Paul Newman has cancer, it’s so incredibly sad.  Watch Cat on a Hot Tin Roof or Cool Hand Luke, they will change your life.

The NY Post published the above photo of the frail Newman.  Wouldn’t anybody look frail next to that guy? They could have easily cropped Captain Tubbo out of the pic.

I’m a city boy, I love the energy, excitement and thrills of living in populous areas filled with interesting characters.  But city life sometimes requires creativity in order to blend functionality and convenience into your existence.

My problem: I run to the gym to amplify the total work out gained, but my gym requires a towel (and doesn’t provide one, WTF?!?).  I need to run with as few items as possible, what am I to do?  Solution: I purchased a very cute and functional towel that serves as a head wrap (very Lawrence of Arabia), AND a towel at the gym.

I wear this urban functional towel to the gym for the first time the other day.  Sweaty from my run, I remove the towel from my head and whipe the perspiration away as I walk into the weight run.

“Where’s your towel,” a rent-a-cop security lady at the gym asks me in a Rosie Perez like, sassy way.  Excited to show her how fantastically functional this towel is, I proceed to explain the many perks of this $40 gem I stumbled upon.

“You and I both know that’s not a towel,” she says, sass in full force, hand on waist, a snap and twist couldn’t be far off.

“Don’t presume to know what I know,” I tell her, getting irritated that Blanca, that’s what I named her in my head, couldn’t understand the greatness of the towel.

Words were exchanged, things got heated, and I demanded to see the manager.  The moments that passed were awkward and frustrating, how could she question me, who was SHE to question ME?

Up the stairs came a man that could have performed as the body double for the big black guy in The Green Mile.  He wore a badge that read “Manager,” and I swear I noticed the lights flicker.  With a deep breath I asked myself, “Is this going to be my hate crime?”

“I don’t have time for this,” I protested, looking up at the urban Jolly Green Giant.  “You have wasted my time, I have meetings, important things.  Goodbye!”

I literally ran home, defeated and ashamed.  And I’m out $40 on a shit towel!

I witnessed something amazing last night, Patti LuPone in Gypsy.  Seriously people, I was blown away by the story, the show, the performances.  Shockingly I had very little understanding of the musical, I had never seen the movie version and only knew a couple of the songs.  Just amazing.

Seeing Patti LuPone live is like witnessing Jesus turn water into wine.  There, I said it!  She has this quality, this average lady quality, that just explodes when she opens her mouth, revealing this powerful piece of machinery called her voice.  That shit is well oiled and should be boxed up and sold for millions.    If she asked me to tattoo her name on my butt, I would.

Color me thrilled! Go see this show if you’re coming to New York City this summer.  The cheap seats are great (it’s at the St. James, so there isn’t really a bad seat in the house).

It’s the weekend!  Are you as excited as I am?  I’ve got a full load on my plate, but I might have room for seconds.

- Friday: I’ll be hitting up an open mic, it’s all about the stage time.  After that I’ll be going to see Family Hour with Auntie Sara at Comix, it’s going to be a blast!

- Saturday: Running, yoga, an open mic, the gym and then I’ll close out the day at the local gay bar watching my friend shake his money maker.  If you’re in the city, come to Pieces.

- Sunday: Running, the gym, going to see Cloverfieldwith my cinema club and baking Snickerdoodles (in my attempt to master the homemade version’s of my favorite cookies). 

I’m already winded. 

Have a beautiful one y’all, find the joy!

I love black people.  I do, I really, really, do.  I love them so much that sometimes I feel perhaps I was born into the wrong race.  No offense to people of Asain, Hispanic, Indian, etc. dissent, but I just don’t feel as strong of an affinity for your race as I do the black race.  You’re fantastic, I love your foods, but nothing could be more fantastic than soul food.  Nothing.

 When I was a kid I would accuse people of being racist, even if I knew different.  My mom wouldn’t let a black friend of mine spend the night, so she was a racist (no matter that my friend was known in the neighborhood for being a klepto).  I’d get a bad grade on a test, “I got the D because Mrs. Stevens hates that I have black friends.” McDonalds would run out of Chicken McNuggets, obviously a conspiracy, they only gave the good stuff to ignorant customer’s with bad fashion sense and no rhythm.  Yes, I was a little Rev. Al Sharpton.

Unfortunately I never seem to measure up when I attend mostly black events.  I’ll go to clubs, outdoor gatherings, church with my black friends, even though I’m not austrisized in these settings, I’m not apart of the fluid movement that transpires.  I’m the white guy who just really loves black people.  I’ll move to the music, eat whatever I’ve got to, discuss the issues of the day in an informed manner, but nothing works, I will always be that guy. 

 Of course I would never try to act like something I’m not, people like that are just mocking the community.  I am white, I accept that, own it; I’m just a guy with a touch of chocolate mixed into the cream. 

 So I’m purposing a new club, Association of White Inhabitants Loving Blacks Young and Old (or AWILBYO - honestly, I created the title of the club so it would have a fun acronym, but unfortunately I’m not creative enough to do this, so suggestions for new names is very much welcomed).  You know you wanna join!  And as a free gift for joining, you will receive a membership to BET’s e-mail alerts. 

I would like to leave you with a quote from Penny Pingleton from the musical Hairspray, I feel she perfectly sums up exactly how I feel, “In my ivory tower, life was just a Hostess snack, but now I’ve tasted chocolate, and I’m never goin’ back!”

I’ve seen Planes, Trains & Automobiles on cable for the past couple of years. It’s always been one of those middle of the day movies you watch while you’re snapping peas with your Mom at the kitchen table (well, I’ve never actually snapped peas with my mom, but you get my point). But I’ve never actually watched the movie.

OMG, what a movie!

Steve Martin is, well, of course he’s perfect. And the late John Candy, probably one of the sweetest and funniest performers ever. This film is such a gem.

The ending caught me off guard. I wasn’t expecting it to be that sweet. I cried, just a little.

I demand that you watch it when it comes on again. You will laugh, cry and probably pee a little.

Send me an email at HAlanScott@gmail.com

I’m a happy guy. Sometimes I can be mellow, often boring, but I’m pretty much happy through out it all. So why is it that I find myself surrounded by Debbie Downers?

Everyone I’ve come in contact with lately (excluding Lori) has been angry, upset or sad. WTF people?!? “It’s the most wonderful time of the year,” so said some dead old white guy. Hell, he’s dead and happy, why can’t that joy spread to others?

I think it’s because most people don’t have enough fiber in their diet, especially during the holidays. Everyone’s just walking around hoping for a good poop. They eat a sugar cookie, maybe some peppermint bark, a little turkey here and there, but what about a good apple? No, apple pie doesn’t count (or does it?).

So to all the negative nellies out there, shut up and eat a prune!

FYI, Marry Poppins is on, it’s Friday, and I’m totally willing to cancel plans just to watch it. When did I become this gay? Dick Van Dyke is dreamy!

Send me an email at HAlanScott@gmail.com

I’m on my holiday vacation. Because of the company I work for, I get from the middle of November until the beginning of the new year off. Jealous?

I will not complain, that would be selfish. I am at a bit of a loss though. It’s Monday, start of the week, yet for me it feels like a very lonely Sunday. I don’t know what to do with myself. I want to send e-mails but have nobody to send them to (I need more friends). Oprah is already annoying me. I’m living meal to meal, planning dinner while I eat lunch. Is this how newly retired people feel?

I feel adventures are in order. Tonight I will be hitting up the famous Grauman’s Chinese Theater (the one with all the footprints out front) to see The Wizard of Oz. Should I dress up? It would be so old Hollywood of me.

Please, give me tips. I need creative advice on what to do. What do you do with your time off? Before you answer that, remember, The Scott Blog is a family blog, so be clean!

Send me an email at TheScottBlog@gmail.com

Oh milestones, I’ve got my share! I don’t set out to remember these dates, or at least I don’t think I do, but for some reason they become implanted in my brain. I recognize them as the anniversary approaches year after year, sometimes celebrate them. Some are obvious, others are silly. But it’s vital for me to recognize their importance, for these milestones mark a significant moment in my life when a great change or event occurred that alerted the rest of my life.

- July 10, 1982: I was born. This one is sort of obvious, but how could it not be included in a list of important milestones?

- June 7, 1993: Moved in with my mother after years of living with my father. All of my belongings (which wasn’t much, I was 11) were piled up in the back of my step-father’s truck. I sat in the bed of the truck with my stuff and just stared out the window on my way to my new life.

- July 3, 1997: Lost my virginity while watching Mel Brooks’ Dracula Dead and Loving It. Oddly enough, a Dennis Rodman doll was also involved (I’ll explain this in a future blog).

- November 17, 2004: Moved to New York City. I road the Chinatown bus in from Philadelphia. Landing in Chinatown, I grabbed my bags and headed for the subway. I took the Q train to my new home (I didn’t know it would be my home, I was only coming to visit). The Q train goes over the Manhattan bridge, offering a fantastic view of lower Manhattan. I stood there amazed. “Am I really here?”

June 29, 2006: I quit smoking. Thank God!

November 7, 2007: Tonight I will do my first ever main stage stand-up performance. Saying I’m nervous is an understatement. I’m uber-excited, which only fuels the nerves more. I’m certain tonight will go down as yet another milestone to add to the mix. Why do I think that? Because I want this, I really want this.

If you’re in the Los Angeles area you better come! It’s at the Hollywood Improv at 8162 Melrose Avenue at 8pm. Come, come, come!

Wish me luck (gulp).

Send me an email at TheScottBlog@gmail.com

Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful for all the many wonderful things in your life. There are always things to be thankful for: your family, friends, possibly your fantastic job, maybe a new skill you picked up. Whatever it is it’s almost always something that defines who you are in some way. Every Thanksgiving I give thanks for all the typical things, but as I got older I recognized one thing in my life that was missing out on the love: the cinema!

The first Thanksgiving after I moved in with my mother (I was 11), I spent with my father in his crappy apartment in the ghetto of St. Louis. The turkey was dry, the stuffing looked a little too much like hash for comfort and the pumpkin pie had a chalky taste to it. Of course I ate every bite, had seconds, and acted like it was the best meal ever.

“You’ve gained weight since you’ve moved in with your mother,” my dad told me in his matter-of-fact way after I helped myself to a second piece of pie. I wanted to tell him the truth about the meal, payback for his insult, but the shame of food was just too strong.

Late that night I couldn’t sleep. The embarrassment of being a fatty, and being called on it, was too strong to bear. To ease the pain I put in a movie, Splash. That finished, still wasn’t sleepy, so I popped in The Adventures of Huck Finn. The sun started to come out when I put on Punchline. For the rest of the weekend I watched one movie after another. In between a couple films I would take quick naps. A League of Their Own, The Firm, sleep, Field of Dreams, poop, Annie, Heaven Can Wait, sleep, Rent-a-Cop, Days of Thunder (I had a thing for Tom Cruise), Big.

It was during that weekend when I discovered the power of movies. They took me away from the pain. If I got lonely, sad, embarrassed, even bored, all I needed to do was watch a movie and everything would be alright. At least for two hours. Half the time it didn’t matter what film it was, I could lose myself in it.

To this day I still see at least one movie in the theaters a week. Of course I also watch them at home. Now they’ve become something else altogether, no longer are they used as a mechanism to ignore grief, but more like I’m catching up with an old friend.

Below is a list of movies that I watch on a regular basis for all sorts of reasons. If you haven’t seen them, I highly recommend you check them out. What are some of your favorites?

~ Terms of Endearment: I watch this movie almost monthly. It’s difficult for me to explain why this film is so special to me, it moves me like no other film ever has.

~ Citizen Kane: Every time I watch this movie I’m amazed. I still cannot believe it was made in 1941. It seems so modern.

~ The Bicycle Thief: I get emotional just describing the plot of this film. A down on his luck father finally gets a job on war-torn Rome, but it requires a bike (and his was stolen). He takes his son on a walk around Rome trying to find a bike. Simple plot, beautifully shot and an ending you will never, EVER, forget.

~ The Purple Rose of Cairo: A hidden Woody Allen gem. A woman escapes her horrible life by going to the movies (sound familiar?). But then the film comes to life!

~ It’s a Wonderful Life: The scene where young George Bailey gets slapped by the drunk pharmacist for keeping him from possibly poisoning a prescription, and then the drunk pharmacist realizes what he was about to do- and what he did to Geroge, is possibly one of the single most saddest scenes I have ever seen. Beautiful!

~ Nights of Cabiria: A prostitute decides to change her ways and get her life on track. An Italian classic!

~ Billy Elliott: Poor boy + hidden talent as a dancer + hope = great film!

~ Torch Song Trilogy: I want this life (minus the career as a drag queen and the tragedy of losing a love).

~ All About My Mother: Really any film by Pedro Almodovar can take me out of a funk, but this one in particular.

***CLICK ON MOVIE TITLES TO FIND OUT MORE ABOUT THOSE FILMS***

Send me an email at TheScottBlog@gmail.com