These Apples

You Know Why You Shouldn't Just Abandon Your Blog and Leave it in the Dust?

2011-11-28T14:16:00.000-08:00

Maybe someone will come looking for a sports blogger someday, and they'll even want to pay that person. If so, it would really suck if your last blog about baseball was written sometime in 2009.

I've been enjoying the heck out of my Fantasy Football this year. I'm really excited that there will be NBA games before 2011 is over. That said, I'm a baseball guy, start to close. I'm unlikely to blog about how the Texans are so hurt at quarterback that they can't even find a guy named Matt to do it. I won't speculate on what the Rockets' next move is. But I am always happy to talk some baseball with you, even if you don't really exist.

This whole move to the American League thing had me so sick to my stomach for so long, I just preferred not to talk about it. Couple that with the past two seasons we've had around here, and one can understand how it would be hard to get jazzed up about all things in Astrodom. But you know what? We've got a new owner, who seems like he knows a few things about the game, and he's eager to bring in good front office people, and he wants to build through the draft, and those are all good things. I don't care for the DH, but in a few years, both leagues will have it, and Astros fans will have the advantage of having gotten used to it. And best of all, we have a chance of being the last line of defense against a World Series Championship for the Chicago Cubs, which Revelations says will cast the world into a thousand-year period of darkness. So, there's that. I like Mike Soscia, I like the Rangers, and I don't mind beating up on the A's and Mariners once we get out of the suck-hole, so... yeah. Believe it or not, this is the beginning of a new "good time to be an Astros fan." Welcome aboard.

All for now.

Hey, Wanna Know Why I Haven't Been Blogging? I've Been a Little Busy.

2011-03-30T05:53:00.000-07:00

Doing this!

Stealing Your Memories - The Making Of.mov

2011-02-26T21:52:00.000-08:00

Dear Blogging World

2010-02-11T12:35:00.001-08:00

I have decided to end my stalemate with the written postulance to announce that I am extremely sleepy.

Thank you.

All for now.

It Has Already Been Established That I Watch a Lot of Baseball in October OR Fun With Links!

2009-10-09T21:34:00.001-07:00

Last night, Buck Martinez made a comment about Bobby Abreu, currently playing right field for the Angels paying tribute Abreu's early days as a member of our own Houston Astros, and the values he gleaned from the Astros' great players of the 1996 - 1998 heyday: Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, and... Ricky Gutierrez?

As incomprehensible as it was to me that Martinez would group Gutierrez (career homer total 38! career RBI total 357!) with probable Hall-of-Famers Biggio and Bagwell, I let it slide, because as a rule, MLB color commentators are known for being off-kilter, bad at their jobs, or generally insane. Most of them are former players, and they've sustained enough head injuries in their lives that the actual broadcast journalists who provide play-by-play know enough to blithely ignore the many batshit things the color guys say (see The Exception That Proves the Rule).

However, just moments ago, sideline reporter Mark Fine referenced Buck Martinez's comment, paying specific attention to the Ricky Gutierrez part, and speaking of Gutierrez as though he was one of the true clubhouse leaders of the late 90's Houston Astros.

For those of you who did not follow the team during that time, allow me to state, for the record:

No, he was not. Bags & Bidge were. Ausmus, kinda. Gonzo, maybe. Even crazy-as-all-getout Carl Everett, in his own crazy way (Everett should be an MLB color commentator, now that I think about it). Never Ricky Raccoon.

Now you know the rest of the story you didn't ask for.

All for now.

Be Prepared an 11:30 p.m. Eastern Start Time

2009-10-09T21:22:00.000-07:00

Because it's gonna be Dodgers - Angels. I'm calling it.

It was obvious to anyone not wearing Sox GogglesTM.

All for now.

No New Information Here

2009-10-08T09:43:00.000-07:00

This world is mean, and awful.

It doesn't take much to make me happy. I just want everyone else to be happy, too. But when you are faced with negatives everywhere, it clouds and challenges your ability to be happy.

I've been beaten, and beaten, and beaten some more, and I don't know that I can continue to hold out hope that success is possible for me. And unfortunately, it's a repeating cycle. You'll never win in a situation where they can already tell that you think you'll lose.

Maybe it's because I refused to approach success from a competitive standpoint. I didn't want to believe that it was "me vs. them." I wanted to believe that we all could win.

It's as though nobody else wants you to find real, sustainable happiness, because they're not sure there's enough to go around. They don't realize the greatest maxim of love, that the more you give, the more there is, which, surprisingly, I still believe.

God, I feel worthless.

Yeah, I Know I'm a Crappy Blogger. Step Off.

2009-10-07T20:45:00.000-07:00

TBS, what the fuck happened? You've been so good, and then you pull this stunt? The MLB Playoffs are still baseball games, not an episode of Lost. Stop getting fancy with all your camera angles, and zooms, and crooked closeups, and just show us the game.

Also, do the Cardinals have a facial hair police? Because they SHOULD.
Dodgers are going to rock this series.

All for now.

Internet, Approve This!

2009-10-02T18:01:00.000-07:00

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the introductory number for the partially developed / never produced Batman: The Musical.

Wait, what’s that, you say? Back up? Glad to.

In 2002, a Batman musical was in development to be produced by Warner Brothers on Broadway. Keep in mind this was during the dark, dark ages of Batman when the last we had seen of the Caped Crusader in any real context was Schumacher’s Batman and Robin in 1998, which, according to many people, never actually happened.

This musical was a collaborative effort by Tim Burton, Jim Steinman, and David Ives. To reiterate:

Tim Burton – the maddeningly inconsistent visionary who can be so right (Edward Scissorhands, Ed Wood), and so wrong (Planet of the Apes, Batman Returns) with considerable aplomb.

Jim Steinman – former songwriter / producer for Meatloaf (Bat Out of Hell, and trust me, you can hear it in the song)

David Ives – genius playwright (All in the Timing, Polish Joke)

Interestingly enough, Steinman and Ives were the team that brought the Michael Crawford vehicle Dance of the Vampires to Broadway, which is the modern musical’s equivalent of, well, Batman and Robin.

How David Ives got mixed up in all this bu11sh1t, I’ll never know. Suffice to say, he did.

Anyway, Batman: The Musical languished in development for years, before finally, and thankfully being abandoned. However, Steinman has a website – Dark Knight of the Soul, where you can find five song demos. I’d love to discuss them all with you, but I’ll whet your appetite with this one, and let you visit the site yourself.

http://www.freewebs.com/batman_themusical/home.htm

Now, onto the song itself:

0:01 – Meatloaf Piano

0:25 – First lyrics are in latin. Classy move. ClASSy

I don’t know what you people think the citizens of Gotham City sound like when they’re singing, but if this isn’t it, then surely there is no God.

1:12 – On a serious note, this Salvation Army woman makes my pants tight.

2:17 – Looks like it’s gonna be a dark one tonight!

Then the Salvation Army Woman and a streetwalker join forces… now I know this is just a demo, so there’s only one voice singing, but still, this streetwalker and Salvation Army woman have disarmingly similar vocabularies. Could they be related in the play? God, I hope so.

3:47 – First appearance of the boy soprano (insert your own Robin joke here).

This goes on for a few more maddening minutes, plus more Meatloaf piano.

6:34 – the piano heralds the arrival of our hero, musical Batman.

7:01 – at long last, we hear the voice of our hero, and sadly, it could very well be Tom Wopat (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tom_Wopat)

The lyrics become so Meatloafian I become convinced that Batman is wearing a billowy white poet’s shirt and he’s carrying a lacy hankie.

7:47 –“I Work The Graveyard Shift” – har har! So do all the unemployable white people who work at gas stations!

8:20 – Someone fails to finish re-writing his lyrics before he shows it to the Batman / musical crowd (a sizeable number, they can almost all fit in my house) for approval.

9:41 – This song is still going.

10:25 – Now, for some reason, the singing stops and the piano just takes off. Could it… could it be that musical Batman is now dancing? One can only hope. If he is, it’s some sort of lusty folk dance better left to a barn full of Irish immigrants.

11:18 – Now, Batman earns the audience’s approval by whining.

12:30 – Someone drugs Batman just as he is finishing the song, and you can hear him collapse on the piano as the song concludes, an inexplicable 12 and a half minutes after it first began.

I'm Just Gonna Say It

2009-10-02T09:03:00.000-07:00

The Rangers were better than the Twins and Tigers this year, and yet one of the latter two will be in the postseason instead.

I think baseball is structured better than just about any professional sport, but this illustrates a glaring weakness in the playoff structure.

All for now.

When It Comes Down To It, Who's Really Signing That Contract Anyway?

2009-09-28T13:23:00.000-07:00

A whole crapload of interesting stuff happened on Mad Men last night (and as you can see, it's having an effect on my eloquence), but nothing else that happened (and I mean NOTHING, you Peggy-Duck enthusiasts) beats what went down in the penultimate scene of the episode, when...

SPOLIER ALERT! SPOILER ALERT!

... Bert Cooper laid the ever loving *smack* down and played a card he'd been holding onto for three years.

I love TV moments like that. The old coot's not so doddering after all, is he?

His eyes did something I've only seen another actor do once. In the God-awful campery that is The Devil's Advocate, Al Pacino looks at Keanu Reeves' mother and asks her if it's her first time in New York. As he does so, his eyes lean down and lick that poor old woman's soul. Robert Morse showed off the same move tonight, but with his littel pointy beard, it's sure to have tickled extra fierce.

Awesome.

All for now.

You Bet Your Bippy

2009-09-27T09:38:00.001-07:00

I went to an opera last night without singing.

Oh, it happened.

All for now.

It Might Seem Like I'm Not Writing

2009-09-23T13:48:00.001-07:00

But I am. Just not here. Writing in other places is well-known (in some places, like my brain or Vancouver) to slow down my blog output enormously.

Hot and cold, hot and cold... get used to it.

All for now.

Before the Lidge / Bourn At-Bat is Resolved, Let Me Just Say...

2009-09-05T18:51:00.000-07:00

This is delicious.

All for now.

Here's One That Oughta Get'cha Talkin'

2009-09-04T14:53:00.001-07:00

If you haven't seen this yet:
http://blogs.chron.com/talkingtolerance/2009/09/needed_petloving_atheists_in_t.html

Some ingenious entrepenuer has found a way to make a killing by offering to take care of your pet after the rapture. Chances are, if you believe in the rapture, you probably believe your dog can't get into heaven.

I'm not going to pass judgement on that opinion, but I will tell you that I don't believe it can be heaven without them, no matter what my Teachings of the Catholic Church class says about heaven and your memory of life on earth.

All for now.

Love Among the Ruins

2009-08-24T21:08:00.000-07:00

Mad Men's crowning glory is it's innate ability to identify cultural turning points and touchstones and interweave them into the fabric of their story so we can watch their effect on the characters, making their story the story of a generation.

In this week's episode, the series nailed one of the big ones with aplomb - Ann Margaret in Bye, Bye Birdie, and also subtly hinted at things to come. And while most people think of Ann's affect on the boys in 1963, Mad Men directs its focus on Peggy, arguably the show's most interesting character at this point, on the basis of her mystique alone.

The movie version of Bye, Bye Birdie baffles me (compared to the stage show, the movie is an old-fashioned acid trip), but Ann Margaret's appeal is unmistakable, even 46 years later. She can't sing, she's not all that attractive, but as Sal says (to paraphrase), she's got "that." Ann Margaret is the moment, and watching the characters watch her results in the suspension of our disbelief several stories up. It is 1963. In this way, Mad Men is a show about time travel in more ways than a show that's ABOUT time travel.

All for now.

August is Slow. What Do You Want?

2009-08-23T21:42:00.000-07:00

Yay to Eric Bruntlett for turning in the 15th unassisted triple play in Major League history tonight - and to end the game, no less.

Unassited triple plays are matters of dumb luck, mostly, but I've always had a soft spot for Eric and his beard of bees. Bruntlett is the kind of baseball guy that you want to do well - he did well here, and he's thriving on the Phillies. If they're not extremely glad to have him right now, they're idiots.

So, more blog soon, hopefully. I've been writing a lot, just not here.

All for now.

Memo to Good Times: Not So Fast There, Sonny Jim

2009-08-01T22:09:00.001-07:00

It's been said that baseball is a game of failure.

The Houston Astros decided to put that theory to the test this week, signing away all of the good feelings in favor of a memorable mini-collapse.

It can't be helped. Everyone knew Chicago and St. Louis were formidable allies. Doesn't take the hurt away, though. Just when I thought I was out...

Sometimes I don't know where I stand with the big Guy, but if he's smiling on me (and he might be, because I'm pretty sure I was funny tonight), then please, please don't let it be the Cubs. Let the NL playoff pool be the Dodgers, the Rockies, the Cardinals, and the Phillies. I can live with that. I cannot abide the baby bears, unless you are planning a wicked rug pull like you did last year, in which case, feel free to surprise me.

All for now.

Memo to Good Times: Feel Free to Roll

2009-07-22T19:37:00.000-07:00

It's been said Baseball is game of failure. Average three hits out of ten tries, and they might very well put you in the Hall of Fame. You win sixty, you lose sixty, and what you do with the other forty-two is what determines your season.

In a game with all of these cliches in play, sweeping the team leading your division to gain three games on them in the standings is about as good as it gets, especially in the dead of July.

Our Astros have something to play for.

All for now.

We Like Roy!

2009-07-17T20:33:00.000-07:00

At-bat #1: Manny comes up with two outs, bases empty. Roy Oswalt pitching.

Strike one.

Strike two.

Strike three, on the most devastating, agonizingly slow curve ball I've seen in real time. I couldn't believe I wasn't watching slo-mo.

Adding some shading to this situation, Roy Oswalt has been one of baseball's most outspoken anti-steroids ambassadors, and one of those seemingly above suspicion (that is to say, if his name came up associated with PED's, I would not only be surprised, I would be bitterly disappointed).

Manny, at the very least, appears to have taken the attention from this matter and endeavored to show remorse for his actions and a desire to change. That does not change the fact that he is guilty, but it is at least the right thing to do. As the senator from NY said to Charles Van Doren in Quiz Show, "I don't think an adult man of your intelligence should be congratulated for simply and at long last telling the truth."

So here comes Roy, on a perfect summer night in Chavez Ravine, to the mound to face the recently returned hometown hero (how fitting for LA is that he's a rent-a-celebrity?), and the Wizard completely overpowers Ramirez with the force of his talent. It was a definitive, emphatic statement, the kind that will fly completely over the talking heads at Baseball Tonight.

At-bat #2: Ramirez comes to the plate, grounds out to third. That's just good baseball.

All for now.

I Think it's Worth Noting

2009-07-11T19:32:00.000-07:00

...that sometimes things aren't my fault.

I don't like being held to a different set of rules that someone else doesn't have to follow. If you get to behave a certain way, then so do I. And if I don't, you shouldn't be able to, either. This basic principle will keep us from having to go to war.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that Ryan Reynolds is playing Green Lantern, which would've been fine if he were going to be Kyle Rayner, but making Reynolds Hal Jordan is something with which I will have struggles. If anything, anyway, Reynolds would've been a far more appropriate Wally West version of The Flash. You know this to be true.

All for now.

We Could Be Better Than the Rest

2009-07-10T21:17:00.000-07:00

Quiet summer night you are
a comforting companion in
those times you have to listen when
there's really nothing there

I wish the stars could see me but
we've hid them all away inside
a blanket made of brightness if
you live close in to town.

For Your Consideration

2009-07-03T13:02:00.000-07:00

As we approach tomorrow's July 4th holiday in the United States, I would like to take a moment to write about a man who I think, among the living, most embodies the American ideal: Pete Seeger.

When Pete Seeger passes, I think one of his enduring legacies will be his insistence that we all sing along with him. A tireless environmentalist, civil rights advocate, supporter of peace and first amendment rights, he and his indelibly American banjo will be most remembered singing songs along with his audience - sometimes to the point where you got tired of his effort, but therein lies the core of the man. Playing the standard "This Land is Your Land," written by his personal friend Woody Guthrie (Seeger's 90, after all), Pete Seeger becomes every American - a creature obsessed with wants and infatuated with the promises that America holds. What's rare about him, perhaps unique among prominent public figures (particularly musicians), is that whereas many Americans in his situation want these things for themselves or their progeny, Seeger wants them for you. That's why he wants you to sing along. In Pete Seeger's world, you're the star of the show.

How fantastic is that? While we fret over the United States of America's slow morph from democratic republic to capitalist oligarchy, Seeger frets on the banjo and helps turn the latter into something for the former. And before you say it, I KNOW, I KNOW, it's much easier in music than it is in practical, everyday life, but if art is a representation for our ideals, well, then, it gives me hope.

Happy 4th of July.

All for now.

Bees Are on the What Now?

2009-07-02T15:52:00.000-07:00

BEEKEEPER #1: Kind of quiet today.
BEEKEEPER #2: Yes... a little TOO quiet, if you know what I mean.
BEEKEEPER #1: I'm afraid I don't.
BEEKEEPER #2: You see, bees normally make a lot of noise. NO NOISE means - no bees.
BEEKEEPER #1: Hm, I see what you mean.

A BEE flies by.

Oh, there goes one now.
BEEKEEPER #2: TO THE BEEMOBILE!
BEEKEEPER #1: You mean your Chevy?
BEEKEEPER #2: ...yes.

Apparently, the Padres have been storing a mound of sugar they got from a jack-knifed sugar truck they found on the side of the road. Seems they want it all - the the dizzying highs, the terrifying lows, the creamy middles... Oh, sure, they may offend some of the blue-noses with their cocky stride and musky odors... they may not be the darling of the so-called city fathers who cluck their tongues, stroke their beards, and talk of what's to be done with Homer Simpson.

Bye Bye Backe

2009-06-28T07:22:00.000-07:00

Brandon Backe was designated for assignment on Friday evening to make room for Felipe Paulino to come off the disabled list and start Saturday night.

This was the right move, and Paulino emphatically proved that by pitching one of the best games of his career last night, but I can't help but feel bad for Backe, mainly because he provided this franchise with some of it's very best good times.

Win or lose, big-time drama seemed to follow Brandon Backe. He was the only pitcher I've ever seen strike out the side on 9 pitches. Brandon was the starting pitcher for the NL Wildcard Winning game in 2004, as well as the game 3 win in the NLDS that year, and perhaps the greatest game I've ever watched from start to finish live, game 4 of the NLCS that year, wherein Backe pitched eight innings of one-hit ball (would've been two hits if Beltran hadn't made an unbelievable catch in the eighth to rob Tony Womack of what probably would've been a triple had Beltran missed, since Berkman or Biggio would've had to chase it into the visitor's bullpen to retrieve it). That game... there's not much more I can say about it if you've seen it, but if you haven't - well, it was one of the best single nights of baseball EVER.

In 2005, Backe was the starting pitcher for the 18-inning Chris Burke game, and although he didn't do much to help our cause, you couldn't help but feel his presence in the middle of the action, rubbing bats for good luck and shouting at everyone who could hear him, offering encouragement and just being a generally good teammate. Then, in the last game of our World Series, down three games to none, Backe went out and pitched seven shutout innings against a hot-hitting White Sox lineup, essentially saying, "I'm not going to be the one who loses this for us." It's that kind of effort in big moments that endears him to you as a fan.

Since he's from Galveston, you get the feeling that he's closely associated with this town and this team. It's easy for him to root for the Astros because he grew up with them, and we root for him because of that.

Unfortunately, you don't become a good baseball player in only the big moments of your career. If the moment wasn't big for Backe, he did not thrive, and we got used to cringing at his line after a mid-season start - eight earned, too many walks, innopportune homers. More often that not in the last three years, that was the Brandon Backe we knew.

He didn't get any better this season, and truth be told, he was a long-shot to make the team anyway. He lasted as long as he did because enough people out there felt like we owed him for all the good times. I'm as sorry as anyone to see that the good times have apparently come to an end.

Good luck, Brandon.

All for now.

No, I'm Not Going to Start Making Crystal Meth. Stop Asking.

2009-06-27T06:14:00.001-07:00

I have a Breaking Bad inspired plan for the next few blogs. Stay tuned (but not really, since you can just come back here and check, and staying tuned to this blog would be kind of silly given the erratic nature of my posts).

All for now.

Just Like That Singing Nun

2009-06-27T05:50:00.000-07:00

Spending some time with the kids has gotten me to thinking about a few of my favorite things, so I thought I'd share with you a few that maybe you didn't already know about. I know I don't need to tell you much about my television habits or baseball, but I can't promise that some of that stuff won't sneak in there. I also know that in most cases I'm not breaking any new ground, but what the hell, I'm just putting m'self out there.

This list is not by any means comprehensive, and I've taken efforts to keep it somewhat short and eliminate the things that are really obvious, b/c chances are if you read this blog, you already know something about me. Also, these things are either somewhat new, or I just haven't really explained myself about them.

Music
Kate Micucci / Garfunkel & Oates
The Crazy Ivans
Blues Traveler (a joyous rediscovery)
Joshua Radin

Baseball
Speedy Centerfielders
Slick-Fielding Shortstops
Smart Catchers
Efficient Pitching
Triples

Summer Movies
Up
The Hangover
Staaahhhr Trek
The Silverado 19 Tomball IMAX

Reading
David McCollough
Rodris Roth
The recently resurrected Seanbaby
The Onion AV Club

Blogs
Lover of Strife
The Bloggess
Alan Sepinwall

Television / DVD / Internet Viewing
Jim DeShaies
Hank Schrader
Barney Stinson
SlumDunder Mifflinaire
Dr. Horrible

Summer Food
Sabra Classic Hummus
Green Grapes
Whataburger's Honey Butter Chicken Buscuit
Unsweetened Iced Tea
Jimmy John's
Beefsteak Tomatoes & Cottage Cheese
Rocky Road

Radio
Charlie Palillo
Music From the Movies
Eric Ladau
Wait...Wait... Don't Tell Me! & Car Talk (back to back!)

Miscellaneous
Dog Snuggling
Crepe Myrtles
Naps
Gnomes
Wife

Sign-offs
All for now

I Went to Camp!

2009-06-26T15:51:00.000-07:00

And now it's over, hoss! Children are not the boss of me no more.

Every now and then, I consider going into teaching as a profession. Then I do camp, and I'm glad I don't do that nine months out of the year.

I'm all achy and creaky and all I want to do this weekend is sleep.

Anyway, there's nothing like not being able to blog that makes you want to blog, but then you can't remember what it is that you wanted to write about in the first place, so *fart noise.*

Do you think living in the 18th century would be cool? Then come visit me for a week and I'll convince you that it certainly was NOT. Oh, sure, you could find clean water, but the teeth, my friends, the teeth! And jobs and nature were plentiful and there was no need to worry about being blown up by a nuclear nuclear, but there was no asteroid defense system in place! We didn't even know we needed one. And sure there was no urban overcrowding in the American colonies, but then again... bears. And there was no baseball yet, so I don't really know what you're talking about when you tell me you'd like to be a wood turner and live in Philadelphia in 1775. Chances are you'd have a soldier quartered at your house, doing your wife and eating all your food, so *fart noise.*

*Fart noise* on the whole bunch of it!

All for now.

Where Everybody Knows Your Name

2009-06-23T19:59:00.000-07:00

The most sublime opening segment to a sitcom episode comes from a late-series episode of Cheers, a perfect bit of character comedy, transcripted here for your pleasure:

A Man enters through the front door.

WOODY: Welcome to Cheers, what can I get you?
MAN: Beer, please.
WOODY pours.
You know, you can't go home again. The old saying's true. Twenty years ago, my job took me to Alaska. This is my first time in Cheers since the 60's, and everything's different.
Points to the stairs leading up to Melville's.
That staircase, you know, it used to go up the other wall... and the floor used to be all ugly green tile. They've even changed the paneling.
WOODY: Where?
MAN: Over there, behind Norm.

All for now.

Not That This Comes as a Surprise

2009-06-21T13:36:00.001-07:00

It's a lot more fun to watch a team win than it is to watch a team lose.

All for now.

One Tug Means Pull Me Up, Two Tugs Means I'm Out of Air

2009-06-05T08:46:00.001-07:00

It turns out Bill Brown is off because his mother passed away. These Apples wishes him the best.

I am about to enter the History Camp zone, which means you are very unlikely to be hearing from me between June 8 - 26. Camp eats my lunch for breakfast. I barely have time to do anything other than working with our campers, and that precious extra time is devoted to getting all of my other daily work stuff done.

I haven't exactly been setting a record pace here, so I don't suppose you all will miss me terribly while I'm gone. Nonetheless, an explanation prior to the abscence will keep any surprise kvetchers from kvetching so fraughtfully.

All for now.

Whozzah? Wha...?

2009-06-03T20:17:00.000-07:00

Where was Bill Brown tonight? Not that I hate Dave Raymond, but...

Bill Brown has been the voice of the Astros since my childhood. When the time comes, and there's no indication that it may be coming soon, I want the opportunity to say goodbye properly.

I'm operating on the assumption that Raymond was filling in for Bill tonight while he took a well-deserved night off.

Word out.

Seven-Thirty-Seven Down Over ABQ

2009-06-01T14:34:00.000-07:00

Okay, I'm gonna try this, and I'm starting with the season finale because if I decide to abandon this project next year, no one is bound to notice.

*SPOILERS AHEAD*

No, "ABQ" did not stun me the way the way last week's "Pheonix" did. "Pheonix" had me talking to the couch pillow while my dogs stared at me like I was a crazy person. "Breakage" saw me pacing the room, shouting at my television. "Negro y Azul" kept me from sleeping that night. "4 Days Out" had me sick to my stomach with anxiety.

"ABQ," as far as season finales go, is one of the best I've ever seen, and yet it's not as good as at least four other episodes from its thirteen episode season. How awesome is that?

I should clarify at this point if it isn't abundantly clear that I am now a full-fledged Breaking Bad fanamaniac. I am totally caught up in the world Vince Gilligan has created. The withdrawls I experience until Season Three premieres at some point in 2010 may be on par with anything Walt can cook up in his RV.

Why on earth has NBC (I'm singling them out because of their dismal failure this year) not picked up the AMC model for TV-making? Find a genius, allow him complete creative control of his series, and let him do what he does. Allow him to hire quality writers / directors / actors who are free from trying to please network censors, and the ratings will come. Breaking Bad, while not the same story as The Big Bang Theory's stunning rise to prominence, has made a significant jump in the ratings between this year and last year on the strength of being THAT GOOD. I know that doesn't necessarily work for all shows, particularly comedies, unfortunately, but maybe NBC would benefit from cutting some of the fat and focusing on becoming a critical darling for a few years. It's a better bet that some of their shows will actually get popular. I know this is unfair to The Office and 30 Rock, which are both awesome, but the general truth about NBC is that it is in real trouble as far as scripted programming is concerned.

Now I'm pretty far off of my original topic, which was to again extol the virtues of Breaking Bad's incredible second season, and to let you know that to avoid completely cutting the show out of my life for nine months, I will gladly come and watch it with any of you, and then talk about it. Or just talk about it after you watch it. Please, folks. I need more people in this club so I can geek out about it.

All for now.

Jingo All the Way

2009-05-30T07:05:00.000-07:00

I feel like the media is trying to fire Cecil Cooper.

The Houston Chronicle's Jerome Solomon and Richard Justice, and 790 AM's Ted DeLuca and John Lopez have been talking about nothing but the firing of Cooper for the last two weeks, speaking of it as though it were a foregone conclusion.

In the last decade or so, sports media has been building to something, that until recently, I did not realize was really starting to bother me. There are no "sports reporters" anymore - they've been replaced by sports editorialists, who are more often than not personalities.

Look at Richard Justice's blog, for instance. At first, I was going to complain about how the blog, which started out as a(n intended) humorous side project between columns had morphed into a blathering irrelevancy that started to bleed into his proper columns, but then I realized that all blogs are basically that, and having a blog as part of your official workload is the problem in the first place. Some editor somewhere (I'm sure Houston is not alone here) decided that the cult of personality was going to be the savior of print media, and started requiring columnists to keep blogs.

Thing is, we don't tune in to sports media for their opinions the way we do entertainment and dining critics. Sports reporting used to be news with a little bit of analysis thrown in. Now it's all - I can't use the word analysis because it seems too lofty for what these guys do - criticism. Non-constructive at that.

Of course, we don't need Sports news the way we used to. We DVR the games so we can see what happened for ourselves, and now even the most casual fan can use the internet to get the latest on Brandon Backe's rehab assignment or the pitching staff at Salem that's supposed to be on the rise. But boy, do we love to discuss it.

So sports personalities help us facilitate that. The good ones (like Charlie Palillo) stand apart from the pack, stating the facts and letting them vent, and when they do offer up an opinion, it's reserved and backed up, and it almost never feeds into the hype. The Chronicle and the Monsters go it the easy way, by picking up a big stick covered in gasoline and sticking it into the embers, igniting a huge fire out of something that was simply meant to keep our feet warm.

This leads me back to where I led off: I'm sure discontent within the organization has led some to question the security of Cecil Cooper's job. But I would bet you dinner at Fogo De Chao that it was far from a foregone conclusion, and that cooler heads might have prevailed before guys like Solomon and DeLuca stuck their big gasoline-soaked sticks into the mess and made it an issue that couldn't be avoided. Now everyone who follows the Houston Astros has been innundated with the nonsense of "Cecil Cooper should be fired" to the point where half or two-thirds of them believe it to be true because this is their sports *news,* after all, and they start clamoring for Coop's head, booing him at home when he comes out to make a pitching change or something. And Drayton McLane, one of the biggest sheep in the flock, hears this, and decides that the manager has to go.

Maybe Cooper needs to be fired. I don't know, and I don't want to discuss it. My beef is with the sports media for creating a situation in which he has to be. They've made themselves a part of the story. It's irresponsible journalism, and I am sorry that it had to end this way for a decent, hard-working guy, a guy who will probably be a lot more forgiving towards his transgressors than I would be.

All for now.

This Sunday's Breaking Bad Finale

2009-05-28T12:12:00.000-07:00

If this doesn't get you watching, nothing else will - http://weblogs.newsday.com/entertainment/tv/blog/2009/05/breaking_bad_the_finale.html

I was also reminded today at lunch of an image that has to make the top ten, but I don't know what I would cut out: Walt smashing the hell out of that paper towel dispenser after he gets the update on his cancer.

Just fantastic. I've been thinking about this show all week!

All for now.

Save Walter White

2009-05-24T21:37:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned this a few times already on this page, but if you haven't seen "Breaking Bad," you've got to see "Breaking Bad." If you like your shows about crime and drugs and cops and dealers, and refracted views of money and family and the American idea of success, this is your show.

*MILD SPOILER*
In tonight's episode, which is one of the most arresting hours of T.V. I've ever watched, Walter's son launches a fundraising website called "Save Walter White," and it's the most poignant damned thing, because every week it gets clearer and clearer that this man cannot be saved. One of the major themes of The Sopranos when it was on is that people can't change, and AMC's two big shows - this and Mad Men, which is brilliant for a variety of other reasons - pick up that mantle and run with it in a big way. If you couldn't get into Tony Soprano because he wasn't identifiable to you, then Walter is the man with which you need to start spending your Sunday nights.

*LESS MILD SPOILER*
It's a a little premature since the Season 2 finale is next week, but I want to celebrate the show's ability to create moments with a list of my ten favorites from this Season. So, yeah, maybe this will change in seven days, but for now:

10. The cold open with Badger and DJ Qualls
9. Tio and the Burrito
8. Skinny Pete gets robbed by Spooge and the Skank
7. Saul talks his way out of being murdered
6. Hank's Brewery - both scenes
5. Walter, Skyler, and the facial mask
4. Walter shows his baby the money
3. The tortoise explodes
2. Walter confronts the up and coming dealers outside of the home improvement store
1. The last scene with Jane

You let me know if you want to watch this show, and I will watch it with you. Be warned, though - I'll be half watching you to see your reaction.

All for now.

I Need a Sheep

2009-05-19T09:08:00.000-07:00

Pete, our Aussie Shepherd/Terrier mix, won't stop herding Rosie, our black lab mix. Whenever he senses I'm about to head upstairs for the night, he goes to get her, and follows her upstairs, nipping at her heels. Moreover, he'll often trap her in the kitchen or a bedroom, and I may not notice until I hear her whining. Then, when I look over, he's standing guard in front of the door, just looking at her.

Pete loves having a job. I've got to think of one for him that doesn't drive Rosie crazy.

All for now.

Keep the Doctor Away

2009-05-15T18:37:00.000-07:00

What's that, you say? What's the deal with you and apples? Well, since you asked...

The name Milillo means "Little Apple" in Italian ("mili" - Apple, "illo"- little). When I learned this in May of 2005, I started using "Red Delicious" as a joke monniker, although Red Delicious apples are not known for being particularly large or small, but the cultivar itself is reknowned for being resistant to disease, which becomes important later in its formation around my self-identity.

Apples can be helpful in preventing dementia, lowering cholesterol, decreasing cancer risk in the lungs, colon, and prostate, and eaten regularly, help keep your weight under control (of course, if you eat lots of apples, you're probably less inclined to consume buckets of lard).

Although it was right there in front of my face, I never realized how important apples were in the cultural consiousness. In Norse mythology, they are associated with eternal youth, and in Greek mythology, they are a forbidden fruit. The Judeo-Christian story is likely well-known among this readership.

An apple, according to legend, got Isaac Newton started. Apples are also strongly associated with Louisa May Alcott, whom many of you know I slept with once. Johnny Appleseed (who lived in the area now known as Ohio, which is where you'll find the bulk of the Milillo cultivar) is a key figure in early American folklore, and one of our nation's first animal-rights activits.

After China and the United States, Italy is known as one of the world's leading producers of apples. The name Milillo orginates in Siracusa, a port town on the eastern-most tip of Sicily. Siracusa is where the black death entered Europe. Because our name persists, I find myself bragging baselessley and often about the Milillo's superior immune system (there it is). I enjoy thinking about the original Milillo's as apple farmers, tending their orchards in the hills just beyond the seaside outside of Siracusa, living a simple, peaceful existence. Sure, I know that Sicily carries a stigma, but my people at their core were likely peasant folk. Sure, there may have been the occasional bad one, but don't let them spoil the bunch.

The fruit of knowledge, this vital fruit, this ancient staple of man's diet - it is who I am. Knowing this makes me feel connected to the world, and better about my place in it.

All for now.

Professor Thaddeus Q. Tanqueray's Fantabulous Turd Polish

2009-05-13T10:20:00.000-07:00

I've added some sites to the right, but don't get excited. Project These Apples is still less than thrilling.

Your Five is Only Half My Ten

2009-04-21T19:01:00.000-07:00

This "Top Five" application on facebook is fun for me because it's basically an extension of my favorite type of blog: the list blog. Still, I feel limited by five. Ten has long been where it's at, as David Letterman has taught us.

I don't know, it feels like I can be comprehensive with a list of ten in a way that five won't allow me. For instance, in a list of my five top favorite tv shows of all time, I feel like I did a critical disservice to several of my favorites, both old and new. Sorry, That's My Bush and Andy Griffith, there's no room for you.

Anyway, my lists here will always be ten.

All for now.

A Bear in a Studebaker

2009-04-12T13:36:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking about that part of The Muppet Movie where Rolf & Kermit are singing "I Hope That Something Better Comes Along," which, if you haven't seen it, what? Okay, here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_IctDbZ-t1I

Anyway, after Rolf sings, "the pitter patter of soles, the little feet of tadpoles," and Kermit corrects him by saying "Um, Rolf, tadpoles don't have feet," Rolf says "Oh, sorry about that," which is very polite of him, because I would have looked Kermit right in the eye and said, "I AM A TALKING DOG, PLAYING A SONG THAT I JUST MADE UP FOR YOU ON THE PIANO."

That would've shut him up.

All for now.

Television and Whatnot

2009-04-09T22:18:00.001-07:00

In conversation today, two friends and I observed that even though there doesn't seem to be as much good television as there used to be, what's worth watching is great. Without further ado, here is my list of ten shows you should be watching if you're not. For the most part, I'm not breaking any new ground here, but that doesn't make these recommendations any less significant. Bottom line - give each of these shows at least a three episode trial period, and be prepared to explain to me why you didn't like them.

1o. Krod Mandoon and the Flaming Sword of Fire - saw the pilot episode tonight, and I'm sold. It's a sword and sorcery comedy that hilariously glosses over and misinterprets fantasy fandom the way Hercules and Xena used to. That may make it seem a little behind the times, but don't worry - it's also just funny in a slightly anachronistic, wildly cheap-looking way. Comedy Central, Thursday nights (I think).

9. The Big Bang Theory - aside from being one of the Barenaked Ladies' final projects as a group (they did the opening theme), it's a truly smart, and even though it's a sitcomy as sitcoms get, an uncannily accurate representation of general geekdom. As a side note, Jim Parsons, who plays the aspbergerian Sheldon, is a Klein HS grad and a former member of Infernal Bridegroom. 7 p.m. Mondays, CBS

8. Important Things with Demetri Martin - it's hit or miss, but when it hits, oh mercy. Martin's humor is so smart that some sketches will require repeat viewings. If Sesame Street grew up and became a sketch comedy show, this would probably be pretty close. Comedy Central, Wednesday nights.

7. The Office - do I really have to get into this one? If you're familiar with it, but haven't watched in a while, you really do need to catch up. Several character paradigms are about to shift dramatically. NBC, Thursday nights.

6. 30 Rock - And while you're enjoying The Office, give Liz Lemon and the gang some love. This show is entirely too classy for its' own good, and owes a huge debt of gratitude to the fate of Arrested Development for NBC having the balls to keep it on the air. Watch it! NBC, Thursday nights.

5. Breaking Bad - If you haven't seen this show yet, be prepared. It will take over. It's already climbing in the ratings, and I'm expecting it to have Sopranos-style juggernautitude (yes, I just made that up!) by the time the third season comes around. How do I know? It's already been picked up, fools! AMC, Sunday nights.

4. John Adams - it's a miniseries, and it's over. I don't care. Go out and rent it if you don't want to buy it sight unseen. You will skip lunches for two weeks to save up and get it. Every moment of it is monumentally important and serves as a crucial reminder of the kind of people who made this country. HBO, run finished - available at all DVD outlets.

3. Kings - Ian McShane. You want to hear a man talk, you can't find a better hour and place to listen. NBC, Saturday night death slot.

2. How I Met Your Mother - I have such a hard time selling people on this one, and I can't understand why. Yes, it's a traditional three-camera sitcom with a laugh track, but no laugh in there is sweetened or cheap. Plus, it provides a dynamite five-person ensemble: Josh Radnor, Alyson Hannigan, Jason Segel, Cobie Smulders, and Neil Patrick Harris, an impeccable sense of continuity (even better than The Office in this regard), and many, many quotable, memorable moments, often associated with one Barney - wait for it - Stinson. This show is firmly ensconced, does well in the ratings, and will finish on it's own terms - but that doesn't mean you should put it off until it's over. CBS, Monday nights.

1. Mad Men - what can I say that hasn't already been said? One of my favorite plays is Night and Her Stars, a Richard Greenberg piece about the quiz show scandal of the 1950's. The language is gorgeous - no one writes like Greenberg... except these guys. Watch this:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=R2bLNkCqpuY

thank me later, and watch Mad Men. They're replaying the 2nd season right now, and the 3rd season kicks off this summer.

All for now.

I Should Explain

2009-03-26T12:22:00.000-07:00

Julius Caesar. That's why you haven't heard more from me lately.

www.towncentertheatre.com

We'll get something going after April 5, promise.

All for now.

This is a Scare Tactic, Right?

2009-03-07T16:08:00.001-08:00

I mean, there's no way that the Astros are this bad... at least I hope not.

Wait, do I? I love baseball, and will probably watch a butt of games this season anyway, but as long as losing 100 games doesn't result in Oswalt, Berkman, and Pence being sold off for spare parts, would that really hurt so much this year?

From an economic standpoint, probably. Houston is one of those towns that refuses to sponsor you unless you're the biggest and the best always. Still, it would be nice to have dibs on one one of the top three draft picks in 2010.

Then Something Went Wrong with Faye Wray and King Kong

2009-03-01T06:52:00.000-08:00

It's time to discuss an issue in my geekery:

The Order of the Stick is this fantastic little webcomic that I love to read, but I'm consternated by the slowed output of it's creator, Rich Burlew. On the one hand, I feel I have no right to complain about something that is free and otherwise wonderful, but at the same time, it's very difficult when a story is at a critical juncture for strips to stop appearing three times per week and start appearing once every 7 - 10 days. And this isn't something recent, either. It's been months, man.

I know whatever is causing this - writers block? distractions caused by the release of his next book? - is not my business, but at the same time, I feel some sort of explanation would assuage my frustrations. And it's minor, I know it's such a minor thing in life, but lately I feel like the defining trademark of being a fan is setting yourself up for disappointment - whether it's Steven Page leaving BNL or 30 Rock ingnoring the secondary characters that made it so appealing in the first place - and I don't want that. And more than anything, I don't want another Firefly - a situation where I get so completely enthralled with something only to have it yanked out from under me.

So, Rich - in the extraordinarily unlikely event that you read this, let your fans know what's up. Or, if it's simply because you've become wildly successful, and therefore lazy, well then, get your ass back to work.

All for now.

Scheduled Spring Training Television Broadcasts

2009-02-25T12:02:00.001-08:00

Obviously, you'll need FOX Sports Houston in order to view these games.

Thursday, February 26, 12:05 p.m., @ ATL (ESPN)

Friday, March 20, 12:05 p.m. vs. CIN

Monday, March 23, 12:05 p.m. vs. FLA

Tuesday, March 24, 12:05 p.m. vs. NYM

Wednesday, March 25, 12:05 p.m. @ STL

Tuesday, March 31, 6:05 p.m. vs. ATL

Saturday, April 4, 1:05 p.m. vs. CLE (at Minute Maid Park)

Otherwise, you can catch games on the radio, usually on 790 AM. Most games are day games - 12:05 p.m., but it's all subject to change. For a complete schedule, go here: http://houston.astros.mlb.com/schedule/index.jsp?c_id=hou&m=2&y=2009

If you're listening on your computer, you can get the entire MLB radio package for $15 / year, which is a tremendous bargain.

Let 2009 begin!

12:05 p.m. Central on AM 790 (Houston)

2009-02-25T05:51:00.000-08:00

End of Winter
by: Eve Merriam

Bare-handed reach
to catch
April's
incoming curve.
Leap higher
than you thought you could and
Hold:
Spring,
Solid,
Here.

A Deleted Scene from "You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown"

2009-02-24T13:25:00.000-08:00

PSYCHIATRIC HELP, 5 CENTS

(Outdoors. From Peanuts, the “Psychiatric Help, 5 cents” booth. LUCY is singing to CHARLIE BROWN.)

LUCY: Yes! It’s amazingly true! For whatever it’s worth, Charlie Brown – you’re you!

CHARLIE: Gosh, Lucy! I feel so much better. You’re a true friend. A true friend.

LUCY: That’ll be 5 cents, please.

(Musical button. Playoff as CHARLIE BROWN crosses the stage to another booth, this one also advertising pyschiatric help for a nickel. Behind this booth sits CHRISTOPHER WALKEN.)

WALKEN: Hello, Chuck. Why so glum?

CHARLIE BROWN: Well, Christopher Walken, Lucy’s advice always seems like a good idea at first, but afterwards, I realize it’s all just a big joke at my expense. I don’t know what to do.

WALKEN: You know, I once had a problem much like the one you are describing.

CHARLIE BROWN: Really?

WALKEN: Yes. You see, one time, I was hosting Saturday Night Live, and Cheri Oteri got the idea up her pants to play a trick on me. She replaced my cue cards with nude images of Savion Glover. All in all, it was very distracting.

CHARLIE BROWN: What?

WALKEN: It made me feel very insecure, inside. I liken the sensation to being on a Japanese game show where they force you to eat your own dog... or, you know, having someone “thump” you on the forehead. I hate that.

CHARLIE BROWN: That’s terrible! It’s just like how Lucy always tries to get me to kick the football! I know she’s going to take it away before I can kick it, but somehow, I always fall for it.

WALKEN: I don’t think that’s the same at all. Now, listen to my story, because it’s very important. You see, Cheri thought she was making a big joke for people to laugh at, and perhaps she was, but what she didn’t know was that I was waiting for her in her car after the show was over.

CHARLIE BROWN: I don’t think I like where this story is going.

WALKEN: I took her back to the home I keep in upstate New Hampshire. There, under the watchful eye of the wheat fields, I cut out her tounge and taught her the joys and pain of a lifetime of yard work. Until the day she dies from exposure to the sun’s weathering elements, she will trim my hedge maze, grooming it until it becomes a mighty fortress.

CHARLIE BROWN: Oh my God.

WALKEN: You know, people tell me now that they never really liked Cheri Oteri when she was on Saturday Night Live. Still, no one has ever sent me a “Thank You” note. It’s very rude.

CHARLIE BROWN: Listen, here’s 5 cents. I think I’d better be going... Snoopy’s gonna be hungry, and...

WALKEN: Charlie Brown... is such a funny name. I watch a lot of “Murphy Brown.” Have you ever seen it?

CHARLIE BROWN: No...

WALKEN: It comes on Nick at Nite. Promise me you’ll never appear on “Murphy Brown,” Chuck. Because that would just be, (laughs) too weird!

CHARLIE BROWN: You got it.

WALKEN: That’ll be 5 cents, please.

CHARLIE BROWN: But I just gave you –

WALKEN: That’ll be 5 cents, Chuck. Don’t make me argue.

CHARLIE BROWN: No! No arguments here. Well, I’ve got to be going...

(HE bolts.)

WALKEN: What a strange child.

The End.

I'm Blinding You With Science

2009-02-24T08:07:00.000-08:00

FYI - Tomorrow's poem won't be by me, it's something I re-post at the beginning of every baseball season when Spring Training games start. Today is me, though.

Adaptation

Lichen attaches to all sorts of surfaces,
and moss grows on trees
wherever it’s damp.
When it’s warm enough
sure there are ferns to be found,
and conifers are in need
of huge spaces to camp.
Then angiosperms
(those plants that have flowers)
grow in few places and may
bloom only one time
when the weather is right,
and the soil isn’t over-packed,
and the bedrock beneath
must be shale, or it’s lime.
Their pistils burst forth
with one type of pollen
for one type of insect –
it’s taking a chance,
when your needs are so tailored to the world
around you, you’d die otherwise,
and that’s called an advance.

Ashes to Northern Ash, Dust to Rosin

2009-02-22T06:49:00.001-08:00

This Wednesday is

1. Ash Wednesday, one of the more obviously ritualistic days on the Catholic calendar, and
2. the day of the first Spring Training game for our local nine (or in this case, initial squad of about fifty)!

I'm bringing this up because I will consider giving up a great many things for Lent, but if someone were to suggest I go without baseball for forty days, starting on the very day that it returns to our lives, especially after this past off-season, I would laugh until you gave up the idea, and if you still persisted, I would beat you with a bat and then give you up for Lent.

Ladies and gentlemen, our long national nightmare is nearly at a close. Rejoice, and be glad!

All for now.

Stopping By Robert Frost's Car on a Sunny Afternoon

2009-02-20T10:25:00.000-08:00

Here's an oldie, but a goodie. One day at UST, a gentleman came to lecture on Robert Frost, and he brought a car that Frost rode in. He parked that car in the middle of the sidewalk on our academic mall. So I wrote this and put it on the car's winshield. It lasted all of five minutes.

Who's car this is I think I know,
he's slowly decomposing, though.
He will not mind me stopping here
to admire the automobile he drove.

My friend, he thinks it strange, you see -
the actions of the university.
The sidewalk is no place for cars
of the Poet Laureate of Kennedy.

He gives my striped shirt-sleeve a shake
to tell me it is getting late.
I hate to quit this old antique,
but see no cause to procrastinate.

The maroon hue is lovely, dark, and deep,
but I wish that it had been a jeep
with mileage that was not so steep,
with mileage that was not so steep.

All for now.

You Should Try Not to End Sentences with a Preposition at.

2009-02-08T00:07:00.001-08:00

Taking a cue from The Blogess... I think this pretty much sums up what we've been about so far, wouldn't you say?

I would like to see someone like Lover of Strife or French Roast try this, as they have written roughly one billion words more than I have.

All for now.

Yes, This Blog is Also About Baseball. No, You Cannot Have Another Puppy.

2009-01-29T11:42:00.000-08:00

I'm going through withdrawls.

Had lunch with a friend today, talked about baseball. Got back to the office, can't stop thinking about baseball. Even the idea of Roger Clemens rubbing liniment on his testicles can't deter my need to watch grown men throw balls and swing bats.

All for now.

Love (n.)

2009-01-26T20:24:00.000-08:00

Words fail me
but you
never do.

These Are the Thoughts That Keep Me Awake at Night

2009-01-23T19:50:00.000-08:00

Were you aware that in 1956 a pair of commercial jets were involved in a mid-air collision over the Grand Canyon? Thanks to Wikipedia (the - online encyclopedia *wait for it* ANYONE can edit), I do, now.

I know, I know it happened over fifty years ago. One of my parents wasn't even alive then, and it's silly to be terrified about it, but when I read the article, my knees wouldn't work for an hour afterward. I'm still really freaked out about it and I read this article the day of the U.S. Airways incident (the Hudson River one where even those who ordered chicken got fish), which was two weeks ago, nearly.

At the risk of sounding non-specific, some things are just not your thing, man. And flying in an aerro-plane - well, that is simply not my scene.

All for now.

Blah-g.

2009-01-21T18:54:00.000-08:00

This blog is not a winner in 2009.

Anyway, I added some links in the "also good" section, and if you hadn't may I recommend Franz's "A Great Big Ugly..."? It's one of the blogs I follow, and it operates at a fantastic level of genius. Like me, he does not post frequently, but when he does, it's light-years ahead of anything I put up here.

All for now.

I'm Bill McNeal! On Crack! I like Boys!

2009-01-08T11:58:00.000-08:00

I think part of the reason my brain has been so quiet recently is because of the darkness in my soul that is a lack of BASEBALL. We're a little over halfway through the offseason, and I'm really starting to feel it. I want to talk about it, I want to see it, and I really want to hear it. Even the gentle hum of a spring training exhibition in the background would be an all-healing salve for me about now.

I had a fever the last couple of days, and I thought it was attributed to bacteria or a virus, or something, but it is not. It is baseball fever. Now put our your cereal so I can sneeze in it, because it's the most delicious fever of all to have.

All for now.

Never Brought to Mind

2008-12-31T07:24:00.000-08:00

Sorry, folks. I'm in a dry spell, and I don't want to keep posting the crappy type of blogs I've been putting up lately.

Quality over quantity. I promise the next time I write, it'll be because it's good.

Thanks for understanding.

All for now.

Underwhelmed

2008-12-18T21:23:00.001-08:00

A couple of things:

W. Mark Felt, "Deep Throat," died today. History will remember him as the man who disappointed more conspiracy theorists at once than any other single person in history.

"Mark Felt - really? Couldn't it have been Kissinger, or Gene Rayburn, or someone else?"

Second - Aaron Boone? Seriously? I really don't like the message our free agent signings are sending. I've heard the whole spiel, of course, the economy and Drayton and what-not, but Aaron Boone is a white flag with a third baseman's mitt. I'd rather bring in Chris Johnson a little early and let him mature at the big-league level.

That said, if we concentrate on developing a couple of middle infielders, we could be kind of awesome in 2011.

All for now.

The Last Three Outs

2008-12-17T20:42:00.001-08:00

Rest in peace, Dave Smith.

Dave was the Astros' closer when I was a kid, and closed games for our famous 1986 squad. He died today of a heart attack at age 53. I'm pretty sure he was non-steroidy, so that's an awfully early age to die. Still, pitchers aren't exactly models of fitness, even if we do classify them as athletes.

Dave still holds the Astros record for career saves - more than Billy Wagner. To put it in perspective of Valverde's record-setting single season of fourty-four, he'd have to have 4 1/2 seasons straight like that to tie Smith.

All for now.

I'm Up Early

2008-12-17T03:45:00.000-08:00

...because it's surgery day for Pete.

I don't want to get all Bob Barker on you, but if you have cats or dogs and no plans for progeny, please spay or neuter them. It removes animal shelters from the equation when it comes to euthanization of a population of strays that spirals beyond their budget / control. What's more, it frees your pet from urges you can't give them the freedom to act upon.

Anyway, reserve your best wishes / prayers / etc. for Pete today, and especially for the doctors who will handle his procedure, and for the vet techs / nurses who care for him before and after. He can be quite a handful, and I've already pissed of SNAP once.

All for now.

Now I Lay Me Down Not To Sleep

2008-12-11T01:26:00.000-08:00

Waking up in the middle of the night for reasons unknown finds me mourning Robert Prosky, one of those "that guy" actors who you would know on sight, but rarely ever think about. I love those guys, and Prosky was one of the best.

Their stage resumes are always ridiculously impressive, and you find yourself saying, "They were in that?!" Prosky was the original Sheldon Levene (the Jack Lemmon role) in Glengarry Glen Ross, among many others.

All for now.

Pet Renegades

2008-12-10T12:15:00.000-08:00

In case you were wondering: http://www.chron.com/disp/story.mpl/pets/others/6156855.html

It often comes up among friends of mine that none of us knows the specifics of how to legally own a monkey. Now we do. According to the law in Houston, I can legally have my Golden Lion Tamarin butler now!

Not too long ago, two grizzly bears were rescued by the SPCA from a north Harris County home. As Chris explained, the story isn't that a man had two grizzly bears, it's that he had the nueterables to mistreat them.

All for now.

Christmas Bells Are Ringing (On TV, At Saks)

2008-12-08T18:24:00.000-08:00

Some things that are good on stage make terrible movies. Some movies should have never been adapted into musicals. And sometimes, though it's more rare than the first two, both are really good.

Anyway, we think Merry Christmas, George Bailey is pretty darn good, and we hope you'll make plans to see it if you haven't already. It's a Wonderful Life is one of those movies you either love or hate, and I happen to love it, but I wouldn't categorize myself as an overly optimistic or sentimental person. I think the movie has an awfully crisp dark side, and it's ending is sappy, yes, but that's because the circumstances have to reinforce the lesson.

All for now.

Mark Me

2008-12-02T08:04:00.000-08:00

A fellow we'll just call The Admiral once chided me for dealing in absolutes after I launched into a diatribe about the woefully wronged Best Original Song category at the Academy Awards (someday, friends and lovers, this will make a blog all its own), telling me that just because something was my opinion, it did not instantly become the gospel truth.

In matters of grave importance, perhaps. But for trivial stuff like the Best Song Oscar, I think I can comfortably state that my opinion is worth more than Gregory Peck's corpse on this one.

Regardless, I felt the need to disclaim all my further stated opinions as just that whenever we spoke of things.

And then one day I mentioned that the Pope was getting pretty old. Less than a month later, he died.

Henceforth, in any disclaimer of my opinion, it should be noted that while my opinions are not country, and therefore cannot harelip the Pope, they are sufficiently powerful enough to deal a death blow every once in a while.

Since B16 has been a fairly inneffectual pontiff up to this point, I'm gonna leave him alone. I also like calling him B16, and referring to the Pope-mobile as "B16's Hoopty."However, the minute he starts showing aggression towards Jews, homosexuals, or Super Earth, you'd better believe I'm gonna have to give him the "your life depends upon my view of you" look.

All for now.

Reason to Believe

2008-12-01T11:01:00.001-08:00

I heard somewhere that even cold November rain doesn't last forever, so here we are at the beginning of another December. I think the newness of the month has yet to fully sink in for me, but if the weather forecast is any indication, we are in for a nice, chilly, sunny month. Nothing would suit me better.

2008 has been a relatively crummy year for Red Delicious and bride (Pete being a notable exception), and I don't really believe that the calendar determines our luck / happiness / sexual prowess, etc., but if 2009 is going to be better for me, I really wouldn't mind if some of that karma or whatever wanted to leak over into the last month of this year. Besides, if 2009 is so brimming with promise, who am I to complain if it's cup runneth over?

I was an exception, but I wasn't much help this year.

All for now.

Joe vs. the Vaccum

2008-11-28T21:25:00.001-08:00

It's a really big boost to the self-esteem when I fix the vaccum cleaner. I'm not at all that handy, but the vaccum and I have come to an understanding, so whenever it gets fritzy, I can fix it, and suddenly I feel like Mr. Big Shot Handyman Husband.

If only I could turn this proclivity into a sense for cars. I wish I had the time or know-how to take mine apart, see how it all works, and then put it back together. I'll bet I'd treat it very differently.

All for now.

Yon Rennaissance Festival

2008-11-28T18:20:00.000-08:00

Sweet maiden of the spit,
grant now I woo
that I might sup upon suckling pig
this noon.

No, the Rennaissance Festival is *not* very Rennaissance-y, especially when the majority of people there are either in very bad cosutmes, wildly inconsistent costumes, or no costumes at all. Still, the folks that put it on work very hard to make it look and sound good, and it is muddy, which is pretty Rennaissance-y. And most people are too poor to afford the food, which is VERY Rennaissance-y.

It's the getting out that presents a problem. FM 1774 is, to put it mildly, unequipped for the mass exodus at the end of the day. Since they've taken to following Disney World's lead on the way they run parts of the park (bathrooms get an A++), I would suggest they hire a park manager from Disney who knows something about how they handle their parking / traffic situation. I think some people would even be okay with parking (hell, they're paying for everything else) if there was a shuttle that ran from 1488 & 1774 to the park and back. Law enforcement would probably like it. You could still have special on-site parking for groups, camping, guest artists, and employees, and then you'd have a sizeable increase in acreage for expansion.

Just a thought. Of course, I'm not too sure about my event management skills lately.

All for now.

Delilah!

2008-11-28T06:20:00.000-08:00

Continuous Christmas favorites are back on Sunny 99.1 FM, which means I'm going to be hearing a lot more of Delilah, the DJ who cares about you: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Delilah_(radio_show)

I like to imagine Delilah broadcasts her show from beside a cozy fire on a bearskin rug, while sipping hot chocolate petting her eight pound persian cat, Snoofles, all while on the other side of the glass, her producers are trying to convince her of how bad the fire, animal fibers, and hot liquids are for their radio equipment. But Delilah cares not.

To change the subject completely, I have some serious concerns about my washing machine, but I know so little about how washing machines work that I have not fixed it. If anyone knows why a washer would try to travel across the room on spin cycle by violently shaking itself, please let me know.

In other news, I had my first Puerto Rican Thanksgiving yesterday, and I found it to be very, very tasty. If you're wondering what it's like, it is very much like a regular thanksgiving, but with yucca and far fewer vegetables. My plan for future years is to introduce my tropical in-laws to more colorful side dishes for the sake of everyone's hearts and bowels, both of which are hurting from an overabundance of starch right now.

Finally, it's Rosie's birthday this week. I have no idea when she was born exactly, since we adopted her at ten weeks and she was born in a ditch somewhere, but according to our vet, she was born in the last week of November 2005. If you know or love my three-year old dog, she has told me she'll be accepting lots of attention in lieu of monetary gifts.

All for now.

Magilla Gorilla Suit

2008-11-24T05:35:00.000-08:00

If you can keep me up about 1 1/2 - 2 hours past when I normally go to bed, I acheive this state of punchiness where I get really weird. Even for me.

At that point, in my mind, I will probably think that I'm on fire, spewing comedy gold from every orifice (but especially my mouth), when in fact, I'm probably just tired enough that I think everything is a little funny, and my random access memory banks become hil-ar-ious.

This is how the Magilla Gorilla Suit came into being.

The Magilla Gorilla Suit is my theory that if you own a ridiculous costume, you can wear it to get out of doing things you don't want to do, particularly as it involves immersing yourself into social situations where you'd feel uncomfortable, as in, "Gee, I'd love to go out to the bar with you tonight, but I'm wearing a Magilla Gorilla Suit, so what'cha gonna do?" After a while, you don't even need to wear the suit anymore if you master the art. People will know when you say you're in a Magilla Gorilla Suit, you would rather stay home, eat kettle corn, and watch Scrubs re-runs.

Doesn't make any sense? I'm not a bit surprised. I came up with this at like, 1:30 a.m. in the morning. I cannot be responsible for what I say at that time of night.

All for now.

Fancy Pants?

2008-11-22T23:04:00.000-08:00

I don't think I have any fancy pants.

Curse you, radio.

The voice of Skeletor on He-Man was pure insanity. I'm more intimidated by my own bowel movements.

I mean, what if you were blind? Wouldn't you find it odd that He-Man regularly beat the crap out of a clearly senile old man?

Anyway, if you can only listen to something, and not see it, it changes so much.

That's part of the reason that the baseball legends of the 1920's & 30's loom so large, because they were brought to life by the old radio sportscasters. We never saw them except in still images (unless you lived in one of the eight cities that had baseball in that time, in which case nothing was going to impress you anyhow), and by then we already imagined them as Yetis and Yak-men and whatnot.

I'm really tired right now, and I'm pretty sure I'm not making sense.

Finally, behold!

Bring me He-Man! Or change me. Use the special talc I got from Luby's that smells like powdered sugar.

All for now.

Only Most of This Post is About Baseball

2008-11-19T11:48:00.000-08:00

First, a follow-up to MMMMMMMMMMM-eme!: perhaps unsurprisingly, none of the six random people I tagged for passing along the meme chose to honor their calling...

(wait, did he say "...?" He did!)

...intentionally.

Turns out Mimi on the Breach was tagged by someone else and did a slightly bastardized version of the meme. However, since my request clearly came first, I am claiming sole credit for Mimi's continuance of the meme. Anyone who cares to argue the point with me can go to the special hell that Shepherd Book says is reserved for child molestors and people who talk at the theatre.

Glad that's over. Now we can talk about

BASEBALL.

I'm not sure if it was always this way, but MLB's Most Valuable Player Awards have become so obfuscated by the bickering between sportswriters over the meaning of the term that for the last two years, one of their choices have been inexplicable. (See Jimmy Rollins, 2007)

Now, I won't even begin to get into what "valuable" means, and how comparing NL Winner Albert Pujols to AL Winner Dustin Pedroia would be pointless and stupid. Alls I'm sayin' is that everyone's going to get awful squeamish when Pujols eats Pedroia in a single gulp when the two get together to accept their awards, presumably at either The White House or Disneyworld.

Pujols (damn it, here I go) is an unkillable, unstoppable baseball monster, while Pedroia is a average-below average height, affable-looking sort of guy who is remarkable for his ability to play baseball in today's world of atomic supermen. Regardless, when David Ortiz occasionally (albeit mistakenly) uses you for a bat, it says something about a normal human's place in professional competitive sports these days.

Dustin Pedroia would be a remarkable candidate for the Most Valuable Human Playing Baseball award, since his main competition is David Eckstein and Grady Sizemore (and I still probably would've voted for Grady), but replace Human Playing Baseball with the more ambiguous "player" monniker, and now all of those man-giants who play baseball because the mythological evils of yore have either gone into hiding or been vanquished now qualify for the award. It's like giving Iolaus the MVP because he fought the Hydra alongside Heracles and he didn't die.

Dustin Pedroia should get a species of butterfly named after him.

All for now.

Today's Posting is About My Wife

2008-11-14T19:23:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, I did something serendipitous. I wrote two blogs, one about the NBC sitcom The Office, and the second about the (recently) defunct www.firejoemorgan.com. Well, curious gentleman I am, particularly when it comes to mourning, I decided to digest everything I could about FJM, it's history, etc, and that inevitably led me to

BARNEY STINSON: Wait for it...

Wikipedia: the online encyclopedia anyone can edit. And, according to Wikipedia: The Online Encyclopedia Anyone Can Edit, the primary poster at www.firejoemorgan.com is none other than Michael Schur, a writer for The Office and the guy who plays Dwight's cousin Mose, under the guise of Fremulon Insurance employee Ken Tremendous. Did I know this yesterday? I did not. It's just one of the many wonderful things you can learn on WIKIPEDIA: THE ONLINE ENCYCLOPEDIA ANYONE CAN EDIT.

Seriously, yo. They've got street cred, quality control, and all that business now. Not like the time they told me Billy Dee Williams had died (still haven't lived that one down completely).

In closing, I would like to address the title of this post. Psyche. Hope you read the whole thing, sweetie.

All for now.

Oh. Wow.

2008-11-13T19:22:00.000-08:00

I just read that http://www.firejoemorgan/ has decided to end its' run. I'm still reeling from the reaction, so I'm not going to be able to properly eulogize them now, but in case you didn't know them...

Fire Joe Morgan was a closed forum written by three guys, primarily (maybe totally) who went by the names Ken Tremendous, Dak, and Junior. Their cause was to point out the totally illogical and ridiculous in sports journalism, particularly as it applied to baseball, and particularly as it applied to a handful of the most terrible broadcasters / columnists covering the sport today: Joe Morgan, Tim McCarver, Bill Plaschke, Mike Celzic, Buzz Bissinger, and more. They were fantastic.

Here are some of my favorite posts of theirs:

http://www.firejoemorgan.com/2006/07/can-we-talk-about-this-one-thing.html

http://www.firejoemorgan.com/2008/05/heaven-is-reading-this-hatguy-column.html

http://www.firejoemorgan.com/2007/07/dismantle-hall-of-fame-please.html

http://www.firejoemorgan.com/2008/02/hi-everybody.html

More on this when I have the ability to process it.

All for now.

Regarding Tonight's Episode of "The Office"

2008-11-13T19:17:00.000-08:00

When are they going to introduce the new HR rep? I have the feeling, as is the way with sitcoms, that Toby will eventually come back, but it seems weird to have gone two weeks without even a mention of it.

All for now.

Ever See a Man Say Goodbye to a Pair of Shoes Before?

2008-11-10T17:37:00.000-08:00

Short blog tonight, as I am wiped from conferencing all day (which takes a staminia similar to forensics tournaments), but I wanted to take a moment to comment on the title of my last post in contrast with its' subject matter.

I don't necessarily believe that post titles and the subject of the post have to have anything to do with each other, but I usually try to create a loose connection, at least. I almost always try to make my title a quotation.

Of those quotations, the first eight seasons of The Simpsons will almost lead the pack when it comes to where I choose those quotes. Those episodes were first run during age 10 - 18 for me, a time when I rarely missed an episode. I've moved on since then, but the memories of those shows endure, and those seasons (particularly 3 - 7) hold up very well.

As such, here is a list of Simpsons quotation blog titles I will use in the future and their likely subjects:

1. "We Like Roy" - to be used the next time I (inevitably) gush about Roy Oswalt.

2. "I Can't Let That Happen, I Won't Let That Happen, and I Can't Let That Happen" - probably will be about me realizing it is my destiny to kill someone for the good of humanity, though not in a John Wilkes Booth way, and more in a man in white from The Stand sort of way.

3. "Moldy? Old? I'm Going to Get Something to Eat!" - could be any number of possibilities, but will likely concern my dogs' dietary habits.

4. "I'm Cold and There Are Wolves After Me" - For the next time my wife goes out of town on a business trip, leaving me alone with the dogs.

Wait, what's that, you say? You didn't know I had a wife? Well, let me shed some light on the subject. I have been married to a wonderful woman for almost two years now. She hates that I don't write about her on this blog, but what she doesn't understand is that I rarely write about things that are part of my everyday life; I'm much more event-based. More often than not, I write about things I need to get off my chest, and my wife is such a steady constant in my life (and I'm not a big believer in pda) that I honestly never think to write that much about her (though I have in the past on my old blog and will again, trust me, because something is bound to happen that I need to write about). Anyway, if you see someone writing "You Suck!" anonymously on this blog, chances are I'm sleeping with her.

5. "I Think He Should Have to Take a Different Oath!" - this title will be attached to a blog about something political that I find unfair.

6. "Itchy's a Jerk" - reserved for a post wherein I discuss my confusion at the appeal of a film start of some sort.

7. "It's a Big Country" - For when it comes to my father and smoking.

8. "Bake 'em Away, Toys" - for a blog that questions law enforcement and their overzealousness.

9. "Okay, Econosave, You Just Made the List!" - when a product makes me mad (and you know it will).

10. "Bees Are on the What Now?" - Many things confuse me. Any one of them could find themselves at the mercy of this title.

So, did I say short blog? I meant regular sized blog. Must eat and rest now. Let me know if you have any quotations you want me to use as a blog title.

Television! Teacher - Mother - Secret Lover...

2008-11-08T12:54:00.000-08:00

There's a theory that we cry at happy endings because deep down in our psyche, we know such things to be impossible, causing us to envy the fantasy. Allow me to digress:

The morning that Princess Diana died, I woke up early to the sound of the television in the living room of our house. I stumbled blearily in from my room, and found my mother, coffee in hand, sitting close to the television, bathed in the blue of its' light. She normally woke up early, so this was no surprise, but I could tell by her body language that she was paralyzed as though something really major was happening to her right then and there. The only thing she managed to say to me after I had stared at her for a few seconds was, "she's dead," as though I should know exactly who she was.

Ever since then, I've associated the look of someone washed in only the blue light of a television with bad news, or sadness. It always seemed to me to be a very lonely image, something Edward Hopper would've painted today if he were alive to see television become the monster of unifying influence, precursor to the iPhone and internet.

Tuesday night, I caught sight of my reflection in our bedroom mirror as I sat up in bed watching the television. I looked just like my mother had that morning when one of the symbols of her generation died. Only, for me, one of the symbols of my generation was just being born. And I no longer associated the image of a single person, enraptured by the images playing out before him, with sadness. This time, we were unified in hope. If I was on the edge of my seat, it was only because I couldn't believe that you could assemble 240,000 people in Grant Park on that night for that purpose and have enough security to keep it all from going horribly wrong in an instant.

In both cases, what we were seeing on television in no way could destroy or save our lives. We as human beings long for that kind of drama, and so we apply it to ourselves. But for the first time, there was a happy ending to a story, and my tears were not envious. My tears were regretful that such happy endings, while not impossible, are so rare, and that the high, the elation of what were experiencing would be gone so quickly as the reality of the road ahead set in. It should not be diminished, I thought, before realizing there was one thing for me to hold on to: that thanks to this night, my associative memory has replaced an indelible image of tragedy with one of hope.

All for now.

The Circus is Falling Down on it's Knees

2008-11-04T14:01:00.000-08:00

It takes a lot of energy to read the paper online recently. I love reading the paper, and I have often felt like the transfer of newspapers to the internet has been one of the things that has kept me from turning into a rhesus monkey.

However, the ability to comment on news stories that are published online is perhaps one of the worst things that has happened to the news industry, in my opinion. For reasons ranging from the amateur pop-psychologists who weigh in on Dear Abby articles to the amateur Elizabeth Hasslebecks who litter every non-editorial article written about the election with evidence of their fear and ignorance, article commenting has given readers an easy way to vomit their opinion out and move on.

Let me be perfectly clear - I love every opinion out there for the sake of it being an opinion, no matter how apparently idiotic. I may not agree with you, but I appreciate the aesthetic of evident thought. On the other hand, I feel like the act of self expression should require an effort. No matter how much we tend towards things that are easy and convenient, we are ultimately more satisfied by a challenge. The act of accomplishment, in constant little doses and occasional big doses, satisfies us at our core in ways we don't even realize. One way that we rarely think about is how we assign the term "worth" to such efforts. We frequently rate our efforts on whether or not they were "worth it."

Well, these instant newspaper comments cost maybe a penny or ha'pence, so yeah, to you, depositing a sentence of out-of-context vitrol is worth it because it requires zero effort. On the other hand, writing a blog or a letter requires more time, more thought, maybe some careful editing and revising, so it's definitely worth more to us. You pick and choose the opinions you elect to broadcast publicly because they are the ones that matter most to you, and you take the time to make it's presentation accessible because you want people to read it and consider it carefully.

I anticipate people will say that this is the same argument a lot of legitimate journalists make against bloggers. One crucial difference, though: a blog is an outlet that does not have the filter of a choosy editor. The chasm between instant comments and blogs are more pronounced, however. Instant comments are like vandalism - carelessly tossed off on a surface that doesn't really belong to them in the first place. This blogspace, this address, I own, and you have no obligation to visit if you don't like what you're reading.

Finally, I just want to say that I know there's no going back and I'm really fine with that, what with my fervent support of the first amendment and all. It's just that I'm all nostalgic for the time when I could read an article in a newspaper and not instantly see what a bunch of jackasses thought about it.

All for now.

P.S. Go vote, or I'll send my colonial sheriff after you.

Likes to Be Slapped

2008-10-31T22:36:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXia60dgHnE

I love the long set up.

For the Record

2008-10-31T11:16:00.001-07:00

I cannot end October of all months with thirteen posts.

Happy Halloween! If you want real horror, and not the fake kind, go over to Rice and sit outside until around 10:00 p.m., then prepare for Baker 13.

All for now.

Already Missing It

2008-10-30T10:30:00.000-07:00

October
by Hester Jewell Dawson

the high fly ball,
arches out above left field,
hangs there in the sky
outblazing the sun
while fifty thousand heads swings and cry
"Over the wall! Over the wall!"
then hold, fixed and dumb
as the ball drops
down and down, a dead bird
into a waiting glove

and there you have it: the song,
the flight, the perilous whisper of truth
or of love or possibly of faith

then the descent
and the end of the game

October by Hester Jewell Dawson ©

MMMMMMMMMMM-eme!

2008-10-26T21:48:00.000-07:00

Evn, who thinks strife is the bee's knees, has tagged me with a meme.

I think meme is a fun word and a fascinating term, sociologically speaking.

However, I am usually reluctant to participate in them, on the grounds of Too Cool for School vs. Yearbook Club. Not this time, though. Overriding this impulse is the fact that Evn gets principal credit for my re-entry into the legitimate blogosphere, and, damn it all, he is right. I do love lists.

(Spoiler Alert: There will be four lists in this blog)

Without further ado, the rules of this meme:

1. Link to the person who tagged you. (Check. I am on top of things!)

2. Post the rules on your blog. (Boom! Meta-check!)

3. Write six random things about yourself.

4. Tag six people at the end of your post and link to them.

5. Let each person know they’ve been tagged and leave a comment on their blog.

6. Let the tagger know when your entry is up.

But before we do this, I would like to offer a curtain-raiser. So, without further ado, here is my commentary on Evn's Six Random Things:

(Oh, snap! I linked to it twice!)

1. Funny story about this one. Evn was once (mostly against his will) conscripted into service as the official cockroach killer for the MLA Offices at our college by the head of the program, a dear, departed professor and a surprisingly powerful Jewish woman at our very Catholic university. It was a job he hated. But the rest of the job was super-cool, so he had to put up with it. How super cool could it be, you ask? That office had the world's most awesome porch, and if that doesn't tell you everything, I don't know how to talk to you.

2. Marilyn Manson was also edgy in the mid-90's, if that gives you any perspective.

3. I'm pretty sure this entry is a thinly-veiled metaphor for how much time he spent drinking.

4. Who's bed he ends up in is somehow irrelevant to this particular compulsion.

5. I have nothing to offer here, but I've put myself into the position of having to comment on every one of these, so instead, I'm going to tell you about the whale that exploded (this is a partial repost from an old blog):

Okay. So this Sperm Whale, which is funny enough to begin with, dies at sea and washes ashore shortly after, fairly intact. Taiwanese scientists ( I thought all they did was make action figures) see this as a golden oppurtunity to cut open a dead Sperm Whale, load his ass up on a flatbed truck and drive him through the widest street that gets to their office - you know, the middle of downtown... um, Taiwan. Meanwhile, unbeknowest to anyone but God and whoever could've suspected that John Ritter's number was up, the Sperm Whale is being consumed from the inside by the mites that contribute to the deterioration of all things once living, but particularly in the ocean and being this Whale. Mites have to poop, too, and the way they happen to go about it is by releasing methane and other gases ( in actuality it's the reason you flatulate - that's microscopic bug poo buildup), and these mites have been doing it with aplomb**. But the Whale must obviously be going through rigor mortis or something, because his muscles can't relax enough to let this gas out. So what happens next? (Melissa Singletary from Elvington, Wisconsin writes, "Dear Beakman...") You guessed it. That Whale fucking blows up. All over the Taiwanese marketplace. Spewing blood, slime, feces, and guts all over the place - all over the daily shoppers. ka-BOOM! Guh-ag! Citezens, unexpectedly covered in filth, being vomitting and passing out. Total mayhem. Absolute chaos. And to top it all off, the large intestine wraps around this vespa, arguably the worst idea in motorcycle technology since Fonzie learned to jump over a shark.

Coolest. Thing. Ever. And then, as an afterthought, the article mentions that the dead whale had been reknowned (prior to it's pickup by the Taiwanese scientists) for it's 5' penis. The way I see it, the penis crashed through the window, knocking a hat and jacket off of a manequin, only to have the clothes land on the penis which now stands in the manequin's place. It's so funny I was laughing and retching all at once. Now why can't CSI be more like that? Oh, wait. It is.

** - aplomb refers to some chick from Hawaii that lounges outside and feeds the lazy coconuts.

6. Sometimes I ge the feeling that certain things don't exist (like Norweigian as a language), and Erasure is becoming one of those things.

Tired yet? We're only halfway through our lists! On to six random things concerning me:

1. I love old episodes of Match Game that they show on Game Show Network. Unreasonably, man. Part of it is Gene Rayburn's microphone, but mostly it's two things: 1 - the "G" list celebrities. Charles Nelson Reilley, Brett Sommers, Nipsy Russell, McLean Stevenson, Richard Dawson, and Kitty Carlisle Hart couldn't carry a fresh bowl of oxygen, let alone an audiences' attention for half an hour. How was this popular? 2 - the premise of this game show is categorically insane. Host Rayburn reads a fill-in-the-blank sentence (mad lib style), and the contestant makes a guess at what the "stars" answers were. Only thing is, the stars could've written anything. And this is Charles Nelson Reilly we're talking about. If Rayburn read, "Old Tom said, 'I think my doctor is a quack. Every time I go in for a check-up, he demands that I pay him in blank," Charles Nelson Reilly wouldn't write something like "crackers" (the duck analogy, plus a hoary old way of saying someone's nutballs), or "pennies" or anything remotely resembling an answer, he'd write, "Soaps from Rosalind Russell's guest washroom" or some other shit. I am not kidding when I tell you that most of these episodes were decided by scores that looked like hockey games or baseball games from the deadball era.

2. I met more important people working at a dry cleaners than I have in five years in the theatre / museum business. So there.

3. I have no concept of proportions when it comes to cooking. I can only make industrial sized dishes for families of twelve. Hope you like leftovers! Unfortunately, this leads to scads of over-eating, as my parents somehow lived through the great depression despite being born a good twelve & twenty-two years after it.

4. I get a bug up my butt about certain jokes, and if I don't get a laugh out of them, I will hang on to them and drag them into the ground until they work. Some lines I have found absolutely hilarious which somehow have yet to find an audience:

"That's the best idea I've heard today, and I've heard four ideas today."

"Every little girl wanted a pony when she grew up, but not for breakfast."

"I am not an animal! I am a hunan being!" - best when shouted by Chinese delivery boy

5. Evn's dream post inspired me to tell you about the weirdest dream I ever had, when I was fifteen. (1995)

It's Thanksgiving day, and the Rockets are playing the Knicks. For some reason, I'm in the Knicks' locker room with my friend Andy (NOT a basketball fan, by the way) listening to the game on the radio, where we hear Gene Peterson tell the audience listening in that after the game, the Knicks have arranged to have a Thanksgiving feast back in their locker room. Sure enough, there's an impressive spread there - everything you think is supposed to be a Thanksgiving food, it's there.

Suddenly, the phone rings. Andy answers, and it's our 9th grad algebra teacher, Mr. Pickering. Mr. Pickering asks, "What kind of food have they got back there?" So Andy answers, turkey, stuffing, etc., only to be interrupted by Pickering, "Do they have any pie?" We look around, and sure enough, there's a peach pie. Says Pickering, "I'll give you ten bucks if you steal that pie for me." So Andy does.

The game ends in a one point Rockets' victory, and the Knicks come back to enjoy their dinner. They are rather put out to discover that the pie is missing, and it comes to pass that due to some obscure rule about basketball being invented with peach baskets for the original hoops, theft of peaches is grounds for a double technical. Why it didn't matter that the game was over or that Andy and I had no ties to the Rockets' organization was apparently irrelevant, and Allan Houston sank the two free throws to win the game for New York. Needless to say, the city was pissed.

6. I once played the character of Mufaro in a production of Mufaro's Beautiful Daughters. Let's just say there was no other choice that day, and Mufaro was PROBABLY cuckolded.

So there are my six things. Now, I just have to tag six people, and my list-making is complete!

However, instead of tagging people I know, I'm going to select six blogs at random from the blogosphere and tag them, just to see who I get to do it.

And the winners are...

Justin Driscoll

Skatterbrain

Mimi on the Beach

When Tara Met Blog

Matt B. Thompson

Lowercase "l"

That's four lists! And this blog took me just long enough for Pete to throw up right next to me, so I'll put conclusions aside and go pick this up.

All for now.

I am Jor-El, Master of Scheduling!

2008-10-24T13:15:00.000-07:00

I'm still in the honeymoon phase with this blog, and am therefore somewhat of a blogging monster, as I have been called before by a friend and commenter on my last blog (over at the space, which, in retrospect, was not so much mine).

This will not last, so I intend to get as much good stuff in before the inevitable slow of my output.

Um... well,... all for now, I guess.

My Name is Captain Brusin'

2008-10-23T10:53:00.000-07:00

If you travel in and around the Memorial / Heights area of town, you may have passed the Citgo on Heights Blvd. which is next to the Art Car Museum and just a stone's throw away from the Hickory Hollow (wow, does that ever sound quaint and small-towny).

This Citgo, for reasons unknown to me, charges prices for its' gasoline which have little, if anything to do with the current market. In Houston, TX, the current going rate for gas is about $2.65 - $2.75 per gallon. So imagine my surprise to see this Citgo charging $2.99 9/10 for a gallon of unleaded fuel this morning on my way to work.

This situation begs the question: Citgo on Heights Blvd., who do you think you are?

I'm not even mad, just curious. I can avoid buying gas at this Citgo rather easily, as there are several gas stations within less than a mile of this gas station / convienence store. I've thought about this as much as I can, and I've come to the conclusion that the answer is one of the following.

1. Every day, you check the national gas price average, and set your prices. This is too bad for you, because no one will buy your gas here. Even if the national average is $2.99, we're operating a quarter below that in the Bayou City (it's under $2 in Harlingen, TX), and since the average gas tank holds about 12 gallons, you're looking at a difference of about $3.00 at your gas station alone, and I need that $3.00 to save up to buy milk. And not the over-priced, convienence store Oak Farms milk you sell at Citgo, either. Regular grocery store milk.

2. You really have no intention of selling gas. I actually think this is the most likely answer, although why you wake up every morning, and exclaim, "Dag, yo! I can't face a line of customers coming into my store for fuel today, wanting to pay me money for it and shit!" is beyond me. It kind of reminds me of Lou's Grocery Store in Bacliff.

What's that, you say, Citgo on Heights Blvd.? You've never heard of Lou's Grocery in Bacliff? Well, let me explain.

Between Kemah and Dickinson, TX on the South-Southeast side of Houston, about halfway down to Galveston, there's a little town called Bacliff. It's a peculiarity of a town, a place where land titles mean almost nothing because banks gave away multiple copies of them for free back in the early 1900's, so no national chains exist there, except for a Jack-in-the-Box along Hwy 146, which connects Kemah to Galveston. It's a mix of port resort and shanty town, truly a wonder to behold. If you've ever wondered where sex offenders have to live, it's in places like Bacliff, due to a school district never wanting to build a school there what with their overabundance of sanity.

Bacliff has one grocery store. ONE! And it's Lou's (most people drive to the Wal-Mart in Dickinson or League City). Only, the thing is, Lou's is not a grocery store. Lou's has beer and liquor, cigarrettes, lotto, and canned food like you might find at you, Citgo on Heights Blvd., but I'm pretty sure their produce section is made up entirely of props. Wilted props. Fresh foods at Lou's are like the regular movies in a video store that you know makes its' money on porn, so the regular movies are all dusty D releases from 1993, and nobody in their right mind would ever rent them. Come to think of it, Lou's smells kind of like a video store that is 12% "real" movies and 88% Cal Vista releases.

'Cause here's the thing: Lou's isn't going to sell celery or watercress. It knows better than that. So it stocks up on what it does sell, and calls itself a grocery store much like you call yourself a gas station instead of The Vice Stop. Admit it, Citgo. You make your money on lotto tickets, tobacco, and porn. The end.

3. You honestly think you can sell this gas and make a profit. Citgo. Citgo! You are not the Shell station on San Felipe and Weslayan, the only gas station that the River Oaksies go to. You are 100 yards from I-10, and nobody's buying it. I can't imagine that the art cars even go to you. In fact, this is so dumb, I secretly suspect that you, Citgo on Heights Blvd., are really Gary Sheffield.

All for now.

Goatee Powder? But I Sold My Goatee to Buy You Face Whitener!

2008-10-22T20:55:00.000-07:00

There are plenty of reasons for you, my fellow Houstonians, to watch this year's World Series, namely Eric Bruntlett, Ben Zobrist, Scott Kazmir, Carl Crawford, Gerry Hunsicker, and Dan Wheeeler & Brad Lidge's reunion, which, as I have noted above, needs to be punctuated with an O. Henry twist.

That said, I'm about Philly-ed out. Both Tim McCarver and Joe Morgan, the heads and tails of the idiocy coin, refuse to stop extolling the virtues of Ryan Howard as MVP in 2008. Let's put aside for a moment that Howard is only the second most awesome Ryan Howard in his own state. It cannot be ignored that he was absolutely wretched for a good 1/4 of this season. MVP? Not even of his own team.

No, the 2008 MVP in the NL belongs to (and I can't believe I'm saying this again) Albert Pujols, the one and only unkillable baseball monster, who ranks near the top in every significant statistical category (Howard leads in home runs and RBI's, but is awful just about everywhere else). If you removed Pujols from the Cardinals lineup, they would have gone 2 - 160 this year. Remove Howard? You might get better defense out of the gaping hole at 1st base.

Howard won the MVP, more deservedly, in 2006, and his teammate Jimmy Rollins won, somewhat inexplicably, last year. Rollins winning the MVP award is like giving Godzilla 2nd place in a Godzilla look-alike contest and awarding 1st prize to Anne Murray; that is to say, you're pretty close, but for the love of Mike, Godzilla was in the running.

--------

Were you in the rain last tonight? If so, this was one of the top ten scariest nights of my life. I was never more sure that I was going to lose my car to high water. I started sweet talking it like it was my dog. My thanks to the strangers on the balcony, Aaron, and John Malkovich for spending the evening out on the street with me while we waited for the street flooding to go down.

All for now.

My Favorite Swear Word

2008-10-20T14:24:00.001-07:00

Thanks to Evn for the inspiration:

Favorite curse words strung together: "Shit! Balls shit!" - This happened when I dropped a full cash box on a windy day last May.

Favorite story of a curse word: I do some work for an elderly couple on occasion, moreso because I'm fond of them than anything else, and frequently this work involves helping them get set up for parties, Christmas, etc.

One day, upon discovering her husband had brought home black tape to help tape up white lights against her white painted door frame, the wife exclaimed to him, in front of me, "Jesus' dick!"

And it truly was the best Christmas ever.

All for now.

Aw, crap.

2008-10-19T06:12:00.001-07:00

I've always thought my last name guaranteed me that there would never be something on youtube that someone else would do and I'd stand the chance of never living down.

For the record, I am Joseph Milillo. All i's, l's, and o's.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SRkZnM1rNOk

All for now.

This is Going to Screw Up J.D. Drew's Legacy

2008-10-16T21:27:00.000-07:00

...of being largely undependable in games of baseball.

Maddon's manaagement of the bullpen towards the end of this game was somewhat incomprehensible, if you ask me. Maybe they really wanted to win this series at home, I don't know. For all I know, TBS is doing it all with digital technology.

All for now.

Operation Beatdown

2008-10-16T18:47:00.000-07:00

FOX Sports just put up a graphic of the most HR's by teammates in a postseason. Barry Bonds & Rich Aurilla of the Giants have 13, and then there are 4 pairs tied with 12 apiece. Of those, only 1 pair played for a team that did not make the World Series that year: Carlos Beltran and Lance Berkman of the Astros in 2004. Of course, the broadcast team failed to note that.

I'm currently reading a biography of Roberto Clemente that my father-in-law gave me. I'm only a little ways into it, but I'm more in awe of this guy than I was before, and it gets me to thinking about Derek Bell and his "Operation Shutdown" in 2002. Rather than tell the story, let me just refer you here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Shutdown

Also, to this picture:

Now, imagine if Roberto Clemente were alive today, or for the purposes of this argument, in 2002. If you imagined it properly, Clemente beat Derek Bell's ass into the ground, intimidated him into giving his paycheck to needy orphans, then un-retired and played right field his own damn self at age 68.

Yes, life is unfair sometimes.

All for now.

At Least it Was Pouring Rain

2008-10-16T06:31:00.000-07:00

If you are among the many who were irritated last night that the HOV lane was moving at a snail's pace, um, well, that was me.

I got a flat tire around Little York, and as you well know, there's not much you can do but pull over as far as you can and change it. At least you were able to sneak by a little.

I am also grateful that I had good friends in the car with me who lent invaluable assistance. Of course, had I not, I would have also been breaking the law by using the HOV solo, making it a kind of fun Catch-22. Anyhow, thank you, C & B.

I hate that I have a donut instead of a full spare, but that's going to change when I make my little trip to Discount Tire today here in a few minutes. Based on my luck with the auto repair gods, here's hoping that this doesn't turn into a maddening ordeal.

All for now.

Hbrf.

2008-10-14T20:57:00.000-07:00

Sorry about the formatting in that last blog. I'm still learning how to use this thing, and this was the best I could get it at the moment.

All for now.

Bob Ghengis Khan

2008-10-14T19:14:00.001-07:00

Boy, Tampa looks scary dominant. They're eating the Red Sox alive in this series after looking in over their heads in Game 1.

A List: The 10 Best Films (or Film Series) About Time Travel

10. Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home

Needs to be included for the sake of being so bad it's barely watchable. On the other hand, it should be noted that this is the only Star Trek film that is practically a comedy, which almost makes it good in light of the fact that the original Star Trek cast seems much more comfortable parodying their characters than they do playing them straight.

9. The Flight of the Navigator

Good stuff all around here. Of course, viewed through the filter of our sense of irony, Paul Ruebens' voicing the space ship is ridiculous, but Pee Wee was still a few months away when this movie was released. Also, the use of Bulgarian as an alien language is sure to offend someone, so it's got that going for it. Bottom line, you could show this to a kid today and most of them would still love this.

8. The Indian in the Cupboard

Better than advertised. One of the most inventive uses of time travel, and a faithful recreation of the book. Features an early appearance in the career of Steve Coogan, and Frank Oz, who rarely does something crappy (not to be confused with unpopular) directs.

7. Time Bandits

I'm sure a lot of people would like me to rank this higher, but aside from its wicked sense of humor and fantastic casting, this is a pretty sloppy movie, and it's time travel logic is virtually non-existent, and remains inconsistent with it's view of dwarves. Terry Gilliam will direct a time travel film that eventually ranks much higher on the list.

6. Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure and Bill and Ted's Bogus Journey.

The first one is more about time travel than the second one, but the second one's time travel is crucial to the plot, even if it's gimmick is a recycle from the original that comes across paler than the actor who played Death. Probably the funniest of the time travel movies, I can only hope to be so on top of my game when I introduce historical figures to my best friend's hot stepmom.

5. Frequency

Jim Caveziel and Dennis Quaid really sell this movie, along with director Gregory Hoblit's attention to creating a richly detailed 1969 in Queens, the year the Mets won their first World Series. The plausible details along with the evocation of popular culture makes this film a standout. Also, good song for the closing credits.

4. Army of Darkness

When your film franchise is already pretty awesome, the only way you can make it more awesome is transport your hero into the middle ages. Raimi and Campbell get the most out of the "fish out of water" situation and in the process redefine hero to the nerdcore culture.

3. Back to the Future I, II, and III

What really gets me about Back to the Future is how involved Robert Zemickis and Bob Gale are in answering all of the questions that fans pose in the face of the films' apparent plotholes, only to prove in the process that there are, in fact, none. Count me among those who think that when something becomes popular, it's because somebody did something right. Back to the Future is a combination of many of the right elements coming together all at once.

2. Twelve Monkeys

It's hard to watch sometimes, but I can't get over how SMART this movie is, and how good Terry Gilliam is at creating an atmosphere that makes film's closing paradox feel like the perfect ending. Also, Brad Pitt demonstrates for the first time that he can act. It's a shame he's been compelled to be more showy in an effort to recapture some of that glory. Bonus points to him for doing The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, which may eventually find it's way onto this list.

1. Groundhog Day

This one is so good it would probably make my list of ten best movies, period. Murray and Ramis get explore the truth of human nature while making us laugh. Even Andie McDowell can't spoil this one for me, and she ruined Galipoli without even being in it. Fantastic, fantastic movie, and maybe the most unique use of time travel.

In the time it's taken me to write this, Boston has saved a little face. But not much. Current prediction: Rays in 6, Phillies in 5; then Rays in 6 for the WS.

All for now.

Not 100% New Material

2008-10-13T20:17:00.000-07:00

Hello. My name is Red Delicious, and I make lists. The following is a list of things I will be writing about as we get to know each other.

1. Baseball. I write a lot about baseball. Specifically, the Houston Astros, but most Major League teams and their Minor League affiliates will be subject to my scrutiny. You may love baseball, or you may hate it. Bear with me - I'm by no means exclusive, and I suck at adhering to formats, so you'll get a little bit of everything from me. That said, I will at diverse times discuss the overall awesomeness of Roy Oswalt, hereafter sometimes referred to as Rock.

2. Dogs. I've got two. They are 3 years old and nine months old, respectively, so I anticipate they'll be a part of my life for a long time. This does not mean I will be maintaining a "doggy blog," or anything like that. Let it just be known that These Apples fully supports the Tao of Canines, and will post observations of their behavior.

These are my dogs, and they are more awesome than most things to me.

3. Playmaking. I majored in it. I enjoy it. I'm not going to hawk it in a desperate grab for attention, but I will probably promote it now and then. Most of the time, I prefer the autocracy of directing.

4. Insanity. This comes up a lot. When inspiration strikes, you will hear from me about exploding whales, Gary Sheffield, the news media, and anything else that strikes my fancy.

5. Nerdery. Be warned: you will read about Batman, Gnomish Bards, The Barenaked Ladies, Car Talk, Earth-That-Was, time travel, cartoons, protocol droids, and John C. McGinley on this space.

6. Texas. Texas is the bees' knees. Deal with it.

7. Comedy. I'm a big fan. If I think something is hilarious, I'm going to want to share it with you. Many times, this has to do with someone like Seanbaby, or the guys at Fire Joe Morgan, or McSweeny's. I will not repost what I don't write myself, but I may link. And I will talk about it as though you have read / seen / heard it. Whenever I bring something up you recognize and don't want spoiled (i.e. "Dwight Schrute's recent erratic behavior...") consider it a spoiler alert.

8. Poetry. Every now and again I write poems. I like to put them on my blog when I do. If you like it, great, but you don't have to tell me and you're certainly welcome to ignore them if you don't care. I won't think any less of you if you do.

9. Baseball. This bears repeating. I write a LOT about baseball.

10. Evil. I've said this before, but newcomers to my writing may not realize that it is the personal mission of These Apples to fight evil and injustice wherever they may lurk, then brag to our friends about it, invariably lying about the degree of success (which is cool because nobody's going to go to Hitler's grave to see if he really rose as a vampire). If you or anyone you know has a problem with evil, it is best to contact These Apples in lieu of local law enforcement. In fact, many policemen have been known to escort and protect Dick Cheney, which makes their evil recognition / combatting powers questionable, at best.

So that's it. I'll probably start by re-posting the stuff I'm proud of from the old blog before I phase it out. In the meantime, feel free to stop by and say hi.

All for now.