These Power Converters are Awesome

This is a great description of why Luke Skywalker is a complete idiot:

Well done, Luke. Why should “Obi-Wan coming back as a ghost to give important instructions” convey any significance to you? Why should not pay attention to the one muppet who knows how to use the Force? You’re just a jerk who nearly turned into a Hoth-sicle—you surely know better than both of ‘em!

Keeping 9-1-1 In Business

I just had to post this, since I know how much Matt likes his deep-fried turkeys:

Love how it just catches fire when the fireman takes the lid off.

Under Expansion

For the first time in over 4 years I’m happy to finally say “NeoZAZ.com is no longer under construction!”

A more accurate phrase at this point may be “NeoZAZ is under expansion”. Now that the ground work is laid, and the backend of the new site is up and running, NeoZAZ will continue to grow and expand, without the need to take the whole site down.

Thanks to a permanent rss feed location and apache rewrite_mod, all future changes and additions will no longer affect any bookmarks, rss readers, page links, etc any more.

The first bit of expansion came this evening. We’ve uploaded our past film projects, and added the first 2 parts of “Star Trek: The Next Generation: The Night Shift”.

Keep looking for future additions and expansion of NeoZAZ.com, there’s a lot more to come.

Stupid Midnight

There should be a handful of people out there that will get a kick out this one:

I’ve figuratively banged my head against the wall for the past 20 minutes trying to figure out a coding problem that wasn’t a coding problem.

After working all weekend and several night’s straight on a project, I’m one tiny detail from finally being able to pull everything together. That tiny detail to convert the datestamp from a form entry in the date seconds of the Unix Epoch of which several calendar elements are generated from in the rest of the project.

Should be a simple line of code, take like 2 minutes to type it in and test it.

Huh. It’s giving me tomorrow’s date.

Okay, somehow I through in a stray “-“ somewhere or something stupid.

No, that’s not it.

Okay, let me start isolating each section of the code.

Nothing.

I finally isolate the 7 lines for the 400 on that file – that actual code that converts the date. I add a simple echo to see what it’s converting the date to and see what’s going on.

WTF?! It still say tomorrow?

“Honey,” I yell, “What’s the date?”

“The 25th” she answers.

“That’s what I thought.”

Damn it, it’s still giving me one day out!

Oh, wait. What time is it? Ohhhhhh. 12:36am.

Stupid Unix Epoch – it should know I haven’t gone to bed yet so as far and I’m concerned it’s still 2008-25-11, or 1227589200 seconds from 1970-1-1!

Just end it already

I’m inviting a shite load of flame mail and comments with this one, but here it goes anyway.

I’m pretty much over investing years of my television watching life only to be extremely disappointed by the series finale. The Sopranos screwed me good over a year ago. Tonight, The Shield took its turn at making me feel I’ve wasted yet another 7 years of my time yet again.

I’ve waited with great anticipation for the series finale of The Shield tonight. And within the first hour, there were some surprise I wasn’t expecting. Those surprised lead me to believe this was going to be one of the all time classic series ending, everything will wrap up, a big surprise at the end maybe, who know? But it’s going to be good.

Huh. Well, seems they’ve decided to put the main character, the only one anyone is really concerned with, in a situation that – if you’ve gotten to know the character in the past 7 years – could go in almost any direction. Then, bam – end.

I understand the realistic side of the ending – I understand the emotional impact that’s being conveyed by putting Vic in the situation he now faces for the next three years – and I truly, really (though I’m sure a lot of people will argue) totally get why it ended the way it did.

“So, what do want, a big Hollywood ending that wraps up everything in a neat little package” you may ask?

In a word: YES. I do, I honestly do. After 7 years of waiting, I want an ending. Yes, wrapping everything up would be “contrived” perhaps even cheap. But it’s television for god sake! It’s not world changing social events here, it’s nowhere near something like, ew, I don’t know, Obama getting elected president. It’s f’ing’s TV!!! Wrap it up! Don’t leave it hanging, don’t be clever, or thoughtful – be what you are, television – an “idiot box” that’s captured peoples attention for countless hours a week. So now that you’ve grabbed multiple millions of viewers, end the god damn thing right – screw this “oh, look. That’s so poignant and powerful. I can only imagine what he’ll go through over the next few years.” I DON’T WANT TO IMAGINE – that’s why I’m watching in the first place, to take a break from imagining. Show me what freakin’ happens to Vic, Ronny, Claudette, the kid serial killer! In the end, you’re a money machine from advertising, merchandise and DVD sales; you’re not changing the world. Why act like it – end the f’ing story!

Damn it!

Album Covers of the Week Year Decade Century

This compilation of album covers/promo pictures of Swedish dance bands from the seventies is unbelievable. I realize that every trend in fashion looks dated six months to a year later. But I think we can all agree that the seventies is shaping up to be the blackest mark on the entire previous century.

I’ve been to Sweden, and I’ve met many Swedes. They are some of the nicest, most helpful and friendliest people around. Easily as attractive and cosmopolitan as (if not moreso than) any other nationality.

So why did they produce some of the most hideously goggle-eyed, mulleted, cro-magnon-looking musicians ever to strap on polyester bell-bottoms in the seventies?

My favorites have to be the Teddy Boys, for awesome shoulder-capes:

And Andreas of Tellus, for his “Abba wig on a Neanderthal” look:

PS: Also – sideburns.

The most important day in December

More important than Christmas – more important than New Years Eve – Even more important than Dave or my Birthdays – December 7th will be the last (planned) Television broadcast of “Trailer Park Boys”.

If you don’t know what “Trailer Park Boys” is, just plain shame on you! All I’m going to take the time to say is it’s a Canadian TV show that’s entertained me for the past 3 years, and the history of the franchise as whole from it’s beginnings to this last airing (and the last movie next year) has inspired and motivated me more than more pop culture and/or cult media outlets have in over a decade.

Without further ado, here is ShowCase’s sneak peak at the last episode entitled “Say Good Night to the Bad Guys”:

The Tregea – My Legacy in a Shaker

My current cocktail of choice is a drink called the Tregea.

Tregea is my middle name. It is also my father’s middle name. This is not a coincidence. It is also my father’s mother’s maiden name. There may be some relatives left with the last name of Tregea, but most of the ones I knew of are women, and so it’s not their last name anymore. Up until recently, I had thought it pretty unique. No one I ever met had ever heard it before, and I don’t go around using it very often, except in reference to this drink.

I thought it was unique until I Googled it, and the first hit was the Tregea hotel in Cornwall. I think I’ll have to stay there. Maybe if I tell them it’s my middle name, they’ll give me a free room. Or at least a free mint.

Interestingly enough, the second hit on Google is G. Tregea’s website, whose tagline is “5 minutes of art a day”, and is filled with crappy line drawings and animated GIFs posing as “Modern Art”, but in reality is just a headache in HTML. Kind of looks like something I’d draw, given 5 minutes a day, and access to MS Paint. I wonder if we’re related. Curiously, this site no longer shows up on Google. In fact, I can’t find it at all. Guess that five minutes of art a day didn’t add up to holding on to that domain name.

The Drink

Quite simply, the Tregea is a vodka martini, straight up, with a cherry. Traditionally, the preferred vodka is Grey Goose, but I have recently discovered Hangar One, which may usurp the Goose – time will tell.

What’s with the Cherry?

The cherry is the heart and soul of the whole cocktail. It’s what makes a Tregea a Tregea. Without the cherry, it’s just a vodka martini. Why should a mere garnish ennoble a drink so? I’ll tell you why. Because it’s so unexpected. That’s why I never actually named the drink until recently. When I first started ordering it, over a decade ago, I never thought it deserved its own name – it was just a vodka martini with a different garnish. But then I started to get The Reaction.

To experience The Reaction for yourself, merely go into your local bar and order a Tregea. Of course you can’t just order a Tregea – they have no idea what that is. You’ll have to explain it to them. You’ll have to order a vodka martini (preferably Grey Goose, or Hangar One) straight up, with a cherry. Make sure to enunciate that last part, or they won’t hear it. But once they do, you get to see The Reaction.

The Reaction is different in every bar and every town. In most places, they just kind of look at you funny, but write down your order and go on their way. Some bartenders will blink and ask you again, to make sure you said what they think they heard you say. On the extreme end, they refuse to do it. I’ve had this happen to me: At Jekyll & Hyde’s in Greenwich Village the bartender refused to put the cherry in the drink. He handed me a vodka martini in one hand, and a cherry in the other, but refused to merge the two together. As much as I admire his principles, I still didn’t tip the bastard. The customer is always right. Ironically enough, that was the one bar I’ve been to where my martinis were cheaper than the beer my friends were drinking. Must be some seriously classy beer. Of course, Grey Goose wasn’t around yet, either, and I was most likely getting cheap well vodka in my martini.

Over the years, as I kept ordering the drink and kept getting The Reaction, I realized that this was no simple vodka martini. It was a new drink in and of itself, with its own personality and deserving of its own name.

The Name

The name needed to be indicative of the drink. On one hand, it’s basically a vodka martini, which is one of the most popular cocktails of our time. But on the other hand, there’s this cherry sitting in the bottom of the glass, just taunting all those traditionalists, with their olives, and their lemon twists, and — in the case of the Gimlet — their pickled onions. This drink was unique to me (and my friend Eric, who is the only other person I know who has had more than one) and the name should reflect that. Hence, “The Tregea”. Other than my middle name sitting there daring anyone to pronounce it, my name is, at last check, the fifth most popular name in the English language. So it fits the drink rather well.

The History

But back to the cherry. How did a cherry ever begin to enter the sacred vodka martini? First, you have to understand the fact that I hate beer. This may seem tangential, but it actually plays a very big part in my alcoholic development (or is that my development as an alcoholic?). My history with the vodka martini all started with my first co-op job, and the fact that I hate beer.

I went to school at Drexel University in Philly, and one of the great things about Drexel is the co-op system. Everyone who goes there must do three co-ops. My first co-op was in the IT department at a big name engineering contracting corporation in Philadelphia (name withheld because even though it’s a big name contracting corporation, you still haven’t heard of it).

This was my first taste of the real world. The Rat Race. The 9 to 5. To tell you the truth, it was a heck of a lot easier than college. No homework, no all-nighters, no finals. Man, I definitely prefer work to school. Don’t get me wrong – I like learning. But organized learning stresses the hell out of me. Plus you’re poor all the time. No, I’ll take work over school any day.

It was not long before I started getting invited to happy hour and other extra-curricular events with the people in the office (it was my first time experiencing the Three Martini Lunch, for instance). Being a highly illegal 19 years old, I of course joined them at every opportunity. There’s no better fake ID than wearing a shirt and tie and being surrounded by people in similar dress. I never got carded that whole summer – at least not when I was out with them.

So, of course I need to figure out what to order at a bar. This was a new thing for me. The easiest thing to order would be beer, but, as I said before, I don’t like beer. I used to drink it, my freshman year, but that’s another story (watch for future articles under the title “When I was in Schuylkill Haven”). I hadn’t developed a taste for wine yet, at least not enough to know what to order at a bar without looking like the underage dolt that I was (“Do you have any shabliss?”). So that left mixed drinks.

Even though I was working, I was still a college student, and had a limited bankroll, so I wanted to make sure I maximized the enjoyment I got out of every bar dollar spent. This may come as a shock to some of you, but many mixed drinks you get at a bar are watered down. It’s true! And even those that aren’t are mostly juice or some other non-buzz-inducing chemical. I quickly found out that the only things from which I could be sure of getting my money’s worth were the straight-up cocktails, like martinis. And since I hate gin, I gravitated to vodka.

The next hurdle was the garnish. As it turns out, I also find olives to be repulsive (do you see a trend here?) so I had to find another garnish. The drunken masses (i.e. my co-workers) suggested a twist of lemon. I tried that. It’s OK. But it doesn’t really do much for the drink, does it? Vodka’s already pretty tasteless, and the vermouth takes the edge off of the vodka (or it should, if done right). So you add a bit of lemon rind and … so what? You get a slightly pleasant lemon taste. Good, but not great. And you can’t eat the lemon rind at the end of the drink, unless you’re severely masochistic.

Same for the pickled onion. First of all, it’s just weird putting an onion in a drink – onions belong on hamburgers, salads and ice cream – but hey, why not? Actually, it’s not that bad. But then I tried a cherry.

I cannot recall the first time I tried a cherry in a martini. I can only assume it was one of the many nights (heck, afternoons) Eric and I were experimenting with cocktail concoctions. Or perhaps our home bar stock of drink garnishes was depleted, and the only thing left was a cherry. Regardless, the end result was the beginning of a legend.

Even the best vodka is still at least 40% alcohol, and you can taste that. Sure, Grey Goose and some of the other super-premium vodkas are distilled and filtered within a micrometer of their proof, but straight vodka sure isn’t Kool-Aid. This is why a martini is a sipping drink. It should take you half an hour or more to finish one (of any decent size). And then you are left with the prize at the bottom of the glass. If you are fortunate enough to have ordered a Tregea then there, in the inverted peak of the conical martini glass, sits a candy-red globe of sugar known as a maraschino cherry.

Let’s be clear here: I know all about the manufacturing process of maraschino cherries and the fact that they bear as much resemblance to an actual cherry as Honeycomb cereal does to an actual honey comb, but there’s something about that luscious red sphere of food coloring, sucrose, and bleach that makes everything seem OK. Maybe it all started because my parents used to give us those Del Monte Fruit Cocktail things as dessert. They consisted of, as far as I can recall, thirteen peach slices, seven pear slices, three or four grape halves and a single half of a maraschino cherry, all soaking in sugar syrup. My sister and I would have contests about who could hold off eating their cherry half the longest. It was most definitely The Prize.

It’s even better when it’s been soaking in vodka for half an hour or so. Even if you slog through the worst martini (made with Absolut, for instance – something I would advise against), you will find, after eating the cherry, that you want another (martini, that is). In fact, this has been my downfall on many a night. Even after drinking my limit, the cherry at the end just cries for another. It’s like the old saying: One martini is just right, two is too many, three is nowhere near enough.

And so the cherry achieved a permanent place of honor in my martinis. I care not what waiters, waitresses or bartenders think of me when I order a vodka martini with a cherry. I’m secure in my masculinity. At least I’m not ordering a Zima.

How to make a Tregea

Ingredients:

• 6 shots of Grey Goose (or Hangar One) Vodka (or however much will fill your martini glass).
• 3-4 spritzes of dry vermouth (what do you mean you don’t have a vermouth spritzer?)
• 1 maraschino cherry

First, chill a martini glass in the freezer for at least ten minutes (If you don’t have that much time – and I can understand that – fill the martini glass with ice and cold water). While that is chilling, get the rest of your ingredients and tools together. Pour the vodka into the shaker, with ice. For the record, I never measure out my martinis. I just pour vodka into the shaker until it gets above the level of the ice. Spritz with vermouth (I tend to add more vermouth the lower grade of vodka I’m using). Shake well. Remove the martini glass from the freezer (or dump out the ice water) and adorn it with a cherry. Shake the shaker some more, for good measure, and strain it into the glass.

Much has been said about the addition of vermouth to a vodka martini. Yes, it’s all very funny to “whisper the word vermouth over the martini glass”, but honestly, it does make a difference — even just a trace amount. Some bartenders make one by pouring vermouth into the glass first, then dumping it out, leaving only the legs, and then pouring the shaken vodka over that. That can work, but in my home lab, the results turn out better when I shake the vermouth with the vodka over ice.

Note: Be sure to store your vodka at room temperature, not in the freezer. While frozen vodka may be good for other drinks, you need martini vodka to be at room temperature. This way, it melts just enough ice in the shaker to smooth out the cocktail. And when the drink is pretty much straight vodka, a subtle amount of water makes all the difference.

How to order a Tregea

First, you need to find a bar that serves Grey Goose or Hangar One. In a pinch, you could go with Ketel One, or (if you’ve had several drinks already) Skyy, or something similar. For heaven’s sake don’t ever order anything with Absolut in it. I’ve got nothing against Sweden, but this is some of the worst vodka ever made. The last time I had some was at a party at my friend Super Dave’s, approximately ten years ago. Even cut with a cup full of OJ, I could still taste the foulness of it. No, let us never speak of Absolut again.

On the subject of Belvedere and other non-Grey Goose super-premium vodkas, try them if you want, but many of them don’t make as good a martini to me. I think they’re quite good straight. But they’ve been designed to have more of a spicy finish versus the smoothness of the Goose, and that style of vodka doesn’t make a very good martini. But feel free to experiment.

Once you have found an appropriate bar – and it doesn’t have to be a high-class, yuppie place; some of the best Tregea’s I’ve found have been in real dives – you have two choices. You can go the easy way or the fun way.

The easy way is to ask for a Grey Goose Martini, straight up, extra dry, with a cherry. Vodka martinis should always be served dry and up. You would think professional bartenders would be aware of this, but every once in a while you catch one pouring an entire shot of vermouth into it and straining it into a tumbler full of ice. These people should have their ears zested. Suffice to say, unless you know the bar and/or the bartender, it’s important to specify the dryness (“dry”) and delivery (“straight up”, or just “up”). Speak clearly, and be prepared for The Reaction (see above).

The fun way is just to order a Tregea. Of course, the server in question will look at you as if you had sprouted paisley flamingoes from your nostrils and politely ask you what, specifically, is a Tregea. This is where you get to have your fun.

Adopt a tone of courteous condescension and act shocked — shocked! — that they are not familiar with the drink in question. You are now free to ad lib about the popularity, importance and history of the Tregea. Tell them that it’s the latest trendy drink from the East Coast/West Coast/Europe. Tell them it was the first cocktail used to celebrate the end of the Crimean War, I don’t care. Just make them feel dumb for not knowing it. Then tell them how to make it, in excruciating detail.

Now here’s the crucial part: You have to keep going back to this bar and ordering Tregeas, to train the whole staff. One waitress or bartender is not going to spread the word. But when the whole staff starts talking about this new drink that everyone’s ordering, then they’ll start suggesting it to other people, and critical mass will be achieved.

My goal is to be able to walk into any bar in the US and order a Tregea without explaining what it is. The only way this will happen is if you all start doing my bidding and drinking this damn drink. I know we can do it, people. I’ve almost got the staff at several Santa Cruz bars trained. I just wish they had less turnover – Grey Goose is not cheap. You can make it happen in your own town.

And hey, if you’re ever planning to be in the Santa Cruz area, drop me a line and I’ll take you out for a Tregea, or make you one myself. Now where did I put those cherries?

Mitch Hedberg: 2-24-69 to 3-30-05

This month will mark the 2 year passing of Mitch Hedberg’s death. Rather than delve on the details of his death, I’d rather introduce his work for some that may not have heard him before, or share in his art with those that already do.

Who is Mitch Hedberg

For anyone that may not know, Mitch Hedberg was a standup comedian – an extremely talented stand up comedian. A comic that was just short of reaching potential super-stardom at the time of his death. He had become a regular and recognizable guest on both David Letterman and Conan O’Brien. He had very well received “Comedy Central” presents episode as well as a new CD / DVD set currently in stores called “Mitch All Together.” He had just wrapped up a successful tour with Stephen Lynch and was again on the “Improv” franchise and college circuit. At any moment, the right movie roll, T.V. pilot, or cable special was bound to make its way into his hands. But this was, unfortunately, not meant to be. But what marks Mitch Hedberg did make on this path will last forever with his fans and bring new people into his realm of humor for years to come.

Mitch’s Style of Humor

Mitch’s style of humor was definitely unique. In fact, so unique that 1: putting in test does not do it justice, and 2: everyone I’ve ever heard repeating one of his jokes do not do them justice. Mitch’s standup was predominately jokes. 1, 2 or 3 line jokes that mostly involved an abstract and humorous take on an otherwise normal event. He has a few jokes that you might consider stories, but the jokes always stuck with you.

The best way to explain Mitch’s humor is to just let him do it him self. Here a montage of Mitch Hedberg himself doing what he did best:

The (in)famous Mitch Hedberg Montage:
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Mitch on Stage

Mitch rarely EVER appeared comfortable on stage. His eyes were closed longer than they were open, there were long, self deprecating pauses when a joke didn’t work, and he wasn’t shy about stopping a joke when it seemed to him it was going no where. But all of this just made him much more endearing to any fan. Stage Fright, a bit of self doubt, and nervousness – all things anyone can relate too.

But when the show worked, he was an enthusiastic, energetic, and extremely electric person to be at the center of attention. The better he got, the better of the audience got, and the better he got, etc.

There was nothing like seeing Mitch live. I’m happy there’s a fair amount of video and audio recordings that will forever circulate through pop culture, but I will always cherish the times I saw him live.

The Last time I saw Mitch, or “So long, and thanks for all the soap”.

Dec 11th, 2004 – one day after my birthday. That was my birthday present. Second row center tickets to the Mitch Hedberg / Stephen Lynch show at the Orlando Hard Rock Live. I didn’t care about Stephen Lynch – If you ever see him live once, you’ll never have to see him live again, the show hasn’t changed any of the times I’ve seen him – even when there was a 4 year break between shows. I was there to see Mitch, period – end of discussion. He was supposed to be the closing act, but after the warm up act, Mitch was introduced. He came out on stage holding some industrial sized 10 pack of bar soap that he swiped from god knows where. The first line of the act was this: “I gotta tell ya something. I’m fucked!” So, that pretty much set the tone for the show. He was, at the very least, drunk. I heard a few new jokes, but most of the show was split between jokes I heard before, and him just doing comic riffs about what was going on there on the stage, the soap, the spot light – a lot of really, really funny stuff in a format I hadn’t heard from him before. I laughed the whole time he was stage, while the couple beside me were just appalled that this “person” would be on tour with Steven Lynch. Well, guess what – as “fucked” as he was, he was still funnier, (and fresher) than Steven Lynch.

At the end of the show, he broke open the soap and starred throw the individual bars into the audience. One of which, I caught. Not so much as to get hands on a souvenir, more out of self preservation. In his state, Mitch was literally throwing the soap, not lobbing them gently. Had I not caught the soap, I would only have one eye right now.

We held on to the soap – Mitch was to appear at the Orlando Improv that following May. We were going to take in and ask for his autograph on the box. But of course, that never happened. The box of soap remains on a book shelf in our guest room:

Getting the news

Like much other Mitch Hedberg fans, I didn’t believe the new when I first heard about his death, then second, had a hard time confirming it.

This is the sequence of events leading to the confirmation of Mitch Hedberg’s death (time’s are approximate)

8:15am – My wife and are both now awake and getting ready for work. As every other day, we woke up to Howard Stern. I was in the master closet getting dressed; my wife was in the master bath brushing her hair. Howard Stern is on the radio in the master bedroom. I can hear Howard Stern’s voice, but I’m not paying attention to what he’s saying. Suddenly, my wife asks, “did he just say Mitch Hedberg’s dead?” “What?!” is my naturally response. “I think he just said ‘so and so is healthy, but Mitch Hedberg’s dead.’”, she replied.

8:20am – We rush to the computer and check CNN, MSNBC, MTV, VH1, Comedy Central, Mitchhedberg.net, every site we can think of that would report Mitch’s death and found nothing. We go to howardstern.com and find a small picture of Mitch with the statement “The Howard Stern show would like to sadly report the passing for Mitch Hedberg…”

9:00am – I arrive at work, my co-worker Susie immediately tells me that her husband had also heard about Mitch Hedberg’s death on another radio show separate from the Howard Stern show. I checked the usual new sources and well as search engines and still can’t find anything about his death.

10:00am – Blogs, bulletin boards, and fan site are starting to repeat this news, but still no confirmation from any main stream news source. Speculation begins that with the approaching April fools day, this may be an elaborate joke of some sort with the punch line to be revealed a couple of days.

10:30am – Mitch Hedberg.net is in accessible, bandwidth limits had been exceeded and the site is off-line.

11:50am – The Pioneer Press finally reports that Mitch Hedberg was found dead in a New Jersey hotel room – no details are given on the cause of death

3:15pm – CNN, MTV, and the Associated Press have all reported Mitch Hedberg’s death.

5:30pm – I drive home listening to “Strategic Grill Locations”.

6:45pm – Once home, I open a bottle Stone Brewery Ruination IPA and watch the entire Mitch All Together DVD.

Xanadu Demolished!

Home of the future now a thing of the past.

October 9 2005, 1:30 PM – after leaving the local art supply store a bag full of paints and brush cleaner, I wait patiently to join the traffic flow onto US Highway 192. As I take a look at the all too familiar local landscape, something catches my eye; Xanadu, the Home of the Future, is half gone!

Note: This article was originally written in Oct of 2005. Due to the popularity of this article in past version of this site, it has been added once again to this new version of NeoZAZ.com

If you’ve never ventured past the gates of the Disney compound during any of your stays in Central Florida, Xanadu was an architectural project built in the late 70’s as a tourist attraction (trying to capitalize on the tourism boom Walt and his imaginers rooted to America’s wang). It ran as a fully operational alternative to the $50 a day theme parks until 1996, when it was purchased by timeshare development juggernaught Star Island with the idea of it becoming a full time unique sales center. After the discovery of Central Florida’s largest concentration of water moccasins in its basement, that idea was quickly abandoned.

What Xanadu was, wasn’t and wanted to be.

Xanadu was the brain child of Bob Masters. The name was not taken from the 1980 Olivia Newtown-John hit, nor the 1980 Olivia Newtown-John Motion picture. Rather it was Bob Master’s Partner Tom Gussel, who choose the name of this project from the Mongol Emperor Kubla Kahn’s summer residence (as featured in Samuel Taylors Colerige’s Poem “Kubla Khan”). Bob Masters devised a building system using large inflatable balloons as a mold for a spray mixture of insulation and polyurethane to construct dome-shaped homes. In the early 1970’s, architect Roy Mason joined the Xanadu project, creating a clay concept that would quickly become what Xanadu is today (Err, I mean was yesterday).

Video of Xanadu
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Xanadu Video
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The Xanadu in Kissimmee Florida was the first of three Xanadu homes constructed at the cost of $300,000. This is nearly twice as much as the cost of the house I live in now. The computer I’m writing this article on is 37 times more powerful than all the computers put together that operated Xanadu. Two other Xanadu Homes of the Future were built in Gatlinburg TN, and Dells WI. Xanadu Kissimmee, FL outlived both of those locations.

The design of Xanadu is unique. Built a decade before the Empire Strikes Back was released, it bears an eerie resemblance to Yoda’s Dagobah retreat. Xanadu was a series of overlapping and connected dome pods, built by spraying polyurethane foam onto removable inflated balloon molds. The exterior of the structure was painted solid white, with a “space-age” communications spire at the back of the home, which broke the otherwise smooth flowing rooftop. The interior of the Home of the Future was a solid cream color in every room with pale green painted cement floors- a high-end cave dwelling, if you will. In the center of the house was its “great room”, the largest room in the structure, which featured a large fake tree that stretched from the floor to the highest peak of the ceiling. Other than the great room, the rest of the house consisted of cramped rooms and uncomfortably low ceilings. In nearly every room (including the bathroom) there was at least one (if not more) porthole window providing some natural light to the structure. Nice for the power bill, but not so easy to find blinds

No one actually lived in Xanadu- it was purly a tourist attraction. While the “revolutionary” design and construction of the building arguably drew the most visitors, it was the computerized lifestyle that was to be the centerpiece of Xanadu. No one was ever seen working in Xanadu either. The entire tour was led by a computerized host guiding you room by room via its monitors.

Xanadu was controlled by computers. More specifically; Commodores. Each feature of the house was at the mercy of the Commodore “Stop/Run” key. Major functions like the television controls, game console, stereo system, VCR, Automated Kitchen, water temperature, HVAC, communications spire, and security were all “Commodorized”.

The most complicated computerized feature within Xanadu was the Kitchen. The kitchen’s automated system could cook meals at a specific date and time, order food via the telephone when stock was low, or place an order to be retrieved from Xanadu’s computer monitored greenhouse. In addition to cooking, shopping, and farming, the Xanadu kitchen computer also managed the household calendar, records, and bookkeeping.

The master bedroom was the second most powerful computerized area in the home. From the comfort of the “resident’s” own bed, they could control minor functions of all the other rooms. Tiring chores such as turning off the family television, activating the cleaning system, adjusting the temperature, or starting the coffee and breakfast could be done right after they hit the snooze button.

The children’s bedroom featured “videotextured” windows – a concept seen decades later in Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Total Recall. The videotextured windows could generate computer generated landscapes from all over the world, or imaginary scenes from what ever that Commodore could handle.

The giant tree in the great room may have made visitors miss a couple of other key features the house possessed- the family had a choice of watching a small TV in the center structure of the circular couch, or switch to the interactive computer controlled video projector that displayed the entertainment directly behind them. Not the best design, but dammit, that tree needed to be there!

The family room featured not a single 65 inch Television, but rather a stack of four 27 inch televisions all with separate, and let’s not forget, computerized channel tuners. Officially, this was not a “stack of t.v.s”, but rather an “Electronic Hearth”.

The home spa featured an elaborate water entry system that flowed down a twisting path into the hot tub, which featured a stainless steel table. And for the futuristic health nut, the latest and greatest friction-based tension stationary bike sat ready and waiting.

Though it was a nice place to visit, not a whole lot of people ever admitted to wanting to living there. One of the biggest drawbacks to Xanadu was that the low ceilings and curved walls made it nearly impossible to add any personal touch to the house. While the adoption of computers into daily life is alive and well, the wiring and hardware control of Xanadu was faulty, experimental, and in constant need of attention. A cellar was built as part of Xanadu’s original design to accommodate this need, but with a high water table and torrential rain, the cellar often flooded and damaged equipment.

In 2001 when the sales center idea was officially abandoned, Xanadu become nothing more that refuge for Central Florida’s homeless – particularly during the 2004 Hurricane Season.

When it was built, the Home of the Future was a head of its time. Unfortunately, it never updated its concept or equipment. The exterior couldn’t stand the test of time and started to leak badly, causing it to be prone to mold problems early on in its life span. It didn’t survive long enough to become a retro-attraction. In 2004’s record breaking hurricane season, Hurricane Charlie took a heavy toll on Xanadu. overnight, it looked as though the building aged 30 years.

A Personal Note on Xanadu

I first visited central Florida in 1981 – One year after The Empire Strikes Back was released. Upon seeing Xanadu on the drive to Disney World, I was convinced that it was a Star Wars related attraction. I begged and pleaded to go back and see the “Yoda house”. My parents stalled me by saying “Let’s see Disney first”. Their tactics worked, as within 5 minutes of being at Disney World, I had totally forgotten about Xanadu.

In 1998, I moved to Orlando permanently. Shortly after checking out the area, I stumbled across Xanadu again and remembered what I had wanted to see 17 years prior. I went back the next day, only to find that it had closed two years prior.

Now, oddly enough, I have connections to Star Island, the owners and demolishers of Xanadu and the land it’s on, so I can not confirm nor deny that I’ve ever been in Xanadu. But I can honestly say that I will never be in Xanadu ever or again, because at the end of this week, it will be gone. Like it or hate it when it was around, it’s been a part of Central Florida’s culture for almost 3 decades. Its absence from the tourist row of 1-92 will be sorely missed. I only hope that Dippin’ Dots, the “Ice Cream of the Future”, does not see the same fate.

Gone but not forgotten

There is one last chance see something of Xanadu. Amazon.com still carries the book “Xanadu: The Computerized Home of Tomorrow and How It Can Be Yours Today!” – with its new and used sales program. At the time this article was written, there were only 8 copies currently available. They can be found here.

THE DEMOLITION OF XANADU

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