Man, I have a lot to do today. SO much to do- and all of it is going to cost money. (Stupid 100,000 mile service.) So, in lieu of a beautifully written story, I leave you with this photo I took of my brother and me.

Lesson: I am very short, and Louis is very tall.

Bookmark this!

Years ago, my brother Louis and I, along with our friend Yost, decided to try our hand at making a video using green screen. For those of you who don’t know, green screen (or, sometimes, blue screen) is a film technique used to make impossible situations look real. For example, in ET,  Elliot and that creepy puppet didn’t actually fly through the air on a bicycle. The actor sat on a bike in front of a giant monochromatic screen, and was filmed pretending to ride. Then, that background color was removed, the image of the kid on the bike was placed in front of the night sky and- Voilá!- visual trickery!

To Louie, Yost and me, it seemed simple enough. So, we whipped out a piece of neon green poster board from Sav-On and some of Louie’s old Star Wars toys and went to town.

Unfortunately, none of us really knew any of the technical details, so we wound up with all kinds of shadows, which created unsightly blotches in our foreground image. The project was sadly abandoned.

But, ladies and gentlemen, I have just rediscovered it! It’s incomplete, some of the footage is missing, there is not story, and the images are blotchier than I even remembered! Please enjoy “Yost Wars!” in which our friend Yost takes his car out for a spin and, I guess, finds himself racing a T.I.E. fighter.

Bookmark this!

Today, the only lane available at the pool was in the deep end, right next to a water aerobics class. I think it was Treading Water For The Elderly or something. Aside from their musical choice (smooth jazz “hits” for solo guitar and drum machine) I had no problem with it. In fact, I kind of enjoyed being next to a bunch of chatty, retired women. That is, until the class started to fill up, pushing old ladies up against my lane line. This meant that every time I turned my head underwater, I was greeted by 15 overweight lower bodies. Never in my life have I seen so much jiggling, post-menopausal thighmeat.

The experience made me crave a little bit of youth, something I think we all need a dose of. So I share with you The Lemonade Stand, a video from the Cole Family Archives, circa July 1990 featuring me, my brother Louis, and the lemonade stand that my dad built for us. (I particularly enjoy Louis’ announcement about 30 seconds in.)

Bookmark this!

Dear Louis,

On Monday, Paul and I went to Disneyland, and it got me thinking about the time we went for your birthday in December of, I think, 1997. That would have made you 11, which sounds about right.

Mom and Dad were nice enough to let me bring my friend Lauren (recall her from the Halloween Finger Incident of 1998) in addition to the hordes of 10 and 11 year old boys. They were also nice enough to let Lauren and I go off by ourselves for a few hours. “But be back by eight,” Dad instructed us.

But you know how amusement parks are. It smelled like burgers, popcorn and the promise of something deep-fried, there was a dixieland band playing, and as many as 89 little girls dressed liked cinderella, most of them crying. If it wasn’t utter chaos, it was certainly enough mayhem for us to think Dad had said “eight-thirty,” instead. “‘Kay, great, sure!” Lauren and I said, running off in the direction of Splash Mountain. The plan was to ride Splash Mountain as many times as we could before we had to get back.

I think we must have ridden it 10 times. About the seventh time down the giant hill, I started to think maybe we’d better get back by eight just in case. “I can’t remember what he said, but I’m pretty sure it was eight-thirty, right?” I asked Lauren. “I think so.”

So we rode a few more times. When it was 8:35, we started running over to the meeting point in Fantasyland. By this point, I want you to know, I was already feeling guilty. We were five minutes late and you and your friends would be waiting for us. Five minutes of prime ride time for the birthday boy were being wasted. In fact, I was so intent on getting there in a speedy fashion that, as I navigated through the crowd, my swinging hand hit a little kid in the face (not hard) and I just kept on walkin’. (I’m sure I’ll end up writing him or her a letter later, too.)

But when were about 100 feet from the meeting place, I saw my dad looking for us. He didn’t look happy. He’d said eight. To save face in front of family and friends, I defended myself by repeating, “I swear I thought you said eight-thirty,” which was the truth, but not a very strong argument. I thought the guilt of being five minutes late was bad enough. But knowing I’d made you spend 35 minutes of your birthday waiting for me while dad and mom became increasingly more tense about where their teenage daughter could have disappeared to? That guilt was crushing.

I know it may not seem like the worst thing I could do to you, but for some reason, the thought of you sitting on a rock in front of Sleeping Beauty’s Castle, planning with your friends where you want to go to next, if only your stupid sister would hurry up and get back is just so painfully adorable that it makes me sad. I guess it just means I like you. I’m sorry, Lou.

Bookmark this!

Louis! Remember how hard we used to laugh at this!??!

MELONHEAD!

Bookmark this!

So, I took a couple days off from writing last week to go to my brother’s graduation from USC, and help out with preparations for his party. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to not make a “Plastics” joke at these graduation functions? Anyway, he now has a college degree in Jazz Studies (he’s a drummer, you see). I’ve only now been able to get back to MY life. Good lord these graduates are selfish. “Ooh look at me, I spent four years hitting things with sticks and sleeping until noon. Come sit in the sun for six hours and then throw me a large, catered event with tacos and rented tables.”

Pbbbbbft. That’s what I say to THAT.

Actually, what I say to that is “Hooray!” because it means there will be tacos and rented tables. And a CAKE. Which there was. And it was delicious. Oh, and also I am proud of my little brother. Aww, look at him there, all chock full o’ knowledge:

Life Stage #3: Complete, little brother. Now on to Life Stage #4: Unemployment!

Bookmark this!

Here is a photo of my brother and me: the early years.

I know, right? We’re like so totally buff and tan and awesome. Dig my apple underpants, and Lou’s red swim trunks. Dig my side ponytail and giant scrunchie and Louie’s crumpled yachting hat. And how ’bout the boy’s neck? Where did it go? Did he pump so much iron that his deltoids just grew around it?

Fact: Thanks to pie, this is the only photo in which you can see my ribcage.

Other Fact: I don’t take many topless photos, really, so I guess even if I’d never discovered pie, you still wouldn’t be able to see my ribcage in any other photos.

You’ll be happy to know that Louis’ neck grew back and he will be graduating from USC on Friday. How did we get from this photo to having Bachelor’s degrees?

Bookmark this!

As promised, today I will explain to you what’s happening here:

Technically, they are my brother Louie, and Vikram Devasthali. But on Monday night, they were known as the Volvo Mafia: “Bringing you music with Swedish style efficiently since time immemorial.”

The Volvo Mafia took the stage after Commando Strike Force and did three hip-hop tunes of their own composition, and one killer cover of Sonny Rollins’ Tenor Madness. I’m not posting all four songs, because I don’t want to drive you away. But I would like to show you two of them if that’s alright. It is? Okay, great.

The first is about Mario Kart:

The other is a Louis Cole classic and is entitled I Will Make You Mine (it features a surprise guest performance by Adam Bravo!):

And that concludes my coverage of something that happened like four days ago. Tomorrow: Adventures in mini-blinds!

Bookmark this!

**For some reason, audio uploads are being glitchy…I am working on fixing the problem

Now that the heat has subsided, I am able to share with you some audio and video from the show my brother put on Monday Night at 2nd Street Jazz in Little Tokyo. When he asked me to sing a couple tunes with him for the first set, I was really flattered. Aside from being an excellent drummer, and a musical innovator, Louie is a very talented composer. But if you didn’t know that already, you haven’t been spending nearly enough time reading this blog.

So, Commando Strike Force (the name my brother gave us seconds before he stepped up to the mic) did three tunes, all of which Louie had written. The first was entitled Big Green Suitcase, and featured a smaller ensemble consisting of Adam Bravo on piano, Louis on drums, and Hans Bernhard on bass. But before we did that, we needed to sound check. “Dude. Sing something,” my brother commanded. I gave him one of my signature blank stares. “Just do Mary Had a Little Lamb. Whatever,” he said. You can hear that went by clicking here:

2nd Street Sound Check

Then the rest of Commando Strike Force got involved. It was Richard Sears on piano, Hans Berhard on bass, Louis on drums, Doug Mosher on clarinet, Sam Gendel on bass clarinet, Vikram Devasthali on trombone, Jon Hansen on tuba and Adam Bravo on harp.

Our second tune was Ghost Story, which has some seriously funny, slightly cryptic lyrics:

Ghost Story 4/20/09

The last tune was something that Louie wrote just last week. It’s entitled Swing and, if you are a music dork like I am, you will probably love it. I have a video of it here. Disclaimer: The quality isn’t very good because it was on a tiny handheld camera in the very dim lighting that 2nd Street Jazz is known for. Also, the video is all weird and stretched out. But you can see my brother standing right behind me, smiling, which is the reason I’m posting the visuals here- I love when Louie is happy.

(Please click the “HQ” icon on the bottom of the video there so you can see it in somewhat better quality)

(Also, don’t make fun of me.)

But that was only the first set. Be sure to tune in tomorrow when I will be explaining THIS:

Bookmark this!

Every family has its own holiday traditions. One of ours happens to be getting together to decorate the house and the tree for Christmas. Each of us has a special stocking that we hang from the fire place. My mom needle-pointed mine, and Louie’s. My brother made my dad’s. Here it is:

Aside from the misspelling of our father’s name, Steve, please note the Tie Fighter.

And, in keeping with the Star Wars theme, here is my favorite ornament on the tree:

Well, almost my favorite. Because our tree wouldn’t be complete without …

…The Christmas Ballsack, courtesy of Louis & Dad:

Bookmark this!