Wednesday, November 30, 2005

The Little Prince





Voici mon secret. Il est très simple : on ne voit bien qu'avec le coeur. L'essentiel est invisible pour les yeux.

(Here is my secret. It is very simple. It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; What is essential is invisible to the eye.)
Antoine de Saint-Exupery, The Little Prince

"If you please--draw me a sheep!" Thus begins Antoine de Saint-Exupery's bittersweet story of childhood -- his meeting with the little prince. Few writers have captured the differences between adults and children better than Saint-Exupery, particularly this book, which tells the story of the Boy Prince from Asteroid B-612, who comes to Earth looking for a sheep to rid his tiny planet of baobab trees. The story is full of wisdom for both kids and adults, and above all teaches love and understanding and the importance of childhood.

Very few books can reach both adults and children -- The Little Prince stands on a level with Narnia and Dr. Seuss in that respect. If you haven't read it, whether you have kids or not, I highly recommend it.

Cubs Front-Runners for Furcal

It appears the Cubs may make a big splash in the free agent market by signing SS and needed leadoff hitter Rafael Furcal, in reports from ESPN and the Chicago Tribune. This would be big for the Cubs, and would make their off-season a success even if they can't add another bat. Stay tuned.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Well, Duh

This news just in -- if you have a fat rumpus, you may need a longer needle for those delightful medical sticks in the derriere. Are you kidding me? This is the best the media can come up with? This isn't news, it's common sense!

Bears

Week by week, I'm becoming more of a believer. The only teams I don't see them matching up well against are three AFC teams: Indianapolis, Pittsburgh (if healthy) and Denver. Can they get to the Super Bowl with Kyle Orton at QB? Definitely. Will they? Now that's the question. I think they have as good a shot as any in the NFC, particularly if they get a game or 2 at home. My prediction -- they win one playoff game this year and set the foundation for next year.

Here's what the SNL Superfans have to say about this weekend's game (from SNL website -- Packers and Lovie Smith references substituted!)

Bill Swerski: Now, gentlemen, let me ask you this: What if Da Bears were all 14 inches tall, you know, about so high? Now, what's your score of Sunday's game?

Carl Wollarski: Against Da Packers?

Bill Swerski: Yes, give 'em a handicap.

Carl Wollarski: Bears 18, Packers 10. And that would finally be a good game.

Pat Arnold: Yeah, it would be a good game. Mini Bears 24, Packers 14.

Todd O'Conner: What about Coach Lovie? Would he be mini, too?

Bill Swerski: No, he would be full-grown.

Todd O'Conner: Oh, then, uh.. Mini Bears 31, Packers 7.

Carl Wollarski: Oh, hold on. Then I change mine, too. I thought it was Mini Lovie.

Saturday, November 26, 2005

Next Time, I'll Try the Getaway Car

Man tries to evade police on riding lawnmower -- I'm cutting some grass while I'm heading to Mexico, and freedom, baby, sweet freedom!

Walk the Line

Saw the Johnny Cash biopic last night -- well worth the price (free, thanks to David or Papa's?) movie passes. Would've been worth the $7.50, too. Joaquin Phoenix really gets into the character, and Reese Witherspoon was also great as June Carter. The time frame of the movie is a pretty brutal time in Cash's life -- a time when he was drinking, pill-popping and cheating on his first wife. A scene I really liked came toward the end; in helping Cash get his life back together, June Carter takes a reluctant Johnny back to church for the first time in a long time. Not a country fan, but there's something about Johnny Cash's music that breaks down that boundary for me.

Friday, November 25, 2005

Sox Trade for Thome

Why is Sox Nation so excited about this deal? The guy's had back problems for several years, is coming off an awful 2005, and happens to be 35 years old, an age when many sluggers that aren't on the juice start hitting the downside of their careers. And to get him they trade Aaron Rowand? Please. I think the heady days of the 2005 World Series win has addled Sox fans' brains. These are the types of team-killing moves they made up until last year. Gonna be a waste of $21.5M for the Sox, which could have been spent on keeping Konerko or otherwise upgrading the O.

Sayonara Mr. Miyagi

Pat Morita died in Las Vegas yesterday at age 73. He was best known for the roles of Mr. Miyagi in the Karate Kid (and for the butt-kickings he gave Johnny and his posse and eventually, Johnny's sensei, Kreese). He also played Arnold on Happy Days, preceding Al, who owned the drive-in Richie and the Fonz hung-out in. Daniel-san and I, will miss you.

Tornado in Newburgh



Took a drive through Nana and Papa's town today to take a look at the tornado damage from a few weeks ago. Absolutely unreal. The amount of the destruction and the total randomness of the homes hit versus the homes spared are the two things that really struck me. Gave me an appreciation of what New Orleans and Mississippi must look like on an even greater scale. Jen took some pictures, which are displayed on her password protected blog. I think it's worthwhile to see things like these up close and personal. Being there can impact you in a way that the news and mere pictures cannot.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Happy Thanksgiving!

The following is from the Fourth World Documentation Project, at the following website -- http://www.2020tech.com/thanks/temp.html

THE PLYMOUTH THANKSGIVING STORY

When the Pilgrims crossed the Atlantic Ocean in 1620,
they landed on the rocky shores of a territory that was
inhabited by the Wampanoag (Wam pa NO ag) Indians. The
Wampanoags were part of the Algonkian-speaking peoples, a
large group that was part of the Woodland Culture area.
These Indians lived in villages along the coast of what is
now Massachusetts and Rhode Island. They lived in round-
roofed houses called wigwams. These were made of poles
covered with flat sheets of elm or birch bark. Wigwams
differ in construction from tipis that were used by Indians
of the Great Plains.

The Wampanoags moved several times during each year in
order to get food. In the spring they would fish in the
rivers for salmon and herring. In the planting season they
moved to the forest to hunt deer and other animals. After
the end of the hunting season people moved inland where
there was greater protection from the weather. From
December to April they lived on food that they stored
during the earlier months.

The basic dress for men was the breech clout, a length
of deerskin looped over a belt in back and in front. Women
wore deerskin wrap-around skirts. Deerskin leggings and fur
capes made from deer, beaver, otter, and bear skins gave
protection during the colder seasons, and deerskin
moccasins were worn on the feet. Both men and women usually
braided their hair and a single feather was often worn in
the back of the hair by men. They did not have the large
feathered headdresses worn by people in the Plains Culture
area.

There were two language groups of Indians in New
England at this time. The Iroquois were neighbors to the
Algonkian-speaking people. Leaders of the Algonquin and
Iroquois people were called "sachems" (SAY chems). Each
village had its own sachem and tribal council. Political
power flowed upward from the people. Any individual, man or
woman, could participate, but among the Algonquins more
political power was held by men. Among the Iroquois,
however, women held the deciding vote in the final
selection of who would represent the group. Both men and
women enforced the laws of the village and helped solve
problems. The details of their democratic system were so
impressive that about 150 years later Benjamin Franklin
invited the Iroquois to Albany, New York, to explain their
system to a delegation who then developed the "Albany Plan
of Union." This document later served as a model for the
Articles of Confederation and the Constitution of the
United States.

These Indians of the Eastern Woodlands called the
turtle, the deer and the fish their brothers. They
respected the forest and everything in it as equals.
Whenever a hunter made a kill, he was careful to leave
behind some bones or meat as a spiritual offering, to help
other animals survive. Not to do so would be considered
greedy. The Wampanoags also treated each other with
respect. Any visitor to a Wampanoag home was provided with
a share of whatever food the family had, even if the supply
was low. This same courtesy was extended to the Pilgrims
when they met.

We can only guess what the Wampanoags must have
thought when they first saw the strange ships of the
Pilgrims arriving on their shores. But their custom was to
help visitors, and they treated the newcomers with
courtesy. It was mainly because of their kindness that the
Pilgrims survived at all. The wheat the Pilgrims had
brought with them to plant would not grow in the rocky
soil. They needed to learn new ways for a new world, and
the man who came to help them was called "Tisquantum" (Tis
SKWAN tum) or "Squanto" (SKWAN toe).

Squanto was originally from the village of Patuxet (Pa
TUK et) and a member of the Pokanokit Wampanoag nation.
Patuxet once stood on the exact site where the Pilgrims
built Plymouth. In 1605, fifteen years before the Pilgrims
came, Squanto went to England with a friendly English
explorer named John Weymouth. He had many adventures and
learned to speak English. Squanto came back to New England
with Captain Weymouth. Later Squanto was captured by a
British slaver who raided the village and sold Squanto to
the Spanish in the Caribbean Islands. A Spanish Franciscan
priest befriended Squanto and helped him to get to Spain
and later on a ship to England. Squanto then found Captain
Weymouth, who paid his way back to his homeland. In England
Squanto met Samoset of the Wabanake (Wab NAH key) Tribe,
who had also left his native home with an English explorer.
They both returned together to Patuxet in 1620. When they
arrived, the village was deserted and there were skeletons
everywhere. Everyone in the village had died from an
illness the English slavers had left behind. Squanto and
Samoset went to stay with a neighboring village of
Wampanoags.

One year later, in the spring, Squanto and Samoset
were hunting along the beach near Patuxet. They were
startled to see people from England in their deserted
village. For several days, they stayed nearby observing the
newcomers. Finally they decided to approach them. Samoset
walked into the village and said "welcome," Squanto soon
joined him. The Pilgrims were very surprised to meet two
Indians who spoke English.

The Pilgrims were not in good condition. They were
living in dirt-covered shelters, there was a shortage of
food, and nearly half of them had died during the winter.
They obviously needed help and the two men were a welcome
sight. Squanto, who probably knew more English than any
other Indian in North America at that time, decided to stay
with the Pilgrims for the next few months and teach them
how to survive in this new place. He brought them deer meat
and beaver skins. He taught them how to cultivate corn and
other new vegetables and how to build Indian-style houses.
He pointed out poisonous plants and showed how other plants
could be used as medicine. He explained how to dig and cook
clams, how to get sap from the maple trees, use fish for
fertilizer, and dozens of other skills needed for their
survival.

By the time fall arrived things were going much better
for the Pilgrims, thanks to the help they had received. The
corn they planted had grown well. There was enough food to
last the winter. They were living comfortably in their
Indian-style wigwams and had also managed to build one
European-style building out of squared logs. This was their
church. They were now in better health, and they knew more
about surviving in this new land. The Pilgrims decided to
have a thanksgiving feast to celebrate their good fortune.
They had observed thanksgiving feasts in November as
religious obligations in England for many years before
coming to the New World.

The Algonkian tribes held six thanksgiving festivals
during the year. The beginning of the Algonkian year was
marked by the Maple Dance which gave thanks to the Creator
for the maple tree and its syrup. This ceremony occurred
when the weather was warm enough for the sap to run in the
maple trees, sometimes as early as February. Second was the
planting feast, where the seeds were blessed. The
strawberry festival was next, celebrating the first fruits
of the season. Summer brought the green corn festival to
give thanks for the ripening corn. In late fall, the
harvest festival gave thanks for the food they had grown.
Mid-winter was the last ceremony of the old year. When the
Indians sat down to the "first Thanksgiving" with the
Pilgrims, it was really the fifth thanksgiving of the year
for them!

Captain Miles Standish, the leader of the Pilgrims,
invited Squanto, Samoset, Massasoit (the leader of the
Wampanoags), and their immediate families to join them for
a celebration, but they had no idea how big Indian families
could be. As the Thanksgiving feast began, the Pilgrims
were overwhelmed at the large turnout of ninety relatives
that Squanto and Samoset brought with them. The Pilgrims
were not prepared to feed a gathering of people that large
for three days. Seeing this, Massasoit gave orders to his
men within the first hour of his arrival to go home and get
more food. Thus it happened that the Indians supplied the
majority of the food: Five deer, many wild turkeys, fish,
beans, squash, corn soup, corn bread, and berries. Captain
Standish sat at one end of a long table and the Clan Chief
Massasoit sat at the other end. For the first time the
Wampanoag people were sitting at a table to eat instead of
on mats or furs spread on the ground. The Indian women sat
together with the Indian men to eat. The Pilgrim women,
however, stood quietly behind the table and waited until
after their men had eaten, since that was their custom.

For three days the Wampanoags feasted with the
Pilgrims. It was a special time of friendship between two
very different groups of people. A peace and friendship
agreement was made between Massasoit and Miles Standish
giving the Pilgrims the clearing in the forest where the
old Patuxet village once stood to build their new town of
Plymouth.

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Howry's A Cub

The deal is done 3 years, $12M. Won't announce officially until next week, when Howry has his physical. Bullpen's looking better. Now it's time to focus on leadoff and another big stick in the OF.

100 Posts Baby!

To celebrate this milestone post, I thought I'd share 10 little known facts about myself, the intriguing and mysterious Tarzan Joe Wallis.

1) Tarzan Joe Wallis is my favorite Cubs from the monumentally bad teams of the late 1970s.

2) I have a single dimple when I smile -- on the right side of my face.

3) I have a single dimple on my butt -- on the right cheek.

4) When I was a kid, I had two nicknames: Jelly Belly (I was a chubby l'il dude) and Bazooka Butt (let your imagination run wild).

5) I have three visible scars -- on my chin from a bike accident, on my knee from hitting a fireplug making spectacular baseball catches, and on my left thigh from catching my leg on the bumper of a car.

6) When I was in high school, I was on the Board of the Chicago Catholic Youth Organization.

7) In my chubbier days, I would amuse friend and foe with "Belly Face." (eat your heart out Homer Simpson)

8) I invented an art form called "Flex Poetry", four lines of verse, always ending with "because I love you and stuff."

9) My attorney brother is a part-time improv performer at the IO in Chicago (formerly Improv Olympic).

10) In second grade, I was Mr. Frog in the class production of "Mr. Frog Goes A-Courtin'" when the star caught the flu, opposite the girl of my early grammar school dreams...

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

MOBA

MOBA -- The Museum of Bad Art. I'm fairly certain that if you look long enough, you'll find most of my grade school art work here. Love to know what the muse was for several of these works...





Gizoogle

Ever wanted to translate your webpage, or another's webpage into Snoop Doggy Dogg Gangsta speak? Then Gizoogle is for you. Word of warning though -- Gangsta speak can be somewhat colorful (or off-colorful, if you catch my drift). I've taken the liberty of editing out some of these remarks, so as not to offend some of my more sensitive readers...

For example, check out this translation of an Associated Press article on Ted Koppel's last Nightline:

Koppel Bidd'n Farewell ta 'Nightline'
Izzy

By DAVID BAUDER, AP Televizzle Writa 1 hour, 8 minutes ago

NEW YORK - The Ted Koppel era on ABC's "Nightline" ends wit his farewell Tuesday night afta 25 years of rhymin' a serious alternative ta late-night laughs.

Koppel's final broadcast was ta be a look B-to-tha-izzack at one of his favorite interviews. Im a bad boy wit a lotta hos: his 1995 conversizzles wit terminally ill college professor Morrie Schwartz, which led ta Mizzitch Albom's best-sell'n book "Tuesdays wit Morrie."

"Nightline" wiznill continue Monday wit a revamped format n hosts Martin Bashir, Cynthia McFadden n Terry Moran.

The program officially began in Mizzarch 1980 now pass the glock Anotha dogg house production. Playa Koppel spizzent several months brief'n brotha each nizzight `bout tha Iranian hostage crisis, ABC put him in that time slot permanently.

Koppel's live interviews wizzle tha early clockin' card. At tha time, wit CNN jizzay start'n as tha only all-news network, it was a novel idea ta bring interview subjects motherfu%$! fizzy all over tha world.

His voice rarely rose — n tha famous helmet of hizzy stayed in place — but Koppel's incisive interviews continued through Hurricane Katrina n his memorable takedown of forma Federal Emergency Managizzles Director Michael Brown.

"Oizzay legacy," Koppel told The Associated Press, "is that a serious news broadcast can be successful on all counts, witout blunt-rollin' ta anyone's wanna be gangsta instincts fo' sheezy. `Nightline' has made a lot of money. Ya "mess" with us, we gots to "mess" you up. It has been successful in terms of viewership, awards n accolades. But mizzay important ta me, it's bizzle successful in not ever hav'n ta cracka its standards."

In wanna be gangsta years, "Nightline" evolved into a home fo` some of broadcast's most serious news documentizzles wit each rhymin' concentrated on a single topic fo shizzle.

The program survived a brush wit death in 2002, W-H-to-tha-izzen ABC execizzles courted comic David Letterman ta fizzy tha tizzle sliznot.

Koppel, 65, slowed dizzle in his last few years, often perpetratin' three nights a week and, like tha late-night comedians, tap'n his shizzay a few hours before broadcast.

ABC wizzill go live again wit "Nightline" wizzy Bashir n McFadden wizzle friznom tha network's Times Square studio in New York. Like Koppel, Moran will be based in Washington yaba daba dizzle. New brotha James Goldston said tha spiffed-up "Nightline" will tackle several topics a niznight to increase tha peace.

Those is big changes, but Goldston said he's extremely consshizzous of not scar'n away tha loyal but blingin' "Nightline" audience — its nightly average of 3.6 million brotha is dizzle fizzy 5.5 million a decade ago. Goldston promised several stories on tha Iraq war n a series on AIDS in India in his first two weeks.

Koppel is not clockin' — he will continue work'n wit his produca, Tom Bettag. They were negotiat'n wit HBO `bout doing documentizzles with the S-N-double-O-P.

Cabbage?

Ever wonder what it would be like to be a cabbage? Wonder no more.

Super Bowl Shuffle II?

Not willing to go that far yet -- Carolina is a good team, but not a great team, methinks. Haven't been this excited about a Bears team since the late 80s, however. That defense has the makings of a dominant unit if the Bears do what it takes to keep them together. If Kyle Orton (or Rex Grossman) can make more strides over the next few years, they could eventually go Shufflin for the first time since I was a teenager...

View the original Shuffle

"They call me Fridge, and I'm the rookie. I may be large, but I'm no dumb cookie."

Bobby Howry

Rumor has it that the Cubs made an offer to ex-Sox closer and Cleveland set-up man Bob Howry -- something in the range of $12M for 3 years. If they can get Howry to go along with Eyre, that would be a solid start to upgrading the bullpen. Still, $23M for two set-up men seems like a boatload of money that may lead to excuses as to why they can't sign a leadoff hitter, a SS, and another starter...

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Winter Movies

Love this time of year -- it's like summertime for movies -- only for adults. Saw Harry Potter this past weekend -- best of the Potter movies to date, but then it's gotten a little bit darker given the struggle between good and evil. Here's what's on my list between now and Christmas (although most will end up NetFlixed):

The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe
Jarhead
Walk the Line
The Ice Harvest
Syriana
The Libertine
Munich
The New World
The Matador
Good Night and Good Luck
The Weatherman
Shopgirl
A History of Violence
Elizabethtown

The Boss -- A Few Of My Favorite Springs(teen)

Love the Boss -- another chronological list of my favorites, again MY favorites (they may or may not be yours!)...

Growin' Up
It's Hard to Be a Saint in the City
4th of July, Asbury Park
Rosalita (Come Out Tonight)
Thunder Road
Tenth Avenue Freeze-out
Born to Run
Jungleland
Adam Raised a Cain
Something in the Night
Streets of Fire
Darkness on the Edge of Town
The River
Fade Away
Atlantic City
Reason to Believe
Walk Like A Man
Tunnel of Love
One Step Up
Better Days
If I Should Fall Behind
Sinaloa Cowboys
My Best Was Never Good Enough
Nothing Man
Jesus Was An Only Son

Saturday, November 19, 2005

A Few More Deep Thoughts

How come the dove gets to be the peace symbol? How about the pillow? It has more feathers than the dove, and it doesn't have that dangerous beak.

If you define cowardice as running away at the first sign of danger, screaming and tripping and begging for mercy, then yes, Mr. Brave man, I guess I'm a coward.

Maybe in order to understand mankind we have to look at that word itself. MANKIND. Basically, it's made up of two separate words "mank" and "ind." What do these words mean? It's a mystery and that's why so is mankind.

Happy Birthday Cate!

My niece turns one today! Shout out to Catherine, Jeff & Julie (Cate's proud Pop and Mom) on a milestone day!

Word Play

Ah, political correctness. Sometimes thy name is stupidity. Gotta love this. The Global Language Monitor stays abreast of trends in the English language. The group appears to be serious, but the results it tracks seem anything but... Gotta like "misguided criminals" and the banning of the word "mate."

Friday, November 18, 2005

Deep Thoughts

Deep Thoughts -- one of my favorite things from SNL -- and someone has collected most of Jack Handey's Deep Thoughts at the link. Here are few to set the mood:

Sometimes life seems like a dream, especially when I look down and see that I
forgot to put on my pants.

Contrary to what most people say, the most dangerous animal in the world is
not the lion or the tiger or even the elephant. It's a shark riding on an
elephant's back, just trampling and eating everything they see.

The memories of my family outings are still a source of strength to me. I
remember we'd all pile into the car - I forget what kind it was - and drive
and drive. I'm not sure where we'd go, but I think there were some trees
there. The smell of something was strong in the air as we played whatever
sport we played. I remember a bigger, older guy we called "Dad." We'd eat some
stuff, or not, and then I think we went home. I guess some things never leave
you.

Why do people in ship mutinies always ask for "better treatment"? I'd ask for
a pinball machine, because with all that rocking back and forth you'd probably
be able to get a lot of free games.

Scott Eyre Draws Mine (Maybe....)

Gotta say there have been sexier moves. $11M for a 33 year old reliever who's had one really good season in his career? And this is supposed to make me wanna go out a buy tickets? It's early in the off-season, granted, but it already looks like the best laid plans of Cubs and fans are going awry -- Chipper renegotiates so the Braves can afford Furcal, now the Cubs are saying that with Eyre's signing, they don't necessarily need another good starting pitcher because Rusch can stay in the rotation. All too predictable...

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

R.E.M. -- The Best Kind of Sleep, and Another of My Faves

However, this list will only include my favorite Bill Berry included REM songs -- Top 20(again in chronological order) -- they just haven't been as good since:

Radio Free Europe
Letter Never Sent
Life and How to Live It
Superman
Finest Worksong
It's the End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
The One I Love
You Are the Everything
Orange Crush
Turn You Inside Out
Radio Song
Losing My Religion
Belong
Everybody Hurts
Man on the Moon
Nightswimming
What's The Frequency, Kenneth?
Strange Currencies
Bang and Blame
Bittersweet Me

The Bestest Socks Ever

Jeff C's blog and it's discussion of gray tube socks got me reminiscing about my favorite socks -- white Calvin Klein tube socks, that I found in Paris on Jen and my trip to France. Before you go pegging me as an ugly American (I am, in fact, quite attractive) or as noveau rich, hear my story. While Jen and I made it to Paris with no problem, our luggage spent a wonderful long weekend in the beerhalls of Munich, only to be returned 12 hours before our return flight so that we could lug them back to the airport. After about 36 hours in the same clothes, with no hope of reprieve in sight (and to avoid becoming the Smelly American) we ventured out to a department store to find some Land End style and price type clothes. It was here, (among the French clothes that screamed go back to America to find "husky" sized clothing, Toughskins boy) that I came upon the greatest socks ever, the French version of the Calvin Klein tube socks.

What made them so great? Try stepping into a hug. That's how these socks made your feet feel. I could walk in them for hours upon hours, play basketball in them, whatever, and my feet felt as light and frothy as a freshly opened can of Mr. Pibb. One of the more disappointing days of my life was the day I tragically had to come to the realization the socks had expired (kind of like the day the music died in "American Pie"). Even sadder, I've searched for these socks across the U.S., and the Calvin Kleins just don't compare. While I wouldn't consider myself obsessive, I feel that my search for the socks echoes Captain Ahab's search for the white whale in "Moby Dick." They were that great.

Falco, Where Are You When We Need You?

Der Kommissar. Rock Me Amadeus. Vienna Calling. The Kiss of Kathleen Turner. The Man. The Myth. The Legend. It can only be 80s three hit wonder ("Kathleen Turner", sadly, never made it big in the U.S.) Falco. All I know is that you weren't truly alive in the 80s if you didn't catch yourself humming:

Dreh dich nicht um, schau, schau,
der Kommissar geht um!
Er hat die Kraft und wir sind klein und dumm,
dieser Frust macht uns Stumm.

Or in English:

Don't turn around, look, look,
the Kommissar is out and about!
He has the power and we're little and dumb;
all of this frustration makes us mum.

Or if you didn't catch yourself belting out:

Es war um 1780
Und es war in Wien
No plastic money anymore
Die Banken gegen ihn
Woher die Schulden kamen
War wohl jedermann bekannt
Er war ein Mann der Frauen
Frauen liebten seinen Punk

English:

It was around 1780
And it was in Vienna
No plastic money anymore
The banks against him
From which his debts came
It was common knowledge
He was a women's man
Women loved his punk


Much like Falco in Vienna Calling, I lament:

Vienna, Vienna, only you know me up,
know me down
You know me.
Only Vienna, only Vienna, just you alone
Where have your women gone

He sang. He danced. From Austria, he slicked his hair back like some Viennese Pat Riley. He called himself "Falco", although his given name was Johann Holzel. He was in the process of setting up a new recording studio when he drove into the path of an oncoming bus in 1998. In the Dominican Republic. And he is missed.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

"The Haikster"

My almost six year old daughter is referring to herself as "The Haikster." I asked her if someone gave her that name and she said she had bestowed it upon herself -- except that no one else is allowed to call her by it -- not Mom, Dad, siblings, friends, teachers -- not a soul -- except for "The Haikster". Being curious, I pursued my line of questioning (I am, after all, a lawyer). I inquired as to why no one else can refer to her by her new nickname and she told me, "Because it's kind of dumb. My friends might me call me that name and laugh." My interest piqued even further, I followed up with the question, "Why call yourself by a name you don't like?", which was met with the reply, "I only like it when I say it. I say it cool." Fair enough, Haikster.

U2

I've enjoyed U2's music since I first heard "The Unforgettable Fire" -- I've got a complete collection of their US releases on tape and/or CD. Even when Bono goes over the top, I usually head along for the ride. And so, in chronological order, I present you with my 25 all-time favorite U2 songs.

I Will Follow
I Threw A Brick Through A Window
Sunday Bloody Sunday
New Year's Day
The Unforgettable Fire
Bad
Where the Streets Have No Name
With or Without You
Running To Stand Still
One Tree Hill
Love Rescue Me (w/ Bob Dylan)
All I Want is You (also prominently featured in "Reality Bites" - one of my all-time favorite movies)
One
Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses
Ultraviolet (Light My Way)
Stay (Faraway So Close)
Some Days Are Better Than Others
The Wanderer (w/ Johnny Cash)
Do You Feel Loved?
Staring At the Sun
Elevation
Walk On
Kite
Vertigo
Original of the Species

Monday, November 14, 2005

The Quiet American

"I never knew a man who had better motives for all the trouble he caused."

"Innocence is a kind of insanity." Both quotes from "The Quiet American" by Graham Greene


Just finished Graham Greene's "The Quiet American" and watched the movie (props to Netflix, how did we ever live without it?) with Michael Caine and Brendan Fraser. It's a great read -- suspenseful and filled with Greene's complex moral view. It's also a timely read -- many of the problems Greene identified at the time with French colonialism and American interventionism in Viet Nam read as a "How Not To" that was prescient concerning America's problems and eventual withdrawal in Viet Nam. The book was blasted as anti-American by a number of American critics -- given hindsight, it appears that this was so because while fiction, the book hit pretty close to the mark and seems to have evidenced a greater understanding of the culture and politics of (becoming) post-colonial Viet Nam than the U.S. either possessed or dismissed.

Book's better than the movie -- the movie makes Alden Pyle, the "Quiet American", more of a seasoned CIA operative than the book suggests -- but isn't the book almost always better?

Saturday, November 12, 2005

A Few of My Favorite Cubs

To the Tune of "My Favorite Things"

Ryno and Ernie and Kingman and Trillo
Santo, DeJesus, Bill Buckner and Leo,
Biitner, Mitterwald, Murcer and all of their flubs, these are a few of my favorite Cubs

Tinker to Evers to Chance and then Gabby
Fergie and Sammy and Kerry ain't shabby
Hack Wilson, Kiki and Andre and Riggs for 91 years Wrigley Field's been their digs

When The Cubs stink, which is yearly, and they make me sad,
I just remember my favorite Cubs, and then I don't feel so bad...

American Idol, here I come!

Blogalicious

I'm amped to be blogging again -- seems like a lot my friends and family are doing it -- in particular my lovely wife, at least two C-wns, Jeff and Jon, and Byron P. It's pretty cool to have our own little band of commentators -- I get psyched when I see comments from people I know -- mad props in particular to the Funky Cold Morita, who's been checking in with me more or less since I cranked this up about a year ago. Thing I like most about blogging is that it's therapeutic -- it allows you an unfiltered outlet to just take some of the craziness floating around in your head and organize it -- sometimes you just have to communicate, even if it's to no one in particular. If a blog goes uncommentated (to borrow a word in the vein of Jeff C) upon, is it still worth doing? Absolutely, although comments and common-taters (there I go again Jeff!) egg us on.

I'd like to end with one of my favorite new quotes from my two year old son, who while jammin' to Radio Disney in the car, had the following to tell MC Hammer when Hammer was rapping "U Can't Touch This" -- "Yes, I can touch it." Word.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

And So It Goes

Another day, continued senseless killings in the war between Mecca and Christianity. Random, hateful, anything but the actions of a God-fearing person. There will be no peace in this clash of cultures, religions, however you characterize it until generations are finally brought up looking at their fellow human beings as people rather than demonized caricatures. I do not live in a world without hope, so long as I believe there is a God and do what I can to bear up my brother or sister, but I live in constant fear that my children are going to inherit this world of hate.

How long -- can you hear someone crying
How long -- can you hear someone dying
Before you ask yourself why?
And how long will it be 'till we've turned
To the tasks and the skills
That we'll have to have learned
If we're going to find our place in the future
And have something to offer
Where this planet's concerned
How long?

--Jackson Browne

I'm Old Consarn It!

I typically play basketball on Wednesday nights with an over 30 crowd. Given the fact I'm one of the younger ones at age 34, you'd think I could keep up. I played last night having missed the past few weeks while working out nothing but my fork and spoon, and man was it bad. I was huffin and puffin like the Big Bad Wolf in the middle of a Little Pigs' Townhome Development, all the while getting more and more sore. Woke up last night with a coughing fit brought on by working the lungs too
much, and then woke up with a foot so sore I was bandyleggin' it down the stairs, much to the amusement of my beloved wife.

I know the answer is eat right and get more exercise, but what's the fun in that? The bigger part of the problem is just not accepting I've either got to take it easier, or take better care, such as perhaps stretching beforehand? At any rate, the day after is always amusing for my wife and kids, who find my plight (admittedly brought on myself) quite hilarious. As Dana Carvey's grumpy old man used to say, " I'm old...and I hate it!" (although not really!)

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

The Numa Numa Dance

Quite frankly, along with Dracula, one of the greatest cultural phenomenons (phenomena?) ever to come out of Romania... Ma-ia hii Ma-ia huu indeed.

Dylan (Thomas) and Bob (Robert Frost)

Been feeling literary (as opposed to literate) these last few days. As such, thought I'd share two of my favorite poems, from two of my favorite poets. A bit melancholy, but I was first introduced to the brilliance of Thomas and Frost in high school, a time of emotional extremes. Thomas' poem has particular meaning for me, because I associate it with my father (Thomas wrote it for his), who died of cancer.

Dylan Thomas’ “Do Not Go Gentle into That Good Night”

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.



Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature's first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf's a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

-- Robert Frost

Tuesday, November 08, 2005

Big on the Bard

Awhile back I talked about how much I enjoy Shakespeare. Here a few of my favorite quotes to spark discussion among those in the "love him" camp, and hopefully light a spark in the "those who detest him" camp...

Hamlet

To be, or not to be: that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them?

Now cracks a noble heart. Good night sweet prince:
And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest!

MacBeth

Had I but died an hour before this chance,
I had lived a blessed time; for, from this instant,
There's nothing serious in mortality:
All is but toys: renown and grace is dead;
The wine of life is drawn, and the mere lees
Is left this vault to brag of.

Romeo and Juliet

My only love sprung from my only hate!
Too early seen unknown, and known too late!
Prodigious birth of love it is to me,
That I must love a loathed enemy.

King Lear

I know thee well: a serviceable villain;
As duteous to the vices of thy mistress
As badness would desire.

The Merchant of Venice

The devil can cite Scripture for his purpose.
An evil soul producing holy witness
Is like a villain with a smiling cheek,
A goodly apple rotten at the heart:
O, what a goodly outside falsehood hath!

The Taming of the Shrew

A woman moved is like a fountain troubled,
Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty;
And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty
Will deign to sip or touch one drop of it.

Henry V

And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember'd;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Men's Book Clubs?

I like to read. Just finished E.L. Doctorow's "The March" , "The House of Sand and Fog" and am currently in the middle of Graham Greene's "The Quiet American." My wife asked me a little while ago about Men's Book Clubs. "Men's Book Clubs?", says I, "what an interesting idea." Which is strange, because I have quite a few male friends and family members that also like to read, but the only book clubs I know of, are women's book clubs (of which my wife belongs to two). This can't be a "novel" idea, but I'd like to think I live in a relatively happenin' (not to mention pregressive) burg filled with metrosexual male types, and this seemed like an entirely original idea to me. Why is this? Is it because the male archetype is the strong silent type and book clubs involve too much "sharing." Don't really think so. So why not a men's book club? Maybe I'm on to something here!

Saturday, November 05, 2005

Musings on the White Sox, Cubs

To paraphrase St. Paul, when I was child, I thought, acted and behaved like a child. When I became a man, I put away childish things... Almost. When I was kid, I loved the Cubs as much as I absolutely loathed the White Sox. Chicago definitely wasn't big enough for the both of them. As I've gotten older, I've mellowed somewhat on the Sox loathing -- I can treat them like any other baseball team that's not the Cubs -- I appreciate good baseball wherever and whoever plays it, just not when you're playing my team.

The World Series however, awakened some of those old feelings, likely out of envy -- now the Cubs have everyone beat by at least 40 years with respect to not winning a title. I found myself hoping that someone, anyone, would put a stop to the Sox's postseason march, just because the rabid Sox fan can't be content to enjoy their team's victory, they've got to rub it in the face of Cubs Nation as well.

The truth is however, that while I'll never be a Sox fan, I enjoyed the way this team played baseball in 2005 -- you can't be a baseball fan and not appreciate the way these guys came to play every day. Sure beats listening to the same tired excuses on the North Side week in and week out. And maybe this lights a fire at Wrigley -- maybe the Cubs'll take a chance or two to put an end to their fans' misery. Gotta believe that glass is half full...