you changed all the lead sleeping in my head to gold

It's been a massively long time since I've written in this thing, and I wanted to try to get the cobwebs out, so here I am.

To be honest, not much has been going on around these parts. I've been working two jobs and most of my free time is devoted to hockey.

This past weekend, I played in a Scrabble tournament in Raleigh: my second career tournament. I played well enough to take third place in my division, and although I felt like I should have taken second, and could have won, I'm still okay with third.

On the first day, players are randomly placed into groups of four, and they play a round robin. I easily defeated all three opponents (504-251; 441-290; 375-295) and had a cumulative point spread of +484 after three games. Unlike college football, the margin of victory is important. You never call off the dogs when you're crushing someone. You never play "third string" words. By the end of the tournament, cumulative point spread might be a deciding factor in whether you take home any prizes or how your rating changes.

On the second day, eight games are played using a modified Swiss pairing, followed by a king of the hill. I'm still not 100% sure about all the complexities of the modified Swiss system, but it basically means that players go against others players with similar win-loss records. The pairings are re-seeded after each game, and they are based on the previous game. To be more clear: While game six is in progress, the pairings for game seven are posted based on the results of game five. It isn't necessarily the case that winners play winners, but those who are doing well play each other.

So I started game four as the overall #1 seed in my division. I had good games for games 4-6, beating everyone (including both players who eventually finished ahead of me) and building my point spread to a stout +745 after six games. I was drawing well, I was "seeing the board" well, I was bingoing with ease, I was hitting hot spots. I was doing everything right.

In game 7, my opponent, who had a reputation for being an ass (and a bad player), didn't show up. He broke for lunch early. Or he was scared to play me. I don't know. Anyway, I sat there while his timer ran down to zero, earning a forfeit win. I think I would have beaten him by a bunch if we had actually played, but the rules are that a forfeit is a 50 point win. I took it, and at the lunch break I was still undefeated and in first place.

After lunch, there were four more games. As the leaders started to separate themselves from the pelloton, the games got tougher. The people who had ended up in the top four by freak accident got beat down. There would be no more easy victories for me. In those last four games on Saturday, I won two and lost two. One of the losses was bad, but they were both to the guy who ended up winning. Even after losing two, I was still in first place at 9-2. However, I knew it wouldn't be easy to keep it. I knew I would have to play Jeffrey at least one more time. Although I had gone 1-2 against him, I felt like he had an upper hand.

I played the #3 guy, and lost a very close game that went back and forth for the whole game. In the later portion of the game, he played ROUX for 57 points (x on the double letter, the whole thing tripled). He told me later that he would not have known that word except that he was forced to study his list of short words ending in -x after I played ILEX against him for big points the previous day. A well played game for both of us, ending in a 403-383 loss for me.

Next, I played the #4 guy, and had another barn burner. Back and forth for most of the game with a really closed off board. Very late in the game, with a very favorable rack, and in need of a bingo, I took a big gamble playing off a single letter in a place that made my intentions obvious. Because I was tracking the tiles, I knew what was left, and I knew that my opponent couldn't block my set-up (AL - to which I wanted to hook an E). I was left with AEEINR0 . Since I study dorky lists, and memorize mnemonic devices, I knew that my options were to make that blank either a T or a G. If I made it a T, my options were ARENITE, RETINAE and TRAINEE. All of those are very common to Scrabble players. I knew that if I made the blank a G, the only valid seven letter word is REGINAE. The last E hooks on to the aforementioned AL. REGINAE is a pretty uncommon word, and I guessed that it might draw a challenge, which would give me more breathing room. After some consternation, there was no challenge. The play put me barely in the lead. Fortunately, I was able to play off the last three tiles on my next turn, winning the game 412-382.

I was 10-2 and Jeffrey was 11-1. I would have to beat Jeffrey twice in a row to get first place. I would have to win the first game to guarantee a second place finish. I was already locked into no lower than third, but the pressure was on. Jeffrey and I both played poorly, but thanks to a strategic error on my part where I was greedy, I left the door open enough for Jeffrey to win 352-313. Meanwhile, John lost to Mark, leaving me with a chance to finish second.

They tried to make me play Jeffrey again, but I demanded that he be Gibsonized so that I would have a chance to win second place. Jeffrey had already secured first place. The 15th round game was moot for him, so it doesn't make sense for him to play the #2 guy. He could go in collusion with the #2 guy, and lose on purpose, which helps the #2 guy and screws the #3 guy out of his chance. Gibsonizing means that the #1 guy is taken out of the mix. The #2 and #3 guys play each other, and the #1 guy plays the highest seeded person who is out of the money. In this case, there were only three prizes, so he played the #4 guy.

After all that commotion, I lost my final game badly. I got behind by a bunch early and played like a desperate player trying to get it all back on one play.

Still, getting third out of 19 isn't bad. I walked out of there with $90 in prize money, and after all the red tape is taken care of, I'll have a better rating with the NSA than I did before. Most likely, I'll get to play in one more tournament in the low "novice" division before I get moved into the next highest division. The competition will be a bit tougher there, and It'll take me several tournaments to work my way up those ranks. So my last shot to win some money will be in late January in Charlotte.

Up soon : a post about a crazy set of dreams I had on Friday night.

Now playing:

Bettie Serveert Palomine

Superstar in your own private movie; I wanted just a minor part

Here's the thing.

I like to make games of just about anything. Fortunately, at work, there are a bunch of other guys who like to make games out of the same things. We have several games involving the radio. The oft-mentioned "Two-fer Tuesday" game used to be the only one, but now there's a new one. The way we play this game, though, is a sad indicator that we spend WAY too much time playing fantasy sports.

The way this game works is that we get to pick songs we think the station will play. The format of the station we listen to isn't important here, but let's just say it's a pretty specific format. Before we start working, three of us select ten songs that we think will be played in the course of the day. We have a slection order (a "draft order", if you will), and the selection order reverses order in even numbered "draft" rounds. Just like fantasy sports drafts. After the "draft" is over, all remaining songs become "free agents" and can be picked up. It's not that simple, though. There's a waiver wire priority, just like in fantasy sports. Once I pick up a "free agent" and drop a song to even my roster, I move to the back of the waiver queue.

Trading is permissible, only if the other player(s) approve. It's quite complex, and if anyone working that day doesn't play fantasy sports, they're really confused by these rules, which have not quite been fully developed.

If any player gets two of their songs played back-to-back, the other players have to give him $1 each. Three songs = $2 each, and so on. So far, nobody has made any money off of this, and as you might imagine, the scoring is pretty low.

In comparison to the "Two-fer Tuesday" game, where the scoring might go something like 7-5-4, the scoring of the "music carousel" is often 2-2-1.

However, the "Two-fer" game has an added dimention that has nothing to do with the radio. Bonus points can be had for being proficient at a carnival-style game of chance.

Don't ask me. I just work here.

Coming soon -- a post about "new car shower-offers" and commentary about TO.

we may be hidden by rags, but we've something they'll never have

So here's what I was thinking.

The whistle is a very underrated musical instrument. People forget that it's not just for referees and traffic cops. It's a brilliant musical instrument. Sure, it can only play one note, but still it's cool. And under-used.

There are many examples of songs in which the use of a whistle solo made it that much cooler. Right now, I'm thinking of three.

Guns N Roses -- Paradise City
Supertramp -- The Logical Song
Led Zeppelin -- Fool in the Rain

What are some others?

now playing:

Mogwai Young Team

pigs, they tend to wiggle when they walk

As promised, here is the very pavement-esque moment I had at work the other day.

One of the guys brought in a cd with a bunch of Michael McDonald on it. Some of the younger guys had no idea what it was they were hearing. Granted, some of his solo stuff was garbage, but for a white guy, he could really belt out some songs.

One guy, who really doesn't know anything about music unless it's on top 40 radio, or rap, commented about McDonald's voice. "Man, he's got a really high singing voice. I wonder how he talks.". In any other circumstance, this would be an obvious reference to the Pavement song "Stereo", but this kid doesn't know anything about Pavement, has never heard the song. It was completely unintentional. Nonetheless, I had no option but to reply "He speaks like an ordinary guy". Since the joke would have been wasted, I left out the "I know him, and he does" part.

See how uneventful my life is?

they listen to teeth to learn how to quit

Today, in Prague, the International Astronomical Union has booted Pluto out of the Planetary Union. At their 26th annual meeting, they declassified the planet, demoting it to the status of "dwarf planet", putting it in the same class with comets and asteroids.

NASA has not shelved its $700M mission to Pluto, saying that it is interested in Pluto whether it is called a "planet" or a "garden hose".

NASA said Thursday that Pluto's demotion would not affect its US$700 million New Horizons spacecraft mission, which earlier this year began a 9 1/2-year journey to the oddball object to unearth more of its secrets.

''We will continue pursuing exploration of the most scientifically interesting objects in the solar system, regardless of how they are categorized,'' Paul Hertz, chief scientist for the science mission directorate, said in a statement.

Translation: "It's too late to turn back now"

They said that a "planet" must maintain its own gravitational force and have a reasonably "round" orbit around the sun. Pluto is being declassified because it has an orbit that crosses path with Neptune.

This. Changes. Everything.

As a kid, growing up, I was taught a mnemonic device for remembering the planetary order:
Mary's Violet Eyes Make John Stay Up Nights Praying
for
Mercury Venus Earth Mars Jupiter Saturn Uranus Neptune Pluto

Now what?

I don't like the idea of having John Stay Up Nights without a purpose. We need a new mnemonic device.

Who else learned different devices to remember the planetary order? Will yours work without Pluto in the mix?

Pluto has long been the center of much controversy. Most people recognize that Pluto is Mickey Mouse's pet dog. At some times, though, Pluto was also known to be the property of the irascible Donald Duck. Still, at other times, Pluto was Goofy's pet. Although it makes very little sense for a mouse or a duck to have a pet dog, it's bordering on ludicrousness for a dog to have a pet dog. You tell me.

coming soon: a post on a very Pavement-esque moment at work the other day.

now playing:

Throwing Muses The Real Ramona

with the light from the tv running parallel to you

I don't watch a lot of tv these days. I'm actually considering getting rid of my cable. I could save some serious dough that way, but it would cause some serious trouble when hockey season starts. Football, I'll be able to watch without having cable. Not hockey, though.

Anyway, lately I've been watching a good bit of tv. It seems like these damned Volkswagen commercials are on all the damned time. Maybe it's just me, but I'm annoyed by them more than most other commercials.

After running a series of comedic "stereotyping is stupid" ads, they're running a series now about the four-star crash rating the Jetta has. You know the ones.

The message is that if you buy a Jetta, especially a Campanella White one, the following will happen

• You'll be surrounded by friends who are wonderfully witty, ethnically diverse, and very good looking.
  
• One day when you're driving with one of said friends, a driver of an American-made truck will either blindly pull out of his driveway or run a red light, slamming into your new white Jetta
  
• the car will be damaged slightly, and all passengers will be uninjured, leaving you to exclaim "Holy Shit!"

I've been thinking about those commercials and how they might also take a different approach. Sometimes the Jetta driver might be alone in the car. Sometimes he might be in an accident where he is at fault. Sometimes his friends might be ugly. And white.

I wouldn't suggest that they go to this particular extreme, but I have an acquaintance who was recently in a very bad single car accident in which he was driving a new Jetta. He was doing something very stupid in addition to being drunk. He lost control of his vehicle, slammed into a tree and ended up unconscious. It took rescue crews 2 hours, using the "jaws of life" to extract him from the car. The car was completely demolished, but somehow he escaped with "only" two broken arms, some broken ribs, a dislocated knee, and some facial lacerations.

I don't know whether it was the safety engineering or the "hand of Todd" (I suspect the former), but this guy has no business being alive right now. I hope (but doubt) that he has learned a lesson.

now playing:

Broken Social Scene Broken Social Scene

you get the ankles and i'll get the wrists

After reading Reid's post about revenue sharing and competitiveness in professional sports, I got to thinking about something that I was already thinking about. Reid mentioned that revenue sharing is good for the overall health of a professional sports league because it enables smaller market teams with shallower pockets to be able to field competitive teams. Although he doesn't specifically mention it, this only works in conjunction with a HARD salary cap, which prevents deep pocket teams from signing superstars at will. He linked to a New York Times article, which, in honesty, I didn't bother to click through.

The NFL, and now the NHL have hard salary caps, meaning that there is a maximum amount a team can spend on player salaries, and that the team may not, for any reason, exceed that cap. The respective League will nullify any player contract that puts the team over the cap. Where I'm a little cloudy, though, is how those things actually work. As of this moment, for example, the New Jersey Devils are (in theory) well above the $44M cap set for the 2006-07 season. They have until opening night to shed their salaries. It's presupposed that they'll trade one or more of their high-dollar players for "future considerations".

Each respective League has different ways of dealing with how multi-year contracts count towards the salary cap, and each League has a very dense tome for a Collective Bargaining Agreement, and fans of each sport will geekily proclaim "Yeah, I've read the CBA", but in actuality, nobody could possibly read and understand these 4- and 500 page documents.

Blah, blah, blah.

To my knowledge, Major League Baseball is uncapped, meaning that teams like the New York Yankees can spend and spend to their heart's content. This, to me, is far more important than the idea of revenue sharing. Sure, they'll be mad at the idea of having to send money to an escrow account that is shared by smaller market teams. I used to have this argument all the time with a former acquaintance. He would say that teams like the Pirates and (back then, when they still existed) the Expos should simply "make better business decisions" and they would be a more competitive team. I would say that it didn't matter what kinds of brilliant decisions they made and what kinds of player development they used if certain teams have unlimited financial resources to sign superstars (and are not held in check) while others don't.

The NBA, to my knowledge, uses a "soft" salary cap, meaning that teams are allowed to exceed the set upper limit under certain circumstances. I don't know what the cap is in that league, and I can't get a straight answer from their NBA CBA FAQ page (sorry for the alphabet soup), but I'm guessing that it's insanely high, to where few teams even sniff the upper limit.

Anyway, I didn't actually come here to write about Collective Bargaining Agreements and Salary Caps and legal mumbo-jumbo. I meant to touch on something else that Reid mentioned in his post.

He says that without revenue sharing, there's a likelihood of certain franchises simply becoming championship factories, while the others become less and less competitive and the fans become bored. There has always been the argument that the NFL and the NBA and Major League Baseball and the NHL have expanded too much, and the talent pool is stretched thin. I don't really buy that. That's not my point either.

My point is one of silly trivia. Prior to the 2005-06 season, the NHL was uncapped, and no revenue sharing was used, and the New York Rangers and Detroit Red Wings of the world had payrolls of $77M, while most other teams were spending around $20. With deep pockets, they could pack their rosters with superstars, then pack them even more at the March trade deadline with a deep playoff run in mind. Again. Not my point. My point is one of silly, useless trivia.

In the last 17 NHL seasons, dating back to 1989, 17 DIFFERENT teams have lost in the Stanley Cup Finals. A different team each of the last 17 seasons. No team has lost twice.

1989 Montréal Canadiens
1990 Boston Bruins
1991 Minnesota NorthStars¹
1992 Chicago Blackhawks
1993 Los Angeles Kings
1994 Vancouver Canucks
1995 Detroit Red Wings
1996 Florida Panthers
1997 Philadelphia Flyers
1998 Washington Capitals
1999 Buffalo Sabres
2000 Dallas Stars¹
2001 New Jersey Devils
2002 Carolina Hurricanes
2003 Anaheim Mighty Ducks
2004 Calgary Flames
2005 no Cup -- lockout
2006 Edmonton Oilers

Pretty cool, huh? Amazingly, during that 17 season span, 11 different teams have won the cup, and only the Penguins (1991, 1992) and Red Wings (1997, 1998) have won back-to-back in that span. In this time span, four additional teams have won, but not lost (Tampa in 2004; Colorado in 1996 and 2001; Pittsburgh in 1991 and 1992; New York Rangers in 1994) . The point is that in the past 17 seasons, 21 out of the League's 30 teams have made it all the way to the Stanley Cup Finals. You don't have to go that much further back in the books to see the Islanders and the Maple Leafs. Only a few teams have never been to the Finals, and for the most part, they're the new-new-new teams like Nashville, Columbus, and Atlanta, or the new-new (and/or relocated franchises) like San Jose and Phoenix. Not only does this demonstrate that even before the new CBA, hockey wasn't nearly as dynastic as people would have thought, but it shows some level of parity in the league. More importantly, it's a good bar trick, and sure to win you a bet or two. There's no way that anyone is still reading this ridiculous post, but if you are, go out drinking tonight, and challenge someone to a round of drinks. Nobody will ever believe you that there's been a streak of 17 consecutive DIFFERENT SCF losers, but you'll win some drinks by knowing this fact.

Too obscure? I know. How bout this one? Similar in nature, but more mainstream.
In the last 13 years, dating back to 1994, there have been 13 different losing Superbowl teams.

1994 Buffalo Bills
1995 San Diego Chargers
1996 Pittsburgh Steelers
1997 New England Patriots
1998 Green Bay Packers
1999 Altanta Falcons
2000 Tennessee Titans
2001 New York Giants
2002 St. Louis Rams
2003 Oakland Raiders
2004 Carolina Panthers
2005 Philadelphia Eagles
2006 Seattle Seahawks

In that 13 year span, there have been nine different winners, and there have been two who did it in back-to-back fashion. The Denver Broncos (1998, 1999) and the New England Patriots (2004, 2005).

I won't go to the trouble of enumerating them, but in the 18 year span going back to 1989 (for NHL comparison), the NBA has had 12 different teams lose in the finals. The streak of different losers is currently 4. In that time frame, there have only been six different winners. Two of those are also on the "loser" list. 16 different teams have reached the Final.

In baseball, dating back to 1989, 10 different teams have lost in the World Series, and 11 different teams have won. Three teams are on both lists, so there have been 18 different teams that have reached the Final.

Anyway, I'm done with this. Really, I just wanted an excuse to point out that bit about the streak of 17 different Stanley Cup Finals losers. It's freakish.

now playing:

The Boo Radleys Giant Steps

¹ People will surely scream out "Oh, but The Minnesota NorthStars and the Dallas Stars are the same franchise!". They'd be only partially correct. Technically, yes. However, there was a merger of two teams, a dissolution of said merger, a change in ownership, an organization re-structuring, and a geographic move that make it sort of strange to call them the "same" franchise. Either way, 17 different cities have watched their team lose the Cup in 17 consecutive seasons.

'coz I can't see further than my own nose at this moment

It's been a while...
I had this notion that I was going to participate in the 2006 Blogathon, which is a 24-hour blog fest going on this Saturday. Bloggers of all kinds from across the world (although presumably mostly in North America) will be writing till their fingers bleed and their eyes pop out. The rules are that you have to post something once every 30 minutes, and that writing stuff ahead of time and post-timing it is not permitted. Sleep if you want, but only for VERY short bursts of a few minutes. 24 hours. 48 posts. Why? It's a charity thing. You get people to sponsor you as you raise money for your selected charity. Pledges can be made on a per hour rate, or a flat donation.
You can learn all about it by clicking the link above, or the button on the sidebar.

I learned about the thing as the registration deadline was fast approaching. I was already scheduled to work that day, and I couldn't work anything out to free up my schedule. However, I've sponsored a blogger I've never met (or even read for that matter).

If you're interested in sponsoring someone, just click through the link and you'll find a button for a list of blogs or a list of affiliated charities.

Two of my daily read hockey blogs are participating.
--Alanah Downie, from the brilliant Vancouver Canucks Op-Ed will be blogging away while raising money for Canuck Place Children's Hospice

--Michael Fedor, who writes Confessions of a Hockey Fanatic may or may not be participating. If so, he's presumably supporting The Mario Lemieux Foundation.

Other people who are complete strangers to me, but who are supporting causes that are very close to me:
--"Dreama", who writes Random Again is raising money for The Leukemia & Lymphoma Society.

And finally, "Aurora Lamour", who writes The Beauty of Love, will be writing and raising money for The Lupus Foundation of America.

Please stop by some of these blogs on Saturday, starting at 9:00 am eastern time, all the way to 9:00 am on Sunday. Even if you don't give them financial support, give them moral support.

Stop by the main site and take a look around.

In a month or so, some of us may be doing a hockey blogathon with some modified rules. If we can get the particulars nailed down, I'll keep everyone posted.

now playing:

another season crashes to an end

As promised, here are the Top 11 things that make Canadian Football sucky. I had to do a lot of research on this, and there were some things that didn't make the list, but it actually was kind of difficult to come up with 11 things. It was even harder to put them in the proper order.

I'm open to suggestions on improving the list, but here's my take.

• 11. "Designated Imports". In the Canadian Football League, each team's roster must consist of 20 Canadians, 19 "imports" and 3 Quarterbacks. Why the quarterbacks have their own designation, I don't know. There are further requirements about the number of "imports" that have to be on the field at a given time. In substitution situations, whenever an "import" comes off the field, one must go on. I don't know.
  
• 10. The "C" and the 54 yard line". The Canadian Football field is longer and wider than the American counterpart. 110 yards long, to be exact. That's fine, except that Canada is one of those funky places that uses the metric system. It would seem more metrically perfect for their field to be 100 yards long, like ours, instead of 110. The center of the field is marked with a "C", for centre. Of course it seems weird to us for there to be such a thing as a 54 yard line, but my objection is that 55 being the center doesn't make sense from a metric standpoint.
  
• 9. Twelve men. Canadian Football allows 12 men on the field per team, whereas we allow 11. Their positions are a little different, accordingly. I don't like it. I think 11 men is a bit much, for the record.
  
• 8. Punting on third down. In Canadian Football, you are allowed three downs to progress 10 yards, compared to four downs here. Sure, there's a familiararity thing about why punting on third down is strange. However, that system has a much smaller margin for error. An unsuccessful play on first down, and your back's already against the wall.
  
• 7. Crowd noise. Canadian Football takes the home field advantage right out of the home field advantage. If a team cannot get a play off because of crowd noise, they can request a non-charged time out. They can do this up to three times per game, and the referee has the option to penalize the home team for excessive crowd noise. Bullshit.
  
• 6. The "Rouge". A team is awarded one point if they punt, kickoff, or miss a field goal, the ball ends up in the end zone, and the defending team can't advance out of the endzone. There's no "taking a knee" -- you have to try to bring it out. A missed field goal is a live ball, and must be returned. There are some really complicated issues surrounding the allowance of an "open field free kick" in this situation, but I'd rather not get into that. As a history lesson, the reason it's called a "rouge" is that in the early days, instead of adding one point to the kicking team's score, one point was deducted from the defending team's score. Sometimes, a previously scoreless team would take a one-point deduction, putting them "in the red" at -1.
  
• 5. League size. Currently there are 8 active teams in the Canadian Football League (plus one suspended team -- Ottawa Renegades). By all accounts, there hasn't really ever been more than nine teams. In the 1980's there was a brief experiment with expansion into the US, with the ultimate goal of 10 Canadian and 10 US teams, but that failed. I don't know. It just seems absurd to have a major professional sports league with just 8 teams. Winning the Grey Cup is quite a bit like winning the prize for "cutest left-handed 9-year old kid in the cul-de-sac". Not much competition.
  
• 4. Montréal Alouettes. One of the most storied franchises in the CFL is also one of the most laughed at. They were founded in 1946, and did just fine until things started to get shaken up in the eighties. After struggling financially, the team folded and was immediately replaced by the Montréal Concordes. They played for three seasons, but struggled with brand recognition. In 1986, they were re-named the "New Alouettes". That only lasted one season, and on the day the 1987 season started, the team folded. Seven years later, the CFL expanded into the United States. One of those teams, the Baltimore Stallions, eventually relocated to Montréal. In 1996, the Alouettes were re-born. This is the third different team to call themselves the Montréal Alouettes. And we thought that Oakland/LA/Oakland Raiders thing was bad.
  
• 3. Baltimore Stallions. As stated in #4, the CFL had a pipe dream of a League with 10 Canadian teams and 10 US teams. They ran into some trouble with the US franchises, because our existing stadiums cannot be configured to accommodate the length of the Canadian field. Not only is the playing field longer by 10 yards, but the end zones are also longer by 10 yards apiece, meaning there's an extra 30 yards needed. Some teams had to be creative with the end zones to make it happen. Baltimore was far and away the most successful of the "CFL USA" teams. They were in the Grey Cup two seasons in a row, losing in 1994 and winning in 1995. The "American Experiment" ended a few years later, and Baltimore will always live in infamy as the American team to win the Canadian game.
  
• 2. Rough Riders / Roughriders. One word, or two. This is the same damn name. For a long time, the 8-team CFL had TWO teams named the Rough Riders. So amazingly unimaginative. A long time ago, my friend Neil suggested that the only reason there isn't a professional kickball league is that every team would want to be called the "Kickers". Tonight, it's the Phoenix Kickers against the Jacksonville Kickers. Plenty of good seats available! Anyway, the (and I have to keep emphasizing this) 8-team league had only six teams that were NOT named "rough riders". There was (and still is) the Saskatchewan Roughriders (one word), and the now defunct Ottawa Rough Riders (two words). On four occasions, the two teams met for the Grey Cup. Ottawa has won three of those matchups.
  
• 1. Drafting dead guys. Either the CFL has a really liberal policy on allowing players to be draft eligible, or the General Managers of certain Canadian clubs are morons. Two times in the history of the Canadian Football League, a deceased person was actually drafted. Not surprisingly, both gaffes were by teams I've already called out. In 1995, the Ottawa Rough Riders drafted defensive end Derrell Robertson, only to find out that he had died in a car crash five months previous. The next draft, the Montréal Alouettes were surprised to see defensive end James Eggink still available in the fifth round. They selected him, but found out a few hours later that he had lost his battle with cancer four months previous.

There are lots of other reasons, and I concede that some of these are nit-picky, but that's all I have for today.

now playing:

American Football American Football

playing tracks six and seven again and again

Holy crud! Two posts in one day! What's the world coming to?

Since my "inbox" and "outbox" are full, and since I've been threatening to do this for some time now, and since it gives me something to write about, I'd like to share some of my favorite ingoing/outgoing text messages from my phone. Many of them are from/to the same person. If you're reading (and I know you are), you know who you are.

Because it's been my life and blood for the past three nine months, many of these are related to hockey.

INCOMING:

• Scrabble is 4 losers
  
• New rule: Never ever NEVER EVER EVER put your pom pom in your ballcap so you look like a cartoon Billy Ray Cyrus
  
• My mom says chocolate chip cookies represent the mongrel race
  
• Congrats! See you soon, bitches!
  
• Oh. plenty o' beer
  
• That KFC "meal" looks like a poultry abortion
  
• Damn homey. Yr gonna look like John Walker Lindh. Go Canes!
  
• Don't be shy on the TX Pete
  
• Bad Russian goalie, this one
  
• Can read yr sign all the way over here
  
• god... You guys have to be so damn good...
  
• PS I like the new Dandy Warhols. Fuck PFM. Thx for the CD. See you Saturday.
  
• **GREAT** assist by Staalsy!
  
• JoVa looks stoned on the bench
  
• You exhaled??? Wait ... Me too
  
• I'd be too. "Outcapitalized" is the new word for "lost"
  
• I am not cake or a lesbian. Enjoy the game.
  
• Dang. Ain't no sandwiches during soccer.
  
• McCreary and Watson tonite. McGeough won't even be in the building.
  
• Have you taken your pants off yet?
  
• I BELIEVE!!!
  
• and what about that beard?

OUTGOING:

• Makin' out yet?
  
• Hedican is a BEAST!! Great PK
  
• Lavi looks like a genius with that change in goal
  
• I dunno. Still at work. FedEx usually arrives at 4. Are they sweet?
  
• McGeough sux
  
• Finnish?
  
• Good team against a bad goalie
  
• I heart you??
  
• Oilers are too cute with their passes
  
• WOW!! Great killing
  
• If they showed a running total, it would rock
  
• You see the pressers? MacT was a little bit snippy
  
• By the way, Oilers.com has WAY better lineup cards
  
• Chili good to go.

Now that I have a permanent record of these, I can delete all the messages. Sweet.

Coming very soon: a "top 11" list of reasons that Canadian football sucks.

now playing:

Camera Obscura Let's Get Out of This Country

i thought it was you that i had chased

Yeah. So one week later, I have the joy of telling you that I was indeed the happiest person you know on Monday of last week.

My Carolina Hurricanes defeated the Edmonton Oilers 3-1 in game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals, earning the first championship for the Whalers/Canes franchise, and pissing off "original 8" hardliners everywhere.

As soon as the game was over, and as soon as I watched the presentation of the (holy FUCK) Cup, and as soon as I made it throught the line for hat/t-shirt, I went to the parking lot, had champagne with my friends Bill and Beth, and I shaved my awful beard.

The beard was good to me, and it was apparently good to the team.

A quick primer for the non-hockey fans. Sometime in the 1980's, when the New York Islanders were good, they were the ones to start the tradition of the playoff beard. Everyone on the team grew a beard, and refused to shave until the whole thing was over. They won three Cups in a row, so it must have worked. The rest of the league took notice, and it slowly took off from there. Individual players started doing it, and by now, almost every player on every team decides to stop shaving during the playoffs.

There are a few rules. The shaving stops either on the last day of the regular season, or on the first day of the playoffs. That really isn't important. The important thing is that there is no shaving. Period. No trimming, no grooming. Nothing. They just let what happens happen. Some will say that it's okay to shave after losing any game, so as to build new mojo, but most people frown upon that.

The best example of a really kickass playoff beard is that of Lanny McDonald who was a phenomenal player with a 17-year NHL career. He ended his career with the Calgary Flames, winning the Cup there in 1989. His playoff beard (and his full-time moustache) is legendary.

Sometime in the mid-late '90s, fans started playing along with the playoff beard. Since I don't have a wife (or even a girlfriend), and I don't have a job that requires a clean shave, I thought I would grow one. I stopped shaving on April 17, the day before the final regular season game. As a season ticket holder, I had the rights to playoff tickets in my same seat, and I exercised that right. In game 7 of the Eastern Conference Finals against the Buffalo Sabres, my beard earned me some world-wide attention. I carried a sign into the game that said "My Beard Believes". I was caught on OLN (in the US), CBC (in Canada), and one or both of these feeds was available all over the world. When I got home from that game, I had about a half dozen e-mails from places like Tucson, AZ; Toronto, ON; Vancouver, BC; and Stockholm, Sweden saying they'd seen me on TV. I've never met these people in real life, but they recognized me in a three second tv shot. That was pretty sweet.

Anyway, I had my moment of fame, and my Canes won. I had been getting negative reviews of the 63-day beard from women, and I knew full well that it looked terrible. However, I was devoted to my team, and it paid off.

After all that stuff with the game, I went to shave the beard. I had hoped that I would take it off slowly and document it in hilarious fashion like some of my hockey blogging acquaintances, but I was in a hurry to get it off.

I took some pictures, but couldn't quite make it as funny as some of those guys. Even if you don't like hockey, or beards, I encourage you to visit the links below. I'll share my beard-shaving post in its entirety, and strongly encourage you to click to the links:

If I get to do this thing 900 times in my life, I'll never be able to do it as brilliantly as did Sacamano, over at BofA. His beard-removal post and the accompanying photos will soon be the stuff of legends. Both for its elaborateness and its high level of comedy. If you didn't read his post when he de-bearded in early June, do so now. EDIT---Also, check out the great beard removal by Chris!, over at Covered in Oil, who removed his whiskers on Tuesday afternoon.

I didn't take nearly as many photos of the process, nor did I do it in any elaborate fashion whatsoever. I was in a hurry to get than damn thing off my face so women would stop telling me that they hate my beard. Now they can revert to telling me that they hate me. If, for some bizarre reason, you need to see enlargements of these photos, just click on them.

With the help of a $20 set of clippers (which worked magnificently, by the way), I was able to reduce the beard to mere stubble. Good enough for the drive home. With the help of my friends Bill and Beth, I got photographic evidence. In the first picture, I'm going after the stuff on the neck, and I've already gotten most of one side of my face. I didn't really have a plan (or a mirror) at that point. I thought about trying to match Sacamano's beard removal, going for different styles and designs along the way, but really I just wanted it off.

As you can see from the second picture, I decided to go for the ole' half-n-half. I think this will be a facial hair sensation that will take over the world. You saw it here first. Without a mirror, I had no idea how I was doing with the evenness of it, but I'm pretty pleased with how that stage of it came along.

Then, I came up with a style that's absolutely retarded. I wish, in retrospect, I had some shots of all this in profile, or some video clips of this, but I didn't plan it out very well, and like I say, I was on a freakin' mission. In the third photo, you can see that I've removed all of it except for the half-stache. Again, I have a hunch that this will be a fashion trend. Sure, laugh all you want. I have more stupid ideas where that one came from.

Finally, the end result. A (mostly) clean shaven face that I haven't seen or felt in 63 days. I'm very excited to no longer look like some terrorist or freak cult leader. Or Jake Plummer. The woman beside me in the picture is Bill's wife Beth. .

I'd like to thank my beard (RIP) for all the fun times we had together. I will always remember it.

...and i'm keeping it full of ice on your advice

Tonight, dear friends, my whole world will be defined.

As you may know, I am quite passionate about hockey and my Carolina Hurricanes. Tonight is game 7 of the Stanley Cup finals.

Somewhere around 11:00 tonight, I will either become the happiest person you know, or the most soul-crushingly depressed person you know.

Please think of me and my boys. Better yet, watch the game on NBC, starting at 8:00. If you're lucky, you'll see me and my horrid beard on national TV.

Peace out.

those who find themselves ridiculous sit down next to me

It might seem like it, but I haven't fallen off the face of the earth.

I haven't posted here in over a month, and I have almost nothing to say.

I've been monumentally busy with hockey. Going to the games, writing the blog. I'm obsessive about it. Thanks to the team's success, and my insano mad-man devotion to it, the blog over there has really taken off. When I started writing that thing back in July of last year, I was getting about 40 page loads a day. These days, I can hardly believe my eyes when I look at the statcounter and it tells me I had two days last week where I hit close to 700, and I never get less than 300. Every once in a while, someone comes along and says nice stuff about me, and I've gotten a few mainstream media shoutouts. That's almost as exciting to me as the Canes run to the Cup final. Speaking of which, The Canes are up 2-1 in the best-of-seven Stanley Cup Finals against the Edmonton Oilers, and this is very nearly the only thing I care about right now. When it's all over, the summer months will be less blogtastic over there, and I should be able to resume my writing here.

On Saturday, I went to my friend Bill's house to watch the road game. He had a really fancy, elaborate setup with a high-def projector showing the game on his garage door. We treated it just like it was a home game, cooking brats on the grill and drinking beer in the parking lot. Only the "parking lot" was more like his driveway. The game had an unfavorable end, but the event was fun.

After the game, I thought about driving back from north of Raleigh, but Bill and his wife Beth talked me out of it. Bill and I stayed up for a while watching some of his music dvds. James -- Getting Away With It -- live, which was from the last concert that great band ever performed. We just watched a bit of it, but I really liked it.

Somehow, this got us to watching the Björk Volumen collection, which invariably led us to a discussion about the brilliance of Michel Gondry (including his feature films), Chris Cunningham, Spike Jonze, Stéphane Sednaoui, and anyone who's ever directed her. This led to the bringing out of the Director's Label Boxed set (Volume 2), featuring the works of Sednaoui, Jonathan Glazer, Anton Corbin, and Mark Romanek. We finally settled in on the Glazer collection, which is really awesome.

We had a good time hanging out, watching music videos and all that. For some reason, though, Bill didn't have any of the live Björk stuff. Tonight, I watched, from my own collection, "Live at Shepherd's Bush Empire", from 1997. It really is quite amazing. Quite amazing. I highly recommend it to everyone. Even strangers. Especially strangers. Worth the price of admission are "Headphones", "Possibly Maybe" (with slightly modified, better lyrics) and "Violently Happy". Hard to believe that was almost 10 years ago. Jeez, I'm getting old.

Coming in the very near future -- an exciting post about me clearing out my text messages.

Now playing:
Wilco --Yankee Hotel Foxtrot Demos

i don't know much, but other singers know less

I feel bad about the fact that once again, I've begun to neglect this place.

I'm alive. I'm well.

It's just that I've been massively busy. Not with work, but with hockey. The Stanley Cup playoffs have begun, and I've attended the Canes home games thus far, and have watched a LOT of the other series in the playoffs on tv.

Between going to games, watching on tv, and keeping the hockey blog updated, I haven't had much time. I've also been asked to participate in an "e-roundtable" by a major Canadian media outlet. That hasn't been as fun as I thought it would be, nor as interactive, but it's cool.

Actually, I wrote a post at the hockey place that may be of interest to many of the readers of this blog. It's about how OLN (which is the new cable home of the NHL) will be changing its name to Versus. Yeah. That's right. Versus. If you want to read it, here's that post.

No word on whether Richard and Ed Baluyut will be asked to write the network's new theme music.

now playing:

Versus The Stars are Insane

it looks like your left hand don't love me

I'm doing a little bit of housecleaning around here.

First, I eliminated the entire "Bands I (mostly) know" section of the sidebar. Most of the bands were either defunct or on their deathbed. In some cases, my friends have moved on to other bands, but for the time being, I'm not going to have that feature anymore.

For funsies, I've added another link to the "Random Goofy Stuff" section. You may already know about this, but 30 Second Bunny Theater is some good shit. Some well known motion pictures have been condensed to 30 seconds and animated with bunnies playing every part. The bunny Resevoir Dogs is really great.

I recently downloaded the audioscrobbler thing, which would automatically display my most recently played stuff in iTunes, but I'm having some difficulty getting it to function properly. I'll work on that some more.

inside that pandora's box was a can of worms

These days, it seems like everyone I know is having babies. In the last few months especially. Almost every day I hear about someone else having one.

However, last Thursday I received some news of a very different variety. I was sad to find out that Millicent King, who founded the Winston-Salem Scrabble Club passed away on March 1. She had been doing battle with colon cancer, but remained active, positive and upbeat.

I started going to the Winston-Salem Scrabble club about two and a half years ago after I read Stefan Fatsis' Word Freak. I immediately felt at home there, largely because of Millicent's encouragement. Any time there was a new person there, she welcomed them and played with them and always found a way to offer words of encouragement. She also made a lot of effort to get to know people. She asked questions and listened when you answered.

She wasn't just a fan of the game. She was a fan of the beauty of words, and of the way the games would play out. Even when she would get soundly defeated, she would be complimentary and she would point out nice plays. Not necessarily high-scoring plays, but stylistically nice plays. In my head, I can still hear her complimenting the play QIVIUT which was made on a cluttered board, where the Is were already on the board. "Oh, that's pretty" she would say.

With players who were new not only to the competitive format, but to the game itself, she would never be impatient. This is probably thanks to the fact that she was for 31 years a special education teacher. Even after she retired, she substitute taught and tutored kids from her home. She also encouraged kids to play Scrabble.

Without her guidance of the Winston-Salem club and her personal encouragement, I would never have started playing "competitively" and I would not have ever had the courage to enter a tournament.

I hope I use this sad moment as impetus to get the ball rolling on starting an official club here in Greensboro. If I can have even half the impact on someone's game that she has had on me and the rest of the Winston-Salem crew, I will consider myself to be a success.

now playing:

Explosions in the Sky The Earth Is Not a Cold, Dead Place

you're turning into a poor man's donald trump

Here's a story of conicedence.

Today I had to make a quick trip inside the post office. On my way in, I noticed a car with the personalized license plate "GEEK". I kind of chuckled, envisioning some egghead programmer guy. But immediately I wondered to myself "What if they're a "real" geak. You know, a geek in the carnival performer sense of the word?" Then I further wondered whether the person with the car even knew about the carnival performer sense of the word.

When I got into the post office, I immediately noticed an exceptionally cute woman of my approximate age buying some stamps. We made a little bit of eye contact, and exchanged a quick smile, and it kind of made my day. My business in the post office was very quick, so I was back outside in time to see her drive away in the "GEEK" car.

Somehow, I thought it was perfectly fitting.

now playing:

Flaming Lips At War with the Mystics

invisible man who can sing in a visible voice

One of the many cool things about working in the restaurant industry is that you find shit all the time. People leave stuff behind all the time. So at closing time, or sometimes, the next morning, we find lots of things left behind. Sometimes in the bar, sometimes at a table. Sometimes in the parking lot. Sometimes, but rarely, we find things of value. More often than not, it's crap.

People leave umbrellas and jackets more often than anything else. They come back for them about half the time. We'll hold onto the jackets for a couple of months, at which time we'll take what we want and donate the rest.

People have also been known to leave shoes, underwear (I'm not making that up), or other articles of clothing. With some rarity, people even leave various jewelry including wedding bands. They almost always come back for the jewelry. Not surprisingly, they never come back to claim their underwear. Yes, I've seen it more than once.

Another extremely popular thing that gets left behind is the love poem or the love letter or the "Dear Jack, I hate you. Love Diane" letter. It's always fun to read these and try to put together a story behind the poem/letter.

I found one such poem a couple of weeks ago, and I've decided to share it with you, dear scrupulous and brilliant readers. See the photo on the right, which you can click on to enlarge.

The text is as follows:

Baby can you fix that
You say I's fixin to
I said baby I need it now
I can't get past line two
You said turn the volume up
So you can hear better inside your head
I said baby can you get that?
You said I's going to
I said baby why couldn't you bring that when I first asked you to
& you said baby why don't you sit down and let me take care of you
I said baby I been trying to do just that for the past 5 years
& that's the first time you asked
And you said baby I'm sorry
I been meaning to get around to you again

This was written on the back of a receipt from a dinner delivery this person got the night before. If you're interested, they ordered a 12" Italian sub, bottled water and Camel Lights. I know the place they got it from, and that's a tasty sandwich.

Most of the time when we find "letters" or "poems" they're incomplete and have lots of strikethroughs and scribbling. They usually make very little sense and are really poorly written. Not that this thing is a work of genius, but it's probably the best "found" piece of "poetry" I've come across.

I haven't invented a backstory to go with it yet. Any suggestions? I'm not looking for the actual backstory. I'm looking for fiction.

now playing:

Bettie Serveert Attagirl

more about thomas dolby

Yeah. I'm a big dork. You all read my little piece about Thomas Dolby, and specifically "She Blinded Me With Science". I didn't recall everything from memory. I had to do some research to get the name of the album and the year, for instance.

I did a "little bit" of research on the matter in order to write that post, and I kept some of it to myself.

Indeed, as Bill pointed out, Thomas Dolby was the keyboard player for Foreigner on their colossally successful "4" LP. He also played keyboards for Def Leppard on the "Pyromania" album, using the pseudonym "Booker T. Boffin".

Everyone aside from Bill might think that Thomas Dolby was a one hit wonder. You might have to think again. His current gig is creating polyphonic ring tones. You've all heard the ubiquitous annoying Nokia theme song? That's his work. He adapted a 19th century guitar piece into what is most likely the most recognizable polyphonic tone.

Another thing I kept to myself was that the album "The Golden Age of Wireless" was released and resequenced five times. I don't mean re-released or re-issued. I mean that is was released five different times in its initial run. It has a bit of a legend surrounding that. Today we wrinkle our noses at a record that's released even twice, wondering where the bonus tracks are. There were none on "Golden Age". Just a different track listing and slightly different production.

Of course we didn't think about it back in 1982, or 83, or whenever, but what a title! It didn't mean anything then. Only now, some 24 years later are we "really" in the golden age of wireless. What did we have that was wireless back then? A remote control for the TV? Maybe. If you were really fancy, you had a wireless mic, and you might have had a wireless electric guitar. But that's about it.

Right now, you probably have no fewer than four wireless devices within an arm's reach as we speak.

How did he know?

Maybe if the melody is filled with both the pain and the ecstasy of loving me

I'll make another post about music, and this time I'll take a page out of Bill's book. I'll dig up a memory from the Eighties and share it with you, dear brilliant and scrupulous readers.

My '80s: Thomas Dolby

Many of us (at least those who are my approximate age) started to like music at a really glorious time -- the early '80s. It was the confluence of UK punk, this new-fangled stuff called "new wave", anthemic rock, and another new-fangled type of thing called "synthesizer pop". Just to name a few.

Arguably the most memorable artist to emerge from the early days of the "synth-pop" genre was Thomas Dolby (nee Thomas Morgan Robertson). Virtually an unheard of tactic at the time, he did a great deal of tinkering around in the studio to produce a multitude of synthetic sounds, which he combined with real instruments to make a one-man band. Today this is pretty common, and I would guess that Trent Reznor, Kurt Ralske (Ultra Vivid Scene), Marc Bianchi (Her Space Holiday) and Trevor HollAnd (HollAnd, Sea Saw) all site Thomas Dolby as a profound influence on their career path.

Anyway, back to the point.

I used to stay up, eagerly anticipating "The Top Ten at Ten" on G-105. It was 1983. I would vacillate between "Beat it" and "Down Under". Maybe "Every Breath You Take" would be my favorite for a few weeks. Or "Electric Avenue" (insert parody lyrics "We're gonna walk down to K-Mart to buy some shoes. They only cost a dollar") would tickle my fancy for weeks on end.

My sister had introduced me to the Violent Femmes, but I wasn't cool enough to "get it". I was 12, for cryin' out loud! I still had to have my music spoon-fed to me. However, I was beginning to be able to hear some idiosynchrosies and I was able to sort of understand why I liked what I liked. I just wasn't ready for something as outside the box as Violent Femmes.

One thing I wasn't privy to, though, was the glory of stereophony. I routinely listened to music on a cruddy little clock radio, or on my parents' stereo system, which, in hindsight was never wired properly.

So I was up late one night. Beyond bedtime, waiting for the "top 10 at 10". I discovered that I could foil my parents by listening to my portable personal cassette player and am/fm radio tuner, or what Bill referred to as "jogger". It was big and bulky. About the size of a 400-page paperback book. The cassette part of it had three buttons. Play, stop/eject, and fast forward. The only way to rewind a tape was to flip it over, fast forward, then flip it back over. Not that I had a lot of tapes, or that anyone knew of a better life, but that's just how it was. The radio part worked just fine, and listening to the radio with the headphones might have been my first serious exposure to stereophony. Like I say, my parents component system wasn't really hooked up properly, and they probably had the left channel speaker situated right beside the right channel speaker anyway. They didn't and still don't care about stuff like that.

I heard "She Blinded Me With Science" on the headphones, in its stereophonic glory and I was completely blown away. HOW? CAN? HE? DO? THAT? Not only was there a lot going on, but it was all the fuck over the stereo field. I didn't know that such a thing existed. In particular, there's an extended "drum" solo towards the end of the song that ping-pongs from right to left and with varying levels of intensity in each channel. I still remember the feeling I had when I realized what was going on.

For weeks, I would call the station, requesting the song so I could re-live that. I would listen to the "top ten at 10" and bask in the stereophonic goodness of Mr. Dolby's triumph.

Then it occurred to me. Why don't I just tape it, and then listen to it whenever I wanted? Well, the component cassette deck my parents had wasn't going to do the job. Either it didn't have a "line in", or the ancient amp/tuner didn't have an auxiliary "line out". Or my parents didn't care enough to set the damn thing up properly. I wasn't clever enough to figure it out, either. No problem, I thought. I'll just use the portable tape recorder. You know. Just like the one that Rerun used to make a bootleg of the Doobie Brothers concert. It weighed about 10 pounds and was roughly the size of a hard-bound Webster's Collegiate Dictionary. I'd hold it up to the radio, tell my sister so shut the fuck up for four minutes while I was recording, and it would be all good. Of course I could have gotten a ride to the mall and blown my allowance at Record Bar on a copy of The Golden Age of Wireless. But why would I do that when I could get my own copy from the radio for free?

We all remember doing this as a kid. You had to patiently wait for the moment your song came on. Most of the time, the first few seconds of your song was cut off. To avoid this, you had to be lightning-quick with your reflexes, or have the benefit of the deejay giving you a heads-up. The sound quality was going to be a little shoddy since you were recording at ambient level, complete with all the background noise and normal room tone. However, we didn't know any better, and it was 1983 anyway.

My plan had worked (or so I thought, anyway). I recorded the song, and now I could listen to it whenever I wanted, at the forceful touch of a single button. Ahhhhh. Technology! I proudly told my parents and my sister about this song that I love and how cool it is that the drum solo goes in the left ear, then in the right ear, and back and forth and louder and softer, and how head-swimmingly awesome it was. And how I had so cleverly and masterfully taped that very song from the radio. I urged them to gather 'round to listen to the brilliant song that I was about to play for them.

As you've guessed by now, I didn't have a firm grasp on how recording in stereo works. My "copy" of "She Blinded Me With Science" was not only muddy (at best), but lacked the stereophonic goodness. It was indeed a monophonic mess. I was monumentally upset, to say the least. However, I was convinced that there was something wrong with the radio station. My plan was perfect, so it couldn't have been my technologically retarded attempt at recording. It had to be the radio station. Maybe they forgot to broadcast in stereo. Yeah. That had to be it.

I used a brand new cassette and tried it again the next night. Naturally it yielded the same results.

I never did purchase a copy of "The Golden Age of Wireless", and I quickly forgot about that song thanks to Taco's "Puttin' on the Ritz". In fact, I haven't given much thought to the matter until I decided to undertake this project.

Note: I can't be sure that "Puttin' on the Ritz" came after "She Blinded Me With Science", but that's my recollection.

now playing:

50 Foot Wave Golden Ocean

I might walk home alone, but my faith in love is still devout

As promised, I'll share with you some questions I have about Rod Stewart's 1971 smash hit "Maggie May". In the week of my birth, the song, which was on Every Picture Tells a Story, reached #1 on the Billboard charts. It stayed there for several weeks, and ended up being Billboard's #2 song of the year.

Before I get into it, I'd like to make it clear that I think it's a great song.

However, I'm a little bugged by some of the lyrics.

Take, for example, the opening line:

Wake up, Maggie. I think I've got something to say to you.

The rest of the song goes on to enumerate the reasons the protagonist has for leaving his Mrs. Robinson.

Here's my beef with that: You don't wake somebody out of a deep slumber and say "I think I've got something to say". If you wake someone up, you best have a damn good reason. And although this turned out to be a good reason, it should have been prefaced with something more like -- "Wake up Maggie. I've got some bad news for you", or better yet, just leave the "I think" part out and say "Wake up Maggie, I've got something to say to you". He needs to be more certain, more forceful.

In the second verse, he says

I laughed at all your jokes. My love you didn't need to coax

My issue with this is that it's awkward, even clumsy wording. And don't even start with the "but it's done in the interest of the rhyming scheme", because the rest of the song has very few rhyming lines. It could have gotten away without that clumsiness.

Later, there's just a poor choice of words:

...But you turned into a lover, and mother what a lover..

It's already a bit icky because it's pretty clear that the protagonist is having an affair with a much older woman. Then, he chooses the word "mother" as emphasis preceding "what a lover". Where some folks might say "Holy Mackinaw! What a lover!", or "Golly! What a lover!", he says "Mother! What a lover!". As if we weren't already slightly creeped out, the word "mother" puts a whole new Oedipus-like spin on it.

But then the kicker is the final line:

Maggie I wish I'd never seen your face // I'll get on back home one of these days

One of these days? After all that, after waking poor Maggie up, all he has to say is "I'm leaving you, but not today".

Maybe we weren't meant to look that closely at the lyrics. At the end of the day, though, I still think it's a great song.

now playing:

Chris Bell I am the Cosmos

dear, i fear we're facing a problem

I've written at length on these pages about the "Two fer Tuesday" game that is played at work.

To refresh the memory, the "classic rock" station plays twofers all day long. We guess what they're playing for points. During the first song, you guess the second song for one point. During the second song, you guess the next artist for two points. Sometimes the games are high-scoring. Sometimes they aren't.

Lately, I've been having serious issues with the appropriateness of the twofers.

They've always been known to follow a song like "Sunshine of Your Love" with "Tears in Heaven". This isn't technically a twofer since the former is by Cream, and the latter an Eric Clapton solo joint. However, this has been generally acceptable. It's also pretty common, so we know that we should expect a Clapton/Cream changeup from time to time. I can't say I'm crazy about it, but like I say, it's generally accepted.

However, they've gotten a little out of hand lately. Tonight, I had to call bullshit two times.

First was with Queen. They played "We Will Rock You", followed by "We are The Champions". Okay.... Time for the next band, right? Wrong! "Bohemian Rhapsody". For fuck's sake! This isn't a threefer. "We Will Rock You" and "We are The Champions" are DEFINITELY separate songs. They first appeared on 1977's News of the World as songs #1 and #2, respectively, and are always packaged on "Greatest Hits" records in back-to-back fashion. As separate songs. It's not as if I'm splitting hairs here. These are different songs. But, just as they do with Pure Prairie League's "Fallin in and out of Love With You" and "Amie", radio stations will treat the two songs as if they are one. In a court of law I would win my argument that "We Will Rock You" and "We are the Champions" are different songs, but in practical every day life, I'll have to give that one up. I'm not happy about it, though.

The other thing that I had to call "bullshit" on was when they played "Stop Draggin' My Heart Around" as the first song of the twofer. So I'm thinking they'll go with a pure Stevie Nicks twofer and follow it with "Edge of Seventeen". However, I know it's possible that they'll cheat a little and go with Fleetwood Mac on the back end, so I guessed "Riannon". None of the above. They cheated A LOT by playing Tom Petty's "Learning to Fly" next.

I'm willing to grudgingly concede the Queen thing, but I won't let this one go. This is complete bullshit. Although Petty co-wrote and provided some vocals for "Stop Draggin'", it doesn't appear on his record. It's on Nicks' "Bella Donna". I suppose this paves the way for them to play Dire Strait's "Money for Nothing" followed by "De Doo Doo Doo, De Da Da Da" and call it a Sting twofer.

Horse shit!

Up next will be some questions I have about Rod Stewart's brilliant "Maggie May".

now playing:

Echo & The Bunnymen Echo & The Bunnymen

If all your wishes in the world come true, you'd be as good as new

Monday night, I went to Chapel Hill to see Camera Obscura, who were playing at the Local 506. This is a band that I fell in love with when they played two summers ago at the Merge Records 15th year anniversary festival.

I bought Underachievers, Please Try Harder on the spot, and I used it to get me through some really tough times in the following weeks. I was managing a restaurant that opened one day after the end of the Merge Festival. I was working 16 hour days, seven days a week for two weeks solid. I was a complete wreck. I would take solace, though, in coming home after those horrible days, taking a long hot shower, and relaxing with Camera Obscura. I was actually quite miserable back then, but I always felt better listening to CO.

When I saw them on the schedule of Cat's Cradle sponsored events, I almost shat myself. I sort of filed it away, and then I actually almost forgot about it.

A couple of weeks ago, I turned my friend Bill on to Camera Obscura, and we talked about going to the show. Of course we also talked about going to Mogwai, but I chickened out at the last second and missed a hell of a show. Since Bill opted for dinner with the missus and an important dinner guest, I'll do my best to give a concert review. For my money, though, his reviews are far better than I could ever do.

It was a shitty shitty night last night. It was about 35 degrees and raining pretty hard. My friends and I got a cheap dinner beforehand, where I ran into the girl I went to prom with 17 years ago. As I've commented on these pages before, I run into her about once a year, and it's always cool. However, it always reminds me of what a douchebag I was. This is a whole other story, but because I wasn't emotionally ready for any kind of relationship, I pushed her away. About a year later, I realized I had fucked up badly, but it was too late.

Sorry for the digression. Anyway, it was a shitty night, and I felt like ass. I've been fighting off some sort of illness, and I've been sleeping really poorly because I was having lengthy coughing fits at about 2:30 in the morning. My whole head was aching, and I was also a little grumpy on top of that. BUT..... we were going to Camera Obscura. So without further ado (or as my friend Kevin says "adieu"), the review.

When we arrived, the warmup act was on. A Raleigh band named Schooner. At first, they reminded me of Pavement, but later on they reminded me a little of what we decided was Sparklehorse. However, I wasn't really into them. At first glance, it seemed like the typical Local 506 show -- oversold, smoky as hell and hotter than a thousand hells. However, upon further review, it was only the back of the room that was packed. We worked our way up to the front, where there was plenty of wiggle room. Just a few minutes later, Schooner was done with their set.

Camera Obscura opened with a song I didn't recognize. It had a polka/oom-pa/waltz feel too it, and it wasn't bad, but I didn't care too much for it. They transitioned into "Teenager", which imediately made me giddy. Despite the nasty weather, despite my grouchiness and illness, I was HAPPY.

Following that, they played four new songs in a row. The new record will be out in June, and I'm guessing all those songs will be on the new record. I've gotta say that they sounded fantastic. For the rest of the night, it was mostly new stuff, with a little Underachievers and a very little "Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi".

The new songs feature a lot of different percussion, and more than one of them had a motown-y feel. Actually, this isn't new for them, but it seemed more prevalent last night. One of the new songs had this really neat three-part guitar harmony at the end that seemed more like Glasgow 1992 than Glasgow 2006, but I'll take it any day of the week. And twice on Sundays.

About halfway through their set, they got real chatty. My soft spot for a female Scottish accent is well known, so I was digging it. However, Tracyanne wasn't doing much of the talking. Either way, I think it's cool to listen to Scottish people talk. It's hot on a woman, and "cool" on a man. Oh c'mon! Do you really think that Sean Connery would be "cool" if he wasn't Scottish?

Apparently, this was one of only three American cities they're playing on this "tour". They did the SXSW festival in Austin, then the 506, then on to the Knitting Factory. That's it. So we were really lucky to have them. They'll be back in July for a more extensive tour, and you should all go when they come to your town.

They closed their set with "Suspended from Class", which actually didn't sound all that great. Don't get me wrong. I still liked it, but it sounded really flat. The rest of the show wasn't like that, but that one song was.

I didn't really mean for this to happen, but on the way out of the venue, I stopped to say "nice show" to Carey and Lee, and ended up chatting with them for a few minutes. They seemed like awfully nice folks.

I might have talked myself out of going to the show because of the weather, and because I felt like ass. I'm really glad I didn't. Except for a two minute span where I lost my cool, I had a really good time. CO were great, and the new songs kind of blew me away. I can't wait for the new record to come out.

now playing:

Yo La Tengo And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out

you get the car, i'll get the night off

So here's another brief thing about Scrabble's new OWL2.

I've already (sort of) explained how words get in the OWL in the first place.

I get a lot of questions about the rules of Scrabble play. Although it is a general rule of thumb that foreign words and proper names are not allowed, there are many proper names that are allowed because they have other meanings.

Foreign words sometimes are in the American vernacular so long that they make it into our dictionaries of record. Once that happens, they are fair game for Scrabble.

For this same reason, words which were originally trademarked brand names of products, over time, become generally accepted as the word to describe the product itself. For example, velcro. The term VELCRO (all caps) is a registered trademark of Velcro Industries, but the word velcro (all lower-case) has been generally accepted as the generic term for a hook and loop fastener. As these brand names become gerericized over time, it upsets the companies associated with the product bearing the name because it is tantamount to losing a bit of their copyright protection. The product itself is still protected. The nomenclature isn't.

The point of this is that many words associated with trademarked products or companies have found their way into the OWL. There are many new ones, including "velcro", "fedex", "frisbee" and "kleenex". There were already many in the previous OWL, but the only one I can think of off the top of my head is "xerox".

Over time, this becomes an issue because there is no longer any association with the product and the company that trademarked it. For example, few people probably know that "aspirin" was a registered trademark of the Bayer company. Now it is a completely generic term. Or that "escalator" was a registered trademark of the Otis Elevator Company. Although Bayer had other factors working against it, both companies failed to police their own trademarking and saw their name become the generic name.

I could go on for hours about the legal ramifications of this, but this was really just to point out that these words are now acceptable plays in tournament Scrabble.

now playing:

Morrissey Bona Drag

what would frank lloyd wright say?

Yesterday was a pretty big day. No, I didn't get a raise, or win the lottery, or land a hot new girlfriend.
It was the day that the new Official Tournament and Club Word List (2nd edition) (affectionately called OWL2) became the official arbiter for word validity in official Scrabble play. The OWL was published in 1998 and had been the adjudicator since then.

The OWL, and OWL2 (available only to members of the National Scrabble Association) differs greatly from Official SCRABBLE Players Dictionary (available from any bookseller) in many ways. First, the OSPD contains definitions, and is laid out differently. Inflections and pluralizations are listed under the main word, which sometimes is more confusing than helpful. For example, one of my favorite Scrabble words is SENARII. In the OWL2, it's just listed as is. The OWLs are simply alphabetical word lists. No definitions. In the OSPD, you have to find SENARII listed with SENARIUS as its plural. You would learn that it's a type of greek lyric poetry. This kind of dictionary-style listing probably causes many words to be overturned even when they are valid. Believe it or not, we're not the least bit concerned about definitions in tournament play. It's only helpful to know forms of speech so we might know whether we can add an -s or an -ed or an -ing. Do we really care what a word means? No. I think it's safe to say that for 30% of the words I play, I have no idea what they mean.
Another key difference between the OWLs and the OSPDs is that the OWLs include words that may be deemed "offensive". In club and tournament play, for example, many cuss words and/or ethnic slurs are legal. They're just words. Certain types get offended by the use of certain words, but they're just words. For example, I once had to play the word CUNT in a tournament against a middle-aged lady. She was visibly upset by the word, but it was my best play, and it is legal. Nothing personal. Just a word. Most players understand this and don't get bent out of shape.

So the big question is, how do words get included? What makes Scrabble dictionaries different from normal dictionaries? Every language has its own Scrabble dictionary, and there are two different for the English language: OWL is used in North America, while a different dictionary, SOWPODS is used in the rest of the English-speaking world. In the case of OWL, in effort to be considered the ultimate authority on word adjudication, the dictionary committee (no, I'm not making that up) compiles words from five major dictionaries. Webster's Collegiate Dictionary(currently the 11th edition), Webster's New World Dictionary (currently the fourth edition), Random House College Dictionary, The American Heritage Dictionary, and Funk & Wagnalls College Dictionary. Actually, I don't think F&W is used anymore, as it is no longer a dictionary worth its salt. That could easily be a whole other post, but I'll just let it go. Anyway, all words that appear in at least two of the "major" dictionaries are set to be included in OWL. The OSPD simply omits words that could be found to be offensive.

Why the fuss? OWL was eight years old, and the American lexicon has changed a lot since then. There are a few thousand new additions to the OWL2, including five new two-letter words, 41 new threes, 126 new fours, 289 fives, 540 new sixes and 901 new seven-letter words.

Here's the thing, though. One of the new sevens leapt right out at me. PIZZAZZ. Sure, that's a good word. Why not? It's been in Webster's for a long time. Look at the word, though. Four Zs. It's unplayable. The game only has one Z and two blank tiles. The word could never be played. Same with PIZZAZZES and PIZZAZZY, which are new to the list.

There are at least eight new q-without-u words, making that list grow from 21 to at least 29.

I've got a lot of work to do.

now playing:

Elliot Smith XO

quiet hands, quiet kiss on the mouth

I've got some housecleaning issues I want everyone to know about. Some of my links were to dead sites or to sites that I don't give a shit about anymore. Those are gone. Don't worry. The link to your site/blog isn't going anywhere. Unless your name is Bill Purdy. The Bitter Buffalo, which is co-written by Bill, has been moved from the "I don't personally know" list to the "friends" list.

Also worth noting is the addition of a new link. I don't know if you've ever seen it, but this is some funny shit right here. I don't know this dude, and I don't know how I stumbled on his blog, but I tell you. This is good shit. That is, of course, assuming that you're a smart-ass. If you're reading my blog, it means you know me, which means that you are indeed a smart-ass. If you're not reading my blog, then piss off.

Anyway.... some of my favorite rhetorical letters are the ones to barefoot guy, Manute Bol and Bicycle Maniac.

Stop by and give the dude a read.

now playing:

Jeff Buckley Sketches for My Sweetheart the Drunk

i still don't like the guy

Okay. So now the word is that the substance for which Ricky Williams tested positive was not marijuana. It doesn't cancel the fact that he failed a drug test. That's a bit like being arrested for a fourth DUI and saying "oh, but I wasn't drinking whiskey this time". Notice that I said "A BIT like" rather than "EXACTLY like". Yes, I know it's a bit of a stretch, and it's possible that the "substance" could turn out to be something that was unknown to him. However, at some point, he and other athletes who fail drug tests have to be accountable for the substances in their bodies. I have been criticized for my views on this in the past with other athletes, but I have been consistent in my view.

Maybe he's been doing Propecia with Montréal Canadiens goaltender Jose Theodore. Maybe that's Ricky's dark secret -- he's bald. Maybe it'll turn out to be crystal meth. I'm just saying.

I said when Rafael Palmiero got nabbed with a steroid-like substance, and
I'll say again here: if you're getting the kind of money these guys get to play sports, and you have a list of substances that are not allowed to be in your body, you should be especially careful about the "supplements" or medications that you take. Check ingredient lists. Pay someone to make sure it's safe for you to take. Ask questions if you have to.

If you have failed multiple drug tests in the past, and you know the consequences of another failed test, you should be anally careful about it. Like the guy in the restaurant with the gluten allergy.

The fact that Williams is a repeat offender makes it easy for me to pass judgment on him. The fact that Palmiero made his now infamous "I have never taken steroids. Period." speech just days before testing positive made it easy for me to pass judgment on him. The fact that Theodore is using Propecia makes it easy for me to laugh at him. He's got the thickest, manliest head of hair in the entirety of the NHL, and he's been using Propecia for 10 years. For the uninitiated, the story there is that one of the ingredients in Propecia is a known masking agent for performance-enhancing drugs. The suggestion is that you take the Propecia and they won't know that you've been taking the performance-enhancer. However, anyone who has watched, listened to, read about or even heard about the Canadiens this year knows that Theodore has sucked ass. There's no way he's been taking performance enhancing drugs.

If the substance turns out to be one of the ingredients from his Flintstones Chewables, then I might retract my criticism of Williams. In the meantime, it's the fourth time he's flunked a drug test. I get the feeling, though, that if it was something like a Flintstones Chewable or Propecia, they'd have already told us.

If you think I'm being unfair, I'm sorry. If you think I'm hanging a man before he even goes to trial, I'm sorry.

Oh Ricky,..

It seems like no other bloggers are writing about this, so I'll go ahead and take the plunge.
Ricky Williams is a complete and utter moron. He has flunked yet another drug test, his fourth. He sat out four games this past season after flunking his third drug test at the end of the 2003 season. He then spent a year in exile, hanging out with Lenny Kravitz and getting high every day. The Dolphins took a huge chance by letting the freak back on the team after he abandoned them, not to mention his previous drug problems.
Now Williams faces a mandatory one year suspension from the league because of his fourth positive test. There was no indication as to what he had tested positive for, but his past would suggest marijuana. Before anyone gets on their high (no pun intended) horse, I will mention that I do not smoke pot but I am in support of the legalization of it. That's a whole other issue. That notwithstanding, marijuana is currently illegal, AND (unlike the NBA)it is on the list of banned substances in the NFL. Sorry, but that's the way it is, and you know the rules.

I think the one year suspension is too light, actually. Williams has proven that he doesn't care about the sanctions that have been placed against him. He has made fools of the Dolphins front office for giving him another go. He is perhaps making a fool of Paul Tagliabue.

I'm sure that the Dolphins will tell him to take a hike, but I really do think that the league needs to tell him to take a permanent hike. This isn't about a guy getting busted with some weed. This is about a guy who repeatedly violates rules, repeatedly bitches about the sanctions against him, and repeatedly proves himself to be unworthy of the second, third, and fourth chances that were awarded him. If this isn't handled in a more aggressive fashion, it could turn out to be a Steve Howe-type situation. No, smart ass, not the guitarist from Yes. Same name, different guy. I mean the Steve Howe who was a baseball pitcher in the '80s. He tested positive for cocaine SEVEN TIMES, and ended up making a complete mockery of baseball and its then commissioner Fay Vincent. Vincent had handed Howe a lifetime suspension after the seventh positive test, leaving many to wonder why he took so long to make that move. However, after Vincent was forced to resign, Howe was able to pull some strings and got the suspension overturned. He indicated that he needed the cocaine to treat his Attention Deficit Disorder. Somehow, they accepted this, repealed the ban, and he was back in the saddle within months. Got that? Cocaine. To treat ADD. As if methylphenidate (Ritalin) doesn't do the trick.

Actually, even if they do suspend him, I'm sure he'll come up with some "Oh, I've been smoking reefer to treat my Social Anxiety Disorder. You don't want me to be ill, do you?" excuse. He's been using Paxil to counter the symptoms, but he's also been know to claim that marijuana makes it less prevalent.

Seriously, the NFL needs to call a turnover on downs on this issue. Williams failed to convert the fourth and twenty-seven. Sorry, buddy, but you don't get another chance.

End of rant.