A few things to talk about, but let me get the biggest of them out of the way first.

This message is coming to you from my new apartment.

Five weeks ago, I was thinking everything was about to take a change for the better. The CIA Patriots lost, as the rest of the world celebrated. Drew Carey was set to tape six primetime TPIR specials, with $2,000,000 on the line in each show. Queen Madonna was just weeks away from being enshrined in the Rock & Roll Hall Of Fame (the induction takes place tonight, but those idiots at VH1 won't air the ceremonies for another 12 days! Gee, what's wrong? Can't dare not give us Dr. Drew and Surreal Life bullshit?).

Then all hell broke loose.

A few days after the Super Bowl, my sister (the one whom I want nothing to do with) called me, telling me that the financial arrangement I had with my father was history. About two weeks earlier he was put on permanent disability, due to his long list of health problems, and would no longer have the money to send.

Of course, this being my sister, the conversation couldn't end there. She had to be her usual judgemental, mean-spirited, bitchy self and start a fight - because, after all, adding insult to injury is the right way to handle things. I was already quite upset and scared, and didn't need her telling me how to live my life, being a hypocrite (after all, I'm supposed to understand my father's disabilities - which I do - but she can't understand mine), and accusing me of not caring about him (anyone who knows me - which she doesn't - knows I worry myself sick about him every damned day, and have for three years now!).

After I hung up the phone on that bitch, I called my father. I was, needless to say, quite unhappy with him. The issue wasn't so much the money (though, the fact that several thousand dollars of the inheritance he was holding for me will never be seen again, between never fully paying back what he borrowed, and spending it away on his medical expenses without thinking about tomorrow, didn't thrill me). The real issue was how he handled it.

I fully understand the situation he is in, and knew it would happen at some point. My only hope, especially after his back problems became much worse, was that the shit wouldn't hit the fan until I found myself on Section 8.

However, what upset me was that:

1. He didn't tell me for 10 days, when it was a situation that involved both of us.

2. He didn't tell me himself, instead putting it in the hands of THE worst person to handle the situation he could possibly choose.

3. By doing so, he dragged The Antichrist into my business, which I've told him for years not to do.

At this point, I still don't know how well the conversation went. On one hand, I think I made it quite clear that I wasn't happy with how things were handled, and that I want my sister out of my damned business. Yet, on the other hand, I got guilt-tripped with shit like how he'll put it in his will that he doesn't want a funeral, and will have himself cremated and his ashes just dumped into the ocean, if we don't start getting along.

I honestly don't know what he expects out of me. I've tried getting along with that bitch for many years, before it became obvious to me that getting along with her was a no-win scenario. She clearly thinks very little of me, and always has. She hasn't had a conversation where she has been able to speak to me without coming across like she thinks I'm scum for over a decade. Relationships are two-way streets (just ask Illinois Fats), and there is only so much I can do without decided I'm going to be walked all over for my father's sake.

I don't think it's fair for me to do that, especially when you consider the number of scars I already have (physically and emotionally) thanks to my sister.

So, now, the shit had hit the fan. Now what?

I obviously couldn't afford to keep my apartment. And having about three weeks to figure something out didn't help.

After doing some looking around (other apartments, rooms for rent), I finally stumbled upon an idea that would fix two situations with one stone: Moving in with Michael.

At first, he was iffy on the idea. But after doing some thinking, he realized we could make it work.

Fortunately, around this time, Susan had told me that apartment #23 (the one bedroom right above her) would be available at the beginning of March. I did the math, and realized the finances would work.

So, that began a three week journey of planning, cutting through red tape, and arranging a move from San Francisco to Riverside (which was greatly aided by Alane, who was up in his neck of the woods a couple weeks ago and transported the majority of his belongings to here).

Fortunately, other surprises came along that would help matters, among them obtaining a second air conditioner because the former tenant here decided he didn't want his anymore, and just left it for us. Susan also bent over backwards to make sure we got this apartment, and did everything she could to make things work, for which I'll be forever grateful.

We made the move on the 1st, which consisted of several hours of hard work. Dismantling, moving and reassmbling a 350 pound desk is not an easy job. Also, you never realize how much shit you've accumulated until you pack it up and move it.

So, now, Michael has the bedroom, and I have the living room, which I've converted into a second bedroom (not only slightly larger than the bedroom, which is a big help having more furniture, but we also realized we couldn't get some of my things into the bedroom in the first place).

So far, things have gone pretty well. A few minor things that had to be fixed, such as Internet access (I'm still trying to get the hang of this router). I'm having to use the hall closet for my clothing, and eventually plan to take the small room (looks like a closet, but with no rod) and add a rod to it, and use it as my closet. But, considering what a complex move this was, it's gone more smoothly than even I thought it would to date.

I've gotten most of the red tape done. I do need to get down and update everything as far as Section 8, but taking a few days to recover and try to play catch-up would do some wonders.

The two best things to come from this, however, are no longer having to worry about Michael and the crummy situation he was in until now, and no longer having to live underneath loud, obnoxious neighbors. While it's kind of funny living with someone again (it's been 11 years since I've done so), overall I'd have to say I'm quite pleased with the situation.

Onto a few other topics...

Drew Carey, Maker Of Millionaires: On February 22, we got to see Drew do his thing in prime-time for the first time, and he did not disappoint.

A new host, however, was not the only new thing for Price In Primetime, as we've also seen some rule changes, and new ways to win $1,000,000.

The first of which is a $1,000,000 pricing game, where if the contestant plays the game exceptionally well, they can win a $1,000,000 bonus along with their prize. Some of these ideas have been inspired (like a $1,000,000 bonus for getting all five numbers right on the first turn in One Away). Some of these were real head-scratchers, like hitting the $20,000 spot in Plinko three times to earn a gold chip, which could lead to $1,000,000 (sorry, but I'd like to believe the $1,000,000 in a pricing game is obtainable, and Plinko is Mission: Impossible).

The second of which is thanks to the primetime Showcase rules: Get within $1,000 of the actual retail price of your Showcase without going over, and you win both Showcases AND $1,000,000.

Drew, who gave away $1,000,000 in his first episode of Power Of 10, managed to strike twice more already. Adam Rose closed out the first primetime show with a bang, missing his Showcase by $880 to become the biggest winner in CBS history. And, last Friday, Michael Haynes (who also won over $10,000 on Press Your Luck in January of 1984) ended an 0 for 6 show with a bang, missing his Showcase by $489 to become the second biggest winner in CBS history.

Drew has not only managed to give away $1,000,000 three times in a season (something which I don't even believe Regis ever did), but has now given away a million three more times than Howie Mandel has, despite the fact Shark Or No Shark has manufactured gimmicks to try to give away big money (including a $3,000,000 case, and two games where half the cases had $1,000,000 in them).

Just goes to show that for all of Deal's hype, The Price Is ALWAYS Right.

The only regret? That we didn't see these rules back when Bob was still hosting. We had at least one contestant come within $1,000 of their Showcase during Bob's Million Dollar Spectaculars. And while I love Drew, NOBODY could reveal a Showcase's actual retail price like Bob Barker.

I would've paid real money to see how Bob would've revealed to Adam and Michael that they had just become millionaires...

We still have three more of these specials to be aired (one this Friday, and the last two after the NCAA basketball tournament), so there'll be six more chances for fireworks.

The Queen In The Hall: I'll close this post out by congratulating our lovely queen, Madonna, as tonight she will officially be enshrined in the Hall Of Fame, where she belongs.

Of course, some of the naysayers are at it, asking us if any of us pictured her going into the Hall during the Like A Virgin days (no, we didn't, but then, none of us had any idea what the next two decades would bring to one Madonna Louise Ciccone), and questioning why someone who "had nothing to do with rock" should go into the Hall (care to state your case for removing Johnny Cash, Aretha Franklin and Michael Jackson, then?).

Yes, it's a shame that Alice Cooper, Deep Purple, Styx and countless other influential rock acts are still on the outside looking in. But instead of questioning why one of the most influential artists of the last 50 years is going in, why not question why successful (but not extrordinary) acts like The Pretenders are in.

Punishing Madonna for going in while over deserving acts are overlooked would be like me punishing Tony Gwynn because he's in baseball's Hall Of Fame while Brett Butler (whom I do feel is deserving) isn't. She did her part, and earned it. The voters are the ones who fucked up by overlooking legitimate acts while inducting Blondie and The Pretenders (and, again, I love Blondie, but no, they were not worthy).

Also, while on the topic (again), I've felt for years that the Hall should broaden it's horizons some, and focus more on being a music Hall Of Fame than trying to cubbyhole themselves into "rock and roll". Induct Frank Sinatra, and ABBA and all these other hugely successful and influential artists who are being exluded because they don't sound like Zeppelin or Elvis or The Beatles. I mean, you've already inducted R&B/Motown acts. You've inducted a country artist. You've inducted pop artists. Why not?

Anyway, it's a shame I won't really be able to celebrate with My Queen tonight, thanks to VH1. Considering what Madonna did for MTV/VH1 over the years (c'mon, the M in MTV may as well have stood for Madonna for many years), I think it's a disgrace that these induction ceremonies won't be live.

Then again, as I've said more than once, Madonna has become overshadowed in recent years, sadly. Not because of what she does, but because of what she DOESN'T do. She doesn't drive while drunk, get arrested, go into rehab, get hauled off to mental hospitals, doesn't lose custody of her kids, doesn't shave her head, and has committed the crime of not being under the age of 30, like Britney Hilton, or Linsday Simpson, or Miley Montana, or Amy Rehabhouse or the rest of these crops of young, ignorant puppets that the mainstream media has crammed down our throats.

It's one of the reasons I'm not holding my breath, expecting this album to be the biggest thing of her career, regardless of how it sounds, and regardless of rumors about videos where she plays a dominatrix in killer heels (Mmmm... Killer heels). The album could be the greatest thing ever recorded, and unless it comes with a head-shaving, beaver-flashing-in-public, coke-fueled trip to jail/rehab publicity stunt, nobody is going to care. The problem isn't Madonna, it's a media too interested in Pat O'Brienesque scandals (both the ones he reports, and the one he lived himself) to give a shit about the biggest artist of the last 25 years.

And, yes, I do think that is part of the reason there seems to be a ho-hum attitude about tonight's ceremonies (or the out-and-out griping I've seen). However, if Bri... Br... Buuurrrr.... THAT THING from Kentwood was the one being inducted tonight, fucking BNN (All You-Know-Who, All The Time) would carry it live.

Sad.

However, just because the ceremony happens tonight but nobody airs it for twelve days doesn't mean it didn't happen. So, congratulations Queen Madonna! Here's hoping for another amazing 25 years. Sure, you'd be 75, but hey... If Bob Barker can keep on ticking until he's 83, 75 is a drop in the bucket, no?

Just please don't spend the next 25 years (or even 25 minutes) with Justin Timberlake... Please.

Labels: Barker Worship, Hard Candy Never Happened, Madge Worship, Mi Vida Loca, Osama bin Amy, Shoe Worship, Sinead O'Britney, That's What Friends Are For, The Drew Is Right