Because Christmas is the Time When You’re Suppose to Tell People How You Feel

So I realize I haven’t posted anything in a month and I really wanted to post something before the New Year. Lately I’ve been writing something out and then stopping midway through because I get bored with it. I feel like this maybe analogous for my entire life, but I’d rather not go there. Anyhow all this post is going to be is a collaboration of a bunch of different things that have been running through my head the past few weeks. In the spirit of this post’s title, I’m going to tell all of you about some things people do that piss me off. And if I have enough energy I may even talk about my opinions on the recent music and films I’ve been absorbing. So here goes it.

Misti with an “i”: The other day my friend Travis threw himself a party because he was leaving his job. Now as self centered as this may appear… well actually it is, I have no defense for his actions. Anyways, the fact that Travis is the type of person who throws himself a party* has nothing do with my point. At this party I was able to meet a slew of Travis coworkers whom I did not know. Now I secretly enjoy meeting people and then harshly judging them based on first impressions, it’s sort of a past time of mine. So at this particular party I was introduced to one of Travis attractive co-workers whose name was Misti. After telling me her name she felt it necessary to point out that she spells that with and i as oppose to a y. I’ve always wondered why people feel it’s essential to tell me how their name is spelled. It’s not as if I’m about to make them a name tag or that’s there’s going to be a quiz and/or spelling on how their name is spelled later in the evening. I can think of almost no situation (aside from the aforementioned name tag making) in which how your name is spelled is prevalent information. I’ve concluded that people do this because they feel that the fact that their name is spelled abnormally somehow makes them unique. This stems from parents who think that misspelling their child’s name makes them unique. It’s all just one effed up, incredibly dense circle that just keeps repeating itself. I’m urging everyone now to stop all this nonsense. If you’re with child or thinking of spawning a child sometime in the near future, just spell their name the right way. Seriously it’ll safe everyone a lot of time and frustration, namely me. And if you’re one of those unfortunate human beings who’s parents didn’t care enough (or cared too much) to spell you’re name correctly, just get over it. Stop telling people how you spell your name; it’s really not interesting at all. Another way to combat this would be for everyone to tell everyone else how their name is spelled during introductions. But then meeting people will be an even longer and more awkward ordeal, so let’s just stick with the former theory.

“I have no regrets”: I’ve probably written about this before, but I really don’t care. There are few things in life that annoying me more then someone uttering the phrase “I have no regrets”. Now I’m going the jackass-ary needed to make such a statement and focus on something else here for a second. The amount of ignorance it would actually take to have no regrets is so astounding I don’t even like to contemplate it. If you literally have nothing in your life that you regret you’re either have the mental capacity of a two year-old or you have no emotions at all. The worst part of this statement is people usually preface it by saying something to the effect of ‘The mistakes I’ve made in my life made me who I am today, so I just don’t regret them’. The fact that past experiences have made you the person you currently are should be pretty inherent. And just because these past events have formed you doesn’t mean you still shouldn’t regret them. I could go on and on about how much this phrase annoys the hell out of me, but instead I think all just move on.

Alone – The Home Recordings of Rivers Cuomo: For those of you who are unfamiliar with this CD, Rivers Cuomo is the lead singer of the once awesome band Weezer. This CD is a collection of demos Rivers’ has recorded over the years, over 80% of which were written before the turn of this century, which, for those of you scoring at home, was before Weezer started sucking ass. Since Weezer played far too important a role in my high school days I was naturally intrigued by this album. And this record actually is as advertised: Weezer’s pseudo-return to form. There’s definitely a heavy dose of nostalgia served whenever I listen to it, but that’s kind of a good and a bad thing. Listening to this demo I’m reminded of why I loved Weezer and also how truly far they’ve fallen. It’s kinda of akin to those nights when you sit around with old friends and reminisce about old times, retell high school stories, etc. While that’s all good and fun, at some point it hits you that high school really wasn’t that great and living in the past is completely and utterly depressing. And that’s pretty much the best way to describe this record. It’s a whole lot of fun, but at some point you’re going to feel depressed by the memories that have been dug up. And maybe that sentiment is a bit melodramatic, but what do you want from me, I’ve been listening to a lot of Weezer lately.

Juno: For the past few years me and my peeps all get together and go see a late movie on Christmas evening. This year we all went and saw Juno. I really liked this movie, it was funny, charming and everything I hoped it would be, although it wasn’t without its flaws. In the first ten minutes the movie almost entirely fall apart thanks to the screen writer deciding it was awesome that she was a hipster and that hipsters have their own lingo. Thankfully though the movie gets over this rough patch, namely thanks to a good story and some stellar acting. Jason Bateman steals the movie in my opinion, because his character invokes the most emotional response, at least from me. His acting was subtle and very understated and pretty amazing. Jennifer Gardner actually acts in this movie, which is equally as amazing. The two main kids nail their perspective roles and all the side characters are just about flawless. Outside of the chair motif falling woefully short and the whole ‘tic-tac as a vice’ thing just screamed of trying way too hard, the movie is really good. Probably one of the 3 best I’ve seen this year, but take that with a grain of salt because I’ve probably seen less then 20 movies this year.

Well that’s all I’ve got for you today. Check back in the New Year when I’ll have my top albums and songs of the year list up. (Insert generic Holiday Greeting/Farewell here).

Until We Meet Again
* I can’t decide if this is a step above or below giving people the birthday warning, i.e.: “Hey just wanted to let you know next Tuesday’s my birthday”.

Art May Imitate Life, but Life Imitates TV

So this past Sunday night I went out and saw Darjeeling Limited with my peeps. Now this isn’t going to be a review of the movie. Instead this is going to be a sort of one-way monologue/debate over certain thoughts and/or theories that the film provoked. But before I move on to that, let me just say that I really, really liked this movie. It’s light years better then the “Life Aquatic”, mainly because Wes Anderson* got back to making his writing an extension of J. D. Salinger’s work. This film is funny, moving and almost everything in it works. However there was one nagging detail that I just couldn’t ignore, and that detail will be the subject of the rest of this blog.

In “Darjeeling Limited” (which for some reason I keep wanting to call the Darjeeling Unlimited) Owen Wilson plays the character of Francis Whitman. Early on in the movie we learn that Francis has been in a motorcycle accident. Later on we learn that this accident was actually an attempted suicide. I apologize for this minor spoiler, although it will in almost no way affect your viewing of the film. Because of this accident Francis’s head is heavily bandaged through out the movie and he’s constantly taking maximum strength pain killers for his injuries. Normally this wouldn’t be an issue or anything other then an aspect of the story. But, as you all probably know, Owen Wilson actually tried to kill himself just a few short months ago, after the movie had finished filming. Now because of this, it made watching Owen’s character rather eerie. In a sense, Owen is playing a character whose situation nearly mirrors that of his current personal life. And while the chronological ordering doesn’t match up, this still raises the sh*tty art-house question of “Where does the film end and real life begin?”

Thankfully, I’m not a big enough douche to actually waste time and energy pondering this question, but it does bring up an interesting quandary. A while back my older brother Luke told me that he could no longer watch Tom Cruise movies because instead of seeing the character he’s trying to portray all he saw was the crazy f*ck who jumped up and down on Oprah’s couch and spouts off Christian Scientist theology as if it were proven fact. Playing devil’s advocate I rebutted with the fact that Russel Crowe is an egomaniacal asshole, but this didn’t stop him from watching Crowe’s work. He rightfully countered that Crowe is a much better actor, thus you can separate his personal persona from the characters he plays. I’m inclined to agree with this assessment, but I can still watch Tom Cruise films with ease. Maybe this is because instead of seeing Cruise portraying different characters I see Jerry Maguire portraying different character, but that’s a story for another day. In all seriousness though, I can watch Cruise’s film and completely ignore his public persona. I think he’s an actor who’s sometimes great (Magnolia**, Vanilla Sky) and sometimes mails it in like it’s nobody’s business (The Last Samurai, Mission Impossible II and III). Never the less, what all of this has to do with Owen Wilson and the “Darjeeling Limited” is the question of how do you separate the person from the character they’re portraying?

Acting is and will always be built on illusion. Every actor or actress has to deal with a set of preconceived notions, either about themselves or previous roles they’ve played, when they act. Truly great and/or transcendent acting occurs when an performer can overcome or transcend the preconceived notions that the audience has about them. This is probably why the best actor currently going are people who aren’t cultural icons. A person acting is far more believable the less you know about them personally. Much the same the way it’s far either to bullsh*t a total stranger then it is a friend or family member. Probably the best acting job I’ve ever seen was Ben Kingsely in the “House of Sand and Fog”***. I know almost nothing about Ben Kingsley, aside from the fact that he’s been knighted. So really if you want to be a great actor, at least in my opinion, you need to stay the eff out of the limelight.

All in all, regardless of the person’s personal life, if the acting and storytelling of a film are good enough they can more then overcompensate any potential problems. Now I’m not saying that Owen Wilson did a bad acting job or that the “Darjeeling Limited” wasn’t a really good story. I just couldn’t shake the unintentional parallels between Owen’s life and his character Francis’s. Sometimes these things are just unavoidable. Film, and any form of entertainment, is all about a willful suspension of disbelief. If this illusion is broken, it severely undercuts the effectiveness of said entertainment. This is probably best personified by the wide world of sports. Anytime there’s a war or national crisis going on, broadcasters constantly remind that in light of the ongoing circumstances that sporting event we’re viewing is “just a game”. Ironically, sports are always just a game, regardless of what’s going on in the world around us. But most people, my self included, want sports to be bigger then they actually are. On some level the same is true for all forms of entertainment. We really want to believe that the music, book, film or whatever that we’re currently digesting is bigger then it actually is. That somehow absorbing or participating in something that is larger then life we too become larger then life. Sadly, this is never the case. No matter how great something is, and (to a certain extent) regardless of its cultural impact****, the entertainment we consume is always just that: entertainment. And this is why all entertainment is built on illusion.

Anyhow, I really liked the “Darjeeling Limited”, I just think I would have liked it better had Owen Wilson not portrayed a man who tried to commit suicide when he had just tried to commit suicide himself. I guess like Owen and Francis “I still have some healing to do” as well.

Until We Meet Again
* Speaking of Anderson, is there any screen writer out there who makes better use of the word asshole? Between Darjeeling’s “Look at these assholes”, The Royal Tenenbaums’ “I know you asshole!” and Bottle Rocket’s “How does an asshole like Bob get such a great kitchen?” I submit that there is not.
** Now you could argue that this was due to Paul Thomas Anderson’s directing, but such an argument can never be proven as anything more then speculation. For support of this stance I give you Julianne Moore’s cartoonishly bad performance in the same movie. If PTA could make Cruise a great actor in this film then why is Moore so terrible?
*** For those of you who haven’t seen this film, I can’t say that I recommend viewing it. This film absolutely wrecked me. Far and away the most depressing movie I’ve ever seen. Although some of that probable had to do with the fact that I watched it in the dead of winter in Chicago, which is depressing enough as is.
**** I suppose you could make the argument about how art, in various forms, changes our world. But this very rarely happens. And these changes are almost never all-encompassing. And the further away we get from said change, the less and less effective it actually is. In the end the movement or change only ends up impacting a small number of people. Meanwhile the rest of the world goes on unmoved by this whole occurrence. So really art, in any form, doesn’t change the world, it merely influences subcultures. And yes I realize how contradictory this paragraph is, but I like the argument none the less.

A History of Viggo Mortensen’s Penis

(Full credit for this title goes to my main man Aaron Wallace who came up with the title after seeing Viggo in all his glory in ‘A History of Violence’)

I’m pretty sure all of you know by now that I found employment at my neighborhood Starbucks. As with any restaurant, we have our share of peculiar regulars. There’s one customer in particular who’s really, um, interesting. This guy resembles a much older, fatter version of the Gorton's fisherman. Every time he comes in and orders his coffee he’s leaves a couple of butter toffee hard candy cream savers to whichever barista is assisting him. The first time he did it to me I just assumed he had left them on the counter by accident so I altered him to his misplacement. He turned around and explained that those were for me. I’d like to think that I then thanked him, but odds are I was too awestruck to actually get any words out. Now whenever I’m working and this guy comes in he gives me two pieces of hard candy, so as to avoid any confusion. Because one piece of left behind candy could just be a mistake, but two pieces left behind, well that’s clearly a gift.

So why do I bring up the antics of this mystifying old man? Well in a strange way it reminds me of the movie I saw this last Sunday: “Eastern Promises” and its director David Cronenberg. You see normally people wouldn’t give you a piece of hard candy as a tip. They see such a gesture as a joke or a sort of eff you to the person they bestowed it on. But the Gorton’s fisherman look-a-like sees the world differently from others. Like wise, a normal director wouldn’t cast Viggo Mortensen and then put his penis on display for a good 5 minutes in their films. But David Cronenberg isn’t a normal director.

First off, let me just say that the movie is really good. It’s one of the most intense films I’ve ever seen. Through out the entire films there’s just a tension that’s never fully resolved. Even with the aforementioned Viggo and my future wife Naomi Watts on the screen, I never really felt like I was watching a movie. It felt like I found some sort of portal to look into a world I wasn’t supposed to see. To say the movie is eerily realistic is one hell of an understatement. I fully understand that you’re trying to make an overtly realistic film here, but you still could have left Viggo’s penis out of it. Although I’ll give Cronenberg credit for one thing: the fact that you keep seeing glimpses of Viggo’s ‘endowment’ is like the 4th most disturbing part of said scene.

Now before you all get on your high horses and call me a peni-phobe, just slow down. I realize it’s a natural part of the male body, but still. Nobody’s goes to the movies to see a penis. On the contrary, most people go to the movies not to see a penis*. What’s arguably more disturbing the sight of Viggo’s genital on screen is the fact that Cronenberg is now batting a 1.000 for times he’s shown Viggo’s penis in movies he’s directed with Viggo in it.

I mean honestly, you do something once it doesn’t prove anything. You do it twice, well that right there’s a pattern. Especially when it comes to cinema. Most talented directors only do a film every couple of years, so they have a much smaller sample size to draw from. So much the same M. Night Shyamalan is know for twists in his movies, Cronenberg is starting to be know for Viggo’s penis being shown in his. Maybe the guys got a serious problem and we should all be trying to get him some help. I mean what if he gets signed on to direct Hidalgo II. Would he have to put in a scene in which Viggo’s ‘manhood’ is exposed? Would the viewers be treated to countless scenes of Viggo riding the horse wearing nothing but a smile? Does this obsession carry over into other aspects of his life? Does he constantly mention how great Viggo looks nude in his interviews? Does he go home and say things like “You should have been on set today honey, Viggo’s balls looked great!”?

In the end, I guess it really doesn’t matter, but over reacting to pointless things is kinda what I do best. Although I’d still prefer not see another man’s ‘johnson’ on a 20 foot movie screen. Now if you’ll excuse me I’m going go ice my hand, I think I’ve gotten carpel tunnel from typing penis so many times.

Until We Meet Again
* It’s true on so many levels.
** Stats: # of times penis was used = 13; # of euphemisms for a penis used = 5; # of times I cringed at what I was writing = 3

The Daily Wildcat Was Written in a Sort of Obsolete Vernacular….

So lately I haven’t been writing much because of a lack of inspiration. Currently nothing in my life has sparked enough interest for me to actually take time to write out my thoughts about it. I blame myself really. Over the past few months I’ve become increasingly anti-social. My life consists of doing school work, working a job where I’m apparently the only person there who isn’t overly enthused about selling overpriced coffee and tea products, listening to music and occasionally watching televisions. All in all, it’s a pretty mundane life. So really it’s my own fault that I have no inspiration, my life is incredibly boring. I’m actually pretty ok with how bland my life currently is, it’s actually quite relaxing. But lately I’ve been wanting to write something. So today I’m going to back a week or so and discuss a local news story that I was momentarily interested in.

The Daily Wildcat is the student newspaper for the University of Arizona. They sparked some controversy recently when they published this (seemingly) anti-Semitic comic:

Naturally this comic was not well received, with the exception of the University’s Neo-Nazi club. The paper quickly went into damage control mode and the editor issued an apology the next day. Now the logical question to ask here is: Why the hell was this allowed to be printed?

According to both the editor of The Daily Wildcat and the author of the above comic strip, this comic was allowed to run because it wasn’t racist. Instead, both parties claimed the comic’s intent was to make fun of people who believe in stereotypes. Now I’ve read this comic a dozen times and I’m really not sure how the hell you could interpret this as anything but racist. However, the pro free-speech crowd (read: people who’s life’s are even more boring then I my own) claims that this comic should have been allowed to run because of our free speech laws. Now I’m not one to impede on anyone’s free speech, but I can think of at least two reasons as to why this should have been printed. First off, it’s blatantly racist. Regardless of how you interpret our right to free speech you still have to apply some common sense to it. Obviously this was an extremely derogatory comic that was going to come off as a cheap shot at the Jewish community. Secondly, and maybe more importantly, it’s not even remotely funny.

Generally speaking I’d say that I have a darker sense of humor then most. I tend to enjoy jokes other would find distasteful or over the line, etc. That said, the comic strip in question is just incredibly unfunny. And that is the first reason why it should not have been printed. Now I realize it’s a college newspaper and it’s not like all the comics that run are going to be gems, but this one in particular is not funny, clever or even that creative and on top of all that it’s very offensive. In her apology, the editor had this to say about the offending comic:

“ The Daily Wildcat apologizes for the misunderstanding over the comic and does not, in any way, wish to belittle the Jewish community or depict it negatively. The Wildcat values the Jewish community as a constituent of this newspaper, and as members of this university and the world at large. We apologize to any readers who were offended.”

Now maybe I’m not interpreting this correctly, but that reads more like a ‘oh you don’t get our sense of humor’ more then it reads like an apology. This ‘apology’ comes off like the editors thinks the reader is at fault for finding this comic offensive. Which raises two pressing question: Why would you act so damned smug in a supposed apology and why the hell would you go to bat for this unfunny of a comic?

The other day I was thinking about the whole fiasco, because my current life schedule allows for lots of time to sit and think about useless things. Anyhow, I was thinking about how this whole mess would have gone away if it turns out the writer of this strip had been Jewish. I’ve never understood how it’s allowable to say racist things if you’re a member of that race. For instance, numerous black comedians often talk about how they hate certain sects of the black community (whom they generally refer to as n*****). If I dislike this same sect of people, because of the way they act not because of their race or ethnicity, I’m considered racist. How the hell does that work? If you’re racist against people, even if you belong to that race, aren’t you still a racists? I’m not sure what the answer to that is or how it relates to the topic on hand. I’m just going to stop thinking about it because I don’t think I’d ever come up with a serviceable answer.

In other news, my little brother, who’s in high school, recently participated in his schools’ blood drive. For his contributions he received a pin that said: “It’s my first time!”. I’m not sure the operators of this blood drive fully understand the context of that sentiment. Either way, it certainly gave me a good chortle. And much like the last paragraph this has nothing to do with the topic on hand, I just wanted to end on that note.

Until We Meet Again

I Kissed Reality TV Goodbye

As I set down these notes on paper I’m fully aware that I will anger a good deal of my readers and that I’ll potentially lose friends over this. But a man’s got to stand up for what he believes in. So I’ll just come right out and say it: I hate “The Hills”. Now if you don’t share my opinion and have a tendency to be overly passionate about trivial matters such as your fandom for a reality TV show, I recommend you stop reading now.

Before I get into why I hate “The Hills”, and all reality TV in general, allow me to give you a bit of a background story so you can better understand where I’m coming from with all of this.

I spent the better part of my summer as a camp counselor in the mountains of Colorado. Up in these beautiful mountains I never had cell phone coverage (when I had a phone), internet access, TV or any real access to the outside world. I stayed on this mountain almost all the time, having at most 10 hours off it per week off it. Every time I was off the mountain I felt completely out of place, almost like I was visiting a foreign country as oppose to Colorado Springs. I literally got culture shock every time I went out into the real world. I didn’t even find out that Tony Blair resigned until a month after the fact, when one of my campers told me. So pretty much I spent 2 months in a suspended state of reality in which the real world scarcely existed. And it was a beautiful thing, cause quite frankly the real world* sucks. It was during this time when I was blissfully escaping reality that, unbeknownst to me, my hatred for “The Hills” was born.

Fast forward to the end of the summer. Before I returned to the life-draining heat of Arizona I decided to spend sometime in Denver with my peeps. I spent most of my first day there lying on the ground in front of the television in various states of consciousness. When I was awake or aware enough to look at the television I noticed that MTV was running a marathon of season 2 of “The Hills”. Now normally I would just have ignored it and gone back to trying to sleep, but on this day I had to take notice of what was happening on the screen. As it turned out, this was no regular marathon, It was actually a “Dear The Hills” marathon. In this particular marathon, viewers of the female persuasion had written in letters, as one would to Dear Abby, for the girls of “The Hills” to answer. As I saw this two thoughts rushed through my head: 1.) Wait what qualifications do these girls have to answer these questions besides being on a TV show? And 2.) Who are these poor girls that are actually taking the time to write these letters and what do they think they can possibly gain from the response? (So technically that was three thoughts, but whatever.)

And that’s when I realized that these girls weren’t just ‘reality TV stars’, but they were actually idols for numerous young girls. If that thought isn’t incredibly depressing to you I question whether or not you have a human heart.

Now some of you maybe saying that it’s better for young girls to look up to the ‘ladies’ of “The Hills” than the Paris Hiltons’ and Britney Spears’ of the world. While this is true it’s kinda like saying that Stalin cared more about human rights then Hitler. The lesser of two evils is never a good side to be on friends.

My distain for this show doesn’t just come from some adolescent girls’ foolishly misplaced hero worship. No, I have much deeper reasons for my loathing of “The Hills”.

There’s the obvious reasons for my hatred that applies to “The Hills” and every reality TV show. It’s a character attribute that describes every contestant, ‘star’, protagonist or whatever the hell you want to call the people who appear on these shows. And that attribute is: Attention Whore. Every person who’s ever appeared on a reality TV show is just that. And lord knows the girls of “The Hills” are no exception to this rule. They’re actually worse then the your average, run-of-the-mill reality star, because they’re all extremely wealthy. So unlike the other selfish, foolhardy reality TV ‘stars’, these girls don’t need the money. And none of them need the recognition they receive from this show, outside of all of them being attention whores that is. You could make the argument the Lauren is doing it to further her clothing design ‘career’, but it’s a flawed one. As the plethora of stories in the news about how people’s myspace and facebook pages cost them jobs have shown us, companies don’t want to know about your social life. And they certainly don’t want your social life to be public. Any company that would be dumb enough to hire her would be welcoming a horde of media attention that would have nothing to with her actual clothing line. The fact that her love life would get more attention the clothes is not a good thing. I mean there actually is such a thing as bad press, just ask Michael Vick**.

The only way “The Hills” will help Lauren’s fashion career is if she finances the line herself, and goodness knows her family has the money to do that. If that’s the case then this horrific show will turn out to be a good career move for her. All it’s costing her is her dignity.

Another reason to hate “The Hills” and all reality TV is that it’s nothing but pure exploitation. Regardless of people’s motives for wanting to be on these shows, well actually the only two motives someone has for wanting to be on a reality TV show are narcissism and attention whore(ism). Ok so those two are pretty much the exact same, but you get the idea. Anyway, regardless of what the people on these shows think they’re getting out of the show what’s really happening is they’re being exploited for the viewer. Behind every reality TV show is some sleazy, soulless producer who willing exploits these dimwitted individuals for their own personal gain. That is what’s at the heart of all of these shows, and that, to some varying degree, is what you’re supporting when you watch these shows.

So how is this any different from non-reality TV you ask? Well for starters a sitcom or any other non-reality TV show is fictionalized. And while there’s probably a good amount of reality shows that are scripted, they’re all pretending not to be. Which is as disturbing as it sketchy. Now most people will rebut this by saying that all TV is just escapism so it doesn’t matter. While this is true, there’s still a very distinct difference between sitcoms and reality TV. If your choice for escapism is a sitcom, then you enjoy storytelling. If your choice for escapism is reality TV, then you enjoy voyeurism.

Voyeurism truly is what’s at the heart of reality TV viewing. That or you just want to feel morally superior to some jackass who’s whoring themselves out for their 15 minutes. I feel like it goes with out saying that neither of these reasons for viewing are healthy. I’m gonna wrap this up now before I go on a ten page rant about the depravity of modern day society. Just know that when you watch “The Hills” you’re not only supporting exploitation, but your also supporting a culture in which whores (attention or otherwise) like LC, Hedi, etc., are idols to countless numbers of little girls.

So the next time you watch a reality TV show remember: Not only are you supporting pure, unadulterated exploitation but you’re also supporting all those people in your life who strived to be the center of attention. The people who would kiss the teachers a$$ just to get noticed, the people who would laugh louder then everyone else at a movie theatre so people looked at them, the people who sought out the lime light and would willing throw anyone they know under a bus just for their 15 minutes of fame. You’re not just watching a TV show, you’re honestly not.

In closing, I’d appreciate it if nobody brings this post up a few months from now when I’m doing a season review of “The Hills”. Just kidding, I think…

Until We Meet Again
* I think I’m going to start referring to it as ‘the modern world’ because A.) I’m a huge Wolf Parade fan and B.) I feel like every time I say ‘the real world’ people think of that sh!tty reality show.
** I’m not trying to be shocking or inappropriate, this was just the most recent example I could think of.

Top 5 Reasons to Hate Bob Melvin and Stephen Drew

Last night I planned on finally writing about why I hate “The Hills” and reality TV, but after the Diamondbacks collapse I just couldn’t focus. I was put fully on tilt by their latest meltdown and could think of nothing else. So instead of writing about TV, I will now roll out my Top 5 Reason to Hate Bob Melvin and Stephen Drew. For those of you who don’t know, Bob Melvin is the Dbacks manager and Stephen Drew is their starting shortstop. For those of you who don’t care, I apologize. Just know this bitter, hate-filled rant is my way of venting. Enjoy.

5.) Bob Melvin’s Name:

I mean what the hell kinda of name is Bob Melvin anyway? His name sounds like a name you’d find on some high schooler’s fake id. It just sounds like a made up name. Actually his name sounds like he’s the evil manager of the burger joint in some Disney Channel movie. He’s always making life miserable for all the employees and is constantly giving our young protagonist, who of course is played by Zac Efron, a particularly hard time. And when you’re as beautiful as Zac Efron you shouldn’t take that kinda crap from anyone. Especially when you can sing… like a bird*.

4.) Stephen Drew’s Name:

Stephen Drew, what a terrible name. While we’re on the subject of Disney Made-for-TV movies, Stephen Drew sounds like the name for the preppy villain who’s also the starting quarterback on the high school football team. He’s also dating the head cheerleader who doesn’t realize she’s more then just a pretty face. Naturally he treats her very poorly, cause all football players treat their girlfriends poorly. Hopefully some young, beautiful but somehow nerdy boy will tell her how truly special she is and help her break free from the oppressive life-style that Drew and popularity force on her.

Ok, enough of that. Back to why I hate Stephen Drew’s name. Well, he has two first names, that’s why. 93% of people with two first names are a—holes, that’s just proven fact. And both his first and last name both are staple first names’ in the Frat Guy Community. The only way his name could be more Fratastic was if it was Clay Brad or Chad Troy.

3.) The handling of Line-Ups and Pitching Staff:

As if last nights completely mind-boggling use of Tony Pena wasn’t enough to prove this point, Melvin has been terrible at handling his pitching staff all year. He constantly leaves his starters in too long, routinely over-uses his middle relievers ‘til they either hit a wall or run out of confidence. He also continues to juggle the batting order so much that not a single hitter knows their role. And he continues to bench Conor Jackson, who not only has Hollywood style good looks, but is also our most effective offense player, statistically speaking. Needless to say if this team misses the playoffs the finger should be pointed directly at Melvin, who keeps finding new and ambitious ways to f*ck up this teams talent.

2.) The Curse of the Drew Family:

The Drew family is notorious for being immensely talented under-achievers. It looks like Stephen is no exception to this. It also doesn’t help him or J.D. that they both are completely devoid of emotions. In fact, I think they might be robots. Although that raises the much more difficult question of why are these robots so ineffective? Perhaps the world of Super Baseball 2020 is a lot farther off then we once thought.

1.) My Provocative:

As it turns out that I’m that guy. The guy who has to hate someone or something about the team he roots for. I feel like this phenomenon is especially true for me when it comes to baseball, probably cause I know so very little about it. That and I feed of negative energy, so yeah.

Until We Meet Again
* So I meant for that to be a Superbad reference, instead it came out like the rambling of a drunken 5 year old. My bad, my bad.

The Hot List, v. 8.0

It that time once again, time to break out the Hot List. Below is a list of things I’m Hot and Not Hot on. Enjoy.

Things I’m hot on:

Josh Ritter – The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter:

With a title like this how could you go wrong? I mean seriously, this is one of the best and funniest album titles I’ve ever heard of. And the album almost lives up to its satirically ambitious billing. I’ve always loved Mr. Ritter’s work, but this is far and away his best album. From the album’s Dylan-esque opener “To the Dogs or Whoever” it almost never misses a beat. Whether he’s writing a love song to Joan of Arc or about biblical metaphors or love blossoming in a pre-apocalyptic bomb shelter, Ritter is at his musical and lyrical best here*. I could write a whole lot more about this album but then I’d probably end up over-hyping it for everyone who’s going to listen to it, so I’ll just close by saying that you should probably go buy or download this record and listen to it immediately.

Superbad:

First off, this movie isn’t for everyone. And by not for everyone I mean that if your high school days didn’t revolve around trying to get beer and delusions of sexual grandeur then this film probably isn’t for you. Well, my high school days didn’t really revolve around that, but the weekends did at times. So… Well, this is just a funny movie that I feel like just about every guy in America can relate to. Girls though I’m not sure about. Having never been one and shown time and again that I have no earthly idea how they think. So yeah.

RJD2- Work It Out (Video):

So I really don’t know what to say here other then check this video out. It’s one of the most original music videos I’ve ever seen as well as one of the coolest. I’m not going say anything else, just go watch this video. Here’s the link: http://youtube.com/watch?v=rxjrBd4WE2U

Josh Rouse’s Podcast:

So one of my favorite musicians, Josh Rouse, recently started a podcast. As if that wasn’t reason enough for me to listen to it, he named it “Bedroom Classics Radio Hour”. Now maybe it’s just me, but ‘Bedroom Classics’ sounds more like the title of a late-night Cinemax show then a indie internet radio program. But whatever. The show is actually really, really ridiculously good. Rouse’s musical tastes may actually be better then the music he makes, which is saying something. So if you like good music and/or downloading podcasts, I’d recommend trying this one out.

Things I’m not hot on ( a.k.a. The Not Hot List):

Being Broke:

Right now instead of having actual money and/or income, I have negative money. Now I realize that’s called being in debt, but I feel like negative money has a stronger impact then just saying you’re in debt. So I currently have negative money. Now the obvious solution to all of this is to get a job, but I’ve never been one to follow the crowd. My newest plan to make money is to ask for your support. I’m not asking for much, just 50 cents a day. That’s less then the cost of a double stack at Wendy’s. It’ll be just like supporting those starving, homeless children around the world. And while I’m neither homeless or starving, I am incredibly lazy. So think about supporting me. I’ll send you a picture of me to put on your fridge and write you a monthly letter updating you on my life. The letters will be hand written, but not by me. That’s far to time consuming. So think about.

p.s. I’m joking about all this, honest to God. Well I actually am broke, but the whole 50 cents a day thing is just my perverse idea of a joke.

The Hills:

Ok, so this one is really just a teaser. I plan on writing a substantial amount (read: 1 to 1 ½ pages) on why I loathe this show, so be ready for that in the near future.

Things I’m hot on, but really wish I wasn’t (a.k.a Guilty Pleasures):

Rooney – When Did Your Heart Go Missing:

First off, this is an incredibly catchy song. Secondly, this song has some of the worst lyrics I’ve ever heard. How bad you ask, well I could sing along via guessing the lyrics the first time I ever heard it. At one point in the second verse the lead singer rhymes said, bed and head to come up with this Shakespearian-esque bit of magic:

I meant every word I said
I never was lyin' when we talked in bed
I'm retracin' every step in my head

So yeah, the lyrics are beyond terrible. But the song is still insanely catchy. Combine those two dichotomous elements and this song is safely nestled into the ‘guilty pleasures’ category. Also, if you have a good amount of time on your hands its worth going to Youtube and finding the video of this song. Watching these gotards drive around some costal area, I presume its California, is worth a couple of laughs. While watching their video I came to two conclusions, 1.) These guys were never, at any time in their lives, cool and 2.) They might actually mean the incredibly sh*tty lyrics they sing.

Sean Kingston – Beautiful Girls:

So I really like this song, but a couple things about it give me pause. A of all Mr. Kingston looks like a reject from Soul Plane and B of all his voice sounds like a retarded Louis Armstrong. But aside from that the song is great…

Until We Meet Again
* Ok I realize that I’m just an insignificant blogger, but I feel like this sentence should be a blurb on his album cover. Or at the very least his website.

How I Spent My Summer Vacation

People, get excited. I’ve returned from my hiatus to recharge your life with overwritten and under-edited puff pieces about my personal opinions. Woot. Today’s post will be a brief summary of highlights from my summer. But don’t fret dear readers; this isn’t going to be a series of inside jokes from my experience as a camp counselor. I’m well aware of the fact the all camp stories are incredibly contextualized. By the time you finish explaining the circumstances the joke is either no longer funny or wasn’t funny in the first place, it’s just that you were at summer camp so you were physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually exhausted so your sense of humor was completely shot.

Anyhow, here’s a few tidbits from my summer that I thought you might be interested in. Or more appropriately, here’s a few anecdotes from my summer that I felt like writing about.

Red Rocks:

So about 12 days before I returned to Tucson, I attended a music festival at Red Rock in Morrison, Colorado. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this particular venue know that you’re missing out. It’s far and away the coolest venue I’ve ever been to. Red Rocks is pretty much an outdoor concert hall that’s surrounded by 60 foot rocks on every side. Any description I could come up with couldn’t possibly do it justice, so just check out the website at: http://www.redrocksonline.com/

Anyways, highlights from this festival include, but are not limited to:

Lucinda Williams

- Even though she’s in her mid 50’s, I’m not ashamed to say that I’m heavily crushing on Ms. Williams. Even if she is a stoned-out-of-her-mind-hippie and her set lasted at least 6 songs too long, she’s still one hell of a performer. Her newest CD “West” is proof of that. She even covered the Flaming Lips, which is pretty damned awesome in my book. So yeah, she’s good.

Devotchka

- Also know as the band that did the majority of the music for the “Little Miss Sunshine” soundtrack, Devotchka put on one of the most interesting and entertaining live shows I’ve ever seen. Even while half their songs were song in another language (or the lead singer was mumbling so incoherently that it sounded like a foreign language), I still felt like dancing and singing along to almost every song. Also, the band’s lone female kept playing instruments that were bigger then her and she wasn’t exactly a petit gal. Needless to say, this made me very happy. I’m a sucker for this sort of visual comedy.

Ryan Adams

- Ok, I have a confession to make. My main reason for writing this blog was so I could gush about seeing Ryan Adams live. I know I’m a tool and an overly-obsessed fan boy, but bare with me, I promise there’s some good stories among my not so subtle man-crush driven ramblings. Ok, this one’s going need a couple of bullet points.

- First off, I was a little nervous about seeing Mr. Adams live. For starters, he’s notorious for being a dick at his live shows. He once famously threw out a fan for requesting Bryan Adams’ “Summer of ‘69”. That and I’m not the most optimistic of human beings, some might say I’m extremely cynical. I prefer pragmatic. Anyhow, I love Ryan Adams music, so I was worried that he’d put on a sh*tty live show and thus damper my appreciation for his music. Luckily though, Ryan* came through for me. He played for over two hours and put on an incredible show. I’d go see him again in a heartbeat, he’s that good. He had some extremely humorous banter with the crowd and was just amazing musically. He and spanned the majority of his catalogue during his set, which is always a plus in my book. Towards the end of the show Ryan started barking into the microphone as oppose to talking to the audience in between songs. Now on paper this sounds like either a a-hole move or a drunken a-hole move, however it was actually quite funny and just added to my enjoyment of the show.

- As if the show wasn’t already amazing, one of the funniest/coolest things I’ve ever witnessed at a show occurred a mere 2 feet away from me. So in between songs my good friend Sam yells out** “Come Pick Me Up”, to which Ryan Adams replies:

“No I will not play that song. Because if I play that song you’ll all go home. And you won’t take me with you. And if you did take me with you you wouldn’t like me. I just can’t have that happening, not tonight. So I won’t be playing that song.”

So not only did Ryan Adams humorously respond to by friend’s request, I also learned that my close friend is a massive tool.

The Ultimate Frisbee Corollary:

So I was working at a summer camp in Colorado. For some reason almost everyone at this camp was in love with the ‘game’ of Ultimate Frisbee. If you’re unfamiliar with this game, I’d recommend taking a few moments to thank God that you’ve gone through your life while avoiding people who preach the virtues of this incredibly lame excuse for a sport as if it were the gospel. Seriously though, wikipedia Ultimate Frisbee if you don’t know what it is. That way you can fully understand this corollary. Anyhow, I’m now going to explain this corollary. So the following paragraph assumes you know what Ultimate Frisbee is. Read at your own risk.

So I decided this summer that Ultimate Frisbee is just like football, only if you removed all the enjoyable parts from football. Seriously though, if you took all the hitting, dodging and 90% of the running out of football and replaced the ball with some fruity disk you’d have Ultimate Frisbee. In short, Ultimate Frisbee is football if you removed all the good parts from football. And thus the Ultimate Frisbee Corollary is this:

If A and B are similar, but A has all the good qualities, then B is the Ultimate Frisbee version of A.

Some examples of this would be:
Panic! At the Disco is the Ultimate Frisbee version of Queen
WNBA is the Ultimate Frisbee version of the NBA
The Star Wars prequels are the Ultimate Frisbee version of the original Star Wars Trilogy
Michael Vick*** is the… Ok I can’t even think of a joke or comparison here. Hopefully you all get the idea, let’s just move on.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows:

Now I’m not going to go and ruin the ending for all of you, although I doubt there’s anyone left in America who doesn’t know how this book ends. But that’s neither here nor there. I will say though, that this is far and away the best book in the series. J.K Rowling truly saved her best for last, even if she should have ended two chapters sooner**** and ditched the unbelievably smarmy epilogue. I really don’t have anything else to add here, I just wanted to end by writing about Harry Potter to remind all of you how very, very uncool I am. Check back sometime next week when I may have written something of semi-substance. God Speed.


Until We Meet Again
*Like the rest of the nation is with Dave, Jack and John, Ryan and I are on a first name basis.
** Yeah, he’s that guy who yells out the song he wants to hear at shows. And no, I don’t like that guy either. But in Sam’s case I’ll make an exception, although it still was a douche move.
*** Speaking of Mr. Vick, does it hurt or hinder your credibility when Stephon Marbury comes to your defense?
**** For those of you who actually read the book, I think she should have ended it at “King’s Cross”. If you want to know my reasoning behind this feel free to ask me. I’ll happily talk far too long about with you. Honest, I will.

Every New Beginning Comes From Some Other Beginnings End

So as just about all of you already know, my blog will be shutting down for the next 6-8 weeks. I had planned some huge, grand finale type of post, but various things (weddings, pre-wedding parties, friends on military leave, ect.) kept getting in the way. The reason for my blog’s leave of absence is because I’ll be going up into the mountains of Colorado to be a summer camp counselor for the next few months. I’ll have about 8 hours a week when I won’t be on a mountain, so blogging is going to be somewhat impossible. I want to thank all of you for reading and remember I shall return in about two months. Hopefully this last post gave you all a chance for some closure and got that horrible Semisonic song stuck in your head.

Until We Meet Again
* I don’t have a footnote for this blog, but I feel like there’s something that I need to tell all of you. As I’m writing this the promo for SportsCenter is running in the background. Apparently tonight they’ll be a piece on whose baby will be a bigger sports star. This means some poor bastards employed by ESPN will have to debate this topic in regards to the children Tiger Woods, LeBron James and Jeff Gordon just had. This kinda makes you long for the days when SportsCenter was watchable. Also, if I had to join in this debate I would never be able to show my face in public again.

Top 5 Reasons to Hate America

Don’t let the title of this post fool you, I am not anti-American. I fully believe that this is one of the best, or at the very least most comfortable, places to live. There’s a lot reasons to love this country. But on the flip side, there’s also a lot of reasons the rest of the world thinks we’re a--holes. If you ever stop and think about reasons the rest of the world might hate us, you realize that we are indeed a--holes. Loveable a--holes, but a--holes none the less. With that in mind, I’ve made a list of my Top 5 Reasons to Hate America. But don’t worry dear reader(s). My blog isn’t about to morph into some sort of political blog. I’m not about to start writing about the grave injustice that is the Iraq war, or about all the protests I go to, or how inept our Congress and President are. Nor will I start linking NPR and Greenpeace. I’m not that boring. In all likelihood this is just a one time deal, so enjoy it. Now on the list.

5. Dane Cook/Larry the Cable Guy (tie): Let’s get this out of the way, neither of these men are remotely funny. The two main things comedians need to be funny are material and delivery. Both these men are failing miserably in those regards. Dane Cook’s jokes are almost never funny and his delivery resembles that of a 10 year old boy who just realized he can make his friends laugh by screaming everything he says while wildly gesticulating. And while this may have been funny in 4th grade, it’s lost a good deal of its luster over the years.

Then there’s Larry the Cable Guy. Larry just has stupid catch phrases and racists remarks to make about rednecks. How incredibly original! His delivery isn’t funny at all, it just sounds like someone doing a bad or over-exaggerated southern accent. If I really wanted to hear that I’d watch Varsity Blues. In spite of all this, these men are some how the two most popular comedians in America. Our country continually sells out all their shows, goes and watches their horribly contrived movies and flaunts these men as comedic geniuses. If I lived in another country I’d hate us just for the ignorance of supporting these two massive, massive tools

4. Paris Hilton: Really no more needs to be said about this woman thing…

3. Independence Day: No, not the actual 4th of July, but the blockbuster movie starring Will Smith and Bill Pullman. Now don’t get me wrong, I absolutely love this movie. But I can see how it might rub non-Americans the wrong way. For instance, right before the climatic fight scene, the American protagonists send out their plans to defeat the aliens to the rest of the world via Morse Code. When the British army receives this message two officers have the following exchange in crummy English accents:

Officer #1: We’re getting a message from someone using old Morse Code. (Pauses to decipher the message) It’s from the Americans! They’ve got a plan!

Officer #2: Well it’s about bloody time!

Now keep this in mind as that dialogue sinks in, this movie was written by Americans. If you’re some dopey European watching this movie, you probably view this exchange and think:

“This is how Americans view themselves. When the world is in peril, everyone just sits around holding their dicks waiting for the Americans to come up with an idea and bail everyone out.”

Now it may not have been the writers intention for it to comes off this way, but intent generally means sh*t in the grand scheme of things. This is how the rest of the world thinks we view ourselves. We’re the heroes who are better then everyone else. We’ll drop everything and bail you out, because we’re that f*cking awesome. Granted we did this in both World Wars, but that was over 70 years ago, isn’t it about time we stop living off that memory? All we’ve done since then is make more sh*t for everyone else by trying to play Justice League all across the globe.

We’re now like the sorority girl(s) who use to never have to wait in line at the clubs, never had to buy a drink when she went out, was an a—hole to every guy and a bitch to every girl, yet she was basically untouchable for her entire youth because of her looks. Now fast forward 10 years. The years haven’t been to kind to this gal. Her a$$ has gotten bigger, chest has gotten smaller and her face looks more weathered then most casual drug users. However, this girl is still trying to act like she’s the hottest girl in the world. She’s a sad, shallow simpleton who’s still trying to live off her glory years. She can no longer get into the hottest clubs and alienates everyone in the bars she does get into by singing a little too passionately to Margaretville when it comes on*. This is just what America is like now, times two or three. I mean isn’t it time we all got over World War II**?

2. Super Sweet 16: You could substitute most MTV shows here, but this one happens to be the most deplorable of the bunch. Actually I take that back, I can tolerate/slightly enjoy most MTV shows, but Super Sweet 16 seems to be the Devil incarnated in serialized form. For my sanity’s sake I’m going to assume most of you know what goes on in this show and not explain it. All I know though is if I lived in some 3rd World country and for some reason had access to cable and this show, it would take about a nano-second of watching it before I’d swear a Jihad on the all of the United States. Hell, I live a comfortable middle-class suburbian life and all I can think about doing sometimes is hunting down and brutally murdering the little b*tches that are on this show. Ok, so that might be a bit of an over-exaggeration, but this show angers me a great deal. And as David Cross once eloquently said: “If this is what are freedom brings, then I hate our freedom too***.”

1. KFC Famous Bowls: Ok, everyone knows America has an obesity issue, but the KFC Famous Bowls are just ridiculous. I mean I’m not one to play the “there’s children starving throughout the world” card, but how on earth can anyone ever justify eating one of these things? Outside of a dare or a lost bet I really can’t think of any other reason. First off, the ingredients to this thing (mashed potatoes, corn and chicken, covered by gravy and cheese) should never be mixed together. Honesty, who came up with this idea? This is the type of thing you make when you wake up bleary eyed on the day after Thanksgiving. You search through your fridge, determined to finish off the rest of the left-overs, after you pull everything out, you figure “what the hell, I’ll mix all of this together”. But after you eat it you immediately feel ashamed and swear that you’ll never tell anyone. If you friends ever found out what you did you’d never live it down. They’d constantly berate and remind you of how fat you are. Every time someone new was introduced to your group they’d eventually bring up the time you made the fattest meal ever. And that’s just what these bowls are. The fattest meal ever.

Until We Meet Again
* For all of you who think I just expanded on that scene from “Knocked Up”, allow me to explain myself: I’ve been using some version of this analogy since I was a sophomore in High School. I’ve just updated it. “Knocked Up” is one of the funniest movies I’ve ever seen though.
** I mean this only for Americans. If you’re German or Jewish, well you know…
*** Ironically, or unironically if you actually think about it, Cross said this in reference to Paris Hilton.

Almost Famous

I’ve always wanted to be famous; I think everyone has. I always feel uncomfortable around people who insist they wouldn’t want to be famous. If you say you don’t want to be famous that means one of two things: Either you’re completely full of sh*t, or you’re not a self-centered a**hole like the rest of us. Either way, I don’t want you around, you make me uneasy.

My reasons for wanting fame have fluctuated throughout my life. There’s always been the generic reasons like women, money, iconic status, women, supreme-awesomeness, etc. But lately something has come completely out of left field to make me yearn for stardom. And that something is “Itunes Celebrity Playlist.”

If you’re unfamiliar with these lists, allow me to explain them. What these lists are is a ‘playlist’ of songs put together by some celebrity, pseudo-celebrity, or artist. What purpose these lists serve is unknown, but they bring me joy on so many levels. It’s always fun to learn that some actor or athlete you like has good taste in music. And it’s equally fun/disheartening to learn that some truly horrific bands, like Hoobastank, have almost identical musical tastes to yourself*. Now I really want to be a celebrity just so Apple will ask me to make a playlist and everyone will see how awesome my musical taste is.

So the other day as I was jealously browsing celebrity playlists, something dawned upon me. I said to myself:

“Hey Calvin, you’ve got a blog. And upwards of 15 people read that blog. And you’re a celebrity/hero/savior to all your readers, so why don’t you just post your playlist on your blog?”

It was at that point that I realized – and this was for the third time today, folks – that I’m damn near a genius. So, without further ado, here’s the first of what I suspect will be many:

Calvin’s Itunes Celebrity Playlist

Music has always been a huge part of my life. I’ve always been inspired by music. It drives me to be a better person and a better (insert celebrity career). Here’s a short list of what I’ve been listening to the past month or so.

Phoenix – “Rally”: Just a great upbeat song by a great band. I think it’s impossible to not want to dance when you hear this song, or tap your hand on the steering wheel if you hear it while driving. Or to give at least some indication that you’re enjoying the song.

Travis – “Selfish Jean”: Travis was one of my favorite bands growing up. They’re almost solely responsible for my love of Brit Rock. This is sort of an experimental track for Travis, as the drums on this song are actually audible to the human ear.

The Thermals – “Pillar of Salt”: With all due respect to The Killers and Interpol, this might be the best synth rock song ever.

Bright Eyes – “Four Winds”: Despite Conor Oberst’s pretension, melodramatic lyrics, and his over-the-top bravado, I still enjoy Bright Eyes. That’s because, in my opinion, they’re about as good as it gets musically. This song is no exception.

Bill Callahan – “Sycamore”: I’m really not sure why Mr. Callahan decided to drop his Smog alias, but this song is gorgeous nonetheless. Also, I really didn’t mean to rhyme in that last sentence.

Beirut – “Elephant Gun”: After a stellar debut, Beirut got themselves a full band. Their sound is a lot fuller now, and Zach Condon still has one of the top voices in music.

The National – “Start A War”: The National are generally too clever for their own good. Their lyrics are oftentimes a little too witty and subtle that they’re too easily dismissed**. This is not the case though for this song (or for most of their newest album). This song is just a beautiful, simply-stated love song.

Cloud Cult – “Chemicals Collide”: Outside of the fact that Cloud Cult sounds like something out of a Final Fantasy game, there’s nothing to dislike about this band or this song.

Coconut Records – “West Coast”: My near-homeless friend John Asdell recommended this song to me and I can’t thank him enough for that. Now, you’d assume John’s time would be better served in search of some sort of monetary income instead of recommending music to friends. Still, that’s neither here nor there.

Aqueduct – “Broken Records”: Aqueduct kinda sounds like a combination of Built to Spill and Mates of State. Except there’s no Doug Marsh, and unlike Mates of State, they’re actually good.

Dntel (Feat. Jenny Lewis) – “Roll On”: If I were blind and could only distinguish (read: judge) people based on their voice, I have no doubt that I would think Jenny Lewis was the most beautiful woman in the world. On voice alone, she’s the most desirable women in the US. The rest of the package is, um, not quite as good as her voice. Oh yeah, this song is OK too.

Snow Patrol – “Signal Fire”: No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop loving Snow Patrol. Even on songs like this, when they’re clearly mailing it in***. Still, I’m always a sucker for grandiose music accompanied by a near silent piano-driven bridge. Damn you, Gary Lightbody.

Until We Meet Again
* I actually don’t remember if Hoobastank even has a celebrity playlist. And if they did I certainly don’t remember what kind of music they listened to. I just like typing Hoobastank.
**However, it should be noted that this is one of the main reasons I love The National.
*** At least I hope they’re mailing it in, because otherwise they’ve really fallen off.

David Stern, I will Feel Your Blood On My Hands… TONIGHT!?!?!?

F*ck you David Stern. F*ck you for caring more about your league’s image then about the level of it’s play. F*ck you for being too cowardly to admit that always interpreting this rule by the letter of the law was incredibly foolish and a mistake. F*ck you for allowing other rules to be interpreted subjectively, but not allowing the same treatment for this rule. Also, f*ck you for being to much of a va-jay-jay to show up in Phoenix tonight to take your (verbal) beating like a man. F*ck the NBA for once again ruining a great playoff series and being too stubborn to admit fault. F*ck me for caring for too much about a game that I have no actual impact on. And finally, f*ck me again for not giving up on the NBA after this debacle.

So I was going to write a full blown, essay-length blog on this incident, but I didn’t have the time. You see when you do absolutely nothing all day, like I do, it’s hard to find the time to accomplish even the simplest of tasks. For instance, in order to have fully and satisfactorily written about the suspensions handed down in the Suns-Spurs series I would have had to make time to do so. And what, preytell, could I have cut out?

- The two hours after I woke up that I laid in bed and played my Ukulele? Not likely, seeing as how that relaxes and prepares me to face the day*.

- The hour I spent reading the paper and debating whether or not I should do the dishes I had left from last night? I couldn’t have cut this out, it was the busiest part of my day. I was multi tasking.

- The 15 minutes I walked my dogs and then decided that it was way too hot to be outside? Ok maybe this, but 15 minutes wouldn’t have been enough.

- The hour I spent simulating game on MVP Baseball 2005 in order to get to the playoffs? Not a chance. That sh*ts a priority these days.

- How about the hour and a half in which I went to lunch with my brother? Again, no. Blood is thicker then water.

By the time I got home from lunch PTI was on and I still had dishes to do. So really, I had no time to write. So instead I just decided to give you the extremely shortened version of what I would have written. I left out some really great stuff, like how this is a direct result of the media bias. Thanks to the media labeling basketball players as thugs when they fight, all the while claiming its part of the game anytime a players from any other sports fights. And because of this bias the NBA always overreacts anytime there’s even the slightest of skirmishes. I also was going talk about how dangerous a precedent Stern is setting by allowing the team that deliberately delivers cheap shots can benefit from doing so. I think I also left out some anti-Semitic remarks about Stern, which is probably a good thing.

I could have literally written at least ten pages about this, I was that angry. Especially after the “it’s not about fairness, it’s about correctness” line from Stu Jackson. Really, so you’d rather uphold a stupid rule then allow the players to decide a series? Or after David Stern came off like the most condescending prick ever on the Dan Patrick Show and tried to pass the blame onto the owners and the Suns coaching staff. But, as I’ve already mentioned, other things got in the way of me doing this. So all I really had time left to write was an expletive filled rant and a brief explanation of that rant.

What kills me the most about all of this, is that the people who are going to be the most pissed off by this, i.e. true basketball fans, are the ones who won’t do anything about it. I’m so infuriated that I want to boycott the NBA, but I love basketball too much to do that. If anything, Stern has made more casual fans interested in this game with this ruling. He knows that the people who are most pissed off and most affected by this will always be back. But my ruling this he guarantees his league more press and more casual viewers. So really it’s a smart business move, just an incredibly f*cked up and heartless one. I could go on, but in all likelihood I’d never stop. And I have to go do my dishes anyway.

Until We Meet Again
* And no, playing my ukulele is not a euphemism for masturbation.

A Night With Willie Nelson

So on my last night I in Denver I got a phone call that changed my life. It was from my new favorite person, Joe Hickle. Young Joseph informed me that he had second row tickets to the Willie Nelson concert that was taking place on my first night back in Tucson. He then asked if I would like to go with him, my older brother Luke and our pleasantly plump friend, William Mordka to the concert. Naturally I said yes as quickly as possible. What transpired was one of the best nights I’ve had in some time. Here’s a few highlights from my night with Willie Nelson.

- Willie was playing at one of the Indian casinos here in Tucson, I found this humorous for several reasons. One being that Willie Nelson, the consummate cowboy, was playing at a place which sole purpose is to drive in revenue for Indians. Kinda of ironic. Secondly, he wasn’t even playing at one of the better casinos in town, which also made me laugh. In other news, I have the mental make up of a 10 year old with a gambling problem.
- My brother and I decide we’ll know at least 50% of the songs Willie will play. He opens with “Whiskey River”, so far so good.
- While in lines for beverages, we quickly decide that Willie has far and away the ugliest fan group of any musician, ever. After racking our brains we can’t thing of a single other band or artist who could even come close to this groups, um, looks. I’m not trying to be mean, but the majority of Willie’s fans resembled retired carnies.
- Willie introduces us to the bands piano player, his sister Bobbi. Apparently Bobbi is famous for falling asleep during sets while Willie talks to the crowd. After her introduction Bobbi, who looks paler then an albino, whips the crowd into a frenzy with a saloon style piano solo. We have a serious conversation about whether or not Bobbi is a robot.
- 6 songs in and “Whiskey River” is the only song I’ve fully recognized. I think to myself that my musical historian chops aren’t nearly as good as I thought.
- Willie flips the script on us and plays 4 straight songs of Stardust, all of which I know and love. Thanks Willie.
- On my way to the bathroom I stop by the merchandise stand. I see a bandana I can’t live without. The only question now is whether I put it my arm or my head.*
- Through out the show, audience members keep wandering up to the stage and setting things down at Willie feet. Strangely, this all seems completely natural. Some people put pictures of Willie, which he’ll sign and give back to them. Other people just want to see him up close. Security never interferes with the people who approach Willie. One guy gives Willie his cowboy hat, which Willie immediately puts on. A few songs later, a woman who was at least 65, takes her bra off and then throws it on stage. Willie, being the kind gentlemen he is, then gives this lady the hat he was wearing. I was left speechless by this whole occurrence.
- The guy who gave Willie his hat, which Willie subsequently gave to the lady who gave him her bra, goes over to the lady who is now in possession of his hat. After some pleading the guy regains possession of his hat. Needless to say, all of us were very upset by this chain of events. After some discuss we decide that once you throw an object on stage you’ve lost possession rights to that object. Therefore, cowboy hat guy no longer had any claim to his hat once he chucked it on stage. This guy was a huge douche and should never have asked for his hat back, he broke ‘throwing things on stage etiquette’. This was probably the only down side of the concert.
- Willie takes us home with a series of country classics, the best being his rendition of “You Were Always on My Mind”. Just an amazing show. Willie has to be the most approachable musician I’ve ever seen. He truly appreciates his fans and still loves playing music. Either that or he’s just extremely permafried.
- Instead of leaving the stage after his set, Willie sticks around to shake hands with the fans who have rushed to the front of the stage. He’s also signing autographs the entire time. My brother and I rush up to the stage like 12 year olds girls at a Color Me Badd concert. Willie shakes my brother’s hands and gives it a squeeze for good measure. For some reason the hand I was lifting towards Willie was the one which was holding my beer. I’d like to say that it had something to do with the fact that I was running on four hours of sleep and had been traveling all day or that I was drunk, but neither of these excuses would be true. I just happen to be an absent minded person. Anyhow, my brain fart turned out to be a stroke of genius. After Willie shook my brother’s hand, he grabs the beer bottle out of mine. Willie looks at it for a second, takes a swig from it, signs it and then hands it back to me. Needless to say, this was probably the coolest thing to ever happen to me, at least at a concert.
- As we were leaving, I go into a bathroom stall and placed the signed bottle in my pants. I didn’t want to risk security not letting me out with the bottle. You just never know what kind of power tripping a-hole is working security at an Indian Casino. I then awkwardly walked to the car and placed the bottle in the trunk of our car. We then finished off the night with some blackjack. Good times, good times.

So to recap, seeing Willie Nelson live is awesome. Having Willie Nelson drink from and sign your beer bottle is even more awesome. I am awesome.

In closing, I think I’ll take a Charlie Murphy quote out of context, because it best sums up this while night. Take it away Charlie:

“I mean there’s some great storytellers in the world today, but who the hell could make up that sh*t?”

Not I Charlie, not I.

Until We Meet Again.
* Semi-obscure ‘Real Cancun’ reference.

Would You Rather...

So I was planning on writing a long ass post about the NBA Playoffs and how it parallels to the third (and current season) of Lost. Both desperately want you to believe that in the importance of their ensemble. For the league, they want you to believe that all the teams (or at the very least all of the playoff teams) are of equal importance. Lost wants the viewers to believe that all the characters are of equal importance. The problem with this is, Lost has gone out of its way this season to show us that really only 4-6 characters matter in the grand scheme of things. Likewise, the NBA season has shown that really only 3 teams matter (Dallas, San Antonio and Phoenix). That’s the real reason this season has been so terrible. Everyone with half a brain knows that one of those 3 teams is going to win it all, yet we’ve been force to watch a bunch of other teams that have no shot at winning the title this year. This is also why this season of Lost has blown (although they’ve started to pick it up the last few episodes). The show has already made it clear that only a few of the characters factor in to the big picture, yet they routinely make episodes about the characters who they’ve all but told us don’t matter.

Anyways, I decided not to write that because it would have taken to long. Also, any time I write about sports I get way too long winded and don’t know how to curtail myself. So I decided to do something completely different. Explanation below.

My boy Aaron and I haven’t kept in the best of touch since I moved out to Denver, which is unfortunate. Instead of keeping in touch via phone calls and letters like normal human beings, we decided to simulate the conversations we would be having if we still lived in the same town. We’ve also decided to share those conversations with you. In bold print you’ll find the “Would You Rather Questions” that Aaron asked me. If you check out his blog, you’ll find his answers to the questions that I asked him. I’m really not sure when he’ll finish answering my questions, but here’s the address: blog.myspace.com/thebrightside2

If you were sentenced to death, would you rather have your last meal be the greatest meal you ever ate and a conjugal visit from whomever you want … or no meal and no conjugality but you get a 10% chance you’ll be pardoned by the governor?

This is a loaded question. I feel like I’d have to go with the first option. Even if the low percentage chance that the Govern would pardon me happpened, how can I guarantee that the rest of my life would be better then the best meal of my life and a conjugal visit with anyone I wanted? As a man with a gambling problem, I’d bet the great meal and conjugal visit would treat me better then the rest of my life even if I did get the pardon. And if the odds hold true and I don’t get pardoned, then I’d wasted a great meal and great sex. Ok, maybe this question isn’t as loaded as I thought it was.

Would you rather have the ability to pass any test, this means you get the equivalent of an A on anything from a final to a PhD to a field sobriety test, however you don’t retain any knowledge of the subject… or you develop a photographic memory and the ability to read an entire book in a few hours and retain all that you’ve read but you inevitably fail any test you take?

Jebus, another loaded question. I think that how you answer this question says a lot about you. Would you rather have intelligence or achievement, that’s what it boils down to. I think I’d have to go with the photographic memory. At least that way I’d still be intelligent and the life of any cocktail party. Yeah, I’;m taking intelligence over achievement. I feel like that’s where I’m headed anyway, an intelligent person who will most likely achieve very little. Except replace intelligence with ‘was kinda smart that one time…’,

Would you rather be a starting pitcher for the Oakland A’s with an ERA of 1.46 and a 1.46 inch penis or a mid-relieving pitcher for the Kansas City Royals with an ERA of 9.53 and a 9.53 inch penis?

Well, I’d be living in Kansas City or Oakland. So as far as I can tell, I’m f*cked either way. I think gun to my head I’d rather be the pitcher in Oakland. At least then I’d be rich, or at least I would be once my contract with the A’s ran out. Then I’d have enough money for some sort of penial enlargement surgery or device (insert your own dated and unfunny Austin Powers ‘Swedish Maid Penis Pump’ joke here). That, and if I were playing in Oakland there’s the slight chance that I might get put into Billie Bean’s follow up to "Money Ball".

If you were up for adoption would you rather be adopted by Shaq or Johnny Depp?

Shaq. I have enough problems with the fairer sex as is, but if Johnny Depp was my adopted father I’d be an out and out train wreck. Even the most well meaning of girls would only want to hang out with me for a chance to meet my father, and I just couldn’t handle that. That and having a huge man crush on my father would just be awkward for everyone involved.

If you could travel to the future and take something thing back with you would you rather have a Playstation 5 (with two games) or the entire series of Veronica Mars in a box set (9 seasons)?

I’m going have to go with surprise option C here. I’d pull a Biff Tannen and bring back a Sports Almanac. Also, this is probably the only way I’d ever make money at a Vegas Sports book.

On a semi-unrelated note, I’d willingly forgo a time traveling trip if I knew that Veronica Mars would be on for 9 Seasons. I hate that I actually mean that.Would you rather have a horse tail or only one foot?

Horse tail, much easier to cover up. And unlike having one foot, I feel like I could still do most of the things I love with a horse tail. Although visiting water parks would become incredibly difficult.

Would you rather die in a fist fight with a bionic grizzly bear or in a naked tickle fight with Randy?

Is this a serious question? I’d much rather die fighting a Grizzly Bear. Even though it’d be far more painful, at least then I’d die with some of my dignity intact.
Until We Meet Again

30 Second Album Reviews

Now I know what you’re all thinking “Hey, Calvin hasn’t written a really long, over blown post about music I don’t care about or don’t listen to in awhile. What gives?”. Well don’t fear dear readers, because I’m about to talk about a sh*t ton of music that most people haven’t heard of or would never listen to. Get excited! So just sit back and relax, because this post is going be way to long!

Studies show that it takes the average person 30 seconds to read a 6 sentence paragraph*. In light of that information, I’ve decided to debut my newest gimmick: 30 Second Album Reviews.

As most of you should know, I listen to an inane amount of music. In an attempt to justify that, I’m going to be giving paragraph(s) reviews to some of the albums I’ve been listening to as of late. The Albums rating will be on a scale of 1 to 10. Here goes:

Andrew Bird – Armchair Apocrypha
I feel like I’ve already sufficiently proclaimed this album’s awesomeness. Suffice to say it’s for albums like this that I listen to music.
Rating: 9.9 (I’ll give myself some wiggle room here)

Modest Mouse – We Were Dead Before the Ship Sank
A lot of reviews criticized Modest Mouse for trying to write pop songs. I find this critique rather odd, because while this album is definitely the most poppy in their discography, all the songs distinctly sound like them. It’s not like they sold out and quite frankly this album is sufficiently better then 2004’s ‘‘Good News for People Who Love Bad News’’. So what I’m saying is, don’t believe the negative reviews, this album is very good. The highlight songs are: Missed the Boat**, Spitting Venom, Little Motel, Parting of the Sensory.
Rating: 7.7

Jill Cunniff – City Beach
Jill Cunniff was one of the founding members of Luscious Jackson, a band I never listened to and that 99% of you have never heard of. Now that we have that fun fact out of the way, let’s talk about Ms. Cunniff’s brilliant debut album. Sometime this summer mainstream critics are going catch wind of this album write reviews calling Cunniff ‘A mellower Frou Frou’ or ‘An indie Kylie Minogue’. These reviews will all be (mostly) wrong, because while there maybe some similarities between Cunniff and those artists, none of those comparisons do “City Beach” justice. What this album most reminds me of is a female version of ‘Odelay’. Now I’m not saying that “City Beach” should even be mentioned in the same breathe as Beck’s masterpiece, but that’s just what it sounds the most like. I guess what I’m trying to say is that this album is really good, and you should probably check it out.
Rating: 8.3

Arcade Fire – Neon Bible
I should start by saying that I think this album is better then ‘‘Funeral’’, the Fire’s debut album. That said, I like ‘‘Funeral’’ better. Now I realize those are contradictory statements, so please allow me to explain myself. ‘‘Neon Bible” is better, by a very slim margin, then ‘‘Funeral’’ in almost every way. However, what ‘‘Funeral’’ has over ‘‘Neon Bible’’ is/was its freshness. ‘‘Funeral’’ came completely out of nowhere. When I first heard ‘‘Funeral’’ I immediately loved it. And because it was so unexpected, I felt like I was in the honeymoon phase of a relationship every time I listened to it. There’s just no possible way that ‘‘Neon Bible’’, despite being better, can capture that great feeling that ‘‘Funeral’’ had/has. Either way though, ‘‘Neon Bible’’ is still an amazing album and will probably be one of the best albums I hear this year. Also, as previously documented in this space, (Antichrist Television Blues) is on the short list for song of the year.
Rating: 9.4

Wilco – Sky Blue Sky
Um, I’m still not entirely sure of what to do with this album. It’s really good; it’s just not at all what I expected. This album sounds more like classic southern rock then the indie rock you’d expect from Wilco. I suppose this is the logical extension for Wilco to take ever since Summerteeth. I mean, the logical extension of Alt. Country is Southern Rock right? Either way, this album sounds like the best Allman Brothers record ever, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Also, like all Wilco albums, this one’s a grower. Meaning I like this album more and more each time I listen to it. If I have any complaints at all about this record it’s that a lyricists as talented as Jeff Tweedy shouldn’t have this many long guitar solos in one of his albums. It’s still really, really good, it just wasn’t what I was expecting at all.
Rating: 8.5

Do Make Say Think – You, You’re A History in Rust
This is probably the best Post-Rock album I’ve ever heard. I’d describe it for you, but it would just be awkwardly written and probably incorrect. If I tried to describe Post-Rock all I’d do is name drop obscure bands and use way too many adjectives. So for your sake, I won’t even try. And since I have nothing else to add here I’ll use this space to point out that Paolo Nutini (google him if you don’t know who he is) looks just like Penelope Cruz.
Rating: 8.5

Ted Leo and the Pharmacists – Living with the Living
In the battle to see who can put out the most similar sounding albums, Ted Leo and company inch closer to Starflyer 59 with their 5th album. Now I don’t mean that last sentence to sound like an insult to either Ted Leo or SF59 (abbreviations are fun!). Both bands put out great music on every record and they both have their own distinct sound that they subtly expanded on with each release. I’ve always liked bands that know what they do well and stick with it. This has always been the case for Ted Leo and co. and this is another solid album for them. Also, ‘The Unwanted Things’, which might be the best song he’s ever written.
Rating: 7.3

Explosions in the Sky – All of a Sudden I Miss Everyone
For their 4th album Explosions changed things up, sort of. They’ve cut about 2-3 minutes off all of their songs, which should make their music more acceptable to the masses. Remarkably though, the band still holds on to the best and most powerful part of their music: the silence. I’ve never heard a band, post-rock or other wise, that utilities silence quite like these Texans. I’m not really sure if this is there best effort to date, but at the very least it’s 1B to “those who tell the truth…”. Again I’d like to explain more about this album, but for everyone’s sanity I won’t.
Rating: 8.2

Bloc Party – A Weekend in the City
This is my front runner for most disappointing album of the year. Whoever produced this thing deserves to be shot. On Bloc Party’s debut album, “Silent Alarm”, the drumming was extremely high in the mix and it sounded like some of the best drumming I’ve ever heard on an album. It made every song. Yet for some reason the drumming on this album have been shoved down into the middle of the mix, thus ruining the main thing that made Bloc Party so great. Fans of this record will argue that the song writing is better on this album, but who gives a sh*t? If I wanted to hear a presumably gay guy write moving Brit Rock songs I’d listen to Coldplay. Shame on whoever decided to lower the drums in the mix for this album and shame on Bloc Party for allowing it.
Rating: 5.0

The Shins – Wincing the Night Away
As you’ve probably heard by now, The Shins went electronic on their newest album. Sometimes it works out splendidly, like the first four songs, especially “Sleeping Lessons”. Sometimes it doesn’t work out as well, like on songs 5-10. However, the last song on the album rights the ship and the album ends on a high note. This album has some incredible highlights, but it’s the weakest record The Shins have ever put out. I guess a drop off should have been expected, seeing as how their first two albums were magnificent. Hopefully this will get rid of all the bandwagon, Garden State fans who find their lives the exact same after hearing this album.
Rating: 7.5

Until We Meet Again
* Stat possibly made up by the author because he thought ’30 Second Album Reviews’ sounded cool.
** The bands best song since 3rd Planet.

My Two Cents

Since I’m busy as h-e-double hockey stick this week, I don’t really have time to write out a full blog. However, I do have enough time to weigh in on some hot button issues in the world of sports while procrastinating on my homework. Here goes:

Disrespecting the Knicks:

You may have heard about the New York Knicks players getting upset at the Chicago Bulls for trying to run the score up on them. The Bulls claim they were merely trying to reach 100 points so that their fans could get a free Big Mac. The Knicks, however, felt it was very poor form and extremely disrespectful. This is the second time this year that the Knicks have cried about teams running up the score on them.

Really, if you suck so much that teams can run up the score on you, respect may not be the main issue you should be focusing on. Also keep in mind that the Knicks aren’t a high school girls team, and they’re actually getting paid millions of dollars to play the game of basketball. Personally, I can’t get enough of this story. Instead of actually doing something about their sh*tty play, the Knicks decide to complain to the media about someone else’s poor sportsmanship. I’m still not entirely convinced this isn’t a joke. If you’re still worried about sportsmanship when you’re making millions of dollars to play a game, then you’ve got some serious sensitivity issues. I feel like Charles Oakley needs to come in and teach these Knicks a lesson in not being a p*ssy.

Pacman Jones:

Tennesse Titans cornerback Adam “Pacman” Jones has been suspended for the entire NFL season. I don’t really have anything to add here except that this man needs his own reality TV show. They could call it “My Year-Long Vacation” or “The Off-Season” or “When You Make It Rain, It Pours.” Actually I don’t care what they call it, but Pacman has more than earned the right to have cameras on him 24/7. I mean, this guy couldn’t stay out of trouble when he was playing football, so what’s he going to do now that his life has absolutely no structure? All I know is that this can’t end well for Pacman (or the world). Also, how do you get a nickname like Pacman and what exactly does it mean?

Don Imus vs. Rutgers:

Just in case you’ve been avoiding TV for the past week or so, I’ll explain this situation. Radio host Don Imus called the Rutger’s women’s basketball team, “Some nappy-haired hos.” Since Don Imus is white, he’s not allowed to make this type of remark. I’m not saying this type of remark is ever OK, just that this wouldn’t even be a story if this had been said by someone of color*. Anyways, everyone is now falling over themselves to crucify Imus, who really isn’t worth the effort, being that he’s a psychotic and senile old curmudgeon, but that’s neither here nor there. I think this whole mess is summed up best by my co-worker, and amateur sociologist, Rick:

“Only a ho gets mad when you call her a ho.”

Too true.

Until We Meet Again

* Is it just me or does it seem more racist when you say color instead of black?

Commercial Review

Like the rest of America, I’ve been glued to the television for the past three weeks, soaking up the beauty that is March Madness.

(Side Note: This was probably the worst tournament in recent memory, just terrible all the way around. My heart was also broken for poor Greg Oden on Monday night. He was heads and shoulders above everyone else on the floor, and his teammates let him down in every way imaginable. If I were Oden, I would have walked off the floor with about 5 minutes left to protest my team’s collective sh*tting of the bed. Anyhow, enough with my rant; back to the blog.)

While most bloggers are now writing some sort of tournament wrap-up – praising the obnoxiously brilliant Gators and making unfunny jokes about how old Mr. Oden looks* – I’ve decided to go in another direction. Today I’ll be reviewing the most prominent commercials of the NCAA Tournament. Here goes:

Coke: Coca-Cola

The Commercial: An unassuming 30-something addresses the camera and says, “When I was younger and my grandpa was a coach, I didn’t share his love for the game. So he said, ‘Come be my ball-boy and I’ll buy you a Coke.’ So I did it. A few years later, I was playing in the Sweet 16 and I wasn’t sure if my grandpa could make it. So I called him up and said that if he came to the game, I’d buy him a Coke. He simply said, ‘I’ll be there.’”

Wow, that’s moving…

The Message: If your loved ones don’t care enough to come support you on one of the most important days of your life, try bribing them with a Coke.

Cingular: Cingular Wireless

The Commercial: In these ads, a wise crackin’ Asian spokesperson repeatedly belittles his white friend for not having Cingular as his wireless coverage. They’ve been running these ads for a few years now, and every time I see them a single question comes to my mind: “Why the hell is the white guy friends with that d-bag?” I mean, if any of my friends were ever seriously offended by my wireless network, they wouldn’t be my friend anymore. I realize the commercials point is to make the viewer aware of Cingular’s awesomeness, but are there actually people out there who feel that strongly about cell phone coverage? I mean, I only make fun of my friends for things like body weight, inability to get a “lady,” and their parents being separated.

The Message: Switch to Cingular, or else your friends will openly mock you about your wireless coverage. Also, Asians are much cooler than Caucasians.

Gatorade: Gatorade AM

The Commercial: Gatorade has a new product out called Gatorade AM. Apparently, it’s entirely different than regular Gatorade, because this is Gatorade you can drink in the morning. I mainly bring this commercial up because Kevin Garnett looks great in his milkman outfit, and Peyton Manning patting his ass is even better.

After seeing this ad I wondered if Gatorade would reimburse me for all the non-Gatorade AM’s I drank during the mornings of basketball and soccer two-a-days. Also, can you drink Gatorade AM after noon? And if so, is it still Gatorade AM or does it then become just Gatorade?

The Message: You can’t drink regular Gatorade in the morning anymore.

Smith & Barney: Financial Advisor

The Commercial: This is a series of commercials in with the camera pans in on people lost deep in thought. We then hear a voiceover of their internal dialogues. These people are thinking about some heavy-duty sh*t, and apparently this is the kind a thing you can talk to a Smith and Barney financial advisor about, because all the commercials end with a guy saying, “Throw out the notions of what you think you can talk to a financial advisor about. Smith and Barney.”

I’m not at the point in my life where I need to speak to a financial advisor, but I do have an idea of how to make these commercials better. Have a couple, both lost in thought. We see that the woman’s voiceover is all about this serious financial stuff. Then we pan to the guy, who’s just thinking about gross sexual things. Like the woman’s voice over would say: “I don’t know what we’re going to do when John retires,” or “What about the kids going to college?”

And then the man’s voiceover would be like: “I’d love to have sex with a black chick,” or “I wonder if Cheryl would want to have a threesome with my secretary.”

I feel like this commercial would be more accurate and would probably persuade me to go talk to a financial advisor at Smith and Barney.

The Message: You can talk to your financial advisor about anything. Including (presumably) sodomy.

Enterprise: Car Rental

The Commercial: They’ve been running these same ads since 1995, so you’ve probably seen them before.

The Message: It’s 2007, and Enterprise still picks you up in a gift-wrapped car.

Pontiac: Convertible Freedom

The Commercial: This ad campaign is fairly simple. They just have a bunch of people sit against a black screen spouting anti-convertible propaganda. I find it hard to fathom that anyone would actually be against convertibles. I find it even harder to believe that people would be more apt to buy a convertible based on these anti-convertible stances.

Honestly, none of this adds up. Apparently the masterminds behind Applebee’s Gilligan’s Island ads and McDonalds’s commercials from the last decade have been hired by Pontiac. I mean, honest to gawd, who the hell thinks these commercials are funny? Well, probably my boy Joe Hickle**

The Message: Apparently there are people in this world who are anti-convertible. Buy a convertible to show these people who’s the boss of your life. Or something.

Until We Meet Again

* While I don’t approve of unfunny jokes about how old Greg Oden looks, me and my friends who I was watching the game with decided that he was probably able to buy beer at age 12.
** While in Vegas, my older brother Max figured out that every time you see a commercial and wonder ‘Who would laugh at this?’ Joe Hickle is probably laughing at that commercial.