100 Pipers on the Bandwagon

Just a drinker with a keyboard. Let's see what happens.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

My tumblr is 6 years old, according to this e-mail I got from tumblr.

I feel the need to respect the anniversary, even as I no longer post. But what would I write about? Do you really want 3,000 words on where I drink these days, the absurdity of current tax forms, my long-term relationship, or my expectations for Geno Smith? Nice to see everyone, though.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

Hello, friends.

I am a week from moving away from mu current apartment and shacking up with my significant other until we find a permanent place. I wasn't getting all nostalgic about it until now, and I feel like it may be my honor and privilege to do a detailed, list-style recap of The Williamsburg Years, since I will likely have to not only change residences significantly in the next two months. This is not a promise. Or a threat. Merely a heads-up,

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

I'm afraid I wasn't able to deliver your message to the following addresses.

This is a permanent error; I've given up. Sorry it didn't work out.

user is over quota

I don't know who writes these automated e-mail server messages, but this is just way too apologetic, absorbing blame for a situation that is not the e-mail server's fault. If the user is over their quota, what are you supposed to do? "Sorry it didn't work out?" This isn't a relationship gone bad, it's an email! Something like this is far more appropriate, I think:

Your message was not delivered to the following addresses:

User is over quota. What do you want me to do?

If I were you, I would call this loser and tell him/her, "Clean out your inbox and straighten up your act, we're running a business around here. I have some important information to send you, so let me know when you've cleaned out all those newsletters to bars and events you will never go to, the chain letters and jokes, and online offers that you will not take advantage of for stuff you don't need. When you've got your act together, and you've got the inbox of a professional who's ready to get to work, let me know."

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

Wait, I didn't read the whole story....

THEY GAVE UP TWO DRAFT PICKS FOR TEBOW!!!!

Two picks? Really? Was there a crack party at the Jets offices last night??????

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

Yes, I know I've said I'm given up on this team before. But I took them back after the whole Favre thing. They drafted Sanchez, and i though I would never have to endure this again. Well, Jets, you've fooled me twice now, and like George W. Bush, you're not fooling me again.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

In non-sports Tumblr posts,

I'm glad the cream of tomato soup at the cafeteria today is not the fake "creamless" cream of tomato. I don't really see the point of using fake cream. Just make tomato soup then, and be done with it. There are plenty of other cream-free styles, like roasted, to accommodate those who do not want cream. Am I crazy?

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

It's not bad enough that they got Tebow for their momentum-killing "Wildcat" packages, but they gave up a fourth-round pick? Really, you couldn't wait a week to see if he got released? The market was that hot for him????? You needed a Wildcat QB that badly?

It's clear all the Jets care about is publicity and headlines, and not about winning. Hell, I don't expect them to win, I just want to entertained, and hope sopmeday that they come through. But I can't support shit like this. And I use the word very deliberately, because that what this is: shit.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! NO! HELL NO!

I think I am finally fucking done with the New York Jets.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

Have you ever checked out a homeless guy's abs? Didn't think so.

I ask the question above because I have reached the time of year when I become fat. Or at least have a noticeable paunch. And don't think it didn't come up when I saw the family the other day. For some reason, I am expected to remain Mr. Universe, so any visible lack of fitness is noted. In addition to that long-term psychological damage, I just donl't feel good being out of shape. It hurts my back a little, and I am always keenly aware of when my gut is larger than normal. Needless to say, I would like to get back in shape, I intend to get back in shape, as I have in the past, but I'm not actually going to anytime soon logging these ridiculous office hours, a horrid side effect of my current work, right along with a lack of awareness about current events and pop culture.

That leads me to wonder if that would be an acceptable answer to give at a job interview or on a job application. Reason for leaving previous employment: "A pot belly and manboobs." I'm positive far worse answers have been given out.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

Political analysis from someone who has become genuinely too busy to follow politics, but used to know it well and follow it closely

Imagine that there was a guy like the Richard Pryor character in "Brewster's Millions" who had to spend a a ton of money in 30 days and end up with nothing to show for it, and that guy had decided to run a Republican primary campaign touting "Not Mitt Romney" in much the same manner of the "None of the Above" mayoral campaign in the movie. And it was successful, leading to a brokered convention when the party gets a candidate they can live with.

I think that scenario is far less embarrassing and insulting to Mitt Romney than this inexplicable "comeback" of Rick Santorum.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

Nothing to see here, right, cleaning ladies?

So one of you was sitting up on the counter, legs spread somewhat. And the other was standing very close to her, possibly in between those legs. And then I walked in looking for vending machine Doritos. And then shit got awkward. So awkward I ended up leaving with a cup of water because I didn't know what else to do, and you two pretended to get back to work in the same style of Steve Martin and John Candy in Planes, Trains, and Automobiles after Steve Martin exclaims, "Those aren't pillows!"

Look, I'm pretty sure it it wasn't what I thought and even if it was, so what? Not my business, ladies. Although for future reference, if you are going to do that sort of thing, use the handicapped bathroom. No worries, we have no handicapped folks on this floor.  If you were doing that, and plan to do that again. Which I'm sure you weren't.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

In case any members of law enforcement read that prior post, I am just kidding. I have potential Form 8918's to take care of, so there is no way I can take tomorrow off.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

You know who ought to get stabbed in their eyes with metal toothpicks?! People who make fantasy football trade offers like LeSean McCoy for Joe Flacco, get rejected, and then come back the next day proposing Mike Wallace for Joe Flacco. I should take tomorrow off, go this idiot's office where he clearly does no work, and beat this guy down with a tire iron.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

Shut up about how everyone should be watching your sport, Tom Verducci.

Once in a while, I read something that makes me eyes bleed and head hurt to the point where I can't continue it. Then I come here to rail to a mostly indifferent audience. It's one of those times.

I've slowly noticed this in the writing of Sports Illustrated's Tom Verducci for some time now, and it's a tactic I abhor, especially from writers I like who should know better. The logic goes something like: "See people? This is why [my sport, perceived to be struggling and not exactly tapped into the American zeitgeist] is much better than [infinitely more popular sport that my sport wished it had the TV ratings and revenues of]! See? Why can't you see, American public? Please see!"

Verducci did this in comparing the managing "showdown" between Tony "I bring random dudes out of the bullpen BECAUSE I CAN" LaRussa versus Ron "Hitters gonna hit, pitchers gonna pitch" Washington. LaRussa, perceived to be the superior tactical genius, made a couple of not-so-superior moves that may have cost his team the game in the ninth inning. This prompted Verducci to write this crap:

This World Series is reproving why baseball, when you take away the obsession with ratings and payrolls and the annual bleatings of how to "fix" this American institution, is the best kind of competition. This kind of baseball is a second-guesser's delight. Everybody wakes up the next morning a better manager than the guys in the dugout the night before. Great baseball games have an afterlife unlike those of any other sport. The games go on eternally. Tommy Lasorda still has to hear about why he didn't walk Jack Clark.

Nobody wakes up slamming Bill Belichick for going to a Cover 2 on third-and-long early in the fourth quarter. Heck, football coaches themselves routinely issue the disclaimer, "I've got to look at the films" to understand what really happened. Football games are disposable. Great baseball games get preserved in our mental amber.

"Preserved in our mental amber?" What? Huh? What is he talking about? So baseball is better than football because it's somewhat easier to second-guess the coaches/managers?

First of all, NOT TRUE. Dopes sitting in bars like myself may not be experts in either sport, but it has never stopped anyone from second-guessing the coach or manager. You will hear an equal amount of "I can't believe the manager is bringing in this clown" and "I can't believe these fools just ran it up the middle on 4th down!" from sports fans. Football fans don't sit there, just shrug their shoulders and go, "Well, the offensive coordinator must know something I don't," then go back to drinking their beers and beating their wives, which is pretty much what Verducci would have you believe from that quote.

Second, is there any more sign of a desperate sport that one that's always compaing itself hopelessly to the top dog and going, "They should be watching us!" It's pathetic.

I first used to notice this with some hockey fans, whose big move to promote their sport would be to take shots at the NBA, the more popular American winter sport. And it never worked, as hockey just has a limited appeal. There's nothing wrong with that, as the owners soon figured out. Post-lockout, you don't hear this tired old trope anymore because the big lesson learned from missing an entire season was that hockey is a niche sport. And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that.

Of course, no one learns their lesson. Michael Wilbon of Pardon the Interruption and an ABC NBA analyst, has taken the tack of attacking the NFL on PTI and imploring people to watch more NBA basketball. This made me wince, but not truly get me angry, as I've sort of dismissed it as TV schtick he does, much like when he takes his constant shots at the East Coast in defense of the forgotten Midwest. It's an exaggerated version of his real feelings. That said, it's also a mistake. And sure enough, now the NBA is about to start missing regular season games, and guess what? Almost no one cares. Basketball will soon be harshly reminded of it's standing in the American sports hierarchy.

And now, here comes the Defender of America's Pastime, Tom Verducci. Much like Wilbon, I think Verducci's too good a writer and reporter for this tired junk. Look, is it sad that baseball isn't what it once was in the culture? Sure. But constantly attacking football is not the way to go about promoting baseball. Especially if it leads to writing stuff like what I saw today that pretty much stopped me from finishing this article. Let baseball be. As basketball and hockey found out, no amount of pontificating from writers is going to change the public's mind. So stop, enjoy your sport, and keep Bill Belichick's name out of your articles. It's only reminding baseball fans that they haven't checked out Peter King's picks column yet.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

I thought people had finally learned to leave me alone, but it just turns out that my new phone does not get reception here at work. It doesn't just not get reception, after all, I'm not near a window and I'm located in the middle of the floor. But my old phone would, once in a while, pick up a little something, just enough for a few messages to get through.

Nope, not the new one. If doens't get a signal after a while, I think it just gives up and goes to sleep, quitting like a disgruntled Popeye's employee who has been burned by the grease FOR THE LAST GODDAMN TIME.  Until I leave the building, turn the phone off, and then turn it back on again. It's not a complaint about my phone, actually (because, sercretly, deep down, you know how I feel about people, even people I like) but more like a commentary on its quirks.

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

Real people, real problems.

So, the lady really wants to see "The Ides of March" this weekend. And why not? It looks like a quality political drama featuring Ryan Gosling and George Clooney. Gosling probably plays some idealistic-but-complicated political operative who works for George Clooney, a politician who is not all that he seems. Gosling discovers this in spectacular fashion and soon has to figure out if he wants to take down the system and retain his ideals. Or should he choke down a big, rotting bag of graft, corruption, and cynicism, thus achieving success? 

Or maybe the plot is: Clooney bones Gosling's girlfriend while out on the campaign trail, and then, in a dramatic scene, shows the idealistic young buck a videotape of the encounter, then saying, "You might be the flavor of the minute kid, but I've been at this for years. Know your place," leaving Gosling devastated, forced to pick up the pieces of not being quite as handsome as he thought.

Either way, it's got to be good, right?. It won't be boring and ponderous. Or predictable. Right? Right? It has to be good! Hopefully?

I don't know, these are high expectations to fulfill. Personally, I think "Real Steel" is actually the safer cinematic pick. At today's inflated theater prices, what you really want in your cinema in no downside. There is NO DOWNSIDE to seeing "Real Steel."

If it's good, great. If it's not, it's probably still great. Especially if you're me, who likes laughing at movies that are nominally not comedies. (Cut to: video of me laughing hysterically at "Black Swan", followed by more video of me hysterically laughing at the end of "There Will Be Blood.")

The point is, there's no way the movie's boring. The pitch: Wolverine trains boxing robots! It's either "Rocky" for the digital age or overproduced comedy gold. It's going to virtually impossible for it to be boring. "The Ides of March" kind of has a little bit of boring-ass Oscar bait potential. Plus, what's new that you can bring to the political thriller? Boxing robots, on the other hand...

[wellwhiskeyfriday]

You think you got problems?

I left my ID home and it's shrimp fritters day at the cafeteria! Fuck!