is exactly what scares the opponents of same-sex marriage. If they wanted to inflame the hearts and minds of their supporters they could just have video taped that rally and put it on YouTube without comment. Maybe they did!

Now, I believe everyone should have the right to live as they want to as long as it doesn't harm anyone else. But what these folks are fighting for is a to be recognized by the society as a whole as OK, safe, not threatening the established order. You can't win that kind of recognition by giving your opponents precisely what scares them the most...

I don't know if having moderately gay presenters would make same-sex marriages any less threatening.

If a presenter at a prop 8 rally in support of same-sex marriage is moderately or overtly gay, he or she will still be at odds with most Americans who aren't willing to accept homosexuals--let alone the possibility for a same-sex marriage.

Maybe, we could identify the problem at all rallies--both for and against any issue--as the attitude and anger that comes with the acts of protesting. If an individual weren't so angry, and could approach a protest with a wider lens, they just might be exactly who they are without forcing an identity or position onto others.

I don't know if this is possible, but it does make me curious about successful protesters, such as Martin Luther King, Jr. and Mahatma Gandhi. Were they successful because of their non-violent approach? What created success for them? Were they less black or Indian? Or was it because they simply marched and protested without being in a state of aggression?

I don't know. I'm guessing there might be something there. I can say this because I am constantly in some kind of protest or another. I'll hear my wife, mom, friend--you name it--tell me some story, and I'll run with it, taking sides and trying to prove my point by pushing other people's buttons when I can't convince them I'm right--whether I'm aware I'm doing such a thing or not.

I think I'm better off when I don't take sides. I don't know, though. How can I not take sides in certain situations? Like when people are being discriminated because of sexual orientation?

I would say half the times I get upset are when I hear that someone is being hurt or discriminated in some way. It makes me angry immediately. I go right for trying to help. I might say something that doesn't help though. I might even go to a protest and wear a Prince Albert chained to a friend in a Pride festival. I don't know. It's possible.

I suppose I definitely want to throw up my anger on people when I feel like I am right. That probably makes other people uncomfortable or annoys them. I can see that, Brad. I don't know if it's a question of the level of one's exhibitionism as much as the attitude that brings such behavior about though.

Who knows? We could also start talking about how any level of exposure at a protest puts the actual exhibition within a more exaggerated context. Just think of a rock show. If you have Green Day playing at a protest rally, it'll be different than seeing them at a stadium. The climate will suddenly change based on the location. Suddenly, the songs will be more political and less fun. Couldn't this be the intention of some overtly gay presenters--just having fun? Could they simply just be acting as exactly the people they are? Could homosexuals be seen as more threatening to individuals who are not exposed to homosexuality simply because they are presenting at a public protest?

It's a tough call. All in all, I would say there is going to be discrimination whether an individual is "overtly gay", or trying to pass as someone who is "less gay". Since Proposition 8 is linked to this dilemma, I don't see same-sex marriages being allowed until homosexuality is accepted.

Having a platform where A-gay folks, like Ellen Degeneres, are presenters during campaigns might bring more votes to the Prop 8 cause, but it certainly won't bring all the homosexuals who are at this very moment "passing" as doctors, lawyers, milkmen, postal workers, investment bankers--and other jobs where a majority of "moderate" homosexuals might be found--into the forefront of the debate. They are simply busy hedging between saying anything or sitting on the sidelines (much like that recent Tom Cruise movie, "Vallkyrie", where Nazis are afraid to come out against Hitler, unless they know they're going to be supported). That's why you have more of the "overt" crowd representing at this point--folks are still too frightened.

It's simply going to take more discrimination and unfair laws passed--and people affected--before there are enough moderates to organize the homosexual population and its supporters into a legitimate political power--capable of raising votes, shaking hands, and kissing babies.

Who knows? Now could be the time for the beginning of change. What do you all think?

Loren Goodman and I Discuss Top Five Songs of All Time

Loren Goodman and I were talking about the top five songs of all time. 

"You remember that Rolling Stones song?"

"Which one? Brown Sugar?" Loren asked.

I looked it up on Youtube...

"That's a good song," I said. "Oh, wait. That's not it. What's it called?"

"I don't know."

"Oh, yeah. Here it is. Beast of Burden!"

"That's a good song."


"I like this song," Loren said. 

Loren plays the song over his vid chat. I can't see the video playing

"Oh, yeah! The Eagles! I like this song."

"No, not the Eagles."

"Who is it then?"

"I sent it to you."


"In the chat window."

I hear the vocals kick in. 

"Is it Neil Young?"

"No, the Rolling Stones."

"Oh, okay."

I am not very good at guessing songs without images. I am also horrible with names. I can remember faces like forever. I don't know what it is though. I just can't seem to remember any names -- not even of famous poems. It all just leaves my mind immediately. God knows how I have ever passed any exam in my life. I don't know. I would prefer drawing on those multiple choice exams instead. Well, not really. I'm not like Kirk Cameron in the TV show or anything. I'm more like a left-handed Theo or something.

"I think your more like the drummer for Def Leppard," Loren said. 

"What about a no-handed Rocky Balboa?"

"A cornflake in a cereal bowl?"

"Kurt Coban in a David Bowie song with ten cups of lemon tea?"

"A milk truck with trademark signature done by Andy Warhol and Jean Michel Basquiat?"

"David Carradine without feet in a Kung Fu match against Bruce Lee?"

We talked like this for a while. Then we started making faces into Mac's iChat where you can distort your face and all. Loren made himself into a rastafari by pushing his long hair into angles exaggerated by the camera, played Bob Marley, and saying my name with a Jamaican accent. 

"Pirrrrooooz! Piirrrooozzz!" he sang-songed.

 Then we got back to our lists. 

"That's a good one," Loren said. "It's my turn."

"Hit me," I said. 

I liked watching this video. It made me want to play the guitar. 

"Pirrrooooz!" Sogee called down to me from the kitchen.

"I'm coming."

We only started exploring Nirvana and others before it got into the wee hours of the morning on our vid chat. 

"Don't forget to get me your top five list," I told Loren before he signed off.


I bet he comes up with some good ones. I think looking for great songs with best friends is the best way to pass one's existence on the planet Earth. I love music so much. 

What do you think? What are your top five songs of all time?

Meeting about Indie Film Being Shot in Youngstown

Royal Oaks, 8 PM
924 Oak St
Thursday, June 4th

Noah Cicero and Pirooz Kalayeh will give a brief talk about the novel and future film. Then a sign-up sheet will be passed around for those who are interested. 

"The Human War" Filming Location: Youngstown, Ohio Meeting Date: June 4th, 2009 Time: 8 PM Meeting Location: The Royal Oaks, 924 Oak St, Youngstown, OH 44506 (330) 744-5501. Produced by Sangha Films -  

Brad Warner on Buddhists Jerking Off

I like that Brad Warner is opening such a stuffy subject. It makes me look forward to sitting with Brad on Saturdays when Sogee and I finally get to Los Angeles. I'm also glad religious people will be more likely to get some much needed release.

Team Freedom Runs Los Angeles Marathon

My brother ran the Los Angeles Marathon in 3:35:00. That's pretty fast. I told him I would ride a bike next to him next time he goes. It's the only way I could keep up. 

Here are his soul buddies. They grew up together in Delaware. It's pretty cool to see them do amazing things like this together. If you haven't given Paiman, John, or Lee kudos, you can find them on Facebizzle.  

Dad and Gorbechov

My dad and his cat, Gorbechov, have a special bond. He calls for it and Gorby will come up the stairs and sit on his lap. Then they play at kneading each other into heaven for an hour or so. My mother usually says, "Look at that! Do you see that? It's his girlfriend." Then my dad smiles wryly to himself. I look over at Sogee. She looks over at my dad and Gorbechov. Then Gorby looks over at my mom and says, "Brrreooow?"

Sogee's Makeup Experiment #1

Makeup Experiment #1

Sogee is working on her makeup abilities for our "NY Family Wedding" in August. She says she will try everyday until August. This is her latest experiment. I told her we need to post these up, so we can have people vote on Shikow. She screamed and said "No!"  

"Do you want my advice or not?"

"Tell me."

"Your lips are way too red. You need to tone down your cheeks too. Maybe pick something closer to your skin tone."

Sogee opens her mouth in shock. Then she gets slightly exacerbated. 

"I am going to try again now."

I didn't have the heart to tell her I once worked in a makeup boutique on 5th Avenue. She might think I was telling the truth. 

Mom Celebrates Birthday with Dylan Singalong and Tuba Playing

My mom celebrated her birthday this week by taking Sogee to the Lilac Festival in Rochester. They came back with lots of funnel cake. I tried one piece. Then I stopped. I am in P90X mode. That kind of thing is not allowed. I must stay disciplined. 

I decided to sing songs to my Mom instead. That would keep my mind off of cake. We started with "Happy Birthday" and moved onto "Like a Rolling Stone". It's a song by Bob Dylan. It's not that bad. There a re a lot of verses, but I can sing it if I shut off the part of my brain that wants to complain about how may verses there are. 

After we sang Dylan, we stopped singing. My Mom was playing the tuba. She wanted to bring her life meaning again. That was actually the name of the song: "Bring My Life Meaning Again". Sogee played the harpsichord. I didn't play anything. I am not much of a player. I just sat and listened. I am a good listener. I can sit for hours listening to a tuba and harpsichord jam. 

Here is my Mom rocking with some of her friends. There's no harpsichord, but you can feel the tubas. They sound like dolphins running out of air and dying because there is too much pollution. 

I wish people were able to recycle their own trash.  

Tao Lin & Others Being Famous and Non-famous and Doing Famous and Non-famous Things

Tao Lin continues to promote well, selling his Myspace page for $8,100, and obtaining more fame in the process. 

Brad Warner, Zen master & blogger, discusses how being a professional writer can only be done if you are famous, and that is what he is trying to create. 

Now here are pictures of Doug being cool and tough on my latest visit to Delaware. 

According to Doug, he will get people to invest in The Human War film. He also said, "He will destroy all those who do not." I am glad he said this. It is not something I could say, since I am running a legitimate business. 

Here is Sogee looking for work on South Street. 

Here I am waiting for an actor to be famous in our movie. 

Here are two jokers that invested in THE HUMAN WAR simultaneously. 

Plan C and other Organic Vitamins

His statue.

Her statue.

People have been asking lately, so I'll lay it out. The latest plans are that Sogee and I are here in Pittsford, NY, until we figure out a) whether or not I plan on doing a PhD, b) if she would like to find a job of some sort, or c) we just decide to move to L.A. without any plan at all.

Today I am leaning towards Plan C. I am not much of a planner, although I have been more of one since I went to South Korea. The culture may have rubbed off on me in that sense, or I am simply less inclined to take risks because I am aware--or afraid--of what those risks might entail. And let's face it. I feel more responsible with Sogee by my side.

At the moment, being married to a person who is still acclimating to a new culture is like being married to a teenager. She vacillates from one plan to the next, and is very impressionable about the latest fad on TV, or the newest product she might see at a friend's home.

"We have to buy organic from now on," Sogee said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because it's healthier," she said.

"Okay," I said. "Buy organic."

Yesterday, when I picked her up from her latest trip in St. Louis, it was a brand new day. I had just pulled away from the airport. The merge onto the highway was made. I relaxed in my seat. I even put my hand under my right cheek--as I am prone to do on long road trips--in preparation of the 20 minutes or so of driving, until we got to Pittsford. I figured I'd hear about the trip. She had been in St. Louis for a week. I was wrong, though. Her mind was still rooted in the big bad world of to shop organic or not.

"We don't need to buy organic anymore," Sogee told me with confidence. "It's filled with germs."

"Where did you hear that?"

"The girl I stayed with in St. Louis. She told me that people just think it's healthier. It's a placebo. It's actually filled with more pesticides and chemicals because people don't clean it properly."

"I don't know if that is true. How do you know your friend is right?"

"She is a pharmacist."

"Pharmacists know about whether to buy organic or not? Aren't they the ones who just fill prescriptions at a drugstore?"

"No, she works for a company. That's her job. She is supposed to analyze statistics. Her specialization is nutrition."

"Okay. So we don't need to buy organic."

"That's right."

"How was your trip?"

"It was okay. I learned a lot."

It is in moments like the one above--or countless others--where as a married guy you got to bite your tongue from stating the obvious and getting put in a doghouse for a day and a half. I usually can't resist. It's the reverence for being irreverent that gets me every time. I just can't resist pulling chairs out from under monks, and painting glow in the dark messages on a psychics' walls. I'm a prankster. I am also a sadist in some senses--we don't have to go into the specifics--at least not in this post.

"It sounds like you learned a lot about shopping organic."

"Yes, I did. I also learned from my friends."

"What did you learn?"

"I got to see them. What they're doing. Now I can see."

"What can you see?"

"What I don't want to be."

"What don't you want to be?"


"What do you want to be?"

"Me," Sogee laughs. "I just want to be me."

The rest of the car ride I think about what will become of the two of us. We are two of the strangest people on the planet. She bailed out of the typical boxed life of Korean society in favor of being the intrepid explorer. She married a waygooken (American), and could care less what happens tomorrow. She is completely free and slightly anxious simultaneously. I, on the otherhand, seem to keep falling into the parental role of do-gooder, when I could give two shits about any of that. Personally, I am probably an exact mirror for my wife. Like her, I am impressionable, an explorer, impulsive, and given to trusting pharmacists when they say serious shit about organic food products.

"So they're bad, huh?" I ask.

"What?" Sogee asks.

"Organic foods."

"They're not bad or good. It just doesn't matter. They could be bad with the chemicals."

"Like apples and things."


"So don't buy any organic stuff anymore."


"Can't you just wash the fruit?"

"My friend was talking about the milk."

"What else did you find out?"

"Lots of things."

I listen to Sogee tell me the finer points of Real Estate as I pull into my parent's driveway. I am happy she seems to be interested in pursuing something as a potential job. I hope each week we might be closer to seeing a final winner. I think that to myself. At the same time, I think that maybe none of this matters. Maybe, that is just who we are--aimless wanderers. Paths and plans will find us. It's not the other way around.

"You think maybe going to L.A. in August is too soon?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I don't know. If I apply to PhD programs, then we might have to move again the next year. Maybe, we can just stick here until we find out if I get in."

"In Pittsford?"

"I know it's boring here, but that's a lot of money to make two moves. How do I know I'll get into a school in L.A.."

"That's true."

"Then we also need to admit the fact that maybe I won't even do a PhD. Like I don't get in anywhere, or maybe we just go to L.A.."

"Whatever you decide, I'll follow you."



"Yeah, I have no idea."

"Let's think it over for a couple days."


Sogee is already halfway to the front door. I look into my rearview and see all the luggage. It's an understood thing among married couples, I assume--the man must pick up the bags. Who knows? Maybe, it's something we learned in Asia. I have no idea. I pick up her suitcase that we painted before her trip to America. It's got little messages from her Dad, like "good fortune!" and "health" and lots of other sayings in Korean. I have no idea what they mean. I don't even understand the one thing I wrote on there: "I love you more than tape!" What is that supposed to mean? It must be some inside joke long forgotten. Whatever. I carry the bag up the front walk and to the front door. I don't say a word, as I carry the luggage up the stairs to our bedroom. Sogee is there, though--watching me. I look up and catch her giggling. I guess I must have been singing with each of my grunts up the staircase.

"What?" I ask.

"Nothing," she says.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"I just like looking at you."

"Okay," I say.


I am about to embark on an adventure known as P90X. I did the 10 Minute Trainer videos last summer. Now that I am approaching my one year anniversary of quitting smoking, I think I'll be able to do this. Man, I am so excited! I am just going to rock this thing out of the park! I am going to take before and after pictures! I am going to get to be on those infomercials. It's going to be great. I can really see it. I am like there--in my mind already. Like--poof! There! 

[Pirooz sits on the steps next his cumbersome box of health. He looks it up and down narrowly. He wonders if this is the right choice. He wonders...] 

That box is pretty big! I don't know... 

I think I'll be able to do it if I have an amulet. That's all it'll take. Just ask Merlin for a little something out of his top hat. That'll get things rolling. Yes!! I will rock an amulet. I'll be like the Lancelot of P90X. Watch out! Give me some dumbbells! I am ready!!!

Does anyone have an amulet? Where do you get one? No, seriously. Is there a place to go? Like one of those magic stores? Do I call someone? Hold on...

I just Googled "amulets" and "magical". You are not going to believe this! I can totally make an amulet myself. I can choose the color, construct it, and even inscribe it with "magical alphabets". I am so going to rock this. Shit, I can even consecrate this bad boy with a ceremony of my choosing. Oh, yeah!! 

I can see the ceremony now. I am like lying down on my bed. It's raining outside. I'm just lying there like totally chill. The amulet is around my neck. I get my parents to chant. They're like: "Oh, great amulet from distant lands. We believe in your abilities. Give us your powers to make this young man feel younger and practice doing the P90X."

Then Sogee walks up in the same outfit as Princess Leia wore in Return of the Jedi. That would so be the bomb! I am doing it right now. I am like knitting that outfit. I can learn how to knit in like what--10 minutes. Shit, you will not see a better knitter, than a guy who is ready to get his Princess Leia Jedi on. You better believe it. 

So how do I learn how to knit?  I guess I could Google that too. Jeez, I am beat. I've got to do all this work now. This is going to take a while--a princess Leia suit, teaching my parents how to consecrate the amulet, designing the amulet, and then doing the P90X. It's going to take a while. Man, I don't feel like doing anything. Okay. We'll see. I am up. I am going to rock it. I am looking up Leia costumes on the Web...

Robin Blaser

I have spent the morning looking for Robin's list of books for me to read.  I remember that he thought I was slightly mad to want this from him. 

The list reads as follows:

                  Jack Spicer                     Collected Books
                  Robert Duncan            Opening of the Fields
                  Charles Olson              Selected Works, ed. Robert Creeley
                  Rober Creeley              For Love
                  Jean-Luc Nancy           The Inoperative Community

Shikow Correspondent Tornadoes Through Philadelphia

Welcome to Sogee's experience of Philadelphia. Our trip includes some of the finest pieces on exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, as well as numerous photos of eating cheesesteaks. 

No trip could begin without an homage to Rocky Balboa. Although we have pics of the marvelous Sogee holding her hands above her head on the top of the museum's steps, officials here at Shikow withdrew our pledge for them to be included, citing a certain VP's interest in only offering photos that showed our talent correspondent in only the most alluring and sophisticated of poses. 

"No pose would be complete without a sleek urinal circa 1917," Our travel correspondent said, after inspecting Marcel Duchamp's Fountain for vestiges of other "found" objects. "Can you smell that? It's the epitome of cleanliness?"

Sogee was fascinated with Cy Twombly's, Fifty Days of Illiam, an interpretation of Homer's Illiad

She thought Jackson Pollock's pre-drip painting collages were reminiscent of my work. 

"Mmmm," I said. 

I would have rather she pointed at the Picasso. 

Even Cy Twombly would have been a better comparison. 

I understand though. I am a self-taught artist. They taste different to the eyes. It's almost like finding things in the street. You don't know if it's art or not. It takes a closer inspection to see if what you're seeing is the real thing. 

"That's right, folks!" Sogee says into the microphone by her recorder. "We are here on South Street. The home of cheesesteaks, Bel Biv Devoe, and the "Magic Gardens" of Isiah Zagar."

Zagar has been a major attraction on South Street. People stop by his "...Gardens" regularly, and often come to the city for specifically that purpose. I first saw his work in 1996. It was an epiphanous moment about how art can transform a city and be a community act simultaneously. 

To help Zagar continue to change the face of Philadelphia, you are welcome to make a donation and receive an original mural as well.  

A trip to Philadelphia would not be complete without cheesesteaks...

Or finding the cover for Jim Goar's future book of poetry. 

(Sign reads: "Look!!!!! Biggest bargain since The Louisiana Purchase".)

"Well, thank you for joining us on our Philadelphia experience. We hope you'll join us in the coming weeks for our trip to Youngstown, Ohio."

[Sound of wind and clothing against the microphone.]

"Okay. That was great."

"Was I supposed to do anything else?"

[More wind.]

"No, that's it."

"Do I have to hit stop on the tape?"

"Yeah, just hit that button on the iPod."

[The gust abates.]

"This one?"

Relationships and other Atomic Particles

Relationships can be so difficult. There are the crazy family members, the sudden high school reunions, the homeless, proselytizers, a much younger, second wife, aging in-Laws, troubled directors, an angry checkout attendant, road rage, that damn GPS Bonnie over and over in my head: "Make a left. Make a left." Then John Lennon killing it all "Grooving up slowly...Hair down to his knees! Got to be a joker. Just do what he please." How can we deal with the mess? Do we even need to?

The other day I was talking to my youngest brother. He was on his latest adventure in making the next Justin Timberlake...

"I started an L.L.C. I am going to try and get some investments coming in, you know? We've got things moving," he tells me.

"Have you got a website? A business card?" I ask. 

"Not yet. I'm working on it."

A thousand ideas roll through my head. I think about doing it for him: I could put it together in a few days. Then I get realistic: With what time? Who's life is this?



"Alright, bro," I smile into the receiver. "You got it all under control. If you need me to do some copyediting for your website, let me know."

"Yeah, that would be chill."

"I hear you. Just lay it to me two weeks before your deadline."

"That would be cool, man."

"Well, dude, you seem to have everything under control. I'm not the business wiz. Hit me up when you break up with a gal or something. I'm good at talking about the human stuff."


I put down the phone. I look at what I've written here. Actually, I don't. I don't ever look anymore. I just go with it as fast as possible. I remember that I am supposed to talk about how relationships are hard. I remember my example, my illustration, my brother. I think: 

My life has been knowing when to let people be people. I get so involved in trying to help people I sometimes forget that it's not my job. I've actually got to make a living myself.

That being said internally, and now externally to you. I don't know if you would get how that sums up human relationships or not. There are so many differences from one to the other, but they all hold that same texture--ultimately, they are them and that's their job. They are doing what they need to be doing. 

Questions strike, as "Hey Jude" blasts through the house. 

(The cat hiding beneath the couch; I turn the music louder.) 

Are you doing what you need to be doing? Are you happy? Can you do something right now that doesn't involve figuring out someone else's life? Can you stop trying to figure out your own and start living it? 

(I start dancing in my seat. The cat tilts its head in curiosity.)

This morning I thought about Sogee. I could see her as a smooth rock on a seashore. Her hand and face this rock: imperfect and fitting under my cheek--And for what purpose? For how long?

Thoughts again to pull you away from the truth. Such is the poetry of inability. 

People--every human being you might see--has their personal life. They're living it. You are living yours. You bounce off each other. Colliding atoms and stories. There is nothing personal about it. They move their atoms. You move yours. If you think of your atoms as better, smarter, or more entitled, you'll stop seeing and living simultaneously. People will become checkout attendants, angry cashiers, crazy aunts, police officers, troubled school teachers--who gave you these adjectives? Who said to stop seeing nuclear fission

I am atomic. You are atomic. Break it down to its simplest forms: My lovely paramecium or protozoa. Move it into orbit--galactic distribution: aerial topography. Take it back. "With these ice caps melting down...

(I am not my words. I am not that cat.)

If you could see a fish gasp for life before you ate it
If you could see your wife as a series of atomic particles
If your father drew his breadth from melting arctic snowcaps
If the homeless recycled spare change into drinking receptacles
If proselytizers held wakes for failed presidential campaigns
If a mechanic could add mufflers to exhaust a much younger, second wife
If your supervisor grew tusks
If an atomic bomb dismantled itself
If a troubled director replaced Tom Cruise with a mechanical bull
If an angry checkout attendant apologized for AIG 
If road rage was only a quarter and better than pinball
If GPS Bonnie told you that you were hot

Would you make a left? 

Search Ends for Poet, Craig Arnold (***Update***)

Craig Arnold, poet and professor, is still missing in Japan after ten days. His brother, Chris Arnold, is now searching with a quarter of the residents on the small, volcanic island where he was last seen. 

Donations for his family's search can be made here


Update: Arnold has been presumed dead after search teams traced his tracks to a cliff face--"a high and dangerous cliff, and there is virtually no possibility he could have survived the fall," reports explained. 

A Non-Celebrity Tennis Match: Mats, Moxy, or Mott's?

Most people get envious when their siblings get to see Radiohead at the Spectrum. Personally, I am not much of a concert goer. I can also say that I wouldn't need Oxygen, or suffer a fainting spell should I miss an NBA game with Kobe Bryant. I just don't care for people who wear fancy shoes or sweat for a living. I do enjoy watching dramatic tennis matches though. I especially like seeing underdogs like Jimmy Connors play. But my favorite things to watch are charity tennis matches. They are also what make me most envious of my brother. Just think he got to see Will Ferrell and Mats Wilander square off with Andy Richter as an umpire. That's up there with Bobbie Riggs playing the chavunist card to raise some cash and challenge Billie Jean King to a "Battle of the Sexes" match and losing. Okay. Well, it wasn't that great. Yet in mind it seems really good. I can see the match being funny and I am curious about the serves. Did Ferrell raise his back leg? Was he totally drunk? 

I would like to be in a non-celebrity charity match. If anyone wants to play me at Pittford Mendon High School at 9 a.m. on Saturday, I am game. You can bring your older brother, sister, or even a gaggle of U.S. Open retirees. I am willing to play all comers. If you just want to watch me hit a wall or something because no one shows up, then that can be arranged as well. There are nice grassy banks by the wall, where you can relax and see me hit the wall 30 or 40 times with a zsig-zag ball before I miss, and when or if I do, we can chat about other things as I pick up the ball. You could ask about my love for Courtney Love (she is great), or the best way to end an unhappy marriage (buy a shotgun), or even the simplest path to getting home from the high school (make a left down Route 64). I am in my element and I am ready. Any takers?