I'm a Spalding Gray in a Rick Dees world.
Say hi to your mother for me, okay?
I'm still on blog hiatus for January. But not joke hiatus!
A Catholic priest, a Boy Scout leader and a lawyer take some boys out on an adventure trip. On the flight over, there is engine trouble and the plane is about to go down.
"We have a problem", says the pilot. "There are only three parachutes!"
The Boy Scout leader suggests they give them to the boys.
"Screw the boys," shouts the lawyer.
"Is there time?" asks the priest.
Okay, I did declare a blog-free January. I am not blogging right now. As Springsteen once said of being seen by fans in a seedy north Jersey nudie bar, "I told them: Bruce is not here. Bruce is at home, doing good deeds." It's like that. Sometime in 2008, my cousin Paul (a known eater of boogers - don't be grossed out, he only eats his own) saw a guy speak at an event and sent me a link to his blog, thinking I'd enjoy it as he assessed this fellow and I think very much alike, and I'd appreciate that he's a marvelous writer. I quickly learned these to be true. Ian Williams' blogging runs a gamut similar to mine, from fiery political rants to passionate missives inspired by our favorite sports teams, sappy items about family and friends, and honest stuff about entertainment, technology, performance art, or whatever is currently on the brain. You really should check out and bookmark his blog: xtcian
So, as I am not blogging right now, I offer up a recent entry by Ian which made me laugh, out loud, while alone. Is there a better acid test for humor? And Yes, I was granted permission to use this. Here's a snippet from the entry, titled on golden blonde:
...long before movies were stored as binary forms on distant hard drives, they used to be kept on clunky plastic VHS tapes that could be played in your VCR. Each tape came with a sticky label, where you could scrawl the title of the video inside. So I'd like to present to you a special treat from me and The Budster™ circa 1991:
The Top Ten Handwritten Labels to Give Your VHS Videotapes So Nobody Will Watch Them and Find Out They're Actually Porn
Christmas music comes around once a year, but some of these songs are just too good to exist within the confines of the season. Here's my All-Time Top Five.
This one is the best ever. Period. Not my opinion. Fact.
1. Darlene Love - "Christmas (Baby Please Come Home)"
In no order, these are my other four:
2. Run DMC - "Christmas In Hollis"
3. Elvis Presley - "Santa's Back in Town"
4. Eartha Kitt - "Santa Baby"
5. Chuck Berry - "Merry Christmas Baby" *
Sure these are Christmas songs. Above that, they're great songs. They work all year round. As I've lately wondered just why people are noticeably nicer to each other in December, it occurs to me that it can't be Christmas 12 months a year. We couldn't afford the electric bills. But we can play the tunes. If every day could be like Christmas...
Jessica's grandma is a gem. When I first met her on xmas of '05, just as we were actually meeting, someone pointed me out and told her who I was. She proceeded to say, "Oh, this is Jessica's friend? Poor guy." That's #1 of 2 among Grandma Denny's Greatest Hits. I was not present for the second item, but it came this Turkey Day, when Jessica brought our friend Aimee down to the PDX. The exchange allegedly went something like this:
Grandma: "Hi, where are you from?"
Aimee: "Philadelphia."
Grandma: "I'm sorry. You seem like a nice girl."
XMAS EVE
Jessica and I worked on the 24th and eventually got down to Portland's Ace Hotel around 9pm. She took care of things all around. The room, an in-room picnic of fancy cheeses, crackers, meats, jelly, fruit, cider, sparkling water... this is our low-key xmas eve chill-out. The calm before the storm. And it was perfect. The room was huge, the picnic was more than even I and my 800-lb. gorilla appetite could handle. The room had a turntable. Uncle Eddie sent 
me, among many other gifts, a Fools record. We listened to "Psycho Chicken." The ruptured blood vessel in my left nostril sprung a leak and I bled most of the night. That was awesome! Okay, it wasn't. But all the other stuff? That was awesome.
KRIMMITH!
Morning - Jessica's mom Vicki lays out a fantastic breakfast spread with scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, flapjacks, her dessert roll, fresh-squeezed OJ, and coffee. Everything is made in that kitchen and everything is second to none. Then we exchange gifts among the immediate family, where Vicki and Jessica's dad Phil give all the kids (at 38, I'm a kid) a stocking with a handful of items ranging from Reese's chocolate eggs to iTunes gift cards.
Noon - gift card exchange at grandma's house with the cousins, aunts and uncles, featuring such delightful snacks as the old family recipe shrimp mold and the traditional champagne-strawberry cocktail. The gift card exchange is fun. Each couple brings a $25 gift card for anything and wraps it, then draws a number. In numerical order, each couple selects a card. If you don't like what you got, and/or you wish to trade up, you can force a trade onto anyone with their previously selected card. We found a Hooters card at the 7-11 and successfully navigated the system to make sure that cousin Joseph, an active Marine stationed at Camp Pendleton (San Diego) got it - we knew he'd act like he didn't want it, but we figure a 21 year-old Marine either really wants $25 credit at Hooters or he can use it as currency within the barracks in some fashion.
Afternoon - xmas dinner is held at the very cozy and charming Oregon City home of Jessica's sister Sara and her husband Saint Rob. (Sara is expecting in July '10 and Espiritu Santi Roberto is my homeboy). I don't know how they get this done, given they're both at the morning and noon stops and advance prep can only getcha so close, but by 3pm they've cranked out a spread fit for a room full of royalty. Vicki (xmas MVP) helps a whole lot in the kitchen, but still, there are only so many pairs of hands and so forth and this production just impresses the almighty christmas out of me. This year's culinary cornucopia includes a ham, scalloped potatoes, another potato casserole dish of diced taters topped with a corn flake crust, a whipped cream and fruit salad, cookies, deviled eggs (most underrated holiday food item). I made a loaf of my xmas dessert bread with sliced apples, walnuts, chocolate chips, cinnamon and nutmeg, and as good as that loaf is, it wouldn't even get honorable mention at this banquet. There was all kinds of beer and soda. Dinner wound down just in time for the Chargers-Titans pre-game show.
For some reason, I've always loved everything about Christmas except Christmas Day itself. By the 25th, I'm normally just kind of tired. Jessica has been joking that I don't celebrate Christmas, but the birth of Christmas music. Perhaps that's part of the story - I do love holiday music, and there's an endless well of it to discover so a lifelong hobby awaits. I love the lights and decor, the ceremonial fashion in which every city and town rolls out its stuff. I even enjoy observing how people who treat each other like assholes all year long find ways to be incredibly nice and appreciative during the second half of December. The behavioral psychology of that is simply fascinating. Anyway, as it turned out, this was one awesome December 25. I'm already looking forward to next year's festivities.
THE DAY AFTER
Sara already had lunch plans. Jessica, Rob and I went to breakfast in Gladstone, a place we ate at once. The breakfast there is fit for a lumberjack. Jessica got a French toast dish. Rob and I each got the chicken fried steak, which is our mutual center of breakfast gravity. I thought it was just shy of outstanding, but then, I've never met a chicken fried steak I didn't like. Rob's review: "Average at best." I initially considered asking Santi Roberto if he was f***ing kidding me. Instead, I chose to see it as another avenue to pursue with my man. As time will pass, Roberto y Enrico shall find the greatest chicken fried steak. Oh yes. We will.
I was debating with an outspoken Colts fan last weekend. The subject: which is the best football team of the decade? Any topic can be debated, any case can be made, but even with the decade's final season unfinished I'm surprised there's much at question here. Let's examine the elements of the matter, shall we?
REGULAR SEASON RECORD
The Pats began this year with the best cumulative regular season record (102-42), just one game better than the Colts and eight games better than the Steelers. Let's agree that these three teams are the only ones in the conversation. In 2007, the Patriots registered the first NFL undefeated regular season since the '72 Dolphins. The Colts just may match that feat this year, and they've been 12-0 three times. Anyway, this season the Colts are 14-0 so far, the Pats are 9-5 (both are in first place in their divisions) and the Steelers are having a tough year at 7-7 (they were 6-2 before a 5-game slide). So as it stands with three weeks remaining, the Colts have a better cumulative regular season record by four games over a ten-year period, an average of being less than one game better per year during the regular season. This gives the Colts a very slight edge in this category.
POST-SEASON SUCCESS
Colts: one Super Bowl appearance, won it; 7-7 in the post-season.
Steelers: two Super Bowl appearances, won both; 10-4 in the post-season.
Patriots: four Super Bowl appearance, won three; 14-3 in the post-season.
Clear advantage, Patriots. The Steelers are not far behind, and if they make a run and win this year's Super Bowl (unlikely, but stranger things have happened), a good case can be made for them, but while they'd have as many rings as the Pats, New England would still finish better in every other category (more later). The Colts have been pretty sorry in the post-season, when you consider that despite their one Super Bowl season they've been one-and-done five times, including a 41-0 waxing at the hands of the Jets in '02, getting bounced by the 8-8 Chargers last year and getting knocked out twice at home. But for one incredible season, the Colts have laid a bunch of eggs in January all decade long.
PRO BOWLERS
Colts: 38
Steelers: 42
Patriots: 26
Making the Pro Bowl is an individual honor, so less important in a team discussion. I examined this primarily because I believe the guy I argued with last weekend was blurring his Manning vs. Brady case with the matter of which is the better team of the decade. It seemed to me that Manning, great as he is - and make no mistake about it, I think he's at least one of the greatest quarterbacks to ever play the game, mind-blowing on so many levels and watching him call audibles and compete is downright fun - he's always surrounded by Pro Bowlers who certainly help make him better. This decade, Manning (8 Pro Bowls) has enjoyed the company of 21 offensive Pro Bowl teammates to Brady's 11 (4 Pro Bowls for Tom Terrific). Nine times, Manning has had a Pro Bowl wide receiver to throw to; Brady has enjoyed that luxury only three times. Four times, Manning has had a Pro Bowl running back to take the pressure off the passing game and keep defenses honest; Brady has had that balance only once. Manning has had a Pro Bowl tight end and six offensive linemen; Brady, no tight ends and four linemen. With the Colts enjoying such a huge advantage in the Pro Bowl player category, in the evaluation of which has been the better TEAM, I say the team which has realized the far more prolific post-season and championship success with far fewer Pro Bowl selections has shown us a far more impressive decade-long campaign. The Pats have only had more Pro Bowl players than the Colts twice in these past nine years. The year the Pats won their first Super Bowl, guess how many Pro Bowlers were on the team? Zero. So, it is clear as the day is long, the Patriots have been better than the sum of their parts, achieving more with less, and thus the better team.
note: in the Manning vs. Brady debate, I liken my fancy to that of the Montana vs. Young debate of old. For a season, give me Peyton Manning; for one game with all the marbles on the line, give me Brady.
HEAD TO HEAD:
The Patriots are 8-6 vs. the Colts (2-1 in the playoffs) and 4-2 vs. the Steelers (2-0 in the playoffs). Advantage, Patriots.
CONCLUSION
If the Colts run the table during the next few weeks, they'll finish the decade with the best regular season record but not the best playoff record and not the best overall record when you combine the two. They'll have two Super Bowl appearances to the Patriots' four, two championship to the Patriots' three, and head-to-head the Pats will still have the edge both in regular season and playoff contests. And the Pats will have done this with far less Pro Bowl players. If the Steelers bust out of their current funk, make the playoffs and eventually win the Super Bowl, they'll have as many titles as the Pats but not as many Super Bowl appearances, and the Pats will still have a better record in the regular season, playoff, and head-to-head categories - also with far less Pro Bowlers. No matter what happens in the remainder of this season and post-season, the New England Patriots are the best football team of this decade.
Each year, instead of Christmas cards, I send music. The 2-disc set comprises one CD of holiday tunes which range from the traditional to the obscure, featuring genres from blues and jazz to rock and novelty; and a disc of music released during the current year which reflects my varied tastes in music and what I've been exposed to lately. It's quite a project. It generally consumes my free time for most of November and the first half of December. I always use a week of vacation time in December's second week just for the assembly, packaging and mailing of this thing. With 165 pieces, this involves burning 330 discs, creating and printing the artwork, applying the artwork to the CD cases, labeling the discs with stamps, getting it all into the mail (100 or so are mailed and the rest are passed out locally). It's a more personal kind of xmas card, and it makes me stay current with good music, which is out there - you just have to look for it. Or, listen.
Santa's Little Helpers:
Jessica advises me on the artwork, proof-reads the copy, helps find and select images, and does the layout. Before she came along, I was using the cookie-cutter layout stuff you get at Office Max. She has made the presentation and packaging more tasteful, artistically endearing, the most labor-intensive one-man arts & crafts project this side of anywhere. Charlie hooked me up with some new xmas metal for the holiday disc. Pete ran the current-year disc through the high-speed burner at work to cut my CD burning time in half (he helped a brother out last year, too). Rosalie has a cool stamp which she let me use on the current-year disc. Geoff and Lorien are great photographers who let me peruse hundreds of their cool shots and use whichever one I chose. (in exchange, I'm making them a batch of meatballs and a loaf of my xmas dessert bread - a small price to pay for a photographic image which serves as the face of something on which I spend hundreds of hours, send to my friends and family, and put my name on). These generous people make the final product that much more special. Good friends tend to have that kind of impact on a fella.
The Lightning Round:
Skipping the part of the story which entails buying music throughout the year and ultimately spending November and early December with headphones virtually glued to my melon... (I must be a joy to live with this time of year!) Once I've got it narrowed down to about two hours of music, it gets tough. A CD can hold 80 minutes of music. Using round but realistic numbers, if I buy 50 albums during the year, chances are ten of them are turkeys. Of the remaining 40, some have a song that inspires consideration, many have a couple, some have several. The first round of selection normally puts about 4 hours of music into consideration. From there, it's simply a matter of listening to all the tunes, repeatedly, to let some float to the top while others prove to have less staying power. I don't posture this mix to be a "Best Of" for the year - only people who make a living as music critics and get exposed to so much more are qualified for that - but this disc, for me, personifies two things: [1] putting a time stamp on which music excited me the most while it was current, and [2] exposing my friends and family to music I'd like them to hear. This sometimes means that music I love does not get included. Using this year as an example, Bob Dylan released a GREAT album, possibly the best I've heard in '09, but as I'm trying to reduce a couple hours of great music to a collection of tunes that can fit on a single disc, the process begs the question, "does anyone really need me to hip them to Bob Dylan?" And so at some point, it becomes a numbers game. It's down to the wire, three-four-five songs (depending on length) must be cut, but all which remain standing absolutely need to be heard! As an ambassador of turning folks on to music that's new to them, I feel compelled to simply cut the songs by artists who've previously appeared more often on my year-end mix. This year, that meant cutting Dylan, Wilco, and my good friend Michael McDermott, each of whom I love, put out great albums this year, but each has appeared twice. The result? A disc of 21 songs, 19 of which are by artists making their debut and 2 of which come from artists who've appeared only once in the past (Wolfmother and the Fruit Bats).
The Songs:
1. The Moondoggies - "Save My Soul/Changing"
A Seattle band which will probably experience a national break-out in 2010 (you heard it here first, folks). The keys player (Caleb, whose work on this song is simply delightful) also plays in a great gospel band fronted by my old friend Gareth. Their only album to date was released independently in '08 but this recording comes from a 2009 performance at Seattle's great community radio station, KEXP, which was released on the station's annual release of the year's in-studios.
2. The Big Pink - "Dominos"
The debut album by a couple guys from London, this was a recommendation from a music message board. Wow. How awesome? Very awesome. My head bobs, my fists wave, my body sways.
3. Basement Jaxx - "Raindrops"
I guest-co-hosted at DePaul University's radio station in 2003 on a great show called The Clampdown, hosted by a wunderkind named Ben Welsh. That night, he exposed me to a few great artists, one of whom was this British progressive house duo. This song is my unofficial summer anthem of 2009.
4. M. Ward feat. Zooey Deschanel - "Never Had Nobody Like You"
Singer-songwriter out of Portland, Oregon who has earned some high praise among critics and other artists. The entire album is fantastic, tastefully recorded with a minimal production which stays out of the way and lets the songs breath and speak for themselves.
5. Monsters of Folk - "The Right Place"
A supergroup made of M. Ward with Conor Oberst and Mike Mogis of Bright Eyes, and Jim James of My Morning Jacket. A fun, organic album with soaring three-part harmonies. The sound recalls something like the Byrds and Buffalo Springfield with a classic rock influence, but it's fresh and new and I dig it.
6. Vince Mira - "Cold Hearted Woman"
Known as "Juanny Cash" in the Seattle area, we've been catching this teenager's shows since early '08 as he plays a regular gig at the delightful Can Can restaurant and cabaret in the Pike Place Market, owned by our friend Chris who is also Vince's manager. He started as a Johnny Cash tribute act and has been writing his own stuff. This recording was produced by Johnny and June's only son, John Carter Cash, at Johnny's cabin.
7. The Blakes - "Little Bit About You"
Exciting Seattle band, a young and energetic British Invasion-inspired sound. Their debut was among the last cut from the final mix of the '07 edition of this mix. Their '09 follow-up is at least as good.
8. Girls - "Bid Bad Mean Motherfucker"
California garage grime from this band's interesting debut. Girls is a duo comprised of a guy who was born to parents of a cult called the Children of God who moved him around the world and made him sing in the cult choir before he split and moved to San Francisco where he met a liberal punk rock kid from Santa Cruz. They formed this band. Their music is good.
9. Bob Log III - "Shake A Little, Wiggle It, and Jiggle It Too"
Dude is weird in all the good ways. Saw him live this year. He wears a shiny gold jump suit and a motorcycle helmet with dark visor and a telephone receiver jury-rigged into the visor as a microphone. No band behind him, he sits on a stool, plays guitar and uses his feet to play drums and cranks out some edgy Delta blues. He also drinks Scotch throughout the show and conducts "band meetings" in which he turns his back to the crowd and says to his imaginary bandmates, "So how do you think it's going so far? I think they f***in' love us, man. I especially think they really dug that last guitar solo I did. Yeah. Let's rock 'em some more!" When this magnificent bastard comes to your town, don't miss it.
10. The Dead Weather - "I Cut Like A Buffalo"
The latest Jack White project (he of White Stripes of Raconteurs fame). Here, he teams up with vocalist and queen of dirty rock awesomeness Alison Mosshart of the Kills (who appeared on last year's edition), guitarist Dean Fertita from Queens of the Stone Age (who appeared on the '02 edition), and with White playing drums his rhythm section battery is fleshed out with bassist Jack Lawrence from the Greenhornes and the Raconteurs. Rock, hard hitting yet not afraid to carve out room for some space. Quirky but also rhythmic. I dig it.
11. Electric Six - "Egyptian Cowboy"
I was a few months late to the party on this Detroit band's rocktastic single "Gay Bar" (2003) so it missed the boat on that year's edition. They put out a great record in '07 and were among the last cut that year. In '09, I was committed to making sure this band made the cut. A few songs from the album were worthy, and I chose this one mostly because it represents their pleasantly tongue-in-cheek sophomoric demeanor and punchy rock dynamic.
12. Tinted Windows - "Kind of a Girl"
Another super group! This power pop bowl of sugar reminds me of all the great stuff coming out of Chicago in the 90s, from Material Issue to Loud Lucy, Tripl3fastaction to Cassius Clay and so much in between. Tayler Hanson on vocals, James Iha from the Smashing Pumpkins on guitar, Adam Schlesinger from Fountains of Wayne on bass, and on the drums... Mr. Bun E. Carlos! If you don't know who he is, then I'm pretty sure we can't talk until you've seen this. Click on it now. Now. I said NOW.
13. Julian Casablancas - "Out of the Blue"
We know Julian as the frontman of the Strokes. They're on a break. He made a solo album. It's good, in a Strokes-go-new-wave kinda way. This song is so catchy, it should be illegal. I also have a soft spot for the Strokes because in the hundreds of shows I've worked and had significant direct contact with rock stars, these guys were just as nice, humble and in touch with their fans as they come.
14. Wolfmother - "Cosmic Egg"
One of only two artists who've previously appeared on the year-end mix, these young Aussie lads can't be denied any more than their guitars - so heavy, so fuzzy - and the foot-stompin' hookery. I describe as Black Sabbath minus the 'ludes.
15. Mt. St. Helens Vietnam Band - "Albatross, Albatross, Albatross"
This Seattle band's debut is simply awesome. Over the summer, they staged a show and played at the base of Mt. St. Helen. (middle of nowhere) + (eruption-could-happen-at-any-time) = exciting. Little is known of this band. The drummer is 13. His older brother told him if he learned to play, they could form a band together. The kid learned and here they are.
16. Mark Mallman - "White Leather Days"
I can't figure this guy out. He's from Milwaukee, WI and has been based out of Minneapolis for a few years. He was in a few different bands and has been doing the solo thing. Jessica saw him live and was blown away. I listened to the CD and it did nothing for me. I joked that maybe he's a superhero who solves problems at malls, like some guy has a beef with the Sbarro and Mallman brings some crumbled sausage to make everything copacetic. I cast it aside. Last month, at Jessica's urging, I revisited, and as fate would have it...
17. Peaches - "Trick Or Treat"
Proceed with caution. I've loved this one-woman electronic band since '03 when I was playing her every night on my Chicago radio show but thought she'd scare you too much. This year, she is yours. I love this chick.
18. Andrew Bird - "Oh No"
I've been enjoying Andrew's music since '96 when he was sitting in as a violin prodigy with Squirrel Nut Zippers and started putting out his own stuff, which has ranged from hot jazz with his band Bowl of Fire to quirky folk-pop and everything in between. The album he released this year is so great, it makes you feel warm and airy, and I recommend it for a summer afternoon on the porch with fresh lemonade and a rocking chair.
19. The Cave Singers - "I Don't Mind"
This Seattle collective began when members of the great indie rock band Pretty Girls Make Graves formed a folk outfit with members of other bands (Hint Hint, Cobra High) to record some tastefully-arranged stuff that recalls a blend of the Dylan-Cash sessions and the better part of the Fleetwood Mac catalog.
20. Fruit Bats - "Being On Your Own"
If no other band charts my personal moves... this Chicago band migrated to Seattle around the same time I did, around the same time they signed to the legendary Sub Pop label.
21. Bon Iver - "Blood Bank"
This Wisconsin native's 2008 debut was hailed by critics and fans of the folk-pop movement. I knew the title track from the EP he released in January '09 would be a perfect closer for this year's mix the moment I heard it back in the first month of the year.
Honorable Mention:
Among the artists whose 2009 music was good and considered for this mix but for one reason or another, not included in the final cut: Rocco DeLuca & the Burden, Rodrigo y Gabriela, Felix Da Housecat, Grizzly Bear, Prince, Moderat, Jarvis Cocker, Regina Spektor, Franz Ferdinand, Blitzen Trapper, Pearl Jam, Bob Dylan, Michael McDermott, Wilco, Bruce Springsteen, Manic Street Preachers, Jay Reatard, Cam'ron, Tortoise, Lady Gaga, Jay-Z, Rye Rye, Eminem, the Black Eyed Peas, Kid Cudi, Pitbull, Sollilaquists of Sound, Khingz.
Like I'm gonna weigh in with one of my typically lengthy missives about Tiger Woods... okay, fine. My favorite Tiger joke so far:
Tiger Woods owns many cars, and now he has a hole in one.
It's pretty simple. He's a rich celebrity who cheated on his wife, apparently quite a bit, and apparently without covering his tracks as we'd figure a Stanford alum would. Verdict: he's a scumbag, and not particularly bright in the role. However he and his Swedish model trophy wife and their teams of lawyers wind up slicing the pie, they'll all continue to be rich. I kind of feel bad for the kids, but they'll always be rich as well. A billion dollars goes a long way. My heart bleeds profusely for these people. Actually... No, it doesn't. Most marriages end and most that don't live in a dysfunctional state; most homes end up broken and most that don't endure in a dysfunctional state. People deal with it and move on - and 99.9% of time, they do so with far less means than the Woods "family." Methinks these guys and gals will be just fine. As a good friend once told me:
Money can't buy happiness, but it can rent it for life.
disclaimer: the suspect has not been found, charged, tried, or convicted of anything regarding yesterday's incident.
If you haven't seen this story, you probably do not read the newspaper or watch the news. Yesterday, a guy named Maurice Clemmons walked into a Tacoma coffee shop where four police officers were having a cup, working on their laptops and preparing for their day shift at 8:15am. The baristas welcomed him, he opened his coat to expose his weapon, and then he turned and gunned down all four officers. They all died, they all have families, and there is an all-out man-hunt for this psycho in Pierce and King Counties. Last night, he was seen just a couple miles from where Jessica and I live.
If you'd like to know about the four slain officers, click here.
The Maurice Clemmons Criminal Portfolio: Arkansas.
Five prior felony convictions. 1990, sentenced to 60 years for burglary and theft; at that time, he was already serving 48 years and was then facing up to 95 years. (In a courtroom during this era of his illustrious career, he threw a lock he'd stolen from a jail cell at a bailiff, but he missed and hit his mother). Nine years ago, Arkansas governor Mike Huckabee granted him clemency, commuting his lengthy prison sentence over the protests of virtually everyone who isn't named Mike Huckabee. A year later, he was jailed for violating parole after (allegedly) committing aggravated robbery and assault but in an apparent "mistake" was not served an arrest warrant and was released three years later. At some point, he moved to Tacoma. Perhaps the smell of pulp drew him in. (big paper mill there, it creates "the aroma of Tacoma").
The Mike Huckabee Pardon and Commutation Portfolio:
The former 2008 Presidential Candidate issued 1,033 pardons and commutations during ten years as governor - twice as many as the state's three previous governors combined and an average of above one every four days. In one high-profile case, convicted (and castrated) rapist Wayne DuMond was released at Huckabee's urging - he later suffocated a mother of three in Mississippi where he was sentenced to life in prison (he died there in '05).
The Maurice Clemmons Criminal Portfolio: Washington.
Eight prior felony convictions. In May, police were called when he was throwing rocks, damaging five cars and three houses. When a deputy knocked on the door, he grabbed the deputy by the wrist, wrestled with him and punched him in the face, resulting in a black eye. The rampage apparently arose from his wife's "newly discovered child." She declined to file domestic abuse charges, though the 
sheriff's report includes his sister's quotes describing the things he'd been talking about: he is and should be called Jesus, the world is coming to an end, the Secret Service is coming to get him because he wrote a letter to the president, she suspected him of having a mental breakdown, he was expecting the president to visit and confirm that he is the Messiah in the flesh... later in May, he was arrested for raping a 12 year-old relative amidst a battery of charges including two counts of assault and five counts of malicious mischief. A week ago, after six months in jail for those eight felonies which could carry a life sentence, he was released from custody after posting a $15g bond from a place called Jail Sucks Bail Bonds. He was given a GPS bracelet. Yesterday morning, he tore it off and left it at home. You know the rest.
Law Enforcement: Doing Its Job
Justice System: Fatally Dysfunctional
Let's take a moment to differentiate between Law Enforcement and the Justice System. In this case, as it seems is so often the case, Enforcement has done a pretty admirable job. They catch bad guys and bring them in. This bad guy has been caught and brought in many times. The System, in contrast, is muddled by lawyers, social workers and shrinks who take the simple matter of "is this guy a threat to innocent people leading their lives?" and turn it into an ugly cornucopia of pragmatically irrelevant issues which too often treat the guilty and dangerous party as a victim while ignoring all the tangible elements of the case against allowing the person to remain part of the civilian population.
To be fair, sometimes the guilty and dangerous party is, in fact, a victim. Of other things - circumstances, abuse, prior events - which have nothing to do with the practical matter of "is this guy a threat to innocent people leading their lives?" If a violent and dangerous criminal suffers from mental or psychological issues, or was a victim of prior abuse, get him the help he needs. But for the love of whatever it is you may believe in, keep him confined and off the street.
Throughout this guy's life, Law Enforcement has done its job. He does bad things, the police find him, deal with him and take him in. As in any occupation, there are good and bad cops, people have good and bad days and so forth. In this particularly sensitive and important line of work, some should be relieved of their duty and most should be compensated more for the risks they take every time they punch in. In the final analysis, a cop's job is more simple but more difficult: find someone and bring him in. I know what cops make and go through and I wouldn't do it for twice their pay and conditions.
In contrast, the Justice System clearly has fallen short throughout, both in Arkansas and in Washington, repeatedly screwing up and letting him go, which has only resulted in making future victims out of innocent people. People screw up at work, we all do. But the ongoing trend in this case which, let's face it, is not an isolated trend, shows that the system is simply insensitive to the true needs of the convicted and even more tragically insensitive to the future victims of the civilian population. Maurice Clemmons was not a guy who skipped bail on a jay-walking charge and later did some damage. His felony convictions are a double-digit number and they're ALL centered in rape and violence. And they kept letting him go. A governor pardons convicts more often than his assistant does his laundry, someone in Arkansas forgets to fill out a form, two states either have no reciprocity or they ignore the priors when setting bail... I am unimpressed and a bunch of people are dead.
Washington's justice system has certainly dropped the ball here. Bigtime. The judge who set his bail should be tested for mental defects. However...
Nobody screwed the pooch in greater magnitude than Mike Huckabee, with a sorry assist from the paper-pushers in the Arkansas justice system. As if I could be less a fan of his. His stances on:
Immigration - 700-mile militarily-policed border fence, no birthright citizenship
Iraq - he's for it
Gitmo - for it
Gun Control - against it; supports concealed carriage of firearms
Death Penalty - for it
Darwinian Theory of Evolution - doesn't believe in it
Choice - against it, even early term
Same-Sex Marriage - against it, including civil unions and "don't ask, don't tell", even now when many GOPers are reversing their stance on social issues because they 
(my .02) realize their long-standing positions make them look like the unconscionable bunch of fucking assholes they are. The money quote:
"I feel homosexuality is an aberrant, unnatural, and sinful lifestyle, and we now know it can pose a dangerous public health risk." - he said this in 2007, in a questionnaire for The Associated Press, I swear. right here, dude.
Only last year, this asshole was the Republican Party's Number Two Guy. Then, John "the angry wee man" McCain got the nod and he was passed over for Veep when the GOP tapped Sarah Six Pack on the shoulder. (that had to hurt, though I can't say I care). I can only take this asshole seriously as a function of acknowledging what little of the damage which has ensued as a result of him, well, being ass asshole has become public knowledge.
If there is a silver lining in the dung-stained cloud of his existence, though, it is that his presidential hopes for 2012 are officially over. Don't worry about his livelihood, though. He's got a show on Fox "News."
nsfw
Ben Franklin wanted our national bird to be the turkey, not the eagle. Clearly, we all know the eagle won out, most likely for its majestic demeanor and untouchable stature. The turkey is a rather industrious bird, which captured the fancy of Mr. Franklin. In a letter to his daughter in 1784, he wrote,
I am, on this acccount, not displeas'd that the Figure is not known as a Bald Eagle, but looks more like a Turk'y. For in truth, the Turk'y is in comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America.
The only thing better than the numbers adding up to 193% is that the pieces of pie aren't even sized according to the numbers. I guess the brain trust at Fox skipped the day in school where they taught the bar graph as the appropriate graphic for comparing the magnitude of three independent questions such as,
1. If Huckabee ran for president, would you support him?
2. If Palin ran for president, would you support her?
3. If Romney ran for president, would you support him?
Speaking of giggling at right-wing loonies, nothing warms my heart more than the re-emergence of the Second Amendment freak-out. Only when the GOP is at its most desperate do we see their lowest common denominator losing its shared mind over the notion that someone might restrict their ability to obtain guns and ammo. Settle down, Gomers of the U.S.A., despite the loosely-packaged fear being peddled by the snake-oil salesmen at FNC and the NRA, there has been exactly zero interest in removing your ability to blow someone's head off. But thanks for the freak-out, because it only reflects your desperation over losing grip on other public policy issues.
I have no desire to own a gun because I'm not willing to invest the time to keep my shooting chops up to avoid falling into the majority of gun owners who find themselves on the business end of things when their gun is used in their own home - but I personally think people should have the right to bear arms, as long as the right comes with responsibility. I also like the Seattle mayor's initiative to ban guns in public parks and recreation areas. It's funny that the Second Amendment nuts are declaring those public areas as their own, or property of the taxpayers, when in reality the city owns those properties and as any property owner the city can prohibit firearms there. I also can't think of any good reason why one needs to be armed at the playground or at the pool. Mostly, when I see the gun-clinging Right use the fear of "they're trying to take our guns away!" it's just comical. Anyone who wants to have a gun can register for a license and buy one and I'd be shocked to hell if that ever went away.
I've read some right-wing missives - you know the ones which tend to use 18-point fonts and butcher all the grammatical majesty of our mother tongue? - bitching about cases in which an unlicensed gun owner uses an unregistered gun to shoot someone who trespasses on his property, and goes to jail for it. Even when you've explained to these wackadoos that by requiring gun owners to get a license and register their firearms, people are only being asked to do the same as they do when obtaining a drivers license and registering a car - even less, because gun owners are not required to pass a test in which they must display the ability to operate the thing, as motor vehicle operators are, if even only once as a teenager. There is no waiting period for a drivers license or a car like there is for a gun license and a gun, but then, the primary functions of a car travel and commuting while the primary functions of a gun is to shooting people and animals for the purpose of injury and murder.
I also ask if the world would be a better place if everybody had a gun or if nobody had one. I think the answer is fairly obvious. Gun-lovers cloak their stance on their desire to protect their family and property, but unless they're a trained shooter who spends time at the range monthly, the stats say the gun is more likely to be used on them.
It's sad and unfortunate, how important owning guns is to so many people. The ability to blow someone away is one that millions of people feel they need to have.
"A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed."
For fans of last-minute sports thrillers, this weekend has been one of the best in recent memory. College football had the double-overtime Oregon-Arizona football game in which the Ducks of Oregon won in a hostile environment in the desert and will next play Oregon State in the annual Civil War game which this year means the right to play in the Rose Bowl. The Granddaddy Of 'em All. The NFL gave us a major upset when the 2-7 Raiders scored ten points in the final minute to beat the previously 7-2 Bengals 20-17, and of the couple overtime games today we saw the 2-7 Kansas City Chiefs (one of the league's worst teams) beat the defending Super Bowl champion Pittsburgh Steelers. The Chiefs game warmed my heart. KC is not a major market, and the team hasn't enjoyed any notable success since winning the Super Bowl in '69 (they're since 3-11 in the playoffs and have suffered losing seasons in 9 of the last 11 years). Yet, their fans come out en mass and shout their heads off. Arrowhead Stadium (What? An NFL stadium not named after a consumer product?) was packed, everyone was decked out in red,
and those KC fans were louder than hell. In overtime, the Chiefs' rookie kicker, who was traditionally and ceremoniously named "Mr. Irrelevant" for being the last collegiate player chosen in this year's NFL draft, won the game for his team with a walk-off field goal.
Marvelous as these stories may be, as I sat on the couch with the DirecTV NFL Sunday Ticket and the Lox Special (onion bagel, cream cheese, lox, egg fried over hard, tomato and red onion - I get one every Sunday from the Bagel Deli and it... is... deeee-lightful), a greater sporting event happened just three miles from my sedentary posterior. The Major League Soccer championship. Like the NFL's Super Bowl, the MLS hosts its title match at a pre-determined stadium. The heavily-favored Los Angeles Galaxy, complete with David Beckham and Landon Donovan, played Real Salt Lake which barely made the playoffs as a fourth seed from the East. Regulation time ended in a 1-1 tie. Now here's why this is so great. Let's examine how overtime is handled in different sports.
OVERTIME:
NFL - the worst. It begins with a coin-flip, one team gets the ball on a regular kick-off and the first team to score wins the game. For a league whose policies emphasize fairness and parity to a degree which more than resembles Socialism (note: I like that), the overtime structure here is far from fair. All kinds of but-why-can't and but-what-if scenarios leave plenty to be desired here.
College Football - better, but... - each team gets the ball for one possession at the 25 yard line. Tragic flaw: the offense can get a first down along the way. I prefer something along the lines of "sudden death." Why not give each team the ball at the ten for one set of downs?
Looking for some bad-ass overtime? Soccer. If the game ends in a tie, as tonight's title game did, each team selects five of its players, each of whom gets one penalty-shot style of scoring a goal. In the end, whichever team's five players has scored the most, wins. If they tie, they go to another overtime. The tension is delightful. Jessica was at this game. I watched at home. For all the marbles:
Any questions?
Where to begin... KISS. What a show. Jessica is applying pressure for me to blog about it, but I am very tired. She's nice, so I will oblige.
Before the show, we ran into some like-minded folks at Floyd's:
HELLO, SEATTLE! YOU WANT THE BEST, YOU GOT THE BEST! THE HOTTEST BAND IN THE WORLD... KISS!
They opened with "Deuce" and went right into "Strutter" which is one of the few KISS songs Jessica never knew she knew. (at the show, she realized just how much of their music she knows). On to the show:
1. Deuce
2. Strutter
3. Let Me Go, Rock 'N' Roll
4. Hotter Than Hell
5. Shock Me
6. Calling Dr. Love
7. Modern Day Delilah
8. Cold Gin
9. Do You Love Me
10. Say Yeah
Say hello to 37 seconds of the ten-minute drum solo!
11. 100,000 Years
Then...
Gene Simmons breathes fire and spits blood:
... and is raised to the rafters to sing:
12. I Love It Loud
13. Black Diamond
14. Rock And Roll All Nite
Encore:
15. Shout It Out Loud
16. Lick It Up / Won't Get Fooled Again
- Paul Stanley flies to the back of floor:
17. Love Gun
18. Detroit Rock City
Rock.
I guess I haven't posted here in a couple weeks. Reason: I haven't had anything to say. I can't be full of piss and vinegar ALL the time. I'd get pretty tired. Also, each year, for all of November and the first half of December, I find myself entirely consumed with current-year music. If you're reading this, you're probably familiar with the annual 2-disc set, "A Maloney Xmas" which comprises one disc of eclectic holiday music and one disc of music which was released during the current year. The holiday disc is almost an afterthought, as I have a pretty deep vault of holiday obscura from which to pull. As for the current music... I tend to buy music throughout the course of the year and as the pattern goes, I listen to a handful of new releases in February and March, then I get busy, not too busy to keep buying music (the guys and gals at Easy Street Records and Sonic Boom Records must think I make a lot more money than I do, when the truth is I simply spend an irrationally high portion of my income after bills on music). Hey, some guys blow it on lap dances, other guys are into drugs, some have gambling problems, some are into pricey collectibles and memorabilia, or cars. For me, it's music. When Jessica sees me come home with a bag of discs and records and a $115 receipt, she shakes her head but she knows it could be a whole lot worse. Anyway, what always happens is, it becomes Halloween, and after assembling the scary music to play out the window to give our block a spooky soundtrack for the kids as they trick-or-treat, my jones for making mix tapes is reactivated. I end up making a couple mixes for friends, and then turn on my current-year music tunnel vision for a few weeks. There are a couple dozen still-wrapped discs on my dresser, representing many of the purchases made throughout the year. There are another couple dozen unwrapped discs I have listened to but maybe not enough, or maybe it's been a few months and I need a refresher. I spend these few weeks walking around with my tried and true CD walkman. It accompanies me on dog walks, household chores, and long sessions of sitting on the couch. Between that, the tendency for football (my "theater" as Jessica puts it) to become quite interesting in November and December, and the crisp weather of late fall and early winter, I LOVE THIS TIME OF YEAR! Really, man. I live for this stuff. We'll come back here in a minute. But for now...
WHATCHA PAY FOR and WHATCHA GET
A couple weeks ago, in a seven day period I attended three different athletic competitions at Qwest Field.
Exhibit A: Seattle Seahawks vs. Arizona Cardinals NFL game. It was a big game, these teams being in the same division, the Cardinals having won it last year en route to a Super Bowl appearance 
and the Seahawks having won it all four priors with a Super Bowl appearance of their own. We had great seats, maybe 25 rows up on the 50 yard line. The game was boring, the Seahawks got rolled, and I'd be shocked if a single play made the highlight reel on SportsCenter that night. Though the tickets were free to us (thank you, Jessica's vendor who is also taking us to see KISS in a suite tomorrow night!)... Face Value Ticket Price: $394
Exhibit B: Seattle Sounders FC vs. Houston Dynamo MLS playoff game. The Sounders have taken this town by storm. This game set a Major League Soccer attendance record, with 35,000 and change in the house. The incredibly exciting, tense, physical game ended in a 0-0 tie. My assumption: this is the playoffs, so we're about to see a shoot-out of some kind. Reality: MLS 
playoffs are a 2-game deal, with each team hosting a game and the cumulative score determining the winner. Kind of like the Beanpot. That bummed me out, though I enjoy the logic. It was a marvelous contest between two equally-matched teams of professional sport. We had great seats, club level, close to the goal where almost all the super-intense action and near-scores happened in the second half... Face Value Ticket Price: $25
Exhibit C: Portland State University vs. Eastern Washington University collegiate Division I-AA football game. The game was played in Seattle's NFL stadium as an experiment, Eastern has an estimated 16,000 alumni on this side of the mountains, and Portland is only three hours away so perhaps their fans would come out. For me, it was primarily about PSU coach Jerry Glanville, a delightful nut whose coaching career has placed him everywhere from head coach of the NFL's Atlanta Falcons to defensive coordinator for the University of Hawaii. He's a colorfully verbose man, a defensive-minded guy, and I've been a big fan for many years. In a classic NFL Films piece in which head coaches are miked, Glanville famously chastises a referee in a 1989 Falcons-Oilers game with this gem (I implore you, please watch this, it is 24K gold):
How great is that? So, a Division I-AA game, which means we're watching players who were not offered Division I scholarships to the big-time schools, which in this region means the PAC-10 (USC, UCLA, Oregon, Washington, Arizona, Arizona State, Cal, Stanford). Some I-AA guys go on to the pros, but they are few in number. The kids who elect to play at this level, for my money, are some combination of these things: able to play at a high level but just weren't fortunate enough to secure a big-time scholarship; chose to accept a scholarship at the I-AA level because with no NFL delusions of grandeur would rather play here than ride the bench for a bigger program; or, with the same absence of grandeur, simply chose the school they wished to attend based on its academic programs and/or locale. I love Divison I-AA football. These guys are not deciding which undergrad year after which to leave school and enter the draft early. They're not choosing agents or dreaming of Nike and Gatorade endorsements deals. They are playing football for the best reason. I love the NFL and the big-time collegiate game. I also watch the CFL, Arena ball, high school games... I love football. I love watching a game at any level. The game-planning, the schemes, fronts, sets, coverages, shifts, stunts, blitzes, delayed blitzes... oh, do I enjoy the game, truly a team game, one in which success of any meaningful kind demands such a high degree of individual commitment to such a team effort. [stepping off soapbox] If you asked the scoreboard on this day, I didn't see such a competitive game. Portland State was blown out by Eastern Washington, 47-10. But I sat in the very front row, on the 50 yard-line, behind the Portland State bench. I not only had what I'd consider THE best seat in the house, I enjoyed the sounds and close proximity of watching the great Jerry Glanville in action. In this huge stadium, there may have been 4-5,000 on the Eastern side, and maybe a couple hundred where I sat on the Portland side... Face Value Ticket Price: $15
Shifting gears (stay with me, captain):
Two Albums Currently Kicking My Ass:
Tinted Windows - a super group, if you will. Pure, straight-ahead, hook-laden power pop magic. When I heard of the band's assembly, and that they'd be playing the annual South By Southwest music conference, I was skeptical. I enjoy the parts, but was worried the sum of them would come in low. The band is: Taylor Hanson on vocals. Yes, that Hanson (there are two kinds of people in this world, people - those who celebrate "MMM Bop" as a catchy motherf***ing song, and those who think they're too cool to admit it). On guitar, the ferocious James Iha, formerly of the Smashing Pumpkins. On bass and backing vocals, Adam Schlesinger of the highly-adored cult phenom power pop outfit Fountains of Wayne. And... (channeling Live at Budokan...) "ON THE DRUMS... MISTER BUN E. CARLOS!" What a great listen this album is. It's just fun. What I like about musicians like this is that rather than show off their musical chops by gratuitously flying up and down scales as a one-trick technical dexterity pony (which is fine - hats off to the likes of Pat Metheny, Yes, Rush, King Crimson, et al), they show off the far less accessible skill of writing, arranging, and recording infectious pop rock full of fuzzy guitars, tasteful drum fills, adolescent (but not sophomoric) themes, and enough hooks for a long fishing trip.
M. Ward - I won't be as long-winded here. This Portland, OR singer-songwriter has been on my radar for a few years now. I've appreciated and enjoyed everything he has done in the past. Beyond his talent, he's done enough collaborating with his contemporaries to suggest that his foremost interest is making and being involved with quality music while having a successful career from a mercenary standpoint should be a residual byproduct of the former. The album he released in February blew me away when it came out, it passed what I and my finicky Uncle Eddie call "the car test" in which you play a CD while driving 
and if the music can command your attention while you're driving and must pay attention to other things, then it's a good one. I came back to this album last night and it just put me on the floor. At times it is stark and uses space and silence to its benefit, and at times it puts four to the floor and drives. Throughout, this thing is full of great songs which were recorded well, meaning the production serves the songs by getting out of the way when good taste says so, while applying some density and turning some knobs at times for the same reason. Add a brilliant cover of Buddy Holly's "Rave On" and you've got yourself a listening experience.
What else do you want?
I've never been a Lionel Richie fan per se. But when searching for Halloween pumpkin stencil designs for this weekend, I came across one of his mug that looked cool and not too difficult. And then I got to thinkin', I've never owned one of his albums, but the dude put out a lot of good songs. Among them:
Say You, Say Me
Hello
All Night Long
Easy Like Sunday Morning
Dancing on the Ceiling
Still
Three Times a Lady (remember when Eddie Murphy sang this as Buckwheat on SNL? "unce, tice, fee tines a mady")
From '81 to '87, he had a run of 13 consecutive Top Ten hits, five of them Number Ones. "Endless Love" was the most successful single in Motown history, but I personally can't stand the song. Richie wrote and produced Kenny Rogers' huge hit, "Lady." His nine-year streak of writing at least one Number One single a year is a feat matched only by Irving Berlin. Anyway, it's not like I'm about to run out and buy his records. But as my pumpkin search led to him, I considered his body of work. It reminds me of when I saw Joe Cocker play in Milwaukee 11-12 years ago. I've never owned one of his albums, but he played for two and a half hours and I knew every song on the set list.
Back to the pumpkin. It was a stencil design, but my printer wasn't working so I had to draw and carve freehand. Happy Halloween!
To my Seattle friends,
With a critical Mayoral election coming up, one which (in my opinion) could be incredibly influential on the matter of this cool and livable town becoming a great city, don't forget to vote. Click here for the 411 on registration, polling places, absentee ballots, etc.. Here are my notes on what each candidate had to say in tonight's debate. I was undecided prior to this debate, having read on the election more than the average slob but not having seen the candidates speak. Ironically, the better public speaker is not the one I'll be voting for. These are impartial real-time notes, cleaned up for spelling/grammar/punctuation, with my .02 at the bottom.
Viaduct/Tunnel:
McGinn - move forward if/when there's a plan and budget to handle cost overruns. $4.2B project, the state is only on for $2.4B of it, taxpayers shouldn't handle overruns (est. $15g/household). Cites Oxford University study: 97% of infrastructure projects come in late and over budget.
Mallahan - the city is growing impatient, we've been dealing with this since 2001, so let's move move forward and deal with cost overruns if they occur. Cites University of Washington study: 90% of politicians who platform on infrastructure projects don't complete them.
Light Rail:
McGinn - wants to build lines to Ballard, W. Seattle, Greenview, U District, Eastside corridor along 520 and I-90. Cites Portland's success, 5 maxi-rail systems, most recently 8 miles of maxi-rail in 3 years for $575g, accessible & cost effective benefit. "Portland doesn't build Cadillac transit systems. They build systems that work to get people places and it makes their city a better place. We should exploit the benefit and savings of learning from what Portland has done."
Mallahan - no substantive remarks or ideas, other than to lightly mock his opponent's commitment to it and cite it as something McGinn wants to spend money on while posturing as the cost-sensitive candidate - "We should move with all due haste, make sure it gets across the Lake and up to Lynnwood"
Existing Public Transit:
McGinn - enhance Metro service by exerting the city's existing influence as it owns and controls Rights of Way (more bus lanes)
Mallahan - likes Sound Transit 3, wants to "figure out funding to enhance Metro service and make sure that expense falls on those who use it"
520/I-90:
McGinn - part of his light rail plan is to run lines along these freeways between Seattle and the Eastside. Both junctions with I-5 are the two most clogged traffic points in the state. Light rail would reduce the number of cars without having to build new bridges, expand lanes, or interrupt existing throughput.
Mallahan - wants to expand lanes on 520, claims McGinn's light rail option there will cause more traffic (my only opinion remark in this section: I swear to god, he did say this, that running light rail along a freeway increases traffic on the freeway. Oh boy.)
Public Gun Ban:
McGinn - favors a gun ban in in parks, community centers, and public recreation areas, pools, etc.
Mallahan - supports the Second Amendment, does not favor a gun ban
Law Enforcement & Safety:
McGinn - citing the gun ban and enhancing police benefits like education pay incentives, stresses making Seattle a place where more people will want to join the PD
Mallahan - acknowledges that as we have 500 officers on a 625-officer operational plan, we need more patrol officers
Public Broadband:
McGinn - wants to lay fiber optic network utility for broadband access throughout the city, not tax-funded but paid for by subscriptions and usage fees
Mallahan - cites this as another cost item supported by his opponent who claims to be cost-sensitive (apparently, he missed the part about the project being covered by subscriptions and usage fees)
Overall Gist:
McGinn - stresses his proven commitment to community, quit his lawyer job 3 years ago to start a non-profit, headed Sierra Club; on every issue, was sensitive to cost, who pays for things, analyzing cost-benefit.
Mallahan - stresses private sector experience, managing projects and people, leading successful organizations.
My .02
Honest to goodness, prior to tonight's debate I was undecided. I've read on it more than the average citizen, but as a debate enthusiast, tonight was instrumental in my decision. Boy, I love me a debate. Lincoln-Douglas format, bring that shit to me right now, baby. Anyway, all my notes above were taken during the debate. Below, my opinions.
McGinn:
What I Like - I agree with all of his stances on transit, infrastructure, and the gun ban. He comes across as a man who is thoughtful, community and neighborhood-oriented, values public benefits that may not fully arrive until after his mayoral term (read: courageous), decisive with fire in his belly but pragmatic and sensitive to taxpayer burden.
What I Don't Like - his lack of elected-official experience, and that he doesn't come across as a traditional Type A leader. Quite possibly, though, these items may be irrelevant or even desirable.
Mallahan:
What I Like - his extensive private sector pedigree suggests he would be more effective navigating the tricky political landscape not only at City Hall, but where City interests are often reliant on County and State participation.
What I Don't Like - Whether his business savvy translates to the public sector is a toss-up. He could prove to be remarkably swift and result-oriented, or he could alienate everyone and accomplish nothing. It's not a gamble I wish to take. More importantly, he issues few tangible ideas and objectives, which at worst means he's indecisive or hasn't done the pre-requisite research (hard to swallow, given how much money, staff, and consultants he's invested in the campaign, a sum that trumps his opponent's several times over) - or at best, it could mean that he's unwilling to write campaign promise checks he may not be able to cash once in office. I appreciate that on one level but not on another. When I prompt myself to decide on this, I prefer to know where a candidate's values reside. I don't hold a candidate absolutely responsible for accomplishing the platform points in office, because budgetary constraints, City Council filibusters, and conflicting agendas with the State and County can easily handcuff a mayor, especially in the State of Washington. But for now, when you're appealing to my vote, don't tell me you've got the mojo and will do whatever the right thing is whenever the time comes - tell me where you stand, tell me what's important to you, do everything you can to get 'er done in office, and limit my good faith vote to the matter of your contingency management and halftime game-planning skills.
As the Times wrote last week, either candidate will be drinking from a fire hose. Given that,
My candidate is Mike McGinn.
UR
LOL
ROFLMAO
CUL8R
That's what our language has become. When you ask people why text messaging is their preferred mode of communication, the most common answer is, "You don't have to talk to people." Great. Christ on a stick, do I wish I was born about 40 years earlier - but with the Interwebs at my disposal. This thing rocks! Just tonight, I learned that David Hasselhoff was kicked out of his Atlanta high school before eventually graduating from LaGrange, Illinois. I couldn't find why he was ousted from the ATL, but let's assume together that it was not for being cool. F***in' Hasselhoff... Now I go.
As we approach the first Tuesday in November and Ref. 71 is on the ballot, you can estimate I'll make a mention or six about it between now and then. For now, please enjoy the thoughts of 86 year-old WWII veteran, self-described lifetime Republican and VFW Chaplain Phillip Spooner at a public meeting in Maine this past April. Invest 3:51 in the clip below, but let the operative quote be:
The woman at my polling place asked me do I believe in equality for gay and lesbian people. I was pretty surprised to be asked a question like that. It made no sense to me. Finally I asked her: what do you think I fought for in Omaha Beach?
Last Wednesday night I had a pretty weird but humorous dream. On the drive into work Thursday morning, I told Jessica about it. She told me in earnest, "Eric, please, promise me you won't tell anyone about this dream. Okay? People will think you're weird. Wait, you haven't told anyone, have you?" It's been a few days and I think people might find it funny - and you already know I'm kind of weird - so here goes, my strange dream from last Wednesday, which I'll tell in the present tense, to bring you into the scene.
I'm enjoying the first night of a week-long vacation rental house in Wrentham, Mass. There I am, cold chillin' in this mansion-for-rent, when Leonardo DiCaprio comes driving up on the lawn in a white Ford F-series pick-up with extended cab, tears up part of the lawn and crashes into a tree. He gets out and starts yelling,
"Brady! You in there? Come on out, Tom! Let's settle this like a man right now! You stole my girl, now you buy my house out from under me? What the f***k, Tom?!"
"Hey, Leo, I loved you in the Departed and the Basketball Diaries, but what the hell is going on here? I'm on vacation, this is a rental, I booked it through a travel agent in Boston, I grew up around here, live in Seattle now and I just wanted to spend a week relaxing by myself."
"Hey, I'm sorry you got dragged into this. I believe you. I'm leavin' the truck here as a reminder for Tom. I want him to know I was here, and this s**t is real. Take it easy, man. Hope you enjoy the rental. Do you cook? Use the kitchen, it's awesome. Seriously."
"Hey, if Leonardo DiCaprio paid you a visit, I apologize and I hope things didn't get out of hand. I guess you know by now, I own the house you rented. I bought it last year in a public auction. It had bad taxes. The deal is, you get a killer price but you don't know who defaulted on the tax bill. Apparently, Leonardo owned it from when he made The Departed - really good movie,too, if you haven't seen it, the DVD is in the bookshelf with the rest of the movies - then he went on an extended movie set oversees, and I guess he lost track of some bills and the property was seized by the IRS, and then the public auction happened. So, you may know that he was Gisele's last boyfriend before me, and I guess he thinks this whole situation is no coincidence. He thinks I'm trying to mess with him, and I really am not. I love his movies. Have you seen Catch Me If You Can?
Come on, that's a great film. That's in the bookshelf, too - help yourself. This whole situation is unfortunate. I'd like to talk it out with Leonardo someday but these days he's just angry. Anyway, I'm sorry you didn't get the back story when you booked the rental. I try to keep a low profile with this thing. I use the house as a place
for my buddies to stay when they travel here for the home games, and I block off certain times in the off-season to chill there with my friends, and otherwise it's a rental. I don't like to advertise myself as the owner because it would draw attention and I keep the rates low, just as long as the revenue covers my cost of having it, I'm happy. Well, I guess that's it. Sorry again. Hey, if you like to cook, the kitchen is stocked for you and it totally rocks, my favorite room in the house. See you later."
Ah, another crisp Fall afternoon enjoying a contest of the oblong pig-skinned spheroid complemented by cold beer, a warm pretzel, and roughly 67,000 neighbors...
At my job, when I want to show someone appreciation for good work, take care of someone for going the extra mile, I can extend such lavish appreciation as a $5 foot long from Subway or a $10 gift card to Starbucks. At Jessica's job, vendors take her (and by association, me) to, in today's example, a Seahawks game with seats in the club level, on the 50 yard line. Seats in this section are sold at the box office and through Ticketbastard for $394 apiece. Good god man, that's about what the average American clears in a week. Because of Jessica's work for an ad agency, from time to time we get these things on the house. The same vendor who took us to today's game is hosting us in a luxury suite at next month's KISS concert. Our gracious host is a nice guy to boot, a youth football coach who enjoys a friendly wager and allowed me to buy a beer for his not-quite-yet 21-year-old son.
With my $150 entry-level digital camera, here's the game view from these seats:
I'd complain, but who'd listen? The game itself wasn't anything to write home about, as the Seahawks played like a junior varsity team incapable of doing anything effective. On the game's opening drive, the Arizona Cardinals chewed up 10:47 of clock while performing surgery on the Seattle defense and scoring a touchdown. They proceeded to recover the kick-off to get the ball back and then methodically scored again. 14 minutes into the game, Arizona led 14-0 and Seattle had not yet a single play on offense. The final score of 27-3 understated the mild-mannered beating bestowed onto the hometown team. Looking at the box score, Arizona had the ball for 42:50 of the 60-minute game, Seahawk QB Matt Hasselbeck was sacked five times, the Cardinals were 8-for-16 on 3rd down while the Seahawks were a dismal 0-for-11, and the icing on the cake: Seattle's rushing attack comprised four backs combining for a staggering 14 total yards (not a misprint: fourteen total yards on the ground for the Seachickens today).
Seattle's "12th Man" - the crowd, widely known as the loudest in all of football - roared loud enough to cause three Arizona false start penalties. This is arguably the most decisive home-field advantage in the NFL, as the visiting teams accumulate a league-leading number of these penalties in Seattle year after year. Many teams accuse the Seahawks of piping extra noise in through the public address system, when in fact it's a simple combination of acoustic stadium design and a fan base that really enjoys yelling. Today, though, it just wasn't enough. When the 11 guys on the field aren't doing much, the 12th Man is fighting an unwinnable battle.
Per the red underlining in my spell check, unwinnable is apparently not a word. I'm using it anyway. I'm a loner. A rebel.
By the early part of the 4th quarter, the stadium's mood soured and folks started heading for the exits.
I love Bob Dylan. I love his new album, and that he's gone in a decidedly blues-oriented direction during the last 15 years or so. Ed and I attended and loved his show at the Moore Theatre last week, a general admission show in a 1400-seat Vaudeville-era room with tickets only made available to Dylan's fan club. When the Seattle Times ran its concert review a couple days later, we were pleasantly surprised to see Ed's club in print. Here's the mention:
"Backed by a crack quintet, including Texas-born ace guitarist Charlie Sexton, he spent the next half-hour doling out rote boogie blues jams - tight, sure, but the Highway 99 Blues Club is equally so on any given Tuesday."
Is this a compliment for us and the Tuesday night Scarlet Tree All Stars series? Is it a mild slight toward Dylan? A little bit of both? Who knows. Overall, the review was positive. All we can say is, it's quite an honor to be mentioned in the same breath as Bob Dylan. Click here for the full Seattle Times review
My comments on the show:
I've been a huge Dylan fan all my life and have seen dozens of his shows. Boston, Chicago, New York, New Jersey, Minnesota, Wisconsin, Atlanta, Seattle... At the Moore, while the show was at times simply awesome and at times kind of mundane, overall we were happy for its favorable balance of strong points. Rarely played chestnuts like "Gonna Change My Way of Thinking" and "Shooting Star" plus inspired takes on "Ballad of a Thin Man", "Don't Think Twice" and "I Don't Believe You (She Acts Like We Never Have Met)" outweighed my opinion that he ignored the true gems of the new album (I wanted to hear "My Wife's Home Town" and "It's All Good").
As Ed and I talked about the show over slices at Belltown Pizza that night, we discussed the idea of "What would be your ideal Dylan show?" Tough question, even when you limit the answer to current realities and avails (he can't reunite with the Hawks, for example). Some nights, Dylan is "on." Other nights, not so much. One thing that's always the same is that the set list is always different. You never know what you're gonna get. It's not as simple as an artist favoring the new album - I've seen him play a lot of brand new stuff and then very little brand new stuff, within the same tour. At the Moore, he played two songs from the new album, four from Modern Times (2006), three from Love & Theft (2001), one each from the late 70s gospel period and the late 80s, five from the 60s, and nothing from the albums many argue as his career best, Blood on the Tracks and Blonde On Blonde. Looking at the set lists online... the following night, a mile down the road at WaMu Theatre, Dylan's show comprised not even half of the songs we saw and heard at the Moore. The following night in Portland, exactly half the songs had been played at either of the two Seattle shows. The night after that in Eugene, same deal, half the set list had anything in common with the prior two shows. Over the years, as I watch Dylan's set lists from town the town, there's no apparent structure or architecture, as in, "he always opens with a song from Album X, the first song of the encore is always something from Album Y, there's a 3-song piece in the middle that's always the same" and so on. Dylan plays a song one night as the opener, he may not play it again for 20 years, or he may play it again a few days later but it's done mid-show, or in the encore; one night, he may favor his newest material; another night, he may favor something from the previous album (as he did at the Moore); yet another night, he may favor any particularly identifying slice of his career, be it a period, an album, a subject matter, a style or genre, or none at all. It seems random. As Jonathan Zwickel so thoughtfully wrote in his Seattle Times review, It's Dylan being Dylan. You don't get the Dylan you want. You get the Dylan you get.
At Belltown Pizza, Ed and I decided that we like it the way it is. If Dylan felt compelled to get on the nostalgia circuit and play a bunch of his major hits every night, he may as well take it to the casinos. He stopped having anything to prove a long time ago, yet from his late 50s to late 60s he's been putting out material that stands aside his classic stuff of three and four decades ago. The only artist who comes close to Dylan in terms of issuing artistically and musically endearing stuff in his 60s is Tom Waits. Springsteen just turned 60 and to qualify for the discussion, he'll have to do better than he did in his 40s and his 50s. I love Bruce and his output of the last 20 years, but in terms of rivaling the output of his 20s and 30s in his 60s, all signs point to No.
The moral to this story is that we are all very lucky to have Bob Dylan as an active, productive artist who tours as he does in our lifetime, particularly as he plays small clubs and theaters while he can (and does, when he feels like it) play large arenas and outdoor sheds. He is not just a great journeyman troubadour. We have plenty of those. My favorites are Alejandro Escovedo and Ramblin' Jack Elliott. Back to Dylan. He is the most prolific and profound recording artist I can think of, and he continues to create new music, albums, and plays about a hundred shows a year. Not bad for a 68 year-old guy. His legacy as a recording artist is far greater than any other. If anyone has massive laurels on which to rest, it his him. But while far lesser artists do that, he doesn't. Artistically, Dylan has balls of steel and an ambitious output of work in each of the last five decades to back it up.
I am a huge Obama fan, but even I am scratching my head over the Nobel Peace Prize he is being awarded. Too soon. He hasn't done enough. Despite my displeasure with Obama's lack of visible progress, I am happy he is in office. As party-polarized as the Hill is, the Right will oppose anything and everything he tries to do with great zeal and vigor. The GOP has become more shameless than ever before, resorting to violent protests at town hall meetings, labeling the president a Socialist, comparing him to Hitler, and letting their inner racist bleed right through the thinly-veiled cloth behind which they hide.
Sen. Alan Grayson (D-Florida) put it brilliantly yesterday when he said, "If the President has a BLT tomorrow, the Republicans will try to ban bacon."
In order to forge progress, Obama may need to dial down the diplomatic objective of selling his ideas and initiatives in favor of approaching his job more like George and Dick did: by relentless jamming his agenda down America's throat. Bush and Cheney had eight years to do their damage. Obama needs at least a term to create visible progress.
Anyway, back to the Nobel Peace Prize... Nominations have to be turned in by early February. Obama took office on January 20th, meaning he was basically nominated for his Presidential campaign. While I do think it's too soon, because I'd like to see Obama accomplish some of the things I know he will, this is not even close to the least appropriate Prize. War-mongering scumbag Henry Kissinger got one in 1973. Yasser Arafat got one, which was like the Jethro Tull-wins-Heavy-Metal-Grammy moment at which point the award ceased to have much relevance or respectability. Maybe they can re-name it this year to the You Are Not George Bush Prize, which would allow Obama to open his acceptance with, "I'd like to first thank my predecessor, without whom none this would not be possible."
here are some other people who may have been given the award instead:
Bill Clinton for turning into Jimmy Carter and heading over to North Korea to free the two arrested journalists.
MC Hammer for getting Michael Crabtree to sign with the Forty Niners.
Michael Jackson for bringing the whole world together by dying.
Paging all single ladies. nsfw
(title stolen from the great Peter King)
1. Rush Limbaugh, who is exerting an effort to buy an NFL team, is mostly doing so to realize his ultimate dream of owning black people. I don't think he will be successful, as the NFL already has more than enough drug problems to contend with.
2. People who use these words are either rural, religious, painfully limited, or surrounded by any combination of the above and don't want to rock the boat:
heck, dang, darn, dagnabit, dadgum
3. Athletes and sports broadcasters who keep using the present tense to discuss the past are annoying. Today's example: in last week's Sports Illustrated, when asked about the value brought to the team by relief pitcher Mariano Rivera and the championships the team has won, New York Yankees catcher Jorge Posada said: "Without [Rivera], we don't win four championships. I know we don't win in 2000." I'll ignore the fact that in the first of Rivera's four title years, 1996, while Rivera was a member of the Yankees, Posada was a minor-league all-star with the Columbus Clippers who did spend 8 games that year in the Show (he went 1-for-14), not enough to be on the major league roster. Instead, I'll focus on his magnificent ability to be an idiot. I expect so much more from Mr. Posada, a distinguished alumnus of Calhoun Community College in Decatur, Alabama.
Now I go to bed.
I must rant about Roman Polanski. For those living in a cloud, he is a famous, Oscar-winning film director of The Pianist and other critically acclaimed masterpieces such as Chinatown and Rosemary's Baby. 
He's a French-born Jew whose family endured the Holocaust, his mother was killed at Auschwitz and his father survived a camp somewhere else. His second wife, Sharon Tate, was killed in the famous Manson Muders of 1968. First 35 years of Roman's life, he had it tough, no doubt.
Fast forward to 1977.
The Story
He did a private photo shoot with a 13 year-old girl at Jack Nicholson's house, during which he gave her champagne as part of the shoot, the bubbly was spiked with quaaludes, and he proceeded to rape her anally while she used the word "No" many times, according to interviews the victim has given at the time and as recently as 2003. He pleaded guilty and was convicted. The attorneys reached a plea bargain to send him for 90 days of psychiatric care instead of jail. The judge rejected it and sentenced him to 50 years. He fled the country and returned to his native France. He has made a bunch of successful films since that time but has not returned to the U.S. for obvious reasons.
This Week
Polanski was arrested in Switzerland the other day and may be shipped to the U.S. to serve his sentence. Much of the Hollywood elite - particularly Harvey Weinstein who has initiated a petition to pardon the guy, to Harrison Ford who accepted Polanski's Oscar for the Pianist, naturally Sean Penn (whose outspoken activism I normally agree with and support) weighed in, and of course the aforementioned Nicholson who starred in Chinatown, plus a host of other Hollywood heavyweights - to support the notion that he should be cleared of all charges and not serve any time.
My Opinion, Part One
What amazes me more than anything, is that there is even a dialog surrounding this thing. The guy drugged and raped a seventh-grader. He pleaded guilty. And then he left the country to avoid jail time.
Irrelevance.
After receiving an undisclosed sum from Polanski, the victim has stated a preference that he doesn't serve a sentence. It has been said that her mother is/was a scumbag who whored the girl out, knowing what would happen given Polanski's apparent penchant for underage girls at the time. The judge didn't accept the plea deal that was arranged between the lawyers, and some have bitched about that despite the 
reality that no judge is compelled to accept any plea bargain. Some have argued that the age of consent should be lower, as it is in other countries. Some have used his early life hardship - a Jew whose family endured the Holocaust, that his second wife was murdered in one of the most public atrocities we've seen. Some have even stated that because he has directed some good movies, he should be exempt from the law as it would apply to any non-celebrity. Some have said that as he's spent the last 32 years in France instead of Hollywood, he has served a sentence and paid his debt.
My Opinion, Part Two
The things mentioned in the paragraph above are completely irrelevant. The notion that Roman Polanski has a served a sentence of any kind is laughable. He is a child rapist, and he should serve a rather unpleasant sentence. Period.
If Roman Polanski was a one-toothed plumber from Inglewood, or a six-figure-income nerdy CPA from Santa Barbara, he'd have been sentenced to 50 years and nobody would have any issue with it. But he's a talented, respected, arty filmmaker, so he gets a pass. Bullshit.
Two hundred years ago, 13 was nearly middle-aged - life expectancy in the late 1800s was 45 for men and 49 for women. Post-electricity, 13 year old girls are best characterized by chewing lots of bubblegum with their mouths open and ending most sentences with "and stuff." In 1977 when this happened, add a pair of roller skates and a Bee Gees album. She was 13. He was 44. He gave her champagne and 'ludes. She said No many times, according to a 2003 interview which has been quoted in tons of news sources this week. He raped her. In the ass.
Yeah, instead of incarcerating the prick, let's let him live in France, make movies, and give him trophies.
For a near-perfect musical representation of this item, CLICK HERE
My brother Ed works his ass off. As the owner of a nightclub - certainly the finest and arguably the only true rhythm & blues joint in all the Pacific Northwest, Highway 99 Blues Club - he works all the time. Anyone who doesn't appreciate how much a small business owner works has never been a small business owner. Anyway, Ed sometimes gets the kind of love normally afforded to bigger players, partly the result of him not having squeezed his vendors shamelessly during his days as a corporate GM and (in my opinion) mostly because he's just a great guy and a man of his word. On Sundays, he normally re-charges by sleeping all day, as anyone who works 18 hours a day for 3-4 consecutive days will. It's the only day his business is not normally open, so he uses it to rest, stay off his feet, and get all his accounting and paperwork done. This Sunday, he got Bears-Seahawks tickets from a beer vendor and took his brother (that's me!) to the game. I know how much Ed values his Sunday as a much-needed day of rest, and while he does love the Bears I'm sure that he scored these tickets more for me (football fanatic) and for the kind of Brothers Day our busy lives don't often enough afford us, than for his own personal desire to spend his only available downtime on what is a highly enjoyable but also quite exhausting occasion. What a guy, that guy. My brother's good deeds do not go unnoticed, at least not by me.
We couldn't find a third ticket for Champ, so he held down the Forte at home and chilled with the DirecTV Sunday Ticket and played with his toy truck.
We began with Troy and Sydney at our favorite sports bar, King Street Bar & Oven:
Then we headed into the stadium for a brat, a couple beers, and sat among some visiting Bears fans.
The Bears won the game with this awesome play from Jay Cutler to Devin Hester with 1:52 remaining:
And then I supervised Edward after the game.
Awesome day. Two brothers, mano y mano with cold beer, tasty brats, and a Bears win on a delightfully clear Seattle Sunday afternoon. Days like this... I bitch and whine a lot, but a day like this serves as a reminder that I have it pretty god damned good.
Nice article on toilet paper in today's Washington Post: Right here, dude.
My .02: when using the higher-end soft paper like Quilted Northern, I experience a certain "smear factor" and wind up having to use a lot more paper to get the job done. I can't explain it, it just happens, the softer and fluffier the T.P., the more doody is redistributed within my cheeks - and we all know how much the Right hates that word, redistributed - hence, there is a correlation between the (perceived) quality of the paper and how much of it I have to use. I get more mileage out of the cheaper stuff, which tends to be on sale more often anyway. And the recycled stuff feels the same as the cheaper stuff. I most often use the recycled stuff, but sometimes I do buy the cheap non-recycled stuff when the price is significantly lower. My personal preference doesn't desire the soft and fluffy T.P. due to the aforementioned smearing issue. When I've used the "good" stuff, I end up going through so much more paper (i.e., spending more) and flushing the terlit 2-3-4 times per "session," when I could just be flushing it once like I do when I use the cheaper and (most often) recycled products.
Normally, I use this stuff, which is usually cheapest at my neighborhood QFC: Seventh Generation.
My tendency has more to do with personal preference than anything else. It's just a nice coincidence that my preference in this area is in alignment with the environmental issue mentioned in the Washington Post article. In general, I do not consider myself an environmental activist. I enjoy convenience as much as anyone else. However, when faced with a purchasing or lifestyle choice with environmental implications, I usually make a quick and qualitative assessment by asking "How much does my preference go against the environmental grain here, and how much inconvenience will I incur to alter my choice to be more environmentally friendly?" Recycling, for example, is a no-brainer. To me, it's as easy to recycle as it is to not recycle, throwing my stuff into three different bins rather than one. If driving someplace that's a mile or even a few blocks away will be more convenient and save time, I'll add to the air pollution and ride. But, where making an easy change like using my own canvass bag at the grocery store involves a negligible sacrifice (or none at all, in the grocery example), it's hardly a choice at all.
Do you like music? Do you appreciate a mind-blowing guitar solo? From the 3:30 mark, Prince simply OWNS this thing:
That is all.
I enjoy attending sporting events, especially when there's a certain electricity in the air. Bigtime college football is always exciting. As a kid, I went to a lot of Boston College games, and that really became fun during the Doug Flutie era. Attending Syracuse when they were a perennial Top 20 program, I was a 4-year season ticket holder. Living in Chicago for ten years, I went to a lot of Northwestern games. Here in Seattle, I've been guilty of not going to a lot of University of Washington games, despite Husky Stadium being 2.5 miles from home and Pac-10 football being a scoring-intensive brand of play. Tonight, the LSU Tigers were in town for the U-Dub opener, a nationally televised game and at 7:30pm the latest kick-off in Husky history. 20,000 of the stadium's 72,000 seats played host to the posteriors of visiting fans from the Bayou. I've never seen an SEC team play live and much of the most dynamic, balanced, furious football comes out of that conference. Last year, UW was 0-12 while LSU was in the national championship conversation until late in the season. This game was supposed to be a blowout. I wanted to go anyway. I've got a fever, and the only cure is more football. My father is in town, he's decidedly not a football fan but as it turns out, he was interested in the game for its blend of bigtime college football, the clash of Seattleites with the visiting Louisiana fans, and a taste of pigskin culture as the sun set on Lake Washington.
What a night. If you could bottle this energy, you'd really have something. Fate 
sat us in the LSU section and their fans were great, enthusiastic and nice people who traveled diagonally across the country in their team's colors, with pom-poms and signs in hand. Some UW fans sat in the LSU area. The tension normally associated with such a situation was replaced with a simple matter of people rooting for their teams, engaging in fun banter comparing the Bayou to the Land of Starbucks. 
The Husky fans showed up, too.
The home team took the field to a raucous environment
and proceeded to not only make a game of it, but they outplayed LSU in all major categories. When the Dawgs spent four and a half minutes to march 85 yards in ten plays for a touchdown on the game's first drive, college football fans across the nation were surely stunned. 
They continued to play with the heavily-favored opponent and went into halftime trailing 17-13, a point at which most pundits had predicted a multiple-touchdown deficit with the hometown fans heading for the exits. During the intermission, dad got some chowder from Ivar's and I enjoyed a jumbo dog and 20-oz. Dasani water for seven bucks (a food and beverage order which may as well come with a loan application at most pro stadiums). In a delightful surprise, the UW cheerleaders and band took to the concourse and gave us an impromptu show during the break.
The game remained tight throughout the second half and ultimately, LSU won 31-23. While the Huskies outdid their opponent in the trenches and in the box score (more first downs, 3rd and 4th down conversions, rushing yards, net special teams yardage, almost twice as many passing yards), LSU rose to the occasion at the crucial moments, twice holding UW to field goal attempts after first downs in the red zone, and a 39-yard "pick-six" interception return. Still, Washington can only be incredibly proud of its team, which had its only winless season last year, has been projected to finish 4-8 at best this year, and just played with - beat in every way south of the scoreboard - an LSU team that's only ranked #11 (AP) and #9 (USA Today) because two other teams in its conference are ranked in the Top Five and the pollsters try too hard to spread the ranking wealth across the major conferences.
A great night. Cool, Northwest weather. Football during sundown into nighttime. ESPN late game broadcast. Hometown Pac-10 underdog plays heavily-favored SEC powerhouse to the wire. Fans of both teams are happy, LSU for the win and UW for the long-absent display of great football. How to wrap this up? Right here:
$240 Worth of Pudding
Seattle, where I live, is a very green city. I enjoy that. Why not? Living in an environmentally-friendly way does not require living less conveniently. It's as easy to recycle as it is to not recycle. It's as easy to bring your own bag to the store than to use the crappy ones they provide (my doubled-up plastic bags split wide open twice last year on the 2-block scamper home, once from QFC and once from Safeway, respectively). Though some cities have restrictions on plastic and some suburban towns have outright bans, Seattle stands to become the largest U.S. city to ban plastic. Click here for a legitimate news story
There's an initiative to impose a 20-cent green fee on disposable shopping bags, both paper and plastic. Some people are in an uproar. Many of these people are referring to using plastic bags as a right. Yeah, I think it's in there, in the Bill of Rights, that is. The right to use plastic bags is right up there in the top ten, alongside free speech, trial by jury... actually, Number Nine offers open interpretation to anything anyone wants to call a right: "Protection of rights not specifically enumerated in the Bill of Rights." I say God damn. The Bill of Rights may as well say, "this document covers these nine things, plus whatever else you want it to. All right? Now bang the gavel and let's break for lunch." What a loophole, that crazy Number Nine.
Back to the ballot. The 20-cent tax/fee/surcharge would take effect next year. Bags used inside stores to contain bulk items, bags for prepared food, newspaper and dry-cleaner bags would be exempt. There's also a proposed ban on Styrofoam.
To the people who feel their Constitutional rights will be violated by this initiative, I really don't see the big deal. Every grocery store around here already offers cloth bags for cheap purchase, and you can also bring your own. 
Some stores offer a discount to people who use their own bags. Ikea offers 10% off on Tuesdays to everyone who uses their own blue cloth Ikea bags (59-cents apiece), and the store is discontinuing all use of plastic bags in October regardless of how the vote goes. Some consumers have been on the program for decades. According to NPR, an estimated 20 to 30 percent of Seattle shoppers already bring reusable bags to the store. Also, most fast food restaurants are already Styrofoam-free.
According to the Seattle Post-Intelligencer, "Seattleites use 360 million disposable paper and plastic shopping bags every year. Almost 240 million end up in the garbage. That's close to 4 percent of all residential garbage, by volume. This will save 4,000 tons of greenhouse gases per year, the same as taking 665 cars off the road."
Ireland placed a 33-cent tax on plastic bags in 2002 and watched use shrink 94% within weeks.
What's the big deal, plastic-lovers? I refuse to believe this thing really puts you out, yet I continue to hear silly things like, "How do you expect me to shop now? I won't be able to feed my family! It's my right!" Wow, kid. Paging Dr. Darwin...
From a message board I frequent, unsuspecting guest blogger John's Shack says:
Do any of you guys think of the parallels between sports for men and celebrity tabloid culture for women? Not with the games themselves, but with the 24 hour news cycle and the popularity of SportsCenter, there's such a huge focus & time devoted to pointless non-stories that would never have been reported in earlier decades.
I bring it up now because two of the more egregious non-stories have been reported within the week: Vick drinking a vodka and pineapple juice at an airport bar & "dissension" in the Vikings locker room over Favre. The headlines might as well read "Adult Man Drinks Alcohol" and "Players in Locker Room Might Not All Like Each Other." Also the extensive coverage of the Romo-TO-Witten BS of last year comes to mind. Who gives a shit about this stuff?
No need to expand or comment. This guy is on the money.
Some blogs are informative, particularly special interest blogs which focus on something specific. Others - like this one - are essentially an electronic diary of "what's on my mind right today" ramblings shared with the world rather than stuffed under your bed (for the record, I never kept a diary). And then there's the diarrhea of the Internet, the ones written by people who can't write but wish they could, they issue (what they consider) shocking or attention-grabbing sophomoria. Without linking to the story or the blog (undeserving of attention), some chick has a blog called Skanks in NYC. Its point is fairly self-explanatory. In it, the blogger named some supermodel "the first-place award for Skankiest in NYC" while also referring to the supermodel as a "psychotic lying whore." The supermodel took offense, sued for defamation of character, which publicly identified the identity of the blogger, who in turn was flabbergasted about her privacy being "violated" and filed some kind of counter suit. 
My point? What's good for the goose is good for the gander. I understand a blogger who chooses to hide behind the anonymity of the Interwebs. I've considered it myself, as I work for a large and (sadly) conservative company and I use this blog to rant about things that I may not consider controversial but my (or a potential new) employer might. But at the end of the day, I choose to put my name on the things I say, especially those which I elect to float into a public forum. If I were to hide behind a pseudonym here, I wouldn't feel that my thoughts have truly been shared in a meaningful way. If an idea isn't worth putting your name on, perhaps it isn't worth sharing. But like I said, I do understand anonymous bloggers. They're protecting their careers, or purging alter egos they're self-conscious about. I get it. I just prefer to stand behind anything I put out there for worldwide consumption.
Back to the skankblogger. She's got no right to be pissed off. If she can issue her content, an offended party can respond in kind. If she doesn't like the fallout, maybe she'll consider that while she pecks the keyboard under the glow of the monitor and giggles at her finished product, she's also issuing publicly accessible material about real people. The skankblogger has a right to do her thing, and the subjects of her missives have a right to react. Live by the sword and you know the rest.
I've cast some harsh judgments about people on this blog and I stand by all of them. Those people can react, sue, whatever, if they choose. And just to be clear, let me offer up a list of assholes, in no particular order, some of whom have already been crucified here and some of whom are making their Mystery Train debut:
Previously ordained assholes:
John McCain - the angry midget, personifies the idea that Spaulding from Caddyshack was given the keys to the kingdom and several dozen pre-pardons for a host of douchebaggerous acts.
Anyone who voted for him last November: also an asshole. You can't hide in the back, assholes. You don't get to criticize Dubya's terms, Rumsfeld, Rove, Cheney, and all the other crap you loved for the first eight years of this century just to fit in socially. Stand by your putrid values, assholes. Revisionist history is not allowed here, assholes.
Sarah Palin - fanatic c*nt, don't get me started.
Michael Vick - can be removed from this list once he spends an hour in a room with a number of wild fighting dogs who equal his weight in sum. He'd have to be naked because the dogs are. Also, the dogs haven't eaten in a week and Senor Vick has been doused in pig's blood. It's only an hour. He'll probably survive, in which case, he won't be an asshole anymore! If he doesn't, the world is minus one asshole. It's a win-win!
Brett Favre - one of the all-time greats, a warrior on the field and a gamer if there ever was one, but a first-class indecisive asshole to teammates, coaches, and fans in every market in which he's played.
Assholes making their Mystery Train debut:
Glenn Beck - goofy conservative talk show host who often declared U.S. healthcare a disaster in need of drastic reform in 2008, has trumpeted U.S. 
healthcare as the world's finest in 2009, recently called Barack Obama a racist and has sinced watched nearly all of his advertisers pull out of his retarded show. Sorry, calling his show retarded is a disgusting insult to the mentally handicapped. With any luck, this state of affairs will result in Glenn landing on his true calling, that of a state fair carny anywhere south of the Mason-Dixon Line. Maybe he can be the subject of a paintball game called Shoot the Asshole.
Anyone in a reality t.v. show - I understand, you're good looking and stupid, everyone from your small town is stupid and ugly, and your fifteen minutes allows you to hook up with your cross-gender stupid/good-looking counterpart from some other small town on the reality t.v. graduates reunion circuit thanks to 700-channels-and-nothin'-on basic cable... you're a harmless asshole, but still an asshole.
Lance Armstrong - big ups for beating cancer. Big downs for cheating on your wife while she saw you through it and then leaving her once you'd recovered. Further big downs for being a prima donna member of a team sport in which you really only want your team to win if you get to ride pole position. I've got a pole for you, jerkass...
Sheryl Crow - the object of Lance Armstrong's 
cheating, who, in an ironic twist, came down with cancer shortly after leaving the cycling asshole. Also, on the Letterman show she told the untrue and self-serving tale behind her hit song "Leaving Las Vegas" which inspired the real subject of the song to commit suicide after watching her appearance on t.v. When that person's best friend called to advise of the suicide, she said, "So sue me, asshole" and hung up. A real lady, that one. She is super hot, though, I'll give her that.
How many assholes is that? Nine? Man, ten would be nice, but I can't think of anyone else to flesh out the list. Ooh - I got one!
Mick Jones - charter member of one the world's greatest bands, The Clash. They broke up in '84 due to the usual tensions associated with a band finally becoming commercially successful and all the "what next?" divisive issues. The story most often told, though, is the break-up was 
primarily the result of Jones' inability to show up to rehearsals, gigs and meetings on time. Shortly before his unexpected death, Joe Strummer admitted that "Mick was not the most punctual guy, but looking back, I believe talent is worth waiting for." Ouch. Thanks to Mick Jones' star complex, we do have the fine output of Big Audio Dynamite. But for it, we'd also have a handful more Clash albums. Given a choice between the two... come on.
* Sorry, Mick, I dig your stuff with B.A.D., but I had to come up with something
This idea comes from a Facebook thread in which my old ass is unable to figure out how to fit more than the first seven of fifty into the space allowed to post a reply, so I post it here. The task is, list 50 concerts you've been to, as they come to mind but starting with your first concert, no ranking, no comments, just think of your concertgoing history and type 'em as they enter your memory. Here's mine. I tried to avoid artist repetition, but even I am not perfect (hard to believe, I know, you'll get over it). Here goes somethin':
1. (first concert) Ozzy Osbourne, Vandenberg at Worcester (MA) Centrum, April Fool's Day '83 (below/right)
2. Robert Plant (Phil Collins on drums) at Worcester (MA) Centrum, Sept. '83
3. The Clash at Worcester (MA) Centrum, '84
4. Van Halen at Worcester (MA) Centrum, '84
5. Pretenders, the Alarm at Orpheum Theater, Boston, '85
6. Stevie Ray Vaughan & Double Trouble, Jason & the Scorchers at Orpheum Theater, Boston, '83
7. Cheap Trick, Twisted Sister, Ratt, & Lita Ford at Kingston (NH) Fairgrounds, '84
8. Aerosmith & Foghat at Manning Bowl, Lynn, MA '85
9. Motley Crue, Accept, Helix at Manning Bowl, Lynn, MA '86
10. Bob Seger & the Silver Bullet Band, Fabulous Thunderbirds at Boston Garden, '86
11. Bob Dylan, Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers, Great Woods, Mansfield, MA, '85
12. Deep Purple at Worcester (MA) Centrum, '86
13. Judas Priest, Dokken at Worcester (MA) Centrum, '86
14. James Brown, the Blues Brothers, Kenny Wayne Shepherd at Bell Auditorium, Augusta, GA, '96
15. David Lee Roth, Poison at Worcester (MA) Centrum, '87
16. Los Lobos, Treat Her Right at Club Casino, Hampton Beach (NH), ‘88
17. Michelle Shocked at House of Blues, Chicago, ‘99
18. Billy Joel at Carrier Dome, Syracuse, ‘90
19. Boston, Farrenheit at Worcester (MA) Centrum, '86
20. Extreme at Celebration / Kenmore Club, ‘86
21. Neil Diamond at Madison Square Garden, ‘91
22. Fabulous Thunderbirds at the Stone Pony, Asbury Park, ‘93
23. Elvis Costello, Crash Test Dummies at Garden State Arts Center, ‘93
24. Southern Culture on the Skids at 9:30 Club, Washington DC, ‘97
25. Tom Waits at Chicago Theater, ‘99
26. Wilco, Steve Earle & the Dukes, Chris Mills at the Riviera Theater, Chicago, Y2K NYE (I played Baby New Year in the show, my finest moment)
27. Paul Westerberg at Ogden Theater, Denver, ‘05 (below/right, after his pants fell down 
- he never did pull them up)
28. Patti Smith at the Showbox (Seattle), ‘07
29. ZZ Top, Black Crowes at Carrier Dome, Syracuse, ‘91
30. Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band, Southside Johnny, Max Weinberg 7 at Convention Hall Asbury Park, ‘00
31. Wallflowers, Michael McDermott at Metro, Chicago, ‘00
32. Soul Asylum at Metro, Chicago, ‘97
33. Mighty Blue Kings at House of Blues, New Orleans, ‘99
34. Swimmer at Elbo Room, Chicago, countless times, ’96-‘97
35. Liquid Soul at Double Door, Chicago, countless times, ’97-98
36. Drivin N Cryin’ at Schuba’s, Chicago, ‘97
37. Poi Dog Pondering at the Aragon Ballroom, Chicago, NYE ‘97
38. Cowboy Mouth, Squirrel Nut Zippers, Cake, Cheap Trick, Steve Miller Band, many more at Music Midtown, Atlanta, ‘96
39. Sepultura, Vision of Disorder, Earth Crisis at House of Blues, Chicago, ‘99
40. Pete Townshend (w/ Eddie Vedder sitting in) at House of Blues, Chicago, ‘97
41. Pearl Jam, Bad Religion, Otis Rush at Soldier Field, Chicago, ‘95
42. Raphael Saadiq at the Showbox (Seattle), ‘08
43. Radiohead, the Beta Band at Hutchinson Field, Chicago, ‘01 (above)
44. Buddy Guy, countless times at Buddy Guy’s Legends, Chicago, ’95-‘04
45. Billy Corgan at the Hideout, Chicago, ‘01
46. Soul Coughing at Double Door, Chicago,’98
47. Verbow at Double Door, Chicago, ‘99
48. Beastie Boys, A Tribe Called Quest at Target Center, Minneapolis, ‘98
49. The 4th Waltz: Nick Tremulis w/ Steve Earle, Graham Parker, Sonia Dada, Ronnie Spector, Billy Corgan, Jon Langford, Alejandro Escovedo, David Amram, John Sinclair & more at Metro, Chicago, ‘02
50. Sonic Youth, Guided By Voices, Waco Brothers, Bob Mould in the parking lot at Finkl & Sons Steel Company, Chicago, ‘02
Geesh. That's an honest process right there. I'm already thinking of great shows absent from the list, but honoring the spirit of it, no edits can be done. It is what it is. Adding a couple photos now and I swear, no revisions will be made to the list. You wanna make a list? Hit me with it - I'd love to ask about some of your shows. As James Brown said, "Hit me one time! Aaaow!"
The cat update: bad news, Rosie is still dead. Good news, no animals have dug her out of the yard. I would like a new cat, Jessica would not. Looks like maybe we'll get a couple turtles. Maybe we can name them Cuff and Link, like Rocky's turtles.
In NFL quarterback news, Michael Vick was interviewed on 60 Minutes the other night and while he did his best to give the interview his all-star team of media relations and image experts have coached him to, nothing about his demeanor convinced of anything. Sure, he expresses regret about having spent his first pro signing bonus on a multi million dollar dogfighting compound and running it for seven years while torturing and murdering (who will ever know how many) dogs; he will be a very public ambassador for the Human Society, speaking to kids and so forth. Those things are wonderful at face value and his verbiage may work in text, but watching Vick speak, his body language and facial expressions convince me me that nothing he says is sincere on any level, not even the "Lie to me because I want to watch you on SportsCenter every week but I just need to see you sell it well enough that I can in turn lie to myself about your sincerity so I can respect myself in the morning much in the same way I tell the wife I was at ESPN Zone with the fellas when in reality I was getting lap dances and maybe a hand job in the champagne room and rationalize it as a victimless crime" level. He is only concerned about striking while his earning potential iron is still hot, which, as a skill position player at 29 going on 30, can mean 3-8 years. If he plays his cards well enough to stay in the NFL and earn an annual salary with two commas each year, he's set for life. That's all Michael Vick cares about. The Eagles signed him and despite my long standing man-crush on Eagles QB, model citizen and athlete (and Chicago native and Syracuse alum) Donovan McNabb (who Vick will be backing up), my affinity for the Eagles' head coach Andy Reid who has been through some tough personal stuff and is my kind of coach, running back Michael Westbrook who is a class act (last year he downed a surefire touchdown on on the one yard line with nobody near him because it was late in the game, the Eagles had it wrapped up and he didn't want to rub it in), kicker David Akers who has helped my Fantasy Football teams over the years, cornerback Ellis Hobbs who put in some awesome years with the Patriots... what was I saying? Oh yeah. I used to like the Eagles, but not any more, at least not until their roster is free of Michael Vick.
In related news, Brett Favre just couldn't stand Vick taking the "I'm baaaaaaaack!" QB spotlight and despite having retired and un-retired twice in the last two seasons, he signed with the Minnesota Vikings today. Once again, Brett decides he wants to play after training camp has begun, pre-season games have been played, and his team d'jour has spent thousands of hours and millions of dollars planning for a season without him. I don't hate the Vikings or Brett Favre (hate is a strong word I normally only apply to things like Republicans, Nazis, rapists, child molesters, the likes of Michael Vick, and my employer), but as they compete in the same division as my co-favorite team the Chicago Bears, I look forward to the imminent Favre post-Week Nine physical meltdown and the associated unraveling of his locker room as teammates resent the soap opera their precious, delicate flower of a quarterback has brought into their world. But hey, the Vikes and the NFL will sell boatloads of purple #4 jerseys and the Metrodome now has eight guaranteed sell-outs this fall. On the upside, he now has a chance to set another NFL record:
NFL's All-Time Fumblers
1. Warren Moon - 161
2. Brett Favre - 157
3. Dave Krieg - 153
4. John Elway - 137
5. Kerry Collins - 127
Lastly, my cousin Paul is a big fat jerk. Last Saturday night, we talked on the phone and among the topics of conversation, I extolled the virtues of the Kitchen Aid Mixer. Among my gushing statements, "This is the greatest product of the modern era! If I was a celebrity and could only endorse one product, I'd endorse this one! For free! Making dinner rolls on the fly! Whipping up my famous Christmas Bread! Cakes! Muffins! Biscuits! Oh my goodness, it's the greatest thing EVER!" 
Paul asked why I don't have one and the two part answer began with having lost mine in divorce - don't bleed for me, readers, I got the dog - and ended with not being wise enough to spend an extra couple hunny on the Mixer instead of a nice dinner or concert tickets just one time. That was Saturday. I come home from work today and there's a Kitchen Aid Mixer on the porch. That little bastard. Now, if all the misfortune imaginable comes down on Paul and his family and they wind up destitute and shirtless... I'll feel bad, like that money may have saved the Maloneys of San Francisco, but I'll also be makin' some kick-ass bread with my Kitchen Aid Mixer, homeys! To My Cousin: Thanks, and also, It's On. It's on like Donkey Kong.
This is how they kill time at Jessica's place of employment.
Man, I wish I'd majored in Advertising... Also, Please enjoy this George Carlin transcript from 1999. Aaaaaaaaand... GFY.
Our cat died this week.
November 2005:
I'm not a cat guy, historically. I'm at one of my truck rental dealerships, about an hour north of Seattle. It's rain season. We're amidst some record 20something consecutive days of rain. This cat is out in the lot and I ask my dealers, Jack and Suzanne, what's up. They say she's been there for 3 weeks, apparently abandoned, not by someone in the apartment complex next door (they'd canvassed) but presumably by a truck rental customer who maybe couldn't take the cat to wherever they were moving. 
I recall this moment succinctly, feeling that life was presenting me with a chance to go against my own personal grain for the right reasons. There's a K-Mart next door. I walk over and buy a pet carrier. Jack, Suzanne and I spend the next hour and a half getting this incredibly feisty feline into the box. They wish me luck and assure that I will need it.
Whew! I get in the car, call home to advise of our new situation. Jessica, my remarkable girlfriend, had just moved in with me a month ago, so I can only imagine she was still in the early stages of getting accustomed to life with a Maloney (we're a lot of things, but we're far from easy). She says, "A cat? You hate cats! Okay, whatever happens, this is your responsibility. What are you, testing yourself? What the f**k? Should I even believe this? Did I mention you hate cats?" Yes, dear. (Jessica would soon emerge as the world's greatest pet mom, and this was among the early signs that my behavior isn't predictable enough for comfort - she endures, she's a keeper).
First Two Weeks
We decide to name her Rosalita. Why not? It's a great song by the Boss, about a girl whose personality seems to match this cat. For short, we can call her Rosie, as Bruce does in the song. We phase her into co-habitation with my dog, Champ. Cat stays in bedroom, door closed, we place cat toys in dog's area, dog toys outside bedroom door for cat to smell, and eventually let them co-habitate. She terrorizes him so badly (he's five times her size) that he chews most of the door frame apart in an effort to escape whatever brand of whoop-ass she brings while we're at work. We normally come home to Champ crying and Rosie saying, "What? I'm a cat." 
Whatever we do, she escapes and goes outside. The blind lady next door helps me find her the first time. We accept that despite her lack of front claws (that's how we found her), she simply needs to go outside. She's the same with collars, doesn't like 'em. Putting a collar on her is a battle, and when we succeed, we find it in the yard later. Tough broad, this Rosie. But her tender side shows at home. We love her.
November 2005 - August 2009:
Rosie practices her role as Bad Ass Cat. Examples:
Pizza - Jessica is eating a slice of pizza, Rosie jumps and swipes it right out of her hand.
Cheeseburger - our local bar has a peanut butter & bacon burger, which frightens me until this one night, after a couple beers I get one to go, take it home, put it on a plate, leave the burger for about 30 seconds and return to see Rosie on the floor, eating my burger. God damn cat.
Neighbor's Bulldog - corners Rosie and growls. Mistake. One of Our Cat's rear paws swings around, swipes the dog in the nose, dog runs home crying with bloody nose. Cat looks at me as if to say, "any questions?" Luckily, neighbor and owner of dog says, "no worries, that's what [dog] gets for f***ing with a cat."
Birds - Rosie has brought a few birds home. We come home, she's trotting along the yard with a bird in her mouth, she places it down in front of us like it's a trophy. We feel bad for the bird(s), but we understand.
One night, Jessica was out of town and I heard a raucous in the kitchen around 6am. Sounded like a couple large animals fighting feverishly, slamming against cabinets, knocking things over, etc. I sprung out of bed, ran into the kitchen and saw a much larger animal - maybe a large cat, maybe a squirrel or raccoon, I'm not sure - diving out of the window we keep open for Rosie to come and go as she pleases during the day. Rosie is sitting calmly in the center of the kitchen floor and looks at me as if to calmly say something between "all in a day's work" and "nothing to see here, move along now." Fucking awesome cat.
Notoriety - Jessica and I threw a Christmas party a couple years ago, the Stranger (Seattle's weekly paper) covered the occasion and mentioned the cat. Click here. 
The End
Monday
We last saw Rosie when we fed her Monday, 7am. She didn't come home that night which is unusual, but it has happened.
Tuesday
She's not waking us from outside at 4am, 5am, 6am... something's wrong. After work, Jessica and a friend canvass and spread flyers while I work the Internet.
Wednesday
We learn that a cat was found dead by a neighbor c. 10am Monday and taken to the neighborhood vet. The description fits. The vet has mistakenly let a cremation service pick her up. The cat will be brought back to the vet tomorrow. Jessica brings some hair from the death site home and it matches perfectly to Rosie's in terms of length and where black turns to white.
Thursday
Jessica makes a positive ID and takes her home. I come home and we bury her.
Cause of Death:
We can't assess the cause of death based on her physical position because we estimate she was contorted in the process of being transferred several times. There are no visible signs of her having been attacked. Her face appears somewhat relaxed, not in a state of panic but not entirely serene, either.
We figure she either ate something (maybe pesticide-treated grass, maybe part of a bird) or was hit by a car, and in either case she knew she was seriously injured or dying. The neighbor who found her said she appeared to be trying to get under the house. Cats normally prefer to die alone, they hide, probably a combination of pride and an understandable desire to go in peace. She knew she was in trouble and hadn't quite arrived at the place she was trying to crawl to.
Last Photo (taken a week ago)
Conclusion:
What can you do? She died as she lived, tramping around the neighborhood, defying all the rules a cat with no front claws should, pushing the envelope. We found her almost four years ago and she certainly would not have lived much longer if we hadn't taken her in. It's sad that she's gone, but we have to appreciate the lease on life she got from us. I've known all along that an outdoor cat doesn't normally die of old age or natural causes, more likely she just doesn't come home one day. Not that we think of that any morning when she leaves with us, we go to work and she to the great outdoors, wondering "is today the day she doesn't make it back?" She was a bad-ass, resilient cat who has successfully defended herself against much larger cats, dogs, squirrels, and has taken home some trophies (birds). She surfed the rooftops and car ports, galloped in and out of the yards, wrought a harmless brand of entertaining havoc on the neighborhood, and on Monday her number simply came up. It happens to us all, at one time or another we've all got to go. We don't always have the luxury of knowing in advance. Of course we don't, because of course we'd alter our plans to avoid it.
CLICK HERE FOR ROSIE'S PROPER TRIBUTE
The NFL pre-season is about to begin. Normally at this time of year, we football fanatics are talking about rookies, off-season free agent pick-ups and our upcoming Fantasy drafts like a bunch of Trekkies geeking out over a Shatner sighting. Instead, what are the Top Three stories in football today? Plaxico Burress is heading to trial for shooting himself in the leg with a concealed weapon in a Manhattan nightclub, Ben Roethlisberger stands accused of rape by an ugly chick in Reno, and Michael Vick just got out of the slammer after serving two years for owning and operating a dog fighting compound. Plaxico is a thug and a loser, and I don't care what happens to him. Of course my opinion is not swayed by the painful memory of being at the Super Bowl and watching him catch the game-winning touchdown that killed the Patriots 19-0 season like a poison-dipped dagger through the heart of New England. [hanky, please] As for Big Ben, the fact that the allegation was issued in a civil court but no criminal charges are being filed makes it hard to take seriously. Now, the Michael Vick case...
As a dog owner, I personally think the most suitable penalty for the atrocities of Michael Vick and anyone who has participated in dog fighting would be to chain him to one of the poles they chained the dogs to, slap some peanut butter on his gender-defining parts and let the alpha dogs have their way with him for a while. Someone on a message board made an interesting point, challenging our society giving the green light to slaughter cows and other animals for food, while dogs are protected. Maybe it's that dog meat isn't as abundant a source of food for mass consumption (Chinese restaurant jokes are not being accepted at this time), maybe it's that they're trainable as domestic pets and companions, maybe a bit of both. But it remains that in our society, in a third world country with a more sophisticated set of social and behavioral standards and mores than most, dog fighting is a reprehensible and illegal, felonious activity.
Yes, Michael Vick served his time. Sure, he has the right to make a living, not necessarily in the NFL but somewhere. Certain crimes are simply deemed reprehensibly inhumane in our society. Child molesters also have a right to earn a living after they've served their time. Would you hire a child molester or child pornographer? How about a rapist? Would you patronize a business that does? Child molestation/pornography, rape, and dog fighting are not the same thing, but they have some things in common, chief among them the practice of preying on and inflicting viscous, long-term physical and psychological damage to defenseless beings, essentially murdering them and given that they must carry the abuse around for the remainder of their days, perhaps some victims would actually prefer death.
I try to support the notion that Vick should have the opportunity for a future in the NFL on the basis that he served his time and is now a free man. If he's still good enough to compete, I say let him play and let whichever team signs him deal with the imminent backlash from its community, PETA, and anyone else. I just don't want to see him playing for one of the teams I follow and support, those being the Patriots and Bears. I like to estimate that much of the quarterback-hungry defensive lineman and linebacker population are dog owners who love their four-legged companions like their children, like I love my dog. It stands to reason that should he find himself playing on Sunday afternoons, Mike Vick just might enjoy the business end of some street justice on the gridiron. I'm not advocating dirty play here - hit him clean, but hit him with everything you've got, hit him so hard his family feels it. Then help him up, pat him on the duff, and on the next play, do it again. Repeat until desired result.
I personally think the only thing Michael Vick regrets is having blown dozens of millions in potential earnings. He'll never understand what he and his scumbag friends did to those dogs until he endures the same treatment. Get that mother f***er on the rape pole and see how he likes it. Does that sound harsh? It's no more so than what they did to the dogs.
Come on over, Mike. I've got a pole, a chain, some pissed off canines who haven't eaten in days, and some Skippy. Come to Da Jesus! We gonna party, baby! Woooooo!
Those words were on the license plate cover of the guy in front of me in traffic this morning. I was merging left into his lane with plenty of room and the blinker on, and he proceeded to speed up to not let me in. A block later, he quickly changed lanes (no blinker) to cut one guy off, sped up in front of the car that was previously in front of him, jerked his car back into the original lane (no blinker), cutting that guy off and then banged a left into a parking garage (no blinker). Maybe his blinker was broken, along with his brakes and his left arm which would have allowed for hand signals. Maybe he's a douchebag. As a guy chooses to display his heritage association like that and then chooses to drive like a jackass, I can only validate his efforts by playing into his hand and estimating that Norwegians are douchebags. Hey, don't look at me, pal. This is clearly what this morning's a**hole wants me to think. I don't even know where Norwegia is, man. Are the bars open late there? How's the public transit? Are the winters cold? When a guy there sees a nice looking girl, does he get Norwegian Wood?
In related news, I'm no economist or health care expert, but what's the beef with national health care? I hear two principle arguments from the right. [1] It doesn't work in Canada or in Europe. My answer: maybe it's not being done well in those places. To those nations I say, My president is smarter than yours, and I'd like to give it a shot. The other argument is the same old tired GOP snobbery, [2] "We (rich people) work hard for our money and we don't need the national health care. Why should people who make the most money be penalized by paying into a national health care program for the poor?" Well... 26.5 million people in the U.S. are without health care. That's about 8% of the population. 1.5% of Americans earn more than $100g per year. For the upper 1.5% to pay into the program, I can't imagine they'll suffer any noticeable lifestyle adjustments as a result, and it certainly doesn't outweigh the benefit of the 26.5 million people gaining access to doctors and medicine. I was in a light-hearted debate with a high school classmate who makes a living as a Republican and his contention was, "If you raise my taxes, I have to decrease my spend, and that's bad for the little guy because I may have to cut back on landscaping and gardening, or charitable contributions." Yeah, like anyone from the "my house (penis) is bigger than yours / he who dies with the most toys wins" school of thought will let the curb appeal of his yard go to hell, or exit the black tie charity ball circuit used by rich people as a tax write-off and shameless attempt at soul-scrubbing. Please. The upper 1.5% won't decrease their spend. They'll decrease their save. And they'll still have plenty of money to retire on while the rest of us are still working. In a land where 10% of the population owns 71% of the wealth, the top 1% controls 38% and the bottom 40% owned less than 1% of the nation's wealth, the notion of the wealthiest people paying a few hundred more in taxes doesn't exactly yank on my heart strings. Besides, when we pay taxes we pay for all kinds of things we don't personally use, like public schools our kids (if we have them) don't attend, roads we don't drive on, streetlights/cleaning/maintenance for those roads, parks we don't use, etc. Cry me a river, you rich bastards.
Despite how this entry may read, I'm actually in a pretty good mood today.
Went to my first soccer game today. Jessica scored the tickets so Thanks Be To Her, For She Rocks. Hi, my name is Eric and I am now a soccer fan. ["Hi, Eric!"]
Historically, I'm not a soccer guy. I played football from ages 9-19 and I love The Game. I've always respected soccer and its players on conditioning alone, and while I don't have the same need for constant action and a lot of scoring as most Americans, still, soccer has passed me by. It seems like the U.S. flirts with the sport every few years. There was the pro league in the 70s, Pele played in it and most teenage girls in the NY-NJ area had photos of the New York Cosmos on their 
bedroom walls, but it didn't last. We hosted the World Cup in '93 or '94 at the Meadowlands, I was living in Jersey at the time and there was a somewhat calculated and harnessed attempt at a soccer craze here in the Lower 48, but that didn't last, either. A couple weeks ago, the U.S. beat Spain in a huge upset and that caused many of us to take notice. The MLS is currently in 16 major U.S. markets. I don't know how attendance fares in each city, but I do know the New England Revolution doesn't draw more than 10-12,000 to their games and I've heard that's representative of the crowds these events tend to attract. That is sad.
The Seattle Sounders FC is extremely popular in the Emerald City. It's not a huge market - at a half a million and change, Seattle ranks 23rd or 24th in population among U.S. cities. Every Sounders home game has sold out at 32,000. Next week, the 300-level will be open at Qwest Field when the Sounders host a friendly match vs. Chelsea FC. 65,000 seats. Sold Out.
Why is soccer so popular in Seattle? Perhaps, between the NBA franchise (Sonics) being relocated to Oklahoma City last year and the lack of an NHL franchise, the sports fans of this town will grab onto anything. This is also at least among the best-attended markets for women's flat track roller derby and the WNBA, not to mention the market with the most advance season tickets sold for its franchise of the Lingerie Football League (sorry, kids, I draw my line at linking to that shameless T&A circus).
Is Seattle simply THE market for alternative anything, including major league sports? It may stand to reason so, especially as we acknowledge the city's chosen preference for independent arts and culture. 
Indie record labels and bands, fringe theater, burlesque, cabaret, experimental music and performance art all thrive here. Chain restaurants don't have nearly the same presence here as in other cities. Although the MLS success could become another example of the rest of the nation getting hip to something Seattleites were onto months or years ago, I don't think the answer is even that complicated. The real reason?
Soccer is awesome. For many reasons. Admittedly, we had great seats today:
The crowd was fully engaged in the game. Unlike Mariners and Seahwaks games, where Seattle people try (a little too) hard to be sports fans, shouting things they've heard at sporting events while inserting the verbiage in ways that are just enough out of context that it just sounds and feels weird, these Sounders fans were IN the game all day long. The energy here is that of a big-time college football game, 100% of the fans on their feet 100% of the time, cheering like crazy, waving flags, each end of the stadium chanting call-and-response all afternoon, fans harassing the 
opposing goalie precisely as well as the Wrigley Field Bleacher Bums heckle every visiting outfielder. Also, unlike Mariners and Seahwaks games, where the fans need to take their collective cue from the Jumbotron which leads the masses in such chants as "I-chi-ro!" and "De-Fense!" Sounders fans get no such directions. They don't need 'em. They're into the game, reacting to what's happening on the field and not looking to the big screen for instructions. Confetti, streamers and such are thrown all over the field. It's delightfully chaotic, it is.
Soccer is a bad-ass sport for a few reasons. Each team is only allowed three substitutions per match. Sure, this blows for the back-ups. But for a sport which calls on virtually every player to be on his feet and covering ground that's larger than a football field for 90 minutes without a break, this is purely bad-ass. Because of the 3-sub limit, you see guys getting their bell rung, tweaking their knees and ankles, and to avoid wasting the substitution they walk it off and eventually get back in the game. In related news, once a player leaves the game for a substitution, he can't re-enter the match. Unsportsmanlike Conduct sort of exists but is very rarely called. The match is played on running time, 45 minutes per half and the clock does not stop even when the action does. Any injury-related downtime is tallied by the officials and at the end of each half, the game clock stops and the remaining time is flashed once on the Jumbotron (for example, "4:00 left to play") and that's it - you don't get a live clock for the remaining time. The officials have it, and they blow the whistle to end the half or the match when the time comes. In a one-goal or tie match, this makes for some serious tension. This used to be my primary beef with soccer, but having attended a close match between two good teams, I find this extremely interesting and exciting, an attribute that skews closer to the artistic than to the scientific, which I think is good - maybe not in all sports, but in this one, Yes.
People, I am a believer. Soccer is a great sport, the athleticism is impressive and dynamic, the tension is bold and the excitement is lightning in a bottle. I will definitely attend another Sounders FC match or two this season, accessibility to tickets permitting, and I will absolutely get a 5-game package next season.
p.s. Drew Carey owns the team! You gotta problem with that?
I'm sure everyone is weighing in on the death of Michael Jackson, who passed earlier today of cardiac arrest in Los Angeles at the age of 50. Here are my thoughts.
As a kid, I was in a band. We called it Sookin Sinn, Russian for "son of a bitch," so said our awesome guitarist Jake, who would later play on Duran Duran and Collective Soul records, never mind being in a respectably successful funk-power-pop band of his own, Two Ton Shoe. They are loved in Korea. I'm not joking. Look it up. Our drummer Jason went on to play in the modifierS, the best god damned garage band this side of the Replacements, period. They played Lollapalooza at RFK Stadium in '95 and they rock. The rest of us went on to lives of passionate music appreciation. Pete (keys) is a doctor with a lovely wife and baby. Seth (vocals) owns and operates a high-end grocery in D.C. and also has a beautiful family. Me, I bitch a lot but my life is somewhere north of marvelous. The Sookin Sinn Alumni Club is a distinguished group of gentlemen, indeed. At our sixth grade graduation, we played "Beat It" which had been at the top of the charts for a few weeks and was absolutely the most enormous, galvanizing, if-you-live-on-Earth-you-hear-this-song-every-day-and-it's-your-favorite song of our short lifetime. Since then, I'll give you all the "Hey Ya"s and "Crazy"s you want, those songs are great and they were huge. But they were not Michael Jackson 1983 huge.
Say what you may about Michael Jackson. Certainly, he was a WEIRD guy. Fame causes ANYONE to either freak out or become a freak. Even the stars we think are normal, are not - they just have the right people around them managing their public image and protecting their privacy. Was he a pedophile? How can we know? He was never convicted, but then, as we've seen (refer to previous entry below) money can buy a guy outta anything. In this, the information age, if he was guilty, I'd suspect plenty of evidence would have leaked long ago. In the absence of anything tangible, I can't factor the notion into MJ's legacy. And so we turn to his artistic contribution, which has influenced not only popular music but also the cultural landscape of the world in which we live. As a pre-pubescent five year-old, he sang like an r&b journeyman. As an adult, he sang like a barely pubescent newcomer. As a singer and performer, Michael Jackson's musical catalog and cultural influence will go down alongside those of Elvis Presley and Frank Sinatra. Rest Well, you King of Pop.
Watch these now.
Jackson 5 - Ed Sullivan Show, 1970:
"Billie Jean" at the Motown 25th Anniversary Celebration:
Best Moonwalk Clip Ever:
Chicago cop Anthony Abbate beat the crap out of a female bartender when she refused to serve him more alcohol, the whole thing was caught on tape, he pleaded self-defense, got 2 years probation and is appealing on the grounds that his sentence is unjust.
Cleveland Browns WR Donte' Stallworth killed a guy while driving drunk at 7am in his Bentley (he blew a .126 BAC, well above the legal limit of .08) and was sentenced to 30 days in jail (after writing a check with two commas to the victim's family).
A prostitute/junkie was hired by a john for sex and smack. She shot him up, he overdosed and died, she got sixteen years.
The guy who stole Lance Armstrong's bike was sentenced to 3 years in prison.
No, I didn't drink a bunch of booze last night. I was sick, canceled my bi-weekly DJ gig because of it, took a late afternoon nap, got a pay-per-view movie (Taken - good flick) and stayed up late reading half of Jay Mohr's interesting and good book, Gasping For Airtime. I banged out the second half today at the dog park while Champ enjoyed a 2-hour game of "chase the other dogs." I'm admittedly a fan of both Jay Mohr and Saturday Night Live. If you know me, you know me as a stand-up fan. I won't issue a Top Ten here and now, but let's assume that Carlin, Pryor and Murphy are among The Ten. So is Jay Mohr - he's got great stuff, relevant, timely, real, open, no-holds-barred stuff. If you're even casually interested in Jay, SNL, or stand-up comedy, his book is a must-read. It's not simply a tell-all, absolutely not a tabloid bag of dirt, it's just one guy's account of two years as a Not Ready For Prime Time Player. And, my childhood friend Steve Lookner, who was a writer on the show for a couple years and was nice enough to bring me to an episode and after-party in February '94, gets some sweet ink.
The Hangover is currently in theaters and YOU BETTER GO SEE IT. I'd like to call this a Top Ten All-Time Comedy. As my cousin Paul (asshat) has previously dubbed me the King Of Hyperbole, I'll instead declare it The Best Comedy Since Wedding Crashers. This movie is unbelievably funny. I went alone and I suspect I'll go again once or twice more while it's still in theaters. The official website, chock full of trailers and info, can be found right here. Not sure where and when it's playing in your area? Visit your new friend, Mr. Movie Time and find out. Now you have no excuse. And, You're Welcome for both the movie tip and for the Mr. Movie Time link. Don't mention it. It's what I do, baby.
Golf is an impressive and demanding game of skill, concentration, focus, determination, and a host of other things. But it is not a sport. It just isn't physical enough - you only sweat because it's hot out and you're outdoors in sunny weather for a few hours. There just isn't enough injury risk - you can pull a muscle but only with the same risk associated with walking down the stairs or taking out the garbage. It doesn't require any reflex reaction - nothing is coming at you. There is no athletic interaction with your opponent - your opponent isn't forcing anything into your personal space. In order for me to consider it a sport, at least some of these items must be in place. Look, there's a reason only a handful of people are truly great at golf, and I respect the hell out of that. I could say the same of many other non-sport physical activities, like table tennis or power walking. The fact that ESPN gives it a lot of airtime is only a reflection of viewership demographics. After all, that network also gives airtime to poker. In my estimation, synchronized swimming and figure skating are closer to being sports than golf will ever be. Unless they add some kind of Terry Tate, Office Linebacker into the mix.
Caddyshack and
Happy Gilmore are awesome movies.
Rounders is also an awesome movie, but also not about sports.
In a New York Times article, it was announced today that the Supreme Court voted in favor of allowing Alaska to deny convicts the right to DNA testing to prove their innocence during the appeals process, even if the technology didn't exist during the original trial and even if the testing applies to new evidence post-trial. While the decision states “DNA testing has an unparalleled ability both to exonerate the wrongly convicted and to identify the guilty,” it also maintains that it is not so much up to the Federal courts as it is to the state legislatures to establish rules “to harness DNA’s power to prove innocence without unnecessarily overthrowing the established criminal justice system.”
Of course! Why on earth would we want to rely on scientific evidence with an infinitesimally small margin of error when we can keep more justice in the hands of how good a show the attorneys put on for the jury? [/sarcasm]
In related news, in an effort to not unnecessarily overthrow the previously established communications system, all phone lines, cell phone satellites, and electronic channels such as the Internet will be taken down to let the Pony Express do its thing.
Quoting the Times, Since 1992, 238 people in the United States, some who were sitting on death row, have been exonerated of crimes through DNA testing. In many of those cases, the DNA testing used to clear them was not available at the time of the crime.
The decision seems to have been made without much gravity, with the High Court figuring as Alaska is one of only four states denying convicts access to DNA testing - the other three being Alabama, Oklahoma, and Massachusetts - on a nationwide scale, not too many innocent convicts will rot in their cells while cheap, simple, accessible and uniquely precise evidence is out there to possibly exonerate or confirm guilt. With 46 states doing the right thing, maybe the Court wanted to level the playing field so the state-to-state balance between Fairness and Douchebaggery wouldn't be so slanted?
Here are the five a**holes who decided convicts should not have access to DNA testing in their appeals: Chief Justice John G. Roberts, Antonin Scalia, Anthony M. Kennedy, Clarence "okay, who put the pube in my coke?" Thomas, and Samuel A. Alito Jr. In shocking news, all five of these jerks are conservatives who were appointed to the Court by Reagan and the Bushes.
The four dissenters, who figured access to the most reliable, cheap and accessible scientific evidence might be a good thing, are: John Paul Stevens, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Stephen G. Breyer and David H. Souter. These four are known as the liberal wing of the Court.
I don't want to get all good guys / bad guys on you here, but I'm confidence you can do the math.
It can't be a coincidence that the Alaskan convict whose appeal inspired this decision is a scumbag who has heard the words "may the defendant please rise" before, or that the victim was a prostitute. If justice is in fact blind, none of that should matter, but I'm placing my chip on It Did Here. I guess if you're going to be wrongfully convicted, try and make sure you don't not do the crime in Alaska, 'bama, Massachusetts or the Sooner State.
Reading the Times article, as Bob Dylan once sang about another pig-circus, "Couldn't help but make me feel ashamed to live in a land where justice is a game."
A text-only edition of what's kickin' around between my ears:
Reminiscing... I've been DJing for 13-14 years now. In the beginning, we'd rent space in a Chicago high-rise. "We" means my brother Ed and cousin Paul, our buddy Fran and our buddy Seth. We called these occasions "Party in the Penthouse Suite" which was half of the top floor at 2800 N. Lakeshore Drive, the other half being the home of Hugh Hefner's daughter, Christine. We always invited her but she never stopped by. We'd stock the bar, make and pass out flyers, and charge no cover. Ed would get all the House of Blues people out and he'd tend the bar, sometimes walking across the bartop, pouring a bottle of pre-mixed shots down the throats of anyone who tilted their head back and opened wide. As a resident of the building, Seth got the room cheap and as a sports broadcast agent he knew a lot of people. Paul worked the room as a sort of party catalyst, and he knew all the smart kids from Northwestern through his job. Fran was Fran and no occasion is the same without him. He wandered around like Cosmo Kramer. And I'd play the music, which at the time meant toggling between two CD players with a regular hi-fi system and my cousin Tricia's huge speakers which she'd handed down to Paul - ah, the days when speakers were heavy furniture... These parties were packed, even in 40-below January weather, the kinds of parties people talked about for weeks after the fact. I'm happy now and I'm not interested in playing Monday Morning Quarterback with my life, as are Ed, Paul, Fran and Seth, but to coin a phrase... Those Were The Days. Nostalgia is a delicacy, best enjoyed in small doses, absolutely delightful when properly applied.
What else is on my mind? I've always loathed the "dear diary" style blogs but as I normally post when something is figuratively up my ass, every so often I'll post some random notes just to remind the Internet I'm still tickin'.
Prince - one of my favorite recording artists for enough reasons to justify another post on another day. But, I've got a bone to pick with one one of his most celebrated lyrics: "Electric word, Life, It means forever and that's a mighty long time." Look, Prince... I trust Webster - not the little kid from the t.v. show in the 80s, but the dictionary - and while they offer twenty definitions of the word, none of them come close to "forever."
http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/life
Sorry, Prince, you done been schooled.
80s Nostalgia has lasted longer than the 80s did. I was 9-19 years old during that decade, i.e. my formative and young adolescent years, so I'm cool with it. Revisiting the popular culture of your youth is fun, but the real value here (for me, anyway) is that this trend has afforded me the benefit of discovering and enjoying many things I missed at the time, particularly music and film.
Best Buy commercials - the ones with the store employees in the foreground - why do they all have Jazz Hands? Annoying. I still like Best Buy, though. I just wonder, with Circuit City out of business, do these guys need to spend the dough on advertising? I mean, if Pepsi went under, wouldn't Coke roll back its ad budget? Best Buy - save your money, you're the only show in town now, it's all good.
Law & Order is an awesome show. I know I'm very late to this party, but to quote my brother after many shots at a Shane MacGowan show at the Metro in '95, "I'm not the smartest guy in the tree, but f**k you!" We know what it means, but we don't, and we digress... I prefer the Criminal Intent series with the delightfully bizarre Vincent D'Onofrio, but I also dig the series with Ice-T and The Belz. I can even stomach the series with Chris Noth, whose Mr. Big character in the most annoying show of all time raised the bar pretty high for me on a personal level. The current incarnation with the great Chris Meloni and Mariska Hargitay is about to end, unless the show will re-up with its lead actors, but it's unlikely. What a great franchise of television, and these shows are on several times every night on various channels. If you find yourself bored, this is the cure.
The Stanley Cup is the greatest and most meaningful championship award for its sport. Period. Same trophy, all these years. Every player on every winning team has his name engraved on it. May they never run out of room for the players' names.
Jonathon Papelbon was fined by the continually misguided Major League Baseball for "slow play" which would be called "delay of game" in other sports. Among the funnies here are:
1. Papelbon is among the few relief pitchers who actually RUNS from the bullpen to the infield, and his set-up is not long.
2. $1g? Pro ballplayers wipe their nuggets with thousand dollar bills. You want to change behavior? Do what the cops did to me last month and charge the equivalent of the average American's paycheck for driving 12 mph above the almighty speed limit. (not to WA State Patrol: I HATE YOU)
3. If MLB wants to start issuing these fines, they better start looking at the batters as well. I love Ichiro, but the dude takes longer than a commercial break to execute his ritual before every... single... pitch. Until some time in the 50s, there was a shot clock for hitters and pitchers like the one we know in basketball. If game length is important to you (it isn't to me), then bring that back.
I like the unpredictable nature of a ballgame's length. It's one of the things that makes the game what it is. It's chess and athletics with dashes of explosive heroics, impressive feats of physical skill, strategies and tactics. The game needs so much work in areas related to performance-enhancing chemicals, it kills me that a pitcher taking a couple seconds too long to throw a ball is accounting for any MLB attention. I'm sure the variable game length presents challenges to MLB's ad sales, but without delving into the matter I will assume on the record that figuring it out is an activity whose degree of complication resides far south of second-degree mathematics. So for cryin' out loud, guys, stop fining pitchers for taking too long, start defining your substance abuse policies and regulatory practices, because this nation of extraordinarily patient baseball fans just wants to start respecting the game again.
I'd similarly rant about the lack of a shot clock in golf, but as golf is not a sport, I don't give a s**t.
Honoring my text-only promise, get your (Fitzy's) Red Sox update here:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gTu-yDsuMhM
Aaaaaaaaaaaand... GFY.
Why won't football relic Brett Favre go away? He is one of the best ever, a thrilling, sandlot-style quarterback who has provided ESPN's SportsCenter with a seemingly endless reel of highlights. At 39, he can still be a serviceable, starting quarterback. Can he maintain a level of play long enough to lead a team into January? I say No, at least as much as his team would rely heavily on him after Turkey Day. Should a team pay the multi-million dollar, single-season fee for 
his services? I say No, but I guess it depends on what that team wants. If you estimate the incremental spike in box office and concessions revenue on your eight home games, plus whatever merchandising revenue comes with the #4 jersey sales will make Mr. Favre's salary a good investment, then I say go to town. I especially say "go to town" if you're convinced that the NFL is a "one-year league" as some sports journalists claim. Those claims are not without merit, as coaches and players in recent years have been fired, released, and traded at a record clip.
The Jets made the right choice by releasing Favre and drafting Mark Sanchez as their future QB. The odds of a #1 pick at QB becoming the future of the franchise are a well-documented long shot, but the odds of Favre being the future is a no-shot. This was not a particularly strong QB year in the draft, but the Jets had to do something and there weren't any young free agent quarterbacks available when they had to make their move.
So what's my point?
If you're Brett Favre, all you want to do is play, right? If it were that simple, I'd buy it. But it seems that at the end of each season, he intends to retire, then chooses to return, well after his team has made draft choices and trades (and the millions of bucks associated with those things) on the idea that he won't be there, well after his teammates have participated in team-organized off-season workouts, practices, pre-season activities and games. Essentially, he shows up just in time to glance at the playbook and walk onto the field for the season's first Prime Time Sunday.
Is yet ANOTHER Brett Favre return good for football? I say No, mostly because I like football and if football needs another late-coming, half-assed return from #4, then the game in a sordid state. And I watch enough football to know that is not the case.
Favre's return is said to be with the Minnesota Vikings. This turns my thoughts.
I AM SO GLAD THE BEARS GOT JAY CUTLER FROM 
THE BRONCOS - HE'S A FEROCIOUSLY TALENTED GAMER WHO GREW UP A BEAR FAN IN SOUTHERN INDIANA, A PROVEN COMMODITY AT THE AGE OF 25 - BEARS FANS, GET READY TO BE WATCHING THE MONSTERS OF THE MIDWAY WELL INTO JANUARY OF 2010...
As a Bears fan, I encourage his return. In the NFC North, as the Vikings QB he'll split with the Packers, sweep the Lions, and split with the Bears. The Bears will win the division by doing the same but sweeping the Packers. The NFC is stacked, and unless the Vikings can win the Division (they can't), their wildcard hopes are a pipedream.
Welcome back, Brett, you indecisive mother f***er!
A tragic but pedestrian level of crazy is manifest in the various types of people who walk the streets talking to themselves, sometimes shouting at other people, or cars, or just into the air. Then there's the chick who stands by the bus stop around the corner, high-stepping in place like she's trying to burn a few calories before hopping on the public transportation. But the Mac Daddy, 17th-degree black belt level of crazy comes in the form of people who lead seemingly normal lives - good job, clean clothes, stable residential situation and so forth - yet when they talk about a social issue, it becomes instantly apparent that they need to be fitted for a straitjacket ASAFP. Okay, folks. This video wasn't intended to be funny by its creators. However, you shall be prepared to laugh your fanny off.
I think somewhere in the Bible we'll find something like... and lo on the third day Jesus was resurrected and the lord hath spoketh to the assembled masses: "All fags and serpents shall be stricken from My world and doomed to an eternity of hellfire, for they hast forsaken my name, hallowed be it!"
This is one of the reasons I live in an urban environment. Nuts like this would be ridiculed right out of the neighborhood. Wackos. All of them. If there's a hell below, it is they who will go.
Short post, just to let all two of you know I'm still tickin'...
Sen. Tom Coburn (R-Okla.) is pushing a bill which would allow people to bring loaded guns into national parks and wildlife refuges. I don't even need to rant about this, right? This cat is f***in' nuts. In fact, rather than document the many fundamental reasons why Dr. (doctor?) Coburn is, as they say, "off the reservation" I'll just give you his U.S. Senate website. Despite the damaging material you'd find if my collegiate years occurred during the Internet era (whew!), this kind of stuff makes me seriously consider public service.
CLICK HERE TO READ THIS CRAZY MAN'S U.S. SENATE PAGE
Meantime, I can't recall why I titled this post "Donkeys." Who the hell knows.
This one'll ready like a diary entry. I'm not sorry I'm not sorry.
Jessica got her hair did, now rocking the pink highlights of old. I'd post a photo, but I'm at home and she's at an Atari tournament and I can't upload photos without her consent because I, like anyone who isn't nuts, value my nuts. My girl, she's as sweet as a perfect slice of pumpkin pie with Cool Whip on top. But you cross her, and may (insert your personal savior here) have mercy on your earthly soul, Jack! I kid. She's a strawberry cupcake. But I still ain't postin' no photos without no consent. High-five to me for the triple negative!
Saw the new Star Trek film. I'm not a big sci-fi guy, and decidedly not a big Star Trek fan, but this was a delightful cinematic experience. There seemed to be enough esoteric references for the hardcore fans of the franchise, while at once being totally accessible for people like me, who never really watched any of the t.v. shows and only saw one of the movies (The Wrath of Kahn, once, first run). If you're on the fence, or pining for a day at the movies, catch the matinee.
Seattle drivers continue to be the most painful bunch of undecided, passive-aggressive, wait-til-they're-in-the-intersection-before-hitting-the-blinker, not-in-a-rush-to-get-anywhere, texting-while-driving and otherwise not-paying-attention-to-what's-going-on-around-them pack of retards. My Fellow Seattlites, will you please start operating your vehicles in a manner suggestive of the notion that you've actually got a destination in mind and have a general idea of how to get there? F**k you in advance for not complying with this accessible request.
The new Bob Dylan album is awesome. Get it now. Trust me.
Fred Claus is a good movie. It's on cable a lot now. Watch it. Vince Vaughn, Paul Giamatti, Kevin Spacey, Kathy Bates, John Michael Higgins... great cast, good acting, a feel-good story injected with the priceless antics of Vince Vaughn... what more would you want, you selfish prick?
Saw an amazing concert last week. Bob Log III at the Crocodile Cafe. Picture this. One man band. The guy plays slide guitar with his hands, works a kick drum and a hi-hat with is feet, wears a skin-tight gold jump suit, a motorcycle helmet with a dark visor and a telephone receiver rigged in for a mic. He plays a style of blues that, if you close your eyes, takes you to a Mississippi front porch. He blends it with a performance style that recalls a genius and unlikely mix of recording artists T-Model Ford and the Jon Spencer Blues Explosion, with comedians Mitch Hedberg and Bill Cosby. I've seen plenty shows with various blends of good music, engaging energy, endearing comedic elements, and production value. Some shows are good enough to have some of those attributes. Few have them all. This Bob Log III, though... this is fresh, interesting, funny, compelling stuff. Bob had the audience riveted from beginning to end. The Stranger wrote an equally entertaining and appropriate review - click here to enjoy. Here's a couple minutes from the show:
Here are a couple photos from the crappy seats I had today at the Mariners game. Thanks to Big Sark for hooking up me and my boy Johnny (Sch)Litz who's visiting from San Diego. Warm summer day, cold beer, hot dogs, front row seats behind the plate for the National Pastime... there are about a million lesser ways to spend a Sunday afternoon.
What a glorious day it was. Info from recordstoreday.com:
*****
Conceived by [a few guys] as a celebration of the unique culture surrounding over 700 independently owned record stores in the U.S. and hundreds of similar stores internationally. Special vinyl and CD releases and various promotional products were made exclusively for the day and hundreds of artists made in-store appearances. Festivities included performances, cook-outs, body painting, meet & greets with artists, parades, and DJs spinning records. Metallica officially kicked off Record Store Day at Rasputin Music in San Franscisco last year and the annual event is now celebrated the third Saturday every April.
NOTE: A Record Store Day participating store is defined as a physical retailer whose product line consists of at least 50% music retail, whose company is not publicly traded and whose ownership is at least 70% located in the state of operation. (In other words, we’re dealing with real, live, physical, indie record stores—not online retailers or corporate behemoths).
*****
I hit Sonic Boom Records, a couple blocks from home. I've been going there weekly for three years and have not seen this many people on one occasion. Boxes of records everywhere. People milling about, fingering through titles, buying records, using a t-shirt iron-on machine. A DJ setting up, indie rock DJ Cheryl Waters from the world's coolest station KEXP. Plenty of staff on-hand to answer questions and help people find things. The staff at this store rocks, always playing cool stuff, always friendly and helpful, knowledgeable but honest about copping to what they don't know, always making sure you find what you're looking for and super cool about special-ordering titles they don't have, as I've experienced with a few titles in the past.
My Record Store Day booty:
My treasure trove of 7-inch vinyl includes:
MC5 - Kick Out The Jams b/w Motor City Burning - packaged in the original rare picture sleeve, first time available since 1969
Pretenders - new song + one unreleased song
Dylan - Dreaming of You /Down Along the Cove - recorded live at Bonnaroo '04; packaged in clear sleeve with 3x5 photo
Springsteen - new song + the unreleased "A Night With The Jersey Devil"
The Stooges - 1969/Real Cool Time - packaged in the original rare picture sleeve
Tom Waits - live tracks from Atlanta & Edinburgh
and and AND... While there, I picked up the new Wilco tour documentary DVD, Ashes of American Flags.
Aaaaaaaand... they gave me this full-length long-playing record!
It's got remixes of songs by Raphael Saadiq, MGMT, Franz Ferdinand, Black Kids, Willie Nelson, plus a live in-studio recording by Glasvegas and songs by Q-Tip, Tiempo Libre, Charles Mingus, Living Things, and Cage The Elephant. Free? DAMN!
Going to the record store is a cultural experience that can never be replaced by anything. Not by convenient online purchasing channels, lower prices, or anything. Like anyone in the 21st Century, I buy music online. Case in point: My 2am enlightenment that the 3-disc Queen Anthology needs to be on my shelf is a good idea but one which will die of old age even if I write it down and wait for the store to open at 10am (truth: I played "Flash" at my DJ gig last night and people LOVED it!). But, I buy most of my music at independent, locally owned stores. This behavioral habit is driven in equal parts by my preference to support local business and my need for the record store experience. If you haven't been into a record store in a while, and you like music even a little, even just enough to want the latest hits by Lady GaGa and Beyonce in your iPod, do it. You'll find that it isn't a novelty & nostalgia lark, like eating Tater Tots or wearing trucker caps (still crappy after all these years). It's the experience you wish had never left your weekly or monthly routine, and you'll delight in re-applying it. Maybe you build it into your budget, every Saturday, or every payday, or once a month, you go to the record store and spend $x or less. Live in the now. Still get stuff on iTunes or emusic or wherever. Just build the local record store into your diet. That's all I'm suggesting.
IN UNRELATED NEWS:
The New York Skankees got all Nancy Kerrigan on us today: "WHYYYYYYYYYYYYY??? WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY???" when they were bludgeoned to a baseball pulp by my new 3rd favorite team (after the Red Sox and Cubs) the Cleveland Indians. In the course of a 22-4 Indians victory, both teams set a host of inversely delightful records. In the second inning alone, the Tribe scored 14 runs on 13 hits and all nine of their players scored. As if the Bronx Bummers being on the business end of a 5-star beat-down ain't enough... this marvelous slice of Americana happened in the new Yankee Stadium. I'd feel bad for any other team this situation, but it's the Yankees, so... Welcome to your new digs, jerkoffs!
That's what I'd call the current goings-on. Yesterday, conservatives around the country protested the Obama administration's tax policy and related bailout and economic stimulus plans. In a way, I take pleasure in watching right-wingers being angry about such matters. Witnessing their shift from smug to angry, while they fearlessly brave the elements and exit the friendly confines of their climate-controlled SUVs in favor of making signs and organizing in public demonstrations, was quite delightful. I am proud of them. Quite frankly, I didn't know the Havemores had it in 'em. A hidden benefit here is that the occasion gave all those Ron Paul supporters something to do.
Six Things These Protesters Should Ponder:
1. Obama didn't create this clusterf**k inside of his first 100 days. The Republican-dominated Capitol Hill had eight years to cultivate this little masterpiece. Obama is stuck to clean up after them. Thanks, George. Hope your ranch hands are doin' right by ya.
2. Where were these people on the government spending issue when Bush was cutting checks of $300-600 for every American in 2001 and 2008? With 304M people and stamps at .42, the postage alone ran us more than $127M each time. Please, if they'd only given that money to the Red Sox, we'd have CC Sabathia AND Mark Teixeira.
3. The "liberal media" - conservatives rant about this despite the fact that while these protests of 150-200 people per city was front-page news in every paper and a lead story on every news program yesterday, Prop 8 protests of 5,000+ in major cities received very little coverage in local outlets and virtually none in the national news back in November.
4. Christian, my ass. Based on any poll identifying the Republican base, most of these loons would probably categorize themselves as Christians, a religion based on a guy who preached in favor of charity, collectivism, helping the poor, and what we'd later come to know as Marxism. I'd categorize Jesus as a Socialist before estimating that he'd equate taxing the rich as "punishing success and rewarding laziness." Christians are good people. Scumbags posing as Christians are just tarnishing the good name of bags of scum everywhere.
5. Public sector jobs are an overpaid pen-pushing scheme with gold-plated pensions? Really?As people complain about public sector employees being paid too much, I reflect on the ones I know and none of them make much money. I also notice that teachers, nurses, police and firemen aren't quoted much in the "liberal media" every time private sector income per capita increases while public sector pay increases at a rate far behind that of inflation (see, pre-summer 2007).
6. Let's admit that race has more than a little to do with the conservative outcries. It's no coincidence that the states who've mentioned a desire to secede - Georgia, South Carolina, Texas - are generally a bunch of ignorant white racists who are simply crapping their pants over having a black president. (look, without broad generalizations, Sociology wouldn't exist). I say let them secede, let 'em have a go at it, the public works industry, that is. Then they can fail, come running back to Daddy (his name is Barack Obama) and he can be too busy to help. Extra bonus with these states seceding: the median IQ and literacy rate of Americans will spike and our school system will rank higher in the global standings. You see, there's always a silver lining.
All that said, I think Timothy Geithner's wages should be garnished by the IRS. I believe he owes about $30g for the non-payment of self-employment taxes and penalties between 2001 and 2004. I owed a little more than one-tenth that amount for 2002 and 2003, and in '06 about 90% of my net paycheck was garnished without any notice. I immediately visited the Taxpayers Advocacy office at Seattle's Federal building, re-submitted a 1040 for each year, signed a one-pager agreeing to a monthly automatic debit payment plan, got my garnished pay back 2 days later, and paid them back in 2 years. Why can't something just like that happen to Mr. Geithner? I'm not calling for his head on a platter here. Just demanding he be treated like the U.S. citizen he is. Ironically, while any IRS employee who misfiles is terminated without appeal, as the Secretary of the Treasury, Timmy G. oversees the IRS. I do think that elected and appointed jobs of public service should come with perks - free steaks and cocktails, good seats to the ballgame, private jet travel, etc. (but not hookers - good god, man - behave!) - but this "do as I say, not as I do" business is a joke.
Great day at SafeCo Field for the Mariners home opener and the return of Ken Griffey Jr. Ed and I enjoyed front row seats, right on the visitors' dugout, courtesy of Big Sark. You see folks, it's not who you know, it's who we know. The M's won 3-2 in ten innings, improving their record to 6-2 and remaining in first place atop the AL West, their best start since 2001. It was a thrill to be present for Junior's return, and he had a nice day going 1 for 3 with a walk, a single on his first at-bat, and a marvelous slide into the second baseman which allowed the batter to reach first, keeping the inning alive while Ronny Cedeno scored the game's first run. Here's a short video of his first trip to the plate in the era I'm calling Griffey Redux, a moving welcome home ovation for the Kid with a classy wave and tip of the hat to the Seattle fans.
I occasionally (okay, daily) check out the blog With Leather: The Cleveland Steamer of Sports Blogs. For every handful of forgettable, sophomoric items, there's a gem to found there. The writing isn't anything a periodical would pay for, and it leans too heavily and too often on bikini-clad women for eye candy (not that there's anything wrong with that), but at least a couple times a week this blog makes me laugh. Here's one that made my morning a little more fun (the rest of this entry comes from withleather.com):
FRENCH BUST ARMSTRONG FOR SHOWERING
France’s anti-doping agency is at it again with Lance Armstrong, better known as The Only Reason America Pretends To Care About Cycling. Armstrong is now under fire for not respecting, uh, “the obligation to remain under the direct and permanent observation” of a doctor assigned to him on the day of a substance test. Creeeeeepy:
At question is a 20-minute delay when Armstrong says the tester agreed to let him shower while the American rider’s assistants checked the tester’s credentials. AFLD said cycling’s governing body has given its permission to open disciplinary procedures against Armstrong, but did not say what the punishment could be.
AFLD president Pierre Bordry noted that the statement does not say that Armstrong is guilty of an infraction. AFLD is expected to make a decision on whether to proceed with sanctions after its nine-member ruling committee has considered the tester’s report.
I have no idea whether or not Armstrong is dirty, but I respect the “game within the game” that PED testing has become over the past 20 years. If you don’t get caught, that’s as good as not having done it for me, since all these other clowns are out there shooting each other in the ass with who-knows what. Just because The White Barry Bonds doesn’t shave his legs and take part in their spandex circle-jerk doesn’t ruin his standing in a sport where he’s the only reason I even care. Besides, anything that annoys the French is automatically awesome.
Listening to a bit of the Cubs-Brewers game today on ESPN Radio, I heard two funnies by a pair of broadcasters whose identities I never got:
Announcer 1: "[so-and-so] was not even on the spring training roster, but he managed to make the team on the strength of his strength."
Announcer 2: "And he certainly has plenty of that."
Announcer 1: "[so-and-so] had Lasik surgery in the offseason, making his vision a perfect 20/20 without needing the contact lenses he's always worn on the field. The surgery literally saved his career."
Announcer 2: "And so far this season, he's 0 for 11 at the plate."
I don't even need to comment. The material just writes itself.
After much resistance, my cousin Paul (scumbag) convinced me to conduct a trial period as a member of the Twitterati. I've previously dismissed Twitter as a conduit of non-essential information. "Like I care that so-and-so is listening to the Cure and making French toast? Who has time for this stuff? Don't you people have jobs?" I'd say. Paul - dude, he's wicked smaht - suggested that if most of the content is indeed non-essential, the useful stuff can be quite useful and interesting, making a rewarding Twitter experience a matter of selecting the right people to follow. He also praised the value placed on brevity (never my forte) and simplicity (I do thrive in this area), as all posts are limited to 140 characters including links, and the content is as "tight and light" as it comes without the photos, videos, ads, and all the other white noise found on other social networking sites. So, Paul suggested I follow a certain author's Twitter activity (I still can't call it "tweeting"), and asked me to play along for a couple weeks and then re-visit the issue.
Despite my "non-essential information" criticism, I actually do find it nice to get these little updates. For example, I miss my old hometown Chicago, and reading that my friend Jennie started her day with some Dunkin Donuts (heavy on the sugar) made me smile, creating my own imagery of her easing into a Sunday morning that way, perhaps joined by her husband Jones, also an old friend who I miss, finally wondering if they eventually walked over to Durty Nellie's for some brunch.
After two days, so far, so good. A couple weeks from now, maybe I'll see Twitter as just another place to go online to find things which can be found elsewhere. Maybe it'll be a place to find unique items. Maybe the value of simple "what so-and-so is currently up to" paired with short statements and links to articles will retain my interest. Maybe it won't. Clearly, though, it's worth the trial period. I'll report back with my findings. In the meantime, you can find me here. Stand by.
“I’m not sure I can think of any scenario more enjoyable than making 55,000 people from New York shut up.”
- Curt Schilling
That’s my man right there. Never there was a more accountable "gamer." Good on you, sir, and Thanks for your time in my hometown. May you enter the Hall of Fame with a Red Sox cap on your head, as we who were born and raised there will not be the same but for how you've spent your time since 2003. Thanks again.
At the risk of turning this excuse of a blog into a celebrity happenings site, I am compelled to share this news item regarding the previously covered "ShamWow / Slap Chop" guy. I guess he got in trouble for having an altercation with a hooker in 
Miami. Wait... After nailing all the unsuspecting female victims in his hometown of Nowhere, Nebraska, a D- grade "celebrity" can only get action from a pro? I'm shocked. The funny part is, this skinny wannabe actor f**k didn't beat the hooker up. The hooker beat him up. In the words of Jeff Spicoli... Awesome! Totally Awesome!
Here's the story, as reported on The Smoking Gun:
MARCH 27--Meet Vince Shlomi. He's probably better known to you as the ShamWow Guy, the ubiquitous television pitchman who has been phenomenally successful peddling absorbent towels and food choppers. Shlomi, 44, was arrested last month on a felony battery charge following a violent confrontation with a prostitute in his South Beach hotel room. According to an arrest affidavit, Shlomi met Sasha Harris, 26, at a Miami Beach nightclub on February 7 and subsequently retired with her to his $750 room at the lavish Setai hotel. Shlomi told cops he paid Harris about $1000 in cash after she "propositioned him for straight sex." Shlomi said that when he kissed Harris, she suddenly "bit his tongue and would not let go." Shlomi then punched Harris several times until she released his tongue. The affidavit, a copy of which you'll find here, notes that during the 4 AM fight Harris sustained facial fractures and lacerations all over her face (she is pictured here in mug shots snapped following busts in 2008 and 2005). After freeing his tongue, a bleeding Shlomi ran to the Setai lobby, where security summoned cops. Harris refused to cooperate with officers, who recovered $930 from her purse. "Both parties had a strong odor of an alcoholic beverage emitting from their persons," police reported. In a brief telephone interview, Harris declined to answer TSG questions about her run-in with Shlomi, though she did say she is considering a lawsuit against the pitchman. Asked if she worked as a hooker, Harris declined comment. As seen in the below mug shot, Shlomi was also injured during the fracas and, court records show, was treated at Mount Sinai Medical Center. While Shlomi and Harris were both arrested for felony aggravated battery, prosecutors this month declined to file formal charges against the combatants. Police records list Shlomi's occupation as "Marketing," but make no mention of his affiliation with the ShamWow or the Slap Chop, both of which sell for $19.95 (plus shipping and handling).
The blog is sleeping... hoping to awake when the bailout insanity stops. Helping prop up the economy by staking failed corporate giants in exchange for nationalized interest and control is one thing. I'm for nationalization in cases like these, as long as the government exerts a control that's at least commensurate with its fiscal stake in the organization(s), and as long as there is an exit schedule to re-privatize the business with profitability thresholds, and lofty standards for the ownership parties replacing the government once the organization has grown a fresh set of sea legs. It's not fair, throwing financial flotation devices to large companies whose greed and irresponsibility got them (and us) here, when so many small and medium size businesses are operating above-board but don't get the same hook-up. But in the name of keeping most of us out of the bread line, perhaps it's necessary. This AIG business, however, is completely out of control.
Gov't: "Hey guys, you shamelessly bet it all on red 34 and lost. Thanks to you, the size of you, the unregulated irresponsibility of you, and how much the economy depends on you not screwing up this badly, we're in the HOV lane to Depressionville with the gas pedal glued to the floor. Here's $170 billion. Now we own 80% your ass. Don't spend it all in one place."
AIG: "Thanks, Uncle Sam! You don't mind if we give $165 million of it to our executives, you know, as a bonus for their, 2008, um, performance..."
Gov't: "Oh no you don't!"
AIG: "Well, um, we sort of already did. I mean, we promised that bonus money last year, before the economy crumbled. So these guys are, like, entitled to it? Maybe we can ask them to give half the money back?"
Gov't: [changing its underwear] "Uh, we're gonna have to get some rules in place here. Maybe we shoulda thought of that before giving you more money than the residents of an average U.S. town will collectively earn in a lifetime..."
What a clusterf**k. AIG's execs are the people who sent the whole s**thouse up in flames. Not only should they not be paid bonuses, their salaries should be rolled back and their compensation plan should be restructured into a more profit-based schedule. When you're at the helm, your financial success should rise and fall with that of your organization. Sure, a healthy base salary is in order. We all need a guaranteed income in exchange for showing up to work. But at the high levels of a large organization, compensation should be a back-end intensive deal. At my Fortune 500 company, not a single person was paid a bonus for 2008, all base salaries of $100g and up are frozen indefinitely, there's an indefinite moratorium on overnight travel expenses, and merit increases based on 2008 performance won't kick in until August. And we didn't lose much money, just a few million. We're just being fiscally conservative. And we're not a particularly wise organization. We're just not completely f***ing retarded.
When the blog awakes from this topsy-turvy nightmare, have a bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios ready for me, okay?
Mickey Rourke is a stud. The Pope of Greenwich Village has always been one of my favorite movies, and it has been interesting to casually observe the modest peaks and deep valleys of his career. He had a remarkable run early on, with Pope, Diner, Nine 1/2 Weeks, Angel Heart, and Barfly all released from 1982-1987. For the next 14-15 years, Rourke appeared in a lot of forgettable if not under-appreciated films. I personally enjoyed Johnny Handsome but I belong to a pretty exclusive club there. A real highlight was the delightfully dark character, The Cook, he played in Spun (2002). 2005's Sin City put him back on the mainstream map, but it was The Wrestler, released in late 2008, which launched Mickey Rourke back into the top tier of leading men where he belongs. What I also like about him, is what an insanely what-you-see-is-what-you-get mother scratcher he apparently is. Image awareness might mean less to him than to any other movie star we've seen. Anyway, here's a wonderful clip from the Independent Spirit Awards, where he accepted the Best Male Lead award. I don't know if he'll win the Oscar tonight - I'd like to say it doesn't matter, because in the ways that should count it doesn't - but as the most watched awards ceremony in the film industry, it would be a very nice touch to legitimize his career for the millions of people who'll only remember those who won the big trophy. Not that Mickey Rourke will feel any more or less legit as a result. Like any good artist, his fulfillment surely comes from the work itself. Still, it would be nice. Here's that clip:
That's what Rihanna, a pop artist I'd never heard of, just did a week after being allegedly slapped around by her boyfriend Chris Brown (another pop start I'd never heard of). Apparently, they were both slated to perform at the Grammys but both canceled the day of the annual music industry strokefest due to an (alleged) domestic dispute. With the world at the edge of its E! / ET / Celebreality seat, here's what this magnificent bimbette wasted everyone's time with, this E! News Now exclusive, the headline a deceiving "Rihanna Breaks Her Silence"
I guess technically, having your publicist issue a "no comment" on your behalf is kind of like breaking the silence, right? More like breaking wind. I'm glad I don't give a shit about the stormy, soap opera love lives of flash-in-the-pan celebrities, but now I feel bad on yet another level which transcends patheticism for those who do.
Ken Griffey Jr. is returning to the Seattle Mariners for a career-bookending swan song. In a city which just unwillingly waved goodbye to its 42-year NBA franchise, whose 2008 included a 4-12 NFL team, an 0-12 Pac-10 football team, whose baseball team lost 100 games, this news has Seattlites giddy like a pack of Swedish schoolgirls. And they should be. This is wonderful news for Seattle. Not only has the overall sports landscape been dark of late, but the major corporations in this town have sent dozens of thousands to the unemployment line. Microsoft, Starbucks and Boeing have each laid off a few thousand, Washington Mutual was bought out and 7,000 people at their HQ received pink slips in a single day. Other companies have laid off hundreds, as (for example) Verizon closed a 500-person customer service center. Small businesses are closing left and right. The state is even closing one of its biggest parks. Times is tough, peoples. So, Junior is back in town, you say? 
After playing his first 11 seasons here in the Emerald City, he spent 8 full seasons with the Cincinnati Reds and was traded to the Chicago White Sox late last season. With a career home run tally of 611, the first 398 happening in a Mariners uniform, Griffey reached the 400, 500, and 600 milestones in a Reds uniform. With a 62-game career average of 39 taters, it's (at the very least) admissible that his 20 years (to date) would have have rendered him the all-time home run king, but for the 8 or 9 partial seasons he endured due to injuries during prime years. Just look at these stats - look at the games played per year, and look at what he did in the full-time seasons right before and after those injury-riddled periods - I tell you, brothers and sister, it's CRAZY! Will a 39 year-old Junior go yard 40 times in '09? Probably not. 30? Well, that's in the cards, actually. Back in the American League, though the M's will sometimes play him in the outfield, he'll primarily be a Designated Hitter which will save his legs and sharpen his bat production.
SafeCo Field Attendance, Concessions, Jersey Sales, General Interest and the Local Economy will all grow. Bigtime. In '08, the Mariners were a pre-season contender for the AL West, but as the losing streak began right away and never let up, there were Saturday nights with 17,000 people in the stands (the ballpark holds 45,000). With Griffey on the line-up card, empty seats will not be a problem. The increased attendance will obviously send concessions, merchandise sales, and all the ancillary business around the stadium far north - the parking lots, bars, restaurants, retail... nothin' but sunshine for the local economy.
Lovefest '09. Griffey loves this town. He was married here, his kids were born here. This town loves Griffey. He's the greatest player Seattle has ever seen, and that includes all the visiting players. In this day of endless performance-enhancing-drug scandal, adultery among pro athletes as tabloid fodder, Junior's nose and image are clean. Between congressional investigations and hearings, reports, studies, ex-players naming names to secure their book deals... Griffey has never been named, nor has there been any evidence of steroid use in his play or stats, not to mention the fact that using would have helped him recover from his many injuries a whole lot faster, his size and speed would have grown. Add that he's got a marvelously delightful demeanor, everyone from the average fan to the suit in the front office loves him, we've never heard rumors of him misbehaving in nightclubs, embarrassing his family, being a jerk - either he has the most supernatural publicist on the planet, or Junior is as advertised (my money is on the latter). This dude is welcome with open arms in any clubhouse, in any town. He started a Mariner, spent most of his career as a Mariner, and now he'll finish a Mariner. In the not-too-distant future, Ken Griffey Jr. will be regarded as the Poster Boy for the Good Guys of the Steroid Era. Without using in an era dominated by juicemonkeys, he is still among the greatest players of the era. Of his 20 years, he's only played in more than 110 games 14 times, and has been selected for the All Star Game in 13 of those. Remove performance enhancing drugs from the equation, and there's a strong case for George Kenneth Griffey Jr. as the greatest player of the last 20 years, probably 30. Any way you slice it, he's among the best the game has ever seen. For once in recent history, Seattle has something to be legitimately excited about. Thanks and Welcome Home, Junior. We'll see ya at the ballpark.
"Saturday Night Live used to be so funny. Today's cast sucks."
- Every Idiot In America
I've been an SNL junkie all my life. Most people tend to appreciate the show with a painfully predictable calendar of retrospect when in fact, the show has almost always delivered the best in sketch comedy. People tend to romanticize the past, especially that which precedes their memory or lifetime. The early years of Saturday Night Live were great, but those episodes contained as many stinkers as any other era of the show. When the early years are re-aired, the 90-minute program is edited down to 30 or sometimes 60 minutes, giving the false impression that the shows were far leaner with comedic genius than they really were. Even the opening monologues are edited down. The Not Ready For Prime Time Players aired this little gem just last week:
So, Alex Rodriguez is in trouble. For those who have been living under a rock or care less about sports than I do about community theater in Osh Kosh (sorry, Cheeseheads), it has emerged that major league baseball's highest-paid player in history, the $28-million-a-year Alex "A-Rod" Rodriguez tested positive for performance enhancing drugs (steroids) in 2003, and admitted to using them while playing for the Texas Rangers from 2001-2003. He plays for the New York Yankees, 
has made $197 MILLION to date during his 13-year career, his current salary translates to $172g per game of the 162-game season or $76g per day of the calendar year, he only stopped banging Madonna when his hot wife found out about it (and if be believe that rumor plus the one which had her shagging Lenny Kravitz, it's a wash, right? Sing with me: "love and marriage..."). Despite all the pressure and how supernaturally demanding the life of a high-profile athlete is - no sarcasm here, all money and rock star perks aside, these guys' lives are more demanding than any of us could ever imagine - feeling bad for Mr. Rodriguez or anyone else in a similar position just ain't in the cards. However, we'd be remiss without a casual examination of this thing.
How much did the juice help him? I'll accept the steroid-defenders' argument that while the stuff increases strength and power, it does not grant hand-eye coordination or timing and thus does not help a player make contact with the ball. So as a guy's ability to hit a 98mph curveball ball may not be enhanced, the enhanced strength and power causes the ball to travel further upon contact, as in more home runs. Looking at A-Rod's career stats, let's
compare some of his numbers between the admitted juice years and the rest of his career:
Batting Average:
.306 - career average
.315 - first 5 full-time seasons with the Seattle Mariners
.305 - next 3 seasons with the Texas Rangers, aka "the juice years"
.303 - last 5 seasons with the Yankees
Home Runs Per Year:
37 - first 5 full-time seasons with the Seattle Mariners
52 - next 3 seasons with the Texas Rangers, aka "the juice years"
42 - last 5 seasons with the Yankees
* 162-game average of homers per year is 44.
To me, these numbers illustrate A-Rod's use of performance enhancing drugs during the years for which he has admitted. His batting average has been quite stable throughout - 3% higher during the Seattle years, negligible. His home run production, though, spiked significantly while in Texas (the juice years), where he put 18% more balls over the fence per season than his average.
I don't like A-Rod at all. He's a Yankee, not to mention a lying, cheating, arrogant pretty boy. I like that he chokes in the post-season, but of course that's a function of my dislike. But in his defense...
[1] The 2003 positive test was, per Major League Baseball, anonymous.
[2] The substance was not banned at the time.
MLB commish Bud Selig has remarked that A-Rod has "shamed the game." I agree. He has also noted that he's interested in suspending the player for the '03 positive test. Good luck. If that works, the powers that be at the Players Association may as well return all its collected union dues, change their names and leave the country. It won't work, in fact the union will have him for lunch and once again, Bud Selig will play the fool as he has so well in recent years, in matters particularly related to this issue.
I wish all sports were 100% free of performance enhancing drugs.
It's nearly impossible for pro sports to police that notion, because the bad guys will always be steps ahead of the governing bodies. Such is the nature of illegal activities being risky, yes, but also tax-free and sexy, thus attracting enough creative/greedy/talented people to thrive.
Unfortunately, given the nature of competitive people whose earning potential sits in the multi-millions per year, the onus of creating and enforcing a level playing field is on the governing body. Major League Baseball has its work cut out, but such is the nature of its role. If you rule the land and reap its benefits, you shall govern its landscape and hold the bag for its shortcomings.
Closing Statements:
[1] A-Rod is a cheating douchebag. He knew what he was putting into his body, as anyone under a 10-year, $250M (at the time) would.
[2] As the substance was not banned when the aforementioned cheating douchebag was using, Major League Baseball has no place suspending or fining him for it. Shame on them for being late to the banned substance policy party.
[3] MLB better get its shit together soon.
I've been emailing back and forth with my uncle, one of the all-time most active music fans and one of the all-time most opinionated people. We stand in disagreement about the quality and purpose of Springsteen's recent Super Bowl appearance. I consider it a smashing success. His new album (released five days before the halftime show) proceeded to debut at #1 not only on the Billboard Albums chart but also the Digital Albums chart. His worldwide concert tour, which largely went on sale the following morning, sold out in record times while Ticketbastard's 
bandwidth took the worst beating since Jake LaMotta faced Sugar Ray Robinson. My uncle dismisses it as a cheeseball performance to which the 95 million-person t.v. audience will pay attention for 15 minutes before moving on to the next flavor of the moment. Chances are, we're both right. When I validated Bruce's success with the "number one with a bullet" angle, he replied, "what dos that mean, he sold 60,000 copies?" Close. 237,000. Now, it can hard to measure the degree of snark in the response, and how much it aims to discredit Springsteen, his commercial viability, the state of the music industry, the short attention span or penchant for illegal downloads among consumers, or all of the above. But it does inspire me to muse on the state of the affairs.
Without diving into a statistical cesspool, I'll keep my .02 qualitative.
Burn, Baby, Burn
Record sales have slid downward a little bit almost every year for about 10 years now, and that's definitely a result of not just all the illegal downloading but also how easy it is to burn a copy of a CD - we're more likely to copy a bunch of stuff when it involves two clicks and a 10-cent blank CD, versus taping albums where you had to set the recording levels, pause the tape to flip the record over, and the blank tapes cost more per unit than blank CDs do (which makes sense, there's more there in materials, assembly and workmanship, and as they're bigger and heavier than a CD they cost more to ship, inventory, and take up more shelf space per unit). 
Naturally, when technology allows us to do something faster and cheaper, we're bound to do more of it. Just as the speed, ease, and free nature of email inspires us to keep in touch with people we wouldn't have via the U.S. Mail as recently as 15 years ago, CD burning results in our music collections being larger and comprised of less store-bought items. Then, of course, there's the Internet and its bevy of filesharing sites. Ten years ago, the record industry was several steps behind in its estimation of the roles technology, hardware and software would play in the consumption of music. But lately it has found ways to legitimize downloaded music, whether it's partnering with iTunes or emusic or any of the other legal systems where people actually pay for their music; placing music in ringtones, video games and elsewhere. Through the RIAA, artists get a royalty on blank CD sales just as they do for blank cassettes. But it's less equitable than straight record sales and the bottom line is, if a record has sold 20,000 copies, chances are it can be found in the homes of another 20,000 people in the form of burned or illegally downloaded copies.
Life Is A Song
What also hurts album sales is the trend of consumers to buy a song for 99 cents instead of buying the entire album. I'm not saying there's anything wrong with that. Just as blank CDs are cheaper, faster, and easier than cassettes, single songs are cheaper and more accessible than 45s were, and you can choose from hundreds of times more songs because you're not limited to just the officially released singles, so a channel like iTunes allows you to listen to 30-second samples of every song on the album and then buy the ones you like a la carte, or buy the whole thing. To be fair, we can also place some onus on the artists, many of whom have long been guilty of releasing albums with good a song or two among a dozen throwaways. For a long time, labels overtly encouraged this, explicitly telling artists that as long as they can deliver one or two potential hit singles, they can put whatever they want on the rest of the album. While I tend to be a more album oriented music fan, I've bought hundreds of songs and parts of albums over the years on iTunes. 
If I want to have "The Pina Colada Song" in my iPod shuffle, I'd rather throw down the 99 cents than buy The Best Of Rupert Holmes. Am I part of the problem? Is it a problem? I don't think so. Rock and pop music has been a singles-oriented form that pre-dates the rock and roll era. R&B labels like Chess, Vee-Jay and many others were releasing music as singles in the 50s, and before that the most prevalent music medium in the 30s was the 78rpm records. My brother has a 1939 jukebox full of jazz on 78. If he leaves it to me in his will, I will have him whacked because that jukebox is one marvelous piece of machinery. Ed also has a vintage Coke machine. What a jerk. Anyway... Presley, Jerry Lee, Little Richard, the Motown stable... all those guys were putting out singles as they made 'em, and eventually albums would be released of that material as it grew in volume. It wasn't until the 60s that the LP (that's long-play record for the youts in the audience) became the norm. So as we see artists like Beck, Ryan Adams, and countless others putting out proper albums but also releasing songs as their inspiration and artistic output doesn't necessarily coincide with (or let itself be limited by) the album-rock model of [1] make an album, [2] go on tour, [3] vacation in the islands for a couple months, [4] repeat, we're not seeing anything new. The delivery methods of the music is new, the channels through which we can access it are much greater in number and they vary in form, and the time table of releasing music is as flexible as its creators or consumer demand want to let it be, that's all. Instead of pressing the 45s, shipping the records to radio stations and getting a brick-and-mortar retail distribution deal, technology and media has developed and it's done differently now. Now, with a $1,000 Pro Tools software package and a Mac, an artist can record a song (or album) 
while sitting on the same couch he or she wrote the music on, maybe even the same couch he or she was dumped on by the ex whose cruelty inspired the very art... email or FTP a hi-res version of it to his or her manager, and the music can be available for purchase and consumption later that day via established, legal online channels ranging from the artist's website, online retailers - artwork can even be included. They also FTP the music for radio stations to play on the air, and deliver music for ringtones that way. So... Artists can release music more often, music fans have more to choose from, everything is more timely and it's all the result of a free market dictating a lot more of the terms that it used to. (remember, with few exceptions, from the 50s through the 90s, thanks to Payola in its many forms, commercial radio was essentially an informercial for the record companies). The only people truly hurting as a result of this system of distribution and delivery is the U.S. Postal Service. And really, from the bottom of my heart... f**k them. The USPS has lost, damaged, and otherwise taken months to deliver enough of my packages that they can take it right in the seat, for all I care.
Small Recording Studios
Also hurting are the smaller recording studios where independent artists used to go more often to make their albums. With the aforementioned Mac and Pro Tools, an artist can make an album at home that would have cost $30g to make in a studio ten years ago. (those are real numbers from bands I've known and worked with who have done it both ways). I feel bad for the folks who own, operate, and work in those studios, which for decades have been the way for indie bands to create a product that could stand next to the major label stuff in the record store. These studios are still the way to go for an artist to mix and master their music, but tracking the music (recording all the parts - vocal tracks, guitar tracks, drums tracks, etc.) was the core business and now the small studios need to find new ways to stay afloat. All businesses must adapt to changing times and climates, but this is a particularly lean climate in which the small guy needs to get particularly creative just to survive.
Music Lover's Town Square: Indie Record Stores
Yesterday's music fan walked into the record store and talked music with the clerk or owner, got some tips, and it was a social experience. As a kid, I had Newbury Comics, Strawberries, Good Vibrations... Today's music fan gets the same thing online, more extensively and with people all over the world by reading music blogs and participating in online discussion or bulletin boards, albeit largely with strangers and not in person. Once the lifeblood, the mecca of music consumption, record stores have been dropping like flies. Far beyond Tower Records and Virgin Megastores going under, the locally-owned stores are struggling. When AC/DC issued its latest album exclusively to WalMart (aka The Devil), my neighborhood record store (Sonic Boom) bought it there for $9.99 and re-sold it in their store for $12.99 just to have it available. 
Sonic Boom does a great job of having a large selection of CDs, vinyl and DVDs, as does the larger locally based Easy Street Records, but it can't be easy as they're buying titles by the handful while online retailers like Amazon and the like are buying titles by the thousands and enjoying the associated price breaks, which exceed the shipping and handling costs enough that the Big Boys can still offer a lower (delivered) price point. This doesn't make Amazon et al bad at all - they're only guilty of good, successful, consumer-friendly business. Still, I feel for the owners, operators, and staff of the small stores just as I do for those of the small recording studios. Especially because as a matter of personal preference, I like getting my music from a place I can walk into, finger through some titles, engage in a dialog with a human being who makes his or her living enjoying music, choose from titles that would otherwise be hard to find and/or involve waiting for, look at the Staff Favorites section to consider what people who like music enough to choose living on a crap wage just to be around it are listening to... it's a dog eat dog world in which the indie record stores and small recording studios are wearing Milkbone underwear.
So Much Music, So Little Time
I was at a music industry conference in '98, the very first Atlantis Music Conference in (you guessed it!) Atlanta. There and then, major label reps estimated that at least 28,000 legitimate albums would be released that year, twice as many as the annual output of ten years prior to that. I can only imagine that number has just about doubled again. So if you've got the aggregate dollar spent on albums down a few points as a result of many people satisfying their casual desire for music as they get it on the their cell phones and other hand-held gadgets, and/or buy a song or two instead of the entire album, not to mention all the filesharing and illegal downloading - more competition, lower bar of entry to the market, and a smaller revenue pie to fight for a piece of - of course it's tough to sell a record.
Back to the Beginning: #1 Today Means As Much as #1 Yesterday
Jumping back to argue against the notion that Springsteen's album going #1 last week doesn't mean much because it didn't have to sell a million copies to do so... Having a #1 record in 2009 means as much as it did 20, 30, 40 years ago because it's not a comparison to a landscape that doesn't exist anymore, it's a comparison to all others in the current landscape at the time. Consider this... The final episode of M*A*S*H will probably never be passed as the most-watched broadcast of all time. There were 3 networks, PBS, and a couple snowy UHF stations to choose from back then. Now there are hundreds of stations for people to choose from, never mind those watching later online, or those who use TiVo or DVR to watch later. The viewership of any broadcast today is under represented and there's literally hundreds of times as many alternatives. Television is becoming less and less of a broadcast medium. People don't want to have to be home at 7:00 to catch 60 Minutes if it's not convenient for them. Though things like on-demand and DVR are conveniences most people understandably enjoy, I personally prefer the traditional broadcast nature of t.v. I like thinking that I'm watching something as it's happening if it's a live broadcast, or at least (if it's pre-recorded) while everyone else in America is watching at the same time. But what can ya do? I also prefer to read the paper and have to wash the ink off my hands when I'm done. Keeping the Seattle Times paperboy in business, baby. That's what I do. Anyway, this applies to music consumption, too. Buying records used to be the only way people could consume music as a product. Now, buying records is just one of many channels for that. At any given moment, every artist in the world is playing on the same field as everyone else.
The Bar. I Just Tripped Over It.
So, what we have is seemingly a free-for-all, where virtually anyone can create music for virtually anyone to consume via a large selection of channels which far exceeds that which previous decades have known. By a long shot, more music is out there and more people are consuming it. As the aggregate dollar spent on music is lower, though, it stands to reason that music is cheaper to put out and cheaper to consume, and often free to consume. A double-edged sword, this is. The upside is, we can access tons of music that we never could as recently as ten years ago, and the further back you go, the fewer your choices were. In the past, our options were censored by the music industry, or more specifically, label execs. As these people tend to play a lot of golf and wear stupid-looking suits, I used to say "the taste-makers have no taste." The artists whose record deals yielded a heavier share of the royalties to the label were the artists whose records got the promotional budget to make the album they wanted, the promo/radio/publicity push to make it successful, and the love to follow through with a second and (maybe) third single accompanied by a Grammy campaign. The labels pay/paid for all this stuff, so they are/were entitled to re-coup these expenses before artist royalties kick in - I'm just painting the economies of it all with a broad, qualitative brush.
In Related News... What Ever Happened To So-and-So? Their First Album Was Huge! Did They Break Up Or Something?
When you wonder what happened to bands whose debut albums were smash hits and whose sophomore follow-ups were, well, you were barely (if at all) aware they put out a second album - consider Hootie & the Blowfish and Live in the 90s - it was because after grinding it out on the small club circuit and selling CDs on their own with 
limited or no retail distribution, the initial record contract was something the artist was just pleased as punch to have and they signed on the dotted line for a deal that would yield no artist royalties until a few hundred thousand copies were sold. The record company, with the lion's share of profits as their incentive, would push those albums and exert the spending to facilitate the fail-safe hit-making campaign. Then, after selling millions of 'em and touring the world a few times over, the artist re-negotiates its contract just like an athlete might. If you're a football player who signs a three-year deal for the league minimum as an undrafted free agent out of college, and in your first season you become Rookie Of The Year and make the Pro Bowl, you will re-negotiate your deal because you improved your value from, say, $200g to $2M and you may not want the $2M from your current employer, but something in between would be fair and nice. So, a Hootie or a Live re-negotiates its deal for an artist royalty which resembles that of an artist whom as they already have on their debut, sold a few million copies. And the label gives it to them. And then, which projects do the label push? The artist-friendly royalty balance of the Hootie or Live albums, or the label-friendly royalty balance of the albums by (insert whichever artists had just signed here)? Hey, if you were commissioned to sell a bunch of products, you would focus on the ones which made you more money, too, wouldn't you? It makes sense, but as (per this example) Hootie and Live may have had more good or commercially viable music left in the tank when their labels chose to sweep them under the rug, their fifteen minutes could have been more like a half an hour, maybe even an hour. I'm not a big fan of either artist, and I'm not saying the world would be a different place if these particular artists had a couple more hit songs. I'm just using their examples to illustrate how a lot of very popular bands seemed to disappear.
Why Is Radio Dead?
Because as a result of micro-marketing, radio formatting is ridiculously segregated. There's not just a rock format anymore. Instead, there are separate formats and stations for: modern rock, active rock, adult alternative, alternative, classic rock, Americana, and heavy metal. You used to hear all those things on one station, and you'd hear other stuff on that station as well. But now that material is segregated into seven different formats. Years ago, music enthusiasts were at the mercy of the other extreme: not enough variety. Few channels to choose from, the content was bought and paid for by the record companies, and we didn't have the infrastructure to get exposed to a lot of things and make our own choices. 
So some golf-addicted cheeseball who might as well have been selling potato chips got to decide what the world would hear because he makes two cents more per unit on the sales of one artist's music over that of another. At its best - and this is kind of sad - a radio station of old might have given a song a lot of spins not because the record company put cash in the hands of the DJ, but because the label rep took the station's music director out for steaks, martinis, and a hooker. God Bless America, land that I love.
My fingers are sore. Time to wrap this sucker up.
"Music Ain't What It Used To Be! Today's Music Stinks!"
People have been saying that forever and quite frankly, to coin a phrase, it sounds like a broken record. Most people will take whatever music was big during their socially formative years and cling to it as the last great era of pop for the rest of their lives. I understand the value of associating music with specific moments and periods of your life. Grunge exploded during the second half of my college (frat party) career, and as it meant "Goodbye, Technotronic and C+C Music Factory... hello, Nirvana and Pearl Jam!" that music will always occupy a special place for me. I met my first girlfriend after a Billy Joel concert, so my ears will always be forgiving of that pudgy little drunk bastard's music. If you're around 70, maybe you lost your cherry in the back seat of your dad's Buick to Little Anthony & the Imperials If you're about 60, maybe you hallucinated in a field to the Kinks' Village Green Preservation Society; maybe you're 50 and disco was all the rage when you got out of school, got a job, and, you know, you like the nightlife and you got to boogie. Or maybe you're around my age (37) and although you want to hate Matchbox 20 and Hootie & the Blowfish, that shit was playing at all the parties you went to in your mid-20s and you've got a soft spot for those songs because they take you back to your first mini-era of upward mobility. My first slow dance was in the 8th grade, to "Heaven" by Bryan Adams. Oh, where art thou, Andrea Migliassi, and why couldn't a better song have been playing at that moment? Alas, my sappy sense of sentiment forces me to like it. At least I admit it. Remember when you were young(er) and your parents discarded your music in favor of theirs? "They don't make 'em like they used to..." 
Depending on your age, that could mean your parents would never accept that your Elvis Presley would ever measure up to their Judy Garland, your Jefferson Airplane to their Charlie Parker, your Led Zeppelin to their Buddy Holly, your Radiohead to their James Taylor... "Your music, this shit you kids listen to, it's a passing thing, it doesn't measure up to the music of yesteryear. In twenty years, nobody's gonna look back at 'Crazy' or 'Hey Ya!' and say, boy, those were good songs..." Actually, they will. I don't feel like waiting twenty years for you to be proved wrong, so I'll just declare you wrong today and move on to something else. If you find yourself complaining about today's music, that not enough good stuff is coming out and that the future won't regard today's output as anything more than laughably forgettable, please bear in mind that you sound just like all the old assholes who were saying the same thing when you were younger and listening to current music. Now stop being an asshole, go out and buy some records. May I recommend the new Andrew Bird? It's delightful. Go buy it. Do it. Do it now.
Tomorrow, Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band play the Super Bowl halftime show. There's been tons of speculation, discussion and debate among the Boss fans on the matters of "is he selling out?" and "what will they play?" Rather than wait until after the event to weigh in, I thought I'd lay my thoughts on the line beforehand. I can't stand people who offer the standard hindsight genius ("Oh yeah, I KNEW that was gonna happen!" Really? Can you tell me if Pittsburgh is gonna cover?). So here are my thoughts:
The "Sellout" Issue
Call Bruce a sellout if you like, but in 2009, getting on the radio is far from enough to sell records. People don't listen to the radio to find new music anymore. They take it wherever they can. There used to be one or two channels for that, radio and mainstream music magazines. If you got on the radio and Rolling 
Stone (or later, Spin) wrote about you, your album went gold. Now, if you only get radio play and love from the music rags, your single could chart on Billboard but you still might only sell 30,000 copies (in '02, Elvis Costello was nominated for a couple Grammies for a great album that earned truckloads of radio play and critical praise, and the album had only sold 30,000 during the three months between its release and the nomination). If you don't do the t.v. shows, stream samples on your website, sell advance songs on iTunes for 99 cents, license your music for film and/or television and/or video games and/or grocery store chains, get a ringtone deal, and do all the interviews and promotional appearances you didn't have to do (read: wouldn't have done because you didn't have to) as recently as ten years ago, you won't sell a lot of records. And as Bruce signed a 10-record deal with Sony/Columbia - the label he's been with for his entire career - for the largest advance in history back in '03 ($114M up front for the Boss), I'm sure that came with a detailed list of what he'd do to sell records, things he wouldn't have done years ago but things that are not considered "sellout" in the reality of today's climate. My personal opinion is that he looked around and saw the band aging. Danny Federici, 
who'd played organ, glockenspiel and accordion with Bruce since the 60s in the bands Child and Steel Mill before joining the Bruce Springsteen Band in '71, passed away last year and that naturally inspired a more succinct awareness of mortality on E Street. I think Bruce wants to squeeze in as much E Street activity as he/they can before it becomes unrealistic. Clarence Clemons is 67, walks with a cane and is living with a painful hip replacement. Bruce may have some regrets about having broken the band up for ten years between '88 and '98, prime earning years given the band's age, commercial viability, and the domestic economy at the time, and he wants to set everyone and their families up for life. Back to the matter of "selling out" - we still respect the Stones, the Who, and U2, right? Well, I do, at least for their music catalogs. Will we look back on those artists' careers and discard the Stones for using "Start Me Up" on the Windows 2000 commercial, or the Who for using a variety of songs for a variety of products in the early 21st century, or U2 for pimping the iPod? If you're not with 
me on this, let's go to Bob Dylan, who let Victoria's Secret use his music to sell women's underwear. In '98, Iggy Pop let a vacation cruise line company use "Lust For Life" and Curtis Mayfield let a car company use "Superfly." The examples are endless. Is Bruce a mercenary for playing the Super Bowl halftime show? Yup. Are we all mercenaries for making career choices because they pay us money that allows us to live a lifestyle that we're comfortable with, given our options? You bet. If you owned a business and someone offered you the opportunity to promote it or show it off for 12 minutes in front of a global audience of about 160 million, you'd be crazy to say No. And so we see, Bruce Springsteen is not crazy.
What's He Gonna Play?
Here's a guy who does make a set list for every show, but it's different every night and he ALWAYS abandons it in favor of audibles he calls out to the band. This must drive the band crazy as they must scramble to change instruments, sound and lighting guys alike, but it keeps things interesting and fresh for us all and it's one of the many things we love 'em for. I think "Born to Run" is the only guarantee. Most of his best concert pieces are 8-12 minutes long so it's a tough prediction. 
"Rosalita" would only leave him 3 minutes for other material, though I'd love to see this because [a] it's one of the greatest songs ever, and [2] given the huge advance Sony paid him in '03 which undoubtedly resulted in this halftime show, it's got the line, "your papa says he knows that I don't have any money, but tell him this is his last chance; to get his daughter in a fine romance; because the record company, Rosie, just gave me a big advance!" Alas, while Rosie is the greatest epic concert piece known to mankind, I don't think the Boss will use nine of his twelve minutes on any one song. Given that... I'd like to see him open with "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out" right into a condensed version of the Detroit Medley he used to do ("Devil With the Blue Dress" / "Good Golly Miss Molly" / "Jenny Jenny" / "C.C. Rider") and maybe add a couple to it, like "Woolly Bully" and/or "Double Shot of My Baby's Love" and then bust right into "Born to Run." If he can do each in 4 minutes, there's a nice 12-minute set. I got the new album, half of it is awesome and half is throwaways, and I know he's doing this gig to promote the new album, but with only 12 minutes, I hope he doesn't play any new stuff. So there's my official prediction:
Tenth Avenue Freeze Out
Detroit Medley
Born to Run
Boss, What Can Ya Tell Us?
In the Super Bowl press conference, they asked Bruce how he could represent his legendary 3-hour concerts in a 12-minute halftime show. His answer was pretty cool:
"The idea of the show is, you're going to the Meadowlands or to one of the shows that we regularly play, and you get lost on the way. You're watchin' the clock and, damn, the show's startin'. You stop in a bar and get some directions. The bar gets held up while you're there. It takes another 45 minutes to get out of that. Then you come back and you miss your exit on the Turnpike, you drive another 30 minutes to get back around, and so you make it into the stadium at 2 hours and 48 minutes into the show. That's what you're gonna see. The last 12 minutes."
Kick-off is at 6pm EST, 3pm PST. The game is on NBC.
Detroit Medley, live at the Capital Centre in Landover, MD on November 24, 1980:
Inspired by recent events and conversations, this entry will address the ever-growing presence and imposition of conservative religious values as they pertain to gay marriage.
What is morality? What's right, what's wrong, and what defines those things? Webster defines moral as "of or relating to principles of right and wrong behavior" and its primary synonym is "ethical." So how does Webster define ethical? "conforming to accepted standards of conduct." So far, no good. I'm looking for something that's fair, and terms like conforming and accepted aren't definitive to me, I mean, when we talk conformity we're entering "because I said so" territory and when we talk accepted I must ask, "accepted by whom, exactly?" So, how does Webster define right - as in right and wrong? "being in accordance with what is just, good, or proper." Okay, I can work with that terminology. Just offers more of the same but also some hope, as its definition brings [1] "having a basis in or conforming to fact or reason" and [2] "being what is merited or deserved" but also [3] "conforming to a standard of correctness." Moving along, how is good defined? There are many things the word can mean (think man, that thing was heavy, it must have weighed a good 85 pounds! and use your imagination from there). In our context here, Webster calls good "of a favorable character or tendency." Look up "proper" and enjoy more of the same, a variety of contexts and definitions, the most germane to our discussion being, "marked by suitability, rightness, or appropriateness." And so we see, Webster, the definitive authority on the English language, leads us in vague circles on the topic.
Back to the original question.
What is morality and vice versa? I guess it depends on who you ask. Ask me and I say a moral act is one which helps others, while an immoral act is one which harms others. Does "morality" apply to every act of human behavior? What if something neither helps nor harms anyone? In my opinion, in a push, a harmless act would qualify as moral because it isn't immoral. Ask a member of any number of Christian sects and you'll be directed to the Bible for a host of definitions, interpretations and ideas.
Most Christian sects posit that as gay sex is immoral per their (or God's per the Bible's) definition of the term, gay marriage is contrary to God's will, and they'll cite Romans 1, I Corinthians 6:8-10, and Jude 1:7. Within the Judeo-Christian tradition, religious objections to same-sex marriage are often based upon biblical passages at Genesis 19:5, Leviticus 18:22, and Leviticus 20:13. Religious organizations that oppose same-sex marriage include the Church of God in Christ, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, the Conservative Congregational Christian Conference, the Conservative Mennonite Conference, the Convocation of Anglicans in North America, the Hutterite Brethren, the Orthodox Church in America, the Seventh-day Adventist Church, the Roman Catholic Church, the Southern Baptist Convention, and the Union of Orthodox Jewish Congregations of America. Due to the ambivalent language about homosexuality in Buddhist teachings, there has been no official stance put forth regarding the issue of same-sex marriage. There are both conservative and liberal views about homosexuality and same-sex marriage in Hinduism, similar to many other religions. Sorry for the detail. Just trying to be fair.
Either way, perhaps the issue is most simply resolved here: by legally defining marriage as an opposite-sex institution, the government infringes upon the constitutional right to the freedom of religion. If those opposed to same-sex marriage must cite a 2,000 year-old book as the primary support of their argument, then I must cite some more recent but historically sound examples - I'll pick the three that come right to mind:
Thomas Paine. His [sarcasm] little-known [/sarcasm] pamphlet Common Sense which states, "As to religion, I hold it to be the indispensable duty of all government, to protect all conscientious 
professors thereof, and I know of no other business which government hath to do therewith…" largely inspired enough British subjects to sail for freedom to what would become America. Ironically ahead of his time as a thinker, the primary topic which prevented Paine from securing a role in the development of the new republic was his fervent opposition to slavery.
Roger Williams. Here in the U.S., some of the early colonies which were founded as a result of religious persecution, were not tolerant of dissident forms of worship. Williams found it necessary to found a new colony in Rhode Island to escape persecution in the theocratically dominated colony 
of Massachusetts. Geographically it's the smallest state in the union, but without it we'd have no Farrelly Brothers movies. It was also the first state to declare independence from Britain, the site of the first and oldest 4th of July parade, the first colony to enact a law prohibiting slavery in the U.S. (1652), and more contemporarily the site of the first NFL game (1929), the first automobile race track (1899)...
Thomas Jefferson. This [more sacrasm] obscure [/sacrasm] revolutionary for whom a street is named in every American city proclaimed in the Virginia Statute of Religious Freedom, "[N]o man shall be compelled to frequent or support any religious worship, place, or ministry whatsoever, nor shall be enforced, restrained, molested, or burthened in his body or 
goods, nor shall otherwise suffer, on account of his religious opinions or belief; but that all men shall be free to profess, and by argument to maintain, their opinions in matters of religion, and that the same shall in no wise diminish, enlarge, or affect their civil capacities." The document is one of only three accomplishments Jefferson instructed be put in his epitaph (the Declaration of Independence and the Statute of Virginia being the other two).
If you oppose same-sex marriage on Biblical grounds, I'll challenge your point of reference. I don't discredit yours, the book by which you live and believe. I believe the Bible is a very useful collection of works. But don't you discredit my points of reference, either. Nobody knows who authored your book, there is no evidence of any of its first half (the Old Testament) and very little of its second half (the New Testament). My points of reference were authored not only by historically documented people, but they (both people and documents) were necessary and influential in forming the State which you claim should be governed in accordance with your point of reference.
Definitions of Morality Redux.
Let's agree to disagree on what "moral" means. If you take your cues from the Bible, then same-sex activity and marriage is immoral. I don't agree with that notion, but I do understand it and respect the right of those who opine that way. If your definition of "moral" doesn't rely on that document, then it probably isn't even a matter of morality; rather, it's just an incidental and harmless tendency in some humans, some folks are born with this tendency and some are not. It seems that the Biblical definition of morality is ideological, where the one I employ is practical. Who's right? That's subject to interpretation. Should it be a matter of public policy and law? No way.
Of course, there are some religious folks who consider homosexuality a disease in need of a cure, and some sects insist on exorcism, but that's where I draw my line - you know, the "you're so f***in' nuts I can't even talk to you" line. Now, back to the world of the semi-sane...
It's not as if I'm making an argument for some short-lived trend like the Macarena as our national dance (is there a national dance? I'm gonna look that up), or for Seinfeld to be our national sitcom - I like Seinfeld, and if you don't like it, I'm sure the sights and sounds are excruciating to you (Jerry does whine a lot) but if it doesn't work for you, change the channel, let those with (according to you) bad taste enjoy it, and move on to whatever program works for you. No harm, no foul, and hopefully nothing immoral aside from the characters who don't actually enter your real life.
"Gay marriage dilutes the definition of marriage as defined by...."
When gay marriage pees in your marital pool to a degree which resides in the same species as hetero unions of the unhealthy, abusive, and unfaithful nature - and/or when the divorce rate falls below 50% - give me a call.
Even if we agreed that, at the risk of minimizing the Biblical case, "God says it's wrong" - what's your beef? If same-sex couples wish to practice the tendencies and preferences they're born with, and have access to the same marital recognition and rights as any other citizen, how does that affect you? I insist that it does not affect you in any real, tangible way. Not in terms of your real life, as you get up, go to work, come home, shop for groceries, clean the house and such. The "gay thing" doesn't stand in the way of anything you want to do. Does it affect your insistent reconciliation of what you consider moral, your definition of marriage, and what exists before you in the world? Sure, you have the right to consider it wrong, judge it, and worry about it just as much as you choose. Should that make it illegal? No, it should not.
I was just forced to make chocolate milk with fat-free "milk." Milk is wonderful. When I say milk, I mean whole milk. Fat Free Milk is not Milk, okay? Look... Diet Dr. Pepper, it's different; Diet Coke, I guess you can have that, too. Those products include a substitute for what differentiates them from their base product counterparts, sweetener stand-ins for the high fructose corn syrup that don't taste the same, but they do the trick, they may not rust through the paint on the hood of your car, but they're sweet enough to satisfy enough people (mostly girls and guys with girlish tendencies) to make a market. All terrifying aftertastes aside, I can respect that, because those diet soft drinks have different 
flavors - we've come a long way from Tab - and it becomes a matter of taste, acquired or otherwise. Back to milk... The real stuff, the deathtrap 3% stuff with red ink on the label, is fantastic. It tastes good, especially when ice-cold. The other stuff, 2%, 1%, Skim, Fat Free - all it is, is watered-down milk. If we can agree for a moment that whole milk tastes best... I ask you, skim/2%/1%/low-fat/non-fat milk drinkers... just how much f***ing milk do you drink? Unless you're throwing down a gallon a day, I urge you, just drink the real stuff and cut your dietary corners elsewhere. At least in other areas of consumption, you'll enjoy flavor alternatives and not watered-down versions of the real thing.
JIM RICE HAS FINALLY BEEN ELECTED INTO BASEBALL'S HALL OF FAME
Well, it's about &^$%$#%#* time. Jim Ed has been on the ballot since '95 and this was his final year of eligibility. What kept him out of the Hall for so long? The two most common theories are:
1. His career wasn't long enough for Hall of Fame consideration. I disagree. Without taking a few years to develop into a great player, and without tapering off for several years at the tail-end of his career as even so many of the great players do, usually waning in mediocrity and with teams they didn't spend their good years with; instead, he began great, remained great for 12-13 seasons, and then had 2 seasons in which his output was above average for a major league starter before his final, injury-riddled year (1989). He could have stuck around, as there are always teams who want to sign an aging legend whose skills and health have taken him to Ordinarytown. 
Should it be held against him that he didn't spend a few final years with some godforsaken cellar team, adding some misrepresentative fluff to his career stats? His career was more efficient and that should have worked in his favor all these years. His first 12 full-time seasons were dominant, beginning with the '75 season in which he was runner-up for Rookie of the Year and 3rd in the MVP voting (he lost both to teammate Fred Lynn, who remains the only player in history to ever win both). Jim Rice and Ty Cobb are the only players to lead the league in total bases three years in a row. From '75 through '85, he led the league in home runs three times, runs batted in (twice), runs, slugging percentage (twice), and extra-base hits. He was also an 8-time All Star who finished among the Top Five in the MVP voting six times, winning the award in '78. He did the thing that supposedly drives Hall of Fame consideration: he dominated his era.
2. He wasn't congenial enough with the Boston sports writers. I disagree. For one thing, the Boston sports writers don't dictate who gets into the Hall. For another, he wasn't an ornery, arrogant prick like (for example) Barry Bonds. He was just a quiet guy. He was a team captain, for cryin' out loud. Besides, have you ever met a sports writer? Well I have, plenty of 'em, and that field doesn't exactly attract the popularity contest winners or the well-mannered.
If you're a numbers guy, there are plenty Hall of Famers whose career statistical portfolios don't measure up to those of Jim Rice. Take Tony Perez, one of my favorite players, of whom I was a fan growing up, and who spent some time in a Red Sox uniform later in his career. Perez was inducted in 2000. It took Rice 16 seasons to amass 382 homers and 1,451 RBI. Perez played 23 seasons but had fewer home runs (379) and only 201 more RBI (and RBI was always his calling card). Also, Perez was a .279 career hitter while Rice hit .298. But as Perez picked up a couple rings with the Big Red Machine, not so arguably baseball's all-time greatest team, well, that doesn't hurt. 
I'm not saying Tony Perez doesn't deserve his bust in Cooperstown. He absolutely does. I'm just saying it was a long time coming for Jim Rice, and with no good reason.
So why did it take so long for James Edward Rice to be inducted, and on his final ballot of eligibility at that? Two reasons:
1. His output declined quickly at the end of his career which, at 16 seasons long, is a little shorter than that of a traditional Hall of Famer. With a career 162-game season average of 30 home runs, he hit only 31 in his final three seasons (1987-89). In between his first and last seasons ('74 and '89), during which he was a part-time player, Rice registered 14 tremendous seasons, collecting all the stats and accolades detailed above, an elite slugger of his era, a guy no pitcher in baseball wanted to face when the Sox needed a hit. Maybe if he'd arrived at the major league a couple years earlier en route to that stellar '75 season and then stuck around for a couple mediocre old-man victory-lap seasons, his career stats (and his bank account) would have been padded enough for earlier induction.
2. He never had a career-defining, highlight-reel post season moment. In my opinion, if there's only one factor to identify as the reason it took so long to get Rice into Cooperstown, this must be it. The Sox went to the World Series twice during Rice's career. In '75, he sat out with a broken wrist; in '86, though he finished third in the MVP voting and posted a .324 batting average with 200 hits, 110 RBI, 20 homers, career-highs in doubles (39), walks (62) and on-base percentage (.384), the only thing anyone remembers about the '86 Series is the ball dribbling through Bill Buckner's legs.
The good news is, as history unfolds, nobody remembers how long it took for a guy to be inducted. Hell, of the 26 players to surpass the career 3,000-hit milestone, only half of them were inducted on the first ballot. Tommy John, with 26 seasons and 288 wins, not only isn't in, he hasn't come close, never breaking 30% of the ballot (75% is required for induction). Bert Blyleven, another dominant pitcher with a statistical case for his position very comparable to Rice's, was denied this year on his 12th ballot (you get 15 before you're off the list for good). The list goes on. Ironically, Rice's career ended just as the Steroid Era began pissing in the pool of baseball purity. 
In his first year of retirement, the Red Sox won the American League East and were swept in the ALCS by the Oakland A's, whose roster included eventually-famous juicemonkeys Jose Canseco and Mark McGwire. It might have been quite a sight, watching Rice, who at 6'2" and 200 lbs. and considered a Big Man in his day, playing against Canseco (6'4" and 240) and McGwire (6'5" and 225) - talk about the pre and post juice era Pepsi challenge... Ultimately, playing before the Steroid Era probably helps a guy's HoF candidacy, as it removes the "did he or didn't he?" question surrounding the purity of his stats (or his pee). McGwire and Canseco, among many others, may never see Cooperstown as a result of their drug-induced stats. But then, if the benchmark is dominating in your era, maybe the steroid guys will get in, that is, if the baseball writers determine that virtually everyone in the game was using the stuff, theoretically leveling the playing field and rendering the stats relatively fair within the era. Who knows. Maybe I'll rant about the steroid era in a future post.
For now, let's consider it a good day, the one on which Jim Rice was voted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. The Red Sox unofficial policy on retiring numbers is that the player must [a] be in the Hall of Fame, [b] have played at least ten years in a Sox uniform, and [c] have finished his career with the Sox. Opening Day tickets at Fenway probably just tripled in value, as they will raise #14 alongside #9 Teddy Ballgame, #4 Joe Cronin, #1 Bobby Doerr, #8 Carl Yastrzemski, and #27 Carlton Fisk, who spent his final 13 seasons wit dose udder Sox over by dere in Chicago but was later hired as a Red Sox special assistant so they could raise his number without breaking the "rule."
Jim Rice, Hall of Famer. I know a few people who will have an easy time getting used to saying that.
This guy is (according to the Interweb) a reformed Scientologist whose real last name is Offer. I'd make fun of him, but while [a] the Scientologist thing is "low-hanging fruit" defined, [2] he does deserve credit for being among the few of them who got out without winding up on the business end of a mysteriously unsolved murder or "suicide" - [III] though he's surely not making Springsteen money, [d] dude can most likely buy and sell me ten times over. Before I cry in my chowder ("Good God, where did I go wrong?"), let's enjoy this little slice of salesmanship and consumerism, shall we? Highlights (watch for them...) include:
"Stop having BORING tuna. Stop having a BORING life!"
"You're gonna love my nuts."
"We're going to make America skinny again!"
I know this guy is a failed song parody artist who probably signed up for the walk-in try-outs for The Soup, Blind Date, and Cheaters. Still, though, can we not playfully wonder if our man here was court-ordered to make these infomercials? In any event, to Mr. Offer, I sincerely say: Good on you, my brother. While the rest of us sit in cubicles and work godforsaken middle management schmuck jobs, you're doing this and most of us would trade places with you in a heartbeat. SLAP CHOP!
Sports Illustrated just declared 2008 the Best Sports Year Ever. The major factors for this idea were: the Giants winning the Super Bowl, which I'm sure was just wonderful for many people outside of New England; reformed drug addict Josh Hamilton put on a clinic at the All Star Game's Home Run Derby (I'm not kidding, it's in there); Tiger Woods won the U.S. Open (what else is new?); there was a really great tennis match (wake me up when this gets interesting); the U.S. did great at the Olympics in beach volleyball and swimming (sports people only care about once every four years); and the Celtics beat the Lakers for the NBA title (no arguments on the merit of this item). It was a pretty good year, certainly not a bad year, but the best year? Come on, man.
You know who had the worst sports year ever? The City of Seattle. In '08, the Emerald City was treated to these chestnuts: after 41 seasons and after finishing the 2008 season in last place with the worst record in the Western Conference and the second-worst in the NBA (20-62), the SuperSonics basketball team was moved to Oklahoma City and re-named the Thunder (their record is 3-29 so far); in baseball, the Mariners delivered a last-place, American League-worst 61-101 record, becoming the first team in history to win 100 games in one season and lose 100 games in another within a ten-year period; let's see, hockey... Seattle doesn't have an NHL team... they do have a minor league team, the Thunderbirds of the WHL, who finished second-to-last in the standings (14-19) and were just moved from Seattle to Kent, 25 miles away; the University of Washington football team made history by going 0-12 for its first-ever winless season; the UW basketball team finished below .500 and was eliminated in the first round of the least-attended contest of the PAC-10 tournament; the Seahawks football team just wrapped up a 4-12 campaign, the second-worst record in the 31-year history of the franchise. 
The only bright spot Seattle sports had in 2008 was its WNBA team, the Storm, who finished in second place in a tie for the league's second-best record (20-12) before being eliminated in the first round of the playoffs. They may have done better, too, if the lovely Lauren Jackson didn't miss a third of the season and get injured while representing her native Australia in the Olympics. Alas, my favorite woman on earth is an unrestricted free agent, which means we can likely expect to say goodbye... Seattle sports fans, you done got hosed in '08, kids.
In related news...
The New York Jets fired head coach Eric Mangini this morning. My .02... this is a cowardly, irresponsible, misguided move by Jets ownership. When the team's ownership signed a relic named Brett Favre to a one-year, $14M deal in August, Mangini was forced to dump QB Chad Pennington four weeks before the season began. While Favre went on to throw a League-high 22 interceptions and lead the Jets out of the playoff hunt by throwing nine picks and two touchdowns for a League-worst passer rating in the course of losing 4 of the season's last 5 games (3 at the hands of teams at or below .500), Pennington went on to achieve the NFL's second-highest passer rating, becoming the first Miami Dolphin QB since Dan Marino to throw for more than 3,500 yards in a season, posting an 11-5 record and winning the AFC East title. Pennington is also being included in the League MVP conversation. Now, anyone can Monday Morning Quarterback this thing, but back in August I certainly didn't anticipate Favre, who is 39 (antique in NFL years) and didn't decide he wanted to play football until the summer (read: not in football shape), would have a stellar season, particularly in December. On one hand, the Jets spent more than $100M in off-season free agent acquisitions, which sets the bar pretty high, i.e., you must make the playoffs or some heads will roll. On the other hand, the team headed into the stretch 8-3 with consecutive road wins against the four-time defending Division champion Patriots and (then 10-0) Titans. After that point, Favre's age and lack of off-season conditioning kicked in. He was physically and mentally tired, had no mustard on the football, and delivered a 5-week horror show that not even Rex Grossman is capable of crapping out. The Jets lost all 4 games by 10 points or less, and all 4 came against lesser teams. If the quarterback registered an average day at any two of these four games, the Jets would have had the AFC East wrapped up before Week 17. But that wasn't the case, not due to anything the coach did, but the result of a last-minute pre-season personnel decision made by ownership. And if the Jets had won the Division and advanced to the post-season, Eric Mangini would not be fired. Summarizing... ownership made a move for Favre, dealing the franchise quarterback Pennington to a Division rival, Favre made the difference that had the Jets clearing their lockers before January while Pennington enjoyed a career season whose Week 17 exclamation point was the situationally ironic beating of the Jets in the Meadowlands to clinch the Division, and rather than absorbing any of it and making plans for a new QB in the draft or free agent market (Matt Cassel, anyone?), they fire the coach? Like I said... a cowardly, irresponsible, misguided move by Jets ownership.
The good news is two-fold. As a Mangini supporter, I am happy for him that he can get the hell out of New York. And, now I can comfortably return to the business of hating the mother f***ing Jets.
What does Eric do with the house to himself on a Friday night? Why, he re-writes Twas the Night Before Christmas as an homage to the high-scorers of the 2008 fantasy football season. Duh! If you're not an NFL fan, this won't be interesting to you. If you are, it might be good for a chuckle.
Twas the night before Draft Day, when all through the home,
Not a QB was scrambling, not even Jake Delhomme.
The stockings were hung by Wes Welker with care,
In hopes that Tom F. Brady soon would be there.
Then in Week One, he went down with a hassle,
They announced, "Brady's down! Say hi to Matt Cassel!"
Some Fantasy owners they barked with chagrin,
"I drafted Tom Terrific! Guess I'm goin' four and ten!"
The Ravens were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of quarterbacks danced in their heads.
Matt Ryan in his 'kerchief, Brett Favre in his cap,
Big Ben settled down for a three-and-out nap.
When out in the flat there arose such a clatter,
Urlacher sprang from the seam to see what was the matter.
Away from the hash mark he flew up the corner,
Tore through the tight end and tattooed Kurt Warner!
The break on the pinkie of the new-fallen Romo
Gave the lustre of mid-day to pass rushers below.
When, what to his wondering eyes should appear,
But eight in the box were eight Buccaneer!
With big Donald Driver, and the mighty L.T.,
I knew in a moment it must be Saint Brees.
More consistent than the Eagles, the offense it came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!
"Now, Rivers! Now, Rodgers! This is gonna be easy!
On, Peyton! On, Eli! Wake up, Brian Griese!
The defense is stingy! The corners are holdin'!
It just doesn't matter! Throw it to Boldin!"
Andre Johnson will play through pain,
Just like my man, Reggie Wayne.
A surprise superstar was a back called Slayton,
While showing his age was poor Mark Clayton.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the lawn
The relentless pounding of a dude named Marshawn.
As I drew in my head, and was spinning around,
Right up the A-hole, Michael Turner abound.
Matt Forte's toes twinkle! How MoJo is merry!
And old Thomas Jones, his nose like a cherry!
Oh, Brian Westbrook, you are gettin' old,
Where would the Bears be without Robbie Gould?
We wonder what happened to Bill Romanowski,
Who cares when your kicker is Stephen Gostkowski?
With round face and belly, I find myself smitten,
By Dallas Clark and Jason Witten.
D'Angelo Williams, Kevin Boss,
A rolling Santana gathers no Moss.
The unsung hero is Kyle Orton,
Jackie Gleason as Cramden used to say, "Hey, Norton!"
He was dressed all in gold, and in black to his eye,
It was easy to tell, this ain't Charlie Frye.
An injured Deuce McAllister he had flung on his back,
And without Reggie Bush, this guy had some sack.
He sprang to his huddle, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, he dropped back out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all! I'll see you in Hawaii, with Lendale White!"
photo taken by my friend Duane as we drove along I-5 in downtown Seattle, Friday afternoon - "Whoa - look at that - there's a bus up there - holy crap - does your phone take pictures?"
Seattle doesn't get much snow. The outlying areas do, places an hour and more away among the mountains, sure, they get a couple/few respectable dumpings a year. But the city itself? This is my fifth winter here and I've spent the winters waiting for winter to begin. We tend to get a light dusting or two each season, the kind that melts within a day or two and you use a broom but not a shovel to clear the sidewalk, if you even bother with it at all. I'm not complaining. I like weather, but I also like dealing with it. Among my fondest memories are the Blizzard of '78 when my dad and I threw my (naked and then-5 year-old) brother into 4 feet of snow, Hurricane Gloria when my family and friends played football in the park, the Super Bowl in Miami a couple years ago when Ed and I rented a Bears-orange convertible but it rained cats and dogs all weekend, a football game in Green Bay when the wind chill took things down to -32 degrees but it was okay because Fran and I had smuggled in some Captain Morgan and the guy next to us had smuggled in some hot chocolate in a thermos and a new cocktail was born...
I've lived in Boston, Syracuse, Jersey, Chicago, and now Seattle. Of these locales, the only one which virtually shuts down after a couple inches of snow is Seattle. Not so coincidentally, the only one of these which does not apply rock salt to the snowy and icy streets is Seattle. Sure, the Emerald City is full of steep hills - but so is Syracuse, where the hills are at least as steep and the city gets more than FIFTEEN TIMES the snow Seattle gets - annual snowfall measured in inches, 115.6 in Syracuse, 7.3 in Seattle, according to the U.S. Dept. of Commerce Climatic Data Center. When it snows in Syracuse, almost every day from early November through late March (and the temperature maintains below freezing throughout, so today's snowfall just sits on top of yesterday's), city trucks spread rock salt on all the streets and city workers spread it on the sidewalks. In fact, as each city has its nickname, Syracuse is aptly known as the Salt City. There, the snow falls and the city with its people and places simply continues to function. Not that I'm dying to move back to Syracuse, but... Here in Seattle, half the businesses close, the lead news story is "Don't Leave the House! The Sky is Falling!" and everyone just clams up. As I watch the city trucks throwing sand - SAND - on the frozen streets, I must request...
Dear City of Seattle:
1. Buy some rock salt: not exclusively an east coast commodity. Also, it melts ice.
2. Lose the sand. Sell it to Alaska. They're nearby and their governor is a dunce.
3. Fill the sand trucks with the rock salt.
4. Apply the ice-melting rock salt as you normally would the non-ice-melting sand.
5. Wonder aloud as the results are, well, there are results.
6. Enjoy the lack of this:
Any questions?
Each December since 2001, I've made a mix CD of music released during the current year, which is sent and given to the people on my xmas card list. I'm sure some people use it for a drink coaster while others anticipate its arrival and rely on it to stay current with music. For me, it's a fun way to prevent waking up one day realizing I haven't explored new music in years. As life with its demanding career and family commitments imposes quite a presence, it happens to most people quite easily and maintaining a moderately healthy consumption of new music is incidentally left behind. For many of my family and friends, that's where I come in. I buy music throughout the year, then there's the inevitable 4th Quarter Scramble where, between catching up on some of the records I meant to buy earlier in the year and the trend of more albums being released during the holiday season, I wind up with headphones on my squash for countless hours in November and half of December. Living with me this time of year must be a joy, as I run around the house with headphones on, looking like the retarded kid in There's Something About Mary. "Franks and beans!"
Choosing which music to include is always fairly taxing. I try to deliver a balance of some stuff that was popular in the mainstream and some that wasn't, to hit you with some things you may already be familiar with or have at least heard of, along with stuff that's entirely new to you, and maybe some music by artists you're familiar with but didn't realize they'd put out a record this year. This year's song list is pleasantly fresh - of the 20 songs, only four of the artists have previously appeared on any of my year-end compilations - Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, Alejandro Escovedo, the Helio Sequence, and Cold War Kids - and they have each appeared only once before (disclosure: not included among the four is Mark Lanegan, who appeared as a solo artist in '04, and this year he appears as a member of the Gutter Twins and as a duet vocalist with Isobel Campbell). I try to be attentive to who the audience for this disc is, because it's a very broad spectrum of people in terms of age, taste, and involvement with music. Some people will have never heard of anything on the disc, even if it includes some songs and artists which are so popular and receive so much publicity that it seems impossible to own a television, a radio, or an Internet connection without being clobbered over the head with it. Other people are so active in their pursuit of new music that by the time a band is playing to audiences of more than 200 and have sold a couple thousand records, it's yesterday's news. Oh, how to please 'em all...
Ultimately, I always issue the disclaimer that this is not a "Best Of" the year proclamation. It's a compilation of music released in 2008 that I found to be good, fun, gripping, interesting, and exciting. Enjoy!
1. Raphael Saadiq feat. Joss Stone - Just One Kiss
This entire album is amazing. While he sounds like he might have been cryogenically frozen in Berry Gordy's Motown factory and thawed out in 2008, in reality, dude was a founding member of Toni! Toni! Tone!
2. M.I.A. - Paper Planes (Bun B & Rich Boy remix)
When your name is Mathangi Arulpragasam, a stage name is a good idea. The original version came out in '07 and was a Top Ten pop hit, by far the most commercially successful thing on this compilation. The version included here was released on a 2008 EP of re-mixes.
3. The Gutter Twins - Idle Hands
A collaboration between Mark Lanegan (of Screaming Trees and Queens of the Stone Age fame) and Greg Dulli (of Afghan Whigs fame). I saw them live and it was the best, most powerful show I saw all year. The album had just been released that day, so nobody had heard the songs yet, but they still had 1,100 people at the Showbox eating out of their hands from the first note.
4. Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds - Dig, Lazarus, Dig!!!
This is one bad-ass Australian. One critic describes his music as driven by "obsessions with religion, death, love, America, and violence with a bizarre, sometimes self-consciously eclectic hybrid of blues, gospel, rock, and arty post-punk..." This guy's music is a compelling earful, to say the least.
5. Alejandro Escovedo - People (We’re Only Gonna Live So Long)
I've loved this guy for years, and the album he put out this year, for my money, is the best he's ever done.
6. Jakob Dylan - All Day And All Night
You may know him as the frontman for the Wallflowers, or as the son of a mildly accomplished song and dance man. His solo debut is recorded in an earthy, organic fashion with modest arrangements that let the songs breathe. Produced by Rick Rubin, who did the early Beastie Boys stuff and more recently the stark, minimalist "comebacks" for Johnny Cash and Neil Diamond.
7. Massy Ferguson - Breathing In
Seattle band. Jessica works with the drummer, Dave. We saw one of their first gigs in '07 and they put out a good album of roots rock in '08. I wouldn't be surprised if these guys quit their day jobs pretty soon.
8. The Hold Steady - Sequestered In Memphis
If music takes you someplace, this should take you to a crowded dump with a loud bar band on stage. Low-grade draft beer in plastic cup optional. Don't worry if you spill some on yourself. This is rock and roll.
9. The Black Keys - I Got Mine
Best band out of Akron since the Pretenders and Devo. These guys have almost made the mix a couple times, and finally do here with their fourth album, produced by Danger Mouse (half of Gnarls Barkley). Rumor has it this album was planned as a collaboration with Ike Turner before his death last year.
10. Isobel Campbell & Mark Lanegan - Come On Over (Turn Me On)
This lovely Scottish lass and founding member of the indie chamber pop darlings Belle & Sebastian has made a couple wonderful solo albums of duets with Lanegan. I'd like her to tell me bedtime stories and maybe write me a song.
11. Gang Gang Dance - House Jam
This Brooklyn-based, arty, percussive, electronic stuff came recommended on a music bulletin board. To some degree, I like going on tips from people I don't really know; you may stumble upon something great, or something that sounds like a chorus of cats being strangled, composed by deaf people. If you like music, you've got to be willing to kiss a few toads before finding a prince. This would be a prince.
12. Hot Chip - Hold On
This quirky, poppy London band was recommended by a DJ friend last year. It's quite catchy, don'tcha think? If some of your body parts aren't moving to this, go see a doctor.
13. The Helio Sequence - Hallelujah
This Portland-based duo was the first band I saw live after moving to Seattle in '04. They were playing under a tent, across from the football stadium before a Seahawks pre-season game, along with other great indie bands Kinksi and Minus the Bear. They've held a special place in heart ever since.
14. Cold War Kids - Welcome to the Occupation
A cool band out of California laments about the rat race. Had tickets to see them open for the White Stripes at the Paramount Theatre a couple years ago, but the entire tour was bagged due to drummer Meg White's "acute anxiety." Whatever, Meg - I'm sure it's rough, fame and fortune in exchange for hitting things with a stick. Finally saw Cold War Kids this year, a short in-store at Easy Street Records. They're good. You like them. Yes, you do.
15. Fleet Foxes - Ragged Wood
A Sub Pop band from Seattle. Bought this CD randomly. Sometimes, when in the record store, it won't kill ya to peruse the New Releases section and buy something randomly, maybe because the artwork is cool, maybe because the name of the band is cool, or for no particular reason. I bet $11.99 on Fleet Foxes and my number came in.
16. MGMT - Time To Pretend
This electro-clash duo formed at Wesleyan University and has hit the bigtime, per 21st Century standards, with their music being placed in t.v. shows, movies, and video games.
17. The Kills - Sour Cherry
A delightful blend of electronic beats and pop hooks makes it easy to like this eclectic punk-blues take on the proven but seldom used hand-jive rhythm.
18. The Breeders - Bang On
Remember these guys and gals from the mid-90s? Theyyyyyyy're baaaaaaaaack... The Deal sisters return with a solid album. Saw them twice this year and this song was a highlight each time.
19. Stereolab - Cellulose Sunshine
Chamber pop genius from a band which continues to be influential and alternative - not like the section of post-grunge schlock in the record store, but actually alternative. Look it up.
20. Snow Patrol - Lifeboats
Plenty of good stuff has come out of Scotland in recent years. Nice harmonies. Nice way to end a disc.
In the final selection stages, some great music ends up on the cutting room floor, and those can be tough choices, but it's part of the process. Some of the artists whose music nearly made it this year but didn't for one reason or another, include: Tom Morello the Nightwatchman, Jay Reatard, TV On The Radio, REM, Steve Cropper & Felix Cavaliere, Jesse Malin, Elvis Costello & the Imposters, Butterfly Assassins, Girl Talk, the B-52s, Of Montreal, Poi Dog Pondering, the Walkmen, Sun Kil Moon, Ratatat, the Dodos, Rachael Yamagata, the Streets, My Morning Jacket, Weezer, and Buddy Guy. Last year in April or May, I emailed everyone who gets this disc and asked who was interested in a "B-Sides" mix of songs that didn't quite make it. A fair number of people took me up on that, and it was fun to do, so we'll be doing it again this year.
* thanks to Jessica for designing the artwork, Li'l Aimee for helping her finalize it, and Theresa the Meatball Queen for the Lynyrd Skynyrd Christmas album.
For all you people with regular television sets, wondering if you're being forced to buy a high definition / plasma / LCD fancy pants t.v. just to watch the network news come February '09... don't believe the hype. While the major retailers (Best Buy et al) are required to honor a government-issued voucher for the digital converter, they're not making as much of a point to advertise that as they are to advertise (and dedicate significant floor and wall space to) a bevy of HD, plasma, and LCD screens. I myself have a 42" plasma t.v. and I love it - got a great deal a couple years ago when a few of 'em fell off the back of a truck in Spokane. Anyway... before you spend money on something you don't necessarily want, here's a Q&A from the January '09 Playboy Advisor (Carmen Electra on the cover - nothing against her, but what's behind her celebrity, other than banging Prince, Dennis Rodman, Dave Navarro, Tommy Lee, and members of Korn and Cypress Hill? Man, this broad has had more dick than a urinal at the YMCA). I get Playboy for the articles, people:
I've heard that televisions using antennae will no longer work in the U.S. after next month. Do I need to buy a new set?
- D.K., St. Louis, Missouri
By government decree, as of midnight on February 17 all major stations will broadcast only in digital. But that doesn't mean you need a new set. If your television was made after about 2003, it likely has a digital tuner. Check your owner's manual. If you subscribe to a cable or satellite service, you won't need a new set. If you have an older one and use an antennae, you'll need a device to convert the digital signal to analog. To request a $40 gift card from Uncle Sam that you can apply to the cost of a converter, visit dtv2009.gov or call 888-388-2009. The boxes cost $40 to $70 each.
In other news, we got some snow last night in Seattle. This only tends to happen once a year, which makes it the lead story in the Sunday paper. (pictured below, that's Champ, not the paper).
It's the day after Thanksgiving. Jessica is co-hosting and serving as a mistress of ceremonies for a Board Game Pub Crawl in our neighborhood. As I write this, she is leading people from one bar to another, playing board games ranging from the heady Settlers of Catan to the simple Hungry Hungry Hippos, fun games like Trivial Pursuit and Scattergories, and much in between. Me, I'm in the heat of the holiday season, listening to music released in 2008, a big project whose result is a mix CD of music released in the current year which I send out as (or instead of) a holiday card to about 100 friends and family. I ponder an activity to accompany this Listening Party For One. Cleaning? Not tonight. Cooking? Sheeeeeit....
I re-visit a simple but delightful dish I used to make, something I've never used a recipe for. When baking, recipes and amounts matter; when cooking, not so much. I get this from my mother, who didn't teach me how to cook as much as she instilled in me the simple philosophy of cooking, which dictates that when given a list of ingredients, the answer to "how much?" is often "to taste" or "by sight." This approach has always served me well and I stand by it. Also, when cooking, overestimating what you'll need is always fine, particularly with this dish, because Chicken Parm travels quite nicely in Tupperware for lunch at work, and as a leftover. Rather than offer ingredient quantities and serving sizes, I'll tell you what you need to make a pan of chicken parm, so without further ado...
What You Need:
Chicken - boneless, skinless, breast
Tomato Sauce - any tomato-based sauce (I use Classico tomato & basil)
Cheese - shredded parmesan and/or mozzarella
Bread Crumbs - buy it seasoned or buy it plain and season it yourself
Eggs - I use 3 whether I'm cooking for 2 or 22
Flour
Olive Oil
PREP WORK:
1. SET OUT GARBAGE & RECYCLING
Accessible receptacles will save you time, brothers and sisters.
1. PRE-HEAT the oven to 375.
2. POT OF WATER w/ a dash of salt & olive oil - put it on the stove on medium-high
3. ASSEMBLY LINE on your counter. No counter? Bring a table into the kitchen, a card table, t.v. tables, laundry folding table, whatever. Left to Right, you want:
Raw Chicken - Flour - Beaten Eggs - Bread Crumbs - Breaded Chicken - it'll look something like this:
Clockwise from lower left: raw chicken, flour, egg, bread crumbs, chicken ready to be fried. Just off to the right, your fried chicken. Separate layers with paper towels.
Now...
Frying Pan - put it on low-medium heat (3-4 on electric) with a shallow pond of Olive Oil. You'll be throwing chicken in here very shortly.
PRE-PRODUCTION
1. DIP. Move clockwise from lower left by taking a piece of chicken, cover in flour, then egg, then bread crumbs, then put it on the plate. When the plate is full of breaded chicken...
2. FRY. LIGHTLY Throw the breaded chicken in the frying pan and turn the heat up to medium (6-7 on electric). Fry until lightly golden brown, just enough for some crispy.
3. DIP/FRY ROTATION. While the first plate of chicken is frying, repeat the Assembly Line process. When the plate is full, you're ready to flip the chicken in the frying pan(s). 
4. LINE THAT PAN. With marinara sauce. Don't go crazy, just enough to cover the bottom.
5. LAYER. The pan is lined. Cover the surface area with your lightly fried chicken. Now, sprinkle some cheese on top. Not too much, just some, this cheese is secondary in presentation but primary in taste, for it is the only cheese which will melt right on the chicken and thus guaranteed to be in every bite.
Now... add a layer of marinara sauce and be healthy. Don't use ALL your sauce. You want some extra just in case, and it's nice to add a little to leftovers. But, be liberal in your sauce application. You can never have too much sauce. It's good for bread-dipping and good for bringing microwaved leftovers to life.
Now... THROW SOME CHEESE ON THAT THANG!!!
Cover the pan. Throw it in the oven. Bake, 12-15 minutes on 350-375...
Now, throw your pasta into the pot of water.
Done. Fresh out of the oven, it'll look somethin' like this:
While your masterpiece cools down for a few, strain your pasta and throw some in the bottom of the bowls or plates. Then, put some chicken parm on top. Sprinkle some shredded parmesan or Romano cheese on there and, if you're a sloppy bastard like me, it'll look kinda like this:
Ed and I went to see our football team, the New England Patriots, play in Seattle today. Close game, Pats won, 24-21 in the final two minutes. Seattle sports fans... I have issues with you but will not share them today. Thanks to our friend Spiro for the tickets - way upstairs and on the 50, a very nice way to watch a game.
Turkey Day was wonderful. Aside from spending it with Jessica, Ed and Britta, and four others I met for the first time at Ruby and Jorge's house - which was just nice, a meal Ruby put together worthy of a Norman Rockwell painting - I stumbled across an easy and tasty desert recipe. Ed and I have a tradition of drinking Grand Marnier on special occasions, particularly Turkey Day. We don't have enough snifters for the 10-person group we shared this holiday with, and when properly served this liqueur requires that kind of glass in order to enjoy the smell-to-taste experience that makes it special. So, I went to Grand Marnier's website and got a desert recipe which allowed me to show up at Ruby & Jorge's with a dish, while also maintaining the tradition of consuming the stuff with my brother on Thanksgiving. The recipe is easy as hell, and of course you can make it with or without Grand Marnier, or substitute in a couple shots of espresso, some vanilla, or any other flavor you wish. Here it is:
CHOCOLATE MOUSSE
Recipe serves ten - small but rich portions.
6 eggs
separate the whites, all in one bowl
separate the yolks, 4 in one bowl and 2 in another
12 oz. bittersweet chocolate
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup butter
1/4 cup Grand Marnier (or your element of choice)
1. Start melting chocolate on low heat.
2. In separate bowl, beat the egg whites with an electric beater.
3. As whites get foamy, slowly add sugar while beating.
4. Combine butter with melted chocolate, keep on warm/low.
5. Add 2 yolks to egg white mixture and keep beating until foamy again.
6. Combine 4 yolks and Grand Marnier to chocolate mixture.
7. Fold chocolate mixture in with egg white mixture, slowly w/ rubber spatula.
8. When mixture is consistent, refrigerate.
9. when cold (an hour or more), serve in small portions.
* serve in anything small - martini glasses, rocks glasses, etc. If you use espresso in the recipe, serving in coffee cups is a nice touch.
Whipped Cream:
You can top it off with a squirt of whipped cream from the can, but you could easily impress your guests with the homemade stuff:
1 cup heavy cream
1 tbsp. confectioners sugar
1 tbsp. vanilla extract
1. In a chilled bowl, or a bowl on ice, whip the heavy cream. Whip it like Devo. Whip it good. About 2 minutes.
2. Add sugar and vanilla, whip to fluffy peaks, about 2 minutes.
Keys to a Good Mousse:
a. use good quality chocolate - Ghirardelli, Godiva, etc.
b. egg whites are best used at room temperature - not cold.
c. [a] and [b] are very important. Don't ignore the advice.
This takes just a few minutes to make, perfect for a dinner party or casual get together. You can whip this up, throw it in the fridge, then by the time you're done making and eating the main course, the mousse is ready. Most people focus their effort and creativity on the main course and then finish with a store-bought desert. Why run a good race and then phone it in at the finish line?
That is all. Enjoy the leftover turkey/stuffing/cranberry sammies. I know I will.
I understand late-night infomercials, but I don't understand the ones filmed in front of a 1,000-person live audience. They must be in Florida. Who the f**k else is inclined to sit and watch former vacuum cleaner salesmen and carneys pitch such awe-inspiring items as inexplicably-absorbent fabrics, physical-law-defying stain removers, picture hooks that leave no visible holes in the wall, and all the real estate and stock tips you'll ever need to become rich without leaving the house or knowing anything.
I love sports, especially football, but every time I hear the "word" outphysicalled spoken by a professional broadcaster with a college degree - particularly Chris Berman, a Brown grad - I want to stab myself in the eyes. I realize that related and longer-accepted words like outdid and outran are no better, but for some reason, outphysicalled just bugs the crap out of me. Maybe I'm being unfair. But to be fair, let's examine:
[1] "Great job, Hank. You truly outdid yourself on that project, you jackass."
* present tense: you can do something. Crack, for example.
vs.
[2] "Man-O-War outran That Other Horse to win the Derby, - say goodbye to junior's college fund!"
* present tense: you can run somewhere. From the cops, perhaps.
vs.
[3] "The Cowboys executed their game plan, but they were outphysicalled by the Jets and that's why they lost but at least they covered the spread!"
* present tense? You can not physical something.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury... your honor... I rest my case.
In a few hours, the annual Apple Cup game is being played between Washington State University and the University of Washington. The teams have a combined record of 1-19 and each team has lost six consecutive games by more than 20 points. I, for one, am on the edge of my seat. Who sucks less? I need to know!
The English language is losing ground. I'm no authority - technically, I didn't even finish college - but I'm smarter than the average slob and good god man, it's out of control. Looky here:
Nothing to get excited about: The indifferent 'meh' gains place in English dictionary
By JILL LAWLESS | Associated Press Writer
7:23 PM EST, November 16, 2008
LONDON (AP) _ At least someone is excited about "meh."
The expression of indifference or boredom has gained a place in the Collins English Dictionary after generating a surprising amount of enthusiasm among lexicographers.
Publisher HarperCollins announced Monday the word had been chosen from terms suggested by the public for inclusion in the dictionary's 30th anniversary edition, to be published next year.
The origins of "meh" are murky, but the term grew in popularity after being used in a 2001 episode of "The Simpsons" in which Homer suggests a day trip to his children Bart and Lisa.
"They both just reply 'meh' and keep watching TV," said Cormac McKeown, head of content at Collins Dictionaries.
The dictionary defines "meh" as an expression of indifference or boredom, or an adjective meaning mediocre or boring. Examples given by the dictionary include "the Canadian election was so meh."
The dictionary's compilers said the word originated in North America, spread through the Internet and was now entering British spoken English.
"This is a new interjection from the U.S. that seems to have inveigled its way into common speech over here," McKeown said. "Internet forums and e-mail are playing a big part in formalizing the spellings of vocal interjections like these. A couple of other examples would be 'hmm' and 'heh.'
"Meh" was selected by Collins after it asked people to submit words they use in conversation that are not in the dictionary. Other suggestions included jargonaut, a fan of jargon; frenemy, an enemy disguised as a friend; and huggles, a hybrid of hugs and snuggles.
A. This "word" has been in popular use since the mid-90s.
2. This "word" is not a word. Well, I guess now it is. I stand corrected.
III. WHAT THE SH*T IS GOING ON HERE???
Perhaps next year's list will include such gems as L8R, furreals, and whatevs. Please, someone, blow my f**king head off now. Give me five minutes notice, though, so I can cue up a good song and go out in proper fashion. For f**k's sake.
Here we go, an entry that is 100% guaranteed to be free of politics, social issues, and any other timely item that might be up my cornhole.
Instead, I will extol the virtues of feeding your dog raw food. With Champ on the program for 9-10 months, I brought him in for vaccinations last month and before revealing his current diet, the vet commented that having seen him for four years now, he has never appeared healthier. She said, "Whatever you're doing with him, keep doing it." With validation from my vet, I now pass the diet along to you. Now, Champ weighs 60 lbs. and this daily diet may give him a little more food than he really needs, but it's healthy and his weight hasn't increased. Adjust the volumes accordingly with respect to your dog's size and weight.
Meat: 1/2 cup
I use stew beef because it's already cut into nugget-size pieces. You could use any steak, just no ground beef.
Oats: 2/3 - 3/4 cup
Quaker Oats, generic brand, doesn't matter. Instant, traditional, doesn't matter. I use instant because the pieces are smaller.
Carrots: 1/2 cup or one serving of baby food
I used to chop and puree organic carrots and then switched to the baby food. It's a little more spendy but it saves time and it's broken down for the simple digestive system of an infant, which is comparable to the simple system in a dog. I noticed that when Champ would do his business, the chopped and pureed veggies were coming out whole. My uneducated guess is that the baby food digests better. But we digress...
Greens: 1/2 cup or one serving of baby food
Same deal as the carrots. You can get frozen organic green beans, spinach, or peas, cheap, nuke the stuff and throw it into the mix. Or go the baby food route.
Protein:
Your three primary options are [1] 2 tbsp. of cottage cheese, [2] 1/2 cup of plain yogurt, or [3] two raw eggs. I normally use cottage cheese. If you're using veggies and carrots instead of baby food (above), you may be better off going with yogurt or eggs for your protein, as those things will bring a better consistency to the mix that you may need without the baby food, a glue (if you will) to bond the oats and the meat. So pairing your carrots and greens with your protein, veggies go well with yogurt or eggs and baby food goes well with cottage cheese. You can also blend your protein, as in, rather than choosing 2 tbsp. of cottage cheese or 2 eggs, you can go with 1 tbsp. cottage cheese and 1 egg. Use your imagination. Even in this simple diet, the options abound!
Mix it all up, brothers and sisters.
Organic ingredients are best. Costco/QFC/Safeway/Jewel – they all have everything you need. Buy in bulk from Costco and this diet should cost less than $2/day, not much more than the highest quality dog food. And to be sure, THIS DIET IS A WHOLE LOT BETTER FOR YOUR DOG.
Get some Tupperware or Ziploc containers and make several days of meals at a time. I make 6-7 days at a time and it takes 20-30 minutes.
Freeze and then defrost anything that’ll be served more than 2 days out. You wouldn’t eat 3-day-old leftovers from the fridge and neither should your dog. The bacteria would make you sick, and dogs have more primitive and sensitive digestive systems than we do. Plus, the meals break out into conveniently sized chunks after they’ve been frozen and thawed, compared to the slightly more “goopy” meals that never get frozen. So, make a new batch of meals when you’re down to 2-3 days worth to allow time for the freeze & thaw process (one day for each).
Good treats for clean teeth and tartar control: Milk Bone, DentaStix, DentaBone, Vitality, Breathies, and the like. Any dry treat that’s made for these purposes is good.
Mix it up, watch your dog love it, and enjoy the years it’ll add to his or her life. You could also get him a new hat.
Saturday
Worked on number-crunching day job stuff until 4:30am, napped until 6 and got up for the 8:30am flight to Chicago. Arrived at O’Hare around 2:30pm, took the Blue Line to Grand, then the 65 bus to Michigan, walked upstairs and there I was, home base for this trip, 535 N. Michigan Ave., right in the heart of the Magnificent Mile, courtesy of my friend Brian, who was able to set me up in an empty unit for my stay because (a) his unit is nearly cubed out with boxes of hockey gear, leaving no room for a guest, and (b) as the president of the building’s condo association he holds the keys to an empty unit. My man was gracious enough to throw an air mattress and a t.v. up in that bitch, along with some soap and bath towels. Add a couple camping chairs and God DAMN! 
Brian gets home from a campaign meeting, we have a beer while watching the first period of the Blackhawks game, and now we're going to dinner with some people. When Brian asks someone where the place is and then replies, "Oh yeah, 26th and California! Right next to the prison!" he is referring to Cook County Jail. I chuckle and he says, "Look! As a government employee, sometimes I go to the jail, okay?" I know that Brian has never been incarcerated - he's the most honest person this side of Jessica - but it doesn't stop me from breaking his balls for the rest of the trip. Alas, we enjoy a delightfully fine and cheap meal with some of the folks I'll see again and work with on this trip. $1.45 tacos rule.
Sunday
Brian and I enjoy breakfast at Mary's Cafe before an 8am meet-up in the Jewel parking lot at Clark & Division. There, we gather with some members of Illinois Veterans For Obama, including its chairperson, Adam. From here, connecting with more people en route at the Indiana Skyway, our 14-person, 5-car convoy rolls out to Obama's field office in Gary, Indiana.
After a quick stop in Gary, we're off to the field office in Porter County. We later learn that our convoy to Indiana is just one of many from Chicago this weekend. As one of the four key battleground states in this presidential election, Get Out The Vote efforts are particularly focused here. The Hoosier State hasn't voted for a Democratic presidential candidate since LBJ in '64, and Obama is currently a few points behind in the polls here. My group is in Porter County today because there's a high concentration of veterans and children of veterans here.
The way Get Out The Vote works is, they generate lists of registered voters and then break the lists out into "turfs" or walking routes. A turf may include anywhere from 25-50 addresses or people, depending on the size and density of the route. Whether you've signed up to volunteer in advance or not (walk-ins are always welcome), you visit a campaign field office where you're given a quick tutorial if you need one, a clipboard with your list and a map of your route, and some printed materials from Vote For Change and local voting info. You walk the route, ringing doorbells and knocking on doors. At each point of contact, all you know is that the person whose name, age, phone number and gender is on the GOTV list is a registered voter. Earlier in the campaign, GOTV efforts were focused on talking points to influence people's vote. In the final two weeks, you shift focus on just making sure people know how to vote early, where to vote on Election Day, and what times the polls open and close. You give them printed info on these things provided by the field office, ask them if they need a ride to the polls (GOTV volunteers will take care of that) and if they'd like to volunteer on Election Day. I first hit the ground with the aforementioned Adam, a Kosovo vet, and Terrence, a Vietnam vet who works for the Human Rights organization Heartland Alliance (below).
My experience in Indiana is mixed, as most canvassing efforts tend to be. Half the people on your list aren't home, so you leave materials on their porch or on the door knob (but not in the mailbox - federal offense, no can do). Of the remaining half, some are nice and others are not; those voting for Obama are positive and friendly, while those voting for McCain tend to be somewhat unfriendly. One redneck looked at my Obama '08 hat and said, "Keep walkin', liberal faggot." Being called a faggot by a guy who is most likely a functional illiterate who has jerked off to his sister never fails to be the highlight of any day. Everybody sing along with Little Johnny Cougar: "Thiiiiiis is AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA COUNTREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!"
After a good 9-10 hour day, we return to the Windy City hoping our efforts and those of many others will help move the needle enough that our candidate has a chance to take Indiana on Tuesday. Adam and I kick our feet up and discuss volunteer work, public service, and the idea of a 21st century period of enlightenment over an ice cold Coke in his apartment. This guy is impressive, this Adam. Having served in Kosovo in the Marine Corps, he's just not your stereotypical veteran. After working in sales and public relations, he took stock of the world and his place in it, and dove headlong into a life of volunteer work and service, enough so that he eventually left the private sector for a full-time job as a precinct captain under Chicago's 42nd ward alderman Brendan Reilly, man regarded by Chicago insiders as the odds on favorite to eventually succeed mayor Richard M. Daley, whenever Da Mare chooses to retire (my guess: 2014). Adam sincerely believes that an Age of Enlightenment is upon us, and that this election will be considered its first mover. I'm not sure I believe this, but after spending time with Adam, I'm not sure I don't, either. With twelve ounces of carbonated refreshment and a half hour of quality dialogue in me, I head back over to 535 N. Michigan where Brian and I share a pizza from Gino's East and watch the Patriots-Colts game.
Monday
No major campaign activity today. With a sore back and knowing what a long day tomorrow will be, I spend most of the day laying on the floor, in between breakfast at the Bongo Room and dinner at Pizzeria Uno. I love me some deep dish.
Tuesday Morning at the Polls.
Waking up at 5am, I can't be sure what the next twenty or so hours will bring, but I do know that either way, we're all gonna wake up tomorrow feeling differently than we did today. From 6am - 11:30, I work as a Pollwatcher in the 53rd precinct. Because this is an odd-numbered precinct, there are three Republican election judges and two Democrats. My job is to keep an eye on the judges and make sure they're following the rules. I catch one of the judges unnecessarily challenging some voters rights and fortunately, we're able to keep things above board. The cycle repeats itself a handful of time like this: I catch the Republican election judge cheating, he says "okay, fine" and then does the right thing, then repeats a few minutes later, and so on. In addition to the official bound list of registered voters in the precinct, there is also a supplemental list provided by the Board of Elections which represents those voters whose registration was processed after the print production of the binder was underway. On several occasions, this one judge tries telling voters whose names are on the supplemental list that they could either wait for him to call the Board of Elections to verify his/her registration (which could take a few minutes) or alternatively vote using a provisional ballot. Knowing that the voters are on their way to work and won't want to wait around, it's likely they'd choose the provisional ballot to save time. The problem is, [1] these people are registered and have the same rights as those whose names are in the binder, and [2] provisional ballots are seldom counted, pending how close the election results are, so by manipulating these unsuspecting voters toward the provisional, this judge is essentially (also unnecessarily and unfairly) trying to render their votes useless. Similarly, this judge challenges people whose middle initial is found on their driver's license but not on their voter registration, or vice versa, even when the address, date of birth, and signature match. Challenging these bullshit suppress-the-vote tactics isn't difficult, but it becomes more annoying each time.
Tuesday Afternoon on the Phones.
While keeping Johnny GOP in line, I'm also working with a list of the registered Democrats in the precinct who'd voted in the primaries. As each voter casts a ballot, I'd cross his/her name off the list. Periodically, someone from the 42nd Ward Democrats swings by to take my list and I resume with a fresh one. What they're doing is taking the marked-up lists to a law office whose admin folks would scrub the lists to hide the names of those who'd voted in the morning, then re-print and put them into the phone bank, which is just a bunch of people sitting around a conference table, calling the precinct's registered Democrats who hadn't voted yet to remind them it's Election Day, let them know where their polling location is, the polls close at 7pm, anyone who's in line at 7 has the right to vote, and give them the number of the law office to call in case anyone at the poll tries to tell them otherwise. At lunchtime, I head over to the phone bank a couple blocks away and bang out about 300 calls in 3-4 hours. 
Jessica arrives at O'Hare, takes the El downtown and meets me at the phone bank. We grab a bite and start making our way down to what has unofficially become known as "Obamapalooza" - our candidate's Election Night rally in Grant Park.
Obamapalooza: Rally in Grant Park
65,000 free tickets were distributed via Obama's email list of volunteers, and we got a pair. What an awesome scene, thousands of people descending upon the park for what turned out to be an extremely well-run, smooth event. The entire Chicago Police Dept. is on the clock, on foot, on horseback, in cars and on scooters and dune buggies. The crowd is well behaved. We situate and watch the results roll in via CNN on the JumboTron. At a point, an analyst says that Virginia is the remaining battleground state which McCain, though not mathematically removed from the contest, would need to win if he were to have a continued fighting chance in the election. Moments later, CNN announces "Obama Takes Virginia" and the place goes bananas. 65,000 people inside the rally proper and another estimated (by CNN and the Chicago Tribune) 160,000 outside of it let out a roar unlike any other I've heard, including Super Bowls and Springsteen concerts. We're amidst a collective euphoria that ripples throughout America and whose epicenter is right here where we stand. This is why we traveled to Chicago this week, to be a part of something that will be taught in U.S. history for the rest of civilization. This is why I've been involved in this campaign, to participate in the democratic process at this precise moment in time, a time in which the stakes are high and the future depends so heavily on exactly how America chooses today. Just minutes later, at around 9:45pm Central... Barack Obama, that skinny young senator from Illinois whose middle name is Hussein and who 98% of Americans had never heard of just two years ago, is announced as the President-elect, to become the first black president in U.S. history. We're numb. Virginia whipped this place into a frenzied ovation, and with the declaration of victory, this surreal moment has us drunk on the realization of hope. Everyone is looking at each other as if to say, "I believed this could happen, I believed that it would, but is it REALLY HAPPENING?" About twenty minutes later, Republican candidate John McCain issues a dignified concession speech. Even and especially among this crowd of Obama's most passionate supporters, Senator McCain impresses the world with his poise and class. The verbal reactions from the crowd are positive and respectful. Obama's acceptance speech is gripping, more sober and less emotive than many of the speeches we've seen him deliver on the campaign trail. Among that which he touches on, I am most impressed when he addresses those who did not vote for him, "whose support I have yet to earn, I may not have won your vote tonight, but I hear your voices, I need your help, and I will be your President, too." By invoking Lincoln, who not so coincidentally came from Illinois and who carried Republican values to the White House while facing a nation more divided than ours, President-elect Obama has set the tone for breaking down the barriers of party lines in favor of a more nationalist sense of Americanness.
Some photos from the event:
Yesterday, Jessica asked what this election has meant to me, what Barack Obama has meant to me, and what caused me to become involved. I think my answer would resemble that of many others. I've always been interested in politics, public policy, and have always enjoyed discussing the issues of the day with anyone who brings a relatively thoughtful point of view to the table. Though I've felt pretty strongly about the candidates I've supported in past elections, not until this one has my support been exerted in the form of time, energy, and a few bucks. Not until this one have I actively participated, working the phone banks, canvassing, and truly being a part of it. So, why now? Why this election, this candidate? The answer is, it does have something to do with the state of the affairs in the U.S. today. Things aren't good. Our country's recent absence of diplomacy, a misguided military presence, a failing economy, and a lackluster global image do not add up to something we should be proud of. In 2004, we managed to re-elect an unpopular President with the lowest approval rating in history. Since then, an already sordid state of affairs has become worse. So, in part, 2008 has been the time to get involved. But more than anything, without a close second, it was the candidate. Barack Obama is the kind of politician we have not seen until now. He is at once an intellectual, a pragmatist, a true leader; a man of tremendous character, temperament and judgment; a diligent and sincere public servant of the highest order. He has compelled millions of us to get off our asses and play a role in the democratic process, to be a part of something great and historic, to collectively reclaim the ownership of our country. Patti Smith wrote "People Have the Power" but it doesn't amount to a hill of beans unless we get it together and use it. And that's all we did. Better, now that we know it's possible, that's all we'll continue to do. Yes We Can became Yes We Did which shall become Yes We Will and Yes We Do.
Jessica strikes the showstopper pose after the rally:
Chicago PD cruises down Michigan Ave.
Digesting the evening with a cheeseburger and a Coke at the Billy Goat:
