da plane, da plane

I wandered through the old Clarendon ‘hood yesterday because I needed to stop at La Chapparel Latino market to snag some queso fresco for the Anaheim and pablano chile stuffed enchiladas (most excellent, if anyone’s asking). The market has a small space just off the front of the store that used to house the wine with occasional wine tastings and Flamenco dance lessons on summer Saturday afternoons. The wine and ruffles have now been replaced by Boccato Gelato (they also do coffee but I can’t remember the coffee par of the name. Both the market and the gelato are just east of Wilson Blvd. and N. Edgewood, across from Whole Foods). The market owner told me that’d simply rented out the space to the new company and let them run down their own path. It’s a small place that’s full when there are six folks standing in line for service but it’s well worth the wait. They’ve got an excellent selection of gelato – which in my book, is way better than any ice cream ever made – and the price is respectable ($4.25 for two scoops). Fortunately, I had five bucks in my pocket because they don’t yet accept credit or debit cards. I went with one hit of pistachio and one hit of hazelnut; I’m nothing if not a nut-driven gelato guy. What they appeared to be missing were pans of fior di latte or riso, which are the classic Italian gelatos; if you can do those well, you’re golden. As I was paying my tab and heading out I noticed that the manager (or owner?) was wearing a Bottega Italiana t-shirt. Bottega Italiana is just around the corner from Pike Place market in Seattle and Sarah and I had some great gelato there a few years back; I’ve always remembered the quality there and I wonder if he’s spun off from Bottega or maybe the he’s the owner who’s decided to move east and expand. I’ll corner him next time and get the scoobies.

I learned this week that 2009 marks the 30th anniversary of the music CD. From what I gather, 1979 was the “date” of invention but the first release in stores wasn’t until 1982 (it was an Abba’s last studio album, Visitors). What’s interesting about the CD – by the way, a good bit of this was exposed to me by the Sound Opinions podcast – was that the CD enabled the music industry to continue to thrive for two decades, at just the point where it was probably beginning to sag. I think they said that something like 3.5 billion CD have been sold and a good chunk of that number must be made up of people repurchasing albums they already owned. If you think about everyone turning their album collections into CDs, it’s pretty mind blowing. Of course, it also unwittingly marked the beginning of the end for the big labels; the technology opened the door for every thing we see today. Quite an anniversary, eh?

My friend Buzz was in town last week and came over to the wilds of NoVa Friday afternoon. The two of us took in the Udvar-Hazy Air and Space Museum that afternoon – absolutely no crowds – he spent Friday night at the house, and we did some D.C. things early Saturday morning before he headed to BWI for his flight back to Dallas. The two funniest bits of the visit involved planes and pizza. First, the planes. For a couple of retired Air Force flyers, we know precious little about historical plane identification. Sure, we can point to a sleek, black jet and scream out “SR-71”; or look at a huge white vehicle and say “Space Shuttle”, like a couple of simpletons. Everything else? Good luck. As we’re walking around the place and spying any prop-driven WWI or WWII plane we’re just blowing out smoke saying things like “Is that a P-46?” – basically just adding any number to the letter “P” and trying to sound intelligent. I think every volunteer tour guide (usually someone around 60-years-old, British, and a plane watcher) just flinched as they listened to these two yobs babble on and on. Of course, it didn’t help that at every turn all Buzz could add to the conversation was a loud declaration, “Didn’t Pappy Boyington fly that?” What a couple of yucks.

Pizzagate didn’t arrive until about 8 pm as I’m pulling handmade pizzas out of the oven. I was admittedly running a little late and the natives were just bitchy: “I’m hungry”, “I’m dying”, “Hurry up.” The first thing I learn from X and Buzz, as they conversed like I wasn’t there in the kitchen, is that my only job is to cook the damn food and have it on the counter when they’re good-and-ready to eat. They don’t care if it’s cold because there’s a microwave right over there and they know how to work it – monkeys do have fingers. Apparently, I’m the only one interested in timing the meal so it arrives warm and luscious – they, are infidels. The second part of pizzagate was this: I made a full sheet beef, pepperoni, and black olive pizza; and a normal, square veg pizza for the Eleven. Here’s what I figured: Buzz is manly man from Texas, via North Carolina, and he wants meat on his pie. So, I make an extra large pie so he and the boys can eat away at the monstrosity. I dish up two big pieces for him to eat – which he sort of does – until he finally spits out that he’d rather have the veggie pie than eat the very subtle kid’s pizza. Well, whaddya know? Maybe you should say something instead of crying on the inside…think about that. Fortunately, there was some veggie left and he managed to eat a piece whilst still crying about this-and-that and already being full – like I need these two in my kitchen. Good for nothings…

I’ll let you go for know; consider yourselves updated.

get out your old pill bottle....

A few quick music notes: Buddy and Julie Miller have a new CD out, Written in Chalk, that’s full of great songs. I was playing it today, repeatedly, and at some point X let me know that she didn’t much care for Julie’s voice. It’s not surprisingly since I’ve always felt there was little doubt it takes some getting used to. I quite like it but I’ve been listening to it for 15 years. If you don’t like her lead singing then feel free to skip those songs and still be amazed at the talent that Buddy has for writing and playing music; and Julie for singing harmony. The second tip is the newest Derek Trucks Band CD, Already Free. Trucks is probably the greatest living slide guitar player – at least of those that aren’t on some street corner in Muscle Shoals, Alabama that we’ve never heard of. We caught him a few years ago in Virginia and he and his band are stunning. If you want to open up the windows this spring and kick back, you need some Derek Trucks.

My book recommendation, for those that love exploration, is The Lost City of Z by David Grann. The summary is that it covers the great explorations for a lost Amazon city – possibly El Dorado – that took thousands of lives and create a million myths. If you love stories of real adventure, get on it.

Spring is all about the joint and I’ve penciled in next Saturday as vegetable garden creating and planting day. I think X has some square foot gardening plan that takes full effect this year. I’ll do the weeding and cooking with herbs and veg…beyond that, I’m out.

I just got my $2.1m stimulus check in the mail today. Unfortunately, Pelosi and Reid have created a 96% tax on Todd’s stimulus check just to be constitutionally challenged, little bitches. It’s truly comical.

Love to all.

t

...everybody's got one.

While I was volunteering at the Library of Congress over the weekend there was a family of five (ma, pa, three kids between 5-11, or so) who stopped by the desk and inquired about directions to the Spy Museum in D.C. I immediately called upon my very helpful Todd and told them that walking north to Union Station and taking the Red Line to Gallery Place/Chinatown was the best option. Being that the Museum is just around the corner from the Metro stop – and there’s a nice selection of food in the area – I felt I’d fulfilled a very important tourist need. What I realized after spitting out this brilliant information, as if some autotron, was that the Spy Museum stinks. I took L. there during one of her visits and neither of us was impressed in the least. She’s perfectly happy to be a bit more restrained when reviewing places we visit but she didn’t think much of it and it was pretty high on her list of things to do. I passed along to mom that I thought the place was a waste of money (at $18 or so, per person) and that most kids probably wouldn’t find it terribly fun – there are some interview videos that talk about the usual FBI and CIA moles that were caught but it’s not something most kids would enjoy. The museum tries to make it fun – they certainly have external ads that make it seem like it would be fun – but the place is definitely not worth nearly $100 for a family of five. For the same price they’d be much better off doing the NewSeum in D.C. I haven’t been, but there’s an eleven-year-old in the house who raved about it for three days after his school took a field trip there. For about the same price, that’s a much better review. Of course, I told them that for free they could take the kids to the Air and Space Museum and would probably have a much more enjoyable time. As I was finishing my little ‘summary’ of the place I realized that maybe I was being a bit too judgmental (just like I am with movies, music, Celine Dion, and my friend Buzz’s movie ratings.) It was then that the patent attorney who always works the desk with me – and who’s lived in D.C. for thirty years – pipes up with “I’ve never heard anyone say anything good about the place.”

You want to know what brought this up? How about this. Someone at CNN is writing stories based on tour books.

Just put my good deeds on a Tiffany gift certificate.

whack jobs

I was listening to some commentary this morning about the various state governors either refusing stimulus money in whole, or wanting to move the money from one program to another. I’m of the opinion that governors probably have a better idea of where their state might need funds but, unfortunately, it becomes a problem when stimulus money is just passed out to folk and they are allowed to do as they please (see: AIG). If a federal stimulus plan is based on the ideals of the administration and congress in charge then it’s going to lead to some gnashing of teeth on programs. Clearly, the Obama plan is to build infrastructure, education, support unemployment benefit pools, and hopefully reassess and support the mortgage market. If, as a governor, you don’t agree with that, so be it – make a rational argument. But if you’re Mark Sanford (S.C.) apparently your input is that the stimulus package will lead to “debt” and “higher taxes” As Seth and Amy might say, really? If you want to push back, not take money, request to move money, or fight for your people….do so, just don’t look like an idiot. How exactly does he think it is going to work? I’ll give Gov. Sanford a story problem: you need $100,000 to get yourself through a year of your life but you only earn $70,000 a year and you can’t sell your house because the market’s for junk. What are you going to do Mr. Man? You either need to bring in more money or you’ll need to borrow. Or, if you’re Mark Sanford, you complain that living with less than you need can’t possibly be remedied if those are the choices. Sanford is nothing but static gumming up the airwaves. The state of South Carolina requires more money than they are bringing in and they’ve got a few choices: cut services, raise taxes, or increase debt. Take your pick as opposed to saying that your choices are cutting services, raising taxes, or increasing debt; that’s actually the question, not the answer. If your state’s unemployment benefit pool is almost empty and you are offered help then you should probably take it. Yes, I understand that the money won’t magically be created down the road; it’ll have to come from higher taxes and it adds to the debt – do you think you’re telling us something we don’t know? And if I may, finally, I’ll add that Sanford is a Republican – a hack Republican, but a Republican, nonetheless – and his party has spent hundreds of billions of dollars that the government didn’t actually have – we also call that debt in the liberal movement. In order to pay back this debt….they cut taxes. What? Let’s see: I ran up my credit card with more than I can afford and I think the best solution might be for me to quit my job and cut my revenues; excellent plan. That’s that, I guess.

On a lighter note; sports fans are nuts. I’m a huge fan of a number of teams – most don’t win many championships – but I don’t think that I ever get completely thrown off my rocker. Some of the Capitals fans who “contribute” to the blog at the WaPo are seriously crazed people. (The Caps have had a very uneven start to the month.) I actually think there are old coots out there who think they should win every, single game – it’s mind-numbing. Maybe I just shouldn’t read the blog; there’s a solution.

My cat, even though already demanding more than is necessary, has decided to actually speak to me when she wants her pets. She used to just climb up on my lap but suddenly she’s taken to making noise prior to arrival and attacking my hand with the top of her pretty little head. I didn’t ask for any of this…

try this on for size

This has been rattling around in my head all day – and it’s something that my baby passed along last night – no doubt after our very in-depth Ethicist discussion about contractors and sub-contractors. I’ll try to recreate it as best as I can recall. Most people tend to marry and/or date those that are similar to what their life has presented them as they grow up. There’s no doubt some association between your girlfriend or wife, and where and how you were raised. What this leads to is wondering about Barack Obama. He was raised primarily by his mother and her family in Hawai’i – a place I’ve never been but I’m doesn’t have a huge African-American presence. He was raised by a white household with very little presence in his house from the black community. Being that he’s mixed race he could just as easily ended up marrying someone white; in fact, that may have been something more expected based on his life experiences, including his time at Harvard. This question, though, isn’t necessarily about why or how he ended up marrying Michelle, it’s about what would have happened – or where would he be – if he had married someone white? It all wraps my brain around a post too many times to sort out. I thought I’d just throw it into your mind to see what happens.

Good luck,

t

a pinch of this

On March 26th, we (The Eleven and the North Park Drive contingent) have reservations for a boutique dining thingy (see above). It takes place at Farrah Olivia which has become our go-to restaurant in the D.C. area. And by “go-to” I’m snaking X’s idea that once you find something that’s so good there isn’t any reason to keep looking. I guess we could try a hundred restaurants in the area in search of nirvana but you just know that at least 90 of them wouldn’t suit our tastes. In that scenario we’d be out thousands of dollars with nothing to show aside from our love of Morou and his joint down in Alexandria. Why bother?

The problem this little date presents is that I’ve been watching Hell’s Kitchen for the last few weeks – the new season plus the entire last season online – and I might lash out, Gordon Ramsey style. What if something shows up at the table and I start screaming “It’s f*&king cold! Come here and touch it! Everyone, TOUCH IT!”; or, “Do you want to go home! You’re a chef!?! You’re f@#king STEALING from people! GET OUT!”, and then proceed to kick the garbage cans and smash plates. What if that happens? I guess it’d be embarrassing. Maybe I’ll take some time off Ramsey before the date. “Madam, are you stupid! You’re a lazy COW!”

Last night the boys handed me a chunk of stapled paper that was apparently some of G.’s homework. They’d been giggling over it for an hour or so as both Otto’s typed away on their mother’s computer. It was a science project about animals – I’m guessing, but I think G. chose shrimp – that’s suppose to cover things like mating habits, physical characteristic, life cycles, etc. Well, they’d come up with a brilliant idea to write a story about shrimp that involved giving a shrimp a family, making up names, bringing in friends and relatives, talking about how grandma and grandpa had ended up as scampi, and myriad other hilarious tales. There was one bit about how father had turned into mother but the kid shrimp still loved Dad (I had to go to wikipedia for that one – see protandric sex change.) What it reminded me of is the idea that if teachers give projects and then allow kids to create something funny and interesting with it, things go much better. Why force an 11-year-old to simply fill out a worksheet? I’d totally give him an A+++ for completing the assignment and making it enjoyable.

Let’s talk about Eli Whitney, there’s some fun.

diatribe

I've finally caught up on some news and shows. I'll be brief. Jon Stewart has never been a great interviewer but his comedic commentary is impeccable. The war of words between he and Jim Cramer completely exploded this week and Cramer agreed to appear on Thursday night. I'd recommend watching the entire week's worth of shows, but if you aren't up for it then at least watch the three-part unedited interview that you can find at www.thedailyshow.com. Cramer gets credit for sitting down for this undressing, trying to admit his jackassery, and taking it like a man. You can write this off as comedy, as a liberal comedian being a tool, or as something you don't want to hear, but the truth is...

Fuck you, Jim Cramer.

earle to earle

Another music post, it happens. I was surfing around for good live clips of artists I like - while staying away from Hell's Kitchen and after watching Angel by Shaggy - and I came across two great pieces. The first is Galway Girl by Steve Earle from a performance at the Kennedy Center. This was during the one of Steve's Irish phases (I think he was dating an Irish lass at the time) and is one of my favorites songs. Of course, for those that know Earle's work you could have gotten any number of things thrown at you on any album - Dukes loud, folk, Irish, bluegrass, DJ, country, Americana, or some Townes. I chose this one because it's a good recording, excellent camera work, a great band, and he looks quite content.

(If you're listening on a laptop, wear headphones...they sound much better. If you're on a PC or iMac, turn up the speakers.)



The second is Steve's son, Justin, doing a cover of his dad's Tom Ames' Prayer - another great song. As you can tell from the chit chat, Justin doesn't much like doing Steve's songs for whatever reason so it's rare to get a video of this quality. I first saw Justin play at a show at the Barbican in London when he toured with Steve and Steve's sister, Stacey. They all played acoustic sets and popped on and off the stage for duets or trios throughout the night. That was probably 7 or 8 years ago and Justin was just a long, tall kid. I've been waiting for him to release some of his stuff and he finally opened with an EP a few years (barely) back, Yuma. He's followed it up quickly with two full-length offerings: last year's The Good Life, and the just-released Midnight at the Movies. Both are excellent works and I think this could be a huge year for him; Midnight is that good. If you see him touring nearby, make an effort to get out and catch a set.>

consonant, consonant, vowel, another vowel....i've got a seven.

I stumbled upon a grand British row quite by accident today. During my years living in England I learned to love three things: AA Gill, Jeremy Paxman, and University Challenge (and Jamie Oliver; Cilla Black; Nevermind the Buzzcocks [Mark Lamarr verision]; Ready, Steady, Cook; People Like Us; Top of the Pops; Charlie Dimmock, and Carol Vorderman. I forgot about those.) If you don’t know much about any of these then you might want to switch off, but if you do then you’ll enjoy the initial piece by Gill from the 1 March 2009 Sunday Times; here’re the pertinent paragraphs:

“How pleased were you that Gail Trimble, the classics postgrad, led Corpus Christi to victory in University Challenge’s final? Incredibly clever girls are just really hot. I know that’s not an admirable or worthy admission from a middle-aged man, but it’s true. Spectacled academics with split ends and logarithmically come-hither expressions who might whisper the periodic table in your ear are deeply sexy. In place of “GSOH” attached to lonely hearts ads, very soon we’ll be getting “KAT2” — Knows a Thing or Two.

I’m torn by University Challenge. Having given Paxman a kicking last week, I should say he is exceptionally good at keeping this very simple quiz show exciting and vaguely human. Never having personally troubled academia, and being a chippy autodidact who will never use a short word when three etiolated, logorrheically otiose ones are available, I naturally and cravenly find it winning, as I also found the contestants marvellously risible. It’s that delicious mixture of self-conscious youth trying to look cool while simultaneously showing off, and my own shaming surge of smugness when I get a starter for 10 ahead of the wonky egghead.”

Classic. Absolutely, classic Gill. As I was searching about to find a picture of the incredibly clever Gail, I learned that Corpus Christi College was stripped of the UC championship due to an ineligible student – what I wouldn’t give for an evening around a pub debating the merits and chivalry of British pub quizzes. Based on the amount of press coverage that Ms. Trimble received in the built-up to the final, I’m sure the country was all atwitter at the title-stripping from our Gail (sorry, channeling Cilla).

If you want further reading on the set to, you can read more here and here.

Brilliant.

and the winner is...

I was driving through Arlington on Saturday afternoon when I was stopped at a traffic signal and noticed this law firm on a corner of Washington Blvd. I might be crazy but I figure it would be best to just change the name to Paulson Law – as it is now, it seems a bit over the top, “Hey, which Paulson are you?”

Here’s an interesting conundrum for you to ponder. If you’re at work and there’s been a slow down in chores to be done, do you go to your supervisor and throw your name in the hat for additional tasks or do you just wait it out? Would it matter to you if the economy was a bit sluggish? How high do want to raise your hand in that class?

Here’s another: according to Virginia State Law I can work the polls for elections (which I’ve been doing for nearly three years) and don’t have to take leave or vacation time from work. I happened to stumble across this nugget whilst renewing my annual appointment letter; in the past I’ve been taking either vacation time or making up the hours before/after the election. Our polling hours are 6a-7p plus an additional three hours for pre-/post-election duties – it’s a long day.

One more fact – I’m nothing if not facts today. I’ve heard recently that about 12% of the employed population in America works in the non-profit sector. As the non-profits struggle for both monetary support and sponsorship it could be a heavy hit against employment as those sources dry up and jobs disappear. As a comparison, that 12% number is greater than the numbers employed by either the auto or financial service industry.

A number of weeks ago we were playing a bastardized combination of Charades and Cadoo!. The thought behind creating this strange stew was driven by some clay gone bad in the Cadoo! game and the boys’ desire to simply act out all the game’s clues. I, as a trained thespian, always feel that when acting out words or ideas in a game scenario, one should build and tell a story; don’t just hop up and act like a chicken in order to get people to scream out “chicken!”. If the answer is skiing then I’ll spend some time “getting my boots on”, “sitting on the chairlift”, and “adjusting my goggles” before “hitting the slopes”. It’s always entertaining to hear kids and adults alike yelling out things like “tying your shoes!”, “sitting on the couch!”, or “combing your hair” before you finally swoosh away and they all scream “SKIING!!!” at the top of their freakish little lungs. I consider myself the Robert Downey Jr. of Cadoo! This may seem like a long back story, and it is, but it’ll now turn to a mea culpa of tropical fruit knowledge. Aha!, a quick turn of the mystery. I was given a card that required me to write my screenplay to support the acting goal: pineapple. Not an easy task if you think about it. As I was trying to create a scene in my mind I decided that I’d need to create some “sunshine”, maybe an “ocean”, a “beach”, and eventually a “tree”. (As expected, these led to many false stars, “moon!”, “water!”, “tree!”, etc.) My hook had been set as I reached up into the “tree”, picked a “pineapple”, pulled it down, and began to peel and core it. Well, some joker in the crowd shouts out “coconut” which is just silly because who’d peel and core a coconut? Do they not recognize my acting skills? Clearly, it’s nothing that I’m doing wrong. I reenact the scene – with more feeling – and the crazies are sort of thinking, but mostly just screaming mindless answers, before X finally cocks her head to one side like a confused puppy and says, in a quizzical way, “pineapple?” Yes! I stroll to the podium to accept my Oscar© for Best Actor in a Leading Role when I’m suddenly tripped up by some crazy comment from the front row: “Pineapples don’t grow in trees, they grow on low bushes on the ground! (chuckle chuckle chuckle)” What? How to get around this little issue? What would Marisa Tomei do? It took only seconds for me to sort out my riposte to this heresy: “You did say ‘pineapple’, correct? Then I rest my case. That, my friends, it Actors’ Studio acting.”

Oh, here’s Marisa Tomei, in case you’re wondering. She’s long ago been invited to my new famous people dinner party that X decided she should have input on. Here’s the original list of folk – maybe it’s time for an update.


Hello out theeeeerrrrreeeeeee.....

T

just the facts

This is clearly untenable. We need clowns and circus performers. When immigration offices get in the way of the circus then things have gone too far – we need circuses, especially in these hard times. Maybe I’ll start an organization.

I took WonderTwin 2 to another Caps game last night in hopes that we could break the curse. Not happening. Not only did the Caps lose their third straight at home, Ovechkin didn’t even play. He’d only missed one game due to injury in his career, and now he’s got to deal with her. The team is now 0-4 with her in attendance. She is not going to any playoff games this season.

The Eleven is heading the Kennedy Center on Monday night to get our Irish in order for the month via a show by The Chieftains. I’ve been waiting to see them for a number of years and a fancy pants venue can’t be the worst option in the world.

We had the big storm last Sunday night with about 4-5 inches hitting the D.C. area. Needless to say, they shut the joint down and most everyone stayed home. I did make my way into work at about 9am and it was pretty nasty on the streets. Everything held steady, weather wise, for about two days but the warmth has finally returned. I think we’re expecting mid-60s to low-70s this weekend.

On Tuesday night, while waiting for X at the Metro stop, I was parked next to a guy who’d gotten out of his Toyota Corolla to stand and watch out for his pick up target. I don’t know why I found it surreal but he was about 6’3’’, maybe 50 years old, glasses, bad mullet, smoking a cigarette, and wearing black boots and a calf-length mink coat. I half expected to see some cameras filming a reality show. I also thought that I can finally pull out my full-length mink coat and start rolling like that again.

Not much doing out here.

will pay for life

This article has to be a joke, right? I don’t even know where to start when some moral belief – that I happen to disagree with – is stopped due to funding. Doesn’t this imply that these bill drafters are soft on crime? Isn’t killing someone the only way to strap-on our holster and prove we’re bad asses? It seems that if they can put some money in the coffers, for whatever purpose, then the death penalty isn’t actually a necessity to fight crime. How about convicting the people and sentencing them to life without parole? Not enough of a punishment? Nice.

mummy

On Saturday night the kinfolk from North Park Dr. brought over lobster bisque, fresh bread, two pies (one key lime, one chocolate crème), and we provided a goddess salad for a quick feast. The quick part was driven by a 5pm sit down and a 6pm departure for the Eleven to head into the District for a Patton Oswalt comedy show. Oswalt has a new set of material that he was filming for a Comedy Central special and forthcoming CD. We both enjoyed the show and agreed that he really hit his stride about halfway through the set. I’ll pass along right now that the term “sky cake” will maintain a place our own little lexicon of inside jokes stolen from those we like. Well, it’ll actually be sky cake and “if that’s what you’re trying to do then I’ve seen better.” It was a long week and a few hours of comedy were a welcome break.

During dinner the two men were unwillingly brought into a discussion about the Wonder Twins and their elementary education in western Mass. It’s not like we weren’t forced into participating when they both took bites of the chocolate pie and commented that it had a nice pudding-like quality; something that reminded them of butterscotch pudding, and here’s how (please use a British and/or private school accent while reading):

Twin #1: “This lovely pudding harkens back to our days at Bement.”
Twin #2: “Ah, yes, the butterscotch pudding at our luncheons.”
#1: “Remember the hilarity as the headmaster scooped the pudding from the caldron at the head of the table and passed each china plate down to us?”
#2: “Ha ha ha. The lovely chatter of children; ponies, yoga, looming…”
#1: “Remember how we’d ensure the pudding was properly distributed before tea?”
#2: “Ha ha ha. I also remember being ravenous after a smashing field hockey match; we’d certainly keep a keen eye on the pudd!”
#1: “Ah, the days.”

Corey and I added that Thursday was hamburger day at our schools.

One of musical heroes, Buddy Miller, suffered a heart attack last week after a show in Baltimore. He checked into Johns Hopkins for bypass surgery and will apparently make a full recovery. He and his wife, Julie, have a new CD out tomorrow and I wish him a speedy recovery but I don’t imagine we’ll see him back on the road in the immediate future. Here’s a repeat of a snap from a great show in Reno where Buddy opened for – and then was the band for – Emmylou Harris.


Love to all,

t

by the tail

There’s always a lot of bantering about the Sports Illustrated athlete of the year. The result, Michael Phelps, was announced months ago but today’s events merely highlighted a name someone threw out during that discussion so long ago: Tiger Woods. I don’t watch much golf anymore, nor do I play, but I will still tune in online to follow Tiger and the Majors. The idea that Tiger was athlete of the year in 2009 – particularly when Phelps won eight Olympic golds – seemed strange until you put his six months in perspective. First, dude won the U.S. Open with a torn ACL (MCL?) and a broken leg. He walked all five rounds (it went to a one-round playoff on Monday) and applied an unimaginable amount of torque to a busted up leg and still managed to beat the world’s best golfers in golf’s toughest test. Second, when he announced that he’d miss the rest of the season and undergo surgery, the PGA Tour basically became non-existent. I don’t have the numbers for TV viewership or tournament attendance but they were no doubt devastated. In fact, I’d venture to say that no sport, at least in America and probably globally, is so wholly dependent on one athlete. Don’t get me wrong, Phelps was amazing, but if you removed him from swimming (and he’ll be retired soon enough) the Olympics would have gone on without missing him, globally, in the slightest. Tiger was back in competition today, eight months after departing, and won his opening match play challenge. All eyes will once again be focused on August the first full weekend in April. If he wins the Masters this year then we can simply remove him from any athlete of the year competition: he’ll have moved beyond comparison to mere mortals.

There's your sport for the week.

fun-da-mentals (clap clap - clap clap clap)

One of Slate’s writers finally added his voice to the much read and discussed Shane Battier story in the NYTimes Sunday Magazine from a few weekends ago. The kinfolk from Vermont were down visiting for Second Christmas when one of our late night rap sessions slipped toward sport and superstars. It’s happened in the past, and I’m probably the cause of the jumps, but there are some sports happenings that equate well to various real-life situations – I don’t remember the source of this particular foray. Oddly enough, the morning after our chat the Battier piece shows up on our doorstep as if called from the beyond. I also broached the subject of the article with my resident Sabermetrician and he assured me that the article “was all the talk” in and around the community over the weekend. I felt a bit nerdy knowing that something I found interesting was the “talk” of the Sabermetrician community; they’re a strange breed.

The piece struck me in two different ways: first, it confirmed my long-held suspicions that there are many aspects of team athletic endeavors that go unnoticed. As X pointed out while reading the article, why have we chosen to only accept (and pay athletes) by the defined box score numbers we see in the paper? Second, I wanted to believe that I was Shane Battier – and I’m also apparently the guy who could be writing the Slate piece. Hey, I lived in Arlington until this year and I have prescription Rec Specs! Secondly, my final season of playing organized basketball was way back in 1995 as I was finishing up my first tour in England and a lot of the story rings true for a mid-level player. I finally gave up playing after that year because when you hit 30 it all becomes too much. Well, that and the fact that I have a very low threshold of pain and blowing out a knee didn’t seem like anything I might be interested in experiencing. And, if I may let you know, most military bases have regular basketball leagues and over-30 leagues: I was barely interested enough in playing with 18- and 19-year-olds heaving up twenty-five footers and dressing like MJ – there was no way I was showing up to play with the old guys. My retirement at 30 had long been on the table and that Spring it was formally announced and reported to my rearview mirror on my drive home through the English fens. Those last two seasons were spent doing the same junk I'd always done: rebounding, blocking out, playing defense, setting picks, moving without the ball, and hoping that the *Kevin Johnson-wannabe point guard would somehow manage to not turn the ball over or possibly figure out how to use a pick. Two things quickly became evident way back then: the point guard would never figure out the pick and I was getting way too old and tired to play with the kids. It was also during that final season that I was ejected from a game for the first time. Oddly enough, it wasn’t because I was hanging 30 points on the opposition or yanking down 20 rebounds and the other team was targeting me; it was because of a beautiful blindside pick set on the point guard’s defender as they were hurtling down the court. For some reason, or more likely simple luck, the point ran his man right into the pick. I had the benefit of seeing it coming (don’t think I wasn’t smiling….) and had time to brace for impact. The poor defender was simply de-cleated, if you will, and he was pissed at everything. No foul was called but chucklehead was none too happy when he got up off the ground and threw a punch. I ducked – I’m a lover, you know – and the ref ejected us both: he for being a jerk, me for being too good. Or being Shane Battier, had we known.

I pulled off my Rec Specs, wiped the sweat away, and headed home. A good night, indeed.

t

*I had to dig through my dusty brain to come up with a 1995 era point guard. I was going to throw out Steve Nash or Allen Iverson but that would have taken my readers outside the picture I was creating. I would have had all kinds of feedback about how Steve Nash wasn’t yet an NBA MVP so how could that kid in 1995 have wanted to be Steve Nash? Was he Canadian? Nevermind.

sonar love

Here’s a little grammar discussion to lighten the mood. It seems like I’m forever trying to sort out the ‘I and me’ conundrum and it never sticks. I guess me should hang around those who are dubbed ‘mavens’.

I heard an interesting interview on NPR this morning (the podcast is better than the written article) that looked at our current economic troubles and measured them against Japan’s in the 1990s. Since there aren’t many economic wonks around the Hilltop I’m not sure how strong the support is for the points put forth but they are intriguing. I would hope that if there’s a working, breathing example of what we’re experiencing, someone would grab it by the scruff of the neck and take a good, long look at it. The gist seems to be that if private spending disappears (in Japan the interest rates were lowered from 8% to zero in an attempt to bolster private money movement, but to no avail) something or somebody needs to step in and fill the void. The obvious, and only, choice is the government but this leads to more debt; and isn’t it rich that the word debt just scares the bejeezus out of people? In Japan, the government infused some money but just as quickly backed off due to the debt burden; they tried again, and again, and again over time but the false starts and intermittent chunks of cash probably did more harm than good. The problem, and theory of repair, is called balance sheet recession and the goals when clawing out of the hole is to keep the GDP up and unemployment down until there’s an end in sight. What happens is the government spends enough to keep the economy from collapsing – not necessarily growing – and takes on debt while the private sector struggles to get back on balance. Once the private sector gets its house in order then it takes over the spending and growth responsibility while the government backs off and starts to repay the increased debt. The great fear we all have is that the spending will happen but later on down the road the government won’t actually make the switch of payments and we’ll end up with lots of debt, tons of useless furniture, and we’ll slip underwater again.

I just realized that grammar isn’t really light discussion, is it? I’m showing my dorkapotomus colors. This one actually is light and funny and might help you get through the final hours of the day. I’ll tell you right up front that when I used to watch SuperFriends on Saturday mornings back in the 70s, my favorite superhero was….oh, nevermind. I feel used.



T

it's not light; it's not easy

It’s Friday and time for some pop psychology. My hand was forced by a piece in the NYTimes that drew me into the abyss. I remember reading about the four, execution-style killings in Iraq shortly after they happened. I think Vanity Fair or some other mag did a long piece describing what happened that night and added some background on the four soldiers involved. The verdict is in on the first soldier with three more courts-martial to follow. I’m not of the mind to debate the trials of war and the actions of players in that arena because I don’t have any experience with gunfire, killing, destruction, and that sort of misery. I do have some experience with any number of survival schools and the techniques involved: we were trained in what to expect if we became a POW. The survival training that’s managed by the AF does not – contrary to letters and stories about other services’ training – provide any type of training that would be applied if we were dealing with POWs. One thing you learn very quickly is that a lack of sleep, endless playing of loud music, yelling, screaming, and the answering of endless stupid questions will break you down almost immediately. When continued for any period of time – maybe two days? – you’ve got nothing but mush for brains and any ability you might have had to reason had started to fade away. The psychological effects could easily become permanent if you didn’t at least have some sense that there was an end in sight; without that hope, it would be unbearable.

What got me going on this subject was the testimony of Col. Charles Hoge. Here’s the excerpt from the Times article:

“In closing arguments earlier, Leahy's civilian lawyer, Frank Spinner, argued that Leahy went along with the killings because he was dazed from a lack of sleep and numb from being in a war zone for months. It was a sentiment bolstered on Thursday in testimony from Col. Charles Hoge, a doctor and director of psychology and neuroscience at the Army's Walter Reed Army Institute of Research.” (italics added)

I obviously don’t know the colonel and I have no idea what his opinion might be on torture, or whatever it was that Bush, Cheney, and Rumsfeld so loved. If an Army soldier, or soldiers, are willing to execute bound Iraqis – Iraqis released by their own superiors due to lack of any evidence of involvement in an attack – because they were “dazed from a lack of sleep and numb from being in a war zone for months”, what do you think the lack of sleep and numbness caused by being held without charge, without a trial, and tortured for five or six years might do to someone’s mental state? I don’t know if the four killed were guilty or not, but someone in that chain-of-command decided there wasn’t enough reason to hold them, and yet, at least one Sgt. decided that murder was the answer. I don’t know how many of those held and released, or still held, in Guantanamo (or other locations) are guilty or innocent. We do know that something like 500 have been released because there wasn’t enough evidence to charge them. Do we think that all 500 of those just sat around a nice comfortable holding cell while those in charge sorted out the evidence for five years? Probably not.

And so, it comes to this: we have the Army testifying that sleep deprivation and the numbness of war can lead U.S. soldiers to murder. Yet, a majority of Americans don’t think that sleep deprivation, numbness from incarceration, and fear of death is actually torture.

Let me close with this: I obviously don’t condone murdering anyone. I think that based on my survival training – and trying to extrapolate into some combat environment – these soldiers were mentally fucked up. Maybe the only way for them to express their anger or relieve their pain was to get together and decide to blow some heads off. More than the sadness of all the lives ruined, this story is far more important to me because there’s this little piece of what Col. Hoge supported in his testimony. Hoge let’s us know that there are people that see what an environment or external actions can do to another human being. Even with the knowledge out there that putting someone in a this type of situation can lead to such horrible acts; we chose to directly, and willfully, apply the same techniques to other. Unfortunately, we too often see the result of those events as something that only happens to us.

t

mr. 8, to you

I'll get this up quick so it can serve as first breakfasts. This is from last night's Capitals v. Canadiens game at Verizon. It developed so quickly that in real time it was nearly impossible to believe. The place went bonkers the more and more we saw the replay. The quick background: Ovechkin is coming of the bench that's on the far side of the rink (the left on your screen) on a line change. The Canadien defenseman is bringing the puck out of his own zone when one of two things cross his mind and/or peripheral vision: "I need to get rid of the puck and get back on defense or the Great 8 is going to embarrass me", or "I need to get rid of the puck and stop skating in a straight line or Ovechkin is going to steamroll me into the boards." I don't know if he decided which of the two was the better option but you can watch the result as many times as you'd like.

the sounds

More music as I return to the fold.

There's little greater in this world than a great four piece. You might think that the Beatles would top my list but it's merely a fool's bet; I've never cared much for the Liverpudlians. There are about three songs that I really love but I could do without the rest. Don't get me wrong; don't fire off angry emails: I fully accept the talent but it's not my thing. (It's sort of like the Eagles. I guess they're really good but I only like Take It Easy.) Sorry, I digress. The greatest four-piece band of all time is the mighty Slobberbone and one of the newest and greatest rollers are Gaslight Anthem. Are they the most talented dudes in the world? Nope. Would you love to stand around on the bouncing floor with a beer in your hand just smiling like an ass and...well, bouncing? Yep. In our year-end music review they got a lot of love, and deservedly so. Here's the link to the video I really want you to watch. Unfortunately, I can't embed it here. If you want an embedded version with sound that's not quite as good, here you go:



You might ask how you can tell the great ones? First and foremost, you need a guy who's geeking on the bass. Take special note in the Letterman video of just geekin' the bass player is off to the right; that's quality.

Long live rock n' roll, baby.

p.s. There's no such animal as a good Slobberbone video, and that's truly sad; I'll get to Brent Best and his talent later this week. But, don't despair, here are the Eagles kicking out some Take It Easy from 1973. I'm heading out to porn up the 'stache. Blaze up, baby, and turn it up loud.

paisano!

Last night was pizza night on The Hilltop. Thursday nights became the night for pie about two years ago when X was in a night class at law school and I’d do pizza and a DVD to occupy the troops. Since we moved in May the program has been revived – minus the DVD and plus the girlfriend – and slightly altered into the shape of a double pizza festival: one for the boys, one for us. (Yes, I make the crust with my loving hands. I knew you were wondering.) The boys have a usual customer order pie: tomato sauce, fresh sliced mozzarella, hamburger all around, black olives on half, pepperoni on half, shredded mozzarella, freshly grated parmesan, and oregano. The Eleven gets to experiment a bit with myriad vegetarian/non-meat pizza combinations that I try to change every week. Ours tends to be thinner on the crust, based on a pesto or olive oil sauce, and loaded down with all kinds of strange stuff: asparagus, sun-dried tomatoes, mushrooms, sage, red onions, sunny-side up eggs, arugula, spinach, black beans, feta, parmesan, mozzarella, oregano, etc. Last night I did a margarita-like pie with only mozzarella, tomatoes, cream cheese and oregano. All’s well that ends well, right?

Let me take you back to February 5th, a cold night in the hills overlooking Falls Church. I’d spent the day wondering what type of magical mystery I could whip up when I got home. I started thinking about a smoked salmon pizza; but, do I cook the pie with the salmon? You might wonder. I did some research and sorted out that the poisson (and everything else) is added after the crust – lovingly brushed with olive oil – is baked and ready; sounded fab to me. I swung by TJs on the way home and grabbed a few ingredients (and wine – a chef ingredient) before settling into the kitchen to create my masterpiece. I made a batch of Greek yoghurt and dill sauce, sliced the red onions and tomatoes, and readied the capers (the capers were reserved for my portion of the pie)*. I decided to make one whole, single baking sheet pizza because both boys like smoked salmon and it would made my life a bit easier. By the way, never think for one moment that a step you might imagine making your life easier will actually make your life easier. Anyway, as I’m rolling out crust and checking my mise-en-place I get a few passing questions that can be summarized by this, “What’s for dinner?” I replied that pizza was en route and I generally felt there was joy all around. When the objet d’art was out of the oven, put together, and cool enough to serve, I rang the cow bell and the kinfolk arrived at the kitchen bar. Oh my! The horror! What in the hell is this? The crocodile tears and looks of sheer panic flooded to the fore. What is he trying to do to us? X kindly reminded me that this particular food configuration was actually a breakfast pizza. H. needed a paper bag to keep from hyperventilating. G. might have licked the edge of his piece with the tip of his lizard tongue. It did not go well. I, for one, ate away happily at my hunks of luscious smoked salmon and dill pizza. Sometimes you have to take a beating at the hands of the tribe. Don’t color outside the lines. When you say pizza, mean pizza. I’m just here to the help the team, and good Lord willing, things will work out. All that jazz.

Maybe I’ll just make them some crappy frozen pizza and call it a night.

Don’t look them in the eyes, they’ll think you want to play.

Love to all

t

*Okay, I’ll fess up to something here that shouldn’t actually have a serious effect on the outcome. One of my weekend breakfast menu items is bagels, cream cheese, tomatoes, red onions, capers and smoked salmon. This pizza MAY appear to be similar but the beautiful crust, olive oil, and yoghurt/dill sauce takes it all to another galaxy. Galaxy.

boarding

There was a thread on the WaPo’s Washington Capitals blog yesterday that had me laughing aloud at the desk. As with all crazy sports fans, Caps fans always want more – the team was so bad for so long that it’s success over the last year-and-a-half leads to endless discussions of trades and desires toward other players. Most Caps followers think the team needs a big forward to push some folks around near the goal and play the role of enforcer on the ice. One name that’s been inked onto someone’s wish list is big George Parros (6’5” / 240) who currently hangs his jersey in the Anaheim Ducks’ locker room. Parros played four years of hockey at Princeton University and that background led to this blog input:

“I would love Parros on this team! A Princeton grad turned enforcer! It would be awesome to hear a detailed explanation about why he had to kick some tail! "It was an egregious offense that could not be brushed off so easily. I dismissed one transgression, but upon seeing the second, I deemed a round of bloodletting in order."

This one-act play dialogue was continued by another fan:

"Accordingly, I removed my excess equipment, namely the gauntlets and helmet, and set to upon the vile offender, whom, I am certain, has learned his lesson and shall not commit that particular offense again. Should he do so, I will stand ready to pummel him once more into submission!"

They were killing me yesterday. The Caps fell in a shootout to the NY Rangers at Madison Square Garden. It happens. They have two games down in Florida this weekend. Get back on the bike.

warning: grumpy bears

I want to make sure I’m not crazy. As with most office pool environments – cubicles, bad light, crappy equipment – my office has shared LAN printers. There’s only one in our laboratory and it had a signed posted above it that decried:

PLEASE PICK UP YOUR PRINTOUT OR IT WILL BE SHREDDED

A few weeks ago I tore it down and threw it away. There were many more reasons for me to do this – acting out, frustration, hatred – but I only want to focus on the crazy person who posted the sign. The idea that this little rubric would be posted at the printer is laughable. What? I’m going to walk to the printer after spooling my job and then say to myself, “Screw that! I’m not picking up my printout!” I’d think that posting one of these little signs on my monitor might be more useful. It’s kind of like a warning sign that isn’t actually a warning sign but a sign placed at the actual point of danger. Maybe instead of having a construction warning that alerts me to a lane ending in 1500 feet they could have just a single sign that reads “Road Ends Here”.

Needless to say, a new sign was immediately posted after my little fit.

They don’t get me.

working on a nightmare

As somewhat of a follow-up to the yelling and screaming about Billy Joel – and Springsteen – from the last few weeks, I give you this entry. I’m here to report, as a Springsteen fan, on his hot, new offering, Working on a Dream. I wrote every word of this while listening to the CD once through. Rest assured, it won’t get another listen.

Outlaw Pete – What is this? This is the opening track? I guess you don’t want me to listen to the rest of the CD. It seems to be a yarn with no point and bad music. I’ve got to say that I’m really disappointed in this effort. I’ll try to marry the imagery up to something beyond a baby robbing people in his diapers, marrying a Navajo, getting hunted by Dan, killing Dan, and riding off. Yikes. (grade: C-)

My Lucky Day – More droning music that attempts to vaguely sound like the E St. Band. I’ll guess that this song is either for his wife or his daughter; but who knows? Another poor song at the front of the CD. (D)

Working on a Dream – Please, give me something. At least there’s a groove going with the music – something missing on the openers – but lyrically it’s pretty hollow. It appears that Bruce is, in fact, workin’ on a dream…that’s the vibe I get. Clearly, he’s not workin’ on songs. (C+)

Queen of the Supermarket – “A dream awaits in aisle number two.”? Surely this is a joke. This is awful. A story song about a girl at the grocery who the narrator is smitten with? A fine subject rolled into a crappy song. I think Bruce needs to give her a name: Mary, Wendy, something! I don’t like a single bit of this song. Not one bit. In the end, he did get his groceries to his car. Well done. (F)

What Love Can Do – F. There’s my grade right off the bat. I don’t even need to listen all the way through to pass judgment. I’ll make it through the song out of respect, but it’s awful. This sounds like a bad bar band doing a bad song. It seems like he’s trying to address dire circumstances and where we lie within those circumstances. I’ll tell you what, just read that last crappy sentence I wrote and put it to music. There. Now you know. (F)

(mental health break)

This Life - I am seriously going to be sick. This dandy is about exploding stars, galaxies, the universe, love, etc. It’s really bad. He did work “I fingered the hem of your dress” into the song; it rhymes with “my universe at rest.” Putrid. (D-)

Good Eye – My, oh my. A semi-blues rocker that calls Tom Waits to mind. There are only about four lines of lyrics – which on this CD makes me thankful – but the music is at least respectable. In the grand scheme of things this song might warrant a B-, but in the context of this CD, and its other songs, I’ll grade it higher (B)

Tomorrow Never Knows – Cue some of the Sessions Band action. The is the first track with music that sounds fresh, even though it calls out to folk, and inviting. Once he works strings into the mix it showcases just how good he can be in the folk environment. That’s a good thing because as far as I can tell it’s all that he’s got left. (B+)

Life Itself – It was but a short reprieve. I don’t know if it’s Steven Van Zandt of Nils Lofgren playing the solo in the midst of this ship wreck but it’s horrid. Maybe this is a song about relationships and drinking (?), but honestly, I haven’t the vaguest idea. Droning droning droning. (D)

Kingdom of Days – At least there’s some rhythm to the cut. A nice chorus (as far as this CD is concerned) fills out this diddy about time passing and guys and girls walking through life. For the first time they FINALLY let Max Weinberg, Clarence Clemons, and Bitten/Federici cut loose on instruments. For that, the song gets some credit – but it’s not great. (B)

Surprise Surprise – Opens with the chorus and the band in full flight. Could this be something? We got a birthday party and a song sung to the birthday girl (?). Unfortunately, this could have been made-up at a kid’s request to ‘sing me a song about my birthday’. Maybe it was, there’s nothing wrong with that, but it’s not a very good song. (C-)

The Last Carnival – A song that would probably fit better on Nebraska. Lyrically, it’s probably the strongest on the CD; a clear story about the risks and hardships in life tied to a carnival life. I’m not too sure I like the ending with the choir showing up out of nowhere and wrapping up the song. (B-)

The Wrestler (Bonus Track) – There better be a bonus; maybe I should just call it a song added to the end. There’s finally something that does justice to what Springsteen can do when he puts his mind to it. I’m sure he worked hard on the actual CD part of the CD but the results aren’t good. This song, if you’ve seen trailers for The Wrestler, fits perfectly with the feel of the film. Maybe what Bruce needed was some focus. This is a really strong song. (A)

Overall? A few of the songs could possibly pull this debacle out of the garbage if it were another artist, and there were no expectations, but I’m calling him out for shoddy workmanship. This CD is nothing better than a C-/D+…and I’m being kind. Since The Wrestler is a bonus track I’m not letting it play with the other songs; it was clearly written in another time and place – maybe the late 1970s when Springsteen was really good – and won’t sway my opinion. Horrible.

I just tried to give the CD away to guy at work. No dice.

It’s a good thing he still puts on a good live show. I read the other day where Bruce said that he thinks his last three albums (not including Sessions) stand up positively against any three albums he’s every done. That is purely delusional.

I feel dirty.

gimme your lunch money!

As if I need this kind of aggro on a Monday morning. X forwarded me this NYTimes piece written by David Carr (Night of the Gun). It seems like less than a month since I bitched about some portion of the music industry; and now this? About 15 years ago Pearl Jam sued Ticketmaster (or maybe it was the venues under contract to Ticketmaster: same thing) along the lines of monopoly or antitrust issues. Talk to the lawyers in the family if you need actual legal jargon. The gist was that Ticketmaster and the contracted venues didn’t allow artists to set prices and / or service fee details. Basically, just about every venue of size in America was under Ticketmaster contract so if an artist wanted to play that venue they had to essentially agree to Ticketmaster rules. The options for any band back then, if not playing within the established contracted circuit, were limited to places like the Cheyenne RodeoPlex. Pearl Jam, in the final judgement, didn’t win its lawsuit. I remember how music fans reacted to the entire string of events: very supportive of the band at first, but not overly concerned that they lost; the band almost became a joke of sorts. Why? Well, Pearl Jam was then standing on top of the World – the biggest draw, the most sales, the king of kings. I think everyone figured that it cost the band nothing to step forward and complain because they’d just go home to Seattle when it was over and still be ridiculously wealthy. It seems quaint now, doesn’t it? But don’t we want the artists with the muscle to flex it on behalf of the fans and smaller artists? All Pearl Jam was trying to do was keep ticket prices below $20 and service fees under $1.80 per ticket. Now, I’m not going to wander off and find a calculator to sort out the inflation index and the difference between the $20/$1.80 situation of 1994 and what would no doubt now be a $125 ticket with a $20 service fee. I think Pearl Jam probably attacked the system from the wrong legal angle – and no doubt lost on those legal grounds – but they were so far ahead in seeing what was happening to the live music industry that it’s frightening. It’s doesn’t matter much to me that in 2009 most big-time artists make almost all their money from touring; that’s not an excuse for overcharging, service fees, and artist-sanctioned scaplers. I guess if I’m going to pay $100 for a Springsteen ticket then so be it; but, I’m not cool with paying an additional $20 for ‘service fees’. Even if I had walked down to the Verizon Center to buy my ticket I would still have been responsible for that extra $20 for Ticketmaster. And for what? My time? My money? Now we find out that Ticketmaster is pushing fans off to a ticket black marketer that they own and where they scalp tickets – are we really surprised? Nope. In fact, the idea that the ticket market for any big show is open to all is a joke. One of my hockey ticket connections – an agent of sorts – told me a few weeks back, before the Springsteen tickets went on sale, that she had here order in and would be picking them up Monday morning (I think the pick up was actually from the venue.) Needless to say, they were immediately resold for a 250% profit. And now onto Mr. Springsteen…

First, he contracted to sell his new album only through Wal-Mart. For that, he gets a big piss off from me. He’s tried to back off now and admit that it was a mistake – but primarily because someone pointed out that their labor practices are for junk – and he, as spokesman for the people, shouldn’t support Wal-Mart; true enough. But more importantly, he shouldn’t be cutting out local records shops and dealers. Lord knows, his success has never been based on local fans and businesses. Now he’s caught up in this Ticketmaster scam because he – and other big names – didn’t step up way back in 1994 and take a stand against the behemoth. He can try to backtrack now and say that he had no idea such nefarious activities were occurring, but who’d believe it? He is just as responsible for creating and releasing the monster as anyone, and feigning shock and surprise is embarrassing. As if Ticketmaster isn’t a drain on music fans’ lives; merging with the equally monopolistic Live Nation would truly be disastrous. Live Nation has almost completely taken over ownership of most live venues and combining that with the mega ticket distribution specialist will only increase fees. It’s hard for me to be critical of artists charging a free market price for their wares; it’s not hard to complain about fees that are nothing more than free money to a third party. Apparently, free money that is then used to pawn off overcharged tickets from the same vender and ‘surprised’ artist. And, if I might say, charging people $125 for a ticket takes entertainment spending dollars out of the pockets of folks who might actually use some of that money to see a show at Iota, Jammin’ Java, or the Black Cat; venues that are the lifeblood struggling musicians.

I rest.

p.s. If you must know, my first concert ticket (Kiss/Uriah Heep, 1976) cost $5.50. We were shocked - SHOCKED - when prices skyrocketed to $6.50 for my next show (Steve Miller Ban, 1977).

i can't believe that you need my love so bad....

I'm not sure what triggered the rock n' roll tonight but I was watching the very first Huey Lewis and the News hit (Do You Believe in Love) and then started to wander a bit. Feel free to depart the blog at this point if you must; there's nothing deep going on here. I did a bit on Guns n' Roses a few months back so I decided to pull up a well-recorded version (BBC, no doubt) of Knockin' on Heaven's Door from the 1992 Freddie Mercury Tribute Concert. This was not long before they returned to Wembley the weekend before Use Your Illusion (I and II) was released. You get some Axl, some Slash, some Dylan. I owned this on CD single, if you can believe or imagine something that crazy.



There's no reason why the next step should be to this song aside from the fact that I think it's in the great hall of fame: The guitar, drum, bass, and Rob Halford trying to kick your ass by singing, is first ballot stuff. I'll admit that I know next to nothing about the great metal bands but I first heard this diddy when my friend's band (Doc Friday) added to their live set and practiced it often. My friend Buzz, of playing the saw and cutting hair fame, ripped some guitar on this baby. Maybe since Buzz was in town last night it triggered this strange memory. This cut of Green Manalishi is from the 1985 Live Aid concert session in Philly. Get out the headphones and turn it up to 11...



t

how it crumbles

Ah, ethics. Now we’re talking some spirited discussion.

After reading this my very first impression was that I hate when parents sell kids’ junk at work. I hate it; I’ve cleared the air.

The next thought that crossed my mind, uninvited, was what would I do if I had a kid that needed to sell a pile of stuff for an organization? I’ll assume that they like the group, enjoy being a member, and want to do well at whatever activities are on the agenda. My first inclination would be to walk door-to-door with them in our neighborhood while they did the knocking and selling. It seems like parents are pretty willing to escort their children out-and-about on Halloween if they feel the need for safety or supervision, right? Why not one long evening of going door-to-door selling something for a troop and showing your child how to interact with people? After a first evening of selling I’d imagine the kids would be more comfortable, and willing, to strike out on their own during the day over a weekend. How about doing it in pairs? Or threes? What I have a hard time marrying up is the time invested in a Halloween escort tour that essentially involves getting free candy, and the unrealized cookie-selling escort tour that raises money for a troop. If anything, the lessons learned through sales – per the Scouts – should be far more important than the bag of junky Halloween candy parents spend their time supporting. Maybe committing another night or two a year to working on sales with your scout should be added to the calendar. As I’ve been typing this doctoral thesis or sort, I’ve realized that I wouldn’t have a second option in my cookie sale bag when my child came looking for help. If I were to push it I’d say that selling to my friends might be all right but nothing beyond that circle interests me. The rub is this: if an organization needs to raise money to support itself then it should do it in a more straightforward manner. If cookies need to be sold then ask parents if they will sell cookies; don’t pretend the kids are doing the work and reward them with sales gifts if there’s no way to equalize the process. I’d probably be more inclined to donate money to my child’s troop then I would be to sell “their” goods at work under the auspices that they are doing the selling while the troops look the other way and hand out awards. I think the best solution I’ve seen is to have the troops work tables at places like grocery stores: events where they are putting in the time and effort to sell while still fulfilling the safety requirement demanded by parents. Or, simply take all cookie sales on-line, distribute the orders troops, and they pass them to the scouts to deliver in their neighborhoods. Wouldn’t the cost be the same?

Then again, I could do without Girl Scout Cookies – I don’t find any emotional attachment to the culture of cookies.

As a final thought, the parent complaining about the eight million things her daughter needs to do should probably back off and let the kid be a kid. “Okay, little Jimmy. You’ve got to get to your nuclear fusion club early tonight and work hard. The moment you are done I need you to run out to the Hummer because I’ve got to get you to your LSAT review course. What? Yes, I know you’re only thirteen but you’ll need to prepare long and hard for that entrance exam. I’m not going to support you forever.”

t

I want my two dollars!

Here’s the opening of the article at CNN:

(CNN) -- On Monday, Congressional Republican leaders put out a list of what they call wasteful provisions in the Senate version of the nearly $900 billion stimulus bill that is being debated:

The Senate is currently debating the nearly $900 billion economic stimulus bill.

Here is the list of wasteful provisions they came up with in the release. I’ve added my earth-shattering remarks after each.

$2 billion earmark to re-start FutureGen, a near-zero emissions coal power plant in Illinois that the Department of Energy defunded last year because it said the project was inefficient.

- Oh, earmark! There’s a catchphrase. I’d like to see a review of the Bush administration’s DoE report. I will say that this is based purely on my hatred of Bush, I won’t lie. In my defense, haven’t the conservatives been pushing the idea of “clean coal”? Suddenly, any hope of making coal clean(er) is mockable?

$246 million tax break for Hollywood movie producers to buy motion picture film.

- What is this? I think this little nugget simply mists our vision (along with the earmark comment above) before reading the rest of the list. Once you read this you immediately thing “What the hell is going on.” I would imagine that this $246m is questionable at best.

$650 million for the digital television converter box coupon program.

- Shoot, I don’t know who came up with the converter box program but it’s there and it’s not going away. When you suddenly get millions of American homes with no TV in a few weeks you are going to have a riot on your hands. That doesn’t mean I think it belongs in the package, I’m just donning my riot gear.

$88 million for the Coast Guard to design a new polar icebreaker (arctic ship).

- I don’t know if this icebreaker (the “artic ship” wasn’t needed to clarify) will be used for scientific research but I’m guessing it has some value in that area. I wouldn’t call it wasteful.

$448 million for constructing the Department of Homeland Security headquarters.

- Is this one of those “shovel ready” projects? If so, it’ll certainly boost the economy in the D.C. area (I think it’s planned for SE) and provide jobs, right? Based on what I’ve heard from just about every economist on the spectrum, it is the jobs and unemployment that need to be solidified before anything else turns around. Now, we may not need a new HQ and that would certainly be an issue.

$248 million for furniture at the new Homeland Security headquarters.

- Hmm. Let’s call this wasteful spending. I think that if your furniture costs more than half the price tag of your new building then you’re doing something wrong. Imagine building a million-dollar home and then spending $600K on furniture.

$600 million to buy hybrid vehicles for federal employees.

- They make this sound like we are buying 30,000 Priui and handing them out to employees. Opa! How about it probably being a buying program for fleet vehicles for federal employees? Again, spending and responsibility….I hate that!

$400 million for the Centers for Disease Control to screen and prevent STD's.

- Fuck health. Sorry. I think every penny we spend on preventive healthcare comes back tenfold in the end. I think my father might have better numbers on that…and I apologize for the profanity.

$1.4 billion for rural waste disposal programs.

- Fuck waste. Oops. Okay, I’m pretty sure we need waste disposal, right? Once again we are in the spending area where it provides jobs and economic lift.

$125 million for the Washington sewer system.

- Well, the federal government is responsible for a good bit of the D.C. funding, it being a federal city and all. And, if you don’t know, there must be at least a dozen water main or sewer bursts in D.C. every week in the winter. Employment? Spending? I’m cool with it.

$150 million for Smithsonian museum facilities.

- Tourism. Tourism. Tourism. Let me put it this way: isn’t tourism one of the huge economic boosts for just about any major city, and by default, the economy. Secondly, if you’ve been to D.C. and enjoyed the Smithsonian, gratis, then think about coming here with the family of five and paying $10 for every Smithsonian building you want to see. Before you know it, you’ll be into museum costs to the tune of about $600 for the week. Don’t worry, you can eat Ramen in your hotel room.

$1 billion for the 2010 Census, which has a projected cost overrun of $3 billion.

- Doesn’t the taking of the Census employ loads of people? We’ll have none of that! Doesn’t the Census affect elections and voting districts? Isn’t it important?

$75 million for "smoking cessation activities."

- See healthcare above.

$200 million for public computer centers at community colleges.

- And the problem here is what? Education? Learning? Kids and adults trying to better themselves and enhance the economy and our standing in the world? Shenanigans!

$75 million for salaries of employees at the FBI.

- They make this sound like it’s merely a raise for everyone there. That’s not it, right? Are we hiring more people in law enforcement? That’s crazy.

$25 million for tribal alcohol and substance abuse reduction.

- Beating a drum.

$500 million for flood reduction projects on the Mississippi River.

- I have two things to say here and they are both pretty straightforward: JOBS and KATRINA.

$10 million to inspect canals in urban areas.

- I’ll go along with more jobs here. I’m guessing there are plans on the books to catch up on infrastructure projects that have been put on hold.

$6 billion to turn federal buildings into "green" buildings.

- I think the Republicans thought this meant green paint. With the quote marks it really does seem sneaky: do they mean non-green buildings? Liberals. I think the work involved would be an economic boon and the feds really need to get buildings upgraded.

$500 million for state and local fire stations.

- Let the fuckers burn. And screw the police, too.

$650 million for wildland fire management on forest service lands.

- This is in here simply because they are Republicans. They couldn’t allow this to stand.

$1.2 billion for "youth activities," including youth summer job programs.

- I’ll again defer to my father’s opinion from my youth. He felt that kids should have work opportunities in the summers. Let me ask you this; if we were to put $500 million in the pockets of youth through a summer jobs program, do you think they would spend it? On what? They can’t be serious with this objection.

$88 million for renovating the headquarters of the Public Health Service.

- Again, I know the feds need some remodeling but some of the plans may need to be put on hold, especially when it comes to new buildings.

$412 million for CDC buildings and property.

- Disease has been eradicated. Get rid of the CDC!

$500 million for building and repairing National Institutes of Health facilities in Bethesda, Maryland.

- See above. (I have a good friend who’s a chemist at NIH and I know her lab is a piece of junk.)

$160 million for "paid volunteers" at the Corporation for National and Community Service.

- Well, anyone involved in community service or as a community organizer clearly has no future.

$5.5 million for "energy efficiency initiatives" at the Department of Veterans Affairs National Cemetery Administration.

- More energy efficiency. Can we get off this? Drill, baby, drill.

$850 million for Amtrak.

- The only thing I’ll say here is public transport. If you don’t live on in the Northeast or along the seaboard you don’t know how important Amtrak is for reducing traffic. Having said that, isn’t Amtrak one of the worst run organizations in the country? Or am I making that up?

$100 million for reducing the hazard of lead-based paint.

- Lead is a problem?

$75 million to construct a "security training" facility for State Department Security officers when they can be trained at existing facilities of other agencies.

- I’ll take their word that there are other facilities for the training…with this caveat: since the conservatives have been hell bent on scaring the living shit out of everyone for the last eight years isn’t this a bit rich?

$110 million to the Farm Service Agency to upgrade computer systems.

- I don’t know anything about this. Nor do I have anything witty to say.

$200 million in funding for the lease of alternative energy vehicles for use on military installations.

- I know the military and they need some energy efficiency.

I think I’d probably question and/or remove about 5 or 6 billion of these “wasteful initiatives”. My calculator runs that out to two-thirds of one percent of the proposed $900 billion. Is the package perfect? Nope. Is it worth bickering over what would amount to about $23 of my monthly take home pay? Nope. But once you open up with words like earmark and Hollywood, you're golden. Hollywood, gay liberals!

If they want to simply pose and blow smoke up our skirts then they've done a fine job. But don’t pretend that all this evil stuff is being thrust upon us. Do you see any repairs being done to Ted Stevens' house, nope. You know what? I don’t want any stimulus package that is spending nearly a trillion dollars of taxpayer money. But aren't these the same politicos that voted for, and released, $350 billion of the first package and have nothing to show for it?

That barn door needs closing.

expedition

Let’s play a little multiple-choice Jeopardy. Here are the possible answers:

A. H
B. G
C. X
D. Kt

Here’s the question, ready your buzzers: When asked why they didn’t sleep soundly on Friday night the response was this: “It must have been the three Jameson’s I had at the strip club.” Good luck.

Our weather here has come out of the freezer yet I see the 40s and 50s forecasted for today might turn to snow showers over the next two nights/mornings. Why I’m telling you this, or why you might be interested in it, is beyond me. If you really wanted to know what the weather is like in northern Virginia you’d probably look it up for yourself on the newfangled internet. The real reason behind my forecast is to pass along a tidbit learned about life on the Hilltop. Our front yard – and by default, the driveway parallel to it – is very steep. I think I paced it off a few months ago because I want to get some degree of climb so I could call Car Talk to find out if going up the driveway really used a lot of gas. (I never called, just so you know.) For the engineers out there I think the length of the climbing portion of the driveway is about 30-40 feet and the footage of gained altitude is probably close to 15-18 feet. Is that possible? Let me know. What we’ve learned is that if there is any indication of snow in the forecast then we need to park in the street well in advance of the dusting. Even with just the first flurries last Tuesday morning, Galactica decided it was easiest to just slide its 3,600 pounds right down the to the street. That’s not a great feeling when just across the street from the foot of the drive sits two or three pick-up trucks working construction at the newly built house of our neighbors. Needless to say, you won’t be driving back up the drive anytime soon. The secondary issue became the Tuesday night/Wednesday morning ice storm that followed, and it was a good one. Even with the grand decision to park in the street it became clear that not shoveling the steps (as if you would in Virginia…) before the ice storm was a mistake. The steps became a deathtrap, walking on the grass/yard that is just as steep as the driveway and covered in snow ice wasn’t an option, nor was attempting to walk up the drive a smart choice. I needed a spelunking set-up and Sherpas to get to or from the front door. The little man in the house took one look outside and decided the best way down to the street was to run from the top of the drive and slide down, while standing up, to the bottom and tumbling into the street over and over again. Ah, youth. X eventually took all the ashes from the fireplace and scattered them about the steps after two days of misery. Suddenly, as if by novelty, the ice melted and traction was restored.

Plans are taking shape for the summer and it looks like L. will be here for a month and we’ll all spend a week up on Lake Memphremagog up in Quebec. After that she’ll be back to the Plains of Nebraska and her first year of high school.

p.s. On Sunday afternoon I witnessed my first Alexander Ovechkin hat trick. It was a blast.