Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Talking to My TV

KEN JENNINGS FINALLY LOST!!!! I can watch Jeopardy again!! I know, he seems like a nice enough guy, but geez it's good to see other people answering for a change.

And Rory, if you're going to be an idiot and can't see what a great guy Marty is, can I have him? I know he's like a fictional Gilmore Girls character and a college-aged one at that, but guys like him weren't exactly roaming the UD campus. But women are usually only dumb enough to ignore a guy like that on television. In real life, he'd be dating like three girls with 17 others stalking him. It's the way of the world when it comes to decent, cute guys.

Argh

I'm ready to kick Blogger's ass because its been giving me trouble all day today and yesterday with responding to comments. And posting. And editing posts. I just wish they'd kept the old blasted format and called it a day.

Stop Calling Me Shirley

So in keeping with countdown theme today, AFI recently put up their nominees for top 100 Movie Quotes (here in PDF format) and it's pretty thought provoking.

We had a blast during Liana's b-day dinner last week trying to figure out what would be on the list -- so much so that we'd be talking about something different hours later and someone would go "Hey! What about..." starting the think tank all over again. Seriously, the next time you're out with your friends start rattling off your favorite quotes and I guarantee they'll probably be on the list of nominations.

My thought for winner? "Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn." Which, as I learned in a making-of-Gone With the Wind special, was almost censored because it was deemed too saucy or something with the word "damn" in it.

My personal fave? "You're gonna need a bigger boat." Though it is fun to trot out "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine" every now and then...

Judging a Book...



You know, when I heard Stephen King was journaling his experiences at Red Sox games like I do at Yankee games, I was all "Well, great minds think alike." Because I respect people who really are faithful to their teams and like Harry Potter and write because they love it and shit. Then he wore the Yankee Hater hat. And now he and his compatriot publish the book with this cover. Yep, the brawl starter Varitek getting all manly and tough in his full catcher's equipment against A-Rod. You couldn't show the Red Sox fans or the team winning or something?

In short, shut up, Stephen King's book cover.

Opening Day, where art thou?

Because You Know I Love a Countdown

So I finally got around to checking out Rolling Stone's top 500 rock and roll songs of all time list, and wanting to see if I live up to Rolling Stone's idea of rock awesomeness, I checked off the songs I have on the iPod. Which I will share here with you. And there were about 50 songs I have on CD but haven't loaded onto the iPod yet. I guess I have a little less than a quarter of the songs when all is said and done. Therefore, I am probably not awesome. But who cares -- they left off some good stuff, so maybe they're the ones lacking in awesomeness.

Dream On, Aerosmith

Sweet Emotion, Aerosmith

Money (That's What I Want), Barrett Strong

California Girls, The Beach Boys

Good Vibrations ,The Beach Boys

Sloop John B, The Beach Boys

God Only Knows, The Beach Boys

She Loves You, The Beatles

I Want to Hold Your Hand, The Beatles

I Saw Her Standing There, The Beatles

Can't Buy Me Love, The Beatles

A Hard Day's Night, The Beatles

Ticket to Ride,The Beatles

Help! The Beatles

Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown), The Beatles

Eleanor Rigby, The Beatles

All You Need Is Love, The Beatles

Hey Jude, The Beatles

Come Together, The Beatles

Something, The Beatles

Let It Be, The Beatles

Stayin' Alive, The Bee Gees

How Deep is Your Love, The Bee Gees

(We're Gonna) Rock Around the Clock, Bill Haley & the Comets

Hallelujah, Jeff Buckley

Mr. Tambourine Man, The Byrds

I Got a Woman, Ray Charles

What'd I Say, Ray Charles

Georgia on My Mind, Ray Charles

Hit the Road Jack, Ray Charles

I Can't Stop Loving You, Ray Charles

Good Times, Chic

Train in Vain, The Clash

Pictures of You, The Cure

Go Your Own Way, Fleetwood Mac

I Heard It Through the Grapevine, Marvin Gaye

What's Going On, Marvin Gaye

Let's Get It On, Marvin Gaye

Sexual Healing, Marvin Gaye

Sweet Child O' Mine, Guns N' Roses

Everyday, Buddy Holly

I Want You Back, The Jackson 5

Beat It, Michael Jackson

Billie Jean, Michael Jackson

Piano Man, Billy Joel

Your Song, Elton John

Tiny Dancer, Elton John

Rocket Man, Elton John

You Really Got Me, The Kinks

Summer in the City, The Lovin' Spoonful

Why Do Fools Fall in Love, Frankie Lymon and the Teenagers

Sweet Home Alabama, Lynyrd Skynyrd

Like a Prayer, Madonna

Pink Houses, John Mellencamp

Enter Sandman, Metallica

Hey Ya! Outkast

Free Fallin,' Tom Petty

1999, Prince

Little Red Corvette, Prince

When Doves Cry, Prince

Purple Rain, Prince

Kiss, Prince

A Whiter Shade of Pale, Procol Harum

(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction, The Rolling Stones

Paint It Black, The Rolling Stones

Sympathy for the Devil, The Rolling Stones

Jumpin' Jack Flash, The Rolling Stones

Gimme Shelter, The Rolling Stones

You Can't Always Get What You Want, The Rolling Stones

Honky Tonk Women, The Rolling Stones

Brown Sugar, The Rolling Stones

Tumbling Dice, The Rolling Stones

The Sound of Silence, Simon & Garfunkel

The Boxer, Simon & Garfunkel

Bridge Over Troubled Water, Simon & Garfunkel

Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin), Sly & the Family Stone

Gimme Some Lovin', The Spencer Davis Group

Thunder Road, Bruce Springsteen

Born to Run, Bruce Springsteen

Born in the U.S.A., Bruce Springsteen

Da Ya Think I'm Sexy? Rod Stewart

Hot Stuff, Donna Summer

Fire and Rain, James Taylor

River Deep, Mountain High, Tina Turner

New Year's Day, U2

Sunday Bloody Sunday, U2

Pride (In the Name of Love), U2

With or Without You, U2

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For, U2

One, U2

Won't Get Fooled Again, The Who

Baba O'Riley, The Who

(Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher and Higher, Jackie Wilson

Superstition, Stevie Wonder

You Are the Sunshine of My Life, Stevie Wonder

Living for the City, Stevie Wonder

Higher Ground, Stevie Wonder







Monday, November 29, 2004

Blah!

OH DEAR GOD. I seriously almost ripped my hair out when Tonya read me this. I mean, come on SI -- The Sux are Sportsmen of the Year? I'm sorry, I can see them getting a mention, but Michael Fucking Phelps gets my vote, DUI or not (and if you want to make a case against him for that, don't even go there -- at least he didn't drink before a race). My favorite part of the story:

Collectively, the Sox were Sportsmen in the truest sense -- professional, collegial, colorful athletes who were easy to root for.

Professional? Did they hear anything that came out of Curtass Schilling's mouth? Pedro calling the Yankees his Daddy? Telling the public you did a shot of JD before a big game? Call them likeable or whatever, but Sportsmen of the Year? For one series? Yeah, yeah, biggest comeback blah blah blah, but it's not like they were this little sniveling team that had no chance against the big bad Yankees -- who they beat 11 times in the regular season.

Michael Phelps 1) Is 19 years old and had more pressure dropped on him by the media than any sports franchise in my lifetime. What were you doing at 19 SI writers? Probably getting drunk in college and stumbling to class like the rest of us -- not devoting your entire life to training. 2) Was the first person EVER TO WIN 8 MEDALS IN A NON-BOYCOTTED OLYMPICS -- 6 of them GOLD. 3) You want professional? How about giving up his spot on the relay team so his teammate could win a gold himself? That my friend, is an amatuer athlete embodying all that is professional. Plus, he was one of the most humble athletes I saw interviewed (Curt Schilling's looking around right now going "Humble? Is that like hobble? Like hobbling around on one foot but knowing God wants you to win for your teammates because you have the power and are the best because Jesus loves you and hates the Yankees and Yo! Vote for Bush?") during the Games at an age where it's very easy to be a cocky jackass. He behaved like someone twice his age with three times the experience. ON AN OLYMPIC STAGE. You know, that thing that happens every 4 years that only a select few get to participate in against the rest of the best from around the world? Yeah, that.

And yes, I'd be scratching my head if they picked any other person/team over Phelps. Including the Yankees.

Twins! Ew, Get Your Minds Out of the Gutter...

Yeah, so now that Julia Roberts is the first woman to ever give birth to twins, I am reminded of something that always catches my ear when overhearing conversation about pregnancies-- the line: "Yes, well, twins run in my family..." You hear this all the time when some group is discussing multiple births -- there's always one person who is way proud of the fact that there has been a set of twins in their family, and oh my gosh, that means it could be genetic and he/she could be the lucky one of having twins, too! As if having one kid at a time is just too boring or something!

What cracks me up the most is, dude, I think EVERY family has a set of twins somewhere along the line. Every now and then the ovary lets out more than one egg, or the fertilized egg divides and voila! Twins! It IS a pretty cool thing, but it doesn't make you a the envy of everyone because your genetics determined this for you. Your eggs aren't better than mine and your sperm ain't better than the future Complete and Total Husband's, whoever he is. And I'd be as happy for someone having one baby as I would someone having two or three or seven, so poo-poo on you.

God Bless Us Yankee One

So last night to my bah humbugness NBC aired the latest version of A Christmas Carol, starring Kelsey Grammer and Jennifer Love Hewitt. And it's a musical. To me, this is a sacrelige as the bestest version of A Christmas Carol, musical or otherwise, in my opinion is Scrooge, starring Albert Finney. It too is a musical and it's the version I grew up on as we watch it once a year. And "shoot" Tiny Tim when he declares "God Bless Us Everyone." He is too sickeningly sweet, and so the Gallant to every other kids' Goofus that he annoys us in the Bischer house. So we take aim at the TV with our fingers, and when he utters is unrealistically unselfish line, we yell "BANG!"

Stop looking at me like that. I have a heart. Just not for perfectly behaved children. Anyway.

That so many movies have been made of Dickens' classic (it's been made more than 70 times into some kind of film or TV movie) tells you what a timeless story it is. To me, it just might be the most perfect book out there.You've got a stingy jackass, his overlooked/mistreated employee, greed, redmption, forgiveness and ghosts all against a Christmas backdrop. You get the backstory filled in seamlessly by said ghosts -- you see why Scrooge became the way he did, how he alienated people by doing so and what it's going to lead to if he keeps acting like an asshole. Scrooge goes through his change, it doesn't end so perfectly (i.e. he doesn't get the girl back after being a dick to her in the past because she's already married to someone else) but he wants to be a better guy and allow himself to be happy. And it happens all in one night, so it's very efficient.

Plus, it's utterly quoteable:

"7 O'clock on Christmas Eve? That's not business hours. That's drudgery for the sake of it and an insult to all men of good will." (I like to quote this when I have to work on Christmas Eve, though I'll substitute "10 a.m. for the whole 7 thing. If anyone makes you work that late anymore -- and I did while working in retail one Christmas Eve and was ready to kill someone -- they should be shot.)

"If they're going to die then perhaps they should do it and decrease the surplus population."

“If I could work my will every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart."

"Oh! but he was a tight-fisted hand at the grindstone, Scrooge! a squeezing, wrenching, grasping, scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner!"

How can you not love Dickens for that description alone?

Anyway, this site is awesome in that it breaks down characters and compares several movie versions with film stills -- and includes the Mickey Mouse, Mr. Magoo and Muppet versions alongside their human counterparts.

If they ever made a Yankee version of a Christmas Carol, that would so rock. George as Scrooge of course, with the ghost of Billy Martin coming back on Christmas (and he died Christmas Day which is eerily similar to Jacob Marley's Christmas Eve) to "save" George. This would've worked better back in the day, before he mellowed out somewhat, but you could still get away with Joe Torre or Brian Cashman being Bob Cratchit, maybe the ailing Giambi as Tiny Tim...

Sunday, November 28, 2004

A Room With a View...Sorta

If there's one good thing about winter coming, it's that the leaves are falling off the trees and I get my view back in my living room. What is this extra special view, you may ask? The antenna of the Empire State Building. Yup, I can lounge on my couch and see the red blinking light and green (for Christmas) antenna sticking up across the Hudson River. Now, Tonya, Julianna and Ken may get the whole skyline in their Newport apartment, but I am content with my small piece of view. People come from all over the world to see the Empire State Building, and I get to see it from my couch. Or at least a little of it anyway.

Saturday, November 27, 2004

Yo-ho, Sending Christmas Cards...

OK, the reason I haven't been able to post the past two days? Snowflakes. Snowflake sticker to be exact. Because when I decide to make Christmas cards, it's a vast undertaking. And they require the exact snowflake sticker I have in mind, accept no substitute, which requires running around to all the craft stores in Monmouth County, NJ. The cards are half done, so with any luck, those of you expecting a Chickenly greeting should get them by the end of the week. I'll be taking requests till Wednesday, so hurry up and get 'em while there hot -- send addresses to kabsy77@yahoo.com.

Now I must return to glue and sitckers and glitter pens and whatnot. Forget about all that Christmas shopping I have to do...

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

80s Flashback Lunch!

And Ieeeeeeeeyeeeeei remember how you loved me, time was all we had until...Oh, hello! You just caught me in a Richard Marx moment! Tonya and I reference him about two to three times a week at work. I think we get bonus points if we manage to reference him and the Yankees in the same sentence. Oh, yes, it can be done. Anyway. Just wanted to say on this day before Thanksgiving that I am thankful to the man for some of the most classic cheese songs of my life, and that I am totally going to get his karaoke CD for Hoboken Idol 2005.

I know you're all just way excited about that.

KB, Jackass Slayer

Dude, there are moments when I'm just way proud of myself for opening my mouth. They usually happen when I'm PMSing and horomones won't let me censor myself. Like today. I was all in a jolly mood (PMS only makes me easier to get angry, not in a bad mood all the time) because we've got a 4-day weekend coming up, yo! I stop in a deli near my office to get a ham and egg on a roll, and as I'm waiting in line by the grill, the old dude in front of me is getting all pissy with the cooks. Now, I hate condescending people to begin with, and since I worked in retail, I know how shitty the public can be to people they see as "beneath" them. There are good ways to complain -- If something isn't being done right, you just tell them. You don't have to have an attitude about it. Anyway, the guy's all "I said scrambled eggs, not fried" and the cook changes the order for him. Old Dude's rolling his eyes at this point and I'm like "The hell? He's fixing it" to myself. The cook starts putting the eggs on the roll for the guy and Old Dude's all "I said I wanted the bacon ON the sandwich." Now he's all pissy and looking around for someone to share in his "These People" attitude. He glances at me and I hear it come out before I can stop myself "Geez, calm down! It's Thanksgiving tomorrow!" I say it with a bit of a laugh in my voice, but I'm so not kidding and he knows it. He just looks away and stalks off to the counter to pay.

You get this a lot in New York. People are impatient by nature or something, and it's totally right to want something you're paying for to be done the right way. But it doesn't give you the right to speak to someone like they're an idiot. And I hope that dude just figured that out.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004

Shut Up, NY Times

So, I was all prepared to watch Gilmore Girls tonight, and instead I'm watching the American Girls' Samantha movie. It's no great piece of filmmaking, but it is nice and I'm sure if I were 9, this movie would get replayed so much, I'd have it memorized by the end of the month (see: Muppets Take Manhattan, Old Yeller and Disney's Robin Hood as movies I knew word for word). What I don't get are the critical movie reviews that are snobbily against the books. I personally think they are wonderful -- they're for children, so I don't get why people are expecting War and Peace, or excuse me, Little Women (which I had trouble with at the age of 9, and I had high reading scores, so it wasn't for lack of ability) as the hoity-toity NY Times review compares it to. The books are historical fiction and made on a readable level (or, as the Times turns its nose up at them, "cardboard thin"), and if kids get their interest piqued to go on reading about the same time periods in other books, what's wrong with that? It's like a gateway drug, except you're getting a kid hooked on educating themselves instead of smack. Gee, what a problem that is.

They can make a big deal about what a merchandising coup it's become, but I don't see anything wrong with that either. We had Cabbage Patch kids which went for a hell of a lot more money anyway. I suppose it would be better to have kids reading the Wall Street Journal and playing with flashcards than being actually being kids or something...

Dark Side's Coming and...Uhh....

I've got Tonya onboard that the new Yankees Theme Song should be On the Dark Side, by John Cafferty and the Beaver Brown Band, from the way fabuloso movie Eddie and the Cruisers. I mean, the Yankees are the Evil Empire, alternately "The Dark Side," si? So why not show that we embrace it with a good song? Even though I'm not exactly sure what Mr. Cafferty is saying half the song...

Fiiieeyuh...NOT!

Ah, the wonders of the office building fire alarm. It started whooping and wailing and we're all "um, whatever?" because we get this a lot and only once did it have merit. So we wait in the lobby of our elevator/stairwell bank, and our fire warden picks up the Red Phone to see if we're supposed to evacuate, and as always, it doesn't work. Makes you feel REAL safe! So we hear the other floors going down the stairwell, and we join them and the stairwell is like way clogged. It takes 8 minutes to go down 10 flights. That's so not good if the buidling had actually been burning down. Fucking slowpokes on the lower floors...

Anyway, the fire department shows up and leaves almost just as quick. And everyone in the building gets to rush back to the elevators at once. The rumors going around right now are that a "kid" pulled the alarm (and maybe said kid lives in my apartment building because the fire alarm got pulled AGAIN on Saturday night and I'm pretty sure our landlord is going to be apoplectic over it. I wish whoever keeps doing this would grow the hell up.) and that the bank downstairs got robbed. I wonder how these things get started?

And a Partridge in a Pear Tree

Mooched this idea from Shannon since it's a slow news day in KB Land:

TEN RANDOM THINGS ABOUT ME:
1. I can name all the states in alphabetical order
2. I love office supply stores
3. That toe I banged up over a month ago still hurts
4. Last night I was at a bar where a swing/jazz band played “Beyond the Sea,” the official theme song of the SS Mystique and Aura
5. Liana made us do two shots of SoCo and Lime in honor of her birthday and I hadn't done a group shot since...I can't even remember.
6. I’m pissed Lost isn’t on this week in favor of a three-hour Bachelorathon
7. Burning Heart by Survivor is stuck in my head right now
8. It feels like November is dragging on purpose just so it can take longer for baseball season to get here.
9. We're getting our apartment Christmas Tree on Sunday!
10. I think my bus crush may have smiled at me today, though he may have been amused by the absurdly bad hair day I'm having.

NINE PLACES I'VE VISITED:
1. Charlotte, NC, on two different occassions
2. Camden Yards
3. Seneca Lake, NY
4. The Bahamas on a cruise
5. St. Augustine, FL
6. Youngstown, Ohio
7. Philadelphia, PA
8. The Bathroom
9. Washington, D.C.

EIGHT THINGS I WANT TO DO BEFORE I DIE:
1. Get Published
2. Visit the Baseball Hall of Fame (time for me to get pelted with objects from the audience for this answer.But fuck, no one I know has ever wanted to go or been already and that’s a place I’d want to share with someone, not go by myself)
3. Visit the Grand Canyon and visit Prince Edward Island and get a huge Anne of Green Gables fix
4. Take a cruise with all my buds
5. See a bald eagle in its natural habitat
6. Be at a Yankees World Series clinching game
7. Own my own home
8. Fall madly in love with a guy who's just as crazy about me as I am about him


SEVEN THINGS TO WIN MY HEART:
1. Read my blog
2. Don’t assume I’m like every other girl you’ve dated
3. Be nice to my Chicken
4. Kiss me like you mean it
5. Have a wicked sense of humor
6. Take me and my love of the Yankees seriously
7. Be a nice guy

SIX THINGS I BELIEVE IN:
1. Giving to charity
2. Being nice
3. Destiny (with an interlocking NY at the end)
4. Mystique and Aura
5. My fellow Yankee fans
6. I believe in youuu and meeee (just had to get a Four Tops reference -- forget Whitney's version -- in there.)

FIVE THINGS I'M AFRAID OF:
1. Getting blood taken
2. The New York Media
3. Never getting published
4. Sasquatch’s shoes
5. That they'll tear down Yankee Stadium

FOUR FAVORITE ITEMS IN MY BEDROOM:
1. The Chicken
2. My books
3. My laptop
4. My herbs

THREE THINGS I DO EVERYDAY:
1. Read everyone’s blogs
2. Complain about the temperature in my office with my fellow co-workers
3. Water my herbs

TWO THINGS I'M TRYING NOT TO DO:
1. Procrastinate with the book
2. Fall asleep.

ONE PERSON I WANT TO SEE RIGHT NOW:
1. Any of the YES Network Yankee game crew, as that would mean it’s baseball season again.

Monday, November 22, 2004

Short Work Week -- Woo-Hoo!!

Happy birthday wishes go out to Liana! Her birthday shout-out song for the day is Upside Down by Diana Ross.

I love this week in New York -- 1) Every day the commuters get less and less and 2) Walking past Macy's is a treat because they close off Herald Square at night for the bands/acts in the parade to rehearse and you get a little sneak preview. All week long, you see kids in band uniforms roaming around the city, looking up in awe, and all the Christmas decorations are going up. It's a nice experience.

Factoid for those who don't know -- they make/store the floats in Hoboken, then line them up Wednesday night and transport them thru the Lincoln Tunnel to NYC. How awesome is that?

Sunday, November 21, 2004

A Chicken in Your Mailbox

Well, with this week officially starting the Holiday Season, I have to get cracking on my Christmas cards. For the past two years I've made them, showcasing the one and only
Chicken, of course.

Seeing as how he's gained some popularity and fans this year via the blog, if any of you out there want your very own Chicken Holiday Greeting, send me your snail mail address (unless I already know it, and if I do, chances are you were going to get one anyway) and you can expect the Chicken in your mailbox with everyone else's uncool Hallmark stuff.

So if you're game, write here: kabsy77@yahoo.com

Saturday, November 20, 2004

Auburn Hills, Scarier Than the Bronx

I don't EVER want to hear it about Yankee fans again.

The Bleacher Creatures, The YMCA and a...Banjoist??

Just returned from a very eventful night of Trivial Pursuit, the 1990s edition, Boys vs. Girls at Liana and Eric's. I write this now because I am ashamed to say there was something I didn't know about the Yankees - as in when Eric rolls his eyes and reads the question "Which American League team made so-and-so their official banjoist in 1998?" and I'm all "the Rangers?" AND IT'S TOTALLY THE YANKEES. When the hell did this banjoist appear? I know I was away at school at the time, but I can't believe THAT eluded me. Maybe they should get another one for next year, seeing how well 1998 went.

Anyway, the night started with the guys trouncing the gals with five pieces of the pie to our one. Then we caught up. And then we won. Some might think it's because Dexter, a pop culture knowledge power house, was rolling around Liana and Eric's kitchen floor leaving the guy's team a man down. But Christina and I know the real answer about how we won, and Jesse wasn't at all feeling bad about letting it go. I will not reveal it here, and we still probably would've won anyway, but what the hey. We won on the answer of Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman, so who says chick programming doesn't get you anywhere?

But a banjoist? The hell?

Friday, November 19, 2004

Strange People Have More "Needs" Than Others

So we're watching Oprah right now and she's got the office horrified once again. The topic? Married couples swinging. Yeah, plenty of entertainment in that topic alone, but even more so when Oprah keeps harping on the fact that there's married people! Swinging! In the suburbs! And they could be in YOUR neighborhood. This one couple just outted themselves and we were all like "Huh?" I guess you picture Swingers to be all pretty and studly or something and these people were just...meh. One of my co-workers blurted out "Who would want to swing with THEM?" Another wanted to know why they were so special because "unattractive people have sex every day."

The creepy part is listening to the meh couple going on about their fantasies and how after they Swing, they have sex a few times with each other when they get home. T-M-Fucking-I, meh couple.

And we are totally baffled by one piece of the Swingers vocab: Full Swap.

Tonya: And what is the definition of Full Swap?

Ken: What's the difference between a Full Swap and just a Swap?

But judging by overall creepiness of this episode, I think we might not want to find out.

The Post? Exaggerate? Never!

Oh, NY Post. You give the textbook example of everything a tabloid should be, especially when trying to rile up Yankee fans. Their story with the headline Joe Wants Pedro is just ridiculous when you see the quote he gives:

Torre indicated he'd love to have Martinez in the rotation.

"Pedro's one of the elite pitchers in baseball," Torre told the Associated Press. "As a manager, you want all the toys on the shelf, there's no question."


I fail to see where Joe says he'd LOVE to have Pedro as a Yankee. It seems like he's playing the role of a good manager -- if Pedro does come, he hasn't said anything rude about him to cause fury later. I mean, come on, Post, do you expect anyone in the Yankee organization to say "No, we don't want him. He's a jackass."????

The rest of Torre's quotes:

"I don't know what's going to come of it," Torre cautioned. "Having George meet with him — he doesn't meet with people just for the sake of meeting them.

"He's certainly thinking in terms of helping our ballclub."

Yeah, not seeing the Pedro "love" here.

My gut feeling is they're doing this for a lot of show so they can drive up Pedro's price for Boston, and put the heat on Randy Johnson a bit. The Yanks are a shrewd bunch, yo. My gut's been wrong before, but something tells me this is some kind of red herring.

And can we focus on the other Martinez already? That would like, totally make my Thanksgiving.

Business People With a Death Wish

Here's something I never understood -- people who risk life and limb to get in an elevator. You know the ones, they see the doors closing and they run for it, throw their arms, legs, head into the 6 inch gap just so they don't have to wait a whole 20 seconds for another elevator to come. It's seriously dangerous in my building because sometimes the sensors on the doors don't work. They don't care if your whole body is blocking the doors, they're gonna close and squash you not matter what. I've come close to having my hand snagged while trying to hold the doors for someone else, so now I have to really like you in order for me to try it again.

This tends to happen a lot when you're in an already crowded elevator, which is a pain for me because my floor is the last one it stops at. This never bothered me at McGraw-Hill because the elevator stopped at the MSG network floor, the offices of the Knicks and Rangers' floor, WPLJ (a top-40 station in the NYC area) radio's floor, and WABC radio's floor, and there was always a chance of seeing a celebrity. And the elevators were like Park Ave. penthouses at 2 Penn. But now our elevators are way smaller and slow and hot, so if I see someone making the Evel Knievel death-courting jump into the doors, I get seriously annoyed.

What's even more perplexing is these are the people you see meandering slowly down the sidewalk while walking to work, as if they don't have a care in the world, much less worries of getting to work on time. So I don't get it when they turn on the jets when they see that an elevator is about to make the ascent without them. Just chill and wait for the next one. What's so hard about that?

Thursday, November 18, 2004

House? Me? Shhyeah, Right!

Reading this story on how Californians can't really afford to stay in the state anymore just depressed me. I mean, I know the pain of living in an over-priced area on a not-great-for-overpriced-areas salary. But this is what REALLY got me:

Nationally, the median-priced home — where half cost more and half cost less — was $186,600 in September.

$186,600 wouldn't even get you a one bedroom condo in Hoboken. It wouldn't get you a home or even a condo in my parents' neighborhood, which is an hour out of Manhattan and made up of upscale, midscale and lowscale areas.

I know, I know, people don't make as much money outside big city areas and therefore that $186,600 is probably expensive to them. But still. I have no plans to relocate, but as long as I stay in this area, I, as a single person working in publishing, will never own a home.

And that just sucks. This isn't a woe-is-me moment, because I know I could go work my ass off night and day for some financial company and make good bucks, but then you sacrifice your health and your sanity. I guess you sacrifice something with every job out there. But the idea that someday I'll be 40 and still may have to rent with two roommates scares the crap out of me. Not enough to move (because my life here rocks, despite not having a place of my own), but you get the picture.

Time to start working hardcore on that book...

Still Scratching My Head

OK, so I'm still kind of agog over Wife Swap. Turns out the Chauvenist Guy ended up being sympathetic in the end -- he realized just how much his wife was doing around the house and what he was missing out on with his children, and now he helps out a lot. That's cool. But his wife? Still baffles the shit out of me. Check out her manual for the wife who was taking her place. I cannot believe she thinks God or the Bible would side with her on half this stuff:

In our family, my husband Jimmy is the head of the household and has the final say, because the bible says he should.

Ummm....

We don't agree with mothers who choose to have a career instead of being full-time moms.

Right. Because when a woman works, she's only a part-time mom. What the fuck? You are ALWAYS a full-time parent when you are a parent. Stay-at-home mom would've been the right choice of words here, because you are no less of a loving parent if you have a job.

His job is so physically tough that he comes home with calluses on his hands and his clothes filthy with dirt and sweat. Someone who works in an office or has no job is not a real man in our opinion.

Oh, yeah. I forgot. Those guys I know with who toil away at stressful office jobs don't work at all. They sit buffing their nails all day. And on their first day of work they got castrated. They're eunuchs not Real Men. Fuck off, Harris family.

I don't allow Zack to take phone calls from girls. The last time a girl called, I snatched the phone and told her "It's not a girl's place to call boys, you have to wait until a boy calls you."

So maybe that poor girl didn't end up getting her math assignment because of you and your assbackwards mindset, did you ever think of that? And god forbid a girl like your son enough to want to talk to him -- that there's one hussy little girl. You're right to keep her away from him.

I don't allow the kids to watch Sci-fi shows, rude cartoons, horror shows or wrestling.

Yeah, that Star Trek is a work of the devil all right.

I strongly believe that mothers should stay home to bring up their children. I can't believe some women choose career over kids.

Oh, shut the hell up, Dawn. Maybe some women HAVE to work. Maybe putting their kids in clothes and feeding them is important or something. Idiot.

Our 6-year-old, Annalee, sleeps in our bed. She goes to bed at 8:30 pm or 9 pm, when Jimmy does. When I come to bed at midnight I push her to the center between Jimmy and me, and she sleeps there all night.

Because only a bad mother would tell the kid to sleep in her own bed because she wants alone time with her husband, right?

These are just the highlights. I suggest checking out the actual manual yourself for some more "You've GOT to be kidding me" fare.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

Shoes and Swaps

I'm convinced the person who came up with the term "Waiting For the Other Shoe to Drop" lived under someone like Sasquatch. Because every night, as I'm curled under the covers and just about to conk out, I get jolted awake in a fright by the BANG!! (ten seconds later) BANG!! of Sasquatch taking off his shoes and chucking them on the hardwood floor. I hear the first shoe and it feels like I've been slammed on the head or something. Then I prepare myself for the second scary noise (ie, waiting for the other shoe), and when it comes, it still makes me jump. I don't know what he's doing -- I picture him untying his shoes while standing up, then lifting the shoe up to his head and going "BOMBS AWAY!" as he lets his size 16s go. I wouldn't put it past him.

Anyway, I'm not sleeping yet, as I am watching Wife Swap, which is like watching a train wreck. The chauvenistic husband gets the woman who hates chauvenists, and the out-of-work actor/househusband gets the housewife who thinks that men shouldn't be home all day "puttering around the house." Hmm. He's doing the same thing she does, yet because he's a man (and probably doing a better job at housework than she does) it's "puttering." Her and her chauvenist husband are what make me really terrified of Middle America/Red States. TERRIFIED.

Ooh...I See Two Blogs Right Now

I've read so much today for work, that I think I am permanently cross-eyed. Ah, the joy of a pre-holiday week deadline. The only thing getting me through right now is that Lost is on tonight. Woo-hoo!!! Must get eyes uncrossed in time for that...

Let's Go to the Videotape!

Oh, man, we just heard one of the best news promos ever at work: "Today at noon, the story of Gary Sheffied, a sex tape, an extortion plot and an R&B singer..." Holy cow, could it be any more misleading? But even the non-sports fans in the office got a good chuckle out of that one. Very Fox like for a CBS station, I may add.

All My Yankees

The only reason I'd want to see Pedro in Pinstripes is so he could be the starting pitcher against the Red Sox in their Boston Opening Day "We Got a Series Ring, You Do-on't, Nya Nya Nya Nya Nya!" Rub-It-In Fest. There'd be something kinda redemptive in that, but that's it. Please. Don't. Get. Him. If it were Pedro six years ago, yes. Pedro now? Not so much. Lefties, Boss, lefties.

They showed Game 1 of the 1998 World Series again last night on YES. Made me wonder if the programmers are secretly trying to brainwash George into getting Tino back.

Tonya, Stephanie and I know when they'll get him back -- when Tonya puts her Tino photo away at work, as if she's given up hope of him returning, and moves on to loving a new Yankee. You see, that's how it works on soap operas. You'll see somebody lose the love of their life to what they assume is death but no body ever turned up (ie, the actor was popular enough to leave the door open for his return), so there's a slight chance he's still alive. And while their beloved is missing, they'll hold out hope that they may return and do crazy soap opera things like talk out loud to their beloved's picture. (Which we've had Tonya do, holding the photo to the side so the "camera" behind her can get it in the shot, just like they do on soaps.) Then one day they meet someone else, who's not AS great a love as their beloved, but pretty darn good (Jeter, in Tonya's case) in their own right. That's when the formerly devoted wife/husband puts away their beloved's photo, saying goodbye to it, knowing that their beloved would want them to be happy. But what the wife/husband doesn't know is that it's sweeps, and the second they put that photo in a drawer and hop in the sack with the new beloved, guess who turns up on their doorstep? Hellloooooo Beloved No. 1! And Helloooooooo Love Triangle!

But I know if this were a soap, Tonya would kick Jeter out of bed so fast his head would spin, such is her love for Tino.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

Parsley is Such Sweet Sorrow

Sigh. My beloved Jeter Parsley, which has grown so well indoors with its best pal A-Rod Basil, is sporting these white spots. I can't find out what it is online, though I'm worried it's mold and therefore I will have to...put the Parsley to sleep. I cultivated this sucker from seed and it's produced so much for me -- I just can't let go.

It's bad enough the Giambi Oregano never produced (VERY creepy how it reflected its namesake), now I might have to give up on what's a pretty plentiful plant. The A-Rod Basil might just get depressed and commit suicide one day.And I couldn't take THAT guilt.

I'll give it a few more weeks. Sigh. Again.

Any Excuse to Bust Out the iPod...

Idea taken from Matt taken from Whatever:

First 10 out of 1052 songs that come off my iPod in shuffle mode:

Cool Change, Little River Band
We Can Work it Out, Stevie Wonder
Mary's Place, Bruce Springsteen, Live Giants Stadium 8/31/03
Angel Eyes, Frank Sinatra
Early in the Morning, The Gap Band
Rhapsody on a Theme of Paganini, Sergei Rachmaninoff
Ain't Too Proud To Beg, The Temptations
In the Half Light of the Canyon, A River Runs Through It soundtrack
It Takes Two, Rob Base & DJ EZ
You're the One For Me, D Train

I don't have much newer stuff on the pod. Not that I don't like new stuff, but I refuse to buy something I'm going to be sick of in three months because it's so overplayed on the radio.

80s Flashback!

Does anyone remember the way fabulous song The Rain by Oran "Juice" Jones? Man, if you don't you should seriously download it somewhere because to steal a term from Bill Simmons, the song is one of the best pieces of unintentional comedy out there. The premise is simple: A guy finds out his girlfriend/wife is cheating on him and hooboy is he pissed! This is the confrontation scene in the song (the chorus is in parens) where Oran speaks to his ladyfriend:

(I saw you)
Hey hey baby how ya doin' come on in here
(Walking in the rain)
Got some hot chocolate on the stove waiting for you
Listen first things first let me hang up the coat
(You were holding hands and I'll)
Yeah how was your day today
Did you miss me
(Never be the same)
You did? Yeah? I missed you too
I missed you so much I followed you today
(I saw you)
That's right now close your mouth
'Cause you cold busted
(Walking in the rain)
Now just sit down here, sit down here
I'm so upset with you I don't know what to do
(You were holding hands and I'll)
You know my first impulse was to run up on you
And do a Rambo
(Never be the same)
I was about to jam you and flat blast both of you
But I didn't wanna mess up this thirty-seven hundred dollar lynx coat
So instead I chilled -- That's right chilled
I called up the bank and took out every dime.
Than I cancelled all your credit cards...
I stuck you up for every piece of jewelery I ever bought you!
Don't go lookin' in that closet 'cause everything you came here with is
packed up and waiting for you in the guest room. What were you
thinking?
You don't mess with the Juice!
I gave you silk suits, blue diamonds and gucci handbags.
I gave you things you couldn't even pronounce!
But now I can't give you nothing but advice.
Cause you're still young, yeah, you're young.
And you're gonna find somebody like me one of these days . . .
Until then, you know what you gotta do?
You gotta get on outta here with that alley-cat-coat-wearing,
punch-bucket-shoe-wearing crumbcake I saw you with. Cause you
dismissed!
That's right, Silly rabbit, tricks are made for kids, don't you know
that. You without me is like corn flakes without the milk! This is my
world. You're just a squirrel trying to get a nut! Now get on outta
here. Scat!
Don't touch that coat...


There is so much awesome about this (and if you ever get to see the video on VH1 Classic, make sure you stop what you're doing to take a look because it's even better acted out), I don't know where to begin.

Is it the fact that he was going to "do a Rambo?" The term stone-cold busted? That he's so fed up, leaves her with no access to cash? No, it's probably "You gotta get on outta here with that alley-cat-coat-wearing, punch-bucket-shoe-wearing crumbcake I saw you with. Cause you dismissed!" Man, I have to remember that for an insult someday.

And let's not even get into the cereal and animal similies in the closing lines...Awesome, just awesome.

Left? Right. Old? No.

So the Daily News scrapes together a story by trying to blue-print what needs to be done for 2005 based on rumors that have already circulated this offseason. Kind of lazy reporting right there, but an intriguing story. Especially since they say the Yanks are seriously looking at Tino as backup. But one thing's bugging me:

ENOUGH WITH THE OLD GUYS. The Yanks don't need Randy Johnson, David Wells AND Al Leiter -- choose one and just go with it. And then make a serious play for Eric Milton. I'd hope for Johnson out of those three. I loved Boomer, but I can't get out of my head that he blew Game 5 of the 2003 World Series simply because the man doesn't take care of himself. You gotta wonder how much he has left in him. And Leiter? I dunno. His ERA is decent, but let's remember he didn't have a DH to deal with for eight years. I'm always leery of NL pitchers coming over to the AL (and he hasn't been in the AL since 1995) because they always seem to bite us in the ass. Whatever. I'm not the decision maker here but I would hope common sense prevails -- there's an aging pitching staff in desperate need of someone young who can handle the pressure. Two of that sort would be great. Let's just hope they can find them.

Monday, November 15, 2004

Wild Thing, I Think You Scare Me

The Viagra ad that had The Chicken so confused during the playoffs is getting yanked. I'm glad because 1) that commercial just darn creeped me out for some reason -- I mean, TMI "Wild Thing." and 2) Nice to know at least the FDA is going to get your for false advertising. Because you shouldn't be able to lie (or withhold info as this ad was doing) when it comes to medicine just to make a buck. That's just all sorts of wrong.

This part of the story just cracked me up:
"Remember that guy who used to be called 'Wild Thing?'" the ads say as a middle-aged couple shop, looking in the window of a lingerie store. "The guy who wanted to spend the entire honeymoon indoors?" Later, blue horns sprout from the frisky man's head with "He's back" written on his forehead. The horns morph into the letter "V" of Viagra.

"Blue horns sprout from the frisky man's head"...now that's something you don't get to write everyday as an AP reporter.

Getting the Calendar Ready

Well, if this guy's schedule is correct, the Yanks are home again on my birthday next year! However, the Hoboken Idol B-Day Bonanza 2005 will probably be that night (everyone's got five month's notice on that one, so no excuses for not attending), so I'll just settle for being at the Friday night game the day before. Too bad we don't know the dates of the Sux series yet. I'll be taking bets on who starts the first brawl when they do get posted...

I am Thankful for this Platter

What is that hideous thing in the photo, you may ask? Oh, that is just a replica of the awesomest Thanksgiving platter EVER (onsale at eBay for like 3 bucks). That's the platter my father and I insist on using for the Bischer Turkey, while my mom's always like "Can't we use the nice china one?" The answer is no. Nothing can match the fabulosity of the plastic, 1970s platter from Two Guys. The drawing itself (a giant stoned-looking multi-colored turkey with a little shack and stick-figure pilgrims in the background) is classic, and I'm way impressed that the eBay seller actually displayed it like it's a work of art.

This, coupled with my mom's homemade bread and the annual listening of Alice's Restaurant make for a great holiday. Not as filled with "tradition" as our family Christmases (more on that next month), but awesome just the same.

You Want to Kiss Under THAT?

Factoid for the day: Mistletoe's real meaning is poop-on-a-stick. Hmmm....

Books into Movies into Ugh

Now, I didn't love The Da Vinci Code like everyone else, but the announcement that Tom Hanks is being cast in the lead role of the movie version just leaves me perplexed. Because he so doesn't fit the part. I know he's Tom Hanks and all, but...no.

This comes after I finally succumbed to watching Under the Tuscan Sun last night, which I didn't want to do because I loved the book (a nonfiction work) so much and I knew the movie had very little to do with the actual thing it was taken from. The movie was OK because Diane Lane is exxtremely likeable, but I don't get why they used the title of the book when the only thing the movie and story had in common was the act of buying a house in Tuscany and renovating it.

I hope to god if I ever write a book and it becomes a movie that it goes into good hands. Writers usually lose all creative license over their stuff once they sign over a book for movie rights, so it's always a risk. JK Rowling, being that she's JK Rowling, had total input into the making of the Harry Potter movies, and in that case it was completely the right thing to do. If not, god knows what Hollywood dumbasses would've done to muck it up -- and you should be smacked if you retool any part of the Harry Potter world.

Maybe I should actually finish writing a book before I go worrying about the prospect of Hollywood trying to steal my baby...

Sunday, November 14, 2004

Schilling Socks, A-Rod Wallows

Saw this very honest story in the Times about A-Rod on Shannon's site. I wonder if Lupicass saw it as well -- I mean, It actually does the journalistic thing and, you know, lets the man give his side of the story.

"The fact that I got what I got, I deserved every bit of it because I was brought here to help win a championship and we didn't get that done," Rodriguez said. "Therefore, we failed. I don't think you can point your finger at any one guy because we win and lose as a team. But if you had to point a finger, I think you would point it right at me."

Jack Curry lets A-Rod do all the condemning of himself, which is quite refreshing over having to hear some wormy columnist go on. And on. And on. And on about it with what comes across as malicious intent.

A-Rod also gives his opinion on Schilling's constant ripping of him (side bar: He of the Most Holy Bloody Sock goes on about A-Rod's slap being junior high schoolesque, when I just realized he behaves exactly like the biggest most popular junior high school bitch in your class -- he won't stop talking about you because, aw, he doesn't like you. And like that insecure 13-year-old beeotch, he is an attention whore) and steers clear of any personal attacks. At least for now. Can't wait to see how that plays out next season...next season, where are you?!

And Bernie as Rambo? Tee hee.

Saturday, November 13, 2004

My Very Own...Hermit

So I've caught a bit of PBS's Regency House Party, and while I don't like it as much as their other reality programs (would you expect nothing less than quality from PBS? I mean, they make reality television...educational! Gasp!), I do find one aspect of Regency Life totally awesome -- Hermits.

In Regency Life:

Hermits were contracted to live on estates for a period of time - usually seven years - where they would act as a curiosity and status symbol for the host. Living in a small hermitage on the estate, they would be expected to feed themselves with game and forage.


This idea just has me...laughing. "Hey, I have a Hermit living on my property, aren't I just the awesomest?" Or you could be a Hermit and just live rent free for simply being a "curiosity." I don't know if I'd rather be a Hermit or have a Hermit. Because on the episode I saw, the Hermit was all about dispensing wisdom, and that's a hot commodity right there:

"Hey, Hermit, how do I go about chopping off Sasquatch's ginormous feet?"

"Hey, Hermit, did he not call because he's playing games or is he Just Not That Into Me?"

"Hey, Hermit, do I want to take the bus or PATH today?"

I don't have a small hermitage on my estate, er, in my apartment, so I suppose he could live in the garage or in the washer/dryer closet...or, ooooh! In the little gated area around my building's door! It can finally have a function!

You know the neighbors would be totally jealous. I'm so going to find one...

Friday, November 12, 2004

Don't Drop the Soap, Scott

Judging by the collective whoop that went through my office when the Scott Peterson verdict came down, it's safe to say we all thought he was just a liiiiiiittle bit guilty of murder.

Hope the fucker enjoys himself in prison. Jackass.

Blargh

I'm so freaking frustrated right now I don't even know what to write. Let's just say some things are driving me nuts at the moment and I can't even form words to describe it. That fucking sucks.

At least I get to power trip with the roommates being out of town this weekend. Perhaps I'll be all Tom Cruise-like and sock-slide across the apartment floor to Old Time Rock 'N' Roll. I don't get to do that enough.

Re: Replay

Pardon me, but why is it up to GMs to decide about pursuing instant replay? I thought their jobs were to trade players and acquire them and that the Instant Replay Decision would be in the hands of say, oh, the owners and players and the commisioner and maybe even the umpires. Hmmm...

I may be a sports traditionalist, but I'd be all for instant replay during the playoffs. Not in the regular season, not on balls and strikes, and maybe not on "safe" or "out" at first through third base. But on home runs, ground rule doubles and maybe plays at the plate, I wouldn't object to it because that's when games are majorly on the line and I'm tired of seeing fucked up calls in those situations. And yes, I count the Jeter/Jeffrey Maier homer in that. I don't think it's un"pure" to want to see the right call made, afterall...

Who's The Daddy?

Dude, I don't know why but for the past two night's I've dreamt that I was pregnant. My biological clock isn't even wound yet, let alone ticking, so I have no idea what's inspired this. And no, there's no way it's possible that The Chicken's getting a brother or sister right now, so my family can resume breathing.

I was freaking out in the dreams for various reasons but never for the big one, like, Who the hell is the father? Shouldn't that be a priority question right there? Maybe it was someone scary like Sasquatch and that's why I wasn't supposed to know? So I'm going to let my readers decide Who's The Daddy (not to be confused with Pedro Martinez). Yankeebob's poll inspired me to make my own, so now it's in your hands, good readers!

















Who's The Daddy of KB's Dream Baby?
Sasquatch!
Derek Jeter
The Cute Guy from the bus stop
The YES Network
Nobody. KB's supposed to be a celibate Yankee nun.
KB's living in Hoboken. It could be anybody.
Fitness Celebrity John Basedow
A sleazy Red Sox fan who slipped KB a roofie
We're not meant to know
I am!



Free polls from Pollhost.com

Thursday, November 11, 2004

Words I Like

Some words I like right now. Try to use one in a sentence today. Use all of them in one sentence and you're KB's Vocabulary Star!

Smitten: I don't know -- this is such a charming word to me. So much better than "having a crush."

Fucko(™ Stephanie): A great word for describing excruciatingly annoying people. As in "Curt Schilling, that damn fucko."

Effervescent: It just sounds so fresh and fun!

Punkin: Not pumpkin -- punkin. That's what they call it in some parts of Delaware.

Jackass: I probably use this term in a few posts a week. Very good adjective for people I hate.

Tree: A little word for such a big thing.

Pony: I picture a little horsey when I hear this. I like little horsies.

Who Needs Cotton Eyed Joe?

Ken and I were just gushing about the awesomeness of having the entire week between Christmas and New Year's off -- our company thinks our mag's da bomb or something so it's their gift to us -- coupled with the random days off we have to use by the end of the year. Ken then goes "You know this means you only have two full weeks of work until next year?" And I'm all "Whee!!!"

I'm Butterchurning and Batmanning in my swivel chair, I'm so pysched about this.

When the YES Network's Not On...

OK, I just need to voice my new love of the show Lost. I haven't been this intrigued by a show in, like, forever. Just to let you know how much I like it, I don't even want to see spoilers about upcoming episodes, and I'm a spoiler whore when it comes to The OC and Gilmore Girls (which has been completely disappointing me lately). I found something out in an episode a few weeks ago and I was like "Holy shit!" and it was such a nice feeling being surprised about something instead of knowing it like weeks in advance because I'm a geek like that. Anyway.

You've got a bunch of way different characters, all with crazy backstories, all trying to survive and all actually looking dirty and scruffy. Most Hollywood shows would have everyone cleaned up and pretty in every episode despite the lack of showering. And the best thing about Lost is that it lets you try to figure things out for yourself instead of telling you what to think, which I like. And it uses the whole psychological element of being stuck away from civilization for what could be a very, very long time and people coming to grips with that. Though I fail to see what's so horrible about being stranded on a tropical island with a bunch of hunky guys. OK, I'd miss blogging and the Yankees, but the eye candy...rowr.

So if you haven't caught it yet, give it a chance. You can catch up and I'm sure reruns will start airing after sweeps. In a time where bad sitcoms and stale reality programs are clogging the airwaves, it's nice to have something that actually sparks your imagination.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004

Yeah, What He Said!

Wow, Page 2 has a common sense, non-hating look at what the Yanks need to do this offseason, and I agree with every word. And the writer is totally in agreement with me about Tino and Placido Polanco. Though his reasons for signing the coolest-named second baseman out there (he's young and semi-cheap) differ from mine (aliteration, vowel ending first and last name, hell, just to have a Yankee named Placido). Nice to see at ESPN.com.

*Sigh* Young

So Clemens racked up yet another Cy. Good for him. Except for all the dudes on the sports radio stations yesterday falling all over themselves to compliment what a stellar acheivement this was -- because he'd come all the way back from retirement to do so. OK, they didn't say this exactly, but they did harp on the fact that last year at this time he was retired. I don't see what the big deal about that is. It's not like he took a year off and then came back. No. He took off his regularly scheduled off-season break and came back in spring training -- like he would've done if he hadn't retired. Where's the big challenge in that?

Also, the sports dudes were saying that the reason he deserved it over Randy Johnson is because the Astros probably wouldn't have made it into the playoffs without Clemens. I have a problem with that because 1) As my dad said, it's not the MVP award you're giving out here and 2) But if that's the case, then what about Roger blowing their chance at the World Series because he fucked up in Game 7?

Whatever. What's done is done. I haven't trusted sports writers with their awards selections since they gave Rafael Palmiero the Gold Glove over Tino, when Raffy only played like 28 games at first base all season. I still get angry over that...

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Charlotte. Where the Yankees Aren't.

But The Chicken had a good time anyway. See his journey in pictures.

My Ass Still Hurts

Here's the obligitory What I Did On My Vaction post. The Chicken's photo journal, which I'm sure is what you're all really looking forward to, will come later tonight. So, here goes.

The Car:
So I was originally supposed to get a Mazda or “equivalent” mid-sized car from Hertz. But when I got there, the Mazda wasn’t back yet, so the lady’s all like “How about the Monte Carlo?” and I’m all “I wanted a mid-sized car not a boat” but before I can say it she’s like “Oh, and there’s a Mustang too.” Yeah, so I opted for the silver ‘Stang. That just happened to have Massachusetts plates. I was not amused by that because 1) Massachusetts=Boston=Red Sox=My Lack of Happiness In October and 2) A Mustang with Northern plates in the South? I thought my ass was going to get a ticket for sure. Despite that I freak if I find myself going anywhere over 75 MPH.

The car itself was pretty nice, except for the big cigarette burn in the driver’s seat. I got to bond with it over the 1325 miles, so we became friends quickly.

The Journey:
OK, that rain I was so worried about? Yeah, I had good reason to be. Probably some of the worst driving conditions I’ve ever had from NJ to Northern Virginia. The Chicken was hiding under his seat during most of it. Not that he could see much through the torrential downpours anyway.

After the rain passed, it was smooth sailing. It’s only two main roads to get to Charlotte, so I thought I was all home free when I got off I-95 onto I-85. I was all excited when we crossed the state line and passed the sign that said “Welcome to North Carolina!” And then I saw that we had at least 230 miles STILL TO GO. Just so I can set you right, I got into NC at 6 p.m. I didn’t get to Hollis and Chris’ place till 9:45. That’s one big mother f’ing state.

When I pull in, Hollis is all “Oh my god…Massachusetts plates?” and looks at my sympathetically. And she’s not even a baseball fan, people.

The Accomodations:
Hollis and Chris have the awesomest apartment ever. Almost everything around Charlotte is brand new, and their place is only 3 years old. They have a fireplace! And a balcony! And lots of parking spaces (people in Hoboken know just how key this is). And a Target/Chik-Fil-A/Borders across the street! And they have their very own Sasquatch. Though theirs is a girl, and somewhat muffled by the wall-to-wall carpeting. They made me feel very at-home during my stay.

The Southern Things I Did:
-- Checked out the city of Charlotte…and thought I was going to die when this ginormous screeching/roar went overhead. We were in Hollis’ car, and in the span of a few seconds my mind was thinking “That-can’t-be-an- airplane-unless-it’s-coming-down-oh-my-god-I’ve-left-New York-only-for-the-terrorists-get-me-in-Charlotte.” I think Hollis may have been thinking the same thing. That’s when Chris figured out it might be a military flyover for the Panther’s game. Sure enough, a few seconds later, we see this shadowy thing zip across the sky, followed by another screechy we’re-all-going-to-die roar. It headed over the stadium, which, coolly enough, is located within walking distance of the city. This stuff is odd to a person whose football teams play a few miles from the city their named for.

-- Ate biscuits and gravy for breakfast; Southern fried chicken and hush puppies in a barbecue place called Bubba's; And lots of Chik-Fil-A.

-- Hollis and I took a trip out to see the birthplace of Peter Gammons -- I mean Andrew Jackson. We went through the town's little museum and I made sure to get a picture of the display labeled "The War Between the States," because apparently no one really likes to call it the Civil War down there. The small town area was very cute, so we decided to walk around a bit. We passed this one building with a HUGE Bush/Cheney sign and I'm all "Oh, look, we found the town's Republican headquarters." Oh, but it wasn't. We get closer and there's a giant Confederate flag in the window, and as we get passed the open front door Hollis goes "It's a GUN SHOP, there's a shocker." Now, I may have grown up around NYC, but I have never seen an actual gun shop in person. The gun section in K-Mart, yes, but not a whole store devoted to guns 'n ammo. So that was a first for me.

-- Southern Wal-Mart. And I know it was considered a Bible Belt Wal-Mart because the special spirituality magazine my company worked on (don't ask. We were all traumatized by it) had the Jesus cover, which was only going to Bible Belt states (the non Bible Belt states got different covers). I was also way psyched to be in a store that had a full-on hunting department. I almost bought myself a camoflage thermos, because you never know when you might get thirsty while hiding up in a tree in Hoboken.

The Journey Back
-- Much better than the way down because the rain decided to stay away. I also broke up the trip by having lunch with Heather in Chapel Hill. Almost the first words out of her mouth when she gets in my car? "MASSACHUSETTS plates?" She's a Yankee fan, so of course she sympathized.

-- Saw what may have been a fox or a coyote hanging out by the side or 85 in Virgina, which makes me remember that I saw tons of roadkill that didn't look like any animals we have here in the Northeast.

-- I almost threw my arms around the state of Delaware when I got to it. Because after all those trips to the First State for college, I knew I was only 2 hours from home.

-- This morning I'm telling my parents about the car and how I was afraid I'd get pulled over for having Massachussets plates down in Dixie. And my dad's all "MASSACHUSETTS plates?" Yeah, can't wait to hear Tonya, Steph and the crew of the Mystique and Aura's reaction to this one now.

Special Thanks:
-- Hollis, for driving me into South Carolina just so I could mark it off from my East Coast States I've Been To list. Only Georgia and Maine remain. And for showing me an awesome time down in NC.

-- Chris, for DVR'ing The OC for me because he remembered it from my blog. That's what friends are for, yo. He also helped figure out that the remote-control car/leaf blower noise coming from my car was a result of lack of power steering fluid. So he like, totally saved my ass before my ride home. I would've been all "La-di-da...hey, why can't I turn the wheel?"

-- Tonya, for calling with the news of the Tino May Come Back Rumor. It totally made my Friday.


OK, now I'm off to eat lunch and get ready to organize The Chicken's photos. He's not so smart as to learn how to do this himself. Hmph.

Monday, November 08, 2004

1325 Miles. Dude, I Rock.

Just a short post to let everyone know that The Chicken and I have returned before I pass out from exhaustion. The Chicken got to see a bit of America and I got to see my friends, so aside from an aching ass right now, I'd say it turned out very well indeed. I mean, The Chicken made it out of the South without being fried. That's yoouuge.

More tomorrow. With photos. I promise.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

The Chicken's Magical Mystery Tour

So a visit to Hollis and Christian in Charlotte means The Chicken gets to go on His. First. Road. Trip. Ever. He's in charge of the maps, so if we get lost, it's totally his fault.

Here's hoping he doesn't spy me eating Southern-fried chicken, and that he doesn't let on to anyone that he's a Yankee...and a Yankee fan too. Look for his story here Monday or Tuesday.

And Derek Jeter had better not find himself in Hoboken this weekend or I'm going to be way pissed...

And Now Back to Our Regularly Scheduled Program

Oh my god. The Voice, which used to leave me somewhat irate with its damning sports coverage of NY teams, fields one of the best stories in defense of the Yankees that I've read thus far. And I think the point about Willie Mays' in the post season just drives it all home...

Ag. Gra. Vated.

Ken just had a good suggestion -- if there are terrorists trying to decide which area of the country to attack, could they please go by the election map? Because there are some of us who didn't want the current dumbass in office and that's totally made apparent by the blue sections of the map.

In all seriousness, it does strike me as odd that the people who say they voted for Bush because he's tough on terrorism come from areas of the country that aren't exactly targets. Like Utah. Or Nebraska. If you notice, all the states directly affected by 9/11 went away from Mr. Tough as Nails. Shouldn't that be like a sign or something?

What. Ever.

Not Whistling Dixie

Lesson learned: As long as there are people voting in the South and most of the Midwest, my vote counts for shit. Lovely.

I woke up this morning to Matt Lauer talking to Chris Matthews about what went wrong with the Democrats this time round. Matthews seemed to think it was because the Dems were lacking a Presidential candidate with a Southern accent. And while I hate the notion that an accent is what gets you places (and the fact that this shows just how much power the South has over this country), this will always be a country that will go around and ask the question "Which candidate would you rather have a beer with?" and most people said Bush this time. I'd personally rather drink alone than with either Bush or Kerry, but I think this did hurt the Democrats significantly. Kerry lacks charisma, and that may not be central to running a country, but it sure as hell helps you get in office.

But back to the accent thing -- I get this feeling if Bush didn't have that down-home twang in his voice, it's doubtful he'd be running the US right now. Apparently stupidity is OK when you have a Southern accent, but if he'd been as clueless as he was in the debates with a New England lilt, he would've be dead in the water. So my theory is next time around, let's have two non-accented candidates, mmkay?

Like attracts like, and unfortunately, there are more people in the United States who can relate better to Bush than Kerry. Forget the real issues, I'm convinced that's what this election came down to. And that just sucks.

If I'd known that before all this, I would've seriously voted for Joe Torre. Now that's a man I can relate to.

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

KB, Weather Stalker Extraordinaire!

I hate you, weather. You've screwed me with rain for big Yankee games this year. You screwed me out of the last beach weekend of the season with hurricane remnants. And now you're flipping me the bird with the big massive rain system stretching almost the entire East Coast Thursday, when I have to drive for 10 hours. Thanks so f'ing much, Mother Nature. Why don't you just make it snow, hail and rain down fire while you're at it? Maybe there's a nice volcano you want to suddenly pop up from under I-95 this Thursday? Or maybe a swarm of grasshoppers? Curt Schilling walking on the waters of the Potomac maybe?

Ah well, The Chicken is going to be my co-pilot, so I feel safer already.

Sigh

So I just came from one of the longest lines I've ever waited on to vote, and when my bus passed the Hoboken high school later, its line was pretty damn long too. Safe to say everyone in the Mile Square City was exercising their rights today.

It's sad, but after voting for the lesser of two evils in 2000, I swore to myself I'd never vote again for a candidate I didn't at least 75-percent like. Well, these are strange times we live in and I found myself in the booth this morning feeling pretty jaded again.

If historians come across this blog in like 200 years, know that I didn't go into that booth and get to vote for someone who I thought would make this country great. No, I had to vote for the man who I thought would mess up my country the least. And that's just damn depressing to me.

Excuse me while I go hum a few bars of America the Beautiful.

Monday, November 01, 2004

Ummm...

Before Game 6 of the ALCS, when the national anthem was going on, I noticed that all the Yankee players and coaches were standing outside the New York dugout in the swirling rain, but only a few Red Sox coaches were standing outside theirs. Schillng was in the bullpen standing at attention, but I didn't see any other Sox players and that was a first for me. I nudged Tonya and nodded toward the third base side because it just struck me as so weird. I know Delgado refuses to stand for God Bless America, but I hadn't heard of any team-wide revolts against the Star Spangled Banner or something.

But now it comes out that the Sox were doing shots before the game. I hope to god this wasn't the reason they missed the anthem. I don't care how political or unpolitical you are, missing the national anthem just looks bad, like you're too good for it or something and the rest of us are just standing there for our health (or lack of it, in my case that night). Do shots before games, whatever... precarious, but whatever. But to miss your national anthem for it? Something about that just bothers me, and I ain't exactly no flag-waver.

Fans I Wonder About

Oh my goodness. Here I am sighing about the sudden emergence of Red Sox fans in NYC, and what I really need to be worried about are the Yankee fans who believe everything they read. Check out this Daily News story about what fans want. The polls don't concern me so much as the fan response. The ones longing for the teams of Yankees past especially get me. Yes, those were great teams with players I loved more than anything. But they are gone now and we have to look ahead. Try telling that to these people who seem to associate being a Yankee fan with winning every year.

You want to know why Brosius and O'Neill and Knoblauch and all your other players with "true grit" aren't playing now? BECAUSE THEY RETIRED. If they were still on the field right now, they'd be limping around the bases. Listen to how ridiculous and spoiled you sound, people. You long for the days of yore when, aside from spotty pitching, you've got some of the purest natural talent to ever take the field in your ballpark 81 games a year in pinstripes right now. They won 101 games for you this season. Inspite of a lack of pitching. WIth 61 comebacks. If that ain't some kind of chemistry or heart, I don't know what is. Oh, right, chemistry only comes about on World Series winning teams. I forgot.

This current team didn't lose because of a lack of heart or chemistry or from missing "fire in their eyes" or because the Lord walked with Schilling or because A-Rod is cursed. They lost because the Red Sox were better in a 7-game series. THAT'S IT.

And to the reader who wants to ditch Steinbrenner -- did you enjoy those last four World Series titles? Because the Yanks still had one of the highest payrolls in all those years. Yes, with your players who you claim had so much more "heart" than the ones taking the field right now. George is shelling out money to make YOU happy so he makes more money. It's for his benefit, yes, but he needs you to be responding at the ticket window to do so. He appears to do things without thinking sometimes and makes some bad moves, but he's not doing it to piss us all off. He's just a human being with a lot of money who wants to win. I'm sorry we don't have Saints Lucchino, Selig, or Colangelo running things for you.

Damn, I wish it were next season already.

On Frontrunners and Stuff

The first time I wrote to Matt of UberPlexer fame, it was when I discovered he was a Yankee fan living in Hoboken, and I totally wanted his take on something that had been bugging me for awhile: What the fuck was up with all the Red Sox "fans" infiltrating our New York commuter town? We couldn't come up with an answer (though paintball guns were our first solution) and you've heard me lament the presence of Sox fans (who aren't Liana) suddenly springing up all over the place, so you know I'm still befuddled by all this.

But behold, this NY Times editorial, noting that it's happening in NYC too:

So these people, who cling to their enemy's enemy, I understand. It is the others I don't get, the yuppies and bohemians in the Turkey's Nest who were cheering as Alaskan-born Curt Schilling, he of a professed distaste for New Yorkers and their attitude, mowed through the Yankee batting order. Since when, I wondered, had the Yankees worn out their welcome?

The writer is a lifelong Yankees fan, like myself, so I know what he's feeling here: How can you turn on the hometown team (Met fans exempt from this of course) for another one that uses the Yankee model (you make money on a team, you damn well spend it on your team instead of pocketing it, which many people claim is their reason for "hating" the Yanks) to win? Actually, it's probably because many of these so-called Yankee "fans" live their life on the bandwagon, so they've jumped onto the Red Sox Express. But Jesus Christ, you move to this town to work here, you have no allegiance to the Sox or the Mets, yet you'll root whole heartedly against the home team probably for no better reason than because ESPN.com or some Yankee-hating columnist told you to? Whatever. I'm not a big fan of fickle people, so maybe that dislike just manifests itself in stupid sports fans.

I guess I should be happy these people have vacated the Yankee premesis and pray they never come back...or just make sure my aim on the paintball gun is true.

A Hire Calling

Man, I'm glad I don't have to vote in Jersey City. Tonya was just reading off a list of candidates for mayor, and many had pretty, um, interesting stories. This one in particular.

Maybe I should go up to Steinbrenner and be all "God wants me to be Poet Laureate of the Yankees. Therefore it must be so. I don't have to work for it or anything, you just have to give it to me" and see what happens...

Taurus With a Disco Rising?

Tonya sent me a story today about Popstrology: The Art and Science of Reading the Popstars and I am thoroughly intrigued. Apparently the No. 1 song on the day you were born and the band with the most No. 1 hits that year have some "influence" on your life. I think I must be way cool because Thelma Houston's Don't Leave Me This Way topped the charts on the actual day I was born (woo-hoo for being born on a Saturday! And the Yankees won that day too. Good times, good times.) and Stevie Wonder, The Eagles and Leo Sayer (You Make Me Feel Like Dancing, damn it!) all tied with two number one hits apiece in 77. Check out 1977 and other years here, which gives you the No. 1s in Australia, the UK and US. Now I might just have to check the book out to see what it all means...

*Cough* STAY HOME! *Cough*

Dude, I don't get people who don't go to doctors when they're sick -- and then drag themselves to work and spread the germs around. For days on end. The second I feel sick, I'm getting medication so I can get back to work and not worry about infecting my fellow employees. Yes, I'm considerate like that. Oh, and I like feeling better too. Now, if you have a cold that's one thing because there's nothing you can really do for that. But if you're hacking up a lung with lots and lots of phlegm, or can barely talk because your throat and glands are all swollen, or your stomach is making you run to the bathroom about five times an hour, get thee some penicillin, please -- or stay the hell home! Because I've filled my quota for being sick for the year and don't want it back, thanks.

Stepping down from the soapbox now....