After the break-up
Wake Up! Shake it off
I know you must hate it here
Find me either way
Wilco Haiku: What’s that on my Shirt?
A few weeks ago, Wilco’s website (Wilcoworld.net) announced a contest for a Gibson SG Guitar signed by the band. You just had to submit a Wilco related haiku poem. While I am not one for poetry, I wanted that fucking guitar. The deadline was a few weeks ago and I haven’t heard anything, so I am assuming I lost. Since the effort was made and and I won’t be able to post this week, I am going to publish some of the better ones I came up with every day. I hope you enjoy my attempts at winning a free guitar.
What’s that on my shirt?
Started war on war
Ash from American Flags
Staining my clean shirt
ADD: It dawned on me that people might not know what Haiku is. From Wikipedia:
Haiku: is a form of Japanese poetry, consisting of 17 moras (or on), in three metrical phrases of 5, 7, and 5 moras respectively.
[1] Haiku typically contain a kigo, or seasonal reference, and a kireji or verbal caesura. In Japanese, haiku are traditionally printed in a single vertical line, while haiku in English usually appear in three lines, to parallel the three metrical phrases of Japanese haiku.
[2] Previously called hokku, haiku was given its current name by the Japanese writer Masaoka Shiki at the end of the 19th century.
Concert Review: The Cranberries @ The Electric Factory
Date: November 17th, 2009
Location: Philadelphia, Pa
Venue: The Electric Factory
Opening Act: Griffin House
[Opening Act: Griffin House]
I wish I could say something about Griffin House, but the man didn’t make much of an impression. He didn’t sound terrible and the music was pleasant enough. He just didn’t stand out: House sounds like every guy who ever picked up an acoustic guitar and made nice sounds. I will give him marks for attempting to engage the audience and making note that he was a fan of the cranberries when he was a teenager. It was a nice touch. He left the stage in a timely matter, not overstaying his welcome, and that’s it.
[Venue Information]
After Griffin House left the stage I remarked to my wife that the sound was very cloudy. It was hard to hear although the volume was fine. It just sounded washed out (music and talking). While that was a big issue, overall we had a good time at the Electric Factory. I have been there in the past and it had been hotter than hell, but it was very comfortable last night.
We ended up in the upper section by the bars, waiting for friends. I scouted the area and picked out a spot that gave us a clear view of the stage. We were close to the security guard: I mention this because the guy was EXCELLENT. Our clear view depended on people not standing in a restricted area; at another show, the guards would just let them creep over, but this guy was on the ball – ensuring our awesome view. On top of that, at one point in the night he gave my wife a stool to sit on (completely unprompted). He didn’t yell at people – he was polite but stern and he made my night way more enjoyable. On our way out I hooked him up with a tip because he restored my faith in standing room shows (positive reinforcement!). This guy was a total asset to the Electric Factory.
[The Cranberries]
The Cranberries came out very quickly (no 45 minute wait between sets). They began the show with a tune I recalled, but have no idea what the name was. When Dolores O’Riordan pointed the mic at the audience to sing, I realized that I really don’t know many Cranberries songs besides “Linger”, “Ode to My Family”, and “Zombie”.
Luckily for me, the band wasn’t stingy with their known songs. They mixed up the set well between slower and more rocking tunes. O’Riordan jumped and shimmed across the stage like a girl half her age (she is almost 40). Her voice sounded great (I noticed she was using an echo effect for many of the songs, which sounded cool), and she made an effort to connect with the Philadelphia crowd; I think she has family in the city but I couldn’t make out what she was saying. Good amount of chatter, but not too much.
The band sounded great, they obviously knew their way around the songs. Dolores played a few tunes from her solo album and the band provided back up. The new material sounded good, but not mind blowing. I decided once they played “Zombie” I was going to leave and beat the crowd out. Before we left, we heard an excellent version of “Salvation” – I had completely forgotten that song. Soon enough “Zombie” was played and we said good night to our friends and left.
[Conclusion]
I had an excellent time at the show: The band sounded great, the employees at the venue exceeded their job function to enhance my concert going experience, and I got home a decent time… which is good because I had to cancel my day off today. I will leave you as I left the venue last night:
Allison’s 29th Birthday
Over the weekend, our friends gathered to celebrate Allison’s (and her twin sister Andrea’s) birthday. Since we frequented a few new establishments, I figured I would roll it all together in a blog post.
[Jose Pistolas]
As usual, we started our night with Jose Pistolas. I told everyone to meet us there between 6:30 PM and 8 PM. The bar had a few specials on the menu and I was very pleased with their new beef brisket sandwich (I know the cook does a great job with slow cooked meat and doesn’t take any short cuts). I was sort of hopping that they would have Troegs Mad Elf on tap, but not yet. I know I am repeating myself, but I really do love this bar. We had a section to ourselves, the food is always good, the drinks are always interesting, and the bartenders are good people. By 8:00, the whole crew had assembled: Nate, Theresa, Sean, Kamran, Hiro, and Tee. We would be meeting Andrea at the next bar and it was time to go.
[Jolly’s Piano Bar]
Thankfully, it was a warm and dry night for November which made the 8 block walk to Jolly’s Piano Bar pleasant. Allison had mentioned this place a few weeks ago because she read an article about their grand opening – it sounded like a fun place to bring girls on their birthday. When we arrived, I was immediately troubled about how narrow the building was. When we walked in, I was shocked by how many people were packed into this place.
The sound was terrible – the pianos were packed in the back section of the bar and there was very little seating. The sound coming from the pianos and their speaker system were conflicting with each other, so the music – sitting at the bar – sounded distorted. I had called a few days earlier and spoke to a gentlemen about bringing a large party into the bar; he said it might be a little tight be we would make do. He was so wrong. After 15 minutes, Sean and I took a walk to scout other bars in the area (my sister in law requested we stay close to where she parked her car – which in retrospect should have been a non-issue since I knew I was going to walk her back anyway).
We covered a few blocks in a circle and identified bars that could handle our group. We decided we should attempt a Sushi/Saki bar called Fuji Mountain.
[Fuji Mountain]
Sean and I were informed that this place had 4 floors of bars and it didn’t look all that busy. Perfect. We ran back to Jollys to give the group a choice. They agreed. We walked into Fuji Mountain and immediately walked up the stairs. We found an empty lounge with karaoke equipment. I knew this was too good to be true, so I went back down to find a manager. The room was booked for the night.
The manager told me he could get us a table in 20 minutes. The group came back down and sat at the sushi bar. We attempted to order drinks and we were told we would have to do that at the bar upstairs which was crowded with a private party (of squids). I started getting pissed off and went outside with Kamran (all of the bars were super hot – I guess since the weather was so unexpectedly nice, some places might have had the heat on). While outside, we were making faces at the group inside (they were sitting at the window). A customer walked out of the restaurant and accused me of urinating on the building. Since I wasn’t (which was quite clear – since my penis wasn’t exposed), I quickly went on the offensive and knocked her off of her high horse. He husband looked appropriately embarrassed for her.
Inside, the group was still without drink and we were not at a table where we could order. It was time to abort this plan. I thanked the manager for his effort and we left.
[Devil’s Alley]
We walked two blocks down to Devil’s Alley which looked like it had enough space. By this point Theresa had invited a few friends to join us so we had to snag a few more tables. Not a problem at this place. Long story short – our waitress was terrible. She managed to bring two rounds of drinks in the 90 minutes we were there. Nate and I had to go back and forth to the bar to get drinks.
By this point, Allison had her fill of drinking (she attempted to take down Jose’s beef brisket sandwich all by herself and couldn’t handle it, that ruined her for the night), her sister was getting ready to go home, and the rest of the crew looked like they could stay or go. After walking Andrea back to her car, Nate and I decided to cut our loses at Devil’s Alley and head home to finish drinking there. Sean opted to join us since he was celebrating his announcement with Theresa.
On the train, Allison and I were hoping we would run into the crazy law clerk who we had run into a few times before, but alas we did not see him on this evening. We ended the night watching Crank 2, all of us trying to not fall asleep on the couch.
I felt that this night was a bit of a cluster-fuck and since I planned it, it is on my shoulders – I am going to have to do better next year. But I appreciate every coming out to help me celebrate my wife and Andrea’s birthdays. I am reviewing the tape and I will bring my A-game next time.
Office Etiquette: Appropriate Sneezing Responses
Office Etiquette: Appropriate Sneezing Responses
Yesterday I was in an all day meeting (which could/should/will be an article all to itself) and at some point during the session, someone sneezed and another person said “God Bless You”. The person didn’t just “GodBlessYou” in the mindless way everyone seems to; they made it a point to clearly and slowly say GOD…..BLESS….YOU. The three second act started to buzz around my head for a few minutes and I started to wonder if anyone was offended at the usage of the word God (Christian or Non-Christian)
If you are Christian, it seems kind of petty to invoke the name of the creator of all existence just because somebody had a very small biological reaction to dust in the air. I have heard that saying “Bless You” or “God Bless You” took hold during the dark ages because people thought a sneeze was your “soul attempting to escape your body”. After some research that lore seems to be confirmed:
Several possible origins are commonly given. The practice of blessing a sneeze, dating as far back as at least 77 AD, however, is far older than most specific explanations can account for.
A legend holds that it was believed that the the heart stops beating and the phrase “bless you” is meant to ensure the return of life or to encourage your heart to continue beating.
One explanation holds that the custom originally began as an actual blessing. Gregory I became Pope in 590 as an outbreak of the bubonic plague was reaching Rome. In hopes of fighting off the disease, he ordered unending prayer and parades of chanters through the streets. At the time, sneezing was thought to be an early symptom of the plague. The blessing (“God bless you!”) became a common effort to halt the disease.
A variant of the Pope Gregory I story places it with Pope Gregory VII, then tells the common story of “Ring Around the Rosey” being connected to the same plague
Another version says that people used to believe that your soul can be thrown from your body when you sneeze, that sneezing otherwise opened your body to invasion by the Devil or evil spirits, or that sneezing was your body’s effort to force out an invading evil spirit. Thus, “bless you” or “God bless you” is used as a sort of shield against evil.
Alternatively, it may be possible that the phrase began simply as a response for an event that was not well understood at the time.
Another belief is that people used to see sneezing as a sign that God would answer your prayers or an omen of good fortune or good luck.In this case, “Bless you” would be in recognition of that luck.
Tibetan Buddhists believe a sneeze (like meditation, falling asleep, preparing to die) can provide a moment of “clear consciousness,” when people are opened to greater understanding.
Credit: Wikipedia
PS: I had assume that “Gesundheit” meant the same thing in German, but the word has origins in both the German and Jewish cultures and has a minor but interesting variation. It is assumed that “Gesundheit” isn’t blessing the other person, in rough translation in means “good health to me”.
While the history of the term is certainly interesting, I wonder if phrases like that have a place at international corporations. The combination of cultural diversity and a bored HR departments could be a dangerous mix. My intent is to avoid sounding like “no more Xmas Parties in the office because it offends the non-Christians” people because that is an exhausting position (I have a Christmas party every year with Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and non-believers in attendance). On this side note: I don’t view Xmas as religious in any way; I view Christmas as tourists view “The Running of the Bulls” in Spain. It is a cultural event that everyone can enjoy from the safety of balcony and should you find yourself on the ground and the path of a bull (or large angry house wife looking for that last toy on the list)… RUN.
For the most part, when someone sneezes, I am not thinking “I wonder what I should say”, I am usually thinking, “I hope that clown covered their face”. In a related event yesterday, there was a bull of a woman sitting behind me on the train ride home who was not only loudly conducting a conversation with two other people, she was sneezing and coughing all over the back of my head, I had to move. I did not say “GodBlessYou” or “Gesundheit” but I was giving her the death stare and maybe wishing her soul would fly away, infecting St. Peter at the gates of heaven. I also hope that he kicks her ass out. A man can dream…
UPDATE: This little article has become the all time most popular on the blog. If you have a second, can you tell me how and why you came across it – I just like to know where my readers are coming from.
Thanksgiving Eve (2006)
[A Brief History]
About 8 years ago (when I was still in college and interning), my cousin’s business was located in downtown Marlton, NJ. I used to meet him for lunch regularly at his office and I often brought my co-worker “Shame” (I am going to keep the naming methods from “The Night We Got Beat Up”). During the holidays at my office, people used to leave around lunch and never came back. We got the wink that we could leave at noon the day before Thanksgiving and decided to meet up with my cousin and his business partner. When we got there, we couldn’t agree on a place to go, so my cousin looked at his buddy and said – “Follow Us” with an ominous tone.
We ended up going to the Jug Handle and for the next few years it became a mini-tradition. As my cousin and his partner stopped going for various reasons, I started supplementing the crowd with other work buddies. The Jug Handle was great because it had cheap food, cheap drinks, pool, darts, and shuffle board. Eventually people switched jobs and meeting at the Jug Handle became a pain in the ass because nobody worked or lived around there anymore and the cops were out looking for DUI’s. In 2006 we agreed to meet in a small bar attached to Fuddruckers because we knew nobody would be there and we could have a few hours to ourselves. This is the story of that day.
[Fuddruckers]
I decided to open up the invitation to my cousin and a few college buddies, Fudds is near my cousin’s place so I thought he could make it, but he couldn’t that year, but my college friends did. Republicaster made the trip from Pa and agreed to spend the night. With Republicaster involved, I knew it was going to be a crazy night. Another friend agreed to drive us to our liquid lunch and my future wife would meet us there when she was done work. On the way to the bar, we picked up The Mongolian from my Fear and Loathing stories. On this particular day, Republicaster had just discovered the video “Two Girls and a Cup” and made us all watch it. If you don’t know what this video is, I wouldn’t recommend googling it unless you like watching people eat freshly squeezed feces. Republicaster played that damn video on every computer he came in contact with that day and on his iPhone.
We were really early and the other guys informed us they were getting out of work late, so we stopped at a Chinese Buffet down the street and loaded up. After 20 minutes, The Mongolian looked like he was going to pass out in a food coma. He stopped eating which had me concerned for his whole day drinking stamina. After 40 minutes of killing time, we got the word that the others were on their way, so we left for the bar. Clowncar and “The Professor” were already there and we quickly settled in and started taking advantage of Fudd’s Blue Moon special (I don’t know how I remember that). Shame and Grapeape were the next to arrive and we started playing pool and darts. We were having a great time and then Shirts walks in sporting a 1992 US Basketball Dream Team Jersey complete with head and wrist bands. The verbal beating that Shirts took that day became legendary (check out the video). Shame actually had to tell us to stop because Shirts was really upset over the verbal lashing. It didn’t stop Clowncar.
[La Casa de Shirt]
My future wife showed up just as “The Professor”, Grapeape, and Clowncar were leaving. My college friend left to pick up his lady friend and never came back – typical. Shirts suggested we enjoy a few beverages at his place. Off we went. Shirts had recently moved into a nice condo and he was definitely entertaining often based on the amount of booze at the place. Republicaster immediately went up to the loft and started showing everyone “Two Girls and a Cup”, even after repeated viewings, I threw up in my mouth a little bit. Republicaster must have had it on repeat as I heard him belly-laughing for several minutes. Up to this point, I hadn’t really noticed how much Republicaster was drinking, but I started to see bottles of Shirt’s scotch start to pile up next to his recycle bin. Shirts had invited some of his other friends over as well because he was leaving the country for the holidays for a few weeks. Shirts also invited his neighbors over. His neighbors were divorced women who were dressed just a little bit provocatively. Republicaster was all over this. Somehow they started talking politics and George Bush. At some point in the night, Republicaster said “George Bush is a great president – how can you deny it? – we won the war on terror”. If you haven’t figured it out, this is how Republicaster earned his name. This started a shouting match between Republicaster, Allison, and I that Shirt’s semi-tramp neighbor had to break up by getting Republicaster to go outside with her for a cigarette. Looking at the recycling bin there were two empty bottles of scotch, 2 empty bottles of rum, 3 empty vodkas, and at least a case of beer. Allison didn’t have one drink at Shirt’s place and I stopped well before my shouting match with Republicaster which was good because Shame, The Mongolian, and Republicaster wanted to leave. Shame’s dad was playing music at an old-school Italian bar near Berlin, NJ so we agreed to go there.
[Volare’s]
This place was totally “Guido’ed” out. Lots of dark slicked back hair, gold chains, teased hair, Frank Sinatra covers…. Shame immediately started doing shots of tequila with family members at the bar. The Mongolian got sucked into the vortex and quickly became a drunken zombie. Republicaster found his way to the outdoor patio and started making friends outside. Me and Allison were sitting at a table waiting for Shame to find some girl to take home so we could leave. We stayed a while as Shame performed with his dad’s band, but I could see most of the women at the bar were more like family to Shame and the girls that met his approval – well, I think he already slept with most of them. Shame decided it was time to go to a bar near his house. At this point Allison said enough. We promptly told the guys we would take them to the bar but they have to find their own way home OR we would drive them all back to their houses. Shame wanted to go to the bar (because he could walk home). Republicaster got caught up in Shame’s spell thinking he could actually get his run off. Shame left no run off. If there are three girls, Shame will try to get all three. I tried to warn Republicaster but he wasn’t listening.
[Home-bound]
As we pulled into the new bar’s parking lot, I looked at The Mongolian who had not spoken a word in over an hour, I told him we could take him home and he looked like he really want to leave with us, but Republicaster pulled him out of the car. I looked at Republicaster – who was supposed to be staying at my house – and said “if you leave with them, I am not coming back out to get you. You will have to find your own way.” He said he understood and with that I shut off my cell phone. Getting home was terrible. There were so many checkpoints I was really glad Allison hadn’t had a drink in close to 7 hours, but I still took her down back-roads to avoid any possibility of conflict with the police. We got home and went to bed. I never did turn my cell phone on.
[The Morning After]
Thanksgiving day was misty and cold. As I turned on my cellphone I knew I was going to have several obscenity-laced message and I was right. As I predicted, Shame quickly found a girl and left Republicaster and The Mongolian behind. The Mongolian had enough and started to walk home (about 2 miles). Republicaster started following him back. As Republicaster followed, he called me on his cell phone to tell me to pick him up, of course I never answered. The messages became more desperate and crude. The Mongolian told me Republicaster was trying to hitch-hike a one point (Republicaster hates to walk). Eventually they made it to The Mongolian’s house. The Mongolian’s wife – Lady Death Strike – is a very clean woman. Their rug and couch are white and you have to be very careful not to mess up their pristine set-up. This was not a good situation for Republicaster.
Lady Death Strike later told me she heard snoring from downstairs and had assumed it was one of their friends but she didn’t know anyone that snored that loud. The Mongolian was still in his drunken zombie mode and offered no information. The good lady was left to wonder who was sleeping on her couch that evening.
As I deleted Republicaster’s half-dozen messages, Allison and I went to the gym. After we got out, my phone rang and it was a very panicked Republicaster asking me to get him the hell out of The Mongolian’s cave before they woke up. He didn’t want to deal with any awkward conversations with Lady Death Strike who he didn’t know well at the time. Allison and I laughed as we went to get Republicaster. I texted him when I was at the door and he snuck out.
Republicaster promptly informed me that he lost his credit card and I needed to take him back to the Guido Bar. So I had to drive to Berlin (about 25 minutes) and then back to my place (which was 40 minutes). When we got to the bar, some meat-head was yelling at his girlfriend; he peeled off when he noticed Allison and I were shamelessly watching him. Another girl dropped off a very shady looking character at the bar. He quickly got in his car and pulled off without saying a word. Ah, who doesn’t love the sights of trashy South Jersey one night stands.
Republicaster got back in the car and we went back to my place. He quickly grabbed his stuff and left so he can celebrate the holiday with his family. My family enjoyed our typical early meal and then I drove back to Berlin to take my Grandmother home and then off to my future in-laws.
[Conclusion]
Needless to say it was a long 24 hours. The last few years we have continued to meet at Fudds for a few hours. It has been getting harder as some of the guys have kids at home and they need to get back and help their wives with holiday preparations. Regardless of the obstacles, we plan on getting together again this year.
If you find yourself going out on Thanksgiving Eve – make sure you have a designated driver and don’t “Shame” your friends.