Friday, November 27, 2009

5-4-Fri: Cuteness from the Niece & Nephews

Ya know, sometimes kids say the darndest things (TM).

I have recently been proxy parenting and gotten in some hard-core time with the Playskool set. They never, ever stop needing attention; they forget mission-critical instructions, such as "Don't stick a fork into that;" they are capable of a level of self-referential aggrievement at how the behavior of others doesn't bend to their will that rivals Dick Cheney; but, they are smart, cute, and say very funny and endearing things. Hence, this week's list of hee-larious behavior from the kids:

1. After taking the niece and nephews to the book store, getting them each a cookie and hot chocolate, storming around the isles of the Kids' Section, getting everyone their very own book (and some their own bag, please), and taking the scenic route back home with a promise of driving by the kindergarten attended by a favorite cousin, one says to me: "Uncle iClipse, you're a fun guy."

2. Sitting in front of the gas fireplace early in the morning, one turns to me and says, "The fire never runs out of batteries."

3. I was eating lunch on a beach trip vacation this summer when one of the kids clambered up onto the chair next to me and asked, "Whassat?" I replied that I was eating a sandwich with chips and asked if he wanted Frito. "Yes." Do you like Fritos, I asked. "Yes." Fritos are good, I noted. "Yes." Are you having a good time at the beach I asked. "Yes." Do you want to go down to the beach later, I queried. "Yes." Long pause. Then, as he was climbing back down from the table to return to playing with toy cars, he said in parting: "I like talking to you."

4. My next door neighbor was chatting with me across the driveway over the holidays and we were catching up on life when we were treated to the distinct, metallic ping of a piece of gravel winging off the side panel of a car. She spun around on her heel to see her oldest son staring at his grandfather's Subaru with a supremely guilty look on his face. "Did you just throw a rock at Grandpa's car?!," she demanded. "Sorry, Mommy," he said, turning to face us, "My brain and my hand were not talking to each other."

5. A while ago I ran into my old youth group leader walking along the street downtown with her very young daughter in tow. We stopped walking and started talking. After 15 minutes, we heard a loud sigh and both looked down to find her daughter staring into the sky with a long-suffering look on her face, rolling her eyes, and flapping her fingers and thumb together in a "yakety-yak" movement.

PS - My friend just texted to say that over Thanksgiving he is visiting Washington, DC and is on the Metro with his five-year-old who announced to a complete stranger, "Stand back, doors are closing!" Oh, and the slow and morose "I and Love and You" by the Avett Brothers is woefully inappropriate to an upbeat posting about cuteness and kids, but it IS kinda nice; now playing on iTunes.

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Funny Thing: Waaah Wahhh

So, I have been spending time recently with a young lady who has a five-year-old kid.

You know how parenting a young kid can woefully warp your sense of appropriate conversational riposte.

My brother tells me of the time, when his first-born was 2 years old, that he visited the auto supply shop looking for a cab light replacement bulb for a late '80s Mazda and they gave him the wrong one but the guy behind the counter didn't believe it so he came out to the car to install it himself. The mechanic couldn't, of course, get the incorrect bulb to actually fit into the housing but he didn't want to be wrong so he kept trying to force it. Suddenly, the bulb snapped out of his hand and rocketed off the windshield and around the front of the car, landing on the passenger floor mat. My brother involuntarily yelped, "Uh oh!" in a sing-song voice.

A colleague of mine recalls the time--when her son was a toddler--that her high-end Congressional reporter husband was at a swanky Hill fete and a US Senator in line in front of him at the buffet dropped a croquette on the floor. As the appetizer plunged off the Senator's plate toward the hallowed marble of the Capitol, the reporter sang out, "Oopsie!"

Which brings me to a funny thing:

This young lady and I were recently, how you say in Amreeka, fooling around. I'm all amped up AND trying to get her to give me her earlobe or something AND she isn't reading me AND then I'm trying harder to get around to her neck AND she's getting confused AND I am OCDing on that earlobe AND there is hair in everyone's face AND hormones are raging AND it's about 90 degrees AND the windows are fogging up AND she still has no idea what I am gunning for ... and she takes my face in her hand and blurts out, "Use your words!"

Waaah Wahhh.

PS - Still, we laughed our butts off. Oh, and "Let's Go Surfing" by The Drums is a sassy little number; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, November 6, 2009

5-4-Fri: Son of Horrifying Things

Were you terrified by Halloween’s Five-for-Friday list? Did you cower in fear at its enumeration of horrifying offenses against Man and Nature? Did you shudder and start and look under your bed before you went to sleep to be sure that, say, a tramp stamp was not lurking there?

Well, the thrill is back, baybee. Prepare yourself for “Son of 5 Horrifying Things!” Bwa ha ha ha.

1. Fanny Packs. Dear tourists visiting Your Nation’s Capital: Fanny packs are a no-no. Say it with me. Now, I can understand how you might make the mistake. Things are different on vacation. You make a little more noise in the sack--’cause, hey, who knows the neighbors in a hotel? You sleep in. You start drinking before Noon. Home rules don’t apply. What goes on on vacation stays on vacation, right? Wrong. There are still limits. You wouldn’t kill a man and say to yourself, “Vaycay makes it okay” would you? No. So you still cannot wear a fanny pack. I know that they seem like the best of both worlds: all the ease of a wallet, all the utility of a backpack. But this line of thinking gave us the skort and the El Camino. Not okay. Stop it.

2. Hose with Open-Toe Shoes. Ladies, gather close and listen carefully. Winter is coming. Yet, you still have all those fresh, kicky, open-toe shoes that made summer so much fun. (Maybe they were on SUCH a good sale. Maybe you wore them out to that bar crawl that one night and got your groove back. Whatever.) And it seems like such an easy thing, as the weather cools down, to enjoy all the freedom of your cute, pedi-baring shoes with the practical addition of snuggly pantyhose. The perfect fall pairing, non? Non! Stop dressing like grandma. If a straight man can spot this infraction from 20 yards away, it is a major offense. Trust me. Time to break out the boots.

3. Boogers. I am routinely surprised to pull up to a stop in traffic, glance to the side and see someone sitting at the steering wheel with a finger up their nose going for the gold. This visual train wreck is neck-wrenching reality television cum performance art and, naturally, you can’t look away. The driver roots and rotates. Sometimes a combo thumb-inside/finger-on-the-outside of the nostril method is used to help excavate a particularly big nugget. And the whole time you begin to involuntarily chant beneath your breath, “nononononono, donteatit donteatit donteatit....” Yet, inevitably, the miner next to you pans booger gold out of a rich vein and (a) holds it up to examine it and then (b) eats it. How, how, how is this okay? People, we can SEE you in your car. It is not Harry’s Cloak of Invisibility. It is not Superman’s Fortress of Solitude. And, even if it were, you should not, not, not eat your buggers. It was not alright when you were 3 years old. It is not alright now. Brrrrr.

4. Sideways Baseball Caps. Hey, everyone who is living in a post-gangsta, suburban mall-going, hemmed baggy pants-wearing, studio-managed rap pablum world: quit it with the sideways baseball caps. You don’t even know why you are wearing them like that. And they look stupid. So you look stupid. Not stoopid, mind you, just stupid. And not fresh. Not at all fresh. Here’s a secret: real gangbangers look stupid wearing sideways baseball caps; but no one tells them that because they’ll kill you if you do. And you, son, are not a gangbanger. You are a middle-class poser who is taking his allowance/paycheck from obeying/working for the man down to the movie theater/shopping center/bar to hang out with your friends/co-workers in a totally safe place to chat/meet girls/watch a corporately-packaged sporting event. If you were any less edgy you’d be round. By the way, being black doesn’t get you off the ersatz hook, either. So, straighten the brim, bro. And, no, leaving the “Official Product” holographic price sticker on doesn’t help. It just helps you square the circle on the Snoop-Dogg-to-Minnie-Pearl equation.

5. “W” Car Stickers. Mein freunds, it is safe to take the “W: The President” sticker off your entry-level German import and/or SUV. By now, you have gone well beyond stubborn “rogue” statement-making into a place that just says, “Attention, citizens, I am a feeble-minded contrarian who doesn’t want to acknowledge the existence global warming or minorities.” It’s not hard. Just slip into the garage under cover of darkness and peel that bad boy off the window. (Look, if you’d really meant it you’d have put it on the paintjob anyway, right? You think Dick Cheney is buying magnetic political stickers!? He’s stapling that @#$* right onto the bumper.) Time to face it that your guy destroyed a perfectly good first world economy, cashed out the WWII global gratitude bond grandpa gave us for our first communion and spent it on a flashy Baghdad trial for Saddam to show Dad who’s who, turned the US education system into a multiple choice exam, and basically had his Cabinet stand outside and empty aerosol hairspray cans into the environment for 8 years. You made a mistake. We are as sorry as you are. Take. The. Sticker. Off. (Or I’m going to have to pee on your car tonight.)

PS - Scary stuff. And that’s not mentioning people who inexplicably still play the air guitar, sniff their fingers, or, woefully, wear Tommy Hilfiger clothing. I’ll save all that for next year’s Fright Night Spooktackular. Oh, and “You're the Ocean” by Teitur is the opposite of uncool; now playing on iTunes.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Do It: Watch Kutiman Mashup

Legion are the false promises of the InterWebs. Remember how there would be no digital divide? How ads would be a thing of the past? How there would still be newspapers?

But few Nettified functionalities have been more of a woefully sputtering fizzle than the vaunted mash up. "Yo, dawg, I herd you like watching online content and contributing some user generated content. So, we put content in your content so that you can watch while you watch." But now a dude goin' by the handle of Kutiman ("Wait a second, son, "handle" in the post Y2K world? That's a 10-4 good buddy.) has Made. It. Happen.

Behold, the mother of all funk chords!

Ohhhh, the goodness. The cleverness. The sampl-i-ness of it all. Uncle iClipse is recommending it to those of you who have not already been bombarded by it on FaceBook or had it reTweeted to death.

Do it! Watch Kutiman.

PS - Funk is the bomb. Funkiness lurks all around us. Sometimes it is clear to me that jazz is secretly just a bunch of funky music nerds who are tired of how easy it is for them to be funk-i and making it harder for their own enjoyment by (a) doing it live and (b) only making the funk obvious to the insiders. Oh, and "Cantaloop" by US 3 is fu-hun-kee; now playing on iTunes.

Saturday, October 31, 2009

Phonetic Alphabet

A friend of mine challenged me to learn the Phonetic Alphabet. You know the one--it's what soldiers are busy saying in all the old war movies: "Roger Home Base, this is Echo One. Our location is Yankee Hotel Foxtrot. Awaiting instructions. Over." I was initially unconvinced of its value to a civilian in the 21st century except as an engagingly eccentric interest/ability; of which some would say that I perhaps already have an overflowing cupful.

Yet, I was recently doing that thing where some business has established a convenient voice recognition system to aide you in your inquiry, but, woefully, it only speaks a sub-dialect of Russian, so when it inquires, "What movie would you like to see?" and you respond, "Zombieland" it says, "You have selected 'Maid in Manhattan;' is this correct?" Except I was actually using United's phone booking system and the automated woman and I were facing some early relationship jitters as she consistently misheard my boarding code, which was something intuitive like XGFCHLMT. After the third failed attempt she says, "We appear to be having difficulty understanding each other." I reflexively brace myself for the "It's not you it's me" speech, but then she says, "Let's try something else. Say the name of something that begins with each letter. For example 'Alice' for 'A' or 'Bob' for 'B.' Please repeat your boarding code this way now." Too late I realize the utility of the Phonetic Alphabet, which would have gotten me quickly to my flight departure information and made me look impossibly cool at the same time. Instead, I made up wild silent letter and other fantastical associations for my own amusement--"X as in Xylophone, G as in Gila Monster, F as in Fenestrate." She was less than amused. I gave up on our burgeoning love (hey, a sense of humor matters) and pressed "O" for a live human being.

Don't get caught out this way. Immediately, as I now have, memorize the following alliterative alphabetic mantra:

ALPHA
BRAVO
CHARLIE
DELTA
ECHO
FOXTROT
GOLF
HOTEL
INDIA
JULIET
KILO
LIMA
MIKE
NOVEMBER
OSCAR
PAPA
QUEBEC
ROMEO
SIERRA
TANGO
UNIFORM
VICTOR
WHISKEY
X-RAY
YANKEE
ZULU

PS - Have you noticed that Joss Whedon is using the Phonetic Alphabet to name the "actives" in his underwhelming new tee-vee show, "Dollhouse"? Oh, and "I am Trying to Break Your Heart" by Wilco is Golf Oscar Oscar Delta; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, October 30, 2009

5-4-Fri: Horrifying Things

Tomorrow is Halloween, so this week you get a list of five woefully ghoulish, terrible, horrifying things:

1. Blue Jeans Shorts. There is never, repeat after me, never any excuse for wearing blue jeans shorts. Hemming them only adds several centuries in purgatory. One exception: short cutoffs on hot girls in the 1980s; if this does not apply to you gender-wise or temporally then don't even think about it.

2. Tramp Stamp. As Chris Rock noted, any girl working the pole is a living symbol of parental failure. Don't extend the discussion to include shaming your parents with a lower back billboard. What one might refer to as the buttal philtrum should be bare--not covered with a butterfly that will just metamorphose into a bat as you age.

3. Barbed Wire Tattoo. For guys with no sense of shame, there is the barbed wire tattoo around the biceps. Dudes, see supra. Don't do it. You don't look like a super hero. You don't look like a football player. You don't look cool. You look like a dork. You look like someone who doesn't realize that your tattoo will be an ironic Abu Ghraib-like fence around your arm waddle when you're 70. Also, ladies, if Pam can't pull this one off, neither can you.

4. Mullet. This hairstyle has been much ridiculed elsewhere, so I'll leave it at simply shivering with repulsion and warning you off it; but beware its modern iterations. WHAT are the producers of the otherwise charming "Castle" thinking by giving the easy-on-the-eyes Stana Katic a girl mullet this season?!

5. The White Hemp Choker with Sea Shell Accents. Ever meet some tool who has been to a surfing lesson once on Spring Break and now obsessively wears brown leather flip flops and board shorts topped by a white rope surf choker? Me, too. Sporting these brotastic necklaces is a fashion nightmare for the turtle-shell-ribbed belly-baring boy toys of Abercrombie & Fitch catalogs and it ain't gonna work any better for you. Please--and I am begging America here--please stop it.

PS - I am not a close follower of Billy Ray Cyrus' career, but I think it is possible that he has been a combo-platter offender on all fronts here. And he's busy plowing new ground. I stumbled across the Disney juggernaut "Hannah Montana" on cable television the other day and daymn if Billy didn't show up playing Miley's fake-life dad and sporting blond highlights, a soul patch, a spin art Bonnaroo tee, some kind of dominatrix-like leather watch band the width of a WWE trophy belt. Maybe I'll go as him for Halloween this year. Spooky! (Sorry, Bill, but you put it out there.) Oh, and "Misirlou" by Dick Dale and the Del Tones is scary good; now playing on iTunes.

Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Crisis of Credit

Annnnnnd, we're back. Thank you caller. We were talking about the messed up US economy and how such a thing happens and who is to blame. Well, as Pogo said, "We have met the enemy and he is us." Oh, and also the enemy is the sickening and woefully insatiable gluttony of Wall Street...Pogo forgot to mention that part.

To date, the best explanation of what the heck is going on with the Great Recession that I have seen is "Crisis of Credit Visualized"--an animated primer on how the American economy went belly up based on credit default swaps, collateralized debt obligations, sub-prime mortgages, credit crunches, and other highly jargonable phrases uttered on NPR that you might not have fully grasped when they first smooched your ear with their authoritative yet somehow incomprehensible syllabic combinations.

Enjoy. (For a while I had this thing parked on my Bookmarks toolbar; that's how good it is.)

PS - I am loving the idea that Greenspan seems to be saying, "Uh, about that whole self-regulation thing, I might, uh, have been wrong." Well, maybe the economy can rise like a phoenix from the ashes of boneheaded, unregulated greed. Oh, and "1901" by Phoenix is on fire; now playing on iTunes.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

My Twitter Resume

@ iclipse My Twitter Resume

RT @mom Congrats on graduating
RT @mom Now get a job
RT @dad RT @mom Now get a job
whois jobsforenglishmajors
RT @mom nudge iclipse
get pewhealthprofessionsprogram
RT @dukeu Welcome to the team
#pewtrusts Got a job baybee! But I am just a freelance Consultant, tho
RT @dukeu Want a full time gig?
#pewtrusts Hey, I got promoted to Communications Associate. Hello benefits!
leave pewhealthprofessionsprogram
get pewcharitabletrusts
RT @dukeu Best of luck in Philly
RT @pewtrusts Welcome to the team
#pewtrusts New job as Executive Asst at Pew HQ. Yea!
RT @pmahottie Whatchadoin? Look, peeps, I gotsa girl.
#pewtrusts Job sucks doode
RT @pmahottie Its not you its me. Aww man I got dumped
RT @pewtrusts Best of luck somewhere else. Anywhere else
#pewtrusts PCT fail! Heading to DC...
leave pewtrusts
get instituteforeducationalleadership
RT @iel Welcome to the team
#nhec Super fun new gig y'all; I am a Sr Program Associate
#nhec Can't believe its been 5 years
#nhec RT @iel Funding Fail. Woefully, I gotta get a new job
RT @grayciegrace Hey, we have a spot open at Nat Geo
leave instituteforeducationalleadership
get nationalgeographiceducationfoundation
RT @iel Best of luck at National Geographic
RT @natgeo Welcome to the team
#nattyg I am a Program Officer
#nattyg Hey Jane Goodall is in the elevator
#nattyg RT @natgeo Nice work-Enjoy the raise. Hey, I am Director of Strategic Programs now
#nattyg RT @natgeo Okay you have been verrry patient so heres a raise again. Woo hoo! I am full on Director of Grantmaking
RT @natgeo In lieu of a raise how about a title change?
Like what
RT @natgeo Like Associate Executive Director
Any hope on the cash?
RT @natgeo Shut it
#nattyg Hey, everboddie, I made Associate Executive Director

@iclipse References avail on request

PS - Wow, it's true, you can condense your life into 140 words or less! But I am still not gonna join Twitter; cannot say the word "tweet" with a straight face (or say the word "venti" at Starbucks -- enjoy giving me a "large" coffee or suck it). Oh, and "American Girl" by Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers is tight; now playing on iTunes.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

Do It: Check Out Blog Wild

My pal, Ford, is doing a new blog for National Geographic. A great way to keep up with the planet via readable, photo-heavy entries with irreverent titles.

My favorite so far: the headline "Canada Rules World" on an entry about a team of three teens who won the National Geographic World Championship (the international version of the Geography Bee). Woefully, the "brand" could never come up with something so ironic and funny and relaxed.

So, do it: check out Blog Wild.

PS - You can learn all sorts of stuff at National Geographic. One of my favorite recent ah-ha moments was discovering Africa's "desert blues." Oh, and "Ai du" by Vieux Farka Touré is wild; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, July 10, 2009

5-4-Fri: Online Cartoons

The Internet gives and gives. One of its high points is the plethora of comedy. Within that genre, I am enamored of the cartoon/animated funniness. Here are five sites worthy of your attention:

1. Doonsebury. Gary Trudeau is America's premier satirist, has a hot wife, and still produces this awesome comic strip about Mike Doonsebury and his pals, which is so on-point that newspapers cowtowed to threatened politicians and moved it to the editorial page. Check it out daily.

2. Homestar Runner. This fully online animated series takes real advantage of the Net to produce an original virtual world of nuttiness. My favorite part is how Homestar's friend Strong Bad is a Mexican wrestler with boxing gloves and surplus attitude who manages to answer your emails despite an obvious typing impediment. I have never laughed harder online. This series is so funny that I still watch the by-now endearingly retro site intro.

3. New Yorker Cartoon Bank. Your pal, iClipse has been a die-hard New Yorker reader since he was approximately 11 years old. Now-a-days, Robert Mankoff offers you access to the magazine's predigous archive of cartoons online; but the best--and most frustrating--offering is the Caption Contest. Each week, you are presented with a captionless cartoon and the chance to suggest a caption and win a signed, framed copy of the cartoon after the New Yorker publishes your winning entry in the magazine. No, I have never won, woefully. Yes, I feel robbed.

4. Odd Todd. One day a dude got laid off and started a site about it. Odd Todd has emerged as one of the InterWeb's most interesting and amusing homes for humor and grown organically as its founder has grown up. If you've never been, start here.

5. Dilbert. By now, a classic. Still, the more and more I work in an office, the funnier this strip gets. Congrats to Scott Adams for keeping the effort up and remaining relevant (I'm talking to you, Cathy).

PS - My brother has suggested a pretty funny (but technical) humor site to me, which I am enjoying as well. Check it out. Oh, and "Fou de Fa Fa" by "Flight of the Conchords" is funny, funny stuff; now playing on iTunes.

Funny Thing: Kids Today

Time for another "funny thing happened" anecdote. This one highlights the truly sublime nature of intergenerational change.

I have a colleague who was recently in an elevator with a 13-year-old girl and a few 7-8-year-olds. No, no, not like Michael Jackson; he was just in the elevator with them.

The younger kids were discussing their distressing lack of phone signal in the elevator and the 13-year-old turns to my colleague and says without irony "Wow, what's happening these days? When I was 7, I didn't even have a cell phone! Today's kids are just ridiculous. Right?"

PS - I am flabbergasted by the woeful lack of perspective that some kids have these days, although I am quite sure that I came off this way a bit when I was a kid -- "You had to have big ICE BLOCKS delivered to cool the refrigerator?!" Still, I didn't have a cell phone until I was 37, much less seven years old. Oh, and "Amsterdam" by Guster is download-worthy, kids; now playing on iTunes.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Recipe: Crab Cakes

My people, I have brought down from the Blog Mountain a new tablet for you entitled "Recipe." Brace yourself: this feature will feature recipes that I like. Surprising, non? This makes 6 recurring "columns" for the Bloguscript:

* What is Going On? (Administrative Q/A)
* Do It (Advice you really should take to make your life better)
* Excellent Quotes (The pop culture references that shape my world view and any conversation with me)
* Funny Thing (Hee-larious stories; all true)
* 5-4-Fri (Weekly lists of related items or defining characteristics of a main topic; published each Friday)
* Recipe (See supra)

And now (drum roll, please) the inaugural Recipe: Crab Cakes.

CRAB CAKES

1) Mix the following:

2 large eggs, well-beaten
1/2 C chopped celery (1 large stalk)
1 C crushed Saltine crackers
1 T Dijon mustard
1 t Old Bay seasoning
2 t Worcestershire sauce
2 T finely chopped parsley
1/2 C finely chopped scallions (12 scallions)
Fresh pepper, to taste

2) Fold in 1 lb fresh-picked crabmeat

3) Shape mixture into hamburger-like patties. Dredge in 1/2 C fresh bread crumbs if desired (I make them w/o the bread crumbs). Saute 2-3 minutes on each side in oil over Med/Hi heat. Serve immediately.

REMOULADE SAUCE

1) Mix together the following:

1 large egg yolk
1 1/2 T Dijon mustard
1/8 C white wine vinegar
1/2 T paprika

2) Add in:
1/2 C corn oil (whisk this in gradually; no kidding)

3) Add and blend in well:

1 T horseradish
1/2 t finely chopped garlic (1 clove)
1 T catsup

Let diners pour the remoulade on the crab cakes individually to taste at the table.

PS - My Mom cobbled this recipe together from Craig Claiborne's NYT article on the famous Baltimore crab house, Obrycki's, and data acquired from diligent trial and error. It makes THE BEST CRAB CAKE I have ever had. Anywhere. Ever. Woefully, most crab cakes you get out at restaurants are nasty. The secret: juuuust enough other stuff to hold the crab together. Oh, and "Help I'm Alive" by Metric is delicious; now playing on iTunes.

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Do It: Read Ross Thomas

I am by no means overcompensated, but I am fortunate enough to have enough spare change to need to develop a few ways to keep myself from amassing too much money in any one spot. This poses a bit of a quandary. I don't make enough money to pursue heli-skiing or to become a devote of traditional Nipponese archery. But, I make too much money to establish an enviable set of collectable plates from famous places or to get every Care Bear ever made.

Further: my ENT has strongly encouraged me not to take up with SCUBA gear; I find people who build elaborate train sets in their basement to be as scary as clowns or gun enthusiasts; and, woefully, I lack the truly OCD phenotype necessary to seriously collect comic books or really get into a paraphernalitic sport like fishing.

So, I need a few ways to occasionally bleed the pressure off my bank account without getting into a situation where I find that my hobby is acting as a burn-off flare on the oil rig of my net worth.

One of those ways is eating at South Austin Grill. One of those ways is traveling. But perhaps the most indulgent and unnecessary way is purchasing first editions of Ross Thomas novels.

Thomas wrote international thriller/crime stories, heavy on the political satire and character-creation and lite on the actual mystery. His claim to fame is creating Michael Padillo and “Mac” McCorkle, the bar-owning, booze-swilling, banana republic-hopping heroes of the D.C.-based subset of his oeuvre. Thomas' firsts go for about $50 but can run you more, depending on quality and desirability.

Here's a quote to entice you:

Booth Stallings shifted his gaze to the hurrying Japanese Imperial Marines, then to the dead American medic, and back to the Filipino guerrilla. It occurred to him that this was the second Filipino he had come to know well, the first having been Edmundo something or other from San Diego who, like a robin, had appeared each spring near Stallings' grade and junior high schools, dispatched by the Duncan Yo-Yo people to demonstrate their product. Edmundo could make a Yo-Yo do anything, and for three childhood springs Booth Stallings had taken a limited number of private lessons at an exorbitant fifty cents an hour until, turning thirteen, he had discovered masturbation, Lucky Strikes and girls in approximately that order. -- Thomas, Ross. Out on the Rim.New York (NY): Mysterious Press, 1987.

And, here's the cannon:

The Cold War Swap (1966)
Cast a Yellow Shadow (1967)
The Seersucker Whipsaw (1967)
Singapore Wink (1969)
The Fools in Town are on Our Side (1970)
The Backup Men (1971)
The Porkchoppers (1972)
If You Can't Be Good (1973)
The Money Harvest (1975)
Yellow Dog Contract (1976)
Chinaman's Chance (1978)
The Eighth Dwarf (1979)
The Mordida Man (1981)
Missionary Stew (1983)
Briarpatch (1984)
Out On The Rim (1987)
The Fourth Durango (1989)
Twilight at Mac's Place (1990)
Voodoo, Ltd (1992)
Ah, Treachery! (1994)

Do it: read a Ross Thomas crime thriller.

PS - I have all the books in bold. They sit on the bottom shelves of my vintage quarter-sawn oak, drop-leaf-secretary-topped, barrister bookshelf, which was purchased with this purpose expressly in mind. Oh, and "Fit But You Know It" by The Streets is worth adding to your collection; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, June 12, 2009

5-4-Fri: The Beach

There are many, many reasons to lurve the beach; here are five:

1. Hearts. The family obsession is playing the card game, Hearts. You need my brothers and another willing player. We only get to play at family events. This makes the annual beach trip--at which our entire generation gets together--ground zero for Hearts. The secret is in the passing of cards to other players. Play it.

2. Yahtzee. For the younger set -- the 3-10-year-olds -- there is the dice game, Yahtzee. Fantastic fun, especially when the occasional rain storm keeps you inside the house. Chance + strategy. Woo hoo.

3. Dinners. I suggest our family recipe for handling dinner at the beach. Each adult signs up to "own" one night's dinner. You shop, you cook, you serve, you clean up. Then, like magic, the rest of the trip you don't have to do nuthin'. Very, very cool strategy. I always make the same thing: crab cakes, rémoulade sauce, rice, salad, fronch bread, and some veggie, such as carrots or green beans. Yum.

4. Family Photo. There is nothing like the tension-filed process of arranging for the annual family photo. Does everyone look good? Are all the kids actually facing the camera? In which order should everyone sit? Will the piteous and woeful crying ever stop? But, there is nothing like having an annual family portrait, either. So, Uncle iClipse says, arrange for one.

5. Bodysurfing. This is what I would do all the time if I were stinking rich. I don't really understand the obsession with surfboarding when you can just lie down in a wave and scoot along. No paraphernalia necessary. Soooo much fun.

PS - Also, don't forget that there is the beach itself. Walk on it. Take a beverage out to it. Sit under a tent on it. Look at it. Fish in the surf. Etc., Etc. Oh, and "Take Me to the Riot" by Stars is good for listening to on the drive down to the beach; now playing on iTunes.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Do It: See "The Hangover"

Todd Phillips, who directed 2004's "Starsky and Hutch" has made a woefully sick, deranged, laugh-out-loud summer caper called "The Hangover." It is a classic "What Goes on in Vegas Stays in Vegas" bachelor party flick with a twist a la "Go" or "Pulp Fiction" or (you get the idea). I urge you -- now listen carefully -- to STOP whatever you are doing and go to see this film immediately.

Why, you ask? Oh, I'll tell you:

* Do you like Peter Sellers? If he were still alive, he'd have had something to do with this picture. There is a scene involving the trunk of a Mercedes that could easily have been dreamed up by Mel Brooks, Blake Edwards and Peter Sellers on a bender.

* Do you think that, in the service of comedy, a baby can be made to wear '70s style sunglasses and to do abominable things? Then this is your film.

* Do you like funny things to happen during the closing credits? Do you, really? What if a film were to be largely a set-up for the credits? How would you like that?

* Is it, in your opinion, awesomely meta in a film when a character scolds another for doing something inappropriate to abuse a baby's trust but first laughs JUST a little at the joke?

* Think about this: when a film shows the decrepitude of a bachelor-party-gone-wrong by using a close up establishing shot of a hotel room with an incongruous chicken and a toothless dentist it is off to a great start.

I am not a huge Judd Apatow fan; the boy should probably just come of of the closet and move to Amsterdam. This is not a Judd Apatow film. It gets back to the craziness of classic gone-wrong/social commentary filmmakers like Paul Brickman ("Risky Business"), Martin Scorsese (After Hours), or Christopher McQuarrie ("The Way of the Gun").

So, do it: see "The Hangover."

PS - No apologies for a film that makes your cheeks hurt from 100 minutes of laughing, grinning, snorting, or just smiling in disbelief. Oh, and "She Said, She Said" by the Black Keys deserves to be on a soundtrack; now playing on iTunes.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

What is Going On? (Sitemeter)

So, last time we checked in with Sitemeter, the blog had a vertical axis of 10. That's right, a maximum of 10 readers on any given day. "I'd like to thank the Academy, my agent, and, of course my loyal family who have...."

Well, I am here to tell you that on the 23rd of May, The Bloguscript sported 24 readers! The Bloguscenti know that the 5-4-Fri will actually appear on Saturday and so they tune in then.

Now, the readership has never before or again been that massive, but a blogger can hope.

PS - I credit Facebook for the boost. I have started relentlessly flogging new blog entries on FB and there's a sucker born every minute, so that accounts for it. Oh, and I plan to hype the songs mentioned in the past 5-4-Fri in the Post Script so that they'll show up in the music list on the right nav and the first is "L.E.S. Artistes" by Santigold; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, June 5, 2009

5-4-Fri: Songs

For your diversion and entertainment, this week the management presents five songs you may wish to enjoy:

1. "L.E.S. Artistes" by Santigold. She used to be known as Santogold until a few months ago when she force-fit her first name back into her moniker, but this song is pure gold no matter what she's called. Insanely infectious hook, driving punk "rap" that references Blondie and Gwen Sefani, and an articulation style (plus electronic clapping!) that echoes DEVO. Here's a sample of the lyrics:

I'm here for myself
Not to know you
I don't need no one else
Fit in so good the hope is that you cannot see me later
You don't know me
I am an introvert an excavator
I'm duckin' out for now
a face in dodgy elevators

2. "She Said, She Said" by the Black Keys. Okay, normally, I believe that anyone who covers the Beatles should be shot or otherwise punished by some kind of musical Sharia Law. But, this is an example of one group taking an iconic song and making it wholly their own. Plus, HOW did the Beatles write lyrics and licks that would make any modern alt-group proud:

I said "Even though you know what you know
I know that I'm ready to leave
'Cause you're making me feel like I've never been born."

3. "Take Me to the Riot" by Stars. I am thinking of playing Den Mother to a Tape Club in 2009 and this song would definitely be on my mix tape. Sounds to me like what would have happened if Steven Morrissey had been in a band with a female co-singer. Also, I am really am a sucker for that classic rock song structure that goes: start soft in the verse, get loud on the chorus, get soft again:

You despise me and I love you
It's not much but it's just enough to keep
Saturday nights in neon lights, Sunday in the cell
Pills enough to make me feel ill, cash enough to make me well
Take me, take me to the riot

4. "Fit But You Know It" by The Streets. Who knew the Brits could rap? I absolutely love the post-Ska sensitivity The Streets brings to this song and it is both freeing and charming that Michael Skinner is doing rap without trying to be inner-city Black, which cripples a lot of otherwise promising rap(ish) music. Proof of lyrical cleverness:

I didn't wanna' bowl over all geezer and rude
(Not rude like good, but just rude like uncouth)
You girls think you can just flirt and it comes to you;
Well let me tell you, you see, yes, yes, you ARE really rude
(And rude as in good), I knew this as you stood and queued,
But I just did NOT wanna give the satisfaction to you.

5. "Help, I'm Alive" by Metric. I heard this first on the always-awesome KEXP, Seattle's radio masterpiece, which provides the streaming goodness to us East-Coasters. Canada's Metric has a nice mix of good ole guitar-driven rock and synthesizer New Wave vibe. This song switches back and forth between both to good effect. In a weird way, I am reminded of Lucinda Williams' complaint that she remains standing after getting dumped. Check the lyrics:

I tremble
They’re gonna eat me alive
If I stumble
They’re gonna eat me alive
Can you hear my heart beating like a hammer, beating like a hammer
Help, I’m alive, my heart keeps beating like a hammer

PS - Thanks, again, to Steve Jobs and the boys at Apple for -- despite the complaints about iTunes -- getting me back into High School listening mode. Oh, and "Obstacle 1" by Interpol is a list-worthy song that sounds like David Bowie were still recording aggressive stuff in NYC instead of settling down to a life of Pop Icon with Iman; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, May 29, 2009

5-4-Fri: Five Guys

Do you have a Five Guys burger joint near you? Never fear; you soon will. This Alexandria, VA franchise began with simple stand-up service featuring just hamburgers, but has grown to provide stunning fries along with hot dogs and other scrumptious offerings. Still, even in the face of limited expansion of the menu and massive expansion of the brand, it is a back-to-basics kind of place that emphasizes the essentials. With 400 franchises in 25 states and growing from coast to coast, that attention to taste and fresh ingredients is making the Murrell family into millionaires despite a rising tide of public consciousness about healthy eating.

More power to them. As one of the massive, endlessly energetic fellows in the moving company said with reverential awe once he had helped to unload all of my stuff into my new apartment: "You live near a FIVE GUYS." Here are five reasons this Friday to love your fun local franchise:

1. The Burger. Hard to say enough about the burger. Made from a mix of lean and not-so-lean beef. Half a pound per patty. Think carefully before ordering a full burger -- it features two patties. I order the "little cheeseburger" and still stand proud.

2. The Fries. Okay, the french fries are so good that sometimes I just get them by themselves. They are made fresh from potatoes cut on site -- what our more pretentious restauranteurs would call "housemade" -- and cooked in fresh peanut oil. The potatoes sit in their bags in stacks out in the waiting area with you. A whiteboard sign announces where today's potatoes come from. No map (bad form) but still....

3. The Peanuts. While you wait at McDonald's (watch that possessive, people) you enjoy nothing except perhaps a sensory preview of how much fat is in your food; an olfactory heads-up that, while the timing of your first heart attack will perhaps come as a surprise, its eventual arrival is somewhat predictable. While you wait at Five Guys, you get to eat peanuts out of a massive box. As many as you like. As quickly as you like. You used to be able to shell them wantonly onto the floor; that is discouraged these days. If you have peanut allergies stay faaaar away. If not, rush to Five Guys right now.

4. The Yelling. Woefully loud. Screeching, really. Once your order is ready, the designated screamer hollers your order number (handily printed sequentially at the bottom of your receipt) into the general airspace of the restaurant. They do this even if they can clearly see you standing and waiting. They do this so rapidly and repetitively that your ears face a penetrating, deafening roar several times no matter how quickly you sprint to retrieve your food. They seem to enjoy this part best.

5. The Condiments. Hot sauce. Jalapenos. Bar-b-que sauce. Fried onions. Along with the traditional pickles, onions, mustard, and their brethren. You want it, they have it. I still have not yet settled on the perfect combo. Think about it. There a many, many variations you can try and -- when you have it right -- you get to savor the perfection.

Eat 'em while they're hot, people.

PS - The base player in my band tells a stunningly cute story about his five-year-old grandson who orders his burgers with childlike precision: "I want a hamburger patty. A bun. Catsup. No salad. And no rice." The boy considers lettuce to be salad and thinks chopped onions look like rice. That is the cuteness. Oh, and "Smooth Operator" by Sade is also coast-to-coast hepness; now playing on iTunes.

Monday, May 25, 2009

2009 Indy 500

Commuting into Your Nation's Capital this morning I heard something I never expected to hear on NPR. The reporter noted that, yesterday, the Brazilian super star and perennially popular Hélio Castroneves won his third Indy 500 after emerging from some serious financial issues that threatened to wreck his career -- he won by almost 2 seconds, by the way -- and that he was followed by a previous race winner, Brit driver Dan Wheldon, and third place finisher Duh-neeka Patrick.

Wow. You have got to be woefully, self-mockingly out of touch as a news reporter to not know how to say Dan-eh-kuh's name properly. Do some homework. Call a friend. Watch a Go Daddy ad (or don't, those ads are lame). But, seriously? She is in a rare class of famous athletes who simply get referred to by their first name: Lance, Tiger, Shaq, Danica.

Would anyone say, "Be like Mee-kay?" Inconceivable!

Sure, she is not the greatest star in the racing firmament -- most other one-namers (say, Kobe) absolutely dominate their game and play it at another level, like them or not. But, she is the first woman to win an open wheel race. She has placed 4th at Indy. And now 3rd. And she is smoking hot.

Learn how to say it, people. "A-B-D" or "Danica! Danica!," she has earned the right to hear her name pro-now-see-ed correctly.

PS - Maybe I care too much. But I have some good friends--and a fellow godparent--who hook me up with annual Indy tix and let me tell you: while the view is undeniably better on the tee-vee -- frankly, it takes me about 60 miles just to be able to individually distinguish the cars as they scream past our seats at the notorious 4th turn into the straight-away containing that ole yard of bricks -- the event is cool and the gang. Oh, and "Silent Shout" by The Knife is great driving music; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, May 22, 2009

5-4-Fri: Washington Post Hunt

Editor's note: The Washington Post "Hunt" is organized by Dave Barry (hilarious humorist), Tom Shroder (Post Managing Editor), and Gene Weingarten (dude who inexplicably hangs around with the other two guys). The Hunt is modeled on the wildly popular Miami Herald Hunt which has been run for more than two decades--also started by the trio. Contestants gather downtown and are posed 5 individual puzzles that take them from the main stage all across one of the city's neighborhoods; they then return to the main stage for a final challenge. All answers are in the form of numbers. Lunatic fringe smarties who answer all 6 quizzes correctly before anyone else win bragging rights and an annual prize. The 2009 running of the Post Hunt marked the second year of the event in DC.

DAVE: So, this year we decided to take our 19-year-old inner-city, clue-driven scavenger hunt and tailor it exclusively to frustrate iClipse.

TOM: Last year he was unaware of the inaugural version of the Washington Post Hunt in DC. This year he was invited to join a Hunt team by two friends -- primarily because Paula and Bella were both unavailable -- and became quite intrigued.

GENE: I am much funnier in person.

DAVE: We decided to play on his budding interest and excitement by humiliating and confusing him in public.

TOM: Seemed only fair.

GENE: Seriously, my columns don't show it, but I crack these guys up.

DAVE: We began by challenging iClipse and his teammates to the first of 5 puzzles and -- okay, this is really funny -- the trick was that the clue was unsolvable!

TOM: (Snort)

GENE: Hee hee.

DAVE: Okay, okay, heh-heh, okay, (TOM: Snort) stop it, stop it, haw, okay, it was actually unknowable, (GENE: heeheeheehee) and they totally failed to win as a result of, heh-heh, as a result of (TOM: Snort), because it, stop it, stop it, you're killing me, because, bwa ha ha ha ha ha!!!

TOM: Nonono, stop it, ha-ha, ha, hahahahahahaha...

Editor's note: Although the "Statues" puzzle was an insane and unfair challenge, replete with a classic spirit-of-the-game no-no (a wrong answer clearly appeared to be plausibly correct), the rest of the Hunt was a brain-tingling experience in awesomeness and is the topic of this Friday's list:

1. The Crowds. Some 10,000 (ish) folks turned up to play the Hunt. It is great to see so many people all tearing around their city having fun, fun, fun. The friendly competition atmosphere featured out-of-towners (some from Miami itself); family teams; humongous, obviously semi-pro teams with matching tee shirts; and dogs (small, emergency back-up dogs, even).

2. The Clock Puzzle. Okay, I bust Gene's chops for his woeful "humor" columns, but he does some smart reportage for the Post and he ghost wrote a 300 word "First Person Singular" column for the Post Magazine section that made absolutely no use of the letters "s," "i," or "x" -- you gotsa respect that! I was somewhat scared that Gene and I think alike because I was instantaneously struck by what the answer had to be.

3. Dave Barry Played Guitar. It wasn't a Rock Bottom Remainders concert, but I'd pay money to see Dave play the guitar. Heck, I went mostly to see Dave, period. He led the crowd in a power ballad version of "Old MacDonald." Good times.

4. The Company. I have no illusions about WHY I was chosen to participate in the 2009 Post Hunt. Had better, smarter, more reliable, girlier humans been available, I would have been left home asleep and clueless. But, I am a humble, humble monkey and grateful for the chance to enjoy the day with good friends pursuing the sublimely ridiculous. This is a reminder to get your friends together and have fun as often as possible. Good for the soul.

5. The Brain Hurtage. Not that "Angels & Demons" didn't get all up in the face of my grey matter; not that I don't enjoy trying to figure out why Dick Cheney is so intent on proving that Nancy Pelosi KNEW that his Administration was breaking the law and misleading the public; but it is refreshing to have your intellectual and creative butt kicked by three deviously evil geniuses. My brain hurt for 2 days. Kudos.

PS - During the online "Aftermath" chat, iClipse's close, personal friend Shannon asked a question, cleverly disguising herself as "Arlington, VA". Now she's all famous. Shannon: "We are considering the best type of teammate for 2010. We added a poetry-knowing, geography-knowing, jogger with a hollow leg. Good add. We had to balance him out with female-drive attention to detail and multi-tasking. We avoided too many alpha-dogs. We did not win...Any suggestions for building a team next year? Are shirts a factor? Follow up: Best place to drown sorrows/punish weak brain cells afterwards?" Hunt co-creator Gene Weingarten made up for a lot by responding: "It would help if Dave, Tom or I were on your team." Oh, and in addition to playing their lead guitarist's axe, I wonder if Dave knows "Take a Chance on Me" by ABBA?; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, May 15, 2009

5-4-Fri: Cyclysm Sundays

The Tour de Lance is clearly a gateway drug to cycling fandom. For the past several years, I have moved beyond obsessive watching of the Tour de France and have been enjoying the complete marriage of TiVo (yea!) and Versus--which began life as the less testosterony "Outdoor Life Network." Many weekends now, I find myself on the couch ("I am on the couch; what are YOU on?") watching some obscure-to-Americans cycling "Classic," like the Tour de Moins Vite sur Lourd. On a series called, "Cyclysm Sundays," Versus offers single-viewing coverage of a One-Day-Classics bike race, from the season-starting Milan-Sanremo to the recent Tour of Flanders. Their coverage gives you summaries of the day's previous action and then brings you into real-time racing to the finish line over the course of about 2.5 hours. Here are 5 incroyable things about these Classics:

1. Stijn Devolder. This Belgian rider just won the Ronde van Vlaanderen (Tour of Flanders) in a bold breakaway that was awe-inspiring. As American George Hincapie said, "Stijn was on another planet."

2. Bob Roll. The man strangles every single foreign word that comes his way, talks with his hands on TV, and is the Magic Johnson of cycling--in the sense that he is clearly the dude still most enjoying the sport after his retirement; not in the sense that he dominated his sport even for a second.

3. Traffic Furniture. The Europeans seem obsessed with putting concrete obstacles in the roadways for the sole purpose of trashing their competitive cyclists, who smash themselves and their machines apart on these low-lying but deadly traffic islands.

4. Crazed Fans. I have seen a lot of things that scare me on television--Republican operatives claiming to be impartial Fox news broadcasters, the Snuggie, anything with "Idol" or "Dancing" in the title--but let me tell you that I am utterly flabbergasted by cycling fans who look intent on colliding with their heroes during races. The fans regularly dash out onto the course, obscure the sight-line into hairpin turns, wave on and off the road like so much human surf and run like maniacs next to the bikers on hills steep enough to make a footrace with the leaders possible.

5. Distance & Speed. These dudes are inhuman. Classics require that the peloton cover as much as 185 miles in a single day and still have the juice to sprint for the finish. The insane combination of distance and speed no doubt accounts for the woeful epidemic of doping in the sport but it also creates a sense of awe in the viewer.

PS - I am going to head off for a bike ride myself now (for as much as 25 miles at speeds of up to 23 MPH!) oh, and "Hey Ladies" by The Beastie Boys is cyclastic; now on iTunes.

Sunday, May 10, 2009

Do It: See "Star Trek"

Quick note to all geeks: J J Abrams has done it again. His new "Star Trek" is very enjoyable. Honors the past, updates the "franchise" -- man, I wish the Hollywood people wouldn't woefully erode their own movie magic by talking about franchises and brands and platforms--and introduces some fresh new cast members. A few complaints, but they are mostly along the lines of "more Scotty!"

Do it: See Trek.

PS - I find myself already memorizing lines from the film having seen it only once. "I am and always will be your friend." "Bull@#$%." Oh, and "Transcendental Blues" by Steve Earle is out of this world; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, March 27, 2009

5-4-Fri: Game Night

My pals have a tradition of hosting "Game Night" parties. These are, alternately, fabulous times for all involved or, woefully, end up with your pal iClipse sitting blindfolded in someone's living room trying to guess a clue solely from the shape of a play-doh model while a funny-boy bares his ass in my face to the general amusement of the crowd (stoopid, stoopid Cranium games).

Anyhoo, here are some groovy games you might want to consider for YOUR very own Game Night party:

1. Scene It. You need a DVD player and some patience to play this crowd-pleaser (apparently, it was designed to accommodate 80-year-old players so the video clips run a tad long). The trick is that you answer video-based questions about music, or sports, or movies. I recommend NOT playing against my idiot-savant friends Steve and Lisa, who can guess the actor's photo from just two pixel's worth of a picture.

2. Apples to Apples. Touted by both my game-harbinger pals Geoff/Leah and that informed goofball, Anne, this game is flawless except for the annoying laughing apple icon. It combines idiosyncrasy, humor, speed play, and cards toward the end of hee-lar-i-ous group fun.

3. Balderdash. Okay, I once voted, in all seriousness, for Bruce's made-up definition of "fearsome tiger spirit." (I will never live that down.) Yet, I still play this awesome game of making up fake definitions for little-known words. You can use the kit, or not; you make the call.

4. Ca$h n Gun$. This game is AWESOME. Eff that sad video game Grand Theft Auto, this is the shiz.

5. Masterpiece. The classic childhood game brought back into my life thanks to Jeanie-weanie and EBay. You play a stereotypically '70s character (for example, Roxy "Big D" Warrenson) who is bidding on artwork in an international auction. This game was designed back in the day when people thought that characters needed bio statements. You remember; this sort of thing inspired Clue to become a film.

I am thinking seriously of hosting a high-stakes game night where everyone brings a game and the winners each take home the game they won.

PS - I just brought home "Stop Thief: Electronic Cops and Robbers" from my Mom's place. As kids, we were mesmerized by the awesome power of the computer chip to play against us. Ah, naivete. Oh, and "Almost Saturday Night" by John Fogerty is great for a Game Night mix tape; now playing on iTunes.

Monday, March 23, 2009

Excellent Quotes: Stripes

He's a recluse. He's a mystery. He hardly ever returns phone calls. No, no, not me, silly: Bill Murray. His work in "Stripes" was inspired. Particularly this classic quote from the side-splitting met-the-woefully-underprepared-men scene:

"Chicks dig me because I rarely wear underwear and, when I do, it's usually something unusual. But, now I know why I have always lost women to guys like you. I mean, it's not just the uniform. It's the stories that you tell; so much fun. And the imagination! Lee Harvey: you are a madman! When you stole that cow and your friends tried to make it with the cow; I want to party with you, cowboy. And the two of us together, forget it. I'm going to go out on a limb here. I'm going to volunteer my leadership to this platoon. An army without leaders is like a foot without a big toe. And Sargent Hulka isn't always going to be there to be that big toe for us. I think that we owe a big round of applause to our newest, bestest buddy and big toe: Sargent Hulka."

-- John Winger (Bill Murray). Ivan Reitman, "Stripes." Columbia Pictures, 1981.

PS -- We are all deeply indebted to Harold Ramis. Any you guys call me Francis and I'll kill ya. Lighten up, Francis. Oh, and "Do Wah Diddy" by Manfred Mann is Oxbergerlicious; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, March 20, 2009

5-4-Fri: You Might Not Be a Redneck

I was having a conversation with a pal of mine and she suggested that the world really needs a series of reasons why you might be relatively certain that you are not, in fact, a redneck. I like it!

1. If you've ever moved your coffee table around in preparation for a wine and brie party and knocked over a stack of more than 5 back issues of the New Yorker you might not be a redneck.

2. If your 401K lost more than the value of your parent's home last year you might not be a redneck.

3. If the time you actually saw Jeff Foxworthy do this routine it was at a political fundraiser for Lamar Alexander's Senate campaign rather than on the new Sam's Club flat screen TV at Vern's house you might not be a redneck.

4. If you've been on television more than five times describing how your Administration failed to respond to the tornado warnings, you might not be a redneck.

5. If you've ever married your cousin ... and then made her the First Lady of the United States you might not be a redneck.

PS - If you haven't cooked a meal for your family in the past month that didn't include balsamic vinaigrette, edamame, or come from a cookbook with a picture of Tuscany on the cover, you might not be a redneck. Seriously, when she was five, one of my honorary nieces once asked, "Mommy, can I have some more edamame?" Woefully true. Oh, and listening to "Because of Her Beauty" by Karl Denson is un-rednecky; now playing on iTunes.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Do It: Play "Exquisite Corpse"

Your pal iClipse had a "Game Night" party last weekend and among the games proffered was a no-fuss, no-muss engager called "Exquisite Corpse." Here are the rules; suitable for 4-8 players:

* Tear several sheets of 8.5 X 11 paper in half length-wise.
* Pass one piece of paper, along with a pen, to every player.
* Each player writes a few lines of text on the paper, then folds all but the last line backward--so that the next person clockwise of them can only see the last line.
* Now, each player passes along their sheet, receives a new sheet, and takes up the narrative where the last line left off.
* By turns, fold the paper backward leaving only the last line visible and pass along.
* Lather, rinse, repeat until the sheet is full; the last player for each sheet should write "The End" at the end.

Here's an example from one of our game sheets (each new player's entry is indicated by alternating type):

"We never knew that she had such an amazing hidden talent. When she moved here from Chattanooga, TN, she left us guessing why her hair was red now and who the hell that strange Tennessee man was. I mean, seriously, she really had us wondering whether she liked cake. Some days she did -- coconut pound cake with a rich, butter cream icing. Some days, though, the butter went rancid and she hated aurgula, but loved escarole! Her favorite vegetable, tomato paste. "You assface," she cooed into his ear, endearingly, as she slowly unbuttoned his flat-front chinos and peed onto the burning cornfield in an attempt to extinguish it. Unfortunately, it kept flaring and there was nothing the doctor could do. The end."

Good times. Funnier if (a) you were there for the prior, uproarious story about the guys who set the field behind their school on fire and, woefully, tried to put it out by peeing on it and (b) had consumed several drinks. But still.

Do it: play Exquisite Corps.

PS - I think I'll do a 5-4-Fri on Game Night. Oh, and "Ah, the name is Bootsy, baby" by Bootsy Collins is funky goodness; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, February 20, 2009

5-4-Fri: Music Videos

What is the Internet good for if not hooking you up with iconic online music videos? To that end, please to enjoy 5 videos that made it essential for your band to have one:

1. - Video Killed the Radio Star. The music video that started it all. Thank you The Buggles.

2. - Cradle of Love. The MTV classic by Billy Idol.

3. - She Drives Me Crazy. The English Beat begat the The Fine Young Cannibals. The Fine Young Cannibals begat this awesome video.

4. - Safety Dance. Men Without Hats launched the pretentious, nonsensical video genre with this seminal piece of crap. We enjoyed mocking it but we saw it about a million times.

5. - Money for Nothing. Remember when computer animation was in its infancy? Dire Straits did a fine, cutting edge job with a special guest appearance by Sting. Props for the gratuitous use of neon.

PS - Adam Ant. Miss Jackson. Her brother and Billie Jean. The playlist is infinite! Oh, and "Take Me On" by a-ha made for a rockin' video.; now playing on iTunes.

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Do It: Check Out Nat Geo Valentine's Day Videos

People, my Valentine's Day is looking to be pretty sucky. And, woefully, not in a good way; in the kind of a way that includes a heaping super-sized helping of no Valentine, to go. But you may not be so unlucky. You may have a loved one. You may be Chaucering it up out there.

In either case, heart yourself and check out the special Valentine's Play List ginned up by the nice folks on the National Geographic Music team.

Do it! You're welcome. Rye ruff roo.

PS - Remember that dog who used to say "Rye Ruff Roo" on that TV ad years ago? Heh. Oh, and "Ladies of the World" by Flight of the Conchords is couples-skate-a-licious; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, February 13, 2009

5-4-Fri: Classic Rivalries

Forget the Steelers versus the Cardinals. After all, the Cardinals aren't even really from Arizona so how hyped up could you get? Here are the definitive 5 rivalries:

1. UNC v. Duke - This classic battle fuels more animosity than the theft of Helen of Troy. Total score UNC 129 victories; Duke 97. 'Nuff said.

2. Jedis v. Sith - These monastic warriors feud across space over the proper use of The Force and generally kick ass. The never-so-called Light Side Jedis wail on the Dark Siders, who seem terminally hampered by their affected capes.

3. Jets v. Sharks - What can you say? When you're a Jet you hate Sharks more than Katie does. Watch West Side Story and walk tall, daddio.

4. David v. Goliath - The original rivalry! (Because, when you think about it, Cane v. Abel was really more of the original murder.) This "the bigger they are the harder they fall" cage match also inspired the beloved Lutheran TV show.

5. Less Filling v. Tastes Great - Admit it. Even Socks/Yankees takes a back seat to The. Contest. Of. All. Time.

PS - I was tempted to mention Macs v. PCs, but, woefully, the list makes demands, people. Oh, and "East Coast West Coast Killas" by Dr. Dre et al is rivalicious.

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Funny Thing: Metro Pain

I am starting a new category for blog postings of humorous stories. These entries will feature a sort of "funny thing happened to me" set of anecdotes. Since Valentine's Day is coming, I am reminded of something woefully and hideously horrible--yet hilarious--that happened not to me but to a friend of mine on the Metro.

I have this pal who was once a bit of a predator. He roared through college and his 30s with a harem of accomplished lookers. Even as a grey-haired middle-aged man he used his looks and atheleticism to hunt a few demos below himself on the age pyramid. He has settled down these days, but he was quite the ladykiller when I met him. In fact, he did not actually date anyone over 30 until, in his 50s, his then-girlfriend turned 30 on him. Eventually they broke up around Valentine's Day and, truth be told, he was devastated. For months he was blue. Poor fellow couldn't even summon the simple enthusiasm to hit on production assistants. Then, one day after time had applied its healing balm, he found himself, in a new suit and fresh off a flattering haircut, standing in a Metro car hanging from the center pole and feeling, for the first time in recent memory, pretty fit and perhaps ready to get back in the saddle. Scoping absently on his fellow passengers he spied a young beauty who caught his eye and gave him a big smile. Not to appear too eager, he averted his gaze, made a pretense of checking his watch, and counted to 10 before looking over again. She once more deliberately caught his eye and smiled broadly. "May/December be damned," he thought. "Quickly, man, say something smashingly clever." Too late. She took the initiative, scooting forward on her chair and giving him a beckoning finger. She smiled again. He leaned closer. Tension built. She spoke: "Sir, would you like to have my seat?"

PS - Hey, man, I've been living in a glass condo so I am throwing no stones. But, daymn, when he told me the story I fell out of my chair laughing. Plus, points for self-deprecation. Oh, and Johnny Clegg's "Scatterlings of Africa" is one of my favorite songs; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, February 6, 2009

5-4-Fri: Facebook Lists

The time-suck that is known as Facebook is endlessly seeking to keep you from doing anything else with your life by coming up with ever more applications, all cleverly centered around its core value proposition: you talking about you. The latest is making and posting a list of 25 things...wait for it...about you. Here are the first five of my list:

1. I worked with a colleague who was in Playboy.
2. I introduced a woman I was casually seeing to another woman I was casually seeing and they dated each other for 2 years.
3. My favorite band is R.E.M.
4. My favorite number is 2.
5. I have run 2 marathons.

PS - Because you have been a good boy/girl/transgendered/gay/lesbian/straight little reader, here are the other 20 entries in my list:

Elvis Presley and I have the same middle name.
I have a personal blog.
I own a recreation of Marcel Duchamp's Bicycle Wheel.
Two of my ex-girlfriends in a row dated the same guy immediately after they broke up with me.
I have met Alex Trebeck.
I have had 3 surgeries.
I collect first edition novels by Ross Thomas.
My Master's Thesis is on a play written by British dramatist, Tom Stoppard.
My high school cross-country team won the state title eight consecutive times.
My father taught at an historically black college.
I have lived in Chapel Hill, NC: Westchester, NY; Philadelphia, PA; and Fonteney-sous-Bois, France.
I kissed my first girl as a Sophmore in college.
I did not drink in college.
My blood type is the universal donor.
My favorite film is "Fifth Element."
I have seen every episode of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer."
I saw "Grease" six and a half times in the theater.
I have three cowlicks.
I have served on my parish counsel at church.
My first crush was on Olivia Newton John.

Oh, and, "Jai Ho" from the Slumdog Millionaire soundtrack by A.R Rahman is on my list of engaging songs; now playing on iTunes.

Monday, February 2, 2009

Do It: Watch Jason McElwin's Basketball Game

At Greece Athena High School in Rochester, NY, one day the profoundly autistic but highly-functioning team captain, Jason McElwain, was put in for the last several minutes of a Trojan's basket ball game. His coach thought he was just rewarding Jason for dedication to the team with a symbolic 2-point basket; what he got was a star performance. This joyful video has been making the rounds on Facebook, but you should take the time to see it on CBS News' own site

Watch the game. Do it!

PS - I have a friend with a kid who is, woefully, autistic and she lost it when she saw this video. It really is a pretty heart-warming, inspiring watch. Oh, and "Dare You to Move" by Switchfoot is inspiring, too; now playing on iTunes.

Saturday, January 24, 2009

Excellent Quotes: Beowulf

Perhaps the most famous start to any poem ever occurs in the Danish epic elegy to the Scandinavian hero, Beowulf. Well, maybe "There once was a man from Nantucket" is a better known opening but that ditty doesn't feature Grendel:

"Hwaet we Gar-Dena in gear-dagum
peod-cyninga prym gefrunon
hu oa aepelingas ellen fremedon."

-Heaney, Seamus. Beowulf. New York (NY): W.W. Norton & Co., 2000. P. 2-3.

I know, I know; it makes about as much sense as the opening verse of Lewis Carroll's Jabberwocky. But it actually rocks! Below is the English translation from Seamus Heaney with the first two words modified by your pal iClipse:

"Listen up! The Spear-Danes in days gone by
and the kings who ruled them had courage and greatness.
We have heard of those princes' heroic campaigns."

PS - Heaney himself has created some pretty awesome poetry. Witness this quote from his "The Cure at Troy," which used to open each edition of the woefully shuttered and sorely-missed magazine, DoubleTake: "History says, Don't hope on this side of the grave. But then, once in a lifetime the longed-for tidal wave of justice can rise up, and hope and history rhyme." Oh, and U2 did a nice job with that on "Peace on Earth"; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, January 23, 2009

5-4-Fri: Numb3rs

No, this is not a Five for Friday posting about the TV show "Numb3rs," although my Father liked to watch it. Nope, this is simply your end-of-the-week booster shot of cool numbers:

1. Pi. Doode! The ratio of a circle's area to the square of its radius. It never ends or repeats. Doode! J.J. Abrams WISHES he had invented it. 3.14159 -- that is as far as I can reliably sequence it. Committing anything more to memory seemed a moot exercise.

2. Prime Numbers. These are the numbers (natural numbers, naturally) that can only be divided by the number 1 and themselves. Cool trick, non? I have an unnatural love of prime numbers. I think I share this affinity with my close, personal friend J.J. Abrams. In his new series, "Fringe," the lovable mad scientist, Walter locks his car up in a garage to which the lock combination is 314159, which itself is a prime...and a reversible prime--951413--to boot.

3. Fibonacci Numbers. I'll let Wikipedia explain these numbers for me: "The first number of the sequence is 0, the second number is 1, and each subsequent number is equal to the sum of the previous two numbers of the sequence itself, yielding the sequence 0, 1, 1, 2, 3, 5, 8, etc." Want to see why these numbers are so great? Look at a sunflower.

4. 8 15 16 23 42. These are the numbers from "Lost." Get it? Heh heh. I crack myself up. "Lost" is currently, (a) blowing my mind, (b) chewing up all my free time, (c) making me wish I were trapped on an island with Evangeline Lilly, (d) all of the above. Note that the sum of the numbers equals 108 and the Losters have to enter them into a computer terminal every 108 minutes. No moss growing on ole J.J. Abrams. I don't know anything more yet; don't tell me.

5. 44. Think about it. Think about it. This is the numerical moniker of our current President. Thank the Lord we are done with that lack-luster predecessor. I enjoyed the Inaugural. Thanks, Emmett!

PS - Although--ironically, as it turns out given my dating life--my favorite number is two, one of my favorite numbers is 25; it is the number made by putting my favorite number next to the favorite number of one of my favorite people. I think about it pretty often, actually. Oh, and Aimee Mann has a handle on numbers in "One."

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

9 Rows from Oprah

So, I have survived the Inaugural--so far. Highights:

6 a.m.- Began a truly unnerving 2.5 hour Metro ride that ended up at the Capitol South stop.

8 a.m.- Stood on the train platform for the 20 minute shuffle up the stairs. The nice Metro lady kept yelling "Keep it moving! Keep it moving!" and the crowd kept yelling back, "Yes we can!" Then when she wanted us to stop moving forward so we didn't crush everyone alive she'd yell "Red light! Stop light!" But no one yelled "Neon light" when I did.

9 a.m.- I began to feel that I would die on the spot of cold. The minutes ran backward as they did for Ferris Bueller. Then the sun came out and it climbed to 30 degrees for a while. Bliss. We were in an amazing section called "Green Tickets." Oh, the goodness.

10:30 a.m.- The great cavalcade of celebrities begins. Oprah. Stedman. Sam Jackson. Jesse Jackson. Denzel. Caroline Kennedy. Some dude everyone wanted to be photographed with but who was unrecognizable to me. Jamie Lee Curtis. Don King. Diana Ross. Angela Basset. And a host of others. And the best ever: Curtis said to me, "Hey, Usher just jumped up on my chair."

11 a.m.- The great exchange of power began. It was surreal to watch it so up-close. Yea!

1:55 p.m. - We fund a taxi after just four blocks of hoofing it! Karma. Hung out over the afternoon with the pals who hooked me up with tix.

PS - Time TBD, I will re-brave the Metro and hope to get home. Oh, and "Superstition" by Stevie Wonder is stupendous.

Monday, January 19, 2009

The Inaugural

Kind friends hooked me up with a suh-weet seat at tomorrow's Inaugural ceremonies. I am not looking forward to my 6 a.m. Metro ride but I am pumped about the chance to wave four fingers on each hand at anyone who so much as looks in my direction.

I called my Sister-in-Law to talk about it and she told me that one of my nephews had asked that on Tuesday they eat carrots in honor of the new President. When asked why the carrots, he replied, "I like carrots and I want Mr. Obama to be like me."

Don't we all? The poor man is going to have so many of us wanting him to do what we'd try to do: save the economy, bring back our national self-respect, foster global peace, knit bridges between the elderly and the young so we don't fight over Medicare versus education, and generally not be that woefully idiotic George Bush. We are all so optimistic about the new Administration.

So, put down the smokes and pick up the carrots, Mr. President. We are going to need you for a long time. And we are going to need you to be the kind of a man who makes my nephew say, "I want to be like him" when he grows up.

PS - Now, I love the man but has anyone else noticed that he looks a bit like one of the Easter Island moai? Could be a good thing to have an icon in the Oval Office. Oh, and "Sequestered in Memphis" by The Hold Steady is worth a listen; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, January 16, 2009

5-4-Fri: Bumper Stickers

Time for a stripped-down, re-bored, tightly suspended Friday list: this time on awesome bumper stickers.

1. Isis, Isis, Ra! Ra! Ra! I laughed so hard when I saw the gods of Egypt featured in this cheerleading gem that I nearly drove off the road. Still my favorite ever.

2. My President is Charlton Heston. The right-wing nut-job classic rear-bumper answer to the election of Bubba Clinton.

3. Jesus Would Slap the S#*t Out of You. A pal of mine just saw this on a recent drive and we fell out of our chairs laughing about it. Hey, pious Christian types: you better PRAY Jesus doesn't come back while you're still here.

4. Unattended Children Will Be Given Espresso and a Free Kitten. Some say that deliberately kitchy throw-back art and clever sayings have run their course. Still, this one caught me off guard.

5. Obama/Biden 2008. It's on my car. Just below my Tarheel window sticker. Uh oh. Woefully, more than one decal. That way lies madness.

PS - Have you noticed that people who have bumper stickers cannot stop at just one? There are really just two camps--people without them and people with three or more cats and a book on starting your own coven. Oh, and "Touched" by Vast is uh-mazing; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, January 9, 2009

5-4-Fri: TV on DVD

One of the great joys of the modern era is Uncle TiVo. But, eeeeeven better is skipping tee vee entirely and just watching shows on DVD. With whole seasons available as boxed sets on a tight turn-around and services like Netflix dishing them up for a reasonable monthly fee, you can enjoy great television the way it was meant to be enjoyed: as a bunch of teeny movies. Below, some of my favorite shows, consumed entirely on DVD. As a special bonus, this 5-4-Fri is brought to you link-free.

1. Buffy, the Vampire Slayer. I was once That Guy. I mocked "Buffy" and its fans. I figured the series was fueled by an unholy nexus of middle-aged men who secretly thought Sarah Michelle Gellar was hot and female teens who didn't get their fill of grrl power out of cranking "Jagged Little Pill" on their bedroom CD clock radios. Then an old friend sat me down and made me watch the silent episode. My bad! I was wrong. So wrong. Buffy is for angry girls and nebbishy men who also like awesome writing.

2. Lost. Chant it with me: "J.J.!, J.J.!, J.J.!" Holy cow, this series rocks! Want to scare the crap out of people? Just stare at them with your eyes shut and then open up one eye and make your pupil constrict eerily. Next, appear to them as a ghost mumbling about The Island. This is better than mainlining "24." What a great Christmas gift.

3. Firefly. More Joss Whedon. This uneven premise was excellently executed but still died a famous, one-season death only to be reborn as a Big Damn Movie. I miss Wash. And Kaylee. And Jayne. Sigh. Get it.

4. Angel. In 1999, David Boreanaz made the jump from "Buffy" to his own eminently watchable series. Admittedly, sometimes it got to be "watch David get fat" but most of the time it was "watch Merl get punched in the face." Yea!

5. Bones. More David. But this time with hottie Emily Deschanel as his partner in forensic sleuthing. Great modern-day sex comedy with two actors who have a real on-screen connection and a talented supporting cast.

PS - There was no room to mention the best father-daughter duo since Nancy and Carson Drew, "Veronica Mars." Oh, and "These are Days" by 10,000 Maniacs is some kind of adjective that means iconic+catchy+hummable; now playing on iTunes.

Friday, January 2, 2009

5-4-Fri: '80s Movies

Time for a quick recap of films I remember fondly from the '80s. Inexplicably, I am only going to list five of them:

1. Gregory's Girl - I had a crush on a girl who made the cross-country team. This film explained it all.

2. Pauline a la Plage - Young girl intimidated by more worldly cousin learns about love during a summer beach trip. No relation to Seinfield's infamous "Rochelle, Rochelle: A Young Girl's Strange Erotic Journey from Milan to Minsk."

3. Pretty in Pink - This needs no explanation. What does need explaining is how Duckie could sink to the level of "Three and a Half Men."

4. Chariots of Fire - Vangelis-fueled goodness about the 1924 Olympic trials of British runners Harold Abrahams and Eric Liddell. Good Blake reference, too.

5. Man Facing Southeast - The only thing wrong with this little-seen and excellent Spanish-language film is that it could conceivably have inspired the execrable Kevin Spacey vehicle, "K-PAX."

PS - There are so many more great '80s films. Such as "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" and the much-cited-by-iClipse "The Sure Thing." No time to list them all. Just start Netflixing John Hughes films as fast as you can. Oh, and "Right Here, Right Now" by Jesus Jones is woefully not from the '80s (recorded in the spring of 1990), but it rules; now playing on iTunes. (No matter how good "Right Here, Right Now" is, do NOT buy their album Doubt! Not that I did--lies, all lies--I just, uh, heard that it would be a very bad idea to do so on the basis of one good single.)