The Many Faces Of Phil Hendricks Thank Grant Miller Media.

I got 95 hits yesterday.
It's all thanks to Grant Miller Media and you.
Thanks for coming by and checking out the site.

And thanks to Grant for being such a good sport.

As you can see, I was NOT the captian of my football team.

I do think I win the award for largest glasses worn during the eighties.

The All Seeing Eye Of Grant Miller Media Shines Upon Me.

My old friend Grant Miller and I put our differences aside for an email interview. If you don't already read Grant Miller Media, you probably should.

And now, to the interview.






You and I went to junior high and high school together. I remember the first time we met. What do you remember of our first encounter?



I have no memory of our first encounter. I'd love to hear what you remember. The earliest memory I have of Grant Miller is winning a bet we had made on the NCAA Championship in 1985. I think it was for a dollar. You took Goergetown, I took Villanova. Cha-Ching!!! Patrick Ewing earned all 75 cents. I recall that, lots of White Sox talk and a general admiration for Mick O'Dwyers' High-tops.

Does God love Elmhurst more than all other suburbs? More than Zion? More than Medinah? More than Saint Charles? More than Saint John, Indiana?





Yes. Clearly and irrefutably, He does.

But the title of my blog is not meant to imply that. What I mean is, He lives here. It's literally His Own suburb. He has a great fixed mortgage, making improvements to the house. He should really make a bundle when He decides to sell. Jesus, He's just got The One kid, stopped by the other day looking for the dentists office. Funny story that...



You're expecting another child. What's the dumbest parenting advice you've ever heard?







I'm not sure I have gotten any dumb advice. I rarely solicit advice. Some of the more ridiculous things I've seen or heard: I knew a woman convinced she could potty train her 13 month-old. I've heard mother's tell their kids to get better at something or the other kids would make fun of them at school. A mother once told me, that her doctor had told her, it was good that her son refused to share. He was expressing himself confidently, and shouldn't be discouraged. She's currently got said son in acupuncture to permanently cure his allergies.



When you pluck your nose hairs do your eyes tear automatically? Does that mean you're crying?

I use a nose and ear hair trimmer. Rather painless, unless you let the battery run down. IF I did? IF my eyes DID? I believe that would constitute crying.










Why should people read your blog?









I'm not sure they should.

Ten Years After Tag.

10 years ago------------------------------------

1.) How old were you? 23

2.) Where did you go to school? I was still an undergrad at I.S.U.

3) Where did you work? I think I was working at a men clothing store in a mall in Bloomington, Normal. J.Riggin's? Maybe? Those years were hard on my memory.

4.) Where did you live? A charming place called, The Bungalows. A four unit apartment complex dominated by I.S.U. theatre majors, in Normal, Illinois.

5) Where did you hang out? A bar called The Gallery. A coffee shop called The Koffee Kup. My porch.

6.) Did you wear glasses? If I wanted to live.

7.) Who were your best friends? Shelton, Dave, Tim, Quinn, Brendan, etc...

8.) Did you play any sports? Do theatre dept. softball games count?

9.) How many piercings did you have? Zero.

10.) What car did you drive? No car at this time.

11.) Had you been to a real party yet? Oh yeah, you don't get to your sixth year going to class.

12.) Had your heart broken? Yeah, but who's hadn't.

13.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter: Single/bitter.

----------------5 years ago----------------------

1.) How old were you? 28

2.) Where did you go to school? I was taking an acting class.

3.) Where did you work? A truly terrible place called, The Transcription Company, in Burbank, Ca. We created scripts from unscripted interviews, transferred hard copies of scripts to computer, among other things. If you are familiar with the play, The Adding Machine, it was kinda like that.

4.) Where did you live? In a scummy apartment complex, just north of Hollywood Blvd, on Whitley, Hollywood, California. Not good times.

5.) Where did you hang out? A dive bar called Fuel on Wilcox in Hollywood, or on Hollywood Blvd. begging for change.

6.) Did you wear glasses? See answer to Part 1, #6.

7.) Who were your best friends? See answer to Part 1, #7.

8.) Who was your crush? My pregnant fiance.

9.) How many tattoos did you have? One. My mother's family crest.

10.) How many piercings did you have? Zero

11.) What car did you drive? 1990 Oldsmobile.

12.) Had you had your heart broken? No, life had made it quite unbreakable.

13.) Single/Taken/Married/Divorced/Bitter? Engaged.

----------------------NOW------------------------

1.) How old are you? 33

2.) Where do you work? Jury's Bar in Chicago.

3.) Where do you live? Elmhurst, Illinois.

4.) Who are your best friends? See part 1, #7

5.) Where do you hang out? At home with the kids.

6.) Do you wear glasses? Yes, for the last time, I have to.

7.) Who is your crush? Just my kids.

8.) How many tattoos? One, see part 2, #9.

9.) What kind of car do you drive? 1999 Dodge Intrepid.

10.) Has your heart been broken? Not so much.

11.)Single/Taken/Married/Bitter? Married

Here's to the sunny slopes of long ago. Part 2.

My buddy Ashley passed away on Halloween, 2001.
It was sudden, shocking and profoundly sad.

Ashley had magic in him. He was a brilliant light.

Driving home from his funeral, in a car full of sad friends, silence fell over us. Behind the wheel I asked aloud, "So, where do you think Ashley is now?" Someone said, "Everywhere," to all our agreement.

Moments later, the sky above showed a brilliant light.
It looked as if God had taken a paintbrush to the night sky.

Green and orange swam above dripping towards the horizon.
Lighting our sad faces which now smiled.
Aurora Borealis confirming our conclusions.

A toast!

To Ashley Hugen and the sunny slopes of long ago!

* A thanks to Lisa for the pic of Ashley, she also remembers Ashley today.

John Effin' Madden Football '07: You gotta Save Your Game.

Dirty's comments in my Maddenday posting got me thinking...

And then I stopped thinking and played the new John Madden Football '07...

Then the kids got up from their nap...

As they were jumping on the bed. Pushing... Shoving... Tackling... I thought I saw into their future.

The things the would accomplish. The friends they would share them with.

Their games of John Madden Football '19 30th Anniversary Edition.

I know I saw my past... Would they remember this moment? Would I?

Patrick the younger came and set his two-year-old hands on my knees. Reaching for the PS2 controller in my lap.

"Hold on Buddy, gotta save my game."

When moments like this come along, you gotta save your game.

I welcome anyone else's Madden Football memories.

John Effin' Madden Football '07: My John Madden Football Career.

Time: 1994

Place: Our college house on Flora Way.

To Much Time On The Clock.

My buddy Brendan and I are playing Madden for maybe the millionth time that year. The game is very high scoring and we each take the lead back and forth. I'm sure we are playing the '93 version. A solid version we would stick with for a number of years, if memory serves.

Brendan often loses. Badly. That he might win this game is a big deal. For him and for me. He scores with about 7 seconds left in the game.

I don't think he said a word.

We never talked much trash in our house. We just thought it was disrespectful to treat your friend that way.

Usually.

We took it waaaay to seriously, plus there was always an Alpha Male when it came to these games. If you were the best at Madden you probably weren't the best at NHL. Unless you wanted to eat it the next time around keep your mouth shut. That's just how we played. We also never punted the ball (pussy move.) Or kicked field goals for the win (cheap pussy ass move.)

We were crazy and, I might add, flunking out of college.

So I have the ball, after returning the kickoff. Maybe 5 seconds left, Brendan up by 4.

"I'm going to score right now and you can't stop me."

I can't remember why I said it. I was probably pissed off about something in my overly dramatic college life. I was flunking out after all.

I was the Niners and I knew I could. Just get the time to let Jerry Rice run by the corner. Easy money. Been doing it all game.

Just to much time on the clock.

I did. I scored.

Brendan silently put his controller down and went up stairs.

I felt like a dick later. I had insulted him for no good reason. I was a jerk.

From then on the phrase, "To much time on the clock", was our "Dead man walking." Just something the player, knowing he was destined to lose, would say, in preparation for the loss.