And the monkeys are coming with us!

Among many "best ever" New Year's memories, I think this might be the capper on the perfect night ever, 12-31-02.  Happy 10 Year anniversary to one of the best, unmatchable nights of my life!

True Gangsta. (Or: I'm only drinking Ciroc from now on.)

Yes, I know. It's been out for awhile. And I loved it then. But I had to delve in deeper, like all things I enjoy in life, to a point where it fully consumes my life for a few days. At this point, I'm pretty sure I'll only be drinking Ciroc vodka for the prolonged future.

The commercial features Diddy, of course, Michael K. Williams ("OMAR" from The Wire fame, possibly the best character ever on the best television show ever), Aaron Paul (Jesse from Breaking Bad, just about equally as great as Omar), Frank Vincent (Philly from Sopranos fame, although I think I would have preferred Pauly or Silvio) and a slew of other gorgeous models and popular actors getting sloshed baller-style in Vegas to the backdrop of "Luck Be a Lady" by Frank Sinatra. It's possibly the best concept for an alcohol advertisement ever, edging out Budweiser's "WAAAZZZZAAAAPPP?" guys by a nose.

The 30-second spot:

The full 3-minute mini-movie:

And last but CERTAINLY not least, a 3-minute mini-movie Smooth-off featuring Diddy and Aziz Ansari.

Ciroc, cheers to you for some great advertising. I feel like I owe it to you to drink your product now.

UPDATE:
Check out this sweet interview with Michael K. Williams about the shooting of the commercial. I mean, dude hangs with Nas, Maxwell and French Montana, and apparently some dude named "Berdietz," woopty-wooooo. This story almost feels like a "Chappelle's Show True Story" with Charlie Murphy.

Phil Simms at it again.

During tonight's Pittsburgh Steelers @ Dallas Cowboys game:

"Dick LeBeau has three rules for his defense:

Don't get beat deep
Don't get beat deep
Tackle the pass...catcher...
And
Don't. Get. Beat. Deep."

Phil Simms, ladies and gentlemen.

Fox News vs. R.E.M. (Fox News, you lose again.)

http://www.weeklystandard.com/blogs/rem-asks-fox-news-stop-playing-losing-my-religion-during-dem-convention_651951.html

Apparently, in reaction to the Democrats' resolution to re-adopt the word "God" within their Pledge of Allegiance at the DNC which ellicited 'boos' (not boo-urns) from some of the crowd, FOX News was playing R.E.M.'s smash-80's hit "Losing My Religion" during outros to commercial breaks on Thursday night.

R.E.M. rightfully demanded that FOX News cease and desist using its song, saying, "We have little or no respect for their puff adder brand of reportage. Our music does not belong there."

Conversely, and predictably, FOX fired back at R.E.M. with some complete bullshit reasoning that pretty much has earned them the dreadful reputation they already have. "FOX News Channel's use of an R.E.M. song during Thursday's edition of Fox & Friends was in full accordance with its license agreements with all appropriate parties. Nevertheless, we're always flattered to have this much attention for a song selection and we have R.E.M. was able to satisfy their publicity fix."

Newsflash, FOX News. Actually, there are a few. 1) R.E.M. is huge.  HUGE. They don't need the help of FOX News to bolster their number of records sold or to create publicity. 2) R.E.M. doesn't formally exist as a playing or touring band anymore. Again, why would they want publicity?  They hung it up a year ago, and have no plans to return to creating new music.  3) Shame on you, again, FOX News, for inserting your political and religious messages into your coverage that is supposedly "Fair and Balanced." Seriously.

Disc golfing at High Bridge, July 29-30-31

My "big trip" of the summer was a disc golfing junket in High Bridge, Wisconsin. Way up there by Ashland, the High Bridge recreational complex, or compound or something, housed 11 courses after taking hybrid/mixed courses into account. My friend Dan and I were determined to play as many holes, competitively, as possible. Although the initial over/under was 232.5 holes, it was adjusted to 200 after the first day.

We hit 201 holes for the three-day stretch, including having played every course (except Bear) multiple times, including Gold ("You've Got Gold!") and Granite Ridge by foot and by cart. (It was much more enjoyable by cart, which also marked the first time I've ever disced with a golf cart. Fun.)  Although we played 201 holes, I only have scores for 10 of those 11 rounds. (11 x 18 is still only 198 holes, although the "Blueberry" course, from which our third round I'm missing scores, had a "bonus" 19th hole leading us back to our cabin. 198 + 3 bonus holes = 201, bitches.)  (Note:  all courses and holes played as Par 4s.)

Steve                                          Dan

Wood1:  -6                                Wood1: -10

Blueberry1: -7                            Blueberry1: -7

Gold1:  +13                               Gold1:  +10

Wood2:  -12*                            Wood2:  -8

Granite Ridge1:  E                      Granite Ridge1: +6

Granite Ridge2: -5                      Granite Ridge2: +1

Gold2:  +6                                 Gold2:  +10

Wood3:  -9                                Wood3:  -11

Wood4:  -5                                Wood4:  -12*

Blueberry2:  -7                           Blueberry2:  -2

--------------------                 ------------------------

                    -32                                          -23

*-denotes low personal and overall scores of the weekend

We survived on burgers, dogs, and a steak, but without forks. Yup, steaks on a knife. The campfires were enjoyable though, in addition to general wilderness time. Pretty chill vibes all around.

Everything was rustic, including the overall scoreboard.

There were lots of crazy holes -- rock outcroppings  and treacherous turns and curves. The courses were extremely well maintained and groomed.

A sign on one of the hybrid courses. Blueberry combined with  some Granite Ridge holes to make the "Blueridge" course. We never found the "Blueberry Kush" course though.

Highbridge Hills. Do it.

This was our cabin. Ghetto couch on the porch, campfire, inside breakfast table, fridge, stove, and inflatable matresses and one bed. It was rustic, even a tad dirty, so I'd prepare a little better for next time. Overall though, it got the job done and housed us for 2 nights.

The basket that inspired the controversial "3-and-out" argument. Was it called?  Mark it 8?  These were definitely league games.

The scenery was spectacular.

Hole #2 on Blueberry. The hole was past the tractor, up on top of that rock outcropping. Much longer than it looked. Solid birdie hole, though.

At times it felt like we were on safari.

Hello froggy.

In Cold Blood

I just finished my fifth book of the summer. (Three more to go to attain that ever-dorky goal of having read eight books this summer.) I decided that, after a raunchy trilogy and new young adult book, it was time for a classic with a little more depth.

I liked how Capote beautifully presented the scene, the case, and the murder. I can easily see how film-makers adapted this into a film. (And apparently I have seen this movie, although I can't recall much about it, other than Phillip Seymour Hoffman played Truman Capote.) I ended up enjoying the introduction and Clutter family so much that I didn't want their murder to come.

Capote also nicely presents the criminal perspective, although the detail is a little too specific and in-depth for me. I think that their ensuing voyage post-murder is important, but a lot of other side-facts and back-stories are not. I even sympathize here that Capote is trying to really develop the personality of the murderers -- it's necessary to go deep into detail.  But some of the factoids and anecdotes still seemed superfluous and expendable.

Not that Death Row.

One other gripe. The ending. In the same fashion as Capote went into detail about the murderers' lives, as went ensuing descriptions of other death row inmates. (That's deaTH row, not DeaF Row, for clarity's sake.) Capote described of the crimes and rationales of other inmates for about 30 pages too long before finally wrapping up the horrifying story.

Read it if you have a little bit of time on your hands -- it's a dense read. Only 320-ish pages, but extremely detail-laden and dialogue is used more sparingly than paraphrasing with a dialect. Good for vacations, reading by the pool, extremely hot summers.

Phish, Alpine Valley, 6/30 & 7/1/12

Okay, I think I'm ready to talk about these shows.

To a non-Phish fan, or even a casual Phish fan, I'm sure these shows were fun. I enjoyed a few moments of them, here and there. But to someone who has seen this band a lot (and I consider myself a borderline fan of that department -- these shows were my 23rd and 24th times seeing Phish), these shows were a let-down before they even happened.

The band played two shows at Verizon Wireless, no, First Bank, no...ummm... screw it, Deer Creek in Indianapolis prior to Alpine Valley. And they were some of the choicest setlists the band has laid down, in my opinion, since 1999 or 2000. Bust-outs of old-school Phish originals (McGrupp, Tela, Sanity, and David Bowie, which was first on my "gotta have it" list this year) and ultra-rare cover songs like Velvet Underground's Cool It Down AND Sweet Jane (only the second time played each, and first since Halloween 1998), and the ultimate knife in the back, Blues Image's Ride Captain Ride, which I've been quietly chasing since 1998, at Deer Creek actually had me considering that I should sell my tickets to the first night at Alpine Valley. Typically, when Phish throws down some magic, the next show is a phone-in. While I wouldn't call either Alpine Valley show a phoned-in show, there's just no way that they could have been even comparable to the Deer Creek shows. I mean, I'm still steaming over Ride Captain Ride...I've missed it by one show at least two or three times now, and even missed it a few times at shows I should have been at, but didn't attend for whatever reason.

That all being said, the shows were still decently fun. They played a few originals that I was still excited to hear, like The Sloth, Reba, Runaway Jim, 2001, Maze, a cover of Talking Heads' Crosseyed and Painless, Let it Loose by the Rolling Stones, and, perhaps the highlight of the two shows, the 1-2 opening punch of Bob Marley's Soul Shakedown Party and Velvet Underground's Lonesome Cowboy Bill on Sunday night. It's quite possible that they'll never play Lonesome Cowboy Bill again, as, like the VU covers at Deer Creek, it hadn't been played since it's original bust-out on 10/31/98. 

Beyond the aforementioned original and cover-song highlights, the Alpine Valley shows were average at best, unfortunately. The critical side of my mind gets disappointed when I think about it, but after some reasoning and self-condolences, I tell that critical voice to shut the fuck up and just enjoy the shows for what they are -- a few nights to kick back with good friends, old acquaintences, and crunchy, hetty jamz.

Euro 2012: the commentary

(Note: this was originally penned on June 28, and not finished until Mid-July.) The title isn't meant to imply that we're discussing my commentary in this post...I want to bring attention to the sheer brilliance of the call brought on by perhaps my favorite announcers of any sport, ever: Adrian Healey and Ian Darke.

That's not to say that any of the other worldly futbol announcers aren't as good. They're all good. Listening to the call of a Euro 2012 match, or any major match, is so.damn.enjoyable.

These guys not only know what they're talking about. They're natural linguists. In the commentator bios I found, I discovered that all of them are at least bilingual. Then again, I suppose that in England or anywhere else in Europe, it's common to classify yourself as multilingual. Fact: people who speak more languages have a more firm grasp on vocabulary, and generally kick ass at speaking and describing things. Toss in an English accent, and I'm really, really starting to hate Phil Simms.

I also love the terminology used for sports that I have never heard in any other arena. Being "unlucky" is the term for banking one off the crossbar, or suffering a foul without gaining anything for it. In baseball, a homerun is "robbed" from a hitter -- there is no luck involved. Certainly no luck in American football -- a kicker who misses a 45-yard field goal to put the team ahead as the clock expires is not "unlucky" -- he is a scape goat for the team's failure to dominate, and thusly shamed forever. (See: Martin Gramatica) In basketball, you're layin' bricks from 3-Point Land, but you're certainly not "unlucky." Perhaps you could actually be unlucky in curling, but that's about the only instance I could think of.

They also seem to discuss the individuals' decisions much more than, say, the NFL or MLB. European futbol fans seem more apt to blame, and in some instances, crucify players for a single poor decision that they made on a corner kick or missed header. In the NFL, we are aware of the bad players but simply don't draft them in fantasy leagues and try to hide their lack of skills by blanketing it on the general defensive or offensive deficiency. In the MLB, you can get away with sucking for a long, long time without getting benched. Hell, Rickie "Don't Call Me Dick" Weeks is batting .183 for half a season and still finds unquestioned daily starting time. You don't hear Rock commenting on Rickie's poor decisions. If anything, it's that he's more unlucky and getting robbed in the field, or not seeing pitches that well. Excuses.

Maybe it's the accents. Foreign terms and concepts. Some other X-factor. But I think half the reason why I get completely sucked into World Cup, Olympics, and Euro 2012 is the superb quality of commentary.

I'm melting...melting...

I'm pretty sure I haven't ever experienced heat of this magnitude in Wisconsin before. The weather guys say that 1988 was pretty bad, and I do remember various stretches from my youth when it was ungodly hot outside...but in more recent adult memory, this summer takes the cake. In fact, my family has been quoting Robin Williams from "Good Morning, Vietnam!" for the past two weeks.

Since June 30, when I came to Milwaukee for summer vacation and various concerts, Brewers games, and other 414-fun, I don't think it's dipped into the 70s during daylight hours. I went to Phish on June 30 and July 1 (review still forthcoming), and I thought those days were hot...I think the mercury hit the low 90s on those days. That would be refreshing after the past two weeks.

It started getting unbearable on July 2-3...on the 3rd, I had plans to hit the mid-afternoon Brewers game at 3 and then head to Summerfest for Tiesto. It was hot. Damn hot.

On July 5, it was even worse -- luckily we were able to trade our 3rd base line Brewers tickets (which would have been directly in the sweltering sun) to the 1st base side, which was only 102 in the shade. I had to take a few trips to the concourse to visit the giant ceiling fans for relief. Even though it cooled off a bit over the weekend (only in the low-90s), the humidity intensified over Monday and Tuesday to deliver what might have been the worst heat of July yet...today we broke records in Milwaukee, topping 103 degrees.

I went disc golfing this morning at Brown Deer Park...it was 90 degrees when I started at 9 am, and 95 when I finished at 10:30. By this afternoon, it was ridiculous...how do people live in this weather in the south? I know it's all relative -- southerners would ask how we Wisconsinites bear the sub-zero temps in January and February. (And December and March, to a lesser extent.) I'd much rather put on layers and layers of clothing instead of trying to strip down to less than the birthday suit. Which still leaves you hot and sweaty when it's 100+ degrees. As long as the AC is rocking, I guess I can bear the heat. Fingers crossed for no rolling blackouts.

Summerfest. Paul Oakenfold. 7-6-2012, Miller Lite Oasis

After seeing Tiesto on the big stage not three days prior, I knew I'd find Paul Oakenfold vastly superior or pathetically inferior to the super-huge European club god. And while I'm not going to admit that Paul Oakenfold is necessarily a better DJ than Tiesto, I certainly enjoyed his show more.

No contest, Oakenfold ripped the Miller Lite Oasis apart on this obscenely muggy Friday night. While suffering from a stripped down stage show and, frankly, rapist-esque looks and points at the crowd, his beats just shook the joint. He aptly mixed a few American classics into his set, including Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes, Scar Tissue by Red Hot Chili Peppers, and Lenny Kravitz's Are You Gonna Go My Way, among a few others I'm sure I'm forgetting.

Much like Tiesto, he'd build a beat around a common song, whether it from the aforementioned list, or a few that touched on the cheesy, generic female-vocalist-from-Europe verses that plagued Teisto's set on Tuesday. But the beats...oh, the beats. Oakenfold's drops were about as heavy as I've experienced in recent concert-going memory ("recent" meaning...post-2005). It was clear from the geto-go that I would clearly be adhering to a sober version of Ali G's "dancing like a prick" theory. Pretty much every beat put out by Oakenfold was, well, sweet-ass music to this guy's ears.

Style of music: Oakenfold by a full length over Tiesto.

Oakenfold did score some unwanted super-creepy points with his stage presence, though. He rarely emerged from behind his tables, which wasn't too bad, but when he did, it was as if he didn't quite know what to do with himself. A clap-clap here, and then I'll go to the other side, clap-clap over there, annnnnd, OK, I'm going back behind my tables.

Even creepier was "the point." There are many times when, during a DJ's set, the DJ doesn't have anything to do. The tunes are moving, your next beat is cued up and ready to go, and you've got 30 seconds to kind of...enjoy the moment. Oakenfold had this bad habit of holding onto his knobs for most of that time, and giving the crowd a creepy look. I just couldn't get on board with that -- it only allowed everyone to see how much time he wasted not doing anything. A few times, he'd realize, "Oh crap, I have about 43 seconds left until I actually have to turn these knobs, I'd better do something." So, instead, he'd give that creepy look to the audience again and point. Really awkwardly, just at one random person in the crowd. I think his intention was to point and emote the idea, "Here it comes, you're gonna love this." It ended up making him look like the guy who invented the idea of rape vans.

Style of stage-presence:  Oakenfold, if you're into watching a DJ make you feel really awkward, even among  a sea of 5,000 people.

Absolute creepiness aside, his set was just really spectacular. For a free stage that wasn't crowded at all on a Friday night, this one gets award for "happy unexpected moment from Summerfest 2012." (See De La Soul 7/9/11 for last year's recipient.) I will have to upload the videos at a later date when I get back to my "home" computer, my iPad will not allow me to load videos.

Summerfest 7/3/12: Tiësto & Steve Aoki @ Marcus Amphitheater

After an already hot Brewers game (temperature of 97 in the sun while hanging out in the parking lot), my companion and I made it to the Marcus Amphitheater for Tiësto. I had never seen him before, and I generally like to support acts that don't suck that Summerfest brings in. Tiësto was definitely enough of a draw to earn my extra dollar for the Marcus ticket.  The tickets came out to $28/each, thanks to a web deal that indicated to me that the show was selling terribly.

Sold terribly it did indeed. Most of the second yellow section of the Marcus went unfilled. Only the center five green bench seating sections were occupied. There was plenty of lawn space off to the sides, until, during Steve Aoki, security opened up the gates between bench seating and lawn, thusly making the whole place feel even more empty.

Steve Aoki was the first full set we got there in time to see, and although I had heard he's pretty good, I left only liking about half of his material. Some of his set included stuff that had a harder, grindier sound to it, or was straight up dubstep, which is fun for about four seconds. He was quite lively on stage, making laps a few times, and throwing half-sheet cakes into the crowd (perhaps from Metro Market?) on two separate occasions. The highlight of Aoki's set were, unfortunately, the 9:30 Big Bang fireworks, and a fun, bouncy remix of Kid CuDi's "Pursuit of Happiness."

Tiësto, on the other hand, is a few steps higher on production and professional scale. Lights, a pretty killer LED screen backdrop, and dry ice shooters (like anti-pyrotechnics?) added enough eye candy so Tiësto didn't have to resort to silly laps and gimmicks on stage.

The music was mostly a hit, although I did find Tiësto's routine to become overly formulaic at a few times. He'd play a song with Euro-ish lyrics in the background, build it, drop the bass, then repeat two or three times. Most of the cycles were hits, or badly needed breaks from some hot beats. A rare song in the mix did drag and had me thinking, "Get to the workin' overtime part!"  He dabbled on a few catchy European DJ remixes that I couldn't quite place, and also the hit of the summer that no band or DJ can possibly resist playing, Gotye's "Somebody That I Used To Know."

Tiësto's productions, however, were pretty spot on. Without having to say so much as a word, Tiësto was able to rile fans into a frenzy with animated projections on the screen behind him, and also below, covering the stage from about three feet and lower.  At times, the projections were amazing complements to the music. At others, they were the main attraction.

Tiësto provided enough of a bouncy, Euro club atmosphere in a large American shed to make everyone care enough that it was probably less than 50% full. Seeing as how his tour is called "Club Life," I'd say he was pretty spot on.  Oh, and PS, these bucket-drummers that play outside of Summerfest for donations are incredible.

Porch garden: week 5ish

The cucumbers are sprawling out and gradually claiming my porch.

Jalepenos (sans tilda)

Your standard tomato. Roma, dude.

Chris Bosh: Velociraptor?

I admit, I wouldn't even consider myself a casual fan of the NBA...I pretty much watch the Finals, and I know enough about the better teams by watching ESPN and Sportscenter on a consistent basis.

But Chris Bosh is a fucking velociraptor in a human suit.

Not only are his NBA skills lacking, but dude just screams "RAPTOR."  And no, it's not because he used to play for a team that nearly gave away his big secret.

As I was Googling pics for this post, I see that others have already beat me to it. Your secret is out, Bosh. You're a dinosaur, and we all know it.  Several side-by-side images pop up in Google Images if you google "Chris Bosh velociraptor," which are too similar to discount.

It just seems as if Bosh never comes through offensively.  Missing shots, easy layups...but what do you expect for someone who, under his poor excuse for a human suit, barely has arms long enough to dunk a basketball!  Good thing raptors have such stunning leaping abilities, as showcased in Jurassic Park, in which, I hear, Bosh actually had a cameo.

The Heat may be taking the NBA Championship this year, but you don't fool me, Bosh.  You're a velociraptor.

Porch garden: week 4

The cukes became a tad discombobulated after crazy storms this morning, but soon their awesome tendrils will clamp to the porch for security.

Tomato looks good, but I worry that my jalapeños are in too small of a pot.

Sports sports sports sports

Sports fans, shit's been pretty great lately, no?

Today we had the trifecta-plus-one of sports. (I'm not sure if there's such a thing as quadfecta, hence trifecta-plus-one.)  Any time you can watch and enjoy four different types of legitimate, major sports in one day, well, that's pretty tough to top.

We've currently got the European Futbol 2012 Championship in progress, which meant two matches daily at 11 a.m. and 2 p.m. for the last week. There is nothing like morning football. After the first round-robins, I'm on board with those wily underdogs, the Greeks. They don't really stand a chance, but since they won't really be a part of the EU soon, I'd like to see them go out on top.

Brewers baseball is always ongoing, like it or not.  Unfortunately, it's been a down season for them this year, but it's always enjoyable to have the option to watch them leave the bases loaded or listen to Uecker talk about how incredible Silver Spring Mustard is on a freshly grilled Usinger's bratwurst, although he'll never give you the score in the middle of an inning.  They're currently in the bottom of the 15th against the Twins, locked at four.

The US Open has also been ongoing since Thursday. This year has been particularly entertaining since there is no real top-notch, dominating golfer right now. And also because every professional golfer in the world is getting their asses handed to them by The Olympic Club in San Francisco, California. The leading score right now is ze German Jim Furyk, leading the pack at -1 for the tournament. Even par very well may take the green jacket. (A green jacket mention can't go without the following video:)

And finally, we have the NBA Playoffs. Many smart people don't care about the NBA at all, and some (like myself) only really start paying attention after the Bucks are mathematically eliminated, er, oops, after the playoffs start. I didn't even really follow the first two rounds this year. Let's face it, the NBA sucks as a professional league, tickets are so overpriced, and the only really interesting games to watch are the Conference Finals and NBA Finals. Tonight we have OKC Thunder vs. Hated Bron and the Miami Heat Machine. With the series tied at 1-1 and the Thunder requiring a win in Miami to regain homecourt advantage, tonight should be a heated contest. It's pretty much for the taking, LeBron. If the Heat lose, the fallout will be never-ending.

Of course, this is all an amateur workout up to the Summer Olympics on July 27; two glorious weeks of international competition in sports that mostly don't mean anything, except for table tennis and the uneven bars.

Gushing about Radiohead. (Or: I can get you a toe, dude. You don't wanna know, but there are ways.)

In my recent fandom of the band Radiohead, I've found their appeal to be polarizing among fans of rock music. People who like them really like them, and people who hate them really hate them. Even though I was late to the game -- even turning down stellar seats to their 2003 Alpine Valley show because I felt like I didn't know enough about them to see them live -- I've definitely come to appreciate them and consider myself in the group of people who really, really like them...to the point where I'd have to say they're the most relevant band of our entire generation.

The location was World Music Amp, er, wait, Midwest First Bank Amphitheater at Tinley Park, IL.  I'd been tempted by some shows hosted there before, but had never actually made it there...one of the few Chicago-area venues left on my list.  I brought friend Joe along, and we discovered that, despite a near trip to the ER in Kenosha, the trip went literally perfectly from the time we left Milwaukee until the time we returned.

That's right, a trip to the Kenosha ER was narrowly averted by my quick, MacGyver-like medical skills. I bought a new pair of crappy, knock-off sunglasses the other day, and without my real glasses, I have shaky eyesight as it is.  Somehow, I swear these sunglasses make my eyesight worse. I was wearing them as I stumbled upon the cement curb at the BP gas station, and at first thought that I simply stubbed my toe.  By the time I got to the refrigerated water section, I realized my sandal was squishy.  With blood.  I cautiously purchased my overpriced Fiji water and exited the gas station, trying not to drip blood anywhere.  I just happened to not only have a whole package of random band-aids in my car, but also a totally random pair of shoes and socks in the back as well, not to mention a full-on medical bag of gauze and medical tape. It was my lucky day to get injured, I guess. Despite being largely uncomfortable for the rest of my night, I made it through the night. Quotes about toes from The Big Lebowski dangled in my mind all night.  Now that it's been a few days, it still looks pretty bad...about a pinky-width patch of skin is flappin' off the end of my toe. Who needs stitches, anyway?

Getting in was easy, despite one missed turn. There was no wait to get into the parking lot, and we were parked pretty close to an exit.  We figured this would benefit us on the way out, but it still took us about 25 minutes to get out. 

Miraculously, as we approached the gates, we ran into Dirty and company, so we were able to catch up briefly before heading in, which we did shortly before Caribou took the stage.  I was in line most of the time for a hamburger, so I can't comment much on their performance, other than it sounded good. I've tried Caribou in the past. They're good and all, but not entirely my thing.

Radiohead wowed me, on the other hand, as I fully expected them to do.  On a visual and sonic level, they left nothing behind as they tore through a 2+ hour set containing every tune from their new album, The King of Limbs, and a hand-picked selection of older tunes, mostly from In Rainbows, Kid A, and Amnesiac. The crowd was an interesting mix of over-the-top hipsters ("smacking of effort," as we commented), lots of non-descript folks in their later 20's and early 30's, and a handful of dirty kidz with Phish shirts on.

(The Gloaming. Still gives me chills. Thom seizuring across the stage. It should be rainin'.)

Instead of a blow-by-blow review of the show, I'll try to highlight my top four thoughts/moments. (Why four?  Because I feel three is short-changing the most relevant band of our time, and five would get a little long.)

1)  Professionalism.  Wow, this band is so tight.  For a band that doesn't really tour regularly, they've got every little aspect worked out to a "T."  (Minus the whole stage-collapsing-in-Toronto-and-killing-one-person-last-night thing, which probably wasn't their fault, directly.)  The lights, musicianship, and overall professionalism of their stage presence is probably second-to-none.  Everything seemed so polished. "In its right place," if you will.  Ar ar ar.

(Idioteque @ Coachella, Indio, CA, April 2012. Not the show I'm reviewing, but the audio and visual of this video is second to none, and it's probably a better version than the Tinley version anyway. I could watch Thom dance around on stage all.day.long.)

2)  Setlist.  I walked out realizing that they didn't play two of the "big songs" that I wanted to (and always want to) hear: National Anthem and Paranoid Android.  But in retrospect, I don't think I would have traded anything that they played for either of those songs.  Their shows are very calculated, which also attributes to their aforementioned professionalism. It's a given that they do a long-ish main set, about 1:45 in length.  They close with a heavy-hitter, ("Idioteque," in our case) and then come back to do two 3-4 song encores.  It really gives them an opportunity to fit in a lot more songs and tempo-shifts than if they were to do a regular, full set with a standard 1-2 song encore. Highlights included Idioteque, The Gloaming, my first Kid A ("A" must stand for amazing), Everything In Its Right Place with an intro to the tune of R.E.M.'s The One I Love, Reckoner, and Myxomatosis. There were a few firsts for me in this show -- 3 new tunes (Staircase, Ful Stop, and Identikit, as well as the aforementioned tunes Kid A, Myxomatosis, bust-out Amnesiac b-side The Amazing Sound of Orgy, and of course everything from TKOL.) Ful Stop was mired in technicolored stage projections, which might have blown more minds than any other tune that night. Watch the video below, you'll see. Pretty sure I was seeing rainbow fractals for days following the show.  (On a side-note, normally I hate YouTube concert vids where you can hear people talking, but in this case, the camera man's "Oh My GOD" pretty much sums it all up.)

3) The soft songs. Radiohead is known for their very slow, intricate, beautiful tunes. Amazingly, these are not lost in a 30,000-person capacity shed. Kid A, Codex, Separator, Arpeggi/Weird Fishes, and The Amazing Sound of Orgy caused a few people to sit, but overall the band executed these songs with full precision that lost nothing in the confines of a giant amphitheater. Softer tunes, especially done solo on a piano, can provide that small breather that the crowd needs, but can also provide that moment of restlessness if not placed properly. Radiohead seems to know how to avoid that lull, or at least keep my attention so I don't notice the others whom have lost interest.

4) Song selection. I guess this could be a subcategory of #2/Setlist, but I'm talking more about the song rotation here than what they played. It's just amazing that they have such a full catalog of songs, spanning 8 official studio albums, and more acoustic mix-tapes and single releases, and I still walk out totally content with what they played, ignoring the fact that they skipped a good chunk of songs on my perpetual "Wanna See It Tonight" list, including How to Disappear Completely, Airbag, National Anthem, Paranoid Android, Pyramid Song, I Might Be Wrong, House of Cards, Morning Bell, Bangers + Mash, Just...I mean, I could go on.  Normally, I'd be a little pissed walking out of a show that left that many of my listed songs without a check next to them -- but again, the playing was so dead-on and enjoyable, Radiohead leaves you wanting more, every time.

And that's the mark of a truly great show -- you leave satisfied but still wishing you could have had more. Since they've been on the iPod nonstop in the last week, I'd have to say they've accomplished that feat.

Instagram, Bonnaroo couch festing, and summer boredom

Everyone has commented, "wow, you made it to summer, how awesome!" And on the exterior, yes, it's awesome. Not working for a stretch of 2+ months while still collecting paychecks certainly sounds like the American dream. But problems don't disappear during that time. Paychecks still come, but so do bills and other unexpected costs.

I've had a rough time adjusting to my newfound freedom, leaving me generally bored and thinking, "what am I gonna do until September?" I have various hobbies that I was excited to do, and I can, and do, do those things pretty much whenever I feel. Blogging. Starting an Instagram account. Reading. Porch gardening. Hating Scott Walker. Coming to Milwaukee, going to Brewers games. I'm still bored -- or at least, I feel like I'm just wasting time by doing nothing of importance. The real challenge in all of this is companionship. With all of my friends dispersed around the country (I love you all, but you suck for being so far away), it's tough to find new go-to people with whom to do things. Let's face it friends, we're an odd bunch into quirky things. Who else would grill out at 9 a.m. in anticipation of UEFA league championship soccer? Or go to a July 3 Brewers game in the 12th row behind home plate, then take a bus to Summerfest for Tiesto and fireworks?
I've gone to this shit alone before. I've even had a fun time raging it solo, save for a few moments of awkwardness. In every case, though, it's more fun to be with someone. Anyone.

As mentioned, I've taken to the social media apps to try to not only keep myself occupied, but try to enrich my knowledge of the social media stratosphere so I can attempt to implement it in my classes. I've definitely enjoyed the likes of Instagram, but still don't know much about it...I'm not even sure if non-members can view those picture posts that I make. It's linkable to Facebook (boo) and Twitter, but not blogspot, since that's a Google app. My latest addition was a picture of a car fire I witnessed 50 feet from my parking spot at Bayshore. Once shit started blowing up, I left to go shopping, trying to avoid flying fiery debris.

Finally, this weekend is the Bonnaroo Music and Arts festival, or whatever hokey name they've settled on for a grimy, hot, overpriced music festival not called Lollapalooza or Coachella. They're webcasting the whole shebang-a-bang, which would be way more sweet if the webcast didn't freez or shit out every few minutes. It goes through spurts, but overall so far has not compared to the flawless Coachella webcast. I watched parts of Radiohead last night, in between frozen lapses and inexplicable 30 second repeated loops, and Das Racist today.

Both were enjoyable. I love watching Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood on stage, laboring over his guitars and other toys. I'd heard of Das Racist before, and they were fun as well...three scrubby looking guys rocking the stereotypical MLB flat-brim hats and mumbling indecipherable lyrics, minus a song about Michael Jackson and millions of dollars, and another song that sampled a Billy Joel tune.

Phish gets the main webcast on Sunday, but I'll be seeing the real deal later this month (twice) and seeing Radiohead on Sunday night, which will most likely serve as my next gushing blog review come Monday.

Porch gardens and recall elections

Walker won.

Koch brothers and their money won.

Privitization won.

Unemployment won.

A widening rich-poor gap won.

The long, not so slow, slide toward modern day feudalism won.

Fear won. Greed won. Money won.

Paying off the heads of big corporations on the backs of regular working people won.

So be it. All of these are battles in a much longer war for the soul of this country.

Don't blame me, I voted for Kodos.

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On a happier note, here is a photo from week 1 of my porch garden. That's a tomato on the right, cukes in the middle, my Recall Walker plant, and jalapeños on the far left. I went easy on tomatoes this year since I don't eat a ton of them, and one plant of Roma should provide plenty come August and September.  I do love cucumbers though, so I'm excited to see how many I yield out of one little pot standing in the corner of my porch.

Pay-Per-View Cable and "The Marathon Channel"

After getting somewhat stuck on yet another SPIKE TV Star Wars marathon today, I was reminded of my idea the last time I got stuck on the very same marathon about 3 months ago. It seems like SPIKE does a Star Wars weekend about four to five times a year -- especially around Christmas, Memorial and Labor Days, and the Fourth of July. It's just something my family can't avoid when it's on TV.

Similar are the Indiana Jones marathons, Godfather marathons, and ABC Family's Harry Potter marathons. TNT runs Lord of the Rings on a consistent basis, in addition to Kill Bill.

I would pay good money for a "Marathon Channel," especially if it were on-demand and/or its content were determined by customer input or demand. What? It's time for 14 hours of Star Wars?  Starting Friday at 6 p.m., you got it.  Followed by Harry Potter, Die Hard, Indiana Jones (only Temple of Doom and Last Crusade for me, please) and closed out with a solid Rocky recap, highlighting the crucial fight moments from 1, 2, and 3, with a full-run of Rocky 4?  On second thought, I'd probably never leave the house on weekends again, which wouldn't be a good thing.

But, I do think that, with the creation of easy-to-use platforms like iTunes and Hulu and other interweb viewing services, TV networks should charge on a pay-per-view basis.  You want to subscribe to TNT for a week for something?  $5.  Lock in for a 4-month period for $10 or yearly for $15.  Or allow customers to pay $15 to watch just a season of something.  I don't need ABC for anything other than Modern Family, but I'd pay top dollar for Sportscenter and the full year of Brewers games.

Cable right now is too expensive, and still, I can't get AMC in Pulaski.  I had to purchase the entire MadMen season through iTunes for $24, on top of my $55 monthly cable bill for all the other stations, 90% of which go unwatched.

How about I give you $35, and you just get me ESPN, FSNWisconsin, FOX, ABC, TBS, TNT, NBC, and MTV Jams?

Pictoblog. Lakefront photos 5-11-2011

A few of my favorite lake Michigan views, in addition to the ol' Bartlett parlor.

Epic anniversaries...I must be exhausted.

I'm definitely one for nostalgia, and trips down memory lane. Throughout March and April, and into May, as the snow finally disappears, temps start to elevate, and ladies break out those ridiculous scanty summer clothes, I'm always reminded of past spring forays of traveling across the country to chase those silly bands I enjoy listening to.

After you eat, drink, and breathe a band's music for 13 years, dates of popular shows stick to you. These dates don't necessarily mean jack shit to anyone else. 9/18/99.  8/24/02.  8/11/03.  12/29/02. 7/11/07. But even without the year, when the calendar hits those dates, I instinctually pull out the iPod and reminisce (Tanqueray not necessary) about what went down in my life 5, 8, or 12 years ago.

March, April, and May were perennial busy periods in college. Second semesters began winding down, final exams approached at all-too-fast speeds, and it signified the start of worrying about working a summer job and making minimum wage to pay the rent and bills. Somehow, I squeezed more concerts into the months of March, April, and May than any other time of the year, all while juggling the aforementioned "real life" concerns.

The following are my top experiences (in no particular order) of absolutely epic springtime concert experiences.

1.  the Disco Biscuits, The Starland Ballroom, Sayreville, NJ.  3/24/05, 3/25/05, 3/26/05

This was a three-night run at a legendary North-Jersey Ballroom, formerly called "The Hunka Bunka." I mean, like a party would ever suffer at a place with an old name like that. This was my third and final trip to the overly-ambitiously secured nightclub, and for good reason. It was always too packed, the security, as alluded to, was freaking relentlessly unmerciful. Not that I ever got myself into any trouble...but inspections on the way in were, as I'd imagine, akin to entering jail for a life sentence. While I wasn't driving the rental car, I was still nervous that we'd be pulled over and searched on the side of the dark road, despite the fact that I possessed nothing illegal on me at the time. It was just an intense place to be.  But, despite the ridiculous security, the Starland Ballroom was always a fun, albeit uncomfortable, place to see a show. A three-night stint with the Biscuits always meant a few things: 1) You'd get a really great show, a really terrible show, and a really mediocre show. 2) Fans would always get too intoxicated and comfortable as the days progressed. By the time the third show ended, I'm surprised some of the people I knew were simply still alive. And 3) You were just zonked by night 3, mentally and physically.

We flew into BWI in Baltimore instead of NYC; it was much cheaper. Or was it Philly?  No matter, but a small commute to our hotel ensued on the morning of the first show. By this point, we were common tourists in Sayreville; we knew the places to go, where not to go...shit, we even had a "home hotel." Unlike the other memorable runs I'd experienced up to this point, though, this run occurred after my collegiate career ended, and I had to deal with getting time off from work as opposed to just ditching classes for a few days. It felt different.

Contrary to the aforementioned rules, the Biscuits never really broke through mediocrity during this run; it was an isolated "money maker" set of shows played during a time when the band was unfocused and not practicing. I have more memories of ancillary happenings on this trip, like a friend's near-death experience during a Munchkin Invasion. After chain-smoking cigarettes the entire night, he looked at me with completely dead eyes during the second set Munchkin, which prompted me to nearly carry him to the back bar for water. After one glass, he not only regained his popular swagger, but stole some dude's Yuengling off the bar when he wasn't looking as we proceeded back to the soundboard area for a ripping Bernstein and Chasnoff. There were post show hotel shenanigans, where I found more people laying on their stomachs on the floor than standing and conversing, and late-night elevator rides with people looking for nitrous. Oh, and let us not forget Steel Reserve OE High Gravity tall-boys, and seeing how many uses we could derive from the empty cans. Only in the Dirty Jerz.

2.  the Disco Biscuits, House of Blues, Chicago, IL. 3/29/02-3/30/02, and The Barrymore Theater, 4/20/02, Union Bar, Iowa City, IA 4/22/02, Canopy Club, Urbana, IL, 4/23/02.

This run went down in the midst of a disgustingly messy breakup. The first two shows led to the breakup, and the last three were a celebration of flaunting my singlehood. The House of Blues shows ("where everything is coated in gold, including the music") were really the start to what I'd call my "professional" Biscuits career. I'd consider the 5 shows I saw prior to this in 1999 and 2001 as my "learning period" shows. But, now I was prepared. I knew all the tunes, all the changes, all the segues. The HOB shows featured some sick moments, and glorious house DJs opening the show and spinning at setbreak, and came in the middle of my spring break. They were pure fun, as witnessed from the floor of the illustriously overpriced Chicago landmark. A split Ladies > Spacebird > Shem-Rah Boo > Ladies highlighted the first night, along with a completely hot and completely botched Shimmy, and a monstrous night two featured a marathon setlist of Kamaole Sands (my first) > Mindless Dribble > Crickets > Mindless Dribble > I-Man > Svenghali > I-Man > Kamaole Sands to complete the first two shows of their massive spring tour. Hotness.

But I'd have to say the second midwest leg really sealed the deal for me on this run. The celebrated 4/20 show in Madison picked up where the 3/30 marathon ran out, featuring a split, and apropos, Nughuffer, which was littered throughout the second set along with other heavy-hitters like an inverted Crickets, Shem-Rah Boo, House Dog Party Favor, and an insane Mindless Dribble. In fact, they even jammed straight into Nughuffer out of the DJ's (Environmental Sound Therapist's Gabriel Polomo, don't ask how I even remember that) setbreak set. From the 4/20 show, I returned to Stevens Point directly after the show so I could get to class on 4/21 and 4/22.

On the afternoon of 4/22, I split for Iowa City by my lonesome, knowing that I'd meet other people at the show. After a 6 hour drive, I rolled into Iowa City for the first time ever, found my hotel, then pre-gamed solo in the parking garage prior to entering the psuedo-dive bar. The "concert area" was in a separate area from the main bar, and the stage was raised about 4 feet above the concert floor. There were 38 people in attendance. I counted. The band came out and opened with the theme from Superman, an extreme rarity, which immediately morphed into Radiator, a song that the band rarely played in the 21st century, and one of two that I ever got to see them play out of 74 shows. This show featured my favorite rendition EVER of Bernstein and Chasnoff; a blistering 13-minute version of the song with a rip-roaring guitar theme from Barber that still haunts my dreams to this day. Shit was fire. Pure fire. The second set was a little more forgettable, save a 40-minute, set-ending Basis For a Day > King of the World > Basis For a Day, which was pretty much the dance party shit that lured me to Iowa.

After a good night's sleep in a clean hotel bed and a glorious shower, I hit the road for a four-hour trek to Urbana and my first stint at the Canopy Club. This was the forgettable show of the run; rather uninspired playing from the band paired with a setlist that just didn't really do it for me. However, I do recall literally walking right up to the lip of the stage at the beginning of set II for Mr. Don, as the band was draped in thick blue lights, and thick skunky smoke.  I made the mistake of trying to drive back to Stevens Point directly after the show -- I believe it was a Sunday night, and, you know, I had classes on Monday. I only made it as far as Rockford, where I was forced to pull over for a snooze at a rest stop (Yikes!) before completing the journey back home. Yeah, it was totally worth it.

3.  "The Graduation Tour." the Disco Biscuits, The Hook, Brooklyn, NY, 5/6/04. The Palace Theater, Albany, NY, 5/7/04. The Palladium (a.k.a. "The Getlaidium), Wooster, MA, 5/8/04. Starland Ballroom, Sayreville, NJ, 5/9/04.

This run started in March with a phone call from fellow Biscuiteer, Kevin the Dentist. There was a private party in Brooklyn, and he wanted to know if I wanted to go. He didn't necessarily know the guy personally, but through his association with the band, he received an invite +1 for a private birthday show in Brooklyn with the Disco Biscuits and Chicago DJ's Orchard Lounge serving as the house music for the evening. Rumors were abound about what the Biscuits would do for the occasion. I immediately accepted, disregarding the fact that this run would occupy the four days leading up to my last final exams of college ever, and would actually spill over into the first two days of exams. Who needs exams?  I had a graduation tour to rage.

We flew out of Midway in Chicago to BWI in Baltimore, promptly rented a car (which was a sporty ride, as I remember) and hit the road for BKNY. Although Kevin realized he forgot all of his tickets in the car at Midway, he called Ticketmaster and amazingly, they replaced all of them! I had been to NYC before...for all of 16 hours last New Year's. But now Brooklyn.  Brooklyn just felt more...authentic. NYC was all glitz and glam, and fake appearances and corporate advertising. Brooklyn was no-frill, balls out, serious stuff.  We pulled up to "The Hook," a non-descript brick building in the middle of an industrial area of Brooklyn.  We were 5 hours early, but we were driving straight to Albany after the show and had no place to hide. We found the venue, then briefly explored before killing a solid hour at a tiny Italian restaurant. We went back to hang out outside the venue after that, and talked to the various other fans gathering outside for the party. We were treated to an e-drum laden soundcheck of Helicopters, which, unfortunately, might have very well been the highlight of the night. Everything was flowing at the show, though, and I even got a little tipsy. After all, it was a birthday party. We bolted directly after the show and I have hazy memories of driving through New York City, Queens, and the Bronx at about 3:30 in the morning. I'm pretty sure we got to our hotel in Albany at around 6 or 7 a.m., and proceeded to sleep all day long.

The next night was a good technical show, but didn't take off to the stratosphere like they were capable of. Set I featured a lot of loose, standard Set I songs, and included a nice Jigsaw Earth. Set II, however, was truly a memorable set, precluded by some witty stage banter of Barber proclaiming this set "the no-bullshit set." No bullshit indeed, and the band proceeded to knock down what is hailed as perhaps the best Save the Robots ever played. No bullshit Robots. They came out and encored with Nughuffer and a story about vaporizers -- wave of the future, dude. The Palace Theater was nice, and I remember lurking around, running into all (and I mean ALL) of my Biscuits compadres, catching up and reminiscing. Of all the venues I've seen tDB, I think the Palace definitely ranks in the top 5.

The next day was my first trip to Massachusetts. Nice state. We stayed at some out-of-the-way and oddly-arranged hotel, but it was clean, so it got the job done. Scott and I found an area disc golf course and played during the day, and we got to Worcester plenty early before the show to discover that the band was officially filming the show for a DVD release. I'd be on a DVD!  The Palladium was very similar to the Vic Theater in Chicago -- very open, and multi-tiered for optimal viewing pleasure. I camped out on the first tier above the main floor, with a perfect view and close proximity to the stage. The show was sloppy, but featured an opening Run Like Hell with thumping bass kick drums; a nice Above the Waves, and a frenetic Munchkin Invasion. It's during the Munchkin that you can actually see me on the DVD, for all of 1/2 a second. I liked Massachusetts, and Wooster, but really don't remember much else about it beyond that. MORE JUNGLE! Brownstein ended the show by reminding us to call our moms, because tomorrow, Sunday, was Mother's Day.  I did call her, as we were driving the next day. We were driving through Connecticut.

The following day, and final show, was to go down at Starland Ballroom; my first trip there. As rookies, we didn't really know what to expect, and left feeling a bit violated by security. However, this was the strongest show of the run. Crickets. Robots. Basis. All solid. But, I couldn't help but feel that, after four days of raging face on the east coast, I was starting to wear down. After all, four days straight with The Disco Biscuits on the Durty Durty Easside ain't no child's play.

After the Sayreville show, we drove back to Baltimore, but our flight wasn't heading back to Midway until Tuesday morning. By now, the reality sunk in that it was Monday, May 10, and I had 4 final exams starting in less than 48 hours. And I was in Baltimore. Kevin and I talked and dined and toured the sights in Baltimore all day on Monday. We slept in (nuttin', chillin' at the Holiday Inn...), had breakfast with mimosas at the hotel, saw Camden Yards, and toured the Harbor. We had lunch (crab and pints of ale) right on the harbor boardwalk -- Kevin and I talked about the need to get away, and I'll always remember drinking that beer, looking out into the Atlantic Ocean, and realizing how fucking insignificant the daily droll of life really is. We checked out a record store that Kevin loved to visit in Baltimore, hit a library for some internet access (mind you, this was pre-Smartphones) and walked all the way around the harbor and, as day turned to night, we got an unnecessarily extravagant meal at the Hard Rock Cafe right on the water. It was the absolute perfect way to end a perfect graduation tour. Getaways like that always reinvigorated everything upon return to my normal surroundings.

4.  Brothers Past. People's Bar and Grill, Ames, IA, 3/24/04. Thai Joe's, Milwaukee, WI, 3/25/04. Liquid Lyrics Lounge, Madison, WI, 3/26/04. Martyr's, Chicago, IL, 3/27/04.

Prior to the grad tour, there was the final spring break tour. Brothers Past provided the background music to an otherwise "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" type trip for myself and my compadres. I'll have to spare most of the finer details, unfortunately.

Adam, Peter and I drove to Iowa for the first show, and we checked into a decent hotel and grabbed dinner and drinks from the local gas station. Freezer burritos and cases of beer -- we were on a freaking mission. Over the course of the night we each proceeded to get absolutely destroyed. So much that, despite my claim that I went to get a sandwich at setbreak, Adam (STILL) is insistent on the fact that I stepped out back to buy food from a bum in the alley. We were 3 of 9 people there for the show, and other than them covering National Anthem, the only things I remember from this show are "Philly" and "Spilly" -- two guys, one wearing 76ers gear and another guy, later to be known as Jeff Hill, who was spilling his beer everywhere. This was the origin of Adam going to "Sour Dieseldorf" with keyboardist Tom McKee, and myself pleasing my tourmates by pulling shotguns in the hotel before the show while watching Chappelle's Show. Our cab drive was also the creepiest thing, ever, but I no longer remember why.

The next night in Milwaukee trumped Iowa on all accounts. We had to pass through a drug checkpoint on the way there, which was tense enough in itself, but for as bombed as we got in Iowa, we upped the ante four-fold in Milwaukee. Good friend Josh joined us for the last BP show at Thai Joe's, and we made sure they went out with a band. And a "YEAHHHH!" As mentioned, this was the time when everyone was quoting Chappelle's show for no good reason other than it was the funniest shit around...after pre-gaming at my future Riverwest residence, we got dropped off at Thai Joe's and continued drinking. And drinking. And drinking. One of our crew almost got kicked out, BEFORE THE SHOW STARTED. They stopped serving him. The bartenders gave me water to give to him, which he proceeded to drink (only because we assured him it was straight vodka), but he continued to spit it on the floor after every sip. One of our crew bought a pack of cigarettes, and upon finding out that they were menthol, he threw them on the floor. Various people asked him for smokes throughout the night, and he'd just casually point to the floor. I don't remember if anyone actually picked up our "floor smokes."  During setbreak, the same guy who almost got kicked out before the show began went outside for a smoke, but didn't have the necessary credentials to get back in...having no more cash, I saw him furiously pounding away at the ATM inside the lobby.  I went out to ask him what the deal was. "I need cash," he replied. "OK," I said. "What's your PIN?" He looked at me with a deadpan glazed look that I'll never forget, and said, "I don't know." "You don't fucking know?" I asked. "Nope."  I had to give the a-hole $10 so he could get back in.  The show was hot, but fizzled out at the end, but I think we were all wayyyyyy too intoxicated to care by that point.  You can hear us all over the recordings of the show, which still makes me bust a gut everytime I hear it. "WHAT?  OhhhhKAYYYYY!" Poor judgement ensued on the way home, as we bummed a ride with someone half as drunk as we were, which was still probably three times over the legal limit. All I remember was four big guys cramming into another guy's Camaro, zooming down Prospect Ave. at about 55 m.p.h. with our heads rattling from OutKasts' "Speakerboxxx."  Of all the hairy situations I've ever included myself in, this is probably the stupidest one.  Other than that, wow, what an epic evening.

The next night, as you could probably imagine, was a total hangover night and show. I took it easy that night, which was a good idea. The band only did one set, and it was forgettable at best.

We upped the ante again for Chicago to close our tour. After standing on the Belmont St. Red Line stop and pretty much losing my shit, and continuing to do so in the train and at Martyr's until the band came on, the band tore it up with perhaps the best Brothers Past show I'd ever seen. Again, details are sketchy and unmentionable, but things that I'll somehow remember forever. Or, at least, that wait for the train on the Belmont Red Line stop.

5.  the Disco Biscuits, The Blind Pig, Ann Arbor, MI, 4/16/03. The Vogue Theater, Indianapolis, IN, 4/17/03. The Vic Theater, Chicago, IL, 4/18/03. The Barrymore Theater, Madison, WI, 4/19/03.


6.  TRACTORBEAM @ Ontourage, Chicago, IL, 4/20/07. the Disco Biscuits, Lincoln Park Zoo and The Vic Theater, 4/22/07.

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Here's to epic springtime memories.

The Sopranos: Top 5 characters not named TONY

I started re-watching The Sopranos in February for the third time. I've seen a few episodes/seasons more than that, but this marks the third time I've watched all 86 episodes in chronological order.  After the first time I watched Tony and the North Jersey crew, I instantly declared that it was the best TV show I've ever seen. The Sopranos paved the way for other cast-heavy TV shows that function more as an ongoing, weekly movie installment than a typical television program. Without The Sopranos, shows like LOST, The Wire, Mad Men, and Breaking Bad would either cease to exist, or wouldn't enjoy the same type of cult-like popularity that each show currently enjoys. In many ways, The Sopranos served the same purpose that The Simpsons does; it accomplished something that was previously unheard of, and paved the ways for future shows to become successful.

The best season of The Sopranos is tough to nail down. Season 1 features the general premises and ideas of the entire show, and it's phenomenal to re-watch the show again a few years later since the writers and creator David Chase do such a good job of wrapping up the ideals from Season 1 in the final season.

Season 1's main ideals are that Tony Soprano's life as a gangster is unstable. He's unsafe, and his wife, Carmela, is scared stiff that when he dies or goes to jail, she will be left with nothing. A majorly intriguing point to Tony's life is that as a viewer, you not only get to see Tony's mob-boss centered life, but his other life as a father and husband. The juxtaposition between his two lives is stunningly portrayed in a realistic manner throughout the entire series; when family is good, work is not. When work is good, family is not. At times, Tony experiences joy through the family. At times, it's work. Sometimes, life just sucks all around, which is why he sees a shrink, played by Lorraine Bracco.  Throughout all of this, all of the seasons in Season 1 (and 2, 3, and even the majority of episodes in Season 4) are just perfectly meted out to give the viewer the perfect mix of drama, violence, humor, and plot and character development. The first few seasons are especially artistic, in that the camera work and effects are just...different. Without knowing much about video production, I struggle to describe it, but it's definitely artsier than your typical drama on ABC or CBS.

But, this post isn't to give a season blow-by-blow (or should I say hit-by-hit) synopsis.  I'm here to discuss the top five non-Soprano characters. Obviously Tony would be in my Top 5, but that's a little unfair. Kind of like saying that Omar is your favorite character from The Wire. I mean, duh...that's as simple as determining that food is delicious and days off from work are fun.

5.  Benny Fazio. Benny doesn't really appear until Season 5 when some of the original characters start to thin out a bit, but really gives a pleasurable performance. Played by Max Casella (yep, of Doogie Howser M.D. fame!), he plays a low-level crew guy who has a super cute pregnant wife, but can't resist that hot piece of ass who's hosting for Artie Bucco at Vesuvio. That escalates into a confrontation between Artie and Benny...Artie goes to Benny's house to kick the shit out of him, and actually does. Benny retaliates by sticking Artie's hand in a giant pot of searing-hot marinara. ("Gravy," for you Sopranos purists.)

4.  Furio Giunta. What.a.badass.MoFo.  Brought over from "the boot" in negotiations, Furio delivers some killer lines and scenes throughout his brief stay in Jersey in Seasons 2 and 3.  One scene that comes to mind is when Tony finds his Uncle Junior's cancer doctor on the golf course and lays down a threat. Tony asks Furio if he likes golf, and Furio responds, "Stupid a-fucking game." His thick Italiano accent and pure intimidating presence alone put him in the top 5. Furio proceeds to smack the doc's hat off, claiming, "You gotta bee on-a you hat." That scene is entertaining, but doesn't compare to the scene below it, which is by far Furio's finest (but brutal) moment.

3.  Pauly "Walnuts" Galtieri.  Pauly is just a classic character. He's unsure of himself at times, and has a weird aversion to believing that the people he's "whacked" over the years are haunting him from the grave. He's closed-minded, short-sighted, and a nitwit, but he's got some killer lines, and above all, he's mostly trustworthy and loyal. (Save for that one time when he told Johnny Sac about that joke about his wife while in the can.) Pauly has some of the greatest lines from the show; too many to list. One of my favorites is featured below in the video, about men's shoelaces and bathrooms. Another favorite of mine is not, though, which goes something like this, as he and Tony are watching a show about snakes:

Pauly:  "The amazing thing about snakes is that they reproduce spontaneously."

Tony: "What do you mean?"

Pauly:  "They have both male and female sex organs. That's why somebody you don't trust, you call a snake. How can you trust a guy who can literally go fuck themselves?"

Tony:  "Wouldn't you think that expression would come from the Adam and Eve story? When the snake tempted Eve to bite the apple?"

Pauly:  "Hey, snakes were fucking themselves long before Adam and Eve showed up, T."

The hair, his famous proclamation when he hits the Colombians ("Oooh my fuckin' BAWLS!") and the wondrous Pine Barrens episode in Season 4 earn Pauly a spot in the top 5.

2. Artie Bucco. I just love this guy.  He wants to be "in" so badly but let's face it, he's just an average guy who has no business being connected. Artie's facial expressions and mannerisms, and vocal intonations, really make the character for me. He just tries so hard to be tough, and he doesn't have it. I love how he practices his tough-guy routine. "Message machine broken?"

1) Silvio Dante. SteveVan Zandt plays Tony's number 2, Silvio.  Silvio takes pride in being the number two, and he plays the back burner role quite well.  Silvio serves as comic relief and advisor to Tony, and, like Artie, I just can't get over his facial expressions. I'll let the video do the talking, but Van Zandt creates such an unforgettable character that I can't help but put him at my #1 favorite non-Tony-Soprano character. The first video is a collaboration of quotes, including Silvio's oft-quoted lines from The Godfather and Raging Bull, but the second video might be Silvio's finest moment on the entire show. "I love fuckin' cheese on my feet!"