Happy Father's Day

The following is based on true events...

It is the summer of 1998. A semi-old man walks into a split level home carrying several bags of groceries. Only his oldest son is home and as he unloads said groceries, the two engage in a conversation about Near East Rice and its off shoot products. Per usual, it is witty banter, but it evenetually turns combative as the two- despite their love of one another- can be somewhat competitive. The son, a graduate school student, is living at home. The father, a hard working, brilliant man, and graduate of Boston University, has an acerbic yet polite wit. He has long loved his children and he frequently defers to them. Except for today...

Son: Hey Dad. Need help with the bags?

Father: No, I got them all.

Son: You get something good for dinner?

Father: I actually did. I got a bunch of chicken and steak tips. I figured I'd buy if you fly. Only I bought and flew so that means you have to cook everything.

Son: (Ecstatic about the set up) Oh, that's great dad. I'll definitely grill that shit up. Thanks for getting that.

Father: Nice! I always mess up the grilling anyways. You kids are way better at it than me.

Son: No doubt, we'll take care of it.

Father: Is anyone else gonna be here?

Son: Oh,no doubt. Julie, Molly, and Mike are all gonna be here, so it'll be great.

Father: Nice. I also picked up some ingredients for a Caesar Salad and I got some Couscous (he pronounced this Coo-Shis), and a bunch of Bass Ales.

Son: (Immediately regonizing that the dad called it Coo-shis) That's awesome! It's gonna be a feast! Molly and Julie can make the Caesar and I'll crush the chicken and tips on the grill and Dad, by the way... (Son stammers)

Father: Yes?

Son: The stuff you bought that is like rice is actually called CousCous (pronounced Coos-Coos).

Father: That's great about the salad... And you're completely wrong.

Son: (Sensing an increase of tension) No, the salad is gonna be money, but what do you mean I'm wrong?

Father: Yes, the salad will be nice. And you're wrong about the Coo-Shis.

Son: What?

Father: The Coo-shis. You sound like a prententious dumb ass when you call it coos-coos. It's called coo-shis. Don't be one of those guys.

Son: Dad, listen, you're way smarter than me and you always have been, but it's called coos-coos.

Father: You are so pretentious. I know you hang out at those Davis Square Bars and think you know what you're talking about, but that word is clearly pronounced coo-shis.

Son: (Now becoming defensive and arrogant) Dad, listen, I'm not trying to one up you but it's called coos-coos.

Father: Horses ahhs it is. What the hell is coos-coos? No one uses that word! Jeez, four years in Amherst and you've become this pretentious?

Son: (Becoming extremely agitated) Dad, you eat sardine sandwiches and put raspberry vinegrette on your burritoes. You have no refined pallette. I think I know more about food than you.

Father: Oh, you know more about food than me? Well, if that were the case, then you'd know this word is pronounced coo-shis.

Son: Dad, stop it. It's coos-coos.

The conversation ceases for approximately eight minutes as both stubborn parties do not speak.

Father: Well look at this. There is a 1-800 on the Near East coo-shis box. I think I'm gonna call this and get everything straightened out.

Son: Go ahead. You'll be wrong.

Two minutes pass...

Father: You know what? I'm doing it... I will bet you fifty dollars you pronounce it coos-shis.

Son: You know what, make it a hundred. And you know what? We'll never know, so what's the point?

Father: Well, we'll know when I call this number and get it sorted out...

Son: What.. Err... Uh... Ffffpf...

The father picks up the cordless phone, peers over his glasses and dials the number as his son sits in stunned silence with his heart pounding.

Father: Hey, sorry to bother you today, but I love your product... Well thank you... It is very tasty... Anyways, I was hoping you could help me out. My family always buys your rice product, but tonight we bought a different product. It is the one called coo-shus. Now, I know it is called coo-shis but my I-think-I-am-smarter-than-everyone-else-son says it is called coos-coos. So I figured I would call you and settle this debate... Oh really?!? It is called coos-shis?!? Coos-shis you say? Well thank you! And what is your name? Millie? Excellent. Thank you Millie.

The son sits in stunned silence...

Father: See, I told you. Coo-shis it is.

Son: There's no way that can be!

Father: Well, get over it kid. You're wrong.

Son: I'm so sure it's coos-coos.

Father: Well, it's not. You just heard it from Millie. It's coo-shis. Call if you don't believe it.

The lady doth protest too much...

Son: You know what. I just might. Because I'm not buying it.

Father: Well go ahead. You're gonna be made a fool.

The son, because he is a liar himself, knows that he got his liar tendencies from someone, so he makes a fatefu;l decision.

Son: I'm calling.

Father: Go ahead. You'll be made an ass.

The son is now fired up and so he grabs the Near
East Box and dials the 1-800 number.

Son: Hey, listen so sorry to bother you today miss, but I just have a question.

Near East Rice Lady: Go ahead...

Son: Well, this is so stupid, but I just bought one of your products and I was wondering the pronunciation of it...

Near East Rice Lady: Excuse me sir, diidn't you just call?!?

Son: Ah, what?

Near East Rice Lady: Sir, you just called and I told you the pronunciation.

The son now is laughing because he realizes that there is only one person manning the phones of the Near East 1-800 number becase NO ONE CALLS IT!!!

Son: Well, miss, I'm so sorry to inconvenience you, but that was actaully my father.

Near East Rice Lady: What?

Son: Yeah, that was my father who called you.

Near East Rice Lady: My god. You guys sound exactly alike.

Son: Well, thank you I guess. Anyways, could you tell me how you pronounce your product that is spelled c-o-u-s-c-o-u-s?!?

Near East Rice Lady: Your father didn't tell you?!?

Son: Well, no, he did, but I kind of didn't buy it. That's why I'm callibng you...

Near East Rice Lady: Well what did he say?

Son: He said you said you pronounced it coo-shis.

Near East Rice Lady: He said that?!?

Son: Yes.

Near East Rice Lady: Well, he lied to you.

In the background, a door can be heard slamming.

Son: What?!?

Near East Rice Lady: He lied to you. I said you pronounced it coos-coos-. Which is how you pronounce it.

Son: REALLY?!?

Near East Rice Lady: Ah... Yeah...

Son: My god, I love you! What's you name?

Near East Rice Lady: I just told your dad... Millie...

Son: Well Millie. Thanks. You just won me $100.

Near East Rice Lady: Well that's great... And sir, can I say something?

Son: Of course.

Near East Rice Lady: These are without a doubt the most enjoyable phone calls I have had in my four years on this job. You and you father are such fun.

Son: Well thanks Millie.

Near East Rice Lady: No really, what a blast. I wish nothing but the best for both of you.

The son has no idea what to say.

Son: Well thanks Millie. Just know, you'll always be part of a great story.

Near East Rice Lady: Glad I was.

Son: Bye Millie.

Near East Rice Lady: Bye friend.

The son turns around to talk trash about his win, but the dad is not present. The son looks out the window and the father's car is gone. He may have lost the battle, but never the war...

It's stories like this that I think about on days like this. I want it to be a happy day, but it ain't. But then I realize, it's happy for a lot of my great friends who read and support this blog. So to Brian H., Scott T, Dave M, Jay G., Scott M., Brian C., Steve T., Brian J., Eric S., Steve G., and all the other followers of my blog, Happy Father's Day. Enjoy every second of it and know that the weirdest things will be the moments that your children cherish the most.

Love all you dads and all that you do and all that you've done for me. You guys make every day of your children's life amazing, even when it's a call to a rice company.

Love you all, but mostly, I love my dad, the greatest of all dads.

I hope you can read this dad. You did such a good job. My three siblings make me so proud.

And I hope we make you proud too.

Go coos-coos.

Of Hipster Hip Hoppers, Whiny Republicans, Braless Hot Chicks, My Cees, Stupid Special Ed, And The Dude Who Sang Mmmbop

Yeah, yeah. It's been over a month. Sporcle.com has done me in. It's also proven that I have far less knowledge than I thought I had, but anyways, on to the good stuff...

Let me get this straight. David Letterman- who hasn't made an inappropriate comment in his 45 years in the business- is now a pedophile? Here's why this is awesome: My conservative friends (and I have a ton!) are always hammering we liberals for "whining" and "taking things to seriously." Well, it must be dark days for the GOP because if they have to rally around this and try to get David Letterman fired, then it really is a sorry state of affairs for the poor Republicans. And when was rape mentioned? Was it when he made a joke about Bristol Palin, the senior in high school who was in fact, knocked up?!? Or was it when he said A-Rod raped a girl. Oh wait, he didn't say that. So wake me up when he says something offensive about gays, blacks, or immigrants, like Limbaugh, Savage, and Severin do nightly. Anyways, I've always loved Dave and I love him even more after this. Legendary...



Sticking with the Late Night thing, I've never been a huge Conan O'Brien guy. I do find him quite funny, but I just never got into him. But what NBC is doing to him by putting Jay Leno in prime time is just garbage. Conan must be like, "Thanks for the vote of confidence NBC!" Oh well. All those old, conservative bastards who like Mr. Hook Chin can go to bed 90 minutes earlier now...

We now officially have two months in Boston: winter and summer. July 4th is in less than three weeks and it felt like early April the past three mornings...

Night school has ended, so I plan on crushing my Netflix movies. I did see Twilight and I have two questions. What the hell was that baseball scene and why does Kristin Stewart only have one facial expression? Isn't she an actor? Act goddamit! She spent the whole movie being that overly dramatic emo kid you have in class who you want to punch...

Just two short years ago, I loved all of the star players in the NBA and then the Celtics got good and now I hate them all with an unbridled passion. I was so happy when LeBron lost and I wanted Kobe to lose so badly. I do not think there is someone I have more of a love/hate relationship with than Kobe Bryant. He is so good that it is almost nauseating but at the same time, he is just plain nauseating. Bill Simmons crushed an article on him Monday. he said everything I wanted to say, but can't. That's probably why he is employed by ESPN and I am employed by Lynnfield Public Schools...

Speaking of Lynnfield, cool Millie is retiring and it got me to thinking: Imagine being retired?!? You collect a check and are on permanent vacation. How unbelievable is that? I have 13 years in. What you think my pension is now? $136 a week? I might do it...

I've been waiting for a good hip hop song for years and I found it in The Knux "Cappucino." Of course, it took a bunch of Hipster rappers to make a good rap song. If only 50 Cent and Eminem could figure out that THIS is what we want in hip hop. Enjoy (and special thanks to my curmudgeon brother for showing me the way yet again)...



My boy Shaughnessey destroyed it again Monday. He ripped L.A. for their ridiculous use of the word great and for the beatification of Phil Jackson. My boy constantly gets shredded for writing anti-Boston articles (it's called humor kids), but Monday's was awesome. And he's right. If KG doesn't get hurt, we are having the second most fun spring ever this year...

I'm missing the Celtics even more because the Red Sox are officially doing nothing for me. Thankfully, I have three of them on my second place fantasy team, so I can watch them and root for them...

Full disclosure: One of them is Youkilis. It sucks rooting for Youkilis...

I have been to a plethora of Dave Matthews concerts over the years, not so much because I am a superfan, but mostly because someone is always inviting me (likely because they know I like to get drunk). And I must say that "Funny The Way It Is" is the best thing he has done it years. It absolutely rocks and has one of the best lines in recent music. Not that you care, but knowing me I'm sure you'll figure it out...



So I am going to apply for a job at the movie website joblo.com. They are currently accepting applications and they need a writing sample. Any suggestions as to which one I should send..?

I am officially done with the Sandbox on WFNX (although I keep listening). I started this as a separate post a few days ago and couldn't get angry enough which must mean that the show isn't relevant enough to earn my true ire. But my hatred for the show revolves around Special Ed. He is SUCH a contrarian that it is beyond annoying. Now, I know this is coming from Coughlin Contrarian over here, but I do not argue EVERYTHING just to argue it (I always have rational reasons for my points). He has to battle everything and I understand that a radio/television show works well when there is differeing opinions but he has really been too much of late. I wish I could give a more solid example, but like I said, he isn't even annoying me enough to recall one as I type this. I also think the show is trying to draw in a different crowd than what FNX used to draw in. Listen to who calls in some time. It's people from Southern New Hampshire, Billerica, and Tewksbury. I haven't heard a hipster opinion on there since the inception of the show. Also, their morning playlists have been god awful. Three months ago, they played to death every ALMOST cool song like MGMT and Airborne Toxic Event. They have now rotated out anything new and are instead playing old standbys Weezer, The Offspring, Foo Fighters, Sublime (you know I listen during that), Rage Against the Machine, and U2. And while I at one time liked Weezer and Sublime and Rage and The Offspring, they might be my generations alternative cock rock. By this I mean they are the types of bands you can SAY you like and still have music credibility, but at the end of the day, you are saying you like bands that are between thirty and fifteen years old at this point. Just play something new FNX and fire Special Ed...

Like my FNX blog, I also tried a blog after The National show/day. I could not put the day into words. I'll just say that I now understand Dead Heads and that Saturday was probably the greatest day of my adult life. How's that for a review..?

Hungry Mother has replaced the Highland Kitchen as the Boston Globe's most loved restaurant...

So, I didn't watch a morsel of American idol this year (well, maybe I watched a bit), but the hatred for Lambert was funny. I think people despised him so much because he was annointed The One by the judges and was always the favorite. But while he was at times screechy and was definitely over the top, he never rubbed me the wrong way. He was never really a tool and he seemed pretty genuine when that vanilla southern kid won. And I always found the screechy critique odd. I think Guns 'N Roses sold a few records with this screechy guy as a frontman...

Speaking of that vanilla southern kid who won, what's the over/under on his marriage lasting? I say 18 months...

Megan Fox continues to be the hottest chick I have ever seen. It's almost unfair to the rest of the chicks of the world. But reading her interviews makes me 100% convinced that she is a female chuckah. But hey, she did say she likes old guys and I qualify as an Old Guy. Although she is a chuckah, she is forgiven for reasons like this...



See that debate where they are trying to get rates changed on texting because it is almost 100% profit and the rates they charge are so high that it could legally qualify as price gouging?!? How awesome would this be for me since I think I am single handedly keeping AT&T in business with my texts...

I may have lost my music snob fastball because A) I love yet another Kelly Clarkson song ("I Do No Hook Up") and B) I don't even mind that song by Tinted Windows. In case you don't know who Tinted Windows are, they are a supergroup with some really old guy from Cheap Trick, a random guy from Fountains of Wayne, an Asian dude from Smashing Pumpkins (not Billy Corgan), and the lead singer from Hanson. Yes, that Hanson...

I actually hate Sporcle because the movie games puts a lot of pressure on me. I know that four of my four readers play a good amount of trivia and there is nothing worse than FEELING the pressure of the category that you are SUPPOSED to answer. For example, I have not played the name the Brad Pitt movies because I know I'll fuck it up and forget Seven and Fight Club or something...

Well, school ends in mere moments and a new countdown starts. 44 more days until The All Points West Music Festival in Liberty Park. It's a three day festival. I am going Friday night. You can probably guess why...

In the words of Schwarzenegger, I'll be back. Soon. Until then, here's to the summer...

I Hate People: Part II

Editor's Note: It has pained the author, no DESTROYED the author, internally to NOT tell this story to everyone he knows, particularly the people he sees all the time. He fought every urge not to tell it at Mother's Day Brunch. But he succesfully resisted and we at Three Days Is Kinda Money feel that we are all the better for it, because this may be the author's To Kill A Mockingbird

So last Monday morning, my barista called in sick to work and he was unavailable to make my morning coffee. Because I hit snooze one more time than I should have, I was very late and I could not make the coffee for myself. But because I am massively addicted to caffeine, I knew I needed a coffee or I was in big trouble. I weighed my options and realized that there was definitely not time to go to Diesel in Davis and there is nary a Starbucks on my ride. Lynnfield- because it is one of the three least hip towns in the world- has no Honey Dew, let alone a Starbucks or independent coffee shop. Someone probably wanted to open a cute local shop in Lynnfield some years ago, but they were evicted from the town after they voted democrat, which no one in Lynnfield does.

So, I made the fateful decision to slum it like Robbie did with Penny in Dirty Dancing and hit up the Dunkin Donuts on the Mystic Valley Parkway. I knew this was a terrible decision from the outset but it is A) directly on the way and B) I had a Dunks gift card (given to me by someone who quite obviously doesn't know me that well). Little did I know it would turn into the shit show that it did.

I pulled into this Dunks which, shockingly, was empty (when I was a young, foolish 26year old without the refined pallet I currently have, I used to frequent this Dunks and it was busier than Filene's Basement on wedding dress day). I ordered up my medium (I said grande for spite) French Vanilla and asked for just a "touch of cream" and one sugar. I was handed what appeared to be a vanilla frappe mixed with 140 Pixie Stix. To lessen the pain, I ordered a chocolate frosted doughnut (Dunks still gets these done by the way).

As I walked to my car, I took two sips of the coffee and thought about throwing it out, but the idea of the Hulk Out Headache I'd get stopped me from doing that. Instead, I held the door for the three guys exiting behind me and I noted that I looked like the person in that Sesame Street bit "One of These Things Doesn't Belong Here" as all three are in various painting/carpentry sweatshirts with baseball hats and workboots. The parking lot was now jammed full and I noticed that directly next to my Jetta (wonder which of the four dudes who just left Dunks owns that car?) is a giant silver van.

I note that there are several open spaces farther away from the Dunks (and by farther, I mean fifteen feet), but Sal Silver Van decided that he could fit his Ecoline in the spot between the lamppost and my Jetta. As I move to the car, I'm surprisingly not that irritated as my gym lot is tight and I often have to perform gymnastics moves to get into my car there. But as you can probably guess, my lack of irritation was not going to last.

I placed my sick coffee and sweet doughnut on the roof of my car and opened the door. As I opened the door, I gently tapped the Econoline next to me. I knew this was inevitable and made a point to do so gently. But I think you know where this was going.

I recall hearing a "hey," but assumed it was Pete The Plumber greeting Rick the Roofer and so I continued loading my foodstuffs and myself into my car. That is when I heard a door slam and saw a man standing in the tiny aperture that is the space between my Jetta and his Econoline.

In the back of my mind, I knew the "hey" was for me and so in the nine seconds between the "hey" and the appearance of the man who was dressed exactly like Malcolm MacDowell's Alex in A Clockwork Orange (I'm to assume he was a painter?), I prepared myself for the verbal conversation I knew I was about to have.

You know how you always later think of good things to say to someone? Well, in that nine seconds I somehow managed to game plan like Bill Belichick and so I was confident going into the battle that was looming. The fact that it was Monday and I had an awful coffee in my hand had me foaming at the mouth for a good fight. And so when Alex arrived, I was ready. The exchange went something like this...

"Hey," says Alex.

"Good morning. Can I help you?" (Can you feel my passive/aggressiveness?!?)

"Yeah... You can help me... Ya hit my cah..."

"Oh, you mean with my door?"

"Ya... With you DOOR, whaja think ya hit it wit?"

"Well, since I can't get in it to drive it, I figured I didn't rear end you."

"You being funny?"

"No sir, I'm not. It's just that there was no other alternative to hitting your car with my car door since you parked your car in such close proximity to mine. Despite that fact, I still worked diligently to not slam my door into your van and I only lightly touched it because I was presented with no other choice."

(Long pause from Alex)

"Huh?"

"What I mean sir, is that to get into my car I HAD to make contact with your car door and even then, I could barely get in."

(What I am about to write is 100% true. It is so stunning and caught me so completely by surprise that my response was not the "what?" like I didn't hear you what that I sometimes am a party to, but was in fact a "what?" like a "holy-shit-did-you-just-say-that-what?!?")

"Well, you could have pulled ya' cah up some befaw ya got in it!"

(It is my turn for a lengthy pause).

"What?"

"I said..."

"No sir, I heard what you said, but how was I to pull my car forward if I could not have gotten in it?"

"Well..."

"Should I have climbed through the sunroof? Or should I have used the force to disable the parking break and then push it forward?"

"Listen, don't get wise with me guy..."

I have now grown completely agitated.

"Sir, I'm not getting wise with you, I just didn't cause any damage to your car and if anyone has a right to be upset it is me since you parked like an ass clown by giving me no room to get into my car."

(Yes, I ratcheted things up by firing ass clown out there)

"Don't swear at me pal."

"Well, don't come out here and start yelling at me on a Monday morning for gently tapping your car with my door when I was extremely cautious about it and made extra effort to NOT cause your car any damage."

"Ya know what? I've had enough of this. I'm gonna get your plates and you're gonna hear from my insurance company."

(I contemplated many responses here, but settled on this)

"Well, grab your polaroid and take a picture of all the damage chief and have your insurance company send me a bill."

I proceed to get into my car which is awkward because he parked so close to.

"Hey buddy, you're not leaving just yet. We got stuff to settle."

"I'm late for work boss (trying my best to use every condesceding term in my arsenal) so I'm going to have to run. My name is Gerard. G-E-R-A-R-D. Write it down (that was taken directly from Seven by the way) Copy down my plates- that is if you can read (yup, went there)- and have your people contact my people."

"You're not going anywhere funny guy."

Alex then proceeds to stand in front of my car with his hand up. He must have learned this in crossing guard school. However, he must have skipped the class that taught about the reverse option on a car. So, instead of mowing down Alex, I simply backed up. I heard him yelling after me and then he starts to move to his passenger side door. I see him open it and eight days later, I am still confused what his play was here. Was he checking the "ding?" Reaching for a camera? A pen? A cell phone? A shotgun?

Whatever he was doing, I managed to evaluate a situation like I have never been able to evaluate a situation before. I felt like Tom Brady seeing the field and realized what it meant when an athlete says everything slowed down because suddenly, everything slowed down. And in that moment, I decided to do what I had now determined was the only thing I could possibly do in the enraged state I was in.

Settled on said decision, I evaluated the pass rush and scanned the field for open receivers. I was directly at the plaza exit and saw that not a single car was coming in either direction, so I could fly right out after I did what I was about to do. I saw that Alex was not in the driver's side, so he couldn't pursue me. I saw there were no cars with flashing blue lights in the parking lot. I saw that Alex wasn't looking at me. I saw my disgusting coffee sitting in my cupholder. I saw a giant, silver target... And I also saw something else; something that made me realize that my decision was justified and that this entire morning was fate; for there was really no other way...

And so I yanked my parking break and popped open my door, French Vanilla in hand. I emerged from the car, planted my right foot on the ground, and kept my left foot in the door. I squared my shoulders at the receiver, gripped the coffee cup so that the lid was held tightly with two fingers, as if it were an odd shaped baseball, leaned my right arm back...

And I fired...

I saw the ball (cup) sail perfectly through the air. The spiral was tight (nary a drop spilled out), I saw Moss open his hands (the rear of the van) and...

Touchdown!!!

My shitty french vanilla smacked his back windows square and exploded in a creamy, caffeine filled mess.

I had only a second to admire my handy work as my heart was pounding, so I jumped in my car, dropped the break, slammed the door, and tried my damnest not to stall.

And as I raced out of sight, I turned and saw a raging Alex crossing Mystic Valley Parkway and pursuing me on foot up the center median. Thankfully for me, the line of cars in the left only lane was small and just starting to move because the light had flashed green. I felt like Indiana Jones when he adjusted his cap and smiled after successfully grabbing the idol at the beginning of Raiders of the Lost Ark.

I hit the on ramp and was off an running for work. Chest pounding, music blaring, smile beaming.

And that last thing I saw? It was a license plate. I think you know the state name that was emblazoned on the plate.

New Hampshire.

Poor Alex. How was he to know that by simply choosing to garage his car in that redneck state, he would get himself a coffee car wash?

But what was Alex to know?

It was just fate.

I Hate People: Part I

The answer is 36,000.

The question?

How many people died from the flu last year in the United States.

And I mean the plain, old, vomitting, chills, diarahea, I-Really-Wouldn't-Mind-Dying-Right-Now flu that we get every year.

That's 36,000 or 18,000 times more people who have died from The Swine Flu.

I know that the swine flu hype is dying down right now and I'm a week late on this, but I just really hate people these days.

If you have had a five minute conversation with me in your lifetime, you likely know that I like to rage against the masses, but this isn't what this is about. It's about people being stupid, ignorant, fickle, and having a pathetic inability to think rationally.

I know I'm stealing a bit here from Michael Moore, but do those of you in my middle aged tier remember "The Killer Bees?" I think I first heard about The Killer Bees at my bus stop from one of The Musto Twins in second grade and I must say, I was horrified. But, I hope you can excuse me because I was, after all, 8.

But what ever happened to those Killer Bees that were coming up here from Guatemala or El Salvador or Mexico or whatever? Other than Hollywood making a movie of this (and I remember a group of kids being trapped on a bus, which is pretty much exactly how I envisioned it in y 8 year old imagination), they never showed up? Why? Probably because there was no such thing. But the more likely reason is that if you think about it, THERE IS NO WAY THERE CAN POSSIBLY BE KILLER BEES THAT WILL OVERRUN AMERICA AND KILL EVERYONE THEY COME INTO CONTACT WITH!!!

I mean, do you know anything about bees because I do not. But what I do know is that they do not travel thousand of miles across the world in massive swarms. Usually, they buzz about their nest in a garage and occassionally saunter over to a nearby pool to make sunbathers have a 15 second freak out. But what they do not do is FLY ACROSS CONTINENTS TO ATTACK KIDS WAITING AT BUS STOPS IN BURLINGTON, MASSACHUSETTS.

And then there's been other stuff that people panic about that make me crack up. Remember Y2K (imagine the US Government being so idiotic that a computer glitch would make planes come crashing to the ground), anthrax (this is still Justin Timberlake's career low... Admitting that he purchased Cipro on the black market because he feared Anthrax... And not because they were brining the noise), or the school wide searches that went on after Columbine (where did those metal detectors go?)? Then there was Mad Cow disease, Glade Plug Ins causing fires, cell phones randomly exploding, and myriad other preposterous myths that never amounted to anything.

Now, we have Swine Flu. Like Jules Winfield, I don't dig on swine. And like Jerry Seinfeld, I hate people.

I just amazes me that people continue to not have the ability to freely think for themselves and they buy into these utterly ridiculous myths, notions, scares, and panics. Is Swine Flu real? Most certainly? Are you going to catch it? Absolutely not. And if my Lowell readers manage to (don that mask Molly, Matt, Julie, and Little Jerry) catch Swine Flu, do you know what will happen to them? They will feel like shit for aa few days, get to miss a bunch of days of work, and get a forced diet that will give them wash board abs because they can't eat anything.

There's a lot to blame for this panic, including The Fifth Estate, which you all know I long to be a part of. But they have a responsibility to report on this, just as the government has a responsibility to protect us from it and warn us about it. I understand both of those pieces.

But can't people take this information and act a bit more rationally? Are more people OCD than I thought? Are tons of people germ-a-phobes and I just can't see it? Are people maybe more concerned about their health than I am? The answer to all of these questions is probably yes and although I'll never be able to enter someones mind and understand what it is like to truly fear being sick, it continues to amaze me that people are unable to just cool out.

It seems like that the "epidemic" is coming to an end and I hear the WHO (do they sing "Baba O'Riley?") are thinking about downgrading the scare, but I want to know more about the people who bought into this scare and wear face masks. Will they later be embarrased that they wore a face mask? Will they think they are losers for skipping a trip to Mexico in the same way that I think I am a loser for wearing pegged Skidz in 1992?

Or do they think they "did the right thing?" Do they think their precautions were just and proper? Like the people who bought duct tape and plastic in 2001, do they think they were just in their fears?

And that's more the fascination with this Swine Flu thing: The people who are scared of it.

I want to like people and respect their opinions. Really, I do. But in times like this, I just can't. But I guess that's what makes people people. We are all different.

Because if there were a world of me, we wouldn't hav made it much past the protizoa stage of development.

I've Got Another Confession To Make

I think Zac Efron is awesome.

Is it weird for a 35 year old dude to think that? Probably, but I don't care because I think he has the potential to be a great actor.

Many of you probably don't know much about Zac other than 12 year old girls really like him. My adult female readers (and I would hope all two of my female readers are adults because I'm not too sure my rants apply to Miley Cyrus fans) probably hate Zac Efron and think that he is far too effeminate to be considered good looking and that he is more pretty than sexy. But have you ever happened to see the guy a) act or b) in an interview?!? Because if you haven't, he's great in both. I'm serious.

I first saw Zac on a random episode of The Jimmy Kimmel Show two years ago (this is what you do as a teacher in the summer... Stay up late and watch TV, usually while drinking) and like any adult, I said to myself "Isn't this that High School Musical tool?!? And what's up with his hair?!?"

But then Zac started talking. And I found him extremely likable. He had this great self deprecating sense of humor, while also seeming quite bright and thankful of his superstardom. I remember him saying that while fans can get out of hand, they are always great and he really enjoys them. He described to Jimmy how he had not had any negative run ins and that people were very respectful of him. So after listening to twenty minutes of Zac Efron, I came to the conclusion that everything I thought about him was wrong and from there, I developed a secret liking for all things Zac.

Like a 12 year old girl, I then started tracking (only occassionally- nothing Pittish or Clooneyesque here) Zac. I would read about him when one of my students brought in a Teen Beat. I would keep TMZ on when I saw him parading around with his hottie (although poorly shaven) little girlfriend. I watched his Ellen appearance on YouTube and even paid attention to the VMAs long enough to see him present. And every time I saw him, I liked him more and more.

And it all came to a head this week when I went over to YouTube to watch the Yeah Yeah Yeahs on SNL and who did I see was hosting the show? My boy Zac. So, like watching the Headline News sports ticker back in college (we had to do this for betting purposes as there was no internet or constant score updates anywhere else) and getting hooked by a story of a grizzly bear attack, I got hooked by Zac when I should have been watching the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And again he was awesome. He was self deprecating, while at the same time being extremely likable and bright. And where else did Zac show up this week? Why Letterman of course. Did I watch it? Of course. Was he awesome? Yes he was.

So, I'm officially out of the closet. I'm a Zac Efron fan. A big one. And you should be too because he is both talented and likable, yet not fake likable. He is, in fact, not a tool.

Like many easy targets, it is not difficult to hate on Zac Efron. In fact, it is pathetically easy. It always bothered me when, in my mid twenties, people my age would hate on boy bands. I mean, really, how hard is that? As a recent stuffwhitepeople post said, agreeing to hate something is easy and what is easier to hate than a group of five guys who rose to musical stardom without playing an instrument or toiling in clubs trying to get that record deal? Hating on Lance Bass and Nick Carter was as easy as hating on ARod. Of course *Nsync and Backstreet Boys sucked and of course they were going to last as long as parachute pants, but if you say you didn't keep "I Want It That Way", "Backstreet's Back", or "Dirty Pop" on when they came on in your car and you were alone, then you're just a big fat liar.

And the same goes for Zac Efron. Hating him is the 2009 version of hating The Backstreet Boys. But I'm here to tell you that if you hate him, then you are stupid because really, you know nothing about him.

Think about it. He hasn't gotten into any trouble publicy. No Chris Brown slaps, no Shia LaBouf DUIs, no Britney head shavings. He doesn't think he is important or anything bigger than he is like Tobey Maguire or Val Kilmer did in their youth (and I loved Val back in the day). But at the same time, he doesn't try to put off a squeaky clean, I'm-really-likable-even-though-this-is-so-forced image like Kobe Bryant does. In the words of one of my least favorite humans, he is what he is. And what he is is pretty damn likeable, without seeming like he is just strictly "a nice guy." He might actually bring something to the table.

Will his career amount to Kirk Cameron's or Fred Savage's? Maybe, but the heat he is taking for not taking a "deeper" role than the one he is taking for his new film 17 Again is just plain stupid and ignorant. Know all those "serious" actors you love these days like Sean Penn and Tom Hanks? Always remember that they were Spicoli and a dude in love with a mermaid. Leonardo DiCaprio was in Critters 3 and Matt Damon was just your bigoted high school bully in School Ties before he was Jason Bourne.

Careers sometimes take time and they sometimes fail, but I'm here to say Zac's won't. He has the talent and likability to do good things and he is picking roles that work well for him. 17 Again, while not French Cinema, is a good in between move at this time in his career. He is stepping away from his High School Musical chracter andt popping up in a somewhat lewd (by critics acoounts) PG-13 comedy. This will keep his fan base happy and maybe turn him on to a few new fans who will think that he can actually act. Remember, Tom Hanks got a Best Actor nomination for his role in Big and Judge Reinhold got rave reviews for his role in Vice Versa. If Zac can pull this off a little bit, it will open some new doors for him. And from there he can take his Shakespeare in Love or Requiem For A Dream (he actually reminds me a lot of Jared Leto, only without the god awful band) role and become that "serious" guy that people so desperately want him to be. He just seems too smart to pick bad roles and he's definitely talented enough to be offered some really great ones.

So best of luck Zac. I'll be rooting for you because I like you and because you'll prove me to be one, wise sage if you are successful. Oh, and if you happen to read this when you come across this blog after google searching yourself, can you put in a good word for me with your hottie GF? I bet she'd like me if she met me.

Thanks kid.

Do the Red Sox Stink?

I know I sound like a cross between Shaugnessy, Lobel, and every chuckah Red Sox fan pre-Dave Roberts steal of second, but this team has holes. In the words of Chucky, I don't know much, but I know that. And I do have a history of calling these things as evidenced by my Rays blog last year before the All Star Break. I took heat for that, but it turns out I was right (what's that thing about the sun shining on a dog's ass every once in awhile?).

But I know what you're saying. "That was eighty games big mouth, not seven."

And you're right. It has been only seven games. But I've got to say. I already see this thing going badly. I do. And I have the history to back it up because this stuff happens all the time in baseball. Rewind to the 2008 pre-season and think what was written about a team that pushed the World Champs to seven games in the ALCS just six months before.

The league was talking about a team that could be a potential dynasty. This team had two young studs at the front of their rotation, a bopping designated hitter with a cool nickname, a five tool centerfielder, a bunch of solid 5,6,7 hitters who could jack 20 homers a piece, and they had a bullpen that had a bunch of fireballers. Oh, this team also happened to have a catcher who could hit .300 with 25 homers and 100 RBI, something this current version of the Red Sox definitely doesn't have.

That team was The Cleveland Indians. And by the end of the year, one of their young stud starters (CC Sabathia) was gone, the other (Fausto Carmona) was walking more people per game than Matt Young, their bopping DH (Travis Hafner) cool nickname (Pronk) hit .197, their five tool center fielder (Grady Sizemore) was striking out too much and hitting below .270, some of their middle tier boppers bopped (Johnny Peralata)... But other's did not (Asdrubal Cabrera), their bullpen was in disarray and that catcher? He hit two home runs. I know this because he led my pretend baseball team to a second to last place finish.

While the Indians did not tank (they finished 81-81), they were certainly considered a disappointment and when I saw them late in the year on the MLB Network, I did not see a lot of Pink Indian Hats sitting in the bleachers. Instead, I saw a lot of seats that were unfilled. And this exact thing can happen to the Red Sox because well... This thing happens in baseball. A lot.

Sometimes, no matter what the match ups look like on paper, they just don't translate to the field. Be it a rash of injuries, bad chemistry, untimely hitting, or just untimely luck, these things can happen. And right here, on April 14th, I am telling you it is going to happen to the Red Sox. Here's why.

1. Ortiz Might Be Done: Be it a clicking in the wrist, age, weight, no Manny, or a combination of all of those things, Ortiz is not what he once was. Again, there is a history of this in baseball from Cecil Fielder to Mo Vaughn to Greg Vaughn. Big, power hitting, lumbering first base types don't fade away, they burn out. Ortiz is clearly not the same guy he was two years ago and even then, did any of us believe it was going to last?!? When he carried the Red Sox through the 2004 post season and then hit 54 homers after that, I STILL didn't think he was a good player. I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop and while he proved me wrong for three years, I'm here to tell you that the other shoe has officially dropped.

2. Jon Lester Strikes No fear In Me Because He Has Absolutely No Out Pitch: I love Jon Lester. I really do. But even when he was dominating last year, didn't you always say, "how is he doing this?" Granted Greg Maddux and Tom Glavine did the exact same thing as both are first ballot Hall of Famers, but Lester just doesn't do it for me and it is because he isn't that dominating guy. He'll likely prove me wrong and probably have a phenomenal big league career, but these seasons happen to even really good pitchers. Andy Pettitte (who might be a Lester clone- not a bad thing by the way) burst onto the scene and had a sub 3.80 ERA in his first four years (in a hitters era). He then threw up a 4.70 ERA in his fifth year. Not because he's bad, but because this stuff happens and it could happen to Lester this year.

3a. We In Boston Way Overrate Our Young Guys And These Particular Young Guys Might Have Some Problems: No matter how cute you think they are or how much you hate Julio Lugo, Jacoby Ellsbury might not be that good and Jed Lowrie certainly isn't that good. Ellsbury is the type of exciting player all baseball fans love, but he is not an on base machine and the power certainly isn't there right now. He may be good and I want him to be awesome, but similar leadoff hitters like Hanley Ramirez, Johnny Damon, Jose Reyes, and Carlos Beltran were all better at Ellsbury's age and certainly had better tools than Jacoby does. He might just be what he is... A slap hitter with great speed who will run down balls in center. He will likely be closer to Dave Roberts and Darren Lewis than Johnny Damon. And Lowrie? Stop it people. He's a utility guy. The clutch doubles were nice when he first came up last year but he cooled off and water seeks it's level. Pedroia he is not.


3b. What's The Backup Plan When These Guys Tank?:Nick Green (while super dreamy ladies... Check him out to the right) and Rocco "I can't play two days in a row" Baldelli? Ouch!

4. Pedroia and Paps Can't Keep This Up: Aagain, they could be Craig Biggio and Mariano Rivera and walk into the Hall of Fame twenty years from now, but like Lester, baseball doesn't allow for flawless careers. What's Pedroia's ceiling?!? Can he be better than last year? I say no way. He can be as good, but you need good players around you. And Paps? With the exception of a few closers (Rivera, Hoffman, Wagner), these guys can't do it for even three straight years. Playoff hero and team MVP Brad Lidge of last years World Champs lost his job several times before regaining it last year. Again, I'll likely be wrong, but I'm just saying.

5. Bay, Drew, and Lowell: Remember those middle tier Indian guys I said COULD hit 25 bombs and drive in 90? Well, they could also play 150 games and hit .236 with 8 homers (Don't believe me? Go to baseball-refernce.com, type in Mike Lowell, scroll down to his 2005 year). For a team to win, guys like this have to play well SIMULTANEOUSLY. If just one plays well and the other two don't, it becomes a major problem. They are certainly all solid players and CAN have great years, but one guy is coming off major hip surgery, one is playing his first full year in a new league, and the other has a... How should I put this..? History? This trio doesn't worry me as much as some of the others, but they are certainly not Hall of Famers.

6. Daisuke: He's my favorite player on the Sox, but there is no way he gets the league to go 0-16 with the bases loaded as he did last year. And not to get too basbeall statistic technical, but the statistics say that a pitcher cannot put as many men on base and get out of as many jams as he did last year. For those of you less statistically savvy, I'll use these two words: Hideo Nomo.

7. The Red Sox Have The Least Frightening Bunch Of Supposed Superstars I've Ever Seen On A Team Picked By Many To Go To The World Series: They need an intimidator like Chewie out there. For real. Okay seriously, I know what the statistics say. And I love statistics. I know that Youkilis and Pedroia are awesome. And Beckett too. But for some reason, no one on this team instills the utmost confidence in me. No one's at bat or start is an event. If I were dating a Yankee fan (actually, I am!), I would tell them to be scared of NO ONE on this team. I know that a lot of them are young and will have a chance to develop that pedigree and I also know that workman like "teams" from the Twins to the Angels have produced winners, but who on this team would you want up at bat or on the mound in a "must" situation? There is no Pedro in his prime or Pujols or 2004 Papi or 1989 Dave Stewart on this team. In fact, there isn't even a Josh Hamilton or an A-Rod (shut up people... He's carried teams before). There are just a bunch of... Really boring guys who at the end of the year may wind up winning 81 games. And that's not good enough.

Or, they will win 96, capture the East, and roll on into The World Series as the anti-2004 Idiots.

And maybe that's part of my problem.

I had The Idiots. I want The Idiots. I need The Idiots. I love The Idiots.

Because not only does this team bore me, but I think they have the potential to be boring and to suck.

Not a good combination.

You Had Me At Hello

I mean that seriously Boston Globe. You really did have me the second I met you.

Half the reason I write is because of The Boston Globe, specifically their sports section. I'm not sure when I began reading The Globe as I'm sure I had to be a bit older, but I can clearly remember the Sunday baseball notes section written by Peter Gammons was the first in the history of my required readings. We'll get back to Gammons in a second, but before that, a few other thoughts.

There are those older than me that absolutely shudder at the thought of the Boston institution known as The Globe potentially being shut down. But for those of us right around my middle aged 35 years, it is equally devastating.

If you are 32-40, you are a media tweener like me. I text, I read all sorts of online publications, IMDb has literally changed my life (I know no longer have to scroll through the credits to who sang a catchy song I loved... I can just look it up in the IMDb Soundtrack Listing). But I also have five magazine subscriptions, would die before I used a Kindle, and love, love, LOVE my thirty minutes at night where I get to read The Boston Globe.

I know I can get all the same stuff online, but I'll never be able to make the transition. Reading boston.com seems like work. The real, actual, physical paper still seems like enjoyment and leisure. There is nothing better than perusing every section of The Globe and stumbling across a great story. As Dan Shaughnessey (we'll get to him in a moment too) said on FNX yesterday morning, you can't do that with boston.com and I completely agree with him. An online newspaper is not friendly to surfing and finding something you would have never found. And there's something to be said for that because when you find and read about something that you were absolutely clueless about you... You know... Learned something.

And that is something else I owe to The Globe: Learning.

As we get older, it seems like we get dumber. We don't have much to challenge our minds and we become specialized at our jos. But if you read the paper everyday, you can learn that Somalia is even worse than it was post Black Hawk Down , you'll be reminded of how wild The Isabella Stewart Gardner Museuem robbery was, and there is a drinking problem at UMass (actually, maybe I didn't need The Globe to get that info).

And every part of The Globe brings something to the table. Everyday, I have something to look forward to, be it Coupling on Sundays, Luke O'Neil's Barcode on Thursdays, Devra Frist's salty restaurant reviews on Wednesday, the ease of the Monday crossword puzzle, and Wes Morris's hilarious film reviews on Friday. I don't know if I'd enjoy these that much if I read them online and I'm serious.

But what really always made me a loyal Globie (can I make that happen?) was the sports section. As I've aged, I've become far less interested in sports, never more so that now. My football aversion is well documented, the Sox are painfully white, Cam Neely is now President of Player Personnel (when the hell did he stop beating the shit out of Ulf Samuelsson and move up to the front office?!? I guess I missed that.) and any BC coverage has always and will always make me want to vomit.

But I have still always found a place in my heart for The Globe sports section. They have run out a bastion of all stars over the years. Will McDonough virtually made the NFL. I hated boxing, but read the boxing notes because Ron Borges was so awesome. Michael Smith and Michael Holley got their starts their. Kevin Paul DuPont and Peter May cover hockey and basketball as well as anyone. Back in the day, Leigh Montville was as good a columnist as their was (I still clearly remember his final article, titled "I Remember," which I once went back and read on microfiche because I wanted to see if it was as good as I remembered. It is.). And their is nothing funnier than the dude who writes "The Picks" section on Friday's during football season.

Then, there are Bob Ryan and Dan Shaughnessy. Hating these two has become a right of passage for any Bruschi shirt wearing, PJ Stock loving, Pedro hating, Masshole. If someone tells me the hate one of these two (particularly Shaughnessy), I immediately want to fight them. Ryan has created more tangible controvery over the years with his slightly racist sounding use of the word punk to describe Antoine Walker and his dispicable and idiotic comments about Juwanna Kidd. But the guy always brings it. He is still super relevant and may be the best NBA writer in the country. Even as he ages, his connections, opinions, and stories are still always relevant. And there's no better writing than his emotying out the sports desk drawer of the mind.

Back to Shaugnessy. The never ending hate is quite simply lunatic. Especially annoying is when half wit, wannabe bloggers (I'm talking to you El Pres of Barstool Sports) who can't write for shit dump on Shaugnessy. Even more annoying than that is when The Big Show dumps on Shaughnessy. Didn't he leave WEEI like, ten, twelve years ago? Why you still hating Big O? You sound like a scorned ex-boyfriend. Let it go. Like my girl Emily Giffin said, the opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference.

Hate all you want you fools, but Shaugnessy is awesome. And it boggles my mind how people continue to not understand him. Almost everything he says is toungue in cheek and as a columnist, you are SUPPOSED to have an opinion. Well an opinion, he's got. You don't always have to agree with him (I often do, I must admit), but you cannot disparage his writing. Does he mail it in from time to time and write a puff piece? Most certianly. But how many times did you mail it in this week at work? Rip his opinions and shred his ever growing cynicism, but do not discredit his writing. Between blogs and message boards, EVERYONE thinks they are a writer, but few are as amazing as my boy Dan. And if you disagree with me, then you are a moron who knows nothing about the art of writing. He's the second best Globe writer there ever was.

The best? Well that's easy. Peter Gammons.

Peter Gammons virtually created everything that we love about baseball. Hisstatistical analysis and trade coverage are the reason why fantasy leagues exist and why there is omething called The Hot Stove. He is responsible for countless front office jobs throughout the game (don't believe me? Google "Theo Epstein on Peter Gammons" sometime) and his name is attached to a baseball sub culture: The Gammons Youth.

Before there were Fantasy Baseball magazines, the USA Today and Sports Illustarted Baseball Previews, holds, WHIP, fnatasy baseball sights, Baseball Tonight, and Bill James, there was Peter Gammons.

As I wrote above, he was must reading on Sundays between the ages of about 8 and 28. In fact, the two worst words in the history printed media occured when you opened the Boston Sunday Globe and saw the byline in The Baseball Notes column read: Gordon Edes (I like Gordon by the way, just not as much as Gammons). And while Gammons seems old and often has weird love affairs with young guys who aren't that good (I kept drafting Bobby Fuckin Crosby in fabtasy leagues because of you Peter!!!), he is still a must listen or a must read. While roughly 92% of the trades he has proposed in his thirty year career have not come to fruition, you ALWAYS believed them and thought about them when he brought it up. And in a time before the internet, he was the only guy you could get SPECIFIC information from. What I mean by this is the back of a baseball card always gave you the stats of a guy, but they never gave you who had the best outfield throwing arm (Mark Whiten back in the early 90s) and who had the best breaking ball (Tom Gordon when he first came up with the Royals). Gammons came along and told us this on a weekly basis. And when Sportscenter starting hitting it's stride in the late 80s and early 90s, he would give us his Diamond Notes and that two minute clip was pretty much a televison orgasm.

It's more than the nostalgia I have with The Boston Globe though. It is a tremendous newspaper with great reporting. And as I said before, I am convinced that reading the paper makes you smarter. Is this a certified scientific fact? Absolutely not. But I feel that pushing yourself to gain multiple views and potentially learn new words and stay up to date on the issues HAS to make us smarter, doesn't it? And that's why I find it so important to having a paper in this city that I love.

These days, it seems to be the cool thing amongst conservatives to hate on The Globe and hope for it's demise. Strangely, the most positive articles I have read about The Globe have come from The Herald, which has been wildly refreshing. But for those conservatives laughing at The Globe, it is one more reason to hate you. Why would you hate something that makes you smarter? And that is good? Forget the politics for a second and ask yourself, what would you read? The Drudge Report and Fox News can only give you so much. Don't your prefer to have a bit more diversity to your learnings (since you're conservatives, probably not, huh?)? And is there sports page about poltics? How about the G Magazine and the Help Wanted section? They political? While we can get all sorts of information in all sorts of places, it is difficult to argue that for less than a buck a day (with subscription) you can basically get the whole world.

I know The Globe has fucked up and I know the newspaper industry is in flux to say the least. The whole industry seemed to be painfully behind the times with the transition to the electronic world. But not everything can be blamed on something as simple as that. As a society, we are reading at historic lows (This is true, believe me. The book industry is getting shellacked if your title does not contain the words Harry, Potter, or Twilight in them) and we have less time to read the paper (the number one reason subscribers cite as their rationale for cancelling their subscription). I also think that people read more online because it is easier to get away with at work. If I'm on hall duty, I look like far less of a slacker if I am in front of my laptop as opposed to thumbing through the sports section, even though I'm doing the exact same thing on the computer. Also, young people haven't embraced the paper. Yes, I sound like an old bag, but when's the last time you saw a kid reading the paper in class or on the T? Remember those days in collge? Everyone killed time by reading the newspaper. Now, they listen to their iPods and surf their wireless Macs.

God did that sound old.

But if The Globe really does go the way of New Coke, I'll miss my paper.

It completes me.

Ladies, Under No Circumstance Should You Be Doing This

Yes I still blog.

It's been a while, I know. This new job is KILLING my blog time. As are my incredibly busy weekends consuming alcohol, drafting fantasy teams (THAT preparation sucked up a good bit of my blog time!), eating buffalo wings, seeing bands (House of Blues might suck), getting smoked on college basketball bets (you gotta hit that wide open three to cover, you Louisville scrub!), and arguing with my friends on email (most of my writing time has gone there). But anyways, I'm back and I've got loads to talk about, so be ready for a rash of posts.

But even with all of this going on, I did find some time to watch women's basketball on the treadmill the other day and you know what I figured out?

It is awful.

Like, sour milk, frizzy hair, Caddyshack II, Christmas Fruit Cake awful.

In fact, it is more awful than all of those things put together.

I wish that my liberal, Title IX LOVING, smash through the glass ceiling side of me could come out on this one, but it cannot. I wish I could lie and support these surely wonderful ladies. I wish I could say I want to go to a game or wax poetic about the greatness of the game.

But I cannot.

Because women's college basketball is just sooooo bad.

I may be offending a female reader or two with this one (does this bother you Gees?), but c'mon. It's awful and you know it. Search your inner feelings young Skywalker; you know this to be true.

I mean, really what's to like?

Do you like the ugly set shots, or the painfully slow developing fast breaks? Do you like Pat Summitt's face or Gino Auriemma's skeaziness (BTW, when is a woman going to coach a men's sport? Imagine Jenny Finch strolling out to the mound to yank CC Sabathia from the game after 5 2/3 innings? Does he hand her the ball? Does he even look at her? I mean, she'd probably be better than Grady Little at knowing when to remove pitchers from the game and bring in a reliever, no? We will truly know the glass ceiling has been shattered when I see a woman grab the ball from a pitchers hand on the mound at Fenway and slap him on the ass.)? Maybe you like the fact that you can follow your favorite Stanford Lady Cardinal to the WNBA or the weird screams that permeate the audience after a "big" shot goes down. Or perhaps you like the awkward chest bumps (these creepy celebrations make Phil Mickelson's victory leap at
The Masters seem hip and cool) or those high flying slam dunks? Oh wait, those don't exist.

Interlude: I mean really, have you seen the chest bumps? They do this in women's college basketball. A lot. The chicks who do this make two women tits touching as sexy and hot as The Barefoot Contessa and her husband kissing.

What makes women's basketball even more painful to watch is that I am pretty sure me and four members from either my 1996 UMass Intramural team or one of my Melrose High Faculty teams (Brennan would be a must. You too Wall and Turner) would defeat Oklahoma. In fact, it pains me to watch these women so much that I'm pretty sure I could beat them at anything. I know I sound like a younger, but equally ignorant version of Bobby Riggs, but I'm not letting these women beat me. At anything. It can be a three point contest, a speed skating race, a table tennis game, Boggle, a free throw shooting competition, Name That Tune, a hot dog eating contest (although that linebackery chick on Oklahoma could probably take me down), or even a sprint. It doesn't matter what we play, but I gotta say, I'm not losing to these chicks. At anything. I mean c'mon, imagine losing to Rebecca Lobo at ANYTHING?!? I'd have to let one of you kill me after that (no shortage of volunteers there, I'm sure)!

I know this sounds outrageous, but I feel this way. I really do. I wish it weren't, but it is. Part of the problem is that the media is shoving women's basketball down our throats and TRYING to make it happen. It's like Gretchen Wieners in Mean Girls trying to make Fetch happen. It's just not going to work. I have a hard enough time watching mens college basketball (I'll save that for a March 2010 post. But seriously, take the brackets and gambling out of mens college basketball and what do you have? Lots of guys who can't shoot and turn the ball over way too much) as it is painful to watch any sport that is NOT played at the highest level. Yeah, I like they they play with "heart" and for the love of the game, but when you have the NBA to watch on another channel, why would I watch a lesser brand of the same game? I know people hate on the NBA and that's fine, but you hate on it for all the wrong reasons. I want to watch something played at the highest possible level. Why do you think no one goes out to Hillview to watch a bunch of old guys hit worm burners from the first tee?!? Because it sucks. Just like women's basketball sucks. And you want heart? Go watch a little league game.

I wish women's basketball would take a cue from the MLS and realize that they have a niche audience (although, apparently, that "niche" audience is made up of 138 people because word is the WNBA is officially done) and stick with that. Let the folks at Stanford, Tennessee and UConn enjoy their women's hoops, but for the love of god, stop shoving it down our throats because we just don't care. And ESPN, just stop it. Please. No one who lives outside Storrs, CT cares about the UConn perfect season.

I really want to support it, but I feel like I'm saying (writing) what so many people feel, but are too afraid to say. And as I write this, I realize it's not solely about the fact that it is women's basketball so much as it is a game that is played at an inferior level (it's the same reason why I don't watch Sci-Fi Channel horror films like Sasquatch Attacks II). I might like it more if it wasn't so in our faces. I mean, we got a woman Speaker of the House. Isn't that enough for you chicks?

Well, there goes my three female readers. Thanks for supporting me ladies! It's been a trip!

Say What?

As I was sitting in a middle school meeting today wondering who was worse, Scott Boras, Julia Roberts, Idi Amin, that dude who played Shaggy in the movie version of Scooby Doo, Chris Daughtry, Voldemort, Spencer Pratt, Anderson Varejao, Amon Goeth, or the lady chairing the meeting, I heard someone utter the phrase, "we're going through a transition period with the seventh grade English class." And I got really irritated.

Because I fucking hate the phrase, "transition period."

There are trends for everything. Shoes, music, home decor, restaurants, jeans, alcoholic beverages, handbags, travel spots. There are even trends for baseball offensive approaches. And it appears that there are even trends for phrases. And "transition period" is one of those trendy phrases.

Was this phrase used fifteen years ago? Do you remember the bouncer at Time Out saying, "Oh no. We can't let you in this week. Ever since the ABC fined us for being over capacity, we have been in a transition period."

I'm not sure when I first heard this phrase, but in drives me fucking nuts. And what does it even mean? I know it usually carries a negative connotation. In fact, people whisper the phrase when the talk about someone who is in transition. On my therapists website, she advertises herself as a therapist for "men in tansition." And if you're in therapy, things can't be going too well. And so if one of the reason you might be in therapy is because you are "in transition," then transition can't be good, right?

Anyways, if someone actually knows what this phrase means, could you fill me in please? In the meantime, here are a bunch of other phrases (trendy and old) that I A) Don't get or B) Hate because they were created by pseudo intellectual fucksticks.

Boys Will Be Boys: Usually, this is uttered by someone with the IQ of a chalkboard. It is also usually used to describe a completely reprehensible and entirely unacceptable social behavior perpertrated by an idiot dude. I'm not sure what makes me angrier, the fact that people actually believe this statement or the fact that people think it is a rational answer to irrational acts.

At The End Of The Day: This is usually used for sports arguments. "At the end of the day, who do you want in your lineup, Jason Bay or Manny Ramirez?" Well, what day is it? Is it the day of the seventh game of the world series? Or is it a regular old day that will be a lot like the day that is coming tomorrow? Days are short and they are repetitive and they are awfully similar. Shouldn't we say, at the end a generation? Or even, at the end of humanity? Like, "at the end of humanity, who do you want in your starting rotation?

It's Like Comparing Apples To Oranges: In case you haven't noticed, apples and oranges are awfully similar. Both fruits. Both edible. Both sweet. They are one color away on the rainbow. They are roughly the same shape. They are roughly the same size. They grow on trees. They are in fact, almost exactly alike. Short of Dermot Mulroney and Dylan McDermott, I can't think of two things more similar.

Live Free Or Die: Are you really serious still keeping this around New Hampshire? I didn't know Tianemen Square had been moved to downtown Portsmouth.

I Threw Out My Back: Is this a medical term? Or was you back stale and moldy and had thus become detritus and needed to be placed in a garbage pail? Or does it just mean your back hurts? My back hurts all the time, but I don't think I threw it out, mostly because I don't know what that means. And on Saturdays, when I drink 12 PBRs and wash them down with a pair of espressos martinis and wake up the next morning and my head hurts, did I throw out my head?

I Don't Like Surprises: So, on the fun scale, you fall somewhere between Malaria and prison sex? I mean really, who doesn't like surprises? When has the phrase, "I have a surprise for you" ever been followed by something bad? Do they same people who don't like surprises also not like ice cream, dodgeball, flip cup, and Morgan Freeman? Surprises are awesome. Except if you're Stephen Rea in The Crying Game.

I'm So Tired: Oh, you are? Because I'm fully and totally rested after my twelve hours of sleep yesterday.

I Don't Watch TV: I must admit, I am a recovering "I don't watch TV" sayer. But then I realized that it was idiotic, because although I have no idea at what time and on what channel CSI and Law and Order are, I watch more TV than Floyd in True Romance. When people say this, they are trying to talk down to you, but what they really mean is, "Oh damn. I wish I could be part of this conversation about The Bachelor because I kind of want to be, but instead I was trying to make Rogue Waves: The Science of Tsunamis happen on Nat Geo so I could feel good about myself." Admit it people. You watch TV. That's all you do. And if you aren't, what exactly are you doing from 9-11 on Tuesday's? Playing in a floor hockey league? Reading Us Weekly? Or splitting the atom?

I Feel So Bloated Right Now: You're not bloated. You just feel fat because you washed down that big beef cheeseburger and crinkle cut fries with a Jim Dandy. So either go vomit or starve yourself tomorrow. Either way, you're fat. Deal with it.

I'm too old. I Just Can't Do That Anymore: Usually in response to someone who states that they drank both Friday AND Saturday night. Translation: My life is miserable right now. I really wish I could have been with you drinking Friday and Saturday night. But I'm old as fuck now.

I Don't Feel Good: A more genralized version of "I threw out my back" and "I'm so tired." Still, I don't know what this means. Does your stomach hurt? Because my stomach hurt once. I had to stay in for recess because of it.

People In Glass Houses Shouldn't Throw Stones: Why would someone in a house be throwing stones? Where did the get the stones? Do they have a little brook in their glass house? Or a stone wall? And who throws stones anymore anyways? The last time I heard people throwing stones was in that short story The Lottery.

I Could Care Less: So, what you're saying is that you do actually care about said subject SOMEWHAT because if you COULD care less, then there is- in fact- something that you could care less about than the subject currently being discussed.

Bringing Closure To This: Closure? What? Have we really made this a word? A word we actually use? Who made this up? The same people who name their kids Blake Alexander the Third? And is there closure? Once someone says we are bringing closure to something, is it closed? Can I not think of it anymore? Can I bring it up again? Because closed just means temporarily shut down. Like JC Penny closes, but then opens back up. Should we say, "Bringing Chapter 11 To This..." Would that make more sense? It might.

Anyways, consider this topic closed. Or closurered. Or something.

Of Monsters And Ghosts; Steroids And Cheating; Bar And Hotness; And Facebook

So this is going to sound ridiculous and I'm having a lot of trouble expressing my opinion clearly, but the use of steroids in baseball is NOT cheating. Cheating is the wrong word. I'm not sure what the right word is, but here's my logic: The using of anabolic steroids- yes, I understand they are an illegal drug- was not OUTLAWED by major league baseball while it was happening. In fact, baseball may have loved it. The Sosa/McGwire home run chase saved baseball post strike and fans were turning out in record numbers during the "steroid era" (such a stupid name by the way), so clearly, these same fans that are crying now about "cheating" were NOT crying then. Maybe we were all naive and convinced ourselves it wasn't happening, but it was. And it probably happens in every sport. Yeah, we can be outraged and hurt, but millions of dollars are at stake for these players and any edge they can gain, they WILL gain. Particularly when their sport says that steroids are NOT illegal. Again, I understand the outrage, given the historical pedestal we put baseball on (and I like that by the way- it's the only sport where you can talk about players from different eras and NOT have it be a ridiculously stupid conversation), but it's not cheating. I guess I think of cheating as something that is deliberately and knowingly done by a person who KNOWS that they are cheating (dealing off the bottom of the deck, lying about your golf score, pretending you hid a five hundred under the board in Monopoly as a "savings"). While these guys KNEW they were taking an illegal drug, the sport they played said it was okay, so why not do it....?

Down year for movies was 2008. There were a lot of solid films and nothing I loathed like Juno and Little Miss Sunshine, but in comparison to recent best picture nominees like Sideways, Million Dollar Baby, Michael Clayton, No Country For Old Men and should have been nominee United 93, 2008 just didn't make the grade. I have been happy to see that some critics agree. That said, Slumdog is awesome. So is The Wrestler. They take genres I usually loathe (feel good flicks, sports movies) and do a great job with them. And there's somethng to be said for that. My guilty pleasure pick for '08 though was Cloverfield. I wish more horror movies were like that.....

Mark down June 4th on your calendar. TV On The Radio. That will be a good two weeks for me because in case you haven't heard, this band I like is playing May 23rd...

Speaking of live music, Coldplay's awesomeness kind of makes me want to make the trek down to TVFKAGW (The Venue Formerly Known As Great Woods) for the first time in som ten years.....

Somervillians and Cambridgians. Please. I'm begging you. Get off your fucking bikes. It's snowing and 7 degrees out. I'll buy you The Charlie Card...

Okay, so KG is out three weeks. It could be worse. When the injury first happened, I thought it was the dreaded ruptured achilles (I have a zen like ability to guess
when a player has the ruptured achilles. At first I thought it was because I had the closest thing to that, but then I realized tha I could tell it was a ruptured achilles by the fact that Player X was writhing around on the ground holding his achilles), but it appears to be a less than major knee issue. Keep in mind, he missed nine games last year, which is about three weeks and I think we know how things played out for last years Celtics. My boys P Squared and Ray Ray will step it up though, don't you worry. I say they go 8-3 without him.....

The antithesis of these Celtics might be your 2009 Boston Red Sox. Seriously, is there a more boring team in sport? Their infield on most nights will be Varitek, Youk, Pedroia, Lowrie, and Lowell. Or, The All Gerard Hate Them Because They Are So Goddman White And Boring Team. It's going to be tough to watch and root for them every night.....

Flight Of The Conchords continues to dominate television. It is so funny ("that's quite an accent you got there Kevina") and so original that it is getting to the point where I might not be able to be friends with you if you don't like the show. And even better, it helped me to understand Donny Marshall's "kiwi" reference he made in regards to a New Zealand born hoop player the other day. See, I don't have to travel the world to be cultured. All I have to do is watch trendy HBO TV shows that poseurs like me can blog about.....

So, I was thinking of making this a separate post and I may yet do that, but it will bring about considerable ire when I do so and I don't know if I'm in the mood to defend myself, but I've got some problems with Facebook. Firstly, I'm not on it because I don't need the drama, but I must admit being somewhat fascinated by it. However, here's my major beef with it: People lie about why they like it. They say it allows them to "keep in touch with people." C'Mon folks. Are you REALLY going to lie to yorselves like that? Here's why people have a Facebook: To look into the lives of "old" friends and to give people the opportunity to talk about themselves (no one cares that you're tired today!). The first part is self explanatoy, but what I mean by the second part is that Facebook gives us all the chance to participate in our favorite collective past time: One upping each other. We can post pictures of ourselves in the south of France, discuss our awesome jobs, display our ecclectic tastes in music or movies, or list our numerous degrees. And that's fine. Everyone likes to talk about themselves. But I would prefer it if people stopped calling it a "social networking" site. It is a place to talk about yourself, end of conversation. I mean, who would ever create a page on the internet about themselves, their thoughts, and their opinions?!? So arrogant.....

So I'm driving down the highway the other day and I pass a Spag's truck!!! What the fuck?!? That store still exists?!? I remember their god awful commercials from like 25 years ago. They are still in business? Where are they located? And what the hell do they even sell? And why didn't Bear Stearns steal their business plan?!? Worst economy in four score and fucking Spag's is still in existence. Unbelievable.....

While on the subject of advanced degrees, head over to Bukowski's some Tuesday night around 11. That is the night the Harvard Business School guys go in for post class drinks (the waitress informed me of such). Stumbled in there after a movie the other night and thought I was in the Bizarro Star Wars Cantina. Instead of everyone being from a different planet, it looked like they were all from the same parents. 6'3", good lucking, fit, well dressed, and surpremely obnoxious (complete with a guy who WAS the clone of the Jewish dude in Bolier Room kicking in the headlight of a random car). I didn't know whether to kill them or kill myself. I probably would have went with killing myself though because after they all got done beating me up, they probably would have beat me at Jeopardy! and Scrabble!. But hey, at least I can beat them at... NHL 95 maybe.....?

So I'm trying a new stategy in Fantasy basbeall this year since I haven't won since 1997 (That's a net loss of about $4800) and that strategy is to not read a single stupid fantasy magazine or web site. I can't take the guys they "hype" and the sleepers they tell me to pick who then spend the year sleeping statistically. Yet another reason why I need Dr. Emmet Brown and his DeLorean time machine: So I can hit the pedal to 88 and go back to about 1994 and write a fantasy magazine where I make up the stats of a guy. I can say he is going to do the next year without having any scientific proof of those predictions whatsoever and it'll sell tons of copies....

Got into a fun discussion with my bro and some of his friends the other night about scary movies and where we come down on them. It appears you are either scared by the ghost concept or the monster concept. The insane killer briefly entered the conversation and they can be scary particularly when it is a film like The Strangers, but for too many of these insane killer movies, the killer is an indestructible man who walks faster than Usain Bolt runs. So we leveled it down to ghost and monster movies and the type that scares you is the one that you find more plausible. So, with that in mind, what is more plausible, cave dwelling creatures or a little girls who walks out of your TV? C'mon now people... It's cave dwelling monsters in a landslide. That's why The Descent is the best horror move ever....

I'll see the G.I. Joe movie. I hope it is as good as some of the cartoon episodes though.....

The four songs that NEED to be on rock band are "Blank Slate" by You Know Who, The Killer's version of "Shadowplay", "7/4 (Shoreline)" by Broken Social Scene, and Ion Square" by Bloc Party. And here's why: Each song has a ridiculous mini jam that would be so fun to rock out to. They are awesome little jams that are not overly long, like a Slash guitar solo. Don't believe me? Go to the 5:10 mark of "Ion Square," the 3:11 mark of 7/4, the 2:59 mark of "Shadowplay," and the 1:51 mark of "Blank Slate." You'll feel like a air guitar god rocking out to these in your car or bedroom.....

I try to keep this apolitical, but here's why I am a democrat: Because republicans are awful people. It is a fct that we have the worst economic crisis in 80 years and republicans are UNANIMOUSLY voting against a stimulus package because it was created by the rock star democratic president they despise. On the other hand, democrats always voted for the War In Iraq and funding for troops... Because it was the right thing to do. No one understands partisan poitics better than me and I rooted against the last administration with a Michael Moore fervor at some points, but the stubbornness on display right now is disgraceful. Let that nonsense stay with the Michael Moore's of the world. I thought REAL politicans were above that stuff (as dems were during the Iraq War votes), but leave it to the worthless republicans to be their usual worthless selves.....

Bar Rafaeli, congratulations. You've cracked my top five. And what has been really fun about this is that some girls have been hating on her. My sister said she "might be the hottest girl at Whiskey Park." Sure, and girls love other girls, just as I've always said.....

The rest of the Top 5? It's always changing and it probably needs to be like a top 150, but Megan Fox is obviously there. Miranda Kerr would be too. Brooke Burke might make it there for nostalgia purposes. Then it's probably Rachel Bilson because I think she'd like me if she met me. I have nothing to base this on, other than my insanity.....

A dark horse candidate has ALWAYS been Kelly Monaco. Loved her since she showed up on DWTS.....

Okay, here are my predictions... Best Pic: Slumdog; Best Actor: Penn; Best Actress: Winslet; Best Supporting Actress: Penlope Cruz; Best Supporting Actor: Heath (bold prediction there); Best Director: Danny Boyle. And I like to think I know something about movies andI probably THINK I know more than I actually DO, but if Slumdog DOESN'T win for Best Editing, then I know absolutely nothing about film.....

Finally, big congrats to my friends Waidehi and Steve on the birth of their beautiful daughter, Leela. Also, congrats to my boy Brennan on his engagement to Andrea. They are two couples that I respect and I truly believe have found their partner's for life. One of these days, I will call them all and congratulate them verbally. That will probably be the same day that I turn into a good kid.....

And if you have absolutey nothing to do (and I mean nothing... If Hoosiers or Pale Rider is on and you just opened a bottle of wine, that's a way, WAY btter option) next Saturday, February 28th at 5:30 and you feel like taking a drive to Ipswich High School, there is this one act play being performed as part of a competition. The play, titled PS was co-written by my good friend Dave McLoughlin and some middle aged guy who writes a blog named after a quote from a dated Vince Vaughn flick. Don't expect Good Will Hunting people. In fact, if this thing is even thismuch better than Xanadu, I'll be immensely pleased. You know what? I should probably get on Facebook and tell eveyone about this, shouldn't I?