WORD

sang-froid [Fr. sahN-fRwA] n.  coolness of mind; calmness; composure: They committed the robbery with complete sang-froid

BIRTHDAY

Andrew Carnegie (1835), Eddie Shore (1902), Joe DiMaggio (1914), Percy Sledge (1941), Ben Stein (1944), John Larroquette (1947), Amy Grant (1960), John F. Kennedy Jr. (1960), Mark Lanegan (1964), Christina Applegate (1971), Donovan McNabb (1976), Dolla (1987)

STANDPOINT

One of my greatest friends is Joe. I’ve mentioned him before. He’s someone special.

And he’s also kind of this blog’s watchdog. When I miss a day (or three), or post something subpar, Joe’s the first one to let me know, whether through a scathing comment on a particular post, a verbal tirade on GMail chat, or an obscenity-laden phone call. Most of these responses center on his annoyance with the fact I call this the daily euneJeune, and I’m not exactly stringent about the whole “daily” thing.

I love it. Because it comes from Joe and he’s one of the few people out there in the world who knows me very well, and wants to be my friend anyway.

Also, Joe and I have two things in common: (a) We’re able to drink more alcohol than any two people at any bar anywhere, and (b) We’re most likely the funniest people you’ll ever meet. And, no, the alcohol has nothing to do with why we think we’re a goddam riot. Although it doesn’t hurt.

In any case, Joe and I have this routine of exchanging late night texts, mainly because each of us know the other is most likely awake and not sober. 99% of the texts’ subject material has to do with movie quotes. And of that 99%, probably 98% deal directly with the obscure black comedy, Clifford, starring Charles Grodin and Martin Short.

As a tribute to my friend Joe, I offer the following video clip.

QUOTATION

I think we dream so we don’t have to be apart so long.  If we’re in each other’s dreams, we can play together all night. → Bill Watterson

TUNE

I’ve always loved the lyrics and music of Procol Harum’s “A Whiter Shade of Pale.” It came on yesterday at the perfect time. And, so, I now share it with you.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ As we all knew it would, Antarctica has declared war on New Zealand. Tired of living in the shadow of its more “tourist-friendly” neighbor, the frozen wasteland has launched hundreds of icebergs in a desperate attempt to get some headlines. Some experts are saying it’s not an attack at all and probably has something to do with global warming. Other experts are saying there’s too much ice in Antarctica and it’s natural to jettison some of the dead weight. The same experts also suggested people get off global warming’s back. However, all the experts agree the iceberg assault will have little effect on New Zealand, prompting a disheartened Antarctica to go back to the drawing board.

→ Finally, MTV makes a show I would actually watch  – about a squad of young Italian summertime renters at the Jersey shore – cleverly titled “Jersey Shore,” and wouldn’t you know it? There’s a group of Italian-Americans that wants to block it. Of course.

→ No new posts until Monday. What with the holiday and all. Also, be careful out there tonight. It’s the biggest bar night of the year. And drunk idiots make it suck pretty hard. Just take the following advice: Make sure to drive fast and take chances. OK. It’s not really advice.

WORD

ancillary [an-suh-ler-ee or, especially Brit., an-sil-uh-ree] adj. 1. subordinate; subsidiary 2. auxiliary; assisting ∞ n. 3. something that serves in an ancillary capacity: Slides, records, and other ancillaries can be used with the basic textbook

Note: A friend of mine used “ancillary” in a sentence the other day, and I was ashamed to admit, while I determined the word’s meaning from the context, I was unable to accurately define it.

BIRTHDAY

Bat Masterson (1853), Scott Joplin (1868), Dale Carnegie (1888), Lucky Luciano (1897), William F. Buckley Jr. (1925), Paul Tagliabue (1940), Pete Best (1941), Ted Bundy (1946), Dwight Schultz (1947), Linda Tripp (1949), Denise Crosby (1957), Edgar Meyer (1960), Keith Primeau (1971), Colin Hanks (1977), Katherine Heigl (1978)

STANDPOINT

Man! Everyone is going batshit over the recent release of The Twilight Saga: New Moon.

And, I mean, my guess is all the praise is warranted.

It was, most likely, a great movie. All the inferred twists. All the supposed turns. The brooding guy with the wall of hair was expected to be really good. The rest of the cast seemed superb, especially those dudes who turn into werewolves. The one scene, where the one werewolf is chasing some girl across a backyard toward a house and, then, some guy shows up on the porch, and he starts running at the action, but once he nears the sprinting young lady, he jumps over her while becoming a werewolf himself, taking a defensive stance as if to suggest to the werewolf who was originally in pursuit, “Hey, dude! You can’t eat her. I’m kinda digging on her. You cool with that?” 

Maybe he was cool with that. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was annoyed because this guy liked the girl who was running. Maybe he was annoyed because this guy liked every fucking girl he ever saw who was running. Maybe he’d finally had enough. Maybe he decided, right then and there, in that backyard, he was going to take a stand. Maybe something happened after that where the girl miraculously lived. Maybe she tragically died.

I’ll never know. I’ve only seen the previews. And that’s all I’m ever gonna see.

QUOTATION

If you don’t like doing something, but you still spend most of every day doing it, then you’re cheating yourself. If you hate your job – and you probably do – and fantasize endlessly about quitting, then you should quit. Quit the job you hate. I’ll say it two more times: Quit the job you hate. Quit the job you hate. → Ted Rall

TUNE

 So, something great someone can do is introduce you to quality music that, otherwise, would’ve never come your way. Two nights ago, I was with an (increasingly) good friend playing Scrabble (the result of which was a draw, no question), drinking red wine and listening to a guy named Joe Pisapia on the stereo. Solid stuff. Try “River Song” and you’ll know I’m right. Like I’m right about this supposedly dubious Scrabble outcome.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ When reading online news, I rarely smile. However, reading about Oprah ending her “talk show” brought on an ear-to-ear grin that almost hurt my cheeks. OK. Not really. But I am psyched about it.

→ I’m encouraging everyone of you to take a serious look at every book in your house after I read about a London family who’d no clue there was a first edition of Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species sitting in the bathroom for the past 40 years or so.

→ OK. You caught me. I haven’t been updating this blog as much as I used to. I apologize for the fact I’ve recently rediscovered that, after a year hiatus, I’m allowed to have a life. Awww. I can’t stay mad at you folks. I’ll update as much as I can. Thanks for reading. Seriously.

Sorry, all, have been busy doing fun stuff and working. But come back Monday for some more.

By the way, I’ll be tending bar all weekend long at Parc Bistro in Skippack. Come on in and see me.

WORD

paragon [par-uh-gon, -guhn] n. 1. a model or pattern of excellence or of a particular excellence 2. Printing. a 20-point type 3. an unusually large, round pearl ∞ v. 4. to compare; parallel 5. to be a match for; rival

BIRTHDAY

Asa Gray (1810), Dorothy Dix (1861), George Gallup (1901), Imogene Coca (1908), Hank Ballard (1927), Don Cherry (1936), Margaret Atwood (1939), Linda Evans (1942), Graham Parker (1950), Delroy Lindo (1952), Kevin Nealon (1953), Elizabeth Perkins (1960), Owen Wilson (1968), Duncan Sheik (1969), Mike Epps (1970), Chloë Sevigny (1974)

STANDPOINT

OK. What’s irking the shit out of me today is quite simple. People keep asking me, “Why do you write so angry?”

Yes. I write angry. Yes. I am occassionally an angry person. But that doesn’t mean much of anything except I’m one of those folks who’s easily bothered by the people I come into contact with everyday. And you may not be one of those folks. And that’s fine. But maybe you should be.

You see, my problem with people thinking I’m too angry is there aren’t enough of you out there who are remotely angry enough. Being angry or annoyed is not cool because everyone wants everyone to just be cool. But, the truth is, there aren’t enough of you out there acting remotely cool enough.

And, so, if I tend to get a bit animated or a little too passionate about the current state of most everything, you’ll have to forgive me. I’m just not down with everyone being so goddam down about stuff.

QUOTATION

What I’ve learned about teaching is to refer back to the root of that word, which is educo, which means “to pull from.” Education does not mean jamming information into somebody’s head. Rather, it’s that ancient idea that all knowledge is within us; to teach is to help somebody pull it out of themselves. → Alan Arkin

TUNE

Tonight, I’m headed down, with Jer and Ezgi, to World Cafe Live in Philadelphia to see Blind Pilot. I hope I hear “The Story I Heard.” I really can’t imagine a scenario where I wouldn’t.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ Suddenly, pharmaceutical companies have come to the conclusion it might be a good idea to get into the preventive medicine business, instead of the curbing and/or curing side of it. In the next five years, there may be vaccines available for such maladies as Alzheimer’s disease, AIDS, Malaria, grass allergies and even something called traveler’s diarrhea. With the soaring prices of prescriptions and the subsequent scramble to find other options like the internet and Canada, maybe someone at one of these companies said somethig like, “Hey, what if we switch gears and actually try to find a genuine way to help people? I mean, we’ve tried everything else, right? Let’s give it a shot.” Funny, how a completely fucked economical situation can bring out the best in people.

→ A group of Native Americans, who’d filed a suit against the Washington Redskins over the use of the name “Redskins,” had their case tossed out by the US Supreme Court yesterday for, from what I can tell, is a complete technicality. I’m no lawyer, though, so I could easily be wrong. However, what I’m completely unwrong about is that the NFL franchise should just give up the name. We’re headed toward the future here, people, let’s keep our eyes on the ball. (Plus, the Redskins are so bad I’m sure hardly anyone would notice if they became the Washington Suckasses.)

→ Jonathan Safran Foer, author of one of my favorite books of all-time, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, has a new non-fiction novel coming out titled Eating Animals. Check out his interview with the AV Club.

WORD

jive [jahyv] n. 1. swing music or early jazz 2. the jargon associated with swing music and early jazz 3. Slang. deceptive, exaggerated, or meaningless talk: Don’t give me any of that jive! ∞ v. 4. to play jive 5. to dance to jive; jitterbug 6. Slang. to engage in kidding, teasing, or exaggeration 7. Slang. to tease; fool; kid: Stop jiving me! ∞ adj. 8. Slang. insincere, pretentious, or deceptive

BIRTHDAY

Frank Calder (1877), Soichiro Honda (1906), Gordon Lightfoot (1938), Martin Scorsese (1942), Lauren Hutton (1943), Danny DeVito (1944), Lorne Michaels (1944), Gene Clark (1944), Stephen Root (1951), Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio (1958), Jeff Buckley (1966), Sophie Marceau (1966), Daisy Fuentes (1966), Kimya Dawson (1972)

STANDPOINT

Short and sweet today. I’m really quite annoyed with the all the goddamn Christmas ads, sales, etc. that are all ready all over the place.

Despite my misanthropic tendencies, I’m really kind of a softie in some ways. I like the holidays. I do.

But this time of year has been kind of tainted, for me, by all the commercialism. Even those of you out there who possess the unending optimism I enjoy frowning upon know this to be true.

For lack of a better, more definitive sentiment: BAH! HUMBUG!

QUOTATION

There are about five things to write songs about: I’m leaving you. You’re leaving me. I want you. You don’t want me. I believe in something. Five subjects, and twelve notes. For all that, we musicians do pretty well. → Elvis Costello

TUNE

I know. I’m beating this HTC commercial thing into the ground. I just like it. Really like it. More than I like most people. For those of you wondering what song is actually playing, it’s a remix of “Sinnerman” by Nina Simone. One of the comments on YouTube simply reads, “Futureproof.” Sums it up.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ Oprah Winfrey and Sarah Palin were on the same stage and no one thought to do the proper thing and plant explosives. Christ, people, do I have to think of everything?

→ In what’s becoming sadly commonplace, another celebrity has died young. Ken Ober, the host of the late-80s MTV game show “Remote Control,” passed away yesterday at the age of 52. As of yet, no one’s sure how.

→ All right, on a personal note, here’s a picture of my favorite piece of art – “Woman with a Water Jug” by Johannes Vermeer. It’s only 18 in. by 16 in. The detail is amazing. Best part is that the painting currently resides in New York City at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

WORD

foment [foh-ment] v. 1. to instigate or foster (discord, rebellion, etc.); promote the growth or development of: to foment trouble; to foment discontent 2. to apply warm water or medicated liquid, ointments, etc., to (the surface of the body)

BIRTHDAY

Tiberius (42 BC), Eddie Condon (1905), Burgess Meredith (1908), Griff Rhys Jones (1953), Dwight Gooden (1964), Diana Krall (1964), Lisa Bonet (1967), Martha Plimpton (1970), Oksana Baiul (1977), Maggie Gyllenhaal (1977)

STANDPOINT

OK, so I had a whole big thing written about how modern society is making the free-thinking individual an endangered species, but, for once, I want to recollect my thoughts on it, and rewrite it. So it’ll be here tomorrow. Count on it.

“If you are out to describe the truth, leave elegance to the tailor.”  – Albert Einstein

QUOTATION

Now I know the things I know, and I do the things I do; and if you do not like me so, to hell, my love, with you! → Dorothy Parker

TUNE

Recently, I’ve been giving a closer listen to Time To Die by The Dodos. I think “Two Medicines” is the best track on the album. I’ll probably change my mind by tomorrow. But right now, that’s my official stance.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ Man, does everyone have a sex tape nowadays? Carrie Prejean, the moron who used to be Miss Calfornia, apparently let an old boyfriend tape her masturbating. And now some porn company has a hold of it. Just a matter of time before it gets leaked, if it hasn’t all ready. People get rich over this kind of shit. Even in this economy.

→ I don’t care what you think. I’ll admit it. I have always loved Allen Iverson. His current debacle with the Memphis Grizzlies might, sadly, be his swan song in the NBA.

→ I used to do a segment on this blog named Annoying Sayings & Misused Words. Check out how Cracked.com ripped me off. Also, they probably did it better than I ever did.

WORD

garrulous [gar-uh-luhs, gar-yuh-] adj. 1. excessively talkative in a rambling, roundabout manner, esp. about trivial matters 2. wordy or diffuse: a garrulous and boring speech

BIRTHDAY

John Dickinson (1732), Robert Louis Stevenson (1850), Richard Mulligan (1932), Garry Marshall (1934), John Hammond (1942), Joe Mantegna (1947), Chris Noth (1954), Whoopi Goldberg (1955), Jimmy Kimmel (1967), Steve Zahn (1967), Gerard Butler (1969)

STANDPOINT

If you put a gun to my head (and I’m by no means suggesting you do that), and asked me, given a choice, what’s my favorite leisure time activity, I’m relatively sure the answer would be watching a Philadelphia Flyers game with either my brother Jer or my best friend Harv, and preferrably both because we are all of the same mind when it comes to the game of hockey. (If I could pick a third person to be there, it’d be my good friend Joe, but he resides in Connecticut and it’s not really practical for him to drive down for games. I’m sure you realize this without me explaining it.)

I am completely certain 99% of you, in a similar circumstance, would offer a different response. (Although, that’s your loss because, even if you don’t like hockey, Jer and Harv and Joe are three solid dudes to hang with.)

Knowing what an excellent judge of character I am, I’m positive it wouldn’t be my choice of company you’d find fault with – it’d be my choice of actually watching hockey. Which no one seems to do these days.

When it comes to watching professional sporting contests, the game of hockey is fighting an uphill battle. And here’s why.

This country loves two sports the most – football and baseball. Again, you may disagree, and that’s totally fine. But for the purposes here, I’m going to adhere to the idea football and baseball are the two sports most everyone couldn’t live without as if it’s a legitimate fact. Which, despite your opinion, is completely true.

Why are football and baseball so popular? Well, lots and lots of reasons. Most everyone of you grew up playing one or both of these sports, or wishing you could. Also, you know all the rules due to the fact the commentators endlessly disect each and every at-bat/play. In addition, of all the televised sports, football and baseball simply offer the opportunity for more bathroom breaks and the chance to talk to your buddies about the game without actually talking during it. There are more, but, in the interests of space and keeping your attention, I’ll stop at those three.

With hockey, hardly any of us have ever played it. (No, NHL ‘94 for the Sega Genesis doesn’t count. Although, I’d listen to any argument to the contrary.) Unless you make a deliberate effort to do so, some of the less-obvious rules are hard to figure out. Lastly, it’s a game you need to pay attention to – talking about the game is reserved for the few commercial breaks and the two 15-minute intermissions.

For those reasons, and probably 200 more, the game of hockey just doesn’t jive with most everyone out there. And, while I’d love to, I can’t say as I blame you. It’s easy to watch a baseball game with friends, even when not everyone in the room particularly cares about the outcome because everyone pretty much knows what’s going on. Same with football games but they have the added bonus of having become excuses to eat a lot of food and drink a bunch of beers which I’m a huge fan of.  They’re major social experiences in a culture becoming more and more devoid of them. I can’t find fault with wanting to spend your time away from work, time away from your kids, time away from whatever, in a relaxing atmosphere where you can yell at the television and rarely use your brain. (That last statement was sincere, not sarcastic.)

Me? I enjoy watching a sport that encourages me to think, requires my attention and leaves me, win or lose, with a weird sense of fulfillment. I love baseball and I kinda like football. But neither give me the same thrill.

And so, I’m a hockey fan.

QUOTATION

You can’t navigate me. I may do mean things, and I may hurt you, and I may run away without your permission, and you may hate me forever, and I know that scares the living shit outta you ’cause you know I’m the only real thing you got. → Ethan Hawke (as Troy Dyer in Reality Bites)

TUNE

Admittedly, this is bad timing after my whole music snobbery rant, but I drove around all over the place yesterday, and I’m trying to become less dependent on my iPod, and attempting to revisit my vaunted CD collection. In any case, I listened to Fountains of Wayne the whole time. Not widely considered an important cog in the machinery of essential music. But, fuck it. I like the band just the same. Especially “No Better Place.”

GALLIMAUFRY

→ I’ve no idea why I like these HTC television ads so much, but I do. Here’s my favorite.

→ Joselio Hanson, a backup CB for the Phiadelphia Eagles, has received a four-game suspension for violating the NFL’s substance abuse policy. Dude. Come on. You’re a backup CB. Really necessary?

→ I tweeted this last night, but for those of you not hip to the Twitter thing yet, I’m encouraging everyone I know to listen to the music of my buddy Emerson B. Go hear his tunes on MySpace. Follow him on Twitter. And get out to one of his shows. If, for no other reason, than you might be able to hang with me.

WORD

platitude [plat-i-tood, -tyood] n. 1. a flat, dull, or trite remark, esp. one uttered as if it were fresh or profound 2. the quality or state of being flat, dull, or trite: the platitude of most political oratory

BIRTHDAY

Bartomoleo Bandinelli (1493), Elizabeth Cady Stanton (1815), Auguste Rodin (1840), Karl Marx (1897), Jo Stafford (1917), Kim Hunter (1922), Charles Manson (1934), Mills Lane (1936), Booker T. Jones (1944), Al Michaels (1944), Neil Young (1945), Megan Mullally (1958), Sammy Sosa (1968), Tonya Harding (1970), Tevin Campbell (1976), Ryan Gosling (1980), Anne Hathaway (1982)

STANDPOINT

One things that bugs the shit out of me is when someone, after finding I lean toward the indie rock persuasion in terms of music listening, will classify me as a “music snob.”

The reason it irks me is because it’s simply not true. Well, not completely true anyhow. There’s truth to the idea I look down my nose at artists like Pink, Britney Spears and Kanye West. But it’s only because I think that those artists (and about a million more) really concentrate on finding new ways to suck. And not just at music. At life, as well.

However, if you like those artists and want to listen to them, feel free. Yu can turn them on and dance around your living room and scream the moronic lyrics at the top of your lungs for all I care.

You see, because while I have discerning musical tastes, I am all for you listening to whatever makes you happy. Even if that same music makes me uncontrollably sad. Listen to what you like. It’s your choice.

The problem I have is when someone like you tries to engage me in some sort of debate about musis, lecturing me on the finer, more subtle points of music. Here’s where I gotta stop you.

As I stated before, listen to what you like. But, please, for both our benefit make no attempts to persuade me one way or another about the musical merits of the new Green Day album or how I don’t really understand what Taylor Swift is really singing about. I do. I get it. And, as you’ve made a conscious decision to like that kind of thing, I’ve chosen to go the exact opposite way with my listening pleasure.

So when you call me a “music snob,” you should not be too surprised when the next 30,000 words that come out of my mouth are directed squarely at you, your intellgence and your lack of depth.

Because, really, what’s the difference between you accusing me of being too deep to understand the simplicity of simple music, and me accusing you of being too much of a simpleton to understand the simplicity of great music?

Guess that clears that up. Glad we had this talk.

QUOTATION

What is the feeling when you’re driving away from people, and they recede on the plain till you see their specks dispersing? It’s the too huge world vaulting us, and it’s good-bye. But we lean forward to the next crazy venture beneath the skies. → Jack Kerouac

TUNE

Seems like a ton of bands are doing the return-to-rock thing. (See Kings of Leon, My Morning Jacket) Usually, I dislike these trends. Furthermore, I hate being told what to like by anyone. But, being the music geek I am, forcing myself to listen to everything I possibly can (within limits) is something I just need to do. And, sometimes, I stumble upon a band that, despite myself, I kind of really dig. Like Alberta Cross, the NYC-based via London band that just released its debut album, Broken Side of Time. Check out “ATX.”

GALLIMAUFRY

→ THR.com has published a list of the top male TV earners. Tops? Simon Cowell at $75 million a year. No surprise there. Number 10 was a bit of a surprise, though. David Caruso at $9 million per year. All you hammy actors out there have some hope. (Personally, I love watching Caruso in CSI:Miami.)

→ I posted this on Facebook yesterday but I had to share it again here. This is one of the most ridiculous commercials I’ve ever seen. And up here in Phoenixville PA, it’s on like non-stop. It’s for KIA of West Chester and it’s almost making me want to got there and pretend I want to buy a car. Just to see if these dudes are equally hopped-up off camera. My favorite part is when the one dude, Anthony, gets cut off in the middle of the catch phrase, “THAT’S CRAAAZY!” Indeed.

→ The dude who started the Twitter account @shitmydadsays has signed a TV deal with CBS, after signing a book deal recently. Congrats, brother. I love it when stuff like that happens. My favorite tweet of his so far? “Son, no one gives a shit about all the things your cell phone does. You didn’t invent it, you just bought it. Anybody can do that.”

WORD

verbiage [vur-bee-ij] n. 1. overabundance or superfluity of words, as in writing or speech; wordiness; verbosity 2. manner or style of expressing something in words; wording: a manual of official verbiage

BIRTHDAY

Paracelsus (1493), Abigail Adams (1744), Fyodor Dostoyevsky (1821), George Smith Patton, Jr. (1885), Thomas C. Mann (1912), Kurt Vonnegut (1922), Jonathan Winters (1925), Mose Allison (1927), Marshall Crenshaw (1953), Andy Partridge (1953), Stanley Tucci (1960), Demi Moore (1962), James Morrison (1962), Calista Flockhart (1964), David L. Cook (1968), David DeLuise (1971), Adam Beach (1972), Leonardo DiCaprio (1974)

STANDPOINT

Currently, my car horn is damaged. It doesn’t work right. The noise sounds like it might if I was honking it after driving into the deep end of a pool.

It’s pretty ineffective. And the reason why is simple: in my car the horn has been subject to the most use. More than the gas pedal. More than the turn signal. More than the stereo.

During an average 30-minute drive, I’d estimate I employ my horn at least 10-15 times. While you may think that’s overdoing it, you’ll have to forgive me if I disagree. I’m holding myself back. On some drives, I feel like I could lay on the goddam horn from beginning to end.

Some people call this “road rage.” It’s one of those popular terms people love to throw around. But I’m not angry. Well, not the majority of the time. Mainly, I just want people to know they’re fucking up out there on the road. You’re inconveniencing everyone else by driving like Stevie Wonder on heroin.

You see, like all things in our society, everyone feels like they’ve got the right of way. But, in this instance, they’re all taking it quite literally. And it sucks.

I drive like I was taught. Eyes on the road. Aware of my surroundings. I’m basically the best driver you’ll ever meet. I’ve only been in two accidents ever. Neither were my fault. Despite what SEPTA’s official position was on the first one.

In any case, I’m simply asking everyone out there to drive like they’ve got a brain. Use your turn signal, know where you’re going, get off your fucking cell phone and, most importantly, stay out of my way.

Because, hey, you’ve ruined my car horn and, well, you should feel bad about it.

QUOTATION

Sometimes when I reflect back on all the beer I drink I feel ashamed.  Then I look into the glass and think about the workers in the brewery and all of their hopes and dreams.  If I didn’t drink this beer, they might be out of work and their dreams would be shattered.  Then I say to myself, it is better that I drink this beer and let their dreams come true than be selfish and worry about my liver. → Jack Handey

TUNE

After much deliberation, I’ve decided Vampire Weekend’s best song (so far) is “I Stand Corrected.” At least I think so right now. Tomorrow, however, is a whole other day.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ I’m not going to say one way or another whether I am for or against the death penalty. Mainly, because I’m not sure where I stand on the issue. But I wasn’t sad to hear John Allen Muhammad, one of the two dimwits responsible for D.C. area sniper attacks in October 2002, was put to death last night.

→ I used to think Chad Ochocinco was kind of a strap. But he’s not. Follow him on Twitter and you’ll see what I mean.

→ The new John Cusack movie, 2012, comes out this Friday. Does anyone else think this movie looks like everyone on Earth running for their lives? Christ, when’s Hollywood going to bust out of this? Everything new coming out, including all the inane kid stuff, is either about avoiding the end of the world or humanity’s inability to avoid it.

NOTE: There may not be a new post tomorrow as I’ve dinner plans tonight.  

WORD

animus [an-uh-muhs] n. 1. strong dislike or enmity; hostile attitude; animosity 2. purpose; intention; animating spirit 3. (in the psychology of C. G. Jung) the masculine principle, esp. as present in women

BIRTHDAY

Martin Luther (1483), Winston Churchill (1871), Russell Johnson (1924), Richard Burton (1925), Ennio Morricone (1928), Roy Scheider (1932), Russell Means (1939), Saxby Chambliss (1943), Tim Rice (1944), Sinbad (1956), Linda Cohn (1959), Mackenzie Phillips (1959), Neil Gaiman (1960), Michael Jai White (1967), Tracy Morgan (1968), Warren G. (1970), Brittany Murphy (1977), Eve (1978), Miranda Lambert (1983)

STANDPOINT

While I’m not writing this blog or reading a book or doing something of a social nature or whatever the hell else I feel like, I am a bartender. I like being a bartender. I like serving drinks, talking to people and making them laugh. It’s important to like what you do. For those of you out there who don’t like your chosen occupation, get out while you still can. That’s my advice to you. So there.

In any case, there’s one aspect of bartending that grates on my fucking nerves – listening to people drone on and on about something that matters so little to everyone everywhere and no one yet realizes it.

Lately, I’ve been listening to a lot of pointless nonsense about one subject in particular. You see, I bartend in a little town called Skippack. Down the road a ways is a slightly-larger, but no more important, town named Collegeville, cleverly because of the fact Ursinus College is located within it.

But nowadays, no one’s talking about Ursinus. To be fair, it’s likely they weren’t anyway. Nevertheless, there’s only one thing everyone wants to talk about no matter what: the grand opening of the Wegmans, a supermarket that, apparently, has the ability to capture the collective consciousness of everyone within a 45-minute drive.

It’s all anyone can talk about. So automatically I hate it. In general, I have a problem with anything that no one has a problem with. That’s mainly my problem with almost everything.

Here’s the thing. I don’t want to talk about a place you can go to buy food. (a) I’m not particularly dazzled by recollections of an, until now, never before seen selection of cheese. Also, (b) I’m not entirely impressed by the fact there’s a pub inside a supermarket. In addition, (c) I’m not remotely interested in the largest selection of seafood in the area. (These three things, by the way, are almost always offered as the main reasons one would ever go to Wegmans, although not the only ones.)

Granted, I am a single, 35-year old male (temporarily) living in an area greatly overpopulated with parents and children. For parents, it is a unique opportunity to provide for your family and afford yourself a few drinks while doing it, instead of having to wait to get home, unload the groceries, make dinner and put the kids to bed before opening a bottle of wine, or four, and get your buzz on. I am not ignorant of this fact. As I’ve been more exposed to parents as an adult, I’ve figured out that good parenting is directly proportionate to the amount of weekly alcohol consumption. It wasn’t that way when I was growing up but that’s the way it is now. At least, for the most part. Not saying all you parents out there are getting bombed every night. But a lot of you are. I can’t blame you. If I were a parent, I would probably be within your ranks.

In any case, hearing people swap stories about their first (and second and third) trip to Wegmans is about as depressing a level of converation that can be reached.

I refuse to participate.

So I’m not going. Even it means never talking to anyone again. Or, at least, until I move downtown in January. Then, I’ll have to talk to all the single folks about how fresh everything at Whole Foods seem to be. But, somehow, it doesn’t seem like it’ll suck half as much.

QUOTATION

The weirder you’re going to behave, the more normal you should look.  It works in reverse, too.  When I see a kid with three or four rings in his nose, I know there is absolutely nothing extraordinary about that person. → P.J. O’Rourke

TUNE

Sometimes, all it takes is a killer line in a song to make listen to it about 93 times – over and over. Such is the case with Mike Doughty’s tune, “I Just Want the Girl in the Blue Dress To Keep On Dancing.” It’s a good and quick song that features the line, “I’ll assess the essence of the mess…” Not sure why I like that so much. But I do. And that’s that.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ If you haven’t seen the video footage of University of New Mexico’s women’s soccer player, Elizabeth Lambert, you should. This chick is so completely crazy, I’m surprised I’ve never dated her.

→ Just want to officially thank the Philadelphia Phillies for coming oh-so-very-close to winning back-to-back World Series. I know the whole organization has been waiting for me to weigh in. Once again, I will state Philadelphia is a “baseball town.” I will keep saying that until everyone believes it. Because it’s the truth.

→ In a world gone mad, sometimes I read some news that alleviates all the numbness and actually allows me to feel again. The fact Steven Tyler has officially left Aerosmith was not that kind of news. I’m sure there’s a large group of people out there who care when a middle-aged singer leaves a band that hasn’t contributed anything musically solid in decades. I’m just not a member of that group.