Live Bowling the Super Blog

Welcome to the first and final Annual Super Bowl Post.  There may will be profanity and a severe lack of proofreding.  I'm not sure how fast or furious the updates will come, but I will need to take breaks for food prep and bathrooming and marveling at the spectacle (often all at the same time).

As mentioned on Friday, "I'm rooting for Denver. But if I were a betting man, I would be taking Seattle (+2.5) and the over."  I just quoted and linked myself right there.  With that out of the way, here we go:

7:05pm PST - Thanks for checking in!  Now go watch something exciting!

7:02pm PST - Had I actually placed my planned parlay bet, I would have won have been have myself a payout of 13/5.  But I didn't.  Anyway, somehow Chevy Silverado had the ad of the night, mostly because I really wanted to make fun of their ad campaign, but they beat me to it.  Go 'Merica cars!

7:00pm PST - Kristen and I were so involved in this game, that we're already discussing laundry.  At least Downton Abbey's coming up in two hours.

6:55pm PST - The over/under for bathroom runs was 4.5.  If you took the under you won.  This game was just too riveting.  Or I didn't have enough to drink.

Russell Wilson isn't even sweating during the post-game interview.  I don't think he and his team even had to work for today's victory.  Complete dominance.

6:49pm PST - For all I've complained about Denver, Seattle was excellent.

6:47pm PST - Peyton didn't even get a fuck during that fumble.  I think I saw him texting Eli while his line scrambled for the ball.

6:45pm PST - Not even a pass, Peyton?  You're going to keep making your backfield suffer for what's not their fault?

6:41pm PST - This game isn't worth the dusty bourbon.  I've switched to Miller Lite.

6:37pm PST - So Fox's big surprise teasey commercial reveal was a new season of 24?  This is the shruggiest Super Bowl telecast I've seen.

6:31pm PST - Refs doing okay.  Play-by-play not annoying.  I'm so confused.

6:23pm PST - For those who follow football next year, you'll probably start hearing this Talking Piehole talking point: Can the AFC compete against the NFC?  Similar to the NBA's, "can the East compete against the West?"

6:05pm PST - The only thing that Bob did right in that commercial is shave that Vincent Price moustache.

6:02pm PST - WHY CAN'T YOU FUCKING TACKLE?  "Just terrible defense," says Aikman.  I actually agree.

Okay, I'm so bored/ashamed by the Broncos that I'm going to start rooting for the refs.

5:58pm PST - In more important news, my wife and I are feasting on Turkey Meatballs and Pastry Bites from Trader Joe's, both very awesome.  I'm still working on that bottle of stout.  And the Broncos' coaches are still working on selecting a play that works outside of practice.

5:57pm PST - Apparently Bruce Willis felt the same.

5:55pm PST - A total lack of violence, misogyny, and homophobia in the commercials.  This is the Super Bowl, right?

5:49pm PST - How terrible are the Broncos?  I'd rather listen to Joe Buck speak than watch them play.  Sadly, I have to do both if this is to continue.

5:41pm PST - DEMARYIUS THOMAS STOP RUNNING BACKWARDS!

5:34pm PST - I'm going to say this right now, even the Giants could beat these Broncos tonight.

5:31pm PST - Halftime over aaaaaaand Seattle already scored.  They are going to get the over on their own.

5:23pm PST - Mandy the puppy just dropped the ball faster than Demaryius Th---

Okay, I'll stop.

5:19pm PST - Wife just brought vegetables into the television room.  I've been told they qualify as food.  I'll take her word for it.

5:18pm PST - Enough Broncos jokes?

5:15pm PST - Loren will be joining the Denver backfield in the second half.

5:14pm PST - So far, the baby pups have shit the field less than the Broncos' special teams.

5:07pm PST - Lots of growth over the years with Puppy Bowl.  They now use the Fox Sports theme and the aforementioned deceased Muppets are advertising on the show.

And Michelle Obama.

Frankly, I'm seeing better defensive execution from the pups right now.  I hope the Broncos' secondary is watching this.

5:01pm PST - Keyboard Cat looked a little disgusted.  Was it because he's a Broncos fan?  Or because they were forcing him to playing Bruno Mars crap?

4:58pm PST - May I recommend the Kitty Halftime show from Puppy, brought to you by my former employers.  It the most watched public-access-quality content in the history of television.  Enjoy.

4:55pm PST - It's official.  Disney has somehow ruined the Muppets.  That takes some doing, but leave it to Disney to get it done.  Best wishes with Star Wars, y'all.

4:53pm PST - Go for it, John Fox, 22-3 is disgusting.

4:49pm PST - Coca-Cola, why are you exploiting American pride for your ads?  You're bigger than America, you don't need us.

4:38pm PST - Blowout alert.  Serious Serious Blowout alert.  While Seattle's defense is playing very well, Denver is playing very poorly.

What's making this bloggery most difficult is the limpness of the ads.  They're neither great nor terrible.  In fact they're quite normal.

4:33pm PST - Halfway through the second quarter and Peyton completes his first real pass.

And, yyyyyyeah, that was a burly first down.  Monte Ball, Badger alum, well done.

4:32pm PST - "Demaryius"?

4:31pm PST - The first time I shout at the television.

4:24pm PST - So, let me get this straight Bud Light is advertising screw tops and aluminum cans?  That's almost as bad as Coors Light advertising that their beer is cold.

And yes, there will be dragons and Mark Wahlberg in your next Transformers experience.  That film series has to be the most aggressive mediocrity in the history of cinema.  What alarms me is that in ten years we'll look back at the Transformers films as the peak of their genre, Big Robots Punching Each Other and Destroying Cities.

4:15pm PST - If you bet the over, you're probably contemplating something you never thought you would......will Denver actually score?

4:08pm PST - As a big U2 fan, I say "Meh".  I hope the rest of "Invisible" or "Invincible" sounds better......I'm already forgetting the song.

4:01pm PST - Opened up the stout.  Anderson Valley took their Oatmeal Stout and aged it former Wild Turkey barrels for three months.  It's good stuff, I hope they do another batch of it this year.

On the football side of things, Denver is doing well defending the run but look very shaky against the pass.

3:57pm PST - My sincere condolences to those whom put their money on Denver covering the spread.

3:48pm PST - Thank you Chevy Silverado.  That was awesome.

3:44pm PST - Good to see Maserati speaking for the little guy now.

3:41pm PST - Regarding the previous two notes.  Denver's special teams, offense, and defense looked weak all within the first five minutes (of actual time, not game time).

3:37pm PST - Wow, Denver.  Looking good.

3:34pm PST - Wow, Denver.  Looking good.

3:32pm PST - It's official, James Franco is everywhere.  He's the attendant in our guest bathroom right now.

3:28pm PST - Joe Namath wearing Suzy Kolber's fur coat?

3:23pm PST - I think I speak for many when I say, I'm glad they went with a professional singer over a pop star.

And get ready for some skull-crushing axe battles in the new "Noah" movie.  Because the End of Mankind does not provide nearly enough of a challenge for the protagonist.

3:10pm PST - I will not mock singing children.  Yet.

Robert Redford is in the new Captain America movie.  Apparently, "All is Lost" doesn't pay the bills.

These are the two beverages for today.  Got yer Old Taylor from the National Distillers era and my one of my...

Oh man, people at the stadium have to listen to Joe Buck's voice too?  I thought one of the perks behind the inflated ticket prices was that one didn't have to hear him at all.

...anyway, one of my favorite beers Anderson Valley Bourbon Barrel Stout will make an appearance too.

Also, am I the only one not understanding why Kurt Russell is playing emcee for the two teams' video introduction.  Why Kurt Russell?  Why both teams?  Why a video introduction, I mean we'll be seeing and hearing about these guys all night?

Some whisky updates and oh yeah I'm going to be live-blogging during the Super Bowl

1.  Not going to bury the lede here.  I was going to live-tweet during the Super Bowl, but realized live-tweeting is just a form of forced aggression.  My six twitter followers would have to keep seeing unfunny half-thoughts firing into their feed 60+ times in a three-hour period.  With live-blogging, a reader can choose when or if he/she wants to read my garbage.  Plus, I have the option to delete the whole post in case things go terribly wrong.

This will probably be the last Super Bowl I watch.  I missed thirteen in a row (XXXI-XLIII) when I didn't have cable, but really didn't miss a thing.  I've also been watching A LOT of football during these last three years.  Too many wasted Sundays watching people bludgeon the f*** out of each other in the hopes of witnessing a half second of derring-do.  Rules being instituted to try to curb life-crippling injuries cause issues with the gameplay itself and lead to other injuries because the sport is violent.  It's not bowling.  And it would also be nice if retired players (whom have helped make the NFL billions of dollars) received a little bit of long term healthcare assistance to deal with their broken bodies.  Both the league and the union have failed in this regard, and I feel ethical nausea watching it play out live in front of me.  But please know I'll be commenting on the gameplay as much as possible, I will check my ethics at the door.

And I love hating on advertising.  And I love hating on Sports Journalism Reporting Time-Filler Parasitic Flatulence; I hope you haven't wasted any of your life reading anything about gametime weather, Manning's legacy, Richard Sherman talking, Marshawn Lynch not talking, or the 12th Man (which won't be attending the game); do people really get paid for that "reporting"?  And I love hating on Joe Buck.

And there will be beverages, and profanity, and plenty of parasitic flatulence (for free).

I'm rooting for Denver.  But if I were a betting man, I would be taking Seattle (+2.5) and the over.

2.  I would to thank everyone for checking out my Whisky Consumer Advocacy post.  I appreciate the discussion that continues to follow.  There wasn't a single challenge from anyone in the hashtag-Whisky-Fabric community itself.  So I'm just going to assume that they were all incredibly humbled by words and will endeavor towards a higher level of ethics in the blogosphere and the whisky industry as a whole.  But if I were a betting man...

3.  Chemistry of the Cocktail posted a positive review of The Eagle Morning last Friday!  Please know that it only cost Jordan two ounces of his secret bottle of Malt Mill.

I'm thankful for all the feedback on The Eagle Morning.  There's a second full bottle of it in the cabinet.  I'd be happy to share it during swaps -- but I have to put swaps on hold for a few months because I don't have much stuff open!

And, yes, the cask is currently filled with another experiment.  It's one much less sexy than the previous two, but I really hope it winds up tasting good.

4.  You've probably heard this elsewhere, but The Angel's Share is now available for streaming on Netflix.  While one could carp about the fact that it seems like two films forced into one, both "films" are very good in their own way.  As the lead, Paul Brannigan's performance helps the script realize its intense emotional stakes.  It's a bit startling to witness comedy in a Ken Loach film, but it's also very welcome because the man continues to depict working class grit like no else.  Did I mention there's lots of whisky involved?  Keep an ear open for my favorite tasting note of all time.

5.  Finally, the full page view of the The Big Whisk(e)y List now has filters.  If Google Drive wasn't such a pain in the arse, there would be more sortable stuff.

Happy Friday!

Single Malt Report: The Yamazaki 18 is not The Harlem Shake

In 1981, Al B, a fellow in Harlem, created a dance called The Harlem Shake.  The wiggling shimmying step became very popular in the urban hip hop dance scene over the next thirty years.  In 2012, a dubstep artist named Baauer released a track named "The Harlem Shake" that had very little to do with the actual dance.  The video for the song became a YouTube sensation.  A internet meme quickly followed it in which a single person does a random dance in the middle of a space and then is suddenly joined by dozens of additional dancers going crazy in the ensuing edits.  Like all internet memes, it will not end until it is embraced by celebrities, so (happily) the Manchester City soccer team, Jimmie Johnson's racing team, and The Miami Heat basketball team have all released videos of themselves dancing around.



None of these new videos have anything to do with the actual Harlem Shake dance (see video at the top of the post), but they all call themselves The Harlem Shake.

I have no stake in The Harlem Shake -- please, everyone keep dancing! -- but if everything is The Harlem Shake then nothing is The Harlem Shake.  Linguistic nihilism is fantastic when it is a purposeful act.  But this viral cognitive sloth strikes me as something similar to the rash of apostrophe's in the wrong place's.

I'm going to go drink some whisky, because The Yamazaki 18 is not The Harlem Shake.

---

When I first reported on The Yamazaki 18 last year, I'd discovered it was pretty special.  Over the next seven months, the angels took their share of the sense memory from me.  Simultaneously the whisky became more and more mythical in my mind.  It was all SUPERLATIVE SUPERLATIVES.

Rumor on the malt street says that the newest batch of Yamazaki 18 should be hitting the States this month.  I have been counting the days.  I have also been dreading the price.  The previous release went from $80 to $100 to $130 in two years.

I didn't think I could trust my memory and, since I really do not like to spend that sort of cash on one bottle, I had to revisit the whisky.  Cue one trip to the secret bar that serves Yamazaki 18 at the same price as Glenmorangie 10.  Whisky funneled from glass into sample bottle.  Sample bottle shuttled home.  Three weeks later, the whisky slips back into a (Glencairn) glass.  Report time.

Distillery: Yamazaki
Ownership: Suntory Whisky

Age: minimum 18 years

Maturation: Toasted American oak puncheons, European oak sherry butts, Mizunara puncheons

Country: Japan

Alcohol by Volume: 43%

NEAT ONLY:
The color is a reddened mahogany.  An enormous nose.  Dark chocolate, fresh ginger, old bourbon,
pecans, cashews, thick molasses, bread pudding with Yamazaki 12 sauce, nutty cookies, amaretto, caramel sauce, and spicy fruit compote.  The palate......please allow me to drift into allegory... I taste things I don't understand.  They blossom for a moment, then I lose them, like a dream in the morning.  Unknown fruits (tropical? Asian?).  Rich rums.  A strange sandy wood.  Lime to gin to anise.  Aromatic toffee.  Marzipan, maybe?  Stewed fruits on a rum ice cream.  That marizpan-ish character continues through the finish.  The notes linger here so maybe I can net a few.  Brandied cherries, citrus peel, and anise.  Very aromatic and mildly sweet.  A flower candy moment.  Apricot jam and fresh oranges.  Endless...

Yep.

The question is, will the new batch be the same?  Because no matter how different it is from before, Suntory can still call it "The Yamazaki 18".  Much like The Harlem Shake.  Please don't let it be The Harlem Shake.

Availability - Scarce, for now
Pricing - $130-$150, for now [Ed. note: as of 1/1/14 its average price is $186]
Rating - 95

Sunday Ramblings

From 10am to 10pm, yesterday, we painted the living room and dining room.  Two coats, looking good.  My lower back and right index finger are sore and brain is mushy.  To celebrate the finished product, I opened a bottle of Oban 14yr that I'd purchased a half year ago.  An old fave, the Oban hit the spot (though it's seriously over-colored) and I was asleep after one dram.

In the very near future I'll be putting some posts about all of the fix-its that we've done around here.  The visuals have changed for the better.

---

A beautiful piece of street art by Escif in Poland.

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Kristen and I have been watching tons of NBA Playoff action -- much more interesting than regular season baseball, I'm sad to say.  I'm having a difficult time seeing anything but a Heat-versus-Thunder (how about that for team names?) Finals.  Those two teams will have to do themselves in; no one else has been putting up consistent offense or defense.

And the LA teams?  Not inspiring.  It would have been nice to have a Staples Center-based Western Conference Championship series, but there are other pipe-dreams that I value more.

But still, Go Clips......?

Friday Mumblings

With Mariano Rivera gone for the season (and possibly longer) the modicum of a shit I gave about baseball I eagerly take back.

Massive remodling going on at home right now.  Some smashing and destruction is involved.  Trying to limit my nervous breakdown to a mere heart attack.

And the Beastie Boys' MCA (Adam Yauch) has died.  What a crap week this has been.

Super Bowl Odds

So there's this thing on TV this Sunday, you may have heard of it.  It's a football game between a New Jersey team named after a pituitary problem versus a Massachusetts team full of loyalist nationalists.

My wife is rooting for the pituitary problems.  I don't know why.  I'm rooting for the partially-dressed fully-tanned people holding pom-poms and wearing white boots doing hip thrusts in the name of the team that pays them.

Second-string punters, every last one of them.

Oh wait, the pituitary problems don't have any leaders of gaiety.  So I cannot root for them.

The Vegas Odds for this battle opened as such:

NJ Pituitary Problems 55.5
MA Loyalist Nationalists -3.5

It has since dropped to:

NJ Pituitary Problems 54.5
MA Loyalist Nationalists -2.5

Surprisingly close.  Were I of the betting sort (and in LV right now), I'd put some serious money on the under.  The New Jerseys have a dynamite defense and the Massachusettses will probably be missing one of their top pass catchers.

Who am I to weigh in on odds?

Just some guy.

Just some guy who picked EVERY SINGLE AFC PLAYOFF GAME CORRECTLY.

Just some guy who picked every single AFC playoff game correctly and is now VERY CONCERNED ABOUT HAVING TEMPTED FATE.

Just some guy who picked every single AFC playoff game correctly and is now very concerned about having tempted fate, but shouldn't be worried because he didn't put any actual money on it and also that guy missed out on some serious whisky money from the winnings he could have had that in turn would have offset any concerns about fate.

What?

So instead, here are the odds I'm setting about the televised game:

Commercials - Over/under on nut shots - 4.5
Commercials - Over/under on someone getting hit in the face - 6.5
Commercials - Over/under on violence to animals, children, or woman played as comedy - 2.5
Play-by-Play - O/U on mentions of Broncos' quarterback who is not playing in the Super Bowl - 3.5
Play-by-Play - O/U on mentions of Colts' quarterback who is not playing in the Super Bowl - 7.5
Play-by-Play - O/U on mentions of the Pro Bowl - 0.5

I'll take the Over, Over, Over, Over, Over, Under.

If I make it all the way through the game, I'll report back on my winnings.  If not, then I'll force myself do an extra Single Malt Report as an apology.

I don't know what this is, but I approve.

Though Eli does not.

The Rodeo Clown

This:



Happy Thursday!

PLAYOFFS?! Yeah, I'm talkin' about playoffs.

Pic from blackandgold.com, Saints fansite (sorry)

Time for my barely informed NFL playoff pics.  I won't predict scores because that's the first sign of clinical psychosis.

First Round:
Giants over Falcons - The line on this one is Giants (-3). With Manning & Co at home, they can cover that.  But Eli will wait until the 4th Quarter to wake up.
Saints over Lions - Sproles will have 200 all-purpose yards by the end of the first kickoff.
Broncos over Steelers - TEBOW!  All he does is win.  But this time, it's because Big Ben breaks his ankle clean off in the first quarter.  Mr. Win will run for more yards than he'll throw.  I hate myself for this pick.
Texans over Bengals - This one's cheap because the game's already in the 4th quarter.

Second Round:
Packers over Giants - The only thing that would hurt the Packers is too much time off, but I've never bought that about professional teams.  Seriously, Rodgers is not hanging out at State Farm offices in the two week down time.
Saints over 49ers - The best game in this round.  The 'Niners still won't let up a rushing TD, but N.O. will win when the Saints pull an option play and Sproles throws a 98 yard pass......to himself.
Patriots over Broncos - May be the only time I will root for the Pats.  :(
Ravens over Texans - During his pre-game nonsense scream-a-thon, Ray Lewis's head explodes.  He still destroys Arian Foster in every single quarter.

Conference Champs:
Saints over Packers - Best game of the year.  The ground game and defense will give Saints the edge.  I will be rooting for both teams.
Patriots over Ravens - I will be rooting for neither team.

The NFL Bowl:
Saints over Patriots - I don't even think this will be close thanks to the Pats' pass defense issues.  But the commercials will be the big losers of the night when Gandhi hits Abe Lincoln in the crotch with a sledgehammer in the first Miller Douche ad.

Thems my picks.  Now, everyone rush off to Vegas to put your money on the 'Niners.

Thursday was L.A. Sports Day

Albert Pujols is taking his talents to Long Beach (adjacent).  As a Yankees fan, this provides no heartburn since the Yanks couldn't even beat the Angels before this.  As a baseball fan, I really dig this because now I can actually watch the sport's most exciting robot play every day!  If you don't think that he's a robot, I have a bridge I'd like to sell you.  He broke his forearm last year and was back in the lineup two weeks later as noticeably a better player.  I'm just going to repeat that.  He broke his forearm.  He healed in less than two weeks.  Then he was an even better player.  That's what the media will tell you at least.  He didn't heal at all.  They just replaced The Albot v4.1 with The Albot v4.2.  I'm interested in how the v5.0 model will perform.

DEAR GOD, HE'S MONSTROUS!

The contract is daft.  Not the $254M.  Compared to other salaries out there and his actual value, the yearly salary is reasonable.  What's cracked is that it was for 10 years.  My qualms have nothing to do with the unsubstantiated rumors that he's been lying about his age.  Future Pujols models will be unable to play the field, so he'll be restricted to DH within six years; maybe fewer if he can do what Jeter can't and surrender the glove before the fielding gets embarrassing.  So, for most of the contract they'll have a part-time player (which is what a DH is, value-wise).  Hasn't baseball seen this happen before.  You know, recently.  This year.  Alex Rodriguez, anyone?

The Angels also picked up CJ Wilson for five years, $77.5M.  Wilson has been a starter for two years and is already 31.  I'm just happy the Yankees didn't pick him up.  The Angels will have great starting staff with Weaver and Haren and Wilson.

But they'll also have a 2012 payroll of over $180 million.  That means that we'll see at least three teams (Sawx, Anaheim, and Phils) in the $160-$180M range next year.  Meanwhile, the Yankees' payroll in 2012 will be what it was SEVEN YEARS AGO.  So I guess there will be four evil empires now.

---

Tangent: Owner Jeffrey Loria busted out the once-a-decade Marlins Credit Card, signing Jose Reyes and Mark Bueller Buehrle to cushy multi-year deals.  This time he's gambling on a new stadium and swapping out the dreaded "Florida" for the less-dreaded "Miami" to bring in more fans.  Reyes is a great signing, as long as he's healthy.  We'll see if he brings in the local Dominican demographic that Loria desperately wants in his seats.  Buehrle, on the other hand, probably won't sell more tickets but should hang a couple more Ws up in the standings.  Still, these two guys aren't enough to take the NL East.  Even if Josh Johnson is healthy all year, they'll be lucky to tussle with Atlanta for the Wild Card.  And if DC's youth turn out to be half as good as the hype, the Marlins may not move anywhere in the standings.

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Tangent:  When I lumbered into the condo building's elevator this morning at 6:45am on the way to the gym, I was engulfed in the scents of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies AND brownies.  Then the doors closed and the elevator descended.  It was a pleasing experience.  As far as erotic sensory experiences go, it was a ★★★½.

---

Tangent: iTunes awarded Tiny Tower as the best game app of 2011.  I have Tiny Tower.  It requires no skill and has not a hint of complexity.  And I don't mean that in a Zen way.  I mean that in a "barely holds your attention while you sit on the toilet" way.  I should know.

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The Lakers gave up Pau Gasol and Lamar Odom for CHRIS PAUL.  He gets all caps because he is awesome.  And there are rumors floating, like oh so many methane-loaded turds, about an LA-Orlando trade based around Andrew Bynum and Dwight Howard.  If that goes through, the Lakers will run the table...... for the regular season.  And the playoffs.

They don't even need Howard.  Even with Bonehead Bynum playing occasionally, the CP-Kobe duo is monstrous.  It's perfect if you think about it.  Kobe wants the ball on every single play and CP is the best passer in the game.  As you can tell, my knowledge of on-court strategy is vast.  Vast.

"Esta bien."

This a reverse-Sheffield situation for me.  In 2004, I was a Yankee fan, but could not stand Gary Sheffield.  And then they signed him.  There was a lot nose pinching when he came to the plate in pinstripes.

[Wow, now I'm remembering that Yankee team.  By 2005 they'd picked up Sheffield, Randy Johnson, and Kevin Brown.  F***.  I guess I was just rooting for the uniform.]

Conversely, I'm not a Lakers fan (Go Clips!).  But I am a Chris Paul fan.  I wish the Clippers had traded for him, but they have no good pieces to deal--

BREAKING NEWS! (okay, it was breaking news when I started writing this last night)  The majority of NBA owners have blocked the trade.  Wow, what has happened to David Stern?  He's more like Daniel Stern now.

Here's the scoop: The Hornets are owned by the NBA, which means that each team owner has an equal share in the ownership.  This was supposed to allow the Hornets' general manager to deal openly with other teams, like any other GM.  But because this hurt some billionaires' feelings, as there was worry about the Lakers carrying an all-star team, they shotblocked this deal.  Stern clearly has no control over the owners and he handled the lockout like a fool.

And now a classic snippet from this morning's media blitz:

"I don't want to speak on the basketball side, but that particular one was weighed against Chris Paul's continued presence in New Orleans," Stern said in New York at the NBA's offices.  

NBA spokesman Tim Frank said Thursday the deal was blocked for "basketball reasons." The league owns the Hornets and is trying to sell the club.

So, um.  What?  Yes, let's not speak about the basketball side since you're the commissioner of Whack-A-Mole.  But then your spokesperson said that the deal was blocked due to the basketball side.

Well done.  Keep up the good work.  And to conclude, "Morons. I've got morons on my team."

Food & Sports

I have the crib to myself this week. Cooking for one is not much fun, though cooking for two is the thing to do.


I whipped up some really swell Mahi Mahi (the dolphin fish so nice, they had to name it twice) Tacos. They're so swell that if I can find someone else (Kristen) who will like them then I'll share the procedure.


Strange week in sports. Golf was exciting and basketball was bo-ring. I like to watch golf on TV, but I've noticed that if Tiger Woods isn't playing, my golf attention span drops from two hours to five minutes. As for the b-ball finals, our LA radio stations overhyped the matchup so much that I didn't even listen to it on the radio. If that doesn't sound extreme consider that I listened to parts of 40+ regular season Laker games and most of the playoff games. And I don't even like the Lakers. Traffic is Hell.

To me, though Tiger and Kobe are the best at their respective sports, I have different viewing relationships with them. Kobe is SportsCenter good. His skills are best viewed as a 30-60 second highlight reel on ESPN. But Tiger is a thrill to watch live. There's always the sense that something miraculous is going to happen at any moment. Example: Woods beating every single professional golfer at the US Open...while he had only one functioning leg. His playoff against Rocco was better than any sports movie, ever. Thank you USOpen.com for streaming that. Yet when Kobe dropped 81 points on Toronto, it made for a perfect SportsCenter segment. I could watch the highlights for a couple minutes and didn't feel like I missed a thing.

The Yankees won last night, but The Farns did his darnedest to prevent that from happening. I am rooting for Joba Chamberlain to make a successful transition to starter, but here's the problem......there's no Joba Chamberlain in the bullpen to save his arse once he throws too many pitches.


My favorite Yankee right now is The 'Stache. Not the guy wearing The 'Stache, but The 'Stache itself. It seems to have magic powers. With it, a seemingly washed up player suddenly plays like he's 10 years younger and on the juice. But 'Roids ain't got nothing on The 'Stache. Go The 'Stache Go! Put the team on your hairy shoulders and carry them through October! My second favorite Yankee remains Jorge Posada's Batting Without Batting Gloves. That's right. That is so manly that I will refrain from going into further description.


On a side note: Moises Alou versus David Ortiz.

For those who don't know, a couple years ago Moises Alou told an interviewer that he urinates on his hands (in the shower) to toughen them up for hitting barehanded during games. There was a large "Ewww Gross" backlash that followed against him and it's still a running joke. I think that's silly. Pee is largely bacteria-free and 90-95% water. What a guy does in his shower is his business, plus it's not like he was pissing on his hands in the on deck circle. Though that would be awesome if he did that once. Plus he's a great hitter when he isn't screwing up his legs. Maybe he should wee on his knee once in a while too.

Then there's David Ortiz. Largely regarded as an absolute saint, the man spits a loog on his batting gloves and rubs them together before every at bat. THAT is disgusting. He might as well just spit right on the dugout boy 5 times a game. And no high-fives. D.O. is that to help grip the bat better? Why don't you just blow a snot rocket into your spikes to help grip the dirt on your home run trots?

The New Rock Giant

The following is not based on any empirical nor scientific evidence but instead is backed by hubris and bluster:


Thanks to the speed of the news cycle as well as the overmarketing of assumed 'cool', our culture has a great deal of trouble permanently defining an active entertainment or art figure as a great, legend, or giant. We see a movie that we like, but then we watch it shoved down the populace's throat on the internet, TV, billboards, and trailers. It gets covered in People, Entertainment Weekly, and that annoying color section in the Sunday paper. We see this gorgeous girl in that movie and suddenly she's on the cover of InStyle, Cosmopolitan, Maxim, Esquire, and GQ. Then the movie winds up tanking at the box office or the director is revealed as a pedophilic shoplifter. The girl backs into a mailbox with her Mercedes and the cops find two guns and an eighth of blow in her glove box.


But I'd like to buck this trend. Not the cocaine in the glove box trend, but rather the slaying of giants. In my previous post, in my highly critical way, I billed Daniel Day-Lewis as a giant. And now I'm here announce another one.




Mr. Jack White.


I have always been a fan. The first four White Stripes albums have provided so much joy in my life as I sit through traffic, slog through work, run on the treadmill, and daydream on the weekend. After Elephant, I labelled him a Genius. Then the next two White Stripes albums were released and the first Raconteurs album came out. I still held him in the same high regard, knowing that there's no one else out there who wields a bluesy ax and cinematic songwriting skills like he. But nothing really blew my hair back.


Then The Raconteurs' Consolers of the Lonely was released in March. And I have changed my mind. The man is a giant, standing astride North America and Europe, rocking the Atlantic and, by proxy, the Pacific.


Yes, he has been dubbed brilliant by way too many rock writers and pundits. And he recently was on that dreadful Rolling Stone cover with the aged Jagger and Richards. But I don't care. He is not attractive yet he gets magazine covers. That is awesome. Can I get a "what-what!" from my fellow Homelies?

You see, after numerous failed “Would you like to make the sex with me?” advances on the ladies, some of us men realize that it would all be so much easier if we were hot. So some of us (Group 1) sharpen our drunken wit, cultural banter, and facial hair. Maybe use a little more soap under the pits. Others (Group 2) apparently grow blue eyes, wear tight pants on stage, and obtain music skills from the gods. Group 1 calls Group 2 jerks and thieves, unless of course Group 2 can rock. And then all is forgiven, until they start collecting our, er, Group 1’s girlfriends. Jerks.

Anyway, I am not one to listen to albums, new ones especially, more than once a day. Afraid of numbing myself to the brilliance, I limit the love. But I just can't help myself with this one. Consolers of the Lonely is the first album I've been excited about and listened to endlessly since American Idiot. Green Day are also giants, but that's for another blog and when I am more sober.

How did I know that it was love at first listen? Well, I knew that it was good when I found myself rocking out in my office, with the door open. And I wasn't even remotely self conscious. But when I was rocking out, I wasn't doing the air-guitar thing. Now that I've seen other people air-guitar, I've realized how stupid it looks. So instead of that, when I drop my pants and jump on my desk, I play the air-Jews'-Harp. That doesn't look stupid at all.


To sum up my thoughts about The White Stripes briefly. Brilliant. In more depth? I saw them at the El Rey in '02 and realized that I finally found a white guy who can cop blues tunes and not be boring or annoying, but rather add something to the blues tradition. His version of Son House's Death Letter Blues is powerful and exciting to behold. The White Stripes are just two, he and Meg White. On the drums, Meg frames his art. She makes him muscular. By being tiny, their sound is tremendous.






So when he started this Raconteurs group, I was not entirely comfortable with this shift away from minimalism. It's a whole band. With a co-writer, co-singer (Brendan Benson) too. But because Jack is a giant, it works.




Here he is with fiddles, organs, keyboards, horns, cowbell (or is that a spoon in an empty glass on that one song?), and backing vocals. And a bass guitar. Their first album is a whisper but this new album is a bellow. They conjure up the entirety of Classic Rock Past and do it better.






On a side note, since when is Ron Jeremy coaching the Orlando Magic? It's nice to see him get some work, though. Wow, this economy is weird.




So with Consolers of the Lonely I won't bore you with a review of every song. I'll just list the highlights.

Consoler of the Lonely - I kept hearing the last minute on the radio, 3 times in 3 days, and was like, “Will someone PLEASE tell me who this is?! When did 98.7 start playing classic rock?” The whole song is good but that last minute is one of my favorite rock minutes ever.

Hold Up - Remember how exciting it was to hear U2 actually rock out for 20 seconds on "All Because of You" (or maybe you don't because the other 3 minutes were poo)? Well the Racs actually sustain that very rock-out for an entire song.

Top Yourself – Should have been called “Tup Yourself”. Spellcheck seems not to know “Tup” but Iago of Othello-fame certainly does. Great relationship-breakup lyrics.

Many Shades of Black – They do an Aerosmith-type ballad BETTER than Aerosmith.

Rich Kid Blues – A real highlight. Why? Because it goes BIG. REALLY BIG. And check out the second verse when Jack shreds his voice to the point that he sounds a lot like the young Bono.

Carolina Drama – Reviewers have referred to this as Dylan-esque. Well. If every well written song gets referred to as “Dylan-esque” I’m fine with that. But this one does have structural hints of his Desire album with the swampy mood of Time Out of Mind. Aside from specifics, the intensity of the story makes my heart beat out of time even after a dozen listens.

All of the other tracks of high quality as well, especially the second single Solute Your Solution which sounds like White Stripes with a bass guitar. Now I do realize that Benson is part of this team and he does help bring a different angle to the songwriting. But the sound is all about Jack.

I promise I'll ponder Benson's influence a little more. But only if they release a third album.

This is NOT my quote

A quick note about the NCAA Championship game. Memphis head coach, John Calipari said the following on Jim Rome's radio show:

"You have a bucket of poop and a bucket of ice cream. You can put all the ice cream you want into the bucket of poop and it is still a bucket of poop. But if you put a scoop of poop in a bucket of ice cream, it's now a bucket of poop. So don't be the poop in our ice cream, my friend."

Did a grown man, who is not me, actually come up with that metaphor and say it on the air? Does that motivate people?

Well, apparently his team couldn't hit a bucket of poop from the freethrow line and thus lost the game. Congrats, Coach. That's what you get for screwing up my bracket and publicizing that crappy analogy.

Though the goal of this blog is to be a wit machine. I'm leading with the events that originally inspired me to start bloggin'. I promise to follow up with something lighter...


7/30/2007

In the span of 24 hours Ingmar Bergman, Michelangelo Antonioni, Bill Walsh, and Tom Snyder left this life. If one is a particularly spiritual person, how does that sit? These four were taken away, but gems like this fellow remain. I can’t imagine that bodes well for those of us still living, if you believe there are reasons for these sorts of things. To me they were people to whom I've associated images from memories and moments.

I can’t say that I’m Bergman freak. Viewing his films proves difficult for me. Nine years ago, I thought I’d start somewhere near the beginning and end of his career and work my way to the middle.

Smiles of a Summer Night was interesting, but I found it much too unhappy (and not funny enough) to be called a “comedy” as it often is. With this distance now, I see it as a comedy in the more old fashioned, almost Shakespearean sense – a comedy of errors, and scheming, between the sexes. Though, I think, Rules of the Game annihilates it (and every other such comedy, past or present), it wasn’t bad and it was surprisingly sexy. There’s a particular undressing sequence that remains in memory.

From there I rented Fanny and Alexander. Thought I was starting with the easy stuff, the lighter things. And perhaps I was. But I only got about one hour into F&A when I had to shut it off, gripped by my first taste of full blown adult melancholy. And it didn’t go away, for 48 hours. This I cannot explain. But I can remember it, like a flavor. Once our California move is complete I’ll rent the Criterion Collection version of F&A and try it again. That melancholy has since become rather familiar to me, so I have no fear of that movie anymore. But it did take 7 years before I watched another Bergman film.

Persona proved perversely pleasurable. I finally couldn’t resist those two lovely Nordic blondes on the poster/DVD cover. And I’m a big fan of duality stories. The avant-garde freakout in the beginning of the movie is spectacular. I don’t gasp often, but I think I gasped at the beginning of the sequence, the middle (is that a flash frame of a big erection in a 1966 film?), and the end…when the story actually begins. Then later the film literally (actual definition of the word literally) melts down, then it propels back to the story which itself seems to have been pushed into a different dimension. And I was riveted by the xtended erotic monologue, which kept going and going and pushing cinema into a more mature place from which it could never return. So, yes, I’m a fan of that one.

Antonioni has proven more elusive to me. L’Aventtura is lovely, in a depressed empty-soul sort of way. The cinematography is fantastic. The acting, in Italian terms, restrained and subtle. And the mice-en-scene does all of the storytelling. It’s a very visual film. Very quiet. Barren of people. From what I can tell, this is a theme that Michelangelo A. returns to in most of his films. I’d describe Red Desert, but it would be in almost the same terms as L’Aventtura. The main differences are that Desert is in color and wide-screen, 1.85:1. The color (per the title) is actually the most memorable part of the film. And Monica Vitta is easy on the eyes. I saw the film (on film, not video) during film school. I remember the movie to be almost hypnotic in its rhythms, or maybe I was hungover at the time and just fell asleep. More to the point, Antonioni created visual stories of emptiness, loss, and wandering better than anyone else – though many have tried. A completely separate memory of Antonioni: Syd Field used to hang out with him, called him Il Maestro. Would have loved to have been there for those conversations.

Bill Walsh, Mr. West-Coast-Offense-that-later-became-the-offense-every-NFL-team-used Guy. His name is like a radio ad jingle from my pre-pubescent years. I don’t know much about him personally, aside from the fact that he was one of the first true intellectual coaches, too bad he used it to help the 49ers rather than say, the Jets. It’s safe to say that he changed coaching and strategy in this country’s leading sport mostly on his own, and then lost the battle with leukemia…

…as did Tom Snyder. Tom was a full generation ahead of his time. His informal, but directly challenging approach to televised interviews brought more artists and fringe figures than any other journalist at the time. He interviewed Kiss, Ayn Rand, and Johnny Rotten when the networks were searching out British royalty. He gave the final John Lennon interview. Like Mr. Walsh he’s also a distant memory figure from my childhood, as my parents used to watch him on ABC and (the young) CNBC in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s. I remember him to be much more fun than Larry King (whom we also watched, unfortunately). I remember his habit of talking to his off-camera crew, which was both funny and engaging since no one else did that back then. And I like his opening line from his Tomorrow show, "Fire up a colortini, sit back, relax, and watch the pictures, now, as they fly through the air."

New artists, journalists, and sports leaders will ascend, establish their imprint in our consciousness, and later fade away. But no one replaces Bergman, Antonioni, Walsh, and Snyder. For all of us, July 29th was a better day than the next because these four men were alive. But for them, all in pain, July 29th was not a better day. The next day was the better day. And somehow, some of us will have to learn that the next day will be a better day as well.