Kidney beans? Check. A kidney-shaped pool? Ok. Kidney stones? Bad idea. Very bad idea.
Want to know why I think that they're a bad idea? Because I passed one on Saturday night. And it hurt. A lot. I am talking major league pain here. When my buddy Nick got one about a month or so ago, I thought it was sort of humorous (BTW, when I told him about mine he laughed his ass off too) because I thought it was something only old people get or dudes who were wound up way too tight.
Apparently all sorts of people get them. Saturday was supposed to be a kick-ass day, Aly was hanging with her friends and I was going out with Ryan, Tim and Andrew to meet a bunch of SoSHers. Every year a group of people get together, toss a few back and go to a Sox game. I was there to toss a few back and maybe find my way into the Red Sox game.
Around 2:30 it was time to take a shower, but first I had to take a leak. It was bloody. This has always been one of my great fears and I was sort of interested in what my reaction was going to be should the day ever occur. I pretty much was shocked and said, "This doesn't look quite right."
I told Aly and then waited until the next time I had to pee before I called the doctor. Next time I went, it was there again. So off to the telephone I went. The doctor was at a pool party and said that if I do it again, to get up to Anna Jacques and give them a urine sample. Of course, it happened again, so we went to Newburyport.
Good bye SoSH, good bye Aly's friends, good bye drinking. When we got there, Aly and I pretty much figured that I had a urine infection and that was that. I peed in the cup and went to visit my folks. We had a little dinner on the deck and after that I started to get a really searing pain in my right side.
My parents and Aly thought that I was dying or something, so we got into the car and went back to the hospital. Normally, it takes maybe 10 minutes to get to Anna Jacques from my parents' place, but it seemed like it took six hours. When we finally got there they hustled me into the emergency room where I was convulsing a bit and alternating between the sweats and freezing my ass off.
They got me hooked up to an IV where they gave me some fluids and pain killers. I started to feel much better after that. And then it was pretty much over. I sat in the bed for about three hours; got blood taken from me, spoke with a doctor and that was pretty much it.
I apparently passed the stone on the deck because passing the stone doesn't mean passing it out of your body. It means going from your kidney to your bladder. That's where it hurts the most. The doctor told me to call a urologist on Monday and then he sent me home.
Aly and I stayed at my parents' for the night and we were out of there around noon on Sunday. Aside from a bottle of percocets, none of which I've taken, not much has changed. Today, I took Aly to work and when I came home I called the urologist to make an appointment. I mistakenly thought that a passed stone would bump me to the head of the line, but you have to be dying to see this guy.
His office told me I couldn't see him until August 10. That rots because while I'm not in intense pain or anything, my side is a little sore and I wouldn't be surprised if I passed another stone. So, I've been sitting around the house all day bored out of my cotton-picking mind.
I finished my homework. I paid some bills. I watched TV. I read the paper. I tried to nap. I found the last hotel for our honeymoon. I'm writing this Blog and after this I'm going to upload my strip for tomorrow. I never thought that I'd say this, but I'm fucking bored of being at home. Work can't come soon enough.
As bad as my Saturday was, it can't compare to my uncle's Sunday. Last night, my aunt Rita died. She was the last of the old school Pettorutos and will be missed. She hasn't been doing well for a long time (at least 10 years) and it was always sort of a running conversation whether she'd make it to the next big holiday. But every year she was there at our house or Uncle Bud's.
By the end of her time, she really didn't know what was going on and had sunk into a pretty deep state of dementia. I heard from my mom, that she was talking to people who have been dead for decades and it wasn't a pretty site. This, of course, is a huge shame as not only was she the matriach of my family, but she was a leading business woman in the Lawrence for many years.
Rita stood by my uncle Al (her brother) when he ran and ultimately won a state rep's seat and she really put her parents' store on the map with a lot of broad ideas that were considered revolutionary in her day. She always had time for Jason and I and I'm going to miss her very much. But, to be honest with you, even though she physically left us yesterday, she had been gone for a long time.
Monday, August 01, 2005
Tuesday, July 26, 2005
MTV and the Renaissance?
There are a few words that you never expect to see side-by-side in the English language: funny and Jimmy Fallon, tasteful and Gene Simmons and the renaissance and MTV. In this new comic strip, I was trying to show that the more things change, the more they stay the same ... or something like that.
If you are completely clueless to what I'm talking about, boogie on over to www.room19comics.com. It's the site that a handful of people are talking about.
In any event, this is the comic strip that I wrote about it Friday's Blog. A quick aside, this is a Blog that I wrote at work and was not able to post (read: I was too tired and/or forgetful to post on Friday night) on the comic strip page. So, if you haven't seen it, it's new to you. (BTW, that was a terrible catch phrase that NBC used a few years ago to hype the summer reruns.)
This is the strip, after a few weeks of four panels, I dropped back down to three. Basically this was the first half of my last semester at Merrimack. I need a few more classes to get my minor in visual arts and one was Art II with Professor Longwood. She was a ball breaker. For an hour and a half every class you'd see nothing but slides. This would go on for six weeks. Each test was five slides and we had to tell the name of the painting, who painted it, when they painted it and an explanation of the painting.
Things weren't so bad until you hit the Renaissance. It seemed like everyone and their brother was painting the Madonna and child. There had to be about 30 paintings of this subject, all in similar positions. It was torture going through and differentiating which was which.
That is the situation that our hero Eddie finds himself in. I think that the first panel came out ok. He's sitting at his desk, there are a ton of books around, he's studying hard. Eagle-eye watchers of Room 19 will notice that this is also the first time that the other side of Eddie's face is shown. Normally it looks like it does in the third panel, but I wanted to show some depth.
The second panel sucks. It has a ton of wasted space. While there are just as much art in the second as the first, there is a ton of text which a. sets up the joke and b. shows the gravity of his studies. In the second panel, there is an interesting shot of Ed rubbing his eyes, but nothing else. I wasted about a third of a panel. Not good.
The third panel delivers with the punch line. Not very joke-y per se, but it's more of how no matter how you try to get away from something, it's probably going to find you somewhere. Believe it or not, that stupid TV stand took me a long-ass time to draw. I really wanted to get the perspective correct.
BTW, there were two loose ends I had to tie up from the last entry. One, Alex Cora ended up hitting into a 6-2-3 double play (about the only way that the Sox couldn't have scored a run) and I got to meet Sam Horn last Sunday. I think I told you about SoSH having a get-together that day, well I went and I won a t-shirt. Big Sam was there and I was asked if I wanted it autographed.
I really didn't, but I didn't want to hurt the dude's feelings. It's not that I thought he sucked or anything, far from it -- when I was a kid I thought he was going to be the next big thing, I just liked the shirt too much for it to be written on. I told him he could and now I have a big "SAM HORN" on my new white shirt. Ah well, such is life.
The funny thing about Sam is that he's a huge dude and he has a pretty big appetite. When I saw him he was sitting in front of a pile of buffalo wing bones. There had to be about 40 of them on the plate. Good for you, Horny.
If you are completely clueless to what I'm talking about, boogie on over to www.room19comics.com. It's the site that a handful of people are talking about.
In any event, this is the comic strip that I wrote about it Friday's Blog. A quick aside, this is a Blog that I wrote at work and was not able to post (read: I was too tired and/or forgetful to post on Friday night) on the comic strip page. So, if you haven't seen it, it's new to you. (BTW, that was a terrible catch phrase that NBC used a few years ago to hype the summer reruns.)
This is the strip, after a few weeks of four panels, I dropped back down to three. Basically this was the first half of my last semester at Merrimack. I need a few more classes to get my minor in visual arts and one was Art II with Professor Longwood. She was a ball breaker. For an hour and a half every class you'd see nothing but slides. This would go on for six weeks. Each test was five slides and we had to tell the name of the painting, who painted it, when they painted it and an explanation of the painting.
Things weren't so bad until you hit the Renaissance. It seemed like everyone and their brother was painting the Madonna and child. There had to be about 30 paintings of this subject, all in similar positions. It was torture going through and differentiating which was which.
That is the situation that our hero Eddie finds himself in. I think that the first panel came out ok. He's sitting at his desk, there are a ton of books around, he's studying hard. Eagle-eye watchers of Room 19 will notice that this is also the first time that the other side of Eddie's face is shown. Normally it looks like it does in the third panel, but I wanted to show some depth.
The second panel sucks. It has a ton of wasted space. While there are just as much art in the second as the first, there is a ton of text which a. sets up the joke and b. shows the gravity of his studies. In the second panel, there is an interesting shot of Ed rubbing his eyes, but nothing else. I wasted about a third of a panel. Not good.
The third panel delivers with the punch line. Not very joke-y per se, but it's more of how no matter how you try to get away from something, it's probably going to find you somewhere. Believe it or not, that stupid TV stand took me a long-ass time to draw. I really wanted to get the perspective correct.
BTW, there were two loose ends I had to tie up from the last entry. One, Alex Cora ended up hitting into a 6-2-3 double play (about the only way that the Sox couldn't have scored a run) and I got to meet Sam Horn last Sunday. I think I told you about SoSH having a get-together that day, well I went and I won a t-shirt. Big Sam was there and I was asked if I wanted it autographed.
I really didn't, but I didn't want to hurt the dude's feelings. It's not that I thought he sucked or anything, far from it -- when I was a kid I thought he was going to be the next big thing, I just liked the shirt too much for it to be written on. I told him he could and now I have a big "SAM HORN" on my new white shirt. Ah well, such is life.
The funny thing about Sam is that he's a huge dude and he has a pretty big appetite. When I saw him he was sitting in front of a pile of buffalo wing bones. There had to be about 40 of them on the plate. Good for you, Horny.
Friday, July 22, 2005
Looking at some movies and a crappy week
Here's the deal with the Blog, I'm not updating it as much as I should. I know what you're thinking, "How can I live without my 19Thoughts? I shall surely die of ignorance." All I can say to you, is, "Can it Mr. Sarcasm." This truly has been a very trying week and I'm lucky that I can write this one.
How trying, let me tell you on Saturday we finished up the wedding hall crap with my parents and Aly's parents. After a two-hour meeting with the Longwood manager, I felt like I had gone 12 rounds with Tyson. I was tired, confused and in need of booze.
Sunday, I tried something new, I thought it would be a good idea to watch the Sox play the Yanks and draw at the same time. Needless to say I was pissed off squared. It took me a long ass time to do my strip, when it shouldn't have and the Sox lost with some dumb-assed managing in the ninth. Francona left Alex Cora in to bat against Mariano Rivera with no outs, bases loaded and the Sox down by two because, are you ready for this, he "wanted to see Cora hit."
What the fuck? Are you serious? Take him to Route 1 in Saugus and give him a couple of quarters for the batting cage. After that you can play mini golf and eat ice cream. John Olerud is on your bench for a reason. This is officially my first "WTF is Tito thinking of?" moment of the year.
Oh yeah, our limo guy calls out of no where and reverses his prices on us. Thanks dick at Boston Limo. You can suck it.
Monday, I came into work and the air conditioner over my head is leaking. It started on Saturday and hadn't stopped. Thus everything at my desk is completely wet. After lunch another leak opens up over my head. I try to work with an umbrella over my desk but no luck.
At night, I try to scan in my new strip (not the crappily drawn one) and I have a complete brain fart about how to size it. It takes me an hour and a half and it's all fucked up.
Tuesday I come into work and there are now three leaks and everything is wet. I offer to go home, but I am moved to a new cube. It also smells like someone took a gigantic piss in the middle of my cube. After work is school. I started a new class in Illustrator, which looks like it's going to be pretty fun.
Except I don't think my teacher realizes that we all have work and other shit to do as he assigns us, six hours (yes SIX) of making belizer (spelling?) curves, read and complete Chapter 4 and begin our project. Guess what I'm doing on Sunday.
When I get home I finally figure out how shrink down my strip (took me 15 minutes) and reload the page. While there is a technical glitch or two, I am in bed by midnight after seeing a mouse run by me in our living room. Fucking sweet.
Wednesday, it's still hot as balls out, did I tell you it's been 90 degrees every day with like 98% humidity? If all of these little things didn't conspire to stress me out, the heat certainly pushed me over the edge. Aly and I get into an argument, I got to bed at 12:30 and wake up at 4:30, because I can't put this kind of shit to bed. I obsess and toss and turn. This is one of the reasons why I hate fighting.
The other is because I'm so fucking stupid and competitive, I always go for the throat. I'm not a good fighter because a lot of the times, I'm just a dick. In any event, Aly and I make up Thursday morning and things are looking better. Aside from some minor work things, Friday hasn't been too bad.
This past weekend, I ended up seeing two movies. Saturday, Jamie and I went to see "The Fantastic Four". I've already admitted to you guys that I'm a comic geek at heart. I love the stuff, even though I tell most people that I don't. Spider-man, X-Men, Batman, it's all good. Some of the most fun I've had in a theatre in the last three years.
While FF doesn't exactly live up to those three, it's a pretty good movie. Some of the origins are changed (like Dr. Doom and the FF were colleagues who were both in the spaceship) but it did a decent job in keeping with the mythology. A lot of people crabbed about the special effects, but I thought they were good as well.
One reviewer from the Globe said that this movie should've been more "erotic" I have zero clue what the hell he meant. I guess it would've been funny to see Mr. Fantastic take a piss from a different room, but that's sort of gay isn't it? In any event, I bet they have a sequel since it opened up well ($56 million in the first weekend).
The second flick I saw was "Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith". Awesome. Very, very good. Yes, it's a cliche to say that the first two were stupid and while I won't go that far, they were a bit of a disappointment. This movie did not disappoint.
A wookie army, a bunch of lightsabre fights, dead Jedis all over the place, definitely a fine film. There were a lot of things that I liked, such as when Ben delivered Luke to Uncle Owen and Aunt Baru and Owen is looking at the two suns. Shot for shot, that was like the introduction to Luke Skywalker in the Episode IV.
Also, it was cool to see that Yoda and Chewbacca were buddies from way back. I always thought that it was dumb luck that Chewy and Han got together to fight the Empire. Now I can reasonably say that Chewy was the brains of that duo. He probably made Han go to Tatoine and find Obi Wan and then forced him to go back to knock Vader's ass off of Luke's tail so he could blow up the Death Star.
I really want to get the six-DVD set when it comes out and just watch it straight through. The one thing I'll say is that when I was a kid, I always assumed that the Star Wars trilogy was always going to be about Luke and how he went from a pussy farm boy to a pussy Jedi. Now I know, it was really a story about Darth Vader.
If you think about it, that's quite a 180. It's like finding out the Superman story was about Lex Luthor or Spider-Man was about the Green Goblin.
How trying, let me tell you on Saturday we finished up the wedding hall crap with my parents and Aly's parents. After a two-hour meeting with the Longwood manager, I felt like I had gone 12 rounds with Tyson. I was tired, confused and in need of booze.
Sunday, I tried something new, I thought it would be a good idea to watch the Sox play the Yanks and draw at the same time. Needless to say I was pissed off squared. It took me a long ass time to do my strip, when it shouldn't have and the Sox lost with some dumb-assed managing in the ninth. Francona left Alex Cora in to bat against Mariano Rivera with no outs, bases loaded and the Sox down by two because, are you ready for this, he "wanted to see Cora hit."
What the fuck? Are you serious? Take him to Route 1 in Saugus and give him a couple of quarters for the batting cage. After that you can play mini golf and eat ice cream. John Olerud is on your bench for a reason. This is officially my first "WTF is Tito thinking of?" moment of the year.
Oh yeah, our limo guy calls out of no where and reverses his prices on us. Thanks dick at Boston Limo. You can suck it.
Monday, I came into work and the air conditioner over my head is leaking. It started on Saturday and hadn't stopped. Thus everything at my desk is completely wet. After lunch another leak opens up over my head. I try to work with an umbrella over my desk but no luck.
At night, I try to scan in my new strip (not the crappily drawn one) and I have a complete brain fart about how to size it. It takes me an hour and a half and it's all fucked up.
Tuesday I come into work and there are now three leaks and everything is wet. I offer to go home, but I am moved to a new cube. It also smells like someone took a gigantic piss in the middle of my cube. After work is school. I started a new class in Illustrator, which looks like it's going to be pretty fun.
Except I don't think my teacher realizes that we all have work and other shit to do as he assigns us, six hours (yes SIX) of making belizer (spelling?) curves, read and complete Chapter 4 and begin our project. Guess what I'm doing on Sunday.
When I get home I finally figure out how shrink down my strip (took me 15 minutes) and reload the page. While there is a technical glitch or two, I am in bed by midnight after seeing a mouse run by me in our living room. Fucking sweet.
Wednesday, it's still hot as balls out, did I tell you it's been 90 degrees every day with like 98% humidity? If all of these little things didn't conspire to stress me out, the heat certainly pushed me over the edge. Aly and I get into an argument, I got to bed at 12:30 and wake up at 4:30, because I can't put this kind of shit to bed. I obsess and toss and turn. This is one of the reasons why I hate fighting.
The other is because I'm so fucking stupid and competitive, I always go for the throat. I'm not a good fighter because a lot of the times, I'm just a dick. In any event, Aly and I make up Thursday morning and things are looking better. Aside from some minor work things, Friday hasn't been too bad.
This past weekend, I ended up seeing two movies. Saturday, Jamie and I went to see "The Fantastic Four". I've already admitted to you guys that I'm a comic geek at heart. I love the stuff, even though I tell most people that I don't. Spider-man, X-Men, Batman, it's all good. Some of the most fun I've had in a theatre in the last three years.
While FF doesn't exactly live up to those three, it's a pretty good movie. Some of the origins are changed (like Dr. Doom and the FF were colleagues who were both in the spaceship) but it did a decent job in keeping with the mythology. A lot of people crabbed about the special effects, but I thought they were good as well.
One reviewer from the Globe said that this movie should've been more "erotic" I have zero clue what the hell he meant. I guess it would've been funny to see Mr. Fantastic take a piss from a different room, but that's sort of gay isn't it? In any event, I bet they have a sequel since it opened up well ($56 million in the first weekend).
The second flick I saw was "Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith". Awesome. Very, very good. Yes, it's a cliche to say that the first two were stupid and while I won't go that far, they were a bit of a disappointment. This movie did not disappoint.
A wookie army, a bunch of lightsabre fights, dead Jedis all over the place, definitely a fine film. There were a lot of things that I liked, such as when Ben delivered Luke to Uncle Owen and Aunt Baru and Owen is looking at the two suns. Shot for shot, that was like the introduction to Luke Skywalker in the Episode IV.
Also, it was cool to see that Yoda and Chewbacca were buddies from way back. I always thought that it was dumb luck that Chewy and Han got together to fight the Empire. Now I can reasonably say that Chewy was the brains of that duo. He probably made Han go to Tatoine and find Obi Wan and then forced him to go back to knock Vader's ass off of Luke's tail so he could blow up the Death Star.
I really want to get the six-DVD set when it comes out and just watch it straight through. The one thing I'll say is that when I was a kid, I always assumed that the Star Wars trilogy was always going to be about Luke and how he went from a pussy farm boy to a pussy Jedi. Now I know, it was really a story about Darth Vader.
If you think about it, that's quite a 180. It's like finding out the Superman story was about Lex Luthor or Spider-Man was about the Green Goblin.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
The Best ... So Far
This might be a quick entry because it's late and I'm hungry. This comic that you see before you is my favorite one I've done so far. I know I sound like I'm being arrogant, but I'm not, I just really was inspired to write and draw this one.
And for those of you who don't know, go to the July 4th entry in this Blog to find out the real story. This, and this is actually the first time I've ever got to say this, is based on a true event. Just goes to show that inspiration can strike anywhere, even on a T subway.
And for those of you on my Blog who don't know what the hell I'm talking about, go to www.Room19comics.com
There are a few things that I really like about this strip and a couple things I don't. Let's start with the things I dig. In the first panel, I like the woman bumping into each other and I like how Eddie has eyes closed and is just spacing out while listening to his tunes. You can sort of tell that something is about to happen.
BTW, all three of these dudes have on shirts that I actually own. The guy in the 24 shirt (a shout out to my favorite drama) was supposed to be black, but the shading didn't come out correctly ... thank God for Photoshop.
The second panel was an experiment. I wanted to see if I could do something a bit different, but I wanted to get my point across at how bitchy this lady was. I think I did a pretty good job in that. The one part of this panel that I'm a bit discouraged with is the eye balls ... she looks like the Ghost Rider or something.
BTW, this is what the Ghost Rider looks like:
Her eyes are just too damn dark. I guess that's one of the hazards of doing a strip in black and white. There aren't many shades of gray.
I really like the third panel because the expression of Eddie's face and the gigantic question mark popping out of the panel. This is the first strip I've done where he was the straight man and said nothing. Usually Kurt supplies that role, but I think that Eddie did a good job with it.
The one thing I don't like about this panel is the back of the woman's body. Her hair is sort of messed up and I think that I made her too fat.
The fourth panel is ok, stylistically it's sort of flat compared to the other three, but in a way, I think that it works. I really wanted her to stand out to the reader with her missive about people not being polite. To make it a bit more powerful, I decided not to have anything in the background. Does it work? I'm not 100% sure, I'll leave that to you to decide.
BTW, this is the first time that I've drawn a woman in my strip. To be honest, I have a lot of trouble drawing the female form, but this one was pretty easy, because she was so dang lumpy. Nothing like a woman who looks like walking mashed potatoes.
Speaking of potatoes, I'm getting something to eat.
And for those of you who don't know, go to the July 4th entry in this Blog to find out the real story. This, and this is actually the first time I've ever got to say this, is based on a true event. Just goes to show that inspiration can strike anywhere, even on a T subway.
And for those of you on my Blog who don't know what the hell I'm talking about, go to www.Room19comics.com
There are a few things that I really like about this strip and a couple things I don't. Let's start with the things I dig. In the first panel, I like the woman bumping into each other and I like how Eddie has eyes closed and is just spacing out while listening to his tunes. You can sort of tell that something is about to happen.
BTW, all three of these dudes have on shirts that I actually own. The guy in the 24 shirt (a shout out to my favorite drama) was supposed to be black, but the shading didn't come out correctly ... thank God for Photoshop.
The second panel was an experiment. I wanted to see if I could do something a bit different, but I wanted to get my point across at how bitchy this lady was. I think I did a pretty good job in that. The one part of this panel that I'm a bit discouraged with is the eye balls ... she looks like the Ghost Rider or something.
BTW, this is what the Ghost Rider looks like:
Her eyes are just too damn dark. I guess that's one of the hazards of doing a strip in black and white. There aren't many shades of gray.I really like the third panel because the expression of Eddie's face and the gigantic question mark popping out of the panel. This is the first strip I've done where he was the straight man and said nothing. Usually Kurt supplies that role, but I think that Eddie did a good job with it.
The one thing I don't like about this panel is the back of the woman's body. Her hair is sort of messed up and I think that I made her too fat.
The fourth panel is ok, stylistically it's sort of flat compared to the other three, but in a way, I think that it works. I really wanted her to stand out to the reader with her missive about people not being polite. To make it a bit more powerful, I decided not to have anything in the background. Does it work? I'm not 100% sure, I'll leave that to you to decide.
BTW, this is the first time that I've drawn a woman in my strip. To be honest, I have a lot of trouble drawing the female form, but this one was pretty easy, because she was so dang lumpy. Nothing like a woman who looks like walking mashed potatoes.
Speaking of potatoes, I'm getting something to eat.
Sunday, July 17, 2005
Reviews from everywhere
I gots movie reviews, book reviews and the review of an up and down first half for the 2004 World Series Boston Red Sox.
Let's start with the Sox first, because I'm almost a week late with it. The Sox finished the first half with a 49-38 record, which was one game better than last year. The did this without Curt Schilling (he pitched three games, and did so poorly because of an injury), one of the worst bullpen in the majors and not a lot of production from their second baseman.
The fact that they are in first place by a game is a minor miracle, which leads to the question: are the Red Sox overachieving or is the rest of the division underachieving? The rest of the American League East all have questions, the Orioles have no starters (unless they play the Sox), the Yanks have a crappy outfield defense and no pitching, the Blue Jays are the Hartford Whalers of the AL (forever mediocre) and the Devil Rays are the Devil Rays.
Are the Sox merely the cream of the crap or do they have a legit shot at winning the Series again? Since it's only July 17, it's hard to tell, but they need one thing in order to make me feel better about their chances: a bullpen. With Foulke out until mid-August after getting surgery on his knee (which supposedly has bothered him since he was a White Sox), the rest of the pen has to step it up a bit. Just about everyone has spit the bit. Embree has been horrible, Halama pitches well once a week and Mantei was a disaster (and is out for the year). The only two guys that manager Terry Francona has any confidence in is the two Mikes: Myers and Timlin.
Myers is a situational lefty who can't go more than an inning and while the numbers suggest that Timlin is having a solid year, it may be a mirage as he is allowing a lot of inherited runners to score. From the evidence, it seems that he is a guy that can not come into innings any more, as his ERA is microscopic when he starts one.
If the bullpen is that bad, than the offense is the good. Actually strike that last sentence, the offense is great. Forget Foxx and Williams; Yaz and Harrelson; Rice and Lynn and Cooper and Plantier (the last one is much easier to forget), Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz could be the greatest one-two punch that the Red Sox have ever had.
Manny started off the year slow and the media mavens were saying that he didn't care anymore and that he was "obviously distracted". I wish I could be so distracted at my job. He posted .275/.365/.557 with 23 dingers and 83 runs batted in. Ortiz has slumped for about a week, if you could call it that, and has .308/.388/.584 with 23 homers and 82 RBIs. These are incredible numbers that most people would be pumped to have for the season. There is still about 75 games left to play, it's astounding to think of what they can do.
And as good as the 3-4 punch has been, Johnny Damon has been just as tremendous. He's in the midst of a 28-game hitting streak and an argument can be made that he is the MVP of the American League, especially when you factor his defense into the equation. Jason Varitek, Trot Nixon and Bill Mueller have proven that they're worth their contracts with numbers that are close (if not better) than their career averages.
Nixon, in particular, has started to show Francona that he has shaken the boondoggle of lefties, as he's hitting .270 against them. Not bad numbers for a guy who couldn't touch southpaws in his previous ten years.
All of these offensive fireworks have been more impressive considering that their big offseason signing, Edgar Renteria, has looked as if he has not been comfortable since day one. I know nothing about the guy, so I won't speculate on the reasons for his struggles both at the plate and, most surprisingly, in the field, but I have to think it takes a while to get used to coming from over from the National League. I expect him to heat up in the second half the more acclimated he becomes to his surroundings.
The less said about Kevin Millar the better.
Led by Matt Clement, the starters have been ok. David Wells has been inconsistent, Tim Wakefield has been Tim Wakefield, there are some days when Bronson Arroyo looks like a world beater and other days where it seems he'd rather be at the Paradise rock club strumming his guitar. As an owner of Wade Miller in a fantasy league, he's been driving me crazy, but as a fifth starter, he's been ok.
The main thing that the Sox have to do is get Curt Schilling back to his workhorse form and leading this rotation. Even over finding bullpen arms, this is the most important issue facing the team in the upcoming months. If they can do this and get Keith Foulke back into the groove, the Sox will be the team to beat in the American League.
If not, then it looks like a long summer.
I finished this book, or at least a major part of it, earlier this week:
This collection had most of his writings and the one that I chose was his seminal "Thus Spoke Zarathusra".
First a little background on why I chose this: I've already told you about the dude I used to work with who turned me on to the ideas of Nietszche, when I finally got into college I wanted to learn all that I could about the German philosopher, so I took an 19th Century German Philosophy class with my buddy Archie. I was way over my head in this class, I was the only person who wasn't a philosophy major and I wasn't used to the writing.
Needless to say Hegel, Kierkegaard and Schopenhaur read like they were written in Chinese. The one thing that kept me in the class is the syllabus said that we were going over Nietzsche, but we never did. Because of his countrymen, it spooked me from reading "TSZ" because I thought that I'd never understand it.
Turns out I had completely psyched myself out, for while it wasn't "Nails" by Lenny Dykstra, it wasn't as incomprehensible as I originally thought. Sure, there were some rough spots and some contexts that I probably glazed over, but for the most part the message came through loud and clear.
While I am glad that I read it, I don't think that you can give this book a grade per se, I am more glad that I conquered this mountain myself.
I'm going to the movies in about 20 minutes, so I am going to wait until later in the week to review "The Fantastic Four" (which I saw yesterday) and the new "Star Wars" (which I am going to finally see soon).
Don't forget Wednesday, a new strip ... and if I may be so bold, it's the best one (art wise) that I've done so far.
Let's start with the Sox first, because I'm almost a week late with it. The Sox finished the first half with a 49-38 record, which was one game better than last year. The did this without Curt Schilling (he pitched three games, and did so poorly because of an injury), one of the worst bullpen in the majors and not a lot of production from their second baseman.
The fact that they are in first place by a game is a minor miracle, which leads to the question: are the Red Sox overachieving or is the rest of the division underachieving? The rest of the American League East all have questions, the Orioles have no starters (unless they play the Sox), the Yanks have a crappy outfield defense and no pitching, the Blue Jays are the Hartford Whalers of the AL (forever mediocre) and the Devil Rays are the Devil Rays.
Are the Sox merely the cream of the crap or do they have a legit shot at winning the Series again? Since it's only July 17, it's hard to tell, but they need one thing in order to make me feel better about their chances: a bullpen. With Foulke out until mid-August after getting surgery on his knee (which supposedly has bothered him since he was a White Sox), the rest of the pen has to step it up a bit. Just about everyone has spit the bit. Embree has been horrible, Halama pitches well once a week and Mantei was a disaster (and is out for the year). The only two guys that manager Terry Francona has any confidence in is the two Mikes: Myers and Timlin.
Myers is a situational lefty who can't go more than an inning and while the numbers suggest that Timlin is having a solid year, it may be a mirage as he is allowing a lot of inherited runners to score. From the evidence, it seems that he is a guy that can not come into innings any more, as his ERA is microscopic when he starts one.
If the bullpen is that bad, than the offense is the good. Actually strike that last sentence, the offense is great. Forget Foxx and Williams; Yaz and Harrelson; Rice and Lynn and Cooper and Plantier (the last one is much easier to forget), Manny Ramirez and David Ortiz could be the greatest one-two punch that the Red Sox have ever had.
Manny started off the year slow and the media mavens were saying that he didn't care anymore and that he was "obviously distracted". I wish I could be so distracted at my job. He posted .275/.365/.557 with 23 dingers and 83 runs batted in. Ortiz has slumped for about a week, if you could call it that, and has .308/.388/.584 with 23 homers and 82 RBIs. These are incredible numbers that most people would be pumped to have for the season. There is still about 75 games left to play, it's astounding to think of what they can do.
And as good as the 3-4 punch has been, Johnny Damon has been just as tremendous. He's in the midst of a 28-game hitting streak and an argument can be made that he is the MVP of the American League, especially when you factor his defense into the equation. Jason Varitek, Trot Nixon and Bill Mueller have proven that they're worth their contracts with numbers that are close (if not better) than their career averages.
Nixon, in particular, has started to show Francona that he has shaken the boondoggle of lefties, as he's hitting .270 against them. Not bad numbers for a guy who couldn't touch southpaws in his previous ten years.
All of these offensive fireworks have been more impressive considering that their big offseason signing, Edgar Renteria, has looked as if he has not been comfortable since day one. I know nothing about the guy, so I won't speculate on the reasons for his struggles both at the plate and, most surprisingly, in the field, but I have to think it takes a while to get used to coming from over from the National League. I expect him to heat up in the second half the more acclimated he becomes to his surroundings.
The less said about Kevin Millar the better.
Led by Matt Clement, the starters have been ok. David Wells has been inconsistent, Tim Wakefield has been Tim Wakefield, there are some days when Bronson Arroyo looks like a world beater and other days where it seems he'd rather be at the Paradise rock club strumming his guitar. As an owner of Wade Miller in a fantasy league, he's been driving me crazy, but as a fifth starter, he's been ok.
The main thing that the Sox have to do is get Curt Schilling back to his workhorse form and leading this rotation. Even over finding bullpen arms, this is the most important issue facing the team in the upcoming months. If they can do this and get Keith Foulke back into the groove, the Sox will be the team to beat in the American League.
If not, then it looks like a long summer.
I finished this book, or at least a major part of it, earlier this week:
This collection had most of his writings and the one that I chose was his seminal "Thus Spoke Zarathusra". First a little background on why I chose this: I've already told you about the dude I used to work with who turned me on to the ideas of Nietszche, when I finally got into college I wanted to learn all that I could about the German philosopher, so I took an 19th Century German Philosophy class with my buddy Archie. I was way over my head in this class, I was the only person who wasn't a philosophy major and I wasn't used to the writing.
Needless to say Hegel, Kierkegaard and Schopenhaur read like they were written in Chinese. The one thing that kept me in the class is the syllabus said that we were going over Nietzsche, but we never did. Because of his countrymen, it spooked me from reading "TSZ" because I thought that I'd never understand it.
Turns out I had completely psyched myself out, for while it wasn't "Nails" by Lenny Dykstra, it wasn't as incomprehensible as I originally thought. Sure, there were some rough spots and some contexts that I probably glazed over, but for the most part the message came through loud and clear.
While I am glad that I read it, I don't think that you can give this book a grade per se, I am more glad that I conquered this mountain myself.
I'm going to the movies in about 20 minutes, so I am going to wait until later in the week to review "The Fantastic Four" (which I saw yesterday) and the new "Star Wars" (which I am going to finally see soon).
Don't forget Wednesday, a new strip ... and if I may be so bold, it's the best one (art wise) that I've done so far.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Montville, Movies and a Mohel
This is going to be a pretty long post, so you better strap yourself in, I have a lot to say.
First up, last Thursday I went to the Brookline Booksmith and got to meet a true giant in the sportswriting business, Leigh Montville. He's always been sort of a hero of mine from when he was writing for the Globe, but mostly when he was at Sports Illustrated.
He spoke before about 20 of us about his new book about the 2004 Sox and he took a bunch of questions. Some of the more interesting answers that he gave was that he hates sports radio, Curt Schilling isn't well liked in the Sox clubhouse (and probably lost some points for tonight) and that the Ted Williams biography (which I bought) was supposed to be a year's worth of work and 100,000. It turned into 2 years worth of work and 200,000 words.
I asked him about Sports Illustrated and the differences between working there and the Globe. Basically, he said that working at SI sucked. Too political and they would hack up all of his stories as it went through FOUR editors. He said by the time they finished up, it was nothing like what he turned in.
Of course he mentioned that he was there for 12 years, so it couldn't have been that bad.
I also asked him about the "new media", Blogs and web sites. He said that it's something that one should keep their eye on, but he doesn't know much about it. All in all, he was a real nice guy and he had a bunch of terrific stories.
Saturday morning, Aly and I woke up bright and early to go to New York and witness the briss of Tyler Jack Cole, Danna and Rick's newborn son. I had never seen a briss and while I was sort of squeemish about the experience, I sort of wanted to see what it was all about.
We made it to the party, but we missed the ceremony. There was a nightmare of a traffic jam on the Tappen Zee bridge, but according to Danna's brother Evan, it was probably a good thing that we missed it. "There was blood every where," he said. "I almost puked."
We hung out there for the better part of the day and then turned around and went home at about 4:00. I was really beat and wanted to sleep in my own bed that night and besides, I had a ton of homework to do. My last Photoshop class was on Tuesday and I had to finish my project.
I really enjoyed working with this program. It's odd because in the middle of class, things just started to come to me. It's almost as if a light went in my head and I really started to put together everything that my teacher was saying. While I'm not Photoshop expert, I do think I can more than hold my own when it comes to doing this stuff.
Next week we're going to begin Adobe Illustrator. I have no idea what that does, should be a lot of fun.
I meant to tell you that I got my first web site gig. Let me first say, I don't know crap about putting up web sites, that begins in the fall, but I contacted the Boston Braves Historical Society and they want me to do their site. I talked to a guy, Mike Fine, who was really cool. He said that he's been looking for someone to do this for them, but with their membership (a lot of older guys) no one really has the skills to do it.
So I am going to do it for them and have it as my final project. I can't wait, I have a great idea for what to do. I am really pumped about it.
Over the Fourth of July weekend, Aly and I saw a couple of movies, one really good and the other one ... not so great.
The first one we saw was Batman Begins. That was awesome. It told the tale of Batman and how he came to be, especially his training. For a closet comic book geek like myself, this was manna from heaven. The scenes of Bruce Wayne in Tibet (really it was filmed in Iceland) at Ra's Al Goul's training facility were tremendous. Great fight scenes and just a cool overall feeling to flick.
Besides RAG, the Scarecrow was a tremendous villain. For a long time there were a bunch of rumors that Howard Stern was going to play him. Cillian Murphy blew him out of the water. He was really that good. Also, Christian Bale (who was really good in 'American Psycho') did a nice job as Batman. The one complaint was his voice when he was the Caped Crusader. A little hacky.
There were a few sort of rough patches: the casting of Katie Holmes as the "tough, no nonsense DA". Really a stretch as Aly said, "She's just playing Joey Potter as a 'Law & Order' character." Also the fighting scenes in the city were very hurky jerky, it was very tough to tell what the hell was happening.
I believe they are doing a sequel and it's going to be great, I bet.
The next night, it was lady's choice, so we went to see "Bewitched". To be honest, I went of my own free will because though I wasn't a big fan of the original TV series, I like Will Ferrel a lot and spending two hours looking at Nicole Kidman, well I can think of worse ways to spend my time. Plus there was a Daily Show feel to the flick as Stephen Colbert, Steve Carrell and Mo Rocca all had parts in it.
Unfortunately, it was a dud. The first half was pretty good, but it went down hill very quickly. Kidman made an interesting choice in playing her character is a complete retard. I'm not sure why she did that.
And the ending came right out of leftfield. It just happened without any explanation. It wasn't a complete waste, as there were some funny Ferrel scenes, but between this and Ferrel's last movie (Kicking and Screaming), he's going to have to come up with something better ... or at least read the scripts.
Some time this weekend, I'm going to post my Red Sox midseason report card. It's a damn good thing I wasn't grading after this crapfest, they all would've flunked.
First up, last Thursday I went to the Brookline Booksmith and got to meet a true giant in the sportswriting business, Leigh Montville. He's always been sort of a hero of mine from when he was writing for the Globe, but mostly when he was at Sports Illustrated.
He spoke before about 20 of us about his new book about the 2004 Sox and he took a bunch of questions. Some of the more interesting answers that he gave was that he hates sports radio, Curt Schilling isn't well liked in the Sox clubhouse (and probably lost some points for tonight) and that the Ted Williams biography (which I bought) was supposed to be a year's worth of work and 100,000. It turned into 2 years worth of work and 200,000 words.
I asked him about Sports Illustrated and the differences between working there and the Globe. Basically, he said that working at SI sucked. Too political and they would hack up all of his stories as it went through FOUR editors. He said by the time they finished up, it was nothing like what he turned in.
Of course he mentioned that he was there for 12 years, so it couldn't have been that bad.
I also asked him about the "new media", Blogs and web sites. He said that it's something that one should keep their eye on, but he doesn't know much about it. All in all, he was a real nice guy and he had a bunch of terrific stories.
Saturday morning, Aly and I woke up bright and early to go to New York and witness the briss of Tyler Jack Cole, Danna and Rick's newborn son. I had never seen a briss and while I was sort of squeemish about the experience, I sort of wanted to see what it was all about.
We made it to the party, but we missed the ceremony. There was a nightmare of a traffic jam on the Tappen Zee bridge, but according to Danna's brother Evan, it was probably a good thing that we missed it. "There was blood every where," he said. "I almost puked."
We hung out there for the better part of the day and then turned around and went home at about 4:00. I was really beat and wanted to sleep in my own bed that night and besides, I had a ton of homework to do. My last Photoshop class was on Tuesday and I had to finish my project.
I really enjoyed working with this program. It's odd because in the middle of class, things just started to come to me. It's almost as if a light went in my head and I really started to put together everything that my teacher was saying. While I'm not Photoshop expert, I do think I can more than hold my own when it comes to doing this stuff.
Next week we're going to begin Adobe Illustrator. I have no idea what that does, should be a lot of fun.
I meant to tell you that I got my first web site gig. Let me first say, I don't know crap about putting up web sites, that begins in the fall, but I contacted the Boston Braves Historical Society and they want me to do their site. I talked to a guy, Mike Fine, who was really cool. He said that he's been looking for someone to do this for them, but with their membership (a lot of older guys) no one really has the skills to do it.
So I am going to do it for them and have it as my final project. I can't wait, I have a great idea for what to do. I am really pumped about it.
Over the Fourth of July weekend, Aly and I saw a couple of movies, one really good and the other one ... not so great.
The first one we saw was Batman Begins. That was awesome. It told the tale of Batman and how he came to be, especially his training. For a closet comic book geek like myself, this was manna from heaven. The scenes of Bruce Wayne in Tibet (really it was filmed in Iceland) at Ra's Al Goul's training facility were tremendous. Great fight scenes and just a cool overall feeling to flick.
Besides RAG, the Scarecrow was a tremendous villain. For a long time there were a bunch of rumors that Howard Stern was going to play him. Cillian Murphy blew him out of the water. He was really that good. Also, Christian Bale (who was really good in 'American Psycho') did a nice job as Batman. The one complaint was his voice when he was the Caped Crusader. A little hacky.
There were a few sort of rough patches: the casting of Katie Holmes as the "tough, no nonsense DA". Really a stretch as Aly said, "She's just playing Joey Potter as a 'Law & Order' character." Also the fighting scenes in the city were very hurky jerky, it was very tough to tell what the hell was happening.
I believe they are doing a sequel and it's going to be great, I bet.
The next night, it was lady's choice, so we went to see "Bewitched". To be honest, I went of my own free will because though I wasn't a big fan of the original TV series, I like Will Ferrel a lot and spending two hours looking at Nicole Kidman, well I can think of worse ways to spend my time. Plus there was a Daily Show feel to the flick as Stephen Colbert, Steve Carrell and Mo Rocca all had parts in it.
Unfortunately, it was a dud. The first half was pretty good, but it went down hill very quickly. Kidman made an interesting choice in playing her character is a complete retard. I'm not sure why she did that.
And the ending came right out of leftfield. It just happened without any explanation. It wasn't a complete waste, as there were some funny Ferrel scenes, but between this and Ferrel's last movie (Kicking and Screaming), he's going to have to come up with something better ... or at least read the scripts.
Some time this weekend, I'm going to post my Red Sox midseason report card. It's a damn good thing I wasn't grading after this crapfest, they all would've flunked.
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
Finally, A New Strip
Ok, I've been a bit laxed in my Blog entries, but I've been really busy. You'll find out on Thursday when I post a mega-Blog.
But today is all about the comic strip. This is the first one that I scanned in and uploaded myself. If I had to grade this, I'd give it a B or a B-. There are a few things that I don't like, but for the most part, I think I did a pretty passable job. Especially considering I'm using a program that's at least five years out of date.
If you have no idea what the hell I'm talking about go here: www.room19comics.com
Anyway, this strip features Kurt and Eddie chillin' at the bus stop. And Eddie starts talking about his older brother who seems to be into the whole music scene. Like any aging hipster, Eddie's brother is raging against newer music. Why? Who knows, why does anyone hate music that has a "2" in front of the copywrite date?
There's a lot of people like Eddie's brother in the world today, myself included, who think that music topped out when they were in their formative years. And while grunge dudes like myself are bad, no one loves themselves like a baby boomer.
Ask a BB when the earth was created and most will say around 1947. Ask them about "classic" eras in sport, music, television, movies, literature, anything and wouldn't you know that they were young throughout all of these eras. Never mind that the number one song of 1967 (the Summer of Love) was the Archie's "Sugar, Sugar" or that the number one TV show of that era was "The Beverly Hillbillies".
I'm not trying to crack on these folks, because you hear and see a lot of this stuff, not so much from people who went to high school and college in the 70s and 80s, but the other two decades most definitely. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that most of the kids in the 90s were sons and daughters of the children of the 60s.
But getting back to the comic, Eddie calls these people out, and while I wanted to use language a bit more salty, I abstained. After all, this is a family strip.
Ok, I'll talk to you on Thursday ... then I'll have a story about a former Globe columnist, a bris and two movies. If that doesn't whet your appetite, I'm afraid nothing will. And this weekend, I'll give you my Sox midseason report.
But today is all about the comic strip. This is the first one that I scanned in and uploaded myself. If I had to grade this, I'd give it a B or a B-. There are a few things that I don't like, but for the most part, I think I did a pretty passable job. Especially considering I'm using a program that's at least five years out of date.
If you have no idea what the hell I'm talking about go here: www.room19comics.com
Anyway, this strip features Kurt and Eddie chillin' at the bus stop. And Eddie starts talking about his older brother who seems to be into the whole music scene. Like any aging hipster, Eddie's brother is raging against newer music. Why? Who knows, why does anyone hate music that has a "2" in front of the copywrite date?
There's a lot of people like Eddie's brother in the world today, myself included, who think that music topped out when they were in their formative years. And while grunge dudes like myself are bad, no one loves themselves like a baby boomer.
Ask a BB when the earth was created and most will say around 1947. Ask them about "classic" eras in sport, music, television, movies, literature, anything and wouldn't you know that they were young throughout all of these eras. Never mind that the number one song of 1967 (the Summer of Love) was the Archie's "Sugar, Sugar" or that the number one TV show of that era was "The Beverly Hillbillies".
I'm not trying to crack on these folks, because you hear and see a lot of this stuff, not so much from people who went to high school and college in the 70s and 80s, but the other two decades most definitely. I'm sure it has nothing to do with the fact that most of the kids in the 90s were sons and daughters of the children of the 60s.
But getting back to the comic, Eddie calls these people out, and while I wanted to use language a bit more salty, I abstained. After all, this is a family strip.
Ok, I'll talk to you on Thursday ... then I'll have a story about a former Globe columnist, a bris and two movies. If that doesn't whet your appetite, I'm afraid nothing will. And this weekend, I'll give you my Sox midseason report.
Tuesday, July 05, 2005
A comic culled from my past
Aren't you the lucky little monkeys? Two Blog entries in two days. The reason why yesterday's never made it to the comic page is because I was in Franklin and Aly's dad doesn't have Dreamweaver. So, if you want a cool story about me yelling at a fat lady and read Aquaman's latest, go a bit past this entry.
New cartoon is up today. It's a pretty good one if I do say so myself. And if you still aren't hip to the radical new web site taking America by storm, go to www.room19comics.com and become a true believer.
The title of this Blog says it all, this is actually a story from my sorted past. When I was in college I had a roommate named Bob. He's a good guy, pretty smart, super laid back, smoked more grass than anyone I knew, but never really let it affect him. Bob was from northern New Hampshire and besides being a bit of a hillbilly, all of his friends went to "Good Old State U", otherwise known as the University of New Hampshire.
One of Bob's best friends was a dude named Thomps. Thomps was the type of guy who'd tell you the exact opposite of what you'd expect to hear because he wanted you to either argue with him or admire his "brazen" attitude. Unfortunately for Thomps he was full of shit and wouldn't choose the right subjects to be a contrarian about. One of these things was his view on the weather.
Thomps proudly told anyone who walked by that he wears shorts until the first snow fall. It could be 21 degrees with a wind chill of 2 and he'd be strutting around in his cargo shorts wondering what everyone was looking at. He loved the attention, but since it's really not that big of a deal, most of the time people ignored him. This lead to him asking "Wanna know why I'm wearing shorts?"
As you can tell, very lame.
I didn't want Eddie to be lame, the way I picture him, he's a dreamer and from time to time finds himself trapped in the (recent) past. When he gets made to come into the real world, it often hits him like a bucket of cold water. So there's a lesson to be learned here, don't live in the past.
There are two things you should notice about this strip, one: it's a four-panel one. That makes the site a bit compact. Once I figure out how to resize it, it'll be ok. The other is, look at Kurt's jacket. I purposely made it grow larger with each panel to sort of drive home how cold it is and how foolish Eddie looks in a spring jacket.
On Thursday I'm coming back with another Blog entry, I'm going to review a couple movies I saw this weekend and we can talk about some other stuff too. Talk to you then.
New cartoon is up today. It's a pretty good one if I do say so myself. And if you still aren't hip to the radical new web site taking America by storm, go to www.room19comics.com and become a true believer.
The title of this Blog says it all, this is actually a story from my sorted past. When I was in college I had a roommate named Bob. He's a good guy, pretty smart, super laid back, smoked more grass than anyone I knew, but never really let it affect him. Bob was from northern New Hampshire and besides being a bit of a hillbilly, all of his friends went to "Good Old State U", otherwise known as the University of New Hampshire.
One of Bob's best friends was a dude named Thomps. Thomps was the type of guy who'd tell you the exact opposite of what you'd expect to hear because he wanted you to either argue with him or admire his "brazen" attitude. Unfortunately for Thomps he was full of shit and wouldn't choose the right subjects to be a contrarian about. One of these things was his view on the weather.
Thomps proudly told anyone who walked by that he wears shorts until the first snow fall. It could be 21 degrees with a wind chill of 2 and he'd be strutting around in his cargo shorts wondering what everyone was looking at. He loved the attention, but since it's really not that big of a deal, most of the time people ignored him. This lead to him asking "Wanna know why I'm wearing shorts?"
As you can tell, very lame.
I didn't want Eddie to be lame, the way I picture him, he's a dreamer and from time to time finds himself trapped in the (recent) past. When he gets made to come into the real world, it often hits him like a bucket of cold water. So there's a lesson to be learned here, don't live in the past.
There are two things you should notice about this strip, one: it's a four-panel one. That makes the site a bit compact. Once I figure out how to resize it, it'll be ok. The other is, look at Kurt's jacket. I purposely made it grow larger with each panel to sort of drive home how cold it is and how foolish Eddie looks in a spring jacket.
On Thursday I'm coming back with another Blog entry, I'm going to review a couple movies I saw this weekend and we can talk about some other stuff too. Talk to you then.
Monday, July 04, 2005
A funny story and some Q and A's with Aquaman
This was going to simply be a question and answer Blog with the Prince of the Deep, Aquaman, but a funny thing happened to Aly and I yesterday on the T. We were heading into Government Center to sample the Chowderfest (long story short, we got there, the lines were waaaaay too long so we went to Pizzeria Regina instead) and instead of taking the car we jumped on the T. The Sox were playing at 2:00 and we got on around 1, so the train was packed.
At the very next stop, this fat lady in a tie-dyed shirt starts busting her way out of the train. She's screaming and yelling, but people can only move so fast because the train is absolutely packed. Finally she yells at Aly, "Get out of the way! Are you so lazy that you can't move two steps?"
First of all, Aly was moving, it's just that there was a half dozen people in front of her, so I look at the lady and say, "Hey Tubby, cram it." And then she said, "What did you say?" and I told her again. She then went on a rant about how it wasn't nice to say something like that, only she was screaming. Finally I told her to take a walk because it looked like she could use it.
Then she gave me the bird and continued to yell at me. At that point, I just smirked and waved goodbye, because the conductor shut the door and we left. Here's the thing, I don't really feel good about what I did (though it was funny that I called her Tubby), but at the same time, she was being an obnoxious bitch, who is she to yell at Aly? Sometimes, people can be real assholes.
And speaking of a real asshole, here's Aquaman with his first ever question and answer column:
Thanks, Byron. If you ever call me an asshole again there will be a school of piranah in your toilet next time you sit down to take a piss ... that's how the girls do it, right?
Anyway, I got a bunch of letters from my fans over the last year about super heroes and stuff, so since I'm an expert, I'm going to answer them for you. And if you don't like the answers, maybe you're asking the wrong questions.
First one:
Aquaman,
Who would win in a fight between the Thing and the Hulk?
Sincerely,
Steven Rogers
Dumb question Steve. For one thing, if they fought in the water, I'd kick both of their asses with one arm tied behind my back. How many times do I have to tell you that the Earth is made up of 75% water and I'm the toughest dude there? I mean, the Thing is made of orange rocks. The Hulk is a brainless idiot. One sinks, the other stinks. End of story.
Yo AM,
Who would win in a race between the Flash and Superman. Both are wicked fast.
Your bud,
Vinnie Favale
Vinnie, you're a turd and no bud of mine. First Steve asks about two mouthbreathers and now you. What the fuck? Like the previous question, if these two were having a race in the water, the obvious answer is that I'd win. And BTW, do you know how the Flash got his name? Ask his girlfriend. Wocka, wocka.
Hi Aquaman,
Long time, first time here. Your arch enemy is a guy named Black Manta. Black Vulcan is an African American, Black Panther is too, are you fighting him because you're a racist? Why don't you just let him be himself? Also, do you like porcelin dolls, because I do.
O'Shea Jackson
I'll take your last question first, of course I don't like porcelin dolls. Although that does remind me of a rumor I heard this weekend, do you know that Ice Cube was kicked out of NWA because he collected porcelin dolls? It's true. Apparently Eazy-E found out, started ragging on him and off he left. Drag that something like that ended one of the greatest rap acts of all time.
For the more serious question: no, I am not a racist.
Aquaman,
Why aren't you on the new Justice League cartooon any more? All of the other heroes are, even Elastic Man. Are you a bigger pussy than Elastic Man?
Reed Richards
No. I could kick that guy's ass, if he came under the sea. The reason why I'm not on the new Justice League cartoon is because those guys at Cartoon Network are the biggest bunch of cheapskates on the planet. Listen, I'm an original SuperFriend, I don't work for scale.
If they want me, they better pay me Superman or Batman money. None of this Apache Chief cash. And confidentially, Apache Chief only takes beaver pelts and booze in exchange for work. Weird system he has going on there.
Hey big boy,
What would you say to a little Giganta action?
G. Ganta
I'd say get an air tank and get that big ass of yours down here ... you're not the only thing that grows when you get excited!
And that's about it for Q and A with the Big A. Next time, I'll have more answers for your questions.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
Where were you 368 days ago?
It was a little over a year ago that I started this little blog and I'm still here. Whether that is a good or not, I'll leave that up to you, but I never thought that I'd do it. While not the most significant anniversary in the world, it really means a lot to me: 368 days, 112 posts, thousands of words (some actually are spelled correctly and combine with others to make a decent thought), not too bad.
Thank you for reading and indulging in my written insanity.
During the last year a lot of things have changed: I moved from Somerville to Brookline, I went from being single to engaged, I don't hate my job as much, I'm in school and I have a brand new website, (excuse me, a little net whoring: click here). Things are looking good.
Today is the Saturday of the Fourth of July weekend, we aren't doing jackshit. It's a gorgeous day out and I'm sitting in here writing and after that I'll probably work on my strip for a bit. I have to start pulling together a list of people that I want to see my strip (that dude that I met at Johana's wedding, and the cartoonist whom I spoke to in November, Sara's friend) and find some websites where I can link my site.
Truth be told, I haven't been getting a lot of hits on the comic and if I want things to grow a bit, I'm going to need more eyeballs. Ryan suggested that I work on putting up two strips a week, but I can't do that now, with work, school, the wedding, trying to go to the gym, there are just too many things. Plus, I want to start with a solid base and work on meeting my self-imposed deadlines. You'd be surprised how quick a week goes by when you need to post things.
I finished another book, one that I bought on Saturday. Buzzed through it in about three days, which isn't any big shakes as I'll explain in a moment. Anyway, here is the libro:
First off, I am a gigantic Kevin Smith fan, for those that don't know, he is the writer/director of "Clerks", "Mallrats", "Chasing Amy", "Dogma", "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" and "Jersey Girl". I never saw the last movie, but the first five are tremendous. If you haven't seen them, get out and rent them, especially "Clerks".
I've seen countless interviews with the guy and he seems like a real solid dude, no pretentsion at all. He was a working stiff who made and financed "Clerks" with loans and credit cards and it turned out to be a huge hit. Another thing that I like about him is that he seems to have never forgotten a friend or where he came from. To me that's pretty important.
Having said all of that, there were a few problems I had with the book. One he used my old college trick of making a book or a report or essay look more impressive than it really is. He (or more rightly, his publisher) jacked up the type and squished the margins (all fucking four, that's pretty ballsy) in. The book was about 300 pages, but in reality, it was maybe 140. But in order to justify charging $14.00 for it, I guess they had to make it longer. Whatever, not a huge deal.
This fault is mostly mine, but I had read a good portion of his essays on line. He has an awesome web page that has a Blog and a message board where he chats with fans. Personally, I think that's the balls when someone whom many people respect take time out of their busy schedule to check in with little guys and gals. Here it is, if you're curious: View Askew.
So that sucks for me.
The third thing is that aside from a vicious cut job on Reese Witherspoon, Smith really doesn't deliver the goods as far as gossip. He's a cocktease about it, writing that he heard some cool shit, but he never delivers. I understand why he can't, but it still sucks. Also, he shouldn't be allowed to interview anyone. He sits down with Ben Affleck (whom I like) and Tom Cruise (whom I think is a total tool) and as I was reading it, I actually felt embarrassment. Sure, it's cool to fawn all over your idols, but this was a bit much.
But in the long run he's a writer, not a journalist (that's his wife), and when he writes, he's magnificent. Just some great observations on pop culture, some cool behind the scenes on his movies and how Hollywood really works. I thought that the best parts is when he detailed his regular life. Like I said, I like Smith a lot, he seems like a dude who I would really like to hang with and this book didn't do anything to change that.
I've been sort of putting doing these things off, especially since I started the strip, but I want you to look at this comic strip:
To say that I was surprised when I read this is an understatement, I think someone has kidnapped Johnny Hart and replaced him with Zach De La Rocha. Johnny has always peppered his strips with very strong Christian and pro-American rhetoric for as long as I can remember. And this is a direct shot at the U.S. government, or at least an unofficial part of the law making process.
And in calling lobbyists bribers, he's heavily insinuating that congressmen and senators are actually taking that bribe. And if we go a step further, if the lobbyists have our government in their pockets, that means our country is being controlled by big business.
Not exactly apple pie, mom and baseball, is it? And two days before our nation's birthday! You've got balls, Mr. Hart.
I have to admit, I like it. I really do, not that I think that the United States is run by Big Business, I think it is, but I'm glad that someone like Hart is thinking the same thing. Next thing you know, Bill Keane is going to be asking for "blood in the streets" and Jim Davis will stop railing against Mondays and starting screaming for the impeachment of George W.
Has the world gone Ted Rall on us?
BTW, I won't be in Brookline for the rest of the weekend, I'm going to try and post an Aquaman Blog sometime, but the computer that I'll be near still has a dial-up connection. We'll see how it goes. Have a Happy Fourth, everyone and congratulations to Danna and Rick on the birth of their first child. Mozltov.
Thank you for reading and indulging in my written insanity.
During the last year a lot of things have changed: I moved from Somerville to Brookline, I went from being single to engaged, I don't hate my job as much, I'm in school and I have a brand new website, (excuse me, a little net whoring: click here). Things are looking good.
Today is the Saturday of the Fourth of July weekend, we aren't doing jackshit. It's a gorgeous day out and I'm sitting in here writing and after that I'll probably work on my strip for a bit. I have to start pulling together a list of people that I want to see my strip (that dude that I met at Johana's wedding, and the cartoonist whom I spoke to in November, Sara's friend) and find some websites where I can link my site.
Truth be told, I haven't been getting a lot of hits on the comic and if I want things to grow a bit, I'm going to need more eyeballs. Ryan suggested that I work on putting up two strips a week, but I can't do that now, with work, school, the wedding, trying to go to the gym, there are just too many things. Plus, I want to start with a solid base and work on meeting my self-imposed deadlines. You'd be surprised how quick a week goes by when you need to post things.
I finished another book, one that I bought on Saturday. Buzzed through it in about three days, which isn't any big shakes as I'll explain in a moment. Anyway, here is the libro:
First off, I am a gigantic Kevin Smith fan, for those that don't know, he is the writer/director of "Clerks", "Mallrats", "Chasing Amy", "Dogma", "Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back" and "Jersey Girl". I never saw the last movie, but the first five are tremendous. If you haven't seen them, get out and rent them, especially "Clerks". I've seen countless interviews with the guy and he seems like a real solid dude, no pretentsion at all. He was a working stiff who made and financed "Clerks" with loans and credit cards and it turned out to be a huge hit. Another thing that I like about him is that he seems to have never forgotten a friend or where he came from. To me that's pretty important.
Having said all of that, there were a few problems I had with the book. One he used my old college trick of making a book or a report or essay look more impressive than it really is. He (or more rightly, his publisher) jacked up the type and squished the margins (all fucking four, that's pretty ballsy) in. The book was about 300 pages, but in reality, it was maybe 140. But in order to justify charging $14.00 for it, I guess they had to make it longer. Whatever, not a huge deal.
This fault is mostly mine, but I had read a good portion of his essays on line. He has an awesome web page that has a Blog and a message board where he chats with fans. Personally, I think that's the balls when someone whom many people respect take time out of their busy schedule to check in with little guys and gals. Here it is, if you're curious: View Askew.
So that sucks for me.
The third thing is that aside from a vicious cut job on Reese Witherspoon, Smith really doesn't deliver the goods as far as gossip. He's a cocktease about it, writing that he heard some cool shit, but he never delivers. I understand why he can't, but it still sucks. Also, he shouldn't be allowed to interview anyone. He sits down with Ben Affleck (whom I like) and Tom Cruise (whom I think is a total tool) and as I was reading it, I actually felt embarrassment. Sure, it's cool to fawn all over your idols, but this was a bit much.
But in the long run he's a writer, not a journalist (that's his wife), and when he writes, he's magnificent. Just some great observations on pop culture, some cool behind the scenes on his movies and how Hollywood really works. I thought that the best parts is when he detailed his regular life. Like I said, I like Smith a lot, he seems like a dude who I would really like to hang with and this book didn't do anything to change that.
I've been sort of putting doing these things off, especially since I started the strip, but I want you to look at this comic strip:
To say that I was surprised when I read this is an understatement, I think someone has kidnapped Johnny Hart and replaced him with Zach De La Rocha. Johnny has always peppered his strips with very strong Christian and pro-American rhetoric for as long as I can remember. And this is a direct shot at the U.S. government, or at least an unofficial part of the law making process.
And in calling lobbyists bribers, he's heavily insinuating that congressmen and senators are actually taking that bribe. And if we go a step further, if the lobbyists have our government in their pockets, that means our country is being controlled by big business.
Not exactly apple pie, mom and baseball, is it? And two days before our nation's birthday! You've got balls, Mr. Hart.
I have to admit, I like it. I really do, not that I think that the United States is run by Big Business, I think it is, but I'm glad that someone like Hart is thinking the same thing. Next thing you know, Bill Keane is going to be asking for "blood in the streets" and Jim Davis will stop railing against Mondays and starting screaming for the impeachment of George W.
Has the world gone Ted Rall on us?
BTW, I won't be in Brookline for the rest of the weekend, I'm going to try and post an Aquaman Blog sometime, but the computer that I'll be near still has a dial-up connection. We'll see how it goes. Have a Happy Fourth, everyone and congratulations to Danna and Rick on the birth of their first child. Mozltov.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
This Is More Like It
Last week you got a glimpse at how unoriginal I can be, now check out the first real Byron Magrane original. It's a play on perceived notions. Our hero, Eddie thinks he's the next Dominican slugging superstar. His buddy, Kurt, shows him otherwise.
I think at one time or another everyone has delusions of grandeur and for the most part they always run contrary to another's same delusions. No matter whom you are, you're not going to win every single time. That's just the way life is sometimes.
There are two things that I really like about this strip, the chair (which is the exact same chair that I'm sitting next to now) and the whole Wiffle Ball scene. Charlie Brown has football, Dagwood has golf, Eddie Verde is going to have Wiffle Ball.
BTW, if you happened to have found this site without seeing the strip, you can go to: http://www.room19comics.com
Why Wiffle Ball? Quite simply it's the greatest game ever invented. It's sort of like one-on-one hoops, except with baseball. You don't have to worry about breaking stuff, finding 18 guys, etc. You and a buddy can just grab a yellow bat, a couple of balls and a chair and you're ready to go.
I still try and get a couple of games in every summer, but with work, relationships, and other real-life stuff, it gets harder and harder to squeeze in a few hours. My apex was the late 90s, I had my fastball flying, my knuckler knuckling and I could hit the ball a mile.
My main protagonist in this sport of kings was none other than Steve Brown. He had the patience and batting eye of Tony Gwynn, so he was a tough man to strike out and oftentimes he'd foul off pitch after pitch after pitch until he found one that he loved.
Now that he lives in Waltham, we don't play as much as we used to, but throw us back on the field and you'll see some stars shine.
BTW, I was originally going to have Kurt say "Pedro Martinez" instead of Roger Clemens, but I wrote this around the time when Clemens got his sixth Cy Young and I wanted to send a shout out to the old man, I don't hate him nearly as much as I did when he was a Yankee.
Speaking of baseball and Brownie, last night he and I, and Aly and Cindy took in a game between the Sox and the Indians. They lost 7-0 as Bronson Arroyo was the recipient of some bad luck. It wouldn't have mattered if he had all the luck in the world, because Kevin Millwood was mowing the Sox down. That ended their seven game win streak.
Tonight the Sox gave up at least five runs in the ninth and are losing (and have probably lost to the Indians) 12-8. Foulkin' Foulke. Unbelievable.
Speaking of streaks, I had four and a half Fenway Franks last night. Needless to say, I felt like total dog shit last night and today.
I think at one time or another everyone has delusions of grandeur and for the most part they always run contrary to another's same delusions. No matter whom you are, you're not going to win every single time. That's just the way life is sometimes.
There are two things that I really like about this strip, the chair (which is the exact same chair that I'm sitting next to now) and the whole Wiffle Ball scene. Charlie Brown has football, Dagwood has golf, Eddie Verde is going to have Wiffle Ball.
BTW, if you happened to have found this site without seeing the strip, you can go to: http://www.room19comics.com
Why Wiffle Ball? Quite simply it's the greatest game ever invented. It's sort of like one-on-one hoops, except with baseball. You don't have to worry about breaking stuff, finding 18 guys, etc. You and a buddy can just grab a yellow bat, a couple of balls and a chair and you're ready to go.
I still try and get a couple of games in every summer, but with work, relationships, and other real-life stuff, it gets harder and harder to squeeze in a few hours. My apex was the late 90s, I had my fastball flying, my knuckler knuckling and I could hit the ball a mile.
My main protagonist in this sport of kings was none other than Steve Brown. He had the patience and batting eye of Tony Gwynn, so he was a tough man to strike out and oftentimes he'd foul off pitch after pitch after pitch until he found one that he loved.
Now that he lives in Waltham, we don't play as much as we used to, but throw us back on the field and you'll see some stars shine.
BTW, I was originally going to have Kurt say "Pedro Martinez" instead of Roger Clemens, but I wrote this around the time when Clemens got his sixth Cy Young and I wanted to send a shout out to the old man, I don't hate him nearly as much as I did when he was a Yankee.
Speaking of baseball and Brownie, last night he and I, and Aly and Cindy took in a game between the Sox and the Indians. They lost 7-0 as Bronson Arroyo was the recipient of some bad luck. It wouldn't have mattered if he had all the luck in the world, because Kevin Millwood was mowing the Sox down. That ended their seven game win streak.
Tonight the Sox gave up at least five runs in the ninth and are losing (and have probably lost to the Indians) 12-8. Foulkin' Foulke. Unbelievable.
Speaking of streaks, I had four and a half Fenway Franks last night. Needless to say, I felt like total dog shit last night and today.
Sunday, June 26, 2005
Reviews from the weekend
This weekend was a scorchah! At least that's what they've been saying around here, as yesterday the temperature reached 97 degrees. Even thought it was hot out, I just think back to the miserable weather we had from November through March. Cold every single day. Not even just a wee bit nipply, it was a tongue-frozen-to-the-flag-pole-type cold every freaking day.
So two months full of hot weather is fine by me.
Not much happened this weekend, got a lot of wedding crap done, did eight loads of laundry at the future parents-in-law's place, saw Jeff Baglioni's new house (real nice) and went to Nick and Debbie's bridal party get together. They're getting hitched a year from now (on my birthday, in fact) and they wanted everyone involved in the wedding to have a chance to hang out a bit and get to know one another.
It was fun, the food was plentiful and catered (always a bonus), the Sox were on (they won) and they had plenty of beer. A nice day.
Last night we were at Jeff's. He's bought a place in Franklin that's really nice and quite large. It's so big in fact, that there are a few rooms that are bare. Not a bad problem to have. He said that he likes having a home, but he gets sort of lonely coming home to an empty house. I agree with him because while you'd be able to get a bunch of stuff done, it would suck to always watch a game or a movie or a cool show by yourself.
To remedy that, he's thinking about getting a roommate.
I finished another book last week, this was a good one:
As you can tell from the cover (yes Virginia, there are actually times when you can tell a book from its cover) this book is about the 2004 seasons of the Red Sox and the Yankees. It was written by beat writers Tony Massarotti and John Harper, which means that this is a more in-depth story of the season from two guys who was around the team from Spring Training through the last game of the World Series.
First off, a pledge, this is the last thing that I buy about the 2004 Sox. I have at least four magazines, two books, two DVDs, three shirts, a cap and just about every newspaper from October. That's it, I'm bled dry. No more ... though I hear next month they're releaseing a DVD set that has every single game from the playoffs. If anyone is reading this that wants to buy me a wedding or birthday gift, that would be the one.
Short story, I liked this book a lot. Maz really gets into the Sox/Yanks rivalry. He grew up in Waltham and went to Tufts, he's a Massachusetts guy through and through, so he takes it pretty personally when a New York writer rips on the Sox. I found this to be the most shocking part of the book because the prevailing "wisdom" through out Internet-land is that Tony Maz hates the Sox. That's just not true. In fact there are times in the book when he goes overboard defending the Sox.
His passion for the team that he covers is apparent, while Harper's is more detached, I don't want to say more professional, but it's more hardened, like he's seen everything before. I don't think that's necessarily a good thing because at times he writes as if he's bored by the events occuring to each team. I don't know whether it's because I'm a fan of the Sox, but I felt more excited, more disapointed, more pissed, more jubilant when I was reading Maz' chapters (the book was written in a fashion that every other chapter, one of the author's would take over.)
Not only did Maz' chapters have more energy, but they were longer too. He set up the scenes, gave the Boston view and then Harper would come in and give the New York perspective. Maybe because Maz led off, Harper was at a disadvantage, but there were times when it just seemed that he was a bit disinterested.
The one complaint I had about the tome was that for all of the detail they went into each Yankee/Red Sox series, they glossed over the rest of the series. That's a minor point however, because unlike the Stephen King and Stewart O'Nan trainwreck, these two guys really did a great job of getting the reader new information. Especially on the Jeter/ARod relationship, what some of the Sox really thought about Curt Schilling and on what makes Steinbrenner and Luchino tick.
Obviously I haven't read all 27 books that came out about the 2004 World Champion Boston Red Sox (I love writing that, BTW) but I find it hard to imagine another book even coming close to matching the information found in these pages.
After doing some homework on Friday night, I had to make a poster about summer in Boston using images, Aly and I went to the movies.
Anyhow, we went to Kendall Square Cinemas in Cambridge to check out this flick that we both got wind of, "Miysterious Skin". Not a good choice. The movie and acting itself was ok, but the plot was terrible, Aly almost puked. In a nutshell, these two eight-year-olds are sexually abused by their baseball coach (who looked a lot like Jeff Kent) when they grew up they went in two different directions. One became a gay hustler, the other was convinced that he was abducted by aliens.
The kid who turned out to be a gay hustler was played by the kid from "Third Rock from the Sun" Joseph Gordon-Levitt. If you see this movie, you'll never look at this guy the same way again. The way I felt after this movie was the way I felt after seeing "Kids" or "Saving Private Ryan". The sex scenes were as graphic (and all pretty much gay) as any that I've ever seen and there were times when I had to remind myself that this was "only a movie".
After having two days to think this over, the one thing that I can say is that it did for gay sex scenes what "Pulp Fiction" and "Resevoir Dogs" did for violence. It was that disturbing. I would probably never see this flick again, but it brought the viewer into the world of the abused and the confused.
The major problem that I had was that there was no real resolution to the story. I have a feeling that the screen writer left it that way purposely. While I did not expect a happy ending, that would've been a HUGE copout, but I wanted some sort of closure. Anything. You left the characters the same way as you found them.
For most part, the acting was top notch. Levitt had to work hard to make himself believable as a street smart (for Kansas anyway) street hustler, and he did a terrific job. Brady Corbet, who played the alien-obsessed other victim of the baseball coach (Bill Sage, BTW), did a tremendous job as well. And to be honest, while Levitt's part had more heavy lifting, Corbet had to be believably niave and he pulled it off.
Michelle Trachtenberg (Dawn from Buffy) wasn't as great as her male counterparts. She was more annoying than anything else as she was supposed to be the moral compass of the flick and at that she failed badly. Mary Lynn Rajskub (Chloe from 24) was an interesting choice for Corbet's UFO ally.
All in all, it was well acted, profoundly disturbing and an all around ok flick, though one that I'll never see again.
So two months full of hot weather is fine by me.
Not much happened this weekend, got a lot of wedding crap done, did eight loads of laundry at the future parents-in-law's place, saw Jeff Baglioni's new house (real nice) and went to Nick and Debbie's bridal party get together. They're getting hitched a year from now (on my birthday, in fact) and they wanted everyone involved in the wedding to have a chance to hang out a bit and get to know one another.
It was fun, the food was plentiful and catered (always a bonus), the Sox were on (they won) and they had plenty of beer. A nice day.
Last night we were at Jeff's. He's bought a place in Franklin that's really nice and quite large. It's so big in fact, that there are a few rooms that are bare. Not a bad problem to have. He said that he likes having a home, but he gets sort of lonely coming home to an empty house. I agree with him because while you'd be able to get a bunch of stuff done, it would suck to always watch a game or a movie or a cool show by yourself.
To remedy that, he's thinking about getting a roommate.
I finished another book last week, this was a good one:
As you can tell from the cover (yes Virginia, there are actually times when you can tell a book from its cover) this book is about the 2004 seasons of the Red Sox and the Yankees. It was written by beat writers Tony Massarotti and John Harper, which means that this is a more in-depth story of the season from two guys who was around the team from Spring Training through the last game of the World Series.
First off, a pledge, this is the last thing that I buy about the 2004 Sox. I have at least four magazines, two books, two DVDs, three shirts, a cap and just about every newspaper from October. That's it, I'm bled dry. No more ... though I hear next month they're releaseing a DVD set that has every single game from the playoffs. If anyone is reading this that wants to buy me a wedding or birthday gift, that would be the one.
Short story, I liked this book a lot. Maz really gets into the Sox/Yanks rivalry. He grew up in Waltham and went to Tufts, he's a Massachusetts guy through and through, so he takes it pretty personally when a New York writer rips on the Sox. I found this to be the most shocking part of the book because the prevailing "wisdom" through out Internet-land is that Tony Maz hates the Sox. That's just not true. In fact there are times in the book when he goes overboard defending the Sox.
His passion for the team that he covers is apparent, while Harper's is more detached, I don't want to say more professional, but it's more hardened, like he's seen everything before. I don't think that's necessarily a good thing because at times he writes as if he's bored by the events occuring to each team. I don't know whether it's because I'm a fan of the Sox, but I felt more excited, more disapointed, more pissed, more jubilant when I was reading Maz' chapters (the book was written in a fashion that every other chapter, one of the author's would take over.)
Not only did Maz' chapters have more energy, but they were longer too. He set up the scenes, gave the Boston view and then Harper would come in and give the New York perspective. Maybe because Maz led off, Harper was at a disadvantage, but there were times when it just seemed that he was a bit disinterested.
The one complaint I had about the tome was that for all of the detail they went into each Yankee/Red Sox series, they glossed over the rest of the series. That's a minor point however, because unlike the Stephen King and Stewart O'Nan trainwreck, these two guys really did a great job of getting the reader new information. Especially on the Jeter/ARod relationship, what some of the Sox really thought about Curt Schilling and on what makes Steinbrenner and Luchino tick.
Obviously I haven't read all 27 books that came out about the 2004 World Champion Boston Red Sox (I love writing that, BTW) but I find it hard to imagine another book even coming close to matching the information found in these pages.
After doing some homework on Friday night, I had to make a poster about summer in Boston using images, Aly and I went to the movies.
Anyhow, we went to Kendall Square Cinemas in Cambridge to check out this flick that we both got wind of, "Miysterious Skin". Not a good choice. The movie and acting itself was ok, but the plot was terrible, Aly almost puked. In a nutshell, these two eight-year-olds are sexually abused by their baseball coach (who looked a lot like Jeff Kent) when they grew up they went in two different directions. One became a gay hustler, the other was convinced that he was abducted by aliens.
The kid who turned out to be a gay hustler was played by the kid from "Third Rock from the Sun" Joseph Gordon-Levitt. If you see this movie, you'll never look at this guy the same way again. The way I felt after this movie was the way I felt after seeing "Kids" or "Saving Private Ryan". The sex scenes were as graphic (and all pretty much gay) as any that I've ever seen and there were times when I had to remind myself that this was "only a movie".
After having two days to think this over, the one thing that I can say is that it did for gay sex scenes what "Pulp Fiction" and "Resevoir Dogs" did for violence. It was that disturbing. I would probably never see this flick again, but it brought the viewer into the world of the abused and the confused.
The major problem that I had was that there was no real resolution to the story. I have a feeling that the screen writer left it that way purposely. While I did not expect a happy ending, that would've been a HUGE copout, but I wanted some sort of closure. Anything. You left the characters the same way as you found them.
For most part, the acting was top notch. Levitt had to work hard to make himself believable as a street smart (for Kansas anyway) street hustler, and he did a terrific job. Brady Corbet, who played the alien-obsessed other victim of the baseball coach (Bill Sage, BTW), did a tremendous job as well. And to be honest, while Levitt's part had more heavy lifting, Corbet had to be believably niave and he pulled it off.
Michelle Trachtenberg (Dawn from Buffy) wasn't as great as her male counterparts. She was more annoying than anything else as she was supposed to be the moral compass of the flick and at that she failed badly. Mary Lynn Rajskub (Chloe from 24) was an interesting choice for Corbet's UFO ally.
All in all, it was well acted, profoundly disturbing and an all around ok flick, though one that I'll never see again.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Odds and Ends
Yesterday I officially opened Room19, sent out about 50 emails (to friends) and received a bunch of compliments and encouragements, which was really nice. So now I'm done talking about the comic strip until next week. I'm going back to the regularly scheduled Blog update, which may or may not be a good thing.
I am actually home right now because I have to work at another conference today, this time it's at SeaPort Hotel in Boston and it's for AUPHA. Don't ask me what that acronym means because I don't know. It's a three-day show, but I only have to go for one, which rules. I have a feeling that this show is going to suck, so the less time I'm there, the better.
Besides being a conference day, it's also Aly's birthday. She's 28-years-old today, just two more years and she joins the 30-year-old club. I got snapped her a picture (blown up of course) of her favorite scene in Boston, some earrings and a Washington Nationals hat. We're also going out for sushi tonight, which will probably become something of a tradition. I don't like the stuff, but she loves it, so on her birthday we do what she wants. It's only fair.
Not much else is going on, SoSH doesn't seem to be up, so there goes about half of my readership, this past weekend, Aly and I hung out with Ryan and Kristen in Newburyport, went to Anthony's birthday party at Lir (a bar in Boston) and hung out in Amesbury with my parents for father's day.
By now you can probably tell that I have zero to write about and am just throwing a bunch of stuff against the wall to see if it sticks. Unfortunately, not much is happening. So instead of making you read more boring, pointless crap, I'm going to stop.
Talk to you soon.
I am actually home right now because I have to work at another conference today, this time it's at SeaPort Hotel in Boston and it's for AUPHA. Don't ask me what that acronym means because I don't know. It's a three-day show, but I only have to go for one, which rules. I have a feeling that this show is going to suck, so the less time I'm there, the better.
Besides being a conference day, it's also Aly's birthday. She's 28-years-old today, just two more years and she joins the 30-year-old club. I got snapped her a picture (blown up of course) of her favorite scene in Boston, some earrings and a Washington Nationals hat. We're also going out for sushi tonight, which will probably become something of a tradition. I don't like the stuff, but she loves it, so on her birthday we do what she wants. It's only fair.
Not much else is going on, SoSH doesn't seem to be up, so there goes about half of my readership, this past weekend, Aly and I hung out with Ryan and Kristen in Newburyport, went to Anthony's birthday party at Lir (a bar in Boston) and hung out in Amesbury with my parents for father's day.
By now you can probably tell that I have zero to write about and am just throwing a bunch of stuff against the wall to see if it sticks. Unfortunately, not much is happening. So instead of making you read more boring, pointless crap, I'm going to stop.
Talk to you soon.
Monday, June 20, 2005
Presenting Room 19 Comics
It's up.
After months of hype, talk and other crap, I finally got my comics on line. And the cool thing is, I can have my blog as part of it all. I'm really pumped about that.
In any case, this is the first edition of Room 19 Comics, found ironically enough at www.room19comics.com. Let me know what you think.
Every Wednesday, I will be updating the comic site and I'm going to do a bit of explaining of the strip, though it should be able to stand on its own. For example, this strip is a direct rip off of the very first Peanuts cartoon. Check it out here:
Probably not the best way to start out a new career, but I truly was inspired by the best, and I noted that when I said thanks to Charles "Sparky" Shultz in the bottom of the first panel. My hope is that the overall tone of this strip will mirror Shultz' character's mellancholoy of the first few decades or so of Peanuts.
A lot of people hear "Peanuts" and they think Charlie Brown, Snoopy, greeting cards, stuff like that, but before it was licensed, it was a pretty ground breaking strip. In the past, kid strips were all about goofy little problems, such as sharing an ice cream cone or wondering if the tooth fairy will leave you enough cash for your back molar.
Shultz turned this whole idea on its ear by making Charlie Brown and his gang like little adults. They had worries, pathos and insecurities that probably made adults bristle when they first read it. And that's why the strip became so popular. If you ever get the chance pick up the first two years of the Peanuts cartoon, it's in hardback form and there's a forward by John Updike. It's excellent stuff.
Am I saying that my cartoon is going to equal Peanuts in popularity or brilliance? God, I hope so, but it's not going to happen right away. With this web site finally up and running, I am now forcing myself to be more responsible for my creation. If I miss a week, it's my fault now. I have all of the tools and knowledge, it's up to me to make it work. And I will.
So that's where I am, I hope that you enjoy the strips and keep coming back. There's going to be some bumps along the road, but if you stick with me, I'll get better and I promise you'll like the cartoon more too. You can access my Blog on the site (it will be updated every time I update my Blog) and if you feel like it you can also email me. I will also be posting more links soon, so if you have a couple, feel free to send them over.
The one last thing I have to do is offer big thanks to two people: Nick Giordano for putting this whole thing together, on his own time he helped me take a vague idea in my head and transform it into a tangible site. As you can tell, he's done awesome work. Really, it's tremendous. You can check out his site here: www.giordanodesigns.com
Also, I want to thank Aly for pushing me to do this. While the mind was often willing, the flesh was weak, and I do need a kick in the ass on more than one occasion. Thank you very much for providing the inspiration.
After months of hype, talk and other crap, I finally got my comics on line. And the cool thing is, I can have my blog as part of it all. I'm really pumped about that.
In any case, this is the first edition of Room 19 Comics, found ironically enough at www.room19comics.com. Let me know what you think.
Every Wednesday, I will be updating the comic site and I'm going to do a bit of explaining of the strip, though it should be able to stand on its own. For example, this strip is a direct rip off of the very first Peanuts cartoon. Check it out here:
Probably not the best way to start out a new career, but I truly was inspired by the best, and I noted that when I said thanks to Charles "Sparky" Shultz in the bottom of the first panel. My hope is that the overall tone of this strip will mirror Shultz' character's mellancholoy of the first few decades or so of Peanuts.
A lot of people hear "Peanuts" and they think Charlie Brown, Snoopy, greeting cards, stuff like that, but before it was licensed, it was a pretty ground breaking strip. In the past, kid strips were all about goofy little problems, such as sharing an ice cream cone or wondering if the tooth fairy will leave you enough cash for your back molar.
Shultz turned this whole idea on its ear by making Charlie Brown and his gang like little adults. They had worries, pathos and insecurities that probably made adults bristle when they first read it. And that's why the strip became so popular. If you ever get the chance pick up the first two years of the Peanuts cartoon, it's in hardback form and there's a forward by John Updike. It's excellent stuff.
Am I saying that my cartoon is going to equal Peanuts in popularity or brilliance? God, I hope so, but it's not going to happen right away. With this web site finally up and running, I am now forcing myself to be more responsible for my creation. If I miss a week, it's my fault now. I have all of the tools and knowledge, it's up to me to make it work. And I will.
So that's where I am, I hope that you enjoy the strips and keep coming back. There's going to be some bumps along the road, but if you stick with me, I'll get better and I promise you'll like the cartoon more too. You can access my Blog on the site (it will be updated every time I update my Blog) and if you feel like it you can also email me. I will also be posting more links soon, so if you have a couple, feel free to send them over.
The one last thing I have to do is offer big thanks to two people: Nick Giordano for putting this whole thing together, on his own time he helped me take a vague idea in my head and transform it into a tangible site. As you can tell, he's done awesome work. Really, it's tremendous. You can check out his site here: www.giordanodesigns.com
Also, I want to thank Aly for pushing me to do this. While the mind was often willing, the flesh was weak, and I do need a kick in the ass on more than one occasion. Thank you very much for providing the inspiration.
Thursday, June 16, 2005
108th Post Spectacular!
I don't know about spectacular, but I do have a bit of news. Next week, I will finally have my web comic up and running. Nick is supposed to come over on Monday and help me put it up.
I feel conflicted about this:
On one hand I'm really pumped to do this, I've been talking about it for about nine months (it feels like I'm finally having my baby) and this is my first major step on the road to being a real cartoonist.
But on the other hand, it's real. In other words, I can't be fucking around any more and blowing it off. I really have to do it. No more, I'll do it on Saturday or I want to watch the Sox. I have to buckle down and work. And with school, the wedding work, and real life I'm not going to have a lot of time to just dick around.
That may mean that some of my blogging time may be cut back. I know you will all survive, but that's the way it may have to be for a bit. Not sure about that though, I'm sort of just thinking out loud.
Tuesday's class was pretty good, we started our Photoshop class and the professor looks exactly like Larry David from "Curb Your Enthusiasm". I mean exactly. He also talks a bit like him and acts like him. Every time he would open his mouth, I thought he was going to say, "Are you my caucasian? Are you my caucasian?" or "Fuck Huuuuuuuuuuuuugh."
I love that show. When Aly and I cancelled HBO last month, I knew that was the show I was going to miss most, even though there hasn't been a new episode in over a year. That's amazing, how can there not be a new show in over a year? Especially with a program like this? It's well received, the buzz around it is tremendous. I guess Larry David just works when he feels like it.
Must be nice.
Went to the Sox game on Monday night. They played the Reds in Fenway for the first time since 1975 and they won. Eric Milton got his ass handed to him, giving up another couple of homers, including one from Manny that probably shouldn't have been one. Ramirez lofted one towards Pesky's pole and Reds rightfielder Wily Mo Pena went over to make the catch, and the ball was actually in his glove for about three seconds. Then he hit the wall and the ball popped out of his glove. The ump signaled a homer and Manny had his 13th and Matt Clement improved to 7-1.
Before the game, the Sox P.R. staff decided that it would be a good idea to rename the left field foul pole the Pudge Pole after Carlton Fisk's famous dinger in game six of the 1975 series. The Sox haven't really been swinging and missing, but this was a terrible idea. The reason why the name Pesky Pole is so revered is because it just happened. You can't force this kind of manufactured nostalgia on Bostonians (or really anyone in the Northeast) because most of us have a cyncial streak a mile wide and our bullshit detector is finally tuned. This was definitely bullshit.
I finished this book yesterday:
The skinny: I liked it. I didn't love it, but I liked it. I think that if I read this book prior to "DaVinci Code" I would've liked it much more. The reason, to me this was a carbon copy of his previous book (or vice versa).
Essentially, they are the same thing. Both of them take place in less than a day; both of them have a strong, foreign bad guy being manipulated by a powerful, shadowy figure; both have surprise endings (which were actually quite good) as well as other very similar plot points.
Another thing that sort of bugged me was how obvious it was that Robert Langdon was really how Dan Brown sees himself, a dashing, brilliant, ladies-man adventurer. Which is fine, I'm all about literaryly stroking your ego, but in this book, it was way over the top. And I sound like a complete hypocrite, because when I write fiction and use myself as the main character (under a pseudonym of course) I make myself sound and act way cooler than I really am, but this was a bit much.
And Brown is terrible at writing sexy scenes. These were uncomfortable at best, clunky and plodding at worst.
Having said all of that, I did like it. No one will ever confuse this with the great works of the last 500 years, but I do think that Brown has a talent for writing page turners. I enjoy that he gets straight into the action, no fucking around. Bang, first page, someone dies. Within five pages, Langdon gets involved and it goes on from there.
Like the "DaVinci Code", it's obvious Langdon knows his shit, so while in actuality you are reading a simple paperback mystery, you feel a bit smart because you're reading about high felutin' stuff like art and architecture. In his acknowledgements, Brown said that he met with the Pope in order to get info about every day life in the Vatican and it shows, he's a hell of a reporter.
Overall, this was a good read and it captured my attention. Good for you, Mr. Brown.
I feel conflicted about this:
On one hand I'm really pumped to do this, I've been talking about it for about nine months (it feels like I'm finally having my baby) and this is my first major step on the road to being a real cartoonist.
But on the other hand, it's real. In other words, I can't be fucking around any more and blowing it off. I really have to do it. No more, I'll do it on Saturday or I want to watch the Sox. I have to buckle down and work. And with school, the wedding work, and real life I'm not going to have a lot of time to just dick around.
That may mean that some of my blogging time may be cut back. I know you will all survive, but that's the way it may have to be for a bit. Not sure about that though, I'm sort of just thinking out loud.
Tuesday's class was pretty good, we started our Photoshop class and the professor looks exactly like Larry David from "Curb Your Enthusiasm". I mean exactly. He also talks a bit like him and acts like him. Every time he would open his mouth, I thought he was going to say, "Are you my caucasian? Are you my caucasian?" or "Fuck Huuuuuuuuuuuuugh."
I love that show. When Aly and I cancelled HBO last month, I knew that was the show I was going to miss most, even though there hasn't been a new episode in over a year. That's amazing, how can there not be a new show in over a year? Especially with a program like this? It's well received, the buzz around it is tremendous. I guess Larry David just works when he feels like it.
Must be nice.
Went to the Sox game on Monday night. They played the Reds in Fenway for the first time since 1975 and they won. Eric Milton got his ass handed to him, giving up another couple of homers, including one from Manny that probably shouldn't have been one. Ramirez lofted one towards Pesky's pole and Reds rightfielder Wily Mo Pena went over to make the catch, and the ball was actually in his glove for about three seconds. Then he hit the wall and the ball popped out of his glove. The ump signaled a homer and Manny had his 13th and Matt Clement improved to 7-1.
Before the game, the Sox P.R. staff decided that it would be a good idea to rename the left field foul pole the Pudge Pole after Carlton Fisk's famous dinger in game six of the 1975 series. The Sox haven't really been swinging and missing, but this was a terrible idea. The reason why the name Pesky Pole is so revered is because it just happened. You can't force this kind of manufactured nostalgia on Bostonians (or really anyone in the Northeast) because most of us have a cyncial streak a mile wide and our bullshit detector is finally tuned. This was definitely bullshit.
I finished this book yesterday:
The skinny: I liked it. I didn't love it, but I liked it. I think that if I read this book prior to "DaVinci Code" I would've liked it much more. The reason, to me this was a carbon copy of his previous book (or vice versa).
Essentially, they are the same thing. Both of them take place in less than a day; both of them have a strong, foreign bad guy being manipulated by a powerful, shadowy figure; both have surprise endings (which were actually quite good) as well as other very similar plot points.
Another thing that sort of bugged me was how obvious it was that Robert Langdon was really how Dan Brown sees himself, a dashing, brilliant, ladies-man adventurer. Which is fine, I'm all about literaryly stroking your ego, but in this book, it was way over the top. And I sound like a complete hypocrite, because when I write fiction and use myself as the main character (under a pseudonym of course) I make myself sound and act way cooler than I really am, but this was a bit much.
And Brown is terrible at writing sexy scenes. These were uncomfortable at best, clunky and plodding at worst.
Having said all of that, I did like it. No one will ever confuse this with the great works of the last 500 years, but I do think that Brown has a talent for writing page turners. I enjoy that he gets straight into the action, no fucking around. Bang, first page, someone dies. Within five pages, Langdon gets involved and it goes on from there.
Like the "DaVinci Code", it's obvious Langdon knows his shit, so while in actuality you are reading a simple paperback mystery, you feel a bit smart because you're reading about high felutin' stuff like art and architecture. In his acknowledgements, Brown said that he met with the Pope in order to get info about every day life in the Vatican and it shows, he's a hell of a reporter.
Overall, this was a good read and it captured my attention. Good for you, Mr. Brown.
Sunday, June 12, 2005
Quit hasseling me, I've been busy
The title is a bit misleading as no one has been hasseling me about writing in the old blog, but I like the inflation of the ego. During the last two weeks, things have actually picked up to the point that I am actually starting to get a life. I'll let you know about what's been going on as well as a nice essay on the greatest player to ever wear the number eight.
I'm going to go in reverse chronological order.
* Last night we went to Jim and Sarah's housewarming party. And the emphesis was on warm. It had to be about 90 degrees yesterday (and today) and tomorrow is supposed to be 95. Thanks for spring, Mother Nature. Seriously, it went from 40 degrees to 85 in about three days. What the fuck?
In any instance, it was fun over Jim and Sarah's. They have a really awesome house, one that they can stay in for the rest of their lives. Three bedrooms, in a nice town, pretty sizable back yard. They're lucky. Aly and I saw Reddish, Julie, Tom and their baby Katherine. It's been a long time since I saw the last two, so it was cool to catch up. We hung out there for a bit, ate a lot of crackers and cheese, nachos and drank some beer.
On the way home, I didn't really feel very well. I felt like the point I get when I get really drunk and I'm about to pass out. This was odd because I had literally one beer. I think the lack of food (it was about 9:00 and all I had was the cheese, nachos and a salad for lunch) and the heat. I parked the car and walked the mile home, but I am really surprised at how I got there. I was dripping in sweat and it felt like I was sleep walking.
I laid down for a bit, drank a gallon of water and ate some food and felt better. But this had never happened to me before.
* Saturday morning, Aly and I cleared one of the last wedding hurdles: precana. This actually wasn't too bad. We had to go to the Paul Center near the Boston Common. According to the flyer we were originally given class started at 9:30 and we were to get out at 4:00 and they invited us to stick around for Mass at 6:00. So, we thought that we'd be there until 7:00 or so.
Because the T was closed, we had to drive. The normal way we'd go (Storrow Dr.) was closed as well, so we had to go this circuitous route that took about 45 minutes, so we got in there about 20 minutes late. The good thing is that a bunch of other people were all messed up too, so everything started around 10:00. Then the married couple told everyone that they had to leave at 12:30, so the program was being shortened to 2:00. And we had an hour for lunch.
Basically it was three hours. Not too bad. The overall program was cool, it was all talk about finances, sex, kids, shit like that. Aly and I were able to do pretty well on our sheets because we've talked about this stuff ad nauseum. I wouldn't call it a waste of time, but these are all things that you should talk about when you think about getting married.
* Friday I got into a brawl with my landlord. Actually, I should ammend that, our apartment manager. Thursday night we got a letter saying that our rent is being raised $200 per month. I was livid. Here are the reasons why I'm pissed (besides the money):
- She told us in February, when we wanted to sign a year and a half lease, that she wasn't going to raise the rent.
- We saved her $1,000 in April. Basically, she sent us a signed contract that said we didn't have to pay our April rent. When I brought that to her attention, she was telling us how she made a huge mistake, blah, blah. Naturally we didn't want to screw her, so we told her to send us a new contract.
- The Brookline Board of Health has been here three times because of trash.
- There is mold on bedroom ceiling.
- She promised to fix the closet door, she hasn't.
- The grounds in front of our door are a mess.
I told her all of this and she was like, "Well, it's not my fault. I don't control the rent." So I asked her how she could promise us not to increase the rent in February and then tell us in June that she has no control over anything. I was pissed, I really went at her with everything I had: anger, disappointment, everything. She said that she'd call me back, and she did on Saturday. I'm not going to call her until Monday.
* Thursday I went into Boston for the American Physical Therapy Association conference. Pretty standard stuff. The one bummer was that the Scientology people weren't around. I really wanted a stress test.
* I started my first classes on Tuesday. It was just a review of Mac computing. Pretty easy stuff. We also started going over Photoshop. I think I'm really going to love doing this stuff. Also, my work is giving me $2,000 towards school instead of $1,000. I'm really pumped about that, HCPro isn't that bad of a place to work. I'm going to try and incorporate
* This man was elected to Hockey Hall of Fame on Wednesday:
When I began my formative sports years, there were three all-time Kings of Sport for me: Bo Jackson, Michael Jordan and Cam Neely. Bo and Jordan were superb athletes who played in other towns far away from Amesbury. I was lucky if I got to see them 10 times a year, mostly I read about them in Sports Illustrated.
But Cam Neely played in Boston, I was able to watch him every other day from October through May, and sometimes into June. Unlike the previous two athletes, Cam wasn't born with athleticism, he worked very hard at everything. When the Bruins stole him and a draft pick (which turned out to be Glen Wesley) from the Vancouver Canucks for Barry Pederson, everyone said that he was nothing but a bruiser, and they were right.
Neely loved to muck it up. No one was too tough for Cam, and I don't remember him every losing a fight. And he wouldn't just beat people up, he'd kick the shit out of them, and he'd take all the pieces of crap like Claude Lemiuex and just destroy them. Then one off-season Neely decided to work his ass off and turn himself into a goal scorer.
And what a goal sniper he was, in 1994 he scored 50 goals in 49 games and was the first true hockey power forward hanging out at the crease, getting his ass kicked by goalies and defenseman before banging home a rebound (usually a Ray Bourque slapper). He wasn't all brute strength either. I can remember one game against the Ottawa Senators when he was on a break away and did a 360 faking the goalie out of his jock and nailing a top shelfer.
He was magic on skates. He really was.
Then in 1990, Penguins goon Ulf Samuelson cheap shotted Neely messing up his hip. Countless months of therapy were done so Neely could step on the ice and play, but he was never up to his original level and retired in 1986 after 13 seasons. Here's a cool picture (thanks Dirt Dogs) of Neely beating the crap out of Ulf.
In his retirement he has worked tirelessly to battle cancer, but to me he will always be the greatest hockey player I've ever seen. Some will have more talent, but never more tenacity and a will to win. Ask any 30-year-old Massachusetts guy their favorite hockey player and most of them will say Cam Neely.
I'm going to go in reverse chronological order.
* Last night we went to Jim and Sarah's housewarming party. And the emphesis was on warm. It had to be about 90 degrees yesterday (and today) and tomorrow is supposed to be 95. Thanks for spring, Mother Nature. Seriously, it went from 40 degrees to 85 in about three days. What the fuck?
In any instance, it was fun over Jim and Sarah's. They have a really awesome house, one that they can stay in for the rest of their lives. Three bedrooms, in a nice town, pretty sizable back yard. They're lucky. Aly and I saw Reddish, Julie, Tom and their baby Katherine. It's been a long time since I saw the last two, so it was cool to catch up. We hung out there for a bit, ate a lot of crackers and cheese, nachos and drank some beer.
On the way home, I didn't really feel very well. I felt like the point I get when I get really drunk and I'm about to pass out. This was odd because I had literally one beer. I think the lack of food (it was about 9:00 and all I had was the cheese, nachos and a salad for lunch) and the heat. I parked the car and walked the mile home, but I am really surprised at how I got there. I was dripping in sweat and it felt like I was sleep walking.
I laid down for a bit, drank a gallon of water and ate some food and felt better. But this had never happened to me before.
* Saturday morning, Aly and I cleared one of the last wedding hurdles: precana. This actually wasn't too bad. We had to go to the Paul Center near the Boston Common. According to the flyer we were originally given class started at 9:30 and we were to get out at 4:00 and they invited us to stick around for Mass at 6:00. So, we thought that we'd be there until 7:00 or so.
Because the T was closed, we had to drive. The normal way we'd go (Storrow Dr.) was closed as well, so we had to go this circuitous route that took about 45 minutes, so we got in there about 20 minutes late. The good thing is that a bunch of other people were all messed up too, so everything started around 10:00. Then the married couple told everyone that they had to leave at 12:30, so the program was being shortened to 2:00. And we had an hour for lunch.
Basically it was three hours. Not too bad. The overall program was cool, it was all talk about finances, sex, kids, shit like that. Aly and I were able to do pretty well on our sheets because we've talked about this stuff ad nauseum. I wouldn't call it a waste of time, but these are all things that you should talk about when you think about getting married.
* Friday I got into a brawl with my landlord. Actually, I should ammend that, our apartment manager. Thursday night we got a letter saying that our rent is being raised $200 per month. I was livid. Here are the reasons why I'm pissed (besides the money):
- She told us in February, when we wanted to sign a year and a half lease, that she wasn't going to raise the rent.
- We saved her $1,000 in April. Basically, she sent us a signed contract that said we didn't have to pay our April rent. When I brought that to her attention, she was telling us how she made a huge mistake, blah, blah. Naturally we didn't want to screw her, so we told her to send us a new contract.
- The Brookline Board of Health has been here three times because of trash.
- There is mold on bedroom ceiling.
- She promised to fix the closet door, she hasn't.
- The grounds in front of our door are a mess.
I told her all of this and she was like, "Well, it's not my fault. I don't control the rent." So I asked her how she could promise us not to increase the rent in February and then tell us in June that she has no control over anything. I was pissed, I really went at her with everything I had: anger, disappointment, everything. She said that she'd call me back, and she did on Saturday. I'm not going to call her until Monday.
* Thursday I went into Boston for the American Physical Therapy Association conference. Pretty standard stuff. The one bummer was that the Scientology people weren't around. I really wanted a stress test.
* I started my first classes on Tuesday. It was just a review of Mac computing. Pretty easy stuff. We also started going over Photoshop. I think I'm really going to love doing this stuff. Also, my work is giving me $2,000 towards school instead of $1,000. I'm really pumped about that, HCPro isn't that bad of a place to work. I'm going to try and incorporate
* This man was elected to Hockey Hall of Fame on Wednesday:
When I began my formative sports years, there were three all-time Kings of Sport for me: Bo Jackson, Michael Jordan and Cam Neely. Bo and Jordan were superb athletes who played in other towns far away from Amesbury. I was lucky if I got to see them 10 times a year, mostly I read about them in Sports Illustrated.
But Cam Neely played in Boston, I was able to watch him every other day from October through May, and sometimes into June. Unlike the previous two athletes, Cam wasn't born with athleticism, he worked very hard at everything. When the Bruins stole him and a draft pick (which turned out to be Glen Wesley) from the Vancouver Canucks for Barry Pederson, everyone said that he was nothing but a bruiser, and they were right.
Neely loved to muck it up. No one was too tough for Cam, and I don't remember him every losing a fight. And he wouldn't just beat people up, he'd kick the shit out of them, and he'd take all the pieces of crap like Claude Lemiuex and just destroy them. Then one off-season Neely decided to work his ass off and turn himself into a goal scorer.
And what a goal sniper he was, in 1994 he scored 50 goals in 49 games and was the first true hockey power forward hanging out at the crease, getting his ass kicked by goalies and defenseman before banging home a rebound (usually a Ray Bourque slapper). He wasn't all brute strength either. I can remember one game against the Ottawa Senators when he was on a break away and did a 360 faking the goalie out of his jock and nailing a top shelfer.
He was magic on skates. He really was.
Then in 1990, Penguins goon Ulf Samuelson cheap shotted Neely messing up his hip. Countless months of therapy were done so Neely could step on the ice and play, but he was never up to his original level and retired in 1986 after 13 seasons. Here's a cool picture (thanks Dirt Dogs) of Neely beating the crap out of Ulf.
In his retirement he has worked tirelessly to battle cancer, but to me he will always be the greatest hockey player I've ever seen. Some will have more talent, but never more tenacity and a will to win. Ask any 30-year-old Massachusetts guy their favorite hockey player and most of them will say Cam Neely.
Wednesday, June 08, 2005
Reason one to hate Marblehead and other things
In the interest of fairness, before I begin this post, I have to divulge that I've worked in Marblehead for almost five years and have never really felt comfortable in the town since day one. Nobody has really said anything, but any time you go into a store or restaurant the locals always give you an attitude that says, "We know that you don't live here, so eat (or buy whatever) and get the hell out."
Yesterday I was in the local Richdale and there were a few kids in there and two guys probably in their mid 50s or so (maybe a shade older). I was getting a soda and some chips in the back of the store when one of the old guys just starts yelling at the clerk. "How can you serve these kids in here? Who the hell do you think you are? Why aren't you calling the school? You're a disgrace."
He then left leaving the clerk, the kids and the rest of the customers perplexed. I know the clerk a bit, enough to say hello and ask how he's doing, so I didn't feel weird to ask him what had just happened. He said that the guy just started screaming at him to call the school on the teens in the store because "there is no open campus."
I asked him why the guy did that and he told me that he thought it was because of his skin color. The clerk is either Indian or Pakistani, yes the Simpsons cliche of Apu plays out albeit without the robberies, and he was getting upset as he explained what happened.
"If I was your color or the color of the kids, I'd hear nothing. But that guy thinks because I look like I do, he can give me a hard time. And this isn't the first time it happened."
I truly felt sorry for him, because as much as I think I get the evil eye when I'm buying stuff in the down town area, this guy must get it ten times worse. And when you think about it, what the fuck does Marblehead have to be so damn smarmy about?
Yes, they have a nice stretch of ocean and beach, but they aren't Cape Cod or the Hamptons. They're in the middle of a blue-collar ring arond the town, boardering on Salem and Peabody and parts of Swampscott. Never mind the fact that they're within ten miles of Revere, Lynn and Everett. Their biggest hero, cyclist Tyler Hamilton, is a cheat who should probably give back his Olympic medal, which he won with the help of blood doping and Lance Armstrong not entering the games.
The guy who mans Richdale probably works 14 hours a day, every day and this isn't an easy job, yet here is a guy in his 50s on a Tuesday afternoon yelling at him that he should "do his job". Unbelievable. The day that I leave my job, I'll leave Marblehead for good and never return.
Today wasn't a bad day at all, I worked half a day and then had to be in Boston to set up for the American Physical Therapy Association show at the Hynes Convention Center. I came home around 1:30 ate some grub, did a little work on the computer and then went in to town.
I had to go into the Hynes T stop on the way home and saw that the good people of Scientology have set up a booth to get people to try and convert to their way of thinking through "Free Stress Tests!" If all of the Scientologists weren't busy with converts, I was seriously considering going over and seeing what kind of spiel they sing in order to get someone to come to their side.
Their man, L. Ron Hubbard, was a frustrated sci-fi writer before he came up with Dianetics, the cornerstone of the religion. Why someone would place their faith (and money) into his hands, I have no idea. Maybe tomorrow I will find out.
Also coming tomorrow, my initial reaction to the first week of class and some thoughts on recent comic strips. Peace.
Yesterday I was in the local Richdale and there were a few kids in there and two guys probably in their mid 50s or so (maybe a shade older). I was getting a soda and some chips in the back of the store when one of the old guys just starts yelling at the clerk. "How can you serve these kids in here? Who the hell do you think you are? Why aren't you calling the school? You're a disgrace."
He then left leaving the clerk, the kids and the rest of the customers perplexed. I know the clerk a bit, enough to say hello and ask how he's doing, so I didn't feel weird to ask him what had just happened. He said that the guy just started screaming at him to call the school on the teens in the store because "there is no open campus."
I asked him why the guy did that and he told me that he thought it was because of his skin color. The clerk is either Indian or Pakistani, yes the Simpsons cliche of Apu plays out albeit without the robberies, and he was getting upset as he explained what happened.
"If I was your color or the color of the kids, I'd hear nothing. But that guy thinks because I look like I do, he can give me a hard time. And this isn't the first time it happened."
I truly felt sorry for him, because as much as I think I get the evil eye when I'm buying stuff in the down town area, this guy must get it ten times worse. And when you think about it, what the fuck does Marblehead have to be so damn smarmy about?
Yes, they have a nice stretch of ocean and beach, but they aren't Cape Cod or the Hamptons. They're in the middle of a blue-collar ring arond the town, boardering on Salem and Peabody and parts of Swampscott. Never mind the fact that they're within ten miles of Revere, Lynn and Everett. Their biggest hero, cyclist Tyler Hamilton, is a cheat who should probably give back his Olympic medal, which he won with the help of blood doping and Lance Armstrong not entering the games.
The guy who mans Richdale probably works 14 hours a day, every day and this isn't an easy job, yet here is a guy in his 50s on a Tuesday afternoon yelling at him that he should "do his job". Unbelievable. The day that I leave my job, I'll leave Marblehead for good and never return.
Today wasn't a bad day at all, I worked half a day and then had to be in Boston to set up for the American Physical Therapy Association show at the Hynes Convention Center. I came home around 1:30 ate some grub, did a little work on the computer and then went in to town.
I had to go into the Hynes T stop on the way home and saw that the good people of Scientology have set up a booth to get people to try and convert to their way of thinking through "Free Stress Tests!" If all of the Scientologists weren't busy with converts, I was seriously considering going over and seeing what kind of spiel they sing in order to get someone to come to their side.
Their man, L. Ron Hubbard, was a frustrated sci-fi writer before he came up with Dianetics, the cornerstone of the religion. Why someone would place their faith (and money) into his hands, I have no idea. Maybe tomorrow I will find out.
Also coming tomorrow, my initial reaction to the first week of class and some thoughts on recent comic strips. Peace.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
Aquaman says, "KISS off!"
The other day I got an email in my Yahoo! account, I'll let you read it.
With the letter, I guess I have no choice but to let the Crowned Price of the Deep have his say.
Hi everyone, it's me, your old buddy Aquaman here, sitting in my deep sea lair writing about the coolest night I've ever had. Aqualad and I (see our pictures above this paragraph!) were able to get two tickets to the greatest rock concert ever ... KISS! Yes, THE Kiss. Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Peter Criss and Ace Frehley (sort of) all live and in person on stage in front of us.
I had Aqualad wait in line for three days, even though he didn't have to camp out I thought that he should, it will teach the boy persistence and he picked up the duckets. Two sweet seats, sort of far back, but close enough so that we can hear the best band ever.
Check out this pic I nabbed with my camera, Paul (who is my favorite) is poutingly telling us that we drive him wild, but he drives us crazy! LOL!
Anyway the day of the concert, Aqualad and I jumped on our seahorses, filled up the cooler with Zimas for AL and fuzzy navel ingredients for me and made our way to the fair grounds. Luckily, it was near an inlet, so we can hitch up our horses and then start tailgating.
Aqualad is a puss and doesn't really keep up with Kiss that much, so he was mad when I told him that Mark St. John or Bruce Kulick weren't going to be there. I also told him that his Vinnie Vincent makeup that he painted on his face is going to look a little stupid since he was fired from the band 20 years ago. "Well, I hope that they play something from 'Crazy Nights' or 'Hot in the Shade'," he said. I just had to laugh, because I knew he was going to die, (when he figured out that they won't be playing anything from those albums).
After the four-hour ride--honestly the Aquascooter would've been better for this 2 mile trek--we were ready for some frosty beverages. We picked a spot next to two hot chicks and Aqualad mixed my drink while I stepped to two gals.
"Ladies," I said, by the way, I was wearing Paul Stanley makeup, so I knew I had a good shot to get some trim. "The Starchild is here!"
They probably didn't realize that I was a SuperFriend because they just looked at me and laughed. "Paul Stanley is a fag," one of them said after blowing smoke from a Marlboro Red in my face. "And you better get out of here before our boyfriends come back from the Portapotty. They'll kick your ass just for looking at us."
"Baby, aren't you feeling good? Because baby I am feeling NICE," I said hoping that quoting a key KISS lyric would get them in the mood. "My friend here has just finished making me a strong Fuzzy Navel and he has a few Zimas if you all care to par-tay."
For some reason, this made the big-haired, acid washed jeans ladies of the night laugh even more. "Fuzzy navels? Zimas? I ain't had that shit since 'Smashes, Thrashes and Hits' came out. You really must be gay," said the blonde one as she flung a lit cigarette at me.
Luckily for her, I had just poured four Fuzzy Navels into my KISS beer bong as she did this, and was able to deftly avoid it. Despite some interference, the old AM is still able to pound the booze.
"You are obviously whores and the StarChild and the Wizard (as Vinnie Vincent was called) will not be quaffing libations with you pasty faced bitches," I said.
All of a sudden I felt a large hand on my shoulder, their boyfriends had returned in time to hear my slanderous putdown. "Who you calling a bitch, bitch?"
Remembering that I had to be nice, I tried to talk my way out of this mess.
"Sorry, did I say bitch? I meant slut. Look at them, one of them has never seen a Twinkee that she hasn't liked and the other thinks that 1989 never ended. You and your Old Milwaukee drinking, pork rind eating, no deodorant using friend have made poor choices in finding a mate. Now good day, Sir."
I felt a blow to the back of my head.
Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the four fuzzy navels that I funneled, maybe it was really nothing, but in any event I turned around and cold-cocked the fucker. BAM! Blood and snot went everywhere, the guy even fell out of his wheelchair.
Aqualad was in shock and sort of stood there, but no matter, I climbed over the wheelchair and went for his buddy, who was trying to hobble his way into the car. Too bad crutches make for poor instruments of retreat. I grabbed one of the crutches and smashed him on the back of the head, "How do you like that, bitch? Huh? You like that?" I kept hitting him.
The girls were running and screaming, "Call the cops! Call my parents! Call the home!"
Call my parents? These douchewhistles weren't so tough when the chips were down, were they? After the crutch-bound jerkface was down, I picked up both of his walking instruments and threw them at their women, nailing each of them square in the back. Both went down, one crushed her callostamy bag, the other's back brace slammed into the back of her head. Two birds, two stones, how's that for awesomeness?
"See that twats," I asked. "All you have to do is be nice. We're at a KISS concert, everyone should be nice, but noooooooooo, you had to be bitches. Well, you plant sea cucumbers, you get sea cucumbers."
At this point, a large crowd of people had gathered, they were horrified by what happened. I turned to Aqualad, "Make me another drink and lets go in. The show's about to start."
We downed a few more drinks and walked into the concert. I don't remember too much about but during, "King of the Nightime World" a battalion of the cops came to our section and grabbed two guys dressed as Vinnie Vincent and Paul Stanley. As they were beating them about the heads with batons, one shrieked, "What did we do?"
The cop answered, "You murdered four retards and we have the witnesses to prove it. You're going away for a long time!"
See that? That's karma my friends, I tried to be nice and something nice happened to me. Aquaman out!
Dear Douchebag,
Ever since my trial, I've been trying to prove to the surface world that I'm a nice guy. I really am, I don't know why they fuck none of you shitsmellers will believe me. In any event, to prove that I'm a good guy, I want to tell your reader (or is it readers? I forget. Ha, just joking.) about the normal things I do. Let me do it, or I will smash your house boat. And if you don't have one, I'll buy you one, wait until you get settled on it and the smash the crap out of it.
Love,
Aquaman
With the letter, I guess I have no choice but to let the Crowned Price of the Deep have his say.
Hi everyone, it's me, your old buddy Aquaman here, sitting in my deep sea lair writing about the coolest night I've ever had. Aqualad and I (see our pictures above this paragraph!) were able to get two tickets to the greatest rock concert ever ... KISS! Yes, THE Kiss. Gene Simmons, Paul Stanley, Peter Criss and Ace Frehley (sort of) all live and in person on stage in front of us.
I had Aqualad wait in line for three days, even though he didn't have to camp out I thought that he should, it will teach the boy persistence and he picked up the duckets. Two sweet seats, sort of far back, but close enough so that we can hear the best band ever.
Check out this pic I nabbed with my camera, Paul (who is my favorite) is poutingly telling us that we drive him wild, but he drives us crazy! LOL!
Anyway the day of the concert, Aqualad and I jumped on our seahorses, filled up the cooler with Zimas for AL and fuzzy navel ingredients for me and made our way to the fair grounds. Luckily, it was near an inlet, so we can hitch up our horses and then start tailgating.
Aqualad is a puss and doesn't really keep up with Kiss that much, so he was mad when I told him that Mark St. John or Bruce Kulick weren't going to be there. I also told him that his Vinnie Vincent makeup that he painted on his face is going to look a little stupid since he was fired from the band 20 years ago. "Well, I hope that they play something from 'Crazy Nights' or 'Hot in the Shade'," he said. I just had to laugh, because I knew he was going to die, (when he figured out that they won't be playing anything from those albums).
After the four-hour ride--honestly the Aquascooter would've been better for this 2 mile trek--we were ready for some frosty beverages. We picked a spot next to two hot chicks and Aqualad mixed my drink while I stepped to two gals.
"Ladies," I said, by the way, I was wearing Paul Stanley makeup, so I knew I had a good shot to get some trim. "The Starchild is here!"
They probably didn't realize that I was a SuperFriend because they just looked at me and laughed. "Paul Stanley is a fag," one of them said after blowing smoke from a Marlboro Red in my face. "And you better get out of here before our boyfriends come back from the Portapotty. They'll kick your ass just for looking at us."
"Baby, aren't you feeling good? Because baby I am feeling NICE," I said hoping that quoting a key KISS lyric would get them in the mood. "My friend here has just finished making me a strong Fuzzy Navel and he has a few Zimas if you all care to par-tay."
For some reason, this made the big-haired, acid washed jeans ladies of the night laugh even more. "Fuzzy navels? Zimas? I ain't had that shit since 'Smashes, Thrashes and Hits' came out. You really must be gay," said the blonde one as she flung a lit cigarette at me.
Luckily for her, I had just poured four Fuzzy Navels into my KISS beer bong as she did this, and was able to deftly avoid it. Despite some interference, the old AM is still able to pound the booze.
"You are obviously whores and the StarChild and the Wizard (as Vinnie Vincent was called) will not be quaffing libations with you pasty faced bitches," I said.
All of a sudden I felt a large hand on my shoulder, their boyfriends had returned in time to hear my slanderous putdown. "Who you calling a bitch, bitch?"
Remembering that I had to be nice, I tried to talk my way out of this mess.
"Sorry, did I say bitch? I meant slut. Look at them, one of them has never seen a Twinkee that she hasn't liked and the other thinks that 1989 never ended. You and your Old Milwaukee drinking, pork rind eating, no deodorant using friend have made poor choices in finding a mate. Now good day, Sir."
I felt a blow to the back of my head.
Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the four fuzzy navels that I funneled, maybe it was really nothing, but in any event I turned around and cold-cocked the fucker. BAM! Blood and snot went everywhere, the guy even fell out of his wheelchair.
Aqualad was in shock and sort of stood there, but no matter, I climbed over the wheelchair and went for his buddy, who was trying to hobble his way into the car. Too bad crutches make for poor instruments of retreat. I grabbed one of the crutches and smashed him on the back of the head, "How do you like that, bitch? Huh? You like that?" I kept hitting him.
The girls were running and screaming, "Call the cops! Call my parents! Call the home!"
Call my parents? These douchewhistles weren't so tough when the chips were down, were they? After the crutch-bound jerkface was down, I picked up both of his walking instruments and threw them at their women, nailing each of them square in the back. Both went down, one crushed her callostamy bag, the other's back brace slammed into the back of her head. Two birds, two stones, how's that for awesomeness?
"See that twats," I asked. "All you have to do is be nice. We're at a KISS concert, everyone should be nice, but noooooooooo, you had to be bitches. Well, you plant sea cucumbers, you get sea cucumbers."
At this point, a large crowd of people had gathered, they were horrified by what happened. I turned to Aqualad, "Make me another drink and lets go in. The show's about to start."
We downed a few more drinks and walked into the concert. I don't remember too much about but during, "King of the Nightime World" a battalion of the cops came to our section and grabbed two guys dressed as Vinnie Vincent and Paul Stanley. As they were beating them about the heads with batons, one shrieked, "What did we do?"
The cop answered, "You murdered four retards and we have the witnesses to prove it. You're going away for a long time!"
See that? That's karma my friends, I tried to be nice and something nice happened to me. Aquaman out!
Thursday, June 02, 2005
God has a name ...
And it's David Ortiz.
(Thanks to bostondirtdogs.com for the pic)
The Sox have been playing about .500 for the last two or three weeks, and worse than that, they've been playing without any spark. They'd win one, lose one, win two in a row, lose three in a row, sunrise, sunset. Today, they were on the verge of losing a tough game to the first-place Baltimore Orioles.
The O's scored one in the ninth to break a 3-3 deadlock and their ace closer, BJ Ryan was coming in from the pen. It looked like a typical Sox loss, twice bases loaded opportunities went by the board, Matt Clement pitched ok but not great and Ketih Foulke looked snakebit. But something happened, Mark Bellhorn singles, Kevin Youkilis Ks and then Edgar Renteria bunts for a hit. Men on first and second and up steps Big Papi.
He runs the count to 3-2 and then unloads a lazer into the blacked-out seat section of the bleachers. Just a tremendous clout. Game over, enjoy the ride home. Here's the thing about walkoff homers and Ortiz, he's done it five times in his brief (a little over two years) Sox career. FIVE TIMES, and did the deed twice in last year's playoffs.
Though I may not understand every single statstic, I lean towards the Sabremetrician way of thinking, mostly that stats are the best indicator of how good a ball player really is, but Ortiz is a man that comes along once a generation. For some uncanny reason, this dude just has a flair for the dramatic especially on the big stages. I doubt that there is any real way of proving how "clutch" someone is, but if there was Ortiz would have to be off the charts.
Basball is a funny game as it's amazing to me that this guy was once fighting for playing time behind Jeremy Giambi. Now he's in the upper echelon of power hitters, a couple more ding-dong Johnsons like this one (and the two he hit on Sunday at Yankee Stadium) and Ortiz will be staring at the 2005 American League Most Valuable Player award.
On the Boston Sports Media board, someone compared Ortiz to Tom Brady, and I have to agree. More often than not, this guy doesn't just rise to the occasion, he stands the fuck up and knocks the occasion on its ass. With last year's departure of Pedro Martinez, I believe that I have found a new favorite player, and his name is David Ortiz.
I just finished reading this tome on the flight home from Atlanta:
In April of 1992 I was trying to plow through "Helter Skelter", get off the baseball bench and figure out how to nail Leah Murphy without Rebecca Donahue knowing. During this time, other people were planning real adventures with their lives. One of these people was a person by the name of Christopher McCandless aka Alexander Supertramp.
Two years previous, McCandless graduated Atlanta's Emory University, told his parents that he's going to take "some time off" and began an adventure that most people only dream of. Did I mention that McCandless decided to leave all trappings of society behind him? He took the $24,000 he had in his savings account and donated it to a hunger relief organization, abandoned his car and most of his possessions in an Arizona desert and just began living the life of a nomad.
All along the west coast, McCandless hitched from one experience to the next. He lived in a few comunes, worked at a grain elevator in South Dakota, a McDonalds in San Diego and just wandered. Inspired by Emerson and Tolstoy he decided it was time for the "ultimate adventure", he was going up to Alaska to live in the wilderness with nothing more than a book on edible plants, a really crappy gun, a travel fishing pole, some books and the clothes on his back.
He never made it out alive.
Krakauer tries to piece together a few things in this book:
1. Why did McCandless do this?
2. What happened to the guy, how did he really die?
3. Why does Krakauer feel such an attachment to McCandless?
The writer does a terrific job with the first two questions. Drawing on McCandless' friends, family and people that picked him up while hitch hiking, we are able to get a good picture of what drove this upper-middle class into the wilderness. From McCandless' diaries and snapshots, Krakauer was able to piece together the last few days of his life, especially the agonizing way that he died.
The final question is where the book gets a little soupy, it's pretty obvious that Krakauer ran into a wall with the book's subject, he originally had written this tale as a story for Outdoor magazine, and it seems like he needed to fill up a few chapters. In order to do this, he wrote one chapter about the other famous men who were lost and presumed dead in the Pacific Northwest (which was really interesting) and a chapter about him trying to climb Devil's Thumb in Alaska.
This wasn't too bad, but it was sort of clummisily written. While it gave a first-hand account of the perserverance that McCandless needed, it was also melodramatic and seemed to plod along. Plus, I wanted to find out more about McCandless.
All in all, this was a fascinating book about what goes through someone's mind when they just have enough of modern life and decide to move to the sticks. At one point or another, every man has wanted to do it, but it's much harder than it looks. If you aren't well prepared and always careful, you can wind up dead, which might be the escape that McCandless was actually looking for.
(Thanks to bostondirtdogs.com for the pic)
The Sox have been playing about .500 for the last two or three weeks, and worse than that, they've been playing without any spark. They'd win one, lose one, win two in a row, lose three in a row, sunrise, sunset. Today, they were on the verge of losing a tough game to the first-place Baltimore Orioles.
The O's scored one in the ninth to break a 3-3 deadlock and their ace closer, BJ Ryan was coming in from the pen. It looked like a typical Sox loss, twice bases loaded opportunities went by the board, Matt Clement pitched ok but not great and Ketih Foulke looked snakebit. But something happened, Mark Bellhorn singles, Kevin Youkilis Ks and then Edgar Renteria bunts for a hit. Men on first and second and up steps Big Papi.
He runs the count to 3-2 and then unloads a lazer into the blacked-out seat section of the bleachers. Just a tremendous clout. Game over, enjoy the ride home. Here's the thing about walkoff homers and Ortiz, he's done it five times in his brief (a little over two years) Sox career. FIVE TIMES, and did the deed twice in last year's playoffs.
Though I may not understand every single statstic, I lean towards the Sabremetrician way of thinking, mostly that stats are the best indicator of how good a ball player really is, but Ortiz is a man that comes along once a generation. For some uncanny reason, this dude just has a flair for the dramatic especially on the big stages. I doubt that there is any real way of proving how "clutch" someone is, but if there was Ortiz would have to be off the charts.
Basball is a funny game as it's amazing to me that this guy was once fighting for playing time behind Jeremy Giambi. Now he's in the upper echelon of power hitters, a couple more ding-dong Johnsons like this one (and the two he hit on Sunday at Yankee Stadium) and Ortiz will be staring at the 2005 American League Most Valuable Player award.
On the Boston Sports Media board, someone compared Ortiz to Tom Brady, and I have to agree. More often than not, this guy doesn't just rise to the occasion, he stands the fuck up and knocks the occasion on its ass. With last year's departure of Pedro Martinez, I believe that I have found a new favorite player, and his name is David Ortiz.
I just finished reading this tome on the flight home from Atlanta:
In April of 1992 I was trying to plow through "Helter Skelter", get off the baseball bench and figure out how to nail Leah Murphy without Rebecca Donahue knowing. During this time, other people were planning real adventures with their lives. One of these people was a person by the name of Christopher McCandless aka Alexander Supertramp.
Two years previous, McCandless graduated Atlanta's Emory University, told his parents that he's going to take "some time off" and began an adventure that most people only dream of. Did I mention that McCandless decided to leave all trappings of society behind him? He took the $24,000 he had in his savings account and donated it to a hunger relief organization, abandoned his car and most of his possessions in an Arizona desert and just began living the life of a nomad.
All along the west coast, McCandless hitched from one experience to the next. He lived in a few comunes, worked at a grain elevator in South Dakota, a McDonalds in San Diego and just wandered. Inspired by Emerson and Tolstoy he decided it was time for the "ultimate adventure", he was going up to Alaska to live in the wilderness with nothing more than a book on edible plants, a really crappy gun, a travel fishing pole, some books and the clothes on his back.
He never made it out alive.
Krakauer tries to piece together a few things in this book:
1. Why did McCandless do this?
2. What happened to the guy, how did he really die?
3. Why does Krakauer feel such an attachment to McCandless?
The writer does a terrific job with the first two questions. Drawing on McCandless' friends, family and people that picked him up while hitch hiking, we are able to get a good picture of what drove this upper-middle class into the wilderness. From McCandless' diaries and snapshots, Krakauer was able to piece together the last few days of his life, especially the agonizing way that he died.
The final question is where the book gets a little soupy, it's pretty obvious that Krakauer ran into a wall with the book's subject, he originally had written this tale as a story for Outdoor magazine, and it seems like he needed to fill up a few chapters. In order to do this, he wrote one chapter about the other famous men who were lost and presumed dead in the Pacific Northwest (which was really interesting) and a chapter about him trying to climb Devil's Thumb in Alaska.
This wasn't too bad, but it was sort of clummisily written. While it gave a first-hand account of the perserverance that McCandless needed, it was also melodramatic and seemed to plod along. Plus, I wanted to find out more about McCandless.
All in all, this was a fascinating book about what goes through someone's mind when they just have enough of modern life and decide to move to the sticks. At one point or another, every man has wanted to do it, but it's much harder than it looks. If you aren't well prepared and always careful, you can wind up dead, which might be the escape that McCandless was actually looking for.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
Coming back from Atlanta
I was down South for a couple of days, did you miss me? I'm sure that you did. The reason for the sojourn to Dixie? Aly's niece, Samantha, was getting baptised. This meant that the whole Manasso brood was to descend on Atlanta like Sherman, destroying everything in our paths until we got to the ocean.
Ok. Not really, but there was a bunch of us: Aly, me, Lauren and Bob, Jackie and Roy plus John's wife Christie's family. It was quite a Yankee (Northern folk, not the damned team from New York) army down there. We landed on Saturday, said some pleasantries and went to the greatest store in the world, Distant Replays.
I know I wrote about this place last year, but it bears repeating, this place is like a museum where you can buy the aritifacts. I got a t-shirt with this logo on it:
I think it's pretty damn cool, but Aly hates it. I also nabbed a mid 80s Houston Astros hat. Maybe it will bring the Sox the luck that my 1986 Seattle Mariners hat brought to the team last year. This is what it looks like:
Following that we went back to John and Christie's house where they had a barbeque waiting. Good stuff, John made his own sausage and also had hot dogs and burgers grilling up. We sat around for most of the night eating, drinking beers, swapping stories until we decided to head over to the Brick Store Pub.
This place was really cool, check it out here:
Brick Store Pub
There is a flash presentation, but it's ok. Just wait the 15 seconds. They don't have many American beers, the only states stuff is microbrews, but they have a ton of European brews. I tried a Paulaner, and while I probably won't buy a six pack of the stuff soon, it wasn't too bad. I then had a couple pints of the old standby, Guiness.
The cool thing is that each beer came in it's own glass. I wanted to nab the Paulaner one, but I just had nowhere to put it. Next time.
On Sunday, we had the Christening to go to. Standard church stuff, the priest was from Slovakia, so much of his homily/service was tough to understand, but he seemed like a good enough guy. Joey was a little rambunctious, and there was a bit of drama, but all in all, it was a fine time.
When we got back to the house, the caterers were already there. And it was Mexican food. I ate like a damn pig, but I didn't give a shit, the food was that good. Man, I wish we can cater our wedding with Mexican food. Maybe next time I'll marry a Mexican chick.
We were all beat from staying up late, so we went back to the hotel room and watched the Sox lay the smack down on the Yanks 8-2, this the day after thoroughly whipping them 17-1. Not a bad way to spend a weekend in the Bronx.
Monday, we did nothing. We rented, "Meet the Fockers", it blew. Everyone in the flick didn't act, they sped read their lines and slept walked through the entire movie. It was obvious they were in it for the cash.
And then on Tuesday we left. If it seems like we didn't do much, it's because we didn't. It was very relaxing and that was part of the reason why we had such a good time. More tomorrow.
Ok. Not really, but there was a bunch of us: Aly, me, Lauren and Bob, Jackie and Roy plus John's wife Christie's family. It was quite a Yankee (Northern folk, not the damned team from New York) army down there. We landed on Saturday, said some pleasantries and went to the greatest store in the world, Distant Replays.
I know I wrote about this place last year, but it bears repeating, this place is like a museum where you can buy the aritifacts. I got a t-shirt with this logo on it:
I think it's pretty damn cool, but Aly hates it. I also nabbed a mid 80s Houston Astros hat. Maybe it will bring the Sox the luck that my 1986 Seattle Mariners hat brought to the team last year. This is what it looks like:
Following that we went back to John and Christie's house where they had a barbeque waiting. Good stuff, John made his own sausage and also had hot dogs and burgers grilling up. We sat around for most of the night eating, drinking beers, swapping stories until we decided to head over to the Brick Store Pub.
This place was really cool, check it out here:
Brick Store Pub
There is a flash presentation, but it's ok. Just wait the 15 seconds. They don't have many American beers, the only states stuff is microbrews, but they have a ton of European brews. I tried a Paulaner, and while I probably won't buy a six pack of the stuff soon, it wasn't too bad. I then had a couple pints of the old standby, Guiness.
The cool thing is that each beer came in it's own glass. I wanted to nab the Paulaner one, but I just had nowhere to put it. Next time.
On Sunday, we had the Christening to go to. Standard church stuff, the priest was from Slovakia, so much of his homily/service was tough to understand, but he seemed like a good enough guy. Joey was a little rambunctious, and there was a bit of drama, but all in all, it was a fine time.
When we got back to the house, the caterers were already there. And it was Mexican food. I ate like a damn pig, but I didn't give a shit, the food was that good. Man, I wish we can cater our wedding with Mexican food. Maybe next time I'll marry a Mexican chick.
We were all beat from staying up late, so we went back to the hotel room and watched the Sox lay the smack down on the Yanks 8-2, this the day after thoroughly whipping them 17-1. Not a bad way to spend a weekend in the Bronx.
Monday, we did nothing. We rented, "Meet the Fockers", it blew. Everyone in the flick didn't act, they sped read their lines and slept walked through the entire movie. It was obvious they were in it for the cash.
And then on Tuesday we left. If it seems like we didn't do much, it's because we didn't. It was very relaxing and that was part of the reason why we had such a good time. More tomorrow.
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