BTW, LOL, TTYL!

I need to apologize for the manner in which my entries have been particularly all over the place lately. Unfortunately, this trend is to continue, at least for today.

Sports
I shot a 66 on Saturday....on 9 holes.

Played tennis yesterday with a buddy who didn't even know how to keep score. I lost.

I read something about Joe Torre's job being in jeopardy because of an abominable April. This is ludicrous. While he has made some odd calls- like pitching Pettite out of the bullpen- you cannot blame the Yankee skipper for the way injuries and inexperience have decimated the performance of their pitching staff. Until his bullpen outing this weekend, Igawa had been nothing short of horrific. And while this past month has been a difficult pill to swallow, we must remember; it's still April. With any amount of luck, Mussina and Wang return to form and Hughes will be up to the task. Some quality starts from them and Pettite will put less pressure on their shaky bullpen. Despite what some would have you believe, Mariano Rivera's problems are rooted in a lack of control and frequent mistake pitches (cut fastballs without the late movement we have come to expect), and not in a decline in velocity. I think he'll come around. He just needs to work through some kinks. If anyone has the makeup to shake out of a funk like this, it's Mo.

The Yankees have lost 8 of their last 9. Of these 9 games, they've held a lead in all but one. They have used at least 5 pitchers in 10 straight games.

If you are a Patriots' fan, I do not know how you are not excited about the Randy Moss acquisition. This should easily put the Patriots over the top, making them Super bowl favorites going into next season. I don't even know what they did with the draft.....but I'm not really sure it matters. Merloni, Brady, Watson, Stallworth, Moss. That's scary.

I received a text message while I was in the car, heading back to Charlestown from my atrocious golf outing, when I received a text message from a friend; "Should we take Brady Quinn?"

A storm of confusion and wonder swept over me.

Should we take Brady Quinn? Brady Quinn has fallen far enough for the Giants to have a shot at him? Is this a joke? How could this happen?... We don't need him. We've got Eli Manning. We've got Eli Manning. We've got Eli Manning. We've got Eli Manning. Yes, we should take Brady Quinn!

Given time to think, I'm glad the Giants addressed their woeful secondary instead. A big, physical corner, supposedly Aaron Ross' only shortcoming is recovery speed.

Miami, in particular, will come to regret passing on Brady Quinn. Miami, stuck with a new coach, an injury plagued Daunte Culpepper, opted instead for Ted Ginn Jr. Big mistake.

Music
I've been through my new Wolf Parade (not to be mistaken for Wolfmorther or Wolf Eyes) album twice in the last two days. It's fantastic. Not an album that takes time and effort getting into. Effortless. I'll have to spend more time trying to come up with a way to articulate their sound.

Fact or Fiction?

Why have we become, as a society, so interested in the facts? Everything's gotta be factual. NO room for half truths. Give me a break.

I was discussing Wikipedia with some friends recently. They had nothing but bad things to say about it.

"No, no, never use it!" they urged. Demanded even. With veins popping out of their foreheads. "You never know what sort of lies or inaccuracies could be intertwined with already fabricated or exhaggerated details."

I would like to direct you to the following analogy:

Wikipedia is like having a friend that knows a little bit about everything. Sure, you don't go to him for a detailed analysis of anything, but in terms of a broad stroke general idea, there's not really much harm in it. - A Scholar Once Said

Would I include Wikipedia in a bibliography or a works cited page if I were in graduate school? Absolutely not. But if I want to know the difference between whole foods and organic foods, or the bassist's name in a band I barely know, or the origins of Beirut/Beer Pong, or a detailed account of the developments of ethnic conflicts currently boiling over in the Middle East, well why the hell not Wikipedia? The real beauty of the whole thing is; I only have to look in one place. Don't know the answer? Wiki-fucking-pedia motherfucker!

Unless you're in school. Yah see, i'm not in school, so I'm not stricken with the burden of proof shit that seems to hold up oh so many scholars. Suckers.

Is Wikipedia inherantly bad because it bills itself as an encyclopedia when it is not comprised entirely of confirmed facts? I say no. Are we even sure there is such a thing as fact? How does one confirm fact as fact? And don't even get me started on the scientific method! One man's tragedy is another man's triumph. Another man's rainy day is some woman's holiday. What? Am I making myself clear?

I just bought a bunch of music, namely; Bloc Party, LCD Soundsystem, Explosions in the Sky, Arcade Fire, and Wolf Parade. So I have that to look forward to.

Last week I had something to look forward to. A bunch of friends and I met up in Connecticut for a barbecue, whiffle ball, and Polish horseshoes (great game).

Caught up in the moment that was our first team at-bat, I got overexcited, took my shirt off, and demanded that the rest of my team go "skins" as well. This is something we used to do whenever possible in college. Textbook regression I suppose. Mussolini took a picture. I didn't think much of it at the time....

Until a couple hours later when I happened upon Mussolini and Emily laughing hysterically and looking at the "skins" picture. I grabbed the camera. It was pretty obscene. I'm a tub of shit. I need to make some lifestyle changes. Seriously. Things could be worse though. One of my buddies has boobs. I look bad. He looks awful.

Just the same, it was rude of Mussollini to have a laugh at the expense of my mush body, no?

Speaking of Rudeness......
Yesterday, after work, I went for a bike ride along the Charles River. As I went to pass a dude running in the right hand lane, he spit off to his left. Some of his loogy landed on my chin. Once again, I bore the brunt of a blatant disregard for etiquette.

When you're running on a crowded path with two lanes that operate just like traffic, you spit to the right, not the left. In spitting to the left you run the risk of spitting into oncoming runners and cyclists or, in my situation, a cyclist trying to pass.

Usually, opportunities like this come and go and I find myself lamenting my inaction only hours later having had the time to choreograph what I should have done or said. I'm not sure if it was a heightened awareness brought about by my elevated heart rate or what, but this time I was prepared.

I slowed down, enough so that the runner almost caught up with me, turned around and spit at him. I didn't keep my head turned around long enough to see if I connected. I can only tell you he mumbled something incredulously.

"Eye for an eye!" I sang to myself as I continued on. I'm pretty sure that, in addition to serving as the centerpiece of Hammurabi's code, it's part of a Sepultura song.... Nope, just google'd it. It's Soulfly. Who the hell is Soulfly?

Ok, so I didn't really sing "Eye for an eeeeeyyyeeee!" as I rode away. The rest of this blog is true.....besides the part about me spitting back at that asshole. I Monday morning quarterbacked that part.

(A friend of mine hates when people make statements, add a comma and a "no?" and turn them into questions. It's his birthday on Saturday, no? I'm obsessed with it now. Everyone say Happy Birthday to Eric, no?)

Nappy Headed Hos

Primarily because of a vast generational gap, I've always ignored Imus as a radio personality for people with white hair and the antiquated social perspectives to match (perhaps now I should have my blogging privileges suspended/revoked for disparaging remarks directed at old people). I think that this, Imus' niche, has played into the public reaction to his recent comments. If someone a bit more in touch with the times (ie. not so fucking old and white) had made this joke, at least in terms of broad stroke characteristics and target demographic, the reaction would not have been so extreme and widespread.

Know what's also really amazing? That Jesse Jackson and the Rev. Al Sharpton still have a platform. These are two of the most inarticulate men I've ever heard, yet they somehow maintain, at least in the media, the notion that they're the spokesmen for black America. They should both be fired, from whatever it is they do for a living, for being retarded.

"This is a two-week cooling off period," Jackson said. "It does not challenge the character of the show, its political impact, or the impact that these comments have had on our society."

What impact? Are people talking about this? Yes. It's everywhere. Is it a polarizing story? Yes. Everyone has an opinion one way or the other. Has it had a discernible effect on our society? No. No, it hasn't. And it won't. Ultimately, an old man made some comments he didn't have the street cred to make. A joke in poor taste. It was out of line, blah blah, etc. If you don't like what this guy says, do as I do; don't listen to him. Listen to someone else more in line with your sensibilities. Or better yet, don't listen to the radio because it blows. Most cars come equipped with CD players. Knock yourself out!

The Rutgers basketball team is not relegated to a life of turning tricks and bad hair now because of some moron with a radio show. People act like firing Imus will help in the war against ignorance and racism when, not only is it debatable whether Imus is or is not a racist, but even if he is, his ravings are a symptom, not a cause.

Eye Contact

Doodly plip plop time is an occasion I had always assumed, though perhaps imlicitly, I'd never make eye contact with another person.

I should preface this story with a little background:

There is an elderly gentlman who works for the property manager of my office building. He drives around the property in a golf cart, putting orange cones in inconsequential locations, and wandering the building looking for burnt out light bulbs. He also happens to wear Blueblocker sunglasses rain or shine, outside and in. Weird guy. Ultimately harmless....or so I thought.

Yesterday, I went to the bathroom to doodly. So there I was, minding my own business, when a commotion in the doorway caught my attention. I closed my left eye and peered through the door hinge with my right to see what was going on. It was Blueblockers. It was Blueblockers carrying a ladder.

As he set the ladder down, almost leaning on my stall, I tried to relax. Surely he knows I'm here. He's not going to change the light directly overhead. That's a direct violation of bathroom ettiquette on every planet.

As he climbed up the ladder, I began to perspire, panic.

"Eeeehemmmm," I cleared my throat, "hey."

"Hey," he responded gruffly as our eyes met through the brown lense of his inappropriately named sunglasses.

Blown away, my eyes shot to the ground in front of me. Ass clenched, I sat, frozen, as dust and peices of the ceiling fell in my hair.

Haven't pooped since.

Galactic

I wasn't sure what to expect. I'd never before seen Galactic. I own two of their CD's, "We Love 'em Tonight" and "Vintage Reserve", and from what I've heard, "Ruckus" is a CD I need to add to the collection. As much as anyone can be into a musician of whom's music they own 3 albums (the aforementioned two album's plus Moore's Flyin the Coop solo effort), I'm a huge fan of Stanton Moore. As I put it to two guys we were talking to before the show, he's really slick without ever really showing off or bringing attention to himself.... Fittingly, this was a notion that would momentarily be turned on it's head.....in a good way.

This concert was well worth the wait (it was originally slaited for over a month ago but was postponed because a member of the band was in the hospital with some sort of ailment).

Stanton Moore is magic. I've never seen a drummer this good live before. Perhaps even more importantly, I've never seen a drummer who gets as excited to play or looks to be having as much fun as Stanton Moore. The crowd really picks up on this energy. Everyone was downright giddy after the first song.

That's not to take away from the dynamic of the rest of the band. The glue, logically positioned within feet of eachother on stage, is comprised of the bass and guitar players. Even when he was soloing, Jeff Raines' playing doesn't lose the angular quality he maintains and that one would expect from a rythym player. Rob Mercurio's driving bass lines are at the root of it all.

Ben Ellman (sax, harmonica and fx), Stanton Moore and Rich Vogel (keyboards) are the flowers of their sound's madness. Whether playing a jazz standard, Shibuya, or Kashmir (which they covered fantastically), this dyamic provides a decent frame of reference.

I should have written this review much sooner. I'm definitely missing details....like the fact that 5 Trombone players joined them on stage for their extended jamfest encore!

The show was a 10.