Not Our Problem Dude

I Feel Big

2008-11-12T21:42:00.000-06:00

It sure has been a while; look at the date on that last post, holy mackerel that was a long time ago, I’ve lost so much money since then. Financial crisis aside, everything’s been pretty awesome since last I graced this URL. I had been leaning in and looking forward to the entire month of October since, let’s say, Labor Day, and it didn’t disappoint.

I started out the month working, staying at one of the nicer hotels in Texas but was working to hard to really enjoy it, I didn’t even know they had a pool until one of the last days I was there. The work I was ding was really cool and bigger than most people work on in their entire career. I was almost completely in charge of the whole operation which was insured for around $150M. It was bases loaded, bottom of the ninth stuff and if I hadn’t performed it would’ve been a catastrophe. At one point after being up for almost 20 hours my boss told me to go back to hotel to sleep. Not two hours later I got a panicked phone call asking me what to do. It’s nice to feel wanted, but at that point I just wanted to sleep.

After three weeks of 12-20 hour days with only two days off I was badly in need of a vacation. Fortunately I had already planned one. I flew up to North Carolina to visit my brother on a Saturday evening and was picked up by my brother and his bride-to-be and driven directly to the bar. This same sports bar my brother has been frequenting since it opened ten years ago is the same bar I worked at the summer after my sophomore year of college. There’s a lot of turnover, so not all the staff knows him by name, but I’m pretty sure all of the regulars do. Anyways, we watched some college football and if I’m not mistaking it was game 1 (maybe 2 I forget) of the Sox vs. Rays series. My brother’s friends trickled in as the beer and other assorted booze trickled into our bloodstreams. We went downtown to a club that was mostly lame and then went to a nearby Mexican restaurant which is awesome and even more so at two in the morning. After everyone had retrieved their cars from various places around town, and those that weren’t allowed to spend Sunday further poisoning themselves had been corralled, we went back to the bar (same one, you can walk there from my brother’s place.) Sunday Funday as it’s called started with a few rounds of beers, entertained by NFL’s finest galoots, and was rolling along rather smoothly until my brother ordered what was to be first of numerous rounds of Jaegerbombs. Though I doubt Jaegerbombs were what the Founding Fathers had in mind when they penned the Declaration of Independence, I’m sure that’s only because Redbull hadn’t been invented yet. Needless to say it’s a slippery slope when you’ve been drinking beer all day. Around the time the afternoon games ended, everything gets really fuzzy around the edges, but the other day when I was doing laundry I found a couple ATM slips for withdrawals that night at a place called “Raleigh Restaurant Concepts,” which I can assure you is not a restaurant, one at 10:30pm and one at 1:30am.

Monday we packed the cars and drove to the beach. We spent the next few days lounging in a huge mansion on one of North Carolina’s lesser known barrier islands, drinking beer, fishing, and jumping back and forth between the hot tub and the swimming pool. The hot tub was a steamy 104 F and the swimming pool was whatever temperature makes the mountains turn blue on the Coors Light bottle. Thursday we drove back to Raleigh to pick up the Tuxedos and for tailgating and to watch the first half of the NC State vs. Florida State slugfest, after which we went back to tailgating. I convinced two different people to hit my brother in the face with a pie. His retaliation was to peg me snowball style with a handful of mashed potatoes.

My one job for Friday was to get my brother, the groom, back to the beach in time for lunch with the grandparents and the wedding rehearsal. Lunch was fun, I sat with the bridesmaids, the brides aunt and uncle, and the other best man. I don’t think there were too many jokes made at our expense, as we had been up late the previous night celebrating a game no one knew who won. The rehersal itself was a breeze, the main topic of conversation being how much or how little everybody wanted to get to the party that would soon be taking place at the aforementioned mansion.

At the party, I was tapped to play bartender, which in retrospect was probably a bad choice. It was only after going through two handles of vodka that I noticed that it was 100 proof. In attendance was a good portion of my father’s side of the family, and two of my mother’s brothers. Additionally, there was a large assortment of my brother’s knucklehead friends, one I’ve known my whole life, and some of whom I met for the first time when I was like fourteen. For the actual wedding a few of his highschool buddies showed up, including one whom we went to my first Phish concert with Thanksgiving 1995, I was 12.

The wedding itself was perfect in every way, with the notable exception of the minister butchering our last name, but he’s not the first and once out of the like ten times he had to say it isn’t bad. My virtuosic cousins provided the ceremonies music and my mom sang a hymn that had so many amens at the end I wondered if it had ended and my mom was trying to delay the nuptials as long as she could. Both the ceremony and the reception were at the Aquarium, so after the kissing of the bride and recessionaling we made our way to the shark tank for pictures. Lighting the pictures in fornt of the shark tank turned out to be more difficult then the photogs had thought and it was quite a process to get everything taken care of, but we had people bringing us little delights like salami wrapped cream cheese, and mini Cuban sandwiches and cold Miller Lites and stuff like that. Dinner was equally delightful, with seared Ahi and the top your own mashed potato sundae bar being the star attractions.

After dinner it was time for the couples first dances, my brother and sister-in-law danced to the Aleisha Keys song about how it will only get better, the bride danced with her father to a slow country song about fathers and daughters, and my brother danced with my mom to Paul Simon’s American Tune and my eyes welled for maybe the third time of the evening.

Then came the much hyped toasts. I should’ve worked a little harder on mine. Had I put a little more effort into it, I would’ve noticed my plan involved an f-bomb, which f-bomb I will regret until I die. I also boneheadedly missed a perfect opportunity to score points with in-laws. The bride’s father and consequently a portion of the bride-side guests were Marines, and one of my standard toasts is to “our Brothers and Sisters overseas.” I’m an idiot, oh well, live and learn.

After the wedding it was back to reality for yours truly, but October was only part of the way done. I came back to New Orleans and one of my best friends was visiting, that weekend was Voodoo fest, where we saw Lil Wayne(!!!) and Mars Volta who if you’re not familiar is basically a Mexican Led Zepplin, and some others. The weekend after that was Halloween, which is going to require its own post. The next week, I voted for the first time and we elected the first non-white-male president in the 232 years of our United States. It’s been quite a ride.

The Only Political Post I'm Going to Write

2008-09-27T13:50:00.003-05:00

I watched part of the McBama debate last night and I was once again struck by how little I liked either candidate. I was only 17 in 2000 so I can blame HangingChadGate and 9/11 and Iraq on everyone else, but in 2004 I was so distrustful of both candidates that I didn't vote. Now what with the economic downturn fully-fledged into an economic crisis, I wish I had voted for Kerry so I could legitimately complain at how bad W had fucked up this country. But that's not what I want to talk about...

I've been called a homophobe more times then I've been called good looking. I've been called misogynist more times than I've been called tall. Where am I going with this? As much as I don't trust Obama, I can't possibly vote for anyone in a party whose taken an official stance against abortions or gay marriages. In the preamble of the Declaration of Independence, the framers made clear the rights to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Life's a tricky one when your talking about abortions especially late termers, but the liberty for a woman to choose is pretty clear, and if that child will hamper her pursuit of happiness, then that's 2 to a shaky 1. When it comes to gay marriages, I'm going to paraphrase Jon Stewart because I don't remember the exact quote: I'm against gay marriages, that's awful, oh wait, you mean I don't have to marry a dude? Then why would I care? If someone finds comfort in the arms of someone with matching genitalia, then that sounds like pursuit of happiness to me, to say nothing of liberty. We hold these truths to be self evident, unalienable rights, life, liberty, and pursuit of happiness. I can't figure out why that's so hard to understand.

It all goes back to religion and religious extremists. As near as I can figure, the only people who really get fired up about pro-life and against gay marriage are the extreme Christians (I'm looking at you Southern Baptists)who spent a bunch of time looking through the bible trying to find something that they could interpret to mean that stuff that they don't agree with is immoral.

Anyone who lets their fear be mongered by Hannity or OReilly and the rest of the Fox News crew is an idiot. I don't care if you're a world famous economist, if you're a Grammy winning artist or a successful entrepreneur, if you watch more than 5 minutes of Fox News on a regular basis and do anything but laugh at it, you are a victim of brainwashing and I feel sorry for you.

Rant over, I do have one positive thing to say and that is it appears that both energy independence and sustainability have become priorities on both sides of the aisle. I occasionally get these chainemails from the Hannity types talking trash about Al Gore and how his scientists lied and all sorts of other bullshit about how people that can't afford our ridiculously priced healthcare system don't deserve it. But, it seems, saying that global warming isn't real has become political suicide, which is great.

Always Evacuate to a Place that has a Hot Tub

2008-09-09T18:28:00.002-05:00

I try not to worry about things. Worrying only begets more worrying and the next thing you know you’re having a seizure and ruining your favorite t-shirt. The thing about worrying is, if something goes wrong it’s either your fault or it’s not. If it is your fault then maybe you should of done something about it instead of worrying, and if its not your fault, that what purpose did the worrying serve except to upset, stress, or cause you to throw up on other people.

In the middle of a ferocious hurricane season, it’s easy to tell the natural born worriers from those that aren’t. Surprisingly, it seems the ones who print out the latest spaghetti models and post them outside their office are actually the calmest. It’s the one’s who refuse to admit that they know what wunderground.com is, that are in the most danger of soiling themselves or elsewise acting irrationally.

When all the computer models are pointed at you though, I suppose you are allowed to freak out a little. Such is not the case with Ike (I like Ike, but how do you get that from Dwight?) The latest models all show Ike hitting around Corpus Christi, TX and the people of New Orleans will be spared another mass evacuation. Someone told me only 10,000 people didn’t evacuate for Gustav, the storm our Mayor, Governor, and National Weather Service called The Storm of the Century. Katrina gets to keep that title for now, and will probably keep it longer than C. Ray stays in office, but that’s neither here nor there.

We evacuated the Saturday before Gustav was supposed to make his late Monday/early Tuesday landfall. I packed 4 days of clothes, 3 books, the highly portable electronics (laptop, MP3), my guitar and cooler full of water, Gatorade and string cheese. I cleaned out anything that I didn’t want to find in my refrigerator an unrefrigerated month later, started the dishwasher and headed for higher ground. I-10 was a parking lot until we got past Gulf Shores, and between three people we smoked an entire pack of cigarettes before we passed Jazz Land. By 2 in the morning we were still shy of Tallahassee so we stopped for the night in a shabby Days Inn with no pool and a lying sign about free wireless internet.

We got up early, ate Burger King breakfast and hit the road with spirits considerably higher than they were when we had stopped the previous night. I wiled away several hours reading aloud a pretty awesome book called The Diamond Age by my second favorite author. Keep in mind at this point we were still visualizing disaster scenarios and wondering when we’d see home again. We hit Orlando and stretched our legs right to the TV to turn on CNN. I unpacked the booze and made a strong drink, and didn’t worry about the storm again until after a long day of drinking, after everyone else was in bed, I smoked my last cigarette and checked the models and saw them all headed straight for Cocodrie, 50 miles west of the city, downgraded to a category 1, and wondered what everyone had been so worried about.

HEARTBREAK!

2008-08-19T15:49:00.004-05:00

Gold medal favorite in both the 100M hurdles and my heart, Lolo Jones clipped the second to last hurdle with her toe allowing the rapping Dawn Harper to assume the lead and take the gold for the US of A. Lolo crumpled to the ground after finishing 7th and punched the track while tears streamed down her face.

Phelpsed- v. To dominate completely

2008-08-18T10:22:00.002-05:00

As of right now golden boy Michael Phelps has more medals than Poland, Kenya and Denmark, and more gold medals than Italy, Ukraine, and France.

Awesomest Thing I've Seen Today

2008-07-20T14:27:00.000-05:00

Anybody need a butler?

2008-07-17T20:29:00.000-05:00

I haven’t really written anything since Jazz Fest, but you haven’t either so go fuck yourself. And besides I didn’t finish writing those Jazz Fest posts until like three weeks afterwards so really it’s only been like a month, or two. Holy shit, that was like two months ago. It’s amazing how time flies when you have actual work to do. I’ve been working on this project for a little longer than two months now, which come to think of it is why it took me so long to get around to the Jazz Fest posts. When I was writing them one of my friends asked me how I could possibly remember all the stuff that happened. The answer is easy, I could write more about those four days three weeks later than I can about the last two months right now. Let’s see, I went to the beach and hung out with the fam, it was cloudy and cool one day but we got wasted anyway, Saturday was nice and we had an awesome dinner with shellfish appetizers and baked Salmon and garlic bread. My parents came to visit the dirty and found the heat oppressive. On my birthday I bought a white linen suit and wore it to a fancy French dinner and then we got drunk at the art museum where we did the cupid shuffle with Big Sam and his Funky Nation. Tha Carter III came out. We went up to my buddy’s family farm in east bumblefuck Louisiana. His little sister’s friend still creeps into the naughty part of my brain at weird times. My advice to them was: having a real job is waaaayyyy overrated. For the Fourth of July we had a kegger at the St Charles house and set off fireworks in the neutral ground, natch. The next day we ate left over ribs and watched concurrent terrible movies on USA and TNT all day. I got Guitar Hero and I’m ¾ of the way through it on expert, I’m pretty awesome. There’s a lot of other drunken random shit in between all that, but even if you pick out the four best days, it’d be hard difficult to beat the second weekend of Jazz Fest.

I guess my point though, would be how easy it is to fall into the rhythm of the day to day, I call it cruise control. It’s fucking draining though. Cruise control was a better term for it in college when you’d wake up one day after celebrating midterms and it would be finals time. Now it’s like everyday you have to do the routine, snooze alarm, breakfast, shower, teeth, drive, sit, coffee, etc. and then the next day you wake up and you’re forty? Fuck that man, without music, my favorite neurotoxins, or if I didn’t love my job I would’ve flipped a long time ago, not that long, I'm two weeks shy of my two year anni. They say the key is to get more sleep, which I’ve been on a campaign to do. But yeah, bitch fest over, real job = overrated.

Time has always been one of my favorite things to think about. Assuming I’m not insane, you’ve noticed that first time you drive somewhere far away it seems to take longer than the return or any subsequent trips. This has to do with my theory of relativity which borrows slightly from Einstein’s. It has to do with frame of reference, and it goes something like this: a ten year old and a twenty year old experience the same moment, say the moment right before a sail boat tips, when you know it’s going to but it hasn’t quite yet. That moment, however brief, will feel twice as long to the 10 year old because his frame of reference, or the collected sum of his experiences is half as long. Relatively speaking the fraction of his life up to then that he spends in that moment is twice that of the twenty year old (really it would be thrice because no one remembers being five.) On a larger scale, and to take it back to school, how much quicker did your senior year of high school feel then when you were a freshman? On an even larger scale and to bring it back to my rant, as we get old, each day feels shorter.

Once when I was a little kid I asked my mom what it meant to stop and smell the roses, this is a true story, I honestly did not get the point of that saying, she said, honest to god, she said, one day when you’re older you’ll understand.

aka Mr Lemonhead

2008-07-09T16:40:00.000-05:00

Sticker Cars Part One

Presto

2008-07-08T11:02:00.001-05:00

This is pretty sweet

2008-07-01T15:37:00.000-05:00

In case you were wondering...

2008-05-30T09:19:00.003-05:00

In case you were wondering how one gets the nickname Shorty...

Jazz Fest Part II

2008-05-27T21:22:00.000-05:00

I've been lallygagging the shit out of writing this post but I started it this past weekend and I figured I'd get it out before it had gone the way of the AP Chemistry and European History.

I left off Friday night dancing to four nerdy white guys at the Bon Temps until sunrise...

Saturday I chose not to go to the festival, missing the Roots and Steel Pulse, a sacrifice I was willing to make in order to save up (and by save up I mean sleep until 5pm) for the big Saturday night -> Sunday push. I drank a few beers watching Under Siege waiting for those who made it to the fest to return. We then went to one of my favorite New Orleans eateries, Dick & Jenny's, and got in line for a table at around 8 o'clock. We then went around the corner and I had a few Gin and Tonics. When we finally got our table around 11:30pm, I was a little drunk, to say nothing of the rest of that party who had drinking steadily since noon. The food was obviously out of this world and dinner was otherwise fairly unremarkable, except for the part where we got free dessert for leading the dining room in a Journey sing along. It is fair to say I didn't stop believing how good my tempura soft shell crab in Thai curry sauce was.

From Dick & Jenny's we walked our full bellies to an even fuller Mae's where the majority of our party cabbed it home to cuddle/pass out. I however had tickets to the Greyboy Allstars back up the street at Tips. The Greyboys always play the last Saturday night of the Fest at Tips and they never start before 3am and it's always sold out. This year, having never been, I bought tickets a month ahead of time. Denson and Walter and the rest of the boy's funked us until about 6:30am at which point I collapsed into bed for a couple of hours and went back out to the fest.

On feet too numb to be sore we made the long walk to the fest for the last time of the year. Liuzza's is closed Sundays so there were no Bushwhackers to be had. In a daze I ate my last Cochon De Lait poboy of the fest and arrived at the Gentilly stage just in time to see Galactic and get the Inspector Gadget song stuck in my head the rest of the day. I ran into an old college classmate who was in town for the weekend and I was regretting not having seen up to that point. I used to do homework at this girl's house and then we'd sit around on the porch and drink beers afterwards. I probably did less than 25% of the homework that was assigned to me throughout my college career, and I'm positive I would've blown off those assignments as well if it wasn't for her. After Galactic we stayed to watch the Raconteurs who played a decent if commercially successful set. It was nice though, to see a rock show in between so much jazz/funk/blues/latin fusion. From there I circled back around the back of the main stage to at least be able to say I saw Santana, a move I immediately regretted when as soon as we cleared a sight line to the stage he promptly started playing my least favorite song of all time, by anyone, evar (Smooth, fucking hate that fucking song.) So anyways we picked up the pace and continued the circle around to the Blues Tent to close out the fest with the Derek Trucks Band.

It would be the third time I'd seen the Derek Trucks Band and I'm a huge fan (obviously huge enough to completely forgo the highly touted Neville Bros. closing the festival on the big stage.) We rolled up right as Keb Mo was finishing up and the aisles of the Blues Tent cleared out like the people could smell us walking in. We posted up front and center leaning on the railing that was in front of the stage. I patted myself on the back for the good luck and began worrying if there would be enough crowd soon enough that I could pee my pants without anyone noticing because there was no way I was leaving that spot. Five excruciating minutes later an usher told us that in the blues tent there is no standing room except at the very back. I jogged to a portapotty line that wasn't 8 deep and got some decent Zen considering the circumstances. After returning to th bak of the blues tent where luckily my krewe had staked out a pretty good spot in the merciful shade and saw what was probably one of the awesomest slide guitar performances in my life. Also, Derek has an sweet jazzflute player who I can't help but idolize. Derek's wife, Susan Tedeschi who's made a career out of opening for acts like B.B. King, Bob Dylan and Taj Mahal, also joined him on stage for a few songs which was nice as she can sing worlds better than he can. They finished up their set and went offstage and the MC appeared to try to tell the crowd to go home which enough did to allow us to move up fairly close to the stage to pound our hands together and scream for what seemed like 20 minutes before they came back on stage and tore off the best version of one of my top five favorite songs of all time I've ever heard.

Jazz Fest is the Best

2008-05-06T17:54:00.009-05:00

So that was the friday before this past, the only day I made it out to the fairgrounds that weekend. I'll regret for a while missing Billy Joel, and may regret missing Al Green for the rest of my life. If you'd seen that doppler radar picture though... you'd probably've stayed home too.

I did my best to make up for it this past weekend, and the photos are yet to go up on the official Jazz Fest website, but I'll talk you through one of the longer weekends of my short life.

Thursday I got up early and went to work as if it were any other day, except everyone was surprised to see me as I had made clear my intention to go to the Fest. I put out a couple of fires and then went back home to change out of my work clothes and get into the spirit of things. I drove to my friends' house which we use as Jazz Fest home base, and met my friend and two of her bff's from from out of town. I drank a Maker's on the rocks and listened to Sneaking Sally through the Alley inordinately loud while they got themselves ready. The walk to the Fest from the house googlemaps at 1.7mi, and is way worse on the way home. Along the way however, is a famous bar/restaurant (that may be the first time I've ever spelled restaurant correctly on my first try) called Liuzza's that serves a milkshake-like daiquiri called a bushwhacker that makes the walk tolerable. From Liuzza's we walked along bayou St John to the aptly named Idealmart to buy plastic pocket-sized bottles of alcohol (for smuggling) and other supplies. We (my friend and her two bff's whom she only apologized for like 27 times) then walked along the bayou to the Fest. We made it in time to see the last two Bonerama songs and say hi to some hippies before heading over to the Gentilly stage for Kermit Ruffins. Kermit was obviously stoned and played two too many slow songs but made up for it with his charisma, his musicianship and medley of Top-20 club bangers that his drummer sang and pretty much killed. I'm pretty sure that from there we went straight to the Acura stage and got settled in for good 2.5 hour Widespread Panic set that was broken up by a short Mardi Gras Indians set at about the 1:05 mark. The last time I saw Widespread was probably more than five years ago but I've always been a fan. Their new guitar player (who at least 3 people told me was the greatest guitar player ever) is quite good and I salute his eschewing of the PRS he was playing on some of the songs I didn't recognize for a good old fashion American Strat on the songs I did. By the time the show was over and my love for Widespread was thoroughly rekindled, I was pretty drunk and approaching exhaustion. We walked the almost two miles back to the house where I may or may not've collapsed on the couch. We did however go to a nearby noodlehouse where I set my mouth on fire with rooster sauce and drank a mai tai and don't really remember what I ate. My friends graciously put me in a cab before they headed downtown to my favorite bar to see Rebirth, I think. My destination however, was Tipitina's where I had reserved tickets to see my mandolin mancrush, Sam Bush. If you've never been to a Sam Bush concert, alone, exhausted, and completely shitfaced I'd have to recommend it. He played one of my favorite John Hartford songs called the Good Ole' Days (that my dad informs me he recorded with John Hartford), and then just to fuck with my head jammed it into Whole Lotta Love (which sounds surprisingly awesome when played on the mando.) He then went off stage and came back with Up on Cripple Creek for an encore, that asshole. So I'm falling down drunk, completely alone walking out of Tips, I do what any sane human would do in that situation; I walk to Mae's. Unfortunately, on the walk, I stubbed my toe on one of NOLA's more awesome sidewalks and because my foot and sandal are covered with blood am not allowed into Mae's. I made a few calls and jumped in a cab and rolled over to my buddies' house and administered some first aid We then went to the Maple Leaf and saw some allstar-type funk band including Bonerama's awesome-jawed drummer, Zigaboo's Afro'd guitar player, and the guy who I always see playing the sax at Dos Jefe's. According to my friends I fell asleep at the bar, which I felt bad about until someone told me it happened around 6:00am (or 23.5 hours after I had woken up.)

Friday I woke up around noon and took the truck over to my buddies' house and picked him up and his out of town crew. We rolled over to my friends' house and we did the walk again, including the stop at Liuzza's. Saw Zigaboo and his crew funk it up for a little while and then Trombone Shorty blew my mind. Shorty (and his saxophonist who, were I a chick I would definitely bone) put on what was a definitely a sleeper pick for best show of the weekend. After Shorty we got food, beer, and bathroomed and then got set up to see Stevie Wonder, who spent ten minutes talking about politics in a voice too low to hear and then played three excruciatingly slow songs so we cruised over to Congo Square to see Franti & Spearhead which was awesome. I've become a big fan of Franti since the first time I saw him live, prior to which I had an argument with a dude a saw at the show about how much I disliked his preachy attitude. That was back when Stay Human was the only Franti I had heard and I'm still not sure I'm anti-death penalty. Yell Fire though has some great songs on it, and I'm definitely anti-war so I'm not, for lack of a better word, distracted by the politics in his music. Anyway dude didn't bring up the fact that I once had one of those recordstopscreech moments at his house party when I said I didn't like Franti, which I appreciate because I'm embarassed about it in retrospect. If you've never seen Franti though he is an electrifying presence who stands about 7 feet tall and dances around and speaks from the heart and his band rocks. Every now and then it would start raining and he would come down into the crowd and dance around. Soaked to the core we walked back to my friend's house and I hadn't really been drinking so I drove everybody home and then we met up at one of my favorite bars, Le Bon Temps Roule, and saw Simon Lott and Anders Osborne. Simon Lott is the drummer that the guys from Galactic would rather play with because Stanton Moore is a douche and Simon Lott is a way better drummer. Bills must be paid though so Galactic with Stanton Moore still exists. A few more friends showed up and I noticed at one point that like twelve people that I truly care about were at this one bar and the good times were indeed rolling.

That was Friday. More to come.

Forever New Orleans

2008-04-22T19:25:00.002-05:00

I’m going to drop my usual irreverent tone for a minute and talk about something I really care about.

The first summer I spent in New Orleans, there were five of us. Me and my four friends saw a lot of each other that summer, dining together almost every night and rarely separated on weekends. Of the five of us I am the only one still living in the New Orleans.
Some people are drawn to the west coast; some say it's ingrained in our nature to go west. Some people are drawn to New York; they say one out every three Americans is related to someone who lives in Brooklyn. Others, understandably, leave the country. Inexplicably, some set up shop in the Midwest. While people do come back, most don't.
I'd say of the five people I hang out with most, I'd say I'd be lucky if four of them still live here in a year and three of them in two years. Outside of that, I can count at least four others off the top of my head that are leaving in the next year and two more that as far as I can tell have no intention of staying in New Orleans for the long run. I can’t begin to tell you how sad this makes me. I can't see myself living anywhere else; New Orleans is a part of who I am. I’ve lived here long enough that it’s all I really know; it’s all I really care to know.

As I see it there are two legitimate reasons to leave excluding bankruptcy and other family emergencies and other life shattering events. If you happen to want a career in an industry that doesn’t really exist in New Orleans such as ~~architecture, manufacturing, politics, engineering, finance~~ … I really can’t think of anything we don’t have down here, and if there’s something missing than start your own business in this niche market and your all set (I’m looking at you Burrito Delivery guy.) So I guess there’s only one reason to leave that I’m ok with, and that is Master’s/Doc’s at really, really good schools. If you want to get an advanced degree, it’s my belief that you should do so from a top 10 school, otherwise your better off working and gaining experience in whatever you’d be “learning” at school. If you want to move to Boston to get your Ph.D. at MIT or at UT Austin, or U Cal Berkeley, rock the fuck on and best of luck to you, if you want to move to Baltimore and go to med school at Johns Hopkins, I’ll give you a ride. But if you want to get a masters in Engineering and you don’t get in to Ga Tech, UTA, or A&M, just go to UNO at night after work, you’ll be a much better person for it than if you spent all your free time teaching or lab ratting it up at BU or Vanderbilt (both of which have excellent top 50 engineering schools that I’m using to make a point, not berate, which only reminds me how off topic I’ve gotten.)

As a young urban professional in New Orleans I have no shortage of resources except my friends. I have a long history of forgetting and eventually losing friends I do not see on a regular basis. Some blame it on my short attention span, some call it “out of sight out of mind,” some call me a huge asshole. My point is only that every time someone leaves New Orleans it’s one less reason fro me to stay, and I don’t want to go; I love it here. I have a career here. I can see myself raising a family here, assuming I get around to that. I live here, New Orleans is my home.

A college friend sent me this video recently looking for some free pub:

If you’re not Youtube capable, it’s a promotional video from the visitor’s bureau featuring Kermit Ruffins (co-founded Rebirth in 1983 and is probably the most energetic and charismatic trumpet player working in New Orleans) singing about New Orleans while the video highlights various attractions including a trip through the Jacque-Imo’s kitchen, pounds from a server at Camellia, and various other restaurants and attractions from around town.

I agreed to shill the video for two reasons, (and I promise I’ll keep both of these this time) I support the video’s message, which is: you’ve been to the zoo, you’ve been to Columns, you had a great time, come back. The other reason is that I’ve been meaning to write this piece about people leaving for some time, and a little motivation goes a long way.

So, next time you get the chance, come to New Orleans, I’ll be here, you’ll have a great time, I promise.

Of course that is all assuming that Al Gore doesn't drown us all in the meantime.

Facebook's Lexicon

2008-04-22T18:01:00.004-05:00

Facebook's Lexicon program counts the occurence of words written on walls and if used properly is full of interesting information.

Gen-Y LOVES Obama.
This one's funny and can be interpreted thusly: the regular cycle is weekly, the first peak is Holloween, with lots of parties and only a slight rise in hangovers, while the second peak is New Years with about as many parties, and a huge spike in hangovers.
This one shows what Gen-Y really cares about, the spike in beer is St Paddy's.

Discussing the Merits of Terrible Movies

2008-04-15T17:57:00.004-05:00

You may notice the poll to the right has changed to something a little more relevant to today’s topic of discussion. I chose “No” but in the interest of full disclosure must admit to having seen Broken Arrow somewhere on the order of ten times, maybe even fifteen.

For those unfamiliar with the film, allow be to briefly synopsize (or you could just watch this video and get dared by me not to laugh). Two Air Force pilots are out on a training mission in a new top secret bomber over Utah. They are carrying nuclear tipped missiles for whatever reason. One of the pilots (Travolta), in turns out, is in cahoots with some terrorists and he steals the missiles, crashes the plane, and thinks he’s killed the other pilot (Slater) but hasn’t, and he (Slater) tracks him down and saves the day, with the help of a comely park ranger (Samantha Mathis, whose name sounds more familiar (oh, not Samantha Morton) than it should considering her only other role of note is as the voice of Crysta the fairy in Fern Gully the Last Rainforest, although to be fair she did play princess Daisy in the Super Mario Bros. movie alongside Bob Hoskins, John Leguizamo, and Dennis Hopper, lol.) Rounding out the supporting cast is some allstar talent: Delroy Lindo (who I was suprisingly unable to find a picture of wearing COOGI, but this will go), Bob Gunton (“I believe in two things: discipline and the Bible. Here you'll receive both. Put your trust in the Lord; your ass belongs to me. Welcome to Shawshank.”), Frank Whaley (says what again, gets shot), Howie Long (Son Chris Long will be a top 5 pick in next week’s NFL draft, thanks HGH), Vondie Curtis-Hall (Plays “Captain Prince” in Baz Luhrman’s Romeo+Juliet), Shaun Toub (plays the shop owner who shoots the little girl in Crash), Daniel Von Bargen (Got caught fucking his cousin in ’72), James MacDonald (if you haven’t seen Tigerland, you should), French Stewart (Spokesman for Clamato, presumably because they’re both weird and slightly nauseating?) and Kurtwood Smith (Red Foreman).

So in the course of arguing whether Broken Arrow is a good movie or not, I kept trying (and daring others) to come up with a good quote from the movie. Despite my certainty that a movie starring John Travolta and Christian Slater would have some awesome one-liners, and other’s certainty that they could think of one, no one was able to come up with so much as a character name. (This including a friend who can name like 15 actors from the movie Heat off the top of his head, not that that’s hard, Pacino, De Niro, Kilmer, Judd, Brenneman, Portman, Azaria, Voight, Sizemore, Trejo, Fitchner, Tone Loc, the President from 24, how many is that?) However, in case you’re like me and crave quotes from terrible movies:

Slater: You know - these exercises are fantastic. When the day comes we have to go to war against Utah, we're really going to kick ass, y'know?

Travolta: I do appreciate the money that you and your associates have invested in this operation, but it IS an operation. It's a military operation. And you don't know dick about that.

Travolta: Battle is a highly fluid situation. You plan on your contingencies, and I have. You keep your initiatives, and I will. One thing you don't do is share command. It's never a good idea.

Slater: You're out of your mind.
Travolta: Yeah. Ain't it cool?

Brett from Pulp Fiction: I don't know what's scarier, losing a nuclear weapon or that it happens so often there's actually a term for it.

Mathis: Clyde, what exactly does a suspicious truck look like?

Slater: Endangered dirt. That's a new one.

Travolta: Would you mind not shooting at the thermonuclear weapons?

Gunton: It's still my money.
Travolta: And if we succeed, you and your associates will get a ton of it.
Gunton: *IF* we're successful?
Travolta: Look, Mr. Pritchett, I will deliver the weapons to the destination. But I can't depend and I can't guarantee that those assholes in Washington won't do something stupid like... not pay.
Gunton: What if they don't?
Travolta: Well, if they don't, the southwest will be a quiet neighbourhood for... about ten thousand years.

Guy from Crash: You probably thought I was a computer nerd, didn't ya? Ha-ha-ha, wrong! I was a Navy SEAL, lady. You really should see what I can do... with just my thumb.

Travolta: You know, Hale, I considered asking you to come in on this. Know why I didn't?
Slater: Because I would have said "no"?
Travolta: Nah, if you had said no, I'd have just killed you. I was afraid you were going to say yes. Because you don't have the balls to go through with something like this, we both know that.

[last lines]
Mathis: You know you're still under arrest, Captain.
Slater: [holding Terry's hand] Well, looks like you're gonna have to take me in.

Jail Bait Likely Headed to Jail, SWIS, Crazy Chirren

2008-04-09T07:11:00.000-05:00

Six teenage girls (all technically minors) are in custody and may be tried as adults with felonies battery and kidnapping. The girls allegedly lured a fellow cheerleader who had been talking some e-trash on MySpace and took turns punching her in the face. The victim was left with two black eyes and loss of hearing in one ear. One of the future crack whores video taped the whole thing and put it on the internet expediting their trip up shit creek. The girls were rumored to be joking while in their jail cell that they wouldn't be making it to cheerleading practice.

Now before you watch the video, see if you can guess where these little darlings are from. Could it be Texas, the land of the Cheerleader? Could it be Los Angeles the land of the privileged crazy bitch? Or is it Florida, the land of white trash and eight year old kids on a bicycles with a guns?

Update: According to the news this morning there is a significant amount of this tape that has not been seen by the public. Prior to the part shown above there is allegedly a scene where the girl's head is slammed against a wall and she is knocked unconscious.

Not too long ago we had the tale of the girl who commit suicide because of MySpace trash talking. A co-worker of mine mentioned the other day that he checked his 14 year old's MySpace routinely for any sort of funny business. When I was 14 I had about three different email addresses, (none of which were accessible by my parents) supplying myself with various degrees of anonymity, two different AIM accounts, a rudimentary web page that was nothing more than downloading station for a live Moe. show and pictures of some models I had crushes on (Kate Moss, Tyra Banks lol!) I knew one kid who had a video camera, we used it a few of times to try and spy on each other hooking up with girls, which worked exactly 1 time. My high school had a social networking program called SWIS that was kind of like an intra-net based facebook with IM. Back then it was about as addictive as facebook mixed with crack. There were a few ways to fuck with people, chat invite bombing, logging in as someone else and doing stuff they wouldn't do (sorry Alyssa), other mostly harmless stuff, but the penalty for getting caught doing anything more than slightly innocuous was fairly steep and so most pranks were kept pretty tame.

There's an awesome facebook group called "Overheard at Tulane" where people post things they've heard around or nearby campus. The comments range from hilariously ridiculous statements about sex or drugs, to things that are beyond hilariously moronic. The more they are taken out of context the better. I bring this up because the kids who are writing on this board are not significantly older than these girls in sunny FLA. I however, can remember things that happened to me in 1990, the year that most of this year's high school seniors were born. Which is a round-about way of saying that I'm old and as such can say:
WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH KIDS TODAY?

You Do NOT Fuck With This Dude's Elephants

2008-03-31T18:02:00.000-05:00

Tony Jaa from the movie The Protector:

This continuous shot took like 5 takes, and the first one they had to stop like 2/3rds of the way through because the guy carrying the steadycam couldn't keep up.

And this is the scene where he gets really pissed and just starts breaking shit:

Fazz Jest

2008-03-28T16:21:00.001-05:00

The Jazz Fest block schedules are up and I'm more excited than a pedophile at a swim meet. Let's make a preliminary plan:

(First) Friday April 25th – There’s always two bands you want to see playing at the same time, and that trend continues with Leo Nocentelli’s super group at Congo Square competing with Robert Plant & Allison Krauss on the Acura stage. A dilemma to be sure, followed closely by Burning Spear on the Congo Square stage with Ozomatli w/ Chali 2na on the lawn over at the Gentilly Stage. Late Night: Dumpstafunk at Howlin’ Wolf

(First) Saturday April 26th – Piano day: Jon Cleary > Dr. John > Billy Joel, all at Acura Stage, get a spot and post up. Late Night: Bonerama at the Maple Leaf

(First) Sunday April 27th – This is going to involve some leg work, but I think I can get from Irma Thomas at the Acura stage all the way over the Fais Do Do for some Del McCoury roots music, swing by the Gentilly Stage for some Allen Toussaint and Elvis Costello, all the way back to the Acura to catch maybe five minutes of Tim McGraw for research purposes, then settle in for the duration at Congo Square with Al Mother Fucking Green. School Night.

Wednesday April 30th – Soulive at One Eyed Jacks.

Thursday May 1st – Widespread on the Acura stage, preceded by PBS and Bonerama, probably another get there and post up day. Late Night: Sam Bush and Trombone Shorty at Tips or maybe Rebirth and Page McConnell at some place called the Sugar Mill.

(Second) Friday May 2nd – Another competeing problem with Stevie Wonder on the Acura stage and Franti at Congo Square. On the surface this is a no-brainer but I’ve seen Franti outdoors and in, and the former is way better. But when am I ever goiong to get the chance to Stevie Wonder again? Probably never. Late Night: Soul Rebels at the Balcony Club or possibly Gov’t Mule at the CAC.

(Second) Saturday May 3rd – I’ve never been a huge Jimmy Buffet fan, so I can skip him and choose between Diana Krall on the lawn, Steel Pulse at Congo Square, Irvin Mayfield in the Jazz tent or (most likely) Kenny Wayne Shepard in the Jazz Tent. Late Night: Franti and Greyboy Allstars at Tips.

(Second) Sunday May 4th – More competition, but as much as I would like to see the Raconteurs (as much as I make fun of him, Jack White is as incredible musician) I think Santana is going to have to take precedence, then Derek Trucks at the Blues tent for a little while before rolling back to Acura for the Neville Brothers. Late Night: collapse in total exhaustion.

More Saints Rumors

2008-03-26T09:01:00.002-05:00

I've been kinda busy/lazy of late but here's a few Pro Football Talk rumors that have me salivating but are probably never gonna happen.

1) Pac Man Jones- The subject of many a joke, Tennessee Corner Back Adam Pacman Jones (Pacman because he gobbles up balls, I guess) sat out the 2007 season for off the field issues involving strippers, a paralyzed bouncer, and Nelly. He was scheduled at one point to make an appearence as a professional wrestler, but the Titans decided that would be breach of contract. Although a bulk of the rumors have him going to the Cowboys, Pacman is an elite corner, of which the Saints are in dire need. He also proved himself as an elite kick returner, which Reggie Bush has not. As far as I can tell his only downside is that he's young, rich and loves strippers, which when you think about it, makes him a pretty likable guy. Getting Pacman for a conditional second round draft pick would be a steal.

2) Jeremy Shockey- Former UMiami standout TE and current broken legged Giant Jeremy Shockey is supposedly on the market, and is one of the top ten athletes in the league at his position. For those not familiar with the way the end of last season played out, you may be interested to know why the Giants would be so interested in getting rid of such a player. The answer is, as soon as Shockey broke his leg the team started playing better and went on to win the Super Bowl. Shockey is a brat who whines if he doesn't get his looks, and has a tendency to cause unrest amongst the troops. Supposedly, the Giants want too much in return for Shockey which doesn't seem hard to me because I wouldn't trade my third string left tackle for him.

Overheard Quote of the Century

2008-03-12T00:46:00.003-05:00

"Am I old or something? Isn't it... taboo/or whatever to wear the shirt of the band who's show you're at? Have these... children ever seen PCU?

diePhone and the Fuzz

2008-03-11T18:23:00.000-05:00

As much as it pains me to say it, the iPhone sucks. I was an early iPhone adopter, with an excuse. At the time the iPhone came out I was living with a Cell Phone and an MP3 player that had broken screens, but I had been using them both for long enough when their screens broke, that they were still fairly useful (assuming the person I was sending a text message to knew that I had no screen and therefore was relying solely on T9 to get the right word.) My other excuse was that the day the iPhone went on sale, I was 8 days deep into a construction support stint in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico with no better way to pass the down time than watching bootleg movies and reading blogs and waiting for the iPhone sales countdown timer, and nothing to spend money on except poker losses. A few weeks later when it arrived, I stayed up all night playing with it, and had to take the next morning off.

The first thing that went wrong with the iPhone started happening after I’d had it about a month. While browsing the internet or whatever, it would just boot you back to the home screen, but that seemed to stop after the first firmware update. Also for some reason they messed up the headphone jack so sometimes when you pulled the headphone plug out, it wouldn’t realize and the regular phone speaker would appear to be dead when in call mode. Then after a few more months it would occasionally lock up and it would need to be rebooted. This was when my enthusiasm for the iPhone started to wane. Crashing is a perfectly acceptable and normal phenomenon for any computer, but when you take your phone out of your pocket and are in dire need of making a call, your phone needs to make the call and having to restart your phone is simply unacceptable. Apple then updated the firmware again which not only seemed to solve that problem (except in one bar where it would always crash.) They also added a few new features which in retrospect should have been there from the get go (multiple recipient text messages? That’s fucking genius! Being able to move the buttons on the home screen? Take that Blackberry!) I thought that the new updates were cool for about a week or so until I noticed that there was about a half inch strip at the top of the screen that no longer responded to touch. Now, to be fair, I must say that the deadening of the screen happened somewhere in the two weeks before Mardi Gras, and it’s a chore to keep your phone for those two weeks to say nothing of keeping it out of harms way. Regardless, I was able to go online and find others who reported not only the same problem but even the same area of the touch screen.

At this point I called customer service and they were very helpful and sent me a box to return the phone in so they could check it out. They returned it unfixed because of a faint dimple where the case I use has a metal snap. I pleaded my case to customer service stating that the dent was the result of normal use and not a drop nor had the phone been misused, and was told to take pictures of the case and phone and they’d think about it. I put off doing so because I’m kind of a lazy person and I had figured out how to squeeze the most out of the phone without that top say 25% of the screen.

Yesterday I woke up and attempted to make a call only to find that where the phone normally says how many service bars it was registering none. Worried that I may have forgotten to pay my cell phone bill, I popped out the SIM card and put it into my old phone (the one with the broken screen that my iPhone-spoiled fingers can no longer type blind text messages on) which worked fine allowing to make calls from the very same location that the iPhone reported no service.

I promptly took the pictures that the customer service guy requested and am currently getting all the venom out so I can send them to him with an accompanying email that is as polite as possible.

In an unrelated story, I locked myself out of my apartment the other day and had to break in by busting a window and unlocking it, then crawling through. At some point in the process, unfortunately, someone called the cops on me. Maybe it was the guy who walked by me, to whom I commented: “You know, it turns out these apartments are wicked hard to break into.” Or, maybe it was someone else. Anyways, the cops rolled up three deep as I was sweeping up the broken glass, and asked only to briefly see my ID. I’m almost positive that if I had been doing anything other than sweeping glass when they showed up they would have run my ID through the computer, the results of which would be interesting to me and possibly them. Yesterday I saw a black seventeen year-old who got sent through the computer and then (illegally) searched for no reason in the middle of Canal St. In a few months he's naming his first daughter Justice. I hope he keeps his optimism almost as much as I hope Justice lives in a better world than he does, but I doubt both very much.

2008-03-05T19:31:00.003-06:00

Saints Update

2008-03-03T06:40:00.000-06:00

So over the weekend the Vilma trade was finalized for a conditional 3rd/4th rounder in '09. Conditional meaning that if he reaches certain (undisclosed) performance benchmarks, the Jets get the 3rd round pick but if he doesn't they get the 4th.

Also signed was Patriot's corner ~~Asante Samuel~~ Randall Gay. Any day now NFL.com will take "Gay" off the list of things you aren't allowed to get on the back of a customized Saints jersey. Saint's GM Mickey Loomis: "Randall is a player we targeted early on in this free-agent market, and we're extremely pleased to have him on board." Which I'm pretty sure is exactly the same as what he said about Jason David this time a year ago.

The Saint's re-signed Aaron Stecker, who will back up the dynamic but injury prone duo of Deuce McAllister and Reggie Bush. This is a good move, as most teams would be lucky to have Stecker as a 2nd string HB. Add in sophomore Pierre Thomas and stud fullback Mike Karney and you have a backfield capable of 2000/1000 yards rushing/recieving.

Another big time signing is Bobby McCray now formerly a Jaguar. McCray is one of what I like to call "Florida Freaks." Florida Freaks go to different ACC and SEC schools in Florida and elsewhere, sometimes you see them on Big 12 or Pac 10 teams, but they're generally around 6'-6" and 260lbs and can do standing backflips. Jevon Kearse is the prototype Florida Freak, at 6'-4" 265lbs, the story goes he went in to Titans training camp and they wanted to test his vertical leap, they told him to jump up and reach as high as he could on the measuring stick, and he replied "You sure?" Kearse then put his hand through the ceiling.

Saints News

2008-02-29T09:20:00.004-06:00

John Clayton at ESPN's reporting that the Saints are in the final negotiations for a trade that will bring John Vilma to New Orleans. John Vilma is 25 years old, won the Defensive Rookie of the Year Award in '04 and is one of maybe five elite middle linebackers born in the 1980's, that is to say, way better than Mark Simoneaux.

Profootballtalk.com, a notoriously inaccurate rumor mill also suggested that the Saints were on the top of the list to get Asante Samuel's services at corner. Asante Samuel is one of only two people ever to return two pick-sixes in a given year's palyoffs. This morning's reports however say Asante's first stop will be Philly, who are rumored to be trading their shutdown corner, Lito Sheppard.

I on the other hand am hoping the Saints take a chance on Pacman Jones, who before he got suspended for an entire year for an incident involving strippers, money-rain, a now paralyzed bouncer, and Nelly, was widely considered the best young corner (and return man) in the game. Some people might say that New Orleans would be a bad environment for Pacman, whereas I say he'd fit right in.

As happy as I am to hear that the Saints could get Vilma, their most pressing issue is obviously the dust-eating, consistently burnt Jason David. I'm pretty sure I could beat Jason David deep and I haven't ran since that time the cops saw me getting a blowjob from Jason David.

xkcd.com

2008-02-29T08:50:00.004-06:00

CP3

2008-02-27T22:14:00.004-06:00

This fellow is Chris Paul, aka CP3:

CP3 put up 25pts and dished 15 assists(!) in tonight's Hornets win over the Suns of Phoenix 120-103.

Someone suggested to me today that CP3 was a homosexual (not that there's anyhting wrong with that.) This picture neither supports nor does it detract from that theory.

Chris Paul can have sex with whoever he wants, and I'll keep saying CP3 for MVP.

Are you ready for Da Carter III?

2008-02-26T20:07:00.004-06:00

Because I sure am.

Say Hello to the Right Arm of the Free World

2008-02-21T16:46:00.005-06:00

From Wikipedia:

The Fusil Automatique Léger (Light Automatic Rifle) or FAL is a 7.62x51 NATO self-loading, selective fire rifle produced by the Belgian armaments manufacturer Fabrique Nationale de Herstal (FN) during the Cold War, and adopted by many North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) countries. It has also been adopted by many other nations for their armies as well as being a popular civilian rifle. The FN FAL was also produced under license in many of the adopting countries. Also because of its prevalence and widespread use among the armed forces of many Western and other non-Communist countries during the Cold War, it was nicknamed "the right arm of the Free World".

I mean, Hidalgo?

2008-02-20T21:34:00.003-06:00

So, I'm not sure who died and made Viggo Mortensen the go-to bad ass, but when Cronenberg shows me someone's penis, I usually investigate. Cronenberg was of course the director who brought us the first Crash, that is to say the one where they get turned on by car wrecks, not the one where Thandie Newton gets in a car wreck only to be saved by the same cop who had molseted her while, at the same time, her husband is saving Ludacris from a life of crime. I don't recall if we get shown David Spader's penis in that movie, but if you can find someone who would describe David Spader as a bad ass, I'll show you someone who LOVES quiche. Cronenberg's two most recent films are of course, A History of Violence, which of course was sweet, and Eastern Promises which I just finished watching (on a now defunct technological format I might add, there are people who still rent VHS tapes and my HD DVD player is gone the way of Beta? Fuck That. Actually I'm ok with it I was planning on buying a PS3 anyway, and I just got like 10 HD DVDs for like $10 a piece so I guess I'm not really complaining.)

The oldest movie I can remember seeing Viggo in was Carlito's Way, where he turns in a small but convincing roll as a wellchair-bound convict out of jail to get dirt on Carlito. Then of course is his his role as WEAPS, the unsung hero of Crimson Tide, which come to think of it, is in a lot of ways, Enemy of the State but in a submarine (both are Tony Scott's and star Gene Hackman opposite a big budget black actor, other than that it's just a joke.) Then, a few projects later he was in G.I. Jane where I think he was the bad guy, but I couldn't say for sure, I only saw it once and I'm assuming because I don't think there were really any good guys; whatever.

From SEAL to Ranger (you like that?) Mortensen's next big role was Aragorn in the Lord of the Rings. Unrelatedly, the Tolkein family is still waiting for their roalty checks, true story. Peter Jackson just got paid for that shit like yesterday.

I guess, doing the Rings caught the attention of Cronenberg because I highly doubt he saw Hidalgo and was like: "Yes! This is exaclty who I'm looking for to realize the Bad Assness missing from these two awesome projects I'm developing."

Setting the Record Straight

2008-02-18T21:35:00.000-06:00

Some people out there may be wondering if I did a jaegerbomb with Dirk Nowitzki. Other people are questioning whether I even saw Dirk Nowitzki. What follows is the truth in as much detail as I can remember.

Typically when I get out of work on Friday, all I want to do is party. This past Friday I had big dreams of going down to the casino and playing poker on Friday, and hopefully, finding some schmuck in town for the NBA All Star weekend who wanted to give me all his money. Instead however, I received nothing but massive threats as to how long it would take me to get downtown, so I went to Cooter Brown’s to see one of my favorite bartenders, Laurie. Laurie was her usual self, effervescent, effusive, and making drinks that were strong enough to peel paint that still tasted delicious. After one double cocktail I was no longer good at pool, after two I was no longer good at standing. Laurie’s shift ended and she came and shot the shit with us and we had some dinner and a few more (considerably less strong) drinks.

After we had enough of Kevin Durant’s shoes on the big HDs we rolled to my buddy’s house and he showed us his haunted attic. We then went to one of the swankier uptown bars and drank expensive Irish whiskey until after the jazz band stopped playing and it became clear that the waitress I had a crush on wanted nothing to do with me.

We rolled out and met up with some friends at the Kingpin. Now, for those of you who have never been to the Kingpin allow me to describe it for you. The Kingpin is a little dive bar hidden away uptown and not really near any sort of legit streets. It’s the kind of place where a member of the biggest pop band from New Orleans (Better than Ezra) sits next to the biggest drunk in NOLA (yours truly) but is left alone because I’m talking to my friends who are: 2 law students, 1 med student, an English professor and her Architect boyfriend. They also have shuffle board and Ms. Pacman, both of which are more fun than cracking “it’s been good _(verb)_ing with you uh-huh” jokes.

After a while, my ride home was leaving but I was having a little trouble finding my hat. I did a circle of the bar trying to find my hat. I had just given up when who do I see has taken a seat at the end of the bar but Dirk Nowitzki, the reigning NBA MVP. Now, it’s not easy to lose a hat in a bar the size of a Quizno's (it is however impossible to miss a seven-footer) so I’m not 100% sure that this is the way it went down, but I’m pretty sure it went something like this:

Crazy Drunk American: Oh hey Dirk, do you have my hat?

Seven Foot Tall German: Huh?

Crazy Drunk American: (laughing) Nothing man, enjoy yourself. (Walks out the door)

I then called half a dozen people and told them that I’d just done a Jaegerbomb with Dirk Nowitzki.

Hooray!!!

2008-02-18T21:34:00.002-06:00

Because this is my blog's 100th post I'm going to make it an extra special one:

Actually, I was going to post this anyway I just noticed that it was #100 when I logged in. I've been watching this on repeat for about 5 minutes.

The One Guy I was Looking for Seems to be Something of a Mystery

2008-02-14T21:14:00.004-06:00

So the one person I was most interested in wisearchingki is a complete e-ghost:
Ode to McDonogh
By Myrrah Font (December 29, 1898)
Edited by G. Leighton Ciravolo (May 5, 2000)
I.
O wake the trumpet of renown
Far-echoing a hero's name;
O bring the shining laurel crown
That marks the glow of honored fame.
McDonogh, let the trumpet sound,
And with the laurels twine his brow;
Extol him with your voices now;
Praise to him, all praise to him!
II.
He sought not paths where glory shone,
Nor dreamed of fame in southern lore;
Twin cities claim him for their own -
Our Gretna and fair Baltimore.
He gave his wealth to educate;
He lived that end to consummate;
His mem'ry shall perpetuate;
Praise to him, all praise to him!
III.
McDonogh, unto thee we rear
A monument of fairest art,
In mem'ry of thy high career
Enshrined within each grateful heart.
Now ready hands your offerings bring;
Now youthful tongues laudations sing;
Now the heavens with echoes ring
Praise to him, all praise to him!

Apparently, John McDonogh was some rich dude who's only claim to fame was donating a crap load of money and land to build public schools in New Orleans and Baltimore. I do not know where the money came from, but he had tons of it.

Oh and in case you were wondering why I was so interested in this McDonogh fellow, its because McDonogh #35 and John McDonogh High School have two of the best marching bands, although the St Aug's kids probably marched by me at least 8 times over the course of the Mardi Gras season.

Wikipedia is the best

2008-02-13T20:35:00.003-06:00

I started out reading an article about how Chavez isn't going to sell any oil to Exxon because he (Venezuela) owes them (Exxon) $12bil. Anyways, it appears that the Chalmette refinery is exempt from this embargo because it is co-owned by Exxon and, that's right, the Venezuelan national oil company (PDVSA.) Anyway in the process of (more like after giving up on) trying to find out what percentage Exxon and PDVSA owned, I started reading Wikipedia's offerings regarding our fair city, and that is why I give you:

Notable New Orleanians (myself excluded, and in no particular order, natch):
A. Baldwin Wood - Tulane Engineering grad., invented the pumps that keep our bowl ~~dry~~ from filling.
William Seeman - sailboats something something seamen joke
Emille Lamm - May have invented the "grille"
Andrew Higgins - Invented D-Day beach boat. Ingenious because if someone's shooting at you when the door drops, you HAVE to get out of the boat.
Josef Lascaux - Invented Cotton Candy
James Longstreet - Robert E. Lee's "Go-to" general, told Lee at Gettysburg that Pickett's charge would be unsuccessful, seeking a pardon after the war, Prez. Jackson replied: "There are three persons of the South who can never receive amnesty: Mr. Davis, General Lee, and yourself."
P.G.T. Beauregard - Robert E. Lee's #4-5 General, defeated Union at 1st Battle of Bull Run, got ass handed to him by W.T. Sherman, invented the cable powered part of our streetcar. Memorialized on a horse in Beauregard circle, where Esplanade hits City Park.
Carl Weathers - St. Augs grad, Apollo Creed, also Chubbs in Happy Gilmore
Reese Witherspoon - Sings better the Joaquin
Richard Simmons- "Entertainer" (I refuse to click on his link)
Cheryl Holdridge - Original Mouseketeer
Ellen Degeneres - Born in Metairie, brother is in Cowboy Mouth, has a hotter girlfriend than most guys
John Goodman - Was slated to play Ignatius J. Riley in a scrapped feature film.
Patricia Clarkson - If you havn't heard of Ashecliffe yet, don't worry, you will.
Lee Harvey Oswald - According to a 2003 survey, 7% of Americans polled thought LHO had 0% to do with the assassination of JFK.
Carlos Marcell0 - Sicilian, "Godfather of New Orleans," likely the one who set up LHO and had JFK offed after RFK had had him deported to Guatemala, his fake place of birth, known associate of Jack Ruby
Jules Alciatore - Chef of Antoine's, invented oysters Rockefeller (aka my hero)
Owen Brennan - Founder of Bacchus
Al Copeland - Founder of Popeye's Chicken and Biscuits
Emeril Legasse - Born in Fall River Mass.
John Besh - Born in Meridian Miss.
Paul Prudhomme - Born in Opelousas LA.
Truman Capote- wrote Breakfast at Tiffany's, in Neil Simon's Murder by Death (which is a must see) his character had ten fingers but no pinkies
Elmore Leonard - Out of Sight, Get Shorty, Big Bounce, 3:10 to Yuma
Anne Rice - has also published adult-oriented fiction under the pen name Anne Rampling, and has written explicit sado-masochistic erotica as A.N. Roquelaure
John Kennedy Toole - Tulane grad., killed himself in 1969, received Pulitzer in 1981, posthumously
~~Tennessee Williams - Born: Thomas Lanier Williams III in Columbus Miss.~~
Louis Armstrong - Satchmo, pretty much invented Jazz as we know it
Phil Anselmo - Pantera frontman
Sidney Bechet - first saxophonist to improvise, apparently beat Armstrong to the studio by several months, so I guess he invented Jazz as we know it
Birdman AKA Baby- fly in any weather
Terence Blanchard - Jazz Messenger
James Booker - Recorded with/for Fats Domino, B.B. King, Little Richard, Wilson Picket, Aretha Franklin, Jerry Garcia, John Mayall, taught Harry Connick Jr.
Harry Connick Jr - Narrated 2000's My Dog Skip, did that commercial where he drops off the crawfish, Did the entire double platinum soundtrack for When Harry Met Sally
Fats Domino - Cosistent chart topper from 1955-1963 when the british invasion invaded, 25th on Rolling Stone's 100 greatest list, after someone spray painted RIP Fats You Will Be Missed on his house in the Katrina aftermath, he and his family stayed in Baton Rouge with future #1 overall draft pick and Fats's granddaughter's boyfriend JaMarcus Russel
Lee Dorsey - as in everything I do is funky like____, recorded with Allain Tousaint
Dr. John - Jesuit alum, recorded with the Rolling Stones, Carly Simon, James Taylor, and Van Morrison, sings the Popeye's jingle and the theme songs fot the TV shows Blossom and K-Ville.
Master P, Juvenille, B.G. - There's like fifty more
Lil' Wayne - swagger right, check. Game tight. And you gon' R E S P E C T me.
Professor Longhair - widely acknowledged as having invented funk
The Marsalis Family - It says Branford was born in Breaux Bridge but the rest say NOLA. I remember watching some movie with Wynton in elementary school.
Irvin Mayfield - Los Hombres Calientes
The Meters - Art, Aaron, and Cyril Neville, Leo Nocentelli, George Porter Jr., Zigaboo Modeliste, were Allain Toussaint's house band, opened for the Rolling Stones for their 1975 tour of America, last played with all original members at Voodoo fest in 2006, after which Aaron, Leo, and Porter joined the Red Hot Chili Peppers on their stage for an encore that can only be described as EPIC!
Wardell Quezergue - pronounced quezergue, wrote Mr. Big Stuff and Groove Me
Jelly Roll Morton - first jazz composer
The Neville Brothers - mysteriously appeared right when the Meters broke up
Earl Palmer - Fats Domino's drummer, pioneered modern rock drumming
Louis Prima - Just a Gigilo
Allain Toussaint - Producer and songwriter has worked with or written songs performed by: Irma Thomas, Art and Aaron Neville, Lee Dorsey, Otis Redding,The Who,Robert Plant & Allison Krauss, The Meters, Dr John, Wild Tchoupitoulas Mardi Gras Indians, Robert Palmer, Mylon LeFevre, The Band, Boz Scaggs, Patti Labelle (wrote Lady Marmalade), Elvis Costello
Better Than Ezra - it's been good, writing for you uh-huh
Zebra - Who's behind the door = awesome
Clyde ~~Austin~~ "The Glide" Drexler - 1/3 of Phi Slamma Jamma at U. of Houston, 10 time all star
Marshall Faulk - Only NFL-er with 100+ rushing TD's and 30+ recieving (a club that won't take LT too much longer to join) 1994 Off. Rookie of the Year
Michael "Beer Man" Lewis - Set NFL record for total return yards in a season, shook my hand at the Arena Bowl last summer, has huge watch
~~Archie Manning - Born in Drew Miss. career passer rating 67.1, 125/175 TD/INT~~
Elisha Manning - #1 Overall draft pick, after huge upset victory in superbowl XLII was quoted as saying "golly, I need a juice box" and "now Nintendo season starts," all jokes aside: "Eli's hobbies include antiquing in the off-season with his mother and fiancée." reference: NYTimes
Peyton Manning - (This is the only time I'm using a reference other than wikipedia for this post, but this is from ESPN's TMQ) After four seasons, Eli Manning is 36-28 as a starter and has a Super Bowl ring; after four seasons, Peyton Manning was 32-32 as a starter and lacked a playoff victory.
Tory James - Had eight picks for the Bengals in 2004, the only year in recent memory that the Bengals even played defense
Kordell Stewart - Born in Marrero, inspiriation for my theory regarding the statistically higher coincidence of homosexuality on the west bank.
Reggie Wayne - Ehret alum (ibid)
Aeneas Williams - was accepted to Dartmouth, instead went to SUNO, didn't play Football until his senior year, tied I-AA record for interceptions, had two picks in Arizona Cardinals only playoff win ever, delivered hit that ended Steve Young's career

all facts are either jokes or are paraphrased/copied outright from the annals of the venerable all knowing Wikipedia

It's my blog and I can post what I want to...

2008-02-13T11:11:00.003-06:00

You'd do this too if you loved ~~amostporn~~ swimsuits as much as I do.

Allow me to introduce Bar Refaeli, who it turns out is dating Leo DiCaprio... shit. Whatever man, it could be worse, Marissa Miller is married to this abomination.
And this little darling is Irina Sheik, a 22 year old sophmore from Russia:

I know what you're thinking and the answer is:

2008-02-13T10:42:00.001-06:00

Yes, that is painted on.

Its not plagarism if I tell you I didn't write it.

2008-02-13T08:34:00.004-06:00

This is a facebook post that a friend of mine wrote, she's way more serious than I oculd ever be, so I thought I'd share:

thoughts from the Mardi Gras visit

watching the snow fall from the sky, blanketing the earth, muffling my world (it needs to be quieted sometimes). how cold and dark it has become, but i remember this from when i was a kid, and i know that come spring, everyone will be reborn and the greyness of winter will feel like nothing more than a bad dream. it does make me more contemplative however, especially after being in the troubled warmth of the south. and yes, i've been dreaming of Mardi Gras and that feeling it fills me with (i think they call it "temporary insanity"), but more than that, i've been dreaming of them. my heart aches (it's a good hurt) when i remember all the times we've had: random thursday, poker night, trips to the bay house, the fly, sunday football, 50 bars in 30 days, cinco de mayo, crawfishing, White Colla Crimes, human bowling, Ms. Mae's, Balcony bar, kickball, date night wendesday, all the birthdays, and the many other good times. i dream of that utopian time after the storm that lay a blanket of hope over all of us; that perfectly chaotic time where nothing but the moment mattered, and we celebrated that we were alive, together, and that our city would not go down without a fight. for those of you who weren't there, there are not enough words in my vocabulary to fully explain that feeling of triumphant unity, that sense of oneness, that was felt throughout the people of New Orleans. we had survived. and we were ready to party like we had been reborn.

alas, reality has set in and the times, they've changed and are a changin' still. the city is still struggling, opportunities are scarce (unless you're in the superhero business, but that takes a different toll that many are not willing to pay), and we've grown restless. that blanket of hope is tattered and worn, full of holes and frayed at the edges (although some of us still wrap it around ourselves). tensions are high and the drama of life lived in a disaster zone will eat away at anyone, given enough time. for the record, out of all of the drama i could have to deal with, i'll pick the drama of New Orleans any day. i chose to leave, and it was the right choice for me at the time, but Mardi Gras (my first return home since i left) made me more convinced than ever that i will return, and the next time around i will be more prepared and able to help those who truly need it. i still have an eternally optimistic hope for the future of the city, and faith in the goodness of people. the times have changed and will never be the same, but in happening they've given me a chance to grow up. i know what i want and i'm willing to put in the time and the work to see if i can make it happen. without the disaster, without the friends during the recovery, i'd probably be living in California, studying to be a marriage counselor. food for thought. keep the faith party people. salud.

D, if you want me to take this down I will.

I promised a post on cartoons...

2008-02-12T19:22:00.000-06:00

and I'll write it later but for now, enjoy these classics. I quote all of these and a few others on a pretty regular basis, and usually end up getting stared at. I simply do not understand how it is possible to have grown up post-1950 and not seen these cartoons millions of times.

That was one god damn hell of a show

2008-02-09T09:39:00.000-06:00

So, as predicted I saw a movie that is going to bump into my top 30 movies list. Last night some friends and I, all still recovering from Mardi Gras, went and saw There Will Be Blood. If you haven't seen it yet, I won't spoil it for you except to say that it keeps it's promise, but it's not a particularly violent movie.

And p.s. I also saw 3:10 to Yuma, which is not going to make the list.

in case anyone was wondering...

2008-02-09T00:38:00.000-06:00

I managed to piece together that missing Friday night from that previous story. After the parades and a few dead baby jokes, we went to Ms Mae's where I smoothed things over with the management. I then escorted a new friend from the weekend before home who was super drunk but mercifully lived nearby. Upon returning to Maes, I didn't see anyone I knew so I went up to Le Bon Temps and listened to music with some folks I only kind of know until like four in the morning.

Holey Moley

2008-02-06T18:47:00.000-06:00

Another Mardi Gras has come and gone, as my boss put it I am no worse for the wear, except for the fact that I put like 30 miles on my legs and 5 years off my liver. Traditionally my response to “How was Mardi Gras” is “No Comment,” but for the sake of those readers unfortunate enough to have missed it (and posterity) I will recount the experience briefly.

Wednesday was a warm up, with two parades, venison sausage, some Jack and waters, and everyone in bed by 11.

Thursday’s parades were cancelled due to a supposed hellacious rainstorm (someone said it rained 3 inches in 20 minutes but I’m skeptical) that was brief but ominous enough to reschedule 2 parades and cancel Thursday’s third. I watched 30 Rock reruns until after the strom had passed, then went to Balcony Bar and met up with some folks I’d met in Chicago after the Saints game right before New Years. I convinced one of them to come with me to the Howlin’ Wolf, to meet up with a gaggle of Tulane sorority girls who suspiciously disappeared right after I started dancing. Having lost all my friends, I did what any rational person does in that situation and went to Ms Mae’s where I serendipitously ran into one of my favorite barflys, someone who’s been called in publications far more prestigious than this one: a “notable New Oreleans Socialite,” or something similar. We partied there until it got late and the staff decided I’d had too much to drink and was singing along too loudly to the jukebox. Obviously they didn’t know me well enough to know that I do that when I’m stone cold sober.

Friday was a glorious sunshiney day, that I'd already taken off, so I sat on my porch and got ready for the big game. Friday there were 4 parades, and they kept breaking down and it was probably 1am or later before the final float had passed. I’m having a little trouble piecing together what happened after the parades were over, but I know that I got ditched by my friends again and I ended the night around 4am when the band playing at Le Bon Temps finally finished up.

Saturday was Endymion, oh Endymion. Saturday was a shitshow that turned into an even bigger shitshow once the clock struck midnight and my buddy turned 24 (he took a lot of shit for being 17 when he got to college.) At some point, we got ditched, and after we had both gotten kicked out of Mae’s went to Le Bon Temps to play some terrible pool. I later found out that I had left my credit card there.

Sunday was quite a day, parades in the afternoon, superbowl, “superkrewe” Bacchus parade at night. After the afternoon parades, we (I’m too Sexy for this Porch) managed to stir up a batch of rock and roll on my buddies’ porch. At some point we were joined by a professional musician who happens to be one of my band mate’s ESL students who we happened to see play with Russel Batiste a few weeks ago, after Krewe de Vieux. With him in the band, the show went from being drunken fun to an awesome Rock! show pretty quickly. We ended up as the superbowl was starting, which finished up in time for the last 10 or so floats in Bacchus, after which it was time to go home. Basically, the wave of adrenaline I was riding crashed after the I’m too Sexy for this Porch show, and then came back a little, and then crashed even lower after Eli and Tyree’s little wunderplay.

Monday I woke up around noon and went scavenger hunting for my credit card which mercifully was at Le Bon Temps. I then sagely went back home and took a nap until about five. Monday --> Tuesday is the big finish, and you need to have as much strength as you can muster to make it all the way through Zulu and Rex. I spent most of the Monday night parades sitting on my buddies’ porch nursing jack and waters, touching my toes and twisting side to side at the waist and rolling my neck around and otherwise preparing for game 7. After everyone had cleared out, a friend and I set out to walk to Tipitina’s, making a pit stop on the way for drinks and to see my bartender friends at the Columns.

Somewhere around this time midnight and I chest bumped, and it officially became Mardi Gras (day.) Galactic played until sunrise, with some guest appearances by Chali 2na of Jurrasic 5, and the New Orleans Klezmer Allstars, and some guest masked mystery guitar player who screwed up the words to Junco Partner. When the show had finished, which luckily was right before I ran out of awesome dance moves, Sav-A-Center, who shares its parking lot with Tips, mercifully opened, and I bought a 12pack of redbull and a bottle of vodka which I carried with me all the way to Zulu. Along the way I met some kindered spirits (lucky pun) who were making mimosas in the Sav-A-Center parking lot and we waddled towards Zulu until I got spotted by these two girls I had met all the way back on Thursday (how they recognized me in passing, I will never know) and whose charity I had promised a foosball table to, and had spent the night in a tent in the middle of St Charles Ave. When I finally got to my buddies’ house I got the bottle of absinthe I had stashed there to motivate myself to make it to Zulu, which is always a challenge, and twisted up a revolting Redbull-Vodka-Absinthe, which promptly got named “Licorice and Gasoline.” There wasn’t too much more debauchery, and I was in bed by 3pm, all the better to make it to work this morning, no worse for the wear (ugh.)

I think I touched on this briefly last night but...

2008-02-02T06:49:00.000-06:00

OMG!!!!!!!!

O. M. G!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Mardi Fucking Gras.

I've seen people tongiht that I haven't seen in years and even when the going got rough (read: when all of my friends had called it quits so I was rolling dolo for the second night in a row...) the Mardi Gras got going. Besides Jordan, nobody can hang with me?!?!

Enjoy daybreak, it loves you as much as I do.

As long as I'm bitching

2008-02-01T05:49:00.000-06:00

From The Usual Suspects:
"The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world that he doesn't exist."

From my Dad:
"The greatest trick W. ever pulled was onvincing Americans that gas for under $3 a gallon was cheap."

I can't BELIEVE they're still dying.

Third Beef

2008-02-01T05:31:00.000-06:00

Fucking Temperature swings, giving me strep and shit.

Ich bin ein Berliner

2008-02-01T04:38:00.000-06:00

I have two gripes this evening (notice I used the right 2 so I'm obviosly not that bad off.) The first is with my so called "friends" who as soon as a few parades get cancelled decide that tommorow is just another work day... losers... who works on Fridays anyway? And the second is with the new Doorman at Ms. Mae's. A) Who the fuck do you think you are standing on that fucking stool showing off your trite tatoos? Lame! And B) for the record, I've been kicked out of Mae's more times than I can count, but tonight for the very first time, I got kicked out when I was still capable of counting. Seriously, homeboy needs to recognize that being a doorman at Mae's is half a step higher than being a fucking janitor. Douchebag. On my way out, without even a little comotion, I asked; Was it something I did? You're just a little too loud he says. Oh I'm sorry, cocktaster, was I singing the songs that I paid for on the jukebox with the vigor they diserve? Fucking Rear Admiral. You got to be fucking kidding me. See you tomorrow he says; I say (in my head) my asshole looks like this: * and I'm pretty sure you'd love to lick it.

Other than that it was a real good night, Balcony Bar, Rebirth at Howlin Wolf, good friends at Mae's, untill the douchesquad decided that I was monopolizing all the females in the bar with my REO Speedwagon renditions and needed to be tought a lesson. Are you fucking kidding me?Fucking toolbox.

THX Lemur

2008-01-30T13:26:00.001-06:00

glumbert - THX for the Eyes

Mardi Gras?

2008-01-29T16:10:00.000-06:00

More like Party Gras.

I know I’m jumping the gun a little bit, but really, with Mardi Gras day itself a week away, and lots of lascivious behavior scheduled between now and then, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was my last coherent post for a week, or two.

Mardi Gras starts, in my own humble opinion, two week and three days before fat Tuesday with the first legit parade: Krewe de Vieux. Krewe de Vieux is the raunchiest of the parades, with most of its floats being sex-or-other-bodily-function-themed. Anywyas, that was the weekend before this past, and after the parade we went to my new favorite music club and I sang part of The Meters’ Mardi Gras Anthem “Hey Pocky Way” with some professional musicians. I had a boa, I was drunk, I nailed the chorus, it was awesome.

This past weekend was full of tomfoolery and shenanigans; I told no less than three different strangers that I tasted delicious. We saw several parades, none of which can hold a candle to those upcoming, but who doesn’t love a parade, even if it is a small one? I didn’t make it downtown for Barkus, the doggie parade, but from all reports it was a banner year.

Tonight is an off night, but there will be parades and debauchery from tomorrow on until fat Tuesday after which I swear off Mardi Gras for at least forty days.

With the Mardi Gras Season in Full Effect....

2008-01-25T14:34:00.001-06:00

Let's talk about Jazz Fest!

Let's just start by saying that the first weekend of last years Jazz Fest was the worst weekend of my 24.6 years, and then leave it at that. Putting that behind us, the line-up for this year was announced yesterday morning and with addition of a bunch of Indians and Jazz Bands I've never heard of, here (with notes!) are this years headliners:

Friday, April 25
Buckwheat Zydeco, Sheryl Crow (Did I just make this up or did I read that Lance Armstrong is dating one of the Olsen twins), Robert Plant and Alison Krauss (I wrote about their colabo here), Burning Spear, Ozomatli with Chali 2na (I'm so old school I know all the songs Ozomatli did with Chali 2na, too bad their going to play all their new shitty radio songs), Tab Benoit, Anders Osborne (not related to Ozzy, once told me he liked my hat), Big Sam’s Funky Nation (Big Sam is a house, but his Funky Nation changes from year to year), Leo Nocentelli’s “Rare Gathering” feat. Bernie Worrell, Ellis Marsalis, The Iguanas (I'm pretty sure they recorded that Gin & Juice cover that everyone thought was Phish or STI), Twangorama, Zydepunks, Shamarr Allen, Otra (One of the most awesome Jazz bands you will never hear of.)

Saturday, April 26
Dr. John (Born: Malcolm John Rebennack Jr.), Billy Joel (Born: William Joel), Keyshia Cole (Brother Sean Cole was part of Tupac's Entourage), O.A.R. (I don't know about you, but I love it when white boys put reggae breaks in their alt-country songs), The Count Basie Orchestra feat. Patti Austin (?), Jon Cleary & the Absolute Monster Gentlemen (Great name), Walter “Wolfman” Washington & the Roadmasters, Harlem Blues and Jazz Band, Astral Project (Basically a bunch of music professors made a band, all of the members in Galactic were tought by a member of Astral Project), DJ Bomshell, Eddie Bo, Benjy Davis Project, Tricia "Teedy" Boutté & Ytre Suløens Jass-Ensemble of Norway, Berklee College of Music Jazz Ensemble.

Sunday, April 27
Irma Thomas (New Orleans' answer to Aretha Franklin), Tim McGraw (I hope Faith's in town), Al Green (!), Elvis Costello and Allen Toussaint (Allain Toussaint wrote, among many other things, Lady Marmalade), Del McCoury (Made his first appearance at the Grand Ole Opry in 1963), Hot 8 Brass Band, Big Chief Monk Boudreaux (Once hit me in the head with a tambourine) & the Golden Eagles, New Orleans Klezmer Allstars, Jo “Cool” Davis (Not noteworthy in anyway except to mention that he is gigantic douchebag.)

Thursday, May 1
Randy Newman (...takes a long hard look at Randy, fat man walkin over...), Widespread Panic (I haven't seen Widespread play since before Houser died), Tower of Power (If you've never heard "What is Hip" I strongly recommend it), Kermit Ruffins & the Barbecue Swingers (I mentioned them briefly in this historic post), Porter- Batiste-Stoltz (I Once sang Hey Pocky Way with Batiste), Johnny Sketch & the Dirty Notes, Fredy Omar con su Banda, Walter Payton(?!?) & Filé Gumbo, Hot Club of New Orleans, John Ellis feat. Jason Marsalis, New Orleans Rhythm Conspiracy (Great name), Billy Iuso & the Restless Natives (I once played keys with these guys, too bad I was too drunk to stand up), Small Souljas Brass Band (I'm not sure but I hope so hard that this is a group of thugged out kids who play like the Soul Rebels.)

Friday, May 2
Art Neville (Original Meter), Stevie Wonder (better than Ray), Michael Franti & Spearhead (How ya feelin??), Trombone Shorty & Orleans Ave., Marva Wright & the BMWs, Terence Blanchard & the Louisiana Philharmonic Orchestra, Papa Grows Funk, Sunpie’s Tribute to Clifton Chenier, Zigaboo Modeliste (Original Meter), Bonerama (If you've never heard Bonerama then I feel sorry for you), Soul Rebels (If you don't know, you betta ask sommebooooddddaaayyy), Ingrid Lucia, Coco Robicheaux & Spiritland, Theryl “Houseman” DeClouet (Used to sing with Galactic back when they were awesome), New Orleans Jazz Vipers feat. Sophie Lee, New Orleans School of Circus Arts (Awesome!!)

Saturday, May 3
Marcia Ball (Of Freda and the Firedogs), Jimmy Buffett (Yawn... /ducks), Diana Krall (Elvis Costello's Wife), Steel Pulse, The Roots (feat. ?estlove's Afro), Bobby McFerrin (Sorry wrong number) and Chick Corea (Miles Davis' piano player), Kenny Wayne Shepherd (Was named #3 blues guitar player in the world after B.B. King and Slow Hand... at AGE 17!!!, now married to Mel Gibson's daughter), Dirty Dozen Brass Band, Aaron Neville’s Gospel Soul, the subdudes, Irvin Mayfield & the New Orleans Jazz Orchestra, Charmaine Neville, Treme Brass Band (Mardi Gras favorite), Tribute to Max Roach (arguably the best drummer ever) feat. Herlin Riley, Jason Marsalis

Sunday, May 4
The Neville Brothers (appearently there are some other Neville Brothers who play soccer, one of whom is a captain for Manc.U., I only bring this up so that I can mention that their dad was a professional cricket player named, I shit you not: Neville Neville), Santana (I want a PRS guitar, with a dragon inlay... nice), The Raconteurs (Broken Boy Soldiers is a badass song, but Steady as She Goes is a terrible song, hmmm....), Galactic (Used to be awesome back when they had the Houseman), The Radiators, The Derek Trucks Band (I'd be as good as Derek Trucks too if my dad was in the Allman Brothers), Keb’ Mo’ (I can go both ways on Keb), Rebirth Brass Band, Sonny Landreth (Billed by Warren Haynes, who himself is no slouch, as the best slide guitar player ever), Snooks Eaglin, Ivan Neville’s Dumpstaphunk, Abigail Washburn & the Sparrow Quartet feat. Bela Fleck(!), Kenny Neal, Sherman Washington & the Zion Harmonizers, Rotary Downs, Grupo Fantasma, The Revealers

2008-01-25T13:09:00.000-06:00

Yet another sign that our economy is in dire straits.

Blogging vs. Mainstream Media vs. Dick Jokes

2008-01-24T16:44:00.000-06:00

Big Daddy Drew, the great ~~masturbater~~ moderator.

Nope I got it right

2008-01-22T18:03:00.000-06:00

Two Spike Lee Joints in the top six (3 in the top 30) and two Kubricks in the top eight? Fuck to the yeah.
Two movies that star Leo? I don't care.
Bet you didn't notice three Baldwins in the top ten.
In the top 30:
Denzel - Thrice
Val Kilmer - Thrice
Milla Jovovich - Thrice
Nicky Katt - Thrice
Ben Affleck - Thrice
Gary Oldman - Twice (I've heard Sid and Nancy is supposed to be really good, it's in my queue)
Rosario Dawson - Twice
Robin Williams - Twice (Both titles start with the word Good)
Leo Dicaprio - Twice
Pete Postlethwaite - Twice
Natalie Portman - Twice (both pre-Amidala)
Jamie Kennedy - Twice
Robert Deniro - Twice
Kevin Pollack - Twice
Matt Damon - Twice
(I really wanted to find someone who was in there more than Ben Affleck, but I couldn't)

Surprisingly lacking in Quentin Tarantino you say? That's because he does nothing but rip other people off, when he's not desparately trying to suck his own dick. And I think he might have written True Romance, and he directed part of Sin City, probably the part with Bruce Willis, because Tarantino can't find more than 10 actors he likes. The origins of O-Ren Ishii is badass, but that's a cartoon, and cartoons are going to get their own post.

Top 10 Movies of All Time

2008-01-21T18:58:00.000-06:00

I've talked about this a lot but here is a 1st whack at my top 10:
1. He Got Game
2. Dr. Strangelove Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb
3. The Usual Suspects
4. The Departed
5. Cool Hand Luke
6. 25th Hour
7. William Shakespeare's Romeo + Juliet (w. Leo and Claire)
8. Full Metal Jacket
9. School of Rock
10. Thank You For Smoking

Honorable Mentions (11-30):(alphabetically to keep from having to try to order them) Black Snake Moan, Blues Brothers, Boiler Room, Casino, Dazed and Confused, Fifth Element, Good Morning Vietnam, Good Will Hunting, Heat, Inside Man, Kung Fu Hustle, Laurel Canyon, The Matrix, One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, The Professional, Princess Bride, Remember the Titans, The Rock, The Science of Sleep, Tombstone, Top Gun

Honorable Mentions to the Honorable Mentions: Fargo, Lebowski, and No Country, Rushmore, Tannenbaums, and Life Aquatic, Crash, Lock Stock and Snatch, Clockwork Orange and Lolita, Anchorman, Ace Ventura, Super Troopers, Austin Powers, GoodFellas, Godfathers I & II, Carlito's Way, Spun, Trainspotting, Basketball Diaries, 12 Monkeys, 300 and Sin City, Airheads, Happy Gilmore, Empire Records, Face/Off, A Few Good Men, Mallrats, Mars Attacks, Miracle, Maverick, PCU, Party Girl, Payback, Pelican Brief, Ronin, Rounders, A Scanner Darkly, Bad News Bears, Scent of a Woman, The Score, The Shining, Silence of the Lambs, Slapshot, The Sting, Sneakers, The Three Musketeers (Sheen, Keifer, and Platt), Trading Places, True Romance, White Men Can't Jump, Wonderboys, Wild at Heart.

Movies I haven't Seen Yet that Have the Potential to Horn in: In the Valley of Elah, Eastern Promises, Be Kind Rewind, 3:10 to Yuma, Gone Baby Gone

Allegro's is on Deadspin

2008-01-18T12:28:00.000-06:00

From Deadspin.com

I spent the first 20 seconds of this video looking for myself in the background, and then the rest being glad I'm not.

Wings

2008-01-17T18:54:00.000-06:00

Although he’s surely tired of it, I’ve long been jealous of my brother who’s job has him often jetting off to exotic places like Flint Michigan and Norman Oklahoma, flashing his Amex Corporate and acquiring frequent flyer miles. Today, in fact moments ago, I returned from the Southeast’s premier corporate destination, Enron’s own, Houston Texas. Armstrong to Hobby is about an hour flight, not enough to read the whole Skymall, even both ways.

I flew with my Boss and another co-worker for a meeting where a few dicks got swung, but almost nothing got accomplished. At one point the, “tallest hog at the trough” to borrow from Good Morning Vietnam, told one of the contractors “We’ve got a (half-to-3/4-million-dollar-a-day) Derrick Barge coming in October, this isn’t a science project.”

What’s up with Southwest and their boarding system?

Oh, and bro, the Caliber is totally a pimpmobile.

2008-01-16T16:52:00.000-06:00

In case you didn't get to see any baseball stadiums get blown up today.

Japanese Gameshow Hularious Rock&Roll Funtime!!!

2008-01-16T09:37:00.000-06:00

Inland Empire

2008-01-10T21:12:00.000-06:00

So I just finished watching David Lynch's most recent film "Inland Empire" and let me just say two things: 1.) Laura Dern has still got it going on, how come she doesn't get more work? 2.) If I've ever experienced a weirder three hours in my entire life it was because of that one time I took a bunch of drugs and spent three hours in a closet convinced I was Vishnu, doing yoga. Keep in mind that that was like ten years ago, back when most white people thought a yogi was a bear (or Berra.)

Anyway, the film is like 15 minutes of insane utter nonsense, followed by 45 minutes of cohesive plot followed by two hours of insane utter nonsense. Nonsense is the wrong word though it's definitely insane utter... something... insane utter horror, insane utter terror, insane utter beauty mixed with flashes of ugliness, I don't know, it's a little corny to say but I'm going to go with Insane Utter Art.

I was once at an art museum with my father, and he comes up behind me as I'm staring at some post-modern spasm somewhere between Pollock, Basquiat (I only know artists with movies, just kidding it was covered with paint splashes and pretentious intentionally ridiculous text, like Who was GOD's attending obstetrician or zealous jealousy pleasant melody or whatever) and an eight year-old who's trying too hard to stay inside the lines. Dad says "You like this one?" I reply "No, but I can't stop looking at it." He goes "Art isn't supposed to make you feel good, it's just supposed to make you feel." Deep guy my dad, or maybe he was being funny.

Either way, I was reminded of that as I lay watching this movie, trying to decide whether or not to turn it off. I watched the whole disgusting 3 hours, and even after it's over it still makes no sense, but I'm going to watch it again before I return it.

Just 'cause

2008-01-10T09:21:00.001-06:00

I love this shit

2008-01-09T15:25:00.000-06:00

It's been a while

2008-01-08T19:10:00.000-06:00

When I went on vacation, I thought I’d have time to write on here, but I never really got around to it (except the Christmas eve post which has gotten rave reviews, especially from those involved.) I could’ve written about how excited my mom was to get Guitar Hero for Christmas, but I was too busy playing it with her. I could have written about going to a Saints game in Chicago, but my fingers were too numb to type. I could’ve written about New Years Eve and catching snow flakes on my tongue and washing them down with the cheapest champaign you can buy. Instead, I was busy living those moments with the vigor they deserved, and recovering as best I could from the longer nights. Now though, for your sake and for posterity, I will try to at least paint the broad strokes of the last two weeks. (Editor's Note: As it turns out, just the few days after Christmas provided me with enough to write about for over an hour, so I'm going to have to break this up. Enjoy!)

Christmas was great although, as I mentioned, the present opening ceremonies was a brief affair, with my parents reaping most of the booty (although, apropos of booty, I got a pair of boxers that say “toot, toot” on the back, which I am presently wearing. It’s worth mentioning that I’ve always been anti-novelty underwear, or at least since someone hung a pair of “Fart Wars: The Silent Menace” briefs in my living room a while back, but when you need clean underwear, you need clean underwear.) My gifts to my mom were James Taylor’s new live CD/DVD, and my old Playstation 2, on which she could play her present from my dad, Guitar Hero III: Legends of Rock (I like to say it like: Legends of Raaawwwk!) A few days ago, she sent me a text message (in a lot of ways, my mom is 12 years old) saying she had finally completed Heart’s Barracuda. In between gourmet breakfasts and dinners (and gourmet leftover lunches) I managed to prove that I am nowhere near as good as some of my friends (allegedly) are at Guitar Hero, but way better than my mom (who deserves a lot of credit for trying.)

For over a year, I’ve been ribbing my brother about when he was going to get engaged to his 5(+) year girlfriend, who in case she is reading this is more than a delight and the world’s best sister-in-law-to-be. Over thanksgiving, he asked my mom if she had any “heirloomish” (direct quote) diamond rings in her safe deposit box. She retrieved my great-(great-?)Grandmother’s engagement ring for him to propose with and let me just say that great-(great-?)Grandpa did not screw around. At dinner the night before his departure, my brother was goaded into telling about a dream he had the previous night in which he had left but forgotten the ring. Which is all kind of an obvious set-up to the story about how he forgot the ring, but due to early-airport-arrival, my mom was able to speed the 30 miles back to the house from the airport, retrieve the ring, speed back to the airport, hand the ring off to my dad, who ran it inside and met me at the stairs, which I ran up and handed the ring off to my brother who already had his shoes off and laptop out in the security check area, and ran to the gate with his shoes off and laptop out as the agent was closing the door. At least that’s the way the way it would’ve happened if his plane hadn’t been an hour late to depart. Either way it was hilarious. And I made five bucks off my dad.

After the airport my dad, my uncle and I went to Al’s French Fries. (If you’ve never been to Al’s, then I feel sorry for you. I was home a week and went twice, and it’s 30 miles from my parent’s house.) Al’s is like McD’s or BK except there’s only one of them and the food is way better, especially the fries, obviously. Waiting in line at Al’s we were joined in line by a guy that my dad introduced to my uncle as my hometown’s premier song and dance man, to which he replied “Your father is so fulla… fulla… beans.” When asked what he was doing in the “big city” he replied that (on Dec. 27^th) he “figured he should probably finish [his] Christmas shopping.” There are two things you need to know about this particular gentleman, 1.) he directed and co-starred in the first musical I was in, and directed the third (and last) one I was in, in which I co-starred, and 2.) Despite his theatric and musical (he's an excellent banjo and fiddle player) proclivities he is a farmer and will forever smell like cow shit.

2008-01-08T17:50:00.001-06:00

Today, Jan 8th at 11am the thermometer in my car read 79 degrees.

2008-01-04T15:45:00.000-06:00

I have no idea how these work

2008-01-04T10:08:00.001-06:00

2007-12-31T18:07:00.000-06:00

Boxing Day shopping with Mom = AWESOME!!

2007-12-26T22:27:00.000-06:00

I got a new guitar today, it’s sweet. It’s not a regular style guitar it’s an electric “Hawaiian Style” guitar, also known as the “lap steel” guitar. It looks like this:

I’m a complete beginner in this type of guitar which is played by laying flat on your lap and manipulating the tone with a steel bar slide which you move up and down the neck. It’s called Hawaiian style because it was first used in Hawaii (duh) when this dude was walking down the train tracks with his guitar and picked up a loose bolt and used it slide around on the guitar strings.

There are several people famous for being slide guitar players, Blind Willie Johnson, Elmore James, Bonnie Raitt, Tony Furtado, to rattle of my favorites, but really no one famous for the lap steel. In fact I’ve only see two people ever play it, the front man from String Cheese Incident which was not a memorable performance, and Ben Harper. I’ve seen Ben Harper before live, and he puts on a pretty good show, especially when he plays Midnight Rider on the lap steel.

A Christmas Story

2007-12-25T01:57:00.000-06:00

For as long as I can I remember, I’ve had trouble falling asleep on Christmas Eve. Not because I was trying to see Santa, but because I knew that soon another Christmas would be gone, and I’d have nothing to show for it except a few toys I was tired of by noon, a chocolate supply that wouldn’t last until dinner, and a bolstered supply of socks and underwear.

Back at home for only the second time since last the yuletide was gay, things are the same and completely different at the same time. Like for example, there’s a big ass tree in the living room. Also new, is wireless internet, which I am enjoying presently. Our tree is decorated with a nice blend of fancy store bought ornaments, moderately fancy store bought ornaments that were then painted with snowflakes, angels, wreaths, Santa, etc. and hand made elementary school crafts projects (and mardi gras beads, because I’ll use any excuse to get rid of some of those.) The closest ornament to me as I write, is one I made out of three popsicle sticks, blue paint, yarn, glue and red glitter. In the center is a school picture day portrait of me at roughly kindergarten/1st grade. My brother said I had fresh faced optimism, but I recognize the same no-teeth grin I still use today if told to smile with nothing to smile about.

There was a streak of about four or five years recently where every year, my mom says that this is going to be the year that Christmas gets scaled back and the amount of presents is severely reduced, but ended up loading the tree anyway. In recent years, the amount of presents really has declined, but gradually to the point of there being few, if any From: Santa gifts. I blame Al Gore.

I did 90% of my Christmas shopping in an underground music store. From street level you walk down a flight of steps into a basement filled with CDs, DVDs, and LPs. They were giving away free posters for a band fronted by a girl I went to middle school (and sang in chorus) with. I wouldn’t say she’s huge, but those in the musical know would know her. She’s definitely the most famous person I went to middle school with. Anyways, I’ve long been a fan of this music store, their indie rack is as big as their pop rack, and half the store is used CDs. They have concert videos that I’ve never seen in any store or even for sale online.

My original flight out of New Orleans was delayed two hours due to bad weather in Philly, then they boarded the plane and told us that the plane wasn’t going to fly for another two hours. Since the first two hours used up all of the contingency in my layover, I decided that maybe it would e better to try the next day (Saturday.) I called up my buddy to see what his plans were, and then told him I’d be there shortly. He asked what I meant and I told him I intended to get off the plane and he goes: “I like your style.” Me too, we went downtown and got pretty banged up, saw Kermit Ruffins break it down real nice at the new Balcony Club on Decatur, spent an hour looking for my friend’s lost work van, sang Motown songs with a homeless guy, then went to Ms. Mae’s. When the bouncer told me I wasn’t allowed in until I finished my drink, I said “Do you know who I am?” Stupid new guy, needless to say I didn’t go in.

Saturday morning, my brother called about 10:30am to ask what time my flight was arriving/ remind me I was flying/ make sure I didn’t miss my flight. I reassured him I would make it, in fact I had spent the night on my buddy’s couch, who coincidentally I would be sharing a flight with. We got the desk agents to give us seats next t each other, and then went to the airport bar. My buddy had already drank about two pints of sangria, and the sitting next to him thing turned out to be only a moderately good idea. We had a couple drinks at the hotel bar and hopped on the plane. I only had to tell him a couple of times not to point at the person he was talking about, the middle-aged shuffle rocking guy who had the misfortune of sharing a row with us that day. We fired up a couple bloody marys and since it was Christmas the subsequent ones were free.

Upon arrival in Philly, we found our way to the restrooms, where I had sitting business. I hear my buddy say:

Did you just see that? There was just a woman in here. Maybe it wasn’t a woman,
maybe it was it just a manboy… or mangirl.

I am sitting in my stall, absolutely dying laughing, there’s probably 5-8 other people in this bathroom, few of which would have the presence to realize that he was shitfaced because it was only like 4pm.

So we check on our connecting flights and go to the pub for nachos, a hotdog and four or five more drinks. We meet these two English (but actually it turns out are originally South African) girls who are on their way to Miami for “chrimble holiday,” which directly translated means: Christmas break. I think they may have warmed up to us once they realized how drunk we were. What shouldn't take them long to realize, is that there are no two guys in the United States that they could have been luckier to sit with.

I had an extra hour and a half after the girls’ and my friend’s plane left, so I decided I’d stretch my legs before I continued to kill my liver. I got a coffee irished and signed up for a US Air MasterCard and in return received a small teddy bear which spent the rest of the trip on my shoulder, being introduced to everyone he made eye contact with as Boudreaux the Bear, my co-pilot and confidant.

Not to toot my own horn or anything but...

2007-12-21T13:38:00.000-06:00

Christmas came early today when I found out I passed this test...
Good thing I studied...
Good thing I didn't go to a massive music festival the night before the test...

I'm going on vacation for a week or so, so I should have some time to write. I'll be in Chi-town for the Saints vs Bears abortion (preseason, tickets for this game were like $150 min. now you can get for like $40,) and New Years, I'll miss Galactic feat. Chali 2Na at Tips but I plan on having some good stories from the windy windy.

Pacem.

Why Sports Blgs are Soooo Popular

2007-12-21T11:09:00.000-06:00

Be sure to read the comments.

I could not care less about TO and Jessica Simpson

2007-12-19T16:42:00.000-06:00

This is a screen grab of a link someone just emailed me:

What I wonder is how many people who received the same link read the article without noticing the red BREAKING NEWS above it, I'd guess at least two-thirds.

That's $70B that won't be spent on:

Low income housing for the NOLA residents who can't live in their FEMA trailers anymore because of the formaldehyde coming out of the AC, (or those levee thing-eys,)
Health care for the 10,000 homeless CHILDREN in L.A,
Renewable energy/cancer/AIDS research,
or my favorite charitable cause: musical instruments for kids that can't afford them.

Of course the argument has been made that many inventions we use everyday are the product of the war machine. Without microwave ovens we would still be living in the stone age, and without hang-gliders we'd still be... I don't know, zip-lining?

Another Non-Racist Post

2007-12-19T10:45:00.000-06:00

World's Biggest Crackers:

Why I Chose to Become an Engineer

2007-12-18T20:58:00.000-06:00

Right after I grduated from college, my father set me up with a job interview with the local office of what I think is the world's largest consulting engineering firm. He knew a guy who worked in the company's office in St. Louis, but occasionally did work out of the office in New Orleans, and also occasionally offered his professional opion to my father's endeavors, for a tidy fee, they only knew each other professionally. So I went in for the interview and met with the office manager and then later my father's contact, and it was my first real job interview and I wasn't prepared or loose, and I didn't get the job. Months later I was talking to my dad and he mentioned that he had talked to his buddy, and he had ecounted a funny story from our interview. He asked me if I remembered what I had said when asked why I chose to become an engineer. I replied that I had a couple of canned answers to that question, but I didn't recall which I'd given. Apparently my response had been: "Because I didn't want to be a doctor."

You see, I grew up the son of a doctor and an engineer, who made relentless fun of accountants and lawyers. I considered there to really only be two career paths to upper-middle-classdom. I remember one time my dad telling me something along the lines of: Your mom and I could have made a lot of money with our professions, but instead we chose to live well and have more time to spend with you kids. But don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong with being rich. I'm pretty sure he waited to tell me that until after I admitted that I'd never be a rockstar. I never showed any talent for non-waaaayyy-abstract visual arts and I was never more than a B+ guitar student even before I lost part of my finger, and I didn't thought acting was for homosexuals, even though I showed a flair for the dramatic earlier than most. Maybe he wasn't talking about being famous, but rather suggesting I pursue a career on Wall Street (or some other financial endeavor riskier than moving to LA and waiting tables (or worse), trying to get noticed) but to my 12 year old mind he said "rich", and I just added the "and famous."

When I was about twelve I cut my finger carving my Halloween pumpkin (this is not the story of how I lost my finger tip, this was just a good deep gash) and I bled so much that I passed out. My mom said it was because of lost blood pressure, but I wasn’t convinced it wasn’t a weakness concerning the sight of what the inside of my finger looked like. When I did have my finger tip “traumatically amputated” in a door, I saw for a second time the inside of (coincidentally the same) one of my fingers. I passed out a couple times before that one was all said and done, and I ruined one of my favorite t-shirts.

Being an engineer was the rational choice, which coincidentally is what engineering is all about, getting as much information as possible and making the optimal decision within all of the constraints; maximizing the positives, without sacrificing any of the design constraints. Engineering is about pushing the limit of what is possible without delving into the realm of unknown or unsafe. Art professions ask you to not only break boundaries but to stay outside and no compromise your vision based on the criticism of others; not just think outside the box, but live outside the box. As a lawyer or financier, I may have a shot at becoming rich, but, possibly, at some moral or ethical cost. As an engineer, ethics are a big part of the equation. (Sure Westinghouse made a fortune on his air-brake, and Otis invented the brake that stops a falling elevator and both got rich in the process, but they did it saving lives. Every time you drive over a bridge, whether it be the Golden Gate, Brooklyn, a high rise, overpass, or just a short creek crossing, you’re entrusting your life to the engineer that designed the bridge and his/her ethics and “due diligence.”) As a doctor you are also entrusted with strangers’ lives, but you have to be able to deal with blood.

If you haven't signed up at imeem.com, do it now!

2007-12-18T09:55:00.000-06:00

imeem.com has signed deals with all the major labels allowing them to share music for free. Advertising revenue sharing will appearently apease the giant blood sucking leaches, who, for the first time since napster got blown up, are off my shit list! Fuck you iTunes!

A couple choice moments with the boss at the office Christmas party

2007-12-17T14:42:00.000-06:00

[Electric Slide Playing in the background]
Me: Nice party man, what a room.
HMFIC: It is nice isn't it, way better than last years. (I slept through the party last year because I had been out until noon/1 the night before.) Some day it'll be you picking out the room.
Me: I could be so lucky...
HMFIC: You will be.
Me: So you want to do the Electric slide... it's electric?
HMFIC: No, I don't think so.
Me: No you don't want to, or no you don't know how?
HMFIC: (Smiles) I don't think so.

[Sean Kingston - Beautiful Girl playing in the background]
#2MFIC: How come you're not dancing?
Me: I don't have anyone to dance with.
#2MFIC: Here take my wife.
#2MF'sW: You got me suicidal, suicidal. Beautiful girl...

Pictures that aren't confidential

2007-12-15T09:32:00.000-06:00

You can see how this stairway was pushed into plastic behavior. The Katrina waves that did this pushed it past this point, but it flexed back to here. Someone signed off on it saying it was still safe though.

Dear God, please let there be another oil boom, I promise I won't piss it away this time.

2007-12-14T17:06:00.000-06:00

I know what you're thinking and the answer is: yes, I did ride on a helicopter today. My friend called me up last night around 8 to see if I wanted to go out drinking, I told him: "Sorry man, I'm going offshore tomorrow which means I have to get up at around 2:30 am." He says "Well, aren't you lucky." I'm can't decide if he was being sarcastic, I love going offshore.

Up at two thirty am in order to be at the heliport for six. Please forgive any spelling, or grammer mistakes I'm really tired right now?

These old guard oil field guys are full of great stories and one-liners, I'll relate one story I heard today and then a few of my favorite one-liners (I never saw the sign I used for the above title, but it's reported to be somewhere near Lubbock), then I'm going to fais-do-do.

So this one well in the field I was in today has been producing oil continuously since 1955. For it's 50th birthday, the operator got an old christmas tree (which is what you call the head of a well string) and had it blasted and painted real nice and had a plaque made listing the amount oil this well had produced in its 50 years. So last year, the field superintendent, who I'm told was a great guy, retired. The guys in the field convince the operator to take this monument and ship it to north Louisiana and put it in this guys yard. Great tribute right? Can you imagine having a big (approx. 3'X3'X5') chunk of iron, painted bright yellow, planted like a tree in your front yard?

"He didn't know whether to scratch his watch or wind his ass."
""___insert any number of unintelligible catch phrases everyone but me thinks is absolutely hilarious here ____."
"There's no such thing as an oil spill at night."
"Your wife's like mine huh, two assholes... one she shits with, one she sends to work."

I've got more, but my brain is too tired to remember any right now.

Stare at the dot, move your head forward and back

2007-12-12T13:49:00.001-06:00

More Hating on Bush

2007-12-12T13:40:00.000-06:00

Read This Click the Links

Friday Night Part II

2007-12-11T20:19:00.000-06:00

So I just got to my neighborhood bar for dinner and the bartender says to me "Zach! How you feeling?" to which I replied "You must have been working Friday." This is not the first time this has happened. Leslie (the bartender) says I sat down at the bar, didn't say hello and demanded a double Leslie and Coke.

I'm in no way endorsing this crappy song but,

2007-12-11T14:31:00.000-06:00

even if I was a chick I think this video would give me a boner:

I Probably Would've Given More Than an Ear

2007-12-10T19:01:00.000-06:00

A few interesting things happened today, but the two most culturally important would have to be Michael “Ron “Ookie” Mexico” Vick’s being sentenced to just shy of two years in federal prison for his role in the dog fighting corporation he financed “Bad Newz Kennelz,” (Bad news indeed… zing!) and the reunion concert by Led Zeppelin that just ended. They played a strong set list including some of my favorites, ROCKING in with Good Times Bad Times (a song we called GT/BT back in the halcyon Phish days of my youth), Ramble On (two of the top five best baselines ever, in one song!), and Black Dog (played out, but for a reason) to open. Then they played a few songs with which I must admit unfamiliarity, In My Time of Dying, For Your Life, Trampled Under Foot, and Nobody’s Fault but Mine. Then they launched into an EPIC string of ABSOLUTE AWESOMENESS:

No Quarter – My most recent favorite Zepp song.

Since I’ve Been Loving You – The song I lost my virginity to.

Dazed and Confused – Reportedly lasted ten minutes at the end of which Plant clued everyone in as to who was playing the guitar.

Stairway to Heaven – The song I touched my first boob to. (Seventh Grade Dance What What!)

The Song Remains the Same – Classic, aptly named even?

Misty Mountain Hop – The second most underrated song on IV (after The Battle for Evermore which is AWESOME)

Kashmir – Will undoubtedly be in the soundtrack of the movie I’ll probably never make, when the hero is walking towards the villain for the showdown. I saw Galactic cover this on Lundi Gras last year at Tip's and I pretty much lost it.

Whole Lotta Love – Was at one time my favorite Zepp song.

Rock and Roll – Again, aptly named, one of the ROCKINGEST songs ever.

A few weeks ago, a friend and I had a discussion as to which part and how much of our body we’d be willing to give up to be at this show. She said a ear, I said yeah but only after the show.

Three Stories My Parole Officer Would Not Find Amusing

2007-12-10T18:41:00.000-06:00

So if you take a look at the comment that was left in the last post, you may not understand, but I’ll translate as much as I can. Basically it says:

Hi, you may not remember me but my name may or may not be Missy. Last night you jumped into my car and forced me to give you a ride to Mae’s where, judging by your condition, you had absolutely no business going. You did however feel bad for hijacking me, so you gave me twenty dollars which I spent on beignets and coffee and It was delicious.

p.s. At some point in the drive you told me about your blog and even convinced me that I should look at it and leave you a note.

To further clarify, I was at a Robert Earl Keen show, after going to an event sponsored by the local microbrewery that involved $1, 16oz, I.P.A.s that I drank about ten of, then went to the show and started drinking redbull-vodka, then, after the show, hitch/jacked a ride to a bar that serves well cocktails for $1, and somewhere in between I stopped remembering stuff.

Thank GOD I didn’t drive to the pub crawl initially.

Saturday was a tough one, even my patented hangover cure, which involves two ten minute walks, bacon, and as much Ice Tea as a man can possibly drink, did not make me feel any better. So, rather ingeniously I think, I came up with a plan to cure what ale-ed me (get it?). I would go to a place that's so loud, you're required to wear hearing protection. I called my buddy who has a gorgeous .357 magnum revolver and took my Browning Hi-Power to the local indoor pistol range. I can put 10 out of thirteen shots through the same hole with that Hi-Power, I love that gun. Afterwards we went to a nearby BBBQ (the extra B is for bbombdiggity) joint (you have to say BBQ JOINT I'm told, restaurant is unacceptable.)

Sunday I drank from noon until about 9pm. The Patriots are sooooo good, but you know who's better? Me, at fantasy football.

And Now For Something Completely Different

2007-12-07T09:20:00.000-06:00

I don't usually like to get political but fuck Bush and his continuing crusade in Iraq. Since the war started in the spring of '03, an average of about 17 coalition soldiers have died each week. 120 have killed themselves. Three died yesterday. I can't believe they're still dying.

Not for the Weak

2007-12-06T14:58:00.000-06:00

A friend told me a story a few weeks back about how the injured their knee that made me nauseas.
While watching this, I did the move where I covered my eyes but peeked through my fingers. Enjoy!

Getting the Seamen Joke Out of the Way Early

2007-12-05T19:21:00.000-06:00

I don’t know if everyone’s aware of this, but if you type in a day (i.e. December 5, 25^th etc) at Wikipedia, it will tell you all the famous people who were born/died on that day, and any historic type event that happened. This Friday is December 7^th(the 66^th anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor and) the day before December 8^th, when FDR pronounced the 7^th infamy day, or something like that. The Japanese attack that day should not be cheapened by my bad jokes, or anything else for that matter, it was a vicious sneak attack by a country with whom we were not at war, comparable only to whatever the date was that those planes hit the WTC (again cheap jokes mean no disrespect.)

Odds are, 1 out of every 365.25 people you walk by on the street was born on any given day, except February 29^th in which case the odds are 1/1461. There are three ways a parent could handle a leap-child (besides abstinence around Memorial Day/ Victoria Day if you’re Canadian.) The two easy and obvious ones would be to celebrate on either the 28^th or the first of Feb/Mar. The third option, and I think the best, would be to say:

Look kid, life ain’t fair, you better get used to it now. Bobby gets a birthday every year and you don’t, what are you going to do about it? Cry? Oh, really? You’re gonna cry? (Just kidding unborn kids, I would never say ain’t, my children will have impeccable grammar, usage, and mechanics like Daddy or else they will peel potatoes or run laps.)

That would teach them one of the most important life lessons before they turn four, and make them hard, the better to deal with other disappointments. And, you just make it up to them with more Christmas presents, teaching the other annual-birthday-celebrating offspring a lesson in the process.

I have no idea how to segue that train of thought back into stuff-wikipedia-says-happened-on-Dec7^th-besides-Pearl Harbor but this sentence will have to suffice. Anyway, did you know:

In 1787 Delaware became the first state to ratify the US Constitution on Dec. 7^th?

In 1917 the US officially entered The Great War (That’s what they called WWI back in the day) on Dec. 7th?

In 1928 writer Noam Chomsky was born on Dec. 7^th?

In 1932 actress Ellen Burstyn was born on Dec. 7^th?

In 1947 baseball player Johnny Bench was born on Dec. 7^th?

In 1949 singer Tom Waits was born on Dec. 7^th?

In 1956 basketball player Larry Bird was born on Dec. 7^th?

In 1970 cartoonist Rube Goldberg passed away on Dec. 7^th?

In 1971 pornstar Chasey Lain was born on Dec. 7^th? ed. note: who?

In 1972 Apollo 17 astronauts took this photo on Dec. 7th?

In 1973 football player Terrell Owens (infamy indeed) was born on Dec. 7^th?

In 1976 football player Alan Faneca was born on Dec. 7^th?

In 1983 baseball player Fousto “no, my name is cooler” Carmona was born on Dec. 7^th?

That’s just the highlights, millions of people who’s name I don’t recognize, even some whose name I would, but only because they share names with people who’s name I recognize, were born or passed on December 7^th including all the seamen who woke up on December 7^th 66 years ago in Hawaii and never saw December 8^th.

Not Really a Racist Thought (per se)

2007-12-05T15:56:00.000-06:00

If Martin Luther King Jr was still alive, would we even know who Jesse Jackson or Al Sharpton are?

Word of the Year

2007-12-05T14:08:00.000-06:00

Last year's word of the year was truthiness, this year's candidates are right here. I am going to try and write something with all 20 nominees, but it may take a while so I'll hit it after work.

That's funny, I always have to steal my kisses from Brian Billick

2007-12-04T12:18:00.000-06:00

2007-12-03T17:43:00.000-06:00

100 Years Ago, Dentists Made Half as Much as Engineers

This Is Awesome, If You're a Dork

2007-12-03T10:40:00.000-06:00

How to Win at Monopoly
Of course, I already knew all of this, having not lost at Monopoly since the first time I played back in 1988.

More Fun Pictures

2007-12-03T08:03:00.000-06:00

Good for a Laugh

2007-12-02T19:09:00.000-06:00

Watching the BCS selection show, they announce that Hawaii will be visiting us here for the Sugar Bowl. They show the crowd at UHawaii getting fired up (Sugar Bowl is a big deal especially for a small school like Hawaii) and there is this little girl doing the "hang loose" sign.
I go to wikipedia to read a about it, and part of the way down the page they drop this on you.

Because I Feel Like Writing

2007-12-02T15:39:00.000-06:00

So I was watching cartoons yesterday morning in about a three-quarter-stupor trying to figure out why I fell asleep on my living room floor armed to the teeth, when a commercial came on for a Christmas album for kids called “Yo, It’s Christmas.” The answer is yes, I bought it: “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way, oh what fun it is to ride in a blinged out Christmas sleigh. Dashing through the snow in a drop top Chevrolet, over the hills we go, bumpin’ all the way, bump bump bump…” It turns out it’s a Disney project, so like all Disney products it’s PG, grammatically correct, and its racism is moderate in both intensity and disguise. My favorite line (I haven’t listened closely all the way through yet, so I’m reserving my right to change) is “Don we now our fly apparel, fa la la la la la la la la, and we roll wit that ancient yuletide carol.” Also, this from Silent Night: “Let’s break it down allright, all was calm and all was bright.” Basically if I had kids, they would not be allowed to listen to this album, but if they asked why, I wouldn’t be able to come up with a very good answer. I don’t have kids though, so I get to listen to it for its cheesy beats and other humorous qualities.

I went and saw American Gangster last night, and I have still yet to see a bad Denzel movie (except maybe The Bone Collector, which only makes the maybe list because Angelina Jolie is in it. Angelina’s been in some moderately bad movies, but she has a free pass in my book because of Hackers.) Everyone loved Training Day, but He Got Game was a far superior movie, although it should be mentioned that I carry a pretty low opinion of Ethan Hawke. One of my favorite movies is Hoodlum, to which American Gangster is something like a sequel. Larry Fishburne’s character in Hoodlum is Ellsworth “Bumpy” Johnson, who gets out of jail and frees Harlem from the grips of Jewish gangster Arthur “Dutch Schultz” Flegenheimer, and after earning the blessings of the Italian Charles “Lucky” Luciano establishes himself as the most powerful man in Harlem. American Gangster picks up many years later in 1968, with the death of Bumpy Johnson. Denzel (who it turns out is about to turn 53) plays Frank Lucas, Bumpy’s driver and bodyguard. Lucas sets up a heroin importation operation and when he’s finally arrested, the Fed’s seize $250M, which adjusted for inflation is over a billion, and doesn’t include all the real estate etc he and his family bought.

In the only scene where Denzel has an identifiable gun, it's a Browning Hi-Power. According to five minutes of e-research, it appears Lucas was fond of the Hi-Power.

Tricking the Brain is FUN!!!

2007-11-30T14:45:00.001-06:00

Click on it and open it, after 10 sec or so the picture changes to black and white, but your tired eyes will see it in color. After you blink, you will see it in its black and white glory.

At Least I Won My Teaser pt II

2007-11-29T23:06:00.000-06:00

God I hate the Cowboys. I hate the Cowboys only slighty less than I hate the Yankees or Colts which I dislike equally. Fortunately I am good at hedging my bets, I won my teaser (Packers +13, Over 46 bet 20) to win $19. Hooray, I spent that much on electricty this week. I'd like to win my rent.

I am almost positive that Vegas called that PI after the only ref who was within 20 yards of the play said there was no interference.

Sing Praises

2007-11-29T17:56:00.000-06:00

Over a year ago, after my father’s glowing recommendation, and my new found capability for producing disposable income, I signed up for Netflix. As anyone who is not a first time reader can attest, I love movies. I originally signed up for the modest 2-at-a-time unlimited (no monthly limit) plan for about $14 a month. When my “queue” of movies for which I was waiting reached 200, I upgraded to 3-at-a-time for about $17/ month. Do I watch $18/month worth of movies, you’re god damn right I do. I work those Netflix couriers to the bone, and if I don’t hit my full capacity I make up for it the next month. I have been hanging onto one movie: Isle of Wight Festival 1970: A Message to Love, because I am admittedly addicted to hippie music/culture. In between acts like Jimi Hendrix, The Doors, The Who, Joni Mitchell, Miles Davis, Moody Blues, etc, there is actually a plot involving the appearance of about 550,000 people who came to the festival with absolutely no intention of buying a ticket. Tickets were 3 pounds a pop (which a rough calculation works out to about $30 today) and the festival promoters ended up having to let them all in, for a net loss on the festival of somewhere in the order of, let’s say $10M of today’s dollars. Anyways, the point is, if I hold onto a movie for longer than a couple days, its kind of like I’m back to being on the 2-at-a-time plan. Due to the changeover time, i.e. mail it to Baton Rouge, process, mail back to NOLA, 3-at-a-time is necessary if you want to watch a movie every day. Who would want to watch a movie every day? Someone with 320 movies currently waiting to be watched, with new ones coming out every week, that’s who.

Netflix has a rating system that allows you to rive a number of stars to movies, and it uses your rating to suggest movies to add to your queue. At 320, I need help adding to my queue like I need a hole in the head, but if I only watched movies I’d heard of, then I wouldn’t be able to watch a movie every day, not that I actually watch a movie every day, but if I could, you better believe I would. I’ve rated 1,457 movies. I’ve only watched about 50 since signing up, and one that I watched I didn’t finish because it was too bad. Anyways, that’s an overall average of 3.5 movies per month, which is way below my goal, but for much of that time I was on that 2-at-a-time plan. Since I upgraded about two months ago I’ve seen 20 movies, at an average of ten a month. Let’s do the math, 12 months of $14 a month saw 30 movies (there was a transition period of about a month when I moved, and they sent a bunch of movies to the ghosts that were living at my house, so we’ll just chalk up those $14 to being an idiot and excuse them from the calculations so: ) 11months X $14per = $154, $154/30 movies = about $5 per movie, which (I haven’t been to blockbuster in years so I wouldn’t know but) sounds about average. Now, since I upgraded, 2 months X $18 = $36, $36/20 movies = about $2 per movie, which is a pretty sweet deal unless you live near one of those cheap theaters that plays second run movies, which we, unfortunately, do not have her in New Orleans.

Around the same time I upgraded to the 3-at-a-time plan, I also bought an HD-DVD player, all the better to see Clive Owen’s milky complexion. What I meant to say was Rosario Dawson’s yoo-hoo-ey complexion (Children of Men was the first HD-DVD I got, Clerks II should be in my mail box when I get home.) The difference between DVD and HD-DVD isn’t quite as dramatic as the jump from VHS to DVD, but its close. What I’m not sure of though, is whether the films shot in the 7/80’s that are being released on HD-DVD were shot in high enough def for it to be worth it. It doesn’t really matter, because Netflix sends you HD-DVDs or Blu-Rays at the same price as the regular DVD’s.

I kind of want to get a Blu-Ray player, likely in the incarnation known as the Playstation III, because this business of a format war is killing me. The fact that there are tons of movies I can’t see in HD because the studio is buddy-buddy with Sony instead of Toshiba is absolute horseshit. I’ve heard that the last format war, between VHS and Betamax, was pretty much decided when the pornography industry chose, for some reason unanimously, to use VHS to distribute their wares (thus ending the prominence of the XXX theaters you see in movies.)

1/2 Man + 1/2 Beast = Meast

2007-11-27T18:31:00.000-06:00

It’s been a while since I’ve nominated an asshole of the day, so I’m going to make up for it with an asshole of the year. This year’s asshole of the year is the motherfucker who shot Sean Taylor.

If I may, a short anecdote:

Over two years ago, lets say 26 months, my friend and I were living in post-apocalypse New Orleans, working (semi-) steady jobs, relatively care-in-the-world-less. We’d usually spend about 25% of our paycheck on food and the rest on alcohol, which, you may or may not remember, was hard to do, considering there was 2am curfew in effect back in those days. Anyways, we both liked to play poker, and playing against each other had lost all of its appeal, so we decided to go to the only open casino on the gulf coast, Boomtown. It was about a 30 minute ride to the west bank and Boomtown from our little slice of post-apoc paradise, which duration will become (slightly) relevant momentarily.
So we roll up to the casino and, acting like gangsters, we ask for seats at a poker table. We’re told it could be as much as a two hour wait for a seat, so we meander around the casino a little bit and end up at the blackjack table. I proceed to lose about a hundred bucks in less than a half hour, and my buddy goes down to two chips, a five and a ten. We decide we can’t lose anymore of our hard earned drinking money and that we should have just stayed home and played Omaha HiLo against each other. As we’re walking out the door, the voice comes on the PA saying that our seats are ready. We weigh the cost of the trip already versus the risk of rehitting the ATM and playing poker, and decide that we’ll play the last of the chips on the roulette table and let fate decide for us. My friend puts his $10 chip down on his high-school hockey number and asks me to pick a number for the five. I had spent a portion of the afternoon watching Sean Taylor highlight reels and feeling it, chose 21. At this point you can probably guess the rest of the story, so I won’t flower it up any, I’ll just summarize. 21 hit, at 35:1 X 5 = $180 effectively erasing our blackjack losses, we went upstairs and terrorized the wanna-bes at the poker tables for about $400 bucks and went to the Bulldog, which was one of the only places you could eat dinner after 8pm.

I never met Sean Taylor, I never watched him play in person, but I loved to watch him play. I watched many of his college games, and he was one of the few exciting players on a few unexciting Redskins teams. The hit in the post below from the Pro Bowl will serve as his legacy; he was likely the most feared safety since Ronnie Lott. At 6’-2” 236lbs, he may have been the biggest person to ever run a 4.4 40, born to play football, he died too soon.

More Sean Taylor

2007-11-27T14:00:00.000-06:00

This used to be a bad ass movie of Sean Taylor hitting punter Brian Moorman (he was running a fake punt) so hard that his wife shit in her pants. Fucking NFL hates YouTube.

RIP Sean Taylor

2007-11-27T08:34:00.000-06:00

Only in Death do our heroes revert to human form, all thoughts should be for Sean's 1yo daughter Jackie Taylor.
I prefer to celebrate life more than mourn death.

Age and other Thanksgiving Thoughts

2007-11-24T20:07:00.000-06:00

Every time I see my Great Aunt Sally, she says: “Oh, I haven’t seen you since you were this (makes hands like she’s about to catch a basketball) small,” and I see her like every year. As I was leaving, she says: “It was nice meeting you.” Sally lives with my grandmother Kay, who will be 90 in January. My grandmother’s mental faculties remain intact (“If he’s (Al Gore) going to run for president, he’s going to have to lose some weight”) but she’s shrinking and arthritic. Between the two of them they manage to keep things going fairly well. My Aunt’s father (to whom I’m not related, my Dad has 5 brothers, my mom 3, so all my aunts are by marriage) is 97, and his line is: “The only people interested in living until they’re 100 are people in their nineties.”

One of my cousins is 29, on the cusp of no longer being a “twenty-something.” When he asked his father, who’s quite a character, for career advice his response was: “Propecia.” My brother is also 29 and is wearing his hair longer than he has since high school, and may or may not be attempting to cover up male pattern baldness.

My Uncle got Guitar Hero for his birthday. My mom was amazed that my brother and I were able to pick up the game quickly, and it assuaged her fears that a (relatively short) lifetime of (relatively heavy) abuse had screwed up our nervous systems in a permanent fashion. She was very relieved, until she saw my twelve year old cousin play, and saw just what undamaged synapses could do. My Mom, who’s hooked and will be receiving guitar hero and my old playstation for Christmas, says that since she’s known him my uncle’s always had the best toys.

I heard a few stories I’d never heard before this year, including one that started “The only time I ever took LSD two days in a row…” I love stories about 6/70’s. We had a second thanksgiving dinner yesterday at guitar hero uncle’s house, and the only thing better than thanksgiving is doing it two days in a row. I don’t know if the same is true for a “substance made in the kitchen of a Univ. of Maryland drop out, C+ chemistry student.”

One of the traditional thanksgiving activities is the family band. My brother and I are musically competent and my twelve year old cousin (who’s pretty amazing at Guitar Hero, but he’s had a lot of practice) plays the drums and his older brother, who was a music major at UI-U-C, plays the cello. He has an electric cello and a pretty stout bass rig; bands without cellos are missing out big time. We were working on Eleanor Rigby, which it turns out is a fairly boring two chord song, when I noticed that it was the same as a Michael Franti song called “Time to Go Home,” which is an awesome two chord song. We looked it up on the computer and played it for him, and he picked out the bass line instantly and we were off and rocking. Not present for the jam session were the cousins that are piano virtuosos, my father and his banjo or any of my uncles whose musical talents range from surprising to not bad for an old guy.

An old family friend was talking about music with my father when I walked up and my father accused him and myself of liking “baby-boomer music.” I happen to be a big fan of Jorma Kaukonen, and my response was “I was, after all raised by baby-boomers.” Bruce Springsteen was mentioned and I went into my rant about how terrible his Jazz Fest show was, and I attempted to describe how much I hated that show. It turns out, just before I walked up, my dad was pitched the Seeger Sessions album and I was ragging on this guy’s favorite CD. That ended the music talk and the subject moved to space travel.

In order to travel to the nearest star and back in half of a human lifespan, the energy required to accelerate, decelerate, reaccelerate, and then redecelerate (according to spell check, reaccelerate is a word, but redecelerate is not) a human is more than all the power ever generated in the history of mankind. The necessary energy could, however, be reduced by half if people were half as big, or lived twice as long.

Over Airline Highway and Through the Parking Garages, to Grandmother's House We Go

2007-11-24T20:05:00.000-06:00

So, I missed my flight this morning. My brother called me an idiot, but I could’ve sworn that you only need to check in 20 minutes (I was there 25 minutes) before your flight. Oh, right, that’s when they start boarding. I’ll still make Thanksgiving, but everyone will probably be done eating by the time I get there, and someone has to leave to come pick me up. On the (slightly) brighter side, the girl I was sitting next to while waiting for my later flight said that she was sixth on a list of about ten people trying to fly standby on my earlier flight, so to my brother I say this: I may be an idiot, but somewhere someone got home earlier for Thanksgiving because I’m an idiot. I hope he (my brother) doesn’t eat all the turkey. I’m writing on a plane that’s more empty than any other plane I’ve ever been on, and it’s 2:20 pm central on Thanksgiving day, and when I arrive it’ll be about 5 eastern, I hope.

I only ran one red light on my way to the airport this morning, but I think I could’ve made it if I’d ran another one. Following my normal route to work, which is in between home and the airport, I was enjoying the lack of usual morning traffic and the fact that the guy in front of me was abusing the speed limit by almost 20 mph. We were stopped by a red light, for a street that no one uses except doctors and other hospital traffic for one of the bigger hospitals that didn’t get flooded by the storms. I’m wringing the steering wheel, one eye on the deific red light, the other on the dashboard clock, which is set five minutes fast on purpose. Anyway, point is, this light, this morning, served no purpose except to keep me from getting to airport. If there hadn’t been a car in front of me I would’ve driven through the light, but I was also hoping that the speedy fellow in front of me was going to get on the highway and I could follow him at high speeds through Metiarie to the airport. A few blocks after the light changed he slowed and blinked and turned right out of my life. As he turned, another car turned right from the street onto which he was turning and in front of me and proceded to obey the letter (or number as it were) of the law. I was not stopped by anymore redlights on my quest, although I did slow down for one.

The true idiocy of my thinking was that I thought I’d be able to park at the airport on Thanksgiving morning. All the lots were full, so I parked at Denny’s and jogged across airline highway, through the parking garages and to the ticket counters only to be told I was five minutes late, and would be arriving five hours late to my Grandmother’s house.

I probably would’ve gotten towed.

I drove home with my mind on my Grandmother, steelily determined to make my flight 3.5 hours later. I parked my car in front of my apartment, and walked to the only restaurant I’d seen open for a breakfast croissant and a heroically discarded sports page. I called a cab more than two hours before flight time, and he showed up within minutes. I arrived at the airport in time to buy Jay-Z’s new album and do all the work I had intended to do over the course of my 4 day weekend. The final step of said work was to add an MS Paint sketch to the spreadsheet I’d developed. Standby girl was impressed with my Paint skills.