The end of the road.

Scattershooting is no more. To get to the new blog, click here.

Paz

...while wondering what ever happened to Bowser

Commander Ruth Wedster has a pretty good job, as Director of the Chicago Police Academy. The job comes with a driver, a spacious office and more than a few perks. Unfortunately, meeting celebrities is apparently not one of them. Billy Joel and Elton John flew into Midway airport last month, to play Wrigley Field. When the two got off the plane, Wedster was at the bottom of the stairs to greet them. She had arrived at the airport about fifteen minutes earlier, showed her badge and went right out onto the tarmac to meet the plane. One problem: she was not working that day and had no business reason to be there. The department has suspended Commander Wedster, pending investigation. In light of the crack job done by the security folks at Midway, don't you feel safe flying now?...All the proof you will ever need that some people are beautiful, no matter what you do to them -- right here...This just in from the Irony Department: Robin and Louie Starr got into their car at 8am on 19 August of this year and headed to work. Robin is the CEO of the Richmond, Virginia SPCA. When she went back to her car at around noon, to go to lunch, she found Louie dead in the car. Louie was her 16 year-old blind, deaf dog, who she had left inside, with the windows rolled up. She still has her job, but we wouldn't count on that remaining the case...In other dog-related news, the drama that has played out in the city of Philadelphia since the Eagles signed Michael Vick played out on a much smaller scale than was expected at the Eagles/Jaguars game last Thursday night, as only a few dozen protesters showed up at Lincoln Field. Guess it's preseason for PETA, too...Well, we introduced a new feature, the vintage album review, in the last post. But we got to thinking, how do we differentiate between one "great" album and another? One "bad" one from another? We decided we have to have a ranking system of some sort. So we started listing the things that we feel make an album good or bad, then weighted them to emphasize the categories that have more bearing on overall quality. What we ended up with are 8 categories, totaling 50 potential points. To get to a five-star system, we total the points from each category and divide the total by 5. The categories:

~Music Quality 5 points -This is self-explanatory.

~Lyric Quality 5 points -Although there is no point deduction for instrumentals.

~Authorship* 4 points -Did they write their own stuff?
*There are two exceptions to this. First, remakes. Second, the Sinatra Exception. In short, if you don't write your own stuff, you better sing or play the hell out of it if you expect to get any points here.

~Production Value 3 points -Does it sound like they had a plan going into the studio or is it just a bunch of songs thrown together? Is the sound quality good? Is there any unintentional bleeding or feedback? Allowances are made for production styles. For instance, if they were going for a rough, unfinished sound, then they followed through with their plan and get the points. Also, greatest hits compilations get some leeway for not sounding like all the material belongs on the same album.

~Packaging 2 points -Did they include lyrics? Interesting liner notes? Some pictures? Or did they just throw the LP in a plain white sleeve and ship it out? Bear in mind, the albums we will be reviewing are from our digitally-converted vinyl collection, so by definition, are predominantly pre-1990, so there was no internet. If the lyrics weren't included in the packaging, you had to sit there and write them out as you listened. And yes, we did just that.

~First Blush 2 points -What did we think when we first heard the material?

~Aging 3 points -How does the album sound, some 20+ years later? Now, sounding as if an album is clearly from a certain era is fine; what we're looking at here is whether the material seems stale. Whether it could be played in public, without irony or shame.

~Videos 1 point -We went back and forth on this. On the one hand, videos are not part of the album and should not factor into a review. On the other though, we defy you to listen to "Stuck with You" and not think of Huey Lewis on a beach or "Keeping the Faith" and not visualize Billy Joel in court. Most of the albums we'll be reviewing are going to be from the '80's. In the '80's, Mtv ruled. So we have to factor it in. If no videos were made for an album, then we're not going to withhold a point but if videos were made, it's a simple up/down vote: either they helped or harmed the overall album experience.

If an album maxes out in all categories, it gets all 50 points, which, after the math, equates to five stars.

Based on this criteria, last week's selection, Robert Palmer's Riptide scored as such:

Music: 4 (of 5)
Lyrics: 3 (of 5)
Authorship: 2 (of 4)
Production: 3 (of 3)
Packaging: 1 (of 2)
First Blush: 2 (of 2)
Aging: 3 (of 3)
Videos: 1 (of 1)
TOTAL: 19(of 50)
Stars: 3.8 (of 5)

This week's Vintage Album Review

Journey
Raised on Radio
1986

Track Listing:
-Girl Can't Help It (3:50)*
-Positive Touch (4:16)
-Suzanne (3:38)*
-Be Good to Yourself (3:51)*
-Once You Love Somebody (4:40)
-Happy to Give (3:49)
-Raised on Radio (3:49)
-I'll Be Alright Without You (4:49)*
-It Could Have Been You (3:37)
-The Eyes of a Woman (4:32)
-Why Can't This Night Go on Forever (3:43)*
* - singles

What in the hell happened in the studio when this album was made? David Letterman had a line once, regarding the Buffalo Bills losing four Super Bowls in the 1990's, that basically speculated that head coach Marv Levy's halftime speech consisted of, "ok, now let's get out there and start sucking!" This sounds like a Levy-produced album. Listening to it, it's almost as if the songs were placed on the LP in the order they were recorded and, after side one was done, Steve Perry, who gets a Producer "credit" for this train wreck, stood up and announced, "that's it, I'm taking over. Now I need you all to give me your testicles."

Raised on Radio start off solidly enough, with Jonathan Cain's keyboards giving way to Neal Shon's guitar and Perry's belting voice, resulting in a loaded first side, containing hits Girl Can't Help It, Be Good to Yourself and Suzanne, the lattest of which remains our favorite Journey song. Even the unreleased cuts were strong, with Positive Touch featuring solid work from Cain and Once You Love Somebody sounding like an updated, if poor-man's Send Her My Love.

But then the wheels fall off. Some people say you can buy one Journey album and pretty much get the entirety of their versatility. In this case, you can buy one song from the second half of this album and you've got the whole thing. Other than a failed attempt at nostalgia on the title cut, the last six songs on this album are like variations on a theme. Unfortunately, that theme is not very interesting. Drawn-out ballads, sappy lyrics and formulatic, start-slow-and-quiet-and-end-in-a-crescendo-of-blaring-guitars-and-Perry's-yelping production make the rest of this album a sheer beating to listen to.

And history has not been kind. While most of the singles have held up, the unreleased material has only gotten worse. There is no reason to purchase this album, as all of the salvageable material is available on Greatest Hits. It's clear in listening to Raised on Radio that Perry was moving in a different direction than the rest of the band, and his lack of success since is all the evidence needed to see that that direction was a fatal blow to Journey.

What started out as a crisp, update to the Journey sound quickly and irrevocably devolved into a death knell for one of the most popular bands of the 1980's.

Music: 2 (of 5)
Lyrics: 2 (of 5)
Authorship: 4 (of 4)
Production: 1 (of 3)
Packaging: 1 (of 2) Good liner notes and content, but no lyrics.
First Blush: 2 (of 2)
Aging: 2 (of 3)
Videos: 0 (of 1) Formulatic live videos, with studio track overlays.
TOTAL: 14
Stars: 2.8

All things good and bad eventually come to an end and Scattershooting is no exception. When we first started this blog, back before such a thing as a blog existed, we would scrabble together various oddities, interests and news items and e-mail them to our friends. We shamelessly copped the format, name and even, occasionally (ah, [fill in recently dead guy], we hardly knew ye), the verbiage, of former Dallas Morning News columnist Blackie Sherrod's excellent column. Blackie was retiring around the time we started up and we thought it a nice, if lazy, tribute. Through the years, we've considered changing things up, but we like some of the basic elements of what we do and didn't want to lose them. We like having a person as the subject of the post and the challenge of working them in to the body of it. We like rapid-fire blurbs, covering as many topics as possible in the shortest period of time. So while we wanted to keep many of the elements, doing so without seeming like a cheap knock-off of the original was difficult. So we kept it going. Over the last several months though, we've felt the format has run its course. First, technology has caught up to us. When we pick a subject for the title of each post, we typically hit up Google images for a picture of them. And if we truly are, "wondering what ever happened to...", then we simply Google them and find out. Whereas when we first started, we would occasionally get word from a reader that they had ferreted out a target or two, it doesn't happen anymore. Everything is available right here on the internet. So the tag line simply doesn't make sense anymore. Second, our writing style has evolved somewhat. While we still throw out some one-liners, our postings are tending to be longer. There's not as much scattershooting happening. Our aim is getting more focused. So we had pretty much decided to shut this thing down, but were wondering when the right time would be. Should we wait for Sherrod to die? Stop at 100 posts? Wait for some other nice, clean breaking point? Well, in the end, what we realized is that sometimes it's just time. So with this post, we retire Scattreshooting. It has served us well and it's been a really fun blog to write. We can only hope it's been half as enjoyable to read.

This doesn't mean you're rid of us (me). With our next post, we'll be introducing a new format. We'll be keeping what works, getting rid of what doesn't and hopefully producing a better, more enjoyable, more readable blog. We'll still name the posting after a person of focus and we'll still have a section for rapid-fire postings. We'll still speak in the first-person plural (sorry, Waldo) and we'll still publish the annual NBA Preseason Spectacular. But we'll also be adding some new features and changing the layout to one we hope is reader-friendly. So we bid Scattershooting a fond farewell.

We hardly knew ye.

Paz

...while wondering what ever happened to Susie Verrico

OK, so we've pretty much always believed that Rick Pitino was a douche. Now it's been confirmed. When the story of Pitino being extorted first broke, we were on Hairboy's side. After all, a woman tried to get him to pay money to keep their affair private and he responded, in essence, "screw you -- I'll go public. AND press charges on your ass. Atta boy. Now the other shoe falls, though. Turns out Pitino met this waitress, had sex with her in the restaurant, then another time at her place. Knocked her up. Paid for an abortion. Then went home to his wife and five kids. So whereas we were giving him credit for standing up for what was right, turns out Rick was just trying to save some jing. Nice to know your wallet is more worth protecting than your family. Class...At the opposite end of the spectrum, Man of the Week this go 'round goes Walt Staton, of Arizona. Staton was recently convicted of "knowingly littering". This enhanced charge was filed after he refused to pay a fine for simply littering. The litter? Water bottles to keep immigrants from dying in the dessert. Staton is a member of No More Deaths, a group dedicated to providing humanitarian aid to those traversing the US/Mexico border, where would-be immigrants routinely die of dehydration. While the government said humanitarian efforts are fine, they feel Staton was not providing aid, but instead, "protesting the immigration policies of the United States, and aiding those that enter illegally into the United States." How did they deduce this, you may ask? The proof, prosecutors said was right there on the bottles, where Staton had scrawled, "buena suerte", or good luck, in Spanish. Really? C'mon, Arizona. The guy was not providing maps and vehicles, he wasn't smuggling folks in his gas tank. Yes, by definition, the people who drink the water are illegal aliens. But have we really devolved to the point where we would rather let a human being die in the dessert, as opposed to just picking them up and sending them back or -- God forbid -- them getting away with it and getting the honor of washing our dishes, sweeping our floors and taking the jobs we don't want -- for shit pay? Illegal or not, no one deserves to die like that. And no one should be convicted of a crime for trying to save lives...We smell a backroom deal here. Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed Al Megrahi was convicted in 2001 of being involved in the bombing of Pan Am Flight 103, which exploded over Lockerbie, Scotland on 21 December 1988, killing all 259 aboard and another 11 on the ground. He was sentenced to life imprisonment which, in this particular case, made him eligible for parole after 27 years. Megrah served only 8 1/2 years of that sentence, before being released last week, on compassionate grounds. Seems the poor 'lil terrorist has a case of terminal prostate cancer and is expected to die within 90 days. And? Why not let his ass die in prison? He showed no compassion to the 270 people he killed. And it's not like the guy didn't roam free for another 13 years before being arrested in the first place. But still, we're not advocating torturing the guy or withholding medical care. Not at all. Give him a Koran, some morphine and let him sit in his cell and get right with Allah, so he can score his 70 virgins. But no way in hell do you let that fucker out until he is as dead as his victims. But yet the Scottish government did just that. And to add insult to injury, Christine Graham SNP, MSP (Scottish Nationalist Party, Member of Scottish Parliament) had this to say: "compassionate release is just not only for Mr Megrahi but the victims' families." Wow. And you thought Palin was an idiot. Did she actually ask the victims' families how they felt or was she just really, really high that day? Either way, hopefully the electorate will be sending Ms. Graham packing come next election day. Now, to be fair, Scottish law does allow a prisoner to apply for compassionate release if he or she has less than three months to live. There is nothing that decrees the request be granted. But surely, if a convicted terrorist was freed on this basis, it must be common occurrance, right? Nope. According to Times of London research, between 60 and 100 criminals die of natural causes in Scottish prisons each year. So, taking the low number, that means that in the last five years, at least 300 prisoners have died. 23 have been released. Seven others have applied but been rejected. So either there are six dudes who did something worse than killing 270 people and miraculously failed to make the news for it, or there is another factor at play. Couldn't be that Libya is the UK's largest supplier of oil, could it? And surely the fact that BP (that's British Petroleum) and Shell (also owned by -- guess who) are invested up to their arses in Lybia, which owns the larges oil and gas reserves in Africa, has absolutely nothing to do with it. Right? Don't be fooled by England's Pontius Pilate act. Although Scotland does indeed have an autonomous parliament and court system, when the deed got done and Megrah was released, it was Queen Elizabeth II, not Scottish First Minister Alex Salmond to whom a letter of gratitude was addressed. A letter penned by none other than Muammar Gaddafi. Mel Gibson would be appalled...So Mike Vick is back in the NFL, with the Philadelphia Eagles. We can see people are not happy. But we wonder how many protesters will be at the Cleveland Browns' first game in 2011, when Donte Stallworth returns from his one-year suspension for killing a guy. Yes -- KILLING a guy. While driving drunk. Look, we love Rover as much as the next guy, but let's get some perspective here, folks. And let's either get rid of everyone who beats their wife, drives drunk, fights dogs or commits any other offense of moral terpitude, or in the alternative make sure that our punishments for crimes against people are at the very least as harsh as those against animals. And our treatment of offenders is equal. Bottom line is, Vick did his time, paid his debt to society and is free to resume his chosen career. There is a very easy way to protest -- turn the TV off whenever the Birds play -- even when they play your favorite team. If you do not, and you rant about Michael Vick's signing being a travesty -- you are a hypocrite...Don't look now, but there have been no celebrity deaths this week...Danny Granger, of the Indiana Pacers, wins our Athlete Crib award for 2009. No further entries required. Dude is building a Batcave. How could anyone beat that? Unfortunately, New Mexico state building code forbids the addition of an underground entrance. Granger has files for a variance. We don't make this stuff up...Looks like the You're Going to Hell and Will Not Have to Wait in Line Award also has an early no-way-to-lose-the-lead winner as well. We give you Aurelio Vallerillo-Sanchez, 39, of Omaha, Nebraska. Aurelio stole a painting of the Virgin Mary. From a church. To pay for an abortion. For a 14 year old. He was accused of raping. Welcome to Hell, Aurelio. Step right in...We're still a little ways away from our annual NBA Preseason Spectacular, but we can't help but think Orlando Magic forward Marcin Gortat has a lock on Worst Offseason, Player (Danny Granger's inability to get an underground entrance to his Batcave notwithstanding). Gortat, entering the offseason as a restricted free agent, signed an offer sheet with the Dallas Mavericks. By all accounts, Orlando would not match the offer. Which of course means they did. And Gortat had to remain with the Magic. Playing behind Dwight Howard. And recently-acquired Brandon Bass. But at least he scored a huge endorsement deal with Reebok. Yeah, about that. Seems that tattoo he just got -- yeah, that image is used by a competitor you just may have heard of. I'm Marcin Gortat. FML...We've been fairly silent on the raging healthcare debate. And while we don't pretend to know the answer, we do know people are being idiots on both sides. We guarantee you, you will not wait six months to see a doctor. We also guarantee you the other side is also lying when they promise you will be seeing a drastic reduction in costs, paired with exponential increases in service. The bottom line is that we already have socialized medicine -- we are already paying for people with no insurance. If the government can find a way to fund and manage it properly, we're ok with that. Because neither of the extremes needs to win this argument. For some interesting statistics regarding nationalized medicine, check out Friend of the Blog Waldo's Fisty Fisty Monkey Chan, here...and finally, while we've dabbled in movie reviewing, book reviewing and music reviewing here, we've never really followed through. We've post a couple of reviews then kind of fizzled out. This is primarily because there are lots of other people, on lots of other blogs, who do these things much better than we do. So we stop doing it. And invariably, the one or two people who actually liked the feature gives us grief over it. So we have a solution. We are in the process of converting our vinyl music library over to digital. Being vinyl, the overwhelming majority of these albums are from the 1980's. Not too many guys out there reviewing 20 year-old albums. So, starting with this post, and continuing until we either run out of material or you beg us to stop, we'll review an album we actually at one time owned. Now, to save ourselves the embarrassment sure to come when we reveal some of those selections (and the fact that we actually bought it again, 20 years later on iTunes), we'll start with something palatable, that we do not think will incur your scorn.

Robert Palmer
Riptide
1985

Track Listing:
-Riptide (2:27)
-Hyperactive (5:10)(single)
-Addicted to Love (6:04)(single)
-Trick Bag (3:03)
-Get it Through to Your Heart (2:51)
-I Didn't Mean to Turn You On (3:45)(single)
-Flesh Wound (3:46)
-Discipline of Love (6:09)(single)
-Riptide (Reprise) (2:06)

This is the album that introduced the world to these ladies. For that reason alone, Riptide was a smashing success. But what gives this album its appeal is that, where your typical 80's album would contain three hits, two passable tunes and a side of filler, Palmer dispensed with all that and turned in a lean, 35-minute, eight-song set that is devoid of "what the hell is THIS doing on here" tracks. Opening with the title cut, a mellow number that contrasts beautifully with most of the rest of the LP, he dives right into the two biggest hits of the album, Hyperactive and Addicted to Love. He shows his supressed crooner side, tossing in a decent ballad, in Get it Through Your Heart and does a terrific remake of Cherelle's I Didn't Mean to Turn You On. As this album came on the tail of his Power Station diversion, its influences are heard thorughout, (on Flesh Wound and Discipline of Love, in particular). The album concludes with a reprise of the title cut. It is probably the lack of needless filler that makes this album so enjoyable today. Other than the occasional slip into oversynthasization, most notably on Trick Bag, the album sounds remarkably non-dated, 24 years later. Overall, Riptide is an excellent example of many of the things that were right with music at the time of its recording -- and every bit the contrast to so much that was wrong.

Until next time,
Paz

ps: Who is Susie Verrico? If you were a heterosexual male or lesbian female in the late 1980's, you may want to stop reading here. Still with us? Cool. She was the keyboard player in the Robert Palmer videos. Click on her name above and see what she looks like now. ... Yeah, we kinda killed that for ya, didn't we?

Turning 40, glancing back and charging forward.

So it was Ash Wednesday, 25 February and I was trying to decide what I was going to give up for Lent. I looked down at my gut and thought, “this is not good”. So I gave up sodas. And fast foods. I figured this served kind of a dual purpose: I was sacrificing some of the things I loved, and would offer up a little prayer every time I was tempted, and I was doing something good for my body.

In my “younger days” I was an avid bicyclist. So a few weeks into Lent, I bought a bike and started incorporating it into my daily commute to work. So what started as a Lenten observance, evolved into G4-0, a comprehensive plan to hit the ground running when I turned 40.


50 days out, I started listing the things I have learned in my first 40 years, posting them on my Facebook page. With a few exceptions, I did not pre-write the list. I took some time each day to reflect on things and wrote what came to mind. What follows is that list of the things I have learned, edited for clarity and to eliminate some redundancy.


I then started on a list of 50 things I want to accomplish before I turn 50.


But first, the push to 40.


When I set out on this final sprint to my 40th birthday, I set a few goals: I wanted to put 1000 miles on the bicycle; I wanted to turn 40 in the same spot I turned 30, with my daughter; I wanted to get down to the weight I was on my 30th birthday – 175 pounds.


The odometer on my bike reads 726.42 miles today, my 40th birthday. While I did not reach the 1000 mark, I feel better than I have in years and ride between 15 and 20 miles daily. I find a peace on my bike that had long been missing from my life and the reintroduction of this activity has been a great addition to my daily routine.


KB and I showed up at the Hotel Adolphus last night at around 11:00. I introduced her to Phil the bell captain, who promptly asked about Chelsea. Phil remembers that night ten years ago, me in a tux, Chelsea in a white dress and the dance that brought me into my 30’s. I told him I didn’t know if she’d be showing. We all wander the wilderness at some point in our life. Chelsea’s time is now. At midnight, KB and I toasted 40 and we took a picture where I had a decade earlier. Chelsea did not show.


I weighed 227 pounds on 25 February, and looked like this. I turned 40 weighing 207 pounds, and this is the pic of KB and me from the Adolphus. I still have a few pounds to lose, but never thought 175 was realistic anyway. The gut still needs to go, but I have more energy than I have had in years and I just feel healthier. PX90, anyone?


So – here are 50 of the things I have learned in my first 40 years:


- I am a lot better off than many and should take time daily to be thankful for all I have.


- Life really is a marathon and nothing truly valuable is achieved with ease. (I am reminded of this daily as a kid zooms past me about a mile or so into my daily bike ride to work, only to have me breeze past his wheezing 23 year-old ass halfway up the final hill to the train station. This is further reinforced about a quarter-mile up said hill, as I am overtaken by a grinning 52 year-old.)


- It is a beautiful thing when the rabbit lives.


- Although he’s been gone almost 24 years, I still rely on my father’s advice, on a regular basis.


- The good old days weren’t always good and tomorrow ain’t as bad as it seems.


- The day I fail to learn something is the day they put me in the ground.


- While sometimes it is indeed better to ask forgiveness later as opposed to permission now, that’s not a card that should be played too often.


- One should be judicious in the use of the words, “never”, “always” and “forever.


- I am neither saint nor sinner, rather a mixture of both – just like everyone else.


- Downtime is to be cherished.


- Going to mass always makes me feel better.


- Effexor is my friend.


- More often than not, the nuns were right.


- I am the sum of all the decisions I have made, conscious or not, and any failure to embrace that – to have regrets of any kind – is to regret my essential self.


- Karma is real. And the bitch does not play.


- Sometimes people mistreat others simply because they can. I should not take this personally.


- The United States is a beautiful country, best seen via road trip.


- Life rarely goes as planned but the outcome is often better than planned.


- The liver is evil and must occasionally be punished.


- When the liver is punished, the rest of the body comes to its defense. The results, when in full effect the next morning, are not pretty.


- The only difference between a seven second-old zygote and a seven decade-old man is that they are at a different point on the same life cycle. To kill either against his will, not in defense of one’s own life or to prevent a greater evil, is murder.


- It is wise to date a woman who is smarter, better-looking and funnier than one’s self.


- One should always value love over money, actions over words and vodka over their oj.


- People will often believe what they are predisposed to believe. This being the case, attention is better focused on one’s actions than on how others will perceive them.


- What I wear, where I sit and proper performance of pregame rituals truly do affect the outcome of games.


- Chicks dig the long ball.


- Regardless of quality, construction or accouterments, nothing feels better than one’s own bed.


- The phrase “Defending World Series Champion Philadelphia Phillies” never gets old.


- True greatness is a rare thing and I am blessed to have seen Michael Jordan, Frank Sinatra and Pope John Paul II do their thing, in person.


- Bob Dylan nailed it when he sang, “your sons and your daughters are beyond your control”.


- The things that hit hardest, good and bad, you rarely see coming.


- Some of my best thinking is done on a bicycle.


- I can handle pretty much whatever life throws at me. As an aside, in case you are reading this, God – please do not interpret that as some sort of challenge to your ability to infuse my life with chaos. You don’t need to prove a point, cool?


- Ice Cream makes the world a happier place.


- Real friends – call them at 3:00 in the morning because the shit just hit the fan friends – are a rare commodity and I have been blessed with more of then than my character could ever warrant.


- “Please” and “Thank You” still go a long way. Thanks, mom.


- A 1983 Ford Fairmont Futura can, in fact, serve as an all-terrain vehicle; motorcycling on a beach is not nearly as easy as it looks in the movies; and a trolling motor is damned-near indestructible.


- I get really bitchy when the mercury rises above 90.


- I may never speak fluent Venusian.


- While I may never have the relationship with my siblings that I’d like to and while that is mostly my fault – it is never too late to try.


- For every heart you break you pay a price.


- You pay for your raising.


- Everybody has a soul they can control or compromise.


- While black and white are neat and clean, life is lived amongst the shades of grey.


- When it comes to life, love and all they entail, you only need to be right once.


- Pruned fingers, red eyes and a chlorinated nasal system are signs of a day well-spent.


- A fairly good read on my life, beliefs and mindset can be obtained by listening to seven Billy Joel songs:


Prelude/Angry Young Man
Big Man on Mulberry Street
I Go to Extremes
Where’s the Orchestra
No Man’s Land
The River of Dreams
Shades of Grey



- I am so ready for the second half of my life.


So where to now?


Well, I started thinking about some of the things I’d like to do in the next ten years, then started breaking them down into categories, like charitable, health and wellness, spiritual and personal accomplishment. The list grew and eventually I had 40 things on the list. I am going to leave the last ten slots open, for just as I have grown and evolved in each of my 40 years, I expect the next ten to be no different. I can add the remaining goals as I go, as my outlook and desires change too. But for now, here’s what I’d like to accomplish in the next ten years, sorted alphabetically:


1. Amass any combination of 5000 hours or $5000 donated to charity.


2. Attend 10 Dallas Maverick road games.


3. Attend 1000 masses. (yes, that is my church)


4. Attend an opera.


5. Be alive on 7 August in each of the next ten years.


6. Coach a little league baseball team.


7. Compete – and finish better than last in – the Hotter ‘n Hell Hundred (mile) bicycle race.


8. Complete the digital restoration of my vinyl album collection.


9. Donate 25 pints of blood. (not all at once)


10. Get married.


11. Get published.


12. Go on ten spiritual retreats.


13. Go SCUBA diving.


14. Have a clean credit report.


15. Have my lifetime ban from The Grapevine Bar in Dallas, Texas rescinded.


16. If medically cleared, donate either a kidney or half my liver to someone who would die without it.


17. Kiss in the rain.


18. Learn how to play Billy Joel’s Prelude/Angry Young Man on the piano.


19. Learn how to sail.


20. Learn to read and write in Spanish, as I do the former poorly and the latter not at all.


21. Learn to read music.


22. Own a new motorcycle.


23. Own the Top Ten best selling music albums of all time (as of 7 August 2009).


24. Pay off all my personal debt.


25. Put 10,000 miles on my bicycle.


26. Read the Bible, the Koran and the Bhagwat Gita in their entirety.


27. Read the Top-Ten best-selling books of all time (as of 7 August 2009).


28. Read War and Peace. In the original Russian. OK, I made that last part up.


29. Remain married (if #10 is achieved).


30. Remember – and acknowledge – over 90% of family birthdays and anniversaries.


31. Ride a bicycle from downtown Dallas to downtown Ft. Worth, Texas.


32. Rope a calf.


33. See the AFI’s Top-Ten movies of all time (as of 7 August 2009)


34. See the 18 United States I have not yet been to.


35. Skydive.


36. Traverse a state by bicycle, 50 mile minimum. (Sorry Delaware, Rhode Island, et al.)


37. Turn 50 in the place I turned 30 and 40.


38. Visit Belfast.


39. Visit Jerusalem.


40. Visit Vatican City.


41. – 50. Future development.


Thanks for being on this journey with me. I don’t thank the people in my life – even in the smallest of roles – nearly enough for being there and helping make me who I am.


Keep the Faith,
-Gary
7 August 2009

Some things were perfectly clear,
seen with the vision of youth
No doubts and nothing to fear,
I claimed the corner on truth

These days it's harder to say
I know what I'm fighting for
My faith is falling away
I'm not that sure anymore

Shades of grey wherever I go
The more I find out the less that I know
Black and white is how it should be
But shades of grey are the colors I see

Once there were trenches and walls
and one point of every view
Fight 'til the other man falls
Kill him before he kills you

These days the edges are blurred,
I'm old and tired of war
I hear the other man's words
I'm not that sure anymore

Shades of grey are all that I find
When I look to the enemy line
Black and white was so easy for me
But shades of grey are the colors I see

Now with the wisdom of years
I try to reason things out
And the only people I fear
are those who never have doubts

Save us all from arrogant men,
and all the causes they're for
I won't be righteous again
I'm not that sure anymore

Shades of grey are all that I find
when I look to the enemy line
There ain't no rainbows shining on me
Shades of grey are the colours I see

Shades of grey wherever I go
The more I find out the less that I know
There ain't no rainbows shining on me
Shades of grey are the colors I see

--B. Joel, 1994

...while wondering what ever happened to Lee Majors

We live in an idiotic country. How is it that we have people protesting in the streets over election discrepancies in Iran, yet not a soul took to the streets in 2000? Regardless of the outcome, which may very well have been exactly the same, how in the hell can the same people who did not care enough to riot when votes were knowingly, intentionally -- and allegedly legally -- not counted in a presidential election in this country muster the give a damn to protest the happenings on the other side of the world. Fucking posers...Ed, Farrah, we hardly knew ye...The Washington Wizards have cemented their place as the most incompetent front office in the NBA (sorry, Clips). If it wasn't bad enough that they hired Flip "CBA" Saunders as head coach, they went an incredible step further this week when they turned down an opportunity to acquire Amare Stoudamire, because they did not want to part with -- Caron Butler. Dude -- we'd rather have Lerch the Butler than that scrub, and the Wiz turned down a legitimate Top-Ten NBA talent. Ridiculous...Best line of the Mark Sanford saga submitted by loyal reader Lydia, who said, "the staff misunderstood him: he didn't say he was, "hiking the Appalachian Trail"; he said he was, "catching some Argentinian tail". Greatness...Speaking of greatness, Shaq + LBJ = Larry O'Brien...This just in from the Department of Excellent Marketing Strategy: Windows 7 has been priced at $49 for the home version ($99 for Professional), which is not only cheaper than the flawed Vista, but XP as well. "I am intelligently priced and I am a pc-o.s."...Idiot sentencing month is coming to an end and none too soon. June has seen the following sentences: Cleveland Browns WR Donte Stallworth got 30 days for running a guy over -- while drunk (Stallworth, not the guy). David Earls, of Oklahoma got 20 years, 19 of which were suspended, for molesting a 4 year-old girl. With time served, he will be out in September. Lee Monroe Crider, was convicted in California of stealing a bicycle from Lance Armstrong. The bike was subsequently returned. He got 3 years in prison. The rundown (no pun intended): Kill someone with your car while driving drunk, 30 days; Ass-rape a 4 year-old, 1 year; Steal and return a bicycle, 3 years. We live in an idiotic country.

Until next time,
Paz

...while wondering what ever happened to Glenn Hubbard

How do you put into words the loss of one whose words were so transcendent?

From the time I was a little kid, playing stickball on Lawrence Street, I'd swing my bat and hear the voice of Harry Kalas calling my trot around the ersatz bases. I'd dig in in front of the Procopio's house, middle of the street, awaiting Billy Scheeler's pitch; he'd send it on one hop and I'd swing, making perfect contact, broomstick to tennis ball and, every once in a while, (once in a great while), the hit would be perfect, launching the ball up the half-block, through the trees, over Fabio Incolingo's head and across Rockland Street, onto the porch roof of Victor Cobo's house. A home run. And in my mind, Harry Kalas would be calling the whole thing: "swing and a long drive, deep left center field, going a way back....at the track...and that ball is....OUTTA HERE!". I'd step on the curb to my right, first base, the chalk-drawn second base in the middle of the street, in front of the Heeneans', the car mirror designated as third, and back home, high-fiving Johnny Collins. In my neighborhood, baseball was life. I've mentioned before on these pages how baseball was our real calendar: Spring Training meant school was almost over. The All-Star Game meant summer was at its midway point. The playoff chase meant a return to school. And the World Series meant the holidays were about to come, then that long period of drudgery and schoolwork until the first crack of the springtime bat brought the neighborhood back to life. And all the while, the voice of Harry Kalas told the tale of it all.

Baseball announcers are unlike those of any other sport. Because of the pace of the game and the number of games in a season, the announcer forms a relationship with his listeners that just doesn't happen with football or basketball or hockey. I was spoiled growing up a Phillies fan. We were always in the playoffs (or at least it seemed we were); in Rich "Whitey"Ashburn and Harry Kalas I was treated to the best announcers in the game; I got to watch Steve Carlton, Mike Schmidt and Larry Bowa (and Gene Garber too) every night. It was incredible. When my family moved away in the summer of 1984 and I was relegated to listening to the attrocity that was Skip Carey calling a baseball game, I realized what I had lost. Not only was I watching Glenn Hubbard, Pascual Perez and the way-past-his-prime Chris Chambliss -- I was also forced to watch them while listening to a horrid broadcast. For as great as Harry Kalas was with his words, he and Whitey also knew when to shut the hell up and let me watch the game. To give it time to breathe, like a fine wine. Watching TBS Braves broadcasts, and just about every other game since I moved away from Philadelphia, has been like observing a first date, with both people so nervous and afraid of silence, that they babble on incessantly instead of just letting things happen. So while the great calls, "...fair or foul....it is a.....foooooouuuulll ball", "swing and a miss he struck him ouuuut", are the first things that come to mind, it was the entire call that was greatness. No flourishes, no gimmicks. Just good baseball knowledge paired with a voice from the gods. Kalas would call a Joe Morgan home run he same way he would one by Garry Maddox. He was a true baseball fan and would make the play exciting, no matter who made it. A Phillies fan to the core, he was no homer. He taught me to appreciate greatness, no matter the uniform it came in.

During last year's World Series, it hit me how much Harry Kalas permeates the Phillies franchise. Cole Hammels was being interviewed and they asked him about how winning the series would feel. He replied, "well, we keep hearing about 1980 and 1993 and Michael Jack Schmidt...I mean Mike Schmidt, and..." And I smiled. Because "Michael Jack Schmidt", that was all Harry. I have quoted that myself in one of my favorite postings, ...what ever happened to Gene Garber, in which I wrote about my first trip to Dodger Stadium.

Much has changed about baseball. Much of it will never be the same. And we all die in the end, of course. But more and more as I get older, I am thankful for my raising. For my friends on Lawrence Street; for my education at Incarnation; for the family I have and the city I grew up in. I'm glad Harry Kalas was a part of my childhood. And I hope he and Whitey putting together a legends pickup game on the other side -- and they give Fidrych the start.
Keep the Faith, Harry. You went out on top.


________________________________________________


The regular season has ended and it's time for playoff basketball. Before we look ahead and make our predictions, let's see how close we came on calling the field.

In the Eastern Conference, we went 6 for 8, missing only on Chicago and Miami (Having picked NYK and the Nets). Out West, we correctly predicted seven of the eight playoff teams, having picked Phoenix to make it, while leaving the Rockets out. All in all, not a bad outcome. So now what happens? Well...

EASTERN CONFERENCE

(1) Cleveland Cavaliers vs (8) Detroit Pistons

The worm has turned. Just as MJ thrashed the Pistons to stake his claim as the greatest player on Earth, so shall LeBron James lead his Cavaliers past the former Champions. The Pistons' run of Conference Finals appearances stops at four.

Cavaliers in 4

(2) Boston Celtics vs (7) Chicago Bulls

KG, no KG, doesn't really matter. Boston's just way too good for the Bulls to hang with. Chicago may steal a game and the playoff debut of Derrick Rose will be fun to watch. In the end though, this will not be much of a series.

Celtics in 5

(3) Orlando Magic at (6) Philadelphia 76'ers

Orlando's rolling; Philly is limping. Again, this will not be a very good series. If he can make this a long series, Tony DiLeo may get to keep his job as a permanent gig. We don't see that happening.

Magic in 4

(4) Atlanta Hawks vs (5) Miami Heat

Or, "the series nobody gives a damn about". D-Wade is always fun to watch and these two teams are about as evenly-matched as any. Unfortunately, no one cares about the Hawks, even in the ATL. And that's a shame, because they have some crazy-talented guys on their team.

Hawks in 6

WESTERN CONFERENCE

(1) Los Angeles Lakers vs (8) Utah Jazz

We never like to bet against Jerry Sloan. But c'mon. The Jazz will, as always, make this a more interesting series than it looks on paper. When all is said and done though, the Lake Show will roll on.

Lakers in 6

(2) Denver Nuggets vs (7) New Orleans Hornets

Is Tyson Chandler healthy? The answer to that question will determine the winner of this series. The Iverson-for-Billups trade was a stroke of genius, bringing Denver the point guard they have been lacking since the heyday of Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf and Robert Pack. Still, the Bugs are a scary-good team who could catch lightning in a bottle and win the whole thing. We're going to take a chance and put our money on Chandler being healthy and George Karl having another spring implosion.

Hornets in 7

(3) San Antonio Spurs vs (6) Dallas Mavericks

Age and injury are finally taking their toll on the South Texas dynasty. Dallas is just too deep and is playing too well to lose this series. The Spurs are hobbling into the playoffs and will be bounced easier than many would think.

Mavericks in 6

(4) Portland TrailBlazers vs (5) Houston Rockets

The Blazers are the youngest team in the NBA. That will get Houston one win. If that one win is Game 1, this will be a long series. If Portland holds home court and the Rockets don't win until Game 3, the series will end quickly.

TrailBlazers in 6

Looking forward, we have Cleveland over Atlanta, Orlando over Boston and Cleveland coming out of the East. We have L.A. over Portland, New Orleans over Dallas and the Lakers winning the West. Cavs over Lakers in the Finals.

Enjoy!

Until next time,
Paz

And just for the hell of it, we have Bruins over Habs, Rangers over Caps, Devils over 'Canes and Pens over Flyers in Round 1 of the NHL's Eastern Conference Playoffs, with Sharks over Ducks, Red Wings over Blue Jackets, Canucks over Blues and Blackhawks over Flames out west. The reseeding confuses us, so we'll refrain from making second round picks, but suffice it to say we have Wings over Bruins in the Finals.

And finally, the best ribute we have yet to see on Harry Kalas can be seen here.

...while wondering what ever happened to Thelma Goodwin

So Vince Shlomi, the ShamWow guy got arrested in Miami for beating up a prostitute in a South Beach hotel room. His defense? The prostitute bit his tongue while kissing him. Dude -- never kiss a hooker on the mouth! How do you not know this?...Jay Cutler is a bitch. The Denver Broncos' quarterback is peeved that team management spoke with the New England Patriots about a three-way trade in which Denver would ultimately have ended up with a new quarterback, in Matt Cassel, with Cutler being shipped to Tampa Bay. So Cutler went public, pouting and whining and, after not being guearanteed that he will never be traded, decided to skip the team's first meeting of the offseason. Granted the meeting was optional, but as the supposed leader of the team, dude should have been there. Why does this make him a canine of the female persuasion? Well, other than the fact that he has never won a thing, we ask you this: If John Elway was told that the Broncos toyed with trading him, or Troy Aikman the Cowboys, Joe Montana the 'Niners or Jim Kelly the Bills -- would they have pouted? Hell no! They would have spent the next ten years working their asses off to prove how bad a move that would have been and every time their contract came up, they would have reminded the team. And you know what? They would have gotten P.A.I.D. Cutler may have made the 2008 Pro Bowl but ya know what -- Derek Anderson was there in 2007. Look at him now. Grow up, Jay. And while you're at it, grow some male genetalia...So now the levies are failing in Fargo. This may sound crazy -- but. With levies dropping all over the country, and a whole lot of people out of work, and the government spending a lot of money trying to put people back to work, well -- we're just saying...

There's a bluegrass band warming up in The Great Beyond, and it looks like they're down a drummer. When I started this blog, back before it was a blog, when it was just an e-mail sent to a few friends, I blatantly stole the format from Blackie Sherrod, formerly of The Dallas Morning News. But the spirit of the thing has always been Al Johnson. You've seen Al quoted here on occasion, usually when someone meets an unfortunate end. That started one day back in 1986 when someone took a header off Number One Main, in Columbia, South Carolina, landed on Main Street and got hit by a car. The newscaster said the car is what killed the guy, prompting Al to say, "it's just not your day if ya can't jump off a building without getting hit by a damned car." And a legendary line was born. Al is the father of longtime reader Robbie Johnson (Billyrob -- long story). He came into my life at a time when I really needed positive male role models. I was living in a strange state, my father had passed away far too young and I was lost as hell. He's always had a kind word, a friendly smile and a compassionate ear for me. And the patience of Job. Even when I got Billyrob arrested one time, just shy of our high school graduation, Al didn't banish me, as I had expected. Now, this probably had more to do with the trust he had in his son's judgement than any kind of an endorsement of me, but it is appreciated all the same, even to this day. Al has always worked. Always. If he wasn't actually at work, he was in his mad scientist laboratory out in the garage engineering and tooling and electritioning on something or other. He and Ann raised two great kids they can be proud of. And occasionally, Al would load up the drums and do a little playing. Al's late in the game in his fight with cancer, but he has fought the good fight, with his unique brand of pragmatic country wisdom. I am a better man for knowing Al, and I am greatful for the opportunity. The world will be a little less nice without Al. It'll be a little less inviting. And it will be a lot less funny. But as I continue on my journey that I hope ends up in the same place he'll be going, as I follow the chorus of angels, it sure will feel good knowing who's keeping time on the drums for me.
Keep the Faith, Al.
I love you.

...the Association at the Turn, or What Ever Happened to Terry Porter

This weekend past could very well have been the best of the year, for love was in the air. While we flew solo this Cupid Day, we're cool with that, feeling that being with someone just to be with someone is worse than being alone. Besides, we'd only have ended up pissing off our signifigant other, blowing her off for NBA All-Star Saturday Night, which is only the best non-playoff night of the entire season! (ok, except for the part where they try to cram the WNBA down our throat). So we went out for a drink on Valentine's and soaked up the love around us. It really is nice seeing people in love and happy, even if only for a night. When it comes right down to it, our entire lives are fleeting; it's good to see some happiness in our midst. So, with our spirits revived and our heart warmed, we hunkered down for the festivities on TNT...As we sit at the halfway point in the Association, it's time to look back at our predictions and preseason awards and see where we stand. But first, a few items...Idiot of the Week goes to Colorado state senator Chris Romer (D), who has intorduced legislation to offer in-state tuition to illegal aliens because, "there are an awful lot of people in the country illegally who are really struggling to afford a college education." Really? Ya know, there are even more taxpaying legal citizens who are doing the same thing, Chris. How about throwing them a bone? Under Romer's bill, Skatterkid would not be able to get in-state tuition at Colorado State, because she lives in Texas -- unless she moves to (let's be nice and say) Canada, renounces her US citizenship, sneaks back over the border, moves to Colorado and applies. See, that's just not change we can believe in...Enough of the OctoMom. We try to avoid these annoying, sensationalized infotainment stories, but we have to say a few things here: 1) Yes, she's a dumbass, as is the doctor who put the litter in her; 2) Unless you live in California or are planning to move there, not many of your tax dollars will be supporting her and if they are, the amount pales in comparison to the sum wasted in Washington every day, so chill; 3) There's really nothing that can be done, short of placing a legal limit on how many children one can bear. Good luck passing that legislation; 4) She does NOT look like Angelina Jolie. At all. Wrong hair, wrong eye color, wrong cheek bones, wrong entire body. Let it go, folks.

Now onto the NBA at the Turn:



Not too many shocks here. The Cavs are better than we thought, the Pistons worse. Washington and Houston are both going to use injuries again to excuse the fact that they really suck, and The Usual Suspects are at the top. Our original Finals prediction (ORL/N.O.), based on U'F-er were semi tongue-in-cheek, but they looked good for a bit there. Until Jameer Nelson got hurt and George Shinn remembered he's in New Orleans and started the fire sale. The Hornets, we fear, are on the precipice of a long, painful, fiscally-induced slide into mediocrity, while the Magic still appear to be one player away from the upper echelon. Our biggest question from the first half though -- what the hell is going on in Phoenix? That organization looks damned-near Clipperesque in it's collapse.


Onto the review:


First Coach to be Fired
Our Pick: Maurice Cheeks, Philadelphia 76'ers
Actual: P.J. Carlesimo, Oklahoma City Thunder
Comment: Mo and his '83 Championship teammate, Marc Iavaroni of the Memphis Grizzlies were not far behind.

Breakout Season Coming From
Our Pick: Devin Harris, New Jersey Nets
Actual: Harris
Comment: Gone from Dallas less than a season and already an All-Star.

We Give Up On
Our Pick: Josh Howard, Dallas Mavericks
Comment: Still a solid player, he needs a change of scenery badly.

We Still Say He's a Star in the Making
Our Pick: Raymond Felton, Charlotte Bobcats
Comment: Several teams are showing interest in him, but the fact that LB wants to shed him says more.

Best Offseason, Team
Our Pick: Philadelphia 76'ers
Comment: Picking up Elton Brand without having to get rid of any of their core pieces was the coup of the offseason. His failure to mesh very well could have led to a deadline trade, had he not gotten hurt. Either he or Iguodala need to go and the Sixers need to settle on the style of the survivor.

Worst Offseason, Team
Our Pick: Los Angeles Clippers
Comment: They land Baron Davis then lose Elton. Classic Clipperdom. And the season has been worse.


Best Offseason, Fans
Our Pick: Charlotte Bobcats
Comment: Two words -- Larry Brown. The Bobcats are 3 1/2 games out of the 8 seed and have already turned over a good bit of the roster. This franchise is on course for the playoffs next year and some noisemaking the following season.


Worst Offseason, Fans:
Our Pick: Seattle
Comment: Their team sucked, but they were still their team.


Best Offseason Trade
Our Pick: Houston Rockets obtaining Ron Artest for Bobby Jackson and garbage.
Comment: We thought his testicular fortitude would rub off on T-Mac and Yao. We were wrong. The three-way deal that netted the Cleveland Cavaliers Mo Williams was clearly the best offseason deal, in retrospect. (Williams to Cleveland; Damon Jones, Adrian Griffin and Luke Ridnour to Milwaukee; Joe Smith and Desmond Mason to OKC)


Worst Offseason Trade
Our Pick: NYK stealing Cuttino Mobley for Zack Randolph.
Comment: Our favorite Inky/Dougherty guy ended up having a heart condition and retired. So it's still a bad trade, just the other way.


Sam Cassell Award, for he who will bitch the loudest about the contract he voluntarily signed:
Our Pick: Ron Artest, Houston Rockets
Comment: We figured when he figured out hey still sucked, RonRon would go bad. But he hasn't. Yet.


Shawn Bradley Award, for he who signed the most undeserved contract:
Our Pick: Gilbert Arenas, Washington Wizards
Comment: Agent Zero promptly went out and got hurt. When asked about a return this season, Arenas replied, "we're 4-27. What do you think?" Nice.


Penny Hardaway Award, for the most overrated player of his time:
Our Pick: Gilcy McGrenas, Houston Wizards
Comment: Have either T-Mac or Arenas shown you anything to dispute this? Ever?


Rookie of the Year
Our Pick: Derrick Rose, Chicago Bulls
Comment: Dude can ball.


Playoff Teams:
Our Picks, East: Boston, Cleveland, Detroit, Orlando, Philadelphia, Atlanta, New Jersey and New York.
Our Picks, West: LALakers, New Orleans, Denver, Utah, Phoenix, Dallas, San Antonio, Portland.

Comment: Add Miami and lose NYK out east and switch Houston for Phoenix in the West and call it done.


30 Games to go!


Until next time,
Paz


ps: If the Colorado thing pissed you off, don't move to California, Illinois, Kansas, Nebraska, New York, New Mexico, Utah, Washington, Oklahoma or Texas -- they already offer in-state tuition to illegals.