F---- the Nationals, Pt. 2

I hope that I'm wrong, but all signs point to the Sox/Yanks game not being shown on the Fox affiliate here tomorrow, with a likely culprit being a totally meaningless National's game.

I plan on punching the first person I see outside tomorrow wearing a Nat's hat, even if they are like 90 years old.

Steve Earle

Steve Earle's "Rich Man's War" has been one of my favorite songs for the past year, but the only thing better than listening to it from the album is hearing it live, solo acoustic, particularly when he dedicates it to Cindy Sheehan who was standing a few feet from him (and me and my wife in the front row) who had just ripped the president (who is currently away from his Pennsylvania Ave house that sits nearby) a new one.

Johnny Damon -- Better Leadoff Man than Author

My dad has already basically informed me that I am a nerd for critiquing Johnny Damon's autobiography "Idiot: Beating 'The Curse' and Enjoying the Game of Life," so you don't have to. And yes, a key member of the team that FINALLY brought home the World Series title after so many decades of heartbreak should receive a lifetime "get of of jail free card." But I will share with you a few observations. For those who have not done so, I took this book out of the library so you don't have to...


According to Johnny:

-- The Boston press is really horrible. According to him, they never leave the players alone. He later states that Nomar had it so bad in Boston because they only bothered Nomar and left everybody else alone. See a contradiction? Yeah, me too. I also kind of wonder if his, and other people's as well, bashing of the press is really a veiled way of slamming the fans. But anyway....

-- The Red Sox were so popular in 2004 because of the whole "Idiots" persona thing. He doesn't address that it might have been, as I would contend, because people recognized that ownership had plugged the only remaining weaknesses in the off season by picking up a dominant starter (Curt Schilling, who they never ever should have traded in the first place back when he was a prospect and I said so at the time...) and a real closer (Keith Foulke).

-- Johnny Damon is a total stud. OK, this much is obvious, but he could be a little more humble and say, gentlemanly, by not going on about how he gets so many chicks calling him for one night stands, he needs a separate cell phone just for this function. And it's really "spooky" that a chick would have a one night thing with him, and think it meant more.

-- Johnny Damon is the best centerfielder around, and probably should have been MVP every year in recent memory. He's constantly throwing around quotes from teammates like Schilling who apparently shower him with verbal blow jobs like, AND I READ, "Dude, you don't know how amazing you really are....You're one of the best players I've ever watched." That's just one of many examples of the rave reviews he regularly receives from his teammates. However, when it comes to his high school career, he relies on himself to talk about how he was the best ever.

-- Pretty much everyone who has played on the team since he got here is above reproach. Pedro, according to Johnny, "Often doesn't get the respect he deserves." Never mind the fact that he was nearly universally regarded as the best Sox pitcher EVER amongst fans and the local media. Gee Johnny, do you think the fact that Pedro got some negative press last year was because his ERA went way up, and he mainly kept his win total up, like Derek Lowe (another guy who Damon felt the need to serve as an apologist for), because the Sox had awesome offense?

-- Kevin Millar was struggling at the plate because Doug Mientkiewicz was taking away his at bats. Never mind that he states this after earlier noting that Mientkiewicz, after starting a few games, basically served as a defensive replacement for Millar at the end of games.


To be fair, the book does present at times an interesting perspective on the past two seasons. However, I still maintain that the only Sox-related literature that you need from the 2004 season is the Sports Illustrated "Sportsmen of the Year" article, which was eons better than Damon's or Stephen King's books on the topic...

Attn: Men of Hip Hop Nation

My wife says you are acting like girls.

Exhibit A: Constantly dropping the names of expensive brands in your songs, leading your fans to feel they need to brag about things things as well. You know who does this? Chicks.

Exhibit B: The sneakers. You may imagine yourself a real gangsta, but having a closet full of expensive sneakers makes you more Imelda Marcos than John Gotti.

Exhibit C: The grooming products. Vibe magazine was mistakenly sent to our apartment for two years until I put a stop to this stack of stapled together sneaker and grooming product adds. Listen up, and I will whisper a secret to you: IT'S VERY, VERY GIRLY.

Things You Don't Need to Do Anymore: At Concerts

This is inspired by two concerts my wife and I attended on the past two weekends (after not seeing any for a long time).

1) Act like you will have a say in whether people sit or stand.

We went to see Steve Miller at an outdoor amphitheater last Saturday night. Great concert, great jamming, marred only by the incongruous rapping by the keyboard player during their lengthy "Fly Like an Eagle" jam, and a small group of dopes right behind us.

We were on the lawn, and when the music started, the people in front of us (and many others) stand up and start dancing or otherwise rocking in their own way. So we stand up, only to have the group of (and I'm guestimating here) 45-70 year olds behind us start hollering for everyone to sit down. After a short time, I turn around and semi apologetically say "sorry, but if we did sit down, we wouldn't be able to see over the people standing in front of us."

They ignore this, and continue yelling. To make a long story short, they started throwing stuff, and hit the woman standing next to me. I turned around and told them to cut it out. I found it pretty irritating that I had to suggest to a group of people old enough to be my parents that I'd put a beating on them if they didn't stop acting like little brats.

At a rock concert, you just might have to stand up.

2) To follow on to the first rule, you (in this case, the artist) don't need to make the token black guy in a band rap.

3) If it's a mellow show, let the artist know you're still there.

We saw Shawn Colvin and John Hiatt play solo acoustic sets last night at the 9:30 Club. Both, and Shawn Colvin in particular, played relatively mellow sets. Now, I hate to sound like a hypocrite after the first rule, especially since I have acted like an absolute ape at many of the shows that I've been too, but she would be playing a really nice, introspective song, and this goof kept shouting out "YAH!!!!" at the quietest moments. Might be appropriate at Ted Nugent, but not here.

4) Let the artist know that you've read an article or two about her.

Probably the same goof yelled out "How's your daughter?" and other daughter-related bits. I'm sure Ms. Colvin was impressed. Or maybe, as my wife suggested, concerned that you might be a stalker.

5) Yell out song requests, particularly if it's someone touring behind their first disc.

There will be some exceptions to the rule, but in general, the artist probably will stick to that set list taped to the stage. Even those that mix it up generally play what they feel like playing, and not what you are bellowing about, even if you are cool enough to shout out the name of something other than a hit single. Yeah, I know, you once saw someone who seemed to actually listen and played something that was shouted out. That's not going to happen very often, so do shut it.

And if it's someone with one album out, and they're playing a 40-60 minute set (like when I saw Pete Yorn play at a bookstore here a while back), chances are that they're going to get around to most of those tunes.

Drunk and Stoned....

My hair, that is.

When I got in the shower this morning, I noticed that my wife had bought a bottle of conditioner that featured hemp as a key ingredient. This gave me the big idea of washing my hair with the little bottle of beer-powered shampoo that she got me a while back, then following up with the weed-enhanced conditioner.

Problem is, I'm getting a little paranoid now. I'm worried that, despite my desire to listen to NPR on the way to work to hear the news of Hurricane Katrina, my hair is going to demand that I put on the classic rock station. Then it will probably go through my address book and call up all the female entries saying things like "What are you doing? Us? Oh, nothing much. You should come out with us! And party!"