matthearn.com

Those of you who don’t see me very often probably haven’t been aware that I’ve lost a rather significant amount of weight; I’m down to about 220 lbs, from nearly 260 at the beginning of the year. I was a big mammajamma.

(For those who are curious how I did it, I attribute the loss to three core lifestyle changes:

1. I switched to diet soda, which cut probably 500 calories a day from my intake.
2. I stopped eating most carbs in general.
3. I moved into a house where there is not a Burger King within 5 minutes walking distance.)

Anyway, in an effort to get a good grasp on my general health and well-being, I went over to this handy Body Mass Index calculator to see if I’m considered by the medical establishment to be as svelte as I feel I have now become. So I enter my weight (220, in case your short-term memory is as reliable as mine), and my height (6 foot 3 inches) and get back “27.5.”

Wait a minute. 27.5? That’s still considered “overweight!” Anything between 25 and 30 is overweight. (Above 30 is apparently called “morbidly obese.” Anything above 40 is usually named “bovine.”) In fact, to get to under 25 and be non-overweight, I’d have to either grow 4 inches, or get down to less than 200 pounds.

Folks, if I ever tell you I weight less than 200 pounds, you need to get me to a doctor immediately.

So I propose a new way to calculate fitness. It’s called Matt Hearn’s “Am I Fat?” Index. Here’s how it works:

1. First, take your weight, in pounds, and divide by 2.2 to get your mass in kilograms. (Working in metric is easier. Trust me. Several million drunken Europeans can’t be wrong.)
2. Next, calculate your height in inches: multiply the number of whole feet by 12, and add that to the number of inches. Example: I am 6’3″, so I am 6*12+3=75 inches tall. Then migrate this to approximate decimeters by dividing by 4.
3. Next, go get some beer. You’ll need the muscle relaxants for the next step. If you have something low carb, that’s fine, but just about any decent swill will do. (For this I tend to use a double-deuce of Colt 45.) Drink the beer as rapidly as possible. Record the number of gulps it took.
4. Now we have to measure your flexibility. If possible, set a video camera up to get this on tape and send it to me. Stand with your feet spread as far apart as you can, holding the empty beer can/bottle over your head, and attempt to reach the stars. The stars, I say! Not just the ceiling! REACH FOR THOSE ANGELIC DOTS IN THE HEAVENS, MY SON! TOUCH THEM LIKE YOU’VE TOUCHED MY HEART!

   Um . . . sorry, got a little over the top there. I’m okay now, thanks.

5. Take your calculated flexibility value (you don’t have it? Sheesh. Go back a step and PAY BETTER ATTENTION) and multiply it by your calculated mass in kilograms. Subtract from that the number of gulps it took to drink the beer, divide the total by the number of ounces in said beer, square the result, divide by the Golden Ratio, and then go get some frickin’ Häagen-Dazs and relax. You deserve it.

Was anyone else aware that Bondo, when mixed, turns bright pink? I opened up the tub of filler, noted the expected grey color of the material inside, and then wondered what the other tube of stuff was for. Well, it’s the “hardener,” since apparently Bondo doesn’t just harden on its own. The hardener itself is flame red, so when mixed it all becomes pink.

As usual, I didn’t have the good sense to get any “before and after” pictures, but I’ll be sure to get a picture of my pink accents when I return home this afternoon. Right now it looks completely absurd; a black truck with a pink area of unsanded goop around the right rear wheelwell. (As my father-in-law put it, “I’m sure that makes a statement.” I’m not sure what statement that would be, and I’m fairly certain he wouldn’t really want me making it, but let’s move on.)

Anyway, the stuff seems to work quite well, if you’re willing to deal with it getting all over the place. (My fingers were Bondo’d together at one point, and I had to have Sarah chisel them apart.) I need more sandpaper, since I used all of my 80-grit removing the paint from the dent, and I need to slather on a bit more filler to get it out to the proper thickness. Bondo dries in less than half an hour, so I can sand it almost right away. With any luck, the rain will hold off this afternoon, and I’ll be able to apply the rest of the stuff, sand it to the proper shape, and prime it.

I imagine the sanding will take a very long time, so hopefully I won’t be interrupted by rain. I also need to drive to my grandmother’s and pick up a treadmill of which she wants to rid herself, so I’ve got a full evening, and if it rains I’m basically screwed. I really want to get primer on the truck before Saturday, since if it rains constantly over the next week like it’s supposed to, I have bare sheet metal that will probably corrode. Which probably means I have to completely start over. Which probably means I will start sanding off my own skin.

Anyway, if this ends up working, I might try to fix the gas tank on the motorcycle, which has a large, unsightly dent in it, from when I, um, dropped it on the driveway. Of course, I don’t have any more of the cool two-color paint to put on it, which will irk my wife. Not that the bike runs anyway.

I really need to get it working, though, since it’s due to be re-registered at the end of September, and one of the things they seem to always check at inspection is whether or not the vehicle in question actually starts. Of course, since both the bike shop and the DMV are within 2 miles of my house, I probably could make it one and/or the other without getting pulled over by the fuzz. And I think the DMV will issue a temporary tag so that currently unregistered vehicles can drive over to get inspected.

Oh, and in the interests of sharing too much information:

Has anyone else ever burped up stomach acids and accidentally inhaled them into your windpipe? No? It’s not a great way to wake up. At 5:25 this morning, I’m in the bathroom drinking water, coughing uncontrollably, trying not to throw up, and crying like my father during “A Few Good Men.” Bad times all around.

Every time I took a deep breath, I had to cough. Every time I coughed, the pain got worse. So I finally got back into bed, taking shallow breaths to avoid hacking my larynx out of my neck, and sobbed silently into my pillow for roughly an hour, during which the cats were kind enough to purr louder than a threshing machine. (Which I wished was handy so I could fling myself into it.)

Not a fun morning. Tomorrow: why the Body Mass Index is the biggest pile of crap since “Save The Last Dance.”

Okay, sorry, I have to thank a few folks. It’s like I won an Oscar! Well, maybe not. More like a Daytime Emmy. Also, since I own the website, there’s no way the orchestra is going to play me off! I’ll try to actually make it a worthwhile read for those of you who aren’t actually being thanked.

Matt’s Massive List of People To Thank For Their Help and Support Re: Brigadoon

• Friends and family: Everybody that came to see the show, I thank you very much. Your compliments and support inflated my ego to the point at which my massive head naturally floats and isn’t straining my neck muscles, which was kind of you.
• The cast: Easily the most talented group of people I’ve worked with. Dancing, singing, acting; you guys do it all!
• The crew: It was like I didn’t have to do anything but show up, get painted, get dressed, and go onstage. The microphone was installed for me, the costumes were set for me, the props were handed to me while I was standing around “getting into character.” I’ve never seen such brilliant organization, and it made my “job” a lark.
• Evelyn Swensson, Katie Falcone, and the rest of the musicians (particularly the rehearsal accompanists!!!): Singing musical theatre with a full orchestra may be the crowning achievement of my ever-lengthening life, and the folks I mentioned above made it happen. As a reasonably competent musician myself, I know how hard the job is, and I appreciate it more than I can say.
• Bill Peuchen: Sure, he did all the staging, but that stuff’s easy. Bill was most valuable when it came to a kind word, and a constructive critique of my “acting ability,” such as it is. (Per Jennifer’s advice, I’ve got “On The Street Where You Live” mostly memorized; I hope that comes in handy later.)
• Henry Porreca: Speaking of constructive critique. Any growth I may have experienced as an actor (and there’s a lot of room for growth) is mostly Henry’s doing. By the end of the show, I almost WAS Tommy, and Henry is the one to thank. Thusly, um, I thank him.
• Cindy Goldstein: It was absolutely a pleasure getting to know Cindy over the last few months, and her little tidbits of advice (some of which actually came from her husband Lee, who also seems to know what he’s talking about) were MORE than helpful. I credit Cindy with helping me make my mother cry.
• Ariann Langsam: It’s so much easier trying to come off as sensitive and kind when the girl I have to break up with is played so unlikeably well. Ariann, the audience hated Jane almost as much as I like the girl that played her. (Let’s go to the beach and drink martinis until we pass out in a sand dune.)
• Dave Munch: Playing straight man to you was almost unnecessary, since you don’t need anybody else on stage with you to be funny. In fact, you and Cindy onstage together was about the most uproarious scene I’ve watched since that episode of Cops where the guy caught his . . . uh, nevermind. You’re hilarious, is what I’m getting at. Anyway, thanks for putting up with my inability to remember lines, blocking, or the name of my character.
• Jennifer Kennard: Jennifer (aka My Illustrious Costar^TM) is, simultaneously, the most talented actress and singer I’ve ever seen, and the most modest and self-deprecating person with whom I’ve ever had the pleasure of conversing. Add to that a dry wit that sometimes went over MY head, and she’s just about the coolest person of all times and whatnot. She gets a big Thank You from the deepest hackles of my heart. She’s like a good point guard: she’s so good she makes everybody around her better, even my stumbling-bumbling-rumbling self.

  (Her husband Tim also gets my thanks, for letting me kiss his wife without snapping me in half like a twig.)

• Most importantly, my wife: For her love and support, even while watching me smooch another woman (on our anniversary, no less). Sarah is amazing, and has excellent hair, even though I don’t much care for her bangs. 😉 Thank you, DeeDee! I love you muchas! Thanks for getting through a tough couple of months without having your father snap me in half like a twig.

Okay, enough of that. Time to alert you all to a new project I’m starting: fixing the massive dents and scratches on my pickup truck that resulted from a run-in with a large concrete pillar. (The pillar won handily, very handily indeed.) I bought a large number of autobody repair products at Pep Boys yesterday; Bondo, mixing boards, sandpaper, primer, paint, clearcoat, all kinds of stuff. I’ll try to take pictures of each step as it happens; I’m hoping to get the Bondo slathered on and drying this afternoon.

Of course, it will almost certainly rain.

I’ve finally updated the Favorite Searches page, with some stuff from July, including comments.

Sorry I haven’t had an actual column in like 5 days. I promise to have SOMETHING tomorrow, even if it might kinda suck.

Okay, it’s been a few days, my bad. I think you can understand I’ve been a TAAAAD busy. Meanwhile, here’s something high-larious to see, courtesy of my kickin’ new computer (I installed a TV tuner and can record things straight from cable, or, in this case, straight from the VHS tape I made last week):

Matt and Jennifer appear on WHYY-TV:

Folks with cable modems and DSL and T1s, etc., click here.
Folks with regular dialup, click here.

Here’s to 1,461 days (and counting) of fights, nooky, neuroses, unwanted nudity, cats, dancing, and Days Of Our Lives episodes:

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, DEEDEE!

Now let’s fall asleep in front of the TV.

I’m not sure if I’ll have time to post anything substantive today (I’m on duty), so I’ll hit you with a couple quick things:

• I finally bought a new computer yesterday. I say “finally” because the last time I purchased a new computer was 1996. Yes, the super kickass computer professional hasn’t bought a new computer since he graduated high school. Why? Because I’m cheap. Even this new system is a refurbished HP, although it’s got something like 2.20GHz, 512MB of RAM, and 160GB of disk space. I’m so hot for it. You can check it out here. (Somebody let me know if that link is screwy.)

  Is it incredibly lame of me to keep the FedEx tracking page open and refresh it every hour to see if my new computer has moved? I didn’t think so.

• The TV gig went well. It took all of about 15 minutes, which was nice, and I managed to catch it on tape when it aired at 5:30, which was nicer. Just a minute-long bit to close out a news show, but I don’t come across as too stupid. Hopefully I’ll be able to transfer it to the new computer when it comes in next week, although I imagine I’ll probably have to buy a TV tuner card. Oh well. $50 is a small price to pay to violate WHYY‘s copyright! I’m gonna have to drop $50 or so on a wireless networking card anyway.
• We had our “brush-up” rehearsal last night, and it was a little out of control; it’s the only opportunity we have to kinda play fast and loose with the script and the music, and it was over the top. I have to remember that there is a very select group of people that get my obscene brand of humor, and none of them are members of the Brandywiners. I think I may have warped the minds of a couple blue-hairs last night. Bad times. “I thought he was so nice!”
• My homeskillet Brian has taken time out from putting miles on my truck (he’s borrowing it to move) to write a comprehensive review of Brigadoon that you should definitely read.
• A huge “THANK YOU!!!!” to everybody that’s emailed, called, and just tracked me down to tell me face-to-face that you enjoyed Brigadoon. This has been one of the greatest experiences of my life, and I’m absolutely thrilled that the audiences have liked what they’ve seen. The support I’ve been getting from friends, family, and the incredible cast is just . . . I can’t really come up with a suitable adjective to describe it. You folks simply rule.

  Anybody that hasn’t made it out to a show yet, time is running out! Only three shows left. Call 1800 338 6965 to find out about tix; you can probably get them at the door, but I’m pretty sure Saturday is sold out, and it would be frustrating to show up at 8 o’clock only to discover you can’t get in.

Oh, man, <DANA CARVEY>Brigadoon was so good BRIGADOON WAS SO GOOD!</DANA CARVEY> The performances have been really great so far. We’re at the halfway point; we have a “brush-up” rehearsal tonight, and then the final three shows start Thursday. If you haven’t been to see us yet, trust me: it’s worth every penny. 1-800-338-6965 to get your tickets, and yes, you can get them at the door, if they’re not sold out.

Of course, the performances haven’t been without amusing mishaps and interesting occurrences:

• The sound crew cannot, even with my personal electronic expertise, figure this one out: at the end of the show, I go up to the Basin level (if you haven’t been to Longwood, there’s a set of stairs in the middle of the stage that goes up to a second level called the “Basin”) and my microphone immediately stops transmitting. Or the receivers stop receiving, one of the two. It’s fine for the rest of the show, and they’ve tested it themselves on the Basin, but as soon as I go up there for the final scene, I’m inaudible. Luckily, they have a floor mic up there, so they just turn my body mic off and turn the floor up. Totally bizarre.
• Saturday, after the “There But For You Go I” scene, the lighting folks forgot to black out the stage. So My Illustrious Costar^TM and I were stuck in a liplock for at least 10 seconds, until she started giggling. It was classic. Finally we just broke apart and jogged off the stage, still in bright stagelight.
• Sarah, Jennifer, and Ariann have a running gag concerning my ego; mainly how it’s large enough now to affect the orbits of several GPS satellites. (Little do they know it’s just a defense mechanism to keep me from crying all day…::sniff::)

  Anyway, at the expense of probably sounding even MORE egotistical, I have to point out something very strange, and yet something I could definitely get used to: folks calling the ticket office, dropping my name, and getting the royal treatment. A few weeks ago, Craig drops by to pick up a ticket, mentions he’s my friend, and the wonderful folks in the ticket office almost fell all over themselves helping him out. On Friday, our good buddy Kris shows up at Longwood to pick up a last minute ticket, mentions he’s a friend of mine and would like a good seat if anything’s available, and they hand him a 5th row ticket that somebody else had already purchased but didn’t need. For free.

  Like I said, I could get used to that kinda stuff. Does that make me sound extremely arrogant? Yes? Grood.

• Probably as a result of the show, I’ve been hired to sing a concert in early October. Holy crap, it’s like I actually have a singing career! Now if only I could make a CD like Josh Groban and make the big dollaz.
• News: Evelyn Swensson (the music director for Brigadoon) just called me. Apparently WHYY wants Jennifer and me to roll up ons their Wilmington studio so they can tape us getting our sing on and air it this evening. The hotness of this is absotively beyond compare. I’ll update you with news on this event as it occurs.

A big thanks to everybody that showed up to cheer us on over the weekend; I think we had friends drive in from all over creation (well, from Richmond to Hoboken, at least) to see the show. Everybody’s been hell of supportive, and I’m glad that you all enjoyed everything. 3 shows to go! Wish me multiple fracture lower appendages!

Old and busted: doing boring classical music for money.
New hotness: doing musical theatre and getting glowing reviews in the News Journal.

(Although if someone still wants me to come sing classical music for money, it’s not like I’ve stopped. I’m still your manwhore when it comes to money.)

I am a coiner of words. Nothing major, mind you, but I’ve added a few idioms to the local vocabulary in my time, most notably the alternate meaning of “jaunt,” which would basically mean “stuff.” As in, “Stop touching my jaunt or I will pummel you without mercy.”

I am also very interested in reviving slang from years past; you’ve probably heard me mention that I feel personally responsible (and I feel no guilt over this fact) for the reinsertion of “Word!” as an all-purpose exclamation to American English. This was a process begun in approximately 1998, when I began to revive this use of the word, it having died out at approximately the same time the New Kids on the Block broke up. (There may have been others who decided to bring it back at the same time, which would help explain the current widespread use of the phrase, but I can say with 99% certainty that I am the first, and so far one of only a handful of people, to use “Word” as an adjective: “That cheese-steak was totally word.”)

My current personal projects involve the revivals of “def” and “ill,” and I’m also assisting Chris Onstad (creator of Achewood) with the reintroduction of “rad,” and even a totally new form of slang adverb: “hell of.” (Not that Onstad actually knows about my assistance, or my name, or even that I exist as anything but a guy that periodically writes him sweet-smelling anonymous letters that I laboriously bang out on an old Hermes typewriter and leave lipstick kisses on the bottoms by way of signature.)

I am, of course, a leech of OTHER people’s pet slang, which is really the reason I bring all this up. Paul Stamegna, a young friend of mine that I know from working with Brandywine High School, invented a word in 2003 that is a modification of “jaunt:” “jaunpiece.” I thought the construction to be brilliant (it particularly works well in a form that Paul also developed: “Ease up off my jaunpiece,” which I’ve slightly modified a la Strong Bad, “Ease up offs my jaunpiece”), and immediately stole it and began using it everywhere.

A few friends have picked it up, including my wife, my father, and good buddy Colin Pryor. In fact, if you go to Google and search for “jaunpiece,” you get three sites (and a lot of duplicate links that were removed automagically by Google): this one, the Free Range Human (which often has many dirty words on it, so I admit of no affiliation thereto), and Colin’s site.

Which is why I was absotively floored when Jared IM’d me yesterday and told me that the director on his movie, “No Retreat From Destiny” (which will undoubtedly win some award for having the cheesiest name of all time), said “jaunpiece” the other day:

SmithJub (1:00:53 PM): Dude, the director used the term jaunpiece the other day.
matthearndotcom (1:01:06 PM): He what?
matthearndotcom (1:01:14 PM): Holy [rather bad word].
matthearndotcom (1:01:18 PM): I assume he heard it from you?
SmithJub (1:01:22 PM): No.
SmithJub (1:01:27 PM): I never use it.
matthearndotcom (1:01:42 PM): I know the kid that [extremely bad word that I never use unless I’m jaw-droppingly surprised by something or have been stabbed] invented it. How the [yet another dirty word] did it get to some director of whom I’ve never heard?
SmithJub (1:01:54 PM): No idea.
SmithJub (1:02:12 PM): He was in a conversation about something and it just slipped out.

I can’t begin to express my joy at hearing this news. I daresay, I nearly wept. It was so def.

Anyway, last night’s Brigadoon preview went extremely well. Jennifer was still sick, but had visited the doctor and was duly doped up on all kinds of stuff, including a good dose of heroin, from what I understand. She refused to believe this no matter who told her, but she sounded great. I’m not sure what I’m going to do if she actually stops being sick and starts sounding even better.

The rain even held off! We didn’t get a drop, although it was EXTREMELY humid. Tonight’s forecast looks even better, although they’re calling for intermittent thunderstorms from Friday well into the foreseeable future. Hopefully that stuff will break up and not be a factor for the weekend shows, since I have a lot of friends coming in from out of town who can’t do anything but the Saturday show.

So, thanks for those of you that shot us a thought or three yesterday, although whichever one of you it was that managed to enter my brain and replace “I don’t understand it! I’m beginning to feel a little like a damn fool!” with “I don’t understand it! I’m, uh, feel, going insane:” I am going to pummel you without mercy.