Banner Day

Today I found out that the William and Mary Squirrel has a Facebook Page. (On which it's listed as a 'Public Figure'.  Got 1,334 'likes' and everything.) It happened right after I got tweeted to by @WMSquirrel. Yeah, things are really moving in high gear down here at the quarry.

ICYMI: The making of a great compilation tape, like breaking up, is hard to do

I miss cassettes. In particular I miss mixtapes. You don't know what's on there until you take a listen. And there's something nerdily pleasurable about giving someone an unlabeled mixtape to expand their musical horizons.

There are rules to this process.



It's nigh impossible to be surprised by music nowadays. My iPod not only tells me the name of the song, album, and artist, it tells me the number of minutes and seconds that have played and that remain and even shows the album artwork! If I put a CD in my computer I get most of the same information. My CD player only gives me track number and time outputs, although fancier ones can tell you about the artist and song. Hell, even my car tells me the name of the song and artist playing on FM stations.

When Dave's friend asked me to put together a "bangin' old-school hiphop playlist" during a recent chili-themed minisummit, I felt competing pangs of joy (someone recognizes the superiority of my musical taste!) and pain (there will be no suspense over which to drape my superior musical taste!). Sunshine and rain, if you will. Simply put, I could list some song titles here and call it a day. But it's entirely possible, nay, probable, that you will simply look at the list and poo-poo it, or not listen to any of it because you're familiar with the tracks. There likely is a way to combine a bunch of songs into one MP3 with no track breaks, but I don't know how to do that.

So I'm doing this:

Track 1 (I really consider this part of Track 2)
Track 2
Track 3
Track 4
Track 5 (best cellphone ever!)
Track 6
Track 7
Track 8 (this is all yootoob has?!)
Track 9
Track 10
Track 11
Track 12
Track 13

Everything except for track 8 is 19+ years old and all these songs are bangin', so I believe I accomplished the assignment (i.e., I created a bangin' old school hiphop playlist). If you email me I'll send you a Spotify link. Enjoy.

Washington Wizards Earn First Road Win, Rashard Lewis Celebrates In Most Wiz Way Ever

Oh, the Wizards. Even when they win, they lose. Washington (4-16) won their first road game of the season Saturday night, defeating the Bobcats 102-99 in Charlotte. It was the Wizards' first road win since April of last year, in fact. It also meant they are no longer the worst team in the NBA (shocking, I know). That's good news, right. Exciting stuff. Because I am a glutton for punishment, I watched the whole game (we'll ignore the fact the Wiz only won by three despite Charlotte being without five players, including their top two scorers). Dan Steinberg, aka @dcsportsbog, captured the jubilation on interim coach Randy Wittman's face after this rousing road victory (stoic, stone-faced excitement from the Fred Gwynne look alike...@recordsANDradio had a few choice pics in there too). And I was lucky enough to grab this gem of a pic as the game ended:

This is where I'm about to go off the rails. The Wizards had just won their first road game of the season (and fourth game in 20 tries), and what's this I see? Rashard Lewis is autographing a sneaker for a woman 15 seconds after the game ends (no, seriously, it was 15 seconds after the game). No time for you, Coach, my $22 million dollar ass needs to sign this autograph, for this particular woman. But wait folks, it gets better. THE WOMAN IS ANDRAY BLATCHE'S MOTHER. RASHARD LEWIS COULD CARE LESS ABOUT A RARE ROAD WIN AND IS IGNORING HIS HEAD COACH TO AUTOGRAPH A SNEAKER FOR 7 DAY DRAY'S MOM. [many thanks to @trevorjackson85 of Wizards Extreme and @jpoe82 for this picture, and the one below]

Slow down, overly angry typer, how can you be sure that is Blatche's mom? Well, luckily for us, Comcast chose to show her and her friends enjoying the game earlier. Take a look at the shirt. It's the same woman. And, before you say I have something against Blatche (a dude who played eight minutes in the Charlotte game and may or may not have left with a calf injury/excessive pouting) and am just making up that this was his mom for effect, I did a little digging.

Here is a story about Blatche's mom from the Syracuse Post-Standard. I did some particularly shoddy copy/paste/snipping work of the article pic and another pic from the game. Look at the picture of the woman. I'm no facial recognition expert, but those two faces appear extremely similar. It's Blatche's mom.

So, to reiterate, a guy making 22 million dollars a year blew off his coach after a win to immediately sign a sneaker for the mother of an underachieving, pouty teammate, who just so happens to be the captain of this sinking ship.

Ladies and gentleman, your 2011-2012 Washington Wizards.

Hope You Don't Have Plans

Really good thing that today is Saturday, because this video will almost certainly take up a significant portion of your day. Casey Pugh, a web developer for Vimeo and (obviously) Star Wars fan has created one of the most impressive (and culturally critical) crowdsourced artworks the world has ever seen.

Pugh worked with a friend to develop an application to carve Star Wars into 15-second segments, then created a distribution mechanism that enabled auteurs the world over to film their own versions of the scenes. After receiving thousands of responses, Pugh stitched the results together into a shot for shot version of the movie, digital crazyquilt-style. The result is an homage that's next to impossible to stop watching.

Real film buffs will note several nods to the groundbreaking filmmaking style first pioneered in the early 1990s in Williamsburg, VA in such classics as The Dark Side Returns and Rodeo. (Jokes for two are permissible here, but only on weekends.)

Settle in, grab a cold drink and some popcorn, and prepare to be unable to turn this off.


Star Wars Uncut: Director's Cut from Casey Pugh on Vimeo.

Coming Home

I have a secret to tell from my electrical well.

Wait, wrong post. In truth, I have a confession to make. All but my very closest friends know me as a mild-mannered (I'll thank you to not snicker at this point.) suburban businessman with a wife and kids, minivan, all the trappings. This morning's Washington Post blew my cover and exposed my double life, and frankly, I'm breathing more easily than I have in years.

The Washington Times had the story back in November, but nobody really paid much attention to that right-wing whackadoodle rag:

D.C. United has acquired veteran defender Robbie Russell, 32, from Real Salt Lake in exchange for a 2013 MLS SuperDraft third round selection. In other news, United will kick off the 2012 season at home on March 10. 

Russell comes to United following four seasons with Real Salt Lake, where he played 78 regular season matches (68 starts). The veteran also played in leagues in Norway and Denmark.

It's true. Despite my outward appearance, I'm actually a 32 year-old African American outside back with a penchant for tattooing my club logo on my ribcage. You may remember me from when I scored the winning goal in a shootout to lift RSL to the 2009 MLC Cup. (The stuff about "Tiana" is a bit of a ruse, but it makes for a good story.)

Damn, but it feels good to stop living a lie. Can't wait to see you all at RFK this season. I'll have tickets waiting for all of you.

This Week in Wrenball: Stubborn Belief

William & Mary is 4-17, 2-7 in Colonial Athletic Association play. The Tribe is in the top ten in the nation in one statistical category: losses. They're 293rd in efficiency, 291st in points per possession, 309th in rebound percentage, 316th in steal percentage, and 316th in block percentage. By nearly all statistical measures, they stink.

I can't for the life of me figure out why I continue to be so optimistic about this team. But I do. In a season full of losses, of depth-crippling and star-limiting injuries, of youthful mistakes, and learning on the fly, the Tribe has shown sparks of the potential that led experts to tab them for 6th in the conference in the preseason. In the last week, they took VCU to overtime and fell to UNCW by 2 before running out of steam against a nail-tough Drexel squad.

Tony Shaver's Wrens travel to Harrisonburg tonight to take on one of their two conference victims, a banged-up JMU squad. Matt Brady's Dukes are a funhouse mirror image of the Tribe, full of talent, equally beset by injuries, but hampered by inexplicable mental failures. Mark Selig (@MarkSelig) of the Harrisonburg Daily News Record tweeted this after the Dukes' 71-69 loss on Saturday to Hofstra, theretofore winless in the conference:

Devon Moore falls down, Alioune Diouf is oblivious to the game clock, and the Dukes never get a shot off. Hofstra wins.

JMU Sports Blog's suavely named Rob had the following to say after the loss: "I don’t know what else to say. Todd and I aren’t even pissed. We’re numb. And as fans that might actually be worse." A week prior, the Dukes bloggers titled a post Poop > JMU. Going out on a limb here, but I think Madison fans might be slightly more aggravated with their team that we are with ours.

I suppose it's all a matter of expectations. JMU entered conference play with a 7-4 record, then lost 5 straight CAA games. The Tribe came in 2-10 and danced with the hobgoblin of small minds. Consistency, thy name is the Tribe just failing to make enough plays at the right time, even as it isn't a descriptor of W&Ms' performance this season. And maybe that's the thing that keeps me positive about this team - the effort, the individual ability, the system are all there, but not at the same time. My futile superbrain believes this team is capable of...something.

The winner of tonight's tickle fight takes sole possession of the coveted 9th spot in the CAA standings. W&M topped JMU, 68-61, in Williamsburg earlier in the season, but the Dukes go into the game 8 point home favorites. That's an outrage, and I plan to write a strongly worded dissent, once I find someone who cares.

Other than Danimal.

Flipped Out

Courtesy of FOG:TB Wheelhouse (R.I.P) Geoff, Ernie Grunfeld ended today's press conference announcing the firing of Flip Saunders as Wizards coach with the following words to live by:

"Just because you're losing doesn't mean you're a loser."

He left out the little known codicil, "Unless you're the Wizards, in which case your loserdom is self-evident."

This picture, taken two years ago, is the last known evidence of Flip Saunders smiling. Until today.

Once in a Lifetime Starts Making Sense

It looks like the new internet piracy laws are stalled in Congress, and so the G:TB and other venerable institutions will have no legal recourse when sketchy organizations like Sports Illustrated and Grantland rip us off. We'll just have to remain one step ahead of them.

Last month, I dreamed up a feature called "Songs I Am Loath to Admit I Do Not Loathe," which is not only grammatically instructional but also loads of fun for the whole family.  Soon after, Grantland debuted their ersatz version, which they lamely subtitled "Revealing the Tunes We Hate to Love." What can you do? It's the Wild West out here. Instead of complaining, I am going to turn the tables on those plagiarist fuckers and write about a song that I actually love-- a song I have always loved-- but a song that only recently started making sense. I'm talking about The Talking Heads' song "Once In A Lifetime."



This is difficult, as I don't want to betray G:TB's masthead and shibboleth, and take myself too seriously. It's much easier, in my old age, to be ironic about pop music. I rarely get the same profound emotional response from music now that I got when I was a kid. Though your bands may have been different, you know what I mean; your emotions were the same. Music could take you to a different planet: Houses of the Holy and Dark Side of the Moon. It could get you wound up: AC/DC and The Cult. It could make you feel subversive: The Minutemen and Black Flag and Minor Threat. It could rock: Sound Garden and Jane's Addiction and Alice in Chains. It could groove: The Clash and INXS and The Jam. And it could make you feel hip: Paul's Boutique and Public Enemy.

But as I got older, it got harder and harder for music to penetrate my consciousness. After college, I started getting into jazz and classical music, and my pop music taste tended towards the ironic psychedelia of Ween. And The Talking Heads. After a frenetic day of teaching math to emotionally disturbed kids, I would unwind by playing Road Rash on the Sega Genesis (I conquered that game, defeated every level, got all the way to the secret "cop level" . . . and the end of the game was so disappointing that I never played video games again). And while I whipped other motorcyclists with chains, beat them with clubs, or whacked them with nunchaku, I would simultaneously listen to either Ween's The Pod, or The Talking Heads.

These days I constantly need new and different music to even pique my interest-- obscure funk and baroque instrumental, Afro-Cuban jazz and underground albino hip-hop (thanks Mark!), mashed up masterpieces by The Hood Internet and Girl Talk. But there are a few of the old bands that still do it for me. While it's hard for me to go back to the days of "Fire Woman," I can still throw on London Calling or Exile on Main Street. And I can still listen to The Talking Heads.

And so I was listening to "Once In A Lifetime" last week and it really hit home. I am lucky enough to say that David Byrne's opening monologue literally applies to my life.

I have found myself living in another part of the world.
I have found myself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife.
And I have asked myself: well . . . how did I get here?

I am sure there are people that have never asked themselves, "How did I get here?" I am sure there are people who imagine this is how it should go down: nice house, cute wife, big car, but not me. I am always thinking: "This is not my beautiful house . . . this is not my beautiful wife . . . how did I get here?"  I have traveled the world. My wife is charming, slender, and attractive. I slice peppers on a granite counter-top in a remodeled kitchen. I have blonde kids. Blonde kids? I am swarthy. And hairy. My friend Melanie once said: "it looks like you stole your children."

I often feel as if I'm having an outer body experience, I'm at the pool, chatting with other moms and dads, my kids swimming around, and I can't believe it. It's like I've infiltrated a secret club. I feel as if I deserve none of this. I appear normal, successful. House, job, wife, etc. I go to dinner parties. How? And I wonder: "Is everyone else winging it? Is everyone else an idiot like me?" Igor gives his weekly report in the comments: he's working his ass off, attending fundraisers, finding employment for disabled folks. How did this happen?

In a week's time, we are getting a dog. A DOG. I love dogs, but it seems like another piece in this bizarre puzzle; now I'll be walking through the park with my two blonde kids and a dog and people will think I'm normal. They will have no knowledge of my actual record with pets, which includes losing a lizard for several months in the dorm room I shared with Rob; having to euthanize another pet lizard of mine because a friend's lizard paralyzed my lizard-- and my euthanization was more cruel than the paralysis-- as I unsuccessfully tried to drown the lizard (iguanas can hold their breath a long time!) and then gas him with with exhaust from my car (my hand starting burning before the lizard croaked) and then finally (and successfully) put him down with a large board. I lost a ghetto conure out an open window. I inadvertently and unknowingly kicked the plug out and froze a monitor lizard to death. I kept a pet box turtle in a house with eight other guys, a box turtle that was allowed to roam loose on the second floor, and would occasionally stumble over the foot of the stairs and clunk down them like a bowling ball. No one will know this when they see me walking my dog.



Getting a dog is even weirder than having children because getting a dog is so premeditated. You have a family meeting and everyone agrees that they want a dog and everyone agrees they will help care for the dog . . . even though you know it's bullshit, and that the kids will love the dog and play with the dog, but rarely care for it. This isn't like having children. Having children you have a different sort of "meeting," and there's not much talk of responsibility-- the meeting is quite fun, in fact, and then nine months later you wonder: "How did I get here? And how did he get here?" But with the dog, you choose to get there, and that's where I am. Living in the song.

And sometimes I think "MY GOD! WHAT HAVE I DONE!"

That's why I'm still driving my 1993 Jeep Cherokee. I've been shopping for a "large automobile" for four years or so-- we've saved the money, done the research, gotten quotes, talked to dealers-- but I can't pull the trigger. I can't add a mini-van to this equation as well. But I will. Things will become even more absurd. This Honda commercial is geared for me and people like me-- people who can't believe they are in the market for a mini-van. It's a brilliant commercial, as it both satirizes the desire and also makes it seem okay. But I'm smarter than an advertising campaign. Right?



My two blonde kids and dog will pile out of the mini-van, and I'll look at the situation and think: "Where does that highway go?" Is this really the life for me? Maybe I should drive my mini-van off the grid. Maybe I should be in a motorcycle gang or bumming around on the beaches of Thailand or helping refugees in Haiti or working as a fishing guide on the Mississippi. But David Byrne reminds us that none of this was actually in our hands to begin with, that we'll go "into the blue again once the money's gone."

It's the "same as it ever was." And so I will let the days go by, and try not to think about how weird everything is. And consider myself incredibly lucky that my life is like "Once in a Lifetime" and not this Talking Heads tune . . .



Talking Heads
Once in a Lifetime (1984)
Once In A Lifetime

And you may find yourself living in a shotgun shack,
And you may find yourself in another part of the world,
And you may find yourself behind the wheel of a large automobile,
And you may find yourself in a beautiful house, with a beautiful wife,
And you may ask yourself-Well...How did I get here?

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

And you may ask yourself
How do I work this?
And you may ask yourself
Where is that large automobile?
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful house!
And you may tell yourself
This is not my beautiful wife!

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...

Water dissolving...and water removing
There is water at the bottom of the ocean
Carry the water at the bottom of the ocean
Remove the water at the bottom of the ocean!

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/in the silent water
Under the rocks and stones/there is water underground.

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

And you may ask yourself
What is that beautiful house?
And you may ask yourself
Where does that highway go?
And you may ask yourself
Am I right?...Am I wrong?
And you may tell yourself
MY GOD!...WHAT HAVE I DONE?

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/in the silent water
Under the rocks and stones/there is water underground.

Letting the days go by/let the water hold me down
Letting the days go by/water flowing underground
Into the blue again/after the money's gone
Once in a lifetime/water flowing underground.

Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...
Same as it ever was...Same as it ever was...