what our nation can learn from the Knicks

Obviously at this point most of the country believes that it's time to change course on Iraq, and based on the mid-term elections, I think it's safe to say that popular opinion is not with the "troop surge" plan Bush is expected to officially unveil this evening.

But there are still some people around who believe in the war, and therefore think that Bush's idea makes more sense than reducing our troop commitments. Here's one way to spin them around on Bush's new proposal, without arguing that the entire war was a mistake. Hit them with my Isiah Thomas Theory (patent pending), named for the embattled Knicks general manager: once a leader has made a number of bold moves that haven't worked out as advertised, he shouldn't be able to make more big moves.

In the first two years or so of Thomas's reign with the Knicks, he had already made a handful of huge trades, and numerous smaller roster moves, remaking the entire Knicks roster several times over. Several of his moves were not only disasters in retrospect, but they were also widely questioned at the time (the Curry and Francis trades and the Jerome James signing immediately come to mind).

By the end of last season, the result was a team that was among the worst in the NBA, with the league's highest payroll, and little hope for improvement for at least the next few seasons. While many owners would have fired a general manager with that track record, Knicks ownership kept him on, but said, effectively, you're done making big moves; figure out how to straighten out this mess using the players you've got.

Maybe it's because I watch too much of the Knicks (and MSNBC), but the similarity between Bush and Thomas as leaders seems obvious. They've both made bold moves that were widely questioned, but greenlit by the necessary authorities (Bush got Congressional approval for the war, Thomas needed ownership's approval for his roster moves). And both leaders have seen their moves fail, essentially painting their constituencies in a corner for the next several years.

So what would be wrong with Congress treating Bush the way the Dolans treated Isiah, and saying "We've seen enough of your bold moves, so no, you can't send more soldiers to Iraq"? Even if you once thought the war was a good idea, how could you let it escalate under the same leadership when nothing has worked out the way the current leaders have predicted?

No good sports fan--many of whom are Republicans, of course--would let their team be run that way, so why would they accept less from the people running their country?

***

Speaking of our Commander in Theory, check this out. There's an uproar at Southern Methodist University in Dallas, because the university president agreed that the university would host Bush's presidential library without first discussing that with the faculty or students, who, naturally, don't want their fine institution tainted by association with our 43rd president.

In my opinion, however, much of the controversy will fizzle once the student body learns that the entire "library" will consist largely of classic video games and old sports magazines. (Not unlike my apartment, now that you mention it...)

diamond dreams

I had the strangest dream last night. Really, I did.

I picked up the phone and it was a representative of the Seattle Mariners.

"Congratulations, Zack!"
"Um, for what?"
"Didn't you hear? We just drafted you. You lasted until the 28th round, but still..."
"I was drafted?"
"You were drafted!"
"By a baseball team?!"
"All your hard work is finally paying off!"
"What hard work? I haven't played baseball regularly since junior high!"
"Our scouts are high on your upside."
"I'm a 31-year-old insurance salesman. Seriously, there must be a mistake."
"You were on our list."
"I actually used to work with the Mariners, on your team publication. Maybe there was a mixup."
"Hmm, I'll look into it."

The next day--yup, still in the dream--I got another phone call.

"Congratulations!" It was a different voice, but a similar tone.
"What now?"
"I'm calling from the Chicago White Sox. We just made a trade with the Seattle Mariners. You were included in the trade."
So much for upside, I thought to myself: the Mariners are giving up on me already.
"I told them yesterday, this is a mistake. I don't even know if I own a baseball glove anymore."
"Well, you better buy one before Spring Training, because we expect you at the minor league camp. "

"Shit," I thought to myself, right before I woke up, "how am I going to get out of work long enough to attend a month and a half of Spring Training?"

partying with elves and reindeer

If I would have seen this a little earlier, I would have been all over it. Unfortunately, I'll have to settle for this video clip to satisfy my desire to see a bunch of drunk Santas strewn across the city... at least until next year, when I'll do everything in my power to be right there with them.

(I haven't seen the clip yet but I've been advised that it's not safe for work...)

the gift of giving (and, mostly, of receiving)

Gifts were never a big part of life in my family, and when they did appear, they were generally a bit confusing. I would never say that I was deprived—I was lucky to grow up in a stable family, in an upper middle class suburb of New York City. But I’m not going to pretend that it didn’t bug me when my elementary school classmates would show up after Christmas break boasting of new Nintendo games and Laser Tag sets and hundred dollar Nikes, while my Hannukkah haul would include a dreidel, a sheet of stickers, and six other former inhabitants of a local dollar store. If me or my sister got a pencil on the second day of Hannukah, you knew a pencil sharpener was on the way later that week.

My mother would generally leave the price tags on. Years later I would ask why she doesn’t remove the tags, and she would say, with more than a hint of self-satisfaction and no trace of irony, “I want everyone to know how much I spent.”

To give you a sense of how different my parents are, my father, who I now work for, decided to splurge on a 31st-birthday gift for me this year. My birthday is near the holidays so he was overly generous, justifying it as not only a birthday gift but also an end-of-year employee bonus of sorts, buying me a new television. It was the perfect gift, in that I had already picked it out and even purchased it for myself—it was clearly something I wanted. He generously covered my credit card bill for the TV.

My mother didn’t need to get me anything for my birthday, and I don’t want to sound ungrateful. But the assortment of items in the gift bag she presented is nothing less than mystifying. Here’s the rundown:

—One (1) 10 ounce package of Fruit & Nutty brand dried apricots, unopened (though it looks like it might have been sitting around for a little while).
—One (1) small package of supermarket brand chocolate chip cookies. The package is open and appears to be about half empty. An inspection of the torn label from the supermarket indicates that it was originally priced at $2.00 and then marked down to $1.00. The sell by date is Dec. 1, a week before I received the package.
—One (1) small tin containing 50 Earl Grey tea bags, unopened.
—One (1) stretchable book cover, unopened. It’s black, fits books up to 8” x 10”, and according to the label is washable and easy to use.
—One (1) Kids Scribble Slate With Chalk and Eraser. Basically, it’s a small (maybe 4” x 6”) chalk board… with chalk and eraser. The white price tag reads “RETAIL $.99.” (I would have thought the “retail” part would be implied by the fact that it’s a price tag on an item in a retail store, but who am I to say?)
—One (1) 1 ounce package of Kent brand Olite sugar free hard lemon candies. Slogan: ‘”Enjoy the great taste of lemon.” But don’t enjoy it too much, because according to the warning label, excess consumption may have a laxative effect.
—Three (3) 3.5 oz. Lindt brand chocolate bars, wrapped together in a red bow. In an interview conducted while researching this essay, my mother revealed that they were actually a gift to me from a family friend.
—One (1) Rapid brand X-Ray model stapler. It’s small (about 4” long), and light green. The price tag is where things get strange. It says “REG PRICE 2.99” and this is crossed out with a large, neat X. Under that, it says $4.49, no X. It’s hard to imagine that this stapler was marked up from its original price, but maybe the store had a run on small green staplers.
—One (1) bottle of Puritan’s Pride brand Vitamin C tablets. The unopened bottle contains 60 500 mg tablets and is “inspired by nature,” according to the label. I can’t help but wonder if “inspired by nature” is an “orange drink” or “cheese food”-like euphemism for something that didn’t actually come from nature. Sort of like how movies that are “inspired by a true story” give you more than mere facts.

And finally…
—One (1) bottle of Natural Wealth brand Natural Royal Jelly. The bottle contains 50 100 mg softgels. There’s no real explanation of what it is or does. The open bottle has a faded price tag on top ($4.89), and an expiration date on the bottom: “EXP 7/99.”

As if that wealth of goodies doesn’t stand on its own, there’s a card. The card has a bad joke about piercings, which is a little odd considering that I don’t have any piercings. On the inside, my mother wrote, “Dear Zack, you’re a reasonable guy. Best, Mom and Dad.”

It’s thrilling to know that the woman who gave birth to me 31 years ago thinks I’m a reasonable guy, and I have to admit, it’s nice to know that she wishes me the best.

My father was there when I went through the gift bag, and was just as mystified as I was. Never one to hold back, he said to my mother, “That’s not a collection of gifts, that’s just some stuff you found lying around the kitchen!” The chance that she meant the assortment as a joke vanished when we saw her shrug and frown, embarrassed. I smiled and thanked her for the gifts.

The next day, I couldn’t resist asking her what she was thinking. “I wanted to give you things that are a bit of a luxury, things you like, but wouldn’t normally buy for yourself.” It’s hard to argue with logic like that. Indeed, I would have probably never got around to purchasing that chalkboard, or the half-eaten box of cookies. And I shouldn’t have been surprised—after all, this a woman who once wrapped a package my father ordered for himself and gave it to him for his birthday. (This year, she gave him boxers that were one size too big. “Oh, you’re only XXL?” she said, as if to drive home the fact that he can lose a few pounds.)

Oh well, I shouldn’t complain too much. I know she means well, and she certainly put more thought into her gift for me than my father did, even if he was more generous. And hey, bottom line: this bag is a collection of items that I will keep together and cherish forever, stored in a cool dry place to avoid spoilage, except for the odd occasion when I drag it out as a conversation piece.

Rancid revisited, or: If I could do anything I’d do nothing.

Ten years ago this summer, my friend Jason and I saw Rancid in London. We were spending the summer there, it was the summer we were 20. I brought a few CDs with me including Rancid’s “…And Out Come the Wolves,” and hooked Jay on the band. I was broke and unemployed when they played, but I bought a ticket at the last minute despite the fact that it cost about $15. I dragged Jay. About halfway through the show, he was kicked in the face by a crowd surfer and his glasses broke. To this day, it’s probably the coolest thing that’s ever happened to either of us at a concert.

Jay and I went to see Rancid again on Friday night. As we watched the strangely heavy metal opening acts, we couldn’t help but think about old times, thinking about that summer ten years ago.

While we’re reminiscing, I remind Jay about another Rancid show we attended. I wrote about a show we went to at Roseland Ballroom here in New York in 1999. That was right after I graduated college—I was living with my parents and working for a magazine about eyeglasses. Jay was still in school, finishing his degree. I remember thinking that night about how desperately I wanted to live in the city and in essence begin my post-collegiate life; how badly I wanted to make my mark as a writer. Jay wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, and floated the idea of finding a sugar mama. The night of that Rancid concert, Jay locked his keys in his car in Jersey City, and showed up at the concert hours late, right as the band hit the stage. There’s always drama with Jason.

Jay says he’s been thinking about the past a lot lately, nostalgic for his college days, for mid-20s excesses, even for high school summers in the Pennsylvania woods; nostalgic, mostly, for the days before he was married. It’s more than a passing thought; he’s been in a major funk.

The man I once travelled across Europe with said, “I don’t know, man. It’s like I’ve had all my fun, and now all I’ve got left is going to work, grocery shopping and cleaning up the apartment.”

“I know things change, but you don’t have to completely abandon the past, you can still have some fun,” I said. “And as much as you lose some things you’ve enjoyed, you gain others. Being in a new marriage should be a happy time. Even if it’s tense sometimes, there should also be a lot of joy.”

He doesn’t need to tell me there’s no joy. I was trying to make a point about his marriage.
“Sometimes I think it would be great to be single,” he said, his face lighting up. “I could have so much fun.”

I tell him about a theory one of my friends shared recently, that being single for guys gets better as they get older, because single women start to freak out in their late-20s, and by their mid-30s, they see anyone with a steady job and his own apartment as a catch. Even better if you have a sense of humor and you’re not a total asshole. I’m mostly repeating this theory because I think it’s twisted and funny, but I’d be lying if I didn’t add that it makes me feel a little better about my odds of finding Ms. Right. (As a side note, I recently shared this idea with a female friend, who immediately threatened to punch me in the face. This suggests, of course, that this theory can’t be all wrong.)

Jay smiles, maybe because he’s amused, maybe because the idea is comforting. “I’d have such a good time.”

“But it’s not just my wife. I don’t even know what I want to do with my life… if I could do anything, I’d do nothing.”

Maybe that’s fine, I tell him, or maybe we’ve all over-rated the importance of finding happiness through our work. I’ve been having my own career crisis lately—burnt out on publishing and hating my company’s management, I left a job that many people would love. Now I’ve joined the family business, selling insurance. And the crazy part? I haven’t regretted that decision for a second. I’ve always felt like I need to do something interesting, and now I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time, working the most boring job I’ve ever had.

Maybe that’s just because the insurance thing is new, I tell Jay, and myself. Maybe the job and I are still in the honeymoon stage. Or maybe it’s okay to have a job that leaves me with more creative energy for my own writing and filmmaking projects.

At about 10, we’re yawning as Rancid takes the stage. We’re standing in a quiet area near the bar on the side of the stage, far from the mosh pit. Of all the times Jay and I have seen Rancid, we’ve never been this close to the band, or this far from the wild crowd. A few times during the show I consider jumping into the crowd, but something keeps me planted at stage right.
Since we’re close to the band, and able to focus on the performance without worrying about errant crowd surfers, details I never noticed before jump out at me. The bandmembers are aging—not in a Rolling Stones kind of way, but Rancid has been around for a while and its members are pushing 40. There’s something especially creepy about aging punk rockers: wearing a studded belt and spiky hair is cool when you’re 18, but when you’re 40, it’s a little disturbing. Sure, there are some older punks around, but most of them have matured in certain ways, even if their music is still the same as it ever was. For example, Joe Strummer wasn’t still dressing like a stereotypical punk in the years before he passed away. Even The Sex Pistols, on their reunion tour in the late ’90s, updated their attire somewhat. True, The Ramones never got rid of their motorcycle jackets, but they were cartoon characters, like Kiss, and the persona was a big part of the show. The same isn’t really true of Rancid, but it’s as if the band members don’t know who to be, if not who they portray on stage.

I can’t help but wonder what they’d be like if I met them in real life. Do they have file tax returns? Shop for groceries? Go to parent-teacher nights?

Every third word out of Lars Frederikson’s mouth is a curse (which I'm fucking fine with, but still), and everything he says is spoken with an intensity that’s somehow very angry, condescending and 100% punk. In fact, he also likes to remind the crowd here and there of what punk rock is about, or not about. (PUNK: friendship, reggae, “circle pits.” NOT PUNK: fighting, and, um, jocks who like to fight.) On his own time, I picture him pulling up to a drive-thru and saying, “Gimme a fucking In N’ Out burger with cheese and a fuckin’ shake. Milkshakes are what punk rock is all about!”

Tim Armstrong, the band’s other singer/guitarist, is less chatty and therefore more enigmatic. Bowlers hat askew on his head, hunched forward and slinking around the stage, guitar dangling from his neck as if it’s dragging him down—and would it kill him to pull up his pants every few songs? He’s a guy anyone in the room would avoid at a party… but then, maybe Lars would say that’s part of what punk rock is all about.

The early highlight of the show was a great version of the Operation Ivy song “Knowledge.” It was awesome—but it would be overshadowed by what would happen half an hour later, during the encore.

I know I’m getting old because as the band’s set is winding down, my ears are already ringing. I can’t stop worrying that I may be damaging my hearing permanently. I shout in Jay’s ear, asking if he thinks it’s too loud. He said, “You think it’s too loud? I don’t think it’s loud. Shit, I hope I’m not going deaf.”

In another sign that even the band is getting old, or perhaps taping this show for a live album, they come out for the encore and—are you ready for this?—did an acoustic set. All four band members—yup, even the drummer—were standing side-by-side on the front of the stage strumming acoustic guitars that, needless to say, appeared to be less worn than the electrics the band members had been brutalizing during the previous portion of the show.

“What is this, Four Man Acoustical Jam?” said Jay, invoking the legendary (?) early-90s Tesla acoustic album. “I don’t know,” I replied, “Do you think they’re gonna play ‘Signs’”?

They didn’t play “Signs.” Instead they played “Fall Back Down,” with a chorus of “If I fall back down, you’re gonna pick me back up again/If I fall back down, you’re gonna be my friend.” Someone should have advised the band that if they’re going to go soft with the instruments, they should at least balance that out by playing one of the songs that advocate violent revolution, or at least violence in the mosh pit. Playing acoustics, busting out four-part harmonies and singing about friendship—who knew Rancid could sound so sappy?

The next song was simultaneously the highlight and also the indisputed low point of the evening. They played “Sound System.”

“Sound System” was recorded by the pre-Rancid band Operation Ivy, which shared two members with the band I was watching on stage. To my knowledge, Rancid had never performed this song during its 15-odd years of existence. At the very least, Rancid had never performed any Op Ivy songs at any of the seven or eight or nine Rancid shows I’ve attended. And tonight they played two, including “Sound System,” my favorite of them all.

To put this in perspective, it reminds me of how Deadheads freaked out because their heroes played “Casey Jones” after something like twenty years of not playing the song. (I may be wrong about the actual song, and for my money, it doesn’t matter.) If Deadheads can go ga-ga over a song about driving a train while snorting coke, why can’t I get fired up about hearing a song I’ve been itching to hear live since I first heard it in Johnson Hall in 1995?

I could barely contain my enthusiasm. I think I almost danced at one point. But quickly, the moment soured as reality sank in. They’re playing “Sound System”… but it’s acoustic (somehow)… and… it sucks. Jay likes to use the word “weak” to describe things he doesn’t like, and in this case that summed it up. If “Fall Back Down” was painfully sappy, “Sound System” was slightly less so, but sounded more like a summer-camp singalong. Anyone who thinks folk music can’t be powerful has obviously never heard an Ani Difranco record, or a Bob Dylan record, for that matter. But here was a punk band playing a song that came off folky in the least appealing connotation of that word, and even worse, they were butchering a song I loved. You can see how this would be a complicated moment; it aroused mixed and difficult feelings that would take months, if not years, to sort out.

It was almost as disappointing and strange as realizing that after years of struggling in the publishing world, you might enjoy a job selling insurance better than your previous job writing and editing sports magazines. Or, I suppose, as odd as having a nice apartment and a decent job and attractive wife—everything we’re all supposed to want—and recognizing that somewhere along the way you lost everything that really makes you happy.

The band played a few more songs after that, but to be honest, it was all a blur, as if I had suffered a gut punch and was waiting out the next few minutes until the round was over. One song was dedicated to Agnostic Front. Fair enough. Another song was something no one knew, sung by a young girl with a shaky voice and short skirt.

Jay snarled, “Do you think she’s a contest winner?”

I said, “If none of the band members are sleeping with her, they’re doing something wrong.”

Hey, Lars, can I get a ruling? Is it punk to bring your too-young girlfriend onstage to sing a song?

I miss the days when I could go to a show and accept it all at face value.

attempting to make up for a two-month absence with a single long-ass entry

Yup, I’ve been away. After about five months of steadily posting here, I disappeared. That was two months ago, and now I’m back. Yiiiiiipppppeeeeeeee!

Where have I been, you ask? Well, I left one job, took three weeks off, then started another. I’ve left the world of publishing and, in an obvious sellout move, entered the family business and started selling insurance. (I know, I know--I've gone from being practically a Woody Allen impersonator to the punchline of one of his jokes.) Whether I stick with the world of property and casualty loss ratios is open to debate, but for now, that’s my gig.

Out of the office, I’ve put a lot of time into my short film, Yin/Yang. After a tedious and frustrating six months in the editing room, the ten-minute movie is now essentially finished (all that remains is some expensive and possibly unnecessary technical work that we may or may not splurge decide to go ahead with), and set to premiere at the Los Angeles Short Film Festival on Sept. 9. The Yin/Yang website will be up-and-running soon, so watch this space for more information.

I’m not going to promise to return to posting here more than a couple of times a week. With the new job situation, I just don’t have as much flexibility in the office. But I will try to post occasionally.

* I succumbed to the hype and caught a late show of Snakes on a Plane last night. As expected, it straddled the line between bad and intentionally bad like few movies before it, virtually redefining camp for a new generation. Despite that, though… it was still somehow disappointing. Yes, some of it was knowingly funny, but there wasn’t enough of that, and some of the funniest moments (like two predictable-yet-enjoyable moments in the airplane’s bathroom) felt tacked on. There was very little intentional humor; Samuel Jackson—one of the film’s biggest selling points—was criminally underused; and too much of the film did seem to take itself seriously. Sure, it was bad, but maybe not bad enough. Was it really that much worse than the movie about sharks that took place in upstate New York? Or for that matter, most of the B-movies that appear on cable late at night?

One area where the filmmakers really dropped the ball was with the casting. Getting Jackson was brilliant move, but other than him, it was as if they scraped together the rest of the cast with whatever they could find in the bargain bin. I mean, the secondary lead was some dude named Nathan Philips, who probably got the job because he placed third in a Marky Mark lookalike contest. Imagine if they had really played up the casting in this one, and sought out the type of familiar faces that would bring something to the table before they even said a word? Instead of Sam Jackson and a bunch of no-names, what if the cast looked more like this:

Burt Reynolds
Pauly Shore
Roberto Benigni
Lesley Nielson
Snoop Dogg
Hulk Hogan
Christopher Lloyd
Bruce Campbell
Jackie Chan
Rosanne Barr
Paris Hilton
Jenny McCarthy
Patricia Arquette
Frances McDormand
Bebe Neuwirth

Wouldn’t that have made for a much more watchable movie? And it’s not as if luring that cast would have broken the bank. Here’s to hoping the producers follow my advice when they cast the inevitable sequel (Snakes on a Boat? Snakes on a Train? Snakes on a Plane 2: The Return Flight).

On another notes entirely, what does it say about our zeitgeist that Snakes on a Plane has become so buzzworthy? This movie’s appeal is largely based on being dumb, simple (the title describes the whole concept) and silly. Shall we read into this film’s success to assume that our society during Bush’s second term can be described in these same words? Or is the film’s enthusiastic reception more suggestive of the fact that there’s an unfulfilled desire for Snakes’s unique attributes? In other words, is this movie a success because it reflects our culture, or because it reflects something our culture has been lacking?

Of course, despite the early hype, whether this film will actually turn out to be an unqualified success is still inconclusive; it’s worth noting that the 10:30 opening night screening I attended last night at a popular Manhattan theater wasn’t even close to sold out, and the young, drunk audience’s hugely enthusiastic response suggests that it’s more likely that Snakes will never be anything more than a cult film. Only time (and, perhaps, opening weekend grosses) will tell.

* After the blip-in-the-radar that was the 2004 season, all seems right with the world again, or at least the world of the Yankees and Red Sox. Since July 4, the teams have swung 8 ½ games in the standings, as the Red Sox have reverted to their late-summer-swooning ways.

This weekend, in a heavily promoted five-game series between the two teams, the Bronx Bombers have piled on. The third game is wrapping up as I write this, and so far the Yanks have scored 39 runs in winning all three games. It’s the first time in the Red Sox rich history that they have allowed 12-or-more runs in three straight games. More important, New York moved to 4 ½ games up in the AL East. The Red Sox also happen to be 3 ½ out of the Wild Card race.

I realize I’m risking a potential jinx by writing this, but the Yankees offense looks unbeatable right now. If New York’s pitching can continue to be decent, I like the team’s chances in the playoffs…

* Speaking of jinxes, both of my fantasy teams are riding high in first place. My newer team has something like a 20 point lead, while I’m hanging on by a narrow margin in the league I’ve been a part of for several years. In that league, I added Johan Santana, Mark Teixeira and Armando Benitez in two separate deals at the deadline. It’s a keeper league, and all three of those guys are free agents at the end of the year, but I think I did well in only giving up Mike Jacobs, Ian Snell, Johnny Gomes, Oliver Perez and a mid-range 2007 draft pick for two studs (Santana and Teixeira) and a player I desperately needed (Benitez, to boost my standing in saves, my weakest category). I was also happy to be able to add Jay Payton in a supplemental draft right after the trade; I plugged him in for Gomes, and that’s also given me a boost in production.

In my other league, I made a trade about a month ago that I’m much less happy about. I acquired Mike Mussina, who’s fallen off a little bit since the trade, for a stud prospect (Andrew Miller) in a league with three minor league keepers, and 4th and 10th round picks in next year’s draft. That one will hurt a bit next year, and in retrospect Mussina hasn’t helped much. Oh well, live and learn.

the party of high school wallflowers and inexperienced poker players

I hate to cite the N.Y. Times for the second time in one day, but there's an article by Jim Rutenberg and Adam Nagourney about how the GOP has decided to face the war issue head on.

I was so frustrated that I couldn't even read the whole thing. But I did read this:

...there was little sign of such nervousness on Wednesday as Republican after Republican took to the Senate floor to offer an unambiguous embrace of the Iraq war and to portray Democrats as advocates of an overly hasty withdrawal that would have grave consequences for the security of the United States.

That's the difference between the Republicans and Democrats. Even when the Repubs have what seems like a losing hand--defending an unpopular war that was their idea—they face the issue head on with the cock-sure composure of an expert poker player trying to bluff out a rookie. They're unified and on the offense, and that confidence sways voters. Meanwhile the Democrats (who, in my poker analogy at least, would be the intimidated newbie), argue amongst themselves about unrealistic plans and will, if recent history is any guide at all, end up coming up with a half-assed plan that be sort of against the war but not so strongly against it that someone in favor of the war wouldn't think the Democrats are their party, too.

In other words, they won't end up standing for anything. And, just as in every other aspect of life, in the end confidence—even misplaced—will win out over thoughtful indecision. Ask any shy high school kid who ever lost a girl to an arrogant bully. (Sigh.)

Is it too much to ask that the Democratic Party get it's shit together to the point that the "shy high school kid" comparisons can stop? It's frustrating to support a party that needs a growth spurt.

But hey, at least we have the Hilary Clinton candidacy to look forward to. She'll play in the South and Midwest, right? Right?

Sigh.

don't swat the small stuff (eat it instead)

It's not every day that I'll post an entry about food—granted, I probably spend more money on food than anything else (living in Manhattan and not cooking very often can get expensive), but I'm not the most adventurous eater.

Which is why I found this article by Jennifer Gampbell in today's N.Y. Times so fascinating. The article is about the cuisine of the Ubon region of Thailand... where bugs are a staple of the diet.

I'll let the article speak for itself. First, a look at what it's like to eat a fried scorpion (!):

The appendages were suitably crunchy (except for the unchewable claws), although rancid frying oil and too much salt spoiled the overall experience. Having thus conquered my squeamishness, I had some grasshoppers (crispy) and crickets (slightly soft but small enough to eat quickly) and asked my Thai friend whether fried bugs always tasted this greasy and salty.

There's also this unintentionally hilarious passage first about health conscious bug cooking, followed by a description of what sounds like the most disgusting dish I could ever imagine:

Health consciousness has reached the frying pans and woks of Ubon insect chefs; many now cook with dry heat instead of gallons of oil. I ordered a small plate of mounded grayish-brown flies (nobody knew their English nomenclature) that had been pan-fried with slivers of lemon grass. To accompany them I chose a type of som tam made with khanom chin (thin rice flour noodles) with the standard additives of lemon juice, palm sugar, peanuts and dried shrimp.

Hey, maybe it's me—when I'm feeling up for something exotic, as I was this morning, I go for the rye bagel instead of sesame seed. But I don't see myself popping "grayish-brown flies" of undisclosed origin into my mouth anytime soon, with or without lemon grass garnish.

keeping it real

An article by John Dickerson on slate.com today about the spirited challenge Joe Lieberman is receiving from liberal upstart Ned Lamont, who is pressing Lieberman—and scoring points in the electorate—by portraying the 2000 Vice Presidential candidate as being too cozy with the Bush administration. (According to the article, a popular Lamont button features Bush kissing Lieberman.)

Considering that Lieberman has gotten plenty of milage out of being a conservative Democrat, and used that to become more popular with Republicans than with Democrats (he's sort of a Democratic John McCain, except without McCain's seeming sincerity), it's easy to root for Lamont. The Lieberman camp apparently recgnizes that their candidate might be vulnerable, as they're reportedly encouraging Joltin' Joe to run as an independent. Before we get too high on Lamont, note that even though he has momentum, he still trails the incumbent by 15 points.

Interesting stuff, we'll see how this develops...

swinging the soccer moms (and dads)

Interesting article by Timothy Egan in today's N.Y. Times suggests that as suburbs become more dense (and in turn, demographically diverse) they tend to skew Democratic. Meanwhile, as new suburbs or exurbs begin to emerge from what had previously been rural areas, their residents vote Republican in overwhelming numbers.

According to the article, both parties are focusing on these "swing suburbs" in this year's midterm elections. Democrats see an opening in historically Republican suburban districts in Chicago, Washington, Virginia, Colorado and elsewhere, while Republicans are targeting fast-growing new suburbs in many of those same states.

How will this play out politically?

...experts note that the exurbs in the fastest-growing counties provide a very small share of the nation's vote...In looking at the 50 biggest metropolitan areas, which have about 150 million people, Dr. Lang found that 90 million lived in a somewhat older suburb and that only 5.6 million lived in the exurbs, where Mr. Bush's vote was strongest.

This is good news for the Democrats, not just in this election, but moving forward. It's safe to assume that our suburbs will continue to become more dense, and if established suburbs grow more liberal as they become more crowded, this suggests nothing less than that our country is becoming more liberal, or at least more reliably Democratic.

The Republicans can have the exurbs—once they develop, they'll swing Democrat eventually, too.

housing the homeless

There's a fascinating article by Erik Eckholm in today's New York Times about a radical effort to solve chronic homelessness—giving the homeless apartments. In more than 20 cities, including New York, Philadelphia and San Francisco, the program effectively reduced the number of homeless by offering the chronic homeless small efficiency apartments, with medical and addiction treatments in house.

Maybe the most shocking aspect of this program is that it's actually cost effective.

... officials found that 25 men were taken into emergency detoxification centers for an average of 80 nights each in one year, at a total cost of $772,000. Officials have found that they can provide housing and most medical and other services for about $15,000 a year per person.

In fact, Philip Mangano, the Bush appointee who heads up the program, has successfully leveraged this potential financial savings as a way to expand his program.

Wherever he goes, Mr. Mangano, 58, who was director of the Massachusetts Housing and Shelter Alliance, emphasizes that it is cheaper to put the chronically homeless right into apartments, and provide medical and addiction treatments there, than to watch them cycle endlessly through shelters, soup kitchens, emergency rooms, detoxification centers and jails.

The results so far have been stunning. According to the article, the number of chronic homeless has declined by 60 percent over five years in Philadelphia, and by more than 25 percent over the same period in San Francisco and Dallas.

Here's to hoping that Mr. Mangano and his agency keep up the good work.

the dumbest argument I've ever seen, for anything

Intelligent design, in all its silly silliness... but it is nice to see Kirk Cameron working again.

(Thanks to Mike K. for pointing this out.)

more quick hits...

• Had a great weekend visiting DC. Going to the National Archives was inspirational in more ways than one. First off, seeing the Declaration of Independence and Constitution in the flesh, and early, hand-written drafts of the Bill of Rights including amendments that didn't make the cut... you realize that once upon a time, these were all just ideas, ideas hashed out in late-night discussions, and probably scribbed on the 18th century equivalent of a barroom napkin. And right there on paper, in the documents our founding fathers agreed on, is the backbone of our country. I'm getting practically misty eyed; that's my cue to move on to the next item, before I degenerate into sappyness, if it's not already too late.
• Also at the Archives, a photo exhibit on American workers through the years struck a nerve. Compared to, say, mining or working in a sweatshop, my job proofreading tedious crap all day doesn't seem so bad. At least I have iTunes and the internet to distract me from my depressing life.
• Here in New York, the local media has reacted strongly today to the news that Homeland Security Secretary Michael Chertoff has slashed New York City's anti-terrorism funds by nearly 40 percent, while substantially boosting funds to terrorist hotspots like Louisville, Ky. and Omaha, Neb. Even stranger, part of the justification for the slash is that, according to a Homeland Security document, New York has no "national monuments or icons"—that's right, not one—worth protecting. Take that, Stock Exchange and Empire State Building! And screw you too, Lady Liberty. I've never liked your tired and poor masses anyway. Why are they always huddled like that? Wait a second—New York is full of liberals, foreigners, minorities, the media, the United Nations... Memo to the White House: Why didn't you think of this sooner?
• Bruce Reed's "The Has Been" column is always worth reading—if only he'd start cranking them out more often. This time around, he writes amusingly about how Republicans have been upset with the Bush administration over the search of Rep. Bill Jefferson's office.

exposing A-Fraud!

Watching A-Rod every day, I can't argue that he's at his best in big money games. Even so, his reputation for being all-garbage time and no clutch is a little absurd. You can't put up the kind of numbers Mr. Rodriguez puts up without helping your team win. (And isn't it about time we all stopped holding his salary against him? It's not his fault Rangers owner Tom Hicks monumentally overpaid; any of us would have signed that contract, just like A-Rod.)

Anyway, I enjoyed seeing DJ Gallo take a sarcastic hack at A-Rod bashers in a story for espn.com's Page 2. Here's an excerpt:

In a division that is as uncompetitive as the AL East, games in late May mean absolutely nothing. Nope, only the postseason matters. And until A-Rod comes up huge in a World Series with the pressure on and single-handedly wins a championship for the Yankees, I won't believe in him. (Oh, and it has to be in Game 7 of the World Series against the Red Sox, or it won't count.)

making up for lost time

I know, I know. I've been away. Have you missed me? I spent the long weekend down in DC (more on that below), and I've also been spending some quality time with my girlfriend and devoting much of my remaining time to looking for a new day job... if you know anyone who's hiring, let me know.

So yeah, lots going on. In fact, because there's so much ground to cover, here's a bunch of quick hits:

• From the world of baseball, the Yankees have now won five in a row, including three of four over the Tigers, who (somehow) have the best record in baseball. It would be great to see the Yankees win again tonight, sweeping the four game series, especially if they can score a bunch of runs off stud rookie Justin Verlander and completely break his spirit in the process. There's nothing shakier than a rookie's confidence, and since Verlander isn't on my fantasy team...
• Speaking of my fantasy teams, my season is off to an incredible start. I've been in or near first place in both of my leagues for weeks now. Today, I'm in first with a nice lead in the Cheap Seats league, and a nose out of first (in second) in the Buffalo Heads. With Clemens and Gagne set to return, and youngsters Anthony Reyes and Jered Weaver called up and pitching well, I should get a boost. Though I'd be crazy to expect guys like Corey Patterson and Eric Byrnes to continue to play as well as they have, and unless I find another closer in the Buffalo Heads league, I can't really expect to win. Right now I've got Tom Gordon and, um, Eddie Guardado.
• I'm proud of a trade I made a couple of weeks ago, though it could still bite me in the ass. At the height of his hype, I traded hot rookie pitcher Cole Hamels for Scot Shields and Kyle Farnsworth, in a 6x6 league that counts holds. I knew about Hamels' injury history, and holds was my weakest category, so the trade seemed like a worthy risk, even after Hamels' first start. Now that Hamels is on the DL again, the trade looks great (even with Farnsworth not pitching particularly well.)
• It's encouraging to see how the Yankees are holding their ground--tied for first with the Red Sox--despite all of their injuries. Matsui, Sheffield, Pavano and Sturtze will be out for a while, and Damon, Jeter and Posada all have nagging injury issues. Yet other guys keep stepping up (Did anyone think Melky Cabrera would hit .320? Even his mother is stunned.) and the Yanks keep winning, despite relying on guys like Kelly Stinnett, Miguel Cairo and Scott Proctor. You could actually make a case that they look better on the field right now than they did about a month ago, when their roster was nearly at full strength.
• The Mets won in extra innings again last night. They're starting to give off that team-of-destiny vibe this year, with lots of exciting young talent (including this week's stud callup, Lastings Milledge) and what appears to be great team chemistry. I argued early in the season that David Wright was overrated—sure, he's good, but let's see him play like A-Rod, or at least Miguel Cabrera, before we start calling him one of the best players in the game—and now I'm eating my words, as Wright has already had four game-ending hits and has to be considered an MVP candidate. (I'm not saying he's gonna beat out Pujols... but someone's gotta finish second, right?)
• This story is already a borderline cliche here in New York, but how much better would the Mets be right now if they hadn't traded Scott Kazmir for Victor Zambrano? Zambrano, the team's fourth or fifth starter, is now out for the year. Meanwhile Kazmir is a legit Cy Young candidate with seven wins (on an awful Devil Rays team), a 2.86 ERA and more than a strikeout an inning. At age 22, Kazmir is second (to Johan Santana) in the AL in Ks, and won't be a free agent until 2011. At which point the Mets will have the chance to get him back for about $20 million a year.
• Over in Red Sox Nation, the team's vaunted 1-2 punch of Schilling and Beckett has already combined for 15 wins. But check out what castoffs Bronson Arroyo and Derek Lowe are doing: Lowe's ERA is a run lower than Schilling's (3.93 to 2.90), while Arroyo (2.58) is pitching almost two runs a game better than Beckett (4.46). But then, that's what moving from the AL to the NL can do (though Cincinnati's home field isn't exactly a pitcher's paradise—just ask Eric Milton).

Okay, well, apparently I had a lot to say about baseball. More quick hits later on everything else going on in the world.

wedding madness

Matrimony Fever strikes again this weekend. An old friend is getting married Sunday. I already went to an engagement party, a bachelor party long weekend in Montreal (technically, this means we visited another country, though the strippers have no problem with the U.S. dollar), and went way out of my way to be fit for a tuxedo (I'm in the wedding party, but the entire wedding is black tie, which ensures that more people get to share the fun of renting uncomfortable clothing).

Now tonight, I'm expected to make another trip out to the tuxedo rental shop to try on the actual tux. Then this Sunday, I finally have the wedding; I've blocked out my Friday and Saturday nights anticipating that more wedding fun will kick in.

I have a friend who has a wedding coming up that had two separate, competing showers—both surprises for the lucky bride-to-be—thrown by her mother and the groom's mother, who don't get along. There was also, of course, an engagement party, and a bachelor party, and a party for the bridesmaids during the bachelor party (apparently two showers aren't enough), not to mention plenty of dress fittings. She's pulling her hair out, which sadly will give her hair stylist less to work with in her pre-wedding visit to the salon.

Worst of all, there are more weddings on the horizon. As soon as one of them wraps, it seems like another friend calls to tell me they just got engaged. I should be happy for them, and I am... but selfishly, it's also a little bittersweet. You mean I might need to rent another tux?

I've always said that when I get married, it'll be an intimate ceremony that'll steer clear of all the extraneous crap. But now I'm thinking about going in the opposite direction, to get back at all my friends who have put me through the paces with their weddings. First off, my wedding will be in Alaska. In the winter. And not in one of the populated areas—I'll find an area that's only accessible by dog sled. There will be at least four wedding-related events, all absolutely mandatory (unless the guest doesn't care about my feelings, snif snif), each at least a week and a half apart. At the ceremony, every attendee will be expected to offer a toast and/or memorize a complicated prayer in a dead language. There will be a large guest list; in fact, if you're reading this, you're invited. Bring something nice.

And yes, it will be black tie. You haven't lived until you've worn a tux on a dog sled.

dissing Da Vinci

"The Da Vinci Code" is getting panned, and for anyone who read the book, it wasn't hard to see this coming. Granted, Akiva Goldsman ("A Beautiful Mind" and "Cindarella Man") is probably a more talented screenwriter than I am. But this is a rambling page-turner of a book that is fascinating in part for its historical tangents, and in part for its puzzles that wouldn't seem to translate effectively to the big screen.

Right now, on rottentomatoes.com—a site that compiles reviews from other sources—Da Vinci has a lower composite rating (21% of critics like it) than (gulp) "Poseidon" or "RV."

Here's A.O. Scott, writing for the N.Y. Times, describing the film:

"The Da Vinci Code"... is one of the few screen versions of a book that may take longer to watch than to read.

But you know what? Sadly, I'll probably still go see it—even at the nearly $11 it costs to sit in a theater in New York City.

even better than the real thing

This is old news, but a fantastic prank. A New York improv group impersonating U2 took to a rooftop for an imprompu "concert" across the street from Madison Square Garden the same day the real band played there last year. (U2 has played unscheduled shows in L.A., Dublin and New York, which added credibility to the prank.)

The imposters got through almost five songs—including an encore—before the police stopped the show. Because the band (mostly made up of members of a cover band, dressed to the part) were barely visible from the street, most onlookers bought that it was U2.

The group's recount of the event is hilarious, with a detailed look at the planning and aftermath of the event, include the cops' reaction to learning that The Edge was impersonated by a Korean American.

Bill Simmons blows minds

As the man himself might say, there are your everyday bad decisions, there are the moves Isiah has made with the Knicks, and then there's this:

ESPN.com columnist Bill Simmons—who, to be clear, I read regularly and think is extremely talented and one of the funnier writers out there today, working in any medium—wrote a several thousand word running diary of yesterday afternoon's "Mike and the Maddog" show, a sports talk program on New York's WFAN.

Granted, the show is now simulcast on TV over the YES Network, which is available nationally via Direct TV (I think). And starting a few weeks ago, you can also listen to a web cast (you can find it here). Even so, what percentage of people outside of the New York area remotely give a shit? And even among New Yorkers like me, who tune in to "Mike and the Maddog" occasionally—did we need thousands of words to make fun of (and strangely, mostly flatter) this show?

And flatter Simmons does. Here's a couple of glaring excerpts:

• "...it's my favorite radio show ever. As I have mentioned many times in this space, I despise pretty much all forms of sports radio at this point, and it's mainly because Mike and the Dog are so entertaining."

• "I could listen to Mike read just about anything random -- Star Jones' autobiography, Michael Bolton lyrics, the Emergency Broadcast System's test message, an erectile dysfunction ad, you name it -- and be thoroughly entertained."

• "Dog struggles to say the word "Phillies." He's not strong with his L's and his R's. That's part of his charm."

• "Nobody has better jingles than this show. My favorite is the prolonged one at the start of the hour that goes, 'They're going at it as hard as they can! Mike and the Mad Dog, on the FAN. Nothing can get by 'em, turn it on and try 'em... Mike and the Mad Dog! W-F-A-N!!!!!'"

(Personally, I've always thought the fact that their jingle includes the line "They're going at it as hard as they can" is hilarious in a junior-high-school kind of way, and I'm absolutely stunned that Simmons bothered to mention the jingle and passed up on an opportunity to point that out.)

It's incredible that ESPN.com would run this, that Simmons would want to write this in the first place, and that he would write it and somehow it would wind up being even less interesting than anyone could have predicted. I mean, aside from the joke about John Flaherty ("Tonight at 11 on Yankeeography ... John Flaherty beats the odds to become the most mediocre backup catcher in Yankee history!"), there's very little here that's funny—even if you actually listen to the regional sports talk show he's writing about.

Unintentional comedy scale, anyone?

new poll offers clues about '06, '08

A new N.Y. Times/CBS News poll was released today, and the news is bleak for the party in power. Things haven't exactly gone from bad to worse; to put it more precisely, and in words Bush might use, they've gone "from worse to worser."

Here are some highlights from the poll:
• Bush's overall approval down to 31%. As the Times points out, in the last 50 years only Nixon and Carter have ever had lower approval ratings.
• Bush's handling of the following issues each polled at less than 30%: Iraq, foreign policy, the economy, immigration, and gas prices (only 13%).
• Only 23 percent think our country is on the right track. This is a historically bad figure. By comparison, before the "Republican Revolution" in the '94 midterm elections, 30 percent thought our country was on the right track. Bush would kill for 30 percent right now.
• Along the same lines, only 23 percent approve of the job Congress is doing. Although, prehaps predictably, Americans aren't blaming themselves: despite negative feelings toward Congress as a whole, 53 percent approve (and only 31 percent disapprove) of their individual representative. These figures show how tough it will be to win back a majority in the House, but the comparison to '94 is once again favorable. Before that election, 56 percent held positive views of their representative.
• More good news: 36 percent see their vote this fall primarily as a chance to indirectly vote against Bush, while only 45 percent say thier vote for a Congressman will not reflect their approval or disapproval of the Prez. Think about that for a second: almost as many people say they plan to use their vote this fall to penalize Bush, as to evaluate the candidate they'll actually cast a vote for.
• Here's a slightly surprising tidbit that could influence 2008: despite the huge gains by Democrats, some prominent figures have actually seen their approval ratings decline. Don't expect to see Gore or Kerry do well if they run in the Democratic primary; they both have less than a 30 percent approval rating. Curiously, Kerry's approval rating is now 14 points lower (at 26 percent) than it was right after he lost the election.

You don't need to be an expert to see that things look good for the Democrats, but we're still six months away from the election. But then, considering the incompetence of the Bush administration—especially in the last couple of years—things could actually look even better for Dems when November rolls around.

And as far as '08, not only is that still years—and hundreds of news cycles—away, but this poll reinforces the idea that Dems need some new blood; more to the point, they need someone to emerge as a viable alternative to Hillary, if for no other reason than to whip her into shape by forcing her to win a tough primary campaign.

Colbert vs. Bush

Check this out: Steven Colbert speaking at the White House Correspondents dinner a few days ago. Colbert skewers Bush, despite the fact that they're just a few feet away from each other. It's long (over 20 minutes!) and not all great, but there's a lot of really sharp material here.

"There are those who would say the glass is half empty... but 32 percent [Bush's approval rating] means it's actually 2/3 empty."

MSNBC sticks it to the man

While I was home for lunch just now, I managed to catch some of an MSNBC special about the gas crisis (with the curious title "Stick it to The Man"), and it actually brought up a couple of clever ideas.

Check out www.fuelbank.com. This site allows you to pre-pay gas online and—get this—allows you to lock in as many gallons as you want at the current gas price, no matter when you purchase the gas at the pump. In other words, if you pay $2.80 a gallon now, you can collect that gas from the pump at that price years from now, even if gas prices have gone up considerably. MSNBC spoke to a man who was paying $0.98 a gallon today, because that was the price he locked in years ago. Even better, if the price goes down before you use the gas you've purchased, Fuelbank will refund the difference. (Begs the question of how they make money on any of this, but I'll let their accountants worry about that.)

The program also highlighted a man who recently decided he can kill two birds with one stone by quitting the gym and biking 12 miles to work every day. Obviously this isn't a viable option for everyone, but it does point out how illogical it is to pay an arm and a leg to get to work and back, then hit the gym after work and run in place for an hour. (Reminds me of Lewis Black's observation that he can't understand how in New York, a city with millions of stairs, people will pay almost $100 a month to use a Stairmaster and then refuse to live in a walkup apartment.)

taking back the Northeast

Interesting article by Raymond Hernandez in today's N.Y. Times about how Dems hope to take back the House by focusing on Congressional districts in the relatively liberal Northeast.

In eight of the 12 districts being targeted, Kerry received more votes than Bush in the 2004 Presidential election. With Bush looking much more vulnerable now than he did a couple of years ago, and with the President polling far worse throughout states like New York and Connecticut than elsewhere in the country, Democrats hope to gain ground by tying local Republican leaders with Bush.

Is it possible that Dems have actually hit on a strategy that could work?

Maybe. The challenge will be unseating long-standing House incumbents—never an easy task, because in local races name recognition (going back decades, in some cases) is often a more powerful motivator than party affiliation. Incumbents almost never lose in the House.

Another challenge is financial. Incumbents have access to more money. The Times cites the Connecticut 5th as a district where the incumbent has $2.5 million, more than three times as much as her challenger. Both candidates are receiving support from the national party leaders.

More bad news: Democrats are down 15 seats in the House, so even if this strategy is successful (like, if they can grab 8 of the 12 seats the Times mentions), there'll still be a long way to go.

Even so, it does create some hope for this fall's midterm elections.

Frist responds to Home/spuN, drops rebate plan

In light of scathing criticism posted yesterday in this space, Senator Bill Frist dropped his proposed tax rebate plan, which was created to ease concerns about rising gas prices. (Technically, Frist postponed the plan, saying it would be brought up again "later this year," but that's sort of the equivalent of a struggling restaurant posting a sign that it's "closed for renovations." Don't expect to eat there again anytime soon.)

Interestingly enough, much of the criticism of Frist's plan—and certainly, the criticism that led to the plan's collapse—came from business leaders, not Democrats. Apparently Big Business (aka The Man) is concerned about the bill because it would be paid for by an accounting change that would draw more tax money from oil companies as well as any other company that keeps a large inventory. Naturally, this drew a huge backlash from a wide spectrum of business leaders, rousing our president, who is always an advocate for the fair treatment of our corporate interests. (Bush threatened to veto the bill, apparently between rounds of Madden 06.)

What's interesting here is that, in a way, this only makes Michael Kinsley's proposal in Slate (highlighted here yesterday) seem even more logical and agreeable, because Kinsley's new proposed tax would only effect oil companies, avoiding the greatest rallying cry against Frist's proposal (which is that it would unfairly impact a wide range of businesses).

Of course, it would have been nice if Frist's proposal fell apart not because it offended business interests, but because, you know, giving Americans $100 each won't exactly solve our fuel crisis. But hey, us Democrats have to take our victories where we can get them.

fill 'er up

Remember that lack of policy creativity that I was faulting our leaders for this morning? Slate's Michael Kinsley has a novel idea: one that not only makes a lot of sense, but could also go a loooooong way to solving some of our gas pump problems.

His idea is, basically, to tax the oil companies on all the additional profit they've made because of turbulence in the Middle East. I'll let him explain:

A year ago, that price was about $46 a barrel. Now it's more than $70 a barrel... Let's round off a bit and say that American oil extractors are getting an extra $25 a barrel. For 150 million barrels a month, that's $45 billion a year. And that's just for the oil that's extracted.

Kinsley would have the government collect that $45 billion a year in taxes going forward, and put that money toward the war, which is a nice enough idea. But it could be spent in any number of ways. Hey Republicans! Just think: if spending $10 billion to give Americans $100 each will solve our fuel crisis, how much more solving can we do with $450 checks?

The sad thing is, that's probably exactly how Frist, Bush, etc. would look at it. (Though, you know, a $450 check from an oil company wouldn't be the worst thing...)

True, oil companies would react to such a law by lowering prices to the pre-tax level, so let's not spend that money just yet. But I don't think too many people would be upset about that outcome.

Congress springs into action

With gas costs rising across the country right and the summer travel season approaching—not to mention the everyday pinch on commuters—pressure is mounting on our leaders to take action.

Say what you will about the current administration, but one thing they know about is the oil industry. Sure, certain aspects of running the country haven't always been easy for Bush & Co.—foreign policy and domestic policy come to mind in particular as problem areas. But this gasoline crisis is an area where they can draw on experience and show some of that decisive leadership we keep hearing about.

So what have they come up with? Perhaps a concrete plan and increased commitment to developing alternative fuels? Maybe new regulations on gas companies to limit price gouging and automobile manufacturers to improve gas milage?

Nope. Our executive branch isn't doing much of anything, actually. But our Senate Republican leaders, in all their wisdom, have sprung into action with a novel idea. Another tax rebate check, $100 mailed in advance of the November midterm elections, naturally.

For me, this is like found money. I live in New York City, walk to work and don't even own a car. But for the millions of Americans who do own cars, and especially those who commute, what kind of impact will $100 have? A few weekends ago I rented a car for a roadtrip to Montreal, and two fillups of non-premium gas in a freakin' Hyundai cost close to $100. So basically, Bill Frist and his buddies are saying, "We have no idea how to fix this, but here's a couple of week's worth of free gas!"

Except of course, it's not free; it's money—roughly $10 billion—the government could have put to use finding a real solution.

Either I'm on the wrong side of the argument somehow, or this is an especially ridiculous proposal, because for once, even many conservatives agree with me.

The N.Y. Times quotes Rush Limbaugh's reaction to the proposal:

"What kind of insult is this?" Rush Limbaugh asked on his radio program on Friday. "Instead of buying us off and treating us like we're a bunch of whores, just solve the problem."

The same article points out that Brit Hume recently called the idea "silly" on Fox News.

Never a group to sit idly by and watch a potential controversy unfold without comment, the Democrats have prepared their response!!!

Democrats still want credit for being the first to think of putting money back in taxpayers' pockets... A few days before the Republicans went public with their plan, Senator Debbie Stabenow, Democrat of Michigan, proposed a $500 rebate plan.

The Democrat response is to give out even more money?! No wonder we're stuck with the leaders we're stuck with.

In the meantime, I'll be taking things into my own hands. When my check arrives I've come up with a plan to give myself a Personal Alcohol Stipend, to invest in going to a bar and getting obliterated in an effort to alleviate tension about governmental incompetence. Hey, easier to deal with it that way than actually facing the problem, right Senator Frist?

how can it NOT be Friday yet?

Here's how.

Days go in cycles. We humans call these cycles weeks. Weeks make up months, then years. Each has a cycle. I could do the research to find out the origin of these cycles, but I won't; you'll have to trust me that this is so, and has been the case for a long, long time. Again, I could try to figure out how long, but frankly, I don't feel like it.

Getting back to the original question, a Friday doesn't come around until a fixed period of time has passed since the previous Friday showed its ugly face. In fact, this period of time is the definition of a (1) "week," a term already used above. The last appearance of a Friday was six days ago. Therefore tomorrow, on the seventh day after the previous Friday, it will again be Friday. Today is actually a Thursday, because it is the seventh day after the previous Thursday. Thursday comes before Friday every week.

I know this may sound complicated, and my knowledge may seem impressive (it generally does), but in fact, there are many who are "in the know" with regards to calendar sciences. With just a little bit of studying, I promise you too can quickly become wise to this expanding field.

travel on the cheap

It's that time of year: the weather warms up, spring fever takes hold and the desire to get the hell out of town is, like cherry blossoms and Nirvana songs, in bloom. Then you remember that your sorry ass is still broke, having spent all your hard-earned(?) money on the new X-Box 360 or someshit.

Good news—our homies at The New York Times are here to help. Check out this guide to traveling in Europe on a tight budget. It takes a separate look at a dozen-or-so cities, but be warned: The Times' idea of a budget may not be the same as yours, and no matter how you slice it up, the dollar is in the toilet and Europe ain't cheap, kids.

and they say games are too long today?

All you baseball history junkies should check out this story by Dave Sheinin that appeared in the Washington Post the other day.

It marks the 25th anniversary of the longest recorded baseball game, a 33-inning, eight-and-a-half-hour minor league marathon between the Red Sox and Orioles AAA affiliates. Among the participants were future Hall of Famers Cal Ripken Jr. and Wade Boggs (the article notes that Boggs was 22 when the game began and 23 when it finished; the game was called at 4 am and resumed several months later), and noteworthy names like Rich Gedman, Marty Barrett, Bobby Ojeda and Bruce Hurst.

ah, Florida

Every once in a while a true-life story comes along that sounds like a bad joke your uncle would tell you over Thanksgiving dinner. This is one of those moments.

Read this. Just read the link, my description couldn't do the story justice.

The guy is 76! Was he thinking, "Gee, I could either spend the day watching soaps and maybe picking up some groceries, or..."

Who are the women that fell for this? My first guess was that they were women his own age who might be both concerned about their health and not quite in their right mind. But according to the article, at least two of the women are in their 30s. Yeesh; one wonders what other lines they've fallen for through the years. One might also wonder what their phone numbers are, and whether they have plans on Friday night.

how low can they go?

In the last home game of a season that was so awful that it shocked even the most jaded and cynical basketball observers, the Knicks have hit a new low. The hit 13th, to be exact.

On the nytimes.com sports home page, last night's Knicks game—a loss to the expansion Bobcats—is the 13th story. The Times editors deemed the game less newsworthy than articles about NCAA scholarship requirements and Sidney Crosby of the Pittsburgh Penguins. This in a city where the Knicks are probably the second or third mose revered franchise, after the Yankees and arguably the Mets.

Way to go, Isiah! First you transformed the Knicks from mediocrity to a fascinating mess, and then things got even worse: now the team is completely irrelevant.

as if Phillies fans didn't already have enough reasons to be embarrassed

deadspin.com pointed me toward this story from a recent Sports Illustrated--former Phillies and Marlins catcher Darren Daulton is out of his mind.

Deadspin highlights this great quote, as Daulton reflects on his legal problems since retiring:

“[My ex-wife] blames everything on drugs and drinking. But I don’t take drugs and I’m not a drunk. Nicole just doesn’t understand metaphysics.”

The article also shares this story from 1993, which might be enough to drive anyone crazy:

Crouching behind home plate at [Phillies spring training home] Jack Russell Stadium, he was practically compelled to stare at a Hooter's billboard featuring his estranged wife, Lynne, in dead center field. Lounging languorously in a skimpy tanktop, Lynne—a former Playboy playmate—was the company's poster personality.

In addition to the SI article, you can read this for more, including Daulton's thoughts on interstellar time travel. Enjoy...

how I spent my weekend

We finally held our draft in my other fantasy baseball league, the Buffalo Heads league. This is a long-standing league in the Boston area made up of middle-aged men who live and die for this stuff. (This coming from the person who travels much farther than anyone else to participate.)

It's a 5x5 league with 12 keepers (you can retain players for up to 4 years). This is my third year in the league; I inherited a terrible team, and have improved each year, but still haven't been close to contending. This year I have my best team yet, though I'm not exactly expecting to dominate. Keeper leagues are great, but when only 20-or-so of the top 100 players are available in any given year, rebuilding can take a few years.

Here's my roster, commentary to follow:

C PLoDuca NYM 09
C APierzynski CWS 09
+1B PKonerko CWS 06
CI RZimmerman Was 09
+3B MCabrera Fla 07
2B MLoretta Bos 09
+MI JReyes NYM 06
+SS DJeter NYY 06
+OF ASoriano Was 08
+OF HMatsui NYY 06
OF JGomes TB 09
OF RSanders KC 09
OF NMarkakis Bal 09
UT JThome CWS 09
DH MJacobs Fla 09
+P EGuardado Sea 08
+P SKazmir TB 08
+P JVazquez CWS 07
+P CLee Cle 08
+P BZito Oak 07
+P TGordon Phi 08
P RHalladay Tor 09
P FGarcia CWS 09
P EBedard Bal 09
P DMiceli TB 09
Reserves
C DMirabelli SD 09
1B #JHuber KC 09
3B #AMarte Cle 09
2B RAurilia Cin 09
2B TWomack Cin 09
OF *RBaldelli TB 09
OF JBurnitz Pit 09
OF BWilliams NYY 09
OF EByrnes Ari 09
P #COrvella TB 09
P #RWagner Cin 09
P #RClemens Hou 09
P #AnReyes StL 09
P *CPavano NYY 09
P BBannister NYM 09
P ISnell Pit 09
P JWeaver LAA 09
P #JeWeaver LAA 09
P JDevine Atl 09
P #DMatsuzaka XXX 09

+ retained from previous year
# not on a current Major League roster
* on DL

• My pitching should be very solid, if not dominant. I have a lot of above average starters, and barring injuries, I shouldn't need to have anyone active who would kill my ERA and WHIP. Guardado, Gordon and the Miceli/Orvella tandem should effectively give me three closers, enough to compete in saves.
• I feel like I might be a bat or two short, though I always feel that way. I'm taking some risks on Gomes, Markakis, Zimmerman and Jacobs--they all have upside, but having four of those guys active is a big gamble.
• Probably the biggest mistake I made was taking Baldelli without realizing he's injured. Let's just say that when I drafted Markakis I didn't think he'd be starting for me on opening day.
• Or maybe this was my biggest mistake: I took eight—eight!—players who aren't on a Major League roster. In a league this deep, prospects are part of the game, but I still went overboard. Any time you're drafting players who are under contract in another country this season, you're probably overthinking things.
• In the first three rounds—this is where the All-Star types usually land—I took Halladay, Thome and Loretta. Halladay was a gift with the sixth pick overall; aging Carlos Delgado was chosen immediately before him, allowing me to take a player I wanted and needed instead of settling for someone like Adam Dunn or Pedro.
• I took Clemens in the 7th round. That seems like a decent gamble, especially because my pitching is solid without him.
• I have a stunning four players who will be free agents after this season (Jeter, Reyes, Konerko and Matsui). I need to either finish in the money this year, or get a lot back in trade for these guys at midseason.

How will it all turn out? That's why they play the games...

highlights from a week's worth of entries that I was too busy to actually write

I know, I know, I've been away. There have been things I've been dying to write about, but sometimes the rest of my life gets in the way. Having one day job and looking for another while working on a film and trying to maintain something reasonably close to a social life have kept me away from the keyboard all week, sadly. And now I'll be out of town all weekend, so don't look for new posts until at least Monday.

In the meantime, I thought I'd give a quick rundown on some of what I would have liked to have the chance to write about in more detail this week.

• The health care-for-all law that's apparently about to pass in Massachusetts fascinates me. Sounds great, right? It has its good points, and I admire the creativity behind a law that theoretically seeks to spread responsibility for a single problem among many different groups that factor into the issue. On its face, the law will place new requirements on the working uninsured, companies that don't give it's employees insurance, and insurance companies themselves. But in practice, the responsibility on employers—a fine of about $250 per employee—isn't nearly high enough to make it a financial threat; health coverage runs can be several thousand dollars an employee. Not only that, but this teethless fine may not even be part of the final bill, as Governor Romney has threatened to use his line-item veto to disqualify that part of the law. The net result of that would be a law that a) makes it more financially viable for corporations to NOT offer its employees insurance, and then b) forces those same employees to purchase insurance for themselves, whether they want it or not. Is that progress? Seems to me like it's a transparent attempt for Romney, who has Presidential aspirations (good luck with that) to position himself as a conservative who was elected in the bluest of blue states and is strong on health care.
• Speaking of '08, I'm continuing to warm to the idea of a Hillary candidacy. You vote for a team as much as a single politician, and with a star like Hillary, does anyone doubt that she'd have all the resources that she needs--staff, money and otherwise?
• I usually go home for lunch, which is nice. Today it meant I got to see White House Press Secretary Scott McClellan try to spin Cheney aide Scooter Libby's charge that the President knew about the release of Valerie Plame's identity. McClellan tried to distinguish between "releasing information that's in the public interest" and "leaks," after the press dug up a quote from Bush denouncing leaks. McClellan also argued, bizarrely, that anything released to the public is, by definition, unclassified, because it's released to the public. Even if by every standard of these things it had been, you know, classified. At least I think that's what McClellan was saying.
• Meanwhile in the wacky world of baseball, Billy Wagner smartly began his New York career by refusing to change his theme song, which happens to be "Enter Sandman," a song that's been Mariano Rivera's trademark during his legendary run as the game's elite closer. It's silly enough that Wagner would want to use a song that creates such an obvious comparison in the same media market as Rivera, but why does the team allow that to happen? Worse yet, after blowing a save in the Mets' second game, Wagner said: "Now Mariano can have the song, because he's never blown a save, right?" Slick, Billy. Real slick. Kinda brings new meaning to the phrase "pick on someone your own size." Wagner is like the skinny new kid in school picking on the star defensive lineman. (Or I guess he would be like that, if popularity in New York was equated to weight... or something.)

And with that, I now return to neglecting you, my Home/spuN readers, for another few days. Have a great weekend.

hope springs eternal

I thought I'd recognize the beginning of the baseball season today by posting one of my two fantasy baseball rosters. (I'd joke that this is due to popular demand, but even as a joke that's too much of a stretch.)

This is my Zackattack team in the Cheap Seats League, a brand new keeper league; we held our initial draft a few weeks ago, and man, was that excitement. Some details: it's a rottisserie league with 40-man rosters, an add/drop waiver wire, and seven major league and three non-major league keepers each year. It's 7x7, with W, CG, SO, ERA, WHIP, SV, HO (yup, holds), AVG, OPS, R, HR, RBI, SO and SB. We also have a weird rule where you get three active utility players that can be either hitters or pitchers. In other words, one team can have as many as three more pitchers or hitters active than another team at any time. (It's going to be interesting to see how this plays out; my guess is it creates more parity by letting each team compensate for weak areas.)

Here's my roster:

C MPiazza
1B PKonerko
2B ASoriano
3B ARamirez
SS OCabrera
CI HBlalock
MI OVizquel
OF JDamon
OF CFloyd
OF JEdmonds
OF ARowand
UT JGathright
UT RSanders

Reserved Hitters
C/OF JWillingham
1B FThomas
3B #IStewart
SS #JGuzman
OF JDye
OF MAlou
OF CPatterson

Active Pitchers
SP JSantana
SP MBuehrle
SP APettitte
SP ZDuke
RP CCordero
RP EGagne
RP CRay
P JPutz
P JPatterson
P EBedard
P JLieber
UT ASisco

Reserved Pitchers
OdPerez
#JeWeaver
#CHamels
#DMatsuzaka
#CHansen
#JDevine
DRiske
#RWagner

I think I'm in good shape. I love my pitching--I shouldn't speak too soon, but I don't know if I've ever had this many promising and/or reliable starters on one team (as if any pitchers are really reliable)--and my hitting seems to have a good mix of speed and power. I have a nice group of non-major leaguers (designated above by #), and a blend of reliable veterans and high-upside candidates, without too many real longshots. I'd love a better middle infielder, my depth isn't great in some areas, and holds might be a tough category, but I'm pretty happy with this team and ready to get the season going...

more on Axl

My post yesterday about Guns N'Roses drew responses from several of my friends sharing a story about how a friend's brother apparently accosted Axl Rose at a New York City Allman Brothers show last month. You can read detailed blogging about the Beacon Theater incident (not to be confused with The Spaghetti Incident) here and a more newsy version from what appears to be a GNR fan site here.

An excerpt from the blog entry:

Who strolls out of the Beacon but Axl fuckin Rose!
So I say to Joe, "Holy Shit, it's Axl fuckin Rose!"

Axl looks over at us and Joe screams right at him: "YOU SUCK AXL, Nobody cares! You suck Axl!!" Young Joseph then starts doing the "yanking motion" and screamin at Axl, "Fuck You, You Suck Axl!" Axl gives us a crazy stare while he hops into his Escalade and drives off.

Oh and if that wasn't classy enough, Joe turns to a stranger and says:
"I should shoot my load in Axl's face and yell Welcome to the Jungle MotherFucka!"

All of which, of course, begs the question: there are still Guns N' Roses fan sites?!

can music bring democracy to China?

Chuck Klosterman reviews the long-awaited forthcoming Guns N' Roses album, Chinese Democracy on spin.com.

Klosterman is such a clever reviewer that this is absolutely a must read, even for non-Guns N' Roses fans. (Of course, that assumes there still are any fans.) Oh, and make sure you read down to the end--hint, hint.

ten years too late?

Apparently trailers for a film version of The Simpsons have started popping up this weekend before screenings of "Ice Age: The Meltdown."

Is it just me, or would this have made a lot more sense ten years ago? Putting this project onscreen in 2007--nearly twenty year's after the show's debut and well past it's peak--feels like a last-ditch effort to draw every cent out of the franchise before putting it to sleep.

But hey, I'll be first on line for tickets.

on tour with the mystics

I'm still covered in confetti. I've seen a lot of rock shows in my time, and I've never seen anything like this.

I was having a crappy day, another working world Friday that wouldn't end no matter how much I tried to will it so. I have my gifts but my control over time is limited, sadly. The work day finally ended and I got home and had the latest in a series of arguments with Singalittle. To be fair, this time it was mostly my fault; all she did to provoke me was ask me to look in on her sick cat tomorrow.

I was in a bad mood, but there was plenty of reason for cheer. After all, I was going to see THE FLAMING LIPS--one of my favorite bands, a band I've followed for years, a band I've never seen live.

Office Mike (I still call him that even though we no longer work together) and his friends were running late so I met them at Webster Hall, an old dance hall that recently started hosting big-time rock shows. I caught the tail end of the opening band, Pink Mountaintops (don't ask), and still no sign of Mike and his new co-workers. I pushed closer, until I was within about 20 feet of the stage. Wayne Coyne, the salt-and-pepper, beaarded singer and guitarist for The Lips, took the stage to help the roadies set up for the show. In fact, the whole band was on stage, setting up their own equipment. Coyne oversaw everything with sharp attention to detail; he cares, man. He piqued the audience's curiousity by flightchecking oddities like a camera tied to the microphone, a childrens' keyboard strapped to distortion pedals, and huge flashlights. Meanwhile, I could see what appeared to be dozens of costumed performers milling around backstage. I saw an alien, Santa, Jesus.

With Coyne's thumbs-up, everyone left the stage at about 8:40. They came back about 10 minutes later--I'm convinced they hit the stage early .Mike still wasn't there; we were guessing they would hit the stage at nine, and by that time, when he showed up with his co-workers, he had already missed the most amazing band introduction I've ever seen, not to mention half of Bohemian (fucking) Rhapsody, of all things.

The band hit the stage and played and instrumental song over a video introduction psyching up the crowd--out of context it's a little hokey, like much of the band's stage tricks. But in the moment it was powerful. The video promised a night to change everyone's life, a show that would change the world, etc. Coyne kept motioning for everyone to cheer, like a basketball player trying to rally the crowd during a close playoff game.

Then all of these things happened: The lights cut out; The Lips fired into "Race For the Prize," the song that hooked me on the band in the first place; a couple of dozen costumed performers hit the stage, dancing and waving flashlights on the outskirts of the stage; a hundred-or-so huge beach ball-like balloons fell from the ceiling; and the theater was flooded with enough confetti to make a ticker tape parade jealous. They also had flashing lights and smoke and soft-core porn on the huge video screen.

They followed up that dramatic opening with "Bohemian Rhapsody," which Coyne introduced as "A song many of you know, and I want you all to sing along and turn this into a big karaoke bar." True to the karaoke theme, the song lyrics were displayed on the video screen and everyone sang along, smiling.

The show was bookended with covers, ending with a spirited version of Black Sabbath's "War Pigs." In the middle, the band ripped through favorites like "Yoshimi," "The Gash," and "She Don't Use Jelly," as well as three new songs, "The Yeah Yeah Yeah Song," "The Wand," and "Free Radical."

In the intro to set closer "Do You Realize??," one of the band's many sad songs wrapped around a pretty, upbeat melody, Coyne thanked the audience for putting up with the band's "uncool" sense of fun, explaining that they do everything they can to try to spread happiness. He said if there are a few fans in the crowd who are going through hard times, by playing along enthusiastically, the rest of the crowd passes along their entusiasm and gives someone who might be down the "best night of their life." Under other circumstances, a statement like that would have provoked a smug chuckle. But the Lips show was so incredibly enthusiastic and, you know, fun, that even the always stone-faced bouncers were caught up in the infectious positive energy. Speaking for myself, I wasn't exactly going through a major life crisis, but my bad mood was long gone by that point of the show.

After the show I walked outside to meet Mike and Co. across the street. I spotted a man wearing a t-shirt I own, a black shirt with GUIDED BY VOICES in white block letters. I motioned and said, "I have that shirt." He gestured at my shirt and said, "No shit"--I forgot, I was wearing my Guided by Voices shirt too. Instead of being embarassed, we both smiled and shrugged. It was that kind of show, that kind of night.

Note about the photos: I found them online here. None of these photos are from the concert I attended.

a huge sigh of relief

If you haven't heard, Jill Carroll was released today. Carroll, a 28-year old freelance journalist who had been held hostage in Iraq for three months. As I've written here in the past, I actually have a distant personal connection with Carroll—she worked at the UMASS student paper with my co-worker Brett, and they knew each other pretty well.

Instead of using this as another opportunity to criticize the war or its management, because I'm in a celebratory mood I’ll take the low road and wonder: what do you say to an acquaintance who was recently released from captivity? I’d think it’s only polite to recognize this somehow, maybe by sending a card. Unfortunately, the local Hallmark store probably doesn’t have a “Released From Captivity in Iraq” section, but if they did, here’s an idea for a card:

“Knock knock!”
“Who’s there?”
“Boo.”
“Boo who?”
“Don’t cry! You were released from captivity in Iraq!”

(I guess that one would go in the “Released From Captivity in Iraq—Humor” sub-category.)

I’m also wondering what her next big family party will be like; there will almost certainly be that one distant relative who, after a few beers, will ask, “Hey, you’re still working for that paper, right? How’s that going?” She would, of course, probably do the right thing and point out that she hasn’t been at that job since she was held captive in Iraq, but if it were me, I’d nod and say, “Well, you know, could be better. Work is work.” On the upside, at least that would be a change of pace from having to have the same conversation about the experience with an acquaintance for the hundredth time, because we all know what that’s like.

quote board

LSU's Glen "Big Baby" Davis:

"Big Baby got to say something: We've still got tapeworms in our bellies. We're still hungry."

First off, I love that he speaks of himself in third person, especially when it involves the best new sports nickname in years. But is there maybe a better way to express your team's desire to do well in the Final Four than by evoking tapeworms? What's next, STD anaologies? (Perhaps: "We were so hot out there that we were pissing fire, like we had a bad case of gonhorrea.")

And here's David Lee of the Knicks, talking about his current team and the team he played for last year, the Final Four-bound University of Florida.

"We play 82 games and they played 35 or something, and they've won more games then us."

Sadly, not only is this not hyperbole, but it's not even close: the Gators have 31 wins this year, the Knicks just 20.

Stay strong, Knicks fans, there's always next year.