Smell That Smoke

Staying Frosty

2008-08-26T20:48:00.005-05:00

Remember this scene.

I was a huge fan of The Wire. I was addicted and could never create enough superlatives to describe my feelings. It was so raw and honest. There were really no good guys or bad guys. There were just people. And each of them was flawed. But I cared about each of them and their fictional fates. So after it ended, and I found out that its creator, David Simon, was doing a mini-series about the invasion of Iraq, I knew I was all in.

Simon's mini-series would be Generation Kill. It was based on a true story (The Wire was loosely based on factual events), so I decided familiarize myself with the source material by Evan Wright. I must have read Generation Kill in a few days. It was awesome. I loved that it took no stance on the war. It was just a look into the people who fought it and their day-to-day realities. Wright developed the characters to a point where I felt like I knew them. Ultimately, I think this is why the mini-series worked so well. It was the same direction David Simon took with The Wire - a story about people operating within a societal system. Sure it's about a controversial war, but the politics were really never the issue. It was about humanity and the people who have to go do some very bad, but necessary things. It wasn't Band of Brothers, but you know what? We don't live in a Band of Brothers world anymore. I think if you watched Kill, you probably related to the guys in First Recon. Because they're regular people just like us.

And them being just like us lead me to a bit of an epiphany as I watched. Is it fucked up the the military is as fucked as it is? OR is it fucked that American businesses/society is so fucking broken? I could empathize with the Marines because the futility of their ultimate mission and the obstacles they had to overcome mirror my 9-5 existence. Now, I would never completely compare my day-to-day experiences to those of First Recon. After all a bad day for them means death. For me it could just be a pink slip. But could we look at the parallels:

The president has decided to invade Iraq = Hello, CEO! "We need to start winning awards." "It's time to grow our business." Or any other statement that comes from echelons beyond reality.

They're rolling through the desert in busted Hummers with no armor = We've got three copiers. One of them usually works. the other two are always under repair. No one in authority seems to be upset about this.

They don't get maps on time = My creative briefs fucking suck

They don't have enough batteries for night vision = My internet at home runs faster than the shit in the office. I also have better software

They have to run a hustle to get what they need from the PX = Me trying to creatively expense shit I need from Borders or Office Max

Godfather = A guy bucking for a promotion by having the people under him make him look good - no matter what the cost. - Yeah I've worked for that guy.

Encino Man = An inept yes man - Ummm, who hasn't worked for him

Casey Kasem = An undermining, backstabber - Check

Captain America = A coward who has his fuck ups constantly covered by his subordinates - I see a trend

Lt. Fick = A competent person in a position of responsibility who can't get ahead because he won't be a part of the fucked up politics. - Do I even need to answer anymore?

And what's even funnier is I have the same amount of contempt and derision for these people and situations as the Marines (Grunts) in Generation Kill. Everyday I feel like I'm riding in the Humvee, following stupid fucking orders and going out on stupid missions. Maybe this is the true beauty of Generation Kill: It's the fact that somewhere underneath the geopolitical bullshit it's a scathing metaphor for American corporate life to which we can all relate.

Then again, I may just be an asshole.

Travel Notes Pt. 1

2008-08-26T18:02:00.008-05:00

(This post was supposed to be about TWO trips. But about halfway through this I thought this was like a reeeeeealy boring version of vacation slides. You may not give a fuck about Memphis. And you may not give a fuck about my vacations. If so, you may not want to read this. That's cool. If you just stop by for me ranting about shit, I'll get back to that soon.)

It's been a while since I've posted, and quite a bit has gone down. I had knee surgery. I was indifferent about the new GZA album. Generation Kill was the best thing on TV and ended. (This will be another post.) Michael Phelps won a bunch of medals. A lot of famous people died, including Issac Hayes and Bernie Mac. And my main man, Chris Carpenter, came and went. With so much going on, I didn't didn't know where to start. But I decided to talk about a couple of trips I took. So close your eyes, read on and imagine me as your own personal Anthony Bourdain.

At the beginning of the month I headed to Memphis. (Or as my buddy Shaw calls it: Memphrica.) For my money, Memphis is one of the most underrated places in the entire country. Great food, great nightlife and great live music. A downtown ballpark with a Cardinal affiliate doesn't hurt either. I can't ever remember having anything less than awesome time in Memphis and this trip lived up to expectations.

On Friday night, barbecue was on my mind. But Corky's and Rendezvous are ri-fucking-diculous on the weekends. So what could we do? Well, we tried a place called Superior Bar. Superior Bar is right on Beale Street in between Silky O'Sullivan's and B.B. King's. I'm not going to get all crazy and tell you that they had the best barbecue I've ever had (I'm a dry rib guy and it was too wet for my liking). But it was pretty fucking good and better than you'll get in most cities (and probably better than any thing you'll get outside of the south or a border state). If you're looking for good AC, good food and good prices hit up the Superior.

From there we went to Flying Saucer. Now I'll admit, I like Flying Saucer, but I do have one problem with it. The problem is it seems out of place. It's new and clean in a place that's old and dirty. You feel like you could be anywhere, and in a place like Memphis that's a negative. But if you like beer you'll forget that quickly. And they do sell the coolest bar shirt I've seen in awhile. It's so cool, that I picked up one for my collection.

The next day was a biggie so we headed home. Just a $10 cab ride. Did I mention Memphis is awesome?

The Next day I caught up with some old friends at The Elvis 7s Rugby Tournament. (If you only ever click on one link, click on the last one.) Despite being plagued by some of the shittiest weather anywhere, Elvis is one of the most fun tournaments around. It's Elvis, Elvis, Elvis. (That may be an album title. ) Elvis over the PA. Most of the ruggers grow side burns. There's a sideburn contest and a beehive contest. And last but not least, Elvis trivia. I've been going to this tournament since I started playing rugby (word is Priscilla and Lisa Maria came out back in the day and were frightened by the rugby crowd.) and the Blues always do a great job hosting. Plus, this year, they had bison burgers marinated in Dale's. Muthafuckin' delicious.

After showers and a few Natty Lights we were headed back to Beale. This time i demoed a rack of ribs at Blues City Cafe. This joint was a favorite of the first black president - Bill Clinton. But even that doesn't change the fact that the ribs were just adequate. My grandmother Daisy puts those fools to shame.

From the Cafe we wandered down the street and saw this dude. His name: Richard Johnston. And my man's life is straight out of a movie. Middle class white kid travels around the world. Ends up in Mississippi learning the blues from cats like R. L. Burnside and Jessie Mae Hemphill. Then some PBS, college-boy motherfucker makes a documentary about him and the rest is history. I will say this, this dude has chops. If you ever wanted to see a lo-fi version of the Black Keys check this dude out he's a real white-boy bluesman. Like Ralph Macchio in Crossroads. Plus he told everybody he was going to go drink beer if nobody wanted to dance. He said he didn't give a fuck about the money, but he did want people to SHOW they enjoyed the music. Everybody proceeded to dance. It was pretty awesome.

He was set up next to Coyote Ugly and we made the mistake of going in. I'm familiar with the concept behind Coyote Ugly. I may have even had a good time at the one in Dallas. But FUCK the one in Memphis. Do not go. It sucks. It's so shitty i won't even link it. Don't say you haven't been warned.

From there we were torn between Club 152 and the Beale street cornerstone Silky O'Sullivans. 152 had a funk band and Silky's, well, Silky's is Silky's. The group split. And I wandered with the Silky's contingent. As always Silky's was a crazy mix of locals and tourist, singles and couples and every other paradox. Met some native Memphians who had just graduated from Wash U. After we talked about the 314, Alan Gann was doling out buckets of the world famous divers. We sat, talked, drank and sweated. It was a good time.

I had a blast that weekend. If you ask me Memphis is like the Vegas of the South. Nothing but good times to be had and tourists everywhere (I say that because it's insulting to call New Orleans the _____ of anywhere.) Next time you're looking for somewhere don't forget about this vastly underrated city. And feel free to give me a call - I'm always up for some barbecue.

Are You F-ing Serious

2008-08-06T12:17:00.004-05:00

I live in what many people consider the South. It's not the Deep South, but southern enough I suppose. And as such, I work with and live around god-fearing churchgoers. Basically, I have no problems with these people. They can be a little uptight. But on the whole I find them congenial and decent. But the other day I had problem with one of my decent, upright co-workers.

You see, I'm about as profane and as inappropriate as they come. I've spent a lifetime socializing and bonding with athletes, so almost anything goes. Most of my co-workers accept this as a fact of life and don't try to censor me. (I even work with an ordained youth minister who listens to my tirades with glee. After all, a few bad words probably aren't going to get me sent to hell.) But here's what I hear the other day:

Co-Worker 1: Man, I'm so F-ing/Effing tired of the client pulling this B.S.

Co worker 2: You know, I think I'm going start "letter swearing."

Letter swearing, as far as I can figure, is saying you're tired of f-ing B.S. And as far as I'm concerned it, "letter swearing" that is, fucking bullshit! I look at both of my co-workers and lay this on them.

Me: You know, if you're intent is the same, not saying the word is no less offensive. It's just a word. The intent is the problem.

Everyone in the room stops and looks and contemplates starting an argument with a writer. I can see the wheels grinding. So I continue.

Me; It's not like we don't F means fuck. We're not four years old. Really, if you're concerned with not offending people you just shouldn't swear at all.

Silence.

Co-worker 2: I guess you're right, but it's a little less harsh.

Me: Then why use a harsh word in the first place?

Silence.

Well, dear readers, I'm sure you agree with me. But I'm a chronic line crosser. So I continue.

Me: Would you ever say look at all of those f-ing N-s standing on the corner? Is that any less harsh? Is it okay to tell some lady to suck your f-ing D?

Me: If you don't want to be harsh, don't even imply. I'm just saying.

Co-Worker 1: Ok. Let's just move on.

If you happen to know a letter swearer tell them to get fucking real. Cut the fucking shit. And quit acting like a goddamned pussy. We all know what they mean. Just fucking say it.

Like my mom used to say, it's not what you say, it's how you say it.

Cleared For Takeoff

2008-08-06T12:08:00.005-05:00

Back in college I used to tell my friends, "If I could dunk, I wouldn't even talk to you." For some reason everybody wants to be able to do it. It's a strange phenomenon. But before I end up plagiarizing this entire post from Deadspin, I'll just leave you with the following link.

I especially enjoyed numbers 3, 12 and 13.

A List

2008-08-06T11:58:00.005-05:00

My buddy posted his to top 20 albums on his blog. He asked me to come up with a list as well. Here's my list with the comments from his blog. I posted it because I wrote it. And maybe there's something you, dear reader, may want to check out. Please remember, I'm no Chuck Klosterman.

Jeff, you asked for it so, being me I gave you my 25 with the cheesy iTunes store commentary. I swear if you asked me tomorrow, I'd give you a different list. Without further ado.

1. Alice In Chains – Dirt – An album about addiction. Makes you feel like you walked out of a crack house.

2. … And You Will Know Us BY The Trail of Dead – Source Tags & Codes – If there’s a studio album that can capture the energy of a live performance this is it.

3. Black Flag – Damaged – The sound of the streets before we listened to hip-hop.

4. Black Sabbath – Paranoid – A band on fire. War Pigs is timeless. Planet Caravan is surprising

5. Guns N’ Roses - Appetite For Destruction – Where did this come from? I didn’t know when it came out. I do know now.

6. John Coltrane – A Love Supreme – I try not to use the word genius. It’s overused. But this is genius.

7. Led Zeppelin – Led Zeppelin – I love them all. I chose this one because it’s the closest to their roots. Not that I don’t really believe that Robert Plant digs The Lord of the Rings.

8. Metallica – Ride The Lightning – Even dirtbags need heroes. Not a bad song in the bunch. Die by my hand!

9. N.W. A. – Straight Outta Compton – If these guys played punk, they would have been Black Flag.

10. Nine Inch Nails – The Downward Spiral – A total buzzkill. And I mean that in a good way. It's sonically delicious.

11. Nirvana – Nevermind – Is this album overrated? Probably. Is it awesome? No doubt.

12. The Notorious B.I.G. – Ready To Die – It just grooves and touches your inner mack daddy. An MC with skills riding Puffy’s samples for all they are worth.

13. Pixies – Doolittle – I could have picked any one of the first three albums. This one is probably the best from top to bottom.

14. The Police – Ghost In The Machine – My favorite album by my first favorite band.

15. Portishead – Dummy – I’d never heard anything like. And to be honest, I haven’t heard anything like it since.

16. The Pretenders – Learning To Crawl – An odd choice. But it really is a great album. I promise. Give it a listen.

17. Public Enemy – It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back – Back when hip-hop was about more than bling and bitches. PE always made you think.

18. Queens Of The Stone Age – Songs For The Deaf – I don’t know how these guys aren't the biggest band on earth. This is the most even thing they’ve made.

19. Slayer –Seasons In The Abyss – 42 minutes of fury. Sometimes being groundbreaking is overrated. Sometimes you just need to master your craft.

20. Sleater-Kinney – The Woods – Let me be sexist for a moment. These chicks rock. And this album rocks more than any other chick album.

21. Smashing Pumpkins – Siamese Dream – A perfect album for a perfect time of my life.

22. Sonic Youth – Sonic Nurse – Noise rock is cool. Sonic Youth pulling to together a melodic album is a surprise. I could listen to it any time.

23. The Stooges – Fun House – Raw Rock n’ Roll. How many people have ripped this off? Might as well lisyen to the real deal.

24. Van Halen – Van Halen – Sounds like junior high. The soundtrack for stinky fingers and bare breasts.

25. Wu-Tang Clan – Enter The Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) – RZA produced. A plethora of quality MCs. An alternate to taking one of the many great solo albums to come after. This. RZA, GZA, Method Man, Ol’ Dirty Bastard, Ghostface Killa. Wow.

An Ode To Old: Praising Membership In The 13th Generation

2008-07-26T15:20:00.006-05:00

This is something I've been thinking about posting for a few weeks. I even went so far as to write a post and trash it. I felt like I was being a bit of a snob and I felt like I was turning in to one of those shitty old people. You know, the back-in-my-day kind of old people. After a lot of thought, I think I may have found a way to express myself that would make me seem like less of a pompous ass. But after much soul searching, I think it may be impossible to not become a back-in-my-day type of person.

TWO TRUE STORIES

Pt. I

PLACE: A Hallway, Saatchi & Saatchi Building, lower Manhattan

20-something Hipster Art Director: You know, I need to get some Black Sabbath.

Me: I love Sabbath. They're one of my favorites.

20-something Hipster Art Director: Somebody was playing them at this party the other night. They sounded really cool.

Me: Fuck yeah they're cool. I've got some in my iTunes. I'll hook you up!

20-something Hipster Art Director: Cool. I'm excited

Pt. II

PLACE: My Desk, Saatchi & Saatchi Building, Springdale, AR

20-something Stuff White People Like Art Director: Hey, are you going to that meeting?

Me: I guess. I really need...

20-something Stuff White People Like Art Director: What are you listening to?

Me: The Stooges. Fun House.

20-something Stuff White People Like Art Director: Hmm. They sound like Spoon.

Me: (laughing) They sound like Spoon? You know that was Iggy Pop's band before he went solo? The Stooges get a lot of credit for influencing punk. (more laughter)

20-something Stuff White People Like Art Director: Fuck you. I can't help it I'm not old. Who listens to this shit?

Me: Well you're not old enough to have listened to the Beatles either. But if I had played them, you would have known who it was.

Neither one of these stories has anything to do with my musical knowledge or taste. I just thought it was funny how two people who are around the same age had no knowledge of two relatively mainstream and important bands. I was prepared to mock them for this and then I thought about it. The reason I know about these bands is because in the 80s (and late 70s) we didn't have Internet. Or satellite TV or radio. As a matter of fact when we got cable we only had about 25 stations. I didn't start listening to Sabbath because they were cool, I listened because that's what KSHE-95 played. The fact that they were cool was an added bonus.

As I pondered the situation more I started to realize how lucky I am/was. I think about all of the cool stuff I was exposed to just because of when I was born. During my formative years Pop Culture as we know it today, didn't exist. Electronic Media, besides radio, hadn't been around that long. Think about it. In 1980, people had gotten their first TV 25-30 years earlier. You didn't have vast collections of movies, music, or fuck, anything. Instead of watching Nickelodeon I was watching the Beverly Hillbillies, Bewitched and Speed Racer. When I stayed up late, I saw Benny Hill and The Honeymooners. All classics. I'm lucky I couldn't log on to MySpace and find some new band to hold my interest for two weeks. That means I was stuck with Zeppelin, Sabbath and Hendrix. I knew those albums backwards ands forwards. I knew the track NAMES not just numbers. (God help me, I don't even know the numbers now.) And when the time was right, I was the perfect age for Nirvana and the "alternative" explosion. (This could be an entirely different post)

Because people my age didn't have a ton of options, we made more of what we had. New music wasn't just iTunes away. You couldn't go to Best Buy and grab the latest movies or TV shows on DVD. You were in the moment. It was good, but it was bad too. You were exposed to a lot of crap, and didn't have a choice. (Unless you wanted to go outside. What a novel concept.) I mean for every time I wax nostalgic about watching The Clash on MTV I could mention four or five bands like Krokus. It was not all good times. And now that I live in Fayette-Nam, I'm glad those days are gone. But I'm also really glad I lived through them. I think it's sad people who like cool things don't have a sense of history. I think it's sad that we've given ourselves so many choices that we can miss out on so many good things. I think it's sad people don't know what they're missing.

My hair is greying, my right knee is shot and my vision is getting bad. But 38 years old seems right on time to me.

Epilogue

Pt. III

PLACE: My Desk, Saatchi & Saatchi, Springdale, AR

Via iChat

I notice a friend from our New York office has logged on. His new chat icon: Frederick "Rerun" Stubbs.

Me: Hey, hey, hey! What's happening!

Mid-Thirties Art Director: Haha. I can't believe you know that one.

Me: Shit, I'm old school, brother.

Mid-Thirties Art Director: Yeah, I mentioned H.R. Puffinstuff the other day. These kids looked at me like I'm crazy. They don't know about shit.

Me: Amen to that, brother.

A Curious Photo

2008-07-26T14:49:00.003-05:00

The other day I was reading an article about MLB Turn Ahead The Clock promotions. Apparently, the Mariners came up with the idea in '97. (MLB followed suit in '98 and it was fucking horrible.) Ken Griffey Jr. was a Mariner at the time and was very involve in some of the executional details. The article included the picture above. And maybe it's just me, but I had a bunch of questions.

Is that a real tattoo? Or is it just something Griffey added for the game?

If it's real, did anybody besides friends and family know Griff had a monstrous tattoo?

Who's silhouette is that? Is it Griff?

If it is real, and if it is indeed his (Griff's) silhouette, how crazy is that?
A) Is it Starbury logo on the head crazy?
B) Is it Steve-O self-portrait, back-piece crazy?
C) Is it even crazy? Or is it just crazy conceited?
D) Is it just plain cool?

If Michael Jordan had a Jumpman tattoo would that be cool? And how would that relate to somebody else biting his shit? (i.e. Marbury, Griffey, et al.)

Normally I'm decisive. But here, well, I'm just confused. The questions are endless.

Pour Some Out...

2008-06-23T18:35:00.007-05:00

George Carlin died yesterday. And I won't dishonor him by attempting to write a eulogy. People far more capable and qualified have been doing that all day. I just want to say I'm sad that there's a world with out him. Carlin exemplified the sort of honesty I wish more people had. He was fearless, scathing and genuine. He called out the bullshit and hypocrisy in the world. In this little section of cyberspace, I hope I can be a millionth as thought provoking as he was at his best. Raise a forty and let a little flow for a legend.

Inspired Writing

2008-06-22T22:47:00.004-05:00

I love the fact that at least 45% of all NFL players are completely insane. Bill Romanowski, Adam Jones (you're welcome Pacman), Nate Newton just to name a few. Honestly, what the fuck would would these morons do if they had to find real jobs? Anyway, Joey Porter is as crazy as they come. The year the Steelers won the Super Bowl they played Denver in Denver. Joey Porter went nuts about getting shot in Denver. Notice how everybody just rolls with crazy Joey. Well, somebody else think Joey is crazy and it's pretty damned funny. Enjoy.

Catching Up

2008-06-18T14:25:00.003-05:00

As I write this, I'm spending time with an old friend - Donita Sparks. I'm listening to the new Donita Sparks & The Stellar Moments album Transmiticate. I loved, and I do mean LOVED L7. I had the pleasure of seeing them live and meeting them several times. (One time they all even signed the organ donor section of my driver's license.) Somewhere along the way, I acquired a schoolboy's crush on sweet, sweet Donita. (Her sweetness is up for debate. She did, after all, pull a tampon from her twat and hurl at a crowd at the Reading Festival. In her defense they were throwing mud at the band.) So Imagine my surprise when I found out she had a solo album. It seemed to be a no brainer purchase. Here are my thoughts:

If you liked L7, you'll dig Transmiticate. It's not as hard nor is it as in your face as L7, but it definitely comes from the same place. Donita's voice is front and center and L7's drummer Dee is there to hold things together. All in all, it's a lot like catching up with real old friend. You hang out catch up on what's new (Really, man I can't believe _____ is seven years old already) and then reminisce about the old times* (Remember, that time you body slammed that chick in Vegas?). In the end, you're happy for the time together and look forward to the next meeting. I've recently had the same kind of encounter with Black Francis and Kim Deal. And you know what? It's good to know that old friends won't let you down. Thanks, Donita. I hope to hear from you again soon.

*The memory I'll always have is of L7 playing The Other World in St. Louis. The Other World was the perfect place - A world-class shit hole before Washington Avenue went upscale. The type of place where you EXPECTED your car to be broken into and you were rarely disappointed. The type of place where you walked up five flights of stairs, past all of the shit that was unfit/unsafe for the public to get to the club that made you truly wonder how much worse the stuff you walked past could really be. Me, my boy Byington and Cassie Christian before she married Tim. (Not to mention Cassie's friend who really, really wanted to have sex with somebody.) Shitlist, Andres, Broomstick - Donita, Suzy, Dee and Gail ripped through a set. The crowd bounced like meth heads and at one point I thought the floor was going to cave in. That's not hyperbole. The floor was literally swaying in a building too old to have an elevator. It was November but is must have been 90 degrees in that place. Maybe a Tuesday or Wednesday night. The right band. The right venue. The right time - when downtown StL had edge. As one of my friends said, "None of this is fit for decent white people." Man , I miss those days.

This Kills Me

2008-06-15T14:24:00.001-05:00

Sorry the old one didn't work. Try this.

Pay it forward

2008-06-12T17:55:00.003-05:00

I grew up in St. Louis. And you know, it always seemed like a nice, friendly place. But I suppose most people in this country grew up in nice, friendly places. Don't get me wrong there were bad neighborhoods and dirtbags., but all in all, it seemed like a good place with good people. I'm sure if you look at where you grew up, you'd feel the same way.

So tell me when the world became populated with fucking assholes. You know who I'm talking about. Cell phone abusers, self-righteous aggro hippies, crybabies and every other kind of self-centered shit stain that makes every trip out of your house unpleasant. For a while now, I thought it was me. I thought that I scrutinized people too harshly. Because, honestly, I have very little tolerance for bullshit or its perpetrators. But imagine how relieved I was to find out it wasn't just me. And I've got to think the rest of the nice people from places are just as exasperated.

Ahh... kindred spirits.

Maybe we've reached critical mass. Maybe we've gotten to the point where people don't know how to be polite and considerate. Maybe it's perfectly acceptable to hold up the flight because you want to shove your steamer trunk in to the overhead. After all, fuck everybody else, the $25 to check it is coming out of YOUR pocket. That's means you're entitled to tell everybody on the way to Raleigh, NC and points beyond to kiss your royal irish ass.

But, what if we (you and I dear reader) decided to start calling people out for their indiscretions. Could we actually make people think about how their actions affect others? Imagine being in an express line at the grocery store.*

Lady At Grocery Store: That was marked $3.59 not $3.99.

Checker: Ma'am I'll need to find a stocker to check it.

(five minutes later a stocker arrives. three minutes later he comes back with $3.99 as the price)

Lady At Grocery Store: Okay, that's not how that was marked. I need to talk with your manager.

Checker: Yes, ma'am.

(stocker goes to find manager.)

You: Ma'am, I'll give you the 40 cents.

Lady At Grocery Store: It's not the money it's the principle. It was mis-marked.

You: That may be the case, but I'm on my way to the baseball game. I just stopped in to grab some beers. That's why I got in the express. Just trying to catch the opening pitch**

Lady At Grocery Store: Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think about this being the express lane. You know what, I'll just pay for my groceries so I don't hold everyone up. I can talk to the manager after I check out. It is only 40 cents.***

You: Thanks. I really appreciate it.

Lady At Grocery Store: (smiles) Go Cards!

Wouldn't the world be a better place? So consider this your Project Mayhem homework. Start calling these inconsiderate fucks out. And just because I call them inconsiderate fucks doesn't mean you have to be rude. Hell, kill 'em with kindness, if you like. (I recommend an adaptive style. Calling some one a cocksucker because they didn't turn their phone off at a christening may be a little much. On the other hand it seems to work nicely at a bar.) Maybe we can make people's days a little brighter. Or maybe, just maybe, I'm an asshole too.

*This is based on actual events.

** In St. Louis, this is an acceptable excuse for anything short of first-degree murder.

*** In reality, she told me that wasn't her problem. (Which it wasn't) So then I audibly said "fucking unbelievable." And told the girl behind me "I couldn't believe this shit." This was followed by one of my buddies coming in for smokes observing the situation and declaring "this bitch is out of her mind." Not my finest hour. But we were on our way to the ballgame.

The Real Deal

2008-06-02T21:52:00.005-05:00

(In the interest of full disclosure, I must admit I'm an unapologetically HUGE baseball fan. It is by far my favorite sport. I watch from opening day to the last out of the Series. Most people find the game boring. But most people don't read books either. So take their opinions for what they are worth. My Cards are are on the table.)

Everyone is entitled to their opinion no matter how stupid it is. But when it comes to sports I feel like people love to become narrow minded. Sports are very emotional and that means rational thinking goes straight out of the window. For example, people talk about how long baseball games are, but what they don't mention is football games are every bit as long. (Three hours. I swear. You can time it.) AND they have commercial breaks every four and half minutes. Watch a game with no prolonged drives. It's unbearable. Punt. Commercial. Three and out. Punt. Commercial. Repeat. But this is another post all together.

Anyway, if I were a better blogger, I would have told you 8 weeks ago about the best playoffs in all of sports - The Stanley Cup playoffs. I don't care if you're black or white, 8 or 80, blind, cripple or crazy you have to admit this. It is nonnegotiable and not up for argument. This is a time when you ARE NOT entitled to your ridiculous opinion. You stupidity would be a travesty akin to arguing who was the best Bond or the perfect temperature for a steak (medium rare - I don't give a fuck if you don't like blood.). It's only acceptable to have a differing opinion if you've never watched the Stanley Cup playoffs. Maybe reading this will get you in the spirit to watch next April. Or maybe it will inspire you to come up with an argument against this. If so, go ahead, we all know you can't fix stupid. Without further ado -

Why The Stanley Cup Playoffs Are The Shit

1. Lord Stanley's Cup
Every man to ever play on a team that has won the Cup has his name on the trophy. And they've been playing for it longer than there has been an NHL. It is the game's history. Not a championship they made up. (Hello, Super Bowl!) And every player gets the Cup for a day - to do whatever he wants. 'Nuff said.

2. You Get Knocked Down, You Get Up
No flopping in hockey. This is the sport with the Gordie Howe Hat Trick. Flopping would probably cause your teammates to beat that ass. Yeah you, Tony "Bitch Ass" Parker. You've been put on notice.

3. Picking Up Pace
Unlike other sports where the post season is status quo (you run what you brung, although, I admit, with higher intensity), the NHL speeds up. Less holding, fewer penalties and no fights. It's a skill game in the spring. Imagine the Lakers running nothing but fast breaks or the Giants throwing bombs exclusively. Welcome to playoff hockey! Speaking of pace, they play EVERY OTHER DAY for two months. Name another sport that has that kind of grind. The NBA playoffs start at the same time and last two weeks longer.

4. Playoff Beards
These guys are rocking busted teeth, black eyes and nappy beards - and proud of it. No GQ cover boys. No media circuses about sprained ankles or supermodel girlfriends. No pitchers banging Alyssa Milano. Beards, balls and business it's the hockey way.

5. No Crybabies Or Pussies
Hey Timmy Duncan, un-bug your eyes and play ball. T.O., shut the fuck up and run your fucking route. And Schilling, you pitched with a sore ankle - boo-hoo. All these guys do is skate and grind. No arguing calls. No histronics. This spring, I watched a guy with an already broken nose get hit in the face with a puck... and stay in the game. I mean he left the ice to stop the bleeding walking, like a man. Nothing like this. I'm just saying.

6. PRIDE
Most guys in the NHL never dreamt about being millionaires or superstars. I mean, they knew they could make a living playing a game they loved, but hockey is different. Most of the guys come from countries where hockey is the national pastime. And The two biggest things in hockey are the Stanley Cup and Olympic gold. Every great player plays for his nation. The NHL stops the season for the olympics. These guys consider it an honor to play for their countries, not a burden. And every guy want his name on Lord Stanley's Cup too. It's the greatest achievement in the game. And it's the best tournament in sports.

Have A Sip of Hater-Ade

2008-03-22T18:13:00.003-05:00

There are things in this world that are just wrong. And those things deserve your contempt. A short list would include: Notre Dame; peodphiles; Boston sports; The Man and Duke. Take time to rejoice. Today a blow has been struck for the good guys. This almost makes up for the fact that it's the first Saturday of the Tourney and my bracket is busted. Temporarily, all is right in the world. (By the way, I picked WVU to beat Duke.)

I'm Telling You

2008-03-22T12:30:00.000-05:00

You're not going to want to miss this. Trust me.

WTF, MTV?

2008-03-22T11:02:00.003-05:00

(Full Disclosure: Despite the fact that I'm a grown-ass man, I do watch MTV. I'm of the age where MTV actually meant something. I watched Headbangers Ball, 120 Minutes and World Premiere videos with fervor. Not to mention MTV was responsible for one of the greatest Saturdays of my young adult life. Nirvana - live, the same day the played SNL for the first time. Awesome. Don't hate me cause I'm Gen X.)

Back in January I was watching the Real World/Road Rules Challenge on MTV. I love the show because it takes me back to my younger days when me and the roomies would sit and watch the Real World and talk about all the ass we could get with a house like that. The Real World is the ideal show because nobody wants drama in their lives, but everybody loves to watch the shit hit the fan with somebody else. During a commercial break, I walked into my kitchen to get something to drink. As I'm digging through fridge, I hear the Bad Brains. What? No fucking way! Why in the fuck would the Bad Brains be coming out of my TV? This isn't right. This is good, non-mainstream music coming out of my TV while it's tuned to MTV. I watch, the spot ends and the show the following link. Sure as shit, the Bad Brains have attained the "buzzworthy" moniker. I guess after almost 30 years they've built up some BUZZ.

After a couple of days, I didn't know how to feel about what I'd seen. I sort of felt as though MTV was trying to make themselves cool. You know, like the people who work at the independent records stores, the ones who laugh when you buy the Daughtry CD. And MTV, it's sad to say, isn't that cool anymore. Then I feel like H.R. may have incurred some hefty weed debt and is just doing what a brother needs to do to get his smoke on. I just don't know what to think. So I talk to a buddy, and he says Bad Brains aren't selling out, they cashing in. (And really what's more punk than taking The Man's money and doing what the fuck you please?) Then we discuss the fact that MTV corporate, we're sure, is populated by douchebags and tools. And whoever selected Bad Brains was one of "us," subversively sticking it to The Man. This makes me feel better and I go back to my regularly scheduled life.

A few weeks later, I'm watching RWRR Challenge again, Coral is laying down the law in a very small shirt. After she gets all "street" with somebody it's time for a commercial break. Despite I'm watching on DVR, I'm still watching promos and commercials. All of a sudden it happens. Is that Cornell West and Ludacris talking about Black History Month. Fucking Ludacris?!?! Don't get me wrong, I like Ludacris and all, but why in the world are he and Cornell West telling me about Black History month. I don't need to hear about The Struggle from the same man that wrote this. Was Maya Angelou busy? Was Bill Russell pissed about something? I mean why was this happening? Then at the end I find out why. The Buzz Bin strikes again.

As upset as I got in both instances, I was kind of happy somebody at MTV hasn't given up on telling "the kids" about cool stuff. I feel the same way when I look at the playlist on Guitar Hero. Somebody out there is trying, and that's good. So I guess I want to give big ups to the person/people at MTV trying to make the world a little cooler. Now start playing some fucking videos.

Pour Some Out For...

2008-02-26T01:00:00.001-06:00

Johnny Cash. The man in black would have been 78 today.

Tiger Woods, Y'all

2008-02-24T18:52:00.007-06:00

I just got the Planet Earth series on DVD. After watching about five minutes of it, I was humbled. The HD footage is amazing! But in just a couple of minutes I realized what a enormous and fascinating place or world is. I realized how much there is that I haven't seen, and how much there is that I'll never see - no matter how hard I try. Maybe I was just in a place where deep thought was easily attained, but it was one of those things I won't forget.

Now, I know you may be asking, what does all of this have to do with Eldrick Tiger Woods? Like deserts, or mountains, or oceans, Tiger is something/one that should be appreciated. This week Tiger won his sixth straight tour event. It was also his eighth win in his last nine outings. It was a match-play event so each round was head-to-head against another golfer. Tiger came from waaay behind to win. Tiger won a close one. And Tiger demolished people as only he can. He won in every fashion that he could have conceivably won. My man was dropping birdies like O'Shea Jackson used to drop rhymes. (Go ahead and pour some out for Cube's "hardcore" rap career.) He's playing the best golf of his career right now. And could be the first golfer to ever win the Grand Slam.

I'll stop slurping Tiger long enough to make a point: In life, we all aspire towards excellence in something. And right now Tiger is putting the very thing we aspire towards on display. You may not be a sports fan, and if you are, you may not care for golf. But do yourself a favor on a weekend, take a few hours and watch the most dominant athlete in sports ply his trade. Watch him overcome the courses and the fields and march into history. Even if you don't know a driver from a wedge, you'll see the beauty in his game. You'll hear him make galleries roar. You'll see him make grown men quake. You'll see things on a golf course that have never been seen before.

After all, there are a lot of amazing things in this world. And it would be ashame for you to miss an easy opportunity to see one of them.

A Glass of Heaven

2008-02-22T00:09:00.006-06:00

Since moving to Arkansas I've refound an appreciation for beer. (But I can still enjoy a dozen or so Natty Lights in Forest Park.) People here are beer snobs! Whoda thunk? Every once in a while something is just too good not to mention. My beer of the moment, Bell's Two Hearted Ale.

It's a big IPA from Comstock, MI. (It's near Kalamazoo in case you were wondering.) Hoppy but not just for the sake of hops. I think you would call it a beer drinker's beer. If you get a chance, give it a try. But be warned this is real beer. Three of the might make you want to take a nap. Six might make you goofy. Enjoy at your at your own risk, as I'm doing right now.

It's good to know Michigan produces something besides hot lesbians.

Shamed Back In

2008-02-21T23:43:00.002-06:00

Or you could say I was inspired. My dear friends, Michelle and Jeff, are currently making their ways through the blogosphere, making all of us smile and contemplate our existences. They reminded me of my blog. The one I hadn't posted on in almost two years.

Yes, indeed. I'm a slack motherfucker. But no more. I'm back. Back like bad Chinese. Back like shitty 80s music being ripped off by shittier new bands.

And to Michelle and Jeff, I can only say thank you.

The Real Scent of A Woman

2006-06-30T20:41:00.000-05:00

Being relatively unemployed has its pluses and minuses. As you can probably imagine, having the folding money that makes life a joy is one of those minuses. However free time and satellite television are certainly a plus. For example, during the month of June, I must have watched Batman Returns on HBO roughly 68 times. (I’ve watched it so much that I realize that Morgan Freeman’s character, Lucius Fox, would have to be an idiot to not realize Bruce Wayne is Batman. The whole car chase with the Tumbler/Batmobile would have been the elephant in the room.) This fact begins to seem pathetic after I realize that I own the Batman Begins DVD. But I digress.

The other movie I viewed multiple times was Scent of A Woman. Scent of A Woman is notable and or enjoyable for several reasons. A pre-fame Phillip Seymour Hoffman plays an unlikable rich kid \(as role he’d repeat in Talented Mr. Ripley). Al Pacino made his debut on a little show I like to call Overacting Theater. (Whoo-ah, anyone.) And the Thanksgiving dinner scene that reminds me of every awkward, drunken and dysfunctional familial moment of my own. But despite all of that I can’t get past what a fucking pussy Chris O’Donnell is.

His character, Charlie, is soft like church music. I mean this is a pussy being bullied by pussies. Isn’t he supposed to be from Oregon? Didn’t he have some lumberjack kid kicking his ass like four times a week? Would he really let a bunch of rich kids threaten him? Trust me I grew up around rich kids and the mere mention of violence makes 85 percent of them piss on their Pradas. It just rings false to me. He’s a kid from a blue collar family – I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to take a lot of shit. Yeah, he’s away from home, he’s young and he’s probably a little shy so maybe I can see it. But still I blame Chris O’Donnell. (Inherently most contemporary actors can only play one type of role. This is why George Clooney is always dashing, Leonardo DiCaprio is always fucking crazy and Johnny Depp is always weird. There just aren’t any Oliviers out there.) In order to play Charlie as that much of a pussy O’Donnell must really be a pussy. You just can’t fake this level of candy assness. Ultimately it’s my problem. I just can’t stand pussies. It’s something within my DNA. I know you’re thinking: “Dude, he’s acting.” But let’s look at the facts.

There’s the aforementioned Scent of a Woman. Then there’s In Love and War where O’Donnell plays Ernest Hemingway… wait for it, wait for it… in Love. I shit you not. O’Donnell plays the least masculine portrayal of Hemingway… EVER. I mean when you think Hemingway you think about drunken nights, bullfights, hunting trips, and swallowing a shotgun shell. You do not think about puppy dog eyes and sweaty palms. How’d you like that on your resume. “Hmmm… Let’s see you played Hemingway like a lovelorn bitch? You’re hired.” And then there’s Batman and Robin were George Clooney plays the dashing Bruce Wayne (see what I mean) and O’Donnell plays a Robin so sensitive that he makes Burt Ward (who portrayed Robin on the TV show) seem like Clint Eastwood. But don’t take my word for it. Batman and Robin will be on in 45 minutes – right after Scent of Woman.

The Real Scent of A Woman

2006-06-30T20:39:00.000-05:00

My Girl is Getting Her Grass Mowed by her Ex.

2006-06-09T14:53:00.001-05:00

Here I sit. On the couch... in the AC. I'm contemplating a trip to the store for a nice 1.5 inch thick piece of heaven. Strip or Porterhouse? Life is good. But as I look out of the window I have nothing but contempt. Out of the window is the lawn. It's mowed, but not edged. Most people would be happy. I'm not. You see, my girlfriend, the Hellcat, lets her ex cut the grass.

He's a great guy and he lives pissing-distance away. I should be happy. This is one less thing for me to do. But I can't be happy. Because he's satisfying MY woman. She sees the grass and smiles. He may as well be tapping the ass by the way she acts. She throws it in my face. He's dependable in ways I'm not she says. While she says this the sound gets turned down. I'm ready for a full-on "Tommy Gavin." I'm too much Man too let Hellcat's ex cut the grass! Kill. Hate. Destroy. Feel The Rage pump through my veins. I want to go outside and scream. Then rip down the neighbors rainbow flag. Then pillage. Then listen too Ted Nugent. But suddenly I realize it's hot and it's just fucking grass.

Maybe I'll have some creamed spinach with my steak. Life is good.