( 1:32 PM )
Fighting crime, seniors style
Unedited column from the September 26 issue of the Current...
There’s been a lot of talk about D.C.’s use of surveillance cameras to deter crime around the city. Apparently, in most cases cameras aren’t terribly effective at preventing serious crimes. Banks and convenient stores have had cameras for decades, yet it seems like somebody’s knocking over a Chevy Chase Bank or 7-11 every night in this area.
The hope is that cameras will not only deter criminals but can be used to identify and prosecute them when they’re misdeeds are recorded. Cities like Baltimore have tried this approach and had little luck reducing violent crime. Anyone who watches “The Wire” knows Baltimore is the scariest place on the East Coast.
But according to an article in The Washington Times last month, Baltimore’s cameras were helpful in reducing what are called “quality-of-life” crimes. While violent crime may have been the impetus for the installation of the cameras in D.C., surely they can be used to reduce those lesser transgressions that frustrate the average city-dweller on a regular basis, like you jerks who don’t clean up after your dog.
Certainly District police have better things to do than monitor security cameras around the clock for such seemingly trivial infractions. So what’s the solution? Senior citizens. That’s right, the Geezer Squad. Old people love to police their neighborhoods and enforce rules. That’s why so many of them move to gated communities with 37 different bylaws governing lawn appearance.
So let’s hire a crack squad of elderly people to monitor the surveillance cameras 24 hours a day. You can probably get away with paying them next to nothing. The police department will only have to provide four things:
-An official-looking police hat and windbreaker. Old folks love free stuff.
-Lots of fresh coffee to keep them awake. Of course, they’ll have to work in two-person teams because they’ll be spending half of their time in the bathroom.
-Encase all monitors and equipment in glass. Otherwise they’re liable to spend two hours trying to crank up the volume or figuring out how to change the channel to Matlock.
-And finally, big screens. REALLY big screens.
Of course, the Geezer Squad can keep an eye out for the obvious felonies while they’re watching for quality-of-life crimes. But mostly they’re going to be cracking down on the small stuff. Nevertheless, I recommend giving them a headset and an open link to the main police dispatch board. Here are some potential calls that would improve any neighborhood…
-Golden Girl 33 to Mission Control. At the corner of Connecticut and R, we have a young man, white, mid-thirties, walking a large Rottweiler. The dog just dropped a load in front of the Scientology building and owner did not scoop. Repeat, owner did NOT scoop. He’s headed north on 20th. Request officers, animal control and hazardous waste team immediately.
-Mission Control, this is Geezer Squad Alpha, monitoring camera 13A. Corner of 17th and U Streets, we’ve got a Flyer-Dropper, mid-20s Oriental…what’s that? I’m sorry, Asian male, putting what appear to be restaurant menus on car windshields. He’s peppering the entire street. Squad 43-Niner picked him up on their camera a half hour ago. Send a squad car over—wow, that’s a nice Cadillac—send a squad car immediately.
-Geezer Squad Delta to Mission Control. Come in, Mission Control. This is Rudy. Is this thing working? Hello? Yes, this is Rudy McCarthy. I’m watching this here camera on the corner of…let’s see…the corner of 18th and J Streets. No, wait, 18th and T Street…Yep, that’s it. Anyway, this is Rudy, and there’s this feller, a real grimy looking guy, and he’s stuffing a big plastic bag of trash into one of the public trash cans. Now I know he’s one of those cheapskates that don’t want to pay for garbage pickup so he’s just using the city’s cans like they’re his own. Now can’t we get someone out there to straighten him out? Hello? I’m not sure if this is working right. This is Rudy!
-Mission Control, this is Silver Fox. We’ve got a wayward parker in Sector 7G. Someone driving a late-model rice…Japanese car is wreaking havoc on the 2400 block of Wisconsin Avenue. He’s already knocked the bumper off one car and is dinging the tar out of another one right now. Oh my God, it’s a Crown Vic! Stop! Stop! You’ll never fit in that space! Request immediate backup!
-Mission Control, this is Rudy. We’re gonna need more coffee over here.
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1 comments
( 11:52 AM )
The recent SI article on A-Rod's problems in the Yankee clubhouse doesn't make sense to me. Here's a guy who has typically been aloof his whole career in terms of his on-the-field demeanor. When he strikes out or grounds into a double play, his anger is visible, but it looks artificial. I think he's tried to mimic Jeter's enthusiasm by appropriating his fist-pump and Paul O'Neill's intensity by showing anger. Apparently, he hasn't shown quite enough anger, according to Joe Torre. Torre has long been a master at getting the best from his players by leaving them alone. Only when absolutely necessary does he push.
So why would he confront A-Rod about showing more passion when it seems to run against his very nature? Surely that won't help him relax at the plate or in the field. He's all too aware of the 55,000 sets of eyes on him during every game at the Stadium. Why make him even more self-conscious?
I really question if Verducci got this story right. I just find it impossible to believe that this is what Torre would tell A-Rod.
While reading The Boys of Summer, Roger Kahn's classic about the Brooklyn Dodgers of the early '50s, a passage about Duke Snider struck me as reminiscent of A-Rod's struggles this year...
"While trying to become a man, Snider suffered periodic sulks…His model swing was useless when he lunged at a bad pitch. In a hurt boyish way, he saw forecasts of his golden future as pressure. Why can’t I be ordinary? he said. When his hitting wavered, he brooded and fielded sloppily. Portnoy’s hero was an only child. A confrontation with [Manager Charlie] Dressen was inevitable and fierce."
[Dressen benched Snider]
"Three days later Snider was back and for the rest of the season he played brilliantly. Dressen’ s impersonal brutality worked. I don’t know what was more disturbing, that or the way Snider, while hitting at a .400 pace, continued to discard his bat jubilantly when walked, joyous, as [Bill] Roeder had observed, not to have to face another challenge."
Maybe Torre should have just benched A-Rod. I think Alex would rather walk in most cases than risk a strikeout or weak ground out. When pitchers get ahead of him early in the count, he starts guessing and flailing. But when he gets ahead, he relaxes a lot more.
Over the three year period from 2003-05, A-Rod's average after getting behind 0-1 in the count was .271/.336 (2nd number is OBP). When getting ahead 1-0, it was .319/.471.
This year, when getting behind 0-1, he's batting .229/.286. When going ahead 1-0, his averages jump to .300/.467.
He's still a good hitter after a 1-0 count, though his average is down a bit. But where previously he was still effective after falling behind 0-1, this year he is flat out lousy. Pitchers know this, and they're trying to get ahead. They always have to be weary of him cutting loose on a first ball fastball, but if they can sneak that first one by him, they can usually get him to chase a curve on the next pitch or swing through a slider.
The fact that A-Rod is missing so many fastballs this year would seem to indicate a problem with his swing. The SI article points out that Don Mattingly has tried to work with him, but A-Rod has been resistant. One teammate even thinks he should get his eyes checked.
Whatever the source of the problem, he's got October to get it fixed. The Yankees are in great position to reach the World Series this year. If they don't and A-Rod struggles at all, the offseason is going to bring harsh questions about his position on this team. And even if they make the World Series, they have to win it. A loss to the Mets would be apoplectic, and a loss to any of the other middling NL playoff contenders would be just as bad.
A-Rod needs a ring, and he needs a strong post-season performance. Otherwise, Brian Cashman might have to start putting out feelers to see if any teams might actually be interested in trading for A-Rod. How quietly do you think he could pull that off?
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0 comments
( 10:18 AM )
Offers that Regis Philbin turned down last year
Cameo in a snuff film.
Host of the Second Annual Cancer Joke-a-Thon: 24 Hours of Cancer Jokes by America’s Wildest Young Comedians.
Opening act for Seals and Croft.
Have his head severed and cryogenically frozen while his body is harvested for viable organs.
Grand Marshall of the American Nazi Party’s Parade of Jew-Haters and Classic Cars.
Mow my lawn for ten dollars.
Guest spot on “According to Jim.”
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2 comments
( 12:24 AM )
Just finished reading “The Plot Against America” by Philip Roth. I have to admit, it probably wasn’t fair to read this right after Don DeLillo’s “Underworld.” DeLillo’s prose is unparalleled, and how he could sustain it for 800 pages is phenomenal. Sure it jumped around too much, shifting perspectives, focusing on too many characters, introducing new ones just when you wanted to get back to the main character, messing with timelines and generally working back in time, a confusing technique which ultimately was a bit unsatisfying. The massive scope of the book interferes with the plot, and in the end you wonder if this might just be the rantings of an old man confused by the internet. But even if they are, they are the most beautifully written rants you’ll ever find. And there is so much rich detail, so many wonderful scenes throughout the book (the Prologue, which I have read about 5 times, is one of the greatest pieces of writing about baseball I've ever read--can stand on its own), it has to be considered a masterpiece, even if ultimately he probably didn’t quite pull it off as The Great American Novel. But it was a damn good shot and definitely worth the investment.
Back to Roth. Roth is apparently one of the great American novelists of the last half century (that's what they say--what do I know?). But I was so blown away by DeLillo, Roth seemed quaint. I had to read two-thirds of the book before I got over my DeLillo envy and began to appreciate the brilliance of Roth’s writing. And plot? This book had plot to burn.
The post-9/11 parallels in Roth’s book are powerful and unavoidable. And they work, but not in the obvious way you might expect. The real power in this book is the personal connection Roth creates through embedding his own childhood into the story, and therefore into an important, though heavily fictionalized, time in history. The beauty of “Plot” is in the individual characters, not the broad sweeping generalizations about curtailment of civil liberties in a time of conflict (although that works just fine, too).
Take for instance Alvin, the wounded veteran who fled to Canada to fight the Nazis when the U.S. refused to enter the war. His transformation from a conscientious and principled fighter to a bitter amputee to high-rolling hoodlum raises questions about the fate of the wounded coming home daily from Iraq. I live 15 minutes from Walter Reed Army Hospital, where so many rooms are filled with the wounded from Iraq. What’s going to happen to these people? What will their future hold? It’s one thing to ask them about their feelings on the war now. I’ll be equally as interested what they think about it 10, 15, 25 years from now when they look in the mirror and see the lasting affects of shrapnel carved into their bodies like disfiguring tattoos from the longest night of their lives.
“Plot” is eye-opening historical fiction, even without considering its modern parallels. Throw in the current state of affairs, and it’s worthy of the glowing reviews heaped upon it. I’ll have to read American Pastoral soon.
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0 comments
( 10:28 PM )
5/31/05
Not that deep
Our long national nightmare is over. We finally know the true identity of Deep Throat. Unfortunately, I had Richard Dawson in the office pool. I still think he had something to do with it. Just watch those old episodes of “Family Feud” and tell me he didn’t look like a man who could topple a president.
How did the Washington Post blow this one? They had three of the only four people in the world who knew who Deep Throat was, and they still got scooped by Vanity Fair. How embarrassing! Woodward and Bernstein must be fuming. That’s like the Weather Channel solving the Kennedy assassination.
This just in: Time Magazine is reporting that Tom Shales hated “Night Court.”
My favorite part of this story is the backslapping among journalists and experts: “Of course we knew Mark Felt was Deep Throat. It’s been widely assumed for years that he was the guy.” Really? Let’s go down the list folks about the whom the media has speculated: Diane Sawyer, Pat Buchanan, Alexander Haig, William Rehnquist, Ben Stein (Bueller?), George Bush (Big George), Hal Holbrooke, Linda Lovelace, and the guy who played Fredo in “The Godfather.”
Journalism students at the University of Illinois spent four years investigating Deep Throat and determined it was Fred Fielding. I don’t know who that is, but I think in addition to being a member of Congress, he played Gopher on “Love Boat.”
Woodward and Bernstein are keeping their mouths shut right now about DT’s true identity. That’s more than Bernstein’s son could do. Apparently he let the cat out of the bag to a friend years ago. Damn those teenagers!
Son: “I’m going down to Mickey’s house, Dad.”
Dad: “Alright, son. Just be careful. Don’t stay out too late, no drinking and driving, and don’t give up Daddy’s confidential sources to your friends.”
Son: “Aw geez, Dad. You’re every bit the jerk that Mom portrayed you as in ‘Heartburn.’
Now that Deep Throat’s identity has been revealed, Washingtonians can focus on other unsolved mysteries…
-How did a gay escort get into the White House press corps?
-Why is it so hard to find really good pizza in the District?
-Why is Brad Wilkerson hitting leadoff for the Nats? He strikes out too much and has middle-of-the-lineup power. Why?!?!
-Is there an elevator anywhere within the Metro system that doesn’t smell like a urinal?
-Why didn’t Tom Shales like “Night Court?”
-Why are parking enforcement officers so damn friendly and generous?
-Whatever happened to Compliment Man? (Dupont Circle regulars, you know who I’m talking about.)
-Why would anyone ever water-ski on the Potomac? I've seen people try this. It's disgusting
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0 comments
( 1:45 AM )
Orange Bowl Roundup or Things I hated about the Orange Bowl
1. Blowout. As someone who doesn’t watch a ton of college football and has no real rooting interests, I was hoping for a close game. My hopes were dashed after the 1st quarter.
2. John Saunders. Before the game, Saunders basically guaranteed that this would be a close game. What a fool. Of course most people expected a close game. But don’t be stupid enough to talk about it like it’s a foregone conclusion. You can never predict what happens in these games because the teams don’t play each other during the season. That’s sort of the whole point of these bowl games, isn’t it?
3. ABC’s increasingly obnoxious overproduction of football telecasts. This is getting out of control, with the graphics, and the rock ‘n’ roll and the kicking and the biting and the screaming. I know I sound like an old man, but they need to tone this shit down. Just because you can design a graphic that features an animated Reggie Bush snapping a leg in half at the ankle doesn’t mean you have to show it, which is precisely what they did in the 2nd half. It was supposed to represent his ability to fake out defenders, thus breaking their ankles. It looked like something you’d see on the Simpsons. Great Tivo moment.
The fact that college football has its own championship game has become an excuse for ABC to turn it into the Super Bowl, complete with the obligatory ridiculous halftime show (more on that later). Everything has got to be over the top. Early in the game they put up a graphic comparing the stats of the two QBs. In the background, viewers were blinded by roving spotlights, confetti, and bright flashes of light meant to simulate either fireworks, lightning, flash bulbs, a strobe light, or a bad reaction to laser eye surgery. I couldn't read the graphic and had to avert my eyes for fear of seizure.
The other annoying trend ABC has developed this year is another in the network’s continuing attempt to act cool in order to appeal to the kids. Right before the beginning of the 2nd half, they play a video by some “cool” rock group (usually U2, Tom Petty or some other band that is too middle of the road to attract anybody that ain’t already watching). They also intersperse highlights from the 1st half into the video. It’s awful. This is along the lines of ESPN’s “The Ultimate Highlight” which they run on every Sunday night Sportscenter in lieu of what used to be the "Plays of the Week."
Can we please keep sports and music separate? Kids who are heavily into music are probably not that into sports, and vice versa. You’re just annoying the rest of us. I love music, and I love sports, but I really prefer only one at a time. Unless Marv Albert is doing his wild and wacky schtick on Letterman with his blooper reel and that goofy 1920s sounding music. That’s gold!
4. The Halftime Show. Even if everything goes swimmingly, the halftime show is a train wreck. This particular one was a disaster from the start. The sound was completely screwed up. Kelly Clarkson’s mic was off for the first several lines she sang. And when they finally turned it on, she obviously couldn’t hear herself. Perhaps this was all a ruse to show that she was actually singing.
Which brings us to Ashlee Simpson. She was clearly singing, and perhaps she couldn’t hear herself either. She sounded awful, singing slightly out of time and off key with the backing vocal track that was piped in. The crowd booed appropriately after her performance. Actually, I’m becoming a bigger fan of the halftime show. It’s getting to be must see TV. You know it’s going to be so awful that you can’t turn away.
[My favorite halftime show debacle took place in Pittsburgh’s Heinz Field a few years ago. The Steelers were playing the Browns in a playoff game and were heavy favorites going into the game (if I remember correctly). But Cleveland smacked the Steelers around in the first half and had a big lead at halftime. The Pittsburgh crowd was feeling pretty cranky when Sheryl Crow was announced as the halftime entertainment.
“How’s everybody feeling on this sunny day?!?!?” Crow inexplicably shouted. She’s lucky the fans didn’t rush the stage and choke her with a Terrible Towel. First of all, it may have been sunny, but it was freezing cold—it was Pittsburgh in January! And the hometown Steelers were getting their asses handed to them by an inferior team. Maybe that wasn’t the best time to promote your latest single, Sheryl.]
5. The ABC/Disney/ESPN relationship. These groups are all a little to cozy with each other, their advertisers, and the BCS. First of all, ESPN/ABC’s college football analysts are hesitant to criticize the BCS, even though it is a deeply flawed system. Actually, it’s a complete joke. But John Saunders, Terry Bowden, Trev Alberts and the rest of them are too busy talking about how the Sooners are too good for USC to even bother mentioning how Auburn went undefeated in the country’s toughest conference and won its bowl game and is as deserving of the national championship as anyone. I'm not much of a conspiracy theorist, but I really think the powers that be at ABC/ESPN have cautioned these guys about criticizing the BCS since they are the ones with the broadcast rights.
Second, ESPN anchors appeared in ads for Ford and another car company that ran during the pregame show. This makes me uncomfortable. It’s not a big deal, but I really don’t think journalists should be doing this. I know it’s just sports journalism, but come on. Have some self-respect.
And speaking of slimy advertising, Disney got in on the act by putting Mickey Mouse on the sideline at the game while the announcers hyped a major announcement from Disney later in the night. The exciting news was that they gave a bunch of people who were at the game free admission to Disney World. Wow.
6. The ADT trophy. This is the championship trophy of college football and has been sponsored by three different companies in the last three years. But that’s not what bothers me. It’s a small crystal football, way too fragile for a bunch of hyped up football goons to be handling. I want a trophy that everyone can grab and pull on and toss around—not one that has to be cradled and gently passed like an infant.
7. The Oklahoma band. Oklahoma has a short, annoying fight song. And the band plays it every time the Sooners gain a yard. I’m not kidding. A three yard run up the middle was reason enough for them to play it. At one point the band continued playing it even as the play that prompted it was being called back because of a penalty.
8. Auburn and Utah get the shaft. I watched the entire game, and I saw how dominant USC was. But it still makes me crazy to hear all the so-called experts go on and on about how USC is clearly better than Auburn (they didn’t even mention undefeated Utah) and clearly deserved the national championship. These were the same dolts that all picked Oklahoma to win the game. They were all wrong about that, yet they have no problem stating without hesitance that USC would beat Auburn. Isn’t that why they play the game? In fact, it is—just not in college football.
One thing I liked about the Orange Bowl
Lynn Swann. He’s the best sideline reporter in the business. He actually lends insight that can only be gained on the field by a former player. ABC gives him carte blanche to interrupt the guys in the booth if he’s got something to say, and it works. Sure, occasionally he breaks in when it’s really not necessary. But he always gets the story on injuries and other things that are going on down on the field that the guys in the booth miss.
I have no idea why he doesn’t do this for the Monday Night games. All Michelle Tafoya does is talk about how she visited with this coach or that player earlier in the day and what a special guy he is. "I got to spend some time with Marvin Harrison today, Al and John." No shit. It's your job. She makes it sound like she ran into him in the drug store and they ended up going out for drinks. She lends nothing to the broadcast and is completely expendable. Same goes for Suzy Kolber on ESPN and most of the other sideline reporters for CBS and Fox.
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0 comments
( 1:41 AM )
Has anyone else noticed how Chris Berman looks different on ABC than he does when he's on ESPN? He always looks slightly less bloated on ABC, and his combover is a little slicker. I think they have a better hair person at the ABC studio in Times Square. And they must either have a girdle or a camera that makes him look thinner. Well, not thinner, just not as fat.
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0 comments
( 1:34 AM )
Names my wife mistakenly called Modest Mouse after seeing them on The O.C.
1. Ratdogs
2. Monkeybone
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0 comments
( 11:54 PM )
This Week in Embarrassingly Bad Music Publicity
I’m not out to take shots at other people’s music here, but I can’t resist taking shots at some of the promotional materials I get with CDs that are sent to me for review. So the artist will remain nameless. Instead, think of this as a part-time, amateur music critic’s advice about how not to get your album listened to.
Here’s the descriptive headline that ran under the artist and album title on the PR sheet that accompanied a CD I received in the mail today:
“An eclectic series of autobiographical pop narratives about love, loss and longing.”
Guess what? You just lost me. First of all, most rock songs are about love, loss and longing. This doesn’t make the album unique. It would be unique if it were about citrus fruit, sheet metal and the Mormon Tabernacle Choir.
And second, calling it autobiographical makes me even less inclined to listen. If a songwriter is writing about love, loss and longing, of course it’s based on his or her own experience (unless it’s a rock opera about Sylvia Plath). By inserting the word autobiographical in there, we’re supposed to think this is worth listening to because it’s the artist’s love, loss and longing. The problem is that I never heard of this guy, I don’t have the slightest idea who he is, and I’m not sure why his problems are any more important than mine other than the fact that he committed his to a 5-inch plastic disc for my listening pleasure.
This particular album’s promotional sheet also touts the artist’s “knack for writing Beatlesque pop hooks.” No musician should ever compare himself to the Beatles in any way shape or form. It’s presumptuous and ridiculous. Furthermore, don’t bother citing the Beatles as an influence. If you’re recording pop/rock music, you’ve been influenced by the Beatles. We all understand that. In fact, don’t mention Dylan either. You’re only setting the listener up for disappointment. Pick obscure or bizarre influences, like The Strawberry Alarm Clock, Cecil Taylor, or Rat Fratkins and the Blue Brew Crew. That’s instant credibility.
Keep in mind, I have not yet listened to the music of this artist. This is solely a critique of the album’s promotional materials. As far as I know, this guy could be the next George Gershwin, Willie Dixon or Rat Fratkins.
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A Dog Walker's Guide to Washington
When I walk my dog in my Dupont Circle neighborhood, I am consistently on the lookout for people and dogs to avoid. I am a reclusive person by nature; I don’t like to meet and greet others while I’m trying to get my dog take a crap against one square foot of weeds sticking out from a flower box on the corner of !9th and S Streets. I generally keep my head down, refusing to make eye contact and paying more attention to the gait of my pug than whatever annoying jerk might be approaching me with a high-strung terrier yelping and strangling himself at the end of a leash.
Actually, most of the folks wandering around my neighborhood at any given time are not that intrusive, nor are their dogs. But there are a few things to watch out for, particularly when you are walking a pug—a dog that seems to attract a relatively high amount of attention compared to your standard lab or beagle. Here’s who Norman and I are trying to avoid on our daily meanderings.
The Drunks
On Friday and Saturday nights there is a steady stream of drunk people walking down my street, moving between restaurants, bars, the Metro, karaoke parties and gang bangs. They are loud, they are obnoxious, and they are my worst nightmare. Inevitably a couple of the ladies make a big deal about Norman (useless to a married guy like me). Actually Norman loves drunk chicks because they are the most affectionate, getting right down to let him kiss their makeup-caked faces and shed white hair all over their black tube tobs. Me, I just don’t like talking to drunk people when I’m stone-cold sober.
Crazy Homeless Guys
Keep in mind that this group is differentiated from Just Homeless Guys, who I have no problem with and don’t mind letting Norman say hello to. It’s the CRAZY ones I avoid. These are the guys with the thousand-yard stare who mutter to themselves—actually they are usually shouting rather than muttering—and send everybody headed to the other side of the street. The really crazy ones walk right down the middle of the street, sending waves of confusion down the sidewalks on everyone doubles their effort not to make eye contact. These guys are always worth avoiding regardless of whether or not you’re walking a dog.
Old Ladies with Tiny Dogs
The dogs are usually annoyingly yappy or so decrepit they can barely stand and breathe at the same time. Same goes for the old ladies. Best to steer clear.
Big Scary Dogs
If you see a guy walking an unneutered pit bull with the head the size of a cinder block on a 30-pound steel chain, cross the street. Fortunately, this is a rarity in my neighborhood. The only dog around here that makes me nervous is a Doberman owned by an old man around the corner. The guy is at least 80, weighs no more than 120 pounds and looks like he could no more control that dog than climb Everest barefoot. And the dog is BIG. No way I’m walking my 20 pound dog near that monster with Mr. Burns holding the leash.
Dogs Who Look Perfectly Normal But Whose Owners Look Shifty or Mentally Unstable
First, a word about doggy protocol in my neighborhood. When approaching another dog/owner, the norm is to stop briefly and let the dogs say hello, unless one of the dogs is really barking and carrying on. Then it’s acceptable to rein your dog in and keep moving. (It’s also OK to keep walking if both owners can give off and read the vibe that says, “You know what? I’m just not in the mood for this right now, so let’s call off the meet and greet and keep moving.” I’m pretty good at orchestrating this maneuver). Now, every once in a while, I see a person approaching with a dog that looks completely benign. I start preparing for the meet and greet, but then I get a good look at the owner, and there’s something about him or her that just ain’t right. Maybe it’s 10 degrees out and he’s not wearing a coat. Or maybe she’s stopping at random intervals and staring into houses for uncomfortably long periods of time. Or maybe it’s just some dude who’s cross-eyed. It’s best to just cut into an alley and not take the chance.
The Overaffectionate Dog Lover
Perfectly harmless, just annoying. Anyone that shows more love for my dog on the street than I genuinely have for him makes me uncomfortable.
Kids With Sticks
Kids love to poke things with sticks. Avoid them and your dog will thank you.
Any Rough-Looking Terriers or Scroungy Mutts That Are Growling, Barking and Pulling Because They Want To Rip My Dog Apart
Just common sense to avoid these fuckers.
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0 comments
( 11:43 PM )
Baseball in DC: Amateur hour
Check out the official site of the Washington Nationals today on MLB.com: you’ll find out that you can no longer by Nationals gear or put down deposits on season tickets. In fact, you can learn how to get back your season ticket deposit, assuming you were naïve enough to actually go ahead and spend money on what was all a pipe dream.
Baseball in DC is dead, and just as Washington was starting to earn some respectability. Ever since Marion Barry, Washington has been a punchline. Now, thanks to a politically clumsy mayor and a council chair with no idea of how baseball or business works, Washington has again shown the rest of the country it’s ass. We might be the power center of the world, but we’re a second-rate city.
This whole debacle reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where Jerry and George get the deal with NBC to produce a pilot. George didn’t like the offer, offended at the relatively small payday compared with the network’s multi-million dollar deal with Ted Danson. So George passes, telling Jerry it’s just a negotiating technique. Of course, Jerry explains to him that if they pass, it’s over; NBC will just go to the next people on the list.
Bud Selig and Major League Baseball don’t need Washington. If DC doesn’t accept their terms, they will not hesitate to turn their back and keep walking. Baseball has a long history of doing things out of spite—these people don’t mess around. If Linda Cropp thinks she is negotiating for a better deal, she is not only out of her league, but completely out of her mind.
Perhaps the Expos/Nationals can hire George Constanza to be their traveling secretary next year. They’ll need one, because it’s doubtful they’ll be playing at RFK next year. Players might be looking at a six-month road trip in ’05. Tom Boswell of the Washington Post (the most authoritative voice about this issue) said he heard from a high-ranking baseball official that if DC doesn’t agree to the original deal by the end of the year, then the Nats will never play in Washington.
Looks like Vegas might be the next option on the board. Sports Illustrated ran an article two weeks ago about Vegas trying to land a pro sports franchise. The only thing stopping it is the shadow gambling might cast over baseball, particularly in the aftermath of Pete Rose, which seems to creep into the news every year. But at this point, who cares? Steroids are a much bigger issue than gambling. Las Vegas is the only viable city right now if DC is off the table. Otherwise, MLB might as well hold onto the Expos for two more years and then contract them after the current collective bargaining agreement expires.
We were so close. But to be honest, there were plenty of opponents to baseball in DC. Of course there are much greater needs in Washington then securing a baseball stadium at no cost to MLB or the new ownership group. But in the end, public financing of this stadium had nothing to do with fixing the schools or building more hospitals. You won’t see the city government doing anything about those problems if they manage to blow the stadium deal. You think businesses would agree to higher taxes to raise $400 million for the school system? Would anyone get behind that? Of course not.
Maybe I should move to New York.
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The new Wes Anderson movie is not getting good reviews. I loved Rushmore, still haven’t seen Bottle Rocket, wasn’t crazy about Royal Tennenbaums, and probably will wait to see The Life Aquatic on DVD. David Edelstein nailed it on Slate.com:
“But as is often the case with Anderson, the narrative design is elbowed aside by the production design…It would be all too easy to Make Your Own Wes Anderson shot. Put a quirky person, dressed in loud but stylish colors, in the center of the frame; use a lens that spreads out the image and shortens the distance between foreground and background, creating a two-dimensional puppet-stage effect; stick an object or a character off to one side to throw off the symmetry; and, voilà. You're in the New York Film Festival.”
That encapsulates how I felt about Tennenbaums: scenes were created for their own sake, their own intrinsic beauty or bizarre juxtaposition of characters and scenery. They did little to advance a compelling story. Sounds like The Life Aquatic is more of the same.
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