More Dribs and Drabs

Whoa. So much has happened since my last entry. Lots of things that can be referred to by a single phrase: Imus, Virginia Tech, Spring, a few big sporting events: the NBA playoffs have begun, the NFL draft (also known as American Christmas) is right around the corner, and my beloved Penguins have been ceremoniously booted from the best postseason in all of sports, the Stanley Cup Playoffs. I will deal with each of these events in reverse order and uneven depth. For those of my readers (I know, by all appearances, I only have one, but she's schizophrenic) who really want to skip the sports stuff, move on to paragraph 5.

First, the Penguins. I guess you shouldn't complain too much when the four best players on your favorite team are all under 21. They'll be back next year for another shot at the cup. Also, it turns out that Sidney Crosby, the best player on the team (and probably the world) was playing the last few weeks of the season with a broken foot. Also, it might have been unhealthy for me if they had gotten any farther in the playoffs. During the four games that I was able to watch, I would estimate that I breathed about 18 times. Total.

The NFL draft is this Saturday and Sunday in New York, and I would really be tempted to go if I weren't going to be flying to New Orleans to work on a Habitat for Humanity build with a group from my company, Return Path, which generously encourages its employees to do community service. You might ask why I would want to attend an event that consists entirely of a man marching up to a podium, reciting a name, and then walking off, only to be repeated more than 250 times over the period of two days? Why? Events that attract WAY more interest then one would imagine, like the announcement of a paternity test or a fairly simple talent show, are fascinating, and that ESPN and the NFL have somehow managed to
bottle this magic and make it appear each year towards the end of April.

I'm going to skip the NBA playoffs. They were basically just filler in my opening paragraph, although I am watching a particularly entertaining game right now between the number 1 seeded Dallas Mavericks and the number 8 seeded Golden State Warriors (are there any other sports teams that use a euphemism to refer to their geographic location? The Big Apple Knickerbockers? The Lone Star State Stars? The Armpit-of-America Devils?)

Spring finally seems to have arrived, and not a moment too soon. It has sparked several SNOD days, and for me several SAC days -- days of Sneezing Almost Constantly.

About Virginia Tech, a few things jump out at me. First of all, I was surprised at how quickly people started joking about it. Usually after any horrible thing, there are at least a few days during which that subject is out of bounds for humor, but it seemed to me that the Virginia Tech shootings became fodder for jokes pretty quickly. Also, while I think that we might want to make it a little harder to get a gun legally in this country, I'm a bit hesitant to blame violence in movies, the chosen cultural scapegoat for this act. Listen, as someone who sat through 3 and quarter hours of almost constant violence in the movie Grindhouse earlier this week, I am all for less violence in movies. Or at least less gross, gratuitous violence. Or, at least more sex... it doesn't make sense to wait to decide which pieces of our culture inspire horrible acts until after they happen. And after all, millions of people who have watched violent movies have turned into non-serial killers, so actually, watching violent movies must have a calming effect, right, right... (how's my math, did I carry the 3?)

Talking about bizarre cultural scapegoats, how did the Don Imus witch-hunt (not to say he didn't have it coming) turn into a referendum on the state of hip-hop? Or, as this article points out, the assumed state of him-hop, since it doesn't seem like anyone is actually paying attention to the actual state of hip-hop, which is currently more bubble-gummed out then blinged-out, and more prankster than gangsta.

I was actually watching the game in question, (it was hard to find a bar near Union Square that was showing a women's basketball game, but Russ and I persisted, despite being told by a less than helpful bartender to "try a butch bar on second Avenue") and like Imus, I was struck by the contrast between the teams. Tennessee's women's basketball program is by far the best program in the country and basically can have it's choice of all the best players. And, it seems like whoever is casting has a predilection not just for the most talented players, but also for very pretty, nicely made up white girls. Meanwhile, Rutgers is a state school in New Jersey, and our team was almost all black girls from places like Newark, Camden, Brooklyn, and the Bronx. I'm not making a judgement, I'm just saying that, especially if you've read a little sports history and know that sports has often been a proxy for racial tension/warfare, it was glaringly obvious that something interesting was going on.

For an interesting perspective on Imus, check out my old boss, Richard Rein's column on the subject. Rein dug out some old notes from 1975 when he was assigned by a Cleveland area publication to profile Don Imus, who had just broken out into the national radio scene a few years before, after spending time as as a railroad brakeman, a country & western singer, and a small-town DJ!

In a New Jersey State of Mind

This Sunday the sixth and a halfth season of The Sopranos will begin. I was a Sopranos doubter to begin with -- not only because I have a built-in suspicion of anything that popular, but also because I couldn't get past the fact that Soprano is a silly last name. Luckily for me, I got over that a couple of years ago and beginning with episode one, season one, I watched every single episode of the first five seasons to prepare for season six, which aired last spring. I have to admit that my nervousness about these last nine episodes almost outweighs my excitement. The first half of this last season was sub-par at best and I really hope that they blow us all away (and some of the characters) this spring.

New Jersey, homeland to myself and the Sopranos, is a strange place with strange inhabitants, real and fictitious. There is a lot of petty crime -- let's see if you can pick out the fact from the fiction (Sopranos style):

Two successful business men with questionable pasts are on their way home from a country house, but can't resist stealing crates of expensive wine that are being loaded into the back of the restaurant that they stop to eat at.

A man wedges a coin into the fish scale at the supermarket in Newark so that he doesn't have to pay full price for his seafood.

Three people steal $12,000 dollars worth of underwear from Victoria's Secret in a mall in Jersey City.

For the answer, click on this link.

Another theme seems to be driving in dubious circumstances:

A man crashes his car into a deer (of course, for insurance purposes, the deer hit him,) while driving with his colleague's girlfriend -- rumors fly.

A man wins his appeal after being convicted of driving an industrial vehicle under the influence of alcohol because drunk driving laws don't apply if the vehicle doesn't go on highways and doesn't carry passengers.

A doctor specializing in erectile dysfunction suffers an embarrassing episode of his own when the guests at his daughter's wedding are the victims of a large-scale car thieving operation.

For the answer, click on this link.

So, call your goomah, start cooking some pasta, buy some capicola, and tune in to HBO this Sunday at 9:00 p.m!