I shit on many things that don't stand the test of time or that I get sick of. I always believe that this is justified. But have you ever done the revisit? Because the revisit can be awesome.
I talk about the revisit often with my friends Thornton and McLaughlin and my bro and sis. This past weekend, I had the opportunity to revisit Dear Leader in concert. When Dear Leader was The Sheila Divine (and let's admit... They don't sound that different), I saw them all the time. They helped me with the post college transition years. If it weren't for The Sheila Divine, rubyhorse, and Big Wreck, I may have been stuck going to The Harp between the ages of 22-25. Thankfully, one night in Newton, I saw The Sheila D open up for rubyhorse and my indie music snobbiness was born.
And when The Sheila Divine broke up, I was sad, but shortly after that, they united with a few other members of Boston bands who had experienced a modicum of success (Tugboat Annie, Orbit) and formed Dear Leader. Like The Sheila D, I saw Dear Leader just about every time they played in Boston. I listened to their two CDs frequently and "Raging Red" and "Nightmare Alleys" always show up on my gym playlists.
But in recent months (years?), I haven't listened to my Dear Leader CDs and I haven't seen them in quite some time. This past weekend, they played two shows at TTs and on Friday night, I was busy seeing friends I hadn't seen in ages (thats you Waidehi, Steve, Susan, and Seth) and when a rainy Saturday night rolled around, I wasn't sure I'd be able to motivate. But word on the street was that this might be the final show for this foursome, and so with a little help from Marissa, I managed to motivate. And I was treated to a phenomenal show.
Did they sound any different than they had previously? Probably not, although Aaron did seem to sing with a passion I didn't remember. They had no new material and there was no guest appearance from Matt Beringer. So what made me enjoy the show far more than I thought I would at 6 pm Saturday night? Why, the revisiting of course.
Revisiting can happen with anything. You can revisit an old movie, book, band, girlfriend (although this could be disastrous), restaurant, sporting event (pop in that NESEN 2004 Sox video sometime), friend, or store.
Personally, I'm a huge fan of the revisit. While it can be painfully disappointing (watching old TV shows is never good and boy was The Breakfast Club bad), the revisit can be phenomenal. And it was most certainly phenomenal with Dear Leader.
I mean, you are always going to know the things you love (Se7en, Pulp Fiction, High Fidelity) and you are always going to know the things you hate (Led Zeppelin, Dane Cook, coconut), but there is all sorts of stuff that you may have forgotten about.
During the summer, I have more spare time than a retired grandmother so I get to spend an inordinate amount of time revisiting things. I can't believe how much I enjoyed Back To the Future (a virtually perfect story), The Crow (I love revenge stories- unless they are that recent Kevin Bacon one), and The Untouchables (the scene on the stairs at the subway station is tension perfection). The Cadillac commercial this summer helped me realize how much I like "Stars" by Hum and leftover lunch always allows me to revisit a classic tune (Pulp's "Common People," When In Rome's "The Promise"- And thanks Napoleon, you helped here too). And nothing beats the rereading of a great book. People are always recommending great books to me, but I tend to read the same eight over and over. I've often wondered why this is, but I realized that the books I reread have NOT been made into movies and so it is MY world I can go into when I read these books. The characters, places, and scenes are all mine; like the rosebush story was all Captain Miller's in Saving Private Ryan.
The revisit can also be planned to. For instance, I sometimes don't watch Empire Strikes Back for long strecthes of time, then some night I come home drunk, I'll pop it in and be overwhelmed by it's perfection. I also do this very frequently with food and restaurants. I love shakes and I could get one everyday (and look like Vince Wilfork), but other than the 1200 calories, part of the reason why I like shakes so much is because I don't have them all the time. And if we went to The Capital Grill every night, we probably wouldn't like it as much as we do. Well, maybe that's not a good example...
All of this seems pretty obvious given the fact that we do get sick of things. In fact, there are some things in our lives that are built in "revisitors" like seasonal beer and clothes. But the revisiting is more than just staying away from something because of seasons, financial reasons, caloric reasons, or because you want it to be a treat. Revisiting is about challenging yourself, or even better, just plain, old enjoying yourself. Be it a film, band, book, or restaurant, we sometimes automatically hate, mostly because we are salty Massholes. Often times, our hate or dislike of something is justified (Curt Schilling), but other times it's about a mood or a time in our lives. Or it could be something simpler. Maybe we hated a movie because we were seated behind a giant head or because the couple behind you kept asking questions. Or maybe we hated a song or CD because of where we were when we first heard it or who it reminds us of. But if you can put any of that aside- it ain't easy, I know- then you might end up appreciating something you never thought you could appreciate. Or, if you revisit something you remember liking, but not loving, you might end up finding a classic.
So with a long weekend and cold weather approaching, revisit something. You could start by revisiting The Sixth Sense, french toast (seriously... just put some powdered sugar on it and get good bread), Collateral, or Blink 182's self titled final CD.
I know you've heard my rants on writing. Who I admire (Matt and Ben! And you Chuck K!), who I find irritating (your plot twists are so stupid Jodi Picoult), who everyone hates on yet is such an unbelievable writer (my Curly Haired Boyfriend) who I defend like she were my sister (Emily Giffin), who I hate on because I'm better than (I think he wrote Garden State), who I'm jealous of because I wish I thought of his idea first (Bill Simmons), and who just plain sucks (whatever Diablo Cody's real name is).
But I don't think I've ever touched on how much I enjoy and truly admire those people who write song lyrics (except for you Jim Morrison and lead singer of Sublime).
Why? Because you could lock me a 10x10 square foot room with all the writing playlists I need, endless vodka drinks (I like enjoying those while I write), Antonios pizza, Emily Giffin books to inspire me, and Empire Strikes Back on repeat (for periodic breaks) and I would STILL not be able to write one single good song.
I've tried it before and crashed and burned like Maverick hitting on Charlie. All writers (which I'm not) have a fear of letting people read their stuff, but as you can likely deduce by reading this, I have overcome that fear like I overcame the fear of talking to Ginger in high school.
But there's an outside chance I'd prefer you to pull out my fingernails Syriana style than write a song and have ANYONE read it, because it will be worse than something Gunner Nelson wrote.
Which is why, despite my occassional (no really, it IS only accassional!) hating on lyricists, I love lyrics.
I first discovered lyrics when I first discovered music. I had no older brother to give me Foreigner records (why weren't you giving me Iggy Pop and The Clash albums Julie?!?) and I never heard Credence until "Fortunate Son" ripped through the Vietnam scene in Forrest Gump (for serious). I can remeber memorizing the lyrics to "99 Red Balloons" (not the German ones) and I also remember knowing the lyrics to "Every little Thing She Does Is Magic" and having to correct Ted Bibeau when he idiotically said at the bus stop that every little thing she did was actually, plastic. I think that he beat me up after I said that. He often beat me up, but at least I was smarter than him.
But lyrics really changed for me when I discovered the Pretty Woman and Top Gun soundtracks. And although I rarely get embarassed, I have no intention of sharing with you which lyrics got to me from those albums, but rest assured, it was NOT Playing With the Boys.
Thankfully, I grew out of that wretched stage and discovered gems like Cheap Trick's "The Flame." Eventually, I put myself out of my musical taste retardedness and moved onto the lurical genuis wrought by the alternative scene. And when I wasn't shedding tears to "Black," I was contemplating ways to kill myself while listening to "Pictures of You" in the dark.
In case you haven't noticed the pattern here, I like songs about relationships/failed relationships/missed opportunities in relationships/true relationships, and breakups- both messy and otherwise. Like Rob Gordon said, "What came first, the music or the misery? Did I listen to pop music because I was miserable? Or was I miserable because I listened to pop music?"
And while listening to the most recent Death Cab For Cutie CD, I realized that lyrics (Cath... She stands with a well intentioned man... But she can't relax with his hands...On the small of her back... As the flashbulbs burst she holds a smile... Like someone would hold a crying child) still mean a lot to me. Whether it's nearly tearing up on the treadmill (a certain Coldplay song about a certain family member) or getting overwhelmed by the passion of Dave Grohl (Has someone taken your faith... Its real, the pain you feel... The life, the love... You'd die to heal...The hope that starts... The broken hearts... Your trust, you must... Confess) when I've had too much to drink, lyrics have always done it for me. While I cannot say at this time that the following are my all time favorites, I can say that as of right now, these are my favorites. And so that should be good enough for you because the following cheese ball lyrics will give you plenty of opportunity to dispute my statements and, in turn, shit on me.
16. The Features- "Someway, Somehow": I'll never let you down,... I'll keep you safe from harm... Someway, somehow... Know you can count on me... I'll always be around,... Give everything you need... Someway, Somehow. Who is this written to? A son or daughter? A significant other? I don't know, but I love that this song makes no promises. It just says it'll be done, someway, somehow.
15. Feist- "I Feel It All": Oh I'll be the one who'll break my heart... I'll be the one to hold the gun... Mostly because it's me always fuckin' shit up...
14. The Samples- "Did You ever look So Nice?": We were children in our places... With the world beneath our feet... And growing up was on our faces... I remember yours so sweet... A song about being a kid? If it's not a song about relationships that gets me, it'll surely be a song about being a kid. Man it sucks to think my life peaked at ten...
13. Powderfinger- "My Happiness": It seems an age since Ive seen you... Countdown as the weeks trickle into days... I hope that time hasnt changed you... All I really want is for you to stay... And then a song about somebody coming back for someone? You are aware that most of the books that clog my shelves are of the chick lit genre, aren't you...?
12. The Pushstars- "Any Little Town":Everytime you smile... It takes me quite a while to recover... And everytime you cry... I find I'm searching for the rock I can crawl under... Imagine you thought to write this song for your girlfriend/wife? You could pretty much do no wrong... Now why couldn't I come up with that..?
11. Buffalo Tom- "Torch Singer":There are some things I've got to say... She won't understand anyway... There are miles between our hearts... There's salvation in false starts... I've always got something to say. Usually I do, except when when it's a "she" involved. The hundreds of dollars I've spent in therapy tried to fix that and while it's gotten better...
10. Dave Matthews Band- "Lie In Our Graves":I cant believe that we would lie in graves... Wondering if we had spent our living days well... I cant believe that we would lie in graves... Wondering what we might of been... Along with all things relationships, lyrics about regret get me. Not so much because I have regrets, but lyrics about regret can be weirdly nostalgic to me. And as I write this, maybe it's the nostalgia of Lie In Our Graves that gets me... Of course, it doesn't help that this album was released second semester senior year at The Greatest University In the Nation...
9. Iron and Wine- "Trapeze Swinger": Please, remember me... Seldomly... In the car behind the carnival... My hand between your knees... You turned from me... And said, "The trapeze act was wonderful... But never meant to last..." I think it's the seldomly that gets me. I sometimes think about not being remembered. 100 years from now, I won't be. None of us will be. And that's sad. And this song captures that perfectly.
8. Sinead O'Connor (But Lyrics By Prince)- "Nothing Compares 2 U":It's been seven hours and fifteen days... Since you took your love away... I go out every night and sleep all day... Since you took your love away... Since you been gone I can do whatever I want... I can see whomever I choose... I can eat my dinner in a fancy restaurant... But nothing... I said nothing can take away these blues... I think we've all heard this song and we all know what it's about (who knew Prince had it in him), but really, it can be about losing anyone or anything. The passion with which she sings this song doesn't make it any less likable either.
7. Matthew Sweet- "Sick Of Myself":Theres something in your eyes that is keeping my hope alive... But Im sick of myself when I look at you... Something is beautiful and true... In a world thats ugly and a lie... Its hard to even want to try... And Im beginning to think baby you dont know... Again, likely about a girl, but to me, it's about anything that's ever kept you alive. Which reminds me. When I was a kid and heard that George Lucas was eventually going to release three more movies (actually, he said nine), all I hoped was that I lived long enough to see them all. I'm three years past my best if used by date.
6. Rod Stewart- "Ooh La La":I wish that I knew what I know now... When I was younger... Because who doesn't?
5. The National- "Mr. November":I wish that I believed in fate... I wish I didn't sleep so late... I used to be carried in the arms of cheerleaders... You knew they'd show up here, right (and Mr. November was the original name of this blog, but it was taken)? In all seriousness, the regret here is palpable. And while I was never carried in the arms of cheerleaders, I did lead the Pee Wee League in hitting in fourth grade...
4. stellastarr*- "My Coco":I sat alone and I didn't care ... I sat two years in the same old chair ... I saw three roads and I didn't know ... Which way to go-go-go... Who hasn't known which way to go? Where do I go in work? How do i get to The Cape? Which college? Time Out, Delanos, or Mike's Westview? Life is full of these choices... I was glad to hear Shawn had some trouble with them too...
3. Bruce Springsteen- "Tunnel of Love":It ought to be easy ought to be simple enough... Man meets woman and they fall in love... But the house is haunted and the ride gets rough... And youve got to learn to live with what you cant rise above... If you want to ride on down in through this tunnel of love... Quite possibly the best song about a relationship ever written. Leave it to the old guy who has been through his share of relationships to have them so perfectly figured out. While everyone waxes poetic about "Born To Run," it was the lyrics to this '80s gem that blew it away. Good work Boss...
2. Coldplay- "Fix You": Tears stream down on your face... I promise you I will learn from my mistakes... Tears stream down your face... And I... Lights will guide you home... And ignite your bones... And I will try to fix you... Yeah, I've mentioned this to you before. And if you don't like this, there really is something wrong with you. I'm serious. You have no tear ducts or something. Or you are an emotionless, iceman on par with a Terminator. Or you're a sociopath. Ted Bundy was a sociopath...
1. Oasis- "Wonderwall":And all the roads that lead to you were winding ... And all the lights that light the way are blinding ... There are many things that I would like to say to you ... But I don't know how... You were expecting something else? Please. I wake up everyday because of these lyrics. All I hope is that I can be someone's wonderwall. You available Megan Fox?
It's my dream to write. You all know this. I already have the best screenplay acceptance speech for No Long Term Plan (that's my manuscript) written. I thank all of you loyal blog readers in said speech- by the way- for supporting my pathetic dream. You'll all get an individual shout out. I'm serious.
But onto more pressing issues.
Fuck Bill Simmons.
Well, not really, because it's a money piece. But shit, I HAD IT FIRST!!! I had it BEFORE the olympics and if you had the unfortunate pleasure of actually having to be around me between August 8th and August 24th of this year, you know that THIS IS ALL I TALKED ABOUT!!!
Some of you laughed at me for staying up that Saturday until 2:30 to watch my boys. But I saw it. I watched Doug Collins put on the best color man performance of all time. I watched Kobe destroy a four point play where I think I was actually more excited than I was when JD stroked that homer last October. I watch Coach K coach the shit out of that game. I watched twelve European stiffs get smoked by my boys. And then I watched my twelve boys receive their medals. All the while, I drank my PBR Tall Boys and smiled until 5:30 that morning.
And I did because I loved them. I loved Lebron, Kobe, Melo, Kidd, Howard, Bosh (my fave), Deron, CP3, Tayshaun, D-Wade (The MVP), Redd, and twelfth man Boozer.
And what happens? Some dude with a big fancy column on a big fancy website that gets probably 50 million hits a day goes and swipes my piece.
Granted, his entire article was way better than anything I could have written. And this is probably why he has a byline on ESPN and I have... A blog that I was happy to see got twenty hits today...
Anyways, when you're at a cocktail party this weekend and the topic of USA basketball comes up- which it will absolutely not- just remember that it was your chuckah friend Gerard that wrote the piece before the most read author on ESPN wrote his.
In the words of Chucky, I don't know much, but I know that...
As a society, we probably always surprise ourselves. People are probably surprised that they like a certain movie, song, or book. I remember my friend Shaun was surprised when he liked Collective Soul's "Heaven Let Your Light Shine Down." As a classic rock freak (it surprises me we are good friends), he heard the song on the radio when it was brand new and he figured it was some tune from the early 70s. When he found out that it was from the then present day of 1994, he surprised himself by liking it. Molly and Mike do this with movies all the time. In particular, they do it with movies I have seen and liked. They assume they will NOT like it (or maybe they don't want to like it) because I liked it so much, but then they do. You can all probably think of a 1001 examples of something you thought you wouldn't like and then did.
But has the opposite ever happened?
Have you ever HATED something so much, wished for its' demise so strongly, rooted so hard AGAINST said thing, wanted something so terrible to happen to someone? Have you wanted their careers, lives, 15 minutes of fame, and general being to get blowed up? What am I saying? Of course you have. In fact, a few of you who read this probably root against me.
Now, I- being one of the angrier people in the land- probably wish this a little more often than most of you. Over the years I have wished awful things to happen to Dane Cook, Zach Braff, Fred Durst, George W. Bush, Pacino and De Niro, Curt Schilling, Trot Nixon, Troy Aikman, Donald Rumsfeld, and Roger Clemens.
Needless to say, be it a bum shoulder, the horrific buzz of Righteous Kill, a resignation, a string of straight to DVD movies, a 29% approval rating, the end of a musical genre, a .220 batting average with 7000 men left on base, or a "misremembering," I have pretty much got what I wanted in each and every case.
And strangley, when bad karma eventually strikes these cretins, I feel extremely... Unfulfilled.
I'm not sure what type of person this makes me. Maybe it makes me an idiot for caring/hating/expending so much energy on people that will- eventually- lose their spot in peoples hearts. Maybe it makes me an overly angry person. Maybe it makes me a person who should hate less. Maybe it makes me a hypocrite. Maybe it makes me a person who lacks passion. I'd like to think it makes me this really, great, forgiving guy. But we all know that is pretty unlikely.
What I do know is that, in my old age, I'm hating a lot less these days. How do I know this? Why, because in all honesty, Tom Brady out for the year actually makes me feel a bit badly for him. Really, I should be reveling in the glory of a lost season for the Patsies. But I'm not. And there's a very specific reason for this.
Remember in Swingers (I know Molly and Matt, it looks old and boy is that fashion dated) when Mikey's friend Rob was describing the loss of an ex? He said this...
"You know how it is, man. It's like... You wake up every day, it hurts a little bit less, then you wake up one day and it doesn't hurt at all. And the funny thing is... This is kinda weird, but it's like... You almost miss that pain, for the same reason that you miss her. Because you... you lived with it for so long."
Well, I'll miss the pain. I'll miss the pain of hating Tom Brady.
Just like I miss the pain of hating Curt Schilling. I mean, Schilling is now just a fat, old guy with a blog and a mullet (did I just describe me?). Granted, he's a rich fat, old guy with a blog and a mullet. But all in all, he's just really... A regular old dude. Like the ones who work at Fidelity or ride in the elevator next to you. And unless said guy has committed some horrible fashion crime like wearing pleated pants, what is their to hate about a regular old dude?
And for the next five, horrific months that are football season, Tom Brady will just be a regular old dude. Well, as regular as an Esquire cover boy, super model dating, perfectly dressed, multi city condo owning, rich prick (ah, the hate is not ALL gone) can be.
But seriously, for the next year, he won't be the record breaking, super bowl MVP, guy whose life I'm totally jealous off, dude that I'm used to him being. He'll be invisible. He'll be invisible as... Curt Schilling. And, with the exception of his stupid Manny comments, when was the last time you hated Mr. 38pitches? And in his invisibility, he won't be hateable at all because he'll just be a really dreamy dude, wearing perfect suits, hanging out in SoHo and slaying the world's hottest girl (why do I hate him again?).
And who- other than really jealous dudes not comfortable with their own sexuality- hates that dude?
This whole "knee injury" (Shaugnessey's line about what the Pats would call a quadruple bypass surgery was awesome) should make me happy. But it doesn't. Because I'll miss the pain. I'll miss the pain that Tommy Boy has caused me.
In the end, the injury still makes me happy, but not because it happened to Tommy Boy. It makes me happy because now maybe the Patriots will suck and everyone will see that Belichick is the worthless douche that he really is (although WEEi's foursome of Big O, DeOssie, Fred, and Pete tell me he is the second coming of Gandhi). It makes really happy because the goons that are Patriot Nation are in full melt down mode. And then it makes me really, REALLY happy because now maybe people will see- as the Patriots muddle through 14-10 games against The Dolphins- that the NFL really IS garbage and that the only thing that saves it are Fantasy Leagues and gambling.
But strangely, I'll miss Tommy Boy. I'll miss peeking at the Sportscenter Ticker to stew at his 31-40 for 346 yards and four touchdowns line. I'll miss hating how goddamn good he looks in a simple zip up hoodie at his post game press conferences. I'll miss envying his pocket squares and perfect coiffe as he strolls off the bus for a road game. I'll miss wanting to punch him right in the stupid chin dimple when I see him show up with Gisele at some black tie gala.
So healy quickly Tommy. I need you. I'm a shell of a man without my ire and you have brought me so much over the years.
Come back soon, Bud. Until then, have fun in SoHo.
There's much to write about these days. I could write about all the black people at the RNC, but that wouldn't be long. I could also write about how Dustin Pedroia has become the best player in baseball. I could even write bout the worthlessness of Fantasy Football, but happily, I feel the backlash to that idiotic activity these days. Like poker, it's not as big as it once was. I could also write about how I may be wrong about those fading Rays (but I'll be right, you'll see!) or shred the new Pacino/De Niro certain flop (it makes less than 10 million, I guarantee). Or I could discuss the awesomeness of this fall's live music scene. Or lament the fact that Heidi Whatney may be banging a big assed, flat topped, .210 hitting Jason Varitek.
But I couldn't get juiced up for any of those because I was busy feeling bad for myself because I realized I'm old. When did this realization come to fruition? When I made a reference to The Breakfast Club and a student of mine said it was "mad old."
Old? What? Are you kidding me? No way. In fact, I disagreed so wholeheartedly that I got really pissed. I spent the rest of the afternoon cursing the stupidity of today's youth and their non appreciation for all things great. I mean, could they turn off Gossip Girls, shut off their iPod, and get off of Facebook for a few seconds? Can't they appreciate all the greatness that has come before them because if they thought superbad Superbad was funny, then they know nothing! Funny was the eighties and nineties I tell ya! Funny was Marty McFly, Lloyd Christmas, Farley and Spade, Fletch (that's for you Hayes), Caddyshack (that's for you Wall), Animal House (Thornton), and The Big Lebowski (Mike). Those are (were?) funny! And by god so was (definitely WAS) The Breakfast Club!
But you know what? My new student was correct. The Breakfast Club is old. And to this young woman- who was born in 1992- The Breakfast Club is indeed, Mad Old. And once I thought about it, not only is it old, but it's not that good. How do I know this? Why, I watched it just five days ago.
While The Simple Minds are great, Principal Vernon is hilarious (I can't believe that I related to him the most!) and the general story of teens from all walks of life is a classic, the movie is far from funny. There are painfully dated lines (Barry Manilow's wardrobe), the "dramatic" parts aren't that dramatic and there's been a glut of recent high school films that surpass it (my binkie Napoleon, Mean Girls, Can't Hardly Wait to name three). And worst of all is Judd Nelson. He is virtually unwatchable and his tough guy of a character is so beyond outdated that it is hysterical (there just aren't "skids" anymore people).
And that got me to thinking. To this girl, this movie is ANCIENT. It came out a full seven years before she was born. That may as well make it Citizen Kane to her.
Think about the year you were born. For me, that was 1974. Now go back seven years from said birth year. That puts me at 1967.
In 1967, there was no baseball playoffs, just the World Series. There were no Walkmans, let alone iPods. U2 were just recently gametes. No one had heard of something as simple as Pong. The Cosby Show and Family Ties were decades away. Hell, even Jaws and it's comical mechanical shark was too futuristic (it arrived nine years later). And wikipedia was a word that would have got you put into special ed classes if you said it too often. Only there weren't special ed classes either. And heres a car from 1967:
I'd rather have a club foot than be seen driving in that piece.
On the pop culture scene, The Graduate, In Cold Blood, Bonnie and Clyde, and In The Heat of the Night were big films of that year. I've seen all four. $50 and a six pack pf PBR Talls wouldn't get me to sit through one of them right now.
Have you seen a television show from 1967? You probably have... For about five seconds because some of the shows that were on in 1967 were Hogan's Heroes, Gunsmoke, Bonanza, The Carol Burnett Show, and Beverly Hillbillies.
Those shows aren't good.
And it's not that they are not good because they are old, they are not good because they are not good. Just as, upon further review, The Breakfast Club is not good.
I frequently get in this argument with people, especially when it comes to music. Because a song or band is old and was an essential part of our youth, doesn't mean it was good. I bet the first time your older brother gave you Foreigner, 4 (add "Urgent" to the songs I immediately switch off), you loved it. Not so much because you liked the music , but more because you liked the fact that your brother was actually being nice to you and not giving you a charlie horse (or drowning you in the pool, right Molly and Mike?). But have you listened to it in comparison to the music that is out these days? These guys wouldn't open for Cold War Kids, let alone headline a tour in 2008.
Because if you can push aside for a few minutes all the nostalgia that comes with something old, you may realize that these movies, TV shows, songs, bands, cars, video game systems, and gadgets were just plain bad.
And so that young lady in my class doesn't hate The Breakfast Club strictly because it's old. She hates it because it's bad and unfunny. The actors are of no relevance to her and Don't You Forget About Me is a song she may or may not have heard covered on One Tree Hill. Instead of being the geek icon that he was in the 80s, to her Anthony Michael Hall is just some old dude that hasn't been in a relevant movie in twenty years (although he was seen pissing off a balcony in Entourage recently). Molly Ringwald is no one to her and Emilio Estevez? C'Mon. She probably knows his dad better from those re-runs of West Wing.
I wrote in a very early post that old TV shows on DVD should not be watched because they aren't good. The same can be said for all pieces of pop culture, not just TV shows. And while old isn't always bad ("So Lonely", Iggy Pop, 2001: A Space Odyssey, To Kill A Mockingbird, "Take Another Piece of My Heart", Monopoly), so much of what we loved is really, REALLY bad.
Take for instance Atari. I've had a habit of buying for Playstation old Atari games (just to give you a sense of the memory on those old school cartridges, you can get about fifty games on one Playstation CD-ROM) and you know what? They suck. There's a reason why people invented Intellivision, Colecovision, Nintendo, Sega, genesis, N64, Playstation, and XBox. Why? Because each of these were way better than their old, outdated, worthless predecessor!
And just as we understand that this is a GOOD thing when it comes to technology, we should also understand that it is a GOOD thing when it comes to entertainment too. Because while three guys slapping each other and poking one another's eyes may have been funny at some point in our lives, I'm certainly glad we progressed from that to Ferris Bueller's Day Off (still weathers time), to Pulp Fiction, to Napoleon Dynamite, to Flight of the Conchords.
But guess what? I like lots of old things, like Seinfeld. This past May marked the tenth anniversary of Seinfeld ENDING! Can you believe that? For anyone in high school, that Thursday night when no one got the button joke means absolutely nothing! Neither, frankly, does the return of 90210. Why? because to a teenager, Jennie Garth and Shannon Doherty are just two old beat chicks moving staggeringly close to cougar status. They are part of no current drinking games as they were to many of us in college and teenagers certainly have no idea what the phrase "Donna Martin graduates" means.
So the next time I make a Frank Constanze joke and it falls flat (as it did the other day), I need to realize that- in the words of good ole Constanza... It's not them, it's me.
I need to start making Gossip Girl references and instead of talking about the hotness of a now 43 year old Brad Pitt, I need to say how dreamy The Jonas Brothers are. I need to get it together because my circa 1997 jokes are really not good and you know why?
All of you who are joining me (or are soon joining me) returning to school know that the day before school starts is the worst day. Ever. It's worse than the day your dog died. It's worse than the day you found out that hottie gave you a fake number. It's worse than the day that your roommate pissed in your sock drawer.
You know how everyone has the Sunday Blues? That time on a Sunday when you realize that you have to return to work? That's the feeling we get. Only it's worse. Way worse. It's like the worst Sunday you ever had.
It's a lot like that Sunday where you had that out of state wedding that you gleefully traveled too Friday afternoon. You know the one. The one where you woke up far later than you had planned with a hangover the size of a pre-Subway Jared next to one of your best friends and not that cute bridesmaid. Then, because you got up so late, you missed the breakfast, got a late start and didn't leave near as early as you needed to in order to get the full Sunday unwind in. You then booted out the window on the ride home due to your buddies herky-jerky driving in traffic that was so dense that you got home too late to grocery shop for the week and thus, had nothing for breakfast or lunch on Monday. And because of the fact that you finished that bottle of Grey Goose and then had a travel agenda similar to the one Steve Martin and John Candy had in Planes, Trains, and Automobiles, you're so goddman tired you need another weekend. And to top it all off, you forgot to DVR Entourage.
The day before school is just like that Sunday. Only it's actually worse than that Sunday. Imagine you had a rectal examine that Sunday night too and then maybe, maybe we could talk comparison.
Those of you in education know what I'm talking about.
And while those of you NOT in education are snickering right now and telling me to suck it up and quit whining (By the way, my boy Hayes thinks teachers are overpaid. I'll send you his email address if you want to fire vitriolic comments his way), I'm here to tell you that on this day, your job is way, WAY better than mine.
September is just another month for you. In fact, it's probably kind of a good one. You have fond memories of returning to college, where you had as much responsibility as a house cat. Football starts for you meatballs and with it comes your precious fantasy football draft. The heat and humidity have gone away, and so too have your kids, which, given the prices of child care, might provide you with a windfall between fifteen and forty-five thousand dollars (if you are sending your child off to school for the first time). Tons of new music gets released, Red Sox playoff baseball begins, and you non-educators move into the time of year where it is YOU who actually get some time off.
And because of your lives as non-teachers (solid, solid decision by the way), you will never know the experience of the night before school begins.
The feeling in my stomach is almost indescribable. Every year, I try going to bed early, only to toss and turn and think about all it is I have to do before I finally decide to wake up at 1:47 and see what movie is on HBO (Fight Club). The more you teach, the more you realize that going back to school really isn't a big deal and in three weeks time, it will be back to business as usual. But it's just the THOUGHT of going back to school that is the killer on this, the night before I have to return to work.
For returning to my job means that there are no more Tuesday night's playing trivia. No more enjoying the ENTIRE Sox game as they play past 1 AM in Seattle on a Thursday. No more lazy Wednesday (or for me, Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, AND Wednesday) mornings reading the paper over a cup of coffee at Diesel with only the parking meter to worry about. No more drunken texts with Steve Wall where we quote lines from Pulp Fiction (or Top Gun, or Talledega Nights) at 3:30am as we simultaneously watch said pictures on 203 or 326. No more concerts on a random Monday... Wait, that won't change. I'll just have to get up at six with a hangover instead of at one with a hangover. No more sitting in the sun on a Tuesday morning or shopping on Newbury on Friday at 10:30am. No more fun.
Now, I know that I should be happy to even have this opportunity for eight weeks every summer. I get to relive the adult equivalent of the days we spent playing wiffle ball and water polo (standing was allowed of course) as kids. But in the waning days of August, the trade off isn't even worth it, for there is nothing worse than the dark cloud of a new school year that hangs over us the second we see our first back to school commercial (fuck you Staples). Because do you, Mr. and Ms. Non Educator, know how much you hate Sunday nights? Well, you've only been away for work from two days and you don't want to go back. Try being away from work two MONTHS and then knowing you have to go back. It sure ain't good.
Take your Sunday Blues and multiply them by a billion kagallion and you have some idea of how we educators feel.
Every fall, I try to be positive about the season that brings Halloween (can't wait for the worthless Halloween blog) and Thanksgiving, but I cannot. Molly tried, but after one wake up, her attempts to bring me to Team Positivity failed. While The Shipyard Pumpkin is the best, it cannot offset the horror that is hearing that first ridiculous gripe from a student. You know, the same one you've heard for twelve years now, only out of a different mouth.
There are plenty of good things about teaching (scroll up four paragraphs and re-read) and plenty of bad things (the sheer volume of idiotic people who somehow decided to choose the same profession as I selected). But there is really nothing worse than the First Day Of School Eve (there should be a name for this- Hell Night sounds appropriate or maybe Day of Suck). And like I said, in no time, it'll be business as usual, but that doesn't allay my dread on this night. Just two months ago, I was celebrating my annual Summer of Gerard and that seems like just two hours ago. And in that same span of time, it will be the end of October and then before I know it, I'll be celebrating the annual Christmas Vacation. It'll all go by quickly and painlessly, but those words ring hollow right now, don't they fellow educators?
But on this night- the night before smiling cherubs bearing awful movie tastes and the occassional minging breath arrive at my door- all of you lucky non teachers have it easy. You'll sleep soundly, knowing that tomorrow is just another Wednesday. Just another hump day. Just another night of Bones, Criminal Minds, and Americas Next Top Model. I'd do anything to be in your shoes.
And so when you non-teachers are cursing me on a Tuesday night in July for keeping you out far too late, know that you've got your revenge tonight. And then some.
As many of you know, I hate America. I wish I were British, I root for the UK squad in World Cup play, I prefer British rock bands, I always root for the "underdog" countries in war (that's mostly a joke by the way). I hate our president, I like three states (two and a quarter seeing as where Mass has Fanuiel Hall), I hate The Ryder Cup team, and I dislike 98% of Americans.
But for some strange reason that no one can explain (and my brother is fascinated by this), I love the USofA come olympic time.
Why?
Frankly, I have no idea. But I do have a few theories. One is that despite how hard I try to NOT be a sports guy, I really like athletic competition. Another is that I love that football is NOT a sport in the olympics. I also love that when discussing the olympics, I realize that a good deal of the people I hate (read: idiots) don't like the olympics. I also love that there is a segment of the population that says, "The olympics aren't my thing" and these are often the same people that make me wish I wasn't an American, so because I am a non conformist, I love the olympic games. But it's more than just being a douche. I really do love the olympics. And here are the thirty reasons why I love the olympics....
30. That Rumor That In '04 They Ran Out Of Condoms In The Olympic Village- Imagine the scene at the olympics? Talk about the best bar on Earth! I'm sure that, as an athlete, you're psyched to be there, but you also must say as you're flying toward your competition, "man, I might get some nice vageen over there..." If that thought doesn't cross your mind, then you are off your game. Imagine the night after your event is over? It's like the last day of school/college graduation/Fourth of July/Bachelor party/Barbecue at your place and you don't have to drive all rolled into one. You just got the gold, your flight isn't until four days from now... Drink Up... And Bang!
29. Seeing Sports That Make You Say, "Hey, I Could Do That!"- I grew up with a pool and I can't swim. I run a 10K six days a week and I'd get lapped three times over if I were to compete in that event. Pole vault? Please... I can't do that in a video game. But team handball? All I could ever do athletically was throw and catch. I'm slower than Mike Lowell with a hip injury, and despite the fact that I left weights all the time, I have no real world strength. I can't bend it like Beckham and I'm probably a 45% free throw shooter. So what can I do with my catch and throw skills?!? TEAM HANDBALL BABY! I'm big enough, I'm in shape enough to lope up and down that court, and most importnatly, I can catch and throw. So where are the team handball try outs for 2012, because I'm in!
28. Weight Lifting- They use phrases called "jerk" and "snatch." Yes, I'm 34. Yes, I find this funny. And yes, you do too.
27. The Opening Ceremonies- Because you might see a girl who looks like this...
26. The Insane Logos- I have to say, I'm a sucker for logos. I think this is genetic as my lil sis Molly has long been a fan of all things logo/emblem (some logos I love: Pan Mass Challenge, Cingular, Sun Microsystems, Atari, Nike, Tiger Wood's logo, Hartford Whalers emblem, Montreal Expos) and she should make them as a living. But these Beijing Pablo Picasso wannabe stick figure logos are off the charts. Check out the hoops dunking one...
25. Trash Talking- The olympics are supposed to be all lovey dovey, but I love that people/teams are all set with each other. It's supposed to be all puppies and ice cream, but it's not. And that's awesome. Fuck you world. Try to beat us Americanos. Because you can't. Unless it's some sport we don't give a shit about.
24. The Literature- I'm engrossed by all stories olympic. I often hate the sports section at this time of year (fuckin football pre-season), but in an olympic year? So money. I love reading about the money spent (23 billion? Are you serious?), but what I really love reading about is everything else. The participants, the rules, the games, the changes... Everything. I don't think there has been a human in the land who has Wikipediaed olympic related questions more than me over the past five days. Need to know handball rules? Need to know that Wes Piermarini went to UMass (Go... Go U...)? Need to know the new gymnastics scoring system? Come to olympic superfan Gerard, 'cause I got your answers...
23. Dubya Showing Up Everywhere- I mean, you all know my feelings on this guy. But he showed up at beach volleyball... And hoops! And he toted his daughter along! It would have been cooler if he toted his drunk, state school educated daughter, but he didn't, and so that makes it not ULTRA cool, but still. The guys the prez and he was amongst seven fans watching beach volleyball. Plus, I think I liked it because I saw the leader of the free world had back sweat, which is a real issue for me personally...
22. The Commercials- I got soul, but I'm not a soldier... I got soul but I'm not a soldier... I got soul but I'm not a soldier... I got soul but I'm not a soldier... Yeah, you know you gotta help me out... I got chills, but I'm not a loser... I got chills, but I'm not a loser... You know you just kicked my ass... YEEEEAAAAAH! (Marylou! Pre! MJ! And Lester!)
21. Synchronized Diving- Because regardless of my man crushes on Pitt, Clooney, Beckham, and Beringer; my $60 haircuts; my fancy jeans; and my love for chick lit; there is no one who is more ambiguously gay than these cats...
20. Badminton- I mean, for serious, this is an olympic sport?!? That same one you play in the back yard while holding a High Life. How awesome is that? When are they making darts an olympic sport?
19. Sunday Night's Swim Relay- Honestly, this country sucks. I like like 17 people total out of the whole place. And Sunday night was literally the best sporting event I've ever seen. Now, I know that you always hear this from and at the end of the day, was it really better than this years Cees or the '04 Sox? Probably not. But this IS Three Days Is Kinda Money and I only speak in hyperbole, so for the here and now, it doesn't get better than that. How can that dude possibly have made up that margin in ten strokes? it makes no sense! It was so awesome. Making it even more awesome was...
18. We Beat the French- All I do is defend the French. Seriously. I fuckin hate this country. I like France way more. They score an 11 on the coolness factor while we score a negative six. But Sunday night? Fuck the French. And their croissants...
17. Natalie Coughlin- Until one of you makes me famous, this is the best my surname has done. If she only realized that she were a goddamn American and we pronounced our name coff-lin, not cog-lin, then maybe I'd like her a bit more. That said, it's cool to see your name on the NBC in-the-pool graphic come race time.
16. Did I Mention the Commercials?-
15. Monochromatic Navy Blue- While nothing will top monochromatic maroon (UMass in the 1AA football finals) or monochromatic black (me everyday at the gym), monochromatic navy blue is pretty awesome. While other countries go with ridiculous colors (stop it Brazil and Sweden), the USofA has a classy navy. It's sleek and stylish and I've always loved it. I love it most on the English National Futbol Team, but it looks great on the Americans. Particularly when they are ripping spikes in six on six volleyball.
14. Bela Karolyi- Just seeing this guy makes me happy. Mostly because I know that there is a guy who is a worse human than me roaming the Earth, but that's irrlevant. We know this guys name. Why? Because he coaches an insane sport that we care about every four years.. And I love that he makes the most of it... Get paid Bela, even if you are a goon...
13. The Pose Down- Nothing made me prouder than the 4x100 relay pose down from 2000. Everyone here had a meltdown- largely because the team was all black- but that was an olympic moment. Why? Because everyone is always so "nice" in the olympics and this brought some freshness to the program. I love how much people hated this and it seems hypocritical seeing as where I love my low key guys (Mariano), but this was great. We smoked you world. Deal with it. If you don't like it... Get good and beat us...
12. Pros Play- They play in hoops, but they play in soccer, tennis, and hockey too. And I love it. It's the olympics. You send your best. And the best play professionally. Don't like it? Go to a AA baseball game. Get your "amateur" fill there. This is the world's stage and I want to see the best. Who do I want to see in the tennis final? Why, two guys named Roger Federer and Rafael Nadal. Anything else would be a bummer. If you don't like this, then you are either old or dense. And it sucks to be both. Bring on the best. It shouldn't be any other way...
11. Water Polo Goalie- Because I thought my job sucked.
10. Skanky Outfits- Be it beach volleyball (for dudes) or swimming (for chicks), seeing really fit, scantily clad people is cool. I'm a personal fan of the middle distance runners. Think these girls have eaten a Cinnabon? Ever?
9. The Three Dots Over The iji in Beiing- Thanks Molly. You were right. it does look nice...
8. Fencing- This sport is awesome because if it were 700 years ago, fencing would actually be called "swording" and the loser would likely die. In an age where duels are gone (I could name fifteen people I'd give my left nut to duel RIGHT NOW!), this is all we have. It would be way cooler if there were two people out there with samurai swords (Storm Shadow and Snake Eyes maybe?) battling away. But since we've progressed as a society, so we can't have that. So fencing we got.
7. Lando Calrissian Throwing Out The First Ball- Woops. Got my athletic events confused. Lando threw out the ball at Sox/Sox. It was just so cool I got confused...
6. USA Softball- How awesome is this? No one will admit it, but the USofA is so goddamn good at softball that they are chucking the event as an olympic sport. At first, I was upset, but then it made me laugh. It felt like that neighborhood game where you made upo some proposterous rule just to defeat someone you hated. I'll never foget the time when I hit a homer in the cavernous wiffle ball park that was Bibeau Stadium. I was the first "not high school kid" to hit one out of this huge park. I was also the most hated out of these non high school kids (fuckin Mike Fay ten years my senior always wanted to fight me because I was so damn good) and so I went to four o'clock mass with my mom (probably the last time I was in a church) and came back and Ted, Gregg, Mark, and Jeff had all "homered" while I left. Weird, huh? So that makes me love USA softball. Get good or go home. And if you can't get good, then nix the sport. The world is filled with pussies....
5. Winning Multiple Medals- Seriously, if you know me, I know this makes no sense. But I root so hard for the US. And nothing is better than multiple medals. I love when a favorite (Natile Coughlin) wins and then when another, less known teammate medals. It's incredible. But nothing tops a sweep. Nice work fencing chicks...
4. A Brother In The Pool- In the words of Nat X, I guess my people have decided to dominate yet another sport...
3. Womens Weightlifting- Holy shit! All things considered, I've actually slept with really good looking women!
2. Cable Coverage- Honestly, what the hell were we doing back in 1976? We can see EVERYTHING now and you know what? I LOVE it!!! I love that I can see archery, rowing, badminton (I'm currently watching the guys who Ortiz and Urlacher played in the Vitamin Water commercial), and swimming all in the same night (watching the olympics is made even better when you are a worthless teacher in August). Also, the commentators they choose for the events are phenomenal. They break down the events without insulting the viwer and it really is great. I have no plans to watch a movie or go out for the next week and a half and that is solely because of the olympics.
1. USA Hoops- LeBron... Kobe... Carmelo... CP3... Bosh... Did you expect something else? My boys... In monochromatic navy... Smoking a bunch of pussy Europeans... USA!!! USA!!! USA!!!
The 2008 Olympic Mens Basketball Team beats The Dream Team. Yeah, the 1992 Dream Team.
Without a problem (sorry ladies, you can stop reading now. The gymnastics post is coming tomorrow).
In case you have forgotten, The 1992 Dream Team had this roster:
Gambling Michael Jordan I Don't Have AIDS Magic Larry "I Don't Tip" Bird Gambling Charles Barkley I Ate John Starks Patrick Ewing Short Shorts John Stockton Flat Top Chris Mullin Mustache Clyde Drexler Soft David Robinson I Never Won Anything Karl Malone I Shouldn't have Been On The Top 50 Greatest Players of All Time Scottie Pippen Are You Serious Christian Laettner
My Nasty 2008 Roster Consists of:
Which One of You Tools Is Guarding Me LeBron Best Player On The Planet Kobe No One On The 1992 Team Can Guard Me D-Wade I'm The Same Size As Barkley Only I can Shoot Carmelo Beast Dwight Howard I'm A More Athletic Big Man Than Robinson Chris Bosh I Kill Stockton Guarding Me Deron Williams I Kill Stockton Guarding Me Chris Paul I Am Chris Mullin Only Better Michael Redd I'm A Natural Power Forward Carlos Boozer Lock Down Defender Tayshaun Prince I'm Not Good, But I'm Still Better Than Laettner Jason Kidd
Now, I understand what The Dream Team did in 1992. Beat everyone by about an average of 40, never used a timeout, had 11 guys score in double figures in a given game (bet you can guess who didn't).
But the world has improved. And while the United States hasn't won a gold in eight years, this is their year. They have a perfectly assembled team. And while we will never see the blowouts we saw in 1992, the U.S. will roll. And they will roll over teams that run out one of the world's best big men (China), one of the world's best all around players (Germany), a team full of NBA starters (Argentina), and a flat out force in Spain. These are not your 1992 Olympics. There is parity all around and the U.S. knows it and they are ready for it.
In the interest of full disclosure, I love USA Basketball (not women's by the way) and this roster is awesome. Something about All Star teams has always made me happy and having an all star team in games that actually count (as opposed to all star games) is exceptionally cool. There are some flaws in the team selection system because, yes, having Duncan, KG, Pierce, Arenas, Iverson, Camby (Go, Go U...), Stoudamire, or some other studs might be nice. But this team is pretty unbelievable. I also only started liking the NBA in about 1992 and that is about the same time everyone starting hating this sport. And while you all have been crapping on the NBA it has (yeah, yeah, you've heard this before) become awesome. Players are phenomenal. LeBron would be a center if it were 1960, everyone can shoot, drive, and make freakishly athletic plays (well, the stars at least. You still do nothing Wally Sczerbiak). So as I've said before, this ain't your grandfathers NBA. And while many of you wish (for what reason, I don't know) it were, it's not. Get over it. Today's NBA players get paid a lot, have tattoos and rock funky hair. And oh yeah, they can play. And just like the players from years ago they "play hard" and they "care." They just make more money than you, drive better cars than you, and are- heaven forbid- black. So for all of those reasons, you think this team is a bunch of selfish jerks who only care about the bling and the Cristal. Well, come August 24th, you'll see that this team is money. And hopefully then you'll shut up. Enough of my NBA public service announcement. Let's get to the match ups...
The two teams were created in a remarkably similar fashion. They are buoyed by their three all around studs, both teams have pure point guards, pure shooters, lock down defenders, rebounding beasts, and cagey veterans. Both teams have their obvious advantages (1992 has a size advantage and three of the greatest players ever, my 2008 team has freakish, unguardable all around athletes who can do more than players in 1992 ever could and a new breed of point guard) and both teams have their weaknesses (you're old 1992, you're young 2008). And with that in mind, let's discuss the match-ups.
There are a couple of different ways to do this as you never know who is going to guard who and which combinations are going to go against which combinations. You could go right up and down the roster and do match-ups, but that's boring. So we'll try to do it a little differently. Here's how a game might shake out...
The Starting Five
Magic, Larry, Michael, Sir Charles and Ewing v. Kobe, Lebron, Dwight Howard, Deron Williams, and 'Melo.
Magic presents a matchup problem, but Deron Williams is stronger than you think. Kobe takes Michael, Howard takes Ewing, 'Melo takes Larry (two defensive liabilities), and LeBron takes Sir Charles.
Now, I know what all you old folks longing for the glory days are thinking. What a match up joke, but really, is it? You all think that no one today plays defense, but did Larry play defense? And I think I heard something about Kobe playing D. Howard might be better than Ewing and LeBron- even though you think of him as a SG- would OWN Sir Charles. But let's look at it from the other side...
How are you, 1992 Dream Team, covering Coach K's boys?
My friends love to beg the question, "who cover's McHale?" when we have these generational discussions. But I ask you. Who covers LeBron? Is Charles playing this guy on the perimeter? You putting super athlete Larry (1992 Larry by the way) on him? Sure, put Michael on him. But then, who's covering Kobe?
As we know, you can't run your old 1992 team out there all game or they will die, so to the bench we will have to go and let's do just that...
My first guy off is D-Wade. Who covers him? He's virtually uncoverable now, playing against young studs. I'll put him against Drexler and they both will wind up having comparable careers. Further, while Drexler looked good 16 years ago, there are 25 (from Pierce, to Ray Ray, to Joe Johnson, to Shawn Marion, to Vince Carter, to Richard Jefferson) players like him in the NBA. His skills are no longer amazing. So I'll take unguardable D-Wade any day...
The two point guards off the bench are Stockton and CP3. Sure, Stockton is the assist king, but the position has changed and CP3 IS the future of that position. He eats Stockton alive and runs him off the court. Don't believe me? Look at their two best years to the right...
Power forwards off the bench are Carlos Boozer and Karl Malone. Anyone ever seen them in the room at the same time? They are the same guy. You remember and love Karl Malone because he was... ON THE 1992 DREAM TEAM!!! But really, he was a boring player who did two things well, but so does Boozer. Match up their best seasons. Boozer is Malone, only without the catchy nickname...
Chris Bosh and David Robinson bounce off the bench as the backup centers and while this looks like a run away victory for The Dream Team, remember all the knocks on The Admiral... He was soft, he was soft, and he was soft... And who better to put on a soft guy than a soft guy? Only a soft guy who is faster and younger. I always loved The Admiral and he obviously has the resume, but Chris Bosh ain't so bad...
The shooters are Michael Redd and Chris Mullin. Mullin could rain with the best of them. But guess what? So can Redd. In fact, these two guys might be the same dude. But because Mullin played in an era when everyone liked basketball and none of you would know who Michael Redd is, Mullin is considered better. Don't let the facts get in the way of a good story...
The lock down defenders are Pippen and Prince. Here, the Dream Team probably has me because Pippen could do more than Prince. But remember that Pippen did absolutely nothing (and I mean NOTHING) when he left Michael. And Prince is considered a pain in the ass as a defender. And further, he loves it...
The skank is rounded out by Laettner and Kidd and guess what? My skank KILLS your skank...
Again, you can't match it up correctly. You could match up lifetime scoring averages and the 1992 team would kill me, but scoring is down now and that's because teams are better. But here are some of the highlights of the game, as I see it...
Team 2008 shockingly wins the tap as Howard jumps out of the gym and directs the ball to a streaking LeBron- perfectly reading the tap- who leaves a stunned Barkley in the dust and windmill slams home two. This sets the tone for the first half, a half dominated by Team 2008...
Mailing it in with an easy post. At least you have a lot to respond to...
As you know, I have long been a Manny apologist/supporter. And they are certainly better with him in the lineup and people are ignorant if they think he is so easily replaced. But when my boy Gammons jumps off the bandwagon (he didn't even jump off the Bonds bandwagon), then I have to leave too. It's really too bad. You wish he would have handled it differently. It would be nice if he just went out and dominated and then forced everyones hand. But nobody likes someone who bails with a fake injury. Interesting who he has sat against too...
Saw The Dark Knight. It is good. Very good. Heath Ledger is absolutely worthy of every bit of praise being showered upon him. There is really nothing left to say that hasn't been said. The hair stood up on my arms every time he was on screen. Not over the top, not taking himself too seriously. I was worried that it might be a Daniel Day-Lewis like performance in which he gets an Oscar before anyone sees him, but that's not the case. He crushed it. Are we fascinated with his death? Most certainly, but dead or alive, the performance was beyond description...
That said, the movie IS NOT the Greatest Movie Ever as some people seem to think it is (I can't believe it's number one on iMDB right now). It ran too long and got too convoluted in the same way that The Departed did. And that's what i don't like about Christopher Nolan (I'm starting the Memento Sucks blog). Rather than realize that simple and subtle can be amazing, he tries to make everything an "epic" movie that has to make a "statement." The plot development introduced in the final 45 minutes should have waited until the next movie, but it wasn't bad enough to destroy the movie in a let's introduce-a-bunch-of-adult-characters-in-a-high-school-movie way like Superbad did...
Have you read Emily Giffin's new book yet? Well, you should. Love The One You're With is great and she is the Michael Jordan of chick-lit... You'll burn through it at the beach...
Well, under 100 days to the election and Mick Jagger- I mean Barack Obama continues to gather steam. And I love it. He's the greatest candidate to run for anything in my lifetime. But I'm standing by my statements: No way he wins. I like my steak medium rare Scott, with the mashed and steamed broccoli on the side...
Played some golf two weeks ago. While I always shit on the game, it was fun. A scramble really is the only way to go. But you have to agree with me that it completely sucks up your day. You can't do ANYTHING when you are done. And where are all the women on the golf course? A bar is still way better...
Great Top 10 List on joblo.com. It's about the best high school movies of all time. It's nearly perfect and I was so, SO happy about #2. That movie is just awesome and deserves some love. And who can argue with #1..?
Back to the Sox for a minute. While the Manny thing is sucking up all our time and energy, no one has said a single word about the two gaping holes in the Red Sox lineup. Jacoby Ellsbury (Johan who?), the novelty has worn off. Are you going to get a clutch hit? And The Captain... yes, I hate him and his flat top, but are you serious? I read that his VORP is in the negative, which means they are better off having a AAA catcher in his place. And can we stop the handling the pitching staff thing? I think that Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux won there 600+ games with a different catcher or two...
On September 23, both TV On the Radio and Cold War Kids have new albums. Think I'll be at Newbs that day? And CWK has a new song on myspace. Ridic. Something tells me you'll see them show up on my end of the year song list. Let's see if they have a tune that can unseed this years best song, "Le Ruse..."
And the year's best album? Easy. The Virginia EP by The National...
That's a cheat, since it's an EP, so I'll go Vampire Weekend. Put that on start to finish and you don't skip a song. Rare these days. And further proof that music is NOT the worst it's ever been Eric! You just gotta find the right stuff...
Shocking that Matt and Shayne Lamas from The Bachelor split up, eh? I always watch that show, but could ABC stop pretending that it's about people finding true love? Just embrace that it's about a bunch of people trying to get on TV and it would be a lot more likable...
Speaking of TV, I started to watch Generation Kill and it looks like great stuff. Wild place that Marine Corp. A gay joke every fifteen sentences. Races overtly hating on other races. Thankfully, it's a mini-series so I don't have to wait eight years to see the end. Now if only Mad Men were a mini-series, then maybe I'd watch. I'm sure it's great, it's just that my time is too precious what with my blogging, drinking, and texting Top Gun ("Get your butts outta that flight gear and get up to Viper's office... Now.)quotes at three in the morning...
Even more TV: Vinnie Chase and the boys are back September 7th. Don't care what anybody says about that show. I'll always love it, largely because I wish it were my life...
I swear, I won't flip flop on him, but it would be funny if Tommy Boy came out and threw like ten interceptions in his first four games on a way to a 1-3 start. It would be funny because the Pats would be 1-3, but what would be funnier is listening to all the Masshole Pat fans hate on Brady and blame his crappy start on his "Hollywood Life Style." That would make me like Brady maybe thismuch. Unfortunately, he's too damn good to have that happen...
I feel like the whole Budweiser getting purchased by a Belgian Brewery didn't get the play it deserved. How does this affect the good red blooded American? Will they switch to Miller or Coors? And how to Bud screw this whole thing up? This is a business fold of epic proportions and I still haven't heard how it all came unglued for Budweiser. Maybe it is because they haven't had a funny ad in 30 years...
Speaking of ads, cell phone companies have hilarious ones. That one where the Dad makes the lactose intolerant joke and the sons laugh is awesome. It can't beat the one where the two dudes are sitting at a table and one friend shows the other his lower back tattoo and before the sentence is finished, his friend across the table has him "out of his fave five and maybe out of his life forever." Hilarious...
I was thinking of going out on disability for the carpal tunnel I have developed blogging here in summer school. Anyone know some body building competitions I can enter..?
Raise your hand if you want Brett Favre sent to Siberia...
I've been watching a bunch of The Kingdom lately. While it has it's flaws, I feel it is a way better action movie than anyone gives it credit for. And watching Jennifer Gardner get her ass whipped (Literally. Whipped, as in thrown) around the room is awesome. Even more awesome is what she does in return. Such an intense scene...
Anyone hear the new tracks from Chinese Democracy yet? I heard one that was pretty good and one that was maybe worse than "Man In The Box." What do you think Axl is doing RIGHT NOW. I got money saying he is NOT rising early to greet a new day while eating an egg white omelette and watching reruns of 227...
Have any of you gone out to eat with old people lately? It's about as fun as a rectal exam. At what age do you just say "screw tact and politeness?" Is it 50? 55? I've said it once and I'll say it again. Hit me over the head with a shovel at 40 and spare me the agony. How long is the line for that honor..?
What's more delicious in the summer, a lobster roll or fried clams? More importantly, what's healthier..?
And along the lines of food, what is the price that cereal has to go to before we stop buying it? $7 a box? $8? $10? It's beyond insane. And it's not even that good. Or filling. And how much does it cost to make that box of Honey Nut Cheerios? Six cents..?
Last Batman comment... Last week Ty Burr wrote an unbelievable article about why The Dark Knight is currently the cultural phenomenon that it is. And he was dead on with a bunch of observations (you can read it on the right), but I'd like to add to it. I think that a huge part of the film is that males in their teens and twenties haven't had that movie experience when they can truly call a movie their own. They tried it with Sin City and 300, but upon further viewings, they probably (and hopefully) realized that both movies aren't good and so these said males couldn't make those films theirs. The Lord Of The Rings was a contender, but that was EVERYONE'S movie, not just theirs. We in the seventies and early eighties had Star Wars, Rocky, and The Indiana Jones movies. The child of the mid and late 80s was given John Hughes movies and even ET. The 90s brought us college boys Pulp Fiction and Seven and The Usual Suspects. Hell, the 90s even gave tweens their movie in Titanic. But it's been a long time since a film had a cultural impact and even if The Dark Knight is not that film, those born in the late 80s and early nineties are going to make it that movie. And, as a super fan boy nerd myself (of some movie that had characters named Fett and Solo), I can't hate on these cats, much as I want to yell at them for Nolan's attempt at making a Shakesperean Tragedy (just make it about Batman and the Joker dude! That was money!). So, congrats Kids of The Bush I administartion, you found your it film...
And lastly, big ups (and big, BIG good lucks) to my main man and brother, Mike. Wednesday and Thursday he takes the Bar. I know you're as nervous as hell Mike, but you're the snmartest person I ever met, present company included. You'll make it through. And if you don't there's always PBR and Monday in Central Park. And oh yeah, 35 years of working at BHS. Best of luck to my best friend...
To steal a quote from my brother, I have more in common with people in Alabama than I do the people who go out at night in the bars and clubs at Faneuil Hall.
There is a awesomely hilarious website called Get off My Island (link to the right) and as you can see, it deals with riff raff (Guidos) on Long Island. I think it's time we start something similar here in Boston because I almost couldn't believe what I saw a couple weeks ago.
You would think I would know by now. I mean, I really should. But forgive me. I live, shop, eat, and drink in a neighborhood of people similar to me. Melrose High, despite its' lunacy, has people also like me (most specifically Phyllis Dragonas). The people at my Bally's, my friends (despite their horrific fashion sense), and my family all think and act pretty similar to me. They've seen No Country For Old Men, they like Hang me Up To Dry, they shop at Urban Outfitters, they like breakfast places, Starbucks, Anna's burritoes, micro brews, sushi, girls with bangs, t-shirts, assists, Barack Obama, living by the water, Netflix, and roof racks. And they get stuffwhitepeoplelike (or at least they better or they are not going to get that last sentence). So really, maybe I'm the sheltered one. Maybe I'm the one that needs to meet some new people. Maybe I'm the one who needs to get out there and enjoy a little culture.
And so it was a couple of weeks ago that I crossed through Faneuil Hall on my way to the North End. A few steps into Boston's number one tourist destination, I thought that maybe I had fallen down and woken up somewhere else. I felt like Michael Douglas in The Game when he realizes he's in Mexico. Only I thought I was in New Jersey. Or Long Island. Or maybe Revere, Everett, Saugus, Billerica, Methuen, Tewksbury, or even New Hampshire. And for a brief second, I thought I had maybe pulled a Marty McFly and ended up back in 2001 and my Delorean drove right into Waterworks.
But after realizing that none of the above had occured, I put it all together and deduced that I was in Boston. Liberal, progressive, Boston. Home of gay marriages, Harvard Square, Newbury Street, overpriced housing, and The Phoenix. The place where Matt Damon and Ben Affleck grew up. The place that invented Guitar Hero and Rock Band. The place where the DNC was just held and where Barack Obama had his coming out party.
But as I stood on the threshhold of Waterworks- er, Faneuil Hall- I realized that the Boston that I know and love is not the Boston that many people know and love. In fact, as I stood there taking in The Striped Shirt Army (thanks again Mike and Matt!), oggling the blowouts, and tallying up the gold chains and Ed Hardy shirts, I realized that Boston- the city of my people- might be filled with more dislikable people than I ever though imaginable.
I mean, where were the hipsters? Where were the skinny jeans and the Asics? Where were the Chucks, the Western Button downs, the beards (not the chin strap ones either), and the shag hair cuts? Where were the ironic cut off corduroy shorts? Why was I seeing so much gel and so many tribal tatoos? Why did everybody look... like fucking Massholes?!?!?
And then it hit me: Massachusetts is full of Massholes.
With the exception of a few pockets of Boston and a few outlying suburbs (of which Pepperell is not one), the state of Massachusetts is full of lots and lots and lots of absolute, complete, total chuckahs.
Some of you may have heard that I have a strict No New Hampshire Policy, but I am thinking of changing that to a No Past Melrose Policy (might have to be adjusted to Lynnfield) in the North and a No Past South Boston Policy for the south. But given some of the ass clowns down there, I might have to make that policy in the south a No Past Chinatown Policy.
Now I know. I am sounding like a complete and total snob/poseur/elitist/pompous douche but I really don't like Massholes. Especially when they are guys.
I don't like the Yeah Dude thing, I don't like The LA Looks styled hair, I don't like the white hats, I don't like untucked striped button downs, and I definitely don't like guys who want to get in fights. I used to think that Massachusetts women were way classier than the dudes and to an extent, I still definitely do. But while Masshole Chicks are certainly more fashionable (thanks Forever 21, for making inexpensive rip offs of the clothing from The Hills and Gossip Girls) and less outdated than their male counterparts, they are often not much better, what with their love of guys who wear white Polo hats. They can be just as Massholey and have you ever really listened to the Boston accent on a woman? You know, that really thick South Shore/North Shore one? It sure ain't good.
I realize that some of this may be chalked up to my age. Perhaps I'm becoming wiser to such ridiculousness. perhaps I was a lot more like the aforementioned dudes when I was 23. Perhaps I'm just morphing into a salty curmudgeon.
But what I do know is that I never liked Faneuil Hall. I never liked The Rack or The Purple Shamrock and while I did spend my fair share of nights at Three Floors of Whores, I do know that I always preferred the Burren.
And so as I stood in stunned silence trying to take the collection of Massholes stnading before me, I realized that Boston is just too small. It's too close to the suburbs and there is literally no other "city" to go for almost an hour in any direction. While Providence, Worcester, and Portsmouth are all fun, are you really driving to those places if you live in Wilmington, Burlington, Tewksbury, Reading, Dedham, or Hingham? No, you're not and so the only place you have to go is Boston. And since the only place you know is Faneuil Hall, then you are all going to end up in the same place. Fanueil Hall is like the Masshole Perfect Storm. It's a combination of every suburb within a fifteen mile radius and all the little subcultures that each of these suburbs bring. It's Hollister, Uggs with a denim skirt, over sized button downs, baggy jeans, tilted hats, bad tatoos, and Dustin Pedroia shirts all rolled into one. It's like the Masshole melting pot.
And I can't blame these people really. What should they do, drink at the Benigans in Woburn on a Saturday night? I mean, yeah, that would benefit me and my fellow wannabe, poseur Bostonians (I'm from Burlington! That's like when Sue said he was from LA and he was really from Anaheim!), but it's not going to happen. But that's okay because we have other places to go.
And it appears it is those other places that have really thrown me for a loop. Because I have been sheltering myself in the various squares of Cambridge and Somerville with the occassional foray into the line free bars of Beacon Hill, Fenway, Boylston, and The South End, I have forgotten that Boston is not really the city I think it is. And really, why would I think it is? We are always late getting to the party fashion wise, our go out outfits are often adorned with the Patriots logo, the women are often not attractive, and there is nary a cool LA/Brooklyn/Brit Pop band to be found. While we CLAIM to be progressive politically and socially, we are about as far behind the pop culture/coolness charts as... Little Rock.
And that kinda sucks. Because if you want to live in the city, but stay in the area, you have very few choices. It seems that other cities (this from the guy who never travels) have much more city like people socializing/going out in them. I mean c'mon, there's no way that a bar in The Village or Soho or The Lower East Side sees a dude with the same haircut the Gotti Sons made popular five years ago, is there? Does San Fran and Chicago and Montreal and Austin and Seattle and Paris have this problem? Do those places have their own versions of Massholes invading THEIR cities just as we Bostonians have an invasion of Skecher wearing goofballs invading ours? For their sakes, I really, REALLY hope they don't.
But as I drifted out of Faneuil Hall, headed toward my dinner in The North End (there's a WHOLE OTHER scene! Does anyone there use their inside voice when speaking in The North End?), my irritation subsided, because I know that Faneuil Hall isn't the REAL Boston. I know that I still have my own secret enclaves where I could hang out amongst MY people- meaning poseurish white dudes who are too old to be wearing concert tee shirts. I know there are "hidden gems" where the beards are on hipsters and not on guidos. I know the places where you can find the PBR on tap and Feist on the jukebox.
And as I walked out of The Worst Place on Earth, I looked back for the briefest second, just to make sure that I wasn't in Doc's Delorean. Because if I was in said time machine, I probably would have seen some dude in a bucket hat, Abercrombie shirt, and jorts chanting Go, Go U, Go UMass and screaming about what a great pick Kurt Warner was in the last round now that he was starting over an injured Trent Green. Loser.
It would be cool to be Chuck Klosterman, instead I'm some dude blogging on my couch. Thankfully, it's not my parents basement, but alas, my couch is still pathetic. At least it's an Ikea couch.
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