Those Sick-Ass Greyhound Bastards

One of the fabled south Texas rivalries is between the Boerne Greyhound and my old high school, the Alamo Heights Mules. However, a coach at Boerne has taken the rivalry to a new level:

Boerne school trustees have accepted the resignation of a teacher who acknowledged to police that he posed as another person during a sexually explicit Internet chat with minors, officials said.

A police incident report says Gary Conn, a social studies teacher and assistant football coach in Boerne, admitted representing himself as an Alamo Heights coach in the July 1 chat with two 15-year-old girls.

"The investigation exonerated the Alamo Heights coach," said Lt. Darwin Griffeth of the Alamo Heights Police.

From http://news.mysanantonio.com/story.cfm?xla=saen&xlb=180&xlc=1076215&xld=

This story begs two questions:
1. What the fuck?
2. Which Alamo Heights coach was he impersonating?

Click here for the story.

I'll tell you what. Everytime a person logs onto the internet he or she must choose to you this tool for good or evil. It's pretty obvious what route the Greyhound coach took.

It's Not Like It's Dr. Who (yet)

But could Lieutenant Joe Leaphorn and Officer Jim Chee be on their way to dominating the PBS airwaves the same way Dr. Who and the cardboard box robots used to? I sure hope so. Coyote Waits will be shown this fall on Mystery! and Thief of Time is in the hopper. This is all a follow-up from last year's success with Skinwalkers.

Click here for more information.

This will be a much slicker sterile production than anything you'd see on Dr. Who. But the question persists: Which is cooler? Navajos fighting crime in the desert, or earthlings fighting crime in space?

Awesome...

If I ever get around to making more Top Ten lists, I'll have to address the top five or ten best comic strips. All Family Circus cracks aside, The Far Side would be probably be #1. And now there is The Complete Far Side. As far as I can tell it contains every single published Far Side and then some. It even has some of his initial rejection letters. I heard Gary Larson interviewed today on Morning Edition when he talked about all these goodies.

I think a fitting tribute to Gary Larson, would be to give The Complete Far Side was a Pi Day gift, which is, duh, on March 14th. Or Avogrado's Number Day, but that was last week (October 23, to be exact). You know, 6.02 times 10 to the 23rd. Shit, this may be too geeky for even The Far Side.

Jumbo Shrimp

Auto names have always intrigued me. Usually they are so freaking abstract or meaningless. What the hell is an "Allero," "Accord," or "Civic?" Might as well name a car the "Convent" or the "Concourse." It doesn't matter what the word means, as long as it sounds cool (and benign in the sedan's case).

But the one that really bothers me is the contradictory Jeep Cherokee Pioneer. So far as I know, putting a Cherokee in the same room as a pioneer is a bad idea, much less in an SUV. But that's okay, it sounds cool.


Image from http://digilander.libero.it/xjconnection/gallery_xj01.htm


For more on the lunacy of auto names, check out Matt the Hatt's most excellent Robot Alert blog about the new GM La Crosse (French for masturbation) and other naming fiascoes.

Molly Quinn's Sadness

Last night was the last ever pub quiz at Molly Quinn's Irish Pub. So I went with Brian, my uncle-in-law. We got there an hour early and still had to stand. This speaks more to the square-footage of Molly Quinn's (or lack therefore of) as it does the crowd that showed up.

So I had my final drafts of Boddington's and Brian and I mustered out a respectable score of 34 out of 50 (42 was the winning score). My biggest contribution was knowing Rocky Marciano was the boxer who died in an Iowa plane crash. The most memorable bit of trivia I learned was President Gerald Ford was born Leslie King Jr. (we guessed Taft--whoops).

Anwyay, Molly Quinn's is such a friendly place. It s so easy to strike up a conversation with anyone around you. I like co-owner (and pub quiz author) Wild Bill Watkin's quote: "An Irish pub is not a bar. It is a place where you can take your grandmother or your granddaughter."


Image from http://www.twincitiesdiningguide.com/restaurants/molly_quinns_irish_pub.htm

So, why is Molly Quinn's closing? Some of you may know the answer to this already. The short answer is "it's closing for total bullshit reasons." The longer answer is SuperAmerica, the ubiquitous Twin Cities gas station/convenience store is expanding and gave the Molly Quinn's landlords a lucrative deal to evict Wild Bill and the gang. All so the gas station can take over the whole block. The really nifty thing is this all going down on 43rd Ave and Lake Street. The next closest SuperAmerica is just FIVE FUCKING BLOCKS AWAY on 38th and Lake.

We live close to 40th Street and Lyndale Avenue, where there are two SuperAmericas across the street from each other (one on the SE corner and the other on the SW). Maybe I should start boycotting SuperAmerica.

Either way, it is sad that Molly Quinn's is closing. The only solace is Wild Bill plans to take his pub quiz act to the Dubliner in St. Paul. As Brian and I were leaving the owners got together and began singing a series of songs. Brian said he felt as if we were leaving someone's private party. That sums it all up, I think.

Brought Back to Life

Emily's mom called her a "World Series widow" sometime last week, as every time she called to talk to Emily I was watching baseball. But, in my opinion, that was a great World Series! And of course, another Texas pitcher stole the show. This time it was Josh Beckett. Let's see... Nolan Ryan, Roger Clemens, Kerry Wood, and now Beckett. What is the deal with hard-throwing Texas pitchers?

Coming full-circle, I watched the last three innings of game 6 with, who else, Emily and her mom. It's funny because I don't think my mother-in-law could name three current baseball players. But she was on the edge of her seat cheering for the Marlins. This would be like James/Matt the Hatt painting his face silver and black for a Spurs game.

Anyway, you know a pitcher is mowing them down with his nasty stuff when your mother-in-law says, "Wow! That pitcher is amazing!" That's the highest praise I can give for Beckett's dominance over the Yankees. Damn. The guy is 23 years-old in Yankee stadium and he didn't bat an eye. He has the kind if cockiness I like. Not the "I rule" kind of arrogance, but the "Nothing scares me" cockiness. A star is born.

In Case You Didn't Notice

There is a World Series going on, and it's a damn good one. As much as I hate the Yankees, I have to respect them. They are a tough, competitive bunch. Even when they were down 6-1 in he 7th inning, I kept watching because they are never out of a ball game. And sure enough, they made it interesting in the end. Sure, they are the best team money can buy and they represent all that is wrong with baseball. But I have to respect how they keep coming at teams and never give up. Plenty of team with swollen payrolls have players who simply collect their zillion dollar paychecks (the Mets come to mind), but the Yankees compete like few teams do (while collecting those paychecks).

If anyone reading this cares, here are some observations:

-FOX coverage of the series continues to be lacking. I find it insulting how they try and make baseball seem like this cool flashy product that will appeal to then Gen X and younger crowd. It's insulting to the older fans and gives no credit to "those young kids" who are treated like the only way they can appreciate baseball is if it's packaged as a video game. Baseball is baseball, and FOX should start treating it as such.

-I tired to tune in the AM radio to listen Joe Morgan and Jon Miller's call of the game, but it came in too fuzzy. Joe Morgan, I think, is the best baseball color analyst out there and it's too bad FOX can't get him on their broadcast team.

-What's up with the cartoons FOX shows at the end of the game drawn in the style of an editorial cartoon? Very strange. Especially one they showed tonight, with a marlin on a fishing pier with a generic Yankee baseball player hanging from the end of his fishing pole. The caption said, "CATCH OF THE DAY!" This makes no fucking sense. Why would a marlin go fishing?

Editorial cartoons only work when they follow an appropriate, parallel logic. For example, it would make sense if they showed a carpetbagger or blue-haired snow bird from the East Coast nabbing a marlin after a Yankee win, because I imagine these people do come down from the East and fish. Which would parallel the Yankees coming from the East Coast and destroying the Marlins. Show me a real-life parallel of a marlin going fishing for people, and then maybe tonight's cartoon makes sense.

DAMN! It pisses me off just thinking how off base this "marlin fishing for people" cartoon is. It's pretentious in that it thinks it's in the spirit of political cartoons and it also really adds absolutely nothing to the FOX coverage except for pissing me off even more.

-It also irks me that FOX feels compelled to show the signing of "America the Beautiful" during the 7th inning stretch. And I think Major League Baseball also should share the blame in this one. By over-exposing us to this song it cheapens what is, in my opinon, the best patriotic song our country has. The whole "tradition" is an offshoot of 9/11, but how many people really are reflecting on that day while this song is being played? It's thoughtless patriotism and it dilutes the memory of 9/11. Nice going FOX.

-And finally, Ugueth Urbina and Pudge Rodriguez kissing each other is weird. Fair enough. They did it after game 1 and they did it at the end of tonight's game. But does FOX really need to show the kiss(es) in slow-motion? And did they need to show a replay of the game 1 kiss before the start of game 2?

You should get the drift of what I'm saying by now. FOX's coverage is really annoying me, and I guess I needed to get that off my chest. But this series has been so enjoyable that not even FOX's shitty bag of tricks (I haven't even mentioned their ridiculous sound effects and "ultra slow-mo" views) can ruin this fall classic.

I Found It

So I have to post it. This passage will make so much more since of you read the post below first. So read "ZAPPED! by Cel-Ray" first and then come back and read this passage from Cannery Row

While he ate his sandwich and sipped his beer, a bit of conversation came back to him. Blaisedell, the poet, had said to him, "You love beer so much. I'll bet some day you'll go in and order a beer milk shake." It was a simple piece of foolery, but it had bothered Doc ever since. He wondered what a beer milk shake would taste like. The idea gagged him but he couldn't let it alone. It cropped up every time he had a glass of beer. Would it curdle the milk? Would you add sugar? It was like a shrimp ice cream. Once the thing got into your head you couldn't forget it. He finished his sandwich and paid Herman. He purposely didn't look at the milk shake machine lined up against the back wall. If a man ordered a beer milk shake, he thought, he'd better do it in a town where he wasn't known. But then, a man with a beard, ordering a beer milk shake in a town where he wasn't known--they might call the police.

-Cannery Row, chapter 17

Good stuff. It's worth digging up a copy and reading the whole chapter (actually the whole, short book). He does indeed end up ordering a beer milk shake in some small town.

ZAPPED! by the Cel-Ray

Tonight I grabbed some take-out from our local eatery, Amie and bought their eggplant parmesan and meat loaf for dinner for Emily and me. With each visit I am feeling more and more fortunate to have this restaurant literally next door to us. Click here for a review of the place. I had fallen in love with Lake Harriet Pizza and forgot just how good a home-cooked meal tastes. I even bought a couple roasted pepper and carmalized onion knishes to top it off. Damn, that was a satisfying meal.

Anyway, as they were assembling my order, I looked in the soda case and thought I'd buy a Diet Coke for the W-I-F-E and then I looked for a drink for myself. I saw a green Dr. Brown's can labled blah blah-ray and figured it was all-natural lemon-lime soda (as if such a thing existed).

Well, you know what's less likely to exist than all-natural, organic pop? Celery Soda, that's what. And that's exactly what I bought. It turns out Cel-Ray isn't short for "100% Organic Lemon-Line Citrus Beverage." Nope. It's just a cute way of saying celery soda. Whoops.


Image from http://www.root-beer.info/others/celray.html


Click here for a very accurate review of what I got myself into, taste-wise. Oddly, this review mentions that this drink is the Nectar of the Jewish Delis. And, what do you know, Amie is a variant of a traditional Jewish deli. What's up with that? I think this sentence from the review sums it up best:

"So try it at least once - buy a can to share among 3 or 4 friends so you can say you drank celery soda then don't buy it again. "

This whole experience reminds of the scene from Cannery Row, when one of the characters, Doc, is driving a long stretch of highway and wonders what a beer milkshake or shrimp ice cream would taste like. Steinbeck could easily have had Doc wondering about celery soda. I've made a beer milkshake (based on the recipe Doc makes up while asking a waitress to make it for him in a small town diner) and now I've accidentally tasted celery soda. I guess all that's left is shrimp ice cream.

A Future Blog Topic

On my side blog, Top Five And Then Some, Joe Theisman came up as I was discussing his career-ending injury. However, Joe is now a commentator for TV; I think he's with ESPN. Anyway, he's kind of annoying, but he has some good takes from time to time. He's most famous as a broadcaster, however, for this gem:

The word "genius" isn't applicable in football. A genius is a guy like Norman Einstein.
-Joe Theisman

I love missteps like this, and sports announcers definitely stumble more than any other journalist group. If I have a free half hour or so, I'll try to compile some more. I feel like the San Francisco Giants used to have (or may still have) a play-by-play guy in the 80s and 90s who was notorious for Yogi Berra type gems on a weekly basis.

And speaking of Yogi, athletes also are very quotable. I remember back when the Spurs stunk in like 1988 and Walter "The Truth" Berry was their best player. He had a few poor shooting nights and when asked what he needed to do get out of his shooting slump he said, "I ain't in no shooting slump. My shots just aren't falling!" Or at least that's how I remember it, or want to remember it.

And there was some basketball player who complained, after a loss, that his team was "too amphibious" on the court. He meant to say ambivalent. This quote is pretty famous and players and coaches from time to time will still joke to sportswriters that they were amphibious on the court. I'll have to look into who said that.

As an aside, I did Google search using the key words "amphibious, ambivalent, and basketball," thinking I'd find a page referencing the quote. The search didn't yield anything except interesting except for a website that lists ten-letter words. Who know all three of my key words had ten letters? Well, who knew, except for the guy who made the list of ten-letter words.

Scary Stuff

And the concept of irony bulldozes its way back onto my blog. Take a look at this article from Salon.com, titled "Keeping dissent invisible". The teaser reads, "How the Secret Service and the White House keep protesters safely out of Bush's sight -- and off TV." Click here to read the story.

According to the report, the Secret Service will force protestors into "Free Speech Zones" whenever President Bush is visiting a city. The irony being that these "Free Speech Zones" are behind chain-linked fences, well out of sight of the President's motorcade and, more importantly, the TV cameras. So I guess that means what the news cameras capture and Bush sees must be the "Speech Free Zone." This sounds like soemthing out of a Vonnegut novel, or 1984.

I hope this story gets legs and makes into the national media, but I'm not holding my breath. As my kindergarten teacher used to always say, "Hope in one hand and shit in the other. See which hand fills up faster."

BEST BLOG EVER!!!!!!!!!!!

Last night, I noticed Emily's deodorant cap boasts, "NO WHITE RESIDUE!" As I was brushing my teeth, I came to realize what was bothering me about this. The all caps proclamation was fine, but what's up with the exclamation point? I would argue that this is the most unnecesarry use of the exclamation point I have ever seen (and believe you me, I've seen plenty of exclamation point abuse!!!!!!!!!!!). I mean, come on, the only text on the entire deodorant cap is "NO WHITE RESIDUE." It's already in capital letters and it's not competing with any other text, boasts, or disclaimers. The emphasis is implied. The exclamation point is pure overkill.

Ever since then, I have been mulling over the following question in my head. Which is abused more:

a) The exclamation point, when used by mediocre writers who know of no other way to score emphasis?

OR

b) Slow-motion climaxes in mediocre sports and action movies?

I just can't decide. I mean, I JUST CAN'T DECIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Only Two More Shopping Hours Left

Until I'm Thirsty-Two!! It was a historical day some 32 years ago when I entered the world and the sleepy town of Urbana, IL. Mad props to my mom and dad for making me the role model for young and old that I assume I am.

My wife is celebrating my birthday weekend by ditching me and going to Florida for four days. In that case, I am going to watch so much freaking baseball and football over the weekend they'll have to surgically remove the beer cozie from my hand and use a blow torch to get the chip bowl off my burgeoning belly. Oh yeah, and an industrial strength power washer might be needed to hose down the place before Emily returns.

Anyway, I've been meaning to post my thoughts on the sadness that was the Twins vs. Yankees playoff series and maybe even touch on Arnold the Governor. But I don't know if I'll get to that. Regardless, now that the Twins are done, I guess I'll be cheering for the Red Sox. Those readers with extraordinary memory and nothing better to do may remember that I listed the Red Sox as favorite team #3 on my side blog, Top Five and Then Some (speaking of having free time).

Okay now I really am off to bed, for the last time in my life as a 31 year-older.