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December 31, 2006
Happy New Year
It’s New Year's Day... just like the day before. Same old skies of grey, same empty bottles on the floor.
Another year's gone by, and I was thinking once again... How can I take this losing hand and somehow win?
Just give me one good year... To get my feet back on the ground.
I’ve been chasing grace, but grace ain’t so easily found
One bad hand can devil a man, chase him and carry him down. I’ve got to get out of here, just give me one good year. -- Slaid Cleaves, "One Good Year"
I've always loved that song. And while I've gotten the good year requested, my wish for all of you is that you get One Good Year in 2007. I'll be back on line tomorrow... be safe tonight, please stay off the roads if you've been drinking, and have a wonderful New Year's Eve celebration, whatever you do. May you have a happy and prosperous new year.
A Pasty White Guy's 20 Favorite Rap Songs Ever: #6
6. "C.R.E.A.M." - Wu-Tang Clan Cash Rules Everything Around Me. Beyond the fact that there's a good flow to this rap and the melody behind it is unique, I love this song for nostaligia reasons... one of my crew in grad school had the "Enter The Wu-Tang Clan (36 Chambers)" CD... and there were waaaaay too many school nights and/or weekend nights of debauchery and self-destructive behavior that took place with that CD as the soundtrack. Of all the songs on that CD, "C.R.E.A.M." was always my favorite. I hear this song, and I'm back on Bay State Road, a decade younger in age and two decades younger in maturity, spending my scholarship money at Kenmore Liquors (which is now closed... one of the saddest pieces of gentrification in my personal experience, ever), and generally having the best time of my life to that point. So... this one, besides being a great song in its own right, makes my list for good memories reasons as well.
Posted by Christopher at 10:56 AM | Comments (0)December 30, 2006
A Pasty White Guy's 20 Favorite Rap Songs Ever: #7
7. "Jesus Walks" - Kanye West Okay, so Kanye's kind of an egotistical buffoon, and self-aggrandizes in interviews to levels that rival Muhammad Ali. (Thing is, Ali could back it up.) Oh, and Kanye? It's not that W doesn't like black people... he doesn't like poor people, regardless of color.
But all my personal distaste for his persona aside, there's no denying that West is a talented and thoughtful man. And he definitely was in prime form on his breakout hit, "Jesus Walks." I love the incorporation of the military marching cadence (okay, in his video it's a chain gang cadence). And West's positive message here was quite the contrast with a lot of the other rap and hip hop that are out right now... and the best way to stand out is to be something different. And contrary to perhaps popular belief, I'm not anti-all things religious... just anti-all attempts to impose/inflict/force one person or group's faith on me.
And frankly, I think West had a point in his lyric: "They think you can rap about anything except for Jesus... that means guns, sex, lies and videotape -- but if I talk about God, my record won't get played, huh?" The entertainment industry -- helped along by all-too-willing artists -- seem to love to use hip-hop culture and rap as a way of reinforcing negative stereotypes... so violent lyrics or those demeaning women or hating on gay people get pushed forward, and rappers who've been shot up in gang wars or drug deals get pushed to the top of the hype machine. True, there's far too many artists willing to go along with it and so the industry cannot shoulder singular blame for it... but it's still a problem. And West's lyric here was a challenge to that.
Posted by Christopher at 10:17 AM | Comments (0)December 29, 2006
American Justice: A Tale Of Two Cities
In Baghdad, one criminal receives "American" justice, executed tonight as George W. Bush gets his final raspberry toward an old enemy of Washington's.
"Saddam Hussein's trial is a milestone in the Iraqi people's efforts to replace the rule of a tyrant with the rule of law... Today, the victims of this regime have received a measure of the justice which many thought would never come." -- George W. Bush
In Washington DC, another criminal receives American "justice," receiving effusive praise from George W. Bush despite having, through treasonous incompetence, decimated Baghdad.
"I'm pleased to join you as we pay tribute to one of America's most skilled, energetic and dedicated public servants, the Secretary of Defense, Donald Rumsfeld... Over the past six years, I have come to appreciate Don Rumsfeld's professionalism, his dedication, his strategic vision..." -- George W. Bush
Seems to me like one country prosecutes its war criminals... and another rewards its own.
Posted by Christopher at 10:19 PM | Comments (0)December 28, 2006
A Pasty White Guy's 20 Favorite Rap Songs Ever: #9 and #8
9. "Sabotage" - The Beastie Boys Most. Fun. Video. Ever. "Nathan Wind as Cochise"... "Vic Colfari as Bobby, 'The Rookie'"... "Alasandro Alegre as The Chief"... this homage to 70s cop show openings is the most enjoyable video ever made, I think. Maybe not the "best" in the technical sense, but certainly the most fun. In my old office in DC, occasional commenter "MML" and I used to spoof on this video and the goony actor names all the time. Still cracks me up to watch it. (By the way... why the hell would someone as allegedly distinguished as "Sir Stewart Wallace" -- having received a knighthood -- play "himself" as a theif who's chased by the police and tackled into a pool? Was Sir Stewart knighted for having been an international jewel theif or something?) My favorite homage moment in the video? At 2:20, when the camera is hard-focused on one of the boys' worried faces, with something blurry in the soft-focused foreground... then the focus shifts and the object in the foreground is revealed to be a time bomb. Spot-on usage of early 70s TV shot technique.
But I like the song even without the video. I loooooove the guitar riff that kicks off the song... as Dave Chapelle hilariously pointed out, we white folks do love us some electric guitar -- and the riff in "Sabotage" kicks butt. None of the Boys have a great flow, but they can at least keep up... Chuck D has called the Beastie Boys "the Jackie Robinson of rap"... I don't know if I'd go that far, but when the other white rappers out there were Debbie Harry and Rob Van Winkle as Vanilla Ice, the Beastie Boys at least showed that rap could be color independent... and I love that they successfully fused kick-ass guitar riffs with rap sensibility. Mostly, however, I just love this song because someday in my copious spare time I want to shoot a spoof of 70s cop shows like this one, just for fun.
8. "Mosh" - Eminem I'm painfully aware, as I compiled this list, that way too high a percentage -- 25%! -- of the rap songs on my list are by white acts... can't really be accused of being a true rap fan if a quarter of the songs I like best are white, I guess. But the song at #8 is the highest ranked song by a white act, so we'll at least put an end to that part.
"Mosh" was released in fall 2004, a few weeks before the election. I loved it at the time as an angry middle finger to George W. Bush. I love it even more two years later, because we can all say "I freakin' told you so!" to all the people who voted for Bush that year. This is just a pure spleen venting of rage at the worst president in American history, and frustration with the dictatorial tendency of the Bushies and conservatives to paint anyone who disagrees with them as unpatriotic. "No more psychological warfare to trick us to thinkin' we ain't loyal if we don't serve our own country by patronizing their hero. Look in his eyes, it's all lies; the Stars and Stripes has been swiped." Hells yes! And while the whole video appears to be a massing of a revolution, at the end the crowd is revealed to be massing to vote. I like that message. The beat behind the rap is foreboding and as angry as the lyrics. Whatever I thought of Eminem before this song, I liked him a lot more after this song and video.
Posted by Christopher at 08:07 PM | Comments (0)Baseball Hall of Fame 2007: The Mudge Votes
With buzz on the sports Web sites turning to the upcoming Baseball Hall of Fame vote, I thought I'd share my choices this year.
First of all, here are the players who are on the ballot in 2007: Harold Baines, Albert Belle, Dante Bichette, Bert Blyleven, Bobby Bonilla, Scott Brosius, Jay Buhner, Ken Caminiti, Jose Canseco, Dave Concepcion, Eric Davis, Andre Dawson, Tony Fernandez, Steve Garvey, Rich Gossage, Tony Gwynn, Orel Hershiser, Tommy John, Wally Joyner, Don Mattingly, Mark McGwire, Jack Morris, Dale Murphy, Paul O'Neill, Dave Parker, Jim Rice, Cal Ripken, Jr., Bret Saberhagen, Lee Smith, Alan Trammell, Devon White, Bobby Witt.
I'll break these guys down into four categories: 1) Gets My Vote No Questions Asked; 2) No Chance In Hell; 3) Can Make a Case For and I'm On The Fence; 4) I See The Argument But He Doesn't Get My Vote.
Let's start with category #2 - the guys with no chance in hell of getting my vote. Immediately eliminated are Bichette, Bonilla (who could make the all asshat Hall of Fame!), Brosius, Buhner, Caminiti, Canseco (in my mind, every single accomplishment of his is tainted), Davis, Fernandez, Joyner, White, Witt. Okay... of the original 32 nominees, we've just eliminated 11 - about a third of the list who are on there as a courtesy and little more.
Next... category #4 - the guys who will get some votes, enough to keep them on the ballot for years... and while I see why they'll get support, I won't vote for them. In this category, I put:
-- Harold Baines (decent DH, decent career numbers... but never dominant)
-- Dave Concepcion (overshadowed by the superstars on the Big Red Machine, doesn't get enough credit... but not quite HoF)
-- Steve Garvey (there was a stretch of about four years where he was the best 1B in the NL... but tailed off fast)
-- Orel Hershiser (put the '88 Dodgers in the playoffs along with Kirk Gibson, but only had that one dominant year)
-- Don Mattingly (an injury-shortened career and a lack of power from a power position hurt him, despite all-time great defense)
-- Dale Murphy (two MVPs is impressive, but he played during a weak era for the NL and was only great for about 3 years)
-- Paul O'Neill (makes the all-Whiner HoF for all those moronic faces he used to make when a call didn't go his way... but even I'll concede he was clubhouse glue for the late 90s dynasty. Unfortunately, they don't put guys in the Hall for being clubhouse leaders.)
-- Dave Parker (was feared as anyone for a couple of years, and was an all-around player... but I think the whole coke trial thing just leaves a bad taste in my mouth over him)
-- Bret Saberhagen (all I can say is, the man did win two Cy Youngs... how many other two-time Cy winners are not in the Hall? and he was a WS MVP... but just doesn't have the career numbers to justify it)
-- Lee Smith (longevity man... for all those saves, he only led the league twice... and to my mind, was never feared like the great ones.)
So that elminates 10 more guys. Now we're down to just 11 candidates. Of those, for me there are four who absolutely get my vote, and seven who I see the case for and just am on the fence about, could be convinced either way. The four locks:
-- Rich Gossage The absolutely most dominant player at his position in his era; perhaps most feared reliever ever. That he's not in already is a total joke.
-- Tony Gwynn Best pure hitter since Ted Williams. Highest career BA of the past 40 years.
-- Jim Rice From 1977 through about 1984, he was the most feared and dominant power hitter in the AL; compared to his contemporaries, his numbers stand out -- and lack the taint of steroids.
-- Cal Ripken Jr. Sure, he was selfish and put the Streak above the needs of the Orioles (not to mention the whole separate hotels thing...) But selfish jerk or not, the man redefined the shortstop position forever, and the Streak was as impressive as it may have been selfish.
Which leaves seven guys who I could see myself voting for, and coul d just as easily see myself not voting for. Here's the debate to my mind, and my "verdict" for this year.
-- Albert Belle For a while there, Belle was as dominant a hitter as the AL had. Nine straight years of 100+ RBIs is amazing. He had ten seasons as a full time player, and hit 373 HRs in those ten years, with more than 35 in all but three of those. So his numbers say yes. But he was the biggest asshat in sports for that whole time -- a combined Barry Bonds/Terrell Owens of his day. And he was an unhinged psycho who only this past year got busted for using a GPS device to stalk his girlfriend. And I just have a bias against voting sociopaths into a place of honor. So I don't care what his numbers say, he doesn't get my vote. Verdict: Out
-- Bert Blyleven Never finished first or second for a Cy. Only made two all-star teams. So by my usual criteria -- how was the player in comparison to his peers, and was there a stretch of several years where he was among the 3 to 5 best in the game at his position? -- Blyleven fails the test. But 287 wins while playing for crappy teams is hard to sniff at. So are 3,701 strikeouts, the 5th most ever. As is his legendarily best curveball of his generation. But you know what cinches it for me? I quote you ESPN's Tim Kurkjian: Twenty-one pitchers in history have thrown 4,500 innings and had an ERA a half a run better than the league average. Seventeen of the 21 are in the Hall of Fame. Three others -- Roger Clemens, Greg Maddux and Glavine -- are going to the Hall. Then there's Blyleven. He should be in. Mudge sez: I agree. This year, at least. Verdict: In.
-- Andre Dawson He's got great numbers -- 438 HR, 2,774 hits, 314 SB, 8 Gold Gloves -- but the two things with Hawk are that a) he had lousy plate discipline and had a paltry .323 career OBP, which is measley; and he had only 1,591 RBI... while that is a lot, it's not a lot for a guy who played 21 years and had 2,774 hits. In those 21 years, he only had more than 100 RBI four times, and only finished in the top two for MVP twice. You know what that tells me? He was a rarely dominant compiler. Verdict: Out
-- Tommy John 288 wins. 3.34 career ERA with 162 games. Impressive. But that ERA is less impressive when you remember that he played during a pitcher's era. And while he was certainly very, very good... was he ever elite? Among the best handful in the game at his position? In 22 years, he made 4 all star teams; never finished in the top ten in strikeouts; only finished in the top 3 in wins three times; only finished in the top two for the Cy twice. Tommy John is a classic example, to me, of a very good player who was never quite elite, and thus doesn't get my vote. Verdict: Out
-- Mark McGwire There's a big part of me that wants to vote for McGwire. I really do. He most likely was 'roided up during the '98 home run chase and beyond... but that was baseball's Steroid Era and many players cheated -- including many of the pitchers McGwire was facing. And while those HR records should be wiped out IMHO if McGwire was 'roiding, and that 583 isn't as impressive when steroids are taken into account, the point still remains: in an era where a sizable percentage, if not a majority, of the league was on steroids, McGwire stood out from his peers. Everyone was taking them, but not everyone hit 583 home runs. Plus, the man did conduct himself with grace during the pressure of 1998. However, he conducted himself with shame during the 2003 Congressional hearings. And the bottom line is, if I vote for McGwire under the "everyone else was doing it, and he still stood out," theory... then to be consistent I have to also vote for Barry Bonds when his turn is up. And I will never, ever, EVER vote for that son of a bitch to get into anything but a federal prison for perjury. So for consistency's sake and to avoid a label of hypocrite in a few years when Bonds is on the ballot, I can't vote for McGwire. This year, anyway. Verdict: Out.
-- Jack Morris Detractors like to point out that Morris' 3.90 career ERA would be the highest in the Hall, and that Morris had "only" 254 wins in his career, far short of the once-magic number of 300. But guess what? The game changed during the 80s and 90s, and sub-4.00 ERAs usually get you on the all-star team now... and once Tom Glavine and Randy Johnson hit 300 wins (they're both about 20 short), we will never see another 300 win pitcher again, because the game's changed (pitchers were once expected to throw a complete game every time out, for example, as well). 250 wins in the post-1980 era seems pretty darn elite to me. True, Morris never won a Cy Young award, and only 5 times in his 18 seasons was he an all-star. But he won more games in the 1980s (162) than any other pitcher... and while some of that can be ascribed to the Tigers having a good team for most of that decade, you can also argue that they were that good in part due to Morris' presence. When judging HoF candidates, one of my first criteria is how the player stacked up against his contemporaries... and Morris won more in his decade than anyone else. He also has four World Series rings, at least one of which was earned with a performance for the ages. He's borderline, but I have to say I'm convinced this year. Verdict: In.
-- Alan Trammell You know, I have never voted for Trammell before. I looked at his career numbers and found them lacking. But I forgot my own rule about HoF votes: compare the player to his contemporaries. Compared to A-Rod, Jeter, Tejada, Nomar, Michael Young, and several others, Trammell is less impressive. But compared to Dick Schofield, Alfredo Griffin, Houston Jimenez, Scott Fletcher, Tony Phillips, Spike Owen, Jose Oquendo, Ivan DeJesus, Dale Berra, Garry Templeton, Craig Reynolds -- you know, his contemporaries at shortstop during the 80s -- Trammell stands out. Ozzie Smith, Cal Ripken, and Robin Yount were the only 80s shortstops who were definitively better than Tramell... and all three of them are in the Hall. So by the compare vs. peers standard, Trammell could be in. The thing is, though... he just was never elite. He was very, very good... but never elite. Like Tommy John, Alan Trammell is an example of a fine player who was very, very good for a long time... but never great. Not a Hall of Famer. Verdict: Out.
So to sum up, my Hall of Fame vote, if I had one, would this year go to: Blyleven, Gossage, Gwynn, Morris, Rice, Ripken. Let the counter-arguments begin.
Posted by Christopher at 02:03 PM | Comments (0)December 27, 2006
A Pasty White Guy's 20 Favorite Rap Songs Ever: #11-#10
11. "The Humpty Dance" - Digital Underground I shouldn't like this song. In general, novelty songs suck. But the thing was, the Digital Underground was a seriously good group -- the whole goofy persona thing was a tribute to Parliament-Funkadelic. And for all the alter-ego oddness and novelty nature of this song, it has a funky bass line and is a stronger rap than people might give it credit for. Campy classic, IMHO.
10. "Insane In The Brain" - Cypress Hill One of the most catchy, get-in-your-head hooks in rap history... I could see where it might drive some absolutely bug-nuts, but for me if was just fun. Who you tryin' to get crazy with, esse? Don'tchu know I'm loco?
Posted by Christopher at 10:02 PM | Comments (0)2006: The Year In Review - Mudge Edition
Every now and then, you have one of those years where every facet of your life clicks on all cylinders. You know, those years that you look back on later and think, wow... professionally, personally, financially... vacations and home, and everything in between... in every aspect of your life, you were dealt an Ace-10 suited and then hit your Jack, Queen, and King for your straight flush on the flop.
They don't come around very often. I've only had three, I think. The first was 1992 -- and I was just way too young to appreciate it, because at that point I think I honestly believed that my whole life would be like that, and that everything I ever touched would turn to gold. Then 2003 started out great, but we all know how that turned out. (Stupid misguided Florida adventures!) And then there was 2006... which I honestly can say -- nay, have to say -- has been the best year of my life. And while I'm more realistic at 38 than I was at 24, I do have to confess to feeling slightly like Midas this year. Thankfully, this time I know that not every year is going to be like this, and so I've been able to truly appreciate the fortune that's turned up in my world in 2006.
Professionally, this was a dream year. Never could have seen it coming. Personally, same thing -- never saw it coming, but it was a wonderful, amazing year. Some highlights:
THINGS THAT KICKED ASS IN 2006:
Got profiled by a national newspaper syndicate and had my ugly mug splashed on newspapers from Phoenix to Delaware and three dozen places in between. Got to speak at about two dozen conferences around the world, even keynoting about half a dozen times. Stayed in by far the two nicest hotels I have ever stayed in -- one in San Francisco, the other in Rome. Got flown in a helicopter to a major company's headquarters to do a briefing, and didn't lapse into terrorized unconsciousness. Flew cross-country on the company jet... twice. Got to spend a week in Rome. Got to London three times. Spent a month on an assignment for work in Paris, Madrid, and London. Did interviews with the BBC, Wall Street Journal, and CNN.
Moved out of the crappy and cramped studio apartment in a run down building for a high-end townhouse rental that I absolutely love. Watched my kid brother get the job he's always dreamed of. Learned p0ker from friends and by the end of the year got pretty good at it if I do say so myself. Got several bonuses at work. Spoke at a conference in Santa Fe and got to stay in another of my favorite hotels anywhere. Watched 4th of July fireworks from the Cape May Ferry with my family, the Doc, Mrs. Doc, and their whole family.
Got to San Francisco five times, and on the last one got to attend the wedding of a very dear friend to a guy who's perfect for her. Started spending more time with a good friend I'd known for six years, and woke up one day to figure out that neither she nor I thought of each other as just friends anymore... and then -- despite my having sworn on the graves of my ancestors and the soul of Red Sox Nation that I would never be dumb enough to let it happen again (stupid misguided Florida adventures!), and much to our mutual shock and surprise -- this long-time friend wound up becoming "TG" and ended up figuring in considerations of my future. Ended the year with opportunities that I never thought I'd have.
THINGS THAT SUCKED IN 2006:
...
Um... my knees are shot? The Red Sox finished in 3rd?
At the end of 2005, I was on a roll -- and honestly didn't think I could top it. Life just isn't that good to people in general, to give them two great years in a row. As it turns out, not only was 2006 a great year, it was an astounding, outstanding, amazing year that I'm grateful as anything for. Even if 2007 doesn't quite live up to this one, it's okay... the high from the amazing things that happened in 2006 ought to keep me content through at least the end of the decade.
So to all my friends and readers, those of you who helped make 2006 the best year of my life, I simply say thank you. And if you're really nice to me, I'll let you rub my belly for good luck like I were some sort of sarcastic Buddha. I have both the appropriately sized belly for it and the good fortune to spare.
Here's to 2007. May you all find happiness and peace in the New Year.
Posted by Christopher at 08:20 PM | Comments (0)December 26, 2006
Goodbye, President Ford
Breaking news tonight... President Gerald Ford has died at the age of 93.
Mr. Ford was a good and decent man whose laid back, informal character and personality helped the nation heal from the bitter open wounds of Watergate. His dedication to his country overrode his political goals -- and while I would have been angry about the Nixon pardon if I had been old enough in 1974 to understand what it was, I must admit that in hindsight it was the right thing to do; he not only did what he thought was right, but did what he thought was right for the country despite the impact that decision had on his personal fortune as president. I wish more of our leaders today had that kind of courage.
Goodbye, President Ford. Your decency and commitment to our country will be missed, sir.
UPDATE: In the AP story recalling Ford's decision to pardon Nixon, there's an amazing quote that I wanted to highlight.
On the other hand, granting a pardon could touch off an uproar that would sink Ford’ s election hopes.
“I’m aware of that,” Ford recalled snapping at a cautious aide. “It could easily cost me the next election if I run again. But damn it, I don’t need the polls to tell me whether I’m right or wrong.”
God knows that we could use more of that kind of courage in our so-called leaders of today.
Posted by Christopher at 11:55 PM | Comments (0)2006: The Year In Review - Society Edition
I guess it's that time of year in which we all look back on the year that was and proclaim the best and worst of. (Well, maybe you don't, but I do... and since this is my blog, you're gonna have to humor my opinions on it.) There's lots of things to proclaim good and bad over the past twelve months; here's one man's take.
THINGS THAT KICKED ASS IN 2006:
Stephen Colbert. Steve Carell. Jon Stewart. Miss July, Sara Jean Underwood. The Arctic Monkeys. The Raconteurs. The Detroit Tigers’ run to the World Series. The Saints return to New Orleans – and their surprising playoff run. Bush’s approval rating standing at only 31% -- only his father scored lower since Nixon. The Yankees ignominious exit from the playoffs despite having the biggest payroll in baseball by nearly $75 million. Bode “Spicoli” Miller getting his just rewards for being a stoner X-game asshat. Lindsey Jacobellis getting what she deserved after embodying X-game mentality by trying to show off instead of trying to win. Ted Haggard being outed as both a gay man and a total hypocrite. Reality catching up to the neoconservative vision in Iraq. Rummy resigning in disgrace. Tom DeLay being indicted and removed in disgrace. Dick Cheney being rejected by an American public sick of a mean, ugly-spirited man.
THINGS THAT SUCKED IN 2006:
Global warming continues at an alarming and frightening pace, but George W. Bush and his oil industry marionette masters still say that it’s not real. James Brown died. So did Coretta Scott King. So did Floyd Patterson, one of the nicest men ever to lace up boxing gloves. The Red Sox spent more money than anyone except the Yankees and finished third in the AL East. Spain got knocked out of the World Cup early yet again this year. Roy Williams of the Detroit Lions. The entire Cincinnati Bengals organization for hiring and rewarding thugz and punkz. Isaiah Thomas. Terrell Owens. And his asshat publicist who equated money and mental health. Britney Spears became so trashy that even I don’t think she’s hot anymore. The trade and budget deficits got worse and the dollar is weaker than ever before. Tower Records went under. Michael Richards and Mel Gibson proved that they are complete jackasses. Rupert Murdoch and O.J. Simpson proved they have absolutely no shame. Pluto got demoted. Comment spammers continue to pollute blogs (and if I ever find one of them in person, I will kill them). That psycho asshat who falsely confessed to the JonBenet murder. Hugo Chavez. Kim Jong-Il. And did I mention global warming?
Posted by Christopher at 11:32 PM | Comments (0)Merry Christmas From George W. Bush
As of today, 2,978 Americans have died in George W. Bush's war in Iraq.
Which means that George W. Bush is now responsible for more American deaths than Osama bin Laden.
Merry Christmas from the Bush administration.
Posted by Christopher at 08:31 PM | Comments (0)A Pasty White Guy's 20 Favorite Rap Songs Ever: #13-12
13. "Fight The Power" - Public Enemy I've said before and I'll maintain: I think Spike Lee is a racist, and is as bigoted as David Duke. But the man can make films; he's unquestionably talented. Moreover, I think Chuck D is a powerful and important voice; he was in 1989 when he wrote "Fight The Power" for Lee's opus "Do The Right Thing," and he is now. This song is a screaming alarm, a powerful venting, a social history lesson... so many things in one. And it does remind me of that movie, which I like despite it coming from Lee. Take the defiant, angry tone and lyrics, add it to a film with a social message, and finish it off with a video like this one that captures the frustration of a community and the power of Public Enemy to inspire that community, and you know why they scared the spit out of authority, out of conservatives both financial and social, and generally anyone who might be considered a "have" or be perceived as The Man.
12. "The Way I Am" - Eminem This one makes it in here on the strength of one line alone... while the line is not the only reason I like the song, it captures my feeling toward social reactionaries. You know the ones... the ones clamoring loudest about "families" and how all things liberal are threats to "the family"... the ones who proclaim so self-righteously about the superiority of their parenting and philosophies... yet who cry and whine the loudest about the influence of video, games, music, or other cultural influences... the ones who use societal influences as a crutch to abrogate themselves from actual parenting responsibility.
The ones who say that their kid shot themselves because of backwards messages in an Ozzy or Judas Priest song... but who will claim no responsibility for not having seen symptoms of depression in their kids. The ones who'll say that when little Johnny or little Mary are having sex, it's because of what they see on MTV and not because they made sex the forbidden fruit of adolescence, or not because they weren't making sure that little Johnny and Mary always have the bedroom door open or have no opportunity to get themselves into trouble. The ones who say that their kid got into drugs because of that devil music, but who won't own up to the responsibility to check their kids' rooms, to have open and honest discussions about drugs, to enforce curfews and actually discipline their child... No, when the kids go astray, it couldn't be the parents' doing, could it? Because that would involve having had to actual be a parent -- and it's so much easier to blame societal influences, isn't it?
So for the line: "When a dude's getting bullied, and shoots up his school ... and they blame it on Marilyn [Manson] and the heroin... WHERE WERE THE PARENTS AT???" this song automatically makes my list for its defiant middle finger at the tsk tskers. I also like the use of bells to set a tone, and the piano melody behind the rap too. And the rest of the lyrics -- four minutes of throwing his hands up and saying that since there are those who attack him no matter what he does or stands for, he'll just say whatever, I am whatever you want to say I am; you want to make me the devil, I'll be your devil -- are pretty angry and powerful too.
Posted by Christopher at 03:12 PM | Comments (0)December 24, 2006
Merry Christmas
I toyed with calling this entry "happy holidays," but then thought: "You know what? At least nominally, you're a Christian, and it's Christmas that you're observing. People of other faiths are both wise enough and good-hearted enough to recognize that it's the sentiment and not the specific observance that you're trying to convey. Stop being so PC!"
So to all of you, whichever holiday you observe, I wish you a happy and safe one. I hope you will either see family or have seen them already (or can avoid them, if you're not so fond of your family). I'll be off for the next two days doing the whole Christmas thing with TG & her family (my first Italian Christmas... TG says I should be very afraid right now!)... but I'll be back either Monday night or Tuesday morning.
Peace to you all.
Posted by Christopher at 08:26 AM | Comments (0)December 23, 2006
Survey: Are There Heroes Worth Having Left?
In general, I don't have heroes anymore.
This is partly just out of personal belief that John Lennon had it right when he said "I don't believe in Beatles, I just believe in me." Putting your faith or adulation in anyone other than yourself is, to me, a capitulation to fate -- a willingness to cede to others the control of qualities you want in yourself. (I'm referring of course to making heroes of those one doesn't know; admiring someone you do know and who you can observe displaying those qualities on a regular basis is a different and natural thing. And it goes without saying that the courage and bravery dsiplayed on a daily basis by firefighters and police officers is eminently worthy of respect and admiration, but I am talking about a different kind of hero worship right now.) We all have a need to believe noble things about humanity... I just think it's better to strive for that nobility one's self than to project it on to others.
This is also partly because I've learned as I've gotten older that so many of my earlier heroes were merely flawed human beings themselves. John F. Kennedy was a serial philanderer and addict; Kirby Puckett cheated on and may have beaten up his wife; the heroes of the 1998 home run chase were likely 'roided up beyond recognition. I've known politicians personally, met captains of industry... and invariably they're all just like me -- maybe smarter, maybe stronger, but still just human beings with strengths and flaws just like me. And if I'm going to admire and project heroic qualities upon any flawed human being... why not just work harder to embody those qualities myself?
Over Thanksgiving, I saw "Bobby," and have been mulling the concept of heroes ever since. Bobby Kennedy was my last hero, the last larger-than-life one I was willing to let go of as someone to look up to or want to emulate. I know the flaws (he ordered the assassination attempts on Castro, he was unscrupulous as all hell in protecting and promoting his brother... but no, I don't believe the Marilyn Monroe rumors... I think only JFK had the affair with her), but I also see what he believed in for America -- a more equitable, fairer society that takes seriously its responsibility to care for its lesser members and sees doing so as one of the obligations of wealth -- and what he represented to the people who believed so deeply in him... and I want to be more like that person.
That may not have been who Robert Francis Kennedy was, but it was who "Bobby" was to the people he sought to represent. I cannot imagine that any politician since Bobby -- white or black -- could have ridden standing in a convertible through the poorest barrios and ghettos of our nation's cities, and had people rushing the car and tearing at him, wanting simply to touch him or to get a small piece of his clothes or aura... not because he could play ball or could sing well, but because of the appeal and nobility of his ideas. It isn't so much who Bobby was but the hope he represented to his followers that made him my last hero. In the end, however, my aforementioned belief that it is better to try to be your own hero has won out, and I stopped idolizing Bobby Kennedy; stopped, that is, until I saw the movie.
And while the script is merely a fictionalized idealization of Kennedy and his followers, I still found myself crying at the end along with the characters. Not crying for Bobby Kennedy, necessarily, but rather for what I think was lost that day... the passionate hope that someone could lead the people and that we could change things. (The more popular politicians since then -- Reagan in particular -- have represented not change so much as a desire to roll back change, to turn the clock back to simpler times, in simpler terms -- i.e. more black and white with no gray in between -- and the protection of those who have rather than the empowerment of those who have not. And while Clinton was magnetic, even I as one of his fans have a hard time defining just what it is that he stood for.)
I've been thinking since then about whether there's anyone left in the public realm who's worthy of that kind of faith, that kind of passion, that kind of hope. Today's politicians leave me cold... maybe Barack Obama, who seems to have that kind of charisma, but I have questions about his experience. I saw that Bono was given an honorary knighthood in the British Empire this weekend... I think he honestly probably comes closest for me, if I were going to choose any contemporary public figure as a hero.
He could have lounged around as a supserstar emeritus of rock -- either becoming a sad self-parody a la Mick Jagger and Keith Richards or Paul McCartney, or fading cantakerously from the scene a la Bob Dylan or David Byrne -- or could have just sat around counting his money and making increasingly less relevant records. Instead, he chose activism. And not the Tim Robbins, Richard Gere, or Patricia Heaton style activism either, where public figures get an inch deep of information and then spend their time either preaching to their respective choirs or making unwelcome intrusions on inappropriate situations (i.e., when you're making an acceptance speech at the Oscars or Emmys). No one wants to hear from a celebrity who's signed on for the cause du jour armed only with the talking points provided to them by some interest group.
Bono has instead a) first armed himself with as much knowledge and understanding of the issues he's passionate about as any think tank policy wonk; and b) set about trying to effect real change, not by talking to the like-minded, but by going about trying to change the minds of those who have a different view. Name me another entertainment celebrity who could have gone into Jesse Helms' office to talk about AIDS funding and Third World debt relief and dsiplayed so much mastery as to not only earn Helms' respect, but actually change his mind? Bono has used his fame and wealth to try and make the world a better place... not for himself, and not even for his fans, but for the untold billions who have no other voice through which to be heard. And to me, that's as noble and as close to heroism as anything I see out there.
So there's my vote cast... if there are any heroes remaining worth having in the public sphere, Bono is my selection. I'm curious as to who others might tab as a hero still worthy of the label. Fire away, kids.. enquiring Mudges want to know.
Posted by Christopher at 10:05 AM | Comments (0)Welcome Back
An old friend of this blog and of the Mudge himself has resurfaced on her blog, and I wanted to point y'all her way.
You may recall my friend Sarah -- "A Distrubingly Cynical College Student" -- from her blog, "The Underground Devil." Or, you may recall her from the story of "how we met" -- namely, that she is the teenage daughter of a good friend of mine from work... and that more than two years ago now, she was inspired as a high school senior to begin blogging on her own after reading my blog and feeling that it was worthy of emulation. (Give her a break; she's young and has plenty of time to figure out that I'm a charlatan!) Seriously, that's about the highest praise I think a blogger can receive -- that someone else was moved to begin blogging after reading you -- and she still, even today, referred to me in her post as her "hero."
So I obviously have a fondness for this person who is an amazingly talented writer in her own right. I mean, seriously... she's 19 now and is miles ahead of where I was at 19, or where I suppose most of us were at 19. When I say that I want this young lady to have a career in writing somehow, it's not the usual supportive encouragement thing that we all start dispensing as soon as someone younger than us asks for advice. I mean, I think we'll all be the better for it if she is able to find a way to make a career from her gifts. Sarah and I have become friends on blog and on IM, and the deepening of that friendship has also led to a stronger friendship with her entire family. It's been my privilege to have dinner with their family, and her father and I talk more frequently than our jobs might otherwise let us because of her influence.
She's had her share of shit in the past few months. I don't use that word lightly; as regular readers here know, I usually temper my language here and put a p where the h goes, mostly out of an imagined conceit that my real-world name might accidentally someday get connected to my Mudge persona's blog, and a desire to keep a minor sense of decorum or propriety here just in case I get found out. But there's no other word to accurately describe what's been thrown in her path these past few months. (I'll let her tell you in her own words, from her post today.) I've known what's been going on, and have been occasionally chatting with her on IM through it... and every time I do, I've been pushing Sarah to start blogging again. This is partly because I believe that people who at their core are writers... well, they need to write, as self-therapy, as a coping mechanism, and just because it's what writers do. And partly it's because, selfishly, I just like her writing and miss it.
Today, she finally had enough of the badgering and hopped back on the blog, despite feeling that she has nothing much to say right now. (Gosh, there's a rash of that going around right now, isn't there??) I'm hoping she'll keep up with it; I'm hoping y'all will head over to wish her well and reward her bravery by providing her a renewed readership. And Sarah? Thanks for having the guts to start writing again right now. You inspire me too.
Posted by Christopher at 12:40 AM | Comments (0)December 22, 2006
A Pasty White Boy's Favorite 20 Rap Songs: #15-#14
15. "I Left My Wallet In El Segundo" - A Tribe Called Quest Man, this was a group that should have seen more mainstream success than they saw. I mean, the critics loved them, and they had a sizable influence... but there was never that major crossover hit that established A Tribe Called Quest on the pop charts, the way that Run DMC or Dre or Eminem or Biggie had. I liked Q-Tip's flow, and I thought he was great at being a storyteller... but it just never happened for them like it should have. I think part of it was just that ATCQ just came along at the wrong time... they were kind of like the last great purveyors of the "original" rap, before gangsta rap and hip-hop style chest-thumping took over the feel and air of rap. (Not that those are all bad... I've listed some gangsta on this list already and will list more.) But ATCQ were great at storytelling, and their stuff was just fun -- and despite detractors in some corners who called them "safe" or "sanitized," I thought there should have been more room for them than perhaps there was.
Anyway, "I Left My Wallet In El Segundo" is a tale about a road trip among friends, the plot point being that, upon reaching their destination -- a diner in California on the other side of the country -- Q-Tip gets distracted by a pretty waitress and loses his wallet. The song follows the trip out to California and back, and ends with Tip rounding up the gang to go back to California to claim his wallet. Fun song.
14. "Pop Goes The Weasel" - 3rd Bass I know I'm going to take more hell for this one than anything else on my list. There should be a rule that if a group has more than one white guy, they can't have a decent rap song. 3rd Bass, in my opinion, proved one of the only exceptions to the rule (the other being of course the Beastie Boys). They get style points because Sinister Prime Minister Pete Nice (the MC with the walking cane and cigar), after he retired, became a prominent baseball historian who owns a memorabilia store in Cooperstown. They also get points for sampling Peter Gabriel's "Sledgehammer," which I always loved. They get more points because this entire song is a four minute dis of Vanilla Ice. They get even more points because Henry Rollins plays Vanilla Ice in the video. Sure, MC Serch couldn't dance and looked like a foolish pasty white boy when he tried... but God help me, I love this song and the video too.
Posted by Christopher at 11:35 PM | Comments (0)December 21, 2006
Merry Christmas?
People are stupid. That's the only logical conclusion anyone can come to after reading about the saga of Washington state's ongoing battles over holiday displays.
Look, I'm as anti-church & state mixing as anyone you will ever meet; I think it's a bad idea and thought so even before the extremist right wing Christian Taliban took control of the Republican party and started trying to make fundamentalist Christianity the law of the land. Crossing religion and government is like crossing the streams in Ghostbusters -- it shouldn't be done, for fear of opening an interdimensional rift. It's my opinion that you can't have a fully functioning democracy devoted to protecting equal rights for all if there is governmental endorsement or embrace of a specific religion.
But as for Christmas trees being put on display in public places owned by a municipality or state, I have no problem with that. Hell, it's not like non-Christians can pretend it's not Christmastime or avoid references to it. And let's face it: Christmas, as observed in this country anyway, is more a secular and materialist holiday than a religious one. (Literally every one of my Jewish friends observes the gift-giving part of the holiday, as far as I am aware, for example.) So the whole pulling Christmas trees out of the airport thing seems to me to be silly, an overreaction to a deliberate provocation (kind of like the imams on the plane in Minneapolis, who went out of their way to stage a confrontation, only to be met with an overreaction by the airline and its passengers that played right into the provacateurs' hands). I don't see the Christmas tree as a religious symbol, I see it as a material one -- and I have no issue with them being on public property.
But if the city of Seattle or the state of Washington were going to react to the whole provoked controversy by putting a menorah up, then a little consistency would be nice. See, the menorah is a religious symbol, not a secular one. And while I have no problem at all with euqal recognition of other religions' holidays, it's not like the menorah is just a fancy blue and white banner reading "Happy Hanukah." The menorah is religious. Yet the state is going to argue that they can't put a Nativity scene up because it's explicitly religious and could constitute endorsement of a religion by the state? Well, what the heck is a menorah, boys and girls? It's a religious symbol as significant to those of the Jewish faith as a Nativity scene is to those of the Christian faith. If you're going to ban one as a religious symbol, ban them all. If you're going to allow one in the name of diversity, allow them all -- because allowing only the menorah but not the Nativity is exclusionary in the opposite direction of what we traditionally are concerned with over the December holidays.
I'd be happier if all religious symbols -- Nativity scenes, menorahs, Ten Commandments, crescents, what have you -- were not displayed on public/government property; I don't think that it's the governmental role to celebrate religious holidays or rites. But if you're going to put a menorah on public municipal or state property, you might as well throw a Nativity scene up there too. Just be consistent, Washington. Don't be hypocritical or have one set of rules for one religion and not another. It's not too much to ask.
Posted by Christopher at 11:26 PM | Comments (0)A Pasty White Boy's Favorite 20 Rap Songs: #18-#16
18. "Jump Around" - House of Pain Okay, the Boston connection meant I was inclined to like the song anyway. The whole Southie hooligan air of the band and the video make me oddly nostalgiac for my grad school years, even though I never hung out in Southie and didn't like the hooligan element of Boston when I was there. But - classic hook in this song, one that's been appropriated at sporting events and at stadiums across the country. This song still makes me tempted to get up and dance like the pasty white boy that I am... something I've only recently learned to control. I know, you thank me for it.
17. "Deep Cover" -- Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg Even though he's only represented twice on this countdown, I am a big Dr. Dre fan; of those original 37 tunes that I thought up, like 6 were from Dre. This is one of my absolute favorites. The menacing, bad-ass bassline, the gangsta lyrics... love this song. Love it. You remember that scene in "Office Space" when Michael Bolton is driving with the gangsta rap blasting until he gets to a stoplight, when he turns it down? Yeah, that was me back in the early 90s... cruising the mean streets of Minneapolis, mimicking Snoop Dogg and growling "cuz it's 1-8-7 on a undercover cop!" You know, because I was an O.G.. It's an amusing image even to me... my wannabe politician white butt in my Hill Rat suits, bopping my head to the beat and talking about my "nickel plated .22." I hate guns, and if I ran into an undercover cop, I'd probably cower and apologize. But ya know, I'm bad ass. And so is this song.
16. "I Ain't Goin' Out Like That" - Cypress Hill The irony of my suburban yuppie wine-drinking butt liking so much of hardscrabble, chest thumping, bad-ass rap is not lost on me. But I can only refer back to that scene in Office Space once, and I've just done that. So I'll just have to say that I love Cypress Hill's whole gimmick -- could one call them the Willie Nelsons of rap? -- and that this song is one that I used to have in my workout mixes back when I used to work out.
Posted by Christopher at 06:37 PM | Comments (0)December 19, 2006
Lists By Request: A Pasty White Boy's Top 20 Rap Songs
I had planned on my next list coming after the new year, and going with my 59 Best One Hit Wonders Ever. But then Corey wished me a Merry Christmas with a very fun list of his own, and an "I'll tell you not to do it but I really want you to do it" admonishment that I should not try to match his cross-cultural listing efforts. (He's doing his top ten hair metal jams... and practically dared me to to my favorite rap songs.) Well, Corey knows damn well that I can turn down neither a challenge nor a list. So over the next few days, this pasty white boy is going to give you his list of his 20 favorite rap songs ever.
For the record, they're not the only 20 I knew. I actually listed 37 off the top of my head before starting to narrow down to my favorite 20 or 25. In the end I decided to go with 20. And I should make clear that I am not claiming these to be the 20 best rap songs ever; I admittedly am no expert on the genre and can't really make an educated list of the "best" rap -- only the stuff that I like. And no, no Vanilla Ice or MC Hammer is anywhere in sight. The thing is, I really do like some rap -- while I hate most hip-hop, I do like rap. Some of the stuff I like may be considered comical and commercial by true rap aficianados, but what can I say? I'm a pasty white boy. So here comes my next list... enjoy.
Posted by Christopher at 10:46 PM | Comments (0)Pasty White Boy's Top 20 Rap Tunes: #20-#19
20. "The Message" -- Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five I'll start my countdown with the "Rock Around The Clock" or "Hound Dog" of rap ... one of the first massive hits from the genre. It's my personal opinion that Grandmaster Flash ought to be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame; he was/is a pioneer of an entire genre of music. I like the beat, I love the lyrics -- social commentary generally does pretty well with me, better than the usual chest-thumping. Plus, how do you not like a song that can find a place to fit "sacroiliac" into a rhyme in a way that actually sort of makes sense in context?
19. "Gangsta's Paradise" -- Coolio Automatically gets a point in its favor for featuring Michelle Pfieffer in the video. But I didn't just like the song for that. I love the minor chord and the foreboding tone in the progression. And maybe it was helped by the movie it came from, but the rap in the song, I thought, conveyed a sense of desperation and hopelessness that I felt was compelling. Of course, the vocal lyrics were as contrived as "We Are The World" -- "why are we so blind to see that the ones we hurt are you and me" -- what, are Cyndi Lauper and Huey Lewis going to sing the next lines? -- so it knocks the song's impact down a bit. And so does Coolio's hair. I know the song was parodied and is scoffed at in some quarters, but I liked it then and like it now.
Posted by Christopher at 10:41 PM | Comments (0)Blog Stew: Back On The Blog Edition
So the parental visit is now complete and a piece of history. All involved weathered the visit in fine fashion, save for my father's sore throat and laryngitis that hit in midstream. No animals were harmed in the making of this visit. Meanwhile, a few random thoughts on some stuff that happened while I was busy hosting family:
1. Buck O'Neill is pothsumously awarded the Medal of Freedom. I knew of Buck O'Neill, but like most of the country I didn't know Buck O'Neill until the 1994 Ken Burns miniseries on baseball. And like most of the country, I grew to love the old man; what a charming, gracious, funny, spirited, dignified ambassador he was for the game I love above all others. It's a tragedy to me that he missed election to the Hall of Fame by one vote last year, because he died at the age of 94 about 12 weeks back and never received the honors due him. But in the first move Bush has made all year that I've agreed with, he awarded Buck O'Neill the nation's highest civilian honor last week, presenting O'Neill's Medal of Freedom to his 91 year old brother at a White House ceremony. Few members of the baseball Hall of Fame have ever been awarded this honor, so O'Neill once again outclassed much of the rest of his sport. The honor and ceremony were a fitting tribute and final salute to one of the finer human beings the sport -- or the nation -- have ever known.
2. Miss USA Fired, Then Un-Fired So Tara Conner, the 20 year old total hottie who won the Miss USA pageant only to be fired by Donald Trump for alleged underage drinking and drug use, has been mysteriously and suddenly re-hired by the Donald under the guise of him believing in second chances. Okay, maybe I'm a cynic and am unfairly taking Trump's reputation and history with younger blondes into consideration... but does anyone else think that perhaps the Donald might have, shall we say, made some requests of Ms. Conner before he allowed her back to her crown? Oh... you're right -- of course that kind of thing doesn't happen anymore -- least of all between a billionaire known for power trips and a weakness for 20something beauties, and a wide-eyed southern girl caught up in the bright lights of New York. Nah... that would never happen. But I am guessing that Ms. Conner might be able to tell us whether Trump's hair is real or toupee.
3. Isaiah Thomas is a punk and an asshat. Lemme get this straight... a team GM and coach -- one who has utterly bungled everything he has touched since taking control of his team, who fired a Hall of Famer only to lead his team to a pathetic 9-17 record -- gets caught on camera overtly threatening another player and warning him that it would be a bad idea to go into the paint... and nothing happens to him. He's not fined, not suspended, not taken out back and kneecapped, not fired. Okay, it's official: Isaiah Thomas has photos of somebody with a goat. And this is one more reason why I hate the NBA. (Yes, fights happen in baseball too. But at least when managers order their pitchers to throw at someone, they face actual consequences.) Memo to Steve Francis: I don't think George Karl is afraid of you or of the Knicks. I don't think anyone is afraid of the Knicks. You're playing .333 ball and have won two games at home all year. No one fears you, son. And memo to the Knicks: if you don't like losing by 19 points, here's a suggestion... start playing better. The only way you can have the score run up on you is if you suck. The Knicks do -- as has every single thing Isaiah Thomas has touched since leaving the playing court.
4. Paris Hilton says "sex is sacred." In other news, OJ Simpson says murder is wrong, and Lindsay Lohan says you shouldn't drink. Hearing a crudded-up skank claim to have only been in two sexual relationships is almost as funny as hearing Fox News claim to be fair and balanced. Oh well... Paris Hilton, Fox News... same class of people, same intelligence involved.
Posted by Christopher at 09:39 PM | Comments (0)December 18, 2006
Still Here (or, Merry Christmas, Curmudgeon Brown)
I didn't disappear on you, I promise. It's been a little bit of a hectic few days here; Curmymom and my dad (who I suspect would not be cool with being called anything like "Curmydad") came up to New York to celebrate the holidays and visit -- coming here together, as opposed to only one coming up while the other stays home to dogsit or enjoy a free weekend or something like that, for the first time since the tri-state area became home base for me eight years ago. So we've been doing the family thing since Thursday, and will for a little longer yet before they head back to the semi-retired peace and quiet of the Delaware shore. Highlights of the visit to date include:
-- The much anticipated meeting of the parents and the girlfriend. While I would love to build this up for the sake of the blog and turn it into a Hollywood-esque tale of nerves, knot-in-stomach anticipation and awkwardness, with hilarity ensuing... the truth is that I can't and it wasn't. I was actually less nervous about this meeting than I have ever been about introducing anyone to them, whether it was a serious thing or just a temporary thing. I knew they'd love TG and vice-versa -- and they did, hugs and smiles all around by the end of the couple of days we all spent hanging out. Dunno what it means when you just know in your gut that everyone's going to click and don't worry about it at all, but I did and it went like I thought it would. Seals of approval all around from all sides -- meaning that I get to keep both TG and my parents. ;-)
-- We did dinner together Friday night, then did the holiday gift exchange Saturday before heading to the New York Botanical Gardens and the Bronx Zoo Saturday night to see the holiday displays... and to meet TG's 4 year old, which also went well. However, I had a testosterone-sucking experience out of the whole thing. Because my car is too small to hold four adults and a child in a car seat comfortably, we decided to use TG's minivan. Because TG is nervous about driving in the city, we decided (or, shall I say, it was decided for me) that I should drive. So I carted my parents, my girlfriend, and a very excited 4 year old around... in a mini-van. Just start calling me the Eunuch Curmudgeon, I guess. Anyway, all jokes aside, the botanical gardens in particular were really something... if you are in the New York area, I strongly recommend a trip to the botanical gardens.
-- Sunday was our day in Manhattan, my parents and I. Seeing that both my mother and I are hot dog junkies, the first order of business was to hit Gray's Papaya for a couple hot dogs. (Mom committed the utter heresy of proclaiming that Nathan's is better... I almost abandoned her in the city.) After the hot dogs, we hit the Bryant Park holiday fair, then wandered over to Times Square, up Broadway, and then over to Rockefeller Center to see the tree and the shop windows along Fifth Avenue. (Curmymom would harm me if I neglected to mention that she went into Saks and made a purchase, pretty much because I virtually dared her by saying she would never buy anything in that overpriced store... she was prouder of that Saks bag than new parents in a neo-natal ward.) We ended up the afternoon by heading over to Virgil's near Times Square for barbecue. Yeah, I know it's touristy. Shut up -- it's really good barbecue!
In the end, it was a good chance to have my parents visiting New York together (finally!) and to connect the two halves of my familial world. We had great, warm weather in New York this weekend for it, and couldn't have had a better time. So... I'll be back a little later in the next day or so. Just wanted to let y'all know why I've not been blogging lately. Have a happy Monday (oh, by the way I have the day off for my parents' visit, so... have a really happy Monday, all you working people).
Posted by Christopher at 07:36 AM | Comments (0)December 14, 2006
The End Of The Curmudgeon
No, I'm not quitting the blog (although I have been considering it). So you can just cut short the celebratory parties and congratulatory high fives and other displays of glee and testosterone. However, I've been noticing lately that, outside of silly lists, I have been finding it much harder to find things to vent write about. And I'm sure that you've all noticed, as I have, that even when I do write, I've kind of become... well, boring. This blog is losing steam, and I can tell.
I've had occasion in the last couple of weeks to really do an assessment of my little corner of the world. And the conclusion that I reached in that self-analysis is the same one that, I think, is really hurting my efforts on this blog.
I'm not a curmudgeon anymore.
For three-plus years I've based the persona on this blog on the concept that I'm usually cheesed off about something and need to vent. In real life, that's not a concept... I've had a metaphorical chip on my shoulder about any and everything for most of my adult life -- and my caustic, sometimes-humorous, always-individual takes on whatever's ticking me off at the moment have become as much a part of my personality as stubbornness or any other attribute. When blogging surfaced, it gave me not just a vehicle but an audience for these rants and vents. I used this blog as not just an outlet, but as an extension of my personality.
But I can't do it anymore. My personality -- or at least my persona, or my outlook -- has changed. The truth is, some time when I wasn't watching in the past year or so, I stopped being a curmudgeon. I stopped being ticked about life in general. Somehow, I ended up (shudder!) ... happy.
There's a lot of factors involved. Foremost among them is TG, of course. I'd be embarrassed to admit it on this blog, except that I cannot hide it from anyone who knows me in real life, so I'll just say it. In the parlance of the movie Bambi, I am twitterpated. So that's a big part of it, no doubt.
But just about everything else that could possibly go right in life has gone so this year for me. 2006 has to go down as the best year I've had. Beyond the social developments... I finally moved into a place I like, which means no more coming home from work to resent the world for the crappy tiny apartment that New York prices forced me to live in. Professionally, this year has gone beyond anything I ever imagined; as a good friend pointed out last night at the company holiday observance, in the past year I've genuinely achieved "international recognition" as an expert in what I do... and let's face it: being recognized is fun. Feeling comfortable and confident in your job instead of feeling like you have something to prove... well, it goes a long way toward making you happy. I have had good friends up here in New York, but in the last year or two I've really both expanded that circle and become much more comfortable with them... I have a lot of good friends here now, people who watch out for me and enjoy having me around... I like that part of my life. Actually, right now I like every part of my life.
So how does one maintain a blog based on always being ticked off about something, when nothing about life ticks you off anymore? I've gotten fat and happy (in both the literary and the literal sense) in the last year or two, and one of the end results is that I just seem to have lost steam in the blogging department. The vents and rants have dried up. Sure, conservatives still piss me off, but this isn't entirely a political blog and I've no desire to make it one. (Then I couldn't go on delirious rants about Britney, for example.) But for the most part, I just don't have much to get negatively worked up about right now. Rage and incredulity have always been the motivation for me to sit down and write... and I just don't have much rage or incredulity left in the tank, kids.
So I apologize for the lackluster nature of this blog lately. I've gotten boring, and I know it. I'm confident enough a writer to think that I will get "it" back and be able to find a new motivator and a new style if need be... but it's going to take me some time to find my way. I will be compelling enough to read again at some point, I promise you -- without relying on cheap tricks like lists (though I do have a "59 Best One Hit Wonders Ever" list on tap and ready to go, once the boredom from the last one has worn down). All I ask is that you bear with me.
I don't know what stride I'm going to find. I just know that -- at least for the time being anyway -- that when I find it, it will not be the "lovable Oscar the Grouch" persona I've carried in the blogosphere for 40 months and in life for at least 150 months. I'm just not angry anymore.
The Curmudgeon is dead. Long Live The Curmudgeon!
Posted by Christopher at 08:07 AM | Comments (1)Get Well, Senator Johnson
Senator Tim Johnson (D-South Daokta) has apparently suffered a stroke, thus throwing control of the Senate into doubt. South Dakota has a Republican governor who is already issuing statements about how nothing says he has to appoint a replacement from the same party, so if Johnson is incapacitated or dies, Republicans will once again control the Senate.
Get Well Soon, Senator Johnson.
Posted by Christopher at 07:06 AM | Comments (0)December 12, 2006
Cash Back
This isn't quite new; it looks to have been released last month. But it's new to me... so if you've seen it or heard it already, don't mind me for raving about old news.
By the time he reached his 60s and I reached my 30s, Johnny Cash was one of my musical idols. He was one of the most authentic voices in music history, authentic and powerful and commanding. Whatever The Man In Black was singing about -- be it walking the line, the burn of forbidden love in the ring of fire, how hard it was to be a boy named Sue, or wanting to ride silver stallions with the Highwaymen -- you just felt the passion and belief in the man's voice; there was no artifice to Johnny Cash. When he sang aboout why he always wore black, you knew he really did wear it for the poor and beaten down. When he sang "Hurt" toward the end of his life, it took on an aching poignancy and a power that Trent Reznor's original, as good as it was, couldn't muster. Trent was singing about addiction, which few of us ever must wrestle. But when Johnny sang it, it was about getting old and the ravages of time, and every line drew you closer to the realization that you too are someday going to wither, grow old, and die. Johnny made it about us; but then again, everything that Johnny Cash sang was about all of us.
Before he died in 2003, Johnny Cash did one last set of vocal recordings for his "American Recordings V: A Hundred Highways" album. The single from the album, "God's Gonna Cut You Down," is one I only now heard and saw the video for. And the only reaction I can have is: God I miss Johnny Cash. Sparse and minimalist, the arrangement here is at once righteous and rebellious; the power and passion of Cash's voice once again has you begging to go wherever he wants you to go. If Cash was the preacher, even I would go to church on Sunday.
The video features nearly three dozen famous people dressed in black and paying tribute to Cash with their appearance... and the broadness of the spectrum from which these artists and actors are drawn shows you the extent of Cash's influence and legacy. Perhaps only a Johnny Cash video could open with Iggy Pop followed by Kanye West. The full list of those appearing in the video, in order is:
Iggy Pop, Kanye West, Chris Martin (Coldplay), Kris Kristofferson, Patti Smith, Terrence Howard, Flea, Q-Tip, Adam Levine (Maroon 5), Chris Rock, Justin Timberlake, Kate Moss, Sir Peter Blake, Sheryl Crow, Dennis Hopper, Woody Harrelson, Amy Lee (Evanescence), Tommy Lee, Dixie Chicks, Mick Jones, Sharon Stone, Bono, Shelby Lynne, Anthony Kiedis, Travis Barker (Blink 182), Lisa Marie Presley, Kid Rock, Jay Z, Keith Richards, Billy Gibbons, Corinne Bailey Rae, Johnny Depp, Graham Nash, Brian Wilson, Rick Rubin, and Owen Wilson.
God, I miss Johnny Cash.
Posted by Christopher at 09:50 PM | Comments (0)December 11, 2006
Isn't It... Wait, Alanis Used That One Already
One of Dictionary.com's definitions of irony is:
1. Incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs: "Hyde noted the irony of Ireland's copying the nation she most hated" (Richard Kain).
2. An occurrence, result, or circumstance notable for such incongruity. See Usage Note at ironic.
My definition is much simpler: it's just that thing that is kicking my ass right now.
Posted by Christopher at 11:02 PM | Comments (2)December 10, 2006
The 59 Worst One Hit Wonders Ever: #1
How fitting is it that I feel awful today and have quite the upset stomach? After all, we've reached the most stomach-churning one hit wonder of all time. Life imitates art.
1. Charlene - "I've Never Been To Me" (1982) On the continuum of sap, one song reigns supreme above all other god-awful cheesy songs. With lyrics from some Chicken Soup for the Self-Help Soul or Hallmark card on steroids, and a cheesy piano melody worthy of a Jim Brickman album, Charlene's 1982 sap-fest about regrets from having lived the life of a fast woman is untouchable in the pantheon of crappy songs. Other crappy sap came before it; much came after it. But much like Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretzky, Jimi Hendrix or Marlon Brando, sometimes someone comes along who is just so far ahead of their peers that all those who follow will bear the curse of being referred to as "the next (Jordan/Grtezky/Hendrix/Brando)." Charlene is that standard for one hit wonders. No one will ever surpass this song as the worst OHW of all time -- they'll only call it to mind in comparison.
The song begins with an international woman of mystery trying to talk some "sense" into the head of a wistful housewife. Right there, it enters the top 10 of all time, just for the subtle social conservative messaging that abounds from the first lyric... that having traveled the world and enjoyed sexual freedom is something that must by its very nature be regretted and that could not possibly be fulfilling.
Hey lady, you lady, cursing at your life; You're a discontented mother and a regimented wife. I've no doubt you dream about the things you'll never do. But, I wish someone had talked to me like I wanna talk to you.....
See? It even starts out under the premise that the housewife/mother track is the natural one to be happy for a woman... and if a woman longs for something more, she must simply be "talked to" by someone who "knows better." Freaking conservatives (then again, it was the height of the Reagan era). I don't suppose it just could be that different women want different lives, and the whole child/wife thing that represents the aspirations of one might be not right for another, now could it? Look, I'm not ripping stay-at-home moms; my mom was one until I was like 16. I know how hard it is to do that, and it's every bit as respectable a choice as a career or wanderlust. But that's the point: it's a choice. Not some conservative fantasy about how women can only be fulfilled by domestication.
Please lady, please lady, don't just walk away -- 'Cause I have this need to tell you why I'm all alone today. I can see so much of me still living in your eyes; won't you share a part of a weary heart that has lived a million lies?
The not so subtle social conservative message here? Follow any other life path than the approved breeder track, and you'll end up alone. Oh - and every other experience you'd have had would merely have been lies.
Oh, I've been to Nice and the Isle of Greece while I've sipped champagne on a yacht; I've moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo and showed 'em what I've got. I've been undressed by kings and I've seen some things that a woman ain't supposed to see... I've been to paradise, but I've never been to me.
Just what is it that women ain't supposed to see? Since the context immediately preceding the line is about her being undressed by kings, we're left to presume that a woman ain't supposed to see a nekkid guy -- let alone a nekkid king. You know... because sex is bad, especially for women.
[spoken] Hey, you know what paradise is? It's a lie, a fantasy we create about people and places as we'd like them to be. But you know what truth is? It's that little baby you're holding, it's that man you fought with this morning -- the same one you're going to make love with tonight! That's truth, that's love......
Okay, back to the first rule of songs: you must never include a spoken word portion of any song. It can never help; it can only make the song crappier than a porta-potti at an Ex-Lax convention. But it's even worse when your spoken words are once again reinforcing the social conservative mantra that all other paths for women that are not mother/wife are destined to leave one empty. See - everything that's not your baby or husband is a lie, a fantasy you've created in your mind about what else you might have done in your life. And truth? Well, truth is that little baby you're holding, the one you had after accepting the woman's "proper" role as a baby factory and as a live blow-up doll at her husband's sexual disposal. Because even though you fought with him this morning, you're going to make love to him tonight. You know why? Because that's truth; that's love! It doesn't matter how mad you are or what he did... you're going to do it because that's love. Now, why don't you scurry on back to the kitchen, take off your shoes, fix me my dinner, and get ready for that lovin' later on?
Sometimes I've been to crying for unborn children that might have made me complete. But I took the sweet life, I never knew I'd be bitter from the sweet.
Again... if you don't choose the baby factory path, you're incomplete. You're bitter. You're broken. Because after all, a woman can't be a woman unless she chooses to be made fruitful to multiply, iddn't that right?
I've spent my life exploring the subtle whoring that costs too much to be free. Hey lady, I've been to paradise -- but I've never been to me.
Unga-bunga! Ug! Argh! Sex bad! It whoring! It have cost! And you can't have discovered your true self -- "being to you," as it were -- that way. Sex ain't free -- it costs you your very self-known soul!
Rarely have a song's lyrics fit so perfectly with the political agenda of its time; a limited, narrow view of women and their purpose in life, and a hatred of all life choices that do not mesh with what men think they ought to want. I'm surprised that some evangelical mega-church hasn't adopted this song as their women's groups theme song. Sappy, cheesy, and dripping with misogyny, Charlene's "I've Never Been To Me" easily is the worst song by a one hit wonder ever -- and she's the worst one hit wonder ever for agreeing to sing this Neanderthal piece of tripe.
Posted by Christopher at 07:33 PM | Comments (2)December 07, 2006
The 59 Worst One Hit Wonders Ever: #2
2. Silk - "Freak Me" (1993) You know, call me a prude. You'd be wrong, but go ahead and call me one. Because I don't think that making an entire song's lyrics from things that people might whisper to each other in bed is sexy; I think it's crass, classless, juvenile, and flat out rude. I'm offended by this song's very existence.
Don't get me wrong; I am decidedly not condemning dirty pillow talk. Whatever floats one's boat and all that. But there's a big difference between saying stuff when the two of you are in the privacy of your own room, and saying it as a come-on in front of others. Said quietly when it's just the two of you, it can work quite nicely. Said out loud as a sort of peacockish mating call is the audio equivalent of Drakkar Noir. Let's just examine some of the charmers in Silk's 1993 "hit," shall we?
Let me lick you up and down, Til you say stop. Let me play with your body baby, Make you real hot. Let me do all the things you want me to do, Cuz tonight baby I wanna get freaky with you. Baby don't you understand, I wanna be your nasty man. I wanna make your body scream.
Ladies, wouldn't a man coming up to you in a club or bar and saying this... well, wouldn't make you just... ooh... you know... slap the living snot out of the crass and disrespectful little punk? Somehow, I just don't see this track of pick-up line working on any woman who doesn't charge by the hour.
I love the taste of whipcream; spread it on, don't be mean. (baby don't be mean) You know I can't resist you girl, I'll fly you all around the world, (all around the world, oh baby), I wanna make your body drip. C'mon let me take a sip.
Wow. What class. I imagine that strippers and street walkers all over America just melted all over when they heard such smooth and classy delivery. Wait, that's not really being fair. Strippers are too classy to swoon over crap like this.
This song reminds me of the Jersey Shore crowd, thinking they're ladykillers in their wife-beaters, six gold chains, Drakkar Noir, and gelled-up hair... when really they're pardoies of their own selves who are laughed at by the rest of the world. This song's about as sexy as a pus-filled boil on the inner thigh or an Opie & Anthony morning show. And the only thing more pathetic than the jokers who performed it or the men who thought women dug come-ons like this... would be any women who actually fell for it. (I'll state for the record that I'd be afraid to even tuck a dollar bill in the g-string of the woman who thought this was seductive.)
You know those comedians who use a lot of f-bombs in their act but aren't really funny... they're just hoping that the shock value of their saying the word will make you think it's funny? Garbage like this song is the musical version of that; the pathetic loser singers can't actually be sexy, so they just decide that maybe if they talk in great detail about sex, some woman will be shocked into being seduced.
Again... emphatically not trashing dirty talk here. Just wishing like hell that, somewhere between 1984 and 1993, R&B hadn't degenerated into little more than cheesy, disrespectful, explicit crap. A generation ago, we had greats like Marvin Gaye and Al Green. Today, we have diarrhea like this.
(Oh - and yes, I know that Silk had several more hits on the R&B charts... thankfully, this seems to be the only one that made the pop charts.)
Posted by Christopher at 09:25 PM | Comments (3)December 06, 2006
The 59 Worst One Hit Wonders Ever: #3
3. Debby Boone - "You Light Up My Life" (1977) My friend Tim is hoping, wanting -- nay, demanding! -- that this song be #1 by unanimous acclimation on not only the list of worst one hit wonders ever, but of worst songs ever, period. To his mind, You Light Up My Life "started us down the continuum of sap" and thus must be reviled as few things in history, along with the Vichy French, powder blue tuxedos, and the replacement Dukes of Hazzard.
I have two problems with his theory. First, I would argue that the continuum of sap began actually nine years earlier, with Bobby Goldsboro's hideous ode to a dead lover, "Honey." Debby Boone was merely the latest in a series of sap, following "Honey," "Run Joey, Run," "Shannon" by Henry Gross (which fueled the now-famous Casey Kasem vent about the little dog named Snuggles) and "Wildfire" by Michael Martin Murphey. So giving Boone the credit or blame for the sap continuum is a bit kind to her; I say she was just a lame pretender in that line.
Also, just because something is first doesn't always make it worst. Think about it; Phil Donahue may have started daytime TV about cross-dressers and my baby daddy, but Jerry Springer elevated it to a vile and putrid art form. And in the case of sap, I'd argue that there were at least two worse sappy violations of the sanctity of the human ears to follow Debby Boone. Celine Dion's wretched, vomit-burp inducing theme from the worst Oscar winning movie of all time is one of them; the other will appear later in this countdown.
All that said, Debby Boone does rank as the Ace of Diamonds on the Deck of Cards relating to musical criminals. "You Light Up My Life" is sappy, vile, wretched... and that's even before you listen to the words and realize that the chick is singing a love song ... to God. Not a gospel song, but an actual love/lust song to the Almighty. I mean, when the rest of us talk about making the earth shake for a woman, we're being metaphorical -- but with li'l Debby, when her world gets rocked the earth literally does shake. Meanwhile, I just feel like a song that sounds like she's lusting after a Divine-ing Rod is, well, pretty freakin' creepy. Added to a lame-ass melody, cheesy and plodding pacing, and featuring both a flute and Muzak strings, and you have one of the worst songs ever written, recorded, or heard by mammalian ears.
Posted by Christopher at 11:10 PM | Comments (9)Next We'll Be Expecting Them To Work, Too
In general, I am far more sympathetic to politicians than the bulk of the American people. I've worked with them, I've called some my friends, and for a while I aspired to be one; I know that while some of them really are the charicatures that the media and demagogues like to turn them into, there are others who are good and decent people who really did get into "the game" out of idealism and a desire to make things better. And I hate when people trot out the same, tired, "politicians are just trying to get elected/re-elected" whine... you know what, kids? We all do and say the things we need to do to keep our jobs. Let's not be so high and mighty about someone who's trying to keep theirs. Despite all the garbage that we've seen in the last two decades, I still am idealistic enough to think that politics and public service are, at their core, noble pursuits... and it's the individuals in the system and not the system itself that is corrupt. Call me idealistic, call me naive, call me foolish... but I do still believe it.
Every once in a while, though, a politician will say something that just causes me to roll my eyes and wonder just how far removed from real people and real lives that it's possible to get. Such a statement has been issued now by my early candidate for the Biggest Horse's Ass in the 110th Congress: Represenative Jack Kingston (R-Ga).
See, the incoming House leadership has determined that in the next Congress, the House is going to take the radical step of actually working 5 days a week. The 109th Congress met for fewer days than any Congress in modern history, and got used to a three day work week (Tues-Thurs) plus months and months of recess. In two years, the 109th Congress worked a grand total of 103 days. And the incoming leadership thinks that maybe Congress would get more done if Congress actually, you know, met. So they've sent notice out to lawmakers that Monday and Friday are Congressional work days from now on, and that members of Congress should expect to work a five day week just like the rest of us.
How did Jack Kingston react? "Keeping us up here eats away at families," said Rep. Jack Kingston (R-Ga.), who typically flies home on Thursdays and returns to Washington on Tuesdays. "Marriages suffer. The Democrats could care less about families -- that's what this says."
So working five days a week "eats away at families," does it, Jack? It makes "marriages suffer?" Well then, I expect to see you storming into Congress on January 3 with a bill that mandates that no American can work a five day week. After all, if marriages are suffering, we have to protect the institution of marriage, don't we? And -- I just thought of something, Jack-Ass... you're making $165,200 a year as a member of Congress. What about all those people who make less than that? What about people who are working five (or six, or even seven) days a week on your pathetically anemic minimum wage that Republiucans have refused to increase for nine years? What do you think working all that time does to their marriages? And you say it's Democrats who "could care less about families?" (Nice grammar, by the way, Jack-Ass. I think you meant to say "couldn't care less.")
And yes, politicians have to travel and spend time in DC away from their families, there's no doubt. But guess what, Jack-Ass? So do millions of Americans, every day, in the private sector. I know this for a fact -- I don't even have a family yet to worry about being away from... but while I'm no one special, even I spent more than 75 days in 2006 -- about 1/5 of the year -- on the road somewhere. And I know plenty of people who travel more often than that and have to be away from home for even longer. So I'm sorry, but your little excuse is kaput, Jack-Ass.
So remember, kids... poor Jack-Ass Kingston of Georgia thinks that a five day work week is damaging to families and marriages. He believes that as a Congressman, he is entitled to a three day work week. Perhaps we should contact ol' Jack-Ass and let him know what we think of that.
Posted by Christopher at 07:48 AM | Comments (5)December 05, 2006
The 59 Worst One Hit Wonders Ever: #4
4. Shannon - "Let The Music Play" (1983) On the list because... well, because I hate this freaking song. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Quite possibly the most annoying tune ever written. (The other three songs remaining are a combination of lyrics and melody, not just sheer musical ugliness like this one.) Not that the lyrics are Nerudian works of poetry in this one either... "love says," and "what does love want me to do?" Hey girlfriend? "Love" is a friggin concept. It's not even an inanimate object. And love sure as hell doesn't "want" you to do anything... this whole love as a character with whom you're conversing is just stupid.
But the music... dear god, the music. Sheer torture. I can't even find the words for it. I hate every note of this song.
Posted by Christopher at 10:20 PM | Comments (2)December 04, 2006
The 59 Worst One Hit Wonders Ever: #5
Thanks for bearing with me while I had computer issues over the last five days.
5. Ready For The World - "Oh Shiela" (1985) The thing about doing Prince is that you really need to be Prince. Otherwise, you're a cheap ripoff. Beyond the fact that this song represents pretty much the worst of 80s R&B (only one R&B song finishes higher on my "your one hit really sucked" list), Ready For The World makes this list for two very simple reasons:
1) If you're not Morris Day and the Time, you are not allowed to do synchronized dance moves on stage with your instruments. If you're not Morris Day and the Time, you just look stupid.
2) Dig the opening of the song. Not. First of all, we've already discussed the whole thing about having spoken word elements to your song (Timmy T, Gregory Abbott, etc.). It can never help, it can only make your song suck. But more importantly... dig the cheesy accented delivery. "Like we ohl-wize sigh... what's goood for the goo-ise... is ohl-wize good fuh the gand-uh. Oh She-y-la." You know where these jokers were from? Flint. Freakin'. Michigan. Apparently, the regional accent in Flint, Michigan is genuine imitation Cockney. Seriously, the only other example of such a horrid faux British accent in the history of entertainment was Kevin Costner's "accent" in Robin Hood. And if it's impossible to be a good one hit wonder when your song sucks, and when you do stupid little synched up dances, it's especially impossible when you're affecting the world's worse British accent.
Posted by Christopher at 07:47 PM | Comments (1)
