Let's have another go, shall we?

Blogging can make you so crazy. You want to make sure you do certain things like clockwork, and then you get overwhelmed.

Like learning ventriloquism.

I've been writing Budding Ventriloquist now for over 8 months, and have I made any great strides? Can a guy who is the only ventrilo-journalist* to cover the Winter Olympics possibly practice slurring over the B sound?

Can a man who peeks around corners looking for the Slovenian secret police (those rascals know how to keep a low profile) because he challenged Slovenian Olympians to excel with a bet that he lost, and now owes a country a ventriloquism show... I have to stop. (Look back to Quagmire, Smagmire if this doesn't ring a bell)

My blood pressure is up just thinking about it. Can a spirit that's on a Budding Ventriloquist Mystic Adventure (TM) actually learn to talk without lips?

Don't say it. I know.

Yes, I need to now re-re-re-re-re-re-commit. Three of the "re"s are for months I didn't already re-commit(when I was busy with Olympic stuff, remember?) .

Are we up-to-date? Must I grovel more?

Don't answer that.

***

After careful analysis of thousands and thousands of pieces of "intel," careful vigilance, and a supremely coordinated international effort to confirm every possible suggestion of malfeasance, we are lowering the Slovenian Relations Monitor Status to Yellow. And just like if Homeland Security was running it, please remember that the lowering of the status to yellow still requires you to spy on:

• Your neighbors, 
• Your co-workers, and
• Your relatives.

You no longer need to spy on your neighbor's or co-worker's relatives, unless there's nobody looking.

No, this is not some sneaky ploy to draw the Slovenian Secret Police out in the open; those rascally rascals who have been evading my most cautious awareness, and quick glances, and "quick, down the alley" meneuvers on the way home. That would be a bit more cunning than a man who can't really do ventriloquism (yet) could concieve. 

You must believe that.

***

* Ventrilo-journalism is what this blog is. That makes me sort the Hunter S. Thompson of the ventriloquist world. You see that, don't you? No one else is, right?

I like it. I'm on the jagged new edge of gonzo ventriloquism.

I'll take a beef, tomato, and sardine sandwich on wry

Hola España!

Just because the Olympics are over, that doesn't mean that a visit from a new country doesn't deserve a hearty Hola!

But, instead of checking out their athletic prowess (and potentially generating a whole new Slovenian Quagmire - you remember that fiasco?), I hoped to highlight some fascinating aspect of the country's entertainment scene.

Now, that works for Spain big time.  This country has the wackiest festival (of Fiesta) scene on earth.  and it only starts with the insanity of the San Fermin festival in Pamplona. Thousands of daredevils (how politically correct!) from all over the world run with the bulls through the cobbled streets of the old town.

(Attention, Mr. Mayor of Hudson, WI:
Our sleepy little burg needs this event!
I bet you think I'm kidding, but it's no bull!)

But why stop there?  Whenever I'm bored with my working-stiff American lifestyle, my mind doesn't go to Carolina, it to the the Tomatina in the village of Buñol. It’s the world’s biggest tomato fight involving tens of thousands of people being pelted with thousands of tomatoes.

(Attention, Mr. Mayor of Hudson, WI:
Our sleepy little burg needs this event!
I'll head up a committee, you call the garden club.)

And for those of you who are church goers, why miss the "Burial of the Sardine” fiesta held in Madrid and elsewhere every Ash Wednesday. Revelers in fancy dress costumes attending the funeral of a sardine!

(Attention, Mr. Mayor of Hudson, WI:
Our sleepy little burg needs this event!
When's the next council meeting?
Or did you give those up for Lent, too?)

More can be learned about Spanish Festivals at http://www.spanish-living.com/entertainment_index.php.

And low and behold, to round out Spain as an entertainment Mecca, there are ventriloquists (ventriloquia), too. Here's a clip of the very popular Isodoro Golman. Isodoro is obviously a seasoned professional, with a smooth style.  I picked what my naive eye estimated was the most Spaniard-y of his characters.

Enjoy.

***

Am I ever going to complete the epic "Down Under" tribute?  Guess you'll just have to keep checking in. It's going to be a humdinger.

***

Visits from Bahrain and the United Arab Emirates (Abu Dhabi, no less) have presented a big challenge: If they have entertainment and ventriloquism info online, it's in أربيك.  It's really hard to search the web in أربيك. Especially when you don't speak أربيك.

***

Someone from Chile also visited BV, but I've only managed to find ventriloquist video from Argentina. I can't quite just assume that the Chileans will take kindly to me thinking Argentina is "close enough."

If Chileans reacted to that like I do when people talk about where I live in Wisconsin as "just like Minnesota"... oh, please stop me from starting another international incident.

And 5, 6, 7, 8...

*** Third in a series ***

Max LeMonk, the monkey puppet, and I wandered through the rocky, cactusy, tumbleweedy desert night, looking for Max's MP3 player. The question, "where did you have it last?" frustratingly rolled across the stony hills over and over.

Then over a berm, we saw flickering, and heard what sounded like the faint tones of a medley from A Chorus Line. Max and I glanced at each other with a sense of both excitement and fear.  Max did not remember being in this apart of the desert. Was it really his MP3 player? Had it taken living form to move?

And was Max into show tunes?  He did look sheepish as he recognized the tune.

On the crest of the hill, we saw fireflies in a kick line formation  and a buzzing and crackling that alluded to a voice singing "One - singular sensation, every little step she takes." As we crested over the mound, we saw don Rey Ortega, the nagual*, sitting at a fire. "Oh, geez," Max muttered. "How didn't I see this coming?"

Don Rey simply turned and smiled.  "Don Rey," I said with respect. "What magic controls the small creatures? From what muses does the music come?" With a nod, he answered:

What appear to be fireflies are actually burning embers. And the music? Well I just happen to like show tunes. Sitting by the campfire on a moonless night is a great time to find inspiration, creativity and listen to that little voice inside.

As don Rey turned his head, an old-style earphone became obvious in his ear. Then in his hand we saw a 60s-vintage transistor radio. Max grumbled, "Well, that ain't my dang MP3 player. He probably hocked it." Don Rey rose and inexplicably threw dirt on Max's shoes, and Max inexplicably started to tap dance with a skill no monkey puppet possesses.

My eyes opened wide in amazement. Don Rey continued his wise consult:

You see this pile of wood here next to the campfire? Those logs represent ideas that are hidden in our minds. All potential but no action. Once tossed into the fire, the sparks of what could be dance into the air!

"Could you potentially let me stop this damn dancing? Or at least some Rogers and Hammerstein?" Max asked, huffing and puffing from exhaustion. Don Rey played with the tuning knob, and Max stopped. The nagual grinned, sighed, rubbed dirt into Max's hair, and said:

At that moment we must be ready to grasp the meaning of those momentary flashes of light and ideas. Many sparks of inspiration will swirl into the night, yet only a few can you take with you.

We heard a wolf howl in a full moon. We stared at the moon together in silence, then spontaneously and in unison sang, though I myself had never really known the words:

"Kiss today goodbye,

And point me t'ward tomorrow.

We did what we had to do.

Won't forget,

Can't regret

What I did for love."

And just as we started to break into harmony, don Rey covered himself with his poncho and disappeared. In his place stood a sandwich board with a note tacked to it. The note read:

What will you do with your inspiration and imagination? How many will you keep? How many will you use? This advice is free. The price you pay depends on what you do or don't do with what you have been given.

The sandwich board advertised the upcoming season of "Music, Music, and more Music" at the local village's playhouse. There was an opera version of Elmer Gantry, a premiere performance of a show about two actors and their dancebelts, Fiddler on the Roof - All Goy Cast!...

...and A Chorus Line.

***
For those of you who want to sing along
with Don Rey, Max, and Dan,
Here's a "What I Did for Love" link.
Come on - I know you all want to.
***

Dear Regular Readers (the whole glint** of you):

I am back as promised. Glad you are, too. I home you can tell from this post that I was off on a spiritual retreat. You did get that idea, didn't you?

***

*A nagual is a mystic Shaman leader, not to be confused with a narwhal, which is a fascinating arctic aquatic mammal.  As soon as I can come up with the thinnest connection between a narwhal and ventriloquism, I'll be writing at length about them.

** A glint is a group of goldfish. It could also be a trouble of goldfish. Regular readers: You are no trouble - at least so far.

***

When not causing monkey puppets to imitate Fred Astaire in Top Hat, don Rey Ortega's un-dons his mojo and his exploits are on wonderful display at reyortegaentertainment.com.  Thanks, Rey - Did the Mayans have some equivalent of Broadway? I mean, without lights, obviously. Or maybe?

Spring Break

Dear Regular Readers (the whole gaggle of you):

I'm taking the week off from Budding Ventriloquist.  Don't forget to come back on March 29. I'll make sure you are glad you did!

Dan Bushman
Budding Ventriloquist

Are you serious?

Dear Joel and Ethan Coen:

Fargo was really good. 

The Big Lebowski will forever be in my top 10 best movies ever. I even have a "The Dude Abides" tee shirt, even though I never wear tee shirts with sayings on it. The movie is that classic.

Then, last night, I watched A Serious Man. I felt a kinship to the movie. The movie's viewers, just like my blog readers, will:

• Wonder what the point is;
• Realize it's funny, but aren't sure why;
• Be a tad concerned about the person who thought it up;
• Have the word "weird" flash in their heads;
• Feel more than a little bit confused; and
• Wish they could be ventriloquists, too.

Well, the last thing might not be an immediate reaction, but ...wait for it.

Yours in movies,


Dan Bushman
Budding Ventriloquist
Abider

Here come old flat top

For years and years, I played guitar, sang pop songs, and complained about the Beatles.

Damn tenors. So many songs were just out of my range.  The greatest songwriting colaboration of all time, and I couldn't do 90 percent of their catalog.

So imagine my surprise when I found out I am one.

Not a Beatle. I'm a tenor.

Let me explain.

For months I've sat and listened as my daughter sang at voice lessons.  It's been fascinating to hear a good voice teacher like Nancy pick at, suggest, and otherwise coach improvements into someone's singing. So with my daughter out of town and the lesson already paid for, I thought it would be fun to take her place for one lesson.

Nancy started by doing warm up scales which also test my range. "I'm a baritone," I said, going though the paces.

"No, Dan," she said.  "You're a tenor."

She showed me how I'm strong in the tenor range, weaker as I go lower. Chest voice range starts here, turns into head voice there. And to top it off, after running though a baritone rendition of "Younger than Springtime" from South Pacific, she found a tenor version, complete with a big finish on high G.

I nailed it.

Yikes.  I'm approaching 50 years old. I've been a baritone all my life. I was as sure of that as I am sure I am the son of Mary and Woody Bushman.

Oh, my. I have my birth certificate. You can't fake one of those, can you? Can you?

I guess the bright side is that at least now it is finally possible for me to be the fifth Beatle. That's something.

***

Yes, I admit it. Back in High school, we made fun of guys who were tenors. Even the choir director used to say, "Now, the lower voices. Tenors... and men..."

I'm sorry. It was mean. And come to think of it, you guys got all the chicks.

***

There seems to be a general rule in ventriloquism that people will always enjoy a singing ventriloquist dummy, and I believe it. Terry Fator is exceptional at it, just like a great soloist sets himself apart.

But for every Terry Fator-quality ventriloquist, there are so many lesser, though no less proud, talents. So what if a bunch of them formed - just like lesser, yet proud singers do - a choir...

And sang a Beatles song...

On Hungarian television...

Your 24/7 source?

At the top of the hour:

A potential mid-term election issue: Proccupied with healthcare reform and jobs bills, President Obama puts Ventriloquist In Space Program (VISP) on the back burner.

Focus on Fashion: Ventriloquist in Space logo - the now and happening tramp stamp, or 70s throwback?

Solvenian Quagmire, Day 25:  Same quag, different day

Movies: Feature film aVENTar snubbed by Academy snobs. (See plot and ad)

Vent Channel to Conan:  It's been a week, make up your mind.
Hugh Laurie: House MD has an "American accent", or is it ventriloquism?

Budding Ventiloquist Olympics Coverage: Best Olympic coverage by any ventriloquism website.

Max LeMonk Special Commentary: No Logo Thursday's identity crisis.

And I think it's gonna be a long, long time

Ventriloquist In Space Program

Astronauts Named

Hudson, WI (BV) - Dan Bushman, Executive Director of the Ventriloquist in Space Program Proposal Program (VISPPP), announced this morning that he and ventriloquist dummy Steed Hideaway will be the first ventriloquist/ dummy names to be advanced to NASA and President Obama for consideration.

"I think it's time to get tangible. Time to say,'here's our IDs, give us our boarding passes and send us through security'," Bushman said. Bushman's announcement was paired with the unveiling of the new program logo, which features artist renditions of Bushman and Hideaway.

Critics on Capitol Hill, concerned about Bushman's involvement in the Slovenian quagmire, considered the announcement ill-timed.

"We need to start from scratch, with a blank sheet of paper. Americans do not want this. They are trying to take away your liberty. They will hurt baby kittens," said Majority Leader Rep. John Boehner (R-Ohio). "Oh wait. That's my canned speech about healthcare reform. Would someone get me my VISP talking points?"

***

The current status of Slovenian relations is Orange. We are mired in quag. Lots and lots of quag.

***

How do you like this logo for VISP?  Let us know. The phone lines are open.

Alley Whoops

*** Second in a series ***

Max LeMonk, the monkey puppet, and I wandered out of the locally-owned, fair trade coffeehouse and down the main street, engaged in caffeine-jazzed banter. My standard breve' and Max's triple-shot latte skinny with a shot of vanilla and chocolate sprinkles (he is so really high maintenance) played tricks with our eyes, giving the street lights a gaslight aura.

We turned down an alley to take a short cut, and came across a sock abandoned on the ground.  The sock had two buttons sewn on it, and a line of yarn making a rudimentary mouth. The caffeine-induced heightened state of awareness sent Max and I racing to pick it up. It evoked a sadness in my hands. (That's right. MY hands. Beat ya again, Max-o!)

We were startled by a tap on the shoulder. It was don Rey Ortega. On his head was a dew rag with a coyote and a Harley Davidson motorcycle which magically chased each other around his head.

"Don Rey," I said, holding out the tattered sock puppet, trying not to be distracted by the dew rag (the coyote seemed to be winning), "What are we to make of this? I mean, besides making it into a sock puppet?" Don Rey took it in his hands.

Learn to read animal tracks in the desert, you find where it eats, where it sleeps. Even a rock will teach you things if you sit with it long enough.

This old sock puppet belonged to a beginning ventriloquist. Notice the haphazard way the buttons that suggest eyes are been sewn on, each a different color, size and looking in opposite directions. What does this tell you?

Max and I looked at each other. Max mouthed the words, "trick question." I elbowed Max, and asked don Rey to enlighten us.

The thick green and fuzzy yarn sewn onto it to resemble a mouth in an uneven zigzag pattern tells this puppet was not allowed to speak. It's only way to communicate was to nod yes or no. It was forced to listen to a one way conversation.

Max rolled his eyes and mumbled out of the side of his mouth, "like this one." I covered Max's mouth with my hand (Max, no biting!). Then I asked, "Was he lost or left here on purpose?" Don Rey inexplicably threw dirt on my shoes, and said:

I do not know for sure. To find out, put your hand inside then remove the green zigzag yarn and tuck the material into the palm of your hand to form the mouth and it will tell you it's story.

I did as he instructed and held it to my ear but heard nothing.  Max watched me, exasperated, and said, "Or look for a ventriloquist with the naked puppet hand."

Max gloated at his own glibness. Don Rey just smiled, inexplicably tossed dirt on Max's shoes, and said to Max:

Go find a rock and sit on it.

And before Max could reply, don Rey waved his arms, and a sudden wind swept the puppet from my and and onto Max's face. We heard don Rey's voice fade, saying:

And put a sock in it.

Then don Rey disappeared in a puff of hazy white smoke that smelled like the generic talcium in my bathroom. In his place was a single red and blue argyle sock, two buttons, and the book Sock Puppets for Dummies.

And his dew rag, but only the coyote remained.

***

Homework assignment:  Write a parody of this Mystic Moment. Take actual passages and make them farcical. For full credit, show your work.

***

When not donning a significant amount of "don-ness", Rey Ortega's adventures in entertainment can be found at reyortegaentertainment.com. Thanks, Rey - you put the mist in mystic. Or is it myst that you put in mystic?

That old March Madness has me in its spell

March Madness, aka the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament, has reared it's mad head again. This year I'm thrilled to have this blog up and running, because I finally get to do something tangible to pay special tribute to the 1977 Champion Marquette Warriors.*

Specifically, I wish to honor the late, great coach Al McGuire. The 1970s were an awesome time to be following basketball in Milwaukee. The Bucks had Lew Alcindor** and Oscar Robertson and a world championship, and Marquette was an elite college team with a colorful coach.

I am proud to add Al McQuire to the "face that belongs on a ventriloquist dummy" list. Al's sense of humor and his infectous smile are in so many ways what ventriloquism should be all about. I'm sure Al would have been delighted to know his name made the V-face List.

How cool was he?

With proper attributions to Jennifer Taglione, owner of  the website Stiletto Sports, I humbly lift her remarkable reporting that:

After hours of searching I can finally reveal that the term “the Big Dance” was coined in 1977 by Marquette University Head Coach Al Maguire. Here’s what Kevin Byrne, the former Sports Information Director of Marquette University said.

"The year we won it all [1977], Coach McGuire wore a lucky blue blazer. At the end of the season, a reporter asked him if he’d keep wearing it during the Tournament. Al said, “Absolutely. You gotta wear the blue blazer when you go to the big dance.” ~Answer Guy, ESPN

Can you name a Charlie McCarthy quip with that staying power?

***

* Now called the Golden Eagles. I'll rant about this over-application of political correctness some other time.
** If you don't know who Lew Alcindor was, use The Google and find out.

***

Were you thinking, "It's Monday. Where's my Budding Ventriloquist Mystic Moment?

Discussing the concept with a co-worker of routinely doing Mystic Moment Monday as a way of normalizing a posting schedule, he said, "that's not very mystic, is it? To have it be regular?"

Of course, he is correct. I'm not even sure I should be hinting that there's a Mystic Moment right around the corner. To keep it a little mysterious, I should suggest that I could just be referring to how there can be a great revelation around every corner...

You're not falling for that, are you?

***

Yes, I talk to co-workers about the fact that I write a blog about ventriloquism, the world of ventriloquism, the spiritual essence of ventriloquism, the mystic underpinnings of ventriloquism...

They seem to accept it. They don't eat with me at lunch, but they accept it.

And Conan?

Using the same programming model as the History Channel and History International Channel, where the shows hold so tightly to the channel's namesake concept (history), I'm thrilled to announce the initial mix for my new cable TV concept, The VENT Channel:

• Unidentified flying objects

• Masons
• Unidentified flying ventriloquists
• Alien cover-up conspiracies
• Modern engineering feats
• Famous ventriloquists
• Giant engineering marvels
• Alien ventriloquists
• The Bermuda Triangle
• Modern dummy feets
• Ventriloquist cover-up conspiracies
• Ice road truckers
• Mason ventriloquists
• Mysterious ventriloquist disappearances
• Roswell, NM
• Ice trucker ventriloquists

I'm just starting to secure the rights to the programs.

***

I might have to rethink some of this.  My list seems to be a little heavy with ventriloquism-oriented shows.  What would happen if the History Channel ran nothing but history shows?

And, the list feels a little light on shows about the masons. Light, too, on 2012 - the year, not the movie, with or without my alternative ending. 

***

Dear Conan O'Brien:

I'm serious. You can have one hour a night, only have to do 4 nights a week, and 100 percent creative control to be the Vent Channel's marquee program. And you can bring that Andy guy, too.

Who put you on the V-Face list when you needed a reason to smile, huh? Come on, you barbarian! You know ya wanna!

Sincerely,

Dan Bushman

Director of Programming, The Vent Channel

Budding Ventriloquist
Thinker

Blog Oleo

Gather 'round children, let me tell you about the oleo wars...

I come from Wisconsin, you see. America's Dairyland.  There was a time when the powerful dairy industry fought and, for a time, was winning the fight to keep us safe from oleo. There were laws banning the use of food coloring to make oleo look butter yellow.  It was taxed heavily.  There was a black market for oleo.  There was bootleg oleo to be had for a price.

Oleo? It's what is now known as margarine.  The full word used to be oleomargarine. On the south side of Milwaukee, we called it oleo. Of course, like so many things about southsiders, our way would not be the way of the world. Margarine it would be.

Why the babbling about oleo? Because the word to me means "a cheap subsitute for the real thing." We were supposed to pretend it tasted as good as butter, but we knew it didn't.

This post is blog oleo - a placeholder for an "olympic coverage" quality post for Australia and New Zealand. I have been piecing together the big "Down Under Special," but it hasn't congealed yet. And you know and I know, if there's one thing I'm committed to, it's congealed Budding Ventriloquist posts.

So, for now, here's some blog oleo.  It will do. I promise something more flavorful on the Aussies and the Kiwis soon.

*** Blog Oleo Warning***

An Australian ventriloquist visiting New Zealand walks into a small town and sees a local sitting on his porch patting his dog. He figures he'll have a little fun.

Ventriloquist: Hey, good looking dog, mate. Mind if I speak to him?
New Zealander: The dog doesn't talk, you stupid Aussie.
Ventriloquist: Hey dog, how's it going old mate?
Dog: Doin' alright.

The New Zealander is shocked!

Ventriloquist: Is this Kiwi your owner? (Pointing at the New Zealander)
Dog: Yep.
Ventriloquist: How does he treat you?
Dog: Real good. He walks me twice a day, feeds me great food, and takes me to the lake once a week to play.

The New Zealander can't believe his ears!

Ventriloquist: Mind if I talk to your horse?
New Zealander: Horse doesn't talk either.
Ventriloquist: Hey horse, how's it going?
Horse: No worries.

The New Zealander's mouth is agape.

Ventriloquist: Is this your owner? (Pointing at the New Zealander)
Horse: Yep.
Ventriloquist: How's he treat you?
Horse: Pretty good, thanks for asking. He rides me regularly, brushes me down often, and keeps me in the barn to protect me from the elements.

The New Zealander is TOTALLY amazed!

Ventriloquist: Mind if I talk to your sheep?
New Zealander: The sheep's a liar.

***

One one hand, I don't want to create a logo for blog oleo. That implies that it's a regular feature, which would be to say I am planning to regularly settle for a substandard substitute for original work.

Then again, as the margarine lobbyists proved, marketing is everything, isn't it?

***

As I enter the post-Winter Olympics incarnation of Budding Ventriloquist, you may have noticed I've gone a bit "logo whacky."  As I consider a new level of organization to BV, like having a weekly routine (Mystic Moment Monday?). I might go with No Logo Thursday. It would be a day for something free and not so programmed.

You'll know it's No Logo Thursday when you see this:

Here they come, walkin' down the street

Hey, hey, Slovakia - your future is bright.

To recap your Olympic "triumph", finishing fourth in Olympic hockey isn't that bad.  You played with heart and put your stake in the ground.  You are going to be back, hungrier than ever, in 2014.

Not knowing much about hockey, I can tell you I enjoyed your style on the ice more than Finland. I also like the fact you checked out the Budding Ventriloquist Winter Olympic Coverage (TM), something the Fins decided just wasn't all that important to them.

In fact, I feel so snubbed, I'm telling my favorite Fin joke just to poke them:

Question: Two Fins are talking. How can you tell which one is the extrovert and which one is the introvert?

Answer:  The extrovert is the one looking at the other guy's shoes.

(Sorry, my Slovakian friends. Didn't mean to cut in on your blogtime with a rant about the Fins. But I'm sure you agree they deserve it.)

The Slovakians are not only athletes, but scientists, too.  Professor Norbert Kopco, Department of Cybernetics and Artificial Intelligence, Technical University of Koice, Slovakia, (and his gang) recently published "Reference Frame of the Ventriloquism Aftereffect" in The Journal of Neuroscience.  This a fascinating illustration of how ventriloquism is important not only to art but to science as well.

Cutting though the technical mumbo-jumbo, the study was about how quickly the brain can determine where sound is coming from if the source of the sound is not what your eyes tell you it is. If you prefer, we're talking "mismatched visual stimuli on auditory localization."  There, now you get it better?

This study was done on both humans and monkeys, which leads to the obvious next step to which I offer Professor Kopce my assistance.  What if the sound was audibly coming from a man, but visually coming out of a monkey? What would the results be on humans? On monkeys?

Max and I stand by, ready to help. (So there's no misunderstanding, we'll need to cut into the grant money for the trip.  Unless we happen to be some place near by - like Slovenia.)

Finally, sports, science, and pure entertainment are a triple threat.  And that pure entertainmment comes from Slovakian magician and ventriloquist Jaroslav Seman.  Here's Jaro entertaining children. The charm of the children's laughter goes to show how kids are so willing to suspend disbelief, and clearly Jaro's skill has them convinced that silly rabbit talks. Of course they know it's a puppet, but it a magical one.

***

Okay, Okay. I hear you. Stop the phone calls. Save your stamps, hold the hate mail. The logo for the Ventriloquist in Space Program (VISP) that was on yesterday's post needs some work. And I'm working on it.

I will tell you, there's a market for astronaut and ventriloquist clip art. There's a surprisingly huge absence of it right now.  I know that will change once VISP is successful, but right now it's all scratch work.

Pioneering isn't all tea, crumpets, and grand pianos, ya know.

And a real Slovenian translator, please...

Dear NASA and President Obama:

Just a couple of things today. I know you're busy with your current missions and health care reform.

First: I sense you might be a little anxious about the Ventriloquist In Space Program (VISP) these days, and I admit I deserve the blame. As you fight for funds at congressional hearings, you sure don't need dweebs like Senator Orrin Hatch asking you, "So, is this the same budding ventriloquist who dragged this country into the Slovenian quagmire?"

Believe me, it's got my undies in a bundle, too. Right now, the nickels and dimes that I had been squirreling away for my pedometer (astronauts must be ever fit!) are now going into the "superfund" for my inevitable ventriloquist tour of Slovenia.  Just when you folks and I were making some headway, too.

I do have a solution that might turn this lemon into lemonade, and it comes down to two words: Slovenian in space.

You make the offer to the good people of Slovenia to put one of their own on a mission. Start teaching him (or her) all the astronaut stuff. I work on my ventriloquism (and my Slovenian). By the time we a blasting off together in a few years, everybody's smiling and clinking bottles. Problem solved.

Second: How do you like the VISP logo?  Pretty sweet, huh?

Now that we have a logo - I need to ask if you could sport me, oh, $100,000 or so for stationery.  Trust me, with the PR campaigns (English and Slovenian) that I have planned, I don't want to underestimate the supplies.

Do you have any idea how much stationery gets wasted in printer/copier paper jams alone? Let's just say Senator Hatch have a hearing on that issue and let you poor guys alone. There's a balanced budget, if not a whole new global ecomony, to be gained by cutting out that waste.

Hope you and your families are well, and I look forward to hearing from you soon.

Yours in space,


Dan Bushman
Budding Astronaut
Budding Ventriloquist
American

***

The status of Slovenian relations is available 24/7 by checking the color code in the sidebar.  The status as of this posting continues to be Orange. Yep, it's a quagmire, all right.

In the desert, you can remember your name

***First in a series***

Max LeMonk, the monkey puppet, and I wandered the cool, clear, dry, dark hills, guided by the moonlight.  Lost in conversation, we were nonetheless enrapt by the earthbound nature of our relationship. Max seemed especially conscious of the idea that without earth and without me, his existence, not to mention his head, would become quite hollow.

Then we happened across an old man in a blanket (well, he just turned 50. That's not old. Heck, I turn 50 this year, too) who uncovered himself when we tripped over him.  It was don Rey Ortega, a yaqui shaman; the ventriloquist nagual.*

After scolding us for, in the huge open spaces of the desert, managing to stumble (ouch!) over him, he spoke from his soul - and his hand, ala Senior Wences. Then he summoned a voice from his napsack, just because he could. We acknowledged the presence of a master, and deposited a fivespot into his hat.

We asked don Rey whether perfection in ventriloquism was possible on this earth.

He replied:

"Like my Master once told me, there are secret and powerful phrases that can lead you to the road of success.

This is ancient Sanskrit and before you speak it out loud, be sure of your intentions then say to yourself with total conviction,

'Yagatta Wanna.'"

Max and I stood motionless, feeling the power of don Rey's words. Then we did as don Rey instructed us. Max explained how lost he feels, and is desire to follow a path to wisdom and enlightenment.  Don Rey smiled, inexplicably tossed dirt on Max's shoes, and said:

"Hold your hands in a prayer position and say,

'Bailo selhai.'"

Then, in a sudden burst of dust and wind, don Rey disappeared. In his place was a flier for a cruise ship vacation, two tokens for free drinks, and the night.

***

* Carlos Casteneda wrote several spiritual/mystical books in the 1960s and 1970s. His mentor was don Juan Matus, who had the "energetic configuration of a 'nagual'", and, if the spirit chose, could become a leader of a party of seers. Books of this nature are engrossing to me  when I get my head around the big concepts. His later works, when Casteneda was past his peyote madness, are particularly good reads for a spiritual thrill seeker.

So imagine a ventriloquist nagual, who, when the spirit chose, could become the leader of a party of voice throwers. Probably the life of the party, too.

It's not too big a leap at all. Is it?

Casteneda's books were also subject to debate for being published as non-fiction while considered by many to be pure fiction.  Now doubt, this post will cause the same debate.

(I just tell you this background so you don't think I'm just making stuff up. Because I'm not, you know.)

***

When not being a nagual, or at least a nagual wannabe, Rey Ortega's adventures in entertainment can be found at  reyortegaentertainment.com. Thanks, Rey, for joining the fun.

Quagmire, smagmire

I'm working on it.

Faced with a certain sense of inevitability, I'm working on my ventriloquism. And, I'm working on my Slovenian. And, I am going to eat a lot of bologna sandwiches, and save my lunch money, and squirrel it away.

A promise it a promise.  I just know that as sure as an infinite number of monkeys randomly typing would eventually type out all the works of Shakespeare - My butt is going to wind up in Slovenia. 

(Shhh. Don't let my wife know about the money thing. It's a surprise. I'm taking her with.)

What am I talking about?
I'm talking about a mess. During the Budding Ventriloquist Winter Olympic Coverage (TM), I made this inspirational challenge to the Slovenian athletes:

If Slovenia takes a medal in the 2010 Winter Games, I will do everything in my power to travel to Slovenia and give them a ventriloquism show.

I even picked two athletes, Tina Maze and Petra Majdic, to talk up and personally cheer on.

What happened?
They won medals. Both of them!

Petra broke four ribs when she crashed on the course.  Did she stop? No. And Tina showed my challenge was better than being on the cover of Slovenian Sports Illustrated* - because it's surely no jinx.

So what's the problem?

I'm broke. Broke, broke, broke. I can't afford this.

Any other problems?

None that a little talent wouldn't solve. Like speaking Slovenian and being able to do ventriloquism.

Why worry?
These people lived under the dictatorship of Marshall Tito. And to be sure, these good people are free of that. But one only wonders about the secret factions looking to relive all that dictatory stuff on the head of a foreigner who doesn't keep promises.

Or maybe, just maybe, they might just consider it a snub, creating an international incident. The next thing you know, the US government is trying to buy their goodwill back with the shares of General Motors that we own. Remember the Yugo? 

(To be accurate, the Yugo automobile was manufactured in Serbia/Yugoslavia, not Slovenia/Yugoslavia - but you see where I'm going here?)

Mountain? Molehill?

I just don't want this to be a grassy knoll.  The mysterious nail in my tire is as mysterious as the Slovenian secret police, if you get my drift.

Current Status: Orange

Borrowing a brilliant concept from the Homeland Security peeps, you'll be able to check on the status 24/7 by visiting this blog and checking the color coding system.

The current status - Orange - means we're in a quagmire, requiring heightened ... stuff.

Yea. Stuff.

Come on, people - a little break, please. Just because I covered the Olympics doesn't mean I can just pull this crisis management stuff out of thin air. Or is it just "quagmire" management stuff right now?

See? Now even I'm confused.

***

* Slovenian Sports Illustrated is an illusory, metaphorical, and conceptual artifice.  That means I just made that up.

***

Readers Poll

 What conveys more urgency: The tropical orange that the word "quagmire" is in, or the burnt orange that is on the chart?

The polls are open, and like they say in Illinois: Vote early. Vote often.

Fire, no reign

*** SORT-OF BREAKING NEWS ***

(Sort-of breaking, Sort-of news)

Leonid Tyagachev, the head of the Russian Olympic Committee,  resigned on Wednesday because 15 medals just isn't good enough for a former superpower.

He was going to get fired anyway because Russian President Dmitry Medvedev was all torqued off about finishing sixth in the medal count.  Even Austria (who didn't, by the way, stop in at the Budding Ventriloquist Winter Olympics Coveragetm kegger) scored more medals than the big bear.

(Apparently, Russian unemployment insurance treats quitting before you get fired and actually getting fired the same. Like Minnesota.)

They were late to the dance (see Finally, they're Russian in), but they did show up to BVWOC. That other big country with an identity problem, China, didn't show at all. If I find out that the Chinese government blocked my blog, well... can you say "human rights violation"? But I digress...

 

Leonid, I do have some good news and some not-so-good news.  The good news is there are jobs out there for smart guys like you. Most people understand that you did what you could but, hey, it wasn't you on the skis or the bobsled or the curling stone. Well, not ON the curling stone... but you get my point.

The not-so-good news is that even though I wanted to give you a little boost on a bad day, you are a pretty normal and average looking guy. I can't put you on the "Face that belongs on a ventriloquist dummy" list.

Sorry. But ask Payton Manning about it. He didn't make it either. Or Archie. Or Eli. The disappointment doesn't go away, really, but like many things - you learn to accept it and move on. Don't go lining up in front of your biathlon team or anything.

FYI - if it matters at all to you:

• Russian Speed Skater Ivan Skovbrev was the only Olympic athlete to make it, and it was only for being caught on film at a bad (or good?) moment. So Russia was honored in a very unique way at the Games under your watch.
• Dmitry Medvedev and Vladimir Putin don't even come close to making the list.

Feel a little better now, Leonid?

***

China. South Korea. Trinidad and Tobago.  Just a few world powers who obviously thought there were better parties to go to than the Budding Ventriloquist Winter Olympics Coverage (TM).  I guess, even in a global community, a guy needs to know who his friends really are, and who they are not.

Austria was just too busy playing with their Edelweiss for even a courtesy call. I think you all know one budding ventriloquist that's not watching Sound of Music again.

***

It's not who didn't show up, it's who did that matters, isn't it? I'm still picking up empty beer cans, for heaven's sake. What a ripsnorter!

That was the Olympics that... is

Unlike NBC's coverage, the Budding Ventriloquist Winter Olympic Coverage (TM) closing ceremonies won't be preempted by some wierd Jerry Seinfeld reality show.

Why not?  Because BV, unlike network television, is classy.

When the planning for BVWOC started weeks and weeks ago, I had modest hopes. I never teamed it would grow to the magnitude that it did.  Maybe I underestimated the enormity of the games or the challenge of covering the games from 1,500 miles away with the help of only two puppets.

I definitely way overestimated the number of Winter Olympic athletes who were also ventriloquists. I thought I'd find at least one.

In the end:

• 
  
  28 countries that are not the United States came to the BVWOC party;
• 
  
  I now have ventriloquist friends in Poland and Denmark;
• 
  
  There's a very neat collection of non-English speaking ventriloquist videos to be found; and
• 
  
  After an exhaustive hunt, it's all but definite that athletes don't pick ventriloquism as a hobby. Go figure.

Here's the good news. Using the ongoing Olympic spirit as a total excuse - I'm not done yet. I missed a few countries. I didn't do Bahrain (thought I missed you rascals sneaking in, didn't you?). I had a great vision of a "colossal Down Under special edition" for Australia and New Zealand, then realized blogs don't lend themselves to being "colossal." Slovakia was being prepped, but I just didn't know what to say after their hockey guys finished by losing to the Finnish.

And, I'm a little embarrassed that it didn't cross my mind until the big hockey game - I forgot to do Canada. And I tell ya, they seemed to be all over the place at the Games from what I saw on TV.

So there's some leftovers that I will serve up warm - and from the stove, too, not the microwave. They will be just as fresh as the tasty BVWOC I dished you while the Games were in progress.

That's the Budding Ventriloquist way.