Of COURSE I'm Posting This

Actors and Their Bullshit

I've just about fucking had it with actors or musicians going on tv and blathering on and on about how unimpressed with their jobs their kids are, how "uncool" they see them.  Yes, I'm sure your kids wish you were the assistant manager at Kmart.  For fuck's sake, shut the fuck up - just once I'd like to see someone say "I'm a fucking movie star, you're goddam right my kids think I'm the coolest thing in the world." - XMASTIME

Aaaaaaaaand now we can add Ben Affleck to this list. Grrrr.

The Captain of New York City

Well, That's That

Weekend

#missedbigbearanddany

Tough One

Republicans must be having fits over Eric Holder's resignation; on one hand, if they don't confirm Obama's choice for a replacement, they're stuck with Eric Holder. On the other hand, confirming an Obama appointee will mean they hate America and freedom. Tough spot to be in. #chinesehandcuffs.

RIP White Castle

When I moved to New York City I had $7, which I immediately spent at White Castle. - XMASTIME

My beloved White Castle on Metropolitan Avenue is closed.

"But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP), “didn't you write about this White Castle a zillion times?"

Sigh. Yes, faithful readers. Yes I did. 

Mukluks: Op!
_________________________________________________________

I felt bad about having to pull Chuck from the playground, so we swung by White Castle.  It’s difficult to think of a worse place to bring a two year-old than one covered in bullet-proof glass and toxic grease, but I’d just watched a retarded guy drop his pants and was having an “I need a real career” crisis, so I felt like some goddam White Castle.  And God bless Chuck; after getting our order and sitting down at a table, he still wanted to talk about what I was going to do with the rest of my life.

“Rats!”

I gave him a cup filled with Goldfish and dug into one of my many, many cheeseburgers.

“That’s right, lil’ buddy.  Rats needs a job.  A career, even.  Everyone else I know has one.”

“More gofish, Rats!”

“You got it, lil’ buddy.”  I dumped another handful into his cup.  “I’m telling you, I should’ve latched onto some stupid corporate job the second I graduated college, right?  Some faceless, whatever corporation with six weeks paid vacation, free coffee and Super Bowl pools.  How the heck did I not do that?”

“Whayou doing, Rats?”

“That’s the whole point - I had no idea what the heck I was doing.  Did I do it on purpose, lil’ buddy?  I mean, it’s not like I consciously decided ‘eff the man!’ and came here to be some sort of bohemian, cool guy artist that refused to make money or be a part of society, right?  No, I came to New York City, and have been wandering around in a fog ever since, doing nothing that means anything to anybody.”

“Rats!  Meful, Rats!”

“No no, you’re right,” I corrected myself, “all this time with you has meant something.  You’re right.  Everything else, though, it’s been a big fog of nothingness.”

“Nuffin rats!”

“You said it, lil’ buddy,” I agreed.  “A big, fat nothing.  I can’t even sell out right; I’m like the starving artist, but without bothering with the pesky part of being an artist.  Or, obviously, starving.” 

Heavy Hearts

I am a spoiled, lucky Yankee fans. I walked into them at the beginning of 1998, the greatest team of all time that also happened to be very likeable for a dynasty team. I got to watch every game, every night. I was there for three straight World Series wins, including a Subway Series, and then two more World Series both of which we lost but one of those was probably the best World Series I’ve ever seen. I saw Aaron Boone’s dinger. Then came some years of early playoff exits and unlikeable players (Brown, Sheffield etc), but the threat of returning to the World Series was always there, and the players were still larger than life. And then we won it all again in 2009 with what my have been my favorite team (and had the most exciting stretch I’ve ever seen.) Players came and went, but the lineup was always electric. And the one constant? Derek Jeter. Of course.

Today, it’s hard to imagine myself as a Yankees fan next year. I don’t mean I still won’t identify as one, and I’ll still keep up. But I probably won’t rush to get home at 7:05 every day. I probably won’t put off weekend days until the game’s over.

And it’s not just because we’ll probably wander in the wilderness of mediocrity/losing for a long while. I can live with that. It’s the nameless, faceless players on the team now. Or just old. Players come, players go. But Jeter was always there, that one last connection to the Joe Torre years, to Paul O’Neil and Bernie and the Core Four and Tino and on and on. The connection to those magic moments, some of them his own. New York has infinitely changed since he first took over short. The world has. I have, we all have. But we always knew #2 would be there every day. And now he won’t be. “The end of an era” is so clichéd, but it’s true. He was this thread that drew us back, back, back together over the years, years so unfathomably long ago now that always seemed like just yesterday; cold opening day games, seemingly meaningless Sunday games in June, and of course thrilling nighttime moments in October. Even the way he had that final hit at The Stadium was one so familiar to us: a single punched into right field. Just like we'd seen all those times before - heck, a home run wouldn't have felt as perfect as that. Those days were so long ago now, but he was there, and so were we. And now he’s gone. And a part of us is too.

I'll always watch the Yankees. But it will never be the same. As sad as I am, I also feel lucky I had a front-row (well, tv) seat to it all, over all those years.

Happy Birfday Paddy Mac!

A stroll through memory lane, if you will:

Paddy Mac, Football Star!

Hello Paddy Mac!

Paddy Mac vs. Theodore Album Review

Paddy Mac hits the mats!

Fall 2006

From a few summers ago.

More Jeter (Duh)

Via:

I want you to just listen to the crowd as it watches the outcome of Derek Jeter's final at-bat at Yankee Stadium. It rises to pure white noise as the ball gets through the right side, sounding about as loud as a ballpark could possibly get. And then Antoan Richardson scores, and it gets louder.

That's not sentimental applause befitting the valedictory last night was supposed to be. That's the intense, primal roar of a crowd totally absorbed by the action, joyous over the hit and the win. It sounds like a playoff crowd, baseball fans going nuts over baseball things. Derek Jeter Night in the Bronx struck a perfect balance, celebrating the memories of the last 20 years, and creating a new memory that'll stand up with the best of them.

Yes

Goodbye Jeter

During the 8th innnig, the fans were going so nuts and you can tell it was affecting the usually stoic Jeter, so for the first time ever I actually thought "please don't hit it to Jeter."

Asked on the field what he was thinking leading into that final at-bat, Jeter said simply: “Don’t cry.”

Now THIS Was a Walk-Off.

Because of Course.

Jeter wins it with a walk-off single. Fucking Hollywood in The Bronx. Unreal.

Orioles Tie it Up!

Yes! Jeter will get an at-bat in the 9th. Will feel The Stadium shake from here. If he hits a game-winning home run, my deal re: getting back down to my 4th grade weight stands.

Great. The only time in life I've gotten exactly what I wanted, and it's the Yankees giving up a 3-run lead. Of course.

PS - anyone end the game before Jeter gets up, Imma flip out on.

Goodbye Jeter

Even the Mets!

Goodbye Jeter

I just realized it's the bottom of the 8th; unless the Yankee pitchers fuck this up, we've already seen Jeter's final home at-bat.

Jeter Memories, Almost to 3,000 Edition

VIA.

All throughout Derek Jeter's chase for 3,000 hits, whenever he gets up to the plate YES flashes the graphic that shows how close he is, so we always see the name SAM RICE.  Rice had 2,987 hits, making him the closest to 3,000 without getting there.  Mostly, people shake their heads and wonder how he could ever quit when he was so close.  And I did too, until it dawned on me: Rice knew that as long as he hovered around JUST UNDER 3,000 hits, he'd live on in history forever!!  Every time someone starts closing in on 3,000 you'll see Rice's name sitting there, parked right under Roberto Clemente's 3,000.  Nobody will ever retire again that close to the milestone, as the media frenzy surrounding the march to 3,000 would just be too crazy.  Meanwhile, once you pass 3,000 nobody gives a shit, they only list Clemente and maybe one more before cutting off the graphic.  So Sam Rice knew EXACTLY what he was doing, that tv and the internet et al would always be forced to show his name.  Genius!

So remember - it's not always just about attaining your goals, since sometimes when you crap out without bothering to actually achieve them, THAT'S where greatness truly lies!

Jeter Memories: Golden Days

Andy Bernard, in the The Office finale:

"I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days before you've actually left them"

Xmastime back in 2009:

As he just won his fifth World Series ring, had an MVP-caliber "fuck you h8ers" season which included passing the Iron Horse for the Yankees hits record and is banging Minka Kelly, SI making him the 2009 Sportsman of the Year probably makes this the perfect time to remember that Derek Jeter's days as a New York Yankee are numbered, so we should take a moment to step back and realize we are presently watching the career of one of baseball's all-time players.

Jeter Memories: Funny

VIA.

Derek Jeter’s take on Steinbrenner’s monument:

“It was big,” Jeter said. “Probably just how The Boss wanted it. The biggest one out there.”

Would Steinbrenner have liked that idea?

“It probably was his idea.”

Jeter Memories

Via old Xmastime:

Watching the HBO doc about Derek Jeter's 3,000th hit is jarring because in the almost two decades I've watched him play, I feel like I've never seen him in regular clothes, and not a Yankees uniform.  It's like seeing Charlie Brown without his signature shirt.

Jeter Memories

One time a small tractor played short instead of Jeter. It's true. I was there. And ate a lot. And a lot.

Goodbye Jeter

All those years in Brooklyn, all those games watched at 100 Metro. Meaningless June games on Sundays, evening games after work. October games when you could feel the Earth shake. And now it all ends on a random Thursday night in Washington, DC.

VIA.

No one, of course, will ever forget Derek Jeter’s final at-bat. He came to the plate in the bottom of the third, one out, nobody on. He swung at the first pitch, hit a dribbler back to the mound and was thrown out in roughly two seconds. This, however, did not faze him. Jeter kept running at full speed, past first base, all the way into the outfield. He was running out one last ground ball.

When he reached the outfield wall, Jeter touched it and turned left and — still hustling — ran along its entire periphery. At this point, the crowd started to feel that something special might be happening and rose to its feet. When he reached the left-field corner, he vaulted the wall and ran into the bleachers, head down, legs pumping. He ran up and down the stairs, chugging hard, all the way around the stadium. Slowly it dawned on us: Derek Jeter was running out all of life’s ground balls, for everyone, everywhere, forever. After a while, it didn’t matter that he’d been thrown out 20 minutes earlier or that the teams on the field had resumed playing and were now deep into the next inning. The crowd started to chant his name. The commissioner appeared on the JumboTron to give Jeter nine honorary retroactive M.V.P. awards and a lifetime-achievement batting title, but Jeter didn’t even look up.  

He was running, very fast, head down, running and running, running out that grounder. Whenever a player in the actual game hit a ball on the ground, Jeter would sprint back down from the stands and run alongside the batter as he ran to first base, then run tight little circles around him as he walked back to the dugout.

THE BEGINNING

Box score form the first game I ever saw at Yankee Stadium. Mo came in to pitch the 11th for the win.

Xmastime here:

8. NY Yankees vs. Seattle Mariners, April 30, 1998 - the day I fell in love with the Yankees. I've blathered on and on about on Xmastime many times before. Also, the day I've met my roommate, which wouldn't normally be that important except for the fact that we've lasted longer than most marriages. And entire school careers. And all American wars combined. 

Truth

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.  - XMASTIME

THIS Is Pretty Cool

Of course you know how I feel about terrible walk-up songs.

Burn Baby Burn (Library Inferno)

This is apparently National Book Burning Week, so of course you think of one thing: The Waltons!

The Sports Guy

Bill Simmons has been suspended for three weeks for some shit he said about NFL commissioner Roger Goodell.

I still think his biggest crime is still that, listening to him right now, he sounds more Midwestern than Bostonian. Wtf?

Over on ESPN.com I listened to the Sports Guy's podcast for the first time. Disappointing. #1, me and PooPoo are better. As funny as he used to be in his column, he's b o r i n g live. But what's up with his slightly Midwestern accent? All his BostonBostonBoston nonsense - he supposedly grew up in the Gaaaahhhden, where's his accent? Am I the only one who was expecting Cliff Clavin? What the fuck.  - XMASTIME

Worlds Colliding

Mrs. Baylock from The Omen, ie the scariest character in the scariest movie ever, and Mrs. Cadogan from my beloved Irish R.M., teaming up in a 1980 BBC presentation of A Tale of Two Cities.

Happy 65th to

BRUUUUUUUUCE!  Who I suspect is not retiring anytime soon.

Questions. I Have Them.

Is the natural antecedent to Rust Cohle none other than Sydney Carton? #truedetective

Mighty Mites!

I just watched this 19,000 times in a row. They look like the first boat that landed at Normandy.

Thoughts. I Have Them.

If the novel you're reading was written before A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, the odds of a character at some point buying a small block of cheese and a hunk of bread and then eating it are roughly 100%.

Getting Old Advice

Reading that Leonard Cohen has started smoking again at age 80 reminded me of this great advice from Alan Arkin.

Oh Oh

I've mentioned on this blog a million times that as I get older, life seems to always comes down to being George Costanza. And this guy at Grantland agrees:

Now that I am myself a nominal adult, I think of George as more of a documentary.  - XMASTIME

Here's 27 signs you're the George Costanza of your group.

I'm pretty sure it's me.

I'll Watch...

...but does the promo hafta include "Here he is getting a blowjob!"

Always Sunny

With apologies to Phil Dunphy, Charlie Kelly is still the funniest tv character of the last decade.

Down in Jeterland

The juxtaposition of all the farewell tributes to Jeter amidts the NFL's abuse problems remind me when of all people Cal Ripken and Tony Gwynn were inducted into the Hall of Fame.

The Replacements - Who Thought They'd Live Long Enough to See This?

I don't even mean in some sort of fan-emotional way (and I am a fan of course)...but because of what these two guys started over 30 years ago, and now they're set for life...they were born to be losers, and now here they are: The fucking Replacements.

A Tale of Two Becky's

9) THE TWO BECKY CONNORS - Lecy Goranson and Sarah Chalke. Both, of course played Becky on "Roseanne." I mean, how amazing would it be to fuck 2 chicks that played the same character on tv? You can have your Darrens from "Bewitched", I'll take these two...although technically, didn't the Olsen twins play the same character in 'Full House'? Tagging the two of them would be great, but I dunno...just occurred to me...what if you're hitting on one of the Olsens, and flatter her a bit with her great work on 'Full House', and you go home with her. Could you really be involved with someone who's okay with you being a "man" and a fan of "Full House"? I dunno. Just like when my last girlfriend stayed with me even after finding my Bert & Ernie fuck-doll set, there's a certain amount of respect lost, no? Meanwhile, I think the Becky I v. Becky II argument is worthy of its own post, so stay tuned for that one. - XMASTIME

Now this is a great cast photo.

So Come On, Darkness

Sully's been yammering for a few days bout seeing the stars when it's dark enough. That's one thing I miss about down home, how fucking dark it gets without all the artificial lighting like we have here in NYC. The kind of dark where it's possible to have no idea someone is standing five feet in front of you. Seeing taillights across the river slowly move along a bridge a few miles away. Such darkness has always been comforting to me, and I think I get depressed sometimes being in the big city where there's never absolute darkness - that omnipresent pink hue of light drives me fucking bananas. It's like that awful feeling as a kid of going to bed when it's still light outside.- XMASTIME

While light pollution has become an epidemic and it's getting harder and harder to see the same night sky the ancient Greeks did, over at VOX there's hope that we can get our night skies back:

Still, as light pollution becomes a bigger issue, some towns are starting to cut back on excessive lighting.

The best known example to date is in Los Angeles, which is replacing its old bulbous streetlamps that scattered light in every direction with newer, more efficient LEDs that only send light downward. As Ucilia Wang recently illustrated in Forbes, the reduction in glare has been dramatic, and the skies overhead are now noticeably darker. (That said, cities interested in reducing light pollution need to be careful about color selection. Many LEDs largely emit blue light, which brightens the night sky more than any other color.)

There are other lighting technologies cities could adopt, too. "We now have the ability to dim lights in ways that we couldn't before," says Scott Kardel of the International Dark-Sky Association. "And we can even equip streetlights with sensors so that they only turn on when traffic or people are nearby."
Kardel notes that more and more cities are taking a closer look at these technologies — although it's usually done to save money, and not necessarily to bring back the night sky.

Guys On Film, WTF!??!

I'm watching "Brother Outsider: Life of Bayard Rustin", and one of the first things they show is some film of him playing high school football. What? He was born in 1912 - meaning that AT THE LATEST, his senior season woulda been 1929. And there's footage of him playing!!!! I played 60 years later, and I promise there's no fucking footage of me floating around there. 1929. Good lord. Who was filming this shit? Who could've had that equipment - was Elia Kazaan hanging around black high school football games?

But this always drives me crazy. There's always some bio about a dude or a family, and the first thing they always talk about is how poor they were. "We had to eat the cat for lunch and then throw him up to eat him again for dinner, boy we were poor." And then they cut away to home movies. How did this happen? Hey, maybe if Pops hadn't dropped $34,000 to buy the camera from NASA, you could leave the cat alone. There are no such films of me growing up; hell I didn't know ANYbody who had any sort of movie camera back then. Any biopic of me will hafta start in like 2008, now that digital video cameras come free with two boxtops of Tide. The previous years will hafta be claymation dhiaramas I guess. - XMASTIME

I'm thinking the exact same thing as I'm re-watching The Roosevelts on PBS - I mean, wtf?!??!! Who in 1898 was filming Teddy Roosevelt?

The Twee Revolution

Is happening, people:

“the most powerful youth movement since Punk and Hip-Hop.” He doesn’t even put an arguably in there, bless him. You’re Twee if you like artisanal hot sauce. You’re Twee if you hate bullies. Indeed, it’s Spitz’s contention that we’re all a bit Twee: the culture has turned. Twee’s core values include “a healthy suspicion of adulthood”; “a steadfast focus on our essential goodness”; “the cultivation of a passion project” (T-shirt company, organic food truck); and “the utter dispensing with of ‘cool’ as it’s conventionally known, often in favor of a kind of fetishization of the nerd, the geek, the dork, the virgin.”

I guess the next generation of the hipster has formally arrived.

Here Come the Waterworks

Jeter's final home stand starts tonight:

“I think there’s going to be (a focus on Jeter) no matter what,” manager Joe Girardi said. “He’s meant just so much to this organization in the way he’s represented it: what he’s been on the field, and that way he’s represented it off the field. … Twenty years in the big leagues. Played hard every day. Never got in trouble. He just did things the right way. That’s what you want, and that’s what he’s done. And I think fans are really appreciative of that. They haven’t read things where he’s been in trouble or accused of things. He just hasn’t done it.”

NYC SITCOM MAP

VIA.

Hilarious du Jour

Reasons given to break up with someone. Dying.

This Might Explain Something

One small memory I've always kept, even if it was only a small moment, was one afternoon after Sunday dinner. I might've been oh, 10 or 11 years old. I was doing the dishes by myself, the kitchen empty except for my mother sitting at the kitchen table behind me. I'm scrubbing dishes etc, just relaxing and looking out the window that was in front of me over the sink, with neither of us saying anything. I quietly start humming something, just kinda bopping my head ba-dum-bum-bum-bum-ba-dum-bum-bum-bum, just kinda bebopping for no reason. This shortly changed from humming to pshaw-ing out loud the same rhythm with my lips - I'd forgotten my mother was sitting behind me and I was getting noisier. Then from outta the water in the sink I happened to pick up a brush, shaped like a paintbrush, made to put a glaze on a country ham, I'm guessing. I'm bebopping out loud, bopping my head, rinsing the brush off and without breaking rhythm all of a sudden I thrust the brush to the window and give it a few slaps, as if I was painting on a large canvas, like I'm Bob Ross; my slaps with the brush accompanied by my  scatting "A BOW-BOW-BOW!" All of a sudden I hear my mother behind me cracking up - I turn around and she's laughing her head off. "Oh god, Greg," she laughed, "you're too funny." Looking back I don't know if it was that funny, and it's a tiny moment in just any ordinary day, but I'll always remember it.  - XMASTIME

And I'm always shooting for it.

Are You Fuckng Kidding Me du Jour

The Rolling Stones' Muscle Shoals bill for recording Wild Horses. THAT'S IT?!?!?

9/16/62

Speaking of PBS, Channel 13's first night on the air was 52 years ago tonight!

Grrrrrrrrr

“Greg’s juicing today? Oh then by all means, let’s wheel in a goddam Mexican smorgasbord!!!” ‪#‎killmenow‬

Cool du Jour

Infographic showcasing how many times Derek Jeter has swung a bat throughout his career.

Hot Beef Injection

My only beef with PBS' The Roosevelts is Paul Giamatti speaking for Teddy - when I hear that voice, I can only think of John Adams.

Faraway You

Great article about longtime Xmastime friends Marah:

Live shows were and still are where Marah truly take a chunk out you and leave their mark, though. The brothers Bielanko and their ever-rotating supporting cast are nothing short of incendiary on the right night. The Hold Steady has often been called "The best bar band in America." As someone who has seen both bands at their relative peaks, Marah had them beat for a few years. Bootleg recordings of their shows from the late '90s and the early aughts still stand-up to scrutiny. When they toured in 2004 with Jon Wurster on drums and Mike Slo-mo Brenner on playing slide guitar, they shook buildings off their foundations. Wurster described his experience as one of the most maddening years he ever spent playing music.

8 Years Ago Today. Hard to Believe.

"What, the last time you saw your own dick, you fat fuck?!?!?!  Hahahahahahaha!!!!!"

Nine Innings from Ground Zero

Scott Brosius: "Life is not fair. I mean, if there was ever a fair time for the Yankees to win the World Series, that was the year." 

Nine Innings from Ground Zero was on when I woke up this morning, and I could watch it around the clock. The best World Series I've ever seen. Can still feel the goddam bar at the Hog Pit shake with Brosius' home run. Paul O'Neill's last game at The Stadium. And a quirky reminder that in the two times the Yankees have "blown it" since their last World Series title in 2000, Mariano Rivera, a first ballot Hall of Famer who is the single greatest player ever at his position, was the one with the ball: a throwing error that led to a blown save against the Diamondbacks, and then blowing what looked like an easy save in the 2004 ALCS that would've swept the Red Sox, therein opening the gates to the greatest comeback in baseball history. How much would history be different if the greatest closer of all time had done what he had done countless times before?

Anyway. Narrated by Liev Schrieber, it's a slice. As I wrote HERE:

I was watching Nine Innings from Ground Zero for the 900th time this morning. And it dawned on me that you know what, yet another piece of evidence that God does not exist is the fact that the Yankees lost that series.

Not just because the Yankees lost, mind you, but HOW they lost. Think about it...America was under attack blah blah blah, and if there ever was a time that was right for the Yankees to win, this was it. And look at what ensued...Tino's home run, Mr. November's home run, Soriano's gw rbi, the you're-not-human-if-theres-no-waterworks scene of the crowd serenading Paul O'Neill in his last ever game at The Stadium, all setting up a Game 7 of Clemens vs Schilling. All these miraculous moments playing out for people that needed miracles. Deserved miracles, even. And in the end...it all gets thrown away because, of all people, the greatest reliever in the history of the planet throws the ball away at second base. What? Are you kidding me? I'm supposed to believe there's a god, and he's that cruel? Setting us up like that?!?!??!

Mostly, it's just depressing to watch, even after ten years.  Not because of the people that died on 9/11, or the lost decade of endless wars and a shattered economny, but because it constantly reminds me "oh my god - I was still in my twenties then!!!!!!"

ps - everybody rightfully lauds it as a great play, but most people, myself included, forget that Jeter's "Flip Play" was the turning point in the Oakland series and spurred them from being down 0-2 to the A's to coming back to win the series and then plowing through a 116-game winning Seattle Mariners and into the World Series.

pps: even Bush was incredible in that Series. Dude threw a fucking strike.

illWill as Conan O'Brien as Casper the Friendly Ghost.

And: Aunt Pat & Aunt Eileen!

Dying.

Thank you Onion.

Suuuuuuuperslice

Nine Innings From Ground Zero (HBO 2004) from Morrealefilms on Vimeo.

The Replacements on Late Night TV

If The Happy Scene were to reunite in 2028, we'd prolly play this  :)

Children By the Million



Beatlemania Hasn't Bitten the Dust, It's Coming to Richmond!

A Hard Day's Night at the Byrd Theater? Yes please!

On Sunday, September 21, 2014, the Bijou Film Center will present a classic film followed by some splendid live music to launch its fundraising effort and begin putting the story of its mission before Richmond's movie-loving public.

6:05 p.m.: From the stage in front of the screen at The Byrd Theatre, James Parrish and Terry Rea will introduce the feature attraction, “A Hard Day’s Night” (1964), which is celebrating its 50th anniversary. The sound and picture have been newly restored. And, perhaps a wee surprise will be served up. 

6:30 p.m.: “A Hard Day’s Night,” starring the Beatles in their first movie, will be screened. Shot in glorious black and white the motion picture runs 87 minutes. 

"Wee surprise". Hmm.

TV! TONIGHT!

The Replacements play The Tonight Show...fascinating to wonder what they'll play?

Tuesday, the Replacements will perform on “The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon,” which is surprising considering that Lorne Michael, producer of “The Tonight Show,” once banned the ’Mats after a shambolic (and profane) performance on “SNL” in 1986. Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards is also booked on “The Tonight Show” Tuesday, raising the possibility that Richards might join the Replacements for a song.

Xmastime Emergency Radio Announcement!!!

If I'm correct, and I rarely am, at about 8:15 you can tune in live to The Replacements playing Boston HERE.

John Updike is Overrated

My official word on John Updike: he's a great writer, but not a good storyteller. People love a good story.

Ah, Sweet, Horrible Perspctive

The New Fischer?

Brief article on the greatest chess champ in the world right now, Magnus Carslen from Norway:

Carlsen, 23 years old, is the highest-rated chess player ever and already in the conversation for greatest of all time.

 

Like any sport, modern high-level chess tends to enforce a certain orthodoxy of technique. In the same way you no longer see jump shots like Bill Cartwright's or windups like Juan Marichal's, the primacy of the computer in chess today has universalized a drab, uninflected style of play. Carlsen has spoken of "weird computer moves I can't understand." Playing against the machines, he told the New Yorker's D.T. Max, is "like playing someone who is extremely stupid but who beats you anyway," and because nearly all chess training nowadays is done on the computer, where every position yields an optimal line of play, that mechanical style has spread to the humans. It's a way of playing that encourages efficiency above all else. By contrast, Carlsen relies on his intuition, on what former champ Garry Kasparov describes as an almost musical sense of the board:

I coached Carlsen for a year, in 2009, and I was amazed at how quickly he could correctly evaluate a position "cold," seemingly without any calculation at all. My own style required tremendous energy and labor at the board, working through deep variations looking for the truth in each position. Carlsen comes from a different world champion lineage, that of Jose Capablanca and Anatoly Karpov, players who sense harmony on the board like virtuoso musicians with perfect pitch.

YouTube du Jour

I've never read a Cliff's Notes or Spraknotes or whatever but apparently they make videos now; this is very cool if you're looking to re-read a book you love and wanna refresh your memory before starting.

This is a cow who is mighty, mighty embarrassed right now.