Archive | March, 2008

Earfro and Ugly Dogs

10 Mar

A double feature of ugliness for your viewing pleasure, courtesy of Countdown with Keith Olbermann.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/22425001/vp/23566968#23566968

Dodger Blue, Cardinal Red, and Oriole Orange

8 Mar

The good news is that, despite reports to the contrary, Nomar Garciaparra is, in fact, signing autographs down in Florida at Dodgertown, the Los Angeles Dodgers’ spring training home. I know this because I saw it first-hand on Friday when me and my dad took a day trip up to Vero Beach for some baseball action. This was our second annual father-son bonding/spring training trip, and the first of what will be three games this weekend. (Last year we saw the Sox in Fort Myers; this year we couldn’t get tickets. What a surprise.)

Dodgertown is a pretty cool place to spend the day. It’s a complex, and the practice fields and the stadium (more like a field with seats for the fans) are all in one place. And that allows for more up-close-and-personal interaction than you would get, say, in Fort Myers at this point in spring training. I got some great great photos (stay tuned for more of those later) and we talked with Tommy Lasorda and were inches from the players — especially during the game, when we sat about a foot behind the St. Louis Cardinals bullpen. Joe Torre was there, as were Don Mattingly, Todd’s favorite out-maker Juan Pierre, Derek Lowe, etc. etc. And Albert Pujols and Nomar both hit homers. Oh, and they serve Dodger Dogs at Dodgertown, too. Yum.

So what could be bad? Well, while we were enjoying ourselves, I roasted. And now I’m all red around my neck and on my face and arms. Appropriately, it’s the same color as the Cardinals’ uniforms. But it was worth it. We had a great time.

Today we went to Fort Lauderdale Stadium to see the Orioles and the Mets play. That’s really all we could do. It’s not a terribly big place and aside from the game, there’s not much to see. The Mets sent their B-squad, so the big deal for me was seeing Kevin Millar, who didn’t disappoint. He’s a fan fave, still quick with a joke, and he went 1-3. Same ole Millar.

Even though these weren’t the best ballgames I’ve seen, it’s still really cool to hear the crack of the bat again, and more importantly, to see the players doing what they (and I) enjoy so much. Spring is here, my friends. And in just a few weeks, summer will follow right behind. Bring it on.

This Is B.S.

6 Mar

South Pasadena Bans Cursing for a Week.

Closer to Closing

5 Mar

My lawyer tells me the heavy lifting is over — in a manner of speaking, anyway. I’ve now signed the Purchase & Sale agreement and have applied for a mortgage. Now I basically just sit back and relax, and wait until the closing later this month, when I can officially be declared a home owner. Well, not exactly relax. There’s that little matter of packing, of course. But something tells me throwing all my possessions in boxes, bags and crates will be a lot less stressful than deciding on a mortgage broker.

Woo hoo! Buying a condo is fun again.

The More You Know

3 Mar

Big, Important Discovery of the Day:
The really good cover of Don Henley’s “The Heart of the Matter” in the new Sex & the City trailer is not, as I suspected, by the movie’s costar, Jennifer Hudson, but by India.Arie.
Moral of the Story:
A well-placed cover of a great song in the trailer of a movie I was iffy about will make said movie a must-see. And, iTunes just made another sale.

Second-biggest Important Discovery of the Day:
All six of the laundry machines in my building — not just the two new ones — now cost $1.75 per load.
Moral of the Story:
I have more than one reason to be happy I’m moving and will have laundry in my apartment.

Third-biggest Important Discovery of the Day:
Buying a condo can be very stressful, especially the day before you have to sign the Purchase & Sale, hand over a big check, and decide on a mortgage lender.
Moral of the Story:
A week ago I told Todd I found the whole condo-buying process fun. Todd responded by saying, “If you’re having fun, then you’re not doing it right.” Wise words. But I choose to heed the even wiser words of that old adage, “Anything worth having is worth working for.” And I know it’s all going to be worth it a month from now.

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder

3 Mar

There was nothing good on TV Sunday night, so I scanned through my old DVR recordings and decided to re-watch an episode of Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip called “The Long Lead Story,” one of three episodes of the show I saved (the others being the pilot and the instant-classic Xmas episode). I knew I liked this show when it was on (mostly, anyway — it could be hit and miss), but man, was this a great episode. That Aaron Sorkin, when he’s on his game, there’s no one better. Christine Lahti was a very good guest star, the dialogue crackled, Sting played the lute, the show within a show was actually kinda funny, and Nate Corddry spends a chunk of the episode in a lobster costume. So yeah, nearly a year and a half after this episode aired, it’s still impressive — although I started to wonder: whatever happened to that long lead story Lahti’s character was working on? If I’m correct, that plot thread was completely dropped and the story never appeared. Anyway, I miss Studio 60. Or at least I miss the good episodes of the show. Maybe I’ll buy the complete series on DVD so I can re-watch the entire thing — and I can see if that story did ever run.

To My Neighbors …

2 Mar

Just a quick, public note to say how much I hate you. I hate you very very very very much. I hate you so much and I can’t stand it anymore. I want your violin strings to snap. I want your bows to break. I want both of those things to cause you bodily harm. I wish nothing good for you. I’m more than pissed off.

Since September I have put up with your your violin playing, complaining about it only on this blog. It has gone on day and night, for hours on end. And I think I’ve been more than tolerant and flexible about letting you play without banging on any doors or walls, or reporting you to the building management company. I’ve even dealt with your smelly cooking, which has stunk up the hallway, and every so often would back up into my kitchen sink — largely due, I was told, to the fact that you did not understand how to use a disposal. I’ve never spoken to you, even though we live next door to each other. But that day is coming and you’re not going to like what I have to say.

Do you have any conception of how loud you are, and of the fact that if I walk to the opposite end of the hallway I can still hear you playing? Do you know how annoying it is to get home from a long day of work and hear your screeching violin playing echoing through the hallways? Do you know how difficult it is to enjoy a TV show or to relax at night when you’re playing? Do you have any common decency or respect for your neighbors? Do you? I guess not.

Last week when you began playing violin during the Oscars, I finally lost all my patience, went beyond my breaking point, and reported you to Hamilton. I know they called you and sent you a note telling you it’s building policy that loud noise such as violin playing is not allowed. And yet, it’s Sunday evening and after listening to both of you playing your violins this afternoon for two hours — solo, and then together, and then solo again — now you’ve started again. Ladies, that’s enough. No, it’s more than enough. I’ve had it. This is fu**ing ridiculous. In fact, I’ve complained to Hamilton again (they asked me not to complain directly to you). Actually, I emailed them this afternoon and I’ve done so again this evening. And yes, I know I’m moving in about a month, but I don’t care. You must stop. Now. You must go to the practice studio at your school and practice there — just like my upstairs neighbor does. You must never cross me in the hallway. You must cease to exist in the building. And most definitely, you must stop knocking on the wall the very second I laugh at something on TV, as you have done twice this past week.

I’m generally a very nice person. But even I have my limits. If you keep playing your violin, I will keep reporting you to Hamilton (as they have asked me to do), and they will kick you out of the building. I hope that when they send you a second notice tomorrow morning that you will understand what they say and take it to heart. Otherwise, it will only get worse for you. Because if Hamilton’s efforts don’t produce results, then you’ll have to deal with me. And I can assure you, when my passive aggressive nature turns less passive, you will not like it. I, however, will enjoy making my last weeks in the building as unpleasant for you as I possibly can.

So please, for your own sake, please (and yes, I’m still saying please) quit it with the violin playing. Immediately.

Thank you.

– Martin

ps: Obviously, this picture is not of you. Just in case anyone else was wondering.

Raise this Roof

2 Mar

Hey there. Just a quick plug because an article I’ve written is now live on the Interweb for you to read and enjoy. It’s about the new Broadway production of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, which for the first time features an all-African-American cast. I interviewed Debbie Allen (who you most likely know from the TV show Fame), and, well, you can see what she had to say right here.

Power to the People

1 Mar

As an idealistic but still naive college freshman, I signed up for a class called “The Sixties” my first semester at Brandeis. The professor, Jerry Cohen, captivated me with stories of protests and social upheaval, and explained how the youth movement tried to transform the nation. And, he told us about how Brandeis itself was a hotbed of activity, and how graduates like Abbie Hoffman were central to the activism of the decade. This course excited me like no other course would, and it started my college education on an inspiring foot.

More than 15 years later, the lessons of Jerry Cohen have come back to life with the movie Chicago 10, a documentary about the infamous trial of the Chicago Seven — folks like Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, Tom Hayden, and Bobby Seale — who were put on trial for conspiracy, inciting to riot, and other charges related to violent protests that took place in Chicago during the 1968 Democratic National Convention. (The title comes from a quote by Rubin, who said, “Anyone who calls us the Chicago Seven is a racist. Because you’re discrediting Bobby Seale. You can call us the Chicago Eight, but really we’re the Chicago Ten, because our two lawyers went down with us.”) Director Brett Morgen mixes archival footage with computer-generated cartoons and a modern-day soundtrack to illustrate the trial and the convention week events. As historical documents go, it’s pretty cool to actually see a lot of the older footage and see how folks protested the Vietnam War. It’s also fun to see Hoffman in action; he comes across here as more of an agitator than a political activist, since he seems to delight more in getting a rise out of people than making actual change. The trial itself was a bit of a farce, since few of the defendants took the proceedings seriously. Judge Julius Hoffman (no relation to Abbie) was basically a crotchety old man who looked down on the defendants and made his disdain for them clear. And the fact that they all basically got off only emphasizes how silly the whole thing was.

Morgen uses the actual court transcripts as the script for the cartoon segments (with folks like Nick Nolte, Hank Azaria, and Mark Ruffalo providing the voices), and to be honest, these are some of the weaker segments in the film. The animation isn’t terribly impressive, and the back and forth with Judge Hoffman gets sort of old. On the good side, songs like the Beastie Boys’ “Sabotage” are used to good effect to amp up the protest footage. I generally liked seeing these events I had in my head actually playing out in front of me. And it’s nice that there’s no present-day analysis from anyone, because what’s happening basically speaks for itself. But that said, the film is missing some degree of insight, and some extra degree of engagement that prevented me from being completely impressed. So I’m giving Chicago 10 a B.