Last night, my friend Sami from Baltimore County drug me to DAR Constitution Hall to see Franz Ferdinand
and Death Cab for Cutie. I had a good enough time - Franz Ferdinand has certainly evolved from a bunch of
sharp-dressed, stationary fashion models to stylish rockers with flair and a sense of drama.
Death Cab, however good and touching their songs may be, has no business following Franz Ferdinand. The
Scottish boys rocked the house with their guitar-based dance pop, both retro and modern at the same time.
By the time Death Cab got up to stage, the crowd at DAR was dancing in the aisles.
And Death Cab promptly started with a piano-based downer of a tune.
I don't hate DC4QT, and rather liked their show. I was surprised at how many of their songs I recognized
and enjoyed. But putting them on after FF would be like being a porn star who's gotta tag a chick after
she just shot a film with John Holmes.
Really, who wants to bat after Babe Ruth?
DC4QT tried to rock out a bit, but it's not in their nature rage against the machine. They're best
enjoyed with a mellower act - Sigur Ros, John Mayer, Tori Amos, perhaps - than sharp snotty Scots with
guitars.
Still, a fine show, and, thanks to the dads and old grey haired dude with the goatee, I totally wasn't
the oldest guy there. The OC quotient wasn't as bad as I'd feared.
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Monday, April 10, 2006
How to ruin a diet
So, you say you just wanted a coffee and a small baked good from your friendly local coffee shop...
Serving Size (g) 128
Servings per Item 1
Calories 420
Fat Calories 140
Total Fat (g) 16
Saturated Fat (g) 7
Trans Fat (g) 1
Cholesterol (mg) 40
Sodium (mg) 250
Total Carbohydrates (g) 63
Fiber (g) 1
Sugars (g) 23
Protein (g) 6
Vitamin A 10% RDA
Vitamin C 0% RDA
Calcium 15% RDA
Iron 15% RDA
and then follow that up with a:
Medium Campfire Mocha 16 Fluid Oz.
Serving Size (g) 519
Calories 600
Fat Calories 160
Total Fat (g) 18
Saturated Fat (g) 10
Trans Fat (g) 0
Cholesterol (mg) 60
Sodium (mg) 230
Total Carbohydrates (g) 97
Fiber (g) 0
Sugars (g) 89
Protein (g) 13
Vitamin A 20% RDA
Vitamin C 0% RDA
Calcium 30% RDA
Iron 20% RDA
Congratulations. You just drank a large vanilla malt from Dairy Queen.
Serving Size (g) 128
Servings per Item 1
Calories 420
Fat Calories 140
Total Fat (g) 16
Saturated Fat (g) 7
Trans Fat (g) 1
Cholesterol (mg) 40
Sodium (mg) 250
Total Carbohydrates (g) 63
Fiber (g) 1
Sugars (g) 23
Protein (g) 6
Vitamin A 10% RDA
Vitamin C 0% RDA
Calcium 15% RDA
Iron 15% RDA
and then follow that up with a:
Medium Campfire Mocha 16 Fluid Oz.
Serving Size (g) 519
Calories 600
Fat Calories 160
Total Fat (g) 18
Saturated Fat (g) 10
Trans Fat (g) 0
Cholesterol (mg) 60
Sodium (mg) 230
Total Carbohydrates (g) 97
Fiber (g) 0
Sugars (g) 89
Protein (g) 13
Vitamin A 20% RDA
Vitamin C 0% RDA
Calcium 30% RDA
Iron 20% RDA
Congratulations. You just drank a large vanilla malt from Dairy Queen.
Friday, March 31, 2006
I wish I wrote this...or thought of this
From : http://datelinehollywood.com/archives/2006/01/03/lost-episode-to-feature-back-story-of-vincent-the-dog/
Click HERE
‘LOST’ EPISODE TO FEATURE BACK STORY OF VINCENT THE DOG
Critics say producers stalling to reveal island mysteries
Hollywood – Fan websites of ABC’s “Lost” drama are abuzz with word that an upcoming episode will focus on Vincent the dog and will include flashbacks with a detailed back story. While enthusiastic fans are suddenly speculating that the dog may be the key to solving the central mysteries on the show, critics say the upcoming flashbacks for Vincent proves that the show’s producers are struggling with storylines and are stalling to give viewers answers.
Since the first episode, the producers have been using flashbacks to create richer characters, new mysteries and revelations. Each major character has had a flashback scene, partially explaining their pasts. Since “Lost” became such a ratings hit, the producers had to suddenly slow down the pace of the show and not reveal the mysteries with the originally intended timeframes.
“When they came up with the show, it was in the same vein of Fox’s ‘24’ with the answers being revealed at the end of the season,” said TV critic Chesley Martin of the Hartford Journal-Bulletin. “But now they’ve realized they can keep this show going for five years or more. What’s happening now is that they need to keep coming up with other storylines. They’re obviously grasping at straws, and that’s why you’ll be seeing these flashbacks for the dog.”
Fans on the website www.hurleysnumbers.net believe Vincent the dog may hold the answers to the crucial secrets of the island.
“I never thought about the dog. I just thought he was a dog who took a dump once and a while and did nothing else,” wrote Sayidrules23 on a thread. “But it’s starting to make sense now. The dog was there all along, and we didn’t realize his significance until now. What if this was all in Vincent’s imagination?”
According to the fan website www.OceanicAir.org, the upcoming episode will feature three flashbacks for Vincent, all of them will be in black and white as it is believed that dogs see life without color. One of the flashbacks will show Vincent having a brief affair with one of the wild boars on the island. The other flashback will show Vincent as a puppy living in the Arctic with a group of researchers.
“There’s a connection there because of those polar bears that have turned up on the island,” wrote Ekomatters1. “Look to the dog for the answers.”
There’s also speculation about the dog being mentioned in the “Orientation” film shown in an earlier episode this season.
“There were jarring jump cuts in that film,” wrote Ekomatters1. “The character Desmond spliced the broken movie back together after watching it too many times. Those missing pieces will become very important because they will talk about a dog, about the chosen one.”
While speculation runs rampant about Vincent the dog, Dateline Hollywood has obtained new information about the hatch on the show. According to an insider, the idea of the hatch wasn’t created until halfway through the season.
“The hatch was the idea of writer/supervising producer Javier Grillo-Marxuach,” revealed the insider. “Jorge Garcia (Hurley) was supposed to lose like 40 pounds during the filming of the show because of being on the island without proper food, but that guy just got bigger and bigger. So Javier came up with the idea of a hatch filled with food to explain Hurley’s weight in the second season. Then all of these other things developed from the hatch idea. It was brilliant.”
Hurley will also play a central role in one of the flashbacks of Vincent the dog. According to the insider, the flashback will relive a moment early on during the first season when the airline food runs out on the island and Hurley contemplates eating the dog. But as he prepares to catch Vincent, he discovers that the character Jin already has the dog over a barbecue pit. The dog manages to escape both hungry survivors.
_____________________________
This absolutely made my day...mainly because I got depressed at My Death Space, a site that shows deceased people who have Myspace.com pages. The most famous may be Taylor Behl, the young Northern Virginia who was killed last year in Richmond. Her story made national headlines, and served as a cruel reminder to choose your friends in this world wisely. Also, the recent shooting in Seattle has added a couple of Myspace profiles to this slightly morbid, slightly touching site.
The one who registered with me - Dave Seeber, a 21 year old kid from Virginia who went to one of my old schools, Virginia Wesleyan College. Like me, he wrote for the Marlin Chronicle, the campus newspaper, and his bearded picture on his Myspace profile reminds me of another fellow VWCer, Pete Fitzgerald, a.k.a. Artiste. He was burly, bearded fellow who had his choice of football scholarships coming out of high school. He instead chose VWC, a small Division III with no football outside of intramurals. He wanted to draw, paint, sculpt and make art, not run two-a-days, lift weights for ten hours a week, and be considered a dumb jock. Dave's visage reminds me a lot of Artiste - same smile, same beard, same clothing style. As I always liked, and even admired Artiste, seeing the similarities of Dave Seeber made both happy at the good memory, and sad to learn he'd taken his own life. There's no doubt that Dave and I would have known each other at the small school, had I been a decade and change younger.
After reading through all the pages of deaths, seeing everything from suicide, car accidents and soldiers dying in Iraq, it is nice to see these recently-deceased still have a slice of themselves that remains exactly as they left it - playing a favorite tune, showing funny pictures and videos, their blogs whose words will be studied by the living remainder to search for clues in their loved one's passing.
Then, the comments - from friends both in person and via the internet. It's a shame most of them don't find out how much they're loved until after they're dead.
Still, to see these people still alive, most of them so young and filled with promise, bravado or depression, does serve as an effective memorial, and provide a snapshot of the living that a cold gravestone can not.
Click HERE
‘LOST’ EPISODE TO FEATURE BACK STORY OF VINCENT THE DOG
Critics say producers stalling to reveal island mysteries
Hollywood – Fan websites of ABC’s “Lost” drama are abuzz with word that an upcoming episode will focus on Vincent the dog and will include flashbacks with a detailed back story. While enthusiastic fans are suddenly speculating that the dog may be the key to solving the central mysteries on the show, critics say the upcoming flashbacks for Vincent proves that the show’s producers are struggling with storylines and are stalling to give viewers answers.
Since the first episode, the producers have been using flashbacks to create richer characters, new mysteries and revelations. Each major character has had a flashback scene, partially explaining their pasts. Since “Lost” became such a ratings hit, the producers had to suddenly slow down the pace of the show and not reveal the mysteries with the originally intended timeframes.
“When they came up with the show, it was in the same vein of Fox’s ‘24’ with the answers being revealed at the end of the season,” said TV critic Chesley Martin of the Hartford Journal-Bulletin. “But now they’ve realized they can keep this show going for five years or more. What’s happening now is that they need to keep coming up with other storylines. They’re obviously grasping at straws, and that’s why you’ll be seeing these flashbacks for the dog.”
Fans on the website www.hurleysnumbers.net believe Vincent the dog may hold the answers to the crucial secrets of the island.
“I never thought about the dog. I just thought he was a dog who took a dump once and a while and did nothing else,” wrote Sayidrules23 on a thread. “But it’s starting to make sense now. The dog was there all along, and we didn’t realize his significance until now. What if this was all in Vincent’s imagination?”
According to the fan website www.OceanicAir.org, the upcoming episode will feature three flashbacks for Vincent, all of them will be in black and white as it is believed that dogs see life without color. One of the flashbacks will show Vincent having a brief affair with one of the wild boars on the island. The other flashback will show Vincent as a puppy living in the Arctic with a group of researchers.
“There’s a connection there because of those polar bears that have turned up on the island,” wrote Ekomatters1. “Look to the dog for the answers.”
There’s also speculation about the dog being mentioned in the “Orientation” film shown in an earlier episode this season.
“There were jarring jump cuts in that film,” wrote Ekomatters1. “The character Desmond spliced the broken movie back together after watching it too many times. Those missing pieces will become very important because they will talk about a dog, about the chosen one.”
While speculation runs rampant about Vincent the dog, Dateline Hollywood has obtained new information about the hatch on the show. According to an insider, the idea of the hatch wasn’t created until halfway through the season.
“The hatch was the idea of writer/supervising producer Javier Grillo-Marxuach,” revealed the insider. “Jorge Garcia (Hurley) was supposed to lose like 40 pounds during the filming of the show because of being on the island without proper food, but that guy just got bigger and bigger. So Javier came up with the idea of a hatch filled with food to explain Hurley’s weight in the second season. Then all of these other things developed from the hatch idea. It was brilliant.”
Hurley will also play a central role in one of the flashbacks of Vincent the dog. According to the insider, the flashback will relive a moment early on during the first season when the airline food runs out on the island and Hurley contemplates eating the dog. But as he prepares to catch Vincent, he discovers that the character Jin already has the dog over a barbecue pit. The dog manages to escape both hungry survivors.
_____________________________
This absolutely made my day...mainly because I got depressed at My Death Space, a site that shows deceased people who have Myspace.com pages. The most famous may be Taylor Behl, the young Northern Virginia who was killed last year in Richmond. Her story made national headlines, and served as a cruel reminder to choose your friends in this world wisely. Also, the recent shooting in Seattle has added a couple of Myspace profiles to this slightly morbid, slightly touching site.
The one who registered with me - Dave Seeber, a 21 year old kid from Virginia who went to one of my old schools, Virginia Wesleyan College. Like me, he wrote for the Marlin Chronicle, the campus newspaper, and his bearded picture on his Myspace profile reminds me of another fellow VWCer, Pete Fitzgerald, a.k.a. Artiste. He was burly, bearded fellow who had his choice of football scholarships coming out of high school. He instead chose VWC, a small Division III with no football outside of intramurals. He wanted to draw, paint, sculpt and make art, not run two-a-days, lift weights for ten hours a week, and be considered a dumb jock. Dave's visage reminds me a lot of Artiste - same smile, same beard, same clothing style. As I always liked, and even admired Artiste, seeing the similarities of Dave Seeber made both happy at the good memory, and sad to learn he'd taken his own life. There's no doubt that Dave and I would have known each other at the small school, had I been a decade and change younger.
After reading through all the pages of deaths, seeing everything from suicide, car accidents and soldiers dying in Iraq, it is nice to see these recently-deceased still have a slice of themselves that remains exactly as they left it - playing a favorite tune, showing funny pictures and videos, their blogs whose words will be studied by the living remainder to search for clues in their loved one's passing.
Then, the comments - from friends both in person and via the internet. It's a shame most of them don't find out how much they're loved until after they're dead.
Still, to see these people still alive, most of them so young and filled with promise, bravado or depression, does serve as an effective memorial, and provide a snapshot of the living that a cold gravestone can not.
Tuesday, March 14, 2006
No Whammies, No Whammies, STOP!
This, for some reason, has just bummed me the hell out. Peter Tomarken was always one of my favorite game show hosts, and the show "Press Your Luck" holds up very well. He was never trendy, but always stylish. Fun, slightly naughty, but always a great host.
----------------------------------
from The Baltimore Sun
A former TV game show host and his wife were killed Monday morning when their small plane crashed into Santa Monica Bay shortly after takeoff on a volunteer flight for a medical charity, authorities said.
Divers called off a search for a third person late Monday after authorities concluded only two people were on board.
The bodies of Peter Tomarken, 63, host of the hit 1980s game show "Press Your Luck," and his wife, Kathleen Abigail Tomarken, 41, were identified by the Los Angeles County coroner's office.
The plane was on its way to San Diego to ferry a medical patient to the UCLA Medical Center, said Doug Griffith, a spokesman for Angel Flight West, a nonprofit which provides free air transportation for needy patients.
Tomarken, the pilot, was a volunteer for the group. The FAA said the plane was registered to him.
The third person authorities initially believed was on board may have been the patient, said Coast Guard spokesman Tony Migliorini.
"We believe the third person was the person they were going to pick up," he said. "When they filed the flight plan, they said three persons were to be on board. That's why we had to presume they had three and did the search."
The plane apparently had engine trouble and was headed back to Santa Monica Airport, located about two miles inland, but went down in about 19 feet of water about a half-mile southwest of the Santa Monica pier, authorities said.
Luis Garr said he didn't hear the engine but heard the splash as the plane "kind of landed into the water."
"It's a big splash, a huge splash. ... Then it started going down," Garr said. "The wings were still floating so I was, `Get out! Get out!' because the door was still available to get out and nobody came out. So the plane kept going down, down, down."
Tomarken's death was first reported by "Entertainment Tonight."
"Press Your Luck" was known for contestants shouting the slogan "Big bucks! No whammies!"
Tomarken's agent, Fred Wostbrock, said his client's first game show was "Hit Man!," which ran 13 weeks on NBC, followed by the four-year hit "Press Your Luck" on CBS. He also was on "Bargain Hunters," "Wipe-Out" and "Paranoia."
"He was always a fun guy to be around, and he just loved the genre of game shows," Wostbrock said.
--------------------------------
----------------------------------
from The Baltimore Sun
A former TV game show host and his wife were killed Monday morning when their small plane crashed into Santa Monica Bay shortly after takeoff on a volunteer flight for a medical charity, authorities said.
Divers called off a search for a third person late Monday after authorities concluded only two people were on board.
The bodies of Peter Tomarken, 63, host of the hit 1980s game show "Press Your Luck," and his wife, Kathleen Abigail Tomarken, 41, were identified by the Los Angeles County coroner's office.
The plane was on its way to San Diego to ferry a medical patient to the UCLA Medical Center, said Doug Griffith, a spokesman for Angel Flight West, a nonprofit which provides free air transportation for needy patients.
Tomarken, the pilot, was a volunteer for the group. The FAA said the plane was registered to him.
The third person authorities initially believed was on board may have been the patient, said Coast Guard spokesman Tony Migliorini.
"We believe the third person was the person they were going to pick up," he said. "When they filed the flight plan, they said three persons were to be on board. That's why we had to presume they had three and did the search."
The plane apparently had engine trouble and was headed back to Santa Monica Airport, located about two miles inland, but went down in about 19 feet of water about a half-mile southwest of the Santa Monica pier, authorities said.
Luis Garr said he didn't hear the engine but heard the splash as the plane "kind of landed into the water."
"It's a big splash, a huge splash. ... Then it started going down," Garr said. "The wings were still floating so I was, `Get out! Get out!' because the door was still available to get out and nobody came out. So the plane kept going down, down, down."
Tomarken's death was first reported by "Entertainment Tonight."
"Press Your Luck" was known for contestants shouting the slogan "Big bucks! No whammies!"
Tomarken's agent, Fred Wostbrock, said his client's first game show was "Hit Man!," which ran 13 weeks on NBC, followed by the four-year hit "Press Your Luck" on CBS. He also was on "Bargain Hunters," "Wipe-Out" and "Paranoia."
"He was always a fun guy to be around, and he just loved the genre of game shows," Wostbrock said.
--------------------------------
Monday, March 06, 2006
I've come to wish you an unhappy birthday
I turned 33 yesterday. There was much rejoicing.
Why do we rejoice? Has anybody ever just gotten joiced right the first time?
Your Birthday - to the tune of The Love Boat:
You, your days flying by
Getting old. You're going to die.
Death, life's sole guarantee.
Gonna crock, it's true for you and me.
Your Birthday! You escaped from you mother's womb
Your Birthday! Another step towards the tomb
You can try to out run it,
but you'll fail, it's true.
and Life...it's slipping away
To a grave...and you'll turn to gooo!.
Yes Death!! It's Death! ! (hey-ah!)
Your birthday!
You escaped from your mother's womb;
Your birthday!
Another step towards to the tomb!
You can try to out run it,
but you'll fail, it's true.
and Life...it's sliping away
to a grave...where you'll turn to goo!
It's Death! It's Death! It's
Death!
Your Birthday! You're Birthday!
Why do we rejoice? Has anybody ever just gotten joiced right the first time?
Your Birthday - to the tune of The Love Boat:
You, your days flying by
Getting old. You're going to die.
Death, life's sole guarantee.
Gonna crock, it's true for you and me.
Your Birthday! You escaped from you mother's womb
Your Birthday! Another step towards the tomb
You can try to out run it,
but you'll fail, it's true.
and Life...it's slipping away
To a grave...and you'll turn to gooo!.
Yes Death!! It's Death! ! (hey-ah!)
Your birthday!
You escaped from your mother's womb;
Your birthday!
Another step towards to the tomb!
You can try to out run it,
but you'll fail, it's true.
and Life...it's sliping away
to a grave...where you'll turn to goo!
It's Death! It's Death! It's
Death!
Your Birthday! You're Birthday!
Friday, February 24, 2006
Why America doesn't care about the Olympics
1) It was much more dramatic when the US' AMATEUR athletes competed against the world. Our college basketball players were better than the world's pro players. Now, it's almost all pros against pros, and a lot of the drama is gone. The Dream Team was amazing to watch that first year, and then got lousier every Olympics afterwards.
The Miracle on Ice was amazing because those were college kids who beat the Best Team on the Planet. It'd be like Des Moines' Polk High beating the Patriots in football, or Uganda's 14-and-under development team beating Man U in the other football.
Without that potential for drama, it's simply not compelling.
2) 20 years ago, they were the only things on TV. Not the case anymore. The fact that American Idol beat the living hell out of the Olympics says a lot. Either people love Simon Cowell, or hate Dick Buttons.
3) Tape delay - when we were younger, we had the Lake Placid, Los Angeles, Atlanta and Calgary games all in our relative time zones. When the Games are in Australia, Greece, Norway, Italy...it's harder to watch. We want instant access to our broadcasts, not tape delays.
4) The Olympics are every 2 years now. There's not that four year hype buildup. I was actually shocked the Olympics were this year. Coulda swore we just had one.
5) Ice skating was always a big television draw in the old days. Now, skating's on regular broadcasts more often, and less unique. Hell, celebrities skate now.
If you have a loose definition for the term "celebrity."
6) Women's Gymnasts - Please, let's call it what the event is - Pint-Sized 12 Year-Old Girls with Pushy Parents. These girls aren't women yet, PERIOD! End of discussion. Put in an age limit before we start getting dancing embryos in frilly skirts.
7) There's no enemy anymore. When we were kids, it was the West vs. the East. NATO vs. the Eastern Bloc. USA vs. USSR. US vs. Them. The Miracle on Ice.
Now, the veil's been lifted, and we've seen the enemy, and they look like us. It's hard to get amped up over a US vs. Latvia match-up. Even in our current war(s), the Afghani and Iraqi people aren't REALLY our enemy, so, in a way, the competitive level for the bigger nations simply isn't there. "Wow, we beat Togo...wow?"
8) They're predictable. The Nigerian will win the long-distance running, the Americans and Aussies will win the swimming, the Brits win the equestrian, the skinny dude will win the cycling, the Canadians or Russians will win the hockey, the Germans will win most of the shooting events, and the Europeans will snag the skiing medals, and the American and Canadians will get the snowboarding medals. There, I'm 90% accurate and I saved you hours of TV time. Go read a book to celebrate.
9) Hate to break this to the world, but MOST OF THESE SPORTS SUCK!!!!!!! ESPN 8, The Ocho, wouldn't broadcast half this crap. If the biathalon were on TV every week, it'd be lower rated than "Love Monkey." The only reason people watch the luge, bobsled and ski jumping events is because somebody might wipe out spectacularly. And women's figure skating is only viewed by women and lonely, horny men.
If those girls had to put on proper clothing, the ratings would drop like a fat bungee jumper.
The Miracle on Ice was amazing because those were college kids who beat the Best Team on the Planet. It'd be like Des Moines' Polk High beating the Patriots in football, or Uganda's 14-and-under development team beating Man U in the other football.
Without that potential for drama, it's simply not compelling.
2) 20 years ago, they were the only things on TV. Not the case anymore. The fact that American Idol beat the living hell out of the Olympics says a lot. Either people love Simon Cowell, or hate Dick Buttons.
3) Tape delay - when we were younger, we had the Lake Placid, Los Angeles, Atlanta and Calgary games all in our relative time zones. When the Games are in Australia, Greece, Norway, Italy...it's harder to watch. We want instant access to our broadcasts, not tape delays.
4) The Olympics are every 2 years now. There's not that four year hype buildup. I was actually shocked the Olympics were this year. Coulda swore we just had one.
5) Ice skating was always a big television draw in the old days. Now, skating's on regular broadcasts more often, and less unique. Hell, celebrities skate now.
If you have a loose definition for the term "celebrity."
6) Women's Gymnasts - Please, let's call it what the event is - Pint-Sized 12 Year-Old Girls with Pushy Parents. These girls aren't women yet, PERIOD! End of discussion. Put in an age limit before we start getting dancing embryos in frilly skirts.
7) There's no enemy anymore. When we were kids, it was the West vs. the East. NATO vs. the Eastern Bloc. USA vs. USSR. US vs. Them. The Miracle on Ice.
Now, the veil's been lifted, and we've seen the enemy, and they look like us. It's hard to get amped up over a US vs. Latvia match-up. Even in our current war(s), the Afghani and Iraqi people aren't REALLY our enemy, so, in a way, the competitive level for the bigger nations simply isn't there. "Wow, we beat Togo...wow?"
8) They're predictable. The Nigerian will win the long-distance running, the Americans and Aussies will win the swimming, the Brits win the equestrian, the skinny dude will win the cycling, the Canadians or Russians will win the hockey, the Germans will win most of the shooting events, and the Europeans will snag the skiing medals, and the American and Canadians will get the snowboarding medals. There, I'm 90% accurate and I saved you hours of TV time. Go read a book to celebrate.
9) Hate to break this to the world, but MOST OF THESE SPORTS SUCK!!!!!!! ESPN 8, The Ocho, wouldn't broadcast half this crap. If the biathalon were on TV every week, it'd be lower rated than "Love Monkey." The only reason people watch the luge, bobsled and ski jumping events is because somebody might wipe out spectacularly. And women's figure skating is only viewed by women and lonely, horny men.
If those girls had to put on proper clothing, the ratings would drop like a fat bungee jumper.
Tuesday, February 21, 2006
Flopsweat!
When I was a baby deejay, my radio station hired a new overnight guy. He was a chubby stupid kid with a lousy voice - about the only guy willing to stay up all night in Ocean City making 8 bucks an hour.
He came on the air after my show, and I tried to loosen him up, because I could tell he was a bundle of nerves. We had MAYBE 100 listeners at overnight, maybe 150, so, he had no need to be nervous, but nervous he was. I was a little peeved he showed up five minutes before his shift, but, hey, I don't pay the checks.
ME: Alright, my time is just about done this evening, but please continue to listen to the X because we have a very talented young man hitting the airwaves tonight. So, Dude (not knowing what his radio name is, I improvised), talk to me. What's your name?
DUDE: Uh.... uh...
ME: Damn, I've stumped him already. How'd those SATs work out for you, negative -200 on the English. What's your name?
HIM: Uh... (he does this for 30 seconds)
ME: Wow...you are a man truly with a gift of speech. You guys working all night at Togo's Pizza are in for a treat tonight (look at me giving a shout-out to the advertisers!!!), so, everybody, enjoy this night with Mystery Man deejay. This is (some crappy alt-rock song from 1995) on X 106 point 9
ME: (turns off mic) : Dude, you are aware that one of the vital things of being a deejay is the ability to speak into a microphone, right?
DUDE: (eyes roll back into head) Um...uh...
DUDE is passed out. On falling, he hits the CD cart machine, knocking it four or five songs in advance. His milkshake pours all over a stack of discs. ME has to get back on the air, quick.
ME: (flipping on mic) That sound is brought to you by Dude, who is simply passed out (ME starts cracking up) I mean, striaght up, this guy was standing next to me 20 seconds ago...and ...he he he... he wiped out ON the desk, and the floor. I wish I had a camera, this is brilliant...(ME really cracks up) Hehehehehehahahahahah!!! This station hired a mute deejay....good Lord...(getting serious) is he even alive? Dude is OUT, and his damned milkshake spilled everywhere. He just nailed the new Supergrass disc...covered in McDonald's milkshake...this is great...this guy...Dude! DUDE!! Wake up! (ME pauses) Oh well, I guess I'm doing overnight shift tonight, call me on the request line at..."
DUDE: ungggh
ME : Dude's coming to!
DUDE: uh...
ME : You alright? You just passed out.
DUDE: ungggh.. my...ouch...
ME: (cues a CD) here's (some other crappy 1995 alt-rock song) and I'll see if Dude's ok.
OFF MIC -
Me: Damn, man. That looked painful.
DUDE: I'm Johnny.
Me: Hey Johnny. First night as a deejay?
DUDE: Yeah.
Me: you need some water, chips? something?
DUDE: Nah, I'm cool.
Me: you ok to go on?
DUDE: I don't know. Little dizzy.
Me: (realizing I'm going to be pulling an all-nighter) How about I hang out with you for a bit `til I know you're OK?
DUDE: Yeah
Me: So, you know how to follow a playlist?
DUDE: No
Me: HUH?!?!?!?
DUDE: What's that?
Me: A list of songs that you need to play. Computer over there shoots it out for us.
DUDE: I don't get to play what I want?
Me: No!
DUDE: Damn
Me: You know how to use a board?
Dude: this thing you're using?
Me: Yeah
Dude: No
Me: DAMN!
Dude: Sorry...
Me: It's ok, I'll teach you. Now, first off, what's your radio name?
Dude : Huh?
Me: GAH!!! You need a radio name.
Dude: Well, what should I be?
Me: Well, what's your name?
Dude: Johnny (somethin or another)
Me : (looks at the milkshake debris and the fact he needs protection...) Condom.
Dude: What?
Me: Johnny Condom. That's your name.
Johnny Condom: Cool.
For the next hour or two, I show him how the control board works, how to read a play list, how to front sell, how to back sell, how to read our weather and news machine. By 2am, I figure he's good to run solo. We start off with just him talking, and I'll run the board.
Johnny Condom : (says nothing)
ME: (whispering) speak...
Johnny Condom : Uh, hi. I'm Johnny Condom. (pauses...then comes a complete halt)
ME: talk more...
Johnny Condom: OK... (stops again)
ME: who played that song?
Johnny Condom: That was Nirvana?
ME: Good! What song was it?
Johnny Condom: I don't know
ME: Read the sheet
Johnny Condom: Oh.
ME: Well, what song was it? Tell the nice audience
Johnny Condom: Uh, it was the one Bowie did
ME: Good enough.
The rest of the evening went a lot like that.
Needless to say, when the morning show guys showed up at 5:30, they weren't shocked to see me still there. Both had listened to this audio trainwreck on the way in to work, and the ironic thing was that one of the morning show guys was also the INCREDIBLY cheap station owner...the guy who hired Johnny Condom.
JJ (aka cheap statio owner) : He's not ready for prime-time, is he?
ME: Nope. He's pretty awful.
JJ: I'm not paying you for the past six hours.
ME: Whatever.
Johnny Condom's radio career lasted three weeks. Other highlights included him breaking the stool in the studio - which I sat on the next night and damned near killed myself in the process - and saying "Oh F*ck!" on the air.
God Bless Johnny Condom
He came on the air after my show, and I tried to loosen him up, because I could tell he was a bundle of nerves. We had MAYBE 100 listeners at overnight, maybe 150, so, he had no need to be nervous, but nervous he was. I was a little peeved he showed up five minutes before his shift, but, hey, I don't pay the checks.
ME: Alright, my time is just about done this evening, but please continue to listen to the X because we have a very talented young man hitting the airwaves tonight. So, Dude (not knowing what his radio name is, I improvised), talk to me. What's your name?
DUDE: Uh.... uh...
ME: Damn, I've stumped him already. How'd those SATs work out for you, negative -200 on the English. What's your name?
HIM: Uh... (he does this for 30 seconds)
ME: Wow...you are a man truly with a gift of speech. You guys working all night at Togo's Pizza are in for a treat tonight (look at me giving a shout-out to the advertisers!!!), so, everybody, enjoy this night with Mystery Man deejay. This is (some crappy alt-rock song from 1995) on X 106 point 9
ME: (turns off mic) : Dude, you are aware that one of the vital things of being a deejay is the ability to speak into a microphone, right?
DUDE: (eyes roll back into head) Um...uh...
DUDE is passed out. On falling, he hits the CD cart machine, knocking it four or five songs in advance. His milkshake pours all over a stack of discs. ME has to get back on the air, quick.
ME: (flipping on mic) That sound is brought to you by Dude, who is simply passed out (ME starts cracking up) I mean, striaght up, this guy was standing next to me 20 seconds ago...and ...he he he... he wiped out ON the desk, and the floor. I wish I had a camera, this is brilliant...(ME really cracks up) Hehehehehehahahahahah!!! This station hired a mute deejay....good Lord...(getting serious) is he even alive? Dude is OUT, and his damned milkshake spilled everywhere. He just nailed the new Supergrass disc...covered in McDonald's milkshake...this is great...this guy...Dude! DUDE!! Wake up! (ME pauses) Oh well, I guess I'm doing overnight shift tonight, call me on the request line at..."
DUDE: ungggh
ME : Dude's coming to!
DUDE: uh...
ME : You alright? You just passed out.
DUDE: ungggh.. my...ouch...
ME: (cues a CD) here's (some other crappy 1995 alt-rock song) and I'll see if Dude's ok.
OFF MIC -
Me: Damn, man. That looked painful.
DUDE: I'm Johnny.
Me: Hey Johnny. First night as a deejay?
DUDE: Yeah.
Me: you need some water, chips? something?
DUDE: Nah, I'm cool.
Me: you ok to go on?
DUDE: I don't know. Little dizzy.
Me: (realizing I'm going to be pulling an all-nighter) How about I hang out with you for a bit `til I know you're OK?
DUDE: Yeah
Me: So, you know how to follow a playlist?
DUDE: No
Me: HUH?!?!?!?
DUDE: What's that?
Me: A list of songs that you need to play. Computer over there shoots it out for us.
DUDE: I don't get to play what I want?
Me: No!
DUDE: Damn
Me: You know how to use a board?
Dude: this thing you're using?
Me: Yeah
Dude: No
Me: DAMN!
Dude: Sorry...
Me: It's ok, I'll teach you. Now, first off, what's your radio name?
Dude : Huh?
Me: GAH!!! You need a radio name.
Dude: Well, what should I be?
Me: Well, what's your name?
Dude: Johnny (somethin or another)
Me : (looks at the milkshake debris and the fact he needs protection...) Condom.
Dude: What?
Me: Johnny Condom. That's your name.
Johnny Condom: Cool.
For the next hour or two, I show him how the control board works, how to read a play list, how to front sell, how to back sell, how to read our weather and news machine. By 2am, I figure he's good to run solo. We start off with just him talking, and I'll run the board.
Johnny Condom : (says nothing)
ME: (whispering) speak...
Johnny Condom : Uh, hi. I'm Johnny Condom. (pauses...then comes a complete halt)
ME: talk more...
Johnny Condom: OK... (stops again)
ME: who played that song?
Johnny Condom: That was Nirvana?
ME: Good! What song was it?
Johnny Condom: I don't know
ME: Read the sheet
Johnny Condom: Oh.
ME: Well, what song was it? Tell the nice audience
Johnny Condom: Uh, it was the one Bowie did
ME: Good enough.
The rest of the evening went a lot like that.
Needless to say, when the morning show guys showed up at 5:30, they weren't shocked to see me still there. Both had listened to this audio trainwreck on the way in to work, and the ironic thing was that one of the morning show guys was also the INCREDIBLY cheap station owner...the guy who hired Johnny Condom.
JJ (aka cheap statio owner) : He's not ready for prime-time, is he?
ME: Nope. He's pretty awful.
JJ: I'm not paying you for the past six hours.
ME: Whatever.
Johnny Condom's radio career lasted three weeks. Other highlights included him breaking the stool in the studio - which I sat on the next night and damned near killed myself in the process - and saying "Oh F*ck!" on the air.
God Bless Johnny Condom
Does an empty museum dream of exhibits? - Reviewed by the Five Paragraph Bitter Museum Critic
I'm branching out, people. Why limit myself to reviewing movies when my bitterness is much, much deeper.
The National Building Museum is a wonderful piece of old brick architecture in the middle of concrete-and-marble Washington, D.C. Soaring ceilings, high marble columns in the grand hall, great sight lines...it's truly something to see.
However, there's next to nothing in the museum as far as displays and exhibits. Some fascinating pictures of the changing of Washington from a quiet government town to a major city, a couple of displays of the Jewish influence in DC...and that's about it. I don't get it - more than half the space is wide-open. I mean, nada. Nuthin'. Zippy. There is thousands of square feet of available display space. They closed a display so they could put another one in the same place...while an identically-sized space across the hall is wide-open.
This place is emptier than the Young Republicans' booth at Wellesley College. I've gotten more substance in a Jessica Simpson music video (on mute, of course), and, after touring the Museum, feel a new-found sympathy for Nick Lachey.
Needless to say, the NBM, while pretty, is now the weakest Smithsonian I've seen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2 out of 7 Whammies! - and that's because the Museum looks cool and has a killer gift shop. Five Whammies! were deducted because they have five empty exhibit halls and can be thoroughly scanned in five minutes.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The National Building Museum is a wonderful piece of old brick architecture in the middle of concrete-and-marble Washington, D.C. Soaring ceilings, high marble columns in the grand hall, great sight lines...it's truly something to see.
However, there's next to nothing in the museum as far as displays and exhibits. Some fascinating pictures of the changing of Washington from a quiet government town to a major city, a couple of displays of the Jewish influence in DC...and that's about it. I don't get it - more than half the space is wide-open. I mean, nada. Nuthin'. Zippy. There is thousands of square feet of available display space. They closed a display so they could put another one in the same place...while an identically-sized space across the hall is wide-open.
This place is emptier than the Young Republicans' booth at Wellesley College. I've gotten more substance in a Jessica Simpson music video (on mute, of course), and, after touring the Museum, feel a new-found sympathy for Nick Lachey.
Needless to say, the NBM, while pretty, is now the weakest Smithsonian I've seen.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
2 out of 7 Whammies! - and that's because the Museum looks cool and has a killer gift shop. Five Whammies! were deducted because they have five empty exhibit halls and can be thoroughly scanned in five minutes.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Monday, February 13, 2006
Chaney's Got a Gun - courtesy of Aerosmith
Cheney's Got a Gun
Cheney's Got a Gun
He's proving he's really dumb
He's shootin' at everyone
What did his buddy do?
To get shot in the head by you?
They said when Cheney was a' shootin'
He would be shootin' at some game
But his man, he had it comin' now that Cheneys got a gun
His lawyer ain't ever gonna be the same.
Chaney's got a gun
Chaney's got a gun
His hunting day just begun
Now everybody is on the run
Tell me now it's untrue.
What did his lawyer do?
He got shot by Dick Chene
The man has got to be insane
They say the buckshot that he took to the midsection and the face
put that 78 year old man in the pain
Run away, run away from the Cheney yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Run away run away from the Cheney yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Run away, run away, run, run away
Cheney's got a gun
Cheney's got a gun
His hunting day'd just begun
Now everybody is on the run
What did that lawyer do?
To make Cheney fire through?
He had to go quail hunting and put a bullet in his brain
He said 'cause I ain't no quail' but Cheney was a'shootin'
His face ain't never gonna be the same.
Run away, run away from the Cheney yeah, yeah
yeah yeah yeah
Run away run away from the Cheney yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Run away, run away, run, run away
Cheney's got a gun
Cheney's got a gun
Cheney's got a gun
Everybody is on the run
Cheney's Got a Gun
He's proving he's really dumb
He's shootin' at everyone
What did his buddy do?
To get shot in the head by you?
They said when Cheney was a' shootin'
He would be shootin' at some game
But his man, he had it comin' now that Cheneys got a gun
His lawyer ain't ever gonna be the same.
Chaney's got a gun
Chaney's got a gun
His hunting day just begun
Now everybody is on the run
Tell me now it's untrue.
What did his lawyer do?
He got shot by Dick Chene
The man has got to be insane
They say the buckshot that he took to the midsection and the face
put that 78 year old man in the pain
Run away, run away from the Cheney yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Run away run away from the Cheney yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Run away, run away, run, run away
Cheney's got a gun
Cheney's got a gun
His hunting day'd just begun
Now everybody is on the run
What did that lawyer do?
To make Cheney fire through?
He had to go quail hunting and put a bullet in his brain
He said 'cause I ain't no quail' but Cheney was a'shootin'
His face ain't never gonna be the same.
Run away, run away from the Cheney yeah, yeah
yeah yeah yeah
Run away run away from the Cheney yeah yeah
yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah
Run away, run away, run, run away
Cheney's got a gun
Cheney's got a gun
Cheney's got a gun
Everybody is on the run
Cheney's Got a Gun
Proposed Slogans for the Dick Chaney Annual Quail Shoot...
"Giving Shotguns to Nearsighted Senile Politicians Since 1994!"
"For a Different Kind of Facial"
"Where Hot Lead Meets the Chest"
"Quail Shooting Optional"
"Confusing Grown Men for 5 Pound Birds since 2006!"
"I'm Dick Cheney and I'll Shoot Who I Want, Bucko"
"Ability to Aim Not Neccessary!"
Twisted Tune en route...
"Giving Shotguns to Nearsighted Senile Politicians Since 1994!"
"For a Different Kind of Facial"
"Where Hot Lead Meets the Chest"
"Quail Shooting Optional"
"Confusing Grown Men for 5 Pound Birds since 2006!"
"I'm Dick Cheney and I'll Shoot Who I Want, Bucko"
"Ability to Aim Not Neccessary!"
Twisted Tune en route...
Friday, February 10, 2006
The Longest Yard - Reviewed by the Five Paragraph Bitter Film Critic
This movie made me look at my home theater, in all of its Dolby 5.1 splendor, and think it was absolutely all bought in vain. For by watching the remake of The Longest Yard at my place, it would be like the Louvre displaying children's fridge art, or the Met doing a retrospective on "Can You Draw Skippy?" It's an understatement to call this the worst movie I've seen since "Day After Tomorrow." This movie isn't even close. The movie has more problems than the self-help section of Border's.
Allow me to explain - Adam Sandler plays Paul Crewe, the role made famous by Burt Reynolds in the original. Crewe is supposed to be the quinessential sexy bad boy that all the ladies love, which was easy for Reynolds to pull off. Sandler, however, has the sex appeal of week-old McDonald's food. He has next-to-no athletic ability - hell, I look more like a NFL quarterback than he does - and really seems to be sleepwalking through this movie. He turns Crewe into a slack drunkard with zero charisma and a bad attitude to boot, and while he's funny when carted off to prison, that's about it. The only reason Crewe Part Deux becomes likable is because the people who run the prison are even worse.
I'm stunned that Texas prisons have Guard football leagues, and I'm stunned that the warden (played by Babe's owner, James Cromwell)would hire former college and NFL players to be in this league. And, oh, they're naughty prison guards, too! They beat the prisoners! They're racists! They take steroids! The warden will use anybody for his political future! But, such stereotypes aren't meant to be realistic, only to push the paper-thin plot past holes the size of Tony Siragusa.
The only delightful thing in this movie is to see the massive amount of cameos and stunt-castings. Former NFL players Bill Romanowski, Michael Irvin, Brian Bosworth, and Terry Crews all get plenty of screentime, and former NFL lineman and pro wrestler Goldberg actually gives a strong performance. I guess all that acting in wrestling paid off. Also, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Kevin Nash, Nelly, Dan Patrick, Red McCombs, Jay Glazer, Peter King, Chris Berman and anybody else without a shred of dignity was in it.
Please, do not see this movie unless you hate yourself or are Mrs. Adam Sandler.
*******************************************************************************
2 out of 17 Whammies! The only saving graces were Goldberg's surprising ability to act and all the cameos. I subtracted 15 Whammies for each time I said aloud "I can't believe I'm watching this shit." Once again, Chris Rock can't find a decent movie to save his scrawny ass.
*******************************************************************************
Allow me to explain - Adam Sandler plays Paul Crewe, the role made famous by Burt Reynolds in the original. Crewe is supposed to be the quinessential sexy bad boy that all the ladies love, which was easy for Reynolds to pull off. Sandler, however, has the sex appeal of week-old McDonald's food. He has next-to-no athletic ability - hell, I look more like a NFL quarterback than he does - and really seems to be sleepwalking through this movie. He turns Crewe into a slack drunkard with zero charisma and a bad attitude to boot, and while he's funny when carted off to prison, that's about it. The only reason Crewe Part Deux becomes likable is because the people who run the prison are even worse.
I'm stunned that Texas prisons have Guard football leagues, and I'm stunned that the warden (played by Babe's owner, James Cromwell)would hire former college and NFL players to be in this league. And, oh, they're naughty prison guards, too! They beat the prisoners! They're racists! They take steroids! The warden will use anybody for his political future! But, such stereotypes aren't meant to be realistic, only to push the paper-thin plot past holes the size of Tony Siragusa.
The only delightful thing in this movie is to see the massive amount of cameos and stunt-castings. Former NFL players Bill Romanowski, Michael Irvin, Brian Bosworth, and Terry Crews all get plenty of screentime, and former NFL lineman and pro wrestler Goldberg actually gives a strong performance. I guess all that acting in wrestling paid off. Also, Stone Cold Steve Austin, Kevin Nash, Nelly, Dan Patrick, Red McCombs, Jay Glazer, Peter King, Chris Berman and anybody else without a shred of dignity was in it.
Please, do not see this movie unless you hate yourself or are Mrs. Adam Sandler.
*******************************************************************************
2 out of 17 Whammies! The only saving graces were Goldberg's surprising ability to act and all the cameos. I subtracted 15 Whammies for each time I said aloud "I can't believe I'm watching this shit." Once again, Chris Rock can't find a decent movie to save his scrawny ass.
*******************************************************************************
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
A Garfield of Mass Destruction
The global protests over the political cartoons in Europe which have angered many Muslims have become deadly again, with four people dying in Afghanistan today. Combine this with the torching of the Danish embassy in Iran, riots in Lebanon, and protests amongst the Islamic communities in Europe, and this thing has gone from the ridiculous to the sublime.
Let's put it this way - four people in Afghanistan have died over a cartoon. Now, in reality, they got out of hand and disobeyed police orders. But I have never seen anybody in America take to the streets over a particularly racy "Family Circus" where Jeffy and "Not Me" catch the neighbor's wife in an amourous pose with Daddy. Nobody in England has taken to arms and attacked Parliament because "Get Fuzzy" was a tad too naughty one day, and the ink blurred the view of the Page 3 girls.
The outrage over these cartoons does prove one vital thing - the West is losing the war for the Hearts, Minds and Wallets of the Islamic World.
When it appeared that NATO and the Warsaw Pact countries would fight each other in a never-ending game of weapons collections, along came the calvary in the form of Levis, McDonalds and video games. The Soviets weren't souless monsters - they just needed a good shopping mall. The Western culture won the war the B2 Bomber couldn't.
When it appeared Japan and the US would fight it out for global economic dominance, it wasn't a well-played interest rate deduction by the Fed or brilliant moves by Wall Street that swung the balance in the US' favor. It was the pervasiveness of the American culture to allow its icons to burn so brightly in the Japanese mindset that their investors didn't mind paying well-above-market value for high-profile properties. When the real estate market collapsed a couple of years later, the Japanese firms were left paying incredible loans for devalued properties.
What's happening in Islam is that this religion has managed to fight tooth-and-nail to keep from being even slightly assimilated by the Western culture. Ideas like freedom of the press and relative indifference towards religion have not taken hold like it has in the West. When shows like Family Guy can draw God in bed with a woman, or Drawn Together can show God in a "glory hole" - two strong images that were meant to offend Christian conservatives - gather nary a peep of complaint, that indicates most Westerners don't get too bothered about cartoon images. However, dare show a drawn image of the Prophet, and it's time to riot!
What's more offensive? A cartoon of a blasphemous image, in which the Family Guy, Drawn Together, and political cartoons in question all are , or the fact that people have died in these subsequent protests?
Do these protests prove the very predujices many Westerners feel towards Muslims, or is this yet another demonstration that Henry Kissinger's assertion that there will never be peace in the Middle East is true?
Let's put it this way - four people in Afghanistan have died over a cartoon. Now, in reality, they got out of hand and disobeyed police orders. But I have never seen anybody in America take to the streets over a particularly racy "Family Circus" where Jeffy and "Not Me" catch the neighbor's wife in an amourous pose with Daddy. Nobody in England has taken to arms and attacked Parliament because "Get Fuzzy" was a tad too naughty one day, and the ink blurred the view of the Page 3 girls.
The outrage over these cartoons does prove one vital thing - the West is losing the war for the Hearts, Minds and Wallets of the Islamic World.
When it appeared that NATO and the Warsaw Pact countries would fight each other in a never-ending game of weapons collections, along came the calvary in the form of Levis, McDonalds and video games. The Soviets weren't souless monsters - they just needed a good shopping mall. The Western culture won the war the B2 Bomber couldn't.
When it appeared Japan and the US would fight it out for global economic dominance, it wasn't a well-played interest rate deduction by the Fed or brilliant moves by Wall Street that swung the balance in the US' favor. It was the pervasiveness of the American culture to allow its icons to burn so brightly in the Japanese mindset that their investors didn't mind paying well-above-market value for high-profile properties. When the real estate market collapsed a couple of years later, the Japanese firms were left paying incredible loans for devalued properties.
What's happening in Islam is that this religion has managed to fight tooth-and-nail to keep from being even slightly assimilated by the Western culture. Ideas like freedom of the press and relative indifference towards religion have not taken hold like it has in the West. When shows like Family Guy can draw God in bed with a woman, or Drawn Together can show God in a "glory hole" - two strong images that were meant to offend Christian conservatives - gather nary a peep of complaint, that indicates most Westerners don't get too bothered about cartoon images. However, dare show a drawn image of the Prophet, and it's time to riot!
What's more offensive? A cartoon of a blasphemous image, in which the Family Guy, Drawn Together, and political cartoons in question all are , or the fact that people have died in these subsequent protests?
Do these protests prove the very predujices many Westerners feel towards Muslims, or is this yet another demonstration that Henry Kissinger's assertion that there will never be peace in the Middle East is true?
Friday, February 03, 2006
Why I love my hometown
I wish I could film this...from the Baltimore Sun...
----------------
Police are looking for a jogger who kicked a toy poodle so hard that it landed on the other side of an Edgewater street, leaving it paralyzed.
The 9-year-old, 4 1/2 -pound poodle named Jacquelyn was at a veterinary hospital in Annapolis yesterday, paralyzed from the neck down. It is unclear whether the paralysis is from structural damage or traumatic shock.
Witnesses told Anne Arundel County police that the jogger kicked the dog three times after it ran up to him barking and nipping at his heels just before 9 a.m.
Janice Tippett, the poodle's owner, told The Capital newspaper, "This guy is so bad. She did not deserve that. Neither me or her ever hurt anybody."
Tippett said she had opened the garage door to her townhouse just as the man jogged by and Jacquelyn ran out, barking.
Tippett said the man shoved Jacquelyn with his foot as the dog came up on his heels. Then he turned and kicked the animal and "stopped and did it again."
----------
Ah, yes, I can see it now...soft camera focus on a small town on the water, right at golden light, small haze coming from the water, Bruce Springsteen's "My Hometown" fades up...
I'm almost 33, live in Northern Virginia and have a sensible career with a sensible Defense contractor. My mother just moved from Edgewater last month, so I have little-to-no-reason to return, but stories like this show me that no matter how much the town has changed, it'll never change.
Nearly 400 years ago, as the English settled in Maryland, they set up a trading post and settlement on the shores of the South River, and named it Seaport. It was quickly changed to London Town, and the small settlement grew quickly. The only surviving structure, the London Town Publik House, was a place of commerce, a place of lodging, dining, drinking and a home of ill repute, if a sailor played his cards right. As England poured more resources into the region, they built roads for land-based commerce. Tobacco was so easily grown in the area, and England was making wads of cash from the area. But, the settlement of Annapolis was only five miles north, and while smaller than London Town, and with a shallower harbor, was slightly closer to Baltimore and Philadelphia. Through a political debate both in the colony and in Parliament, the new road was built to Annapolis, not London Town, and a new harbor was dredged in the colony's new capital. London Town fell out of favor as a trading post, and the small bustling community disintegrated.
London Town became buried by the wilderness as Annapolis grew into a real city. It essentially remained barren for years, except with the Publik House serving as a warehouse, a whorehouse, an orphan's asylum and a hulking remnant of what once was. There are other Lost English Towns of the Chesapeake, and, if some Spanish texts are to be believed, a couple of former Spanish outposts buried between the Potomac and the Chesapeake. None of them had a structure like the Publik House, which, for some reason, withstood decades of abuse, neglect, misuse and Maryland's notoriously fickle weather in one piece.
In the late 1800s, with London Town long forgotten and a burgeoning middle class developing in Baltimore and DC, a trip to the beach became a wonderful vacation idea. Places near London Town began to attract weekend and holiday visitors, like nearby Beverly Beach and Shoreham Beach. Large grandstands and concert halls were built along the shores of the Chesapeake and the South River, both on the Annapolis side to the north and the south of Beverly and Shoreham. Anne Arundel County's large waterfront areas, from the Patapsco to the North, the Severn and South Rivers in the middle, and the West River in the South (hey, I didn't name the damned bodies of water, and how the hell you get a West River south of the South River is beyond me) became the getaway places of choice.
Anne Arundel County was a playground for the urban citizens of the nearby cities. Media outlets like the Washington Star and the Washington Post began buying real estate on the peninsula between the South and the West Rivers, enticing would-be subscribers a couple of lots of property in exchange for subscriptions to their papers. The idea worked, and in 1920s, lots of weekend and summer beach cottages were erected. What was once London Town became Woodland Beach. The area between Beverly Beach and Shoreham Beach eventually became known as Mayo and Selby, and the whole thing was called Edgewater by the various governments and the Post Office.
When the Depression hit, many folks couldn't afford their cottages, and so they remained abandoned. Poor folks looking for shelter found it in these cottages, and there was always some work to be found shucking oysters, catching crabs, or working on boats. The communities founded by the newspapers didn't die, but they certainly didn't thrive.
So, Edgewater became pretty blue collar, pretty seedy. Definitely polluted. After the War, industries in both cities dumped their waste materials either in or near the South River. What, were the poor people gonna complain? Hell, would they even notice?
As the seafood industry quietly died, the town's demographics swtiched from nautical to construction workers, auto mechanics, and rednecks. I was born there in 1973, during the height of it's trashiness. Shows like Archie Bunker, Roseanne, Married With Children - those could have easily been set in Edgewater. Just there would have been less racial diversity. I was in kindergarten with a black kid. The black kid. Not just for kindergarten, or even the elementary school. For the whole town.
"My Name is Earl" *SHOULD* have been set in Edgewater. Every one of my neighbors had the glorious Earl Hickey 'stache - including half the women. Tattoos may be hip to the point of becoming cliche' now, but in the straightlaced Cosby Show '80s, tattoos were almost Satanic. Not in good ole' Edgewater, though - Harley drivin' men were more inked out than an NBA point guard and even the chicks had "Budweiser" tats. On their boobs. And exposed them often in public.
And maybe I've watched too much "Earl" - a redneck, white trash criminal decides to right himself through karma - but the thought of karma is simply too delicious for me to pass on. This is a long post - basically an essay - but bear with me, and don't punt the dogma yet.
My family owned a small grocery store in Edgewater. Coming from the hills of Western Pennsylvania, they were just grateful to live in a town that didn't get 20 feet of snow a year. Sure, there were occasional biker gang shoot outs down the street, guys walking in the store with pythons around their necks, and folks smelling like they bathed in Pabst Blue Ribbon. All part of the joys of getting out of Pennsylvania, I guess.
I figured out pretty quickly that I had little in common with Edgewater, when I found I had pretty much zippy skills in auto repair, firefighting or motor skills. I tried to hod rod my Big Wheel with disasterous results. Remember how those things had the plastic lever, like a parking brake, that could allow you to skid out? Well, on a dare from some much bigger and older kids in the neighborhood, I took a box of those 4th of July snapping fireworks, sparklers, a book of matches, and was going to be like my hero, Evel Kinevel, and skid out in a blaze of glory. I pedalled as hard as I could to a tall hill, lit my sparklers and hauled ass down the hill. The sparklers ignited my shirt. The idea was that the SPARKLERS would be on fire, not ME! I freaked out, trying to thow the shirt off me...all while under the power of gravity. I lost control of my Big Wheel while throwing the shirt off, and tumbled down the hill like that Agony of Defeat ski jumper in the old Wide World of Sports intro, except I was ablaze. The snappers fell out of my pockets, sounding like small arms fire as I rolled down the hill. Once I got done tumbling, which felt like 300 feet of agony, I looked at my ruined Big Wheel, my scorched shirt, felt a series of cuts up and down my arms, legs, and head, and the group of 10 or so older kids laughing like they had just seen a nutshot compilation on America's Funniest Home Videos, and I did what any self-respecting six-year old would do - I bawled. Luckily, Grandma was the first to find me, and planted the seed in mom's head that MAYBE I should go to private school in Annapolis. Perhaps Edgewater's public schools weren't for me.
Looking back, it was more like a 20 foot fall, and not steep of a hill. But when you're six, that was a mountain, and the people who lived on top weren't unemployed, but Zeus and Apollo themselves...you know, had I known about Greek mythology then.
Edgewater began to change around 1990, when the South River Colony development was planned. It was a developer's wet dream - great highway and waterway access, and a bunch of dumb poor rednecks sitting in dilapidated shacks. It was no contest. The developers and their slick lawyers managed to avoid most on Anne Arundel County's growth requirements by signing a contract with Edgewater's form of local council, the London Town Property Owners Association. In exchange for tapping into Edgewater's already shoddy sewer and storm drain system, South River Colony would create a sign saying "Welcome to Londontown!"
To give this perspective, this is akin to the Red Sox trading Babe Ruth to the Yankees, but NOT getting enough money to put on "No No Nanette," quite the popular musical. Or, how about when the Cowboys totally suckered the Vikings into trading them the 1990s for Herschel Walker. The Cowboys won three Super Bowls in the wake of that trade and the Vikings...well, they'll always have Lake Minnetonka.
O.K. - a non-sports analogy - trading sewer and storm drain rights for a sign is like going to a car dealership with a 1967 Ford Mustang, garage-kept, 1800 miles on the odometer, pristine condition, and trading it straight up for Scion because you want to try out XM radio.
Or, let's put it in dollar amounts - a MINIMUM of 2.6 million dollars in infrastructure, labor and engineering for a $10,000 sign. And some mums to plant around it.
The LTPOA got played like a wholesome, virginal doe-eyed sweet girl hanging out with the football team's star quarterback in some not-quite-rated-x-bastardization of a John Hughes' movie. There's no Jake Ryan for you, Molly Ringwald, only a massive hangover and 20 years of regrets. Edgewater had a chance for a Flush at the Turn, but lost it at the River.
What really provides the extra kick-in-the-crotch is that the vast majority of the older areas - Woodland, Shoreham and Beverly Beaches - are all on well water, with that water fed from a corrupted, tainted aquifer. There are SO MANY chemicals living in the standard drinking water of this area it's like a who's who of carcinigens. Cadmium? Check. Mercury? Check. That exact same stuff that Evin Brockovich fought against? Check. However, SRC - well, my goodness, isn't this great? You get to have nice, pristine public water piped all the way down from Annapolis. 99.999% pure water. Your water doesn't turn purple or brown, or set off a Geiger counter.
So, this poodle's tale of "whoa" happened in that high-end development, South River Colony. This poodle gets kicked like a keg of Schlitz at a frat party, and makes the Baltimore Sun. The poodle's owner describes how hard it is to provide physical therapy to its little legs and back. I'm sure it was traumatic for her to see her dog go airborne like that beret-catching mutt in European Vacation doing a base jump off the Eiffel Tower.
However, when I was 13, and decided that I wanted to be a professional cyclist, I was riding my bike on a training run through Edgewater pre-South River Colony, when it was just construction workers, mechanics and KKK members, I had an unchained, unfenced Rottweiler mix chase me almost a mile and a 1/2, according to my bike computer, along Shore Drive, down several other streets, weaving through neighborhoods like a furry heatseaker missle. I had one of those long tire pumps that fastened underneath the bike's top tube, and I reached down and swung it at the dog. He was getting dangerously closer to getting my bike, or even me. In one of my manic flails, I actually connected to the side of his head. Bad idea - that only pissed him off more. I was on the roads, and he was cutting through yards. Not fair. Damn dog was tracking me like those bullets Gene Simmons' fired at Tom Selleck in "Runaway," you know, back when Kirstie Alley was still hot? Anyway, as I tried to make a 120 degree turn back on to Shore Drive at about 22 mph, I hit some gravel and wiped out, spinning me away from the bike. The dog caught up to the wreckage and started *eating* my bike. He attacked my rear wheel like a fat kid attacks a fantasy role playing game. He ripped the tire from the rim, and bit through the spokes of the still-spinning wheel. Me, being the brave sub-100 pounder that I was, didn't confront the dog and instead ran like a French infantry unit up a hill and into some older guy's yard. He heard the commotion, and was poking his head out the door to see a bloodied skinny kid wearing cycling shorts - not exactly common in a blue collar town in 1986 - a damaged helmet and a Rottie mutt eating a racing bike outside his front yard. He goes "What in the hell happened to you, kid?"
Breathing heavily, and probably in a bit of shock, I said "I was riding my bike home from a training run when this dog ran out of the woods on Shore Drive over by Mayo Road and started chasing me and wouldn't stop eventhough I was riding as fast as I could and I went around Laurel Road and tried to double back on Shore to lose him when I wiped out and now he's eating my bike and call the cops..." when the guy broke me off and said "You should have pedalled faster, kid." He went back inside and slammed the door.
After a few minutes, the dog got sick of ruining my bike, satisfied he'd made his kill,and ran off back towards the woods. I looked at the wreckage of my bike - luckily, it was a fairly cheap bike, a step above a department store special, but I knew I'd get yelled at by my folks. I also knew they'd never believe that I couldn't outpace a dog, but Cujo-FloJo back there was a different breed. I picked up the pieces of my destroyed rear wheel, some still covered in dog saliva, and walked the remaining mile or so back home.
I eventually told my mom what happened that day, about how I was chased by a crazy mutt, and her words of solace? "You should have gone faster."
So, Ms. Tippett, I'm sorry your dog got treated like an extra point, but it's about time some dogs in Edgewater got some karmic retribution.
And that South River Colony got some, too. Maybe fighting for your slightly less fortunate neighbors - now less redneck than they used to be, and more young professionals with families, looking for somemthing resembling affordable housing as you sit in your golf course McMansions, to get the public water they DESERVE more than your carpet-bagging selves....that'd be a start.
- me
----------------
Police are looking for a jogger who kicked a toy poodle so hard that it landed on the other side of an Edgewater street, leaving it paralyzed.
The 9-year-old, 4 1/2 -pound poodle named Jacquelyn was at a veterinary hospital in Annapolis yesterday, paralyzed from the neck down. It is unclear whether the paralysis is from structural damage or traumatic shock.
Witnesses told Anne Arundel County police that the jogger kicked the dog three times after it ran up to him barking and nipping at his heels just before 9 a.m.
Janice Tippett, the poodle's owner, told The Capital newspaper, "This guy is so bad. She did not deserve that. Neither me or her ever hurt anybody."
Tippett said she had opened the garage door to her townhouse just as the man jogged by and Jacquelyn ran out, barking.
Tippett said the man shoved Jacquelyn with his foot as the dog came up on his heels. Then he turned and kicked the animal and "stopped and did it again."
----------
Ah, yes, I can see it now...soft camera focus on a small town on the water, right at golden light, small haze coming from the water, Bruce Springsteen's "My Hometown" fades up...
I'm almost 33, live in Northern Virginia and have a sensible career with a sensible Defense contractor. My mother just moved from Edgewater last month, so I have little-to-no-reason to return, but stories like this show me that no matter how much the town has changed, it'll never change.
Nearly 400 years ago, as the English settled in Maryland, they set up a trading post and settlement on the shores of the South River, and named it Seaport. It was quickly changed to London Town, and the small settlement grew quickly. The only surviving structure, the London Town Publik House, was a place of commerce, a place of lodging, dining, drinking and a home of ill repute, if a sailor played his cards right. As England poured more resources into the region, they built roads for land-based commerce. Tobacco was so easily grown in the area, and England was making wads of cash from the area. But, the settlement of Annapolis was only five miles north, and while smaller than London Town, and with a shallower harbor, was slightly closer to Baltimore and Philadelphia. Through a political debate both in the colony and in Parliament, the new road was built to Annapolis, not London Town, and a new harbor was dredged in the colony's new capital. London Town fell out of favor as a trading post, and the small bustling community disintegrated.
London Town became buried by the wilderness as Annapolis grew into a real city. It essentially remained barren for years, except with the Publik House serving as a warehouse, a whorehouse, an orphan's asylum and a hulking remnant of what once was. There are other Lost English Towns of the Chesapeake, and, if some Spanish texts are to be believed, a couple of former Spanish outposts buried between the Potomac and the Chesapeake. None of them had a structure like the Publik House, which, for some reason, withstood decades of abuse, neglect, misuse and Maryland's notoriously fickle weather in one piece.
In the late 1800s, with London Town long forgotten and a burgeoning middle class developing in Baltimore and DC, a trip to the beach became a wonderful vacation idea. Places near London Town began to attract weekend and holiday visitors, like nearby Beverly Beach and Shoreham Beach. Large grandstands and concert halls were built along the shores of the Chesapeake and the South River, both on the Annapolis side to the north and the south of Beverly and Shoreham. Anne Arundel County's large waterfront areas, from the Patapsco to the North, the Severn and South Rivers in the middle, and the West River in the South (hey, I didn't name the damned bodies of water, and how the hell you get a West River south of the South River is beyond me) became the getaway places of choice.
Anne Arundel County was a playground for the urban citizens of the nearby cities. Media outlets like the Washington Star and the Washington Post began buying real estate on the peninsula between the South and the West Rivers, enticing would-be subscribers a couple of lots of property in exchange for subscriptions to their papers. The idea worked, and in 1920s, lots of weekend and summer beach cottages were erected. What was once London Town became Woodland Beach. The area between Beverly Beach and Shoreham Beach eventually became known as Mayo and Selby, and the whole thing was called Edgewater by the various governments and the Post Office.
When the Depression hit, many folks couldn't afford their cottages, and so they remained abandoned. Poor folks looking for shelter found it in these cottages, and there was always some work to be found shucking oysters, catching crabs, or working on boats. The communities founded by the newspapers didn't die, but they certainly didn't thrive.
So, Edgewater became pretty blue collar, pretty seedy. Definitely polluted. After the War, industries in both cities dumped their waste materials either in or near the South River. What, were the poor people gonna complain? Hell, would they even notice?
As the seafood industry quietly died, the town's demographics swtiched from nautical to construction workers, auto mechanics, and rednecks. I was born there in 1973, during the height of it's trashiness. Shows like Archie Bunker, Roseanne, Married With Children - those could have easily been set in Edgewater. Just there would have been less racial diversity. I was in kindergarten with a black kid. The black kid. Not just for kindergarten, or even the elementary school. For the whole town.
"My Name is Earl" *SHOULD* have been set in Edgewater. Every one of my neighbors had the glorious Earl Hickey 'stache - including half the women. Tattoos may be hip to the point of becoming cliche' now, but in the straightlaced Cosby Show '80s, tattoos were almost Satanic. Not in good ole' Edgewater, though - Harley drivin' men were more inked out than an NBA point guard and even the chicks had "Budweiser" tats. On their boobs. And exposed them often in public.
And maybe I've watched too much "Earl" - a redneck, white trash criminal decides to right himself through karma - but the thought of karma is simply too delicious for me to pass on. This is a long post - basically an essay - but bear with me, and don't punt the dogma yet.
My family owned a small grocery store in Edgewater. Coming from the hills of Western Pennsylvania, they were just grateful to live in a town that didn't get 20 feet of snow a year. Sure, there were occasional biker gang shoot outs down the street, guys walking in the store with pythons around their necks, and folks smelling like they bathed in Pabst Blue Ribbon. All part of the joys of getting out of Pennsylvania, I guess.
I figured out pretty quickly that I had little in common with Edgewater, when I found I had pretty much zippy skills in auto repair, firefighting or motor skills. I tried to hod rod my Big Wheel with disasterous results. Remember how those things had the plastic lever, like a parking brake, that could allow you to skid out? Well, on a dare from some much bigger and older kids in the neighborhood, I took a box of those 4th of July snapping fireworks, sparklers, a book of matches, and was going to be like my hero, Evel Kinevel, and skid out in a blaze of glory. I pedalled as hard as I could to a tall hill, lit my sparklers and hauled ass down the hill. The sparklers ignited my shirt. The idea was that the SPARKLERS would be on fire, not ME! I freaked out, trying to thow the shirt off me...all while under the power of gravity. I lost control of my Big Wheel while throwing the shirt off, and tumbled down the hill like that Agony of Defeat ski jumper in the old Wide World of Sports intro, except I was ablaze. The snappers fell out of my pockets, sounding like small arms fire as I rolled down the hill. Once I got done tumbling, which felt like 300 feet of agony, I looked at my ruined Big Wheel, my scorched shirt, felt a series of cuts up and down my arms, legs, and head, and the group of 10 or so older kids laughing like they had just seen a nutshot compilation on America's Funniest Home Videos, and I did what any self-respecting six-year old would do - I bawled. Luckily, Grandma was the first to find me, and planted the seed in mom's head that MAYBE I should go to private school in Annapolis. Perhaps Edgewater's public schools weren't for me.
Looking back, it was more like a 20 foot fall, and not steep of a hill. But when you're six, that was a mountain, and the people who lived on top weren't unemployed, but Zeus and Apollo themselves...you know, had I known about Greek mythology then.
Edgewater began to change around 1990, when the South River Colony development was planned. It was a developer's wet dream - great highway and waterway access, and a bunch of dumb poor rednecks sitting in dilapidated shacks. It was no contest. The developers and their slick lawyers managed to avoid most on Anne Arundel County's growth requirements by signing a contract with Edgewater's form of local council, the London Town Property Owners Association. In exchange for tapping into Edgewater's already shoddy sewer and storm drain system, South River Colony would create a sign saying "Welcome to Londontown!"
To give this perspective, this is akin to the Red Sox trading Babe Ruth to the Yankees, but NOT getting enough money to put on "No No Nanette," quite the popular musical. Or, how about when the Cowboys totally suckered the Vikings into trading them the 1990s for Herschel Walker. The Cowboys won three Super Bowls in the wake of that trade and the Vikings...well, they'll always have Lake Minnetonka.
O.K. - a non-sports analogy - trading sewer and storm drain rights for a sign is like going to a car dealership with a 1967 Ford Mustang, garage-kept, 1800 miles on the odometer, pristine condition, and trading it straight up for Scion because you want to try out XM radio.
Or, let's put it in dollar amounts - a MINIMUM of 2.6 million dollars in infrastructure, labor and engineering for a $10,000 sign. And some mums to plant around it.
The LTPOA got played like a wholesome, virginal doe-eyed sweet girl hanging out with the football team's star quarterback in some not-quite-rated-x-bastardization of a John Hughes' movie. There's no Jake Ryan for you, Molly Ringwald, only a massive hangover and 20 years of regrets. Edgewater had a chance for a Flush at the Turn, but lost it at the River.
What really provides the extra kick-in-the-crotch is that the vast majority of the older areas - Woodland, Shoreham and Beverly Beaches - are all on well water, with that water fed from a corrupted, tainted aquifer. There are SO MANY chemicals living in the standard drinking water of this area it's like a who's who of carcinigens. Cadmium? Check. Mercury? Check. That exact same stuff that Evin Brockovich fought against? Check. However, SRC - well, my goodness, isn't this great? You get to have nice, pristine public water piped all the way down from Annapolis. 99.999% pure water. Your water doesn't turn purple or brown, or set off a Geiger counter.
So, this poodle's tale of "whoa" happened in that high-end development, South River Colony. This poodle gets kicked like a keg of Schlitz at a frat party, and makes the Baltimore Sun. The poodle's owner describes how hard it is to provide physical therapy to its little legs and back. I'm sure it was traumatic for her to see her dog go airborne like that beret-catching mutt in European Vacation doing a base jump off the Eiffel Tower.
However, when I was 13, and decided that I wanted to be a professional cyclist, I was riding my bike on a training run through Edgewater pre-South River Colony, when it was just construction workers, mechanics and KKK members, I had an unchained, unfenced Rottweiler mix chase me almost a mile and a 1/2, according to my bike computer, along Shore Drive, down several other streets, weaving through neighborhoods like a furry heatseaker missle. I had one of those long tire pumps that fastened underneath the bike's top tube, and I reached down and swung it at the dog. He was getting dangerously closer to getting my bike, or even me. In one of my manic flails, I actually connected to the side of his head. Bad idea - that only pissed him off more. I was on the roads, and he was cutting through yards. Not fair. Damn dog was tracking me like those bullets Gene Simmons' fired at Tom Selleck in "Runaway," you know, back when Kirstie Alley was still hot? Anyway, as I tried to make a 120 degree turn back on to Shore Drive at about 22 mph, I hit some gravel and wiped out, spinning me away from the bike. The dog caught up to the wreckage and started *eating* my bike. He attacked my rear wheel like a fat kid attacks a fantasy role playing game. He ripped the tire from the rim, and bit through the spokes of the still-spinning wheel. Me, being the brave sub-100 pounder that I was, didn't confront the dog and instead ran like a French infantry unit up a hill and into some older guy's yard. He heard the commotion, and was poking his head out the door to see a bloodied skinny kid wearing cycling shorts - not exactly common in a blue collar town in 1986 - a damaged helmet and a Rottie mutt eating a racing bike outside his front yard. He goes "What in the hell happened to you, kid?"
Breathing heavily, and probably in a bit of shock, I said "I was riding my bike home from a training run when this dog ran out of the woods on Shore Drive over by Mayo Road and started chasing me and wouldn't stop eventhough I was riding as fast as I could and I went around Laurel Road and tried to double back on Shore to lose him when I wiped out and now he's eating my bike and call the cops..." when the guy broke me off and said "You should have pedalled faster, kid." He went back inside and slammed the door.
After a few minutes, the dog got sick of ruining my bike, satisfied he'd made his kill,and ran off back towards the woods. I looked at the wreckage of my bike - luckily, it was a fairly cheap bike, a step above a department store special, but I knew I'd get yelled at by my folks. I also knew they'd never believe that I couldn't outpace a dog, but Cujo-FloJo back there was a different breed. I picked up the pieces of my destroyed rear wheel, some still covered in dog saliva, and walked the remaining mile or so back home.
I eventually told my mom what happened that day, about how I was chased by a crazy mutt, and her words of solace? "You should have gone faster."
So, Ms. Tippett, I'm sorry your dog got treated like an extra point, but it's about time some dogs in Edgewater got some karmic retribution.
And that South River Colony got some, too. Maybe fighting for your slightly less fortunate neighbors - now less redneck than they used to be, and more young professionals with families, looking for somemthing resembling affordable housing as you sit in your golf course McMansions, to get the public water they DESERVE more than your carpet-bagging selves....that'd be a start.
- me
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
oh dear...
Recently, I discovered these two sites:
Dudes in the world of the Flash
and Dudes in the Marvel universe.
...whenever I have a day when I'm not sure if I'm as hip as I think, or that not-so-cool feeling, I take solace in the fact that real human being geeks researched this information from comic books and made a website about it.
And, to really make me find my inner Clooney, I know that there are even bigger geeks out there that will nitpick the hell out of these sites and point out factual errors about fictional characters.
I'll admit to having a fairly short, but intense, X-Men phase in the first couple of years of high school, along with X-Factor, Excalibur and the Wolverine series. But once I discovered the joys of driving, guitars in minor chords and girls, I was done.
Still...it would be f*ckin' cool to have metal claws like Wolverine. I'd have the best cooking show on TV - "So, I'm going to cut this slab of pork to look like the late, great comedian Mitch Hedberg. Let me use my razor-sharp claws on my left hand to shape his porkchop hair. You can do this at home...IF YOU HAD F*CKIN' CLAWS IN YOUR HAND, TOO!! BUT YOU DON'T!! Hahahahaha!!!"
Still...I'd feel bad for Wolverine. I'd hate to see him during his awkward, getting-to-learn-his-powers phase that all comic book heros have, fooling around with his first girlfriend. He had 8 girlfriends, none who survived the puncture wounds after getting to "third base."
Except Angelina Jolie. She's into the kinky bleeding stuff.
- me
Dudes in the world of the Flash
and Dudes in the Marvel universe.
...whenever I have a day when I'm not sure if I'm as hip as I think, or that not-so-cool feeling, I take solace in the fact that real human being geeks researched this information from comic books and made a website about it.
And, to really make me find my inner Clooney, I know that there are even bigger geeks out there that will nitpick the hell out of these sites and point out factual errors about fictional characters.
I'll admit to having a fairly short, but intense, X-Men phase in the first couple of years of high school, along with X-Factor, Excalibur and the Wolverine series. But once I discovered the joys of driving, guitars in minor chords and girls, I was done.
Still...it would be f*ckin' cool to have metal claws like Wolverine. I'd have the best cooking show on TV - "So, I'm going to cut this slab of pork to look like the late, great comedian Mitch Hedberg. Let me use my razor-sharp claws on my left hand to shape his porkchop hair. You can do this at home...IF YOU HAD F*CKIN' CLAWS IN YOUR HAND, TOO!! BUT YOU DON'T!! Hahahahaha!!!"
Still...I'd feel bad for Wolverine. I'd hate to see him during his awkward, getting-to-learn-his-powers phase that all comic book heros have, fooling around with his first girlfriend. He had 8 girlfriends, none who survived the puncture wounds after getting to "third base."
Except Angelina Jolie. She's into the kinky bleeding stuff.
- me
Friday, January 20, 2006
Finally, a ginchy reality show
from : E Online!
Lisa Loeb is appearing in a reality dating series. This boggles my mind.
First off, Lisa Loeb is by the cutest female Jewish singer-songwriter from Texas. She's also had TV experience, so she should be comfortable with the camera.
Second, she's responsible for the reintroduction of the word "ginchy" - termed by Mike Gianinni at WHFS in 1996 for her overall alt.cutehipsexy.mod thing working. Mary Tyler Moore on the Dick Van Dyke show was the original ginchy. Lisa is ginchy in that same vein.
Third, she was dating a Zappa. How can you not love a Zappa?
Fourth, she's Lisa Frickin' Loeb! If she can't find a fella, who can? She's, as previously stated, ginchy. Ginchy goes a long way.
Lisa Loeb is appearing in a reality dating series. This boggles my mind.
First off, Lisa Loeb is by the cutest female Jewish singer-songwriter from Texas. She's also had TV experience, so she should be comfortable with the camera.
Second, she's responsible for the reintroduction of the word "ginchy" - termed by Mike Gianinni at WHFS in 1996 for her overall alt.cutehipsexy.mod thing working. Mary Tyler Moore on the Dick Van Dyke show was the original ginchy. Lisa is ginchy in that same vein.
Third, she was dating a Zappa. How can you not love a Zappa?
Fourth, she's Lisa Frickin' Loeb! If she can't find a fella, who can? She's, as previously stated, ginchy. Ginchy goes a long way.
Friday, January 13, 2006
This dude ain't too bright...
from the WaPo.com...
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/01/12/AR2006011201890.html?nav=hcmodule
Man Charged With Murder in Reporter's Killing
Arrest Made After Suspect Walks Into D.C. Police Office
By Clarence Williams and Allan Lengel
Washington Post Staff Writers
Friday, January 13, 2006; Page B01
A 23-year-old maintenance man from Southeast Washington was arrested last night and charged in the robbery and slaying of New York Times journalist David E. Rosenbaum, police said. They also were seeking one other person.
Michael C. Hamlin was arrested shortly after 6 p.m. when he walked into the 7th District police station in the 2400 block of Alabama Avenue SE, which is in the block where he lives, and asked why "my face is on TV," police said.
Only an hour earlier, police had released to the media images from surveillance videotapes taken at a CVS store in Southeast Washington and an auto parts business in Prince George's County. Police said the tapes showed Hamlin using or attempting to use Rosenbaum's credit cards shortly after Rosenbaum was robbed near his home in Northwest Washington on Jan. 6.
Hamlin walked into the police station last night wearing the same dark jacket, with his first name sewed onto a chest patch, that he had been wearing in a surveillance tape, police said.
Police drove Hamlin to the department's violent crimes branch, where he provided detectives with a statement on the slaying, police said. He was charged with felony murder.
"It did wrap up rather quickly," Detective Anthony Paci said during a news conference last night outside the violent crimes branch.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OK, first off - this guy is being charged with the mugging and murder of a 63 year old guy in a posh neighborhood in DC. The victim, David Rosenbaum, had recently retired from the New York Times' Washington bureau, and was just going for a jog when Hamlin (allegedly) attacked him.
Now, that in and of itself is sad. What makes it stupid is that anybody would mug a jogger. Joggers basically carry very little gear beyond an iPod, a set of keys, and maybe a couple of bucks for a water or a juice. That this particular jogger had credit cards on him is pretty surprising, and, frankly, not smart on his part. However, the REALLY stupid part is this:
"Michael C. Hamlin was arrested shortly after 6 p.m. when he walked into the 7th District police station in the 2400 block of Alabama Avenue SE, which is in the block where he lives, and asked why "my face is on TV," police said."
It takes a special kind of stupid to attempt to use a stolen credit card froma high-profile murder victim, and then ask why "my face is on TV."
----30----
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/01/12/AR2006011201890.html?nav=hcmodule
Man Charged With Murder in Reporter's Killing
Arrest Made After Suspect Walks Into D.C. Police Office
By Clarence Williams and Allan Lengel
Washington Post Staff Writers
Friday, January 13, 2006; Page B01
A 23-year-old maintenance man from Southeast Washington was arrested last night and charged in the robbery and slaying of New York Times journalist David E. Rosenbaum, police said. They also were seeking one other person.
Michael C. Hamlin was arrested shortly after 6 p.m. when he walked into the 7th District police station in the 2400 block of Alabama Avenue SE, which is in the block where he lives, and asked why "my face is on TV," police said.
Only an hour earlier, police had released to the media images from surveillance videotapes taken at a CVS store in Southeast Washington and an auto parts business in Prince George's County. Police said the tapes showed Hamlin using or attempting to use Rosenbaum's credit cards shortly after Rosenbaum was robbed near his home in Northwest Washington on Jan. 6.
Hamlin walked into the police station last night wearing the same dark jacket, with his first name sewed onto a chest patch, that he had been wearing in a surveillance tape, police said.
Police drove Hamlin to the department's violent crimes branch, where he provided detectives with a statement on the slaying, police said. He was charged with felony murder.
"It did wrap up rather quickly," Detective Anthony Paci said during a news conference last night outside the violent crimes branch.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OK, first off - this guy is being charged with the mugging and murder of a 63 year old guy in a posh neighborhood in DC. The victim, David Rosenbaum, had recently retired from the New York Times' Washington bureau, and was just going for a jog when Hamlin (allegedly) attacked him.
Now, that in and of itself is sad. What makes it stupid is that anybody would mug a jogger. Joggers basically carry very little gear beyond an iPod, a set of keys, and maybe a couple of bucks for a water or a juice. That this particular jogger had credit cards on him is pretty surprising, and, frankly, not smart on his part. However, the REALLY stupid part is this:
"Michael C. Hamlin was arrested shortly after 6 p.m. when he walked into the 7th District police station in the 2400 block of Alabama Avenue SE, which is in the block where he lives, and asked why "my face is on TV," police said."
It takes a special kind of stupid to attempt to use a stolen credit card froma high-profile murder victim, and then ask why "my face is on TV."
----30----
from the archives...BSSC recap
Subject: Game Recap - 11-13-2004
with apologies to Jim Rome....
"Good afternoon, clones. Welcome to the Jungle. I am
the pimp in the box, Jim Rome. First off today, we
need to talk about the Debacle in Dundalk. I'm
talking, of course, about the Baltimore Sport and
Social Club. Extreme social football. Rhymes with
Orange versus...well, we don't know their name. They
had a name with a certain group of players. The
players they had this past week, well, that's not
their name. The Orange versus the Sandbaggers. The
Rhymers with the 'We Don't Know Each Others.'
First off - great job by the Oranges to actually get
more than three women to a game. About time that a
girl in an orange shirt could take a play off. I knew
they could do it. Of course, I thought that they were
going to have to hire hookers to do it. I thought
they'd resort to hiring common whores.
'Hi, are you a street walker?'
Yeah I am, baby
'What would you do for money?'
Anything for you, baby
'Great. Wear this shirt, and run a post pattern.'
But they had legitimate non-hookers show up.
Girls-next-door types. Great job, Orange.
And about the women who showed up. Christy - made a
great play. Refused to be touched with one hand and go
down.
No phone calls on that statement, either, clones. I
don't want an email saying 'I get touched with one
hand and go down - sincerely, Monica Lewinski.' I
don't need another 'I don't need a one hand touch to
go down, I'll do it my own' signed 'Slutty Chick on
Joe Millionaire.'
Now, for the Sandbaggers - nice job bringing in the
Philadelphia Eagles' scout team for beer league
football. You were as familiar with your
Baltimore-area teammates as Anna Nicole Smith is with
high school - you've heard about it, but you've never
been there before.
I'm not going to say those guys were ringers...but
those guys were ringers. Lords of the Ringers. Great
catch over the middle, Terrell Frodo. Way to intercept
the ball, Samwise Taylor.
Having said that, great game out of the Oranges. And I
do mean that sarcastically. What happened to this
team? Evan Kreitzer, the Franchise, gone. Too busy
selling cellular phones to drug dealers.
Franchise....right. He went over as well as a burger
joint in India. Ken...too busy playing sucker...I
mean, soccer. Great job, Ken - playing a game that
cows can theoretically play. They don't have hands,
you don't use hands. Perfect match.
The Attmans? Went off on a paper-product bender, no
doubt. And Bloomie? Where was Bloomie? Great job,
Bloomie - your friend Tully shows up, basically
tried to tackle every guy on the field, and you're not
there to get his back. Great job, Wingman of the Year.
I'm going into battle with you.
It also did not help the Oranges that their
quarterback picked the wrong day to become Chris
LaTestaverde. 3 picks on the day. First throw, run back
to the house, two to the same Samwise Taylor, the Lord
of the Ringers. Memo to LaTestaverde - where that guy
was, don't throw there. The first pick, you got baited
like you were on Bassmasters. Hook, line, and sinking
feeling in your stomach. Nice throw, LaTestaverde.
Lock-down cornerback Ray Bradley.....right. The only
thing he locked down was a 200 dollar dry-cleaning
bill with his swan dive into Lake Spontaneous, there.
Great job, Caveman. Lived up to his name. Looked like
Captain Caveman when he got up out of the biggest mud
puddle this side of Woodstock. Mud in the ears, nose,
belly button - excellent. What's up, Pig Pen?
Gotta say, though - he got jobbed on the sack that
wasn't. Homeboy's knees were down like a porn star,
the line judge says the QB is down, but the ref, 15
yards away with glasses on, says it's not a sack.
Great going, Magoo. Another fine mess.
That mud - that was the toughest opponent on the
field. Other than Ray looking like he spent a week at
a Phish concert, the mud also claimed the knee of
Lauren. That was serious. It's no Willis MaGahee or
Robert Edwards - kind of shredding, but she did get
smacked down like Nancy Kerrigan. Great job, Jeff Mud
Gilooly.
Will say one thing incredible, though - that guy Dave
- what is he, like, 80? - making amazing catches all
over the field. He made catches that would have been
amazing for a man 1/17th his age. Amazing job, John
Glenn. Most men in his age group gripe about Knute
Rockne and main-line Cialis. Not Dave - he was intent
on becoming the beer league football version of Julio
Franco.
War Propecia and tonic on the rocks. War Scott
Kreitzer not yelling at anybody. War Laura Luca,
possession receiver.
Out.
YEAR END AWARDS -
(for those who attended most games)
Offensive MVP - Chris LaTestaverde (sorry, I love that
line). Last game notwithstanding, if he wasn't our QB,
we wouldn't have done nearly as well.
Defensive MVP - Ray Bra...no, there's no way. I'm not
that cocky. Or delusional. I'd go Sauce, though Bloom
would have been close, too.
Defensive MVP with Girl Bits - Lauren. Her routine
smackdowns of thrown footballs were highlight reel
material.
(for those who attended a few games)
Offensive MVP - Ken. Kid's just got wheels.
Defensive MVP - Bloomie. No doubt. Dude was
pick-central.
Best Overall Player with Boy Bits - Sauce. Played well
both defensively, offensively and never complained.
Great teammate.
Best Overall Player with Girl Bits - Tough call. All
the girls played very well this year, under some
insane situations, too. My gut tells me Shannon with
her touchdown catches and cool belly button ring and
dog take this award. Though a case could easily be
made for Christy, or Laura.
Best Hair Awards - Ray (boy bits), Lexi (girl bits).
(had to give us something, you know...)
with apologies to Jim Rome....
"Good afternoon, clones. Welcome to the Jungle. I am
the pimp in the box, Jim Rome. First off today, we
need to talk about the Debacle in Dundalk. I'm
talking, of course, about the Baltimore Sport and
Social Club. Extreme social football. Rhymes with
Orange versus...well, we don't know their name. They
had a name with a certain group of players. The
players they had this past week, well, that's not
their name. The Orange versus the Sandbaggers. The
Rhymers with the 'We Don't Know Each Others.'
First off - great job by the Oranges to actually get
more than three women to a game. About time that a
girl in an orange shirt could take a play off. I knew
they could do it. Of course, I thought that they were
going to have to hire hookers to do it. I thought
they'd resort to hiring common whores.
'Hi, are you a street walker?'
Yeah I am, baby
'What would you do for money?'
Anything for you, baby
'Great. Wear this shirt, and run a post pattern.'
But they had legitimate non-hookers show up.
Girls-next-door types. Great job, Orange.
And about the women who showed up. Christy - made a
great play. Refused to be touched with one hand and go
down.
No phone calls on that statement, either, clones. I
don't want an email saying 'I get touched with one
hand and go down - sincerely, Monica Lewinski.' I
don't need another 'I don't need a one hand touch to
go down, I'll do it my own' signed 'Slutty Chick on
Joe Millionaire.'
Now, for the Sandbaggers - nice job bringing in the
Philadelphia Eagles' scout team for beer league
football. You were as familiar with your
Baltimore-area teammates as Anna Nicole Smith is with
high school - you've heard about it, but you've never
been there before.
I'm not going to say those guys were ringers...but
those guys were ringers. Lords of the Ringers. Great
catch over the middle, Terrell Frodo. Way to intercept
the ball, Samwise Taylor.
Having said that, great game out of the Oranges. And I
do mean that sarcastically. What happened to this
team? Evan Kreitzer, the Franchise, gone. Too busy
selling cellular phones to drug dealers.
Franchise....right. He went over as well as a burger
joint in India. Ken...too busy playing sucker...I
mean, soccer. Great job, Ken - playing a game that
cows can theoretically play. They don't have hands,
you don't use hands. Perfect match.
The Attmans? Went off on a paper-product bender, no
doubt. And Bloomie? Where was Bloomie? Great job,
Bloomie - your friend Tully shows up, basically
tried to tackle every guy on the field, and you're not
there to get his back. Great job, Wingman of the Year.
I'm going into battle with you.
It also did not help the Oranges that their
quarterback picked the wrong day to become Chris
LaTestaverde. 3 picks on the day. First throw, run back
to the house, two to the same Samwise Taylor, the Lord
of the Ringers. Memo to LaTestaverde - where that guy
was, don't throw there. The first pick, you got baited
like you were on Bassmasters. Hook, line, and sinking
feeling in your stomach. Nice throw, LaTestaverde.
Lock-down cornerback Ray Bradley.....right. The only
thing he locked down was a 200 dollar dry-cleaning
bill with his swan dive into Lake Spontaneous, there.
Great job, Caveman. Lived up to his name. Looked like
Captain Caveman when he got up out of the biggest mud
puddle this side of Woodstock. Mud in the ears, nose,
belly button - excellent. What's up, Pig Pen?
Gotta say, though - he got jobbed on the sack that
wasn't. Homeboy's knees were down like a porn star,
the line judge says the QB is down, but the ref, 15
yards away with glasses on, says it's not a sack.
Great going, Magoo. Another fine mess.
That mud - that was the toughest opponent on the
field. Other than Ray looking like he spent a week at
a Phish concert, the mud also claimed the knee of
Lauren. That was serious. It's no Willis MaGahee or
Robert Edwards - kind of shredding, but she did get
smacked down like Nancy Kerrigan. Great job, Jeff Mud
Gilooly.
Will say one thing incredible, though - that guy Dave
- what is he, like, 80? - making amazing catches all
over the field. He made catches that would have been
amazing for a man 1/17th his age. Amazing job, John
Glenn. Most men in his age group gripe about Knute
Rockne and main-line Cialis. Not Dave - he was intent
on becoming the beer league football version of Julio
Franco.
War Propecia and tonic on the rocks. War Scott
Kreitzer not yelling at anybody. War Laura Luca,
possession receiver.
Out.
YEAR END AWARDS -
(for those who attended most games)
Offensive MVP - Chris LaTestaverde (sorry, I love that
line). Last game notwithstanding, if he wasn't our QB,
we wouldn't have done nearly as well.
Defensive MVP - Ray Bra...no, there's no way. I'm not
that cocky. Or delusional. I'd go Sauce, though Bloom
would have been close, too.
Defensive MVP with Girl Bits - Lauren. Her routine
smackdowns of thrown footballs were highlight reel
material.
(for those who attended a few games)
Offensive MVP - Ken. Kid's just got wheels.
Defensive MVP - Bloomie. No doubt. Dude was
pick-central.
Best Overall Player with Boy Bits - Sauce. Played well
both defensively, offensively and never complained.
Great teammate.
Best Overall Player with Girl Bits - Tough call. All
the girls played very well this year, under some
insane situations, too. My gut tells me Shannon with
her touchdown catches and cool belly button ring and
dog take this award. Though a case could easily be
made for Christy, or Laura.
Best Hair Awards - Ray (boy bits), Lexi (girl bits).
(had to give us something, you know...)
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
All Dogs and Cats Eat Meat...
Doggies as veggies and vegans as kittens,
Messy litter boxes with poop on my mittens,
All sorts of critters with faulty O-rings,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Watch out poor Sparky! They'll take all your meat!
Take care little Fluffy! You'll have nothing to eat!
People with agendas who all look like they're mean!
These are a few of my favorite things.
When the dog shat
When the cat crapped
When their food's a mess
I simply remember my favorite things,
and then I don't feel so stressed
I fed my new kitty with real salmon oil,
I took my new puppy to an old rabbi mohel,
He looked at his weiner; said "I von't cut dis ting!"
These are few of my favorite things!
I made my critters follow my diet
they don't eat meat; I've started a riot
my neighbors really hate my dogs' runny droppings
but they're still a few of my favorite things!
When the dog poops
it's hard to scoop...
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things,
and then I don't feel so bad.
Julie Andrews is gonna come kick my ass...
Messy litter boxes with poop on my mittens,
All sorts of critters with faulty O-rings,
These are a few of my favorite things.
Watch out poor Sparky! They'll take all your meat!
Take care little Fluffy! You'll have nothing to eat!
People with agendas who all look like they're mean!
These are a few of my favorite things.
When the dog shat
When the cat crapped
When their food's a mess
I simply remember my favorite things,
and then I don't feel so stressed
I fed my new kitty with real salmon oil,
I took my new puppy to an old rabbi mohel,
He looked at his weiner; said "I von't cut dis ting!"
These are few of my favorite things!
I made my critters follow my diet
they don't eat meat; I've started a riot
my neighbors really hate my dogs' runny droppings
but they're still a few of my favorite things!
When the dog poops
it's hard to scoop...
When I'm feeling sad
I simply remember my favorite things,
and then I don't feel so bad.
Julie Andrews is gonna come kick my ass...
Monday, January 09, 2006
Good Night and Good Luck - Reviewed by the Five Paragraph Bitter Film Critic
I had no idea Doctor Ross had it in him. In his second directorial effort, he makes an emotionally powerful, socially critical and yet still entertaining film in "Good Night and Good Luck." Based on the battles of Edward R. Murrow and the CBS Television News division's struggles against Senator Joseph McCarthy's hearings on Communism.
The movie does not serve as a historical primer - if anything, the movie assumes the viewer is smart enough to know key facts from the World War II-era and the anti-Communism fervor that swept the U.S. that followed. Murrow was a legendary broadcaster who cemented his legacy as a radio and newsreel reporter in London during the Nazi bombing campaign. He eventually joined the CBS news division in "See it Now" - a sort of news feature show that would precursor the "news as entertainment" shows of today. He could tackle U.S. foreign policy on one week, and then interview Lucille Ball the next. And the film shows this odd duality by hinting at internal struggle within the show's staff, the network, and even Murrow himself. Murrow, played with subtle intensity by David Straihhairn, longs to tackle the substantive issues that McCarthy's investigation affecting the core of the country's legal system, yet has to endure a fluff interview with Liberace. The interplay between the various factions of CBS News - those trying to balance news and entertainment and the revenue stream and even those who weren't sure if McCarthy was entirely wrong - may be the most fascinating depiction of a network ever filmed. William Paley (played by Frank Langella), the legendary head of CBS, had his own debate between trusting Murrow's instincts, pleasing the sponsors and keeping the network profitable. Robert Downey Jr., playing producer Joe Wershba, was concerned that by bringing down McCarthy's witchhunt that CBS might actually be helping the Communists.
Shot in black-and-white, and with a mixture of actors and archival footage, the film seems contemporary and classic at the same time. The lighting shows the newshounds working in darkness to shed light on the committee's actions, and shows the rest of the network in glowing, idealistic light. The cigarette smoke should get an acting credit as you can practically smell the buring tobacco - seemingly every character lights up at least once. However, the smoke, when shot in black and white, adds a level of drama to the morality play on screen.
The whole point of the story is summed up by Murrow's comments during a benefit dinner - television news has the potential to do so much more than it does. He derided the idea of "entertaining news" and wanted to make the medium powerful, not to interview the flavor of the day. His words ring as true in 2006 as they did in 1958.
**********************************************************************************
9 out of 10 Whammies - The only major flaws of the movie was casting MadTV and Family Guy's Alex Borstein and not allowing her to impersonate Lois Griffin or Asian Reporter Tricia Takinawa and a couple of pieces of suspect pacing. Otherwise, it really is as brilliant as people say. Clooney's a damned good director.
**********************************************************************************
The movie does not serve as a historical primer - if anything, the movie assumes the viewer is smart enough to know key facts from the World War II-era and the anti-Communism fervor that swept the U.S. that followed. Murrow was a legendary broadcaster who cemented his legacy as a radio and newsreel reporter in London during the Nazi bombing campaign. He eventually joined the CBS news division in "See it Now" - a sort of news feature show that would precursor the "news as entertainment" shows of today. He could tackle U.S. foreign policy on one week, and then interview Lucille Ball the next. And the film shows this odd duality by hinting at internal struggle within the show's staff, the network, and even Murrow himself. Murrow, played with subtle intensity by David Straihhairn, longs to tackle the substantive issues that McCarthy's investigation affecting the core of the country's legal system, yet has to endure a fluff interview with Liberace. The interplay between the various factions of CBS News - those trying to balance news and entertainment and the revenue stream and even those who weren't sure if McCarthy was entirely wrong - may be the most fascinating depiction of a network ever filmed. William Paley (played by Frank Langella), the legendary head of CBS, had his own debate between trusting Murrow's instincts, pleasing the sponsors and keeping the network profitable. Robert Downey Jr., playing producer Joe Wershba, was concerned that by bringing down McCarthy's witchhunt that CBS might actually be helping the Communists.
Shot in black-and-white, and with a mixture of actors and archival footage, the film seems contemporary and classic at the same time. The lighting shows the newshounds working in darkness to shed light on the committee's actions, and shows the rest of the network in glowing, idealistic light. The cigarette smoke should get an acting credit as you can practically smell the buring tobacco - seemingly every character lights up at least once. However, the smoke, when shot in black and white, adds a level of drama to the morality play on screen.
The whole point of the story is summed up by Murrow's comments during a benefit dinner - television news has the potential to do so much more than it does. He derided the idea of "entertaining news" and wanted to make the medium powerful, not to interview the flavor of the day. His words ring as true in 2006 as they did in 1958.
**********************************************************************************
9 out of 10 Whammies - The only major flaws of the movie was casting MadTV and Family Guy's Alex Borstein and not allowing her to impersonate Lois Griffin or Asian Reporter Tricia Takinawa and a couple of pieces of suspect pacing. Otherwise, it really is as brilliant as people say. Clooney's a damned good director.
**********************************************************************************
Thursday, January 05, 2006
Radio is a sound salvation or something
Yesterday, 1/4/06, media conglomerate Bonneville swapped frequencies and changed formats at several of it's DC-market's stations. Z104, which played Adult-Alternative music along with Washington Nationals' baseball broadcasts, is now Classical WGMS. WGMS' old frequency, 103.5, is now all-news WTOP, which was broadcast on 1500 AM and 107.7 FM. Those two frequencies will become Washington Post Radio in March.
A few years ago, the popular mantra was to not waste a highly profitable FM signal in the DC market with news or sports - those formats could live nicely on lower-sound-quality AM. Even religious, ethnic and classic standards broadcasting was considered a disaster. Some even considered 106.7's talk format a waste of a music frequency. And, now, in one fell swoop, Bonneville has changed the rules by littering FM with news and sports.
I'm actually excited to see how the Washington Post Radio turns out. Long-form news stories - longer than a short news blurb, much like a NPR story - were common before the popularity of talk radio took off in the late '80s and early '90s. The Post, despite its history as a major newspaper, has made incredible progress in getting newspaper content to the web, and further distinguishes their website with tons of web-only content. Various writers were made available to other media for commentary and features, so it only seems fitting that they'd eventually get into radio. It'll be interesting to see what they do with the radio station. Call-in shows with the writers? Have the editors do a roundtable? A Gene Weingarten morning show? Carolyn Hax doing a "Loveline"-style advice show?
However, the comments on local media sites like dcrtv.com have been assailing the death of yet another music outlet in the local market. Z104 wasn't a great radio station - and I'm not just saying that because they turned me down for a job in 1996 - but they were generally pleasant enough. Like the young couple three doors down in your neighborhood - they always smile, never stay up all night being loud, but never make much of an impression for you to remember their names.
Local radio should be just that - local. Bonneville is operated out of Salt Lake City - hardly a hot bed of progressive thought. Probably the reason Z104 never crossed the line of taste like a DC101 does is somewhat due to the slightly older demo they shot for, and a corporate mindset that values modesty. Rearranging frequencies and eliminating formats isn't as much of a big deal when you have a 2,000 mile buffer zone.
The sad state of local radio is EXACTLY what we deserve for allowing Congress, the FCC and big business to take over local radio stations relatively unchecked for the past 15 years. Corporate butchers like Bonneville, Clear Channel and Infinity are responsible for the dearth of decent local programming and personalities.
When I was a baby deejay, the average DC station employed about 40 people, between engineering, sales, support staff, promotions and air talent. Some stations had more; others less, but the general rule was 40. Once the FCC started relaxing a couple of ownership rules, it was all over. Welcome to the world of consolidation. Suddenly, a group of radio stations could combine sales staff, engineering, promotions folks and even air talent. When I worked in Ocean City after college in 1995, I was on the 95.9 morning show, and then changed my voice and walked across the hall to do Froggy 99.9 's middays or overnights. Sadly, this also happened in bigger cities too. Suddenly, a group of stations could hire 100 folks to run 4 or 5 stations.
With fewer jobs available, salaries went down. Long time DC/Baltimore residents might remember Big Don O'Brien, formerly of WPGC and WAVA in their top 40 days, and B104 in Baltimore. In 1984, Big Don was the cohost of the highest rated morning show in Baltimore, a smaller market than DC. He made 250,000 in a year by being funny for four hours a day.
Conversely, when Will Pendarvis was the morning show host at DC101 in 1996, he made 140,000. Now, that's still great money, but Don made more 10 years earlier at a smaller station. Even more ridiculous was the old WHFS Morning Product with Aq, Kath and Rob. They were ranked #3 in DC and #8 in Baltimore. Between the two cities, over 250,000 people listened to them every hour, every morning. WHFS was kicking DC101's ass.
Aq made 70,000, I think. It might have been less, now that I think about it. In either case, that's not what highly-rated, major market morning shows used to make. Now, I'm not going to turn down 70-large for doing an easy job. Still...that's a massive pay disparity. Smaller market guys or folks who didn't do mornings had a similar pay cut. Mix 106.5 in Baltimore paid 32,000 to it's night jocks as recently as the 2000 - for a full-time major market gig at an FM station, that's essentially a slap in the face.
The problem is that there are SO many people who want to be broadcasters now - much more so than 30 years ago. As the businesses started taking over, they eliminated much of the local personalities with syndicated programming or automated systems that don't even need a local voice to operate. As a result, there are too many people and not enough jobs.
And, as the battle over decency in broadcasting flared up, these large corporations rolled over and let the FCC run roughshod over them. After all, they can't bite the hand that feeds it, can it? It boggles my mind that INDIVIDUAL CBS AFFILIATES can be fined over a NETWORK-PROVIDED FEED of a frickin' nanosecond of Janet Jacksons' deflated passenger-side airbag, yet Pat Robertson can call for the assassination of a foreign leader on his TV show and not get a penny in fines. Maybe I'm the one who has bad priorities, but when is a nipple more offensive than murder? Michael Powell and his ilk at the FCC deserve a huge steaming cat-shit sandwich for scaring affiliates from airing Saving Private Ryan - one of the most important movies ever made - because of four-letter words and scenes that might get them fined.
Yet MTV can have a show where people get radical makeovers and plastic surgery just so they can look like some two-bit celebrity. That's offensive!!!
Combine that with the shifting demographics of the market, plus other technologies, and you get the situation radio is in now. Most people in my demo (25 - 45, college educated) have iPods or a pretty big CD collection. We can download songs we like. We can burn DVD's full of media. We don't need the radio for music as much as we need it for traffic and weather information. Some of our cars are prewired for satellite radio. Many of us spend an hour or two a day in the Metro where the radio is mostly useless. We can listen to streaming audio at work or at home if we have a good internet connection. We can go to clubs that play exactly what music we like. Many of us have very specific tastes in music, and we want to hear what we want, when we want. Stations like Z104 and the old WHFS were marketed to a demo that simply doesn't need them.
Stations like WHUR and WPGC have a similar age and income demo, but are able to market themselves much better into the community. They make their broadcasts sound like a hot party you need to be at. And while hip-hop and R&B have made great strides in bridging technology gaps, it's still has a large audience who depends on the radio for listening to music. And, the new 99.1, with its mix of Latin beats, while not as highly rated as anticipated, has become a fixture in the community already. Z104 completely failed to make that kind of impression.
It was predicted that when Stern left Infinity/CBS that the whole radio world would change. Sure enough...don't be surprised to see other changes (94.7, 107.3, this means you). Sure, Sirius is giving Stern a huge contract, but it's still pretty amazing to see how low traditional radio is falling when it's biggest star would leave.
Personally, I've fallen in love with XM. Their selection of alt-rock and indie selections, plus good dance, soul, sports, classical and news/talk/traffic/weather stations is INFINITELY better than anything available on regular broadcast. Sirius is not as good musically, but has better talk stations, plus Howard Stern, but XM also has more stations. Sat Radio's a vastly superior service, no matter which provider you chose, and if I have to skip three Starbuck's coffees a month to pay for it, I will. My birthday gift from myself to myself will be the portable unit, and I will consider it an investment and a a big fat middle finger at the suits, lawyers and politicians who ruined the medium I once loved.
A few years ago, the popular mantra was to not waste a highly profitable FM signal in the DC market with news or sports - those formats could live nicely on lower-sound-quality AM. Even religious, ethnic and classic standards broadcasting was considered a disaster. Some even considered 106.7's talk format a waste of a music frequency. And, now, in one fell swoop, Bonneville has changed the rules by littering FM with news and sports.
I'm actually excited to see how the Washington Post Radio turns out. Long-form news stories - longer than a short news blurb, much like a NPR story - were common before the popularity of talk radio took off in the late '80s and early '90s. The Post, despite its history as a major newspaper, has made incredible progress in getting newspaper content to the web, and further distinguishes their website with tons of web-only content. Various writers were made available to other media for commentary and features, so it only seems fitting that they'd eventually get into radio. It'll be interesting to see what they do with the radio station. Call-in shows with the writers? Have the editors do a roundtable? A Gene Weingarten morning show? Carolyn Hax doing a "Loveline"-style advice show?
However, the comments on local media sites like dcrtv.com have been assailing the death of yet another music outlet in the local market. Z104 wasn't a great radio station - and I'm not just saying that because they turned me down for a job in 1996 - but they were generally pleasant enough. Like the young couple three doors down in your neighborhood - they always smile, never stay up all night being loud, but never make much of an impression for you to remember their names.
Local radio should be just that - local. Bonneville is operated out of Salt Lake City - hardly a hot bed of progressive thought. Probably the reason Z104 never crossed the line of taste like a DC101 does is somewhat due to the slightly older demo they shot for, and a corporate mindset that values modesty. Rearranging frequencies and eliminating formats isn't as much of a big deal when you have a 2,000 mile buffer zone.
The sad state of local radio is EXACTLY what we deserve for allowing Congress, the FCC and big business to take over local radio stations relatively unchecked for the past 15 years. Corporate butchers like Bonneville, Clear Channel and Infinity are responsible for the dearth of decent local programming and personalities.
When I was a baby deejay, the average DC station employed about 40 people, between engineering, sales, support staff, promotions and air talent. Some stations had more; others less, but the general rule was 40. Once the FCC started relaxing a couple of ownership rules, it was all over. Welcome to the world of consolidation. Suddenly, a group of radio stations could combine sales staff, engineering, promotions folks and even air talent. When I worked in Ocean City after college in 1995, I was on the 95.9 morning show, and then changed my voice and walked across the hall to do Froggy 99.9 's middays or overnights. Sadly, this also happened in bigger cities too. Suddenly, a group of stations could hire 100 folks to run 4 or 5 stations.
With fewer jobs available, salaries went down. Long time DC/Baltimore residents might remember Big Don O'Brien, formerly of WPGC and WAVA in their top 40 days, and B104 in Baltimore. In 1984, Big Don was the cohost of the highest rated morning show in Baltimore, a smaller market than DC. He made 250,000 in a year by being funny for four hours a day.
Conversely, when Will Pendarvis was the morning show host at DC101 in 1996, he made 140,000. Now, that's still great money, but Don made more 10 years earlier at a smaller station. Even more ridiculous was the old WHFS Morning Product with Aq, Kath and Rob. They were ranked #3 in DC and #8 in Baltimore. Between the two cities, over 250,000 people listened to them every hour, every morning. WHFS was kicking DC101's ass.
Aq made 70,000, I think. It might have been less, now that I think about it. In either case, that's not what highly-rated, major market morning shows used to make. Now, I'm not going to turn down 70-large for doing an easy job. Still...that's a massive pay disparity. Smaller market guys or folks who didn't do mornings had a similar pay cut. Mix 106.5 in Baltimore paid 32,000 to it's night jocks as recently as the 2000 - for a full-time major market gig at an FM station, that's essentially a slap in the face.
The problem is that there are SO many people who want to be broadcasters now - much more so than 30 years ago. As the businesses started taking over, they eliminated much of the local personalities with syndicated programming or automated systems that don't even need a local voice to operate. As a result, there are too many people and not enough jobs.
And, as the battle over decency in broadcasting flared up, these large corporations rolled over and let the FCC run roughshod over them. After all, they can't bite the hand that feeds it, can it? It boggles my mind that INDIVIDUAL CBS AFFILIATES can be fined over a NETWORK-PROVIDED FEED of a frickin' nanosecond of Janet Jacksons' deflated passenger-side airbag, yet Pat Robertson can call for the assassination of a foreign leader on his TV show and not get a penny in fines. Maybe I'm the one who has bad priorities, but when is a nipple more offensive than murder? Michael Powell and his ilk at the FCC deserve a huge steaming cat-shit sandwich for scaring affiliates from airing Saving Private Ryan - one of the most important movies ever made - because of four-letter words and scenes that might get them fined.
Yet MTV can have a show where people get radical makeovers and plastic surgery just so they can look like some two-bit celebrity. That's offensive!!!
Combine that with the shifting demographics of the market, plus other technologies, and you get the situation radio is in now. Most people in my demo (25 - 45, college educated) have iPods or a pretty big CD collection. We can download songs we like. We can burn DVD's full of media. We don't need the radio for music as much as we need it for traffic and weather information. Some of our cars are prewired for satellite radio. Many of us spend an hour or two a day in the Metro where the radio is mostly useless. We can listen to streaming audio at work or at home if we have a good internet connection. We can go to clubs that play exactly what music we like. Many of us have very specific tastes in music, and we want to hear what we want, when we want. Stations like Z104 and the old WHFS were marketed to a demo that simply doesn't need them.
Stations like WHUR and WPGC have a similar age and income demo, but are able to market themselves much better into the community. They make their broadcasts sound like a hot party you need to be at. And while hip-hop and R&B have made great strides in bridging technology gaps, it's still has a large audience who depends on the radio for listening to music. And, the new 99.1, with its mix of Latin beats, while not as highly rated as anticipated, has become a fixture in the community already. Z104 completely failed to make that kind of impression.
It was predicted that when Stern left Infinity/CBS that the whole radio world would change. Sure enough...don't be surprised to see other changes (94.7, 107.3, this means you). Sure, Sirius is giving Stern a huge contract, but it's still pretty amazing to see how low traditional radio is falling when it's biggest star would leave.
Personally, I've fallen in love with XM. Their selection of alt-rock and indie selections, plus good dance, soul, sports, classical and news/talk/traffic/weather stations is INFINITELY better than anything available on regular broadcast. Sirius is not as good musically, but has better talk stations, plus Howard Stern, but XM also has more stations. Sat Radio's a vastly superior service, no matter which provider you chose, and if I have to skip three Starbuck's coffees a month to pay for it, I will. My birthday gift from myself to myself will be the portable unit, and I will consider it an investment and a a big fat middle finger at the suits, lawyers and politicians who ruined the medium I once loved.
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