06.07.11 – a tuesday

word

hackneyed [hak-need] adj. made commonplace or trite; stale; banal: the hackneyed images of his poetry

birthday

Jessica Tandy (1909), Dean Martin (1917), Tom Jones (1940), Liam Neeson (1952), Prince (1958), Allen Iverson (1975), Bill Hader (1978), Anna Kournikova (1981), Michael Cera (1988)

standpoint

Last night, I decided to go see X-Men: First Class at my local theater.

In recent years, I’ve been hearing this sort of statement more and more: “Yeah, I love movies but I hate going to the theater. It’s so distracting. Unless it’s some sort of special effects blockbuster, I’d rather just wait until it comes out on DVD or HBO or something.”

Truthfully, most times I’ve heard someone say that, I’ve been the one saying it.

But I didn’t always feel that way. Once upon a time, I went to see a movie at least twice a month, either with other people or, more often, by myself. It was a nice way to pass the time. But going to the theater nowadays is akin to placing the lens of a metaphorical microscope on everything sucky about humanity.

And here’s just two reasons why:

1. Commentary – Apparently, during any movie, there’s a contest called “Who’s the Best At Following Along?” Not everyone is picked to play but those chosen are a fiercely competitive bunch, vehemently shouting out things like, “He’s gonna get shot!” or “That’s a mistake!” *SPOILER ALERT* Last night, for instance, there was a scene in which a hand was flicking cigar ashes into an ashtray. It was the very beginning of Hugh Jackman‘s ten-second cameo as Wolverine, the central character of the X-Men franchise. But before his face appeared on screen, at least 15 people cried out, “That’s Wolverine!”

2. Cell Phones – The scourge of the modern cinema, it’s easy to understand how moveigoers might forget to turn their cell phones to silent or vibrate. It’s not like there’s several announcements before the start of a movie, asking everyone to check them. I blame the clever warnings. They’re too subtle. Here’s what they should run instead. Still, I don’t think anyone would give a shit. Last night, there were so many sounds coming from cell phones that I entertained the idea I might be the subject of a gigantic prank. My favorite, however, was the guy directly behind me who, an hour into the movie, answered his phone and proceeded to schedule a meeting for 2:30 this afternoon.

quotation

Patience is something you admire in the driver behind you and scorn in the one ahead. ↔ Mac McCleary

tune

I loved Hall & Oates when I was a kid. Truth be told, I still dig their songs. They represent everything solid about the 1980s. That’s no lie. The video for “I Can’t Go For That (No Can Do)” is quintessentially representative of the decade most everyone would love to forget.

gallimaufry

Here’s a life lesson, people. This clown had so many opportunities to ride off into the sunset as an American success story. But now he’s the poster child for greed and living beyond one’s own means. Suckah.

The “Jailbirds?” Why not? The NFL is such a laughingstock, why shouldn’t the Eagles be the biggest joke in it? Cue The Longest Yard references, starting…now.

→ Just to make this an all-sports gallimaufry, I’ll let you know that Mark Recchi was never one of my favorites when he played for the Flyers but there’s a part of me that’s pleased to see the 43-year-old not only competing for his third Stanley Cup ring, but contributing as well.

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04.23.10 – A Friday

Add to DeliciousAdd to DiggAdd to FaceBookAdd to Google BookmarkAdd to MySpaceAdd to NewsvineAdd to RedditAdd to StumbleUponAdd to TechnoratiAdd to Twitter

word

anon [uhnon] adv. 1. in a short time; soon 2. at another time 3. Archaic. at once, immediately idiom 4. ever and anon, now and then: occasionally

birthday

William Shakespeare (1564), William Penn (1621), James Buchanan (1791), Stephen A. Douglas (1813), Cow Cow Davenport (1894), Lester B. Pearson (1897), Vladimir Nabokov (1899), Shirley Temple (1928), Roy Orbison (1936), Lee Majors (1939), Sandra Dee (1942), Joyce DeWitt (1949), Michael Moore (1954), Jan Hooks (1957), Valerie Bertinelli (1960), George Lopez (1961), John Cena (1977), Kal Penn (1977), John Oliver (1977), Jaime King (1979)

standpoint

Hey, guys, remember being 21 and out at the ballgame with your buddies? Drinking beers? Heckling the opposing team and their fans? Eating a half dozen hot dogs? Those were good times, am I right? You know I am.

And remember those times when, say, a guy would be sitting in front of you with his daughters and, maybe, he didn’t like you cursing so god damn much and you, or one of your buddies, decided to show him who’s boss by sticking your finger down your throat and throwing up all over 11-year old daughter? Yeah, those were the days.

Wait. That doesn’t sound right, does it? You’re right. It’s not normal. That is unless you’re some fuckstick from Cherry Hill, NJ named Matthew Clemmens. After his idiot friend got kicked out for cursing too much due to a complaint from the 15-year old girl in front of him, Clemmens thought the best way to retaliate was to stick his fingers down his throat and vomit on the girl’s little sister.

Both girls were there with their father, Michael Vangelo, an off-duty police officer from Easton, PA. To his credit, Vangelo restrained himself and tended to his daughter instead of smacking the shit out of Clemmens. Fortunately, a few of the other spectators took care of that for him by holding the clown down and giving him the business until police arrived on the scene. Clemmens was arrested but not before pulling the same stunt, throwing up on one of the officers. He’s being brought up on a bunch of charges but, likely as not, very little will come from it

First of all, who does that? I have to say I’ve got an above-average imagination but puking on anyone, not to mention a little girl, is something I couldn’t have ever conjured, even on my best day. Clemmens doesn’t need a trial, he needs a shrink. And fast.

Also, I’d like to offer a sincere thanks to Clemmens for adding yet another chapter in the lore that is the creative misguided genius mindset of the Philadelphia sports fan. I mean, it’s embarrassing and all, but at least it’s not dull. Here’s a list of some of my favs.

We boo Santa Claus. Although the true story told in its original context isn’t really as bad as the legend of it. But, still, we boo Santa.

We throw stuff like snowballs and batteries. Because, why chuck anything at anybody if there’s no threat of bodily harm?  That’s right, folks, we’re the reason every flake of snow gets removed from a stadium before game time. You’re welcome.

We will fight you. This happens mostly at Flyers games, the most famous when some dipshit thought it was a good idea to jump into the penalty box with Tie Domi, one of the toughest hombres ever to lace up skates.

→ We dislike our own guys more than anyone. You hate Donovan McNabb?Mike Schmidt? Eric Lindros? Allen Iverson? Cool. Us too. Exceptional athletes getting rewarded  for their performances with a steady stream of boos.

I could go on and on (and on). But you get the picture. The truth of it is, Philadelphia sports fans are pretty solid folks, content to go to the games and have some fun but that’s the way in most cities, I guess. The difference is our bad seeds. They’re incredibly devious. And they suck. And they’re dragging the rest of us down into the sewer with them.

quotation

When we ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares.Henri Nouwen

tune

It seems like a lifetime ago that I had to get up every Saturday morning at 6am for work. (I know, right?) I blasted “Saturday Morning” by Eels as soon as I started my car for the drive in and, somehow, it always seemed to help.

gallimaufry

→ Yesterday was Earth Day. Here’s a little something I learned. Spooky.

→ Let’s face it. You text. I text. EVERYBODY texts.

→ In the ongoing battle for internet supremacy being fought by Facebook and Twitter, CNN.com has finally declared a winner: It’s Facebook.

03.19.10 – A Friday

word

tome [tohm] n. 1. a book, esp. a very heavy, large, or learned book 2. a volume forming a part of a larger work

birthday

William Bradford (1890), Wyatt Earp (1848), William Jennings Bryan (1860), Earl Warren (1891), Moms Mabley (1894), Irving Wallace (1916), Richie Ashburn (1927), Phillip Roth (1933), Ursula Andress (1936), Sirhan Sirhan (1944), Glenn Close (1947), Harvey Weinstein (1952), Bruce Willis (1955), Andy Reid (1958)

standpoint

Drums, please. Once again, it’s time for another installment of the Wishing Well, a weekly post detailing wrongs I wanted to see righted in this decaying world of ours.

I WISH everyone would stop with the, “I told you so’s,” about Philadelphia 76ers guard Allen Iverson. Like many of us, the fellow has his share of problems. Why is it that when people like A.I. start facing his their demons, most of us feel the need to point out how right we were all along? Cut the dude some slack, for crying out loud. Compassion is truly dead.

I WISH we’d all just agree to the fact that FOX News, like most other news channels, is a bunch of right-wing nonsense. Why are we still having this debate? Are people really that stupid? Don’t answer that. I’m all ready down on people to know the answer.

I WISH I’d never seen the footage of former Olympic skier Bill Johnson‘s crash on Real Sports with Bryant Gumbel. It made me so uneasy, I won’t even post it here.

I WISH I never read another “helpful” piece, or hear anyone complain, about how we are losing our privacy online. Seriously, folks, let’s get stop trying to figure out what’s wrong with the internet and start a nationwide search for our common sense.

I WISH I was at this year’s SXSW. Next year, I’ll be there. Try to stop me suckas!

What about you, people? What are you wishing for?

quotation

Paranoids are not paranoid because they’re paranoid, but because they keep putting themselves, fucking idiots, deliberately into paranoid situations.Thomas Pynchon

tune

One of the best kept secrets of the Philadelphia music scene, although he shouldn’t be because he’s that damn good, is Ben Arnold. He’s been playing around here for two decades now and, if you ever have the opportunity, you should definitely check out one of his live shows. Here’s “So Low.”

gallimaufry

I’ve never met Lerato Nomvuyo Mzamane but, for this alone, I love the woman. Let’s all hope she puts Oprah in her proper place.

→ When I read garbage like this, I’m absolutely certain, sooner or later, no one will be allowed to do anything at all. Ever.

→ Holy shit. When I grow up, I want to be exactly like this guy.

→ For the record, I’ll have nothing to say about college basketball, which is currently experiencing an episode of “madness,” due to an overall dearth of fondness for the proceedings.

01.22.10 – A Friday

WORD

perfunctory [per-fuhngk-tuh-ree] adj. 1. performed merely as a routine duty; hasty and superficial: perfunctory courtesy 2. lacking interest, care, or enthusiasm; indifferent or apathetic: In his lectures he reveals himself to be merely a perfunctory speaker

BIRTHDAY

Francis Bacon (1561), Grigori Rasputin (1869), Sam Cooke (1931), Piper Laurie (1932), Bill Bixby (1934), Seymour Cassel (1935), John Hurt (1940), Steve Perry (1949), Jim Jarmusch (1953), Linda Blair (1959), Michael Hutchence (1960), Daniel Johnston (1961), DJ Jazzy Jeff (1965), Diane Lane (1965), Olivia d’Abo (1969), Balthazar Getty (1975)

STANDPOINT

On my first blog, I used to a regular post called The Wishing Well. Basically, I would state five wishes, about any topic I wished. I enjoyed doing The Wishing Well. And so, I’m reviving it here. Enjoy.

I WISH I knew why the top search engine term driving traffic to this blog was “Marilu Henner.” The redheaded actress, probably best known for her work on the (awesome) sitcom Taxi and the (equally awesome) film Johnny Dangerously, has contributed 277 hits to this blog. I mentioned her one time in the “Birthday” section. Either Henner is much more popular that I thought, or someone out there likes her waaaaay too much.

I WISH I could tell you many white people, during this past holiday season, came into my bar and wished me a “Happy Kwanzaa.” Probably almost a hundred, each more annoying and tasteless than the next.

I WISH for NBA officials to seriously reexamine the league’s All Star Game selection process. I like Allen Iverson but how in the world is the guy starting? He has no reason to even be on the team. But then again, what the hell do I care about the NBA?

I WISH the rumor about Jersey Shore coming to Sea Isle City for its second season was actually true. As small as that town is, the congestion generated from all the douchebags overrunning it would make for some interesting story lines. Plus, it would be fun to watch how many more fights the cast members would get into with the Sea Isle population. I’d give the guys on that show a 35% percent chance of making it through the entire summer.

I WISH Tiger Woods all the best while getting treatment for “sexual addiction.” No I don’t. What a bunch of horseshit. Q: How many famous guys with money are out there doing exactly what Tiger was doing? A: Most all of them.

QUOTATION

Oil is sixty dollars a barrel. There are terrorists everywhere. We have a catastrophe in our world every ten minutes. I don’t know how anybody’s getting through anything. Right now, people just need to be entertained. Bob Saget

TUNE

A while back, I was told to download “Penn Station” by The Felice Brothers. The other night, I finally did just that. I immediately wished I’d done it much sooner. Thanks, Brendan.

GALLIMAUFRY

My buddy (and biggest fan) Joe Taylor sent me this awesome John Hughes montage from YouTube yesterday. Check it out.

→ Beer snobs around the world are fretting right now. It seems Belgium might be running out of beer.

→ Holy Shit. Those were the only words that came to mind after reading this article about some dipshit who’s forming an all-white basketball league in Georgia. Christ.

12.14.09 – A Monday

Last Friday night, my Uncle Joe died unexpectedly. He was probably the most affable and good-natured guy you’d have the good fortune to come across. Of my five brothers and sisters, I was probably the least close to Joe, and I’m pretty sure I was the only one who’d never gone to visit him at his home in Maryland. And I’m equally sure I’ll regret that for the rest of my life. Just kind of figured he’d be around to hang out with. Life is ruthlessly unpredictable, folks. Get out there and grab what you can from it. 

This post is dedicated to Uncle Joe. 

WORD

nonpareil [non-puhrel] adj. 1. having no equal; peerless n. 2. a person or thing having no equal 3. a small pellet of colored sugar for decorating candy, cake, and cookies 4. a flat, round, bite-sized piece of chocolate covered with this sugar

BIRTHDAY

Nostradamus (1503), Spike Jones (1911), Lee Remick (1935), Patty Duke (1946), Michael Ovitz (1946), Beth Orton (1970)

STANDPOINT

Last week I commented on Allen Iverson’s return to the Philadelphia 76ers.

For the record, I like Allen Iverson. I always have. Even when, in 2002, he threw his naked wife out of their house in Gladwyne, where I grew up. Lots and lots of things happened as a result of A.I.’s actions, including causing me to be over two hours late for some family function due to the fact every TV news van in the country was trying to get into probably the least traffic-friendly town you can imagine.  

In any case, the return of Allen Iverson has left me with mixed emotions. I’m glad he’s back, but as I stated last week, I’m curious as to why everyone else is.

Philadelphia has a history of taking young, talented athletes and making them regret they ever played their respective sport. The Philadelphia PhilliesMike Schmidt was deemed the best third baseman in history. Eric Lindros had a career for the Philadelphia Flyers that placed him, for much of it, in the same company as Gordie Howe, Mario Lemieux and Wayne Gretzky. On any other team in the NFL, Philadelphia Eagles‘ quarterback Donovan McNabb would be credited for being one of the best at his position in the past decade. Allen Iverson, in his first stint with the 76ers, was a diminutive individual, usually scoring more than double the points of the giants he played against.

And where did it get them? Schmidt retired as a Phillie but left here so damaged it took him almost a decade to return to the fans who booed much harder when he didn’t get the job done as they cheered when he did. Lindros’ story is much more complicated but, even with all the drama and concussions, he’s still a fringe candidate for the debate of who’s the best player in NHL history, even Bobby Clarke thinks so. McNabb still manages to come to work every Sunday and play for a bunch of worthless fans who’ve forgotten the likes of Bobby Hoying, Bubby Brister and Rodney Peete. And Iverson was one of the best in the NBA, while playing for a team that seemed content to let him try to win a championship all by himself.

Which begs the question, why would anyone come play in Philadelphia, a city where even those days when probably capable of better, and those days when you don’t live up to expectations there’s a million people leading the charge for your head? Don’t believe me? This past Phillies-Yankees World Series, I forget which game it was. I was at a bar and Phillies’ slugger Ryan Howard was striking out. A lot. And one of the morons sitting around me said, “Man, would you look at this fuckin’ bum on the goddamn television?” Yeah, genius, I was looking at the TV. At Ryan Howard. A guy who’s managed to hit 220 homers and knock in 635 runs in just five seasons. But Howard, and the rest of the Phillies, didn’t win this past World Series like they did the year before. And so, for that, Howard’s a bum. Just like every other professional athlete in Philadelphia sports’ history who didn’t give their fans the misplaced, instant gratification for which they feel erroneously entitled.

QUOTATION

 This and nothing else is the desperately sought and tragically fragile writer’s process: in his imagination, he sees made-up people doing things–sees clearly–and in the act of wondering what they will do next, he sees what they will do next, and all this he writes down in the best, most accurate words he can find, understanding even as he writes that he may have to find better words later, and that a change in the words may mean a sharpening or deepening of the vision, the fictive dream or vision becoming more and more lucid, until reality, by comparison, seems cold, tedious, and dead.John Gardner

TUNE

I normally have something poignant to say about the song I’m sharing with you. But today I don’t. Listen to “HEERS” by Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin. It’s good. And that’s that.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ Listen up, country! The people of Houston get it. So why can’t the rest of you clowns fall in line? Annise Parker will become the city’s first openly gay mayor, making Houston the biggest city ever to do so. Is it safe to say it’s pretty fucked up when Texans are breaking new ground?

Tiger Woods, most likely after reading my post last Friday, has announced, “After much soul searching, I have decided to take an indefinite break from professional golf.” In what many are considering the understatement of a lifetime, Woods furthered with, “I need to focus my attention on being a better husband, father, and person.” You think?

→ OK. Let me get this straight. Donte Stallworth drunkenly drives over, and kills, a guy a few months back and gets 30 fucking days in jail. Meanwhile, New Jersey resident John Wilson is facing up to 20 years for growing 17 marijuana plants for his own personal use to treat his multiple sclerosis. I don’t drink and drive because I’m hesitant to put my life and the lives of others in jeopardy. I do, however, occassionally smoke pot in the privacy of my own home which, until now, seemed relatively innocuous. I guess I had it all backwards and turned upside-down. How naive of me.

12.08.09 – A Tuesday

WORD

phlegmatic [fleg-mat-ik] adj. 1. not easily excited to action or display of emotion; apathetic; sluggish 2. self-possessed, calm, or composed 3. of the nature of or abounding in the humor phlegm

BIRTHDAY

Horace (65 BC), Mary Queen of Scots (1542), William C. Durant (1861), Diego Rivera (1886), Sammy Davis Jr. (1925), Jimmy Smith (1925), Flip Wilson (1933), David Carradine (1936), Jim Morrison (1943), Gregg Allman (1947), Gérard Blanc (1947), Bill Bryson (1951), Kim Basinger (1953), Roy Firestone (1953), Sam Kinison (1953), Ann Coulter (1961), Greg Howe (1963), Teri Hatcher (1964), Sinéad O’Connor (1966), Dominic Monaghan (1976)

STANDPOINT

Last night, I watched Allen Iverson’s triumphant return to the Philadelphia 76ers. OK. Well. I watched about 15 minutes of it until I turned on the ultimately disappointing Flyers-Canadiens game.

But, arguably, I watched the most important part of the Sixers-Nuggets game: the introductory hoopla. Philadelphia, a city that three years ago was collectively shoving Iverson out of town, welcomed him home like no one ever wanted him to go anywhere.

The Wachovia Center was sold-out for a basketball game for the first time this year. Actually, the entire crowd last night almost doubled the total sum of the first eight home games. The starting lineup announcements were conducted in a way a 5-15 team, under any other circumstances, could never gotten away with. After being introduced, Iverson ran out to the 76ers logo at half-court, kneeled down and kissed it. (The crowd cheered like that was totally normal.) 

Iverson seemed truly happy. And I, for one, was truly happy for him. I never disliked the guy. I was always in his corner and have been a huge supporter of his return to Philadelphia.

I’ve had about 349 conversations about Iverson since he left town. Each and every time, I was told I was wrong. He was a poison. He was a selfish player. He was a thug. He had to go.

While I never subscribed the above statements, I always granted them creedence. I figured everyone hated Iverson because he was an asshole. Also, I was pretty sure I liked him for the same exact reason.

What I’m having trouble digesting is why,all of a sudden, everyone gives a shit about (a) the Sixers, and (b) Iverson himself.

I need to collect my thoughts on this one. TO BE CONTINUED.

In the meantime, what’s your take?  

QUOTATION

I used to be friends with Miles Davis. He didn’t like many folks. I lived across the street from him. He would call me up sometimes — “I got some fish I wanna cook up for ya.” I went up there, and he was on a couch, looking out the window. He was just rapt. I said, “What’re you watching, Miles?” He said, “The traffic. Where are all these motherfuckers goin’?”Rip Torn

TUNE

In the interest of getting to know someone better, I’ve recently been exposed to more Belle and Sebastian. I was told by that someone “Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying” is the band’s best song. Turned out to be the truth.

GALLIMAUFRY

→ After being complete cocks about music piracy and crying about how much money they were losing, it turns out the major record labels (Warner, Sony BMG, EMI and Universal) have been doing a little looting of their own. Justice? Maybe. Well, probably.   

→ While I’m of the opinion most people are complete dolts and unknowingly ruining society, there’s an awful, evil flipside. It appears there are enough smart individuals out there doing what they can to not be outdone by the morons. Case in point? This whole Miranda nonsense in The Supreme Court.

→ While I love to point out the inane crap dominating the media these days, I have an actual pleasure when I read some genuinely good news. Drunk driving deaths in the US are, statistically, on a downward turn. Good job, nitwits. I’m pleased some of you might be coming to your senses.

12.03.09 – A Thursday

WORD

votary [voh-tuh-ree] n. 1. a person who is bound by solemn religious vows, as a monk or a nun 2. an adherent of a religion or cult; a worshiper of a particular deity or sacred personage 3. a person who is devoted or addicted to some subject or pursuit: a votary of jazz 4. a devoted follower or admirer adj. 5. consecrated by a vow 6. of or pertaining to a vow

BIRTHDAY

George B. McClellan (1826), Joseph Conrad (1857), Andy Williams (1927), Ozzy Osbourne (1948), Mickey Thomas (1949), Daryl Hannah (1960), Julianne Moore (1960), Katarina Witt (1965), Brendan Fraser (1968), Montell Jordan (1968), Holly Marie Combs (1973)

STANDPOINT

“As disappointed as we are today, let’s get up tomorrow and redouble our efforts.” Those were the words issued yesterday by New York Governor David Paterson in response to his state’s senate voting down a same-sex marriage bill.

Good for Paterson. See? Some people out there get it. Well, I think most do.

Proponents of same-sex marriage always play the same old broken record. Mainly, they speak of (a) the idea that marriage should be an agreement between one man and one woman and (b) the deterioration of  “traditional values.”

First, geniuses, how much success have us heterosexuals had at preserving the sacred institution of marriage? Everyone loves to say over 50% of marriages fail but that’s inaccurate. It’s really 41% for first marriages, 60% for second marriages and 73% for third marriages. So, as usual, the statitistics we’re presented with are twisted. Still, 41% is a lot. Almost half.

What I want to know is, if close to half of these heterosexual marriages are failing, how is it valid to argue letting same-sex partners marry would make it any worse? The truth is, it wouldn’t.

And this whole “traditional values” nonsense is just that – nonsense. The world is changing and, while there may be many out there who still hold to these “traditional values,” the problem is most of have figured out these traditions hold very little value.

Most of us want same-sex marriage. Those who don’t, however, hold more power in our fucked, unfixable political structure. Because most of us in support of same-sex marriage have realized participating in the political process is about as futile as attempting to swim to Greenland.   

Here’s the deal, people. Stop trying to block same-sex marriage. It’s embarrassing anyone really even is against it in the first place. And, please, don’t give me some half-assed argument that you don’t want the gay community raising children. Have you seen the kids out there lately? How in the world could anyone do worse than the bang up job all of us heterosexuals have been doing?

Frankly, it’s not even possible.

QUOTATION

I don’t gamble, because winning a hundred dollars doesn’t give me great pleasure. But losing a hundred dollars pisses me off.Alex Trebek

TUNE

Lately, I’ve been rediscovering the music of The Smiths. It’s likely I’m covering no new ground when I make the following statement: those songs were really quite great. It’s hard to pick a favorite, though, but while I sit here writing this I’m listening to “There Is a Light That Never Goes Out.” 

GALLIMAUFRY

Allen Iverson is coming back to the people who love/hate him the most. The iconic guard has signed a one-year, non-guaranteed contract wth the Philadelphia 76ers, the team that traded him three years ago after an entertaining (putting it mildly) 10-year stint. I always liked A.I. so I’m happy to see him back.

Liam Gallagher, formerly of the band Oasis, is starting a new band. The roster? Well, everyone else that was in Oasis. Except his brother, Noel Gallagher, who left the band in August. If those two put as much energy into making music as they do publicly fighting with each other, it’s possible they could create some of the best music of all-time. Liam has not announced the name of the new band, but it won’t be Oasis.

Meredith Baxter, the mom from 1980s TV sitcom Family Ties, has announced she’s a lesbian. For some reason, the media seems to think it’s important we know.