Let's Not Overstate the Case

applelogo
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

It's admittedly been a few years since I've held what people consider to be "a real job." But during my eight-year reign as an underpaid soul-renter, I dealt with an inordinate number of IT workers.

Entering the workforce in 1994, I worked jobs that used DOS-system PC clones. Then in '95, of course, Microsoft brought us Windows 95, which stunned the world by turning PC's into Macs circa 1986. Microsoft finally seemed to get Windows 95 right by 1997, when they introduced the next generation of glitchy operating systems, Windows 98. But I digress...

IT support people (and let me just say to those IT people who read B&E, obviously, I don't mean you)...

The best IT guy I worked with was the biggest asshole I ever met. It was fortunate that he liked me, but he wielded his knowledge/power with the subtlety of an Oliver Stone movie. But at least he got shit done and knew more than me.

Beyond him, most of my experience with IT folks was nothing but a smokescreen. Idiots who behaved like assholes to cover for their incompetence.

The one exception to this was the nicest lady in the world, who just couldn't keep up with the advances of the industry, which in 1996, you may recall, was advancing at lightspeed. The poor woman didn't know what she was doing, she knew it, and she didn't try to hide it. She was probably an amazing IT person in the early 80s.

So last week my computer died. Just went blank while working. Since switching to Mac just over a year ago, I got cocky and stopped backing things up regularly. I've even seen a few Macs crash, so I knew it happened.

For help, I went to New York's Apple Store. On a typical midday, this place is a freakin' zoo. During the drop-in period, from 6-8am (I went on a Saturday), it was quiet and lovely. For support, you go to their "Genius Bar."

In the context of my experience with IT people, the last thing tech support people need is a superiority complex with a title like "genius." But the all-black-wearing hipster-geeks (with a few genuine geeks thrown in for authenticity) are actually called "geniuses." So when you check in, the administrator says something like, "One of our geniuses will be right with you."

Dude. Seriously. Dude.

I was first on the waiting list, impressed with how many people drop in to the Genius Bar before 7am on a Saturday. It seemed mostly to be iPod difficulties, and the hipster-geeks took on most of those. The guy who ended up helping me was one of the genuine geeks, who clearly take care of the machines more complex than an iPod.

Like most computer experts (he must prove the "genius" title before I call him that), his social skills were awkward but not impolite. While he was working on my machine, he was also listening in to the conversations around him and giving his two cents here and there. He always seemed to be right, which I found reassuring.

So when he told me my data was fine, it was a weight off my shoulders. There was really just one truly irreplacable file. Recreating nearly 90 pages of a heavily researched script would've been a goddamn nightmare. But the dude (a genius?) told me that when I get my computer back, all will be just as I left it.

Wait. When I get it back? How long will I be without it? 7-10 days. By the time I buy an external hard drive, rent space on the Apple server for data backup, and pay for the repair, I'm gonna be out nearly $600.

Knowledgeable, yes. Kind, yes. But a genius? I don't know, man. Seems to me that a true genius would've been able to fix my iBook on the spot, and for free, while using his third hand to make me the best goddamned cup of coffee I've ever had and telekinetically sending jokes to my brain to keep me amused while he worked.

I mean, really. It should take A LOT to be considered a genius.

A Crappy Day

Yesterday, I woke up with a migraine. Then my computer died. Then I got food poisoning.

Sometimes it's very hard being me.

Harriet Miers Is Called Out Sliding Into Second

She really shouldn't have tried to stretch that weak dribbler to the mound into a double. And, of course, she had no business stepping up to the plate in the first place.

Maybe he'll be too gracious to give us an I Told You So, but I believe the first prediction that Harriet would withdraw came from Titivil. It took more than a couple of days, but well done, sir.

Comparing the Miers' withdrawal to baseball is courtesy of last night's final World Series game, which the Astros lost 1-0. So the Chisox win it all, and while I'm happy for them and Chicago and all that crap, I'm mad at the Astros for not making it more of a contest.

Is it time for spring training yet?

They're Everywhere!

snakehead
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Remember the snakehead?

While the eastern seaboard was getting its forty days and forty nights of rain earlier in the month (that's right: 40 days earlier in the month), flooded dams were revealing migrating snakeheads in the DC area.

And I don't mean Republicans running from indictments. I'm talking about fish of pure evil. Snakeheads attack toddlers and, after they've had them for tea, they regurgitate said toddlers and attack again!

At least that will be the story soon. In the meantime, there's just a shitload of predatory fish in the Potomac River, fish that want nothing more than to take over our ecosystem.

I'd like to highlight one detail from the Washington Post article, if I may. The fishermen report that while snakeheads may not be able to walk very well, they do remain upright when not in water. And as one of the fishermen said, "We would throw one in the cooler, two others would jump out and we'd have to chase them through the woods."

Dude, if you're chasing fish through the woods, they're walking just fine.

This story was brought to my attention by blondandeffective, who is moving to Egypt in a few months. She claims it's because of a boy, but I suspect that, really, she just wants to get away from the snakeheads.

Man, I'm Tired

I'm getting everything I want from this World Series. Except an outcome. The Astros can't seem to get the big hit, make the big play, get the big win, and after last night's marathon, they're down a nearly insurmountable three-games-to-none.

Still, these games have been great, and apparently, millions fewer are watching this year's World Series over last year's, in which the Red Sox barreled over the Cardinals without so much as a hiccup of drama.

The missus will be relieved when baseball season's over. She woke up this morning, and I still wasn't in bed, as last night's game was entering the 243rd inning.

Dickhead of the Week - Ted Stevens

senatorted
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Congratulations to Alaska Senator Ted Stevens, who gets his second Dickhead of the Week Award. Taking the compassion out of compassionate conservatism, Teddy has threatened to resign if any of the money from the fatty transportation bill is taken from his pet projects (including the "Bridge to Nowhere") to help rebuild New Orleans. And he insists that he's not bluffing.

Four villages in northern Alaska are making plans to evacuate, as the Arctic melts and waters rise, and yet Teddy refuses to acknowledge global warming, and has been fighting for years to open up the Arctic refuge to drilling, a fight he seems poised finally to win. He's also a major proponent of extending the reach of the FCC to cover cable and even satellite radio and television. Seriously, this guy's a real Dickhead.

As president pro tempore of the Senate, Ted's third in the line of succession after the VP and Speaker of the House. So, uh, why aren't we graciously accepting his resignation and adding about a half billion dollars to the Gulf Coast recovery effort?

In other Alaska political news... Alaskan Congressman Don Young, this week's Runner-Up Dickhead, upon hearing that many of his constituents would rather help the people of New Orleans than build a useless bridge, responded with the empathetic words, "They can kiss my ear. That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

It's Official

hackett2
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Some of you may remember my writing about Paul Hackett, the Iraq War veteran and Democrat who ran for Congress. He made a good run of it in a heavily Republican district, but ultimately lost.

The House's loss might just be the Senate's gain. Not altogether unexpectedly, Hackett's officially announced that he's running for Senator.

I don't know much about his opponent in the primary, but whoever is victorious needs to be ready to run against an extremist Dickhead: Mike DeWine. Man, those capital-d-lowercase-e-capital-whatever names are clearly trouble.

Holy Shit!

pods
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

While I totally want the Astros to beat the White Sox, I can't tell you how happy I am to be watching such great baseball in the World Series.

I mean, come on, people. Last night's game? The Astros come back to tie a game in the 9th inning, facing a pitcher who throws 100 miles an hour. Astros Manager Phil Garner has Jose Vizcaino pinch-hit, and the old guy slaps the game-tying single in a play that also featured a spectacular slide into home, which could've just as easily been the final out of the game.

AND THEN, in the bottom of the 9th, Scott Podsednik, who hit exactly zero home runs in the regular season, hits a walk-off to give the ChiSox a 2-0 series lead.

If you can watch these games and not enjoy them, well, frankly, I don't think we can be friends anymore. Fuckin' A, I love baseball.

The Fuck Are You Smiling At?

delaymug
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Tom "The Trial I Must" DeLay is asking for a new judge because the current guy's a Democrat. You see, Democrats can't be impartial.

Meanwhile, to keep his enemies from having any political fodder, The Hammer smiled for his mugshot. I don't really understand why this offers less fodder. The mugshot's hilarious. And he looks as happy as I feel about his indictment.

Maybe they call him The Hammer because he's a fucking tool.

Stupid Sport Similes

frednbarney
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

I really enjoy reading the sports pages. As I've said before, jocks are stupid assholes, so a dumb quote or a ridiculous anecdote can make me feel superior, since I can't hit a ball over the centerfield fence or throw a split-fingered fastball.

Every once in a while I'm amazed by idiotic sports writing, although I guess I shouldn't be, since many sports writers are really just failed or wannabe jocks. Still, one would think that from the New York Times, generally considered to be the Best Newspaper in the World, one could count on superior sports writing. But Jack Curry wrote something in today's paper that I flat-out don't get. It either makes no sense or proves that I'm a fucking idiot. Here's the quote...

"In some ways, Clemens, a bigger-than-Texas right-hander, and Pettitte, a spiritual left-hander, are like... Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble. But unlike those comedic characters, Clemens and Pettitte have not been stumbling along to the accompaniment of a 30-minute laugh track."

And that's it. No explanation for the comparison. OK, so Fred Flintstone was a big guy. But was he right-handed? And was Barney spiritual? And left-handed? If this does actually make sense, and I'm a fucking idiot, could someone please explain the simile? Thanks.

Dastardly Neighbors

For those of you unfamiliar with parking cars in NYC, there's this concept referred to as "Alternate Side Parking." For a few hours on certain days, one side of the street needs to be cleared for street cleaning. In Manhattan this happens several times a week. In Queens it's just once a week. On one side of my street, for example, there's no parking from 9:30-11:00am on Thursdays. On the other side of the street, no parking from 9:30-11:00am on Fridays. So if you rarely use your car, you still have to move it at least once a week.

For some, Alternate Side Parking is an opportunity to get your car closer to your apartment. The whole street is clear, so you've got your choice. But you have to sit in your car for that hour and a half in case the traffic cop or street cleaner shows up. Then you pull around the block back into the same space. Simple enough.

Parking in Queens is nothing on parking in Manhattan, but still, my street starts to fill up around 10:30am, and then people wait, sometimes having conversations with their fellow parkers until 11:00am, when it's safe to leave their cars for another week. Others bring a book or magazine and a cup of coffee and just sit there. This morning, I took out my laptop and got some pretty good work done on a script I'm writing.

I was parked as close to a yellow line as I could be, near a hydrant. The next space beyond the hydrant was actually being blocked by a woman cleaning up leaves from one of Sunnyside's autumn trees. She was working excruciatingly slowly, and during the half hour I sat there, at least three cars pulled up to where she was working. She didn't even acknowledge their presence, as she slowly swept and bagged leaves. Each car eventually gave up and looked for another space.

Finally, her daughter pulls up and the woman moves. The leaf bagging was all a ruse. She was simply saving a parking spot.

Caught Up Again

newoldastroscap
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

So while a Senate panel approves drilling in the arctic, Harriet Miers is forced into a do-over, Condi Rice offers no comfort where Iraq is concerned, and prosecutor Patrick Fitzgerald figures out what indictments to hand down and to whom, I'm totally caught up in the team that broke my heart repeatedly as a child.

After Albert Pujols' crushed his game-winning home run in Monday night's game, I must admit that I feared the worst and lost hope. But the Astros bounced back and trounced the Cards in game six. The Astros (who for many years were "my Astros") are headed to the World Series for the first time in their 44 year history.

I got my wish: the Not-Since-1917's vs. the Never-Befores. It'll be heartbreaking to see either of these teams lose the World Series.

But here's my new hope (a.k.a. Star Wars): If somehow Roger Clemens could lose while the Astros win, that would be ideal. But I hope the Astros take it in seven.

Saving Face on DVD - A Shill

savingfacedvd
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Those of you in places that didn't benefit from a theatrical release of my friend Alice's film (or otherwise missed it in theaters) will be pleased to learn that Saving Face is now available on DVD.

There's a director's commentary, deleted scenes, and a couple of featurettes, so buy it from Amazon or put it at the top of your Netflix queue today. It will please you.

Feelin' a Little Less Groovy

queensboro bridge
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

The whole city has slowed down. It was moving too fast to deal with the four-alarm fire on the 59th Street Bridge today.

Fortunately, there are no reports of injuries, so while travelers between Manhattan and Queens may not be feelin' too groovy this afternoon, in the near future, we hope to go back to kickin' down the cobblestones and lookin' for fun.

Dickhead of the Week - Jerry Kilgore

kilgore
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Jerry "I Want To" Kilgore is currently running for governor of Virginia against Tim Kaine. TV spots, like so much of TV, are aiming for the lowest common denominator. And as we all know, the lowest common denominator is Adolph Hitler.

In one ad, Jerry himself sites a local column that suggested Tim Kaine wouldn't favor sending even Hitler, Josef Stalin, or Idi Amin to the gallows.

In another, a proponent of the death penalty looks directly into the camera and says, "Tim Kaine says Adolf Hitler doesn't qualify for the death penalty. This was one of the worst mass murderers in modern times."

Meanwhile, Kaine (not the same one that killed his brother) is taking it like a typical Democrat. Rather than attacking Kilgore right back, questioning the morals of a man that would trivialize Hitler's atrocities, he's holding up his hands, "No, but, you see, I'm Roman Catholic. That's why I'm against the death penalty. But, you know, still, if the law requires me to kill some bad people, I will carry out my duty. Heh. I just said, 'duty.'" Kaine might as well be asking, "Please, sir, may I have another? I promise not to bruise so easily next time."

In fact, Kaine's response pisses me off almost as much as Kilgore's ads. But Kilgore is this week's Dickhead because he started it, and I'm rubber you're glue whatever you say bounces off me and sticks to you nanny nanny boo boo.

I'm Eight Again. And Fourteen.

oldastroslogo
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

I just watched the Astros get one strike from going to their first ever World Series before a two-out single from David Eckstein, followed by a walk from Jim Edmonds, followed by a monstrous home run by Albert Pujols doomed my former team-of-choice.

I'm shockingly disappointed. I'm back in 1980, heartbroken with a team beaten by the Phillies in all those damned extra inning games. It's 1986 and the Mets (my current team-of-choice) have stolen the National League Championship Series from my boys in six games. Mike Scott just couldn't pitch every game.

Here in 2005 the Astros have two more games in which to beat the Cardinals. But my 1980 and 1986 selves have no hope for the former inhabitants of the Astrodome, a.k.a. the 8th Wonder of the World.

Back from Rainy Mainey

They went through with it. Noah and Jane are now married. And other than the pissing down of rain, Maine was nice. The missus and I stopped off at the LL Bean store in Freeport, and you might be surprised to learn that LL Bean shoppers are exclusively white.

Steinbrenner Blew It

contreras
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

That George Steinbrenner loves the big-name pitchers - Randy Johnson, Kevin Brown, Carl Pavano, Jared Wright, Mike Mussina - and has paid mightily for them. And not just in coin.

The White Sox are on their way to the World Series, riding on the raft of Cuban pitchers. Jose Contreras pitched a complete game to clinch the series victory, and Orlando Hernandez has posted an ERA of .000 in the playoffs. Steinbrenner forced both of these pitchers to defect from the Yankees.

Meanwhile, in the National League Championship Series, the Astros lead the Cardinals three games to one. Two of their three star pitchers? Former Yankees again - Roger Clemens (who I still think is a Dickhead, if not Dickhead of the Week) and Andy Pettitte, who really loves Jesus Christ. Steinbrenner facilitated their exit nicely as well, disrespecting Andy with a low-ball offer, who then went to the Astros and enticed Roger, who'd been retired just long enough for George to allow his contract to expire, to join the team.

These four guys were all pitching for the Yankees in 2003. Nice work, George.

Dude.

The Angels just got screwed out of game two. I want the Chisox to win this series, but not because the umpires blow a call. Sorry, Hollywood Max. Your boys got fucked tonight.

Off to Rainy Mainey

noahjane
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

I will be bald and ineffective over the next few days, as the missus and I head to Maine to attend the wedding of the couple pictured to the right. For those of you who know Noah, you might be chuckling to yourselves. Noah? Married? Yes, it's true.

One quick Noah story before I go...

Twelve years ago, Noah was among a group of four of us that did the whole Eurorail pass thing that so many tacky college-aged Americans do. Our plan was to meet Noah in Amsterdam.

There are two things worth noting about Noah at this point. He can get very caught up in what he's doing, causing him to be, well, flaky. Also, he can charm the pants off a nun. When we arrived in Amsterdam, we felt fairly certain that Noah wouldn't be there.

At the arranged meeting place, we looked around. No sign of Noah, so we approached the bartender, "We're looking for a guy named Noah?" From behind us we hear, "You guys know Noah? Hey! These guys know Noah!"

Noah had been in Amsterdam less than 24 hours.

Yes, it should be a good wedding. We do, after all, know Noah.

Being Bald = Being Loved

Just ask the monkey.

The Embracing of a Fallen Soldier

By now, we all know the story of Pat Tillman - pro football player turned soldier, killed in a friendly fire accident in Afghanistan. Pro-war hawks have been making sweet, sweet love to the image of this guy ever since he made the salary sacrifice to become a soldier and especially after he made the Ultimate Sacrifice in the War on Terror.

Turns out that Pat was a little more complicated than the turkeys in the Bush administration had hoped. He was not only a Pro-Bowler who put his young career on hold (permanently as it turned out), but he was also a critic of the war in Iraq and a fan of Chomsky. That the chicken hawks continue to use the memory of Pat Tillman to their advantage is pissing off the Tillman family.

I love a good PR victory, and the left, led by the feckless Democratic Party, rarely wins one. But I'd suggest a little caution when it comes to exploiting a death. If the Tillmans decide to join Cindy Sheehan among the growing number of military families to stand up against the war, great. But people are often more complicated than politics and PR allow, and the death of a loved one is a private matter. So maybe the Tillmans should decide how to honor Pat before we make him a poster child of the anti-war movement.

Down to Four

The Yanks made it interesting in the ninth, but the Halos held on to become the last team to qualify for the League Championship Series. So it's now Astros v. Cardinals and White Sox v. Angels.

What I predict (revised):
Cardinals v. Angels in the World Series with the Cardinals triumphant.

What I hope (revised):
Astros v. White Sox in the World Series. I lean toward a White Sox victory at the moment, but only because I enjoy watching Roger Clemens lose. If he could get shelled in his two starts, and the Astros could still win, that'd be ideal.

By the way, the grand slam home run ball Lance Berkman hit in the 8th inning against the Braves was caught by a fella named Shaun Dean. Ten innings later, when Chris Burke hit the series-winner, Shaun caught that one, too. Dude. Seriously. Dude.

Dickhead of the Week - James Dobson

dobson
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

As founder of Focus on the Family, James "Jimmy-Dob" Dobson hates Darwin, a woman's right to choose, and queers (even though he's currently in bed with our Commander-in-Chief).

So when Jimmy-Dob says that he's been given "reassurances" about Harriet Miers from certain Mother Dickheads inside the White House, the Senate Judiciary Committee listens. Arlen Specter seems a bit personally miffed that Jimmy-Dob might know more about Harriet than he does and might just call the Dickhead before the committee to testify under oath.

That Jimmy-Dob's taking to the airwaves this week to "clarify" what he knows leads me to believe that he doesn't want to be under oath in front of the Senate. Radio is, after all, a convenient tool for the religious right, a place they can spin and lie without having sworn to tell the truth over the Holy Bible. There's no risk of perjury on the radio. And this, in turn, got me wondering if Jimmy-Dob's been lying about his conversation with the Mother Dickhead.

I just couldn't figure out what his motivation for lying about such a thing might have been. And I suspect I couldn't figure it out because it's hard for me to think like a right-wing freak.

But from Jimmy-Dob's perspective, he's losing his battle of the courts. It's very hard to see from a liberal point-of-view, but after all the money Focus on the Family has raised and put into court battles, if Harriet isn't a right-wing fringe nominee, Jimmy-Dob is a distinct failure. Over at the HuffPost, Max Blumenthal theorizes about this and other possible motivations this week's Dickhead has to lie.

Naturally, it's also possible that Boba Rove did reassure Jimmy-Dob by sharing some of Harriet's personal political views, and if this is the case, Dobson's simply the Eldest Dickheaded Son of a Mother Dickhead.

Literary Rainfall

Friday
It's raining. Boy, is it raining.

We get a late start heading up to Vermont for the Brattleboro Literary Festival. The rain makes it a slow trip, and several accidents make it even slower.

Saturday
We get to Hall Farm around 1:00am, and rise a little less than six hours later. It seems to be raining even harder it was during the drive up, if that's possible. There are a few of us staying at the Farm, and we have a perfectly pleasant breakfast before heading into Brattleboro.

latchis
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

The Latchis is a great art deco building in the heart of downtown. The ornate theater inside has the astrological signs painted on the ceiling and crazy Victorian murals on the walls. It seats about 800, I think, and is packed with people hungry to see and hear John Irving. In his introduction, we learn that Mr. Irving was inducted into the national wrestling hall of fame in 1992. Maybe that explains his well-balanced, muscular prose. I've never read any John Irving, so I have no way of knowing if that's actually true.

Irving reads a chapter from his current novel-in-progress. About loggers. Without sounding like he's making a disclaimer, he tells us that this chapter will go through hundreds of revisions in the next four or five years, when the novel finally gets published. That he would share a work-in-progress shows off the size of his brass balls. He's got a good reading voice, fairly soothing, so he scares the bejesus out of the whole theater, when he screams a bit of dialogue in character.

The Q&A is even better. He gives interesting answers to even the dullest of questions. We learn that he's obsessive-compulsive, and that he does most of his writing long hand, often standing while he writes. He also hates Ernest Hemingway, about whom he complains, "If you want to write such short sentences, why not write ad copy?"

It takes us a while to clear out of the Latchis, especially with all the people waiting to have their books signed by Irving, and we're trying to get to the next event quickly. It's still raining like a motherfucker, and even in my super-raincoat, I manage to get pretty wet.

Dave Isay is founder of StoryCorps (among many other things) on NPR. What began as a booth in Grand Central Station in which two people interview one another has expanded into two additional traveling studios currently working their way across the country. Today, he's giving a talk at the Centre Congregational Church.

christrules

At breakfast, for reasons far too complicated to explain, I had sung a rendition of the hymn "Crown Him With Many Crowns." Centre Congregational is part of the United Church of Christ. It's a hippie church, all-inclusive. So in their hippie hymnal, "Crown Him With Many Crowns" has become "Crown With Your Richest Crowns." Same tune, though. The hymn on the facing page is called "Eternal Christ, You Rule," and dude, He totally does.

Isay's work is amazing. He's got the whole place weeping in a matter of minutes, as he plays some of the interviews they've collected over the past few years. Something unexplainable happens when two people are alone in a studio with microphones. The honesty is disarming. Isay had given a talk at Marlboro College the day before, and we find out later that he took it easy on us. He could've made us all cry a lot harder. We're all pretty much a wreck by the time he's done, and we recover slightly, but not completely, over lunch.

There are certainly authors worth seeing in the afternoon, but between the late-night arrival and getting our emotional asses kicked by Dave Isay, we're feeling pretty wiped out. After a little bit of shopping, we head to the car and take a nap. We do a little more shopping after (one of the big reasons for the Festival, after all, is the economic revitalization of downtown Brattleboro), and I get two pairs of pants. Except for a pair of jeans, I think these are the first clothes I buy in five years. My wedding outfit was a gift, as was the suit for my father's funeral, so those don't count.

We feel done for the day. The trip was worth making for Dave Isay alone, and the rain is getting to be somewhat prohibitive to enjoyment. We drive back to the Farm and venture out one more time for dinner at the Townshend Inn. The owner is a great chef and one of the hapless McNeill's Brewers in the Connecticut River Valley Baseball League. When we return to the Farm, we're pleased to find a fire raging, and we all sit around, drying out and warming up, while discussing fisher cats.

Sunday
Allowing ourselves a little lie-in, we get a late start, which is rewarded by Hall Farm director, Phil, who makes us pancakes. We make a half-hearted attempt to get to Stephen Greenblatt, author of Will in the World: How Shakespeare Became Shakespeare, but between getting our crap together to leave and stopping off for gas, we're a little too late.

banner

The rain has continued through the night. I don't think I've ever seen rain that hard last that long. It's pretty much done by morning, but when we get to our next event (after a little more shopping), we learn that poet Maxine Kumin was unable to get to Brattleboro from her home in New Hampshire, where the governor has declared a state of emergency. Not being familiar with Ms. Kumin's work at all, I'm of the opinion that this has turned out to be a blessing. She had been part of a double-bill with Dunya Mikhail, an exiled Iraqi poet, who instead gets the full hour to herself. And what an hour. She invites the audience to ask questions between poems if we're so inclined, which leads to a really low-key, unassuming event. Her feelings about Iraq are beyond complex. She went into exile because some of her most voracious readers were a part of the Saddam Hussein regime. Not the best audience for a political poet. She tells us of a friend who was angry with her for leaving her country, that as bad as Saddam was, she should stand with Iraq. Since the American invasion her friend has left Iraq. When someone asks what should be done in her country, she says simply, "I don't know." She feels her country is cursed. Things there have always been bad.

We get lunch, do a bit more shopping, and come back to New York. A whirlwind of a weekend, but quite a good one, even with the heavy rains.

Great Game. Too Bad About the Jerseys.

retroastros
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

It took 18 innings, but the Astros prevailed, beating the Braves in the longest game in post-season history. It also featured a grand slam from both teams, and in a typical post-season choke, the Braves lost despite being up 6-1 in the 8th inning. I hate the Braves and their fucking tomahawk chop. I used to love the Astros.

When my family lived in the Houston area, the Astros had the best damned uniforms in the world. In fact, the classic jersey is so bright and so tacky, it's made a resurgence among the hip-hop boys in the New York City subway. Over the years, my interest in the team has dulled right along with the the colors on their uniforms. But in the days of Terry Puhl, Enos Cabell, JR Richard, Cesar Cedeno, Alan Ashby, Craig Reynolds, Bob Watson, and Jose Cruz (and yes, I could keep going, including, of course, manager Bill Virdon), the Astros were my team, and their uniforms totally ruled.

An expansion team in 1961 (as the Houston Colt .45's), the Astros have never won a World Series. So come on, people. Let's root, root, root for the Astros and the White Sox to meet in the Series. The Yanks, Cards, and Halos have had their recent-enough victories. Spread the wealth. Keep baseball as interesting as the classic Astros jersey.

Brattleboro Literary Festival - A Shill

books
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

If you find yourselves within the vicinity of southeastern Vermont this weekend (and want to duck inside out of the forecasted rain), come to downtown Brattleboro for the 4th annual Brattleboro Literary Festival.

I'm planning to see John Irving, Iraqi-exiled poet Dunya Mikhail, Andrea Barrett, and NPR's Dave Isay. I also have a special bone to pick with Katherine Paterson, who made me cry for two weeks after I read Bridge to Terabithia when I was eleven.

Yes, there will be books; there will be authors; and this being Vermont, there will be hippies. Come enjoy them all.

It's Friday, Everyone!

And there are a few things in the news that on a normal day I might say more on (heh, I said, "moron"), but today will have to be a series of bullet points, because there's just too damned much...

- We've apparently got ourselves some kind of threat against our subway system here in New York. New York officials say it's real without telling us what it is (although it apparently has to do with a bomb in a baby carriage -- stupid babies), while those laid back officials in Washington are all, "What me, worry?"

- Mother Dickhead/Boba Rove is being called to testify in front of the grand jury again. Is that blood I smell?

- Yankees/Angels are tied at 1-1; Astros/Braves are at 1-1, as well; the Chisox are up 2-0 over the Bosox; and the Cards are up 2-0 over the Padres. There's been little drama so far, but boy, I do love the post-season baseball.

- Some things never get old.

- Keeping the ten commandments out of courts and intelligent design out of schools is important to me because I feel they represent some important steps down a slippery slope of right-wing freakdom taking over our fine government. But a couple of smart people make one of the best rational arguments in favor of the separation of church and state I've ever read. And with such level-headedness. (That link may be subscription only, so a cheap summary is that centuries of church/state interconnectedness has caused the "homegrown terrorist" phenomenon in Europe. If we want to avoid that here, we need to make sure the religion of immigrants isn't perceived as second-class to Christianity or Judaism in the eyes of the government.)

- And on the what-the-fuck-wackadoo front, we've got this.

Tortured and Hungry

gitmo
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

Anyone who reads B&E is probably already appalled by the reports of conditions and treatment of prisoners at Guantanamo.

After the photos from Abu Ghraib were leaked to the press, most of the country (barring a few right-wing media pundits) were disgusted and horrified. That no one above those in the photos is being held accountable is equally disgusting and horrific.

Led by John McCain, a survivor of torture himself, the Senate has attached an amendment to a military spending bill, which would regulate the treatment of prisoners. It passed the Senate 90-9. Naturally, it faces a tougher battle in the House, and our fair president is threatening a veto. How this position is defensible is completely beyond me.

Meanwhile, as long as there's no forseeable end to the mistreatment, a group of prisoners at Guantanamo have gone on a much-unnoticed hunger strike.

Leave it to The Nation, a magazine I love that no one reads, to cover the story. I hate that stories in The Nation tend to die in The Nation. The Nation was the only publication that would cover what we now know was the stolen election of 2000, while it was actually being stolen. But Democrats, being the bitches they are, ran away, hid, or simply did what they do best: capitulate. And the mainstream press is so brow-beaten into fearing the "liberal" label, they wouldn't touch it. Until it was too damned late.

Fuck everyone. I'm in a bad mood.

You Make the Call

They're not exactly trademarked or copyrighted, but home run calls vary from announcer to announcer. Phil Rizzuto's "Holy Cow!" is one of the more famous, as is Harry Cary's "It could be, it might be... it is! A home run!" Vin Scully gives a dismissive, "Forget it," and I've always been a big fan of, "Goodbye, Mr. Spalding," from the movie, "The Natural."

I feel like lately we're scraping the bottom of the barrel. ESPN's Chris Berman's, "Back back back back... Gone!" is pretty lame, and the Yankees announcer on YES gives an uninspired, "SSSEEEYA!" The Mets dude on WFAN gives a simple, yet enthusiastic, "OUTTA HERE!" which is certainly nothing special, but at least it's not annoying.

I'm hoping the White Sox do well in the post-season, so they can afford to get some better announcers. The home run call is, "You can... PUT IT ON THE BOARD! YESSSSSSSS!" which is just stupid, and they make it worse by having an even more annoying strikeout call: "He gone." It's like those lame-ass white dudes that still say, "What up, dawg?"

By all means, let me know if you have favorites or least favorites out there. What would your home run call be? Mine would either be, "He hit the crap out of that one!" or "Man, I wish I could hit a ball that far..."

Industry Fighting

In the wake of Katrina, Rita, and other natural disasters, the people who acknowledge that global warming is, in fact, happening are receiving their first well-funded ally... the Insurance Industry.

Big Oil still makes the most money, they own the government, and they deny the science of global warming. But the Insurance Industry won't pay out all that fucking coverage without a fight. So after the Insurance Industry gets done screwing the poor people of the Ninth Ward, I'm hoping we can sit back and watch them go to war with Big Oil.

World Beard and Mustache Championships - Follow-up

mustacheman
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

News is slow getting back to the US from the World Beard and Mustache Championship, which were held October 1 in Berlin.

It seems that the German hometown favorites won in 14 of 17 overall categories, but I'm having difficulty getting names of the winners, other than Elmar Weisser, winner of the freestyle competition, who fashioned his beard in the style of Brandenburg Gate. There's little news of reigning champion Karl-Heinz Hille, for example. And Phil Olsen hasn't yet updated the Team America blog.

But I did learn that there's a documentary of the 2003 competition in Carson City, Nevada, called "Harmony of Curves." If you think that's not going on my Netflix list immediately, you're out of your mind. Shit. Netflix doesn't carry it. Foiled again, dammit.

In case you don't read the links in their entirety, I'd like to share one point of interest. Germany has fifteen beard clubs.

A Big Week for Dickheads

The obvious choice for this week's Dickhead is Dickhead Hall of Famer, Tom "Send Me to Jail Without" DeLay. The guy gets indicted and does what corrupt politicians do so well: attack their accusers as partisan revenge mongers and then attack the indictment itself on a technicality. Luckily Ronnie Earle isn't one to back down. He re-indicted the Hammer on a more serious charge, one that carries as much as a life sentence. God knows Tom "Pass the Cash to Me and Don't" DeLay won't get the full sentence, but now he's crying like the baby he is, literally calling Earle's indictment the legal equivalent of a "do-over." So yes, Tommy's probably Dickhead of the Week.

But there are a couple of others worth mentioning -- other Dickhead Hall of Famers at that...

Bill "Frisky" Frist is getting investigated for his questionable stock sale. He had himself a press conference to read a statement. According to Dickhead Robert Novak, when Frisky finished the statement and the press began to ask questions, he turned his back on them and walked out. And the staunchly conservative Murdoch-owned New York Post has called Frisky "the biggest liar in Tennessee since Davy Crockett."

And one can always count on Mother Dickhead, Karl "Boba" Rove for a quality Dickhead move. After Bush's calls for conservation, a reporter sent an email to Boba, asking what he was doing to conserve. He hit reply, and wrote, "What are you doing to conserve?" The back-and-forth only went downhill from there, with the reporter calling a Rove a "jerk" and a "big meanie," to which Rove replied, "I know you are but what am I?" The reporter then took his ball and went home.

Then on "This Week" on ABC, George Stephanopoulos announced that a source on the inside told him that Bush and Cheney were both involved in discussions surrounding the CIA leak. Dude. At what point does impeachment seem lenient?

(The news of Frist, Rove, and Stephanopoulos comes from the HuffPost.)

The Baseball Playoffs Are Upon Us

This is the one time of year my wife becomes a baseball widow. Boy, I do love the baseball playoffs. As the regular season ends and the playoffs begin, here are a few thoughts...

-- The entire NL East finished at .500 or better. Only one team from the NL East (the Washington Nationals) had a record that wasn't good enough to win the NL West.

-- Mike Piazza will almost certainly be leaving the Mets after seven seasons at Shea. At the time he signed his $91 million contract, he was the highest paid player in baseball. Watching him give his all while running out routine ground balls demonstrated to me that he was a worthwhile investment. I'll miss him as a Met, and I hope that he does well as a DH and backup catcher for some American League team. Dude, he's totally gonna end up a Yankee, isn't he?

-- The Atlanta Braves (and their third baseman Wilson "Speechum" Betimet) won their 14th straight division title. Fuck those guys.

-- The San Diego Padres won the NL West with a record of 82-80, which is terrible for a division winner. But now I really hope they win the World Series.

-- The Chicago White Sox enter the post-season not having won a playoff series since 1917. Boy, those Chicago teams sure have a tough time of it.

-- Tom DeLay got himself re-indicted. It's not baseball, but it's awesome.

What I hope for the World Series:
San Diego Padres vs. Chicago White Sox

What I expect for the World Series:
St. Louis Cardinals vs. New York Yankees

What I hope for Tom DeLay:
A prison cellmate that shows girlfriend Tom his hammer.

What I expect for Tom DeLay:
He gets off on some ridiculous technicality and insists he's been fully exonerated.

The Last Reason to Go to Times Square

mchales
Originally uploaded by dangunderman.

McHale's Bar on 46th Street and 8th Avenue is one of the greatest places in New York, for both tangible and intangible reasons. I was first introduced to the place by a teacher I had in college. A couple of us joined him for a play near Times Square, and he took us to McHale's after. He explained that it was the regular hangout for Broadway stagehand union members.

McHale's was my first New York dive (I think it's CitySearch that describes it as "noir," and that's not completely inaccurate). Shady activities only add to the appeal -- ticket brokers (i.e. scalpers) use the place as a drop-off, so on more than one occasion, I've picked up tickets for a concert or play from the bartender.

McHale's was also home to my first good burger outside of Kansas. So for the past twelve years or so, anytime my sole purpose has been to get a burger, I've made McHale's my destination.

A few years ago, I was doing reviews for the Time Out New York Eating & Drinking Guide, and they were kind enough to assign me McHale's. This was my review (although the goofiness was totally their edit):

"God bless McHale's. God bless it for serving one of the tastiest burgers in town, and God bless the Yankees and Rangers fans who eat them. God bless the sheer joy of digging into a fresh bowl of Italian pasta (fettucine porcini) at an Irish pub. God bless the back booths, whose tables are just high enough to make you feel like a child, and the atmosphere, which is just divey enough to make it seem more a part of the old Times Square than the new one. Don't forget to bless the servers, who are hired on the merits of their friendliness, not attractiveness (though they are good-lookin', God bless 'em). And God save the clueless tourists who wander by outside, never imagining that inside the doors is a bona fide -- not Disneyfied -- New York institution."

McHale's is closing January 1. The owner plans to knock down the building and put up a high rise. McHale's put up a good fight, but it seems that Disney has won.

Anyone Remember Judith Miller?

Yeah, me neither.