20 posts from August 2009

I haven't watched late-night television in a long time, but I have fond memories of The Tonight Show.  When I was just a little kid, I used to stay up and watch through the railing of the loft of my grandparents' cottage in Michigan, trying not to chuckle and give away to the adults that I was still awake.  And I didn't know it then, but now I agree one hundred percent with Chuck Klosterman's assessment that Johnny Carson was the last celebrity to which literally everyone in America will be able to relate.  The man was a genius - as much so as Jay Leno isn't.

I had high hopes when Conan O'Brien took over the reins of The Tonight Show earlier this year.  Anyone who knows anything knows Conan is light-years funnier than Jay.  [I don't think comedy can be measured in light-years.  -Ed.]  Unfortunately, Conan has struggled in the ratings.  From what I hear, at least.  I haven't actually bothered to stay up to watch.  More clips like this would help, though.  Television blogger Matt Ufford is right: the animal handlers were always comedy gold, and this one doesn't disappoint.  If they could find a way to let me know beforehand if Conan gets bitten in the face by something deadly, that would be great.  I'd lose a little sleep to see that.

We sure do write a lot of birthday posts in August.  That's only one of the reasons it's our least favorite month of the year.  Nothing about our nieces or nephew, of course. We just don't like thinking about birthdays this frequently.  And so, we wrap up the dog days of summer with special birthday wishes to Scottie.  He turns three today.  Happy birthday, Scottie!  Don't let your big sis push you around.
 

There was a small change at Hotrod.vox.com this afternoon.  You probably didn't notice, so I'll just tell you.  One of the links over there on the left used to say "Marine Corps Marathon."  Now it says "Rock 'N' Roll Marathon."  I officially signed up this morning.  Let's hope I make it further than six miles this time 'round.

My ankle has been much better lately.  I started using only one crutch last week, and now I'm skipping the crutches altogether when hobbling around the office.  This afternoon I walked five or six blocks for chinese food without the crutches.  That may not seem like much, but it's the longest I've walked unaided in well over a month.  And best of all, my leg wasn't screaming at me all afternoon.  I'm beginning to see a light at the end of the tunnel - and just in time for the Autumn of Hotrod.

Official training begins September 19, but my physical therapist says I should be able to start running again earlier than that.  I sure hope so.  I never thought I'd say it, but I'm looking forward to running again.  Oh, and that link I mentioned?  It goes to my fundraising page.  Feel free to check it out if curing cancer is something you might be into.

A little over a week ago, when I wrote my last birthday post, I considered looking for a video of Patton Oswalt's bit about birthdays you get to celebrate.  It's genius.  And the strangest thing is I came up with the exact same list of birthdays completely independently.  I formed my argument years ago (the birthday subset is entries #14 through #29 of Hotrod's Rules for Life) before I had ever heard of Patton Oswalt, so I obviously wasn't influenced by his bit.  And I've never met the man, so the chances he stole my idea is equally unlikely.  I would say that the fact that he and I came to the same conclusion is improbable, except it isn't.  Sane people realize this is how the world is supposed to work.  You know that saying that goes: "It's funny 'cause it's true."  Well, that's why all those people in the clip below are laughing.

Anyway, I would have posted the video last week, but I was lazy and didn't feeling like undertaking the ordeal of a Google search.  As luck would have it, I came across it again by chance yesterday.  The timing couldn't have been better.  I've got another birthday to celebrate today.  Midge turns four, so she gets a birthday.  Even I wouldn't deny a little kid her birthday.  I'm no monster.  Happy birthday, Midge!
 

A couple hours ago, I was hobbling out of FedEx Field wearing my Polamalu jersey.  A gentleman walking next to me said, "Meaning no disrespect, that's kind of symbolic, isn't it?"  "What is?" I asked, and he gestured toward my crutches.  I could hardly believe it.  "These?  It's symbolic I'm physically limping out of here after a preseason loss?"

In hindsight, I guess I understand a little bit better.  For the Steelers, this was just a normal preseason football game.  The starters played a quarter and hoped they didn't get hurt.  Sixty other guys battled for what will amount to maybe five open spots on the team.  The vanilla game plan was designed less to put points on the board than to avoid giving nothing away.  But for the ***skins this was the most important game of their season.  This was their Super Bowl, since there's no chance they will make it to the real one.  And yes, the ***skins and their fans can say they beat the World Champions.  Congrats, ***skins fans.  I hope this hollow victory is some comfort in January.

I wasn't quite as psyched as I should have been for this game.  It started pouring here about a half-hour before my ride was to pick me up, and it continued raining heavily all the way to the stadium.  But as it turned out, we were pretty lucky with the weather.  Or as lucky as is possible given an 80% chance of thunderstorms.  The rain halted as we pulled into the parking lot, and during the respite, we were able to get our tent and grill set up.  It began raining again at about the time we started the burgers cooking, and continued until shortly after we found our seats.  And then it was fine for the rest of the game until final two-minute warning.  Things definitely could have been worse. Our seats were in the fourth row from the field at the five yard line.  They weren't the best for actually watching  football, but they were outstanding for watching the ***skins cheerleaders.  Which reminds me - I'd like to introduce yinz to the new lady in my life.  Her name is Sheridan.  We met in the third quarter.  I've never believed in love at first sight, but she swears that's what she felt when she saw me in the stands.

Well, lookee here: we made the [music is good] page.  Again.  This time it was for our insightful commentary on Weezer and the Replacements' legacy in the annals of rock history.  We're surprised - not to mention honored and flattered - to be featured by the good people at Vox so soon after our last fleeting moment in the sun.  But then, we can hardly blame them for recognizing greatness when they see it.  We should totally become, like, a professional blogger or something.

I was late to the Weezer bandwagon.  Way late.  Like, 2009 late.  Sure, I'd heard the requisite cuts off the Blue Album, and "Say It Ain't So" was a staple of the rotation when the Mighty Roy and I put a twenty into the jukebox at Bardo Rodeo to commandeer it for the evening way back in '96.  But I didn't actually buy the Blue Album until a couple of years ago.  And my second purchase was earlier this year, when I decided I should finally give Pinkerton a listen.  On M-----l's suggestion, I picked up the Green Album within the past couple of weeks.  Those are the only records of theirs I own.

I think I owe it to myself, though, to fill out the Weezer section in my collection.  The first single from their forthcoming record (the awesomely titled Raditude) hit the internets this week.  I've listened to it about a hundred times since Tuesday.  It's the most infectious piece of bubble-gum pop/rock I've heard since....  I don't know what.

My favorite thing about Weezer - the reason I need the four records I don't already own - is that unlike virtually every other band in existence, they've become less serious and self-important as they get older.  I mean, Rivers Coumo is pushing forty now, and he's singing about watching Titanic with his girlfriend and meeting her parents.  Their last single was called "Pork and Beans."  Two other songs expected to be on the new release are called "I'm Your Daddy" and "The Girl Got Hot," which earned the scorn of sticks-in-the-mud like that chick from Sleater-Kinney.  Weezer has successfully transitioned from emo to full-on joke-rock.  And frankly, we needed another great joke-rock band.  It's been a long, long time since the Replacements called it quits.

I went to Chipotle for lunch.  I ordered a steak burrito, but by the time it got down to the end of the counter it had been marked as chicken.  I neglected to mention this oversight and pocketed the forty cent difference.  I don't feel guilty.  Even now, with this post, I laugh in the face of justice.  "HA HA!  Come and get me, coppers!" is what I might exclaim if I were a gangster from the 1930's.

I also took a whole mess of napkins.

It's a common misconception that I dislike birthdays.  I think birthdays - parties, presents, cake and ice cream, the whole shebang - are swell.  For children.  Adults, not so much.  Birthday celebrations are for children.  That's why it gives me great joy to wish Rushmore a very happy birthday.  She's one of my three favorite nieces, and she turns six years old today.  For birthdays, that's pretty much the sweet spot.  Happy birthday, Rushmore!  I hope it's been a great one!
 

I took a fair amount of abuse in the early part of this year for failing to live up to my duties in stoking the KttD hype machine.  The abuse was unjustified.  Not because I was dispatching my quota of propaganda, mind you, but because my record at the time had been above reproach.  And I was distracted.  But I've got no excuse this time.

Yesterday marked the beginning of the traditional six-month countdown to the triumphant tenth edition of Karaoke to the Death - KttD X: KttDuets.  And I missed it.  I shouldn't have, but I did.  I even thought about it earlier in the week and made a mental note not to forget.  Which, of course, I forgot anyway.  This is an inauspicious beginning to what promises to be the best karaoke season yet.  I'd be more bothered by it, though, if I didn't know Dabysan was completely unaware.

So yeah - yinz got six months from yesterday to make your travel arrangements, an' 'at.  Excelsior!