As I finished up this week's episode of Boston Legal on the TiVo at around 8:58, I decided I would catch the last couple minutes of Olbermann on MSNBC. He was talking about the latest nonsense coming out of the Britney Spears camp, which would be mildly amusing if small children weren't involved. Usually, when he throws his paper and talks it being the 1,659th day or whatever since President Bush declared Mission Accomplished in Iraq, that's when I find something else somewhere up the dial. Instead, tonight, I hung on for the first couple minutes of Dan Abrams' show. He was talking about Judith Regan and a lawsuit filed against NewsCorp, accusing Rupert Murdoch and Roger Ailes, among others, of telling Regan to lie under oath about her illicit relationship with disgraced former New York Police Commish and Homeland Security nominee Bernie Kerik. Kerik and Regan, of course, had an affair after 9/11, and on several occasions may have consummated that relationship in a Lower Manhattan flat dedicated to hosting relief workers working at Ground Zero.
Now, generally this story is one marked for Page 6 in the Post. However, what we have here may actually be quite insidious. Why would Rupert Murdoch and Roger Ailes go out of their way to defend Bernard Kerik? Might it be, as Abrams alleged, some kind plot to protect Giuliani as he moves towards his date with the cast of the bad reality show we call the GOP Primary process?
We need look no further than what was airing at the same time on Fox News. I thought perhaps they'd be running the latest political intrigue with the Democratic primaries, or some ridiculous story about another lost suburban white girl, or something just as idiotic. Instead, what they were running was not just repulsive, it validated all parts of Dan Abrams' argument. At the EXACT SAME TIME MSNBC was running a story talking about Fox "News" may be covertly - perhaps even overtly - supporting one candidate for the Presidency, Hannity and Colmes (I was going to write a joke here, but I'm pretty sure it writes itself) was broadcasting a program-length commercial for Rudy Giuliani, starring his new best friend, Conservative ninny Pat Robertson.
The tagline running under Robertson's loathsome visage actually talked of him "discussing his endorsement of Giuliani."
Let me try to say this in plain terms: A purported news outlet is currently allowing an avowed misogynistic bigot to discuss his idealistic defense of a three-time philanderer with whom he shares no political views in order to drum up support for his campaign.
We have to be left to wonder, what took us so long for us all to catch on?
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Monday, November 05, 2007
All Your Sport Are Belong To Us
It's a great day to be alive in America. I've walked into my office each morning for about the last three weeks saying that. It is simply amazing to see what is happening in the city of Boston right now. It figures, of course, that it all starts clicking as soon as I leave, by the way. I guess I can never move back.
What the Patriots did yesterday moved them into the pantheon of great NFL teams. Teams like the Cowboys of the early 1990s, the 49ers of the 1980s or the Steelers of the 1970s. They are approaching immortality. They are approaching that rarified air that few teams ever reach, the immortality that is born of special teams. Teams like the '67 Packers, or the '85 Bears, or, of course the best of them all, the 1972 Miami Dolphins. What we all are watching is simply amazing. Tom Brady's season, barring an unthinkable injury, will go down as the best in NFL history. At the rate he's going, he will surpass Peyton Manning shortly after Thanksgiving. It is a treat to watch, and anyone who thinks otherwise, despite all of the ridiculous "Spygate" musings, just does not truly appreciate football. He is making a case that he may not just be having the best year of any quarterback in history, he may just be the best skill player in NFL history.
By the way, in case we forgot, the Celtics look like world beaters, and the Red Sox won the World Series last week. I'm told the Bruins are playing hockey at a high level, but I think we're all willing to accept that pro hockey isn't even a sport anymore. And sorry, but BC were WAY overrated even before they got whupped by Florida State. That said, there can only be one reaction when we take into account all these wonderful happenings:
Somebody set us up the bomb.
Indeed.
What the Patriots did yesterday moved them into the pantheon of great NFL teams. Teams like the Cowboys of the early 1990s, the 49ers of the 1980s or the Steelers of the 1970s. They are approaching immortality. They are approaching that rarified air that few teams ever reach, the immortality that is born of special teams. Teams like the '67 Packers, or the '85 Bears, or, of course the best of them all, the 1972 Miami Dolphins. What we all are watching is simply amazing. Tom Brady's season, barring an unthinkable injury, will go down as the best in NFL history. At the rate he's going, he will surpass Peyton Manning shortly after Thanksgiving. It is a treat to watch, and anyone who thinks otherwise, despite all of the ridiculous "Spygate" musings, just does not truly appreciate football. He is making a case that he may not just be having the best year of any quarterback in history, he may just be the best skill player in NFL history.
By the way, in case we forgot, the Celtics look like world beaters, and the Red Sox won the World Series last week. I'm told the Bruins are playing hockey at a high level, but I think we're all willing to accept that pro hockey isn't even a sport anymore. And sorry, but BC were WAY overrated even before they got whupped by Florida State. That said, there can only be one reaction when we take into account all these wonderful happenings:
Somebody set us up the bomb.
Indeed.
Monday, October 22, 2007
In The Land Where Champions Roam
This must be a dream.
Some kind of twisted fantasy land where things go right in Boston. Where the Red Sox ascend to the American League Pennant with minimal hardship. Where the Patriots slough off would-be contenders with the greatest of ease. Where the Celtics can go from cellar dwellers to an all-start team in the course of a summer.
Yes, it is a magical time to be in Boston.
That's why I'm glad I was back this weekend. I stopped up here for Carnival, Year Up's big national fundraiser, and got to hang on to witness an incredible weekend in Boston. The air seems lighter here, not only because of the global warming-inspired heat wave that's taken hold over New England, but because that pall of fear that usually hangs over us at this time of year has long since dissipated. The excitement gripping this city, this region has us all pinching ourselves.
The Red Sox are on the brink, as one newscaster put it last night, of making sure it won't be another damned 86 years. There has never, in my lifetime, been a Red Sox team as good as this one. The 2004 squad will always be in our hearts, bu they were a rag tag bunch of idiots who knew how, when and where to get hot and end all the misery. There were times during last night's game that the Sox' despatching of the Indians looked almost clinical. Teams that win championships have a new hero every night. Last night, we had the much-maligned (for the last week or so) Dustin Pedroia step up and give his answer to why he should. by any reasoning, be the Rookie of the Year. And we had Jonathan Papelbon come in and slam the door in the 8th in a situation in which we desperately needed to right the ship. This team is the best to ever wear the uniform, a fact that will be proven over the course of the next few days between Boston and Denver.
And the New England Patriots? What can we even say about them that hasn't already been said. They are one of those special teams in NFL history already and it's only Week 7. They will be mentioned in the annals of history, certainly with the '85 Bears and the 1980s 49ers and Cowboys. But the 1972 Dolphins, a team unmatched in sport, much less only in football, will need a certain amount of luck if they are to have their champagne party again this year. In two weeks, we should have our answer. If the Patriots beat the Colts, they will almost certainly be unstoppable. No one else on the schedule should provide any measure of competition to a team playing at the level of the Patriots. If Tom Brady had not already cemented his place in Canton, he is doing it this season. As I watched him slice and dice the Miami secondary yesterday, I couldn't even think of another quarterback who made it look so easy, so effortless. Not even Joe Montana in his prime could do what Brady did. Not Dan Marino. Not Johnny Unitas. Tom Brady is not just the greatest quarterback of his generation anymore. We may be watching the highlight reel of the NFL's greatest ever quarterback.
It's good to be home.
Some kind of twisted fantasy land where things go right in Boston. Where the Red Sox ascend to the American League Pennant with minimal hardship. Where the Patriots slough off would-be contenders with the greatest of ease. Where the Celtics can go from cellar dwellers to an all-start team in the course of a summer.
Yes, it is a magical time to be in Boston.
That's why I'm glad I was back this weekend. I stopped up here for Carnival, Year Up's big national fundraiser, and got to hang on to witness an incredible weekend in Boston. The air seems lighter here, not only because of the global warming-inspired heat wave that's taken hold over New England, but because that pall of fear that usually hangs over us at this time of year has long since dissipated. The excitement gripping this city, this region has us all pinching ourselves.
The Red Sox are on the brink, as one newscaster put it last night, of making sure it won't be another damned 86 years. There has never, in my lifetime, been a Red Sox team as good as this one. The 2004 squad will always be in our hearts, bu they were a rag tag bunch of idiots who knew how, when and where to get hot and end all the misery. There were times during last night's game that the Sox' despatching of the Indians looked almost clinical. Teams that win championships have a new hero every night. Last night, we had the much-maligned (for the last week or so) Dustin Pedroia step up and give his answer to why he should. by any reasoning, be the Rookie of the Year. And we had Jonathan Papelbon come in and slam the door in the 8th in a situation in which we desperately needed to right the ship. This team is the best to ever wear the uniform, a fact that will be proven over the course of the next few days between Boston and Denver.
And the New England Patriots? What can we even say about them that hasn't already been said. They are one of those special teams in NFL history already and it's only Week 7. They will be mentioned in the annals of history, certainly with the '85 Bears and the 1980s 49ers and Cowboys. But the 1972 Dolphins, a team unmatched in sport, much less only in football, will need a certain amount of luck if they are to have their champagne party again this year. In two weeks, we should have our answer. If the Patriots beat the Colts, they will almost certainly be unstoppable. No one else on the schedule should provide any measure of competition to a team playing at the level of the Patriots. If Tom Brady had not already cemented his place in Canton, he is doing it this season. As I watched him slice and dice the Miami secondary yesterday, I couldn't even think of another quarterback who made it look so easy, so effortless. Not even Joe Montana in his prime could do what Brady did. Not Dan Marino. Not Johnny Unitas. Tom Brady is not just the greatest quarterback of his generation anymore. We may be watching the highlight reel of the NFL's greatest ever quarterback.
It's good to be home.
Friday, August 24, 2007
Mystique, Aura, Gang Colors
Why is it that no part of this new report surprises me in the slightest?
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,294409,00.html
Actually, I take that back. The only thing that surprised me is that Yankee paraphernalia wasn't already considered gang colors.
http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,294409,00.html
Actually, I take that back. The only thing that surprised me is that Yankee paraphernalia wasn't already considered gang colors.
Monday, August 20, 2007
The Coast
I finally get it.
For years, literally years, people have been telling me to experience Northern California. "You'll love San Francisco if you love Boston," they said. "If you like LA you will be blown away by the North coast." And other things like that. I finally got sick of hearing it all, and I went to check it out for myself. Luckily, I also finally got the excuse with Megan's family headed out for the wedding of her Aunt Erin. So last Friday night Meggie and I boarded a JetBlue flight at Kennedy Airport bound for San Jose. For the next nine days, I had some of the coolest experiences I've had in the US. Here is just a taste.
You Can Find Me In The Cove
From the moment I saw it, walking towards the park on the Embarcadero, I knew AT&T Park was going to be for me. Now, of course, there is no place in the world like Fenway. It is the ultimate cathedral to baseball. If you don't know this by now, then you are just not paying attention. However, teams of late have been building markedly better stadia throughout the major leagues. I've been to a few of the new generation parks, Jacobs Field and Camden Yards among others, and while they are definite improvements, surely the Park at 24 Willie Mays Plaza must be the crown jewel. It is straight out of the old school. Despite the fact that our group tickets were in the third deck, I felt almost on top of the action. Not that there was a whole lot of action going on between the Giants and Pirates, but still, I felt close to the players and the game. We Red Sox fans are spoiled rotten these days, because we get 81 days a year where we get to see our boys play in those hallowed grounds. But if I ever had to choose another place to watch 81 games a year, AT&T Park would be it.
Wild World
I never made it to the Wild Coast of South Africa. I will certainly have to see it when I go back, but for now, the Mendocino coastline will have be a placeholder. It is a truly wild, rough place. As Highway 1 cuts north, slicing its way along the coastline, the vistas and ruggedness become ever more pronounced. The Mendocino headlands, in Mendocino village, a quaint seaside community for ex-hippie burnouts and, as it happened, "Murder, She Wrote" fans (it was filmed there), were the best part. An underground maze of caves and grottoes, punctuated by cliffs and beachheads, the headlands are a wonderful place to wile away the lazy afternoons hours, getting a chance to see what the California coast has looked like for centuries. And yes, even we indoor kids can enjoy it.
Foodie Paradise
I always loved going to Cooperstown when I was young. It was a monument to the game of baseball which had become a huge part of my life even in my youth. So it was no surprise that I got an analogous feeling as I arrived at COPIA - the Center for Food, Wine and the Arts, in Napa, CA. Eating in Julia Child's kitchen, the flavors I had recognized from my youth permeated throughout the air, as the wondrous smells wafted in from the open kitchen. My mom learned to cook while she nursed me, watching Saint Julia on PBS when I went down for my afternoon nap. And as we passed through the courses - Curried Summer Squash Bisque, Flatiron Steak with Garlic Smashed Potatoes, and Bing Cherry Strudel - I could almost hear the sharp tones of Julia's well-worn old New England voice lilting through those aromas, making the most elegant and decadent food accessible to us all. After lunch, I got to see exactly just how much of a playground COPIA could be. I stopped off at the Wine Spectator Tasting Center and did their "Judgment of Paris" tasting - a tribute to the famed 1976 Paris Tasting, in which I got to experience both Stag's Leap Artemis and Chateau Montelena Chard, both worth the price of admission. Then we wrapped up our visit, walking through the Edible Garden, taking in the different tastes and smells as the open-air pantry excited all the senses simultaneously in a veritable sensual orgy of foodgasm. A perfect, leisurely end to a wonderful visit to the monument for food.
Love, California Style
From the town that inspired Alfred Hitchcock's masterwork "The Birds," I got the chance to experience possibly the most beautiful wedding in the most beautiful setting you could ever conceive. How's that for an image? Nestled snuggly on the northern rim of Monterey Bay, the Monarch Cove Inn provided a veritable Shangri-La for the celebration of Megan's aunt, Erin, and the man who has become the love of her life, Ralph, and their commitment to each other. Now, don't get me wrong, I haven't gone all soft on you or anything. But I think you know enough about me by now that despite my tendencies towards sarcasm and cynicism, at heart I am an old hopeless romantic. And I believe in the power of love. Never before has that been feeling been more palpable in one time and one place than on that breezy Saturday afternoon. The setting sure helped, as did Ralph's signature "Swimming Naked" drink - and the 7 of them I drank (Ask for the recipe, it's pretty much the best beverage I've ever tasted. Ever. Including beer.). But the high point, and the one that slayed just about everybody was the expression of love in the couple's vows. Most times, people writing their own vows end up sounding like Rachel McAdams' sailor sister in Wedding Crashers, or Homer Simpson - "in richness and in poorness, in times when flying monkeys..." - in a word, hokey. But love flowed in the words Erin and Ralph shared with each other. As with everything else on Saturday, it was an exactly perfect microcosmic representation of their lives together. And in those words, and in that moment, in that perfect place and time, they created an everlasting bond with each other, and between both of their families and for the new family they will build in the coming years, and one that I am privileged to which I am honored to have borne witness.
We had lots of great experiences. The above are just a few selections. I owe a great debt of gratitude to the entire Bentley family for the experience. And I invite you to check out more pictures on Facebook for more from the California Odyssey.
For years, literally years, people have been telling me to experience Northern California. "You'll love San Francisco if you love Boston," they said. "If you like LA you will be blown away by the North coast." And other things like that. I finally got sick of hearing it all, and I went to check it out for myself. Luckily, I also finally got the excuse with Megan's family headed out for the wedding of her Aunt Erin. So last Friday night Meggie and I boarded a JetBlue flight at Kennedy Airport bound for San Jose. For the next nine days, I had some of the coolest experiences I've had in the US. Here is just a taste.
You Can Find Me In The Cove
From the moment I saw it, walking towards the park on the Embarcadero, I knew AT&T Park was going to be for me. Now, of course, there is no place in the world like Fenway. It is the ultimate cathedral to baseball. If you don't know this by now, then you are just not paying attention. However, teams of late have been building markedly better stadia throughout the major leagues. I've been to a few of the new generation parks, Jacobs Field and Camden Yards among others, and while they are definite improvements, surely the Park at 24 Willie Mays Plaza must be the crown jewel. It is straight out of the old school. Despite the fact that our group tickets were in the third deck, I felt almost on top of the action. Not that there was a whole lot of action going on between the Giants and Pirates, but still, I felt close to the players and the game. We Red Sox fans are spoiled rotten these days, because we get 81 days a year where we get to see our boys play in those hallowed grounds. But if I ever had to choose another place to watch 81 games a year, AT&T Park would be it.
Wild World
I never made it to the Wild Coast of South Africa. I will certainly have to see it when I go back, but for now, the Mendocino coastline will have be a placeholder. It is a truly wild, rough place. As Highway 1 cuts north, slicing its way along the coastline, the vistas and ruggedness become ever more pronounced. The Mendocino headlands, in Mendocino village, a quaint seaside community for ex-hippie burnouts and, as it happened, "Murder, She Wrote" fans (it was filmed there), were the best part. An underground maze of caves and grottoes, punctuated by cliffs and beachheads, the headlands are a wonderful place to wile away the lazy afternoons hours, getting a chance to see what the California coast has looked like for centuries. And yes, even we indoor kids can enjoy it.
Foodie Paradise
I always loved going to Cooperstown when I was young. It was a monument to the game of baseball which had become a huge part of my life even in my youth. So it was no surprise that I got an analogous feeling as I arrived at COPIA - the Center for Food, Wine and the Arts, in Napa, CA. Eating in Julia Child's kitchen, the flavors I had recognized from my youth permeated throughout the air, as the wondrous smells wafted in from the open kitchen. My mom learned to cook while she nursed me, watching Saint Julia on PBS when I went down for my afternoon nap. And as we passed through the courses - Curried Summer Squash Bisque, Flatiron Steak with Garlic Smashed Potatoes, and Bing Cherry Strudel - I could almost hear the sharp tones of Julia's well-worn old New England voice lilting through those aromas, making the most elegant and decadent food accessible to us all. After lunch, I got to see exactly just how much of a playground COPIA could be. I stopped off at the Wine Spectator Tasting Center and did their "Judgment of Paris" tasting - a tribute to the famed 1976 Paris Tasting, in which I got to experience both Stag's Leap Artemis and Chateau Montelena Chard, both worth the price of admission. Then we wrapped up our visit, walking through the Edible Garden, taking in the different tastes and smells as the open-air pantry excited all the senses simultaneously in a veritable sensual orgy of foodgasm. A perfect, leisurely end to a wonderful visit to the monument for food.
Love, California Style
From the town that inspired Alfred Hitchcock's masterwork "The Birds," I got the chance to experience possibly the most beautiful wedding in the most beautiful setting you could ever conceive. How's that for an image? Nestled snuggly on the northern rim of Monterey Bay, the Monarch Cove Inn provided a veritable Shangri-La for the celebration of Megan's aunt, Erin, and the man who has become the love of her life, Ralph, and their commitment to each other. Now, don't get me wrong, I haven't gone all soft on you or anything. But I think you know enough about me by now that despite my tendencies towards sarcasm and cynicism, at heart I am an old hopeless romantic. And I believe in the power of love. Never before has that been feeling been more palpable in one time and one place than on that breezy Saturday afternoon. The setting sure helped, as did Ralph's signature "Swimming Naked" drink - and the 7 of them I drank (Ask for the recipe, it's pretty much the best beverage I've ever tasted. Ever. Including beer.). But the high point, and the one that slayed just about everybody was the expression of love in the couple's vows. Most times, people writing their own vows end up sounding like Rachel McAdams' sailor sister in Wedding Crashers, or Homer Simpson - "in richness and in poorness, in times when flying monkeys..." - in a word, hokey. But love flowed in the words Erin and Ralph shared with each other. As with everything else on Saturday, it was an exactly perfect microcosmic representation of their lives together. And in those words, and in that moment, in that perfect place and time, they created an everlasting bond with each other, and between both of their families and for the new family they will build in the coming years, and one that I am privileged to which I am honored to have borne witness.
We had lots of great experiences. The above are just a few selections. I owe a great debt of gratitude to the entire Bentley family for the experience. And I invite you to check out more pictures on Facebook for more from the California Odyssey.
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
New Digs
The intarnets, as we all know, are a series of tubes. And on these tubes is carried information. In some cases, that information takes pictographical form. Here follows some pictures, specifically of my new room in my apartment in Crystal City, Virginia. (Note: If you're reading this on Facebook, the images will probably not push to the RSS feed. Click over to the proper blog to see them.)
Here's my new bed.
But, more importantly, here is my entertainment pavilion.
Anyway, it's a big room in a really nice apartment with my wonderful new roommates, James and Cynthia, in a very swank high-rise building in the heart of Crystal City. I'm excited! Also, you should probably make plans to come visit me soon. I like company.
Here's my new bed.
But, more importantly, here is my entertainment pavilion.
Anyway, it's a big room in a really nice apartment with my wonderful new roommates, James and Cynthia, in a very swank high-rise building in the heart of Crystal City. I'm excited! Also, you should probably make plans to come visit me soon. I like company.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Go Get Your Shinebox
Joey has - mercifully - taken his leave from Top Chef. The Brooklyn-born meathead, who some may have found endearing in the same way Mike was last season, finally let his mule-like obstinacy get in the way of preparing a dish correctly, and it caught up with him. I agree with the judges' decision, but also am keenly aware that apart from Howie, who might just be a more refined form of Joey, each of the contestants at Judges Table could have gone home last night for cause.
Let's start with Sara Mair. For god's sake, Howie's tirade was spot on. She brought nothing to the table last night. And she is obviously not going to win this competition. However, her sins did not loom as large as Joey's by the mere fact that her were sins of omission, not execution. By contrast, Joey executed his dish incorrectly and paid the price. All Sara did was gainsay all of Howie's ideas, to the point where the dish became an unsettled mess. But even her lack of fundamental execution did not rise high enough amidst the chaos and confusion to warrant being second in the line of fire in my view.
That honor goes to Hung and his ridiculous behavior in the kitchen. As Anthony Bourdain would say, Hung displayed an incredible lack of "chefly qualities." When you run a kitchen, if one of the guys you work with is doing something wrong, you beat him with a frying pan until he gets it. Hung, very quietly, said "Gee whiz, Joey, we really oughta freeze things individually." And then when Joey the meathead didn't get it, he shut up and let the dish fail! Had it been my decision to make, Hung's actions would almost have risen to the level of Joey's transgressions and definitely merited discussion about sending him home. He is clearly a very gifted cook, but he is not a chef. Full stop. He can't run a kitchen and that became obvious last night. Now maybe he will learn from these experiences and hone that part of his craft a little finer as he ages and gets wiser, but Hung proved last night that he does not deserve the title of Top Chef.
In the end, however, the dish that sank Joey was doomed from the start. It honestly wouldn't have been very good before it was frozen, especially against masterwork like that presented by Tre and CJ and the extremely surprising effort from Casey and Dale. So Joey's time was up. He went about as far as I would have expected him too, exceeding expectations a few times and only meeting them for the rest.
Let's start with Sara Mair. For god's sake, Howie's tirade was spot on. She brought nothing to the table last night. And she is obviously not going to win this competition. However, her sins did not loom as large as Joey's by the mere fact that her were sins of omission, not execution. By contrast, Joey executed his dish incorrectly and paid the price. All Sara did was gainsay all of Howie's ideas, to the point where the dish became an unsettled mess. But even her lack of fundamental execution did not rise high enough amidst the chaos and confusion to warrant being second in the line of fire in my view.
That honor goes to Hung and his ridiculous behavior in the kitchen. As Anthony Bourdain would say, Hung displayed an incredible lack of "chefly qualities." When you run a kitchen, if one of the guys you work with is doing something wrong, you beat him with a frying pan until he gets it. Hung, very quietly, said "Gee whiz, Joey, we really oughta freeze things individually." And then when Joey the meathead didn't get it, he shut up and let the dish fail! Had it been my decision to make, Hung's actions would almost have risen to the level of Joey's transgressions and definitely merited discussion about sending him home. He is clearly a very gifted cook, but he is not a chef. Full stop. He can't run a kitchen and that became obvious last night. Now maybe he will learn from these experiences and hone that part of his craft a little finer as he ages and gets wiser, but Hung proved last night that he does not deserve the title of Top Chef.
In the end, however, the dish that sank Joey was doomed from the start. It honestly wouldn't have been very good before it was frozen, especially against masterwork like that presented by Tre and CJ and the extremely surprising effort from Casey and Dale. So Joey's time was up. He went about as far as I would have expected him too, exceeding expectations a few times and only meeting them for the rest.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
G-Day
Garnett and Gagne in the same day? In Boston? No way...
Though I'm in the midst of packing (read: SHOULD BE in the midst of packing) to make the move to Crystal City, Virginia this weekend, I felt I needed to take some time out to pass on my thoughts about yesterday in Boston sports. I mean, seriously, the day I decide to leave Boston, the Red Sox acquire the dominant bullpen arm they need for security down the stretch and the Celtics acquire a first ballot hall-of-famer and complete the new big three. Just my luck.
Gagne will hopefully always be remembered as the final piece of the puzzle that brought the Red Sox their second World Series title in four years. Garnett should become a legend in Celtics history as the cornerstone of the new Big Three. I mean, can you even conceive of the fact that this town is now host to the odds-on favorites to win their respective championships in three sports? We haven't even spoken about the Patriots, and all they did in the offseason was go out and get Adalius Thomas, Donte Stallworth and Randy Moss, three of the best players in the NFL. They just opened training camp being picked by everybody and anybody with an opinion on the National Football League to win Super Bowl XLII, and they are a distant third on the sports pages this morning.
First, we have to talk about the Garnett trade. With Pierce and Allen, the Celtics can afford to throw out Rajon Rondo (who looked overmatched during last year's tanking debacle) and Kendrick Perkins to round out the starting five. And as much as I hate Brian Scalabrine, he just became a very important piece. Now that he can be a sixth man and not a starter, he can help shoulder the load when KG and/or Perkins needs a rest. Now, the Celtics still need to go out and sign a veteran defensive presence because not one of this new Big Three plays a whole lot of defense (I'm looking at you, Ray Allen) before they can truly be labeled as Championship contenders. But since the Eastern Conference has gone from bad to worse in the last three years, they have become the immediate favorites to go to the NBA Finals. This from a team that was more focused on lottery balls than winning games last year. Still, bleeding green just came back into fashion in Beantown.
And now, Gagne. My father put it in the best perspective last night as we discussed the trade, "So, essentially, the starter has to go about three innings and we'll have a fighting chance every night?" Exactly. Now when Lester starts losing steam after six, we can go to this combo in the bullpen: Delcarmen/Timlin in the 7th, Okajima/Gagne in the 8th, Papelbon in the 9th. With pitching like that, this team can hit .245 the rest of the way and win more than they lose. Everyone will be rested when they need to be. Everyone will be able to shoulder - no pun intended - the load. Let's also put this in perspective. The Yankees traded the ONLY semi-reliable arm in their bullpen, Scott Proctor, yesterday for Wilson Betemit, knowing they will need a third baseman when A-Rod skips town in about 60 days. That's the best you could do, Brian Cashman? I never honestly thought the Yankees would lie down and play dead. But they have to understand that they cannot keep winning games by 13 runs like last night. Eventually, they are going to start playing real competition, not the White Sox and Devil Rays, and they will need pitching. That, not bats, wins championships.
That said, the Red Sox desperately needed to move Wily Mo Pena before yesterday and they didn't do it. They also need a more reliable bat off the bench and glove in the outfield. Jermaine Dye was not the answer. Bobby Kielty might be, and I can't for the life of me figure out why they didn't take a flyer on him. But Wily Mo Pena does not fit on this team. Despite Big Papi's assurances that Pena works very hard, and I have no doubt that he does, this team does not need a guy who can't hit curve balls. They need a singles guy, with a little pop off the bench, someone who will get on base so we can score runs in the late innings to give our uber-bullpen some breathing room. But who knows, maybe Theo has something else up his sleeve.
In any case, this time in history has been great for Boston sports, and yesterday's G-Day helped solidify those good feelings for times to come.
Though I'm in the midst of packing (read: SHOULD BE in the midst of packing) to make the move to Crystal City, Virginia this weekend, I felt I needed to take some time out to pass on my thoughts about yesterday in Boston sports. I mean, seriously, the day I decide to leave Boston, the Red Sox acquire the dominant bullpen arm they need for security down the stretch and the Celtics acquire a first ballot hall-of-famer and complete the new big three. Just my luck.
Gagne will hopefully always be remembered as the final piece of the puzzle that brought the Red Sox their second World Series title in four years. Garnett should become a legend in Celtics history as the cornerstone of the new Big Three. I mean, can you even conceive of the fact that this town is now host to the odds-on favorites to win their respective championships in three sports? We haven't even spoken about the Patriots, and all they did in the offseason was go out and get Adalius Thomas, Donte Stallworth and Randy Moss, three of the best players in the NFL. They just opened training camp being picked by everybody and anybody with an opinion on the National Football League to win Super Bowl XLII, and they are a distant third on the sports pages this morning.
First, we have to talk about the Garnett trade. With Pierce and Allen, the Celtics can afford to throw out Rajon Rondo (who looked overmatched during last year's tanking debacle) and Kendrick Perkins to round out the starting five. And as much as I hate Brian Scalabrine, he just became a very important piece. Now that he can be a sixth man and not a starter, he can help shoulder the load when KG and/or Perkins needs a rest. Now, the Celtics still need to go out and sign a veteran defensive presence because not one of this new Big Three plays a whole lot of defense (I'm looking at you, Ray Allen) before they can truly be labeled as Championship contenders. But since the Eastern Conference has gone from bad to worse in the last three years, they have become the immediate favorites to go to the NBA Finals. This from a team that was more focused on lottery balls than winning games last year. Still, bleeding green just came back into fashion in Beantown.
And now, Gagne. My father put it in the best perspective last night as we discussed the trade, "So, essentially, the starter has to go about three innings and we'll have a fighting chance every night?" Exactly. Now when Lester starts losing steam after six, we can go to this combo in the bullpen: Delcarmen/Timlin in the 7th, Okajima/Gagne in the 8th, Papelbon in the 9th. With pitching like that, this team can hit .245 the rest of the way and win more than they lose. Everyone will be rested when they need to be. Everyone will be able to shoulder - no pun intended - the load. Let's also put this in perspective. The Yankees traded the ONLY semi-reliable arm in their bullpen, Scott Proctor, yesterday for Wilson Betemit, knowing they will need a third baseman when A-Rod skips town in about 60 days. That's the best you could do, Brian Cashman? I never honestly thought the Yankees would lie down and play dead. But they have to understand that they cannot keep winning games by 13 runs like last night. Eventually, they are going to start playing real competition, not the White Sox and Devil Rays, and they will need pitching. That, not bats, wins championships.
That said, the Red Sox desperately needed to move Wily Mo Pena before yesterday and they didn't do it. They also need a more reliable bat off the bench and glove in the outfield. Jermaine Dye was not the answer. Bobby Kielty might be, and I can't for the life of me figure out why they didn't take a flyer on him. But Wily Mo Pena does not fit on this team. Despite Big Papi's assurances that Pena works very hard, and I have no doubt that he does, this team does not need a guy who can't hit curve balls. They need a singles guy, with a little pop off the bench, someone who will get on base so we can score runs in the late innings to give our uber-bullpen some breathing room. But who knows, maybe Theo has something else up his sleeve.
In any case, this time in history has been great for Boston sports, and yesterday's G-Day helped solidify those good feelings for times to come.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Gainfully Employed!
The long and winding road of the job search has finally come to an end. I have been offered and intend to accept a position with Year Up in Washington, DC. I should start at the end of next month. Year Up is a growing national non-profit, originally based in Boston, which conducts a year-long program for urban youths, aged 18-24, helping them to gain access to the corporate world. The organization works with many corporate partners including AOL, Freddie Mac, Bank of America, JP Morgan and State Street Bank just to name a few, and was given a Social Capitalist award by Fast Company magazine (long known for their leadership in identifying key business trends, as seen in their article "Joe Trippi's Killer App") last year solidifying their place as one the country's best and fastest growing non-profits. You can learn more about us at www.yearup.org.
As for me, I'll be filling the role of Apprenticeships and Grants Coordinator, which means I will be interfacing a lot with our corporate partnerships, helping to secure placements for the students we enroll in the organization, as well as liaising with alumni and also mentoring a few students along the way.
If you can't tell, I am thrilled to death by the prospect of joining such a wonderful organization and moving to a great place like DC. (On that note, if anybody needs a roommate, let me know!) I'm sad to leave Boston, especially at the height of a pennant race, but am ready for and excited by what's next.
As for me, I'll be filling the role of Apprenticeships and Grants Coordinator, which means I will be interfacing a lot with our corporate partnerships, helping to secure placements for the students we enroll in the organization, as well as liaising with alumni and also mentoring a few students along the way.
If you can't tell, I am thrilled to death by the prospect of joining such a wonderful organization and moving to a great place like DC. (On that note, if anybody needs a roommate, let me know!) I'm sad to leave Boston, especially at the height of a pennant race, but am ready for and excited by what's next.
Thursday, July 12, 2007
Camille...Sorry, Have We Met?
I have one question after last night's Top Chef.
Who was Camille? I really didn't know she was on the show until she went home.
Seriously, the reason she went home is that she finally distnguished herself. Poorly. Her idea of miniature pineapple upside down cakes fell about as flat as Sara's uninspired "Semifreddo" the difference being that Camille had never done anything of note on the show, good or bad.
I will say this, the pineapple idea was really solid, combining fruit and dessert in that setting was a good idea. However, every idea that flowed from that kernel of goodness was completely off base. There is so much that they could have done with pineapple, including lots of things that did not involve having pastry chef experience, that would have been both inventive and tasty, and they went in exactly none of those directions. They thought they'd be able to cry foul at the judges table and limp away becuase they had no experience. Not in this competition, baby.
On another note, while Casey's dish was probably fairly weak, I think it came about as a product of environment as opposed to lack of skill or mailing it in. Working with the hair-brained scheme twins, Howie and Joey, must have been exhausting. Finally knowing she could not go home her distracted mess of a creation didn't seem so bad in the final analysis. Hopefully next week, we'll get back to mano a mano cookoffs rather than the team aspect.
Who was Camille? I really didn't know she was on the show until she went home.
Seriously, the reason she went home is that she finally distnguished herself. Poorly. Her idea of miniature pineapple upside down cakes fell about as flat as Sara's uninspired "Semifreddo" the difference being that Camille had never done anything of note on the show, good or bad.
I will say this, the pineapple idea was really solid, combining fruit and dessert in that setting was a good idea. However, every idea that flowed from that kernel of goodness was completely off base. There is so much that they could have done with pineapple, including lots of things that did not involve having pastry chef experience, that would have been both inventive and tasty, and they went in exactly none of those directions. They thought they'd be able to cry foul at the judges table and limp away becuase they had no experience. Not in this competition, baby.
On another note, while Casey's dish was probably fairly weak, I think it came about as a product of environment as opposed to lack of skill or mailing it in. Working with the hair-brained scheme twins, Howie and Joey, must have been exhausting. Finally knowing she could not go home her distracted mess of a creation didn't seem so bad in the final analysis. Hopefully next week, we'll get back to mano a mano cookoffs rather than the team aspect.
Tuesday, July 03, 2007
Independence
Since I read the news last night about President Bush's commutation of the 30-month sentence levied by a jury on I. Lewis "Scooter" Libby, I have been literally consumed by anger. I wanted so desperately to get my feelings on this matter out to you. I haven't been able to think of the words.
Keith Olbermann did.
Read every word that he wrote and spoke on tonight's "Countdown" on MSNBC. Then read it again. Then search for it on YouTube and watch it. The visceral anger in both Olbermann's words and the tenor of his voice give even greater depth to his words. Here is a man who stands up. Here is a man, quoting from a lexicon of Americana so broad and deep as to include James Madison and John Wayne and who steadfastly and passionately demands of the President of the United States to come to the same conclusion many of us already have, that it is time for him to go. Here stands a patriot, a man who loves his country so deeply that he is nearly brought to tears by the actions of a government with utter distaste for the people they are meant to govern.
Let me be clear. I stand with Keith Olbermann. I stand with every word he spoke and with the power of his voice like a clarion call crying out in the wilderness. The time has come for patriotic Americans to demand better of the government in whom a thin plurality of us have twice called to serve. What happened to Scooter Libby was not a miscarriage of justice, it was the complete undoing of justice in America. We are barely thirty years from Watergate and we have allowed ourselves to be duped again by mad charlatans who crave only power, nothing more and nothing less. This country needs more brave men and women to proclaim that they are mad as hell and not going to take it anymore.
They must no longer be allowed to question my patriotism, my commitment to this grand idea of America, simply because we disagree. What kind of arrogance is that? What kind of cowardice is that? And they must not be allowed to subvert the laws which hold this country together.
This president, this administration, and this government have failed to serve the American people. It is high time they consider their misdeeds. And if they will not, then the Congress must do what is right and begin drafting Articles of Impeachment against Messrs. Bush and Cheney.
Happy Independence Day.
Keith Olbermann did.
Read every word that he wrote and spoke on tonight's "Countdown" on MSNBC. Then read it again. Then search for it on YouTube and watch it. The visceral anger in both Olbermann's words and the tenor of his voice give even greater depth to his words. Here is a man who stands up. Here is a man, quoting from a lexicon of Americana so broad and deep as to include James Madison and John Wayne and who steadfastly and passionately demands of the President of the United States to come to the same conclusion many of us already have, that it is time for him to go. Here stands a patriot, a man who loves his country so deeply that he is nearly brought to tears by the actions of a government with utter distaste for the people they are meant to govern.
Let me be clear. I stand with Keith Olbermann. I stand with every word he spoke and with the power of his voice like a clarion call crying out in the wilderness. The time has come for patriotic Americans to demand better of the government in whom a thin plurality of us have twice called to serve. What happened to Scooter Libby was not a miscarriage of justice, it was the complete undoing of justice in America. We are barely thirty years from Watergate and we have allowed ourselves to be duped again by mad charlatans who crave only power, nothing more and nothing less. This country needs more brave men and women to proclaim that they are mad as hell and not going to take it anymore.
They must no longer be allowed to question my patriotism, my commitment to this grand idea of America, simply because we disagree. What kind of arrogance is that? What kind of cowardice is that? And they must not be allowed to subvert the laws which hold this country together.
This president, this administration, and this government have failed to serve the American people. It is high time they consider their misdeeds. And if they will not, then the Congress must do what is right and begin drafting Articles of Impeachment against Messrs. Bush and Cheney.
Happy Independence Day.
Monday, June 25, 2007
Stoking the Fires
I feel like I never write about the Red Sox. I mean, to be fair, there's not much to write about when you're 11 games ahead in the AL East, with the hated Yankees fading quickly into the morass of sub-par franchises yet again. And trust me, as I sit here in New York, that fact is not sitting well. Driving in yesterday with Megan for a week of dipsaluscious vacation and job interviewing, I caught the end of the Giants-Yankees matchup on 880. John Sterling and Suzyn (or however the hell you spell that worthless tramp's name) Waldman were practically apoplectic at the sight of this once proud franchise dropping five games out of six - including a sweep by the Colorado Rockies - in increasingly poor fashion. Sterling, who I truly believe is actually an elaborate macro rather than an actual human being, was shooting his mouth off about how bad this team was, and how much they needed pitching and all the rest of the things Yankee fans lean on when the team is down. How much they actually believe that it's everybody else's fault that they're losing.
It's disgusting.
But it does mean one very important thing, which is why I'm here to talk about the Red Sox. The Yankees are, as always, big buyers at the trade deadline, which is a scant 36 days away, according to the Buzz Blog over at Boston.com. This year presents a particularly interesting scenario because so many teams are so bad, but in the American League, the two teams to watch are the White Sox and Rangers. Both teams look to be sellers coming towards July 31. Now, traditionally, the Yankees make waves at the Deadline with one big-name signing and some smaller signings, usually pitchers, that always seem to pan out. Here's the problem. These are some names of seemingly available players.
Mark Buehrle.
Mark Teixiera.
Eric Gagne and/or Akinori Otsuka.
You add any or all of those guys to the mix over in the Bronx and all of a sudden that 11 1/2 games back third place team fading into indignity becomes a force to be reckoned with in August and September. And with this Red Sox having missed the injury boat thus far, it could be a late season hiccup that sends this team into a tailspin. But does that mean that the Red Sox should be buying at the Deadline?
Ironically, yes.
They have several important pieces that could make a difference for middling teams. They do have the prospects to ship out of town as well as veteran players. Here are some players whose names I think you'll see mentioned and why.
Mike Lowell: He's 32. He's got an expiring contract. He's having his best hitting year in a while. And as much as he has become an integral part of this Red Sox team, and as much as he is a stand up guy who I would personally hate to see leave the community, teams like Minnesota, and even the White Sox - who may still be able to make a late season run in an oversold Central - need a solid corner infielder who plays incredible defense. And we can move Kevin Youkilis back to his natural position if we were to go hard after Teixiera, which we would need to do.
Coco Crisp: We're going to talk about Jacoby Ellsbury in a second, he being the heir apparent to the vast expanse of Center Field at Fenway. Coco is not hitting. Yeah, he's starting to turn it around, which is good from a trade perspective. And he has a year left on his contract which means the team that got him would get the best year of his career next year (Contract year + Prime of Career + Something to Prove = SuperCoco!). The kicker is this: if Coco stays he will have to fight for his job next spring against Ellsbury who looks like a world-class baseball player at the AAA level. Why not ship him out of town? Move Drew back to Center and get Ellsbury (or Murphy/Moss if they want to coddle their burgeoning star) up to be the 4th outfielder behind Wily Mo in his audition to play DH somewhere else next year.
Craig Hansen: This guy is going to be either an All-Star setup man or one of the league's best closers. He just isn't going to do it in Boston. The Okajima/Papelbon combination looks like it has cemented itself in the 8th and 9th innings for the foreseeable future. Hansen is going to be highly prized, especially in Chicago for what he will bring to the table. I hate trading pitching, especially young pitching, but where Hansen does not fit, don't you have to use him to get that one extra piece that brings another world championship to Boston?
Clay Buchholz/Jacoby Ellsbury: These two are the futures of this franchise. They should be untouchable. In two years, Buchholz will be the best young starter in the league and Ellsbury will singlehandedly bring back the Go-Go Red Sox. Not even Buehrle and Teixiera would be worth losing either one of these guys.
And finally here are the trades I would like to see:
CHICAGO (AL) gets:
Coco Crisp
Craig Hansen
Abe Alvarez
BOSTON gets:
Mark Buehrle
or maybe...
TEXAS gets:
Mike Lowell/Coco Crisp
Craig Hansen
Abe Alvarez
David Murphy
BOSTON gets:
Mark Teixiera
Eric Gagne
or maybe...nothing at all.
It's disgusting.
But it does mean one very important thing, which is why I'm here to talk about the Red Sox. The Yankees are, as always, big buyers at the trade deadline, which is a scant 36 days away, according to the Buzz Blog over at Boston.com. This year presents a particularly interesting scenario because so many teams are so bad, but in the American League, the two teams to watch are the White Sox and Rangers. Both teams look to be sellers coming towards July 31. Now, traditionally, the Yankees make waves at the Deadline with one big-name signing and some smaller signings, usually pitchers, that always seem to pan out. Here's the problem. These are some names of seemingly available players.
Mark Buehrle.
Mark Teixiera.
Eric Gagne and/or Akinori Otsuka.
You add any or all of those guys to the mix over in the Bronx and all of a sudden that 11 1/2 games back third place team fading into indignity becomes a force to be reckoned with in August and September. And with this Red Sox having missed the injury boat thus far, it could be a late season hiccup that sends this team into a tailspin. But does that mean that the Red Sox should be buying at the Deadline?
Ironically, yes.
They have several important pieces that could make a difference for middling teams. They do have the prospects to ship out of town as well as veteran players. Here are some players whose names I think you'll see mentioned and why.
Mike Lowell: He's 32. He's got an expiring contract. He's having his best hitting year in a while. And as much as he has become an integral part of this Red Sox team, and as much as he is a stand up guy who I would personally hate to see leave the community, teams like Minnesota, and even the White Sox - who may still be able to make a late season run in an oversold Central - need a solid corner infielder who plays incredible defense. And we can move Kevin Youkilis back to his natural position if we were to go hard after Teixiera, which we would need to do.
Coco Crisp: We're going to talk about Jacoby Ellsbury in a second, he being the heir apparent to the vast expanse of Center Field at Fenway. Coco is not hitting. Yeah, he's starting to turn it around, which is good from a trade perspective. And he has a year left on his contract which means the team that got him would get the best year of his career next year (Contract year + Prime of Career + Something to Prove = SuperCoco!). The kicker is this: if Coco stays he will have to fight for his job next spring against Ellsbury who looks like a world-class baseball player at the AAA level. Why not ship him out of town? Move Drew back to Center and get Ellsbury (or Murphy/Moss if they want to coddle their burgeoning star) up to be the 4th outfielder behind Wily Mo in his audition to play DH somewhere else next year.
Craig Hansen: This guy is going to be either an All-Star setup man or one of the league's best closers. He just isn't going to do it in Boston. The Okajima/Papelbon combination looks like it has cemented itself in the 8th and 9th innings for the foreseeable future. Hansen is going to be highly prized, especially in Chicago for what he will bring to the table. I hate trading pitching, especially young pitching, but where Hansen does not fit, don't you have to use him to get that one extra piece that brings another world championship to Boston?
Clay Buchholz/Jacoby Ellsbury: These two are the futures of this franchise. They should be untouchable. In two years, Buchholz will be the best young starter in the league and Ellsbury will singlehandedly bring back the Go-Go Red Sox. Not even Buehrle and Teixiera would be worth losing either one of these guys.
And finally here are the trades I would like to see:
CHICAGO (AL) gets:
Coco Crisp
Craig Hansen
Abe Alvarez
BOSTON gets:
Mark Buehrle
or maybe...
TEXAS gets:
Mike Lowell/Coco Crisp
Craig Hansen
Abe Alvarez
David Murphy
BOSTON gets:
Mark Teixiera
Eric Gagne
or maybe...nothing at all.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Poached Lobster Is Not A Barbecue Food, There, I Said It.
Ah yes, Top Chef is bringing the heat from week to week. Last night was no exception, as the contestants took their culinary wares out of doors for an upscale barbecue event. And for the most part, the chefs-in-waiting brought their "A" games. I thought the judges' decision on making Brian the winner of last night's challenge was on point, his seafood sausage hit all the high points needed, and fulfilled the expectations of the judges, as it was both upscale and barbecue appropriate. Sara Nguyen impressed as well, if only by accident, with her Vietnamese Ribeye creation. She definitely got a lot of points for accessibility of food, which can be of particular desirability when standing and mingling under the hot sun.
There were definitely some losers last night. Sandee, of course, was chief among them. Just because you manage to poach lobster on a grill does not mean it's barbecue food. As the other 13 contestants prove, there are myriad ways of finding new and interesting barbecue creations and textures and flavors. She chickened out or lost the plot, and deserved to get canned. But Howie and Joey were almost bigger problems. Howie lost more points with the judges on execution, this time not realizing that if you cut pork and leave it out, it will get dry and inedible. This man is a chef for crying out loud! He's not a line cook, he runs a kitchen. That kind of mistake is absolutely a failure of Culinary Skills 101. Joey on the other hand - who by the way, is the worst kind of New Yorker (the one who believes the world ends West of the Hudson, and for Joey, perhaps we shrink that to outside of Brooklyn) - made chicken wings! And not even good chicken wings, just run of the mill things he would make for a block party in Prospect Heights. These two have to raise their games immediately - though I don't think Joey can hack it - if they want to survive much longer.
One more note on Tre. He was brought to judges' table for a very good reason. They don't want him turning into Cliff. They don't want him to be another guy with a lot of promise and competitive drive, who gets a little bit to arrogant after some early victories. Tre is going to be there at the end, unless his head gets the better of him. He just needed a little spanking from the judges to clarify that.
There were definitely some losers last night. Sandee, of course, was chief among them. Just because you manage to poach lobster on a grill does not mean it's barbecue food. As the other 13 contestants prove, there are myriad ways of finding new and interesting barbecue creations and textures and flavors. She chickened out or lost the plot, and deserved to get canned. But Howie and Joey were almost bigger problems. Howie lost more points with the judges on execution, this time not realizing that if you cut pork and leave it out, it will get dry and inedible. This man is a chef for crying out loud! He's not a line cook, he runs a kitchen. That kind of mistake is absolutely a failure of Culinary Skills 101. Joey on the other hand - who by the way, is the worst kind of New Yorker (the one who believes the world ends West of the Hudson, and for Joey, perhaps we shrink that to outside of Brooklyn) - made chicken wings! And not even good chicken wings, just run of the mill things he would make for a block party in Prospect Heights. These two have to raise their games immediately - though I don't think Joey can hack it - if they want to survive much longer.
One more note on Tre. He was brought to judges' table for a very good reason. They don't want him turning into Cliff. They don't want him to be another guy with a lot of promise and competitive drive, who gets a little bit to arrogant after some early victories. Tre is going to be there at the end, unless his head gets the better of him. He just needed a little spanking from the judges to clarify that.
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
YouTube + Presidential Candidate = Funny? Amazingly, Yes.
Oh my god. Hillary Clinton brought the funny.
I am reminded of those heady days on the Dean campaign when we were trying to select our campaign song. We didn't do anything this witty. We just put a thread on the blog and asked people to post their favorites. My favorite response was to Christina Aguilera's "Fighter" to which a Deaniac said, "That girl gives me a sexual disease just by watching her on TV."
Yup, those were our supporters.
But this is not about me, or all of the cool stuff I've done. Let's get back to the Hillary video. I think it's a great send-up. Also, the Johnny Sac cameo was brilliant. I can only hope that her fellow candidates bring the funny as well as she did.
They should also present a policy program that can help America regain her role in the world, strengthen us at home, ensure our long-term prosperity, and such and such.
I am reminded of those heady days on the Dean campaign when we were trying to select our campaign song. We didn't do anything this witty. We just put a thread on the blog and asked people to post their favorites. My favorite response was to Christina Aguilera's "Fighter" to which a Deaniac said, "That girl gives me a sexual disease just by watching her on TV."
Yup, those were our supporters.
But this is not about me, or all of the cool stuff I've done. Let's get back to the Hillary video. I think it's a great send-up. Also, the Johnny Sac cameo was brilliant. I can only hope that her fellow candidates bring the funny as well as she did.
They should also present a policy program that can help America regain her role in the world, strengthen us at home, ensure our long-term prosperity, and such and such.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Dog Days
The dull drudgery of work-a-day academia is starting to get to me. Don't get me wrong, I love my job, it affords me all kinds of time to do things like this, prattling on about nothing in particular. It also affords me the opportunity to continue my ridiculous, neverending and fruitless job search. (By the way, if any of you are hiring, or know someone who is...) But it's making me feel like I'm in a routine, and not one I want to be in.
I have to break it.
I started today with a large bucket at the driving range. But my life is starting to seem like one endless commute. Now, everyone reading this post who is employed just started playing the world's smallest violin for me. But it's true. All I do is drive back and forth to Medford (I mean, come on, frickin' MEDFORD!) to a boring job at a University I pretty much detest.
And yet, it's summer in New England. The trees are green, the sun is hot (occasionally) and the Red Sox are winning. What more do I need?
That's the problem. I just don't know.
I have to break it.
I started today with a large bucket at the driving range. But my life is starting to seem like one endless commute. Now, everyone reading this post who is employed just started playing the world's smallest violin for me. But it's true. All I do is drive back and forth to Medford (I mean, come on, frickin' MEDFORD!) to a boring job at a University I pretty much detest.
And yet, it's summer in New England. The trees are green, the sun is hot (occasionally) and the Red Sox are winning. What more do I need?
That's the problem. I just don't know.
Thursday, June 14, 2007
Top Chef is Back. So am I.
I haven't written in a month or so. Here's a quick update.
I went to the farm.
I went to New York.
I work everyday at Tufts.
I still do not have a rest of my life job.
Anyone who is still wondering why I haven't written anything recently, that's why. I'm just boring. However, Top Chef is never boring, and the new season kicked off last night with a bang. It is, as yet, hard to get a read on the competitors generally, because with fifteen of them going head to head last night in only an hour, only the best and the worst were memorable.
That said, I think it's obvious that the judges made the right decision last night. Sending Howie or Brian home over failures of executing on time were not warranted. They proved they can cook, maybe not win the show (although, if Howie pulls his act together, don't be surprised if he hangs around for a while), but at least be competitive.
What was plain and simple was that Clay was in WAY over his head. I mean, he was competing against the executive sous chef from Jean-F'ing-Georges! He fried a fish tail as the signature part of his meal. I'm surprised he didn't serve his ridiculously overdone and cold wild boar ribs with a side of grits from a box. Though, that may have added flavor and texture, which seemed to be missing from his dish. The bottom line is, that challenge was hard, but at least 10 other chefs rose to it. Clay, for reasons passing understanding, thought he could play it safe and move on. I mean, really, par-cooking wild boar? Really? Really.
Apart from Clay, everyone did very well with the challenge, though a few stood out as prohibitive favorites after week one.
Tre: Well, I mean, obviously. He won the challenge, both Ilan and Harold won the first challenge as well. He seems to have excellent chops - I was actually salivating when he plated that ostrich for the judges - and his competitive edge should help him ride the ups and downs of the competition. He probably won't rest on his laurels after his good first impression, and that should suit him well. If he continues to compete at this level, he will at least make the final, if not win.
Hung: He's Marcel's friend and colleague, so I am very cautious here. He also markets himself as a certified asshole, and nothing I saw last night would dissuade me of that notion. But the boy can cook. Unlike Marcel, he understands that incorporating molecular techniques into soulful cooking is where good avant garde food lies. Hung may set himself apart from the group both with his skills and attitude, and I wouldn't be at all surprised to see him survive for many a week.
Sara N.: The Jamaican-bred executive chef stood out for her tasty combinations in both the quickfire, which by the way, was really ridiculous, and probably threw a lot of people off, and at the judges' table. It remains to be seen just how far she can branch out from her Caribbean roots, but she seems quite well rounded. She may be a force to be reckoned with down the road.
Lia: Can you say ringer? She would probably have 3 Michelin Stars on principle if she ever opened her own restaurant. She is in a competition against people who are unsure of the concept of amuse-bouche. Watch out, even if she couldn't french her wild boar ribs correctly on the fly.
Micah: Of all the dishes prepared, her quickfire offering of "Sushi" Under the Tuscan Sun was the most appetizing. It was the perfect amuse-bouche: one bite, quirky, tasty. She probably didn't bring it as hard in the main challenge knowing she was safe. Amidst the Tres of the world here, she has to be careful about that. But if she can pull it together and be consistent, I believe her chops are just as good as anyone's and the fiery personality they allude to in the scenes from down the road may help her.
I went to the farm.
I went to New York.
I work everyday at Tufts.
I still do not have a rest of my life job.
Anyone who is still wondering why I haven't written anything recently, that's why. I'm just boring. However, Top Chef is never boring, and the new season kicked off last night with a bang. It is, as yet, hard to get a read on the competitors generally, because with fifteen of them going head to head last night in only an hour, only the best and the worst were memorable.
That said, I think it's obvious that the judges made the right decision last night. Sending Howie or Brian home over failures of executing on time were not warranted. They proved they can cook, maybe not win the show (although, if Howie pulls his act together, don't be surprised if he hangs around for a while), but at least be competitive.
What was plain and simple was that Clay was in WAY over his head. I mean, he was competing against the executive sous chef from Jean-F'ing-Georges! He fried a fish tail as the signature part of his meal. I'm surprised he didn't serve his ridiculously overdone and cold wild boar ribs with a side of grits from a box. Though, that may have added flavor and texture, which seemed to be missing from his dish. The bottom line is, that challenge was hard, but at least 10 other chefs rose to it. Clay, for reasons passing understanding, thought he could play it safe and move on. I mean, really, par-cooking wild boar? Really? Really.
Apart from Clay, everyone did very well with the challenge, though a few stood out as prohibitive favorites after week one.
Tre: Well, I mean, obviously. He won the challenge, both Ilan and Harold won the first challenge as well. He seems to have excellent chops - I was actually salivating when he plated that ostrich for the judges - and his competitive edge should help him ride the ups and downs of the competition. He probably won't rest on his laurels after his good first impression, and that should suit him well. If he continues to compete at this level, he will at least make the final, if not win.
Hung: He's Marcel's friend and colleague, so I am very cautious here. He also markets himself as a certified asshole, and nothing I saw last night would dissuade me of that notion. But the boy can cook. Unlike Marcel, he understands that incorporating molecular techniques into soulful cooking is where good avant garde food lies. Hung may set himself apart from the group both with his skills and attitude, and I wouldn't be at all surprised to see him survive for many a week.
Sara N.: The Jamaican-bred executive chef stood out for her tasty combinations in both the quickfire, which by the way, was really ridiculous, and probably threw a lot of people off, and at the judges' table. It remains to be seen just how far she can branch out from her Caribbean roots, but she seems quite well rounded. She may be a force to be reckoned with down the road.
Lia: Can you say ringer? She would probably have 3 Michelin Stars on principle if she ever opened her own restaurant. She is in a competition against people who are unsure of the concept of amuse-bouche. Watch out, even if she couldn't french her wild boar ribs correctly on the fly.
Micah: Of all the dishes prepared, her quickfire offering of "Sushi" Under the Tuscan Sun was the most appetizing. It was the perfect amuse-bouche: one bite, quirky, tasty. She probably didn't bring it as hard in the main challenge knowing she was safe. Amidst the Tres of the world here, she has to be careful about that. But if she can pull it together and be consistent, I believe her chops are just as good as anyone's and the fiery personality they allude to in the scenes from down the road may help her.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
The Gates of Hell
"You can stand me up at the gates of hell/But I won't back down"
- Tom Petty
Tonight, Dad and I ventured out to Yankee Stadium to see our beloved Red Sox take on the hated Yankees. Now, as neither one of us had ever been to the Toilet before, being in New York, we decided to avail ourselves of some day-of-game seats (we'll get back to that in a moment) and jump on the 4 Train and make the journey to Da Bronx. As the elevated train lurched toward the hulking beast on the East River, I mentioned to my father, "You ever feel like you were on a Landing Craft about to take Juno Beach?"
I didn't wear a hat, or a t-shirt or a jersey, or anything that would denote me as a member of the opposition. Although, had I done so, I would not have been alone. The first surprising thing to me was exactly how many Red Sox fans, in full regalia I might add, were there with us. In my section - Main Reserved 1, BEHIND HOME PLATE - there were at least 10 of us. And though we were, may times, drowned out by the drunken birthday party in the next row, we still got a few "Let's Go Red Sox" chants out with nary a battery thrown.
And from Manny's home run to Tavarez's effective pitching, throughout the game, I came to be even less enamored of Yankee fans than before. The "fans" in the expensive seats were just vindictive. I mean, I probably would be too if my team was getting its collective ass served up every night, and my owner was paying through the nose for team that probably won't win eighty games. The difference between me and the typical Yankee fan, however, is that I get the references I just made. They wouldn't. They also did not take kindly to our playful needling. Maybe it was because they were just rude, maybe it's because they can't exactly think of a comeback right now. But either way, when one slightly inebriated fan shouted "Hey, Coco Crisp, I ate you for breakfast today!" and thought highly of himself, I just let it go.
On the A train coming back to Times Square, I summed the evening up to my dad. "Well, now they can never say we didn't walk into the lion's den. And we also never have to do it again." I stood my ground. I watched my team win in a hostile environment. And I didn't back down.
- Tom Petty
Tonight, Dad and I ventured out to Yankee Stadium to see our beloved Red Sox take on the hated Yankees. Now, as neither one of us had ever been to the Toilet before, being in New York, we decided to avail ourselves of some day-of-game seats (we'll get back to that in a moment) and jump on the 4 Train and make the journey to Da Bronx. As the elevated train lurched toward the hulking beast on the East River, I mentioned to my father, "You ever feel like you were on a Landing Craft about to take Juno Beach?"
I didn't wear a hat, or a t-shirt or a jersey, or anything that would denote me as a member of the opposition. Although, had I done so, I would not have been alone. The first surprising thing to me was exactly how many Red Sox fans, in full regalia I might add, were there with us. In my section - Main Reserved 1, BEHIND HOME PLATE - there were at least 10 of us. And though we were, may times, drowned out by the drunken birthday party in the next row, we still got a few "Let's Go Red Sox" chants out with nary a battery thrown.
And from Manny's home run to Tavarez's effective pitching, throughout the game, I came to be even less enamored of Yankee fans than before. The "fans" in the expensive seats were just vindictive. I mean, I probably would be too if my team was getting its collective ass served up every night, and my owner was paying through the nose for team that probably won't win eighty games. The difference between me and the typical Yankee fan, however, is that I get the references I just made. They wouldn't. They also did not take kindly to our playful needling. Maybe it was because they were just rude, maybe it's because they can't exactly think of a comeback right now. But either way, when one slightly inebriated fan shouted "Hey, Coco Crisp, I ate you for breakfast today!" and thought highly of himself, I just let it go.
On the A train coming back to Times Square, I summed the evening up to my dad. "Well, now they can never say we didn't walk into the lion's den. And we also never have to do it again." I stood my ground. I watched my team win in a hostile environment. And I didn't back down.
Thursday, May 10, 2007
Thirsty Thursday: 2005 Perrin Reserve, Cotes-du-Rhone, France
Summer has come to New England. So it's time to start reviewing some lighter wines. These are wines you can enjoy on one of those lazy summer nights, when the sea air kicks up in the afternoon and cools down the heat of the day. Something to pop open on the porch with some grilled fish, or just in anticipation of the long, summer sunset. Tonight, we're featuring a rose. And it's in a screwcap bottle. But lord strike me down, it was good wine. Seriously, don't be afraid of pink wine. Except for white zin. If I catch you drinking that stuff, I'll hunt you down. Or just call you out on this blog, whichever is easier.
And now, on to the notes!
The bright strawberry nose mimics the beautiful light red color in the glass. The palate boasts light raspberry flavors which while not as tight or controlled as one might hope are still flavorful and lush, with just a touch of spice from the addition of syrah in the traditional regional blend. The light finish is reminiscent of a cool, calm summer night, with the flavors returning for a few seconds as the taste drifts off into the sunset.
Overall: 90, Purchased at Cape Ann Liquors, Gloucester, MA, $9.99
And now, on to the notes!
The bright strawberry nose mimics the beautiful light red color in the glass. The palate boasts light raspberry flavors which while not as tight or controlled as one might hope are still flavorful and lush, with just a touch of spice from the addition of syrah in the traditional regional blend. The light finish is reminiscent of a cool, calm summer night, with the flavors returning for a few seconds as the taste drifts off into the sunset.
Overall: 90, Purchased at Cape Ann Liquors, Gloucester, MA, $9.99
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
The End of the Beginning
I walked out the door and as the hot New England sun glinted off my face I realized that there was to be no fanfare, no momentous feeling, none of that. It was a distinctly odd feeling, but rewarding all the same.
At 2pm this afternoon, I walked out of the Political Science department in Eaton Hall, having just dropped off my very last assignment to be completed in anticipation of my Bachelor of Arts degree at Tufts University. With that simple act, done on my way to work, I finished the five-year odyssey of college.
It didn't happen the way I always envisioned that it would. Graduation will take care of the pomp and circumstance, but all I had this afternoon was the knowledge that I had completed something, and done it well. There is a tendency to get sentimental at this time in a man's life, of challenges met, of obstacles overcome, and of a life ready to begin. But in this moment, knowing that work for the preparation for that life is complete, there is only satisfaction in a thing done well.
What's next?
At 2pm this afternoon, I walked out of the Political Science department in Eaton Hall, having just dropped off my very last assignment to be completed in anticipation of my Bachelor of Arts degree at Tufts University. With that simple act, done on my way to work, I finished the five-year odyssey of college.
It didn't happen the way I always envisioned that it would. Graduation will take care of the pomp and circumstance, but all I had this afternoon was the knowledge that I had completed something, and done it well. There is a tendency to get sentimental at this time in a man's life, of challenges met, of obstacles overcome, and of a life ready to begin. But in this moment, knowing that work for the preparation for that life is complete, there is only satisfaction in a thing done well.
What's next?
Thursday, May 03, 2007
Thirsty Thursday: 2002 Eos "The French Connection" (Proprietary Blend), Paso Robles, California
I'm sorry I've been a blog delinquent lately. I've been busy trying to graduate from college. I'm in the midst of writing a 20-page paper, my very last assignment before getting a diploma, on the merits of regional integration in West Africa. With 9 pages already written, I'm settling down to watch Daisuke pitch at home and thought I'd pass on another wine review.
I actually picked this wine up last weekend, celebrating the completion of my two toughest exams of the semester. Okay, to be fair, only one of them was tough. But I still wanted to celebrate, and what I found with Eos was a smooth wine with lots of body and rich flavors.
Here are the notes:
Blackberries dominate the nose and remain a main feature on the palate. The fruit forward palate is rather languid, even subdued, with a lot of smoothness in the mouth. The fruit notes of raspberries and ripe cherries are lovingly accented by a taste of cedar. The finish is mild and smooth again with mint an more cedar flavors rounding out this very balanced wine.
Overall: 89, Purchased at Cambridge Wine and Spirits, Fresh Pond, Cambridge, MA, $19.99
I actually picked this wine up last weekend, celebrating the completion of my two toughest exams of the semester. Okay, to be fair, only one of them was tough. But I still wanted to celebrate, and what I found with Eos was a smooth wine with lots of body and rich flavors.
Here are the notes:
Blackberries dominate the nose and remain a main feature on the palate. The fruit forward palate is rather languid, even subdued, with a lot of smoothness in the mouth. The fruit notes of raspberries and ripe cherries are lovingly accented by a taste of cedar. The finish is mild and smooth again with mint an more cedar flavors rounding out this very balanced wine.
Overall: 89, Purchased at Cambridge Wine and Spirits, Fresh Pond, Cambridge, MA, $19.99
Friday, April 27, 2007
It Was Blood
Big news out of Red Sox Nation this week. No, it's not that we're in first place in a division that is getting rapidly weaker as our bats are coming out of their winter slumber, or the fact that The Dais-Man is making his first start at the Toilet tonight, or that Josh Beckett now has 5 wins from 5 starts. No, this week, we focused on whether Curt Schilling painted his sock in the 2004 ALCS to make it look like he was bleeding.
And why are focused on this "story?" Because new Orioles announcer Gary Thorne is a delightfully ignorant asshat who apparently couldn't pick sarcasm out of a crowded room with two hands and a flashlight. Thorne was chatting in the Red Sox clubhouse before yesterday's game with Doug "Cassus Belli" Mirabelli about summary topics which are probably not that interesting when Dougie Who Hits Bombs volunteered the "information" about the Sock which turned Schilling into both a baseball god and a folk hero.
Then, of course, every other ninny sportswriter, not having any copy to actually put in a paper yesterday, picked up the story and it blew out of control.
In response, Schilling has posted a reaction on his blog, 38 Pitches. Here's my favorite part:
"If you have the nuts, or the guts, grab an orthopedic surgeon, have them suture your ankle skin down to the tissue covering the bone in your ankle joint, then walk around for 4 hours. After that go find a mound, throw a hundred or so pitches, run over, cover first a few times. When you’re done check that ankle and see if it bleeds. It will."
I mean, how ballsy is that? Seriously. So, Gary Thorne, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
And why are focused on this "story?" Because new Orioles announcer Gary Thorne is a delightfully ignorant asshat who apparently couldn't pick sarcasm out of a crowded room with two hands and a flashlight. Thorne was chatting in the Red Sox clubhouse before yesterday's game with Doug "Cassus Belli" Mirabelli about summary topics which are probably not that interesting when Dougie Who Hits Bombs volunteered the "information" about the Sock which turned Schilling into both a baseball god and a folk hero.
Then, of course, every other ninny sportswriter, not having any copy to actually put in a paper yesterday, picked up the story and it blew out of control.
In response, Schilling has posted a reaction on his blog, 38 Pitches. Here's my favorite part:
"If you have the nuts, or the guts, grab an orthopedic surgeon, have them suture your ankle skin down to the tissue covering the bone in your ankle joint, then walk around for 4 hours. After that go find a mound, throw a hundred or so pitches, run over, cover first a few times. When you’re done check that ankle and see if it bleeds. It will."
I mean, how ballsy is that? Seriously. So, Gary Thorne, put that in your pipe and smoke it.
Saturday, April 21, 2007
People are Creative (Or: Why I Love YouTube)
The Mii Lebowski.
Hilarious.
Also, this is why I love Mystery Science Theater 3000:
Anyway, I'm off to the Sox-Yanks at Fenway. You can be relatively sure there'll be a post about it later. Hopefully not involving any Yankee fans running afoul of "Punch Sideiron" or "Big McLargehuge."
Hilarious.
Also, this is why I love Mystery Science Theater 3000:
Anyway, I'm off to the Sox-Yanks at Fenway. You can be relatively sure there'll be a post about it later. Hopefully not involving any Yankee fans running afoul of "Punch Sideiron" or "Big McLargehuge."
Friday, April 20, 2007
Thirsty Thursday: 2001 Paul Jaboulet Ainé, Beaumes-de-Venise, Côtes-du-Rhône Villages, France
As we draw this exceptionally long and tiring week to a close, it's time for another wine review. I decided to go back to basics this week, and take a look at an affordable wine from one of the Motherland of Wine's oldest and most storied regions, the Rhone Valley.
Here are the notes.
Faint nose is met by a smooth palate, both of which are dominated by vanilla spice with fruit only barely noticeable. Good concentration of flavors after the wine opens up a little (at six years in the bottle and 14% alcohol, this wine will need 20 minutes or so before its drinkable...learned that lesson the hard way), but the astringent nature of the wine still tends to mask the flavors which seem overly soft. The finish is barely there, and seems to evaporate almost immediately.
Overall: 84, Purchased at Cambridge Wine and Spirits, Fresh Pond, Cambridge, MA. $11.99 on sale.
Here are the notes.
Faint nose is met by a smooth palate, both of which are dominated by vanilla spice with fruit only barely noticeable. Good concentration of flavors after the wine opens up a little (at six years in the bottle and 14% alcohol, this wine will need 20 minutes or so before its drinkable...learned that lesson the hard way), but the astringent nature of the wine still tends to mask the flavors which seem overly soft. The finish is barely there, and seems to evaporate almost immediately.
Overall: 84, Purchased at Cambridge Wine and Spirits, Fresh Pond, Cambridge, MA. $11.99 on sale.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
We Are Virginia Tech
I wasn't able to catch all of today's convocation in Blacksburg, I had to work on a project for the balance of the afternoon. In one of my breaks, however, I flipped over to CNN's coverage just in time to hear Nikki Giovanni, the noted poet and English professor at Virginia Tech deliver an incredibly moving, and powerful work to the community gathered there. Let me put it this way, anytime you can make an arena full of people in the darkest depths of their mourning and shock and sadness stand up, clap their hands and affirm at the top of their lungs who they are, you're doing your job.
---
We are Virginia Tech. We are sad today, and we will be sad for quite a while. We are not moving on. We are embracing our mourning. We are Virginia Tech.
We are strong enough to stand tall tearlessly. We are brave enough to bend to cry, and sad enough to know we must laugh again. We are Virginia Tech. We do not understand this tragedy. We know we did nothing to deserve it. But neither does a child in Africa dying of AIDS. Neither do the invisible children walking the night away to avoid being captured by a rogue army.
Neither does the baby elephant watching his community being devastated for ivory. Neither does the Mexican child looking for fresh water. Neither does the Appalachian infant killed in the middle of the night in his crib in the home his father built with his own hands, being run over by a boulder because the land was destabilized.
No one deserves a tragedy. We are Virginia Tech. The Hokie nation embraces our own and reaches out with open heart and hand to those who offer their hearts and minds. We are strong and brave and innocent and unafraid. We are better than we think and not quite what we want to be.
We are alive to the imagination and the possibility we will continue to invent the future through our blood and tears, through all this sadness.
We are the Hokies.
We will prevail.
We will prevail.
We will prevail.
We are Virginia Tech.
---
We are Virginia Tech. We are sad today, and we will be sad for quite a while. We are not moving on. We are embracing our mourning. We are Virginia Tech.
We are strong enough to stand tall tearlessly. We are brave enough to bend to cry, and sad enough to know we must laugh again. We are Virginia Tech. We do not understand this tragedy. We know we did nothing to deserve it. But neither does a child in Africa dying of AIDS. Neither do the invisible children walking the night away to avoid being captured by a rogue army.
Neither does the baby elephant watching his community being devastated for ivory. Neither does the Mexican child looking for fresh water. Neither does the Appalachian infant killed in the middle of the night in his crib in the home his father built with his own hands, being run over by a boulder because the land was destabilized.
No one deserves a tragedy. We are Virginia Tech. The Hokie nation embraces our own and reaches out with open heart and hand to those who offer their hearts and minds. We are strong and brave and innocent and unafraid. We are better than we think and not quite what we want to be.
We are alive to the imagination and the possibility we will continue to invent the future through our blood and tears, through all this sadness.
We are the Hokies.
We will prevail.
We will prevail.
We will prevail.
We are Virginia Tech.
Monday, April 16, 2007
Blacksburg
We still don't know all the details of what happened this morning on the campus of Virginia Tech. What we do know is that this morning's incident was a tragedy of massive proportions that will affect this nation for years to come. The worst part may yet be, however, the thought that any of us in college could have been those students in Norris Hall.
We don't know, and it's easy to second guess the response of the University administration and police at this point without all the facts, but we do not know if this horror could have been prevented. College campuses are an open place, where young people come and go as they please, as they should. But that allows for the possibility that situations like today could take place. That someone acting alone could take over a building and empty a magazine of bullets and reign destruction and terror down upon innocent students.
And then reload.
And reload again.
And again.
But today is not a day to talk about campus security. Or gun control. Or the culture of cyclical violence in America. Those are important debates. And as this is America, we will have them. But we will have them tomorrow and the next day and beyond.
Today, we must remember the dead and help give strength to the living. Because they endured a scene of unimaginable terror, one that no one should ever face. My heart, and I hope those of all Americans and especially those of fellow students, is in Blacksburg tonight.
We don't know, and it's easy to second guess the response of the University administration and police at this point without all the facts, but we do not know if this horror could have been prevented. College campuses are an open place, where young people come and go as they please, as they should. But that allows for the possibility that situations like today could take place. That someone acting alone could take over a building and empty a magazine of bullets and reign destruction and terror down upon innocent students.
And then reload.
And reload again.
And again.
But today is not a day to talk about campus security. Or gun control. Or the culture of cyclical violence in America. Those are important debates. And as this is America, we will have them. But we will have them tomorrow and the next day and beyond.
Today, we must remember the dead and help give strength to the living. Because they endured a scene of unimaginable terror, one that no one should ever face. My heart, and I hope those of all Americans and especially those of fellow students, is in Blacksburg tonight.
Friday, April 06, 2007
Thirsty Thursday: 2004 Kumkani Pinotage, Stellenbosch, South Africa
Yes, I know it's Friday morning. But the title remains. If you're having lamb for Easter, this wine would be magnificent. Or, if you're just looking for something to sip on this cold New England weekend, this wine would do well in that endeavor as well. I wish I had discovered this wine while I was in South Africa, so that I could have visited the vineyard in Stellenbosch. Alas, I didn't, so I suppose I'll have to go back. Anyway, the notes:
The first thing I noticed about this wine was the excellent color concentration. Brilliant, shimmering maroon color in the glass with salmon ring when tipped. The nose and palate have delightful hints of raspberry and other summer berry flavors which add lightness to the earthy backbone of the Pinotage grape. The taste is well balanced across the palate, and the finish seems to linger for hours, as you bask in the warm glow of this light-bodied yet hearty wine.
Overall: 94, Purchased at Cambridge Wine and Spirits (formerly Mall Discount Liquors), Fresh Pond, Cambridge, $14.99.
The first thing I noticed about this wine was the excellent color concentration. Brilliant, shimmering maroon color in the glass with salmon ring when tipped. The nose and palate have delightful hints of raspberry and other summer berry flavors which add lightness to the earthy backbone of the Pinotage grape. The taste is well balanced across the palate, and the finish seems to linger for hours, as you bask in the warm glow of this light-bodied yet hearty wine.
Overall: 94, Purchased at Cambridge Wine and Spirits (formerly Mall Discount Liquors), Fresh Pond, Cambridge, $14.99.
Thursday, April 05, 2007
XBox Hero (With Stars in My Eyes)
I bought an XBox last night. It was an impulse buy, but I challenge any of you to not do the same thing. My roommate Jon's friend called him up, offering his XBox for $50 as he needed to buy some peripherals for his new Wii. Jon, being an idiot, passed on the offer. So I made it my business to jump at it.
Now, on the face of it, $50 for an XBox is a steal. But this ain't no ordinary XBox. No, the kid selling it is a tech guru who got the thing modified so that it has a 60GB hard drive which can download any XBox game on to it and have forever. It came packed with MVP Baseball 2005, Rugby 2005, Tony Hawk 3 and a bunch of other stuff. Oh yeah, and it has emulators so I can play games going back to old school Nintendo.
This purchase is one of, if not the best, I have ever made. And yes, I may never leave the house again.
Now, on the face of it, $50 for an XBox is a steal. But this ain't no ordinary XBox. No, the kid selling it is a tech guru who got the thing modified so that it has a 60GB hard drive which can download any XBox game on to it and have forever. It came packed with MVP Baseball 2005, Rugby 2005, Tony Hawk 3 and a bunch of other stuff. Oh yeah, and it has emulators so I can play games going back to old school Nintendo.
This purchase is one of, if not the best, I have ever made. And yes, I may never leave the house again.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
For What It's Worth: A Final Four Preview
I should mention right from the outset that if things don't go my way tonight, I will lose my Facebook pool to a guinea pig.
That's right, my asshat roommate decided to have some fun and have Mimosa, the house guinea pig, make selections for the NCAA Tournament. Now, some of Mimosa's picks were off base - she did have Oral Roberts in the Elite 8 - but a lot of them were on point. The crux of the discussion is this: Because I have terrible luck, and overthink almost all of my picks at Tournament time, if Ohio State wins tonight, I will lose to Mimosa. Here's to hoping that doesn't happen. So now, here's how the games breakdown, as I see it.
(2) Georgetown vs. (1) Ohio State
This game should be one for the ages. There are not two better matched teams in the entire tournament. And, it's the first game of the night, so the first half should be fairly slow, keeping the game close. It is going to be a battle of the big men, and we will see if both Greg Oden and Roy Hibbert can stay out of foul trouble. If that part of the game gets disrupted, Ohio State wins going away on the strength of guard play led by Mike Conley, Jr. However, I believe that Hibbert will have the presence of mind to play Oden close, perhaps even drawing a couple fouls off him, while staying out of trouble himself. That will allow him and Patrick Ewing, Jr. to control the tempo and Georgetown to eke out a close victory late in the game. And, seriously, I'm not just picking against the Guinea Pig.
Prediction: Georgetown 82, Ohio State 78.
(1) Florida vs. (2) UCLA
There are a lot of "if's" here for UCLA. IF Afflalo stays hot, and IF the inside game doesn't get too disrupted by Al Horford and Joakim Noah, and IF other guys can pick up the perimeter shooting, then UCLA is probably the best team in the country right now. However, IF one of those aforementioned possibilities doesn't come through, the Gators will win going away. The fact of the matter is that UCLA was overmatched against Kansas and came out on top, and IF that same team shows up tonight, they'll play for the national title on Monday. I believe that team will show and the Gators will - FINALLY! - be shut down.
Prediction: UCLA 71, Florida 65.
That's right, my asshat roommate decided to have some fun and have Mimosa, the house guinea pig, make selections for the NCAA Tournament. Now, some of Mimosa's picks were off base - she did have Oral Roberts in the Elite 8 - but a lot of them were on point. The crux of the discussion is this: Because I have terrible luck, and overthink almost all of my picks at Tournament time, if Ohio State wins tonight, I will lose to Mimosa. Here's to hoping that doesn't happen. So now, here's how the games breakdown, as I see it.
(2) Georgetown vs. (1) Ohio State
This game should be one for the ages. There are not two better matched teams in the entire tournament. And, it's the first game of the night, so the first half should be fairly slow, keeping the game close. It is going to be a battle of the big men, and we will see if both Greg Oden and Roy Hibbert can stay out of foul trouble. If that part of the game gets disrupted, Ohio State wins going away on the strength of guard play led by Mike Conley, Jr. However, I believe that Hibbert will have the presence of mind to play Oden close, perhaps even drawing a couple fouls off him, while staying out of trouble himself. That will allow him and Patrick Ewing, Jr. to control the tempo and Georgetown to eke out a close victory late in the game. And, seriously, I'm not just picking against the Guinea Pig.
Prediction: Georgetown 82, Ohio State 78.
(1) Florida vs. (2) UCLA
There are a lot of "if's" here for UCLA. IF Afflalo stays hot, and IF the inside game doesn't get too disrupted by Al Horford and Joakim Noah, and IF other guys can pick up the perimeter shooting, then UCLA is probably the best team in the country right now. However, IF one of those aforementioned possibilities doesn't come through, the Gators will win going away. The fact of the matter is that UCLA was overmatched against Kansas and came out on top, and IF that same team shows up tonight, they'll play for the national title on Monday. I believe that team will show and the Gators will - FINALLY! - be shut down.
Prediction: UCLA 71, Florida 65.
Friday, March 30, 2007
Brooklyn Pizza Gossip
Last night, I had one of the great experiences of my life, and not only because it allowed to love Tufts University by hating Tufts University. Mike Doughty (which, if you are not familiar with his work by now, you, sir or madam, are simply not paying attention to me) graced Walnut Hill with his presence for the rather conspicuously titled "Jumbo Jam" held in Dewick-MacPhie Dining Hall.
That's right, one of the great poets and musicians of our generation, a man tortured by genius and drug abuse (though fastidiously living the clean life these days, and making better music for it) played in the very same place where I have been eating PB&J sandwiches to cure hangovers for the last five years. Concert Board, however, is some combination of Lo-Fi and Bush League. By the time Doughty, clad in what he described as a "clean" shirt, and old school DC kicks, and Andrew "Scrap" Livingston took the stage at 9:30 there were less than forty people in the room. This mostly due to the fact that Concert Board kept this show a closely guarded secret. Seriously, you wouldn't have known this show was even happening unless you happened to see the ONE advert they placed in the Tufts Daily. Their shortcomings were enunciated by a skeptical Doughty who took the stage and thanked us for the invite to "Jumbo Jam" informing us that since we brought the Jumbo, he would bring the Jam. Thank god he didn't phone it in.
The show opened with "Put It Down" one of Doughty's newest concoctions, a song which needed some tightening to be sure, but has a lot of promise. I can't wait to hear it on the new record. He and Scrap then launched into a grab bag of his greatest hits, reaching all the way back to Ruby Vroom with True Dreams of Wichita and later Janine, along with some of his solo greatness with selections like Thank You, Lord, For Sending Me The F Train and Madeline and Nine. The set was action packed and pleasing to the superfan like me, despite the fact that my demands for a rendition of "Firetruck" were not met.
But, it was after being asked where the rest of the band was that the show got real interesting. He made a joke that Scrap had eaten them. Now, this joke brought in a new wrinkle. Doughty had mentioned several time on his blog (which is linked on the blogroll) that he and his bandmates - including the aforementioned man of mystery, Mr. Livingston - enjoyed the pizza at Brooklyn institution DiFara's. In the course of my blog reading last week, I came upon an article at SliceNY saying that DiFara's had been shut down, apparently for health code violations. It later turned out those violations had to do with rat feces being found in the food prep area. Anyway, cut back to the show, James decides to shout to the stage, in reply to the Scrap eating the band joke that Scrap was hungry because he couldn't get a slice at DiFara's as it was closed. Doughty laughed, and said "No, I think it's open." At this point, since no one else in the room was really paying attention, Mike Doughty and I start having a conversation. It is reproduced below, in its entirety:
Me: "Oh, really? Did they reopen it?"
Doughty: "What? RE-open?"
Me: "Yeah, the Board of Health shut it down."
Doughty: (obviously shocked and horrified) "WHAT!?!?"
Me: "Yeah, two weeks ago."
(Insert a very uneasy look between Scrap and Doughty here)
Doughty: (realizing the audience is still in the room) "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sorry, I need to engage in some Brooklyn pizza gossip."
We then agreed we would talk more about it after the show.
So, when Doughty was done with his masterful set, punctuated by Looking at the World From The Bottom of the Well, James and I stuck around to give him more information about DiFara's. He was agog to learn. Scrap was mortified, saying to me "I eat there like every day when I'm in Brooklyn." And Doughty informed me that he would google the incident as soon as he got back to Brooklyn.
Anyway, that was my brush with fame. I shook both their hands and thanked them for a great set as they headed back to Brooklyn to celebrate Scrap's daughter, Larry, and her birthday. In a way, I feel like I know what it must have been like for Bernie Gilmore, my old College Bowl advisor, when, at Yale in the early '80s, informed a young woman on the quad that President Reagan had been shot. That young lady was Jodie Foster, the object of affection for John Hinckley, and the point behind his rampage.
In any case, it was a great show. Zox followed. They were really terrible. And Concert Board made me remember why I hate this university so very, very much.
That's right, one of the great poets and musicians of our generation, a man tortured by genius and drug abuse (though fastidiously living the clean life these days, and making better music for it) played in the very same place where I have been eating PB&J sandwiches to cure hangovers for the last five years. Concert Board, however, is some combination of Lo-Fi and Bush League. By the time Doughty, clad in what he described as a "clean" shirt, and old school DC kicks, and Andrew "Scrap" Livingston took the stage at 9:30 there were less than forty people in the room. This mostly due to the fact that Concert Board kept this show a closely guarded secret. Seriously, you wouldn't have known this show was even happening unless you happened to see the ONE advert they placed in the Tufts Daily. Their shortcomings were enunciated by a skeptical Doughty who took the stage and thanked us for the invite to "Jumbo Jam" informing us that since we brought the Jumbo, he would bring the Jam. Thank god he didn't phone it in.
The show opened with "Put It Down" one of Doughty's newest concoctions, a song which needed some tightening to be sure, but has a lot of promise. I can't wait to hear it on the new record. He and Scrap then launched into a grab bag of his greatest hits, reaching all the way back to Ruby Vroom with True Dreams of Wichita and later Janine, along with some of his solo greatness with selections like Thank You, Lord, For Sending Me The F Train and Madeline and Nine. The set was action packed and pleasing to the superfan like me, despite the fact that my demands for a rendition of "Firetruck" were not met.
But, it was after being asked where the rest of the band was that the show got real interesting. He made a joke that Scrap had eaten them. Now, this joke brought in a new wrinkle. Doughty had mentioned several time on his blog (which is linked on the blogroll) that he and his bandmates - including the aforementioned man of mystery, Mr. Livingston - enjoyed the pizza at Brooklyn institution DiFara's. In the course of my blog reading last week, I came upon an article at SliceNY saying that DiFara's had been shut down, apparently for health code violations. It later turned out those violations had to do with rat feces being found in the food prep area. Anyway, cut back to the show, James decides to shout to the stage, in reply to the Scrap eating the band joke that Scrap was hungry because he couldn't get a slice at DiFara's as it was closed. Doughty laughed, and said "No, I think it's open." At this point, since no one else in the room was really paying attention, Mike Doughty and I start having a conversation. It is reproduced below, in its entirety:
Me: "Oh, really? Did they reopen it?"
Doughty: "What? RE-open?"
Me: "Yeah, the Board of Health shut it down."
Doughty: (obviously shocked and horrified) "WHAT!?!?"
Me: "Yeah, two weeks ago."
(Insert a very uneasy look between Scrap and Doughty here)
Doughty: (realizing the audience is still in the room) "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm sorry, I need to engage in some Brooklyn pizza gossip."
We then agreed we would talk more about it after the show.
So, when Doughty was done with his masterful set, punctuated by Looking at the World From The Bottom of the Well, James and I stuck around to give him more information about DiFara's. He was agog to learn. Scrap was mortified, saying to me "I eat there like every day when I'm in Brooklyn." And Doughty informed me that he would google the incident as soon as he got back to Brooklyn.
Anyway, that was my brush with fame. I shook both their hands and thanked them for a great set as they headed back to Brooklyn to celebrate Scrap's daughter, Larry, and her birthday. In a way, I feel like I know what it must have been like for Bernie Gilmore, my old College Bowl advisor, when, at Yale in the early '80s, informed a young woman on the quad that President Reagan had been shot. That young lady was Jodie Foster, the object of affection for John Hinckley, and the point behind his rampage.
In any case, it was a great show. Zox followed. They were really terrible. And Concert Board made me remember why I hate this university so very, very much.
Dropping the Ball
I'm going to have a much longer post later today (or tomorrow...or something) about what I did last night. Needless to say, it was AMAZING! But you will hear more about this later. Right now I need to focus some anger on Major League Baseball.
A story posted on Boston.com this morning shows why the organization of baseball has gone completely beyond the pale. Johnny Pesky, the man who actually embodies what it means to be a Boston Red Sox, a man who waited literally his entire life - he was born in 1919 - to see his team win a World Series, a man who has given his life to our Nation, is being barred by Major League Baseball from wearing a uniform and sitting in the dugout.
I still get tears in my eyes when I watch the video of Johnny Pesky, sitting in the clubhouse watching Keith Foulke stab a grounder from Edgar Renteria, and underhand it to Doug Mientkiewicz to bring the World Championship to Boston for the first time in 86 long years. Pesky himself had suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. For years, he was blamed - unjustly - for double-clutching on the relay throw which might have gotten Enos Slaughter at the plate and saved the Red Sox' chances of winning the 1946 World Series. He has spent literally the rest of his life making it up to Red Sox Nation. He hits fungoes in Spring Training. He is a mentor to young players, a skill which is invaluable even in today's game. And for years he has been the face of the organization.
Major League Baseball needs to get its head out of its ass on this one. They have been trying to get Pesky out of the dugout for years to little or no avail. The man is 88 years old. He should be treated like a national treasure for what he has done with his life, not given the bum's rush in the name of "rules and regulations."
P.S. I know I didn't do a wine review this week. My apologies.
A story posted on Boston.com this morning shows why the organization of baseball has gone completely beyond the pale. Johnny Pesky, the man who actually embodies what it means to be a Boston Red Sox, a man who waited literally his entire life - he was born in 1919 - to see his team win a World Series, a man who has given his life to our Nation, is being barred by Major League Baseball from wearing a uniform and sitting in the dugout.
I still get tears in my eyes when I watch the video of Johnny Pesky, sitting in the clubhouse watching Keith Foulke stab a grounder from Edgar Renteria, and underhand it to Doug Mientkiewicz to bring the World Championship to Boston for the first time in 86 long years. Pesky himself had suffered the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune. For years, he was blamed - unjustly - for double-clutching on the relay throw which might have gotten Enos Slaughter at the plate and saved the Red Sox' chances of winning the 1946 World Series. He has spent literally the rest of his life making it up to Red Sox Nation. He hits fungoes in Spring Training. He is a mentor to young players, a skill which is invaluable even in today's game. And for years he has been the face of the organization.
Major League Baseball needs to get its head out of its ass on this one. They have been trying to get Pesky out of the dugout for years to little or no avail. The man is 88 years old. He should be treated like a national treasure for what he has done with his life, not given the bum's rush in the name of "rules and regulations."
P.S. I know I didn't do a wine review this week. My apologies.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
Thirsty Thursday: 2005 Oyster Bay Pinot Noir, New Zealand
Well I have returned from New York to the friendly confines of Hillsdale Road in Medford and it's time for your weekly wine review. Usually I enjoy sitting back on a Thursday night, the bulk of my week's work at an end, and enjoy a fine glass of wine. Tonight however will be dominated by basketball and beer, so we're turning back the clock to Tuesday night when Luke, Jill, Megan and I watched American Idol at Luke's Upper East Side apartment with a few bottles of wine purchased around the corner. We decided not to keep Luke's usual tradition of wine drinking, and not break the bottle open on the street and drink with the hobos. Instead, we gathered around the old plasma screen with a bottle of NZ Pinot and watch Sanjaya caterwaul and make little girls cry, while we all sat gnashing our teeth in disbelief. Anyway, on to the review:
This wine was disappointing, as I'd heard a lot recently about Pinot gaining strength down under. Instead, we were met with a limp, flavorless offering with very few redeeming qualities. The nose was light and airy with barely a hint of berry flavors. The palate tastes were flat and disjointed with overbearing sensations of terroir. The finish was nearly non-existent and did not add anything the character of the wine.
Overall: 82, Purchased at Vintage Grape, 2nd Avenue at 84th Street, New York City, $15
This wine was disappointing, as I'd heard a lot recently about Pinot gaining strength down under. Instead, we were met with a limp, flavorless offering with very few redeeming qualities. The nose was light and airy with barely a hint of berry flavors. The palate tastes were flat and disjointed with overbearing sensations of terroir. The finish was nearly non-existent and did not add anything the character of the wine.
Overall: 82, Purchased at Vintage Grape, 2nd Avenue at 84th Street, New York City, $15
Monday, March 19, 2007
Mitt Romney: Buffoon
This lovely chestnut comes to us from the Miami Herald about the esteemed jackass former Governor of the Commonwealth Mitt Romney and his halting attempts to run for Vice President. It seems that in a speech given to the right-wing fanatical Cuban-American population of Miami, Romney closed his remarks by saying, "Patria o muerte, venceremos," a phrase which roughly translates to "Fatherland or death, we shall overcome."
Now, of course, just on the basis of sheer ridiculousness, this one takes the cake. However, even better than the prima facie explanation, Romney tried to explain his choice of words as speaking out against Venezuelan strongman leader Hugo Chavez who has co-opted the phrase to his own ends. Romney explained that this aggression cannot stand and that the phrase really belongs to the Cubans who are fighting against Castro.
And, of course, that statement is completely, 100% false. "Patria o muerte, venceremos: is the popular phrase that Castro has closed his rambling orations with for the last half-century as a means of coalescing his power base. So not only is Mitt Romney an idiot, but he cannot even read, write or listen to speeches. Which, unfortunately, as he is a member of the GOP, qualifies him to be President of the United States.
Now, of course, just on the basis of sheer ridiculousness, this one takes the cake. However, even better than the prima facie explanation, Romney tried to explain his choice of words as speaking out against Venezuelan strongman leader Hugo Chavez who has co-opted the phrase to his own ends. Romney explained that this aggression cannot stand and that the phrase really belongs to the Cubans who are fighting against Castro.
And, of course, that statement is completely, 100% false. "Patria o muerte, venceremos: is the popular phrase that Castro has closed his rambling orations with for the last half-century as a means of coalescing his power base. So not only is Mitt Romney an idiot, but he cannot even read, write or listen to speeches. Which, unfortunately, as he is a member of the GOP, qualifies him to be President of the United States.
Noo Yawk, Quick Thoughts
Some people go to bright, sunny locales for Spring Break, surrounding themselves with beautiful people sunbathing amidst crystal blue waters and such. For me, I was just happy that they cleared the storm drains in the New York by this morning so my feet could finally be dry as I went for a morning walk on 5th Avenue. Anyway, I don't have a full post here, so here are some quick hits from my extended weekend in the Big Apple.
- Obviously, first, I have to talk about the NCAA Tournament. Not exactly March Madness (unless you count the half hour of excitement on Saturday night with Vandy and Pitt). There were about 45 boring games last weekend, and all we learned (and, to be fair, I spent a lot of time roaming around NYC and not enough time watching hoops, so I may not be the most informative critic here) was that the Tournament is still up for grabs. Sure, I've got Kansas, but that's not a sure bet, as good as they looked whipping a bad Kentucky team yesterday. None of the #1 seeds looked dominant in their two wins over the weekend. Ohio State BARELY survived against a really, really, really bad Xavier team, while nearly giving Gus Johnson a simultaneous heart attack/sportsgasm. So pay attention next weekend, we'll see if any more secrets of the hardwood get revealed.
- I was very disappointed in the Holy Cross loss to SIU Friday night. I really thought the 'Saders had what it took to go on a little George Mason-esque run. Didn't get a chance to see the game, thanks to the magnificently intoxicated Villanova fans at the Waterloo Pub on 2nd Avenue who refused to give up 1 of the 5 TVs that were tuned to the Kentucky-'Nova yawner. Thanks guys. P.S., Need a cheap drink on the Upper East Side? Go to the Waterloo. The decor ain't much and the clientele are not exactly New York's chicest, but Luke, Megan and I got rip-roaringly tipsy on some brews and delightfully heavy drinks and got change back from $50. For all of us. Marvelous.
- Besides basketball, I've been culturing up this weekend. Spent a glorious day with Megan yesterday exploring the Met, then had a nice walk this morning to the MoMA and back up to the Guggenheim today. All three are, of course, impressive. I must say I was quite taken with the sometimes-maligned new MoMA, but then, I like modernism more than a lot of people. It was nice to see works like Les Desmoiselles d'Avignon, Onement 1, and Mondrian's Compositions up close and personal. The Met, too, was fun. I hadn't been there since my early childhood, and it was fun to go back and see Emanuel Leutze's rendition of Washington Crossing the Delaware, if for no other reason than that it reminded me of the first joke my mom ever told me. I was three years old and thought it was the height of comedy. The thing is, it's still funny. I'll leave you to ponder on its hilarity.
"What did George Washington say to his men before crossing the Delaware?"
"Get in the boat."
Timeless.
- Obviously, first, I have to talk about the NCAA Tournament. Not exactly March Madness (unless you count the half hour of excitement on Saturday night with Vandy and Pitt). There were about 45 boring games last weekend, and all we learned (and, to be fair, I spent a lot of time roaming around NYC and not enough time watching hoops, so I may not be the most informative critic here) was that the Tournament is still up for grabs. Sure, I've got Kansas, but that's not a sure bet, as good as they looked whipping a bad Kentucky team yesterday. None of the #1 seeds looked dominant in their two wins over the weekend. Ohio State BARELY survived against a really, really, really bad Xavier team, while nearly giving Gus Johnson a simultaneous heart attack/sportsgasm. So pay attention next weekend, we'll see if any more secrets of the hardwood get revealed.
- I was very disappointed in the Holy Cross loss to SIU Friday night. I really thought the 'Saders had what it took to go on a little George Mason-esque run. Didn't get a chance to see the game, thanks to the magnificently intoxicated Villanova fans at the Waterloo Pub on 2nd Avenue who refused to give up 1 of the 5 TVs that were tuned to the Kentucky-'Nova yawner. Thanks guys. P.S., Need a cheap drink on the Upper East Side? Go to the Waterloo. The decor ain't much and the clientele are not exactly New York's chicest, but Luke, Megan and I got rip-roaringly tipsy on some brews and delightfully heavy drinks and got change back from $50. For all of us. Marvelous.
- Besides basketball, I've been culturing up this weekend. Spent a glorious day with Megan yesterday exploring the Met, then had a nice walk this morning to the MoMA and back up to the Guggenheim today. All three are, of course, impressive. I must say I was quite taken with the sometimes-maligned new MoMA, but then, I like modernism more than a lot of people. It was nice to see works like Les Desmoiselles d'Avignon, Onement 1, and Mondrian's Compositions up close and personal. The Met, too, was fun. I hadn't been there since my early childhood, and it was fun to go back and see Emanuel Leutze's rendition of Washington Crossing the Delaware, if for no other reason than that it reminded me of the first joke my mom ever told me. I was three years old and thought it was the height of comedy. The thing is, it's still funny. I'll leave you to ponder on its hilarity.
"What did George Washington say to his men before crossing the Delaware?"
"Get in the boat."
Timeless.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Thirsty Thursday: 2005 Layer Cake Shiraz, Australia
I'm taking a (very) short break from NCAA tournament action to do the weekly wine review.
Ok, but first, full disclosure: I ended up switching my pick on tonight's game to VCU over Duke. And for once, I couldn't be happier that Duke lost. VCU stayed with them all game and deserved to win after DeMarcus Nelson INEXCUSABLY forced a score too early on their final legitimate possession and left the door open for Eric Maynor (who, by the way, is a total stud with NBA potential) to hit the game winning shot from the stripe.
Anyway, tonight I have selected Layer Cake Shiraz for the review. And I chose it for a very specific reason: it's a screwcap wine. DO NOT BE AFRAID! Wine in a bottle with a screwcap does not necessarily mean you are getting plonk. In fact, some of the world's finest wines are converting to screwcaps (and even, dear God, boxes). So let tonight be a lesson, just because you don't need a wine tool to open it, doesn't mean the wine won't be above average, as indeed tonight's selection was. And with that, on to the notes!
Lovely chocolate and white pepper on the nose are met with a velvety smooth coffee and fresh fall spice dominated palate. The finish seems to linger for days and leaves no impression that this wine, young as it is, is 14.5% alcohol by volume. The wonderful tastes are further accented by the layered textures and flavors of this tight, concenrated wine.
My rating: 94, Purchased at Mall Discount Liquors, Cambridge, $14.99
Ok, but first, full disclosure: I ended up switching my pick on tonight's game to VCU over Duke. And for once, I couldn't be happier that Duke lost. VCU stayed with them all game and deserved to win after DeMarcus Nelson INEXCUSABLY forced a score too early on their final legitimate possession and left the door open for Eric Maynor (who, by the way, is a total stud with NBA potential) to hit the game winning shot from the stripe.
Anyway, tonight I have selected Layer Cake Shiraz for the review. And I chose it for a very specific reason: it's a screwcap wine. DO NOT BE AFRAID! Wine in a bottle with a screwcap does not necessarily mean you are getting plonk. In fact, some of the world's finest wines are converting to screwcaps (and even, dear God, boxes). So let tonight be a lesson, just because you don't need a wine tool to open it, doesn't mean the wine won't be above average, as indeed tonight's selection was. And with that, on to the notes!
Lovely chocolate and white pepper on the nose are met with a velvety smooth coffee and fresh fall spice dominated palate. The finish seems to linger for days and leaves no impression that this wine, young as it is, is 14.5% alcohol by volume. The wonderful tastes are further accented by the layered textures and flavors of this tight, concenrated wine.
My rating: 94, Purchased at Mall Discount Liquors, Cambridge, $14.99
Sunday, March 11, 2007
It's The Most Wonderful Time of The Year
There is no day like today. Ok, maybe opening day of the baseball season, but really Selection Sunday carries an incredible sense of anticipation. 65 teams have been handed their tickets to the ball. A few of them will have the Cinderella experience, their dreams kept alive, others will have their runs cut short, their dreams crushed. And all of it transpiring in front of a nation, enraptured by it all.
But what did we learn today? Here are some major storylines.
1) The Syracuse snub is pretty much beyond the pale. They deserved a #6 seed (probably the one that Duke got, but I'll get to that in a minute) at worst, especially the way they have been playing the last few weeks before slipping up in the Big East tournament. No way Xavier, from the biggest joke of a conference this side of the Southland, deserved to get into this tournament. Or Stanford for that matter. Sure, their pre-conference schedule was its usual Big East-style easy pickings, and most of its big wins came at the Carrier Dome, but the win over Georgetown at the end of the regular season most assuredly should have guaranteed the 'Cuse a spot amongst the 65. The Committee really blew it.
2) A lot of you know I'm a HUGE Duke fan. And for obvious reasons, they're winners with a great coach in Mike Kryszewski and a storied history. But this year's team pales in comparison to teams from the past. I hate saying it, but they simply did not deserve the high #6 seed they got. They're overranked by virtue of their history, not the recent past. They were terrible down the stretch and had no opportunity to show their wares in the ACC tournament by virtue of running into a driven and very well-coached NC State. As you'll see in the breakdown, I have a hard time believing this team will get past VCU in the first round (even if I am still picking them).
3) A lot of people are disagreeing with Texas being ranked at #4. However, if you take Kevin Durant out of the equation, Texas is maybe, MAYBE, a 15-win team. Abrams and Augustin do not a contender make. Durant is a difference maker to be sure, his 37 points against Kansas today were scored in about 15 good minutes, but he cannot carry the load for 40 minutes night in and night out. They deserved to be a protected seed, but to me, #4 is right.
4) As an aside, watch out for Kansas. For once, Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk might actually be dangerous.
5) Finally, the one thing the Committee got right were the #1 seeds. Florida, Ohio State, Kansas, and, sadly, UNC, are the best teams in the nation.
And now, let's take a more in-depth look at the brackets.
MIDWEST REGION (St. Louis)
Florida received the overall #1 seed in the tournament by virtue of their recent play and their returning starters from last year's championship run. They had a shaky middle part of the season, but if their SEC tournament run is any indication of how they will fare, Florida is nearly a shoe-in for the Final Four and has an edge over the better part of the field. However, SEC teams have a tendency to be oversold in the run-up to the Big Dance, and Florida is no exception. Also, they most likely will not be tested until the Regional Final, when they will most likely be playing Pac-10 Champion Oregon, who have not been getting enough press. So while the Midwest on paper could be setup for a Florida run, don't be so sure.
1st Round Upset special: Winthrop over Notre Dame
Sleeper: Georgia Tech
Game to Watch: Sweet 16, Oregon vs. Georgia Tech
Regional Champion: Oregon over Florida
WEST REGION (San Jose)
The West region seems to be the least competitive of the four regions, with Kansas primed for a run to the Final Four. They certainly impressed me coming back from 22 down in the first half against Texas in today's Big 12 Championship. They are an incredibly deep team with the ability to slam their game into a whole other realm when challenged. A probable Sweet 16 date with Virginia Tech and/or Regional Final matchup with UCLA could prove thorny, but Kansas looks to be on another level going into the Dance.
1st Round Upset Special: Holy Cross over Southern Illinois (and, MAYBE, VCU over Duke)
Sleeper: Virginia Tech
Game to Watch: Second Round, Duke vs. Pittsburgh
Regional Champion: Kansas over UCLA
EAST REGION (Meadowlands)
North Carolina survived an impassioned run by the Wolfpack to win the ACC tournament earlier today. With 7 teams entering the field of 65 from the ACC, this was one of the better years in recent memory for College Basketball's best and most competitive power conference. The masked wonder Tyler Hansbrough and company are poised for a deep run, but the East Region should provide some remarkable game action all the way to Atlanta. Watch out for sleepers in this region especially, this year's George Mason could be making a run through East Rutherford.
1st Round Upset Special: Arkansas over USC
Sleeper: Vanderbilt
Game to Watch: Sweet 16, Vanderbilt vs. Georgetown
Regional Champion: North Carolina over Vanderbilt
SOUTH REGION (San Antonio)
This entire region is a toss-up. Ohio State looks strong, but Big 10 teams are always eminently beatable at Tournament time, so I am wary of picking them too deep. The #2 seed Memphis is a joke and will get upset by the second round. All respect to John Calipari, but this team is not UMass in 1995. They come from a mid-Major conference and had ZERO challenges in their pre-conference schedule. At 3, 4 and 5, Texas A&M, Virginia and Tennessee are all a little green, though Bruce Pearl may be able to work some magic with the Vols, so look out for them.
1st Round Upset Special: Your guess is as good as mine. Don't be shocked if Creighton or North Texas pull it off.
Sleeper: Tennessee
Game to Watch: Sweet 16, Ohio State vs. Tennessee
Regional Champion: Tennessee over Texas A&M
FINAL FOUR (Atlanta)
Kansas over Oregon, North Carolina over Tennessee.
NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP
Kansas 87, North Carolina 74. Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk.
But what did we learn today? Here are some major storylines.
1) The Syracuse snub is pretty much beyond the pale. They deserved a #6 seed (probably the one that Duke got, but I'll get to that in a minute) at worst, especially the way they have been playing the last few weeks before slipping up in the Big East tournament. No way Xavier, from the biggest joke of a conference this side of the Southland, deserved to get into this tournament. Or Stanford for that matter. Sure, their pre-conference schedule was its usual Big East-style easy pickings, and most of its big wins came at the Carrier Dome, but the win over Georgetown at the end of the regular season most assuredly should have guaranteed the 'Cuse a spot amongst the 65. The Committee really blew it.
2) A lot of you know I'm a HUGE Duke fan. And for obvious reasons, they're winners with a great coach in Mike Kryszewski and a storied history. But this year's team pales in comparison to teams from the past. I hate saying it, but they simply did not deserve the high #6 seed they got. They're overranked by virtue of their history, not the recent past. They were terrible down the stretch and had no opportunity to show their wares in the ACC tournament by virtue of running into a driven and very well-coached NC State. As you'll see in the breakdown, I have a hard time believing this team will get past VCU in the first round (even if I am still picking them).
3) A lot of people are disagreeing with Texas being ranked at #4. However, if you take Kevin Durant out of the equation, Texas is maybe, MAYBE, a 15-win team. Abrams and Augustin do not a contender make. Durant is a difference maker to be sure, his 37 points against Kansas today were scored in about 15 good minutes, but he cannot carry the load for 40 minutes night in and night out. They deserved to be a protected seed, but to me, #4 is right.
4) As an aside, watch out for Kansas. For once, Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk might actually be dangerous.
5) Finally, the one thing the Committee got right were the #1 seeds. Florida, Ohio State, Kansas, and, sadly, UNC, are the best teams in the nation.
And now, let's take a more in-depth look at the brackets.
MIDWEST REGION (St. Louis)
Florida received the overall #1 seed in the tournament by virtue of their recent play and their returning starters from last year's championship run. They had a shaky middle part of the season, but if their SEC tournament run is any indication of how they will fare, Florida is nearly a shoe-in for the Final Four and has an edge over the better part of the field. However, SEC teams have a tendency to be oversold in the run-up to the Big Dance, and Florida is no exception. Also, they most likely will not be tested until the Regional Final, when they will most likely be playing Pac-10 Champion Oregon, who have not been getting enough press. So while the Midwest on paper could be setup for a Florida run, don't be so sure.
1st Round Upset special: Winthrop over Notre Dame
Sleeper: Georgia Tech
Game to Watch: Sweet 16, Oregon vs. Georgia Tech
Regional Champion: Oregon over Florida
WEST REGION (San Jose)
The West region seems to be the least competitive of the four regions, with Kansas primed for a run to the Final Four. They certainly impressed me coming back from 22 down in the first half against Texas in today's Big 12 Championship. They are an incredibly deep team with the ability to slam their game into a whole other realm when challenged. A probable Sweet 16 date with Virginia Tech and/or Regional Final matchup with UCLA could prove thorny, but Kansas looks to be on another level going into the Dance.
1st Round Upset Special: Holy Cross over Southern Illinois (and, MAYBE, VCU over Duke)
Sleeper: Virginia Tech
Game to Watch: Second Round, Duke vs. Pittsburgh
Regional Champion: Kansas over UCLA
EAST REGION (Meadowlands)
North Carolina survived an impassioned run by the Wolfpack to win the ACC tournament earlier today. With 7 teams entering the field of 65 from the ACC, this was one of the better years in recent memory for College Basketball's best and most competitive power conference. The masked wonder Tyler Hansbrough and company are poised for a deep run, but the East Region should provide some remarkable game action all the way to Atlanta. Watch out for sleepers in this region especially, this year's George Mason could be making a run through East Rutherford.
1st Round Upset Special: Arkansas over USC
Sleeper: Vanderbilt
Game to Watch: Sweet 16, Vanderbilt vs. Georgetown
Regional Champion: North Carolina over Vanderbilt
SOUTH REGION (San Antonio)
This entire region is a toss-up. Ohio State looks strong, but Big 10 teams are always eminently beatable at Tournament time, so I am wary of picking them too deep. The #2 seed Memphis is a joke and will get upset by the second round. All respect to John Calipari, but this team is not UMass in 1995. They come from a mid-Major conference and had ZERO challenges in their pre-conference schedule. At 3, 4 and 5, Texas A&M, Virginia and Tennessee are all a little green, though Bruce Pearl may be able to work some magic with the Vols, so look out for them.
1st Round Upset Special: Your guess is as good as mine. Don't be shocked if Creighton or North Texas pull it off.
Sleeper: Tennessee
Game to Watch: Sweet 16, Ohio State vs. Tennessee
Regional Champion: Tennessee over Texas A&M
FINAL FOUR (Atlanta)
Kansas over Oregon, North Carolina over Tennessee.
NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP
Kansas 87, North Carolina 74. Rock, Chalk, Jayhawk.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
Hypocrisy In Government? It's Spelled G-I-N-G-R-I-C-H
Oh, this is too good to pass up.
As awful and revolting as the idea of Newt Gingrich having sex is, he was having it. With a woman. Who was not his wife. Not news, you say? Here's the kicker:
The affair took place while that loudmouthed jackass was on every media outlet within ear and eyeshot of the American people, castigating the President of the United States, Bill Clinton, for having an illicit affair of his own.
I mean, just, can you even possibly be serious anymore? These people have officially lost their minds. I thought "Conservapedia" (where, when we don't like the facts, we change 'em) would the most ridiculous Conservative-related item of the week. But, oh Newtie, you came and you gave without taking...
Good luck running for President yourself, you consummate jackass.
As awful and revolting as the idea of Newt Gingrich having sex is, he was having it. With a woman. Who was not his wife. Not news, you say? Here's the kicker:
The affair took place while that loudmouthed jackass was on every media outlet within ear and eyeshot of the American people, castigating the President of the United States, Bill Clinton, for having an illicit affair of his own.
I mean, just, can you even possibly be serious anymore? These people have officially lost their minds. I thought "Conservapedia" (where, when we don't like the facts, we change 'em) would the most ridiculous Conservative-related item of the week. But, oh Newtie, you came and you gave without taking...
Good luck running for President yourself, you consummate jackass.
Thirsty Thursday: 2005 Firesteed Pinot Noir
Ok, so first a disclaimer. I know I said I would do this as a regular feature. And I really did mean it. However, the last time we met in this space to talk wine, there was a rather unfortunate incident. See, I was typing away, minding my own business, tasting some nice (if young, as you'll remember) French wine, when the unthinkable happened. I managed, heroically, to spill a small quantity of wine on my keyboard. The trusted iBook is luckily none the worse for ware (after a quick keyboard replacement to the tune of $130), but I was still a little gun shy about keeping wine near my pride and joy. However, tonight I decided to throw caution to the wind and enjoy some fine Oregon Pinot Noir. I also decided I should drink it away from the computer. How very low-fi.
And now, on to the tasting notes!
Bright, ruby color in the glass is met with strawberries and cherries on the nose, accompanied by some faint earth tones. Lovely fruit on the forward palate is concentrated with very low acidity. Hard cheese taste on the long, lingering finish which completes the very balanced nature of the wine.
My rating: 91. Purchased at Downtown Wine and Spirits, Davis Square, Somerville, $17.
And now, on to the tasting notes!
Bright, ruby color in the glass is met with strawberries and cherries on the nose, accompanied by some faint earth tones. Lovely fruit on the forward palate is concentrated with very low acidity. Hard cheese taste on the long, lingering finish which completes the very balanced nature of the wine.
My rating: 91. Purchased at Downtown Wine and Spirits, Davis Square, Somerville, $17.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Bye, Scooter
I. Lewis "Scooter" (and, really, to whomever gave him that moniker, the thanks of a grateful nation be upon you) Libby, former chief counselor to Vice President, and Commander in Chief of the Army of Darkness, Richard B. "Dick" Cheney, is going for an extended stay to Club Fed. Possibly for thirty years, but at least until he is pardoned by President George W. "W" Bush when the heat dies down. Libby, of course, became the sacrificial lamb in the CIA Leak case in which Ambassador Joe Wilson's hot, hot, CIA operative wife, Valerie Plame, was outed as such by the administration, and subsequently lost her job as a covert agent. What we learned from the verdict, however, is that while the administration has lost a lot of legislative power in the face of the past mid-term elections, they are still very adept at protecting the chief architects of this sham of a government when push comes to shove. So for those of you who would like to see this administration crash and burn through impeachment or what have you, remember: they always find someone just low enough on the food chain to take the fall and keep them out of the shit.
Anyway, Scooter, enjoy your time away. Perhaps you can work on another lewd, ridiculous novel about skiing or whatever it is that you do. Also, don't forget, it's shank or be shanked.
Anyway, Scooter, enjoy your time away. Perhaps you can work on another lewd, ridiculous novel about skiing or whatever it is that you do. Also, don't forget, it's shank or be shanked.
Monday, March 05, 2007
You Make The Call
So I'm reminded tonight of these old commercials they used to run during football games in the 1980s. The premise would be that they would show some kind of interesting play from an earlier game, one with a disputed call, and then give the audience a couple of options on how the play should have been called by the referees on the field. Then they would break for another 10 seconds or so and hock some product (it may have been Budweiser, but I honestly can't remember) then come back and tell you what happened. All in good fun. Sometimes these plays had two possible outcomes and you had to chose the crazier, zanier one, which was usually how the play was called. To wit, I provide you with two "real-life" (read: Hollywood) situations from over the weekend, and try to answer which wacky scenario takes the cake.
1) Britney Spears' latest attempt at rehab which abruptly ended with her screaming "I am the anti-christ!" and feigning a try at suicide before publicly begging the Distinguished Gentleman, Mr. Federline, to re-marry her and make him a baby daddy once again.
2) On the subject of satanic spawn, Ann Coulter opened her mouth again this weekend, when, over the deafening cries of the misbegotten which follow that wench around whenever she tries to speak, she managed, somehow, to drop the F-Bomb on John Edwards at some Conservative event.
That's right, America, tell us who the biggest loser is. YOU Make the Call!
And now a message from our sponsor:
(This is the part where I openly thank City Slicker Cafe for posting my musings about the Shrimp and Bacon Pizza in their fine establishment. Kudos to you for singling me out and spreading the word about this blog. I'll be in to collect my free lifetime supply of pizzas soon...)
And now, America decides as YOU Make the Call.
The answer of course, is that we are all sad and disgusting people for lending any sort of credence to this claptrap. Both Britney Spears and Ann Coulter should just go away. We should stop listening to them, or caring about them. And thus, like all shebeast celebutantes of Hollywood and Washington, they will soon fade into our collective memories.
At least, we can hope...
1) Britney Spears' latest attempt at rehab which abruptly ended with her screaming "I am the anti-christ!" and feigning a try at suicide before publicly begging the Distinguished Gentleman, Mr. Federline, to re-marry her and make him a baby daddy once again.
2) On the subject of satanic spawn, Ann Coulter opened her mouth again this weekend, when, over the deafening cries of the misbegotten which follow that wench around whenever she tries to speak, she managed, somehow, to drop the F-Bomb on John Edwards at some Conservative event.
That's right, America, tell us who the biggest loser is. YOU Make the Call!
And now a message from our sponsor:
(This is the part where I openly thank City Slicker Cafe for posting my musings about the Shrimp and Bacon Pizza in their fine establishment. Kudos to you for singling me out and spreading the word about this blog. I'll be in to collect my free lifetime supply of pizzas soon...)
And now, America decides as YOU Make the Call.
The answer of course, is that we are all sad and disgusting people for lending any sort of credence to this claptrap. Both Britney Spears and Ann Coulter should just go away. We should stop listening to them, or caring about them. And thus, like all shebeast celebutantes of Hollywood and Washington, they will soon fade into our collective memories.
At least, we can hope...
Monday, February 26, 2007
Mike Doughty Brings Us The New Hotness. Again.
If you're not reading Super Special Questions and listening to the music of Mike Doughty, it's about damn time you start. If you are reading it, then you would have seen today's long update post (he's into that recently) about his preparations for the Knitting Factory show (which, alas, I am not going to), his forthcoming trip to Berlin, the songwriting process for his next album which cannot come soon enough, and relinking with Andrew "Scrap" Livingston, international man of mystery. In and of itself, a great post.
But contained in the bottom of the text were some recommendations from Doughty. First, that we should all see that German movie that won the Best Foreign Film Oscar last night. More importantly, however, he introduces us to Sean Hayes, an independent singer-songwriter from San Francisco. I just downloaded his latest two albums, "Big Black Hole and Little Baby Star" and "Alabama Chicken" from iTunes, and let me tell you, I don't think I've heard downbeat folkrock this good since I heard Damien Rice's "O" way back on the campaign trail. Hayes released these two albums on his own label and has lent his personal touch to them. Stirring arrangements are accompanied by his haunting vocals, a cross between the aforementioned Rice, Amos Lee (who, also, if you're not listening to him, you're worse off for it) and, at times, Thom Yorke. All the while, Hayes incorporates the country sensibility he learned growing up in North Carolina into a very mature, folky, unique sound.
In short, go buy these albums now. And enjoy them.
You can thank me (and Doughty) later.
But contained in the bottom of the text were some recommendations from Doughty. First, that we should all see that German movie that won the Best Foreign Film Oscar last night. More importantly, however, he introduces us to Sean Hayes, an independent singer-songwriter from San Francisco. I just downloaded his latest two albums, "Big Black Hole and Little Baby Star" and "Alabama Chicken" from iTunes, and let me tell you, I don't think I've heard downbeat folkrock this good since I heard Damien Rice's "O" way back on the campaign trail. Hayes released these two albums on his own label and has lent his personal touch to them. Stirring arrangements are accompanied by his haunting vocals, a cross between the aforementioned Rice, Amos Lee (who, also, if you're not listening to him, you're worse off for it) and, at times, Thom Yorke. All the while, Hayes incorporates the country sensibility he learned growing up in North Carolina into a very mature, folky, unique sound.
In short, go buy these albums now. And enjoy them.
You can thank me (and Doughty) later.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
No, You're Right, Of COURSE Strom Thurmond's Family Owned Al Sharpton's Ancestors As Slaves. This Makes Perfect Sense.
If this is a joke, it is the funniest joke I have ever heard. If it's not, and it is in fact true, then it is the funniest thing I have ever heard, period. I've linked the article, but here is the crux of it:
Strom Thurmond's Great-Great Grandfather owned slaves, much as the younger Thurmond (which, I'm sure the late, great racist gentleman from South Carolina has not been called in a VERY long time) would have liked to do in his own life. One of those slaves was a man named Coleman Sharpton. And yes, you guessed it, Coleman Sharpton is a direct ancestor of the one, the only, Rev. Al Sharpton.
I mean, can you conceive of a more hilarious circumstance than this? I'm thinking about writing a sitcom about it, for christ's sake.
Strom Thurmond's Great-Great Grandfather owned slaves, much as the younger Thurmond (which, I'm sure the late, great racist gentleman from South Carolina has not been called in a VERY long time) would have liked to do in his own life. One of those slaves was a man named Coleman Sharpton. And yes, you guessed it, Coleman Sharpton is a direct ancestor of the one, the only, Rev. Al Sharpton.
I mean, can you conceive of a more hilarious circumstance than this? I'm thinking about writing a sitcom about it, for christ's sake.
Friday, February 23, 2007
DJ
Dennis Johnson died last night. He was 52. It's almost ironic, because I had spent a goodly portion of this week thinking about Dennis Johnson specifically, and the '86 Celtics in general. You know, the Pats are done for the year and the Red Sox won't start ramping up until next week, so my mind wanders, inevitably, to the glory days of the past in Boston sports. Also, NBATV (the newest hotness) has been showing NBA's Greatest Games from 1986 a lot lately. I forgot how truly stacked that team was. Bird, McHale, Parish, Ainge, and DJ. All 5 of them all-stars. All 5 of them (as Bill Simmons writes today in his elegy for Johnson, which you all should read, because he'll say this much better than I ever could) SHOULD be Hall of Famers. Of course, Johnson will get there, but now it will be only in memoriam for the great player he was.
Anyway, read Simmons, because he breaks this down much better, but the one thing people forget is how DJ's greatest play (of many great instinctive plays he made over his career) is completely overshadowed by a Legend and a call. Watch it below.
Remember plays like this one when the Celtics next stink out the joint against Golden State or some damn thing. In any case, thanks DJ, you provided the Celtic faithful with many, many great moments. And you will be missed.
Anyway, read Simmons, because he breaks this down much better, but the one thing people forget is how DJ's greatest play (of many great instinctive plays he made over his career) is completely overshadowed by a Legend and a call. Watch it below.
Remember plays like this one when the Celtics next stink out the joint against Golden State or some damn thing. In any case, thanks DJ, you provided the Celtic faithful with many, many great moments. And you will be missed.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Shrimp. Bacon. Pizza. Heaven.
I openly wept at the sight of it.
About six months ago, as many of you may know, the culinary bastion of goodness known as Urban Gourmet burned in a tragic fire which left all of us who loved the venerable greasy spoon, and had elevated it to an almost cult-like status, shocked and saddened. Over the weekend, I received word that the owners had pooled their resources into a new location, which they dubbed City Slicker Cafe. As they were closed Sunday and Monday, I had to wait a few more days until last night to renew my love for Urban. But, oh boy, the wait was more than worth it.
I put in my order at around 6pm after my torturous Postmodernism class wrapped up late and I got books from Tisch for my paper due on Thursday. The last six Urbanless months had prepared me for the final wait, but I still kept bouncing my leg while staring at the clock in anticipation. When the doorbell rang, I (quite literally) bolted out of my chair to the door and received my pizza, now dubbed the Surf 'n' Turf by City Slicker. Running back to the couch, I didn't even wait to get a plate or a glass of milk or anything. I put the box down on the ottoman and opened it. And stared.
Honestly, pizza, or really food of any kind, should not make me do this. But there I sat, in awe of the beauty which sat smoldering in front of me. It was just as I remembered: thick, flaky crust, lush toppings, bubbling cheese. I admired for a minute what I had so long desired. And then I took my first, breathless bite.
The taste was just as I remembered. Buttery and soft, the shrimp and bacon flavors dancing across my palate, all the while thinking, "if there is a god, and he ordered a pizza, it would be this."
I ate six slices and I didn't care that that made me a fatass. It was worth it. Because when a man thinks he's lost his favorite pizza forever, there's nothing in the world like getting it back.
About six months ago, as many of you may know, the culinary bastion of goodness known as Urban Gourmet burned in a tragic fire which left all of us who loved the venerable greasy spoon, and had elevated it to an almost cult-like status, shocked and saddened. Over the weekend, I received word that the owners had pooled their resources into a new location, which they dubbed City Slicker Cafe. As they were closed Sunday and Monday, I had to wait a few more days until last night to renew my love for Urban. But, oh boy, the wait was more than worth it.
I put in my order at around 6pm after my torturous Postmodernism class wrapped up late and I got books from Tisch for my paper due on Thursday. The last six Urbanless months had prepared me for the final wait, but I still kept bouncing my leg while staring at the clock in anticipation. When the doorbell rang, I (quite literally) bolted out of my chair to the door and received my pizza, now dubbed the Surf 'n' Turf by City Slicker. Running back to the couch, I didn't even wait to get a plate or a glass of milk or anything. I put the box down on the ottoman and opened it. And stared.
Honestly, pizza, or really food of any kind, should not make me do this. But there I sat, in awe of the beauty which sat smoldering in front of me. It was just as I remembered: thick, flaky crust, lush toppings, bubbling cheese. I admired for a minute what I had so long desired. And then I took my first, breathless bite.
The taste was just as I remembered. Buttery and soft, the shrimp and bacon flavors dancing across my palate, all the while thinking, "if there is a god, and he ordered a pizza, it would be this."
I ate six slices and I didn't care that that made me a fatass. It was worth it. Because when a man thinks he's lost his favorite pizza forever, there's nothing in the world like getting it back.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
Thirsty Thursday: 2005 Chateau Clos de la Chesnaie, Lalande de Pomerol
Welcome to a new feature over here at Theory in Practice. Each Thursday night, as the college weekend and drinkathon begins, I'll be posting tasting notes for a new wine each week, both to continue my lovable but pompous ranting and to help educate you, dear reader, on the wonderful world of wine.
We begin this week with a 2005 Chateau Clos de la Chesnaie, a Bordeaux blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. Oenophiles have been holding their collective breath in anticipation of the wonders the 2005 Bordeaux vintage will unleash, and we are just now getting our first peek into the peak of the world's best known wine region. Scholars wonder whether 2005, with great vintages like 2000 and 2003 barely in the rear-view mirror, will gain that most sought-after title of reknowned year in Bordelaise history. Futures have skyrocketed, and the world's collectors have begun snapping up the best. But for me, the small quaffer, and thousands like me, we may still experience that perfection of a confluence of events so rare as to create memories for years to come. There are wonderful, accessible Bordeaux wines still out there, so get searching!
And now on to the tasting. Earth tones and lovely Merlot berry flavors on the nose, tempered with just hint of smoke and oak. Rather astringent in the mouth, even after aerating, but with a flourish of strawberry and black cherries. Finish is very acidic, clearly the wine needs much more time to mellow in the bottle.
Overall: 87 now, 89-91 at peak. $14.99 on sale at Mall Discount Liquors, Cambridge, MA
We begin this week with a 2005 Chateau Clos de la Chesnaie, a Bordeaux blend of Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon. Oenophiles have been holding their collective breath in anticipation of the wonders the 2005 Bordeaux vintage will unleash, and we are just now getting our first peek into the peak of the world's best known wine region. Scholars wonder whether 2005, with great vintages like 2000 and 2003 barely in the rear-view mirror, will gain that most sought-after title of reknowned year in Bordelaise history. Futures have skyrocketed, and the world's collectors have begun snapping up the best. But for me, the small quaffer, and thousands like me, we may still experience that perfection of a confluence of events so rare as to create memories for years to come. There are wonderful, accessible Bordeaux wines still out there, so get searching!
And now on to the tasting. Earth tones and lovely Merlot berry flavors on the nose, tempered with just hint of smoke and oak. Rather astringent in the mouth, even after aerating, but with a flourish of strawberry and black cherries. Finish is very acidic, clearly the wine needs much more time to mellow in the bottle.
Overall: 87 now, 89-91 at peak. $14.99 on sale at Mall Discount Liquors, Cambridge, MA
Sunday, February 11, 2007
'Bosch is Better
Though I am still in the recovery process from yesterday's Boston Wine Expo, I have a few quick thoughts on the dazzling event, and some comparisons to my favorite wine event, the Stellenbosch Wine Festival.
First of all, event hough they say it opens at 1pm, we clearly needed to be there well before that. Unfortunately, James and I were detained at his house trying to buy Red Sox opening day tickets (we didn't get them, got Yankee tickets for April 21st instead) and didn't leave Cambridge until 12:30. Nevertheless, as we exited the Silver Line stop at World Trade Center station at 1pm on the nose, the gathering herd had...well, gathered. The line stretched in a serpentine fashion all the way out past the Seaport Hotel. And that was just the line to get into a another line to get your ticket taken! The entire process took more than a half an hour. Luckily, it was rather a warm day and we were appropriately dressed.
When we arrived inside the hall, the sheer magnitude of the event captivated us. Acre upon acre of wine, wine-related products, and food splayed out in front of us. We didn't know where to begin. After 10 minutes trying to find the coat check, which we never found until about an hour and a half later, when it was full, we decided to make our first tasting experiences in the Sonoma County booths, starting with Ravenswood Sonoma County Old Vines Zinfandel 2004. I much prefer the Mendocino County Zin by Ravenswood, which is not to say their Sonoma County offering is bad - it's not, it was actually some of our favorite wine of the day - but it will definitely benefit from more time in the bottle. From Sonoma County, we made our way to the South African wines, tasting some Haute-Cabriere Pinotage, a Franschhoek favorite, as well as Diemersdal Pinotage from Durbanville, which I well remembered sharing with Caitlin over mussels at Theo's in Camps Bay. After the stroll down memory lane, we made our way to the Sake booth, which was surprisingly unpopular. Of course, this allowed James to talk about his favorite Sake pairings - "I like to pair with an ice cold Kirin Ichiban, placing the Sake at the bottom and drinking rapidly" - but also allowed us to sample some very fine wine. The exhibitor there was also the best of the day by far. He really knew about the process and clearly loved explaining it to wine people who many times do not give Sake its due. Their unfiltered offering, Kikusui Funaguchi, was my favorite, a viscous, cloudy and rich tasting offering in a can which checks in at 19% alcohol by volume.
After our first round of tasting, having made our towards the celebrity chef kitchens, we started walking through the food displays, enjoying many new treats along the way. However, after about 15 minutes we decided food would not get us drunk, so it was right back to the tasting floor. By now, at about 2:30, the hall was packed with wine people. It was also during this period that many of the serious wine writers, tradesmen and true oenophiles were making their rounds. Which, of course, means they were hogging up all the good tables wanting to talk about esoterica with the merchants. We did manage to slip into some smaller places along the way, however, including the intriguing Clos de Lachance, a small, single-vineyard winery in the Santa Cruz Mountains of Central California. Their "hummingbird series" zinfandel and syrah had clearly benefited from the careful handling of a small vintner's touch. After this visit to California, we jumped over to Portugal and indulged in some very big, bold and fruit-forward wines. My favorite was the Ferreira 10-Year Tawny Port, with wonderfully rich fruit and oak flavors that seemed to linger for almost half an hour after tasting. Certainly made me want to visit Portugal for real and sample some contemporaries.
Much of the rest of the afternoon was spent tasting American wines, which but for MacRostie's fantastic Pinot Noir and the Central Coast Zinfandel offering from Pietra Santa Winery, were less than thrilling. In all, James and I guessed we tasted around 75-100 wines in less than three hours, which made the cold walk back slightly more bearable. Nonetheless, while impressive and large, the Boston Wine Expo pales in comparison to the stellar Stellenbosch affair. Now, of course, it is a much different type of wine celebration, with the best of the best from across the world gathered here in Boston, while Stellenbosch is a celebration of one region, however formidable. Still, I much prefer the smaller celebrations in that we could taste our way through the entire region and really get a sense of it. With a lack of a clear strategy in Boston, we sort of found ourselves all over the map, so to speak, and while we certainly had some dizzying highs, they were fewer and further between. There was also a much more rushed feel to the Boston event. With only three hours to taste and 1800 wines available, we ended up having to make choices based on availability and timing, much more than in Stellenbosch. It was a much more closed in feel to be sure. Finally, and I believe most regrettably, for whatever reason, there was no way to buy any of the wines we sampled at the Wine Expo. At Stellnbosch, when we finished tasting after four or so hours, we could go into the shop pick up the ones we liked then retire to the field behind the Paul Roos Centre and in the shadows of the mountains drink sundowners and relax. In Boston, when we were done tasting, the event was over, no room to further discuss what we found or enjoy some spoils of tasting. Still, the event, while certainly more of a trade show than a festival, is worth every penny to go to in order to beef up your education about wine.
First of all, event hough they say it opens at 1pm, we clearly needed to be there well before that. Unfortunately, James and I were detained at his house trying to buy Red Sox opening day tickets (we didn't get them, got Yankee tickets for April 21st instead) and didn't leave Cambridge until 12:30. Nevertheless, as we exited the Silver Line stop at World Trade Center station at 1pm on the nose, the gathering herd had...well, gathered. The line stretched in a serpentine fashion all the way out past the Seaport Hotel. And that was just the line to get into a another line to get your ticket taken! The entire process took more than a half an hour. Luckily, it was rather a warm day and we were appropriately dressed.
When we arrived inside the hall, the sheer magnitude of the event captivated us. Acre upon acre of wine, wine-related products, and food splayed out in front of us. We didn't know where to begin. After 10 minutes trying to find the coat check, which we never found until about an hour and a half later, when it was full, we decided to make our first tasting experiences in the Sonoma County booths, starting with Ravenswood Sonoma County Old Vines Zinfandel 2004. I much prefer the Mendocino County Zin by Ravenswood, which is not to say their Sonoma County offering is bad - it's not, it was actually some of our favorite wine of the day - but it will definitely benefit from more time in the bottle. From Sonoma County, we made our way to the South African wines, tasting some Haute-Cabriere Pinotage, a Franschhoek favorite, as well as Diemersdal Pinotage from Durbanville, which I well remembered sharing with Caitlin over mussels at Theo's in Camps Bay. After the stroll down memory lane, we made our way to the Sake booth, which was surprisingly unpopular. Of course, this allowed James to talk about his favorite Sake pairings - "I like to pair with an ice cold Kirin Ichiban, placing the Sake at the bottom and drinking rapidly" - but also allowed us to sample some very fine wine. The exhibitor there was also the best of the day by far. He really knew about the process and clearly loved explaining it to wine people who many times do not give Sake its due. Their unfiltered offering, Kikusui Funaguchi, was my favorite, a viscous, cloudy and rich tasting offering in a can which checks in at 19% alcohol by volume.
After our first round of tasting, having made our towards the celebrity chef kitchens, we started walking through the food displays, enjoying many new treats along the way. However, after about 15 minutes we decided food would not get us drunk, so it was right back to the tasting floor. By now, at about 2:30, the hall was packed with wine people. It was also during this period that many of the serious wine writers, tradesmen and true oenophiles were making their rounds. Which, of course, means they were hogging up all the good tables wanting to talk about esoterica with the merchants. We did manage to slip into some smaller places along the way, however, including the intriguing Clos de Lachance, a small, single-vineyard winery in the Santa Cruz Mountains of Central California. Their "hummingbird series" zinfandel and syrah had clearly benefited from the careful handling of a small vintner's touch. After this visit to California, we jumped over to Portugal and indulged in some very big, bold and fruit-forward wines. My favorite was the Ferreira 10-Year Tawny Port, with wonderfully rich fruit and oak flavors that seemed to linger for almost half an hour after tasting. Certainly made me want to visit Portugal for real and sample some contemporaries.
Much of the rest of the afternoon was spent tasting American wines, which but for MacRostie's fantastic Pinot Noir and the Central Coast Zinfandel offering from Pietra Santa Winery, were less than thrilling. In all, James and I guessed we tasted around 75-100 wines in less than three hours, which made the cold walk back slightly more bearable. Nonetheless, while impressive and large, the Boston Wine Expo pales in comparison to the stellar Stellenbosch affair. Now, of course, it is a much different type of wine celebration, with the best of the best from across the world gathered here in Boston, while Stellenbosch is a celebration of one region, however formidable. Still, I much prefer the smaller celebrations in that we could taste our way through the entire region and really get a sense of it. With a lack of a clear strategy in Boston, we sort of found ourselves all over the map, so to speak, and while we certainly had some dizzying highs, they were fewer and further between. There was also a much more rushed feel to the Boston event. With only three hours to taste and 1800 wines available, we ended up having to make choices based on availability and timing, much more than in Stellenbosch. It was a much more closed in feel to be sure. Finally, and I believe most regrettably, for whatever reason, there was no way to buy any of the wines we sampled at the Wine Expo. At Stellnbosch, when we finished tasting after four or so hours, we could go into the shop pick up the ones we liked then retire to the field behind the Paul Roos Centre and in the shadows of the mountains drink sundowners and relax. In Boston, when we were done tasting, the event was over, no room to further discuss what we found or enjoy some spoils of tasting. Still, the event, while certainly more of a trade show than a festival, is worth every penny to go to in order to beef up your education about wine.
Friday, February 09, 2007
Bourdain is God, God is Bourdain. The Two Are One.
A lot of you know of my fascination and utmost respect for Chef-Hero, Anthony Bourdain. I mean, after all, this is the man who truly spurred my own desire to cook and has made cooking a soulful pursuit again. He is also one of my favorite writers, with a talent for description of even the most mundane things, both in and out of the kitchen, sublime. In a guest post over at Ruhlman.com, he takes the Food Network to task for its current crop of celebrity chefs. Those of you who have read his seminal work, Kitchen Confidential, know of Bourdain's distaste for the entire idea of the celebrity chef - though, of course, he has become one along the way, albeit with a style unmatched in the industry. Here, he essentially bemoans the loss of the soul of cooking, a soul which he, himself, has been credited with saving over the last decade at Les Halles, and as he lamented in an earlier guest post about this year's Top Chef. As always, Bourdain's musings are spot on. Read and enjoy. Also, if you haven't read Kitchen Confidential, The Nasty Bits or any other of Bourdain's earlier work, go to Amazon and buy them now.
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