Saturday, August 29, 2020
Friday, August 28, 2020
This Is Still a Good Question.
Thoughts on Americans. Europeans Have Them.
The good folks - I guess they're good, I have no idea, I have never met them and never will - have delightfully put together a list of 37 Questions About Americans in Movies That Truly Confuse Non-Americans. Here's a few of my faves.
Wes Freed
Nice article HERE about living Richmond legend Wes Freed. I know him mostly from his distinctive Drive-By Truckers album covers, but he's spent decades in the city being an artist and musician, becoming a sort of family tree connecting countless projects together. A quietly influential figure, for sure:
Some of your older flyers even have Black Lives Matter references in them, do you consider your work political?Well I suppose, as someone spray-painted on a wall once, all art becomes political. I’ve always been a political creature, I guess. Got turned on as a kid by Jimmy Carter’s election. Growing up on a farm and seeing someone like him, who was a small-town farmer, it was inspiring. I’m actually working on [a painting] of him and his wife for a friend of the family – and it’s going to be a birthday gift to [Carter]. But he’s hard to draw without looking like a caricature, and I don’t want it to look like that.
The Truckers are an incredibly progressive [Southern rock] band, they’ve lost fans over it. People are always telling them to just shut up and sing.
How has the Drive-By Truckers association most changed your life?Between them and the internet, I’ve been able to do this professionally. It’s what I do now. I came down off the ladders in like the mid-aughts. It was their social media maven Jenn Bryant who hooked me up with a website, their social media guy hooked me up with a Facebook page. Either T-shirts or posters [for multigig runs] are available at all their shows. I’ve probably done at least 200 for them.
Former Xmastime legend The Barber was in Dirtbox with him, according to former Xmastime legend The Barber. I for one, about 15 years ago, emailed him outta the blue asking if he'd do the artwork for my own band's album.
Still waiting to hear back.
You can buy the first book containing a collection of his artwork HERE. Check some of his shit below - his Southern Rock Opera album cover is still one of my favorites of all time.
Last Night's RNC
I'd been surprised at how dull the RNC has been, but was looking forward to Trump's speech as he is nothing if not a showman. Turns out he gave the lowest-energy speech of his life - still stuffed to the gills with lies, of course, but duller than shit. I made it through half of it. But here are some of my live Tweets from the speakers before him. Enjoy!
I'm honestly shocked at how dull the RNC has been. Trump's generally a useless idiot, but he is a showman. Did not expect this at all.— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
I seem to have spoken too early when I said the RNC has been boring: here's Ben Carson!— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
So Trump's message is that every day under his watch, more people are getting shot in the head so we should keep this party going for another 4 years? Very interesting. 11th-level Connect 4, indeed.— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
This RNC is nothing more than the chickens demanding Colonel Sanders remain in charge. MKFCGA!— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
Lincoln in 1864: "If you vote for George McClellan a massive Civil War will break out, killing 600,000 Americans!" #2020RNC— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
Ivanka comes out to "I'm Still Standing." Yes, her somehow managing to overcome so many obstacles in life and live to tell the tale is truly inspiring.— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
Thankfully, sex with Jared has prepared Ivanka for such tepid responses from the crowd. #RNC2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
Pretty nice response from a crowd presumably forced to sign a document expressly waiving Trump of liability if they get sick or die at this event. Nice!— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
Look, I'll say what nobody else will say: Ivanka's a nice piece of ass. Well, nobody else but her dad, I mean. #RNC @TuckerCawley1— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
Low energy. Needs to turn it up - when does he bring out the Killer Kenosha Kid for a live pardon? #RNC2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
If there was ever a time for Kimberly Gilfoyle to come back to the mic screaming like a lunatic, this is that time. Zzzzzzzzz. #lowenergyTrump #RNC— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
After this RNC, I can't wait for Trump to be president so he can stop all the violence and hellscapes that are happening under the current administration. MAGA!— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 28, 2020
Big Brother
I've seen a lot of Only Fools and Horses scripts over the years, but surely none is greater than this one: David Jason's (Del Boy) script form the very first episode, the fantastic Big Brother!
WTF du Jour En Francais
I just that Napoleon Bonaparte only lived to be 51. 51??!?!?!?! Mind blown.
Maybe it was all that pettiness when it came to that goddam Gérard.
Maybe it was all that pettiness when it came to that goddam Gérard.
Thursday, August 27, 2020
Nostalgia Time
Feeling nostalgic for beach week, with I miss greatly. Here's a great "movie" from The Golden Beach Week of 2014. Enjoy! :)
Baffling
Mike Pence last night during his RNC speech:
"Last week, Joe Biden didn't say one word about the violence and chaos engulfing cities across this country. Let me be clear: the violence must stop -- whether in Minneapolis, Portland or Kenosha."
WTF - Is Trump the first incumbent president running on the premise of “can you believe how shitty things are on my watch?”
Your WTF? Bo Jackson Moment du jour
My favorite part of this is George Brett over at first just acting all casual after the throw like what Bo Jackson just did was in any fucking way normal.— Super 70s Sports (@Super70sSports) August 27, 2020
pic.twitter.com/2jhU2NKBdB
Wednesday, August 26, 2020
Current Events
From what I can gather, police see black men walking around empty-handed as a threat and white men walking around armed with assault weapons as allies. That's a problem.
Dallas Irony.
One of the more curious things about Monty Python is that of all cities, the first PBS station to show them in America was in Dallas. Hardly a city of cosmopolitan, European humor, mostly known for hard-ass American cowboys and blowing JFK's brains out - as per John Cleese: "We just knew that something extraordinary had happened, and we were so stunned it was Dallas. Because in England, in the old days, we thought the people in Dallas ate their own children. We were just delighted."
And apparently there was one man responsible:
In 1975, KERA in Dallas, Texas was the first public television station to air Monty Python's Flying Circus. This is a video of an appearance the troupe made to KERA during that year's membership pledge drive.
And apparently there was one man responsible:
On Sept. 22, 1974, Monty Python’s Flying Circus made its television debut in the United States — in Dallas, on KERA (Channel 13). For this point of civic pride, a footnote deserving a chapter in this city’s history, we must thank Ron Devillier, who at the time was program manager at Dallas’ public television station. Credit often goes solely to Robert Wilson, father of Owen and Luke and Andrew. Wilson was the station’s president and general manager in ’74 and allowed the British Broadcasting Corp.’s series on Dallas’ airwaves.HOW THE FUCK DO THE WILSON BROTHERS NOT BRAG ABOUT THIS CONSTANTLY???
But without Devillier, Wilson never gets to make that call.
In the spring of ’74, Devillier took a phone call from a friend who worked for Time Life, which, 45 years ago, provided a significant bulk of KERA’s programming. This rep was upfront with Devillier: He was pitching KERA a show that no one else wanted called Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
The call came on a Wednesday — Devillier recalls the day like someone who has told this story more than once. By Friday, two boxes filled with giant videocassettes arrived. The next afternoon he went to the office — “to give it a shot” — and took about half the tapes into the old video room, expecting to screen a few episodes before meeting his then-fiancée for dinner.
“And I wound up falling in love with them,” Devillier said. “I stayed all day watching those damned things. I was that enamored of the show. I don’t know why. They just hit my funny bone. I called them back and said, ‘We’d like to buy them.’”Cleese remained so grateful, he insisted on meeting Devillier when he visited the station in 2019.
In 1975, KERA in Dallas, Texas was the first public television station to air Monty Python's Flying Circus. This is a video of an appearance the troupe made to KERA during that year's membership pledge drive.
Tuesday, August 25, 2020
My Officemate...
Jerry Seinfeld: "New York City Will Never Die"
Real, live, inspiring human energy exists when we coagulate together in crazy places like New York City. Feeling sorry for yourself because you can’t go to the theater for a while is not the essential element of character that made New York the brilliant diamond of activity it will one day be again.
No Reason
I've had Looney Tunes on my mind lately so why not post Chuck Jones' rules for Road Runner cartoons for writers and artists.
And don't forget how different Wile E. was in the beginning!
And don't forget how different Wile E. was in the beginning!
Whoa! du jour
Designers challenged themselves to create a typographic logo every day for a year, and they're pretty amazing. Here's a few of my favorites:
They're all great, check them out HERE.
They're all great, check them out HERE.
Space Irony
Thoughts. I Have Them.
I love cherries. But, much like raisins, I have no idea why dry cherries exist. Wtf, people?
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| "On it, Boss." |
Official McNuggets Announcement
...before high school basketball games, whenever we'd travel to another school to play we'd stop at McDonald's, and the Coach would make a big deal out of us NOT eating french fries, as they would bog us down . But he didn't seem to mind us inhaling 20-piece packs of McNuggets ($2.90!), which are basically rat fur and thumbs wrapped in the outsides of french fries if they were fried, then fried again, then breaded and fried again. Obviously, he was also our trigonometry teacher. - XMASTIMEAfter almost 40 years, McDonald's is coming out with a new flavored Chicken McNugget, the Spicy Chicken McNugget:
Spicy Chicken McNuggets will hit US restaurants on September 16, for a limited time. It's the first new McNugget flavor in the United States since the item was introduced to the US menu in 1983. For McDonald's, the new item could be a way to capitalize on America's taste for chicken and create some much-needed buzz.I LOVE LOVE LOVE McNuggets, probably because I'm a living being with taste buds, but this worries me: once that flavor seal is broken, the lads in the lab never fucking turn off the faucet. How many different flavors of Doritos are there now? Pringles? For fuck's sake the wizards at White Castle can't even stop!!
Please don't fuck up the McNugget, a morsel so scrumptious that 10 years ago I called them our Middle East.
DON'T FUCK THIS UP MICKEY DEE'S!!! I SEE YOU IN THE LAB!!
Last Night's RNC, II
I really expected the Trump RNC to be exciting. Yes, incredibly dumb. Yes, packed to the gills with lies. But at least good television.
It was not.
I tuned in at about a quarter to 10pm and was immediately treated to Kimberly Gilfoyle, ie Don Jr's girlfriend, screaming like a banshee at the top of her lungs. Then came snoozefest Steve Scalise, who regaled us all with the amazingly heartwarming story of when he got shot and Trump came to visit him at the hospital. He sounded like the 7 year-old thrilled that his divorced dad showed up at his Pizza Hut birthday party for 5 minutes before leaving with his new, incredibly inappropriately-aged girlfriend. Next was some guy who did something brave in Iraq in 2006, then Don Jr, the crown jewel, who screamed at the camera that if you don't vote for daddy then America would be one huge hellscape. Nikki Haley calmed things down by walking us through the story of a white guy in South Carolina murdering black people in a church, which led to her taking down the Confederate flag in the SC state house, and then she pivoted to tell us that racism does not exist in the USA. Last up was the GOP's "I can't be racist because I know a black guy" Tim Scott, the only speaker who showed a glimpse of positivity and warmth but he'll probably never be seen again because he spent his time talking about Tim Scott and not his royal highness Donald Trump.
Again, I was shocked at how dull it was - at least the Democrats had different backgrounds; each Republican dutifully walked up to the same podium to excrete there revisionist history.
Oh well. Maybe tonight we'll get the strippers being shot out of cannons?
Here's a few tweets of mine as it ran, enjoy!
It was not.
I tuned in at about a quarter to 10pm and was immediately treated to Kimberly Gilfoyle, ie Don Jr's girlfriend, screaming like a banshee at the top of her lungs. Then came snoozefest Steve Scalise, who regaled us all with the amazingly heartwarming story of when he got shot and Trump came to visit him at the hospital. He sounded like the 7 year-old thrilled that his divorced dad showed up at his Pizza Hut birthday party for 5 minutes before leaving with his new, incredibly inappropriately-aged girlfriend. Next was some guy who did something brave in Iraq in 2006, then Don Jr, the crown jewel, who screamed at the camera that if you don't vote for daddy then America would be one huge hellscape. Nikki Haley calmed things down by walking us through the story of a white guy in South Carolina murdering black people in a church, which led to her taking down the Confederate flag in the SC state house, and then she pivoted to tell us that racism does not exist in the USA. Last up was the GOP's "I can't be racist because I know a black guy" Tim Scott, the only speaker who showed a glimpse of positivity and warmth but he'll probably never be seen again because he spent his time talking about Tim Scott and not his royal highness Donald Trump.
Again, I was shocked at how dull it was - at least the Democrats had different backgrounds; each Republican dutifully walked up to the same podium to excrete there revisionist history.
Oh well. Maybe tonight we'll get the strippers being shot out of cannons?
Here's a few tweets of mine as it ran, enjoy!
What time is the cop who killed George Floyd speaking at the RNC tonight?— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 24, 2020
Wow tuning into the #RNCConvention2020 now and whoever these Democrats are, they sure sound like evil monsters who want to burn down the country by...(checks notes...checks them again to make sure)...giving people affordable healthcare.— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
Guilfoyle into Scalise is like following up the WWE with the McLaughlin Group except not as interesting. #RNCConvention2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
Iraqi ware hero now telling his story hahahaha what a loser just wait until Trump tells about the time he overcame getting shamed into tipping the full 15% at a Red Robin. #RNC #perspective— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
Haley giving a history lesson to a group who only care about a certain 4-year stretch of history is interesting to watch. #RNCConvention2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
Out of solidarity with his girlfriend, is Don Jr. gonna scream at the camera for 15 minutes tonight? #RNCConvention2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
If Trump had a sense of humor, after Junior's "please watch me daddy!" speech he'd tell him "oh sorry, I was flipping around, guess I missed it..." #RNCConvention2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
If Trump does lose then the networks should pay him whatever it takes to film his family's Thanksgiving dinner live on tv. #RNCConvention2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
Tim Scott seems to be saying that if people had more money then things would be better. What a magician, I'm totally writing that one down. #RNCConvention2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
I was gonna make a "Trump just looked at the tv and said 'hey I thought John Lewis was dead'" joke but took the high road instead. You're welcome, folks. #RNCConvention2020— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
I really thought the #RNC would be more exciting. Incredibly dumb and packed with lies, but exciting. Other than Junior's girlfriend screaming at me it's been a snoozefest. (PS - how much does she charge to do that privately by the hour? Asking for me.)— XMASTIME (@XMASTIMEblog) August 25, 2020
Last Night's RNC
Tramps Like Us
Born to Run was released 45 years ago today. I don't really now why we don't just wait another 5 years to make it the big 5-0, but everyone's making a big deal of it so what the hell. Rolling Stone is reprinting (as if magazines exist hahahaha) an interview from 2005, and this has always been the crux of the album to me:
You also had lost perspective on it at that point.I lost the ability to hear it clearly, certainly towards the end of the production. After the long period of time we spent on it, I could only hear what was wrong with it or what I thought was weak with it. And also, the way we listened to the master was, we went downtown in Richmond, Virginia to the local stereo outlet and we asked the guy if we could play something on a stereo in the store. The guy made a big fuss and finally he sent us to the back of the store and we just put it on a record player that was on the shelf. Then we stood there in the middle of the store listening to the whole thing, attempting to judge what we thought of it. It was just really me not wanting to let it go and not wanting to admit that it was the best that I could do and that I was finished. To accept that our fortunes were going to rest on whatever this was, for better or for worse. That was a big responsibility at the time, and we were putting everything we had on what we’d done. So it was just traumatic. And you’re young, 24 or 25, and you don’t have the stability or the history to be able to put it in any kind of perspective. It was just all that there is and all that there was gonna be. [It felt like] there were gonna be no more records after this record. We were all going off a cliff the next day, as far as my approach to it. It was just, “This was it.”This re-telling can always be eye-lollingly dramatic - is all of this true, or did you just go into a studio and make an album? Which is why I like to put up Bruce's cinematic sense for melodrama face-to-face with reality:
Jon Landau, as co-producer, helped persuade him to let go. According to writer Dave Marsh, Landau called Springsteen and said, ‘Look, you’re not supposed to like it. You think Chuck Berry sits around listening to ‘Maybelline’ and when he does hear it, don’t you think he wishes a few things could be changed.? C’mon, it’s time to put the record out.’
It's my favorite Springsteen record and it's the one that made his career, and it was a highlight in one of my earliest posts ever, from November 2005:
I've always said the title track is THE greatest single of the last 30 years - shambolic Phil Spector sounds falling down the stairwell, with words that should mean everything to a small town boy like me. Why every band in the world hasn't tried to reproduce this sound is a mystery to me, but fuck em. The piano echo on Backstreets, the anguished singing taking me back home, and Jungleland unfolding piece by piece until you're in the middle of the street in the middle of the night in the middle of who the fuck knows what. Overblown? Yes. Dramatic? Certainly. Over the top? Isn't fucking everything when you're young, when you're running free, when you've found something to believe in, like Bruce did with the actual power of rock n roll? And really, shouldn't it be? You got your whole fucking life to be bored to death; anyone can be boring at any moment. It'd sure be nice to reach for something so great and unattainable these days; its all we can seem to do to get thru the day while hoping we "get" the White Stripes coolness, or Modest Mouse's emo-ness, or Wilco's...well, whatever it is that makes people like Wilco. On Born to Run, Bruce threw it all the table - love, youth, hope, at least HOPING for excitement if nothing else. You can almost picture Bruce pickin you up in a '70 Chevelle and hittin the Dairy Queen, tryin to to talk to chicks, getting ignored, driving up and down the only road in town, no money, no friends, but fuck, there's gotta be something else out there better than this. I felt the same way back in high school, standing around in French's parking lot, sipping a Big Gulp while dudes 10 years older tried to get girls to take them to the prom. Yeesh. Christ, look at me blathering bout Bruce. I don’t want no lovefest here, but hey, sit in your room tonight, turn all the lights off, and put on Born to Run. Born to Run will never, ever let you down.
Saturday, August 22, 2020
Friday, August 21, 2020
Political Questions. I Have Them.
Who's the political genius telling Trump & Co. that the best way to beat Biden is to remind everybody how terrible things are under Trump's watch? 🤔🤷♂️
Joe Strummer
Just finished the live-streaming of Joe Strummer's birthday celebration. When The Boss shows up to say a few words you know it's important. Some great performances, some okay performances, some moments that make you wanna cry. Really nicely put together. Thanks, Joe.
My Office Mate...
...upon realizing my nephew has discovered there’s a piano in the house. 😬 #Scooter
Sammiches!*
According to PBS, and why of people would PBS like to me, August is National Sandwich Month.
Which is perfect for me since it gives me a chance to post my favorite sandwiches documentary that I've been posted here for about 15 years. Enjoy!
*Great "sammiches!" story HERE. You're welcome.
Which is perfect for me since it gives me a chance to post my favorite sandwiches documentary that I've been posted here for about 15 years. Enjoy!
*Great "sammiches!" story HERE. You're welcome.
Burger King Thoughts. I Have Them.
So if I've studied Burger King correctly, and I believe I have: you can get an Impossible Whopper. You can get a Double Whopper. But you can't get an Impossible Double Whopper. (I'm not even touching the Triple Whopper scenario). INteresting...curious, even...
Thursday, August 20, 2020
Life Lessons: How Movies Work
If You're Dylan McKay:
1) Mention you'd like to write a screenplay with your rehab buddy, a 50 year-old guy working the front desk in his parents' motel
2) Immediately find yourself at a Hollywood party filled with producers who approach you and claim to be very interested in working with you on your project which at this point doesn't actually exist
3) Your partner somehow recognizes so and so as “the hottest sound guy in the biz, he should definately score our film,” to which you skeptically respond “well, he’ll have to understand my sensibilities about the film.”
If You're Anybody Else in the World:
1) You write a screenplay
2) Nobody cares
3) You eventually die
1) Mention you'd like to write a screenplay with your rehab buddy, a 50 year-old guy working the front desk in his parents' motel
2) Immediately find yourself at a Hollywood party filled with producers who approach you and claim to be very interested in working with you on your project which at this point doesn't actually exist
3) Your partner somehow recognizes so and so as “the hottest sound guy in the biz, he should definately score our film,” to which you skeptically respond “well, he’ll have to understand my sensibilities about the film.”
If You're Anybody Else in the World:
1) You write a screenplay
2) Nobody cares
3) You eventually die
Wednesday, August 19, 2020
Oh FFS
The folks over at The Ringer ask Which Pop Culture Dog Is Best in Show? and to be honest I'm embarrassed for them that they thought there is another possible answer than Snoopy.
Tuesday, August 18, 2020
Ideas. I Have Them.
Idea for a Saturday Night Live sketch: a home plate umpire who’s got the yips trying to throw a new ball back to the pitcher. (Curtsy)
Congressional Soldiers
Article over at the Economist tells us the number of people in Congress who have served in the military is plummeting:
The obvious explanation for this reversal of fortunes is that, with the end of the draft in 1973 and a shrinking army, there are fewer veterans to elect. There were over 26m of them in 2000 (13% of the adult population); now there are 18m today (7%). But their share of seats in Congress has fallen even faster than their share of the population. Part of the answer is that women, who entered Congress in growing numbers beginning in the late 1980s, are under-represented in the armed forces, making up just 16.5% of the army.
Another factor is that the cost of a campaign has spiralled over the years, says Rebecca Burgess of the American Enterprise Institute, a think-tank. Veterans with limited savings may not be able to raise the $2m it costs for a successful House race in 2018, or the $15.7m for a Senate seat.
But "But Xmastime", you say in the voice of Craig “Ironhead” Heyward from those soap commercials (RIP), “didn't you write all the way back in 2008 about the fact that nobody cares about war heroes anymore when choosing presidents?
Sigh. Yes, faithful readers. YES I DID.
NOTE: Shortly after the post I linked to John McCain, the ultimate war hero, lost to Obama, who'd never served a day in his life.
NOTE: Shortly after the post I linked to John McCain, the ultimate war hero, lost to Obama, who'd never served a day in his life.
Questions. I Have Them.
What time tonight will Trump announce that next's weeks RNC has the greatest tv ratings of any convention ever?
Monday, August 17, 2020
State du Moi
I’ve been driven crazy for the last two hours by a fly that apparently wants to die and has chosen the “suicide by cop” method. 😡
Still a Good Question
What do people who work in Grand Central say it's like when it gets super-busy on their shift? 🤔
10 Yers Ago Today
My "Two things I had never realized" post.
And how they might affect world peace.
The iconic call wasn't a national one, and we're lucky to hear it.
On a side note, what surviving player's home run holds that distinction now? Carlton Fisk?
On a side note, what's so great about sports' biggest moments is that over time they just continue to give and give. For instance, after a period of decades it's easy to look at the World Series that Bobby Thomson's homer run put the Giants in as a sort of nexus in Major League history, ie the introduction of two heroes that would dominate the 50's and 60's (Mickey and Willie) and the final appearance of the king of the late 30's and 40's (Joe DiMaggio.)
It Was 60 Years Ago Today
The Beatles first played Hamburg on August 17, 1960. 60 YEARS AGO!! And OF COURSE there are photos from that day!!!
On August 17th 1960, the Beatles played their very first concert at Indra, a Hamburg music club. Over the following two and a half years, the band played 281 gigs in Germany, and laid the foundations of their career. Hamburg is where the Beatles became stars, and they never tired of stressing the importance of their apprenticeship years in the music metropolis Hamburg, with John Lennon confessing: "I was born in Liverpool, but I grew up in Hamburg".
The Truth is the Truth.
When they ask you what kind of high school football player I was, you look them in the goddam eye and give them one word: electric. 
Interesting....Curious, Even....
Belated August 16 Post
(posted yearly since 2006)
August 16 has always been one of those “jump off the calander” dates for me, for many reasons. Babe Ruth, Elvis and Robert Johnson all died on August 16. The first Ramones show was on this date, and Pete Best was, as the Brits would say, “sacked” on August 16th. I just read that its Madonna’s birthday today, so we’ll see what “Her Genius” has in store for us today. Kathy Lee Gifford too, who I still wanna do. Whoa…Frank Gifford’s birfday too! Okay, now maybe I see why that kid is gonna be so creepy. Well, besides having a 90 year old father at your Little League games. But I also have personal reasons for always noticing August 16th.
1) August 16, 1989 - Bought my first car. Was a 1978 Ford Fiesta. I believe it was made out of Pepsi cans and…Diet Pepsi cans. Bought the thing for $400 from my friend Ryan, though I could have had it for $350 had my irrational fear of water not made me chicken out of riding on a jet ski. Of course I later found out that Ryan paid about ½ that when he bought it, but hey. I had some wheels. I remember it had an electric fuel pump, so it constantly made ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba sounds while I was cruising the strip for trim, and it also smelled like maple syrup. Well, maybe that was me. Amazingly enough, it had a sun roof. I have no idea how that came to be. Also a sound sytem that was worth WAY more than the car itself, complete with a separate equalizer. This was hot shit back in 1989, people. Also I managed to go about 8 months with no working tail lights or brake lights, which was overshadowed by the fact that my muffler was unattached on one end and was literally dragged around for about 2 months, sparks flying. Of course after I finally had it fixed my father casually mentioned that the sparks could’ve ingnited the gas tank and blown me to bits. Thanks pop! My girlfriend hated this car, she maybe rode in it twice. Which was great – I’d go to pick her up, start walking towards my car until I’d hear the inevitable “…ummm...let’s take my car.” Bling! That’s gas money in my pocket, which is no joke when you’re paying 96 cents a gallon and your car only gets 60 miles to the gallon, peeps!! Actually that was smart on her part, as it left more money for me to spoil her with at Pizza Hut. Smart girl (obviously – she dated me!!) On a side note, this reminds me that I probably paid for the cheapest prom dinner in history. All my friends chose some super-fancy French joint across the river called Windows. Great. I basically have to choose between dinner at this place or, you know, going to college. But I’m young, dumb and in love and this is where my girl wants to go, so I knock over a bunch of Girl Scouts during cookie season and we’re in. As for once God was smiling on me, it comes to be that this place is a seafood restaurant, so I’m off the hook – I hate seafood!!!! And through some other stroke of luck, my girlfriend isn’t in love with seafood either and ended up choosing some $4 shrimp appetizer thingee. “Keep the bread coming” I motioned to our waiter while my friends ordered clams casino scampi with extra saffron drizzle and sliced almond grenadine niblets in a pesto flecked with the earring Molly Ringwald gave Bender at the end of the Breakfast Club. My bill? $4.00!!!!!!! Of course God made sure my life still sucked by me not getting laid that night and sitting on and breaking the $75 pair of glasses that her mom had insisted on me buying before being entrusted with her Mercedes for the night. Ah well. I just noticed that if you quickly glance at them, can you tell the words “prom” and “porn” apart?
2) August 16, 1993 - I also bought my first real, new car on this date, a 1994 Jeep Cherokee. I don’t remember much about this one, but it did cart my ass back and forth between Tappahannock, VA and Oxford MS on many an occasion. When I left Oxford for the last time on my way to NYC via Tappahannock I had about $800 and a job waiting for me. I also had no car insurance, no tags, and an expired license. My plan was to park my car at home where no one would notice and then take care of all that shizzle later on, after I got settled in NYC etc. I somehow drove 1000 miles (in a driving rain, if I recall) without getting busted for these things listed above. I tucked the car off to the side of Rrthur’s house (yes ladies, THAT Rrthur!!) when I drove in at about 2am and figured I’d escape to NYC without anyone noticing, $800 and the big city ahead of me. Needless to say at 6am I was awoken by a furious Rrthur’s dad and next thing you know I’m at the DMV. Long story short, when I arrived in NYC the next day (January 1, 1998) I had $3 on me. And, just to make sure that NOTHING would go right for me, the guy that had hired me had completely forgetten about me and ta-da!! No job. I did get my last paycheck from Mississippi sent to me soon after though. You can imagine how that stacked up here in Brooklyn. A side note – I was down to my last $7, no job, wandering the streets of Brooklyn, where do I decide to say fuck it and cash in all my chips? That’s right - I could barely see the cashier through my salty tears and the greasy 4-inch thick bullet-proof glass as I laid down my fiver and 2 singles, but boy did them White Castles taste good.
3) August 16, 1995 – the day I moved to Oxford. How the fuck I stayed there for over 2 years is a mystery. I lived with Ryan in an apartment on Christman Drive; right next door to us were two typical Ole Miss frat fucks, but one interesting thing about them is that along with their two dogs, they had a pig. And, EXACTLY like that movie, the pig thought he was a dog, that he was “one of the guys.” Whenever I’d drive up the driveway, the 2 dogs would come tearing around the corner furiously to check out the action, and then….about 7 seconds later the pig would come chasing, belly swinging as he’d try to keep up, trying to look as angry as the dogs. “What the fuck’s up, guys!??!” Later in the evening I’d see them out in the yard trying to look like street toughs on a stoop, waiting for cars or people to come by to heckle, and you knew the pig was Horshack to the dogs’ Barbarino and Washington. Awesome. Another highlight from Oxford was Thanksgiving 1995. Ryan and I decided we were gonna stay in Oxford and make our own big Thanksgiving dinner. No, we’re not gay. Anyways we go to Kroger that morning to get everything, and as we’re about to check out I decide I should grab a case of beer. Since you couldn’t buy beer cold in Oxford, you kinda had to plan ahead. So I come strolling up with a case and Ryan FLIPS out, yelling at me for wanting to get shit-faced for Thanksgiving Dinner. No, we’re not gay. I try to explain to him I wasn’t gonna pound it when we got home and piss all over the Pilgrims, I was just gonna have it in the fridge for later on. Doesn’t matter, he’s furious, BOOM!! We don’t say one single word to each other after that. We go through the machinations of making a huge Thanksgiving Dinner, sit down and eat it…all while aggressively not speaking to each other. No, we’re not gay. And, even better, we filmed the whole fucking thing for some reason. It’s all on videotape. You see us silently making this huge dinner, silently eating it. Our silence does not end then; it goes on for 2 solid weeks. For two weeks we pass by each other wordlessly, live next to each other in total silence. The type of simmering rage you can only have for your best friend, I suppose. No, we’re not gay. Finally at the end of two weeks I’m sitting on the couch in the living room and he strolls in to the kitchen and grabs a box of cookies. I’m not paying attention, but because of my 14-day seething rage I can tell he’s looking in the box and strapping on his “I’m fucking incredulous!!” face. Then he does the ol’ look into the box-look up at me – look back into the box – look up at me routine.
“What?” (heeey…I broke the silence!! hooray!!)
“You ate my fucking cookies!!!!”
“What?”
“You ate all my fucking cookies you fucking shit!!!” (box thrown on the floor)
‘What the – shut the fuck up, I didn’t eat you precious fucking cookies!”
“You ate my fucking cookies!!”
“I did not eat your fucking cookies fuck you!!!!”
“You fucking shit!”
“Yeah, I got your cookies, ate them all, closed the EMPTY box up, carefully put them back on the shelf and chuckled ‘ooooh, he’ll never suspect a thing!!!!’!! fucking dumbass!!!”
This went on, screaming for 2 more minutes. Finally I stormed off to my room with a big “fuck you!!” and slammed my door. After about a 10 second pause I opened the door, saw him standing in the living room and shouted “You know what? Yeah, I ate your fucking cookies! And guess what – they were fucking AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” slam!!!
This of course was so ridiculous that within minutes we were on the floor laughing at our our ridiculousness. Rolling on the floor, entwined with each other in our youthfulness, young skin on young skin as we suckled each other’s neck. Okay, that was gay.
It’s been almost 11 years and Ryan, and I can confess…I have no idea what happened to your fucking cookies.
4) August 16, 1997 – the day my first girlfriend got married. Sigh. Woke up, had a bottle of gin waiting for me, guzzled. Not that it was any loss or whatever – we see each other like once every two years, we were just kids etc but I guess you gotta mourn a bit when your first love gets married; you gotta give them that much respect. I assume after I get married she’ll do the same for me. Well, if her husband gives her the go-ahead. And if she remembers I’m alive.
So Happy August 16th peoples! Maybe something noteworthy will happen today.
August 16 has always been one of those “jump off the calander” dates for me, for many reasons. Babe Ruth, Elvis and Robert Johnson all died on August 16. The first Ramones show was on this date, and Pete Best was, as the Brits would say, “sacked” on August 16th. I just read that its Madonna’s birthday today, so we’ll see what “Her Genius” has in store for us today. Kathy Lee Gifford too, who I still wanna do. Whoa…Frank Gifford’s birfday too! Okay, now maybe I see why that kid is gonna be so creepy. Well, besides having a 90 year old father at your Little League games. But I also have personal reasons for always noticing August 16th.
1) August 16, 1989 - Bought my first car. Was a 1978 Ford Fiesta. I believe it was made out of Pepsi cans and…Diet Pepsi cans. Bought the thing for $400 from my friend Ryan, though I could have had it for $350 had my irrational fear of water not made me chicken out of riding on a jet ski. Of course I later found out that Ryan paid about ½ that when he bought it, but hey. I had some wheels. I remember it had an electric fuel pump, so it constantly made ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba sounds while I was cruising the strip for trim, and it also smelled like maple syrup. Well, maybe that was me. Amazingly enough, it had a sun roof. I have no idea how that came to be. Also a sound sytem that was worth WAY more than the car itself, complete with a separate equalizer. This was hot shit back in 1989, people. Also I managed to go about 8 months with no working tail lights or brake lights, which was overshadowed by the fact that my muffler was unattached on one end and was literally dragged around for about 2 months, sparks flying. Of course after I finally had it fixed my father casually mentioned that the sparks could’ve ingnited the gas tank and blown me to bits. Thanks pop! My girlfriend hated this car, she maybe rode in it twice. Which was great – I’d go to pick her up, start walking towards my car until I’d hear the inevitable “…ummm...let’s take my car.” Bling! That’s gas money in my pocket, which is no joke when you’re paying 96 cents a gallon and your car only gets 60 miles to the gallon, peeps!! Actually that was smart on her part, as it left more money for me to spoil her with at Pizza Hut. Smart girl (obviously – she dated me!!) On a side note, this reminds me that I probably paid for the cheapest prom dinner in history. All my friends chose some super-fancy French joint across the river called Windows. Great. I basically have to choose between dinner at this place or, you know, going to college. But I’m young, dumb and in love and this is where my girl wants to go, so I knock over a bunch of Girl Scouts during cookie season and we’re in. As for once God was smiling on me, it comes to be that this place is a seafood restaurant, so I’m off the hook – I hate seafood!!!! And through some other stroke of luck, my girlfriend isn’t in love with seafood either and ended up choosing some $4 shrimp appetizer thingee. “Keep the bread coming” I motioned to our waiter while my friends ordered clams casino scampi with extra saffron drizzle and sliced almond grenadine niblets in a pesto flecked with the earring Molly Ringwald gave Bender at the end of the Breakfast Club. My bill? $4.00!!!!!!! Of course God made sure my life still sucked by me not getting laid that night and sitting on and breaking the $75 pair of glasses that her mom had insisted on me buying before being entrusted with her Mercedes for the night. Ah well. I just noticed that if you quickly glance at them, can you tell the words “prom” and “porn” apart?
2) August 16, 1993 - I also bought my first real, new car on this date, a 1994 Jeep Cherokee. I don’t remember much about this one, but it did cart my ass back and forth between Tappahannock, VA and Oxford MS on many an occasion. When I left Oxford for the last time on my way to NYC via Tappahannock I had about $800 and a job waiting for me. I also had no car insurance, no tags, and an expired license. My plan was to park my car at home where no one would notice and then take care of all that shizzle later on, after I got settled in NYC etc. I somehow drove 1000 miles (in a driving rain, if I recall) without getting busted for these things listed above. I tucked the car off to the side of Rrthur’s house (yes ladies, THAT Rrthur!!) when I drove in at about 2am and figured I’d escape to NYC without anyone noticing, $800 and the big city ahead of me. Needless to say at 6am I was awoken by a furious Rrthur’s dad and next thing you know I’m at the DMV. Long story short, when I arrived in NYC the next day (January 1, 1998) I had $3 on me. And, just to make sure that NOTHING would go right for me, the guy that had hired me had completely forgetten about me and ta-da!! No job. I did get my last paycheck from Mississippi sent to me soon after though. You can imagine how that stacked up here in Brooklyn. A side note – I was down to my last $7, no job, wandering the streets of Brooklyn, where do I decide to say fuck it and cash in all my chips? That’s right - I could barely see the cashier through my salty tears and the greasy 4-inch thick bullet-proof glass as I laid down my fiver and 2 singles, but boy did them White Castles taste good.
3) August 16, 1995 – the day I moved to Oxford. How the fuck I stayed there for over 2 years is a mystery. I lived with Ryan in an apartment on Christman Drive; right next door to us were two typical Ole Miss frat fucks, but one interesting thing about them is that along with their two dogs, they had a pig. And, EXACTLY like that movie, the pig thought he was a dog, that he was “one of the guys.” Whenever I’d drive up the driveway, the 2 dogs would come tearing around the corner furiously to check out the action, and then….about 7 seconds later the pig would come chasing, belly swinging as he’d try to keep up, trying to look as angry as the dogs. “What the fuck’s up, guys!??!” Later in the evening I’d see them out in the yard trying to look like street toughs on a stoop, waiting for cars or people to come by to heckle, and you knew the pig was Horshack to the dogs’ Barbarino and Washington. Awesome. Another highlight from Oxford was Thanksgiving 1995. Ryan and I decided we were gonna stay in Oxford and make our own big Thanksgiving dinner. No, we’re not gay. Anyways we go to Kroger that morning to get everything, and as we’re about to check out I decide I should grab a case of beer. Since you couldn’t buy beer cold in Oxford, you kinda had to plan ahead. So I come strolling up with a case and Ryan FLIPS out, yelling at me for wanting to get shit-faced for Thanksgiving Dinner. No, we’re not gay. I try to explain to him I wasn’t gonna pound it when we got home and piss all over the Pilgrims, I was just gonna have it in the fridge for later on. Doesn’t matter, he’s furious, BOOM!! We don’t say one single word to each other after that. We go through the machinations of making a huge Thanksgiving Dinner, sit down and eat it…all while aggressively not speaking to each other. No, we’re not gay. And, even better, we filmed the whole fucking thing for some reason. It’s all on videotape. You see us silently making this huge dinner, silently eating it. Our silence does not end then; it goes on for 2 solid weeks. For two weeks we pass by each other wordlessly, live next to each other in total silence. The type of simmering rage you can only have for your best friend, I suppose. No, we’re not gay. Finally at the end of two weeks I’m sitting on the couch in the living room and he strolls in to the kitchen and grabs a box of cookies. I’m not paying attention, but because of my 14-day seething rage I can tell he’s looking in the box and strapping on his “I’m fucking incredulous!!” face. Then he does the ol’ look into the box-look up at me – look back into the box – look up at me routine.
“What?” (heeey…I broke the silence!! hooray!!)
“You ate my fucking cookies!!!!”
“What?”
“You ate all my fucking cookies you fucking shit!!!” (box thrown on the floor)
‘What the – shut the fuck up, I didn’t eat you precious fucking cookies!”
“You ate my fucking cookies!!”
“I did not eat your fucking cookies fuck you!!!!”
“You fucking shit!”
“Yeah, I got your cookies, ate them all, closed the EMPTY box up, carefully put them back on the shelf and chuckled ‘ooooh, he’ll never suspect a thing!!!!’!! fucking dumbass!!!”
This went on, screaming for 2 more minutes. Finally I stormed off to my room with a big “fuck you!!” and slammed my door. After about a 10 second pause I opened the door, saw him standing in the living room and shouted “You know what? Yeah, I ate your fucking cookies! And guess what – they were fucking AWESOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” slam!!!
This of course was so ridiculous that within minutes we were on the floor laughing at our our ridiculousness. Rolling on the floor, entwined with each other in our youthfulness, young skin on young skin as we suckled each other’s neck. Okay, that was gay.
It’s been almost 11 years and Ryan, and I can confess…I have no idea what happened to your fucking cookies.
4) August 16, 1997 – the day my first girlfriend got married. Sigh. Woke up, had a bottle of gin waiting for me, guzzled. Not that it was any loss or whatever – we see each other like once every two years, we were just kids etc but I guess you gotta mourn a bit when your first love gets married; you gotta give them that much respect. I assume after I get married she’ll do the same for me. Well, if her husband gives her the go-ahead. And if she remembers I’m alive.
So Happy August 16th peoples! Maybe something noteworthy will happen today.
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