My Favorite Jackson

JUST WHEN IT LOOKED like this was gonna be one of those weekends when money would be too tight to mention, I found a 20-dollar bill in the alley I cut through every day. It was amazing because at the very moment I espied the bill in question, I was engaged in bemoaning my sad state of financial affairs as I trudged along on my way to meeting my brother for a cup of coffee, tea in my case. At first I thought I was just imagining it, but no, it was real all right, the bill sort of folded in quarters so that I wasn't sure of the denomination until I picked it up. I was never so glad to see Andrew Jackson's stern face as I stuffed the 20 in my pocket. Of course, it would have been sweeter to see big Ben Franklin or my homeboy U.S. Grant staring back at me. But at least a man can do something with a 20 spot! Needless to say, the hot caffeinated beverages were on me this morning. I hope the person who lost it didn't miss it as much as I needed it. Either way, you're never too rich or poor not to appreciate finding money.

As I told my brother, we probably all lose or find about 100 dollars over the course of a lifetime. As of right now, I think I'm way ahead, because I don't remember losing nearly as much as I've found so far, which if my theory is correct means I'm due to lose about 60 bucks worth of currency before my final ledger is balanced. Just last year, for instance, I found 15 bucks in the bagel shop I go to all the time. (Oh, that was yours? Sorry, too late.) Suffice to say, this is now my favorite alleyway, just a little shortcut between 35th and 36th Streets if you're wondering. But just think of the timing needed between the loser and the finder of the money and you know why I feel blessed indeed that some higher power is looking out for me. Of course it's probably the same higher power that got me into this mess in the first place. So on second thought...

Then again, things could always be worse, as my dear mother used to say. How about the poor soul who was stomped to death at a Valley Stream, Long Island, shopping mall on Black Friday, run over by a stampede of crazed shoppers hell bent on holiday sales at a Wal-Mart.

"A police statement said shortly after 5 a.m., a throng of shoppers "physically broke down the doors, knocking (the worker) to the ground." Police also said a 28-year-old pregnant woman was taken to a hospital for observation and three other shoppers suffered minor injuries and were also taken to hospitals."

Not one of Capitalism's finest moments, to be sure, or Humanity in general for that matter, but get used to it as money gets even scarcer and people get still meaner:

"Some shoppers who had seen the stampede said they were shocked. One of them, Kimberly Cribbs of Queens, said the crowd had acted like “savages.” Shoppers behaved badly even as the store was being cleared, she recalled. “When they were saying they had to leave, that an employee got killed, people were yelling, ‘I’ve been on line since yesterday morning,’ ” Ms. Cribbs told The Associated Press. “They kept shopping.”

If there's a worse, more meaningless way to die, I hope I never discover it...

Face To Face

JUST GOT BACK from meeting my nephew and his girlfriend on the West Side. We walked up Amsterdam from 66th Street, up to about 80th, then I left them back down near 63rd Street. About 5 minutes after leaving them, around 2:00 pm, I had my first post-Thanksgiving celebrity spotting, if indeed that so-called Jungle Lady with the real bad plastic surgery qualifies as one. I was walking near 57th Street and 8th when I spotted her walking in my direction. The word that came to mind was "Sad!" She had a hood on and was understandably in the process of drawing it closer around her infamous visage. I know there are probably hundreds of rich women in that area walking around wearing the results of grotesque plastic surgery disasters, but trust me: this was the face that launched a thousand tabloid covers just a few years ago.

I just Wikipedia'd her case. Her name is apparently Jocelyn Wildenstein, she had the work done so her husband wouldn't leave her, which he did anyway, and the result is a Twilight Zone episode come to life. She spent like 4 mil on her new mug, then got tens of millions of dollars, give or take a buck, in the divorce proceedings, and then pawned another 10 mil in jewelry for some shopping money. Wikipedia confirmed that she still lives in New York. So that was her. Damn, maybe I should have chatted her up. It's not like I'm doing any better with the so-called normal, non-Lion Woman-looking female population in this kooky town.

Guilt-Free Thought Crimes

"And if my thought-dreams could be seen, They'd probably put my head in a guillotine, But it's alright, Ma, it's life, and life only."
-- Dylan

IS IT EVEN POSSIBLE to imagine a bigger waste of time, space and money than a live "Family Guy" musical? Of course you can't. But that's what took place at Carnegie Hall last night, billed as Family Guy Sings! -- an unedited live reading of two episodes from the (somehow) popular animated Fox series. Now, the show is not as bad as some critics make it out to be, but it's not The Simpsons. And it's certainly not worthy of this kind of elaborate treatment either. A 40-piece orchestra? C'mon! That's a good use of the family funds near the Holidays during a recession! Or perhaps just another sign of the apocalypse, as the kids used to say...

...Ironically, or maybe just tangentially, the only time I ever sat in hallowed Carnegie Hall was almost EXACTLY 30 years to the day. That august occasion was a David Bromberg show, which I attended with my high school sweetheart Debbie Ellen Epstein. I remember Bromberg making an announcement before the show to the effect of, "They said I should tell y'all that it's illegal to smoke grass here, but it's not like you have to listen to me." And of course we didn't. Or did...

...Man, I hadn't thought about that concert for several eons. Great show. Opening act was British folkie Ralph McTell of Streets of London fame. Saw Bromberg again a few years later at the Bottom Line, another long gone music venue that used to be in the West Village. I wanna say he played the epic "New Lee Highway Blues" both nights. Guess that's why this qualifies as a thought-dream. If I say it, I can believe it...

...Speaking of pop culture that wastes your time, I'm already sick of the Jim Carrey "Yes Man" trailer. I mean, what a tedious concept: a guy can only say yes to things. About as gripping as when he made the movie where he couldn't lie a few years ago. Just a lame excuse for Carrey to make those same stupid faces for 90 minutes that he's been doing since Ace Ventura. Talk about a one-trick pony...

...My rant continues apace with a shot at all the ink spilled and bandwidth wasted over a new Guns N Roses album. Apparently, it's a record that's been 17 years in the making, with Axl Rose endlessly tinkering and remixing the songs. It's the kind of thing a legend like Neil Young might do, the difference being that Young would continue to release other music during the same span, instead of boring everyone with changing release dates, etc...

....Now, it's my contention that GNR might be the most overhyped, overrated rock band in the history of the MTV generation, along with the likes of Van Halen and the Dave Matthews Band. I'm sure there are other groups vying for the same dubious mantel, but after naming the 3 songs by GNR that I can tolerate -- "Jungle," "Sweet Child" and "November Rain" -- I run out of any songs that made any kind of impact on the popular culture at large. Please don't bring up their wretched cover of Dylan's "Knockin' on Heaven's Door"; that's an atrocity better left unmentioned and disremembered...

...I could care less about this album, but the reviews are unavoidable. The Onion just ran a full-page Chuck Klosterman review, which at first I thought was actually an Onion satire, but as I read on, it apparently was the real Chuck Klosterman, a writer who is celebrated as some kind of pop music guru, but I see more charlatan than sage in this guy...

...The Klosterman piece is called "The Last Album" because (yawn) in the Digital Age people don't listen to whole albums from beginning to end anymore -- therefore according to Klosterman "it's the last album that will be marketed as a collection of autonomous-but-connected songs, the last album that will be absorbed as a static manifestation of who the band supposedly is, and the last album that will matter more as a physical object than as an Internet sound file." Now, we've been hearing this notion for years, just like the paperless society. Didn't AC/DC just release an album exclusively at Wal-Mart a month ago and it was a huge seller? That was a physical object that you took home, held, etc. Plus, vinyl itself is making a comeback...

...Back to Chinese Democracy. The uber-dorky Klosterman voluntarily relates that he's been eagerly anticipating the record's release lo these many years, through all the delays and false alarms: "I've been thinking about this record for 15 years; during that span, I've thought about this record more than I've thought about China, and maybe as much as I've thought about the principles of democracy." This line, predictably, has been quoted all over the place, just as Klosterman knew it would. It's the kind of cultural period we live in, one where you can see things coming a mile or two away, whether it's the next line in a formulaic movie or the next lame joke in a TV sitcom. Klosterman is this generation's safe version of Lester Bangs, a true misfit who certainly would have knocked Klosterman's glasses off his face if he ever came across the writer of the fraudulent sentiments contained in "The Last Album." Unfortunately, the endearingly bombastic but always authentic Bangs left us way back in 1982, when Klosterman the future nerd was but 10 years old.

From what little I've heard, Chinese Democracy sounds like an overproduced nightmare, maybe a poor man's Pet Sounds, or perhaps a Spinal Tap album produced by late-crazy-period Phil Spector. Klosterman describes the album as "like Jeff Lynne tried to make Out of the Blue sound more like Fun House, except with jazz drumming and a girl singer from Motown." See, to me that sounds like a totally forced sentence, written only because he knows it's gonna draw attention to itself, but it comes across as phony -- like the reliably insipid Peter Travers writing a movie review while thinking of the inevitable blurb that will be chosen for the trade ad...

...The most cringe-inducing sentiment is saved by Klosterman for last. At the end of his over-the-top review, one that is literally littered with forced arcane pop culture references, he actually forms the words: "The final truth is this: Axl makes the best songs. They sound the way I want songs to sound." Let that sink in a second or three. BEST COMPARED TO WHAT? This is like saying Mickey Rourke makes the best movies, makes movies the way I want them to look. You wonder what the hell this guy Klosterman is smoking, and why anyone holds him in anything like esteem. But people do, because I've skimmed through his books at the library, and I saw where he just published his first novel. Color me very unimpressed...

...A few more things here while I have your attention. Did you see where the Vatican went out of its/their way to praise the Beatles? AP reported that L'Osservatore Romano marked the 40th anniversary of the White Album last week, stating that the album was notable for its creativity and contrasting the Beatles' work with the "standardized, stereotypical" songs being produced today. Wow, "Sexy Sadie" and "Helter Skelter" sure have come a long way since Charles Manson and Family blackened the meaning behind the song lyrics for a lot of listeners. Makes one wonder if anyone is going to be showering praise on Chinese Democracy 40 years down the line in 2048. I seriously doubt it...

...Not only did they come to praise dead Beatles, but the Vatican mouthpiece even seemed eager to absolve John Lennon of his "bigger than Jesus" commentary, chalking it up to mere youthful indescretion. Of course, it would have been appropriate for one of the John Paul popes to have some Beatles tunes on his Holy iPod. But the new guy Benedict XVI really doesn't seem like a Rocky Racoon kind of guy. Maybe he can change his name to Pope George Ringo. That would move some units, as we say in the music biz...

...Disturbing reports of planned terrorist attack of New York City subways. According to FBI reports, the plot was beyond the "aspirational planning" stage, which means the extremists have not stopped thinking of ways to "blow us up real good" just because we changed presidential parties here. The subway was probably always a dream target for the terrorists (talk about your "bang for the buck") and it was never taken off the "to do" list, is how I see it...

...The first few weeks after 9/11, dread of an impending subway attack is what had me riding my bicycle from my apartment in Astoria to my job on Wall Street. Fear, after all, is a man's best motivator. Take Noah, for example. First he gets hit with the whole ark-building project. Then he finds out he has to collect two of every specimen on earth. Without the wrath of an all-powerful deity on his case 24/7, no way the guy even starts such an undertaking.

Coming To Life

GOOD TO SEE the Cowboys cruise to an easy win for a change yesterday -- and by "see" I mean "monitor" the game on NFL.com, which gives incredibly detailed play by play coverage that truly is the next best thing to being there live or watching it live on TV or listening on radio... So it's actually the 4th best way to catch a game. But it was still enjoyable to "watch" Dallas roll off 29 straight points after San Fran scored the game's first 6 points on 2 field goals.

Yesterday also marked the Real Return of Romo, who went 23-39 for 341 yards and 3 TDs, and not un-coincidentally T.O.'s best game since leaving those very same 49ers way back in 2000. Owens racked up 213 yards on just 7 catches, the big strike a 75-yard catch and run that saw #81 bullying his way into the end zone for the last 10 yards. Romo's big day carried Dallas to a 35-22 win that sets them up nicely for a Thanksgiving home tilt versus a struggling Seattle team. There's no line yet in my local paper, but it's gotta be double digits in favor of the Pokes, probably 13-15 points if I had to, well, bet on it. But if Dallas can get past the Seahawks, they'd be sitting at 8-4 with 10 days off. Probably not enough time left to catch the Giants, sitting at 10-1, but considering they have tiebreakers with Washington (7-4) and Tampa Bay (8-3), Dallas would be right in the thick of the wild card race. Their last 4 games are home against the Giants and Ravens, at Pittsburgh and at Philly last game of the year.

Now, that last game obviously could be huge for playoff implications, and by that time one Kevin Kolb could be starting his 4th or 5th straight game for the Eagles. Yesterday saw Donovan McNabb benched for the second half following a putrid 8-18 for 59 yards and with his team losing 10-7 to the Ravens. Kolb wasn't a whole lot better, 10-23 73 yards, and like McNabb he also threw it twice to the other guys. Philly coach Andy Reid promised to announce a starter today, but with the Eagles (5-5-1) all but mathematically out of the postseason picture, why not see what the kid has for the last 5 games of the season.

We saw how long it took Romo to come back after breaking his pinky finger, which was why I was shocked that Cleveland would let Brady Quinn play with his broken finger. The result was an 8-18 day for 94 yards with 2 picks in a dismal home loss to the Texans. Derek Anderson picked right up where Quinn left off in relief, completing only 5 of 14 for just 51 yards and a pick for good measure. It's anyone's guess who's under center next week against the Colts. I'm sure Cleveland would like to see what it has invested in Quinn, but it's a fine line of not wanting to push the kid if he's not healthy with nothing left to play for at 4-7.

Now, there was some good QB play around the league. Chad Pennington threw for 341 yards in a loss to New England, and David Garrard also cracked the 300 barrier in Jacksonville's loss to Minny. And SF's Shaun Hill was surprisingly effective when given time, going 21-33 for 303 yards and a score. But the real story had to be Matt Cassel of the Pats, who cracked the 400 yard barrier for a second straight week with 415 yards on 30 for 43 passing. The odds of this guy throwing for two straight 300 yard games at any point in the season would have been astronomical based on his first few starts after Tom Brady went down in Week 1.

At 90.5, Cassel now sits as the 11th ranked passer in the league based on the complicated but I think fair system of rating QBs, ahead of bigger name guys like Peyton Manning (87.2), Jay Cutler (87.0) and Ben Roethlisberger (80.5). Caseel has completed 66.3% of his passes for 2,615 yards and 13 TDs against 8 INTs. Now, he does have high-quality wideouts in Randy Moss (3 TDs yesterday) and Wel Welker (80 catches on the season), but that's offset by perhaps the weakest set of starting RBs in the NFL (and maybe NCAA) in Kevin Faulk and Sammy Morris. I'll admit to being dead wrong about Cassel not being able to cut it in this league, but this is one the best jobs of coaching a player up in a long, long while.

There are in fact only 3 starting NFL QBs with passer ratings above 100. SD's Philip Rivers (23 TDs, 10 INTs) sits atop the league at 103.3, followed by Kurt Warner (21 and 8) at 102.4 and Romo (101.8), with his 18 TDs and 7 INTs. Two QBs with excellent numbers will play in the Monday Night game, with New Orleans' Drew Brees (3,251 yards through 10 games, a 95.4 rating) and Green Bay's Aaron Rodgers (15 TDs against only 6 INTs, a 94.5 rating). And let's not leave out the old guy, Brett Favre, completing over 70% of his passes and a relatively positive TD-INT ratio with 20 TDs versus 13 picks good enough for 94.1 on the QB scale.

BMUPs In The Road

SPOTTED A FEW amusing spelling gaffes in my travels recently. First I was in a drugstore looking for a birthday card for my sister last weekend. This act always takes me far longer than it should as I try to nail the perfect card at the right price. I'm known for my humorous cards in the family, although my brother may be under the delusion that in fact he is. Nevertheless, about a good 20 minutes into the second card store, I spot the ultimate proofreading nightmare, a card reading HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SISITER on its cover! Nobody caught it, and who knows how many cards are out there on store shelves at this very instant, just waiting to spoil some sister's hard-earned holiday. (I once got a birthday card from my Papou signed "Best Swishes" but at least he had the excuse of not knowing English until he came here from Greece as a young man.) In the end, my brother talked me out of picking that particular card to give to my sister, but I should have gone with my instinct and bought it for myself. In fact, I may go back there and get it just for posterity's sake.

The other one was a hand-written sign in a local deli here in Astoria, but it was so far off as to merit inclusion in any list of spelling mistakes: GIFT CITIFICATES AVAILABLE. I guess the guy just decided to go all phonetic at the last second, figuring that looking for a dictionary was just not worth the effort and it's the thought that counts.

The last one is a classic. That's what's known in the blog posting business as saving the best for last. There's a little corner food store up the block from where I live, what would be called a bodega in a Spanish neighborhood, only here these kinds of stores are run by Arab families, or perhaps Persians or Sikhs or Sunnis or what have you. The point I'm getting to is that the name of the store is featured prominently in two places on a bright yellow awning, and right there for all the world to see, or at least that part of the world that passes by 37th Street and 24th Avenue, is EXECTIVE DELICATESSEN. EXECTIVE! What the hell were they thinking? Nobody caught it at any point along the process! Maybe the store owner figured he'd save a little money on the two U's and pass the savings on to the customer. Maybe nobody cares about these things but me. That's the kind of un-proofed world we live in, and after all I'm only one solitary man fighting against the odds.