04.23.10 – A Friday

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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.

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04.14.10 – A Wednesday

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word

pastiche [pa-steesh, pah-] n. 1. a literary, musical, or artistic piece consisting wholly or chiefly of motifs or techniques borrowed from one or more sources 2. an incongruous combination of materials, forms, motifs, etc., taken from different sources; hodgepodge

birthday

Anne Sullivan (1866), Thomas Schelling (1921), Rod Steiger (1925), Loretta Lynn (1935), Pete Rose (1941), Richard Jeni (1957), Brad Garrett (1960), Robert Carlyle (1961), Anthony Michael Hall (1968), Adrien Brody (1973), Sarah Michelle Gellar (1977), Win Butler (1980),

standpoint

Tomorrow, the Stanley Cup Playoffs begin. And I’m certain not too many of you are overly concerned about that but I thought I’d share some facts here anyway.

→ No team has repeated as Stanley Cup Champs since the Detroit Red Wings did it back in 1997 and 1998.

→ The Chicago Blackhawks are in possession of the longest streak of not winning a Stanley Cup – 47 years. They’re the second seed in the Western Conference this year, and it’s not out of the question they could make a run for it.

→ The Philadelphia FlyersBlair Betts is the current owner of the individual streak for games without a playoff point at 24. He hasn’t registered on the score sheet since April 12th, 2007.

→ Teams trailing 3-1 in a seven games series have come back to win it only 8.97% of the time. Flyers fans would like to forget when the New Jersey Devils, Philadelphia’s current first-round opponent, did it back in 2000. I still don’t have the strength to get into the Scott Stevens hit on Eric Lindros.

→ The record holder for most overtime playoff goals in NHL history is Joe Sakic with 8. Of players actually in this year’s playoffs, the leader is the New Jersey Devils’ Jamie Langenbrunner with 4.

→ Of this year’s playoff goaltenders, the Washington CapitalsJose Theodore has the highest winning percentage at .630, 17 wins and 10 losses.

Those are stats I thought pretty interesting. Of course, the stats don’t matter much in hockey.

My prediction, I’ll be shocked as hell if the Washington Capitals don’t win the Cup. But, even though I know more about hockey than you, the knowledge never translates into being right.

quotation

If you’re in a bad situation, don’t worry it’ll change. If you’re in a good situation, don’t worry it’ll change. John A. Simone, Sr.

tune

I’m aware of the lack of love out there for in the hipster music community for North Carolina band Jump, Little Children. But I think they’re pretty damn solid, especially in lyrical terms. The part of  “The House Our Father Knew” where Jay Clifford shouts out, “Don’t you hear the deafening roar?,” is something I know I’m supposed to dismiss as cheesy, but I just can’t.

gallimaufry

→ What was Ben Roethlisberger thinking? After the authorities failed to bring him up on charges no one was going to come out and say what we all know he did was wrong? Usually, I think Terry Bradshaw is a windbag, but he I think he got it on the money here.

This country is facing a shorting of 150,000 doctors in 15 years? It’s just one thing after another, isn’t it?

→ I, for one, wouldn’t have blamed Donovan McNabb if he’d actually said all of this. It would’ve been completely understandable if he’d “apologized for his failure to shore up the Eagles defense and his inability to keep Brian Westbrook healthy while leading the team to five NFC Championship games.”

04.08.10 – A Thursday

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word

felicitous [fi-lis-i-tuhs] adj. 1. well-suited for the occasion, as an action, manner, or expression; apt; appropriate: The chairman’s felicitous anecdote set everyone at ease 2. having a special ability for suitable manner or expression, as a person

birthday

David Rittenhouse (1732), Betty Ford (1918), Carmen McRae (1920), Kofi Annan (1938), Stuart Pankin (1946), Tom DeLay (1947), Steve Howe (1947), John Schneider (1960), Izzy Stradlin (1962), Julian Lennon (1963), Biz Markie (1964), Robin Wright Penn (1966), Patricia Arquette (1968)

standpoint

Short and sweet today. Here’s a list of shit I need to stop hearing or reading about. It’s a new section called I’m Tired Of These.

  1. Toyota – The Japanese car company used to be considered the best in the world. But they made a mistake. Ever make one yourself?
  2. Federal Income Taxes – Almost half of our nation’s households don’t pay income tax. It’s been happening for a few years now. You only know about it now because certain political factions want you to. No one was freaking about it when the President was a generic white guy.
  3. Facebook Simpletons – When I was in high school, my mother had my father take me to the family hairdresser and, while we were in route, called the lady and instructed her to ignore my instructions and cut seven inches off every hair on my head. Was I pissed? You betcha. Did I sue my mother? No. Dude, unless your mother is beating you mercilessly, shut the fuck up and deal with the fact you got caught.
  4. Texting While Driving – If you don’t understand why this is dangerous, you should call the authorities to come pick you up and put you on the next plane to Mexico.
  5. Obama Is A Communist – For real? That’s the best you’ve got? It’s okay if you disagree with our President. I’m not saying you’re right or wrong. But if Joe McCarthy was still around, even his drunk ass would come up with more current terminology.

About the only truth out there right now is the national media is lazy. It’s creating (and recreating) your news for you. Find out what’s what for yourself.

quotation

Someone to tell it to is one of the fundamental needs of human beings. Miles Franklin

tune

With a recently revamped iPod and a renewed determination to attain my exemplary weight, I’ve started working out again. (In case you’re unaware, two years ago, I tipped the scales at 260 lbs. Nowadays, I find myself in between 210 and 220 lbs. I’m resolute to get down to my original goal of 200 lbs.) And I’m not joining gym, or enlisting in the ranks of the single-minded bicycle enthusiasts. I’m simply going to walk. Hard and fast. And what’s great about that is I don’t need a bunch of redundant fist-pumping music like one’ll find in those inane spinning classes. Any good music will do. Today, I listened to Keep In Mind, Frankenstein by Grand Archives. Here’s “Dig That Crazy Grave.”

gallimaufry

→ Remember all the snow we were having around here a while back? And how everyone was joking, “Hey, Al Gore, what happened to global warming?” Well, morons, one snowy winter hasn’t stopped the effects of what will probably destroy this world before we humans get a shot at it. Don’t believe me? Click here.

→ Today, Tiger Woods resumes his golfing career. But not before this guy used his standing to read him the riot act.

→ All you who are still confounded by what actually happened with the Donovan McNabb trade, as usual, Sal Paolantonio has the inside dope.

04.06.10 – A Tuesday

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word

sojourn [n. soh-jurn; v. soh-jurn, soh-jurn] n. 1. a temporary stay: during his sojourn in Paris v. 2. to stay for a time in a place; live temporarily: to sojourn on the Riviera for two months

birthday

Raphael (1483), Jean-Baptiste Rousseau (1671), Pasquale Paoli (1725), James Mill (1773), Gerry Mulligan (1927), Merle Haggard (1937), Billy Dee Williams (1937), Barry Levinson (1942), John Ratzenberger (1947), Marilu Henner (1952), Michael Rooker (1955), John Pizzarelli (1960), Frank Black (1965), Jonathan Firth (1967), Paul Rudd (1969), Zach Braff (1975), Candace Cameron (1976)

standpoint

Ah, the end of an era. Capitulating to the wishes of the majority of its fans, the Philadelphia Eagles finally traded longtime quarterback Donovan McNabb to the Washington Redskins for a second-round draft pick this year and a conditional one next year.

True to their nature, Philadelphia sports enthusiasts, given exactly what they wanted, began to grumble. Did the Eagles get enough for McNabb? Will Kevin Kolb be the starter some think he can be or will he be the next Bobby Hoying? Why would the two teams make the deal on the eve of MLB’s Opening Day, one when the two cities’ baseball counterparts, the Philadelphia Phillies and the Washington Nationals, were set to square off?

People, please shut the hell up. From the start, you griped about the poor guy for eleven straight years. When he was chosen ahead of running back Ricky Williams at the draft, Eagles’ “fans” in attendance booed him. And, instead of buckling under the criticism, McNabb simply led the Eagles to five NFC Championships and one Super Bowl appearance. Just in case you’re slow, I’ll elaborate. That means during roughly half of his tenure in Philadelphia, the Eagles were at least the fourth best team in the NFL. They made the playoffs eight of those eleven years. In total, he’s won 92 games and is third on the list of current quarterbacks with a .651 winning percentage, wedged in between Peyton Manning and Brett Favre. It’s hard to imagine how much more all of you spectacular would’ve hated him if he actually did suck.

And now, Eagles fans, you have Kevin Kolb and you’ve no choice but to be happy with him. But, let’s face it, if Kolb comes out and has a bad start to the season, you’ll all be screaming for Michael Vick to come in and save the day. And if he doesn’t get it done, you’ll be asking for some other poor schmuck to give you the Super Bowl ring you desperately need to validate all those pathetically wasted Sundays, sitting on your couch wearing your “DAWKINS” jersey and begging anyone in earshot to answer the question, “Why doesn’t Reid run the ball more?” I hope Kolb gets it done. He seems like a quality fellow. But his stomach for bullshit is about to get tested. If the guy he’s replacing was only outmatched in terms of wins in the past decade by Tom Brady and Peyton Manning, and still deemed a shitty quarterback, what chance does Kolb stand? Is he going to be better than Brady or Manning? Not likely.

And, please, let’s not lament the terms of the trade. It’s ironic all you sports gurus claimed McNabb was junk on a daily basis, and now you’re the same nitwits who are bitching the Eagles didn’t get enough for him. It’s one or the other, people. Pick a side and stay on it for once, you wishy-washy nutjobs.

As for the timing of the trade and the fact it coincided with the first day of baseball, please give me a break. I’m not the most business-oriented of minds but even I understand the McNabb trade was a business deal, conducted between two businesses. There was millions of dollars at stake. When would’ve been a suitable time to make the trade? After the baseball season? Ridiculous.

By the tone of this rant, I hope it’s obvious that, while I don’t hate the NFL, I don’t have much respect for a lot of the people who play it and even less who make it their life’s devotion. But I do have respect for Donovan McNabb because he’s always been the underdog, even when he squarely didn’t deserve the role. Next season, I’ll be pulling for him. Even when he plays the Eagles. Because there’s nothing I like better when one guy proves a million idiots wrong.

quotation

It takes a kind of shabby arrogance to survive in our time, and a fairly romantic nature to want to. Edgar Z. Freidenberg

tune

Normally, I’d proffer there’s too many videos on YouTube made by people with nothing better to do. But in this instance, I’ll need to back down from that stance. A montage of The Office set to Ben Folds‘ “There’s Always Someone Cooler Than You” is located directly in my wheelhouse. And it should be in yours, too.

gallimaufry

→ I think our country is fantastic. This shitball church changed the wording of their sign when faced with proper political pressure. I’m going to speak more on this tomorrow but, for the time being, I hope everyone reading this understands our nation is in serious trouble.

How funny is this? Does this company have meetings? Wouldn’t it stand to reason at least one person present would say, “Wait, I’m not sure but I think someone told me lead paint is apparently bad for you now.”

→ On Philadelphia’s latest decision to relax about pot, District Attorney Seth Williams said, “We can’t declare a war on drugs by going after the kid who’s smoking a joint on 55th Street.” In an unrelated development, 55th Street property values are skyrocketing.

03.09.10 – A Tuesday

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word

repartee [rep-er-tee, –tey, -ahr-] n. 1. a quick, witty reply 2. conversation full of such replies 3. skill in making such replies

birthday

Amerigo Vespucci (1454), Samuel Barber (1910), Mickey Spillane (1918), Ornette Coleman (1930), Raúl Juliá (1940), John Cale (1942), Bobby Fischer (1943), Charles Gibson (1943), Robin Trower (1945), Jeffrey Osborne (1948), Bobby Sands (1954), Linda Fiorentino (1958), Steve Wilkos (1964), Juliette Binoche (1964), Emmanuel Lewis (1973), Thor Halvorssen (1976), Julia Mancuso (1984), Brittany Snow (1986), Bow Wow (1987)

standpoint

Two nights ago, we were all once again treated to the annual hullabaloo that is The Oscars. Lots of us were watching the show. 41.3 million of us. Granted, that’s not even 10% of the United States’ population but it’s still a large group of people, the largest in five years. Whoopdee-doo.

But why were we all watching? I suspect some of you actually watched out of your sheer love for the art of cinema. Or maybe you watched in an attempt to make sure you weren’t the only one in the office the next morning who couldn’t participate in the endless post-Oscar debates and be forced to, like, do work or something. Or maybe you flipped through the channels and happened upon the show and became immediately engaged by the obvious sexual tension between Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin, this year’s co-hosts. Or maybe you’re like me and you simply watched the damn thing to beleaguer yourself with one of the prime examples of how crappy our culture has become.

I watched it, albeit in my usual offish fashion. But I did notice some amusing peculiarities.

→ In what’s being dubbed a “Kanye Moment,” some woman named Elinor Burkett, apparently one of the producers of  something called Music By Prudence, stormed the stage and stole the allotted speech time from the film’s director, one Roger Ross Williams. Some described it as “uncomfortable to watch.” Uh…all right. Now Burkett has two things in common with Kanye West: They both display an irreverent attitude toward award show decorum, and they both look like dudes.

Neil Patrick Harris needs to pull in the reins a bit. Does the guy know he’s allowed to turn down offers? At this rate, we’re all going to be sick and tired of him sometime later this week. Hey, NPH, maybe just be a homebody for a while, do a crossword puzzle (or maybe you’re a sudoku man, I have no idea) or repaint the living room like you’ve been saying you’re going to since forever. Or, here’s an idea. Maybe watch some television and try to find a channel you won’t see your own face.

Fisher Stevens, the guy who played that goofy scientist in Short Circuit and was in that episode of Friends that time won an Oscar for a documentary that had something to do with dolphins. Johnny Five is indeed alive.

→ Always the cutup, Ben Stiller came onstage to present the award for Best Makeup all done up as a character from Avatar. I thought he looked a lot like what Michael Jackson might’ve looked like twenty years down the road.

→ Throughout the entire show, George Clooney had a look on his face that, I swear, made me think the guy has some sort of beef being stuck in a chair with a camera up his nose for four hours. What’s up with that? Lighten up, buddy, you’ve come a long way since Booker Brooks.

The Hurt Locker won 6 times. Two of them involved sound and were accepted by some guy who looked like a recovering zombie. Also, the lady who directed it won Best Director and Best Film but all anyone wanted to talk about was that she was once married to fellow nominee James Cameron. I was glad she was able to get back at the Academy for what’s still considered one of history’s biggest snubs when it completely ignored Point Break. Not even a courtesy Best Supporting Actor nod to Gary Busey, for crying out loud. But Kathryn Bigelow showed them. Now who’s laughing? Definitely not Busey and, even if he is, he’s laughing about something only he fully understands.

→ I liked that thing they do when 5 actors get up on stage and say something seemingly heartfelt and ostensibly accurate about the nominees for Best Actor and Best Actress. Oprah Winfrey spoke about Gabourey Sidibe from Precious in the way she does about everything. No matter what Oprah’s prattling on about, she’s really just talking about herself. Sidibe probably didn’t care as she was most likely couldn’t stop thinking about hunky Gerard Butler, who she met and delivered the proposition, “Let’s grab a bottle of champagne and see where the night goes!” Later, she told more than one reporter, in regards to her attraction to Butler, “I’d hit that.” Whatever happened to playing hard to get? Gabourey, it’s all about the hunt and the chase. Don’t just throw it out there.

→ One of my favorite actors, Jeff Bridges won for Best Actor. Of all the movies mentioned during the show, Crazy Heart was one of two I’d actually seen. (Star Trek was the other.) Kudos to Bridges, by the way, who, in giving his acceptance speech, contributed yet another item to the long list every stoner keeps of shit you can still do when you’re high.

Overall, I enjoyed watching The Oscars. I might even watch next year. Hell, I might even get out there and see some relevant movies for a change. Who knows?

quotation

These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves.  From each of them goes out its own voice… and just as the touch of a button on our set will fill the room with music, so by taking down one of these volumes and opening it, one can call into range the voice of a man far distant in time and space, and hear him speaking to us, mind to mind, heart to heart.Gilbert Highet

tune

Sometimes, I’m resistant to things for no good reason. What can I say? I’m hardheaded. You love that about me, by the way. In any case, my wonderful girlfriend asked me to watch the new OK Go video about five times before I had the good judgment to trust her. I learned an important relationship lesson: Believe her when she tells me I’m definitely going to like something she’s sent me. (Five times.) Not only did I realize that (a) I like OK Go and, as is the case from time to time, I miss out on good music due to a some sort of stigma I’ve created out of thin air, and (b) I can’t ascertain how I’ve managed to escape the incredible ingenuity of Rube Goldberg Machines. They’re absolutely fucking nuts. Here’s the new OK Go offering titled “This Too Shall Pass.”

And if you suddenly find yourself yearning for some more Rube Goldberg Machine videos, worry not, I’m happy to provide them. Check these out.

gallimaufry

Reunited and it feels so good. T.O. and D-Nabb put aside their differences for (What else?) money. Poor Antonio Gates, stuck with those two as teammates.

→ Some may argue that Facebook made this possible. I’d say FB made it easier would be more accurate.

→ I didn’t need another reason not to vacation in balmy Alaska. But I got one anyway.

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.

11.25.09 – A Wednesday

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.