Over the weekend, the Mrs. graduated from medical school. Officially becoming a "doctor-lady". I'm proud of her. Very proud. There's something to be said about reaching a goal. It's more than that sense of accomplishment. I get that when I have a good hair day. It's something much higher, much grander than us.
For many things in life we succeed at, or look forward to succeeding at, the moment the goal is reached rarely lives up to what we'd hoped. But there are times the moment holds. When the weight and work of four years of medical school and the dream of becoming a doctor you've held for years is retained in that single instant. And that's what I felt for her this weekend. Seeing her recieve her degree was worth everything. Worth all the sacrifice, all the uncertainity, all the difficulty. The moment held. And I wanted her, and you, to know that.
Monday, May 29, 2006
Really. Keep Talking.
In the past three weekends, I have been to three graduations. One for a college degree; one for a masters degree; and one for a doctor's degree. And in doing this I have had the opportunity to listen to numerous speakers at this ceremonies. As a result, I've compiled some helpful tips for you, the reader, if you should ever be a graduation speaker.
Here's What You Don't Do:
1. Speak longer than 15 minutes. Not only is your audience not there to listen to you, but even if they were, odds are their attention span wouldn't even be this long. Better shorten this to 10 minutes. If you can't say it concisely, you probably shouldn't say it.
2. Use metaphors. Now I'm not discounting metaphors. But, as C.S. Lewis (a master of the metaphor) and I'm sure many others have said, there is a point where even the best metaphor breaks down. Read: there's no such thing as a perfect metaphor. If you must, mention it once...maybe twice. And here's what you don't metaphorize(?): a house, tool belt, tree, car -- really anything that has parts. It doesn't make you appear smart when you use a metaphor about something that has parts. Really. It's not that difficult.
3. Speak in a different language through a translator. This should be self-explanatory. But if you do use this method, make sure the translator speaks your language.
4. Talk about your successful career. Graduates are under enough pressure to succeed. They've just spent thousands on school. They're in debt. And if you talk about yourself and your success, your just bragging, not encouraging.
As for what you should do, I don't have any ideas. I've sat through some pretty rough speeches over the past three weeks. I'd suggest quoting a poet, like T.S. Eliot (especially a selection from "The Four Quartets"). Perhaps, to offer perspective to the graduate, quote G.K. Chesterton in this manner: Graduate, do not think of yourself bigger than you ought. No matter how large, how successful you may become "you will always be small when compared to the nearest tree."
Again, just some helpful hints. And if you're getting an honorary degree. It usually comes after a speaker who's droned on for too long already, and no one at the school knows who you are, therefore you have no right to go on for more than a minute. This is especially true if you're not there to accept the degree, but send remarks. Not only does that appear that you don't consider the honor important enough to attend, but in doing so, you forfeit any right to have said remarks go on longer than 30 seconds.
Here's What You Don't Do:
1. Speak longer than 15 minutes. Not only is your audience not there to listen to you, but even if they were, odds are their attention span wouldn't even be this long. Better shorten this to 10 minutes. If you can't say it concisely, you probably shouldn't say it.
2. Use metaphors. Now I'm not discounting metaphors. But, as C.S. Lewis (a master of the metaphor) and I'm sure many others have said, there is a point where even the best metaphor breaks down. Read: there's no such thing as a perfect metaphor. If you must, mention it once...maybe twice. And here's what you don't metaphorize(?): a house, tool belt, tree, car -- really anything that has parts. It doesn't make you appear smart when you use a metaphor about something that has parts. Really. It's not that difficult.
3. Speak in a different language through a translator. This should be self-explanatory. But if you do use this method, make sure the translator speaks your language.
4. Talk about your successful career. Graduates are under enough pressure to succeed. They've just spent thousands on school. They're in debt. And if you talk about yourself and your success, your just bragging, not encouraging.
As for what you should do, I don't have any ideas. I've sat through some pretty rough speeches over the past three weeks. I'd suggest quoting a poet, like T.S. Eliot (especially a selection from "The Four Quartets"). Perhaps, to offer perspective to the graduate, quote G.K. Chesterton in this manner: Graduate, do not think of yourself bigger than you ought. No matter how large, how successful you may become "you will always be small when compared to the nearest tree."
Again, just some helpful hints. And if you're getting an honorary degree. It usually comes after a speaker who's droned on for too long already, and no one at the school knows who you are, therefore you have no right to go on for more than a minute. This is especially true if you're not there to accept the degree, but send remarks. Not only does that appear that you don't consider the honor important enough to attend, but in doing so, you forfeit any right to have said remarks go on longer than 30 seconds.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Veni, Vedi, Da Vinci
Well the much-anticipated movie arrives in theaters today. Ebert's review was favorable. Entertainment Weekly...not so much. Can't say I put much stock in the reviews of the latter, however. But if you've read the book, you can determine for yourself how good the movie will be. After all, it was written for the big screen. What? You mean it wasn't a literary masterpiece? No. MacGyver could write a better book with a shoelace, matches and stick of gum. (The gum, mind you, to hold those intricate storylines together.) This is not to say I didn't enjoy the book. I read it rather quickly (about 2 days). And I enjoyed it. But I liked it for what is was. Like I enjoyed "Green Eggs and Ham". And I know I'll like the movie. But, please. Stop referring to this novel as the benchmark for fiction writing.
As for the controversy surrounding both the movie and the book (whether or not you buy into the fiction) Ebert said it best:
"This has the advantage of distracting them from the theory that the Pentagon was not hit by an airplane."
The thing of it is: if you want a good, literary masterpiece that's veiled as a detective/suspense novel, check out Matthew Pearl's, "The Dante Club". And, yes, I'm plugging him because his new book, "The Poe Shadow", hits shelves Tuesday.
As for the controversy surrounding both the movie and the book (whether or not you buy into the fiction) Ebert said it best:
"This has the advantage of distracting them from the theory that the Pentagon was not hit by an airplane."
The thing of it is: if you want a good, literary masterpiece that's veiled as a detective/suspense novel, check out Matthew Pearl's, "The Dante Club". And, yes, I'm plugging him because his new book, "The Poe Shadow", hits shelves Tuesday.
Thursday, May 18, 2006
No DH in Sudoku!
So apparently, pitchers get to hit in this version. What about the DH? Does it cease to be the pure form of the game if the DH is added? I'd argue adding the DH is good for the game of Sudoku. It would create more scoring and increase the fan attraction to the game.
The thing of it is: I wonder if there's a Purpose Driven Life version of Sudoku. Maybe a WWJD version. If not, knowing the sub-culture, there will be.
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
Saving Gas Money
So here in the newsroom, we're constantly doing stories about rising gas prices. And we're constantly being asked to find a new angle to the story. Here's one:
"With rising gas prices, NASCAR could be looking into alternative fuel costs. The Indy Racing League is already leading the way by beginning a two-year transition to ethanol."
But for a more in-depth report, I'd love the chance to examine why Major League Baseball got rid of these. Was it because of the fuel scares of the late 70s? Too much foreign competition? Or is it just more fun to see a pitcher sprint in from the bullpen, pulling up about around second base with a hamstring injury?
The thing of it is: I'd probably have to interview the Philly Fanatic. But I wouldn't interview Wally the Green Monster. He doesn't exist.
"With rising gas prices, NASCAR could be looking into alternative fuel costs. The Indy Racing League is already leading the way by beginning a two-year transition to ethanol."
But for a more in-depth report, I'd love the chance to examine why Major League Baseball got rid of these. Was it because of the fuel scares of the late 70s? Too much foreign competition? Or is it just more fun to see a pitcher sprint in from the bullpen, pulling up about around second base with a hamstring injury?
The thing of it is: I'd probably have to interview the Philly Fanatic. But I wouldn't interview Wally the Green Monster. He doesn't exist.
Forgot to Mention
Believe it or not, in the previous, epic, post I forgot to mention something. While aboard the flights, it struck me as humorous when the flight attendants tell me it's now time to shut off all approved electronic devices because we're about to land. The funny part: I'm asked to shut off all computers, CD players and Cassette players. Cassette Players? Really? People still have those?
The thing of it is: I highly doubt using the "approved electronic devices" would hinder my pilot's ability to land. And even if it did, I'd be able to drown out the screams with some good music.
The thing of it is: I highly doubt using the "approved electronic devices" would hinder my pilot's ability to land. And even if it did, I'd be able to drown out the screams with some good music.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Friday. May 12th. 2006
Here's the running diary of our trip to Boston:
4:15: Mrs. G wakes up. Of course the alarm's gone off three times already.
4:30: I wake up. I'm not as tired as Mrs. G.
5:20: We head out the door.
5:50: Park in the Blue Lot at the Columbus Airport. The Red Lot was closed. That means I have to pay an extra dollar a day to be a whole 300 yards closer to the terminal. Make mental note: Parked directly under the sign that reads: 2D.
6:00: Check-in. All seems well.
6:05: Put clothes back on after passing through airport security. Reach Departure Gate.
6:15: Notice old man wearing the same sweater I planned to wear at my sister's graduation the next day.
6:17: Notice there can't be more than 15 people at the gate, and yet 3 of them are standing by the entrance to the jetway. There goes my chance to get on the plane and pick my seat first. Oh. Wait. It's assigned seating.
6:30: Board the plane, comfortably settling into a window seat.
6:45: As plane begins to taxi for takeoff, pilot slams on the brakes and proceeds to make a U-Turn on the runway. A U-Turn! In a 727! On the freaking runway! This is going to be a great flight.
6:47: First pre-8 a.m. thought: Can a plane hydro-plane?
6:55: Take was smooth. Proceed to put turn on my iPod. Of course I'm sitting directly over the engines and I can't hear a thing, even with the volume turned up, the sound pumping directly into my ears. And it's the iPod that's causing hearing loss?
8:20: Land in the armpit of America (read: New Jersey).
8:35: Buy a Cafe Mocha and a Hot Chocolate and a coffee cake for breakfast at a Starbucks wanna-be. Cost: $10.55. Airport food.
8:40: Arrive at our gate, notice the board reads: Houston, realize something maybe wrong.
8:42: Run back up the moving escalator and notice our flight is "On Time" but doesn't have a gate. That seems a little optimistic, a little arrogant. But apparently pilot's these days can manage to be "On Time" despite actually having a place they are to be at.
8:45: Continental agent tells us our flight is cancelled. Really. And I thought it was "On Time".
9:00: Another agent tells us the flight was cancelled the night before and we were rescheduled to fly out at 9 p.m.. Something that could've be brought to my attention YESTERDAY!
9:05: Change destination to Boston sted Manchester. Flight Attendant: "Hopefully, your bags will get on the same flight and be there when you get there."
9:10: Mrs. and me spat. I didn't quite catch the "Hopefully" part of the explanation.
9:20: Decide to head over to Hertz to change car rental location.
9:40: Hertz tells me they can't make the change and I have to call Hotwire.
9:43: Second spat. Confidence in Continental to "hopefully" get us our bags in waning fast.
10:15: Get through to Hotwire. Cancel car reservation. Am told I can't make a new one because they can't do one-way rentals. Apparently it's too expensive. Great.
10:35: Speak with several companies over the phone. Secure car rental with Thrifty for affordable price.
10:45: Put clothes back on after passing back through security. (It's important to note that even if we had not made the trek to Hertz outside the airport, we would've still had to travel to a different terminal and because Newark is so ghetto, you have to go through the security process again.)
10:55: Reach gate and begin to unwind a little. Still worried about baggage.
11:25: After boarding the plane, pilot tells us the flight will be delayed because of bad weather in Boston. New departure time: 12:24. Pilot: "It's pretty bad in Boston right now folks. And it's only supposed to get worse as the day goes on." Right. So let's wait to take-off. Makes perfect sense.
12:22: Leave Newark. I hate Newark.
1:00: Land in Boston.
1:20: Bags did not make it. And we had such a guarantee, too.
1:30 Bag Claim lady tells us the bags will be sent to Manchester at 9 p.m. Huh? But we're in Boston.
1:31: Am told there's nothing they can do, but they'll try to get them to Boston and deliver them to our hotel.
1:40: Get on Thrifty shuttle to go get our car.
2:05: Get rental car. Dodge Stratus. Original cost in Manchester: $50. New cost: $175 (after est. gas and insurance).
2:07: Make first "I drive a Dodge Stratus!" quote. (It's only funny if you check out the link)
2:09: Second "I drive a Dodge Stratus" quote.
2:15: Reach Sumner tunnel. Cost: $3. Distance in Sumner tunnel: 3/4 mi.
3:15: Continental baggage claim tells us they'll get us our bags by the end of the night. In the meantime, they gives $100 per person to cover lack of clothing for evening plans. (read: Red Sox game at Fenway).
5:00: Finish shopping trip. Clothes: $140. Tolietries: $50.
5:12: Pass by the town of Arlmont, MA. Try saying that with a Boston accent.
5:15: "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"
5:23: Park at Alewife station. Notice, again, I am under a sign that says: 2D.
5:30: Get on the Red Line and head to Fenway.
6:30: Mrs. G walks into Fenway for the first time. She has a moment. I have a moment.
6:40: Seats are 5 rows from the field.
7:20: Red Sox down 2-0.
7:40: Red Sox down 4-0.
8:15: Rain begins. Light at first but progressively getting heavier.
8:42: Double-fisted man occupies vacant seats one row to the right.
8:45: Rain is much heavier. Double fisted man takes off his shirt.
8:55: Man returns triple-fisted.
8:57: Random woman decides to join him.
8:59: Woman takes off her shirt.
9:01: 10 Security men come over and escort them away, but not before triple fisted man downs beer and a half and then proceeds to puke all over the man sitting directly in front of him.
9:10: Red Sox down 6-0.
9:11: Decide to leave after the bottom of the sixth after Papi and Manny are up. It's really raining now.
9:12: Mrs. : "We can go back to the hotel and take a warm shower and then take our wet clothes to the laundry room. Do they have a laundry room at the hotel?"
9:13: Mrs. : "Only...we don't have any dry clothes to wear to the laundry room."
9:19: 2-1 Count on Ortiz and the umps call the game. A 2-1 count! What the $%#$%#^$!!!!!
9:29: Back on the train. Very wet, but thoroughly happy with our experience. It was Fenway.
10:01: "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"
10:24: Walk-in hotel room. Find out our bags have arrived!
12:01: After a warm shower, a thorough review and laugh at our day and an Orange Fanta and PB cups, fall asleep.
The thing of it is: (Total Cost + Total Time and Stress) < (Jen and me at Fenway + Seeing my sister graduate from college)
4:15: Mrs. G wakes up. Of course the alarm's gone off three times already.
4:30: I wake up. I'm not as tired as Mrs. G.
5:20: We head out the door.
5:50: Park in the Blue Lot at the Columbus Airport. The Red Lot was closed. That means I have to pay an extra dollar a day to be a whole 300 yards closer to the terminal. Make mental note: Parked directly under the sign that reads: 2D.
6:00: Check-in. All seems well.
6:05: Put clothes back on after passing through airport security. Reach Departure Gate.
6:15: Notice old man wearing the same sweater I planned to wear at my sister's graduation the next day.
6:17: Notice there can't be more than 15 people at the gate, and yet 3 of them are standing by the entrance to the jetway. There goes my chance to get on the plane and pick my seat first. Oh. Wait. It's assigned seating.
6:30: Board the plane, comfortably settling into a window seat.
6:45: As plane begins to taxi for takeoff, pilot slams on the brakes and proceeds to make a U-Turn on the runway. A U-Turn! In a 727! On the freaking runway! This is going to be a great flight.
6:47: First pre-8 a.m. thought: Can a plane hydro-plane?
6:55: Take was smooth. Proceed to put turn on my iPod. Of course I'm sitting directly over the engines and I can't hear a thing, even with the volume turned up, the sound pumping directly into my ears. And it's the iPod that's causing hearing loss?
8:20: Land in the armpit of America (read: New Jersey).
8:35: Buy a Cafe Mocha and a Hot Chocolate and a coffee cake for breakfast at a Starbucks wanna-be. Cost: $10.55. Airport food.
8:40: Arrive at our gate, notice the board reads: Houston, realize something maybe wrong.
8:42: Run back up the moving escalator and notice our flight is "On Time" but doesn't have a gate. That seems a little optimistic, a little arrogant. But apparently pilot's these days can manage to be "On Time" despite actually having a place they are to be at.
8:45: Continental agent tells us our flight is cancelled. Really. And I thought it was "On Time".
9:00: Another agent tells us the flight was cancelled the night before and we were rescheduled to fly out at 9 p.m.. Something that could've be brought to my attention YESTERDAY!
9:05: Change destination to Boston sted Manchester. Flight Attendant: "Hopefully, your bags will get on the same flight and be there when you get there."
9:10: Mrs. and me spat. I didn't quite catch the "Hopefully" part of the explanation.
9:20: Decide to head over to Hertz to change car rental location.
9:40: Hertz tells me they can't make the change and I have to call Hotwire.
9:43: Second spat. Confidence in Continental to "hopefully" get us our bags in waning fast.
10:15: Get through to Hotwire. Cancel car reservation. Am told I can't make a new one because they can't do one-way rentals. Apparently it's too expensive. Great.
10:35: Speak with several companies over the phone. Secure car rental with Thrifty for affordable price.
10:45: Put clothes back on after passing back through security. (It's important to note that even if we had not made the trek to Hertz outside the airport, we would've still had to travel to a different terminal and because Newark is so ghetto, you have to go through the security process again.)
10:55: Reach gate and begin to unwind a little. Still worried about baggage.
11:25: After boarding the plane, pilot tells us the flight will be delayed because of bad weather in Boston. New departure time: 12:24. Pilot: "It's pretty bad in Boston right now folks. And it's only supposed to get worse as the day goes on." Right. So let's wait to take-off. Makes perfect sense.
12:22: Leave Newark. I hate Newark.
1:00: Land in Boston.
1:20: Bags did not make it. And we had such a guarantee, too.
1:30 Bag Claim lady tells us the bags will be sent to Manchester at 9 p.m. Huh? But we're in Boston.
1:31: Am told there's nothing they can do, but they'll try to get them to Boston and deliver them to our hotel.
1:40: Get on Thrifty shuttle to go get our car.
2:05: Get rental car. Dodge Stratus. Original cost in Manchester: $50. New cost: $175 (after est. gas and insurance).
2:07: Make first "I drive a Dodge Stratus!" quote. (It's only funny if you check out the link)
2:09: Second "I drive a Dodge Stratus" quote.
2:15: Reach Sumner tunnel. Cost: $3. Distance in Sumner tunnel: 3/4 mi.
3:15: Continental baggage claim tells us they'll get us our bags by the end of the night. In the meantime, they gives $100 per person to cover lack of clothing for evening plans. (read: Red Sox game at Fenway).
5:00: Finish shopping trip. Clothes: $140. Tolietries: $50.
5:12: Pass by the town of Arlmont, MA. Try saying that with a Boston accent.
5:15: "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"
5:23: Park at Alewife station. Notice, again, I am under a sign that says: 2D.
5:30: Get on the Red Line and head to Fenway.
6:30: Mrs. G walks into Fenway for the first time. She has a moment. I have a moment.
6:40: Seats are 5 rows from the field.
7:20: Red Sox down 2-0.
7:40: Red Sox down 4-0.
8:15: Rain begins. Light at first but progressively getting heavier.
8:42: Double-fisted man occupies vacant seats one row to the right.
8:45: Rain is much heavier. Double fisted man takes off his shirt.
8:55: Man returns triple-fisted.
8:57: Random woman decides to join him.
8:59: Woman takes off her shirt.
9:01: 10 Security men come over and escort them away, but not before triple fisted man downs beer and a half and then proceeds to puke all over the man sitting directly in front of him.
9:10: Red Sox down 6-0.
9:11: Decide to leave after the bottom of the sixth after Papi and Manny are up. It's really raining now.
9:12: Mrs. : "We can go back to the hotel and take a warm shower and then take our wet clothes to the laundry room. Do they have a laundry room at the hotel?"
9:13: Mrs. : "Only...we don't have any dry clothes to wear to the laundry room."
9:19: 2-1 Count on Ortiz and the umps call the game. A 2-1 count! What the $%#$%#^$!!!!!
9:29: Back on the train. Very wet, but thoroughly happy with our experience. It was Fenway.
10:01: "I drive a Dodge Stratus!"
10:24: Walk-in hotel room. Find out our bags have arrived!
12:01: After a warm shower, a thorough review and laugh at our day and an Orange Fanta and PB cups, fall asleep.
The thing of it is: (Total Cost + Total Time and Stress) < (Jen and me at Fenway + Seeing my sister graduate from college)
Wednesday, May 10, 2006
Oh! Oh! It's Magic.
It's sweeps again. So the networks are breaking out the big guns. Including a magic special. One that comes in lieu of another magic-less special. Only this one's got, not only a rhyming title, but celebrities. And, none other than Jessica Simpson. Wow! Jessica Simpson gets fooled by a magic trick: Tonight at 8! Remember, it's the same Jessica Simpson that got the Incredible Mr. Limpet and FogHorn LegHorn confused.
The special also features another piece of eye candy: Matthew McConaughey. Of course, Matt's been one to believe in supra-natural events. Check out two of his movies: #1, #2.
The thing of it is: how do you pronounce extraordinary? Is it extra (pause) ordinary? Or is the emphasis on the "tra" part of the word?
The special also features another piece of eye candy: Matthew McConaughey. Of course, Matt's been one to believe in supra-natural events. Check out two of his movies: #1, #2.
The thing of it is: how do you pronounce extraordinary? Is it extra (pause) ordinary? Or is the emphasis on the "tra" part of the word?
Memory vs. Experience
I like memories. In fact, so much so, I look forward to new experiences for the new memories. Suppose that's not too unusual. By the time this week wraps up, it'll have been a week filled with both. Good and bad experiences. Good and bad memories. But do I have the right to look forward to memories before they happen? If I do, am I missing the joy of the experience? Experiences last for mere moments; memories for much longer. But our memories of experiences are tied up in the experiences themselves. In the way we felt, the way we looked at something from a certain angle. That determines our memories. And that's why I don't think I should be looking forward to seeing the forest through the trees. Otherwise, it might not be much of a forest.
The thing of it is: experiences can be horrible, but years later when we remember the experience, there's a new experience, one of time. Memories are four dimensional.
The thing of it is: experiences can be horrible, but years later when we remember the experience, there's a new experience, one of time. Memories are four dimensional.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Hero's In A Jail Cell
So it seems God has a sense of humor. I know God made the stars on the second day...but....ninja stars?
Anyway, not to mock the guy for doing the Lord's work, but did God really say a Ninja? Are you sure He didn't say Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Or maybe even a Samurai? How about like Daniel LaRusso? But Ninja? Really? God said that?
The thing of it is: if I were going to burn something down, I'd probably dress like this guy and say the devil made me do it. Everyone knows they're evil and it would be justified.
Anyway, not to mock the guy for doing the Lord's work, but did God really say a Ninja? Are you sure He didn't say Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles? Or maybe even a Samurai? How about like Daniel LaRusso? But Ninja? Really? God said that?
The thing of it is: if I were going to burn something down, I'd probably dress like this guy and say the devil made me do it. Everyone knows they're evil and it would be justified.
Rich Old Rulers
So this week, Forbes came out with a list of the richest rulers in the world. The most upsetting: Fidel Castro. His country's in shambles, but good to see he's well-off. So much for the re-distribution of wealth.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the point of having mass amounts of wealth so you don't have to work? And it's one thing to be a rich version of John Henry (Thanks: "We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions"), but to be the leader of a country? I'm not advocating some poor schlub be president or king, look what happened in The Napoleon of Notting Hill, but it just proves some leaders are idiots.
The thing of it is: I know it's about power. But they're all still idiots. But not these idiots.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't the point of having mass amounts of wealth so you don't have to work? And it's one thing to be a rich version of John Henry (Thanks: "We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions"), but to be the leader of a country? I'm not advocating some poor schlub be president or king, look what happened in The Napoleon of Notting Hill, but it just proves some leaders are idiots.
The thing of it is: I know it's about power. But they're all still idiots. But not these idiots.
Someone Set The Limit
I shouldn't be allowed to watch this show anymore. The music's too good. Everytime I watch it, I want to run out the next morning and buy the CD of whichever artist I've just seen. That's what happened this morning. Right now I'm three songs into the CD "Trouble" by Ray LaMontagne. I know, that among my readers (and yes I have them), this isn't everyone's cup of tea, but it's worth the 15 bucks. And, hey, like most of my readers, he used to live in Maine.
One of the last times I watched Austin City Limits, Damien Rice was on. I did the same thing. Again, fantastic album.
The thing of it is: I'm not sure if it was the show that night, the soothing tones of Damien Rice, or that fact that the Sox had just been destroyed by the Yankees in Game 3 of the '04 ALCS, but, for some reason, I've become a Damien Rice fan. And, no, I'm not superstitious. Not at all.
One of the last times I watched Austin City Limits, Damien Rice was on. I did the same thing. Again, fantastic album.
The thing of it is: I'm not sure if it was the show that night, the soothing tones of Damien Rice, or that fact that the Sox had just been destroyed by the Yankees in Game 3 of the '04 ALCS, but, for some reason, I've become a Damien Rice fan. And, no, I'm not superstitious. Not at all.
Friday, May 05, 2006
In the Name of Equality
Check out these remarks by Bono (it takes a little time to read, but well worth it). Yes, Bono. Lead singer of U2. So should we be surprised by the intelligence of the speech, the originality of the speech? Should we think his ideas are amazing because, wow! this is a celebrity saying these things? I'm not sure. It's a well thought out thought. Well-written, well-expressed. Although a few curses could've driven home the idea a little better.
The thing of it is: Bono's using his unequalled and unparalleled success as an intelligent and outspoken public figure to promote equality and justice for all. All things be equal though (i.e. if it were Joe Schmoe making the same statements), I'd still agree with the speech. And that's the barometer.
The thing of it is: Bono's using his unequalled and unparalleled success as an intelligent and outspoken public figure to promote equality and justice for all. All things be equal though (i.e. if it were Joe Schmoe making the same statements), I'd still agree with the speech. And that's the barometer.
Thursday, May 04, 2006
Love, Romance and Beyond
So I just got done watching this movie Beyond Borders. Angelina Jolie. Clive Owen. Some guy who looks like the new Bond. Not a bad film. But not worthy of a review except for this point. On the cover, as you can see, it's labeled: "The Quintessential Love Story for the New Millennium". And not to spoil the plot for you, but....
Woman marries man (the bond-esque dude). Meets another man who expresses his distate for rich people and talks about saving the sick and poor in other countries. Woman goes to Africa, develops a crush. Fast forward five years. Woman and bond-man have child. Marriage is difficult. Bond-man goes, actually, Bond on her and has affair. Woman gets mad, goes to Cambodia to meet other man. They fall in love. Consummate the affair. Man tells woman he's too dangerous and it won't work. Woman leaves. Fast forward 7 years. Woman and Bond-man have two kids (read: love child). Now, woman hears other man is missing. Woman goes to Czechnia to find him and leaves Bond-man.
I'm sorry, but if the the quintessential love story for the new millennium is this, then affairs and lies and betrayal and mistrust are essential to modern romance. Nothing like love, true love, to bring two people together and tear marriages and families apart.
The thing of it is: I don't think they're actually wrong. And that's sad.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
I Hate the Lakers...But...
Kobe Bryant. If you didn't see Kobe's play in Game 4 against the Suns. You need to. I won't link to it. You need to find it yourself.
This series is epic. There's old school hatred (read: Kobe snubbed for the MVP by opponent Steve Nash). There's fighting, there are dirty fouls, there's great basketball and very sloppy play.
Only, Nash and the Suns are the team you're supposed to like. The team that makes you think there's hope for the NBA again. Unselfish play. Run and Gun offense. Good, solid fundamentals. The suburbs, if you will.
But Kobe's the fix. Kobe's the loft apartment that's too much money. Kobe's not safe.
The thing of it is: everyone believed Kobe was getting the ball. Everyone believed Kobe was taking the last shot. Everyone believed it was going in. And it did. And it was unbelievable.
This series is epic. There's old school hatred (read: Kobe snubbed for the MVP by opponent Steve Nash). There's fighting, there are dirty fouls, there's great basketball and very sloppy play.
Only, Nash and the Suns are the team you're supposed to like. The team that makes you think there's hope for the NBA again. Unselfish play. Run and Gun offense. Good, solid fundamentals. The suburbs, if you will.
But Kobe's the fix. Kobe's the loft apartment that's too much money. Kobe's not safe.
The thing of it is: everyone believed Kobe was getting the ball. Everyone believed Kobe was taking the last shot. Everyone believed it was going in. And it did. And it was unbelievable.
Marching Home Again. Hurrah. Hurrah.
A lot had been made of Johnny coming back home again. A little too much. Class act by the bleacher fans who threw money at him. That is why he left. And I had no problem seeing him go. I would've booed.
As for the first sentence to the 2006 baseball novel. It was a great game. Good pitching. Good to see Mirabelli back. Good to see Big Papi on a big stage make everything look small. Not even the wind can hold'em back. Not last night. Not at Fenway. Not against the Yankees.
The thing of it is: my first sentence in the last entry is a reminder that this is only one chapter. One game. But, one win.
As for the first sentence to the 2006 baseball novel. It was a great game. Good pitching. Good to see Mirabelli back. Good to see Big Papi on a big stage make everything look small. Not even the wind can hold'em back. Not last night. Not at Fenway. Not against the Yankees.
The thing of it is: my first sentence in the last entry is a reminder that this is only one chapter. One game. But, one win.
Monday, May 01, 2006
It Starts. Tonight.
There'll be at least 18 more games before we're all done. But tonight...tonight is the first one. The first time in 2006. They say it takes authors a long time to come up with that first sentence to their "great american novel". Tonight is that first sentence of the baseball season. Sure, we're some 25 games into it...heck...we're into the second month of the season. But tonight, tonight the story begins. Tonight the setting is set, the characters are characterized and the plot, well, plotted. And just like a good books, it's all in that first sentence.
The thing of it is: those other 143 games: writer's block.
The thing of it is: those other 143 games: writer's block.
I'm Sorry...Where Do You Live?
So I live on a street called Cherylane. Look at that again. No, it's not cherrylane, it's Cherylane. Cheryl. Like the famous model. To top it off, not only is it a lane, but it's a boulevard. And, no, it's not one of broken dreams. It's always got to be spelled out, though. That's become annoying. Hey, at least I don't live on Pansy Street like a friend of mine does. My grandparents live on a street called Idlewild. My parents lived on a street once that my dad just couldn't forget: it was his first name. Now, my mom has to hang lanterns from the attic window to remind him where he lives.
Streets used to be named for where they led to. Perhaps there was once a whole lane of cheryls who lived here. Maybe there was once an oxymoron that lived at the end of my grandparents' street.
The thing of it is: if I'm coming to your house and I drive past it, will I know where I'll end up?
Streets used to be named for where they led to. Perhaps there was once a whole lane of cheryls who lived here. Maybe there was once an oxymoron that lived at the end of my grandparents' street.
The thing of it is: if I'm coming to your house and I drive past it, will I know where I'll end up?
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