Full Body Scan

My expectations were low to begin with. I wasn't expecting fireworks or applause, but some sort of fanfare would have been nice. The full body scans have been a hot topic of late so I suffered a bit of a let down on my flight from Philadelphia to Orlando. No "Mr. Thomas! I see someone is still in beach bikini shape." High fives? Nope. Not even an intrigued eyebrow raise.

Maybe I should've been asked to be patted down? I didn't do 36 sit-ups in the handicap stall to have my abs go unnoticed by TSA. I mean it was either the washboard stomach or offering them two tickets to the gun show. Which they would happily trade me for two tickets to the jail show.

Full Body Scan, check.

Go to Court

As mentioned in a previous posting of mine, my place of employment had a little run in with some good for nothing, sticky handed bandits! There I said it. They had stolen some products from the arena and seemingly gotten away with it. Well they ended up catching the two dummys and being able to correctly identify one of the perps, the Philadelphia Police Dept. felt that I would be a tremendous asset in the court room. After receiving a subpoena a few weeks back, the day came where I was to arrive at Municipal Court on 13th and Filbert, September 16th 2010.

Arriving at 8:30 AM, I was informed that I would probably be waiting for the majority of the day so I should come prepared. I brought Steve Martin's biography, a newspaper, and my iPod. I didn't use any of it because they ushered all of us in right away. There we all waited for about a half hour. Not sure what for, but I think it was to be polite and wait for every odd creature in Philadelphia to come into courtroom 1002.

When I sat down there were pretty normal looking people already there. A quiet librarian looking women, about 40 years old doing a sudoku puzzle. An old, black lady who repeatedly asked her neighbor what time it was. A guy with one arm. A gingered tough guy cop with his shirt tucked into his jeans. A Muslim woman. A Jewish man. A Mexican. A really fat guy. A trannie with hairier legs than me...and me. Marky Mark and the Funny Bunch were all here to determine how long this monster should be locked up for stealing soda from us.

But that's a story for another day because they dismissed us for some reason and said that we would be receiving another subpoena in a few weeks. I look forward to the reunion and hopefully doing more than just sitting in a courtroom with a racially, ethnically, sexually, and religiously diverse group. And a Mexican.

Go to court...check.

Mann Music Center

I consider myself to be a pretty well traveled Philadelphia concert goer. I've been to scores of live music events over my little lifetime so it was exciting to finally visit one that I'd never been to. The Mann Music Center is in West Philly, near the Zoo, and usually boasts some more classical, less popular artists during the season. Not entirely sure if that's accurate but that's what I thought and I only really noticed the likes of Arcade Fire and MGMT gracing the stage this past summer.

I saw the latter a few weekends ago with Steph and her roommate and boyfriend. I was sick and wasn't really in a concert-going mood but threw back a few beers and started to feel alright. The closest relative to the Mann would have to be the Susquehanna Bank Center in Camden. Trade the paved parking lot for the grassy fields at the Mann and they're pretty similar. Expensive beers, expensive seating, and lawn seats for the degenerates.

We had seats about 1/3 of the way up and off to the left side of the stage. The sound was good and there weren't too many drunk idiots around to interfere with my listening pleasure. Luckily it wasn't a hot night or it may have been a little more uncomfortable. Unlike the SBC, the Mann is open on the sides of the seated area, giving it a nice outdoorsy feel.

As for the show itself, it was alright. Obviously Congratulations isn't the pop-radio album that Oracular Spectacular was, so the majority of the concert wasn't suitable for drunken sing-a-longs. However they did a nice job of mixing the old with the new and the slow with the up-tempo tracks. The venue itself I wouldn't have chosen for these guys, a smaller one would've been more suitable, but when you had the success that they did with "Kids" and "Electric Feel" you're going to need a bigger venue.

Fun night overall, would recommend the Mann for future concerts (I heard Arcade Fire was amazing there), would not recommend being sick and going though.

Mann Music Center, check.

Miwa Matreyek

It takes a lot to hold my attention. This day and age, if you're not on your iPhone browsing the internet, while your mp3 player soundtracks your walk to work, and doing a crossword puzzle than you are just being a lazy. Everyone seems to have self inflicted ADD and I am no different. Which is why I was caught off guard by Miwa Matreyek's exhibit at Space 1026 in Chinatown Sunday evening. It completely hypnotized me.

Don't think for a second I was without my distractions either. Between the weighty smell of BO, female armpit hair, and the surrounding exhibits there was plenty to distract me. Miwa, who hails from Los Angeles, California, and her animated first person interactive sideshow have been touring the country for a while now. Miwa animates all of her pieces and composes the music as well. And if that's not enough, she hogs the spotlight, snagging the lead role in every work so far.

But there really aren't enough words to do her justice so watch this and check her out next time she's in town.



Miwa Matreyek, check.

Play Lotto

Consider this my resignation from Thomas Try Outs. Come tomorrow night when they read 26, 35, 48, 51, 57 for the Powerball drawing I will no longer have the time to tell you poor people what an interesting, socialite like myself will be doing anymore. Of course I will still be trying new things, but they will be in foreign lands, exploring in expensive vehicles, while laughing the haughtiest of laughs.

I never played the lottery before because I'm not an idiot who likes to throw away money unless it's on beer and food. Nor did I ever like dreaming about what I would do if I ever hit the jackpot. It always ends in the realization that you will in fact never win and when you rejoin reality, are still drunk at 3 in the afternoon, hungover at McDonald's.

Needless to say it would be nice to get a large sum of money for doing absolutely nothing...kinda like stupid poor people and spoiled rich people.

Play Lotto, check.

Super Mario Bros. 3

What else would a hungover 25 year old do on a sunny Saturday afternoon? Metroid and Zelda are too difficult. I wanted instant gratification. I never had NES as a child but picked one up before I went to college and Super Mario Bros. 3 was always a nice release for me. Like meditation I could leave my body and look down at myself, sliding through koopas and mushrooms like a man possessed.

But I never went all the way. Either I lost interest or most likely...all my lives. The last world is scary enough to turn away even the fiercest gamer, let alone the final resting place of Bowser. But enough suspense, you're here for the level by level recap.

I'm going to catch a lot of flak for this but I did use the whistles. If you don't know bout dat whistle then stop reading and check yourself. Anyhow it was necessary as I had work later that night and honestly if you can beat the 8th World the others are a breeze. So I picked up both whistles and worked my way through the 3rd World, racking up as much goodies and lives as I could.

Wow this is even boring me.

So yeah I beat the game and that's pretty much it. You probably beat it when you were 10 and I'm a loser for even writing about this.

Super Mario Bros. 3 (loser self-realization), check.

Nudist

I am naked outside on my third floor roof deck at 4:15 PM. Sunning all 6 feet, 165 lbs of Adam Thomas. Surprisingly I thought this would be more nerve racking but turns out most of my neighbors have their blinds closed and there aren't too many wandering eyes. Except for the squirrels on the roof next door, who seem to be ogling me up like Mr. Peanut. Still it's liberating. This is living without boundaries. This is freedom. Cue "God Bless America."

This tryout is actually a double feature. Like the drive-in movies of old, I'm giving you two for the price of none (like you snuck in through your buddies trunk). Obviously being nakey in public is the feature presentation but this is also the first Thomas Tryout Request. This was an idea I played around with a while ago for about 30 seconds, abruptly ending when "make out with a dude" was the first thing my friends could think of. So props to Steph for the idea.

But back to my soon to be rosy cheeks. Aside from the squirrels creeping about I'm pretty calm. After the initial rush and extremely uncomfortable act of climbing out of my tiny kitchen window in the buff, this is very relaxing. Now I know what it must have felt like to walk on the moon. Guaranteed Neil Armstrong pooped his G-Suit when he drew the short straw for that one. But once he was out there, just man and Moon, I bet he was all sorts of jacked up and waving that American Flag all over the place.

Now that I'm out here I wonder if this is illegal. I think this is technically my property, or at least my landlords (who is gone for the weekend). If I end up getting arrested this will turn into the Lollapalooza of Tryouts and I'll definitely be charging you guys. If not just for bail money.

Nudist, check.