You Know My Name [Look Up My Number]

A while back I was having a conversation with The Civee where she claimed that I don’t use a person’s name while speaking to them.  For example, instead of saying “Hey Gustave, these are some kick-ass curly fries,” I’d say “These are some kick-ass curly fries.”  

She’s right–I don’t say people’s names that often while talking to them.  Unless I’m in a crowded room, chances are the person on the other end of the conversation knows I’m talking to them.  But I think there’s a subconscious reason for that too.  A lot of times, I tend to blank on people’s names, especially if they’re a casual acquaintance.   It’s not that I don’t care about the person to whom I’m talking, it’s just of all the things my memory is good at, names usually aren’t one of them.

Last night, I was at a meeting and decided to greet someone using their name.  Except, as I started to say it, I realized that I had their name wrong.  So I ever so gracefully, while in the middle of the first syllable of their [incorrect] name, just covered my mouth and coughed.  And then proceeded with the rest of the conversation, hoping they didn’t notice.

How do I avoid this in the future? Stop using people’s names. Or become one of those guys who calls everyone “Ace,” “Chief” or “Boss.”

Time Is Not Of The Essence, It Is The Essence

If Lost fans were fans of any other show, by this point in the season, we’d be whining about how the show isn’t going anywhere, coming up with nicknames for new characters we hate and would be frustrated with the will-they-won’t-they nature of the show’s relationships.

But we don’t have to do that. Instead, we wait and pine for the network to throw us some scraps or hints of the upcoming season.

And here it is. The Lost Season 5 promo (thanks Dark UFO) (you may not want to watch if you’re not all caught up):

 
(and if you’re unsure about the title of the blog post, it comes from an official Lost video premiered over the summer, available here)

They Say I Need Some Rogaine To Put In My Hair

Earlier this year, I didn’t think that there could ever be a better album cover than the then-released artwork for Weezer’s sixth album.  At the time, I said:

It’s far better for all future albums, CDs, tapes and eight-tracks to be released in brown paper wrapping than to try and compete with Weezer portraying the Village People.

For the most part, I still believe that. But (Weezer lead singer) Rivers Cuomo’s upcoming solo demo album (second in a series of what we at the kingdom hope is hundreds) has an equally great cover:

Two awesome album covers in one year. Not to mention a bunch of new songs.  Weezer fans are a lucky bunch.

The Mets Fan

October 13, 1998
Yankees 9, Indians 5 (ALCS Game 6) 

My senior year of college I roomed with a friend, who shall go by the name of Frank Liscapital.  Frank, because his first name was Frank.  Liscapital wasn’t his real last name, but he was memorialized in our college yearbook because the word “Liscapital” was added via hyphen to his last name because of his insistence that the ‘L’ in his last name was capitalized.

Frank Liscapital was a good guy, with one failing- he was a Mets fan, and just as much an obnixous Mets fan as I was an obnixous Yankees fan.  While the Mets didn’t have much to be excited about in the ’98 season, he was a huge Mike Piazza fan, and we had constant debates over who would have the better career from that point forward, Piazza, or Yankee flash-in-the-pan Shane Spencer.   I can admit it today, but Frank won that debate.  He repeatedly told me that summer and fall that it was “only a matter of time” before the Yankees’ historic season ended.  And in the ALCS, he was close to right.

The Yankees won game one against the Cleveland Indians, but lost games two (at home) and three (in Cleveland), and for a few days, Yankees fans were nervous.  It looked like for the second straight year, the Yankees would fall in the postseason to the Tribe, a team in the midst of a great run of its own.  The Yankees won games four and five in Cleveland, sending it back to the Bronx for the possible clincher on a Tuesday night.

My father called me at school that afternoon to tell me he had tickets (through the Sunday plan) and my stepmother wouldn’t let my brother go to a baseball game on a school night, playoffs or not.  I first called my friend Jon, but he had prior commitments.  I figured that Mets fan or not, Liscapital might enjoy the game, so I asked him and he said he would meet my father and I in the parking lot when his shift at the radio station was over.  

Liscapital and I hopped in the car, and we went with my father to the stadium.  My father and I were decked out in Yankees apparel.  But Liscapital presented a problem.  He was wearing a jacket over a t-shirt.  The jacket was buttoned up all the way, but one versed in such things could clearly tell that the t-shirt was a Mets t-shirt (a Piazza name-and-number shirt).  We didn’t expect it to be much of a problem.  Until we got to the stadium, and a few fans heckled Frank for the half-inch of Mets logo that peeked out from the top of his jacket.

Frank had never been to the stadium, so I showed him around.  We were on the field level, when he started waving to someone down on the field.  He told me that one of the walkie-talkie guys on the field was a coach of some sort at his high school and had talked of working for the Yankees in his free time.  I think I said something like “well, if you know him, you should have called so he could have gotten us on the field.”  Frank laughed it off and we quickly found our seats.

The crowd was crazy that night.  A few of the Cleveland players had made disparaging comments about the Yankees and the Bronx while the series was in Cleveland a few nights earlier, and the Yankees fans weren’t about to let them forget it.  Instead of hanging hand-drawn K’s after a strikeout, fans in the upper deck hung pictures of hand drawn UZIs.  As Indian (and future Yankee) David Justice stepped to the plate, the stadium erupted in chants of “Hal-le-Ber-ry,” his recent ex-wife.

And that pretty much set the tone for the whole night.  Despite giving up five runs in five innings, David Cone pitched a solid game, striking out eight and leaving the game with the Yankees holding a 6-5 lead.  While the crowd was nervous, the Yankees scored three in the bottom of the sixth to give them some insurance.  The Yankees held on until the ninth, when Mariano Rivera sealed up a 9-6 win that sent the Yankees to the World Series.  Dad, Frank and I hung around the stadium, me hoping that I’d get a chance to go to one of the World Series games (I would, but that’s another entry) and Frank probably hoping that his Mets shirt would go unnoticed.

As we left the stadium, we bumped into that guy Frank knew, who actually was some bigwig with stadium security.  The guy told us something to the effect of “Frank, it’s great to see you! You should have given me a call–I could have let you and your friends down on the field before the game.”

Thanks Frank.

Ringo's Got Your Letter; You've Got His Song

Unless you’re the gas, electic or cable company, Beatle Ringo Starr won’t be reading or answering your mail.

As he posted in a recent video on his Web site:

“Nothing will be signed after the 20th of October. If that is the date on the envelope, it’s gonna be tossed…I’m warning you with peace and love I have too much to do. So no more fan mail, thank you, thank you, and no objects to be signed. Nothing. Anyway, peace and love, peace and love.” 

Every story I’ve seen about this gives the impression this is a bad thing because Ringo answering Marge Simpson’s letter inspired her to paint again.  But what everyone is forgetting is that twenty years earlier, as shown in the rockumentary Help!, Ringo faced multiple assassination attempts because he wore a ring he received through the mail.

In his defense, Ringo was one of the Beatles and still tours and records music, so in addition to hand cramps, he’s probably very busy.  If he had this attitude back in the ’60s, he would not have had crazies trying to paint him red and assassinate him.

On a personal level, I think letter writing can be a good thing.  In my youth, I was somewhat lazy when it came to letter writing (which may have translated into being lazy about blog writing as an adult).  Case in point- when I was about 10, I met MAD Magazine publisher William Gaines while at dinner with my mother and ex-stepfather.  Gaines was a friend of theirs and talked to me throughout dinner. As he was leaving, he told me if I wrote him a letter, he’d give me a free lifetime subscription to MAD.  For some reason, I didn’t do it.  Years later, while reading a book about Gaines and MAD, I found out that he read every letter that came into MAD and was known for giving away subscriptions like they were candy.  Stupidest thing I never did.

But if Ringo doesn’t want to answer any more letters, comment on paintings, or wear rings, more power to him. Peace and love Ringo. Peace and love. (Gear, Fab.)

When I Was Your Age…

Back in fourteen-ninety-two, Columbus sailed the ocean blue, and yada yada yada, The Civee and I had the day off.

When I used to work in news, I hated Columbus Day (along with Veterans’ Day and a few others) because banks, government and the post offices were closed, but we had to work.  Most of the times, except for the occasional local celebration, there was nothing else at all going on.  And the one source of an easy news story (the government) wasn’t working, making us dig even harder for something to cover.

Now that I’m on the other side of the equation, I have the day off again.  Growing up, Columbus Day was always the first day off in the school year, and back when I was in school, it was one of the few things in the fall that I looked forward to.  

But things have changed for kids these days.  The Civee and I were out riding our bikes today, and we passed an elementary school, and the kids were getting out of school. On Columbus Day!  

At first I was outraged that kids would have school today. But then, I started thinking…when The Civee and I have kids, it would be nice if there were a day or two when they have school and she and I have the day off.  The kids would already have the whole summer off–so what’s a day or two here and there for mom and dad?  I actually think it’s a great idea–parents need days off apart from their kids.  Adults need days off that kids don’t have.  Do whatever you want with it, just realize that you have the day to yourself, while kids all over are stuck in school.

If it works out this way when our kids are in school, knowing me, I’d rub it in their face.  The little brats deserve it.

They Don't Write 'Em Like That Anymore

Back in the day before music was purchased online or on small shiny plastic discs, One of the first audio tapes, most people got their music in the form of large wax/vinyl discs or on cassette tapes. The first tape I could ever call my own (because no one else in my family wanted anything to do with it) was “Weird Al” Yankovic in 3-D.

I would play the tape over and over again on my small tape player/recorder, ensuring that “in 3-D” was not to be the last Yankovic recording I’d own. I still listen to Weird Al today (his songs come up frequently in my every-MP3-on-my-computer playlist), although I’m not as familiar with his recent few albums.

It wasn’t until reading a recent Wired article the other day though, that I realized Al has been making music for 25 years. From what I’ve heard of his recent stuff, it’s good, but I’d rather listen to King of Suede than White and Nerdy. Sure, the newer stuff is still funny, but the material it’s based on isn’t as good musically as the material from the 80s. I don’t care about the flavor of the week rap song of two years ago, but 80s pop (no matter how cheesy) will always reign supreme.  Part of that could also be because of the diversity of what’s out there to be parodied.  Or, as Al puts it:

“Back in the ’80s, ‘Purple Rain’ would be number one for half a year,” Yankovic says. “You still have Top 40 radio now, but it’s 40 different stations. There aren’t many hits that everybody knows, and there aren’t many real superstars. That makes it more difficult for me.”

The article’s overall hook is that Al is the forefather of YouTube parodies, of which there are many (I’m still barely caught up), which is kind of interesting considering the guy who made his living using other people’s material has given inspiration to a whole new generation of artistic rip-off artists (I mean that with respect).

It is nice to see Al get his due (and to see that I’m not the only one who considers UHF to be a stroke of genius).  Even though he’s been out there for 25 years, he’s still touring and pumping out albums.  Maybe I’ll try listening to the next one with unbiased ears.

The Convert

May 11, 1997
Yankees 3, Royals 2 

One of my best friends in college was a guy named Jon, who was a teammate on the speech team.  Jon was a year younger than me and hailed from the state of Wisconsin.  As much as a Yankee fan as I was/am, Jon is a cheesehead (with the foam wedge to boot).

On the night the Yankees won the ‘96 World Series, the team was at an away tournamet in Long Island.  The team was staying in a seedy hotel in Hempstead (underneath the Fukudaya Sushi bar) and we gathered in one of our rooms to watch game six.  Everyone cheered on the Yankees victory–that is everyone except Jon.

Fast-forward seven months to May 11 ’97.  The defending World Champion Yankees were scheduled to host Kansas City and also hold ‘Ring Day’ ceremonies on a windy Sunday afternoon. My father had tickets as part of the Sunday plan, but for some reason which has been lost to time, neither King Classic nor Pete could attend.  My father offered me our four tickets, and after asking Jon, he, myself and a girl named Gail took the train into the city and then the subway to the stadium.

Like me, Gail was a Yankee fan and had been to the stadium many times before.  But this was Jon’s first time. We got to the stadium an hour or so before the ring ceremony was scheduled to begin and walked around some, showing Jon around. As we walked around, maybe it was because of the sales job that Gail and I did, or maybe because it was because it was Yankee Stadium, but Jon started to develop an appreciation for the team.

We took our seats and watched video after video of the ’96 team, followed by the ring ceremony.  As fun as that was, the game was even better.  The offensive highlight was Bernie Williams hitting a solo shot in the third, helping the Yankees cement their 3-2 victory.  David Wells posted eight-plus strong innings and Mariano Rivera, who was in his first full season as Yankees closer walked one and struck out one to end the game.  As the game progressed, Jon got more and more into cheering for the Yankees- a big change from his demeanor that night seven months prior. 

As we walked back to the subway, the three of us all got a chance to bang on Freddy’s pan.  We headed back to school, two of us longtime Yankees fans with another notch under our belts, and the third, a (at first) reluctant convert to Yankees fandom.