Friday, December 30, 2011

Today was a good day.

This may not matter to any of you, but the Flyers beat the Pens 4-2 tonight. That, my friends, is most excellent news.

Also - four days until the Winter Classic. There's still part of me that can't believe I will actually be there. I kind of don't want to tailgate beforehand. 1) It's going to be not warm and 2) I want to be soberish for the game because it's kind of an epic, possibly once-in-a-lifetime game to see for a Flyers fan. I prefer to remember it.

And if life weren't good enough, Warren Miller's "Off the Grid" is on one of my premium channels. It features Jamie Pierre's famous cliff jump and Chris Anthony skiing some ridiculous lines in Utah, among other segments of powdery goodness.

Mother Nature better get her shit together by the time I get back from Philly. Winter makes me so happy.

Tuesday, December 27, 2011

The universe hates me

I don't put a ton of stock in the accuracy of horoscopes, but they're fun and sometimes eerily accurate so I pay attention. Mine's posted on my Google homepage, and I read it about 3-5 times a week. I checked it today and it was this:


I mean... really?

For those of you who don't know, I have a job that doesn't allow me to socialize with my coworkers. At least I'm not supposed to; there are some people I've known since before we worked together and I do kick it with them. But otherwise, fraternizing is no bueno. And there's this horoscope, which is kind of hilarious given the fact that I've spent a million hours with my boss and our other team member this month and we're all creepily close right now. Like, know when the other is hungry or say the same thing at the same time. But otherwise, we have very little in common and are probably on the verge of getting really sick of each other. It's rare to spend 40 hours a week with people and feel the need to see them outside of work, too.

So, thanks, horoscope, for making it weird. Because more weird in my life is exactly what I need.

Monday, December 26, 2011

A tip for the zombie apocalypse

These promos for a marathon of "The Walking Dead" have helped me to revisit one of the main moral dilemmas of the characters in the show: dealing with their loved ones as "walkers."

Well, I'm here to quell that moral dilemma once and for all for you, my friends, family and stalkers:

If I am obviously a zombie whose only goal in her lobotomized, prey-driven life is to eat your brains without a second thought, just effing shoot me in the head. Don't worry that I'm still me, and that somehow you're becoming my murderer. You've seen enough post-apocalyptic movies to know that there is no effing way that I am sentient, and you also know that, in that split second of empathy, you become like 92% more vulnerable to dying into an entrail-fueled afterlife of mindless predation and bad skin. Put me out of my misery and save yourself. Done. Don't say I never did anything for you.

Honestly, you'd think after a season and a half, these bastards on TWD would finally understand this concept. Panses.

Monday, December 19, 2011

A little love for a "local" band

I'm back for a minute from my holiday-season-induced lack in creativity to show a little love to Day of the Outlaw. A very, very dear friend of mine, Spurgeon, is their lead guitarist. He's supertalented and is now living the dream in Nashville, playing music, drinking whiskey and riding motorcycles. Cheers to you, friend.

DOTO is in the process of mixing their second EP, The Retribution Waltz, set to release in January 2012. Their lead-off single, "Drink Her Wine," wants to be on the new Puscifer album so hard; this sounds like a song Maynard and co. would cover and make their own. The song is available to stream and for pay-what-you-wish download on their site. Overall, I like the sound of this band - derivative of Skynyrd and other country rock bands, with catchy hooks. Kim's backing vocals add a whiskey smoothness to the song's overall gritty tone. The female vocal presence offers depth to the track; I think this aural note is what makes this song so reminiscent of Puscifer's latest work. On a critical note, I'm not sold on the styling of their lead vox. It sounds a bit forced on this particular track, especially at the end, but I really can't judge until I hear him live. I'm interested to hear the full EP, and seeing what more these guys bring to the table. I'm buying in, guys.

Give the song a listen, and comment/share if you wish:

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Flyers v Canucks... Reflections

Vancouver Canucks at Philadelphia Flyers
Flyers win 5-4 (record: 3-0).

The Flyers have defeated both of last year's Stanley Cup finalists, and they've done so with force. The Bullies seem to be skating faster throughout all three periods than they have in seasons past. Hopefully, they can maintain this momentum through a long, cold season.

Watching your hometown team on the hometown network's broadcast is a fantastic way to beat any homesickness. For the first time, I'm lauding Comcast for their free trial of NHL Center Ice which is showing the Philly Comcast Sportsnet feed. It's been a blast listening to Jim Jackson call this early season game and Philly home opener.

I feel like Prongs, Kimmo Timmonen and Jaromir Jagr must tell some pretty good bar stories. I wonder if they've been around long enough that old rivalries don't matter and they just share war stories. This is what I want to believe is true and I envision them sitting around the ice bath, throwing back Lagers and reminiscing about strip clubs in Toronto.

Bryzgalov has Benjamin Franklin on his mask. That is badass.

I'm not comfortable when Coutourier's on the ice.

It's a beautiful thing when players rocking in real life also rock for your fantasy team (Pronger, Voracek, Bryzgalov).

The Flyers need to separate themselves from the Eagles and stop taking boneheaded penalties.

This season is going to be epic. It needs to be.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Happy birthday, you.

Happy birthday to my favorite hockey player in the history of puck, Chris Pronger. He's an asshole and sarcastic and a defenseman who scores and I adore him.





\



Additionally, I just realized that he also kind of resembles my first legit boyfriend. Interesting.

Sunday, October 2, 2011

Today in sports: Miserable.

It was a shitty day for Philly sports. Luckily, someone made this video to remind us how awesome our city can be at them. #BELIEVE

The Official Philadelphia Sports Power Hour Trailer from John T. on Vimeo.

Thursday, September 29, 2011

R.E.M. - a requiem.

When asked to list my favorite bands, R.E.M. is always at the top. This generally comes as a surprise to people, likely because with my lauding of Tool and all things Maynard, one wouldn't expect a gangly, brooding Michael Stipe to best him in my musical pantheon. With the announcement of the band's break up, I've been revisiting the catalog of music that's defined so much of my life. I can't exactly articulate what it is about them that's held my interest and my heart for the better part of 20 years, but, then again, I don't think I should be able to. For me, part of the beauty of music exists in its inexplicable hold on someone, irrespective of the constraints of time and space. While some songs take me back to a specific event, the majority of R.E.M.'s songs take me to a feeling. And when I grow, the songs grow with me.

Of course, there are tracks inexorably linked to certain people and times: "Daysleeper" will always take me back to 10th grade. "Losing My Religion" will always remind me of Mark Greenstein. "Finest Worksong" will always be among the best opening tracks of any album. I'll always remember crying during "Nightswimming" as R.E.M. played it during their encore at Jones Beach on Long Island back in 1999 (I was so afraid they weren't going to play it, and it had been my favorite song... and when they did, it was perfection - emotive, intimate, beautiful. I was so grateful it made their setlist). "Superman" will always be my power song, getting me through everything from the bullies in 8th grade to grueling volleyball workouts in college. My relationship with this music has been my longest to date, outside of my friendship with TomB. And though I may not listen to them daily, or laud them as much as I should, what R.E.M. has created will be with me forever.

I'm not sad about them breaking up; it's an inevitable terminus for any artistic collaboration, and one that's better chosen by the bandmates than a record label or heroin needle. My mom gasped when I told her, then immediately changed her demeanor to, "Well... yeah, they've been around forever." I reacted the same way when I found out, regretting only that I had seen them but once, although that concert was one of the best I've experienced.

There is so much I want to say about this music, but I'm not only out of practice on writing down my feelings (great job, journalism master!), but I don't even know where to begin. So, I'll let the music speak for itself. I've put together a playlist of my favorite songs, available over on my Spotify profile (if you don't have Spotify... well, you should, it's awesome). Turn it on, turn it up, tune out. That's the best tribute I can give to a band who's given me so much.

Nothing to read? Go outside.

I'm going to skip the post lamenting how I've been MIA and busy and too engrossed in being me to write on here and just say this: Life happens, shut up, go outside and play. Did you play outside this summer? I sure hope so.

Anyway, back to our regularly scheduled alternation of loving stuff and raging about other stuff.

Engage.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

Summer is awesome.

These baby elephants think so. And elephants are never wrong.

That's why I've been MIA. I got a promotion and have been playing all summer, pretty much. So here's a cool video to tide you over until ski season when I post my winter wonderland mountain pr0n all over this place.


Monday, July 4, 2011

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

My life is complete.

This.

SIMH: Nicki Minaj, "Superbass"

I have had the weirdest taste in music lately. Usually I'm all about the rock, but I've been revisiting my love of techno and house, and have been really into glitter pop music. I never thought I'd be one to like Nicki Minaj enough to pay for one of her songs, but I did. This song played on the way home from Tracks' Drag Nation last Friday night; we blasted the shit out of it, the speakers in my friend's car glowing with each thump of the bass. It was just so infectious and fun that it has been stuck in my head since.

Here's a lil ear candy for you.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Cryptic, non-contextual question of the day.

From an extended DM convo with my Twitter friend, Bob:

Some people are fantastic in small spurts and can't make constant contact work. Some couples can't function in small spurts and need the constant contact to make it work. It's possible always being around each other could kill what you have now. Is it worth the chance of losing it, if it means it does actually work, and work well?

It probably isn't worth it. When it comes to relationships, I don't like my odds. And if I've learned anything over the years, it's to stop over-analyzing and to enjoy what you have while you have it.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

SIMH: Mickey & Sylvia, "Love Is Strange"

My friend Joan Roman was tweeting like a madwoman about this song by Mickey & Sylvia this morning and now I can't stop humming the three lyrics I know.



Yeah, some blog posts don't really need more explanation.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

My horoscope, broken down.

From my Google homepage and DailyHoroscope.com:

You may be more unconventional than others realize, even if it appears that you're following the party line.
(Yes. Obviously. I'm a weirdo.)

Your ideas might be quite progressive, yet hiding them now is a good idea so you don't seem out of place at work.
(Again, yes. This is generally good when you work at a relative conservative company, as I've come to learn. Not every company is as delightfully liberal as City Sports. Companies with highly organized levels of bureaucracy can be open to change and progressive ideas, but only if they are presented in with a meek and profit-driven mentality.)

Luckily, you have the ability to concentrate fully on your career. Fortunately, your singular focus may be enough to ease the developing pressure in other areas of your life at this time.

(Yeah. SO LUCKY. My car is dying, headed toward what will undoubtedly be a fantastic explosion of bald tires and axles on 36, I'm not getting laid and the rent is too damn high. Thanks for the assurance, horoscope.)

Tuesday, May 31, 2011

WAIT! One more before the season ends...

Yes, it's still technically ski season here in the 'Rado.

The ridiculousness in video can only be brought by the Red Bull team. Check out Simon Dumont shred a half-pipe - in segments. Basically, he had to completely plan his routine according to the spacing of the pipe's pieces or risk missing the lip and free falling 40 feet to flat snowpack. It's insane, beautiful and incredibly badass. It makes me want to fast-forward to November and get rocking back up in the mountains.

Almost. It would also be nice to be tan.

GMB: Countdown to Pride!

303 Magazine will soon be releasing its special Denver Pride issue before the big June weekend (the unofficial start for me will be June 17 at Tracks when Raja returns to celebrate her birthday... she'll be 21. Again). They gave us a peek behind the scenes of their Face/Off photoshoot (no... not this one) with this video, a look at some of Denver's favorite drag personalities both in and out of face. It's a nice little montage that presents the gender binary of drag in a lighthearted - but not farcical - way, and pays homage to the men themselves, not just their characters.

A morning where you wake up to Nina Flowers serving it is a good one.

Happy Tuesday.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Thank you.

"Remember those walls I built?/Well, baby, they're tumbling down/And they didn't even put up a fight/They didn't even make a sound.

I found a way to let you in/But I never really had a doubt/Standing in the light of your halo/I got my angel now."



This song plays at work so I should be sick of it, but I'm not. In fact, it makes me weirdly emotional... I mean, come on, it's Beyonce for fuck's sake. But this song resonates with me on a visceral level.

That's what I love about music; it hits me the hardest in the most unpredictable way when I need it most.

I've had some issues with people close to me lately. To those who've proven loyal and good to me, I thank you. This one's for you, loves.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Good morning, beautiful: A song for you

"If perfect's what you're searching for, then just stay the same."

Dedicated to my Philly loves. This song is absolute perfection. Just like you.

Here's Bruno Mars with "Just the Way You Are":

Denver, start your engines

I didn't realize how wonderfully gay this city is sometimes.

Denver hosted the kick-off show of the Absolut Real Fruit Tour starring the divas of RuPaul's Drag Race Season 3 at Tracks Nightclub. The show featured Manila Luzon, Miss Congeniality (and who I thought should have been final two if not for her spectacular lip-synch breakdown) Yara Sofia and the Diamond Crowned Queen, Raja.

It was awesome.

I took a bunch of crappy cell phone pictures. You can see all of them here. I didn't really feel like deleting the bad ones, so don't judge. I want all evidence of that night to exist.

I have to say that the Denver queens really turned it out. I was so impressed with Ginger Sexton and the high-larious Felony Misdemeanor, who is also apparently the head of the "Smoke weed for America" coalition. I cannot wait for June 17, the start of Denver Pride weekend, when birthday girl Raja returns with the legendary Lady Bunny and the FEROCIOUS Nina Flowers. THAT is going to be one hell of a night.

Big ups to Tracks for having one of the friendliest staffs around the nightlife scene and to having a pretty cool venue in the Exdo Events Center. You are so my new Woody's.

Here are some of the sweet, low-megapixel cell phone highlights:

Venus Sexton


















Yara Sofia


















Raaaaaaaaaja


















Manila "Someone left the cake out in the rain" Luzon


















"Superstar" finale

Monday, May 16, 2011

Stuck in my head: Goldfrapp

You'll notice in the headline that there's no specific Goldfrapp song that's stuck in my head. I've been listening to a few of them on repeat over the past two days.

It's funny how a band comes back around to you. I haven't listened to Goldfrapp in months; I was bored of it. But something clicked in me the other day and now listening to it is like a new experience. I had the same experience with Dave Matthews during a random, late-winter stretch of 80-degree days. I think it also has a little to do with all the drag infused in my life lately. I'd definitely lip-synch the hell out of these songs.

Here's my current Goldfrapp playlist: "Number 1," "Twist," ". Enjoy.

"Number 1," Supernature


"Twist," Black Cherry


"Ride a White Horse," Supernature


"Ooh La La," Supernature


Oh, and I forgot to mention – they are all weird as fuck.

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Hold Me, Buster Olney

I love it when professionals in the world of sports show love for their teams (except for when Skip Bayless talks about the Cowboys, because no decent human being in America outside of Texas should ever talk about the Cowboys in a positive light because they are evil incarnate. Texans don't know any better; that's why we keep them confined in the flat, hot, hellish land at the bottom of the nation).

I dedicate this snapshot to Peach (manager of current 4th place team, "Hold Me, Buster Olney"; fan of another tribe team, the Braves) and to Dinger (manager of current last place team; fan of a third tribe team, the Chiefs). Here's a little Twittering between two of my faves, Buster Olney and the illustrious Jay Crawford:























I hear ya about bats being in a funk... but we're just lulling Atlanta into a state of false confidence. The slogan "I got 99 problems but a pitch ain't one" is ringing painfully true for America's greatest team from the birthplace of freedom.

In fantasy, however, "Bury Me At Utley's Wounded Knee" is faring a bit better (thanks, Joey Votto). I'm holding 6th/12 with a killer line-up for the weekend. Since my hockey season came to a disgraceful end (both in fantasy and in real life with the Flyers' spectacular fall from grace), expect me to be knee-deep in destroying the teams in not one, but two, fantasy baseball leagues.

Sorry, employer. I'm going to be a lot less productive now.

Tuesday, April 26, 2011

Closing Day @ Breckenridge

Spent Easter with seven fresh inches. Mom and Juno hung at Coppertop at the base of Peak 9 while I skied from first to last chair (I was literally the fifth to last person back up the quad lift at 4:00 p.m.). The stuff at the top of Peak 8 where the Imperial Chair drops off was killer for April - a bit heavy but knee-deep in spots, which is always good. And I picked the absolute right time to stop for lunch: I caught the last six minutes of the Sixers game, including Lou Williams' ridiculous behind-the-line three pointer to clinch the win. We ended the day with sweet, sweet Breckenridge brews and crashing out across the street from the lift.

Thanks for a great season, Breck... now we move to the A-Basin beach.


Before first chair, peak 9.

Peak 7 access point, top of peak 8, Imperial Chair.

Bunny ears at the base of peak 8.

Greetings from 12,300 feet!

Top of the Imperial Lift, highest chair in North America.


Monday, April 11, 2011

Follow the Leader

Philly Pain

In the wake of yesterday's veritable snuff film of a sports choke that was the Master's, Sports Illustrated released their photo-list of the 23 Most Memorable Sports Collapses. I'm proud to reveal that a Philadelphia sports team factors prominently into four such moments on this list.

Why would anyone be proud of their sports team being involved in this?

Well, because contrary to the popular belief (and the schadenfreude that Philly fans have bemoaned for years), we were the victim of only one such collapse. For the other three in which we factored, the Philly team caused the collapse.

Pain - we bringz it.

Friday, April 8, 2011

MJK, Jaxon & the Art of the Interview

Yesterday, my friend Jaxon texted me to let me know that he scored an interview with none other than Maynard James Keenan of Tool/A Perfect Circle/Puscifer/Caduceus Cellars/Merkin Vineyards fame. The multi-talented Keenan is one of my rock idols, has written some of my favorite music and is an artist through and through. This also means he's moody, idiosyncratic and has a notoriously dry sense of humor. He may be a prolific artist - and an intriguing person - but a difficult interview.

I've got to say that Jax handled him really well. If you've never actually interviewed someone (let alone someone whose work you're a fan of), I don't think you can appreciate how difficult it really is. When I interviewed Mike Doughty, I brought up Soul Coughing (because, you know... duh) and he pulled the "That's the past and I don't want to talk about it" card (and I didn't have a heads up from his publicist either). You have to then scramble to regain your train of thought and find something else to talk about; it's even more dire because you're worried about accidentally pissing them off again. It's difficult enough to do this when you're a print reporter, but radio presents a wholly unique challenge. While jocks can edit their audio, they can't fake comfort or rapport. There's only so much you can do in Audacity to make a segment sound natural. The flow just has to be there (IMO, Pierre Robert is one of the best at this. Click around and see for yourself).

I'm jealous of and proud of and excited for my friend because he 1) landed this interview 2) asked some great stuff and 3) rolled with the Puscifer-flavored punches and ended up with an interesting product for his listeners (and I know it's not his first trip to this rodeo, but no matter how long you've been in the game, interviewing consistently well is an accomplishment). Take 15 minutes and listen for yourself.

Jaxon interviews Maynard James Keenan

Wednesday, March 23, 2011

SIMH: Rihanna, "S & M"

I'll admit that I'm often late to the party when it comes to pop music, so maybe everyone's already sick of this song, but I am loving it right now. Although it's pretty tame by legit BDSM standards, the video's hot... and kinda weird. Rihanna sounds more raw on this track than in her other songs (as raw as you can sounds with this much production), like she's forcing the upper part of her range and it fits the phrasing of the hook really nicely. I've been trying to resist her pop bubble catchy-ness since her ubiquitous "Umbrella" haunted me at work, in the streets and on every commercial for the entirety of 2007. But then, this year, she qualified for ESPN's top 3-7 plays of the NBA All-Star Game (let's be real: all the sports journalists were Tweeting about that night was her) and this song came out. So, listen, watch, fog yourself, tie someone up - it's Wednesday, go nuts.


Rihanna - S&M by jimihubabua

Friday, March 18, 2011

Stuck in my head: A Perfect Circle, "3 Libras"

For today - a softer side of Maynard: "3 Libras" from A Perfect Circle. Incubus wishes they wrote this song.

Enjoy.

Monday, March 14, 2011

Bracketology

Well, it's that time of year again... March. The month when baseball dreams form from grapefruits and oranges, when hockey fans are lulled into false senses of playoff security and when madness - March madness - ensues. I love March. I love the brackets, the arguments, the judgment, the edge-of-your-seat excitement (and if the final seconds of the Pac-10 Championship were any indication, we're going to have a lot of the last element this year).

I've created three brackets: The Premier League, The Second Thoughts and The Emotional Favorites. I think the names are self-explanatory. I'll post them here and let the smack talking begin.

Here's to March!

Premier League


Second Thoughts


Emotional Favorites

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Every day should be a Halladay

This is already making the rounds this morning, but I need to post it here lest we forget that the most anticipated baseball season in Philadelphia history is just in the beginning stages of awesome.

Here, Roy Halladay expresses his love for Chooch and MLB2k11. I don't I realized what a tall guy he is; this makes me love him even more than I already do (I didn't know that was possible). You can criticize all you want and say "His acting is almost as good as that blow-up doll's" but then I would have to kill you. There's no possible way that I can be objective when the Phillies or Chris Pronger are discussed. That's just the Philly asshole... um, I mean FAN... in me.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

BUNNIES!!!

I normally don't do the "cute" post (I'm adverse to squee-ing), but this video from Best Friends Animal Sanctuary is pretty great. I mean, it made me smile at 9 a.m. – that alone is proof of the greatness. This behind-the-scenes video takes a look at the goings on at BFAS's bunny sanctuary in Kanab, Utah. The lady who runs it seems to be perfect for the job, too.

Luckily, they don't refer to their sanctuary as "the bunny ranch." That would be awkward.

BFAS is one of the charities to which I contribute what little cash I have every year. They were instrumental in the rescue of the Michael Vick pit bulls and are committed to providing a no-kill sanctuary for abused and sick animals (not just companion animals – they also take horses, pigs and, obviously, BUNNIES). Consider making a donation to them or sponsoring one of their Guardian Angel animals (like this guy, perhaps?).

Tuesday, March 1, 2011

March 1: Zen.

Call it "El-snore-a" if you want, but the view is absolutely spectacular. Mountain conditions were less than perfect (I mean, A-Basin on Friday set the bar), but the weather was perfectly bluebird. I wore my lightweight gloves that are usually reserved for mid-April. The lifty at the Indian Peaks summed it up best:

"March came in like a lamb, eh?"

Indeed.


Wednesday, February 23, 2011

This makes me happy.

I've had a crap day. This photo makes me feel better.



Love.

Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Hallelujah: A triptych

I was Skyping with my mom and sending her some music when she asked me about that song from the episode of The West Wing where CJ's Secret Service manfriend gets shot.

Instantly, I knew: "Hallelujah." The Jeff Buckley version. The one that makes everyone cry.

Rather than simply send her that version, I sent her all three: Buckley's tear jerker, Rufus Wainwright's relatively upbeat and melodic version and the original, off-key version by Leonard Cohen.

Each version holds a special place in my musical memory. The versions are all so different, but the beauty of the lyrics persists. It's a testament to the power original song that it holds up so well under interpretation – and there have been many. I figured I would put my favorite three up here and let you, the ever gentle reader, decide which speaks to you the most.

Enjoy.




(On another note: I need to see Rufus in concert. Can't believe I haven't yet)

Proof that life isn't fair: Larry Mendte's dumb luck


This is a good, ol' fashioned, Adrienne Saia-style rant.

First, you need some background: Larry Mendte. Google him.

I'll start by saying that through the entire scandal and immediately afterward, I didn't have a problem with the guy. He let his whopping, local news anchor ego get the best of him and he fucked up. Big time. Like, federal investigation big time. Mostly, I felt bad for his wife who stood by him through this entire embarrassing, non-sex scandal. I had met Alycia Lane and was immediately put off by her and her entourage, so I had no problem believing that she was as much of the problem as he. The guy pleaded guilty, went away for a while, wrote a few blogs here and there – that was about it.

Then he drops this gem for Philadelphia magazine. (Go on, read it.)

Ridiculous.

This is the most self-aggrandizing piece of MySpace diary bullshit I've read in a long time. Whatever respect I had for Mendte was wiped out here; while he previously took the high road of admitting guilt and taking responsibility for his actions, he's now resorted to calling out people who have supposedly turned their backs. When you become a subject of news (by your own actions, no less), then members of the media need to talk about you. Period. You know how to avoid that? Stay out of trouble (and other people's email accounts).

After his federal indictment, guilty plea and subsequent house arrest, Mendte embarked on several cricket-filled pitch meetings with A-list executives. Many didn't go well and he was out of work for quite some time. But then he won Powerball!!! And then one of his pitches got picked up!!! And, in the meantime, he had job offers in excess of what my mom has made over the past 10 years!! But it was weally, weally hard guys. He had to tap into his savings to make ends meet.

Honestly, this is worth a fucking, (probably) paid magazine editorial? What about focusing on those who've also busted ass to create their professional lives and haven't broken federal laws in the meantime? How about focusing on people who struggle to make ends meet every day without having a combined annual income of $1 million plus? What about the millions who haven't fucked up and STILL don't have jobs that put their work in millions of homes every night? Mendte's "post-it" story isn't worth publication; it isn't even worth a five-line brief. It's the diary entry of a whiny sycophant whose own failures as a citizen brought him into the "it" that "destroyed" his life and a self-indulgent paean to the dumb luck of a Powerball ticket that pulled him through.

It's not that I don't believe that Mendte deserves success; he spent decades as an Emmy Award-winning newscaster and anchor. He undoubtedly used his talents and screen time to make the contacts who helped him during his "post-it" time. But when admitted ex-cons like him and Michael Vick (whose crimes literally made me vomit, who is a reprehensible creature, who unlike Mendte, destroyed the life of another living thing, who is the subject of an entirely separate rant that I'm not ready to unleash) whine about the difficulties of life after their indiscretions, it makes me sick. There are good people who, on the daily, of no fault of their own, are embroiled in years-long stages of "post-it" that never come to the fortuitous end that Mendte's did. And they don't get the space in Philly Mag to whine about it.

I'm no internet troll, and I'm no jealous hater. But Larry – stick to the reporting and commenting on the news and stop trying to make your story a part of it. Your "post-it" is not a success story, it's a slap in the face to those whose lives haven't been so lucky.

Photo courtesy of the awesome-sauce Paul Triggiani.

Monday, February 21, 2011

Stuck in my head: Placebo, "Pure Morning"


One of the suggested videos at the end of the White Town video from the other day was Placebo's "Pure Morning." The reminder of how much I love this song could not have come at a more appropriate time, as I'm exploring my fascination with gender-bending drag queens and reviving my passion for all-black clothing and nail polish.

I remember exactly where I was when I first heard this song; it was also the first time I saw the video. I was at my dad's house on 17th Street, laying awake in the big bed. He was passed out on the couch in the living room, snoring. My insomnia started when I was in sixth grade, maybe even earlier. Actually, it wasn't quite insomnia, but I made myself stay up as long as possible every night. Dad was never very good at locking the door (or, you know, even closing it) and one night someone came in (you can't use the term "broke in" when the door is unlocked) and stole a bunch of stuff. That terrified me and when I was at that house, I was never really able to sleep comfortably. So, I watched TV – a lot of it.

This was back when MTV still played videos. It was absurdly late, and I was dozing off. Then "Pure Morning" came on. It felt like lightning struck me – suddenly, sleep wasn't an option, not at all. This thin, pale, androgynous beauty with the black hair and fingernails I desperately wished to have was about to jump. His... her... his voice whined about friends with weed being friends indeed and bit his lip and stared at the transfixed 14-year-old American girl. I fell in love. It felt wrong. But the song and the man singing it were utterly intoxicating. I was confused. I was transfixed.

Over the years, Placebo popped up in my playlist here and there, catching my attention again when they tagged David Bowie for the remix of "Without You I'm Nothing." It wasn't until I became friends with Sara Heindorf and began the year of concerts in 2007 that I revved up my love for this band. Sara loved Placebo, made me a mix CD of her favorite songs, had an extra ticket to their show at the TLA on South Street (still my favorite concert venue), and needed someone to share in her passion for Brian Molko. I was relieved that someone else shared my fascination; for this and other reasons (like speeding down 76 to the Fat City apartment on 4th and Lombard after a night at Grape Street, screaming along to "Meds"), I'm glad I had Sara in my life then, especially on the night of that show.

Hands down, Placebo was one of the best concerts I've attended. Their sound is cinematic and loud for a three-piece, in the same vein as Muse is today. On stage, Molko's not as moody and brooding as one would expect for all of the black clothing and minor-tuned melodies. He's charming. And he smiles. I'll always remember him smiling on that stage, looking out at the crowd, seemingly bemused by our adoration and feeding off the energy in the room.

It was intoxicating.

Friday, February 18, 2011

Hooligans in trees

North Bowl, Outback, Keystone Resort... me smiling, repping B. Dawk, not dead.


The hooligans I ski with.

The tree that caused Dinger's demise.


Dinger, sans nose skin, post-bleeding.


Obligatory self-portrait while guys are busy debating which line to take.

Five inches accumulation, my ass, but overall a great day. Powder in the trees, getting less sucky on the moguls. And, let's be honest, even a bad day of skiing is better than any day at work!

Stuck in my head: White Town, "Your Woman"

So much for all your highbrow, Marxist ways / Just use me up and then you walk away / Boy, you can't play me that way...

I have this love/hate relationship with Pandora and I think we're back in love. Before work, I listen to my RuPaul/La Roux/Katy Perry station (don't judge) because it pumps me up for the eight hours of fake smiling ahead of me (seriously, stop judging, I like pop music, okay?).

Today this late-90s gem popped up. I totally remembered this song, mostly because the Top 40 station in Allentown, where I grew up, played it non-stop. That and the non-stop pulsating horn in the background. The lyrics completely didn't make sense to me at the time since the singer was male. Indeed, White Town is one guy, Jyoti Prakash Mishra, rocking an NIN-type "I play all the instruments" vibe (albeit less awesome than what our god Trent has created over the years). Today, with all of the gender-bending craziness I've been exposed to and infatuated with, the lyrical content doesn't seem as odd to me.

While I didn't appreciate its ubiquity back then, I'm kind of loving this lil song right now. Here's White Town with "Your Woman":

Monday, February 14, 2011

Remember love.

I woke up this morning and was greeted by a barrage of Valentine's Day tweets. I completely forgot about today, mostly because I'm single and don't pay much attention to holidays in general. Usually Valentine's Day brings out the misanthrope in me, but I'm trying to rethink my outlook on the subject. I'm not going to complain about my love life or relationships, because to me love isn't about building your world around one other person. For me, love is my mom, my friends, Philadelphia, running with my dog, skiing on a bluebird day and should encompass your entire life.

To celebrate today - and life - here's one of my favorite bands Fat City Reprise with "The Love Song."

www.ourstage.com