An Eye for an Eye

I have worn glasses and/or contacts since I was about 12 years old. As a teenager, I never felt the need to follow the instructions of medical practitioners like the eye doctor (or the orthodontist, but that is another long story), thinking they were just telling me things to make my life more difficult. I got in the habit of sleeping with my contacts in and just taking them out and throwing them away when they started to bother me. I felt this was a good system for several reasons; it was convenient for me and it saved us money because I used my contacts for much longer than the recommended two weeks.

(Nerd Alert)

In the past few years as I've dealt with various medical issues, I have come to better respect medical advice from professionals. However, I hadn't gotten out of the habit of sleeping with my contacts in. I even had one eye doctor tell me I was going to get ulcers on my cornea if I kept it up. Boy, did that give me a good laugh!

Well, now it seems that these years of thinking I am smarter than doctors has really come back to bite me. In May, I got an eye infection (considering my eye care history, you will understand when I say that I get eye infections all the time... and they're usually no big deal). I went to the doctor and got the standard eye drops and was told to use them for 7 days. I was pretty good and used them for 6 days, but then I wanted to wear my contacts on the 7th day, so I thought, "what difference is one day going to make?" Apparently it makes a difference. A few days later, the infection came back.

Not wanting to confess to my doctor that I didn't follow his instructions, I just took my contacts out and used the drops for the next 7 days. The infection cleared up and I was fine. Problem solved, right? Wrong. A few weeks went by and my eye started bothering me again. I took my contacts out and waited for the signs of infection to show up. They didn't. Instead, I just had redness, irritation, and an unusual sensitivity to light.

(Dramatization)

This lasted a couple of days then went away. I put my contacts back in and went on with life. A couple more weeks passed and it happened again, only a little worse this time. I figured that since it cleared up on its own the last time, it would again. I was right. But the problem kept coming back, each time getting a little more painful. Finally, I decided I had had enough and that I needed to get this checked out. The problem was that these flare-ups usually were happening on weekends, which makes seeing a doctor more complicated. I ended up going to an Urgent Care Clinic.

Enter Dr. Doofus (real name withheld). This doctor really embodies all the reasons why I used to think I was smarter than doctors. In his defense, he is not an eye doctor, and I should have known better than to trust a doctor who works Saturday afternoons at an urgent care clinic. Regardless, I was there and he asked a bunch of questions and looked stuff up on his computer. He decided I was having migraines. He put me on oxygen for 10 minutes and gave me a migraine pill to see if the symptoms would subside while I was in the office.

While we waited for those things to work their magic, I asked if he was going to look at my eye. He put numbing drops in it and took a look with an uncomfortably bright light (considering that I couldn't even stand to have the lights on in our house at this time). He declared that there appeared to be nothing wrong with my eye and asked how I was feeling. I said, "Fine. Do you think it was the numbing drops that did it?" He exclaimed, "CRAP! I ruined our experiment." Yes, those were his actual words. He sent me home with a recommendation that I see an ophthalmologist if it continued to bother me.

And so the saga continued...

This past weekend, on Saturday (of course), my eye started bothering me again. By Saturday night, I couldn't even stand watching The Incredible Hulk because (among other reasons) each flash of light sent pain shooting across my forehead. Sunday was worse. Monday morning, I started calling ophthalmologists. I finally found one who could see me on Tuesday afternoon.

This doctor (let's call him Dr. Deadpan) didn't talk much, but seemed much more knowledgeable than Dr. Doofus. He took a look at the eye and gave me his diagnosis: nummular keratitis. Well, either that or a recovering ulcer. Either would be treated the same way, so he sent me home with some antibiotic/steroid drops and told me to come back on Thursday.

He checked it again this morning and said it is improving, but I have to go back on Monday. When I asked Dr. Deadpan if this problem was going to go away, he replied, "with treatment." Sorry, Dr. Deadpan, but any Doofus could've told me that. Well... maybe not.

Roughin' It

Friday morning while Kristen was at work I took Eddie over to one of the new beach areas at Oquirrh Lake. He wasn't too crazy about the water, but loved playing in the sand.

When Kristen got home we packed up our stuff and once again headed to the family cabin. My sister Christie and her family joined us. While we had a good time, things didn't exactly go as planned—starting with our sleeping accommodations. You see, we received a new tent for Christmas a few years ago, but we have never used it. Kristen and I aren't the most outdoorsy folk, but we have both felt the urge to go camping lately. We figured the cabin would be the ideal place for Eddie's (and the tent's) inaugural camping trip because we could always retreat inside if things weren't going well.

But we didn't even get that far. Not long after we got the tent all set up a giant thunderstorm hit. I quickly pulled the tent under the deck so it wouldn't get too muddy, so our camping was cut short before it even really started. At least now we know how to set the tent up when the camping bug hits us again 3 years from now. Then, even after sleeping in a warm, dry bed, Eddie woke up Saturday morning with a fever and runny nose.

We headed over to the reservoir for a picnic lunch, and so Russ, Josh, and Neil could go fishing. Josh made the only catch of the day. I'm not even going to make fun of how small it was since that is one more fish than I have ever caught in my lifetime.

I won't go into too much detail as to why Neil is fishing without any pants on, except that he now has a new catchphrase: "I peed on that rock!"

My 4th of July post caught a little bit of flack over Kristen and I not appearing in any of the photos. We aim to please, so here are some shots of each of us at our picnic spot with Eddie.

We had also planned to go to a Salt Lake Bee's game on Saturday night, but since Eddie was sick we spent the evening at home instead. Then I woke up sick on Sunday morning. One thing that did go according to plan were the gourmet s'mores we had after dinner on Friday night. Additional details are forthcoming.

Scents for Saints

Earlier this year my boss gave me an interesting new project to work on. A local retailer asked Salt City to develop some concepts for a line of scented candles inspired by LDS church history. Now, I'm the kind of person that rolls his eyes at the glut of LDS product promos airing immediately before and after every general conference broadcast, so this presented me with an interesting challenge. How to draw on church-themed imagery without blatantly exploiting spiritual things for commercial gain?

After brainstorming a few different brand ideas, I settled on "Red Brick Store," which was the name of the general store in Nauvoo. The store was established by Joseph Smith primarily for the purpose of selling consumer goods, so it felt like a natural fit.

Logo Concept

Packaging Concept

As with most "interesting" projects I am given, I recently learned Red Brick Store isn't going to see the light of day. Although my ideas were well-received, ultimately another direction was required.

My boss and I also came up with a list of like-minded fragrance names which I won't reveal at this time because they are still under consideration. Here's a few that didn't make the cut though: Ox in the Mire, Pioneer Sweat, Tar & Feathers.

Chickenfoot and the GrooGrux King

Chickenfoot

With the current members of Van Halen content to tour the reunion circuit and repackage the same batch of hits every few years, I am forced to settle for substitutes when it comes to my old school rock addiction. Enter the self-titled debut from supergroup Chickenfoot. This album is filled with fist-pumping arena rockers, plus a lighter-waving power ballad or two, without even a hint of irony. Guitar virtuoso Joe Satriani provides the monstrous riffs and scorching solos. On the bass we have Michael Anthony, who also brings along the back up vocals that were such an indispensable part of the classic Van Halen sound. Red Hot Chili Peppers' drummer Chad Smith keeps each song churning with propulsive rhythm. And at the mike is Sammy Hagar, who unfortunately is also the group's weak link.

Here the Red Rocker writes the same juvenile lyrics he has made a living on his whole career, extolling the virtues of fast cars, pretty girls, and occasionally, riding in a fast car with a pretty girl. Sammy, you are 61 years old—your schtick is starting to get a little creepy. Maybe it's time to broaden your lyrical horizons a bit? Still, this is a good soundtrack for cruising around town on a warm summer night. You might even want to roll the windows down. With any luck the ensuing road noise will drown out the words.

Dave Matthews Band
Big Whiskey and the Groogrux King

After their previous album (Stand Up) was a decidedly mixed bag, it has taken Dave Matthews Band four long years to release a follow-up. The band has put out a new album every 2-3 years like clockwork for most of their career, so such a lengthy recording drought is not something I am accustomed to from them. Was Big Whiskey worth the wait? Find out after the image!

Things start out on a solemn note with "Grux," a mellow LeRoi Moore saxophone ditty recorded shortly before he died last year. Based on this opener, you might think you're in for an introspective tribute, but this moment of mourning is short-lived. The theme of the album (minutely rendered in the hand drawn cover art) is a New Orleans-style funeral parade—more celebratory than somber. The party really gets started with "Shake Me Like a Monkey," an in-your-face tune that wastes little time restoring the swagger that has largely been missing from the band's more recent material. In regards to the main character of this song, always articulate frontman Dave Matthews elaborates, "The guy’s got a top hat on, a big cane, and he’s slapping people. He’s singing this song with his big platform clogs on, silver pants, and a long, black coat. He’s out of his mind—and in this song, he should be."

From here, the album effortlessly bounces from laid back ("Lying in the Hands of God") to energetic ("Why I Am") and heavily groovelicious ("Seven"). DMB will always be known more for their live performances than their work in the studio, but there is an undeniable flow to this batch of songs. So, in answer to my previous question, yes, Big Whiskey was worth the wait. As if my use of the phrase "heavily groovelicious" hadn't already tipped you off.

100 Years 100 Movies: Born to be Wilder

Previously: Simpsons Savant

In discovering that two of our favorite movies from the list so far, Sunset Boulevard and Some Like it Hot, were both helmed by golden age director Billy Wilder, I have sought out his other two entries for our next pairing.

29. Double Indemnity (1944)

What exactly is film noir? Look no further than Double Indemnity for a classic example. The use of light and shadow, the antihero with a perpetual cigarette in hand, the femme fatale, the snappy, hard-boiled dialogue—it's all here. There's also a certain moral ambiguity inherent in the genre as you are often compelled to root for the villains. In this case it's lowly insurance salesman Walter Neff (Fred MacMurray) and bored housewife, Phyllis Dietrichson (Barbara Stanwyck, looking positively hideous in a cheap wig and bad lipstick). Sparks fly when this devious duo meets, and soon they are plotting to do away with Dietrichson's husband and make off with the insurance money. Almost everything goes as planned, but wily insurance investigator Barton Keyes (Edward G. Robinson) is hot on their tail. Film noir is famous for telling unsavory stories of crime and murder, but is never all that interested in the offense that has been committed. Here the crime takes place early on, so there is still half a movie left for the screws to get turned on the two leads. Will they or won't they get away with it? We already know they don't thanks to the flashback voice-over narration (which Wilder would again utilize in Sunset Boulevard), but the suspense is in the details.

Walter Neff: Suddenly it came over me that everything would go wrong... I couldn't hear my own footsteps. It was the walk of a dead man.

80. The Apartment (1960)

Everything I read about The Apartment beforehand labeled it as a comedy. And since it was a reunion of Wilder and Jack Lemmon a year after Some Like It Hot, I assumed it would be filled with more of the same screwball antics. But this wasn't the case. Not that this is a bad thing, mind you. Quite simply, The Apartment defies clear cut labels. Lemmon stars as C.C. "Bud" Baxter, a low level employee at a large corporation who has found an express route up the corporate ladder—by loaning out his nearby apartment to philandering executives. Baxter is content to juggle his life around the whims of the big bosses until he meets Fran Kubelik (Shirley MacLaine), a spunky elevator operator at his building. However, things start to get complicated when Baxter learns that Fran is involved in an affair with one of the executives (Fred MacMurray). The moments of humor, while not as frequent as Some Like it Hot, are derived out of everyday situations, and are frequently offset by genuine human drama. The vast, dehumanizing office sets expertly satirize the corporate world, while the soundtrack and black & white cinematography imbue the film with just the right dose of melancholy.

Margie MacDougall: Night like this, it sorta spooks you, walking into an empty apartment.
C.C. Baxter: I said I had no family... I didn't say I had an empty apartment.

After having now seen Wilder's four most renowned films, I'm officially a fan. As a German immigrant, he offered an outsider's perspective on American culture. His films possess a sharp, cynical wit, and avoid excessive sentimentality. In other words, they're right down my alley. I look forward to checking out more of his work in the future.

Lemmon and Wilder, the perfect match.

Ten Things...

...I Have Learned From '90s Movies

As I have reiterated many times on this blog, I am a child of the '80s. However, it was the '90s where I really came of age. As such, it is time I gave this less flashy, but equally memorable decade its due.

10. There is always room to catch a droplet of cascading forehead sweat in your palm—no matter how close your face was to the floor to begin with. (Mission: Impossible)




9. "Stupid is as stupid does." Wait, what does that even mean? (Forrest Gump)

8. Want to undermine period authenticity? Try recruiting Kevin "I'm not even going to attempt an accent" Costner to be your star, and Bryan "technically I was only 9 in the summer of '69" Adams to pen a sappy love theme. (Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves)

7. People with prosthetic limbs are inherently evil. (The Fugitive)

6. I don't care how many other movies he has been in, Christopher McDonald is Shooter McGavin. (Happy Gilmore)





5. Though it is questionable in the first place to name an original composition after a hot female student who happens to be amorously infatuated with you, under no circumstances should you then leave it out where your wife will see it. (Mr. Holland's Opus)

4. Your storm chasing team drives matching black vans? Sorry, but you're only in it for the money, not the science. (Twister)





3. "Life finds a way." (Jurassic Park)

2. It's not that Tom Cruise can't handle the truth, it's that we can't handle the truth about Tom Cruise. (A Few Good Men)





1. There is no crisis a computer can't be the cause of, or the solution to. (Too many to list)

Crazy Talk

For all my pontificating about good pizza, we are still guilty of grabbing the occasional $5 Hot-N-Ready from Little Caesars. We thought we had finally broken free of their greasy grasp—until a new "Pizza! Pizza!" location opened not far from our house last summer. The clincher is that this location has dropped all pretenses and included a drive-thru window. So not only is there a cheap, mediocre pizza beckoning us every time we are having trouble deciding on dinner, we don't even have to get out of the car to pick it up.

Inexpensive convenience is one thing, but the real reason I have had trouble shaking this dirty habit is crazy bread. I have little doubt that I could pound down an entire order of these garlic butter-soaked sticks by myself if Kristen and Eddie weren't willing to carry their weight, so to speak.

While poking around for breadstick recipes online yesterday afternoon, I happened upon the "top secret" formula for crazy bread. I was rather surprised how simple it was. I'm not sure what I was expecting—it's not like crazy bread is the pinnacle of culinary arts or anything.



• Pizza dough
• 2 tbsp butter
• 1/2 tsp garlic salt
• Parmesan cheese

I just happened to have some homemade pizza dough in the fridge, but most recipes I looked at said to use a 10 oz. tube of Pillsbury pizza dough. I rolled my dough out into an oval shape, cut it into strips, then let them rise for about 45 minutes.

Pre-heat oven to 450 F. Place the strips on a lightly greased cookie sheet and bake for 6-8 minutes. While the dough is baking, melt the butter and add the garlic salt, stirring until dissolved. Remove the baked strips from the oven and brush with garlic butter. Sprinkle with Parmesan cheese. Serve with dipping sauce if desired.

They turned out remarkably similar to the real thing. The mixture of butter, garlic, and parmesan was unmistakable. The bread itself came out soft and fluffy, but not overly chewy like crazy bread is known to become after sitting under a heat lamp for too long. Maybe now I can finally kick this habit for good.

Books I Read This Week

I like to think that I'm pretty good about reading a wide variety of books. However, I will admit that sometimes I love reading and re-reading the same few books again and again. I do the same thing with music and movies. This drives Dave crazy. These familiar things are like comfort food for me... just less fattening. Jane Austen's novels are definitely "comfort books." In the past month or so, I have been on a Jane Austen binge. However, since I know there is at least one loyal reader of our blog who will leave rude comments about Jane Austen, I won't bore you with my thoughts on the five Austen novels I read this last month. Instead, I will just tell you about one... and two other books I read in the past week.

Emma // Jane Austen

I can now proudly say that I have read all six of Jane Austen's novels. I own five of them and had read all but Emma until this last week. It's not that I haven't gotten around to it until now. I have tried to read it before... twice. For some reason, Austen's "comic masterpiece" could never hold my attention. This week, though, I looked at it as a challenge, so I kept plugging along and finally finished it.

I have had a hard time coming up with a reason why I could love all of Austen's other books and not care for this one at all. I paid particular attention this time around to why I was have a hard time getting through it. And I figured out what it was. Some of the characters are ridiculously irritating -- specifically Miss Bates and Mrs. Elton. Every time they started talking, I just wanted to skim over that part and move on. I know they're supposed to be irritating, but that doesn't make those parts any easier to read. Unfortunately for Jane Austen, she did so well with it that I'm not sure that I'll ever read this book again.

That being said, I would recommend Jane Austen to anyone who hasn't read her novels yet. But start with Persuasion or Sense and Sensibility. Don't start with Emma. You'll just get irritated.

"A man would always wish to give a woman a better home than the one he takes her from; and he who can do it, where there is no doubt of her regard, must, I think, be the happiest of mortals."

Ender's Game // Orson Scott Card

After finishing the five aforementioned novels, I still hadn't satisfied my current urge to read. In desperation, I turned to our bookshelf to see what there was that I had not yet read. That's how I stumbled upon Ender's Game. Dave has read this book and recommended it. And so it began.

I started reading it around noon on Sunday. I finished reading it around noon the following day. Yes, it is that good. If you're not familiar with the story, here's a brief summary with (hopefully) no spoilers:

Ender's Game is science fiction -- a story based in a futuristic world where Earth has been threatened by alien life forms called "buggers." In their desperation to defeat the buggers, the government on Earth starts recruiting children to train for the war. One such kid is Ender. The book follows young Ender through the years as he trains as a soldier and the aftermath of his training.

It was an interesting read and I would recommend it to anyone who isn't averse to sci-fi.

"Human beings are free except when humanity needs them. Maybe humanity needs you. To do something. Maybe humanity needs me—to find out what you're good for. We might both do despicable things, Ender, but if humankind survives, then we were good tools."

The Thirteenth Tale // Diane Setterfield

When I finished up Ender's Game on Monday, I didn't know what to do with myself. I perused my never-ending "List of Books to Read" and, with the help of the county library website, figured out which ones I could get immediately. That is how I picked out The Thirteenth Tale. This novel was written just a few years ago and I don't even know where I heard of it. However, once I started reading it, I couldn't put it down.

The book tells the story of a woman who is commissioned to write the biography of an extremely famous fiction writer before she dies. This author, Vida Winter, has spent her entire life fabricating elaborate lies about her past, but now she is finally ready to tell the truth. The book is narrated by Margaret (the biographer) and the contemporary scenes are interwoven with the story of Vida's childhood. As Vida tells her story, Margaret begins to uncover more secrets about Vida's life, so in the end, she finally gets the truth.

The story is suspenseful and mysterious, and the end has a great twist. I loved it.

"Everybody has a story. It's like families. You might not know who they are, might have lost them, but they exist all the same. You might drift apart or you might turn your back on them, but you can't say you haven't got them. Same goes for stories."

Caped Crusader Cinema: Batman (1966)

When I put Caped Crusader Cinema on hiatus last summer, I honestly didn't think it would take me close to a year to reignite the fire. Mostly I am doing this for my friend Scott, who always asks me about more Batman posts every time the subject of blogging comes up. I figured if I finally obliged him, maybe he would forgive me for dedicating an entire post to can openers. Ah, who am I kidding—he still harasses me about taking him to see Batman & Robin and that was 12 years ago. Anyway, if you want a refresher here are links to all my previous Batman movie posts:

• Batman (1989) 7.01.08
• Batman Returns (1992) 7.11.08
• Batman Forever (1995) 7.20.08
• Batman & Robin (1997) 7.29.08
• Batman Begins (2005) 8.12.08
• The Dark Knight (2008) 8.22.08

In Bat-rospect

Around the time that Tim Burton's Batman was debuting in theaters, episodes of the '60s TV show were making a well-timed reappearance in syndication. As I explained in my inaugural installment of Caped Crusader Cinema, I didn't actually see the Burton movie until it hit home video, so the TV show really served as my introduction to the character.


Most evenings after school my brother Rob and I would help fire up the wood burning stove in the basement, lay on the floor with some pillows, and tune in to the same bat-channel at the same bat-time. We would instantly perk up whenever the words "Frank Gorshin as The Riddler" appeared during the opening credits. Cesar Romero's not-so-secretly mustached Joker and Vincent Price's eggs-quisite Egghead were also personal favorites. Much like professional wrestling (another post for another time), we joked that the show was silly and lame, but that didn't stop us from watching it.

Batman: The Movie (which was originally made between the first and second seasons of the TV show) also aired around the same time. We made an attempt to record it, but the blank tape we used didn't have enough space left, so we only got the first 45 minutes. Fortunately, we were able to capture the entirety of the infamous shark repellent scene which went on to become a beloved family joke.

Critical Bat-nalysis

A few years had passed when I once again popped in my tape containing the first half of Batman: The Movie. A little older and a shade wiser, something in my brain clicked as I read the following acknowledgment during the opening credits:

We wish to express our gratitude to the enemies of crime and crusaders against crime throughout the world for their inspirational example.

To them, and to lovers of adventure, lovers of pure escapism, lovers of unadulterated entertainment, lovers of the ridiculous and the bizarre, to funlovers everywhere — this picture is respectfully dedicated.

If we have overlooked any sizable group of lovers, we apologize.

It finally struck me that the absurdity on display was completely and utterly intentional. This was a whole new world of humor for me. No longer was "camp" just something you did with the boy scouts. To borrow a cliché from church speakers everywhere, Webster's Dictionary defines camp as "something so outrageously artificial, exaggerated, inappropriate, or out-of-date as to be considered amusing, often fusing elements of high and popular culture." Yup, that pretty much sums up Batman in the '60s.

There are a handful of scenes from Batman: The Movie that everyone seems to remember. There's the aforementioned run-in with an exploding shark at sea ("See? C for Catwoman!"), countered with an impressive array of bat oceanic repellents. There's the Dynamic Duo's last minute salvation from an oncoming torpedo thanks to the nobility of the almost-human porpoise. There's the incident at the docks when street musicians, nuns, young lovers, and baby ducklings all conspire to teach Batman that "some days you just can't get rid of a bomb." And last but not least, there's the plummeting batcopter's fortuitous landing at a Foam Rubber Wholesalers Convention, causing even Batman to cringe at the odds. These gags represent the film at its most razor sharp, gleefully skewering the conventions of comic books and superheroes.



But a modest collection of memorable moments does not a great movie make. I'd say there is enough good material here to make up what would have been the ultimate two-part episode, but as a 105 minute movie it feels stretched a bit thin. Truthfully, there is little to distinguish Batman: The Movie from its companion TV show, other than a slightly bigger budget and the four most popular villains teaming up.

Speaking of the so-called "United Underworld," I've always wondered what these supervillains hope to accomplish when they say they want to "take over the world." What sorts of policies are they planning to instigate? I'm willing to listen. Maybe force everyone to use flying umbrellas as transportation? Or further encourage the sale of pre-atomic war surplus submarines to those who don't leave their full address? How about reassigning all polaris missiles to the important task of skywriting riddles? Wait, I've got it—they want to institute corporal punishment that involves launching the guilty into the unforgiving arms of exploding sea creatures. Yeah, that must be it.

There is certainly a time and place for campiness, but it is typically best taken in small doses. This isn't a film you want to watch regularly (unless your name is Calvin and you are two years old). In the end, there is simply no substitute for the dark, brooding version of the Caped Crusader. The '60s TV show and movie did untold damage to Batman's reputation, eventually taking over 20 years to be fixed... only to get screwed up again by bat nipples... then righted once more. Seriously, when is Christopher Nolan going to officially sign on for his third bat film?

Grade: C+

Holiday Weekend

We spent our 4th of July weekend up at the Barton family cabin. Sharing time with us was my sister Christie, my brother Rob, and their respective families. Above all, the cabin is just a great place to relax. While I always bring things to do, I typically just end up lounging around, helping polish off multiple batches of Muddy Buddies, and taking a few photos of course.

Josh, Brynlee, Landon, and Neil anxiously bang on the table while awaiting dinner Friday night. Clearly Neil has caught hold of an infectious groove.

Eddie really bonded with Ashlee this trip, climbing all over her and giving her kisses. I don't think she minded the attention though.

I'm not sure what it is about sliding glass doors, but it seems they always have to be opening and closing when the handle is within the grasp of little hands. That glass is never pretty by the end of a stay.

Among the toys residing at the cabin is a baby doll that is a little too life-like. It has fooled many a passing adult who has spotted it out of the corner of their eye lying facedown in some obscure place.

Here's a closeup portrait of said doll which I just had to do in black & white. Look out Kirsten Dunst, you have some competition in the dead, dead eyes department.

Now that we are in black & white, here are a few nature shots taken around the cabin.

Special Guest Blogger: Hannah Montana

The Dave & Kristen Show is proud to present our very first guest blogger. She's young, she's talented, she's popular with the kiddies, she's none other than Miss Hannah Montana! Pay close attention all you wanna be "rock" stars out there as she will be providing you with some important pointers. Take it away, Hannah!

Wow, thanks for the great tips! And move over, Led Zeppelin!

Hannah Montana presents Look Like a Rock Star: Fashion Tips from Hannah Montana was brought to you by Disney Fruit Boost Blend.