04.29.10 – A Thursday

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word

chicanery [shi-key-nuh-ree, chi-] n. 1. trickery or deception by quibbling or sophistry: He resorted to the worst flattery and chicanery to win the job 2. a quibble or subterfuge used to trick, deceive, or evade

birthday

William Randolph Hearst (1863), Duke Ellington (1899), Hirohito (1901), Lonnie Donegan (1931), Bernard Madoff (1938), Richard Kline (1944), Dale Earnhardt (1951), Nora Dunn (1952), Jerry Seinfeld (1954), Kate Mulgrew (1955), Daniel Day-Lewis (1957), Michelle Pfeiffer (1958), Eve Plumb (1958), Master P (1967), Carnie Wilson (1968), Andre Agassi (1970), Uma Thurman (1970), Barbaro (2003)

standpoint

It’s true that humans are my least favorite animals. I’m a big fan of the rest of them, though. Sometimes, I think other animals are quite lucky. No sense of individuality. No hang ups about death. No concept of time. No supposition on what’s right or wrong. Except for the constraints folks like us place on them, the balance of the animal kingdom enjoy freedoms in a way we humans once did but never will again. Whether we know it or not, that’s why we have pets.

We hold our pets in higher regard. And we should. Some get a little too carried away with it. You always hear about crazy cat people who thought it was a perfectly sound idea to take in 320 felines into a two-bedroom house. I was once at a good friend’s wedding where I had the misfortune of sitting at a table with a gentleman who conducted a 45-minute monologue on such topics as how his dog liked to run on one specific side of the dog park, preferred to chew on his work shoes but left the guy’s sneakers alone, fancied one type of dog food over another. It was pretty hard to sit through.

But those are the extremists. Most of us have pets and we love them more conventionally.

I have cats. And I dig them. Pudds and Buckley. They fascinate me. They’re crazy and affectionate and amazing. I can’t explain why they do the insane things they do but I don’t care. Sure, they’re my pets but, in my opinion, that’s a prosaic designation. More so, my cats are my friends. And, whether you have cats or dogs or fish or birds or monkeys, that’s what pets are. Friends. (Due to some shuffling around that was going on about a year ago, I had to take Pudds and Buckley to stay with my parents. I miss them everyday but my mother and father fell in love with the two weirdos and even though I’m in a situation where I could conceivably take them back, I wouldn’t dream of doing so. The four of them – my parents and my cats – are so happy together, it makes little sense to break them up.)

Your pets spend all day waiting for you to come home and when you do, they don’t care about anything else except you’re back. They don’t care if you lost your job, if wrecked your car, etc. They just want to hang with you. It’s a supremely pure relationship in that it’s unconditional.

So, today, I’m asking all of you to give a little shout-out to your pets. Take them on an extra long walk. But them a toy or treat. Give them a special meal. If roles were reversed, they’d do it for you.

Me and Buckley and Pudds

quotation

It often happens that a man is more humanely related to a cat or a dog than to any human being. Henry David Thoreau

tune

2010 is turning out to be the year all of my favorite music artists are releasing new material. The latest to do so is Teenage Fanclub. The Scottish mainstays will release Shadows here in the States on June 8th. Here’s a preview – “Baby Lee.”

gallimaufry

→ The NHL playoffs this season have been amazing, especially in the Eastern Conference where the bottom three seeds successfully knocked off the top three. I haven’t looked into it but I’d wager that’s a first. The East, considered the stronger conference this year, may have shot itself in the foot if the San Jose Sharks start playing as amazing as they’re capable.

Life on Mars? Who gives a shit? Let’s turn the telescopes and probes back onto ourselves.

→ Just yesterday afternoon, I was thinking how great it would be if Hollywood could find a way to put out more crap. Luckily, I read this last night and it answered my prayers.

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05.20.09 – Wednesday

Word: swagger [swag-er] v. int. 1. to walk or strut with a defiant or  insolent air 2. to boast or brag noisily ∞ v. t. 3. to bring, drive, force, etc., by blustering ∞ n. 4. swaggering manner, conduct, or walk; ostentatious display of arrogance and conceit

Birthday: Honoré de Balzac (1799), John Stuart Mill (1806), James Stewart (1908), Gardner Fox (1911), Lee “Scratch” Perry (1936), Joe Cocker (1944), Cher (1946), Ron Reagan (1950), Jane Wiedlin (1958), Israel Kamakawiwo’ole (1959), Bronson Pinchot (1959), Ted Allen (1965), Mindy Cohn (1966), Busta Rhymes (1972)

Standpoint: Monday night, as I was watching the Pittsburgh Penguins take on the Carolina Hurricanes in Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals in the Stanley Cup Playoffs, it was impossible to miss Sidney Crosby. Even when he was doing absolutely nothing, the spotlight shown in his direction. He’s the new poster boy for the NHL, who would love for him to become the next Wayne Gretzky, whose combination of pure skill and squeaky-clean good looks brought the league into prominence in this country two decades ago. The problem is Crosby is no Gretzky. Even in this early stage of his career, he’s not popular with the fans or among his peers. And here’s why.

Most professional sports are just a live enactment of good vs. evil. In any contest, there are the good guys – those we ‘re all waiting to see win in dramatic fashion – and the bad guys – those we are waiting to fall miserably on their faces. And we enjoy watching either one because wishing for a team to lose is just as much fun as wishing for it to win. Sometimes even more so.

Take Joe Montana. With a name like that, he was destined to occupy a place among the good guys. Besides the name, the man possessed all of the qualities that one needs to become one of America’s heroes. In short, Joe Montana was a guy that no one thought would be anything more than a capable quarterback. Of course, as is often the case, people ended up eating their words as he led the San Francisco 49ers to some of the most famous comebacks during one of the greatest dynasties in sports history. His losses were sometimes just as spectacular as his wins. We all rooted for him. Whichever team was playing against Joe Montana became the enemy.

 Then we have Kobe Bryant, who was marked by the NBA to be its replacement for Michael Jordan, its most celebrated good guy. But things went wrong. The Los Angeles Lakers‘ superstar distinguished himself by openly feuding with Shaquille O’Neal and being the only guy in human history capable of pissing off Phil Jackson. Oh yeah, being accused of sexual assault didn’t really help, either. Still, Kobe prevailed and is currently one of the top basketball players in the world. But no one is happy about it and we all root against him. Whichever team is playing against Kobe Bryant becomes the favorite.

So we all loved Montana. And we all love to hate Bryant. But what about Crosby? What group does he fit into? Well, he’ll probably never be shown the kind of love the good guys enjoy. At least not outside of Pittsburgh. On the other hand, he’ll never earn a spot with the bad guys as one of professional sports’ villains. And that’s because he’s more disliked than he is hated. And you might think that being disliked doesn’t sound as bad as being hated. But it is.

Because, no matter what the particular sport or situation, what we’re all looking for is entertainment. And being a human highlight reel is only so entertaining for so long. Here’s what the San Jose SharksJeremy Roenick has to say about Crosby: I think he’s too quiet, too hum-drum, too cliched. I love the kid as a hockey player, but I think he can be more spectacular if he steps up and shows a little personality. Now while the outspoken Roenick might not be the best judge about the proper use of “personality,” his remarks mirror the public sentiment. Mainly, we find the guy boring. Outside of whining to officials about everything imaginable (he complained to the referee during a recent game against the Washington Capitals because he thought the fans were throwing an excessive amount of hats on the ice after a hat trick by rival superstar Alex Ovechkin), and his admittedly sick amount of talent, Crosby is vanilla. And while vanilla is good it doesn’t get anyone fired up.

The impression that he gives is a neutral one. Like maybe he’d be OK playing out the season in spectator-less arenas and simply concentrating on hockey. And, while that may not be true, it’s the vibe he gives off and one thing sports fans won’t tolerate is an athlete who refuses to acknowledge their part in the process.

What really sucks about all of this is, if the Penguins somehow manage to win the Stanley Cup, when Crosby lifts it over his head, most hockey fans will fill ripped off because we;ll feel neither the good guys or the bad guys triumphed. The boring whiner did.   

Quotation: By night, an atheist half believes in God. Edward Young

Tune: On advice from my brother Jeremy, I’m attempting to get into Say Hi To Your Mom. So far, I like what I hear. Try “The Death of Girl Number Two.”

Gallimaufry: Declining honeybee populations represent a potentially disastrous problem for the world’s ecosystem. And no one’s really been able to explain how it’s happening. But it looks like there might be hope. ∞ Hollywood is one step closer to completing its mission of destroying everything from my past. The most recent victim? Footloose, the 1984 Kevin Bacon classic that was so dorky-cool most guys didn’t seem to mind it was about dancing. If the initial casting choices for the remake are any indication, this movie is going to absolutely blow. ∞ Blink-182 has reunited and I’ve watched them the past two nights on The Tonight Show with Jay Leno. I’m a huge fan of the band’s albums. Ask anyone. But they’ve always been considered a shitty live act and, from what I’ve seen, that’s not a perception in danger of going away anytime soon.

Incoming: TomorrowAnnoying Sayings & Misused Words. Friday3 Things To Do In Philly When You’re Dead and more.