The Build-a-Baldwin Workshop

Who amongst us hasn’t watched a TV show or movie then thought halfway through that the picture would be much better if it had a Baldwin in it? The more you watched the show and looked at the underlying themes and overall mood of the production, you find yourself unable to think of the proper Baldwin for the role.

Lucky for you, I am here today to provide you with the fundamental steps you must follow to create your own power character. A real tour-de-force in Hollywood. The type of actor that gets cast more for his name than any other reason. Today, we are going to add to the already impressive stable of Baldwins one can find out in LA.

Using the tools at our disposable, we are going to create a brand new Baldwin.

Since we lack the necessary God-like powers to create a person using only the dust of the Earth and because genetic engineering has not evolved to the point of it being a viable technology for from-scratch thespian creation, we are grateful to have a series of Baldwin templates already at our disposal. These templates will provide us with a solid base for which we can build upon.

1. Alec Baldwin

He is the funny one as well as the famous one. Really, he’s the Baldwin that all other Baldwins strive for. Mr. Schweaty Balls himself really knows how to deliver a solid pun with the proper pitch and timing. I go through life feeling more secure in humanity knowing that somewhere out there, Alec Baldwin is acting.

2. Stephen Baldwin

While Alec may be the bee’s knees for some, others may find him a bit too high falutent. For those folks, you may want to consider Stephen Baldwin. Stephen is the goofy dope of the Baldwins. Many folks consider Stephen to be second in command of the family. When you need a famous last name for your picture, you give Stephen a call and hope for strong DVD sales. Be leery about choosing this template though as sometimes he comes packaged with Pauly Shore. The packaged deal could end up diluting your Baldwin experience.

3. Daniel Baldwin

Another template to consider is the infamous Daniel Baldwin, the drug addict renegade and memorable star of The Beach Party at the Threshold of Hell. He’s the butter pecan ice cream of the Baldwin stable of actors. While we accept the fact that he exists, when given the choice, we would much rather prefer a different flavor.

4. Joseph Baldwin

If you don’t want to settle for a Baldwin brother, then you may want to try Joseph Baldwin. He’s a cousin to the Big Four. The most notable thing about Joseph is that he was born with a very fortunate last name. I would be willing to bet that he also makes a mean pasta fagioli, or at least I hope. Otherwise, not too much is happening here.

5. William Baldwin

Then we have William Baldwin – brother to Alec, Stephen, and Daniel. William plays the very important role of being the extra. Without being demeaning, he’s the sidekick Baldwin. You may be watching a show, then all of a sudden it’s like, “That’s a Baldwin!” or “Hey, that must be Joseph’s cousin!” William is the Baldwin that is most easily mistaken for other Baldwins.

6. Adam Baldwin

Finally, there is Adam Baldwin. He’s the tough guy outsider who grew up on the mean streets, the man who follows his own rules. He’s also the Baldwin that actually has no relation to any of the five Baldwins mentioned above. This, however, just furthers his tough guy image. Even if he is just a Baldwin in name only, he’s still a Baldwin to me.

After closely evaluating our Baldwin templates, I’m leaning towards William Baldwin as the basis for our new Baldwin. He’s not a show-stopper by any means. But I feel like he has certain qualities that will make our freshly created Baldwin a top-notch creation.

The thing you need to keep in mind is that a Baldwin is good in a small time role for a big time picture. To take it further, I think a Baldwin should focus more on television. Twenty minutes of screen time is more than enough for a Baldwin. The simple fact is that you put “Baldwin” in the credits, you will have a ratings bonanza on your hands. Be sure not to get too “Baldwiny” though or else you may have another Bio-Dome on your hands. Knowing this, a Baldwin based on William would be most likely to not only accept this type of role, but also succeed in it.

Going forward, I picture our new Baldwin possibly playing a secondary character in a movie. More likely though, he will be one of the leading roles in a new television series. Maybe even a guest star appearance in an established franchise; that’s something else worth considering.

With a goal in mind, we must give our new Baldwin a name.

After thinking about it some, I have decided to name my Baldwin…Marty. The name itself falls within the character number limit of Baldwin names (as a rule of thumb, always name your Baldwin using 4 to 8 characters). It’s also completely different than the other Baldwin names out there so we will be adding something new here too.

Now that we have a name and a role, we must give Marty Baldwin a gimmick. You don’t want to overlap what’s already there in the Baldwin universe. For example, you can’t have two funny Baldwins or else you create a Baldwin dichotomy that the public won’t be able to properly process.

After looking at what’s already out there, I found a big hole that I think Marty can fill nicely – the sweet and sensitive type. He’s the quiet man that shies away from the media. Paparazzi will follow Marty Baldwin around and he will lower his head and turn his eyes away, embarrassed by all the attention. However, as the cameras are flashing as he walks down the Strip, a small grin appears on Marty’s face, the type of grin that is just large enough to notice and melt away the teeny-boppers’ hearts that will surely become infatuated with the new Baldwin about to hit the market.

For his look, Marty prefers short, cropped, black hair; it’s a safe Baldwin look. While he’s capable of growing a distinguished beard, he only does so when the role he’s portraying calls for it. Otherwise, it’s a clean-shaven look for Mr. Baldwin! As for his wardrobe, a simple pair of jeans and a t-shirt will suffice. No Baldwin to date has had a distinctive style and Marty Baldwin will not be the first (perhaps that’s an opening you can fill with your own Baldwin???)

Last but not least, we must complete our Baldwin Personal Profile. The numbers that you enter here will dictate the type of person that your Baldwin will become. You have 100 B-Points to use. Check below to see Marty Baldwin’s personal profile:

DRAMATIC ACTING – 15; I don’t see this early in Marty’s career, but if he falls off the map, I’d like to think a nice dramatic role would start his career revival.

COMEDIC TIMING – 30; I definitely see Marty being more of the comedic type. I can just see Kate Hudson and Matthew McConaughney starring in another great romantic-comedy with Marty Baldwin playing the part of Matthew’s quirky best friend.

DECISION MAKING – 20; I want Marty Baldwin to make the best career choices possible. But like all Baldwins, he occasionally will make a dud.

POLITICAL ASPIRATIONS – 5; I prefer my Baldwin to play it safe and not turn anyone off. So less talking and more acting for Marty Baldwin.

CRITICAL ACCLAIM – 12; I see Marty Baldwin becoming more of an award show presenter than an actual honoree.

MUSICAL ABILITY – 1; Marty’s a kick ass whistler, but not much else in this department.

FOOD ALLERGIES – 8; I’m thinking peanut allergy.

DIRECTING DESIRES – 9; All actors have this secret desire to do a little directing and Marty Baldwin is no different.

With Marty Baldwin now created, he is ready to take on the world with all the bravado and gusto that being a Baldwin requires. You, too, will find that once you create a Baldwin, he is no longer under your control. You may be overwhelmed at first and feel compelled to find the best agent possible and hook up your Baldwin with the top production comany. When he gets his first gig, you will want to show up on set to meet the director and make sure your Baldwin is treated properly. The reality is, all you would be doing is smothering your Baldwin; don’t smother your Baldwin.

Based on the template chosen and the shtick selected, you can only hope that the new Baldwin makes the right career choices. Ideally, he manages to go through life and avoid the reality TV trap. I hope the same for my own Baldwin. If Marty Baldwin ends up on VH1, he will not only be embarrassing himself, but also the other Baldwins out there.

A Lively Weekend

I have no problem going to the top of the highest building or riding the tallest roller coaster. As long as they are in an enclosed case, I’m okay with snakes. Let one loose and I may freak out a little.

I’m not afraid of open spaces or of closed spaces. I’m not a hydrophobe or an airophobe or even a dirtophobe.

The greatest fear in my life is that one day, when I pass away, two strangers will come along and Weekend at Bernie me.

In my dream – or nightmare, if you will – I can never identify the people who play the parts once graced by the sublime Andrew McCarthy or the long-forgotten Jonathan Silverman. They are two faceless strangers that walk into my place where I am plopped on the coach. The only known thing about the situation is that I am playing the role once adored by Terry Kiser on the silver screen; a dead man wearing sunglasses, living (?????) by the beach. My greatest fear is ripe for comedy and classical slapstick.

Once they discover I’m dead and not napping, McCarthy and Silverman fear they might be accused of murder. So McCarthy and Silverman tie their legs to my legs and place their arms around my back as we walk up and down the beach, getting ourselves into various beach capers. People smile and wave. McCarthy takes my arm and wave back, flapping my arm around from side to side. People on the beach notice my limp wave and merely think that I’m a little down on life at the moment, but still very much alive.

Things start off innocent enough. Lounging by the pool or lying on the beach, always a half-filled glass of lemonade nearby to further the illusion that I am still alive. Everyday I’m wearing the same white pants and blue button-down shirt; others on the beach just assume I’m going with what works so why change it? Even though it is my greatest fear and my worst nightmare, I still look rather hunky in blue.

Soon, McCarthy and Silverman get bored with my deadness and send out invitations for the hottest party on the beach, a party that I will never be able to enjoy in my present condition. As the young hotties arrive, McCarthy and Silverman, with my ankles tied to theirs to simulate movement, walk around and awkwardly wave to all those in sight (for some reason, I always seem to be waving at people). But as the party moves on, I get dumped on the coach. People walk by and wave (people always seem to be waving at me too. It’s a vicious cycle, it seems. I guess that’s what makes it my greatest fear). Despite my lifelessness, people still look at me and say, “Hey!”

I say nothing.

Two scantily clad women in bikinis sit on the coach, one on each side. As my head tilts slightly to the side, one remarks how lifeless I look and how I remind them of that one guy from that one movie. Is it the aviator glasses? The manly mustache? I can’t say for certain what gives it away. The women, however, will never realize just how accurate they are in their comparison. It’s just another case of vintage bimbo-ism for which there is no cure.

As word of the party gets out, mullet-sporting mob members arrive, armed with syringes, thinking that I have the money when in reality, I am merely a plot device. McCarthy and Silverman are unaware of the mob men’s intentions; they sense things could get ugly. They pick me up by the arm pits, wave goodbye to the bimbos, and we soon escape to my laboratory.

In my greatest fear, I own a laboratory.

With no regards to my reputation, McCarthy and Silverman begin work on a cure for small pox, even though one already exists (I think). They grab my arms and mix various chemicals in beakers. Take some of the red goo, pour in some green liquid. Mix vigorously and see what happens. To view the results, McCarthy and Silverman lower my head towards the microscope and they’ll laugh and laugh and laugh. Being away from the mullet-sporting mob men is of great relief to them.

As my research on small pox progresses, the two start to publicize my results. They’ll even issue press releases about my breakthrough in my small pox vaccine. I will be humiliated. People will view me not as the man curing an already cured disease, but rather, as the man who issued a press release that the AP ignored.

Because of McCarthy and Silverman’s stupidity, the Mullet Mob finds out where I am hiding and they come after me. Naturally, I have very little to fear. McCarthy and Silverman, on the other hand, evidentially have a reason to live – mainly due to their ability to live. This contrasts nicely with my inability to live since I’ve been Weekend at Bernie-ed.

It gets complicated, but stay with me…

We soon escape to a yacht floating just off the beach. Due to a clerical error by the yacht captain – played by Gilfrod Godfry in an unforgettable cameo – I am entered in a shuffle board tournament with the middle-aged, single beauty, Holly. Unaware of my condition, Holly stands behind me, sensually grabs my arms and pushes the shuffleboard thingy towards the end of the shuffleboard court as we try to score a goal and put some points on the shuffleboard.

As we get to know each other, Holly falls in love with my great listening ability. Because of my quiet sensitivity, we soon are lying on the beach below the full moon. Waves are crashing on the beach, wetting the sand and exposing the clams.

Before it gets too kinky, McCarthy and Silverman reappear and interrupt our night swimming. They pick me up, make the idle excuse that I passed out drunk, and leave Holly alone on the beach, waving goodbye. My greatest fear only gets worse as I am pried apart from my shuffleboard seductress, unable to wave back. My only hope is that some day the love of my life gets Weekend at Bernie-ed “too.”

Life Lesson #135: Just Back Off

I have been told that there are some people you just can’t put a saddle on. You can try and throw a saddle on them, but they just run away.

For some, you really can’t blame them for running. What if a fat guy threw the saddle and was looking for a free ride? Nothing against fat dudes, but I just don’t think it’s a good idea to have that much weight pressing down on your back. The local chiropractic association clearly frowns upon such behavior.

For those people that can be saddled, stand next to the individual, grab the saddle with both hands, twist your body slightly, and then twist back while tossing the saddle onto the upper back of the saddle-accepting person, or SAP. The saddle should slide slightly down the SAP’s torso before coming to a complete spot, at which time you can get on the saddle if you so choose.

If there is no SAP nearby, you are to be advised to chuck one of those saddles onto a mule. I have yet to meet a mule you couldn’t throw a saddle over. On a related note, I have also yet to actually meet a mule and so I’m not entirely sure what one looks like. While thinking that I’m in the process of throwing a saddle on a mule, I may actually end up saddling a hippopotamus, an animal that is not too fond of being saddled.

A mule, on the other hand, is accustomed to having saddles thrown on its back. It’s the good thing about mules – their easy saddle-ability. Although, they smell. So it’s best to buy an odor-free saddle to throw onto your newly acquired mule. Alas, poor mule. But luckily, you are getting something to throw a saddle on.

Unlike a mule and some people, fishes do not lend themselves to being saddled. If you catch a forty-pounder and that fish swallows the hook, all you have is one wounded and very distraught fish – not the kind of conditions one looks for in a saddle target. Combine that with the fish-out-of-water syndrome and there is nothing about this that screams ideal saddle throwing conditions.

Since we are being honest here, let me just say that I have never come across any situation, involving any animal – fish or otherwise – that screams “Ideal saddle throwing conditions. Hey everyone! We have ideal saddle throwing conditions over here!”

Knowing that really makes this whole argument a moot point.

Deja Vu Strikes Again

For lunch, I decided to order a sandwich from a local deli. A woman answered the phone on the other end and promptly informed me that they had run out of white bread. Which was unfortunate due to the integral role that two slices of bread play in making a respectable sandwich.

It was noon. Lunch time. And they were out of white bread.

I wanted to order the pastrami, but I was afraid as to where they were going to put it. Clearly it wasn’t going between two slices of white bread.

This was as ridiculous as pulling up to a Dairy Queen drivethru when the vanilla ice cream machine isn’t working and being forced to order an ice cream cake, only easy on the ice cream.

I Scream, You Scream…

With summer coming to a close, so too does the number of days left to enjoy an ice cream cone. You can certainly order ice cream in the winter, but nothing beats a large cone on a hot summer night. As your tongue races around the cone, trying to prevent every drip from falling past the cone, you try to savor the frozen treat before the temperature takes control.

Feeling in the mood, my brother and I stopped at a Dairy Queen on the way home from an amusement park, where much amusement was had!!! While waiting in the drive through, we could hear what the car in front of us was ordering. We could also hear what the Voice crackling out of the speaker box was saying as well. From our car, it almost sounded as if they were out of vanilla ice.

But this was a Dairy Queen.

(It was a Dairy Queen, right?)

(Yes, I just checked. It was a Diary Queen and still is a Diary Queen for that matter.)

The minivan pulled up to the front window and it was finally our turn to order. A couple of blizzards, a couple of sundaes. I was thinking about a milkshake, maybe even a cone. I wasn’t sure; I was still deciding.

The Voice came on and asked for our order.

“Two small Oreo blizzards,” my brother said.

“I’m sorry, is it okay if we made that with chocolate instead. Our vanilla ice cream isn’t working,” the Voice said, as if the vanilla ice cream machine woke up this morning and decided to call in sick. Diary Queen shouldn’t be allowed to have an inoperable vanilla ice cream machine. It’s like pulling up to a gas station and seeing plastic bags covering all the pumps. It’s a gas station. There should be plenty of gas. If there’s no gas at the gas station, then there’s very little reason to even have a gas station. I could certainly pull into the pharmacy across the street, but I doubt that would solve my fuel deficiency problem.

After coming to grips with the lack of vanilla ice cream, we started again from the top.

“We’ll have two small Oreo blizzards,” there was a dramatic pause. “And could we get those with chocolate ice cream instead?” There was just the slightest hint of sarcasm that wisped right over the Voice’s head.

This was absurd. It’s Diary Queen and they have no vanilla ice cream. Sundaes, slushies, and blizzards all rely on vanilla ice cream for their existence. Sitting in their freezer must have been boxes of hollow Dilly Bars, with just the chocolate shell and no ice cream.

With no vanilla ice cream, I had very few choices. So I went with the next best thing. “I’ll have a small twist cone.”

“Uhhh….” There was definite confusion in the Voice’s voice. “Our vanilla machine isn’t working today.”

“That’s why I got the twist instead.”

At that moment, the Voice’s head exploded.

I could have set off a riot if I tried to order a vanilla milkshake.

No vanilla, no twists. There wasn’t much left to put on a cone at Diary Queen. Now, they still had the chocolate machine working. But I felt like having a Blizzard (I was definitely going the cookie dough route that night). And Blizzards were born with vanilla ice cream in mind.

I was a little hesitant about having a chocolate ice cream Blizzard so I looked for alternatives. A hamburger probably wouldn’t fit on a cake cone. I guess I could have gotten a waffle cone, but I just wasn’t feeling it that night.

A hot dog would have definitely fit in the cone, but there would have been this uneasiness around me as I sat there, licking a frankfurter out of a cone.

That would be awkward.

I had no idea what to order. It was like going to the local Domino’s Pizza when the pizza making machine isn’t working and being forced to order the