Sandra Tsing Loh, essayist/humorist, has an polemic disguised as a book review/essay in the July/August issue of The Atlantic. (A lot of slashes in that sentence.) I actually had the issue in my “Stuff You Need To Get To” pile, but I was alerted to Tsing Loh’s essay on one of the Slate Gabfests. So, several days later, I actually pulled it out and read it today. I’ve always enjoyed her work on Public Radio International’s “Marketplace”-she would do a weekly, loosely financial commentary on the week’s news called, predictably, The Loh Down.
Hoo boy.
Girlfriend’s a little bit ticked off.
First of all, as the Gabfesters pointed out, memo to The Atlantic-if you need or want or plan to give a writer an assignment to consider a pile of relationship books and make a statement, such as it is, about men and women and the state of the relationships thereto- could you not give it to the woman in the middle of a divorce? Thanks.
(I should mention that Tsing Loh is up front about her divorce-she mentions it in her very first sentence. So at least there’s that. She was still, in my opinion, the wrong person to write this.)
So she begins her piece by alluding to her own divorce, and bringing out the standard list of mommy complaints that you can read in a dozen other magazines and books-life is too busy, I’m harried, I have to do my job and do all this other stuff and there’s never enough time and blah blah blah, blah blah blah. Now, obviously, she isn’t making this up-anyone with children can sing you this same tale. (I do resent the automatic female tilt these rants get. Men do this work, too, or they should, and yes, we worry about it-does our kid have friends? Is our family normal? Do we need more play time? Less TV?. We just don’t TALK about how much we worry about it.)
Tsing Loh then admits, frankly, that she doesn’t have the energy to do the work to save her relationship. I can sympathize, to an extent. We all have trouble finding this energy. But really? You’re just going to throw it away, because you’re tired? Who among us isn’t?
She progresses to ask, essentially, why do people get married?
She describes, in the course of mentioning the books that the article is purportedly about, the contradictions about marriage-nearly half of all marriages don’t last, yet we keep doing it-America worships freedom, yet looks down on people who exercise it by getting divorced-and more of the difficulties-it’s hard to arrange a date night when you have kids. Again, I can sympathize-it’s all true. Tsing Loh’s sense of defeat is palpable-in nearly every sentence, you hear her murmur-why bother?
She then chronicles a Girl’s Night Out dinner with some of her fortysomething friends-one contemplating divorce, one seemingly headed there, and one still a swinging single-and the revelation that, along with Tsing Loh, a second member of the crew is considering the Big D. She unfolds the complaints of the other women at the table, then slides into a pseudoscientific, made-for-Glamour-magazine accounting of the supposed four personality types, here called Explorers, Builders, Directors, and Negotiators.
Of course, this is a hit job-we don’t hear from Tsing Loh’s, or the friend’s, husband about their grievances. And this is really what gets my goat about the whole essay. Not that I expected her to include her husband’s perspective-I can’t see how that would end well-but her thesis seems to be along the lines of Homer Simpson’s-trying is the first step towards failing, so don’t try. I am sure she has felt disaffected, ignored, left behind, unappreciated. So have I. So have all married people. Maybe it is indeed best that they split up. I don’t know.
But I can’t believe that she was allowed, or even willing, to write this piece given what she is going through. For years, the battle of the sexes raged over equality-women wanted the same chance to earn and share child rearing with men. Now that this goal is not achieved, but at least closer to being achieved, men read from women like Tsing Loh that this still isn’t enough. Living life-raising kids, keeping appointments, changing the oil in the car, running a household-is really, really hard-for everybody. My life is continually filled with the feeling that I don’t know what is going on. Articles like this certainly don’t help.
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Game 69: Insert Suggestive Title Here
Timmeh battled young Mr. Jurrjens, easily the best Jurrjens to play major league baseball, to a near draw, taking a 4-2 lead into the seventh. However, the Braves rudely rallied to tie the game at 4, and then again at 5, before your friend and mine, Nick Green, the infielder without portfolio, homered to right off of the immortal Jeff Bennett to win the game 6-5.
Feeling Gravity's Pull
Amazing “To The Best Of Our Knowledge” ( www.ttbook.org ) about what they call the “We Generation”-social media and online culture. One of the segments was about www.wefeelfine.org, which apparently gathers sentences that contain the verb “feel” from English language blogs around the world, thus indexing, in a sense, how we feel.
Or something like that.
It mostly makes me feel old. I am finally starting to feel like the world is passing me by, that my generation, whoever that is, is handing over the reins to people younger than I. I have a terrible ability to judge ages based on appearance, and I find myself regularly encountering very successful people-certainly more successful than I-who are younger, and at times quite a bit younger, much smarter and better looking-than I am. I can’t call them my peer group any more.
I don’t feel good about this. I was never Mr. Zeitgeist, exactly, but I used to think I had a handle on things culturally. I don’t know who anyone is anymore, or what the running jokes are, or what anything is. I feel obsolescent.
There is a natural reaction to this, I think-the kids saying, “get out of the way, old man.” It’s an intimation of mortality. I feel like I have something to contribute, but I can do the math, and I’m starting to see that I won’t. There was a beautiful passage I read to that effect somewhere-when you reach the age when you realize you’re never going to write that book.
I guess they might as well run the world, because we didn’t exactly do a bang up job of it. As Kurt Vonnegut wrote, my message to the future is that I’m very sorry.
***
It’s Father’s Day.
I, of course, like a lot of people, am a father and have a father. One of the cards I bought this year says “You know why Father’s Day is in June? A month after Mother’s Day, someone said, ‘hey, wait a minute…’”. I think that’s a greeting card, but I also think that it is true to some extent. Father’s Day feels a little tacked on, like a lot of holidays these days. In my narrow, solipsistic view, any day that I have to work isn’t a real holiday, of course.
I feel like a fraud on Father’s Day. I am one, of course. (Unless my wife has some explaining to do.) As my son gets older, I bleed with sympathy over what my father went through-young teenagers are impossible, and I know full well it’s not going to get better anytime soon. I really understand more than ever how hard parenthood is, and any errors my parents made are utterly forgiven.
It’s a terribly unfair thing to say, because the truth of a statement does not depend on the reputation of the speaker, but I really am starting to think that non parents have no right to enter into this discussion. I thought I knew, too-but you don’t know, until you have children. You really don’t know anything about it.
I see some of my less than desirable qualities in my own son, and I just want to apologize to both of them, my son and my father, over and over again. I don’t feel worthy of even this half baked fraud of a holiday.
I won’t, of course. We’re men. Northeastern Yankees (in the “person from the Northeast” sense, not the “baseball team from the Bronx” sense-just to be clear), at that. We don’t do that. It isn’t done.
***
The Slate Audio Book Club discussed John Cheever’s “The Swimmer” and Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man Is Hard To Find”, which, I think, is a first for them-discussing short stories instead of novels. (The motivating factor seems to be new biographies of each coming out recently.) It’s nice to hear smart people talking about smart things.
I bought the big Cheever book of short stories, the one with the red cover, along with a volume of his diaries, in college. I enjoyed them, but I don’t think I finished the book of stories. I have it somewhere still, I’m pretty sure. I don’t think I own any O’Connor, except maybe in a collection. I took a short story course in college, and I have to assume O’Connor was in there. I remember writing a paper on John Updike’s “A + P” in that class, and the teacher was impressed that I went outside the assigned reading.
I think the Cheever biography may be worth reading. Maybe I should get out some O’Connor the next time I go to the library, too.
***
“Oh, darling-
When you told me-
You didn’t need me anymore-
Well you know, I nearly broke down and died-“
-The Beatles,
“Oh! Darling”
Someone knows what I mean by that.
***
I finally discovered what “Shuffle Albums” means on my IPod. Apparently it does just that-finds a new album, then plays the whole thing. I don’t know what I thought it did, but I think I like this better than “Shuffle Songs”. First was “Abbey Road”, because it is first alphabetically, and the first thing I click on after choosing the Safe For Work playlist is usually “Come Together”, now it is Elton John’s “Duets”.
That, of course, has the George Michael/Elton version of “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down on Me,” which has been included on a number of albums. I could care less, though-I think it’s gorgeous, even not being necessarily a George Michael fan. I used to date someone who was, back in the day. Which, as regular readers will know, and as Dane Cook taught us all, was a Wednesday.
Now it’s Elton’s “The One”, which tells me I must have deleted several tracks from “Duets”, since I know it was longer than 3 songs. I’ll have to go investigate that. Maybe I was too hard on some of those songs. I believe this has “Runaway Train,” which is a favorite of mine. I used to work at a place where the muzak was so cool, that song would play.
***
“Trying to get a grip on my life again-
I feel it’s harder than a runaway train-“
Elton John
“Runaway Train”
…followed by an Eric Clapton guitar solo that sounds like an Eric Clapton guitar solo always sounds. What a gorgeous song.
***
Now it’s REM’s “And I Feel Fine”, the “More Greatest Hits” collection from the first part of their career.
“Not-
Everyone-
Can Carry The Weight of The World”
-REM, “Talk About The Passion”
Somebody also knows what that means. Or they should.
***
Now it’s “The Best of The Talking Heads”.
My physiology teacher in college was a Talking Heads fan. In unrelated news, I had a crush on her.
***
Or something like that.
It mostly makes me feel old. I am finally starting to feel like the world is passing me by, that my generation, whoever that is, is handing over the reins to people younger than I. I have a terrible ability to judge ages based on appearance, and I find myself regularly encountering very successful people-certainly more successful than I-who are younger, and at times quite a bit younger, much smarter and better looking-than I am. I can’t call them my peer group any more.
I don’t feel good about this. I was never Mr. Zeitgeist, exactly, but I used to think I had a handle on things culturally. I don’t know who anyone is anymore, or what the running jokes are, or what anything is. I feel obsolescent.
There is a natural reaction to this, I think-the kids saying, “get out of the way, old man.” It’s an intimation of mortality. I feel like I have something to contribute, but I can do the math, and I’m starting to see that I won’t. There was a beautiful passage I read to that effect somewhere-when you reach the age when you realize you’re never going to write that book.
I guess they might as well run the world, because we didn’t exactly do a bang up job of it. As Kurt Vonnegut wrote, my message to the future is that I’m very sorry.
***
It’s Father’s Day.
I, of course, like a lot of people, am a father and have a father. One of the cards I bought this year says “You know why Father’s Day is in June? A month after Mother’s Day, someone said, ‘hey, wait a minute…’”. I think that’s a greeting card, but I also think that it is true to some extent. Father’s Day feels a little tacked on, like a lot of holidays these days. In my narrow, solipsistic view, any day that I have to work isn’t a real holiday, of course.
I feel like a fraud on Father’s Day. I am one, of course. (Unless my wife has some explaining to do.) As my son gets older, I bleed with sympathy over what my father went through-young teenagers are impossible, and I know full well it’s not going to get better anytime soon. I really understand more than ever how hard parenthood is, and any errors my parents made are utterly forgiven.
It’s a terribly unfair thing to say, because the truth of a statement does not depend on the reputation of the speaker, but I really am starting to think that non parents have no right to enter into this discussion. I thought I knew, too-but you don’t know, until you have children. You really don’t know anything about it.
I see some of my less than desirable qualities in my own son, and I just want to apologize to both of them, my son and my father, over and over again. I don’t feel worthy of even this half baked fraud of a holiday.
I won’t, of course. We’re men. Northeastern Yankees (in the “person from the Northeast” sense, not the “baseball team from the Bronx” sense-just to be clear), at that. We don’t do that. It isn’t done.
***
The Slate Audio Book Club discussed John Cheever’s “The Swimmer” and Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man Is Hard To Find”, which, I think, is a first for them-discussing short stories instead of novels. (The motivating factor seems to be new biographies of each coming out recently.) It’s nice to hear smart people talking about smart things.
I bought the big Cheever book of short stories, the one with the red cover, along with a volume of his diaries, in college. I enjoyed them, but I don’t think I finished the book of stories. I have it somewhere still, I’m pretty sure. I don’t think I own any O’Connor, except maybe in a collection. I took a short story course in college, and I have to assume O’Connor was in there. I remember writing a paper on John Updike’s “A + P” in that class, and the teacher was impressed that I went outside the assigned reading.
I think the Cheever biography may be worth reading. Maybe I should get out some O’Connor the next time I go to the library, too.
***
“Oh, darling-
When you told me-
You didn’t need me anymore-
Well you know, I nearly broke down and died-“
-The Beatles,
“Oh! Darling”
Someone knows what I mean by that.
***
I finally discovered what “Shuffle Albums” means on my IPod. Apparently it does just that-finds a new album, then plays the whole thing. I don’t know what I thought it did, but I think I like this better than “Shuffle Songs”. First was “Abbey Road”, because it is first alphabetically, and the first thing I click on after choosing the Safe For Work playlist is usually “Come Together”, now it is Elton John’s “Duets”.
That, of course, has the George Michael/Elton version of “Don’t Let The Sun Go Down on Me,” which has been included on a number of albums. I could care less, though-I think it’s gorgeous, even not being necessarily a George Michael fan. I used to date someone who was, back in the day. Which, as regular readers will know, and as Dane Cook taught us all, was a Wednesday.
Now it’s Elton’s “The One”, which tells me I must have deleted several tracks from “Duets”, since I know it was longer than 3 songs. I’ll have to go investigate that. Maybe I was too hard on some of those songs. I believe this has “Runaway Train,” which is a favorite of mine. I used to work at a place where the muzak was so cool, that song would play.
***
“Trying to get a grip on my life again-
I feel it’s harder than a runaway train-“
Elton John
“Runaway Train”
…followed by an Eric Clapton guitar solo that sounds like an Eric Clapton guitar solo always sounds. What a gorgeous song.
***
Now it’s REM’s “And I Feel Fine”, the “More Greatest Hits” collection from the first part of their career.
“Not-
Everyone-
Can Carry The Weight of The World”
-REM, “Talk About The Passion”
Somebody also knows what that means. Or they should.
***
Now it’s “The Best of The Talking Heads”.
My physiology teacher in college was a Talking Heads fan. In unrelated news, I had a crush on her.
***
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Game Sixty Eight:: Ladies And Gentlemen, Commander Kicka$$
At Fenway tonight, Josh Beckett showed his Josh Beckettness, Josh Becketting the Atlanta Braves on 5 lonely hits in a complete game shutout. He Josh Becketted them on only 94 pitches. Timmeh takes the hill against young Mr. Jair Jurrjens in the series finale tomorrow.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Game 67: The Cavalcade of Fail
Our friend Dice W got shelled, giving up 8 hits and 4 walks to the Bravos, helping to power a 8-2 loss at Fenway.
Grumble.
Grumble.
No Giveaways
Funny moment at the bank today.
I needed a $50.00 bill to put in a card, so I went into my bank and saw the teller. When she signaled for me to come forward, I stepped forward and said, “I have a real easy one for you. I just need a $50.00 bill.”
I then stared at her. She stared back. I don’t know what I was thinking, exactly, but I hadn’t handed her any money yet, so that’s obviously what she was waiting for.
Finally, I realized what the standoff was. “Oh, you’re not just giving them away?,” I asked, to general laughter.
***
Guess what game my wife and I were playing last night?
Not that, Katie. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Modeled after Monty Python’s “Word Association Football”, along with the infamous Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, it involves starting with any object or name, then connecting them with another, no matter how tenuous or obscure the association. Unfortunately, you have to either quit playing, or agree on a common stopping point (We’ll stop when we get to “maple syrup” ), because the fiendish glee of this game is that you can literally play it forever.
For example-an extremely abbreviated version connecting maple syrup with Paris Hilton:
Maple syrup (product of Canada)
Mike Myers (another product of Canada)
“Dirty Hoe” (joke from Myers’ “The Cat In The Hat”)
Paris Hilton (duh)
In case you were wondering whether or not this was a naked attempt to steal eyeballs for people who are Googling “Paris Hilton”, this is not a wholly naked attempt to do that, no.
Now I’ve got people who search for “Paris Hilton naked”, too.
Sweet.
1.Increase blog traffic
2.???
3.Profit!
(h/t South Park and the Underpants Gnomes)
***
By the way, if you have to ask yourself whether or not you are in the way, you probably are.
***
WBR-the lovely podcast from Rob and Eric that features pop culture, music, and your mom-is still worth your time. Check out www.wbrshow.com
***
Dan Carlin had a chilling Hardcore History I listened to yesterday while walking with my son-more material on the Russian/German battles during World War II. He is also well worth your time, and 100% free, at www.dancarlin.com
***
I needed a $50.00 bill to put in a card, so I went into my bank and saw the teller. When she signaled for me to come forward, I stepped forward and said, “I have a real easy one for you. I just need a $50.00 bill.”
I then stared at her. She stared back. I don’t know what I was thinking, exactly, but I hadn’t handed her any money yet, so that’s obviously what she was waiting for.
Finally, I realized what the standoff was. “Oh, you’re not just giving them away?,” I asked, to general laughter.
***
Guess what game my wife and I were playing last night?
Not that, Katie. Get your mind out of the gutter.
Modeled after Monty Python’s “Word Association Football”, along with the infamous Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon, it involves starting with any object or name, then connecting them with another, no matter how tenuous or obscure the association. Unfortunately, you have to either quit playing, or agree on a common stopping point (We’ll stop when we get to “maple syrup” ), because the fiendish glee of this game is that you can literally play it forever.
For example-an extremely abbreviated version connecting maple syrup with Paris Hilton:
Maple syrup (product of Canada)
Mike Myers (another product of Canada)
“Dirty Hoe” (joke from Myers’ “The Cat In The Hat”)
Paris Hilton (duh)
In case you were wondering whether or not this was a naked attempt to steal eyeballs for people who are Googling “Paris Hilton”, this is not a wholly naked attempt to do that, no.
Now I’ve got people who search for “Paris Hilton naked”, too.
Sweet.
1.Increase blog traffic
2.???
3.Profit!
(h/t South Park and the Underpants Gnomes)
***
By the way, if you have to ask yourself whether or not you are in the way, you probably are.
***
WBR-the lovely podcast from Rob and Eric that features pop culture, music, and your mom-is still worth your time. Check out www.wbrshow.com
***
Dan Carlin had a chilling Hardcore History I listened to yesterday while walking with my son-more material on the Russian/German battles during World War II. He is also well worth your time, and 100% free, at www.dancarlin.com
***
Get Your Kicks With Game 66
The Red Sox filled their buckets with Fail tonight, managing one lonely hit in a rain shortened 5 inning 2-1 loss at Fenway Park tonight. Serving dinner at the Hard Luck Cafe was Jon Lester, who allowed only two runs but got hung with the L.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Possibly the least interesting blog post ever...
Quantum weirdness today.
***
I misplaced my cell phone. After finding it today, it quickly ran out of power, so it is DOA until I can get to a charger. It’s not a big loss-of the 50 calls I might get each month, 48 of them are ones I don’t want to take.
What I am finding is the feeling of being unreachable is a little bit liberating. I used to work for a boss, in the pre cell phone era (yes, there was one!), who would leave a voice mail message every morning detailing where he would be during the day so that you could reach him. Some days, he would just say, “I will be unavailable all day.” I used to marvel at that. To be unavailable-unreachable-unfindable! What a life. Like engaging a personal cloaking device.
Adam Carolla was discussing on one of his podcasts about movies where an uptight character becomes involved with a more loosey goosey character, and the loosey goosey character will throw the other character’s briefcase or cell phone into the lake. You could throw my cell phone into the lake, and I wouldn’t even notice.
I’m starting to seriously consider just getting a pay per use phone, and to heck with it all. However, similar to my bank, I have so many people who know this as my number that to switch would be a pain in the neck.
***
The opening story on “This American Life” was about kids confronting their parents about injustices from childhood. Maybe I’m just getting old, but it made me really angry. I don’t feel like kids have that right.
***
Cute T shirt slogan I saw: “Are you Jewish? Because You Israeli Hot.”
***
Waiting for my car's oil to be changed, early the morning after. The morning after what I wrote last night, which is what I wrote above. Clearly, timing is everything, as they say at the fertility clinic. As we all know, it has to be the morning after.
By the by-Hyundai of North America-Would free wi fi in your waiting room kill you? Seriously?
Listening to Jimmy Pardo's “Never Not Funny”, which is, as always, incomparably good. Well worth the 77 cents per week, although there is something strange about paying for a podcast, as great as it is.
Lots of issues boiling just below the surface for me today, I've had about enough of a couple of different people in my life, and I just can't afford the risk of blogging about it. Perhaps I should go anonymous, like my good friend Otherwise Optimistic. Sigh. Mumble mumble mumble.
***
You know what? I know you're tired. I'm tired too. The difference is, nobody cares about the fact that I'm tired.
***
I misplaced my cell phone. After finding it today, it quickly ran out of power, so it is DOA until I can get to a charger. It’s not a big loss-of the 50 calls I might get each month, 48 of them are ones I don’t want to take.
What I am finding is the feeling of being unreachable is a little bit liberating. I used to work for a boss, in the pre cell phone era (yes, there was one!), who would leave a voice mail message every morning detailing where he would be during the day so that you could reach him. Some days, he would just say, “I will be unavailable all day.” I used to marvel at that. To be unavailable-unreachable-unfindable! What a life. Like engaging a personal cloaking device.
Adam Carolla was discussing on one of his podcasts about movies where an uptight character becomes involved with a more loosey goosey character, and the loosey goosey character will throw the other character’s briefcase or cell phone into the lake. You could throw my cell phone into the lake, and I wouldn’t even notice.
I’m starting to seriously consider just getting a pay per use phone, and to heck with it all. However, similar to my bank, I have so many people who know this as my number that to switch would be a pain in the neck.
***
The opening story on “This American Life” was about kids confronting their parents about injustices from childhood. Maybe I’m just getting old, but it made me really angry. I don’t feel like kids have that right.
***
Cute T shirt slogan I saw: “Are you Jewish? Because You Israeli Hot.”
***
Waiting for my car's oil to be changed, early the morning after. The morning after what I wrote last night, which is what I wrote above. Clearly, timing is everything, as they say at the fertility clinic. As we all know, it has to be the morning after.
By the by-Hyundai of North America-Would free wi fi in your waiting room kill you? Seriously?
Listening to Jimmy Pardo's “Never Not Funny”, which is, as always, incomparably good. Well worth the 77 cents per week, although there is something strange about paying for a podcast, as great as it is.
Lots of issues boiling just below the surface for me today, I've had about enough of a couple of different people in my life, and I just can't afford the risk of blogging about it. Perhaps I should go anonymous, like my good friend Otherwise Optimistic. Sigh. Mumble mumble mumble.
***
You know what? I know you're tired. I'm tired too. The difference is, nobody cares about the fact that I'm tired.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Game Sixty Five: Stayin' Alive!
The redoubtable Brad "Can I get my security deposit back?" Penny won his 100th career game, and Jacoby Ellsbury and David Ortiz whacked the 'ol pelota all over the yard to power Boston's 6-1 victory at Fenway Park tonight.
You stay classy, Ramsey!
http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2009/jun/09/gordon-ramsay-australia-kevin-rudd
Stay classy, Gordon Ramsey. Stay classy.
Stay classy, Gordon Ramsey. Stay classy.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Game (When I'm) Sixty Four
David Ortiz pulled a classic, circa 2004 long home run into the seats behind the bullpen to power a 6 run fourth in a 8-2 win over the Marlins at Fenway Park tonight. Timmeh Wakefield took down the win, with support from Metropolitan District Commission, Sensei Saito, and Danny Ocean.
Monday, June 15, 2009
Support the Iranians
Support the revolution in Iran. Take this and spread it around.
(Via Andrew Sullivan http://andrewsullivan.theatlantic.com/the_daily_dish/)
iShame
http://www.clevergirlgoesblog.com/2009/06/ishame.html
Thanks to clever, saucy Tia, we have today's Meme-iShame-TEN SONGS ON MY IPOD THAT I'M NOT PARTICULARLY PROUD OF
1. Raffi, "Bananaphone" - My son thankfully dodged the Raffi virus, but I heard this song and it's quirky sense of humor on a Youtube video my son was watching, and fell in love with it.
2. Billy Joel, "All You Wanna Do Is Dance" - I love Billy Joel. LOVE Billy Joel. But a few of his songs are L-A-M-E. This is one.
3. The Eagles, "Frail Grasp of the Big Picture" - While I love the Eagles, their most recent album was a real disappointment. I could have lived without it.
4. Tone Loc, "Funky Cold Medina" - Yeah. Funky Cold Medina. He was popular for about 4 1/2 minutes, but I loved it.
5. Shakira, "Hips Don't Lie" - Not my kind of music, but she's got a point.
6. Wilson Phillips, "Daniel" - My wife will never let me forget that I actually used American money to pay for Wilson Phillips' first album. This is not from that album, but from the "Two Rooms" tribute. It's the only WP I have left.
7. Pavement, "Jackals, False Grails: The Lonesome Era" - It was on sale, OK?
8. Jimmy Buffett, "Jolly Mon Sing" - Maybe it makes more sense if you're drunk. Love Buffett, but this song is stupid.
9. Velvet Revolver, "Just Sixteen" - Another victim of the Fruitcake Corollary, first posited by Professor Jim Gaffigan: How can individual things that rule create something that sucks?
10. Rush, "La Villa Strangiato" - Groups really need to stop with the instrumentals.
Thanks to clever, saucy Tia, we have today's Meme-iShame-TEN SONGS ON MY IPOD THAT I'M NOT PARTICULARLY PROUD OF
1. Raffi, "Bananaphone" - My son thankfully dodged the Raffi virus, but I heard this song and it's quirky sense of humor on a Youtube video my son was watching, and fell in love with it.
2. Billy Joel, "All You Wanna Do Is Dance" - I love Billy Joel. LOVE Billy Joel. But a few of his songs are L-A-M-E. This is one.
3. The Eagles, "Frail Grasp of the Big Picture" - While I love the Eagles, their most recent album was a real disappointment. I could have lived without it.
4. Tone Loc, "Funky Cold Medina" - Yeah. Funky Cold Medina. He was popular for about 4 1/2 minutes, but I loved it.
5. Shakira, "Hips Don't Lie" - Not my kind of music, but she's got a point.
6. Wilson Phillips, "Daniel" - My wife will never let me forget that I actually used American money to pay for Wilson Phillips' first album. This is not from that album, but from the "Two Rooms" tribute. It's the only WP I have left.
7. Pavement, "Jackals, False Grails: The Lonesome Era" - It was on sale, OK?
8. Jimmy Buffett, "Jolly Mon Sing" - Maybe it makes more sense if you're drunk. Love Buffett, but this song is stupid.
9. Velvet Revolver, "Just Sixteen" - Another victim of the Fruitcake Corollary, first posited by Professor Jim Gaffigan: How can individual things that rule create something that sucks?
10. Rush, "La Villa Strangiato" - Groups really need to stop with the instrumentals.
Sunday, June 14, 2009
Game Sixty Three: Best thing about today is, we dont play tomorrow.
The Red Sox, about 12 minutes after finishing Saturday's rain delayed slugfest, played another contest against the defending World Champion Philadelphia Phillies. And by "contest", I'm misspelling the word "beatdown", as the Phillies used 4 runs in the fifth off of Bizarro World Josh Beckett, and 6 more in the seventh off of Beckett and Danny Ocean to seal up an 11-6 loss. Boston has a richly deserved day off tomorrow before welcoming the Marlins into Fenway on Tuesday.
Game 62: Slinging In The Rain
Dice K took the hill yesterday against the Phillies, battling both the weather and the tiny dimensions of Citizens Bank Park. Facing the marvelously named Antonio Bastardo (aka Tony Bastard), Dice K struggled, going only 4 innings, albeit having to endure a long rain delay in the middle. Boston's 5 early runs off of Mr. Bastard held up in a 11-6 win. Josh Beckett takes the hill today to look for a sweep.
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