Scary Moment #2

My "Terminator" Story or
My "Werewolves on Wheels" Story

This took place again in South Carolina. My friends and I were on one of our excursions in the woods. About an hour into our little trek, we came across a wide path we hadn’t seen before. We figured we had two options. Go left which would most likely take us home, or head right to the unknown. Of course, I convinced my troop to go right.

We got about a quarter of a mile down the path, when we all stopped at the sound of a distant roar. At this point we thought maybe we should head back. As we debated, the roar got a little bit louder. Ok, now we should really head back. Even I agreed to this. So, we started to head back the way we came. Our pace quickened as the roar closed in on us. Now in a slight jog, I turned around to see a dirt bike bearing down on us. “Run!” I shouted. Of course we couldn’t out run the dirt bike. Glancing back, I could see the man on the bike. At least I saw his figure because he was dressed in all black, from his black boots to his black jumpsuit to his black helmet.

Now we’d all been threatened at some point by supposed land owners to get off their property. Usually, it was with a shotgun or the threat of a gun, but we’d always been able to just runaway. They couldn’t catch us. This guy on the bike had a distinct advantage on us now. We were also nowhere near home. Who knew what this guy would do?

I told the rest of the gang to keep running, and I jumped off the path to the left. I had no idea what would happen but I hoped he’d go after me. I rolled down the slight embankment and into some thorned brush. I glanced up over the embankment. Their stopped in the middle of the path was the mystery man on his bike. His head, encased in the helmet with the visor down, swiveled like a robot. The Terminator sprung to mind. I immediately pictured him raising his gun so the laser sight targeted my forehead. “Please don’t see me,” I prayed. After a minute of holding back the pee, the biker finally rode off. I waited a little longer, and started to make way back up the embankment. Sure enough the roar of the bike filled the air again. I dove back into the thorns, as the biker sped past me. He must not have seen me, because he kept on down the path.

Eventually, I figured the coast had to be clear. I ran back down the path to see what happened to my friends. They had run off into the woods sometime after I had, and hid behind some trees. I don’t know what the guys deal was. I assumed he was simply trying to scare us off. But, what was he scaring us off from? Was there some compound deep in the woods? I’d come across a long fence on one of my previous walks into the woods. I never found out, but then I never really pursued it. That was probably the smart move.

My Worst Halloween Costume

Clearly this is the worst costume I ever had. I don't even know what I'm supposed to be. Even at that time I don't think I know what I'm dressed as. It should be noted that my Mom upped her costume creating skills after this. Maybe, I fought to make my own costume? This is a case of winning the battle but losing the war. Oh, I'm the kid in the middle.

Bits O' Music

I've come to The Magic Numbers party a little late. It was probably the comparisons to Coldplay that made me hesitant. Aren't there enough bands trying to be the next Coldplay, who in turn are trying to be the next U2? Well, after listening to them I can say they aren't the next Coldplay. They are more of a modern update of the Mama's and Papa's. I only say that because they harmonize so well. They definately have that 60's pop feeling of melancholy optimisim. It is sweet and soothing music that rolls along. It will put a smile on your face.

The Magic Numbers-Love is a Game


If you are an artist or artist representative being featured on this blog and want me to take down a song, let me know, and it will be removed from the server immediately.

Scary Moment #1

Leading up to Halloween, I’ve decided to give my top five scary moments. Actually, it might only be four. I’m having trouble coming up with the last one. I’m also going to try to associate them with popular horror films. Yes, a couple of them will a bit of a stretch.

My Scary “Halloween” Moment:

When I lived in South Carolina, there were around five blocks we’d hit for Halloween. The block we actually lived on was the worst candy wise, and the scariest. This meant we’d usually hit our block last.

One year, I got ahead of our group and finished our second block early. I think there was a TV show I wanted to watch, so I was pressing to end early. I started our block and got a quarter of a way through when I realized there was nobody else around. Some houses still had their porch lights on, but most of them were turned off. I assumed our block must have ended early. I adjusted my bald cap that made me look more like a Conehead than an evil scientist and walked up to one of the houses with their lights on. The house next door had their lights off. I noticed in the yard next door they still had their scarecrow sitting in the front porch. I got halfway up the walkway, when the scarecrow stood up and walked toward me. I was fine till he stepped into the light of from the front porch, and I caught the glint of a knife. Maybe it was my toy knife expertise, but I knew that wasn’t a toy knife he had as he came toward me. It also struck me that he was trying to conceal it. If he was going to go through the normal scare tactics, he would make the knife visible. Other than that it’s just a guy with a straw hat coming at me.

Now I kind of have a rule when it comes to situations like this. Yes, it’s bit odd that I’ve even had enough fights to have a rule. My rule is to let them show their move first. That way you’ll know how to handle the situation. Also, never turn your back on your attacker. Perhaps I watched to many ninja movies. Living by that rule at that moment, I stood my ground waiting for my would be attacker to finally reveal the knife he was trying to hide. It’s funny what flashes through your mind. Having had my left kidney removed when I was a tyke, I was actually glad he was holding the knife in his right hand. His initial strike couldn’t hit my right side with my one good kidney. Maybe, it’s not that funny. I also mentally weighed the candy bag in my right hand. It was about 3 maybe four pounds of mostly hard candy. I had a habit of turning down the chocolates and softer candies. Perhaps I could daze him enough with a hard swing to get away.

By this time the scarecrow was nearly to me when he finally raised the knife. He swung the knife toward my head, and I shifted to the right. I remember glancing to my left at the knife, and chuckling in relief. It was just a butter knife. The scarecrow then raised the knife about an inch from my face, and waved it back and forth. At this point my fear was released in my laughing. “Why aren’t you scared?” the scarecrow asked. I wasn’t about to tell him I was shitting bricks 30 seconds ago. “It’s a butter knife.” I said after another chuckle. Then the scarecrow flashed the knife again and scooted off into the night. I just went home after that, and took stock of my candy.

Ramblings

As most of you know the World Series begins this weekend. Most “experts” seem to be picking the White Sox to win it. I honestly don’t know how you can pick between them. I think they split on starting pitchers. Yes, Backe is a question mark, but it seems he’s always done well in the post-season. Houston doesn’t really have a DH, but they win in the bullpen comparison. That’s where I think this game will be won. Only in Game 2 did the White Sox have to scratch out runs against the Angels. That will be different against the Astros. Astros in 6. Honestly, I just want the season to be over. I want the trades and deals to start happening. Though they really won’t begin till January. I predict indecision will once again leave the Cubs sitting on their hands till it’s too late.

I can be a real asshole at times. The most current proof of this is the new PA we’ve hired. He’s been here a little while, and is really a nice guy. Still, he drives me up the damn wall. First of all, he’s a dancer. Popping is his speciality. He dances under the name Astroglide. He’s actually wearing his Astroglide T-shirt today. Really, I wish I was making this up. I’ve actually been challenged to a dance off. I politely declined. It’s like he’s from the movie “Warriors.” Like Baseball Furies and their baseball bats, his gang is all about dancing! Half of those “gang members” in the movie, my niece could beat up. This isn’t even the main problem I have with him. He simply tries too hard. This is one of my pet peeves. It’s not the effort which is commendable, but the manner in which it is done. I’m giving him a little leeway simply because he’s just a kid, but my eyes are tired from rolling. I will say he’s Quick Draw McGraw on the phones.

Yes, I feel old because I just called a recent college grad a “kid.”

Do you like zombie movies? Do you also like 1950’s sci-fi? Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be a zombie? If your answer is yes, then do I have a game for you. I picked up Stubbs the Zombie in "Rebel without a Pulse" for the Xbox. You are Stubbs the zombie. You come back to life in a futuristic city (albeit a 1950’s view of the future) called Punchbowl. You set out and take over the city. Your skills though are more than just eating brains. That is though how you replenish your health and build your zombie horde. You can remove an internal organ and use it as a grenade. You can detach your hand and use it to take control of those still living. When surrounded you can expel noxious gas from you know where to stun your enemies. Once stunned they become a smorgasbord of brains. You can also bowl your head toward enemies, and then detonate your head. Let’s also not forget your army of zombies. They aren’t the smartest of armies, but come one their dead. They can make a nice distraction, once you shove them in the right direction. I still haven’t gotten tired of whistling to get their attention. Their constant moaning for “BRAINS!” doesn’t get old either. The game really doesn’t pick up till after the first chapter because that’s when you finally learn all of your skills. But from then on it’s a funny and addictive game. Yes it’s basically a walking around and eating people game, but just when you think you’re about to get tired of it they throw something new at you. Two other points: Maybe I was tired, but I found myself laughing at a mini-game at the end of the first chapter. Out of nowhere you are challenged by the police chief to a dance off. It’s basically a game of Simon, but the dance animations and the music had me almost “Whooing.” Almost. Which brings me to my last point: I give this game credit for doing something out of the norm for their soundtrack. Usually games slap on some monotonous soundtrack or a bunch of tracks aimed to sell records. Stubbs does something a little different. They collected a bunch of current indie artists to do covers of 50’s songs. Not all of it is great, but it fits the game well, and will bring a smile to your face. Below is the track listing. It may be the first time I’ve been tempted to buy a game’s soundtrack.

Ben Kweller - Lollipop
The Raveonettes - My Boyfriend's Back
Death Cab for Cutie - Earth Angel
Rose Hill Drive - Shakin' All Over
Cake - Strangers in the Night
The Walkmen - There Goes My Baby
Rogue Wave - Everyday
The Dandy Warhols - All I Have to Do Is Dream
Oranger - Mr. Sandman
The Flaming Lips - If I Only Had a Brain
Clem Snide - Tears on My Pillow
Milton Mapes - Lonesome Town
Phantom Planet - The Living Dead (original song)

Also, I think Stubbs looks a lot like me. Only he’s less green and a little fatter. You know now that I look at it, Stubbs and I are nearly identical.

I still have no idea about a Halloween costume yet.

For you Lost fans out there, that rumor going around about who the next person will be to die is true. I got confirmation this morning from a very reliable source.

I was recently thinking of albums for the year end top 10 list. I only came up with four. It’s October and I only have four! I hope the holiday season turns out some great stuff.

No matter how much people try to prove it to me, Dane Cook is not funny.

I’ve outlined an idea for romantic comedy….Ha Ha! Whoo! I slay me.

Have a good weekend!

Bits O Music

Sorry there's no Rambling right now. I'm working on it. I was up late watching "The Warriors." To tide you over till about 5pm today, I offer you a catchy little song from the early days of Sloan. I like this song for two reasons, handclaps and the Chicago style horns. Though I'm glad the little trumpet solo is short.

Sloan-Everything You've Done Wrong-One Chord to Another

If you are an artist or artist representative being featured on this blog and want me to take down a song, let me know, and it will be removed from the server immediately.

Whir Whir Chuka Chuka Bomp Bomp Psst

You know when you’re just going through your day, and suddenly a song you completely forgot starts running through your head. There’s no rhyme or reason. The song just sprouts up out of nowhere. Then you get distracted by trying to find that song. Of course you find the album it’s from and find more songs you forgot. By the time it’s all over you’ve just wasted half the day. Obviously this happened to me yesterday. I was just minding my own business when this song popped into my head. The odd thing is it’s a children’s song. For those old enough you might remember it. You also though most likely had to grow up in a Christian home. The song comes from a 1977 album called The Music Machine. It was about the fruit of the spirits. See, the kids would put something in the music machine and a song would come out. It was my second favorite album when I was in 2nd and 3rd grade. What made the album even greater was the album art and the booklet that came with the LP. I would sit an listen to the album while reading along and just taking in the pictures.











You can imagine my disappointment when searching for the CD I came across this cover. How disappointing.












I said this was my second favorite album. The same group put out another album called Sir Oliver’s Song. It had the same artwork, but even catchier songs. This album covered the 10 Commandments. It also had an emphasis on the different countries of the world. Nearly every song was sung by a kid supposedly from a different country. My two favorites were “Kalepo” and “Tell the Truth.” I’m sure “Tell the Truth” explains my love of old school R&B. Then the whole move to South Carolina and attend Bob Jones thing happened. We couldn’t listen to that anymore, particularly the up tempo Sir Oliver’s Song.

On one of the whims I get every now and then, I actually bought the albums even with the crappy album art. Someday I’ll be able to afford the original vinyl. I don’t know the reason of the post other than I hope you were able to experience these albums in your youth. It’s also funny how your brain will just regurgitate these things from your youth.

I apologize that I was only able to post clips of these songs. When I finally get the albums, perhaps I'll post a couple of them.

The Enemy of My Enemy...

You know that guy or gal you kind of knew. He/she was a friend of a friend, so you would run into him every now and then at parties. You never had a long conversation because he always came across as an ass. Maybe he would hit on the girl you had your eye on, or he really disliked that movie you love. Over time he becomes a sort of rival. You begin to even maybe really dislike the guy. Then you out of nowhere you find out something about him that changes your mind. He has something in common with you or has a shared experience that causes you to rethink your opinion of him. Maybe he’s not that bad. Actually he seems to be a pretty good guy. This happened to me Monday night while I watched Game 5 of the Astros against the Cardinals.

Being a Cubs fan, I’ve had my share of pain. The 1984 and 2003 NLCS being two prime examples. So when Eckstein hit that 2 outs, 2 strikes squibber past 3rd, my heart sank. I have seen this before. The crowd that hadn’t stopped cheering or sitting since Berkman’s HR in the 7th suddenly didn’t sound so confident. I knew what every Astro fan was feeling at that moment. Then Lidge lost his command and walked Edmonds. Yeah, I definitely knew this feeling. I held my breath when I saw Pujols stroll to the plate. I cringed when I saw Fox put up the Pujols graphic showing he’d never hit a HR off Lidge. That was always a bad sign. I almost couldn’t watch. “Don’t let this happen. Don’t let this happen.” I thought. Lidge threw a nasty slider and Pujols missed and missed badly. A small exhale. Then Lidge hung the slider. The crowd went eerily silent as they saw the ball fly off the bat. Lidge went into the fetal position, as ball cleared nearly everything in Houston. At least it would have if the roof weren’t closed.

My heart sank. Not for the Astros, but for the fans. It sucks being that close and having your heart ripped out. This has happened to them before, but not in a fashion like this. Cub’s fans knew this pain and Red Sox fans knew this pain. I couldn’t even watch Sportscenter knowing they would show that HR again. I couldn’t watch the soulless Cardinals show no emotion again. In one moment I saw myself in Astro fans. In one moment I didn’t dislike the Astros. I found myself hoping they would pick themselves up and perform their own comeback in the bottom of the 9th. It never happened.

Now the Astros have to go back to St. Louis and win one game. They have two chances. Pick yourselves up. Don’t be the Red Sox of 1986, the Cubs of 2003, or the Angels of 1986. End your drought. I hope you do…this season. Next season your back on the enemy list.

F@#K! F@#K! F@#K!

I woke up a little early this rainy morning to make sure I got into work on time. Cigarette in one hand, Pepsi in the other I strolled across the street to my primo parking space. At that moment I even thought "I can't believe I got such a great parking space on a Monday night!" My happy changed to sad when my key wouldn't fit into door lock. I had just paid nearly $400 to get it fixed. They had to ship stuff in from Japan. I was even more dismayed when I was able to open my door. Sure enough my CD player was gone. They tossed my whole car and even took the spare tire. That's what I get for saying something nice about my neighborhood. I'm not saying nice about anything anymore: neighborhood, Cubs, or parking space, nothing. The worst part is I'm now stuck sitting in LA traffic with no music or XM. I can't get a new stereo till I get the car doors fixed, and it''s not like I have time to get that done.

Top 5 Songs I Feel Guilty for Enjoying as Much as I Do

1. Waterloo-Abba
2. Close to You-The Carpenters: Really I just love the Carpenters.
3. I Will Survive-Gloria Gaynor
4. Hells Bells-AC/DC: Highway to Hell fits in here too.
5. Build Me Up Buttercup-The Foundations

A Link Suggestion

I meant to put this in today's Ramblings but I forgot. See, I'm going senile. Anway, I just wanted to suggest taking a look at a friend's blog. CBS has asked one of our Executive Story Editors to write a blog about the show. Corey Miller has been pegged, and has been doing a great job at giving you an insight into the TV making business. I highly recommend it. But, please, please, don't email him with story ideas.

The Waiting is the Hardest Part

Hitting all my favorite links and blogs this morning, I came across this from summerskiss.com. All I have to say is that it's about time that someone got on the ball and put together an Afghan Whigs anthology. I couldn't be happier that Rhino is actually doing it. The genius move on their part is the DVD. Most Afghan Whigs fans have everything they released. So why would we want an anthology? If this DVD is footage from concerts, then fans won't hesitate. To really make the DVD perfect, Rhino should also include the MTV 120 minutes episodes where they took over the show particularly the 1993 show with Donal Logue. That show was genius. I wish I had Tivo back then. I also hope they do a nice remaster, and please don't leave out stuff from the Congregation album. A nice bonus would also be some songs from Up In It, and Big Top Halloween. I would go on, but I realize I'm in the minority on this.

Ramblings

So, I went to the Queen Mary’s Shipwreck Halloween Terrorfest. Including the ticket and parking it cost a whopping $40 bucks. Now I thought that the high price would eliminate some of the riff raff. I was wrong. This meant I had to be searched before entering. There’s nothing like being felt up in public. What’s even better is when I had to go back through the line because cameras weren’t allowed. Now they apparently had a shortage of the metal detector wands. I was lucky enough to get a guy with a wand the first time. Second time, I wasn’t so lucky. I didn’t realize my predicament till I was stuck in the middle of the line. Certain there was some protocol in which I couldn’t request a wand, I just took my groping and moved on.

Inside, there were seven mazes to walk through. We just went through the two mazes that were actually on the Queen Mary. That was plenty. I give them credit for grandness and effort, but they were still just standard haunted houses. This being the Queen Mary I expected them to do something a little original particularly for the mazes on the Queen Mary itself. Just once I’d like to see someone go the creepy route rather than the jump behind a corner route. They have a supposedly authentic haunted ship. Why not play off that with a little movie magic, and really creep people out rather than just “Boo!”

I also don’t know the proper reaction I’m supposed to have. My night vision is crap, so I couldn’t really see anything. But is it rude to not act scared? They are technically paid performers. It’s not their fault if I can’t see them enough to be scared. I feel like it’s not applauding after play. Also, I think I suck at pretending to be scared.

To all those people that have been congratulating me on the White Sox making the World Series: Don’t. Cub fans do not root for the White Sox, and vice versa. If I’m to root for the White Sox, I might as well root for the Cardinals. And that’s never happening. I am impressed with the way the White Sox have been playing. How can you not be when their starting pitchers throw four straight complete games? My question is how does their curse of the Black Sox scandal become easier to overcome than the Cub’s stupid Billy goat curse. The old White Sox threw the World Series. How is not allowing a Billy goat into the park worse than that? Not that curses exist.

I really dislike the word “moist.”

A couple people have asked how well my fantasy baseball team did. I never wrote much about them because there was nothing to write. They did as well as the Cubs did. My worst pick ended up being Cristian Guzman for the Nationals. He was even worse than Kerry wood. My best pick ended up being Traveras of the Astros. I picked him up on the waiver wire right after the draft. The best move I ever made. Actually it was the only good move I ever made.

It is absolutely pouring rain outside right now with actual thunder and lightning. This rarely ever happens in Los Angeles. It’s something I actually miss from living in Ohio. The problem with LA rains other than the usual lack of lightning and thunder, and that it lasts for days on end, is the snails. It’s like tiptoeing through a minefield after it rains. No matter how hard you try though you always end up hearing that crunch.

Is anyone else watching Invasion and enjoying it? It’s not as “cool” or slick as Lost, but I like it. For once the writers seem to actually know ahead of time what they are doing. It gets my best new drama of the season award. My best new comedy obviously goes to Extras. I do love my awkward comedy.

Ramblings

I have 16 days and I’m still stuck on a costume for Halloween. The problem is last year’s costume was so genius that I don’t think I can even come close to matching it. Last year I went as my Friendster profile. It met all of my Halloween costume criteria: minimal dressing up, easy to make, and great conversation piece. I was originally going to go as a giant, and that’s my fall back plan, but it doesn’t have the zing of my Friendster profile. My friend is going as the guys that pass out the strip club flyers on the streets of Vegas. That’s brilliant.

Speaking of Halloween, I’m heading to the Queen Mary Shipwreck Halloween Terrorfest this Saturday. I was rather excited, till I saw that half the event is just a couple clubs. Sigh. I hope the mazes they have set up rule, or I’m asking for my money back. At least I’ll have something else to write about than my youth on Monday.

The playoffs now have three teams (ChiSox, Cards, & Astros) that I really don’t like, and the Angels who I’m indifferent to. Yet, I think they all offer intriguing match-ups that will keep me glued to the TV. I honestly have no idea who will come out on top. I thought the Cards had the upper hand on Houston, but their bullpen is shakier than I originally thought. This might be the beginning of small ball baseball as Gammons wrote about in his column.

Doesn’t Cameron Crowe’s “Elizabethtown” look a lot like “Jerry Maguire?” Hot shot shoe designer/sports agent loses everything and meets a cute blond (Dunst/Zellweger) that helps him put his life in order. Does this mean I won’t see it? Of course not. I’ll still go with the hope of another “Say Anything” and I’ll leave disappointed. Yet I’ll probably still enjoy it once I get past my disappointment.

In case you haven’t seen, Apple’s put out a new iPod that plays video now. You can even download shows from ABC and music videos. No, I did not rush out and buy it. Yes, I was slightly tempted.

For when you’re bored out of your skull. You have to place everything on the cubs in the right order. Each object ends up working with the other objects when done correctly. I offer only one hint: The man goes first.

I like my neighborhood. It’s a little dirty. It has its fair share of homeless. It’s guaranteed that twice a week the cops our out. It does though have its charm. It definitely feels like a neighborhood. The homeless that hang around are regulars. Everything I need is a very short drive away. Roscoe’s is half a mile from my doorstep. I’m three blocks from the beach. I do have one major complaint. There is absolutely no parking, especially on street sweeping nights. It’s getting to the point where I’m losing even more faith in humanity because of the parking situation. People constantly take up two parking spots because they’re too scared to parallel park. For the first time in my life I’m tempted to go to the neighborhood meetings to speak my mind about the parking. All it takes parking permits for those who actually live in the neighborhood. I’d gladly pay a small sum every month if it would mean I didn’t have drive around for an hour to find a parking spot.

I've heard rumors that after Arrested Development is going to be cancelled after the Theron story arc ends. How sad.

I had this conversation with my father:

Dad: You know a student from your old high school is some actress.
Me: Who?
Dad: A girl named Marge I think? She changed her name. She was one of my students.
Me: Is she in anything?
Dad: She's that Lost show.
Me: Maggie Grace?!
Dad: Yeah. That's it. I think.
Me: And how long have you known this?

Joy of a Part-time Southern Boy

This might surprise some of you, but I used to be quite active. Up till my back surgery in high school, I would rarely be caught inside. I'd be outside exploring, playing war, or whatever sport I still had the ball for. I constantly lost various balls particularly my Dad's racquetballs. I’m sorry dad, but it was so cool hitting them with the aluminum bat. The pinnacle of my active lifestyle was the four years I lived in South Carolina. Sure the days were spent behind the iron-gated hell of Bob Jones, but afternoon and evenings I was able to escape to my sanctuary of home.

My brother, father, and I lived in Traveler's Rest a boondocks of a place in the shadow of Paris Mountain. Sure the area matched the southern backwoods cliché, but the freedom and space it gave me to be a kid was wonderful. Living there meant buying grade A fireworks every weekend, riding my bike anywhere I wanted, and playing till we finally relented to my Dad's calls home. It also meant I had the biggest backyard: the woods.

The woods was my acre upon acre of playground. At our entrance to the woods was our home base. My gang of friends and I dug tunnels and built bunkers that served as protection from possible invaders. It also made a nice launching pad for fireworks. We only nearly burned the woods twice. We also nearly burned down our house twice. In the woods we had our satellite bases constructed of fallen trees and abandoned plywood. We would battle the imaginary foes or ourselves depending on the numbers. We played everything from war, to ninja, to zombie, and sometimes the genres would merge. Our arsenal consisted of grenades (dirt clods & M-80's), guns, nunchakus, and rocket launchers (pipes with bottle rockets). It's stupid, but also quite exhilarating to get hit point blank in the chest with a bottle rocket. You proudly display the black mark on your shirt like a badge of honor.

When I wasn't a soldier, I was a BMX rider. I'd ride as fast as I could along the trails that wound along the tree line and creek. Every corner and every jump was hit with the reckless abandon that youth brings. Without hesitation I'd launch myself off ten-foot banks, not caring about my well-being. If I'd flip onto my back still holding the bike I'd try again. When I'd crash headlong into a car I'd dust myself off, patch up my leg, and try again. Why do some people lose that sense of recklessness, yet some have still been able to hold on to it? I miss it sometimes.

On those lazy summer days or quiet weekends, I would become explorer. With no goal or direction in mind, I simply wandered the woods for hours. I'd look for someplace I've never been before, a new tree that's great for climbing, or the perfect thinking spot. Only once did I actually get lost. My brother and I ended up a few miles from home. We came across a farm, and had to take the road back home.

One of my favorite things about living in South Carolina was coming across old abandoned houses hidden from sight by foliage and towering trees. I was even skinnier back then, so there wasn't a single broken out window I couldn't squeeze through. I was like the Eugene Tooms from X-files, only I hate liver and I dressed bette...slightly. I never found anything of value. There was usually a mattress, jugs, and other knickknacks but nothing of real interest. I did though enjoy creating a picture or story of who the tenants were of this abandoned house. I imagine these houses for me are like divers and shipwrecks.

Those four years in South Carolina are a definite ying and yang split for me. Without the woods to release the school day frustrations, I don't know what I would've done. Now, I'm a city boy. I like living in a major league town, knowing there is always something that's going on, and having an Amoeba Records. Still sometimes I get that urge to explore. That's why I have a car.

Futuristic Toys from the Past

Reading PLW’s post yesterday on the Shogun Warrior toys got me thinking about some of my favorite not so well known toys. An easy post would’ve been listing Legos (greatest toy ever), Star Wars, Lincoln Logs, or Erector Sets. Let us delve into the not so popular toys. At least I don’t think they were that popular. Maybe I should just say they are on the fringe of popular.

First let’s go with the Shogun Warrior I had. There were eight in all that were released in the US. I had Mazinga. These bad ass toys were 2 ½ feet tall. He had swords, rockets, and a little ship that would mount into the head so the pilot could control Mazinga. I also had the smaller die-cast toy of Mazinga as well. The coolest feature was definitely the rocket fists that you could fire. Ah the days when toys came with hard plastic projectiles and children’s eyes were of no concern. Truly a great toy, and ranks in my personal top ten toys. Even to this day I still want to call it Manzinga!

That is not the first cellular phone ever made but actually Merlin. What Simon had in color Merlin had in variety. Not only did you have a Simon type game, but it had Tic-Tac-Toe, Blackjack, codebreaker, and 2 others I can’t remember. It was also much more portable than Simon. This was my handheld game of choice back in the days. That is till I picked up Mattel’s Football. God bless you little red LED lights. You made riding to church bearable.

Evel Knievel was a hero of mine growing up. After seeing his specials, I knew I wanted to be a stunt driver. I’d get on my bike and set up my own jumps. Imagine my thrill when I got the Evel Knievel Stunt Cycle. I could now set up my own stunts that even Knievel himself wouldn’t consider. Setting up huge jumps down stairs and off the piano bench, I’d pull the ripcord an off he’d go flying through the air. Sadly, my Evel didn’t last long. My parents lived in a duplex at the time. My room was up in the attic. Man I miss that attic. I had a lone window that looked out onto the street. It was quite a ways down, and I thought it’d make a perfect stunt for the Stunt Cycle. “I bet Evel could reach the street,” I thought. He did make it, but as a toy he paid the ultimate price. Evel would never jump again. The jump was spectacular though. Side note: Other toys that didn’t last very long:


















This Jaws game as it originally was designed wasn’t really that great of a toy. You and your friends just took turn taking the junk out of its mouth without his mouth snapping shut. Rigging it so it would snap an unsuspecting Mom or baby brother certainly extended the joy this toy brought. I completely apologixe for using the phrase "taking the junk out of his mouth."

Starbird ruled! It was a great spaceship toy. If you tilted it up it would make an acceleration sound, and tilting it down would cause it to decelerate. It had removable parts and flashing lasers when you pulled the trigger. Trust me, at the time this was a wonderful toy. Never did get the command center though.

Another cool electronic toy was the BigTrak. It was a programmable tank. You typed in a series of commands on the back, and it would follow them. A wonderful way to torment your pet.










The Micronaughts apparently aren’t that unknown, since they’ve been rereleased recently. It was a great action figure that got lost among the Star Wars and GI Joes. It had more joints than Star Wars. The switchable chest plates and other accessories were an added bonus. Of course I would constantly lose them.

Finally, the Six Million Dollar Man with not only “bionic grip” but a bionic eye you could look through. That’s right you could look through the back of his head and see what Austin sees. That’s pretty much just like real life Lee Majors. My one disappointment with the SMDM was I never got the rocket ship that you could transform into an operating room. Oh well, commence making sound effect…now.

Bits O' Music

It's been awhile since I've posted a bit. With my iPod on shuffle, I came across this song from Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. It's from the Abattoir Blues / The Lyre Of Orpheus double album that was released last year. I know a lot of die hard fans would rather remember Mr. Cave before he found God. I agree his music was consistently better back then. This is still great stuff. I admit I'm a sucker for rock n' roll that includes rolling piano and a gospel-like choir.

Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds-Nature Boy-Abattoir Blues / The Lyre Of Orpheus


If you are an artist or artist representative being featured on this blog and want me to take down a song, let me know, and it will be removed from the server immediately.

Bottle! You Are No Friend of Mine!

I've posted and deleted this about five times already. I don't know why, but it doesn't sit right with me. I told myself I shouldn't edit myself, so here it is.


This topic comes up at every party I’ve been to in the last three plus years. The conversation usually goes like this:

Friend: Can I get you anything?
Me: I’m fine, thanks.
Friend: Beer?
Me: No thank you.
Friend: Smirnoff?
Me: Heh. No.
Friend: There’s some Vodka and-
Me: That’s ok. I don’t drink.
Friend: Never?
Me: I used to, I don't anymore.
Friend: Really? For how long…blah, blah, blah.

I am not an alcoholic, which is what most people think when I say I don't drink anymore. I will drink a glass of wine at special dinners, or a glass of champagne at a toast. I quit because the alcohol would disintegrate that barrier in my brain that keeps you from doing stupid things. Usually, I’m a quiet, good natured and reserved individual. But once I had two or three glasses of the devil’s brew in me…Well it never turns out very good. I will admit that drunk Brad can be entertaining for the first couple hours, after that he’s just an annoying louse. I wasn't an angry drunk. I just wouldn't shut-up, and would sometimes lose my pants. I’m too old to keep making an ass of myself, so I quit. Here are three awkwardly humorous examples. I’m sure there are more, but these are the one I can remember.

Crackers was a bar friends and I would frequent in Downtown Norfolk. We knew the owner, and he’d often give us a few perks for being regulars. Serving my friend Melissa, and current crush, a martini, he mentioned he used his best vodka for her no extra charge. He then made a purple haze for my friend Charlie. I asked him if he used his special vodka for Charlie. He looked at me quizzically and said, “No.” Now, if I was sober I would’ve known you don’t use the best vodka for a mixed drink like the purple haze. I wasn’t sober. In my drunk whisper voice I confronted the owner saying that I knew why he didn’t give Charlie the special vodka. Rather than be the nice guy and brush me off for being drunk, he went ahead and asked me why. “Because she’s got nice tits!” I said. There’s that moment when you’re drunk and you know you said something, but only because of the looks of those around you do you realize what you said wasn’t good. I then got up and puked in my hand before I could reach the bathroom. I’ve been on the owner’s shit list ever since.

One weekend night a bunch of us met at the hole that is Peabody’s. It’s one of those college meat markets where I always felt old. So what did I do? Drink of course. Now I started off behaving well. I had a couple beers and most likely a screwdriver or two. It wasn’t till one of the guys started buying tequila shots for everyone that things went horribly wrong. I’ve said it before. I’ll say it again. Tequila will fuck you up! Stay away from the tequila kids. I’m serious. By the time we left we’d polished off like five shots each, and then washed them down with Jell-O shooters and other beverages. We stopped at IHOP to actually get some solid food into our stomachs. That never happened. After ordering my usual chicken strips, I sprinted to the bathroom and spent about half an hour expelling the booze. I was thinking maybe I should just sleep it off in the restroom, when Bob came in to check up on me. I responded by hurling up the rest of my stomach lining into the toilet. Side note: Bob would later on write a song about puking up blood at IHOP. This is my legacy. Anyway, I finally was able to stand so Bob walked me out of the bathroom. It was at that time we were able to witness Charlie puking into the pitcher of water at the table. We threw some money on the table and just walked out leaving the waitress to clean up. I still can't beleive I became that guy. I ended up being dropped off at my car, where I slept till I was finally able to drive home. I still haven’t recovered from that night.

Finally, it was one of those nights where I intentionally went out to get hammered. I was pissed off at Melissa for some reason, and just wanted to drink my bitterness away. Unfortunately, for me she was driving our group of friends and me around. I remember the first thing I ordered was five shots of bourbon. I can’t remember what else I drank at the bar that night. Once, the bar closed we needed something else to do. I offered up my apartment and the booze I had stored there. We stopped by 7-11 to pick up some more booze. While I waited I decided it’d be fun to try to catch the ducks hanging out in the parking lot. This is the entertaining drunk Brad. Back at my apartment, we followed up our previous booze with some Guinness and other assorted beers. Then my pants came off. Yes, Melissa was still present. I’m still kind of entertaining, but bordering on annoying. About and hour later the beers were gone and so was my joyful buzz. That’s when uber-depressed Brad came out in all his glory. There I was laid flat on the floor in my boxers confessing my undying love for Melissa. Yes, she was still there. I thank Bobby for trying to console me and his attempts to shut me up. I didn’t listen, and it took forever for Melissa to be comfortable around me. The last thing I remember after that was waking up on the couch the next morning with a sloshed brain, and that “too many cigarettes” taste in my mouth.

That’s a small sample of the stupid circumstances I put myself in when I drink. It’s really just the tip of the iceberg, but a blog post can only be so long. Besides, I have enough vices. It doesn't hurt to get rid of one of them. Also, thanks to those who kept me out of serious trouble when I always had too much.

High/Low: High School

I got an invitation this weekend for my 15 year high school reunion. (Yes, I realize that dates me) Against my better judgment, I’ve decided to attend this “What was I thinking?” event. I will admit a small part of me wants to throw around the “I work for CSI: Miami” phrase. I know there is one chemical engineer, and a Nike shoe designer, so there’s a little competition for the coolest job. Besides that I know for certain how this will turn out. Nobody I really want to see will show up. I’ll be stuck hugging people that never liked me in high school. All the questions will be on the subject of how my Dad is doing. At least four people will make drunken fools of themselves. And, I’ll spend the rest of the evening listening to people trying to justify their lives. But I’m not about looking toward the future. I prefer dwelling on the past. Here are the highlights and lowlights of my high school years.

My father being a teacher didn’t really pay off till my Junior and Senior year because that’s when I actually had him as a teacher. It’s nice knowing exactly what the teacher is looking for when he assigns papers. Yes, this meant I wasn’t invited to all the parties my fellow classmen threw. But, having my him as a teacher for 3 electives (Creative Writing, American Novel Class, and World Novel Class) during my Senior year made up for it. HIGH

During Christmas break of my Junior year I had major back surgery. In fact I was administered to the hospital on my birthday. I was out of school for over a month, which kept me out of the loop on all school gossip, activities, and the school play. LOW But, I completely milked it for sympathy as long as I could. The added bonus of my crush at the time dropping by while I was stuck at home made everything bearable. HIGH

In an odd state of mind I volunteered to be a shepherd for the downtown Columbus Christmas Pageant our school’s church put on. It was one of those huge events with Camels, three hundred person choir, thousands of people every weekend night for three weekends, and me trying to walk a sheep along a four foot wide platform over the orchestra pit. Did I mention I was dressed as a shepherd? There was also when the sheep kept trying to eat the manger. But, this wasn’t a low. Thanks to this whole event, I was able to finally realize that you can just talk to the ladies, and they won’t mind. I was actually able to get over my shyness and make a couple friends in the angel choir. HIGH

I took a $50 dollar dare once and proposed to my Freshman English teacher (Miss Dixon) in front of everyone. She politely said no of course, but I did shoot to the top of her favorite students list. HIGH

During another bout of “I should get involved” illness, I agreed to run for Vice President of the student body with my friend Craig running for President. I don’t know why I agreed, or why he even chose me, but we lost. Yes they had to have two recounts and a re-vote because it was so close, but I gave a painful speech. I’m certain I lost the election. Also, when every single teacher voices their support for you and your running mate you know you’re screwed. LOW. Looking back at all the work being Vice President would have entailed, it’s really probably a HIGH.

Puking for hours in the toilet after the Prom, LOW

I threw a Senior party at my Mom’s house. I did the whole banners and flyers thing at school, and only my circle of friends showed up. That wasn’t really the low point. The low point was when my Mom, half-sister and myself were trying to setup the grill on the makeshift patio. My step-father was using the backhoe to raise the grill up to us. Sure enough he hits the patio and sends us down a story onto a pile of bricks below. That’s a perfect way to ruin any party. LOW

Wasting money on a class ring, LOW

I finally got a speaking part in the school play my Senior year. The play was “Flight into Danger.” Yes, it’s what the movie “Airplane!” was based on. Only this play wasn’t a comedy…intentionally. I played the Rex Kramer character. Notice the similarities? Anyway, being a fan of “Airplane!” it drove me nuts that we had to play this so seriously. My lines consisted of “Lower the flap 40 degrees, raise the rear flap 20 degrees” or “Keep it a 24,000 feet.” It stunk. All the semi-funny lines were given to the actors on the plane. On the final night, there was a moment where the lead character’s wife is whining and complaining. Distracted by how annoying she got, I forgot my lines. There’s that long pause while everyone looks at you to say something. I replied, “Will someone please shut that woman up? I picked the wrong week to quit drinking.” The laugh and cheer that followed was the biggest of the whole run. I thought for sure I was in trouble for mentioning the drinking line, but I got nothing but praise. It was my one brief moment in the spotlight, unless you count the shepherd thing. HIGH
















For one semester I was the assistant to our History teacher, Mrs. Baeslack. I earned credit to sit in her office for one period and grade papers. Genius! Mrs. Baeslack was certifiably crazy. She could change from happy to sad to angry to laughing in a second. She did though look to me as a project. Rather than grade papers she actually tried to hook me up with some of the Junior ladies that were in the class. Like I said, she was crazy. HIGH

Finally graduating and getting the hell out of there was definitely the biggest HIGH.








Do I hope to capture some part of my youth at the reunion? No. Do I want to brag a little? Probably. Am I looking forward to it? Yes...with reservations.

Ramblings

Sunday night's NLDS game 4 between the Astros and Braves is one fo the greatest games I've ever seen. It had everything and is why baseball is the greatest sport.

I was expecting a phone call or two from family and friends when word of the Long Beach pipe bomb made national news. The phone calls never came. There was a pipe bomb outside my apartment and there isn’t even a side note on the national news? I couldn’t even find anything about in the LA Times. This is Long Beach! How does this not make- Never mind.

How cant he movie “Flightplan” hold the top spot for two weeks, but I’ve yet to meet anyone who’s seen it?

Friday night I attended a party thrown by one of my co-workers. Fun, seven-layer dip, and home brewed beer were had. Near the end of the night, the subject of hugging became a part of the discussion. I’m not a big hugger. This apparently means that I have little less of a soul. It’s not that I won’t hug, but I don’t feel comfortable hugging. I need to have at least known you a couple years for me to even consider instigating the hug. Some people who aren’t huggers point to the fact that they grew up in a non-hugging family. I don’t have that excuse. My family hugs. My stepfamily hugs. I’ve had many friends that hug. I even appreciate the thought behind the hug. If you feel comfortable enough to press your body next to mine and embrace me, then I must be doing something right. During the discussion Friday night, a hugging seminar took place. What came from this seminar? I suck at hugging. This isn’t the first time I’ve been told that I’m hug deficient. Perhaps, that’s why I don’t like hugging. I’m not built to hug. Not only is my personal space quite large, but physically not made for hugging. I’m a beanpole with lanky arms. To hug me properly your arms need to be able double wrap around me. My lanky arms only make hugging more difficult. Unless you wear a size 60, I end up touching my own shoulders. All of this doesn’t exactly make me conducive to hugging. I don’t know if I can ever become a good or even adequate hugger, and for that I now apologize. Though, I still refuse to accept the European double-kiss as a proper farewell even if you really are European. You could lose an eye doing that.

I recently found out that there’s a chance my brother might move to the Chicago area to pursue his MA. Yes, I’m happy for him. Yes, I’m also thinking about the Cubs. Yes, I’m actually a little jealous he might get to live in Chicago.

I was planning on writing how I miss that small window in the 90’s when hip-hop was A Tribe Called Quest, Public Enemy, and De La Soul. Then I remembered the Roots, Blackalicious, Doom, Jurassic 5, and etc. Still what they call hip-hop on the charts today isn’t really hip-hop. 80% of it is just pop music.

I picked up the sequel to Brothers In Arms for the Xbox. In a cramped niche of WWII games it is the best out there. It’s a great squad based first person shooter. The game builds upon the first game that was good and makes this one great. What is good about the first game was the visceral thrills of leading your squad across an open field while mortar shells drop around you. This sequel ratchets it up a notch. From watching German rockets whiz right buy you sending dirt over your head to dodging two tanks as they barrel down on you it’s great high tension moments. They also do a great job of making you actually care about your squad. So when you send your squad in the wrong direction only to see them cut down it actually pains you. Also, the enemy AI can be a real bitch sometimes.

I miss the days in school when friends and I would gather to watch X-files, Homicide, and Buffy. Lost seems perfectly made for such get togethers.

One of those fears

After the pipe bomb incident, I've been asked a few times if I was scared. Maybe it was being naive or my assumption that it was an empty threat, but I wasn't scared. Death, being alone, or the dark, everyone has his or her fears. None of those are my fears. There are few modes of death like drowning that scare me, but death itself isn’t a fear. One of my fears is related to my great grandfather on my Mom’s side. I can’t remember the first I met him or met his wife. I only remember meeting her once when my Uncle flew us down to Florida. She passed away soon after that. I think. It’s all lost in the fuzzy memory of my childhood. Hmm. Memory is actually part of the fear. But back to the back-story. According to my Mom my great grandfather was a mean man who only got worse once his wife died. It then only got worse when he was stricken with Alzheimer’s. My only real memories of him are when he had Alzheimer’s, and he was a mean son of bitch. My brothers and sisters came to dread summer because that’s when he’d end up visiting for a few weeks. Nobody would sit next to him at the dinner table because he’d grab the fork and try to stab your hand. It was like reverse musical chairs. If you came within arm’s reach he’d hit you. If you were a kid he wanted nothing to do with you. To keep him busy my Mom let him trim the trees on the property. I still wonder why they thought giving him anything sharp was a good idea. He was actually good at the pruning if he’d known when to stop. My Mom was stuck with branchless trees. There were also times he’d chase my little sisters with the pruned branches. So what does my fear have to do with my great grandfather?

My fear is that I’ll end up like him. I can be a grumpy bastard sometimes. In fact my Mom would often threaten me when I would become grumpy as a kid. “Watch it, or you’ll end up like great grandfather,” she’d say. I became a bit more cheery once my teen years came to an end, though I still have my occasional grumpy moments. Now my memory is going to the dogs. This makes me actually frightened that I’m actually turning into him. Every time I forget someone’s name, walk into a room and can’t remember why, or forget a story idea I just came up with, I’m struck with a sense of fear that I’m inching closer to embodying my great grandfather. I know I’m not near the bastard he is, but you never know. It isn’t even a fear of forgetting, but of becoming the crazy person nobody wants to associate with. I don’t want to become the joke.

The Smell of Pipe Bomb in the Morning

Since I was up till 3am Monday night, I went to bed with the hopes of regaining some lost sleep. Unfortunately I lost track of time learning Comic Life and didn’t go to bed till 2am. When my head did finally hit the pillow, I was out cold. I was out cold till about 4am. That’s when I heard a loud knocking at my door. I assumed it was a neighbor’s drunk friend looking for the corresponding apartment. Sure enough they started knocking a neighbor’s door. How long was this going to take? When they knocked on my door again, I staggered out of bed set on chewing out an obnoxious drunk. Instead of a drunk, I was greeted by two Long Beach Policemen. The first thing I thought was, “They found me.” Since my sentence at the police state of Virginia Beach, I’ve been programmed to think that way. These police though were here to help.

“There’s a pipe bomb out front and you need to evacuate.” Um, ok I thought. I put on my shoes, hat and watch, and grabbed my iPod nano. I didn’t grab my wallet or eyeglasses, but my iPod nano. My brain doesn’t function well the first 8 hours after I wake up. I wandered out to the corner we were told to wait. There waiting for me were my neighbors. I’ve previously met only a few of them, and really didn’t think they knew each other that well. I was wrong. Among them was the one neighbor I’d wanted to meet: The cute little brunette that lived in the front apartment. As I had guessed, she was a flight attendant. With our fellow neighbors we joked and complained till a policeman said the words I’d end up hearing too many times that night, “It’s gonna take awhile.” He told us the Red Cross was setting up a holding area at a nearby park. We could go there or go somewhere else. We just couldn’t stay here. Of course my car was parked inside the cordoned off area. I was stuck going to the park. At least the cute brunette was as well. The cop also gave us the details of the situation. Someone had left a pipe bomb with a keypad attached in front of the pizza place across the street. Some neighbor called it in. They were now waiting for the bomb squad to show up to handle the situation. I’d like to point out that the phrase “someone left a pipe bomb” was used often that evening. Every time somebody said it I pictured someone misplacing the pipe bomb. The bomber gets on the bus, and after checking his pockets realizes he left the bomb on the bench. Not exactly a frightening image.

My neighbors went and met up with the rest of those evacuated. We sat, and sat, and sat. If I had taken my wallet instead of the iPod I could’ve gotten breakfast. The cute brunette stayed as well so I considered it a wash. Having never really spoken to any of my neighbors, I figured that they didn’t know where I worked. That’s how I wanted it, but when everyone started asking me about CSI: Miami, I realized what a hotbed of rumors my apartment complex was. It took till about seven that the Red Cross showed up. Someone always ended up asking the cops how much longer. They always got “It’s gonna take awhile” as a response. That left us to simply wait some more and some more. At around 9am we heard that there were no explosives in the bomb but an unknown chemical. This meant we now had to wait for HAZMAT to show up. It’s at times like this I wish the world worked like CSI: Miami with all-in-one lab trucks and one minute lab results. At this point people started sneaking back into their apartments. Figuring my luck with authorities I waited. Finally, at around 11am we were allowed to return to our apartments. I then had to wait another hour till I could get my car. So, I’ve been up since 4am and it’s now 10pm. If the PA wasn’t sick, I wouldn’t have gone to work, but it was one of those days. Still I got to know my neighbors better, and there’s also the cute brunette, so it’s still a wash.

Going to a Party (Told With Stikfas)

I'm trying something new this time. I toyed around with the Comic Life program. It's not that funny, but I wanted to try the program. Enjoy.

Random rules of the Iten

Whoever is driving has control of the radio. They get to listen to whatever they want and the passenger can’t change the channel. The passenger can ask to change it, or the driver can offer control. Never assume you as the passenger can change it. You need to have verbal confirmation to change it. i.e. When I’m playing air keyboard during Kansas’ “Point of No Return” don’t reach over and change the station because you find the song cheesy. I’m playing air keyboard here!

Never shake hands with someone who just came from the bathroom.

Use two towels after bathing. One is used for the top half and a second for the bottom. Also, when friends visit put away the bottom half towel.

Unless it’s an emergency never leave a baseball game early.

Never assume the Cubs will win.

Never take a man who wears a seashell necklace seriously

Ditto a man who wears a baseball cap backwards

No matter how well it’s going never kiss a girl on a first date.

Never do more than one shot of tequila

Wait at least half an hour after playing a racing video game before getting behind the wheel of a real car.

Just because you haven’t heard of it doesn’t mean it sucks.

Never buy a comeback album

Only buy fitted baseball hats

Except in absolute emergencies never take a dump at a stranger's house or in a public restroom.

Shorts and sandals are only for the beach or the privacy of your own home. Also, sandals should never be worn in a public bathroom.

Always disinfect your phone after someone uses it

Never touch another person’s laundry

Never ever touch the hat

My American Single for October

If I Ran the Cubs (End of Season Edition)

Once again the Cubs failed to reach expectations. Injuries are probably considered the main reason the Cubs ended up in fourth place. Though last I checked the Cubs were in the middle of the wild card till the injured players came back. But I’m not here to complain about the past. Let’s look to the future: 2006. Next season will be when the Cubs are completely out from under the Sosa contract. What does that mean? That means more spending money during the free agent market. They need it.

The Cubs only have five position players that will be back for certain in 2006. They are set at 3B and 1B with Ramirez and Lee respectively. Both of them ate 30 HR and 100 RBI guys. Barrett has improved each year at catcher. I don’t think he calls the best games, but he’s improved and has some pop in his bat. The other should be lock is Matt “Big Murt” Murton in left field. He’s a kid but has shown good discipline at the plate, and Dusty should have let him play fulltime a in July. I give Hendry credit for basically forcing Dusty’s hand. That leaves the big question mark of center field and Corey Patterson. He might be a five tool player, and he might eventually turn into an All-Star. The Cubs also have Felix Pie sitting in the wings. An ankle injury kept Pie from being called up, so we don’t know if he’s ready. My decision would be to let them fight it out in training camp. Some have suggested trying to sign Johnny Damon in the off-season. It’s not a bad idea, but it’s still wrong. With my plan whoever plays CF will be batting in the bottom of the order anyway. There is also the Cubs’ youngster Ronny Cedeno. He’s shown growth but I’m not completely sure that he’s ready. He came up as a SS, but I think he’d do well at 2b, which means goodbye to Walker. He’s been a great consistent hitter for the Cubs, but we need defense, and that’s Cedeno. So the Cubs really only have two position holes, RF and SS. That’s where some of the money comes in.

SS: Garciaparra is going to come at a discount. He likes Chicago, and wants to stay in Chicago. Still, he has yet to show he can play even half a season. The Cubs need to stop taking chances. I’m sorry Nomar but goodbye. The answer at SS should be Furcal who will be a free agent. He’s younger and faster than Nomar. He’s also what the Cubs have needed since 2003: a leadoff hitter. The Cubs need to stop converting players into leadoff and just sign one.

RF: Burnitz was serviceable, but he still strikes out way too much. The Cubs need contact hitters, and Burnitz loves swinging at high heat way too much. The answer the Cubs is playing in Southern California. Brian Giles is a veteran and just entering the twilight of his career. He’s also tough as nails, and is still a great hitter. His attitude is what the Cubs need. Yes his power numbers are down but have you been to PETCO? It’s twice the size of Wrigley. You have Giles hitting between Lee and Ramirez and you’ll see those number rise. That takes care of the position players and here’s my tentative lineup:

1. Furcal
2. Cedeno
3. Lee
4. Giles
5. Ramirez
6. Murton
7. Patterson/Pie
8. Barrett
9. Pitcher

Finally we come to what had been assumed would be their strength but has been their Achilles heel. The reason is simple. They are still paying for the way Dusty killed them in the 2003 postseason. The Cubs do though have their 1-2 pitchers locked up in Zambrano and Prior. That leaves three more slots to fill. The big question is when and in what condition will Wood return from another surgery. I would not count on him to start. I would plan for him to pitch in relief, that way if he does come back strong as a starter it’s bonus and not an expectation. Maddux hasn’t said if he’ll come back next year. I sure hope he doesn’t. He’s not even close to having his Hall of Fame stuff. I’m guessing he’ll have want come back, and the Cubs will be forced to keep him. The Cubs also have Jerome Williams who is only 23 and had a great string of 8 solidly pitched games at the end of the season. Any team would love to have him as a #4 or #5 pitcher. He could be a good #3, but the Cubs respect for Maddux will keep him at #4. So, the Cubs need a #5 pitcher. This may seem odd, but I say resign Rusch. He had a near 5 ERA but that’s from the Cubs using him in relief. He is not a relief pitcher. He’s not a great starter but he keeps you in games, and he’s left handed. As a #5 pitcher he’s decent and cheap. Now, if Maddux doesn’t want to come back, and again I pray he doesn’t, the Cubs will need to sign a free agent. I’m sure the Cubs will be tempted to go after A.J. Burnett, but I’m going to sign Milwood. Milwood didn’t have the wins, but he did have the lowest ERA in the AL. It also probably won’t take a long term contract to sign him. I know the Cubs don’t trust Rusch, so they will probably still sign a pitcher. I hope they still keep him though because he can pitch decent enough in long relief and as a spot starter. Finally, and it may seem odd to say this but I think the Cubs’ relief pitching will be fine. It wasn’t a great move to sign Dempster to a 3 yr. deal, but he’s been pretty good as a closer. If Wood has to pitch relief then that locks up our 8th and 9th inning. Ohman has been quite good as a the left hander specialist. Novoa has been good as well. That leaves the young kids like Wellemeyer, Van Buren, Hill, and Leicster to fight their way onto the squad.

My plan puts more emphasis on hitting, but the Cubs lacked contact and putting men on base for Lee and Ramirez. The Cubs will most likely sign an above average pitcher which will give them a great chance to win. Again, there will be high hopes for the Cubs next year. Which even if they fail is still a good thing. I still remember when that was a rare feeling for the Cubs’ fan. As for Dusty, the Cubs won’t fire him even though he still doesn’t know how to work a pitching staff, and can’t develop young players. I would like to see someone like Terry Pendelton, but I’m going to have to wait for that. Hopefully the Cubs will play beyond Dusty’s failings. I still have five months to dream though. Here’s to next season.

I'd finally like to apologize to Philly fans. Now you know the pain of watching Dusty stick with Maddux when five year olds know he should pinch hit for him. Again, all apologies.

Ramblings

Including today there are three more days left till the playoffs. The teams have been set except for the Wild Cards and the AL East. Since the White Sox have already clinched, this puts Boston in a bit of the whole as their series with the Yankees means something to both teams, and the White Sox and Cleveland series means something to only the Indians. Commissioner Selig says he believes the White Sox will play their starters against the Indians. It should be that Selig hopes and prays that the White Sox will not take it easy. He knows what having the Red Sox and the Yankees in the playoffs means: bigger revenue and ratings. The last thing Selig wants is for the Indians to beat out the Red Sox for the Wild Card. Well screw him. I'm rooting for the Tribe.

As for the NL Wild Card, I hope the Cubs stick it to the Astros and sweep them. Just once let the Cubs do the right thing this season. Since the Cubs season is over, and has been over, I guess I can whip out this song that I use to close each Cubs season. Of course I could have played this in July.

Whiskeytown-Empty Baseball Park-Faithless Street

Also, I know A-Rod has had a great year, but have you seen a player like Big Papi get big hit after big hit? Where would the Red Sox be without him? They’d barely be over .500 team. That sounds like MVP to me.

How funny would it have been that if the hatch in Lost led to a toilet in China? Ok, maybe it wouldn’t be that funny. It would though be right up there with the St. Elsewhere’s snowglobe ending.

I’ve made it a goal of mine to reconnect with three friends from high school. Thanks to internet magic I don’t think this will be all that difficult. One of my flaws is that it’s not easy for me to keep long distance friendships. I get caught up with where I’m currently and end up losing touch. There have only been three people that I’ve kept in contact with: Bob, Eric and Melissa. These three guys helped me survive the hell that is college. What I know now is Karl works in Wildlife protection, Craig is some kind of genius that has worked at MIT in Mass. Yeah, he was always been the smart one. I don’t know what Aaron is doing. I do know they are all married. We’ll see how it goes. You wonder how much everyone has changed, or if you've changed that much.

I cut my own hair and it shows.

For some reason they still make those Charmin commercials with the animated bears wiping their ass. Am I the only one that is creeped out by these? Who think these help sell toilet paper?

I’m getting tired of people complaining about the state of music. You may want the world to listen to cool music but it’s not going to happen. These days the music at the top of the charts is produced to be there. It’s made for mass consumption. There are exceptions, and different trends but it will never be like it was in the past. Simply be glad that there is music being made that you enjoy, and that with iTunes, satellite radio, and independent music webzines you have many more avenues to find good music than before, and isn’t it worth working a little for?

I’d like to thank those who frequent this blog. As of last night I eclipsed the 1,000 visit mark. Which I thought wouldn’t happen till 2020. So thanks, I hope it’s been slightly entertaining. I'd also like to apologize for the last post. I don't know what my purpose or rational for writing it. These things happen I guess.

If I Was Overconfident

Awhile ago I actually had a girlfriend. It was an odd relationship, because we both admitted early on that it eventually wouldn’t work out for various reasons. For that short time though, we had fun hanging out, going to non-date movies, and ahem other activities. Near the end, she said that “No matter what, we need to still be good friends.” Of course I said “sure.” I’m not a complete ass, and I did have fun hanging out with her. So, we went the friends route. We still went to a couple movies, and went to dinner a few times. Then her contact with me reduced less and less. She never called. If I called, she always cut it short. She no longer IM’d me. Her emails were the same questions no matter what my email was pertaining to. Then there weren’t even the emails. I was lost and bewildered. Was she just using me for my svelte good looks and charm? Were all her compliments simply said to string me along? She seemed so sincere. Sure I wasn’t completely invested in the mini-relationship, but I’m the pro at being distant. Yet she was now schooling me on being distant. Then I realized what her reason was for all this. See she’s scared to even see me. My dark lock of hairs, slender yet masculine build, and semi quick wit causes her knees to buckle and heart to flutter that she feels she must play it safe and have nothing to do with me. It’s completely understandable. She’s not the first to be overcome by the Iten, and certainly won’t be the last. So, I resign to the life as a man that no woman can resist. My life as a stud.

Everything I Know about Sex I Learned While Working at Papa John’s

In a previous post I admitted to working the delivery circuit for Papa John’s. Other than the importance one duck’s life can have, I learned about the pizza biz, where the missing link operates, and what people will do for a two dollar tip. I also learned quite a bit about the sex. I share with you now three lessons I’ve learned.

1. Smoking Weed Can Cause You to Lose Your Inhibitions, and Misplace Things: On a Friday night one of my last deliveries was a few pizzas to this cookie cutter home. After knocking, the door quickly opened releasing a cloud of pungent smoke. As the cloud hovered around me, I noticed the smoke had a familiar odor. Seeing the group of teenagers giggling while trying to hide their bongs confirmed my suspicion. The girl who answered the door giggled a little more as the transaction of money for pizza was made. Counting the money confirmed my second suspicion that there was no tip. Frustrated, I pocketed the money and said “Thanks” in my now perfected sarcastic tone. She then batted her eyes and said, “Aren’t you forgetting something?” I checked the order slip to see if I forgot a 2 liter or extra dipping sauce. I had gotten the order right. “Don’t you want your tip?” she asked, following it up with a louder giggle. Her eyes led me down to her cleavage. Sure enough, sticking out between her breasts was some folded up money. It was one of those, “I’m on Candid Camera” moments. But, since my livelihood relied on tips, it became a real life reenactment of the game Operation. With my steady hand, I went for the money implant being careful not to touch the sides. After the successful retrieval, I quickly walked to mat car as the girl said “Have a good night.” The real bummer of it all was that I did all that for what ended up being only a dollar tip. I should have left it there.

2. Apparently Your Wife/Girlfriend’s Nudity Can Be Used as Currency: I went to deliver a pizza to a pretty nice neighborhood, and was expecting a decent tip. It was one of those “drunk man villages” where every townhouse looks the same. Standing at the door, I knocked, and knocked, and knocked. No answer. Following delivery protocol, I went to a phone and called, and called again, and called again. No answer. There’s nothing like wasting gas and time on a “No Show.” So, I went back to the store, and started closing up. Sure enough the people that ordered the pizza called a half hour later asking for their pizza. Their excuse was that they had a bunch of kids over for a party and couldn’t hear the door or phone. I thought maybe I had gone to the wrong townhouse. It was a “drunk man village” after all. Arriving at the townhouse, I realized I was right the first time. Again there were no lights on. I knocked and a yuppie wearing only boxers and a layer of sweat opened the door. Shudder. He apologized and used the “kids party” excuse again. Only this time he said it as joke. He gave me his money, and I gave him his pizza. As the exchange took place, I noticed a slight giggle from beyond the doorway. The yuppie looked to his left and said, “Honey, why don’t you give him the tip.” Sure enough, a tall stunning brunette stepped into the doorway. She was wearing a robe and panties, and that’s about it. I thought she could have been wearing a bra. The fact that she wasn’t was made clear when she opened her robe as she handed me the money. Yeah, no b-b-b-bra. She chuckled as my eyes nervously looked for a location that wasn’t baring flesh. I stuttered thanks and went back to my car afraid the word “threesome” would be uttered. The tip though was actually pretty good, and yes I’m talking about the money.

3. People Will Offer You Anything for Free Pizza: It was one of those rare days, where I was brought in early to work. I was delivering a small pizza to another townhouse in another drunk man’s village. As I pulled into the parking lot, I noticed a group of kids loitering around. The oldest of the group was a girl that could’ve just had her 13th birthday. She couldn’t have been older than that. Seeing the Papa John’s sign (read: target) the kids clamored. “Pizza!” “Where are you going?” “Are you going to my house?” “Don’t go there. I want it.” “Do you have any free pizza?” They started following me up the stairs, as I kept answering no. After dashing their hopes for free pizza, I heard, “I’ll let you fuck me up the ass for that pizza.” Sweet Mother Hubbard! It was the older girl in the group. Any hope I had for our future generations was quickly snuffed out. I’m sure she was joking, but for that to come out of her mouth. Flabbergasted, I just delivered the pizza, and went to my car. They then begged me for some cigarettes. No, I didn’t give them any.

There’s three valuable lessons that I hope help you as they’ve helped me. If you are actually able to apply these lessons, please don’t let me know.

Bits O' Music

WAIT! Look I know you usually hit the back button once you see the “Bits O’Music” title, but I need your help on this. I’ve recently heard the band UFO mentioned in artists interviews. I had never heard of them, so I researched a little on them, and got a hold of some songs. My first reaction was, “How the hell did I not hear of these guys?” It took awhile to find a CD or even an MP3. iTunes didn’t have it. Amazon only had imports. Then recently UFO albums started appearing on iTunes, and remastered CD’s became available. It upsets me that I missed out on these guys. This is great classic rock. So my question to you is, have you heard of them? I realize I had a lot of catching up musically since my conservative youth, and some bands have slipped through the cracks. But, I can’t imagine a so called “popular” band like this passing me by especially when I was in my classic rock phase. My favorite song of the few I’ve listened to so far is “I’m a loser.” I love the piano and the build up to the end. It’s great power ballad stuff. Again, if anyone (Tim, Bobby, PLW) can shed a little light on these guys, I’d appreciate it.

UFO-I'm a Loser

If you are an artist or artist representative being featured on this blog and want me to take down a song, let me know, and it will be removed from the server immediately.

To Our Pets

We’ve all had a first pet. Technically, my first pet was an orange tabby named Jake. I don’t actually remember Jake. There are pictures and I’ve heard stories but I don’t consider Jake my first pet. The first pet of memory is a little mutt named Rags. My parents got Rags around the time my brother Ben was born. She was a cute little dog with the kindest disposition. She never demanding anything and was always well behaved. Rags was a constant. Rags was there for all the major events of our family’s life. She was there when Ben was born, when my Mom gave my brother and me the divorce talk,









My first day of school, when my Mom and stepfather married, when my half sisters were born, Rags was there.









When we’d meet my Mom at the halfway point for holidays, Rags always came with her little “hello” bark and tail wagging. Rags gave you unconditional love. Rags was there when you needed her. Despite all the crazy accidents that shortened the life span of our future pets, Rags lived a very long life. Her last few years were spent on the farm where she enjoyed blindly chasing rabbits and any sound she thought she heard. Eventually her time came. I remember when my Mom told me that Rags had died. Tears in her eyes my Mom said she just walked into the woods off into the woods and died like she didn’t want to burden us. Even after Rags was gone we still talked and reminisced about her. We had our Chags, Buffy, Pickles, Tigger, Tom, Rugs, and bunch of fish but none of them came close to the greatest pet ever: Rags.

Yes, I’m biased. But I hope all of you had a Rags to help you through the tough times. If you haven’t, I hope you get to experience it. If you have, then here’s to your Rags. Whether it be cat, dog, fish or turtle, to those pets that rose to the level of friend.

Albums in My Closet

I pride myself on my CD collection. In fact I’m a little egotistical about it. I won’t judge others about what they like, because they like what they hear. It’s not their fault they won’t extend their ears outside of what the record industry is shopping them. I know it is hard to turn away from their onslaught I was there once. We all have records we aren’t proud of. I’m not immune to the drunk purchase or the instinct purchase, or the who am I purchase. Here are my top 5 worse albums ever purchased. I could easily fill this up with Christian albums or Winger or other albums when I didn’t know any better. These are albums I should’ve known better to pick up. This time they are in order.

5. Poison-Open Up and Say Ahhhh: I know I just said that I wouldn’t include albums like this. Well, I wouldn’t have if I’d bought it in 1988. No, I bought it in 1995. For full price! Perhaps, I was trying to reclaim a past youth I never had. Perhaps, I was drunk. It most likely was none of those. When you purchase an album, and the cashier gives you the "What the hell are you buying look?" perhaps you should second guess your purchse.

4. Extreme-III Sides to Every Story: Extreme does a concept album? Hell yeah! You thought there were only two sides to every story? Moron! You see there is my side, your side and the truth. How clever is that? The only way I could sink even lower is if I went to their concert. Hmmm. At least I didn’t buy some lame baseball hat at the concert. Shit. I knew this was a bad idea.

3. RTZ-Return to Zero: Yes, the RTZ stands for Return to Zero. Yes, it’s redundant. Why did I buy this album? Does the name Brad Delp ring a bell? He was the lead singer of the classic rock band Boston. For some reason RTZ wasn't the second coming of Boston. For some reason nobody else cared. For some reason it didn’t work out. The reason: They sucked. A follow up to this awful purchase is the Boston album released in 1995 I think. It didn't have Brad Delp and stunk just as bad.

2. Trixter-Hear: During the midway point of alternative music’s trouncing of hair bands, this album came out. You most likely have never heard of them. I wish I was like you. When you buy an album, and then the video is lambasted on Beavis and Butthead, you know you might as well just bury it right then. I wish I had.

1. If Looks Could Kill-Original Soundtrack: I don’t know which is more embarrassing, seeing the movie in the theater or liking it so much that I bought the soundtrack. It’s probably the last. Wait! It’s that I saw it twice in the theater. Yeah, that’s the most embarrassing. Man, I loved my "21 Jump Street!"

Now that was slightly painful. When I start bragging about my collection you can now simply say “Trixter” or “If Look Could Kill” and easily put me in my place. Yes, I may regret this post for quite awhile.