Weird du Jour

When it comes to the GOP, Rand Paul has become the voice of reason:

“Part of Republicans’ problems—and frankly, to tell you the truth, some in the evangelical Christian movement—I think [they] have appeared too eager for war. When people come to me and they’re lobbying for ratcheting up some sort of bellicose policy towards one country, even if it’s a bad country, I tell them that and when I read the New Testament, that when I read about Jesus, I don’t see him involved, he wasn’t really involved with the wars of his days.  And, in fact, people rebuked him for not being [what] they wanted. They wanted somebody to stand up to the Romans. He stood up in a different sort of way, but he didn’t organize coalitions and guerrilla bands and arm them. Now I’m not saying that you shouldn’t have people who want to defend against evil, bad forces around the world, but I think you need to remember that he was the prince of peace, you know, we’re talking about ‘blessed are the peacemakers,’ not ‘blessed are the war-makers,’”

Can Joe Biden Step In and Fix This Please?

The current Miss Delaware will not only lose her title, but the scholarship that comes with it because she turns 25 before the end of the year. The rules say that the According to its website, Miss America pageant rules require contestants to be between the ages of 17 and 24.

1.     How the fuck was this not caught when the reviewed her application?
2.     Wouldn’t the word “contestant” being the rule mean the girls would have to be in that age range at the time of the contestant, and that’s it?
3.     Why the fuck are 17 year-old girls allowed to compete?

This whole thing is full of shit, taking away her scholarship in particular.

Don't Put Me In, Coach

Chicago Cubs centerfielder Denard Span lost a ball in the fog at Wrigley last night.

There are few things in life that are worse than standing alone in the outfield, your hands raised helplessly because you can't see the fly ball you're supposed to be catching.

Sigh. Been there, buddy. Well, except for the fog:

My first ever varsity game, I started in center field...looking back I don't know why I would've been in center instead of left....maybe our regular cf got raped by a bear on the way to the game? Mmmmmm....sexy....ANYways, like I said, I'm blind as a bat which, along with the dim lighting as dusk set in and a ball covered in dirt and colored a perfectly dull beige, meant that I couldn't see the ball off the bat. Which is not a great thing when you're, you know...playing baseball. Or, to be honest, walking or standing anywhere near the ballfield. I could usually pick it up a second later, along with seeing where everybody else was looking at. I know, real Willie Mays stuff. - fucking baseball, and I gotta be Sherlock fucking Holmes out there. THANKS cones and rods! Anyway, it's late in the game - dusk at it's worst, and I can barely see the batter from center field, much less a goddam ball going 150mph off a bat. All of a sudden I hear a PING!! (aluminum bats, people) and this goes through my head:

"well, THAT was fucking crushed...okay, where's it going...what's everybody looking at.........why's everybody looking at me?" and then THOOOOMP!!!.....I hear the ball land like a fucking meteorite about 3 feet to my right. Ohoh.

Let me tell you people something: it's a looooooooooooooong walk to the dugout from 350 feet away. In the middle of an inning. As your replacement is spryly skipping past you. It's easy to be embarrassed as a 15 year old, so you can imagine how awesome this felt in front of a full set of bleachers. My coach said I wasn't going in again until I got glasses, which I did by the next game.

State du Moi

Could do without all the catcalls from the ladies, but wearing shorts in the office feels pretty good.

Are The Clash the Greatest Live band of All Time?

Yes.

Holding Out

One day, this will be a massive hit. I promise.

Questions. I Have Them.

Has anyone ever seen the singer from OK GO and Jim from The Office in the same room together? Probably not because they are obviously the same person.

Speaking of Kindergarten...

...an old Xmastime classic from my memoirs:

I remember my first day of kindergarten fairly vividly. I had turned five years old two months earlier and knew that if I wanted to have my Die Hard script taken seriously I would have to go through the rituals of school. My first memory is getting yelled at for pulling my pants all the way down to my ankles when I pissed. I have no idea why I did this, but that’s how I pissed back then. What the hell did I know? Hey what am I, a goddam doctor? I was standing at the john pissing, Toughskins at my ankles, when a teacher walked in and yelled at me for my pissing modus operandi. It’s very comforting to know that back then a teacher could walk in on a five year old whose pants were down at his ankles and stand there having a conversation with him...My class was the last one in my county to only go to kindergarten for a half-day…I’d watch the 700 Club, Happy Days and then head outside to catch the bus. I am not making the 700 Club part up, by the way. I guess I felt a comfort in knowing that as long as people kept sending enough money in, God would be good to us all. Of course, I also seemed to believe that a guy could snap his fingers and beautiful women would come runing, so maybe I was a fucking idiot. Now, I don’t know why they decided to go full-day the next year but, ironically, my graduating class went on to be labeled as the smartest class in the history of our high school. Lesson learnt: never do a full job when half of one will do...Also, two school buses carried us to class each afternoon. Bus 7 had about 60 kids and Bus 48, my bus, had 8. I don’t know who the wizard was behind that, but it suited me just fine. I think I was the only white kid on Bus 48, on which we had characters such as Fat Melvin, who introduced us all to the “Boy-Boob.” Joe, who would be famous for dropping dead cutting grass at St. Margaret’s a few years later. And of course Tony, Joe’s friend. All we did during the entire ride was point out different cars on the road and claim them as our own. “Mine.” “That one’s mine.” “Mine.” This actually came in handy our first trip to Porky’s, interestingly enough. It was also on Bus 48 that I made my first friend, Mark Braxton (details here.)

I could already read before I got to kindergarten, which blew since about 97% of the entire year was spent learning the letters of the alphabet, courtesy of inflatable letters such as “Mr. T the Toothbrush!” and Mr. A the Apple!” I was gonna use a “Mrs. Q the Queef!” joke here, but I don’t wanna ruin these memoirs for the pre-teen crowd. (Side note to my college girlfriend: yes, I heard it. And yes, that’s why we broke up.) Also, I’ve noticed that the literacy rate among children has dropped 20% over the last 25 years, so there has to be something said for teaching by way of little blow up dolls, right? Lord knows I do my part to keep "learning."

The other thing I remember about kindergarten was how we were fed. We didn’t have “normal” lunches; every day at lunchtime we’d sit down and one of the teachers would haul out a big hefty bag. “Ohhhh, what do we have today??!!” she’d coo, with all of us hanging onto our seats. She’d open it up and Oooooohhh!! Peanut butter crackers! Or rolls. Whatever if was, it was a Hefty bag filled with one thing. Very strange. Not especially flattering either, throwing food at us like we’re little pigeons. Though actually I guess we’d be big for pigeons. Huge, literate (some of us) pigeons blinging out knit shirts with sailboats. Mmmmmmm. Would been great if one day she reached into the bag and pulled out a live rabbit. "Get the boning knife, we're eating meat today!"

Brothers and Sisters

One of my earliest memories of kindergarten is the teachers putting this record on. (Skip to 2:30 for the actual song, the rest is mushy gobbledygook)(although Marlo Thomas has always been a slice.)

One Reason to Truly Love the World Cup

Ooooooooooooh, yeah!!!

Tales of a 36th Grade Nothing

Judy Blume, surely 173 years old now, has written a new novel for adults.

I will now list the Judy Blume books I read:

Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing
Otherwise Known as Sheila the Great
Superfudge
Iggie's House
Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret.
Then Again, Maybe I Won't
Freckle Juice
It's Not the End of the World
Deenie
Blubber
Forever (kinda more as a class project in 7th grade, really)

SIDE NOTE: I get really depressed when I can't find a book with the exact cover as the one I read in my childhood - it just took me 15 minutes to find the one I've used here. Meanwhile, each book had about 50 different covers. Why? I can understand a few updates, but so many?

Oh For Fuck's Sake

Can people knock off this stupid “soccer’s gonna get huge in America!” crap that happens every 4 years? There’s a difference between people genuinely becoming interested in soccer, and people who see it as a big event to be enjoyed and then immediately forgotten it the second it’s over. More than any other one, I've enjoyed this year's World Cup. People around me are buzzed about it, a few actually follow soccer, and watching the game and drinking a coupla beers with them is great. But the second it's over, the odds of my thinking about soccer for another second again are exactly 0, same as most people. Next Super Bowl party you're at, ask how many of the people watched a single game all year. Will be maybe 1/2, if that, and the NFL is HUGE.

Happy Derek Jeter is 40 Day

I never woulda thought of Mark Teixiera as someone who even tries to be funny, but he gives it a good try in his new interview show. His jv version of Chris Farley in the old SNL sketch get tired quickly, but Jeter's looks, I must say, are genuinely funny.

Longtime Xmastime Classixxx That Mentions Derek Jeter

How the Fuck Long HAS It Been Since I Had a Girlfriend? (A Haiku)

I have never gotten an email from a girlfriend. Or a text, or an IM.
I have never gotten a call from a girlfriend on her cell phone.
I have never had a girlfriend who had a computer.
I have never had a girlfriend who knew who won the 1996 presidential election.
Or knew if OJ did it.
I'v never had a girlfriend say "Never forget!" re: 9/11
Or known Alaska and Hawaii to be states.
Okay, ain't been THAT long.
I have never had a girlfriend who ordered pizza with cheese in the crust.
I have never had a girlfriend who has heard the name "Derek Jeter."
I have never been to a girlfriend's website, myspace page or been her Friendster.

I feel like an old man, frozen in time - like Mr. Burns saying "there's a NEW Mexico?!?!?!" Like I'll be startled next time I unwrap a lady in my boudoir "There's no hair! and what happened to the back of your drawers?!??!" Or like my grandmother, who upon walking in while we were watching "I Love Lucy" said "Desi Arnaz has a tv show?!" Wow.

And yes, I just combined my grandma, a brazillian and tongety-tong tongs. Voila!

DJ Xmastime Classixxx

From 9/9/09:

Derek Jeter just tied Lou Gehrig's career hits record for the Yankees. I wonder how many I've seen, watching games on tv. I'd be surprised if it was lower than 2,200, 2,300. As an A-Rod apologist I get (foolishly) frustrated by Jeter devotion, but when he retires I'm gonna cry my eyes out; my Yankee fandom has mirrored his career.

Jeter

"Jeter at short: Still got it."

DJ

THIS still surprises me:

CAREER BASE HITS:
George Brett  3,154
Tony Gwynn 3,141
Derek Jeter 3,077

Except during his march to 3,000 hits this season, nobody really spoke about Jeter as a numbers guy, other than 5 rings; to speak of Jeter was to speak of things like intangibles, winning, and leadership.  So it's pretty amazing that he's actually this close in hits to guys like George Brett and Tony Gwynn, who were both number-accumulating hitting MACHINES, and Jeter has a few more seasons left in him.  Here's how many hits Gwynn and Brett had at the end of the season they turned 37:

Brett:  2,707
Gwynn: 2,780

And here's Jeter, at 3,077 with about a dozen games to go. I cannot say I woulda guessed this in a hundred years.

23 Derek Jeter Moments

That will live forever in our hearts.

22. When Mariano Rivera’s retirement this year reminded you that him pitching to Jeter on Old Timer’s Day in seven years will make you cry like a baby. You have a lump in your throat.

I mean, he got to hang out with George Costanza for crissake!!

Happy 40th Birthday Derek Jeter OHMYGOD DEREK JETER'S FUCKING 40 YEARS OLD?!?!!?!

Here's a compendium of how he ranks among shortstops. Pretty surprising how well he does, tho some may be to longevity.

More impressive of course is his list of lady friends, of which this is just a small sample. Cap doffed, El Capitano.

Republicans About to Start Tweeting "And was rooting against America!"

It's Okay to Like Paul McCartney, Dammit

I've defended McCartney in the stupid "Lennon vs. McCartney" debate many, many times on this blog, I won't even bother linking to them oh wait I guess I will HERE and HERE. And HERE. And countless others.

So it's nice to see someone else sticking up for Macca. He's a bit strong with the "Lennon sucks!" language, I get cranky when I hafta point out to people that McCartney was Lennon's equal (if not more) within The Beatles, but I also love Lennon at the same time.

Some favorite from the list:

3. He wrote what might be Lennon’s most iconic song introduction (the mellotron opening to ‘Strawberry Fields Forever’).

6. Sgt Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was McCartney’s idea. In fact, most everything the band did post-Epstein’s death in ’66 was driven by him. We have McCartney to thank for their entire post-66 catalogue.

10. McCartney recruited his friend George Harrison into the group. Lennon attempted to recruit Yoko Ono into the group. These recruitments had varying level of success.

13. He had the sense to excavate Let It Be from under the musical submersion of Phil Spector’s whitewashing string arrangements. Delivering his partner’s classic ‘Across the Universe’ in pristine acoustic glory.

15. Lennon’s quip in response to the question “Is Ringo Starr the best drummer in the world?” was “He’s not even the best drummer in The Beatles.” He was talking about Paul.

Ohoh

More Bruce New Yorker

In case you didn't get enough of David Remnick blathering on and on about Bruce The Boss Springsteen in his now-famous New Yorker article, here he is with Charlie Rose yammering. Interesting note re: the difference between a Bruce show and a Rolling Stones show: "tears don't come to your eyes at a Stones show."

Xmastime Confessions

As much as I've loved the soundtrack for about 25 years now, it's never occurred to me to actually watch the movie The Harder They Come.

Williamsburg Calling

Via FREEWILLIAMSBURG we see Theory of Achievement, a short film from 1991 that predicted Williamsburg:

"Look I know the neighborhood doesn’t look like much but plenty of people are moving out here to Brooklyn. Writers, painters, filmmakers, rock and roll musicians. It’s just a matter of time before this neighborhood becomes the art capital of the world. New York, Soho, that’s all in the past. I mean an art capital needs to be a place where people can afford to live. Who can afford to live in New York City? Look at Paris in the 20′s. Do you think Hemingway lived six room duplex on the Champs-Elysées? No. He lived in squalor. I mean, it’s just a matter of time before they start opening up cafes all along the BQE."

At 17 minutes, surprisingly watchable.

Yeah Yeah Yeah

It's quite possible we never would have heard of The Beatles were it not for George Harrison being funny:

When the audition was all over, Martin invited them up for a chat and listen in the control room. Martin gave them a long lecture on recording and what was what at Abbey Road. "We gave them a long lecture about their equipment and what would have to be done about it if they were to become recording artists," says Norman Smith. "They didn't say a word back, not a word, they didn't even nod their heads in agreement. When he finished, George said, 'Look, I've laid into you for quite a time, you haven't responded. Is there anything you don't like?' I remember they all looked at each other for a long while, shuffling their feet, then George Harrison took a long look at George and said, 'Yeah, I don't like your tie.' That cracked the ice for us and for the next 15- 20 minutes they were pure entertainment. When they left to go home George and I just sat there saying 'Phew! What to you think of that lot then?' I had tears running down my face. "  Martin was later to comment that it was their wit more than their music that sold him.

Great. Even This Fucker Has Seen More of the World Than me.

No Such Thing As Too Many Copies

Fare Thee Well Kitchen Nightmares

There is an almost perfect symmetry to Gordan Ramsay's two Kitchen Nightmares series in that there's not a single moment in any of the original British ones that I couldn't watch over and over until the end of time, and yet there's hardly a second of the American version that's watchable.  - XMASTIME

Gordon Ramsay has announced the end of Kitchen Nightmares, which I guess was still going on.

FULL DISCLOSURE: I have met him, so we're kinda BFF.

In 2014 it's hard to remember how incredible the original BBC version of the show was, having since been trampled by the shitty Americanized version:

Premiering in 2004, the U.K. Kitchen Nightmares provided an intimate, borderline meditative look inside businesses with a fighting chance of survival helmed by not entirely delusional owners. (The central quandary in the episode set at an upscale restaurant in Inverness is that the food is just too fancy.) The editing and sound are far less concussive than in their American counterparts, while Ramsay’s seismic eruptions feel more like natural phenomena; he achieves a fond rapport with many of his charges, even easing into the role of ad-hoc therapist.

And yes, I will remind you once again why the American version of the show suuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucks. You're welcome, Earth.

Every Single Episode of the American Version of KITCHEN NIGHTMARES

- Opens with fat, loud Italian guy braying to the camera about how amazing his food is. "The best there is!!" he says, beaming....

- ....seemingly oblivious to the fact that there is a camera crew filming him in preparation for a visit from Chef Ramsay, which you think would signal to him that his restaurant is in such shit that a television network deems that it's return to any level of success will be so incredible it's worth filming.

- Dude is thrilled Gordon's eating lunch, just KNOWS Gordon is gonna be floored by his food. Which, apparently, the entire town has been avoiding like the plague. Hmm.

- Some camera time with the staff, who all look scared to death/completely shaken. Usually dude's wife, who is waitress/bartender/hostess/line chef/sous chef/coat checker/valet/chicken plucker.

- Dude cannot BELIEVE Gordon thinks the food is shit. Spends a few minutes stomping around, yelling that Gordon doesn't know what he's talking about. Makes a brilliant case, fueled by about 7 or 8 "what the hell does he know?"s in a 30-second span.

- Gordon inspects kitchen, which is generally covered in a 3-inch layer of dog entrails and Bazooka Joe e-coli gum. Also at this time Gordon finds out there are no ovens - everything is either microwaved, or delivered from Papa John's down the street. And usually about 4 days in advance.

- Gordon observes a dinner service, where the kitchen instantly falls behind and the owner screams his head off. Just like in any restaurant where you're expected to pay $19 for a cheese stick, the customers can clearly hear the kitchen's obscenity-laced screaming while they patiently wait 3 1/2 hours for their entrees.

- Gordon strips the menu down from it's 2,593 items, explaining there's no such cuisine as Italian Lamb Greco-fusion.com - owner immediately balks at Gordon introducing a new menu. Again, he offers an air-tight case: "He thinks his food is better than mine? (dramatic pause.............) MINE?" It is comforting to know that if the restaurant DOES fail, law school will be a breeze.

- Service with Gordon's menu, which the owner inevitably fucks up by trying to cook it himself. The waitress/bartender/hostess/line chef/sous chef/coat checker/valet/chicken plucker/wife makes another appearance noting that their house is on the line. She has lost 11 pounds since the start of the show.

- More confrontation - Gordon says owner is a lazy bullshitter who won't accept responsibility for his failures, owner explodes "Me? ME? I don't accept responsibility? Yeah, well, I wish you had never shown up!! YOU don't accept responsibility!!" Storms out; probably to cool off outside, or invent debating.

- While owner's away, Gordon leads now-completely energized crew through a dinner service that nets about $66,000 and a standing ovation from the customers. By this time the owner has slunk back in, tries to blend back in, begrudgingly accepting the success of Gordon's menu. Peeps into dining room, asks "what are all these people doing here?"

- Cut to next morning, where overnight Gordon has dropped about $200,000 completely re-designing the whole restaurant; some cook gets emotional "we have a fryer that works!!!!" Picture of owner's ancestor who had "inspired me to learn how to let fish lay on a floor for three days before serving it in a clams casino-tini" appears on the wall. Waitress/bartender/hostess/line chef/sous chef/coat checker/valet/chicken plucker/wife has gotten her hair done.

- Owner accepts defeat, marvels that Gordon came in and "really turned things around" in the same tone American Idol staffers use to say Paula Abdul "seemed a bit distracted tonight."

RINSE LATHER REPEAT.

Not my proudest Google search of the day (so far).

Truth

Bruce Vilanch on writing jokes for The Oscars:

What does surprise me is when you get people who don’t do this kind of performing for a living and they go into a major panic and every single word has to be edited by everybody. By their hairdressers, their yoga instructor, their publicist, their pet psychiatrist. Everybody’s got an opinion. And all of those people who are supposedly helping are really enemies of comedy, because they don’t want anybody to get into trouble. You can’t be funny by saying, “I’m not going to get anybody into trouble.” You know, that’s the risk you run.

Where's the Flick?

Like most people I only knew Casanova to be a sort of euphemism for ladies man, like "Xmastime", but a quick perusal of his Wikipedia shows he led a pretty fascinating life. Can someone please make a movie about him so I can watch it please?

"Smell my finger? $11 please."

Duct Taping Kids to the Floor? Yes Please.

Apparently some Texas (of course) Day Care is in trouble for duct taping kids to their mats if they don't nap.  I also find this funny:

Almquist also told ABC that Decker had been complaining for weeks that her son was unable to sleep during nap time, and had requested that Almquist buy a weighted blanket to help keep him down.

What the fuck is this? I mean, I LITERALLY feel like there's no blanket in the world that is heavy enough to keep me down.

Sigh. America. What's happening? Whatever happened to the good 'ol days when neighbors could duct tape a little boy's mouth together without getting in trouble? This makes me sad. See:  :(

Thoughts. I Have Them.

My three favorite bands are The Ramones, The Beatles, and The Replacements. The first two are interesting in that each of the four members of the band were different, colorful personalities who also greatly added to the music of their bands. You could be a Joey guy, a Dee Dee guy, a John or Paul guy etc etc. The Replacements are different in that when it comes down to it, the entire band is Paul Westerberg's songs. Not that the other guys didn't have anything to do with anything, but I don't know anyone who's a Tommy guy or a Chris guy - the single reason we all loved them was because of Westerberg's songs.

Wrong!

Moi ICI:

4) Sometimes I wonder if I use things 100% wrong, the complete opposite of the way every other person does it. What if I stand in the shower wrong? For all I know everyone else stands sideways, or on one foot. Maybe the inventor of the toilet is looking down on me, horrified that I’m somehow not doing it correctly. Although I guess my college girlfriend would’ve told me; god knows she’d follow me in the can every time I had to release a small child. Wanna chat, have a big talk all of a sudden. “For fuck’s sake” I’d yell at her, “get out; I don’t even wanna be here for this!!!” Fucking hell.

Apparently, we've all been cutting birthday cakes wrong. Well, if you're the only one eating it, which is just fucking sad and means you've got bigger problems than being wrong in the cake-cutting department.

Questons. I Have Them.

Is Adam from Girls the most interesting tv character of the last few years?

 

The Juice is Loose 2014

SO...I set my self a goal of 3 days juicing, which of course I had no hopes of actually accomplishing. No one was more surprised than me when I sailed right by it and made it to 5 days. I say "made it" as if it was some sort of hardship. To be honest, it was 100x easier than I thought it'd be. I was never hungry, and I didn't panic and crave/dream about food like I thought I would. There was no magical euphoric feeling either, but I could tell a difference in how my body felt after only a few days. I felt lighter throughout the day, and it was a treat to not feel like I'd been hit with a tranquilizer dart after eating. People commented my skin looked better.

The hardest thing wasn't the not eating, it was the not drinking, particularly when people were going out to watch the World Cup. I broke my fast yesterday after work over some beer and hot dogs while watching France roll over some losers. I was gonna take the weekend off and then start juicing again Monday, but after having regular food today and feeling like crap I must say, I'm itching to start again. So I am. Mostly, I'm in shock that I actually did it.

I Can't Say For Sure, But...

...I think today is the first time I've opened windows in an apartment that's mine since 1997.

The Princess and the Dark Horse

Via HERE:

The member of the Royal family most associated with the Beatles is Princess Margaret, who John Lennon referred to in one of his book as Priceless Margarine. On July 6, 1964 the Princess and Lord Snowdon attended the premier of 'A Hard Day's Night' at the London Pavilion. After the premier there was a private party at the Dorchester Hotel and the Princess and Lord Snowdon dropped by with some friends. The Princess and her entourage seemed to be enjoying themselves when George Harrison approached Walter Shenson, the film's producer and said, "When are we  going to eat?" Shenson told him that they couldn't possibly eat until Princess Margaret and Lord Snowdon had left. "Just be patient," he said. After another 15 minutes had elapsed, George walked up to the Princess and said, "Your Highness, we really are hungry and we can't eat until you two go."

"I see," said the Princess. "Well, in that case, we'd better run."

"That's great...now can you get the fuck outta here so we can have some Popeyes already?"

Why victor Spinetti Was in A Hard Day's Night

Spinetti won a Tony award in 1965 for his Broadway performance in "Oh, What a Lovely War," but was most well-known for his appearances in the Beatles movies "A Hard Day's Night," ''Help," and "Magical Mystery Tour." 

At a London Beatles Day event in 2010, Spinetti said he was included in the cast of "A Hard Day's Night" at George Harrison's insistence. 

"He said, 'you gotta be in all our films otherwise me mum wouldn't come and see 'em, because she fancies you,'" Spinetti said. "That was why I was in." 

A HARD DAY'S NIGHT SONGS IN ORDER OF MY LIKING THEM:

You Can't Do That
Things We Said Today
I'll Cry Instead
If I Fell
I Should Have Known Better
I'll Be Back
A Hard Day's Night 
And I Love Her
Any Time At All
Can't Buy Me Love
When I Get Home
Tell Me Why
I'm Happy Just To Dance With You

More Hard Day's Night

(reposted from September 2009)

One thing that's always struck me is that in the opening seconds to A Hard Day's Night, George trips and falls when running down the sidewalk. If this happened today to any of our FABULOUS!!! pop stars, said fabulous pop star would shut down production for 6 weeks while they checked themselves into a hospital and worked up a nice little painkiller addiction, all while suing the ass off of the production company. But George (with Ringo on top of him) just bounces right back up, laughing and running. Camera never stops.

Looks like It's A Hard Day's Night Day

When it opened in September, 1964, "A Hard Day's Night" was a problematic entry in a disreputable form, the rock 'n' roll musical. The Beatles were already a publicity phenomenon (70 million viewers watched them on "The Ed Sullivan Show"), but they were not yet cultural icons. Many critics attended the movie and prepared to condescend, but the movie could not be dismissed: It was so joyous and original that even the early reviews acknowledged it as something special. After more than three decades, it has not aged and is not dated; it stands outside its time, its genre and even rock. It is one of the great life-affirming landmarks of the movies. - ROGER EBERT

Don't forget: to celebate its 50th anniversary the movie will be in theaters starting July 4!!!! :)

Almost 20 years ago (wow) when the Beatles Anthology came out, The Making Of A Hard Day's Night was in heavy rotation on PBS, and I must've watched it a zillion times. You can YouTube your way through it, starting here.

I Am Officially Calling Bullshit

On this "who wrote it?" Hard Day's Night quiz. I got them all right except And I Love Her which they Slate claims Lennon and McCartney wrote which is bullshit since it's totally a Paul song. Idiots.

A Plea

Will you people finally watch The Vicious Kind so we can talk about how awesome it is?

This Is a Relief

Back in 2011 I was worried about Jesse Camp:

Sometimes I worry that as a country we've forgotten about 1999 MTV Wanna Be a VJ winner Jessie Camp.  He was everything that's great about us as a people: tall, skinny, wildly incoherent, constantly baffled.  He was that best kind of homeless, down-on-his luck street trash white kid, ie he wasn't actually a homeless, down-on-his luck street kid but just paid a shitload of money to LOOK like he was.  As the Johnny Appleseed/Paul Revere of the Hipster, Jesse led the crusade to show others that while it's not cool to BE poor, it's cool to LOOK poor.  It is curious that while co-opting Jessie's "somebody just pulled me out of a toilet" look, today's hipsters insist on trying to sound like the smartest people in the room, therein eschewing Jessie's determination to sound like a non-functioning retard with no visible motor or language skills.

And here we are, 11 years later.  It's as if we've learned nothing from Mr. Camp and, worse, aren't interested in trying anymore. What the hell.  If you had told me in 1999 that one day this great Charlemagne of the Faux-Unwashed would be so forgotten so as to not even warrant a footnote on the history of pop culture, I would've been aghast, and said there's no way way in hell that would happen. Or, as Jessie would've said, "weeeeel, dweeze bit, dunno man, but i really like, well, dweeeeezi is!"

Anyway, they found him.

It's Official

The two greatest lines in music history are:

Chewin' out a rhythm on a bubblegum, the Sun is out & I want some

and

I got my motorcycle jacket but I'm walking all the time

The Best Song of the Last 10 Years

Let's Be Honest

I'll never top what I did in August 1995  :)

The Making of Sgt. Pepper

This is amazing: in particular, George Martin admitting they fucked up not including Strawberry Field Forever/Penny Lane on the album (which may have made it the greatest album ever.)

More Brian Wilson

Happy Birfay Brian Wilson!

I don't throw the word "genius" around lightly; it prolly, in my mind, attains to Mozart, McCartney, Jamerson and Brian Wilson, and that's it.

"What makes Pet Sounds that much more astonishing is that it is the work of one man, a half-deaf 23 year-old."

Bears & Humans

Everyone's blathering about the adorable Twitter feed Bears Acting Human.

Of course long-time fans will remember that long ago on the beginning days of Xmastime, my "Things Are Good" series always ended with a bear acting human. My favorite:

Well. This Sounds Like a Great Idea.

Will Dick Cheney Either Apologize for Ruining the Country or Please Shut the Fuck Up Already?

The chutzpah of Dick Cheney's op-ed is pretty incredible; almost to the point to which it's impossible to respond to because it's so absurd, like a pledge opening a can of soda in a lineup. At least Bush is shutting up and spending his days painting. Says this dude:

George W. Bush may well have been a disaster of a president (in a 2010 Siena College Research Institute survey, 238 presidential scholars ranked Bush among the five “worst ever” presidents in American history), but at least he has the dignity and grace — or shame and humility — to recede from public life with his family and his painting, and not chide and meddle with the current administration as it tries to right his wrong.

Bush's particular genius was he was so terrible it wasn't even worth the energy to care anymore:

Again, I really hafta give it to Bush - the sheer NUMBER of piles and messes he has left for his successor to work on is also THE REASON he cannot be held accountable for them. Amazing. Cap doffed! The comedian Sinbad (fuck you, I'll put his two early 90's specials up against most anything) once had a riff about having a 12am curfew, saying if you're gonna get the same whupping anyway, why get a 12:01am whupping? Screw that, make it worth your while - get a 5:30am whupping!!! Clinton got a 12:01 whupping - slipping quietly in, stepping on a creaky board just barely. No matter what he had accomplished before, no matter than in the grand scheme of things the blowjob didn't really matter, he still got a whuppin. Bush on the other hand is shooting himself out of a cannon through the front door, naked except for shaving cream and bull urine and waving a bottle of Old Crow around shouting out "wassssssup, motherfuckers!!!!!" while setting off firecrackers and eating the family dog. Whereas Clinton got a whuppin, Bush is getting the "it's late, just go to bed we'll talk about this in the morning" treatment. I secretly hope he knows this and tries to get away with what he can before January, just to see how far he can push it, just for kicks.

And then there's Cheney:

Mr. Cheney, meanwhile, is still trying to bend history toward an exoneration of his guilt and an expunging of his record. But history, on this, is stiff, and his record is written in blood.

It's as if his role model now is  OJ Simpson.

Speaking of The Bronx Zoo

Some nuggets from my trip there in July 2009:

My Life by the Numbers

I live with two guys whose collective age is 106. Today I spent 4 hours at the Bronx Zoo with seven people whose collective age is 13.

This Is What the Bronx Zoo is Teaching Your Children

"Oh look, here's a coupla gazelles, looking to hang out together and have some fun! Hi guys!!"


"No no, wait - they're fucking."

Zoo Food Nonsense

I have noting but great memories of the cafeterias at any and all of the zoos/aquariums I went to as a Manny so I must say I resent this review of the food at The Bronx Zoo:

My pizza had a Domino's feel and an assy taste. My tomato soup was worse. It tasted like it had been transported from a Manhattan Hale & Hearty by animals who couldn't keep their paws out of it and who took three years to complete their journey. It was kinda stale.

Hey, it's zoo food. Shut the fuck up and like it.

And yes that makes you eligible for an excerpt from my soon-be-self-published novel:
 
It was a rare treat whenever Luke and Jack’s mothers were free for the day; we’d take the boys to the Bronx Zoo, or Staten Island Museum, wherever - our favorite was the aquarium at Prospect Park because they had the best cafeteria, which we always made sure was our first (and longest) stop.  
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Ray Davies

Whats lost in the usual Beatles vs. Stones argument is the fact that The Kinks were a better band than the Stones anyway, so at what point can we start doing a Beatles vs. Kinks thing? - XMASTIME

On the eve of his 70th birthday, this guy HERE rightfully asks if Ray Davis is, in fact, the best:

The answer begins with my calling him the best, not the greatest. Musical greatness requires some form of dominance or gigantism, typically measured in lasting direct influence on other artists and a magnitude of personality and celebrity that makes bystanders pay attention along with true fans.

All the Kinks did, with Davies in command as frontman, predominant songwriter, producer and arranger, was create the warmest, funniest, most varied and keenly intelligent body of work in the rock canon.

He may or not be the best, but he's always been the most British.

Of Course

Enter the front lines of Frankenfood.

I'll be honest. I'd try the Slim-Jim and hot dog ones.

Dying

More Williamsburg Memories

The Greg & Anna Show, October 2011. Dying.

28 Years Ago Today

Len BIas died.

And his death is somehow my own JFK moment - I can still feel myself lolling on my bed that summer day, facing the wall on my left and reading Ball Four when the announcement came on the radio. No, he was no JFK, but JFK was no Frosty either. - XMASTME

Yes, I Am Better Than You.

I do not eat apples. I eat fancy apples. Oh I'm sorry, EXTRA fancy apples. 

Things I've Noticed.

I feel like anytime anyone ever talks about their dad walking out on their family when they were a kid, never to be seen again, it was always "to get a pack of smokes." It's pretty much never "to pick up the ingredients for a Canard à l'Orange featuring raspberry drizzle and in accordance with appellation d'origine contrôlée. Interesting.

Happy Birfday Garfield!

It's Hot! It's Hot! It's Hot in Here!

Great bit from The Sports Guy re: Lebron's unfortunate cramping in Game 1 of the NBA Finals:

It’s more funny than anything that LeBron’s kryptonite is unexpected heat; he’d make for the worst DC Comics character ever.
Just break the AC when he’s not expecting it! Turn it off!

Hey, it's not so crazy - that's what they tried to do to save Dona Martin, after all:

But then comes my favorite part: the cops' big plan is to sweat the guy out by turning off the air conditioning in the studio. What? How John McClain! And here we go, about 2 minutes later...everyone is soaked in sweat, the dude is starting to slur his words and move slowly, as if he's hallucinating. All from turning off the a/c. Are these people polar bears? I'm sorry, is this tv studio located on the sun? Oh that's right, they're in California. I guess they're just not used to warm weather.

Sad But True

When stereotypes die: apparently, Asian dicks aren't necessarily small, but may be wishful thinking on white mens' part:

Perhaps Westerners see in the Asian man — and by extension his penis — what they expect to see, what in some ways they need to see. Let’s be honest: many Western men derive enormous comfort and a good measure of delight in the myth of the small Asian penis. Racial Schadenfreude is why the myth endures, and why it will continue to do so. Too many non-Asian men get an immeasurable ego lift from it.

"But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP), “isn't this a good excuse to re-post an old Xmastime riff about Asian dicks?"

Sigh. Yes, people. Yes, it is.

All this flashed to me this morning on the train when I saw a young, pretty Asian girl sitting quietly next to her Asian man. It occurred to me the fascination society has always had for the size of the phallus - big ones having some sort of animal hold over women.

But then I thought about the stereotypes of each race's women in relationship to said race's stereotyped dick size. Black men supposedly have the biggest dicks, and yet black women are notorious for not being demure at all when it comes to their men. If I had a nickel for every time I watched a black woman screaming at her bf/husband about not taking any of his shit, I'd prolly have about $43.20 by now. Meanwhile Asian dudes supposedly have the little dicks, yet their women are notorious for being shy, shrinking and deferential towards them. Interesting.

Q. Am I A Math Genius? A. Yes I Am a Math Genius.

This happened a few years back:

Walking to the park for softball on Sunday, it occurred to me that with consecutive numbers, the square of the second is equal to the square of the first plus the sum of those consecutive numbers.

(A+1)2 = A2 + (A + (A+1))
eg: 7 squared = 6 squared (36) + (6+7) = 49

Then today somebody mentioned a frame being 9" x 16" and this occured to me:
(2 means "squared")

A2 x (A+1)2 = (A x A+1)2

9 x 16 = 144

(3 x 4)2 = 144

ergo

A x (A+1) = square root of A2 x (A+1)2

(Curtsy) 

Course, I'll never be as clever as these guys.

Seinfeld Comedians in Cars Review

The recent Comedians in Cars with Sarah Jessica Parker is by far my favorite episode since, unlike previous episodes, it wasn't just two rich guys talking about how much money they had. Jerry & Sarah Jessica just had a lot of fun cracking each other up, including Seinfeld marveling how much Parker reminded him of himself: "Now I see why I exhaust people."

Of course, there's also this. Sigh.

How could they possibly do this without Triumph the Insult Comedy Dog? Wtf?

Oh, HELL No!

I've been a tad nostalgic for Williamsburg this week, thanks to a visit from old friends.

Until now.

Day 4

I'm on Day 4 of my juice fast, which means of course i've rediscovered this little gem with Anna Z. You're welcome, Earth.

FOX News’ Top 10 Reasons Obama Finally Caught the Benghazi Suspect:

10. He’s annoyed at all the attention the World Cup is getting
9. Hillary’s book tour needs a boost
8. Worked up over Game of Thrones finale
7. Has been in Michelle’s doghouse, needed to impress
6. Wanted Redskins news to not be top story of the day
5. Teleprompter said it was November
4. So he’ll have a fellow Muslim playmate at the White House
3. Cause he’s just simply the worst. Ever.
2. Lost a bet in the Cantor/Brat election
1. He didn’t, George Bush did.

Happy Birfday Paul McCartney!

Who on his 21st birthday in 1965 incredibly recorded the classic Yesterday, the almost-out-doing-Little-Richard-at-Little-Richard's game I'm Down and the early country rock I've Just Seen a Face (whose "li'li'li'li'li'li" predates Paul Simon's The Boxer by 5 years.) Fucking incredible.

007, Jr.

Kids are great bullshit detectors:

Studies have already shown that kids work as incredibly precise detectors of straight-up lies. Outside the realm of bold-faced falsehoods, though, children perform quite brilliantly, too.

Subtler and more elegant deceit—the kind where the truth is told but other important elements are shaded or concealed—doesn’t go unnoticed by six-year-olds either, according to a new study published in Cognition. Unbeknownst to their teachers and parents, young kids are apparently equipped with the perceptive powers of seasoned Cold War spies. The new paper suggests that they don’t appreciate when they’re being misled with lies of omission and even adjust their behavior based on a previous record of deceit.

Of course know this is correct thanks to an excerpt from my soon-be-self-published novel:

“My kid tries to eat the plastic outlet covers all over the house,” a guy with the world's dumbest beard said as he put his beer on our table.

“Never fails, right?”  I nodded my head along with everyone else’s.  “Kids can find the rusty, e-bolic needle in the plush cottony haystack.  These motherfuckers should work for the FBI - put 'em in a room full of people and they’ll instantly crawl onto the lap of the one who happens to be the world's most wanted terrorist: ‘Over here, jackass.’”

Tony Gwynn

A former Padres bat boy gives a behind-the-scenes look at the clubhouse Tony Gwynn once ruled, and in a surprise to exactly nobody he was amazing:

When kids have heroes, they tend to build them up into something unsustainable, something doomed to crumble, and years later, as adults, they look back on the their old enthusiasms with gentle condescension. On Monday, I turned on my computer and the words "Hall of Famer Tony Gwynn dies at 54" hit me square in the chest. I lost my breath for a minute. In that instant, dozens, hundreds of memories of Tony flashed through my mind. And each one remains good, clean, and perfect in its own way. 

Here's one: I'm 12 or 13, hanging out near the player's parking lot after the game, waiting for autographs. Tony was the big "get," and I sat there for a good three hours after the game. Suddenly, he appeared. He looked so normal, wearing jeans and a polo shirt. He walked over to his truck, a 4x4 with PADRE19 as the license plate. "Tony! Tony!" I and a few other die-hards shouted. He walked over cheerfully and signed stuff we could fit through the fence. He signed my baseball card and handed it back to me. "Tony," I said. "Thank you." He looked right back at me: "You're welcome." That killed me. It still kills me. It was the simplest gesture; it was the kindest.

There They Go Again.

OK GO does it again with another great video AND song.

Previous OK GO love HERE.

Zingaaaaaaaaah!

Mukluks: Sully

Happy Bloomsday, Nerds

I re-read Dubliners every every time I see the year's first snowflake (Araby in particular still gets me misty and blubbering), and as you  couldn't give less of a shit about  remember from reading about the pandybat incident I've read Portrait of the Artist as Young Man several times and prolly will again, but Ulysses is another matter altogether.  Like Finnegan's Wake I've never even bothered trying to understand it when reading, but from time to time I pick it up and flip to a random page to read just for that smooth rhythm of Joyce's.  I can think of no other author for whom I do such a thing.  I don't know what the hell's going on and I don't give a shit; it's like loving a song when you don't really know or care what the words mean.

Speaking of which, is A Walk with Xmastime as a Young Buck still the greatest post ever?

The 50 States of America if They Were High School Kids

THIS IS AWESOME.

Might be my fave:

And bonus!

Tony Gwynn

Via HERE:

What Gwynn is describing here is what it's like to be a physical genius, to know by feel the difference between reacting at 9/30ths of a second and 10/30ths of a second. It's easy to look at all of those batting titles, or his incredible averages against some of the most cerebral pitchers of his time—.444 against John Smoltz, .415 against Greg Maddux, .390 against Curt Schilling, .333 against Pedro Martinez, .303 against Tom Glavine—and assume that he was just outthinking them at the plate. (Unbelievable fact: in 366 plate appearances against those five, he struck out five times. Five.) 

FIVE?!!! Wtf?!

Pleased To Meet John McEnroe

Apparently Pleased to Meet Me came out 24 years ago today.  I bought it a few weeks after that; I can still picture riding in Brothatime!!'s Shitvette to Doc's and finding the cassette among the unalphabetized stacks (thanks, Doc.)

Mostly, I remember how I got the $crillah to buy it.  The summer after 9th grade I got a job cutting the grass at the DMV, which was a TINY square of grass that took maybe 15 minutes to cut.  I got $10 to cut it every Saturday, and of course after about one Saturday the scorching heat completely killed the grass, so there was no reason to cut it.  But I'd still show up every week, go through the motions and then walk in to collect my ten fat ones (that's cash money, ladies; from Day 1 I demanded "folding money only, please.") The lady would always be a little confused, "gee, did it really need it this week?" to which I'd look like she was ridiculous "oh yeah, yeah it really did" and then take my ten bucks to invest in some little-known company at the time called "Google." - XMASTIME

Now this is a cool poster:

Welcome, Old Friend.*

The surprisingly good and the surprisingly not terrible for you KFC Double Down is back!

The Double Down features bacon, Monterey Jack cheese, and Colonel's sauce between two white meat Original Recipe filets (Of course, I tried it back in 2010 and offered my own tweaks).

With the launch, the chain declared, "Bread is dead." Never mind that they offer delectable biscuits and a few sandwich items.

The guy's "fix" is of course "put it in a biscuit."

*I've only actually had it the one time.

Kudos to Starbucks

The coffee "you cant order black, it's all frapaccino or vente et al gee, I don't understand grande at Starbucks" riff is our generation's "my parent's can't program the time on the VCR." Congratulations, we did it. Can we move on?  - XMASTIME

I have no idea if ASU's online program is worth a shit, but this is pretty cool of Starbucks:

Starbucks employees nationwide will be eligible for a free college education through Arizona State University's online program beginning this fall.

The new initiative, touted as the first of its kind, will allow many of Starbucks' 135,000 workers to graduate debt free from ASU with no requirement to repay or stay on with the company. The funding will come from a partnership between ASU and Starbucks.

Be ncie if other mega-corporations followed suit.

Ah, an Xmastime Starbucks memory:

Some woman who from what I can tell is about 334 years old just had some complete stranger behind me politely explain Twitter to her for about 15 minutes before exlaiming "oh, it's on a computer? Oh, I don't know computers!" Followed of course by "wondering" if Obama has joined forces with Putin to destory the United States. Finished up by saying she can't wait to see him get on a plane for  Chicago one last time, after which he will, and I quote, "never amount to anything."

Juicing. Day 1.

990 minutes down, 3390 to go.

Art. I Get It.

Having gone to the National Gallery yesterday, where I pretty much saw nothing but a huge cafe and gift shops at every turn, I now consider myself an art snob. Here's a video about how to visit an art museum (spoiler alert: you can't touch shit with your grubby mitts.)

Of course, it will never top my days at the Staten Island Children's Museum. 

Xmastime Classixxx: Williamsburg Edition

From 2010.

Where Have You Gone Corey the Bagger, Shoppers Turn Their Lonely Eyes to You

My stay in the line at Topps tonight was extended by (ironically, as you'll see) five minutes thanks to the bag boy being confused as to whether the cashier was saying "cinco" or "singles" when asking to exchange bills from his little tip cup. It was fucking mind-blowing.

CASHIER: Give me cinco please.
BUS BOY: How many?
Cinco! Five!
Here you go (tries to hand her a five $1 bills)
No poppy, cinco, cinco!
That is cinco!
No poppy, I need cinco, not single!
Are you saying "cinco", or "single"?
Cinco!
Here! (tries to hand her a single dollar bill)
Not a single, Poppy, cinco!
(tries to hand her back the five singles)

Now another cashier tries to help the kid:

SECOND CASHIER: she's saying cinco, poppy, five!
I tried to give her five!
Just one cinco poppy!
(he tries to hand her a single dollar bill)
No no, CINCO, five!
NOT a single?
No, no single, cinco!
Cinco?
Si!
Six singles?
Cinco!
(tries to hand her back the five singles)

The amazing thing about all this?  THE FUCKING BUS BOY SPOKE SPANISH! This isn't like ME trying to interact with the cashier, it's some local latino kid!!!!!!!!!

I don't even know how the fuck it ended; I think I blacked the fuck out. Unreal.

And you know this: there's no way Corey would've stood for that shit.

Rich Mothafuckerz in Williamsburg

Having friends down from NYC this weekend made me pine a little bit for Williamsburg.

Then I read this:

We could quibble, if you wanted, about when the sociocultural phenomenon known as "Williamsburg" "began" and when it "ended"; neighborhoods do have a tendency to "end" right around the time you can longer afford to live there, or perhaps a touch before then.

He noted a firm analysis finding that Williamsburg residents are now on average 25 to 35 years old with per capita income of $108,000 a year.

Whether the Williamsburg you know ended with Diner in 1998-1999 or Marlow & Sons in 2004 or the Wythe Hotel in 2012 (or whichever milestone you prefer!), the average human living in Williamsburg is now, officially, a rich person—and a young one, at that.

Not exactly my personal Williamsburg.

One thing that came back to me is man, I miss the fucking books on Bedford Avenue.

Plans. I Have Them.

One day I’m gonna read Doonesbury from start (10/26/72) to finish (?).