Good afternoon, everybody. Here's some fresh gheorghasbord with A. Whitney Blogger.
Baseball season starts Thursday. And there was much rejoicing. Expect a “green fields of the mind” kind of baseball preview post coming up any minute now. We have top men working on it. Top. Men.
In the meantime, from the Nerd Herd: For the past couple of months, rob and Marls and I have participated in a Strat-o-matic baseball league managing players from the 1980's on middling clubs we assembled. Will Clark is really all I've got, though Cliff Johnson has hit 36 taters in 360 AB's (you do the math). My Tidewater Tides are 67-86 with three 3-game-series to be played over the next three nights. Marls' Queens Kings has the same miserable record, except that I have made 32 transactions since the season started and he hasn't touched his crap team. Kong has 33 dongs. And then there's rob, leading his garbage division at a 76-77 clip. Cecil Cooper's 44 dingers and Jimmy Key have led the way for him. Will he make the playoffs? Will he do so with a winning record? Will Marls or I finish worst in the league (as we are now)? All this and more. Stay tuned!
Vinny Green Balls
The NFL Draft is a month away, but that doesn't prevent daily headlines about it. From the Who Gives a Shit? file cabinet, we announce Whitney's suggested pick for the Washington Football Team: Christian Darrisaw, LT from Virginia Tech. B'more guy who did some time at Fork Union Military Academyprior to becoming a Hokie. FUMA, known for Vinny Testaverde and Don Majkowski and Mike Quick and Plaxico and Anthony Castonzo and Morgan Moses and a whole mess o' Buckeyes like Eddie George. And Mel Turpin. And Jerry Richardson and Kevin Plank and The Big Lebowski. And Weenie Reynolds, our fraternity buddy.
It's also known to me as the school in the Virginia Prep League we'd play every fall. My junior year we lost to them at home, 10-7, on a last-second FG. So sad, as it would have meant we registered two wins instead of one that special season. A year later we bused up to FUMA, focused on revenge. We trailed at the half, 53-0. It didn't get better from there. The kids working the chains (the best part of life at FUMA, I'd gauge) got into the game against us in the 4th quarter. So sad, as it would have meant we registered two wins instead of one that special season.
Happy Birthday to Maimonides (whb 886), Jethro Tull (280), Francisco Goya (whb 275), Vincent Van Gogh (whb 168), Sean O'Casey (whb 141), Sonny Boy Williamson (whb 107), John Astin (91), Eric Clapton (76), Warren Beatty (84), Paul Reiser (65), Charlie Weis (65), MC Hammer (59), Tracy Chapman (57), Ian Ziering (57), Piers Morgan (56), Celine Dion (53), Secretariat (whb 51), Norah Jones (42), Sergio Ramos (35), Richard Sherman (33), Brooke Bush (21), and, I'm guessing, lots of other people. You're having cocktails and a fine feast of food at your house for an extended evening of conversation and post-meal activities of your choice (anything from Uno to leg wrestling); which four (4) of these people are you inviting to join you? If you like, you can pick the version of them from any age/era of their lives.
Norfolk brewery to host adult-only Easter egg hunt. Did anyone else's mind go to a dirtier place than the reality is? It's beer tickets in the eggs. And candy and toys, which aren't that adult. I expect there should at least be some cussing. Maybe some drunks. Probably not nudity. I guess they just hate kids. Fair enough.
All the news that's fit to printtells us that “the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention warned of 'impending doom' from a potential fourth surge of the pandemic.” Keep it wrapped until you're vaxxed. Godspeed, good people.
That said, whenever our annual summit resumes being in-person, we have the sign at the door, ready to roll.
A little bit of throwback G:TB, a soupçon of word association, and some observations and ephemera from a sports-watching weekend.
And so in order:
Back in the day, we used to celebrate the Washington Post's Peeps Diorama contest by using Peeps as a extended riff throughout the NCAA Men's basketball tournament. The contest petered out in 2017, and one could argue we petered out long before that. Until the last two years. Comeback Blog of the Year! Peeps are still an acquired taste - another G:TB similarity - and Pepsi hopes enough folks have an affinity for saccharine sweet fluff and various chemical combinations to take a flier on their newest product.
Kristin Salaky from delish did us all a favor and tried the concoction. Her verdict?
"While I am all for a wacky food combo, this is one I probably won't be sipping on every day simply because it's SO SO sweet. But like downing the entire ear of a bunny cake on Easter, it's fun to have a few seasonal foods when they come around, even if they are a little much for your palate. At the very least you'll have plenty of bragging rights."
Marls is our designated eater of weird shit, but I don't feel right about asking him to take this one for the team. We'll take Ms. Salaky's word for it.
Speaking of the olden times, Whitney and I spent a lot of time in the 90s and early 21st century at They Might Be Giants shows. He texted me a few days ago asking for my 10 most-favorite TMBG tunes. I was able to narrow it down to 22, with Doctor Worm taking the top spot. So when I started thinking about a theme song for an Elite Eight post, this naturally popped into my head.
There's a lot not to love about a pandemic-flavored tournament, but the weekend Sweet Sixteen is on the short list of COVID-forced changes that the NCAA should think about adopting. Time zones are a possible issue, but it's cool to be able to watch all eight games in their entirety. And having hoops on Monday and Tuesday won't suck, either.
Got to watch most of both USMNT games during this international break. Even as we still haven't had the full World Cup qualifying side together, there are lots of reasons to be optimistic about the Yanks. 18 year-olds Gio Reyna and Yunus Musah teamed up with Christian Pulisic to have a major impact on yesterday's 2-1 win over Northern Ireland. The victory was Team America's first road win over a European opponent since 2015, and the first U.S. win in the British Isles since, well, ever.
When Tyler Adams and Weston McKennie join the midfield, the U.S. will boast starters that play at Chelsea (Pulisic), Dortmund (Reyna), Juventus (McKennie), RB Leipzig (Adams), Barcelona (Sergino Dest), Manchester City (Zach Steffen), and Valencia (Musah). We've got some firepower.
I've had a chance to watch five or six Gonzaga games this year, including yesterday's inexorable wearing down of Creighton. They may not win it all, but there's an argument to be made that Mark Few's team is the best "mid-major" in history. And they're a blast to watch, all flow and movement on offense, and capable of locking down on defense when it matters. They're number one in KenPom's adjusted offense ratings, and seventh in adjusted defense. (Interestingly, Houston is the only team left that's also in the top 10 in both. Michigan's close.) People like Mark Few, but he's not a self-promoter, so I think he's underrated even now. Pulling for the Zags to close it out.
The most anticipated hoops tournament game of the weekend tips off before march madness begins.
River Walk Region top seed UCONN takes on fifth-seed Iowa in a Sweet 16 matchup in San Antonio. The teams aren't really the story. The matchup features two of the most celebrated and accomplished freshmen in the game's history.
Iowa's Caitlin Clark led the nation in scoring. And assists. She shot 47% from the field and averaged 26.7 points and 7.2 assists/game. The 6' guard has range unlike most women, routinely scoring from 25 feet, which extends opposing defenses and allows the explosive Hawkeyes to take advantage of the space created as a result. In Iowa's second-round win over Kentucky, Clark outscored the entire Wildcat team in the first half, 24-22, before slowing down to finish with 35.
Bueckers, meanwhile, is the front-runner for NCAAW Player of the Year. She averages a couple fewer points (19.9) and a dime less (6.0) than Clark, but she's as dominant a court presence as the country's seen in a while. No less an expert than Diana Taurasi said that Bueckers, "...has got way more confidence than I did", calling the 5'11" guard "the best player in basketball already". To steal Peter Gammons' description of Pedro Martinez, Bueckers has duende - a stylish athletic arrogance that makes it hard to take your eyes off her when she's on the court.
The game tips at 1:00, a tasty appetizer for a day full of delicious hoops. Iowa probably doesn't have the ammunition to stay with the Huskies, but it's got the hallmarks of a blast. And we may get three more years of Iowa/UCONN with Clark and Bueckers.
Rob and I used to crush some wieners. Frankfurters, that is. When we lived together in Arlington and Falls Church from 1993-1996, we had limited funds and limitless appetites. Hence, having our mail forwarded to the Cowboy Cafe. But hot dogs are cheap eats for young men on a budget.
On an only distantly related note, my dad moved house in 1994, and he unloaded two items of note on his favorite son: (1) a mishmash case of liquor that wasn't making the move, and (2) an item I can only guess was a gift to him, and maybe a gag one at that.
1. The Liquor. While I recall a bottle of Bacardi and some bourbon in the mix, it was predominantly Scotch. My dad had become a Johnnie Walker black purist over the years, so this was a leftover assortment of Dewar's, J&B, and the like. The problem being that neither Rob nor I (nor our old buddy Spoid, who lived in a glorified closet in the same house) drank Scotch. One night Rob determined that he'd become a Scotch drinker once and for all, if only for the free booze. It lasted about 15 minutes, until he emptied the glass into the sink with a grimace.
2. The Other Thing. What accompanied the hooch was a kitchen appliance, diminutive in stature and reputation but enormous in impact in our young lives. It was a hot dog toaster. A Skymall special. A small device that toasted two frankfurter buns while warming the dogs at the same time. Simul-toasting, if you will.
All of you, behold... the Hot Diggity Dogger.
Which I just realized Rob heralded in Gheorghemas 2016. Dammit, man. No matter. That's not the point of this GTB post.
I lost the original Dogger along the way. I bought one for Rob for his wedding, if I recall. I bought another for myself at some point. I believe I may have lost that one in a divorce, if that's even possible. But recently I remedied that, albeit in knock-off form. ($20 and at your doorstep in 48 hours, keen shoppers.) And yeah, the weight loss program is going swimmingly.
Anyway, 'tis true, we've eaten more than our fair share of dogs.
Locally here, wieners are kind of a big deal. There's something called "Norfolk-style dogs," with its own Wikipedia page (perhaps the thinnest one ever). I enjoy Famous Uncle Al's in downtown Norfolk, Doug's in Ocean View, Lew's near the airport, and Harbor Park watching the Tides. And the classic for over a century, Doumar's. The King for decades here was Tony, and when Tony's Hot Dog's closed a handful of years ago, it mattered to frank-lovers all over town: "This city’s hot dog is an 80-year tradition. Will it die?"
And then there's my personal favorite: Perfectly Frank, a tiny greasy spoon right by Old Dominion University. My daughters and I have been going in there for years. And now they go there with their friends, without me. (Tear.) P Frank, as the cool kids call it, is an outstanding neighborhood staple.
Here's P Frank's menu. What more could you want on a college kid budget? A killer Patty Melt, a hot dog, crinkle fries, their damn fine secret sauce, and $1 fatty Nattys in happy hour? Come on.
And then they went and did something... and made it even better. Their front sidewalk sandwich board usually has stuff like this that they did for St. Patrick's Day.
But then they put this out there.
Which begat this -- a bulletin board on which any customer can buy a meal for a future stranger and tack the receipt. Then someone who can't make it happen on a given day comes in and gets some grub. No questions asked.
Just doing a little something to make our part of the world a little brighter -- in a contagious, community-funded way. It even got a little national attention. Anyone who says that giving a couple of chili dogs and fries to people who may lack healthcare gets a slap. See the beauty in this, and when in my town, head over to P Frank. Suck down a couple of chili dogs (that link makes me laugh more than it should) and a cold beer or a soda with chunk-let ice. Maybe some seasoned taters or a sausage. Maybe watch some of the Monarchs game on the tube, and have an amusing back and forth with the staff or a local. And then buy a quick meal for somebody you'll never meet.
Posting the very first thing that sprung to mind when I was trying to think of something related to Hashemites. Bonus in that it's one of the silliest lyrics in rock and roll history.
This didn't go very well the first time, so let's see if can get it right this time. This afternoon in San Antonio, the Atlantic 10 champion VCU Rams take on Indiana in the first round of the NCAA Women's Basketball tournament.
VCU's the 13th seed in the Mercado Region. I believe that's named for a Latino boy band, but I may not have read all the details. The Rams finished fifth in league play, and survived an overtime to beat fourth-seeded Rhode Island in the tournament quarters before topping top-seeded Dayton to reach the championship game. VCU outscored UMASS by 10 in the fourth quarter to take the title by an 81-69 score.
This is VCU's second appearance in the NCAA Tournament, and first since 2009. Unlike the men's team at VCU, the distaff Rams are led by seniors. 5'10" senior guard Taya Robinson led the Rams in scoring and steals. Her classmate, 6'0" Kiwi guard Tera Reed, scored 11.7 points, grabbed 5.0 boards, and led VCU in assists. 5'10" senior forward and Richmond native Sydnei Archie scored nearly 10 points per game and grabbed 7.4 boards. And serving notice for the future, diminutive frosh guard Sarah Te-Biasu scored 19 in the A-10 title game and averaged 11 points, 3. 4 boards, and nearly three assists per game.
The Rams, coached by Beth O'Boyle, have a roster that's decidedly diverse. Eight of the Rams' 16 players grew up out outside the U.S., hailing from places as far-flung as Russia, Lithuania, Australia, New Zealand, and...Canada. Lotta Canadians in black and gold.
Indiana's pretty heavily favored, but it's the tournament, and things happen.
Things, for example, like the NCAA completely shitting the bed on accommodations for the women's tournament. Gross incompetence or neglect? You make the call. I think I'll let Sally Jenkins air it out, as she did in this Washington Post editorial. After laying out the case in detail, she closes with this: "If they seem to seethe with a special intensity, that’s because they’re not small slights; they’re a lifetime worth of frustrations, of chronic insults and grudging advance, of being told that they’re worth less. And they’re tired of it. Forty years worth of tired."
Ever since I've been affiliated with William & Mary, my college hoops rooting has been defined in the negative space. I root *for* the Tribe, and against UNC, Duke, Richmond, Syracuse, and a few others. I flirted with being a Maryland fan during the Juan Dixon years, but that was mostly because they were competitive against the aforementioned UNC and Duke.
Over the past decade or so, as we've developed relationships with fellow CAA fans, I've come to root for some of those teams when they're playing intersectionally, and always in the NCAA Tournament. And because of FOGTB Mike Litos, I've remained fond of VCU even after they left the CAA for the Atlantic 10.
Now that I have a daughter who's a student at VCU, I qualify as a full-fledged fan. I've got a HAVOC t-shirt. I know Bones Hyland's real first name (Nah'Shon). I hate the University of Richmond even more. (That part feels natural.)
My Rams were picked 9th in the preseason A-10 poll, mostly because they're very young. They feature a true freshman starting point guard in Ace Baldwin, and the aforementioned Hyland is a sophomore, and the A-10 Player of the Year. Their nine-deep rotation includes two seniors, two juniors, and five underclassmen.
Led by a deep, versatile offense (only Hyland and junior forward Vince Williams average more than 10 points per game, while the next seven on the roster average between 4.5 and 7.2 per) and a typically stout defense (the Rams were 11th in the nation in Adjusted Defense according to KenPom) Mike Rhoades' squad went 19-7 and finished second in the A-10, losing in the conference tournament final to St. Bonaventure.
VCU is the tenth seed in the West Region of the NCAA Tournament. They take on PAC-12 regular season champion Oregon tomorrow evening at 9:57 EDT. The Ducks are basically a funhouse mirror image of VCU. Their offense is ranked 15th in KenPom's adjusted standings, while their defense is middle of the pack.
Oregon's favored by 5. I feel like it's a closer game than that and VCU's hurt by their league's image as compared to a Power 5 foe. But what the heck do I know? Other than the fact that the Peppas are the best pep band in the nation.
Audience-participation post in honor of our Irish brothers and sisters. I'll start with the one you'd expect from me.
Whitney
The photo at right takes me back to a St. Pat's that lives in infamy. The sad, sobering story of that long, long day shan't be told in these annals, but is rather shared along with a couple of pints with a trusted friend. The event was called The Saint Patrick's Day Massacre, and it's never related above a furtive murmur. But when someone forwarded me a pic of this pin this week, it all came rushing back. Be safe, lads and lasses, and may the road rise to you. But not so quickly that your face is smashed by the pavement.
Now back to the music and your regschedipshit.
Marls: I’ll add a bit of 1990’s NYC dipshittery to the mix:
We're still on that NFT tip this morning, while we're also searching Google Translate to find the Spanish words for Gordie Howe hat trick to capture the day Erik Lamela had this weekend.
Lamela is an attacking player for Tottenham Hotspur in the English Premier League. He entered Sunday's game against Arsenal (the North London Derby is one of the country's most heated rivalries) early in the first half after an injury to Heung-min Son. Late in the same half, he proceeded to do this:
For the uninitiated, that's called a rabona. Lamela, who's notoriously left-dominant, found himself in a position where he couldn't strike the ball with his right foot, so he whipped his left across and behind the right and struck it perfectly through the defender's legs and into the corner of the goal. Check out the reaction of teammate Sergio Reguilon (number 3), who's more amazed than than happy at Lamela's absurd strike.
Later, Lamela received a yellow card. And then, a few minutes later, he lashed out with his right hand while shielding the ball and hit Arsenal's Kieran Tierney in the face, earning a second yellow card and an ejection. Spurs lost, 2-1.
And if you were wondering, the phrase we were looking for is Tres Tantos de Gordie Howe.
Our legislative affairs correspondent in the Outer Banks weighs in meatily. And since he's subcontracted posting to me because he claims that he's just a simple caveman blogger and doesn't understand this newfangled technology, I believe this post is relevant to my employment status.
A piece of legislation working its way through Congress applies to few of you and is by no means a cinch to pass, so of course I’ll bore you with details.
H.R. 842, the Preserving the Right to Organize (PRO) Act, is labor legislation that aims to bolster the rights of workers to negotiate for higher wages, increased benefits and safer work environments. It was introduced by Rep. Bobby Scott (D-Va.), chair of the Labor and Education Committee and a liberal presence in the House of Representatives for almost 30 years, with beaucoup Dem co-signers.
Hard out here for a pimp in the jig economy
The PRO Act debate lines up predictably on many fronts. Many left-leaning advocates argue that worker rights and benefits have eroded, particularly during the pandemic. They say that workers must be able to organize and unionize without retribution, and that companies should be held accountable for monkeying with those efforts. Conservative critics gripe about union over-reach, added cost to businesses, right-to-work legislation already on the books, and onerous government control.
Except it’s not quite that simple. Among those who could be hurt by the PRO Act are segments of the self-employed, retirees and semi-retirees who do consulting work, freelance writers (raising my hand), and part-time workers. In short, independent contractors who arrange work with various employers. If certain criteria aren’t met, companies could not classify someone as a contract worker and would be required to hire them full-time to comply with the law. In some cases, companies would opt out and work opportunities would simply evaporate. In others, workers would opt out, rather than subject themselves to the constraints of full-time employment.
Austen Bannen, a senior policy analyst for the conservative, Koch brothers-founded Americans for Prosperity, wrote that the PRO Act “would hurt both employers and employees by putting numerous government roadblocks to the flexible work arrangements both are seeking. Instead of being able to work your own way as an independent contractor, the PRO Act could lead to both government and unions dictating the terms of your employment.”
I’m forever skeptical when pro-business mouthpieces yammer about what’s best for workers, since many corporations regard workers as furniture with a pulse. But in this case, there’s at least a kernel of truth. Whether by force or by choice, the gig economy is upon us and expanding.
The PRO Act would introduce a three-prong, ABC test to determine if someone should be classified as an employee and not an independent contractor. According to language within the draft of the bill: “An individual performing any service shall be considered an employee and not an independent contractor, unless,
A)“The individual is free from control and direction in connection with the performance of the service, both under contract for the performance of service and fact;
B)“The service is performed outside the usual course of the business of the employer;
C)“The individual is customarily engaged in an independently established trade, occupation, profession, or business of the same nature as that involved in the service performed.
An independent consultant might pass B) and C), but flunk A) if an employer dictates terms of service. A freelance writer might pass C), but flunk A) and certainly flunk B), since articles are part of the “usual course of business” for publications.
A similar bill passed the House of Representatives last year, but died because the Republican-controlled Senate refused to take it up. Now, with a 50-50 Senate split and VP Harris holding the tiebreaker vote, many think the current bill will at least get a hearing. Several conservative Dems and those whose constituents are less than thrilled with the bill could decide its fate and take Harris out of the equation.
The PRO Act is comparable to one that went into effect in California in 2020. Assembly Bill 5 (AB5), the so-called “gig worker bill,” required companies that use independent contractors to re-classify them as employees, with some exceptions. It was aimed at companies that hire a lot of independent workers, such as Uber, Lyft and DoorDash. However, it also swept up still and video photographers, editors, freelance writers, content contributors and artists.
Griping grew so loud that California amended the bill – twice. One piece of legislation created exemptions for many workers, such as writers and artists. A ballot initiative allowed app-based drivers to remain independent contractors.
Near as I can tell, most of you have traditional work. Company structure. Set schedule. Salary. Benefits. But as businesses consolidate or downsize staff, more people are thrown out of work and find themselves part of the gig economy. As many of you approach your seventh decade, you may choose to hop off the hamster wheel and peddle your knowledge and expertise part-time or as a freelancer, because you prefer the flexibility or because companies increasingly lean that direction in employment practices.
No telling what the PRO Act will look like after Congresscritters start slicing and dicing. Certainly, workers deserve protection and fair wages (hello, meat packers and supply chainers in a pandemic). But one-size-fits-all legislation that caters to unions in an evolving economy appears unwise. Babies and bath water, and all that.
Days ago, ink was spilled here about Jeff Bezos' feeble charitable donations, in relation to both the size of his fortune and the generous donations made by his ex-wife MacKenzie Scott (who I sorta have a crush on, although that may be because she is a billionaire). It appears that the ripple here created a cyber-tsunami in Seattle that compelled Bezos to action.
Let's set the table first. Bezos deserves some plaudits for charitable giving. He created the Bezos Earth Fund with a $10 billion pledge in February 2020. He vowed that the organization would work to combat climate change. However, the organization did very little philanthropic work early on. After nine months in existence, the group made its first donation last November - $791 million in grants to 16 different organizations (The Nature Conservancy, World Wildlife Foundation, Environmental Defense Fund, etc). You know, pandas and shit.
This was a great start. But it is hard for the odds to get good press to be ever in his favor, even after this news. You see, Bezos has a net worth of $162 billion from his shares of Amazon alone. His total net worth is estimated at ~$200 billion. This is a preposterous amount of money. And yes - $10 billion is big - but it's about 5% of his worth. So donating 7.9% of that 5%, well, is not exactly denting his the checking account a his local credit union. (Editor's note: 7.9% of 5% is 0.4%)
So fast forward to early March. A bunch of devilishly clever and sly folks note on this very corner of the interwebs noted that Scott has been a passionate and committed philanthropist. Days later, news comes out that Bezos, the one super-duper rich guy who has not yet signed onto the Giving Pledge, vowed to spend the full $10 billion by 2030, implying a cool $1 billion/year spending cadence. Link is here if you want to read the story.
Note to Jeff - if you want to keep trying to buy good press with billions in charitable donations, go for it!!! We'll cyber-fellate you all day long if you use your knowledge of technology and logistics to battle climate change and wealth inequality. Go give Bill & Melinda Gates a run for their money.
When reached for comment, Bezos stated that Bezos Earth Fund was inspired by George Costanza's The Human Fund.
On December 5, 2008, what's widely regarded as the most remarkable event in prognostication history came to pass right here in this cobwebbed little corner of the internet. Mark and I made independent predictions about the result of the upcoming SEC Championship football game between Alabama and Florida. It so happened that we both expected Florida to win by a 31-20 score.
Towards the end of the game, our late (in internet terms), lamented friend Wheelhouse Jerry offered this comment, "If the game ends at this score, I'm prepared to designate this the most outstanding achievement in the history of the internet."
The game, my friends, ended at that score. Florida 31, Alabama 20. Mark and I are linked throughout history by our brilliance and vision.
I didn't think I'd ever do anything to even get close to matching that accomplishment. But life's a funny thing. It's like, unpredictable and stuff.
Allow me to explain.
For a while now, I've been part of an email thread with a group of CAA superfans and media members who represent teams from across the league (and some that aren't even in the league any longer). They all know a lot more about hoops than I do, but they let me slum with them because I think they like the W&M cache. I get a ton of inside skinny about what's happening across the league, and we exchange good-natured banter about how sketchy JMU's athletic administration is.
On February 27, I sent this email to the group:
Elon was the hottest team in the league at the end of this weird season, and I really did think they'd get past both Towson and JMU. The Dukes had only played once since February 14, and they were missing CAA POY Matt Lewis due to injury. Drexel was the six seed, but they were ranked as high as anyone else in KenPom and other metrics. It was a tossed-off prediction, but it wasn't made without logic. (Ignore the Hofstra over Drexel pick in the first round - I obviously meant Delaware. Bygones.)
Nailed every game of the CAA Tournament, including only the second 8 over 1 upset in league history. Only thing I got wrong was the length of the final, but I hedged that by dropping a sawbuck on Drexel -3.5 in advance of the game.
I'm pretty good at this stuff, once every 13 years or so. Like a prognosticating cicada.
With recent homegrown, in-GTB music being posted from Dave and zdaughter, Les Coole gets a little FOMO. Last week, he and The Cukes released a pair of songs, one new and one 15 years old.
The new one: virtual music collaborations are in increasing supply during the pandemic. Technology enabled this creation like nothing else could have. Three good friends of mine from high school, one of whom lives in New Orleans, contributed tracks of guitar, drums, bass, Hammond B3 organ, and background vocals.
30-some years ago, the four of us used to go see shows at nearby Hampton Coliseum, a 10k-14k capacity arena opened just more than a half-century ago. Fast fact: The venue held its first event on December 1, 1969, the College of William and Mary vs. North Carolina State University in a college basketball game. The Virginia Squires also played some of their home games there.
A laundry list of music's top stars have performed there, including Elvis, Springsteen, U2 (I remember my friends camping out for tickets to the Joshua Tree show; I wasn't that cool), and the Stones, whose 1981 show was recorded and released as Still Life and in full form here. Mick got a few local grins when he followed the show's opener of "Under My Thumb" (a great version) with:
Hey, welcome, Virginia. Welcome, Hampton. And welcome to everyone watching it on TV. Hope you're having a good time there drinkin' a few beers, smokin' a few joints at home wit' you, allll right.
Dave and I saw The Cult in Hampton in 1990 or so. FOGTB Lecky reached down to grab a tambourine that singer Ian Astbury brilliantly threw into the crowd down in front. He came up with a couple of fingers barely attached. But it was a good show otherwise.
For the Grateful Dead, Hampton Coliseum was a regular tour stop. 21 times, including two shows in 1989 appearing as The Warlocks owing to Hampton's weariness of "Shakedown Street," the traveling Deadhead bazaar and its lovably (to some) grubby, narcotic-bringing, trash-leaving inhabitants. I attended the first night of this stand, which was eventually given the box set treatment.
That group of friends saw more than our fair share of Dead shows there in high school, among many other offerings. Two Novembers ago, I went back to the Coliseum for Dead and Company show that brought back all the feels, including the neighborly pass-along ones.
Phish picked up where the Dead left off at Hampton Coliseum. "The mothership" was a mainstay, sometimes for a trio of shows at a time, and in 1999, the six-disc Hampton Comes Alive was released. Other than that, the venue had been dormant in recent years, at least relative to its heyday in the 70's and 80's. Plenty of Disney Princesses on Ice and such. I did see a terrific Pearl Jam show a few years ago.
I used to travel past the Coliseum twice a night when grad school class was in person. One night a song idea struck me, and by the time I got home, most of the words were written, via voice to text. For months to come, I dabbled in Les Coole Studios on my third floor, sketching out a song structure thanks to the aforementioned NOLA-dwelling friend Ned. Tracks would be exchanged on Dropbox, and here's the result.
The Coliseum
The Coliseum / Lay in ruins
Wasn’t nothin' / Nothin' doin So many Dead / So long ago
The sun had set / On the old live show Around the bend / A moonlight drive
Lights are up / She comes alive
CHORUS
Recount the times we came to see ‘em
Playing in The Coliseum
History like a museum
Hear it at The Coliseum
Gladiators / They don’t fight
But sloshy moshers / They just might No emperors / On golden thrones
But skeletons / They shake their bones The ghosts they fly / The boss, the king
The edge, the stones / They let Phil sing
CHORUS
BRIDGE
Tonight in old Virginia / I’m the evening Squire
So run with me and can’t you see / the Scarlet in the Fire?
All the shows / And all the showmen
Ancient now / But we’re still roamin’ So pack a bag / And hop a train
Or hitch a ride / Back home again 50 points / Of colored light
The mothership / She flies tonight
CHORUS
Song 2: Just One More
15 years ago, Ned and I exchanged some song ideas about the end of the summer here at the beach. I wrote a whole lot of lyrics. Ned roughed out a scratch track for guitar with a drum track behind it. I found myself in the Crescent City for work, and I spent an afternoon in his home studio laying the vocals down. And left town.
Around the holidays, a CD appeared in many of our friends' mailboxes. Ned had fleshed out the recording with a couple of his friends adding bass and a whopped of a harmonica track. The Last Resort was the makeshift name of the band we'd had in high school, and that name was attached to this song, called "Just One More." Les Coole and The Cukes have absorbed it, and it gets a formal release 15 years after its creation.
483 words, including "panoply" in 2 minutes and 42 seconds. Yeah, it's a lot. I'm happy that we immortalized our old friend Bill, who died in October 2019 from the flu, which just had to be COVID. And happy that it gets a new light of day.
In that preview, I wrote this, "Says here that anything better than 10 wins in the Wrens' 26 scheduled games would be impressive. Also says here that playing more than half of those 26 games might constitute good fortune." The Tribe finished this bizarre, dare I say stupid season with a 6-9 record, 4-6 in the CAA. So they played more than half of their games. Yay?
As a league, the CAA was an embarrassment in terms of its management of COVID-related scheduling. The Colonial was DFL in the NCAA in terms of percentage of scheduled games played, completing 56.9% of the 90 games on the slate at the beginning of the year. The NCAA average was 85.9%. FOGTB Jerry Beach wrote the following in his CAA Tournament preview:
"The scattershot nature of the regular season schedule created a silent but detectable tension within the league — with rescheduling decisions left up to the teams, some coaches felt their peers were less eager to play something close to a full schedule — and also made scouting and projecting the tournament harder than ever."
If the stories get told, that "silent but detectable tension" would make for a hell of a yarn. Delaware cancelled a game against W&M because they didn't have enough healthy players - not due to COVID, but to injury - and the league (and the Tribe) let it go. JMU got to 8-1 and suddenly found it challenging to schedule games. Convenient, that. Drexel wanted to take on all comers, but nobody really went out of their way to take on the Dragons. Suffice it to say that the CAA league office demonstrated a total lack of juice, and if this half-assed season is the league's swan song, it's out with something even less noisy than a whimper.
As for me, I watched a lot of Big Ten games. Saw a whole lot more Chase Audige than Luke Loewe, if we're being honest. And if we're being petty.
The Tribe's season was too incomplete to offer any kind of analysis. Dane Fischer's team showed a few glimpses, sweeping Towson when they got into a bit of a rhythm. But W&M went on COVID-related hiatus and came out of it just in time to lose a pair of games by an average of 20 points to an Elon team that lost its first seven games of the league season. Heading into today's tournament opener, the Tribe has played just those two games since January 31.
There were a meager handful of bright spots for the Wrens. Connor Kochera was named CAA Rookie of the Year yesterday on the strength of scoring 13.9 ppg and making 37% of his threes. Loewe continued his steady improvement, averaging 16.0 ppg and leading the team in assists. He was named to the All-CAA Second Team. Mekhel Harvey should've been the CAA Defensive Player of of the Year, blocking 3.3 shots per contest while only averaging 20.5 minutes. He and Loewe both made the league's All-Defense team.
But honestly, the sooner this season is over, the better. As I wrote in that season preview, "I'm afraid that Nathan Knight's professional contract may well be the highlight of the season for Tribe fans." I see no reason to come off that prediction.
As for the tournament itself, read Beach's preview if you want intelligent analysis. I'm picking Drexel to win it all from the 6 seed, and I'm taking Elon to beat JMU in an 8 over 1 upset. Karma's a bitch, Dukes.
I've listened to a wide array of music styles and genres for a very long time. Clearly. Clearly. Clearly. Makes me happy and rarely bored with music.
If I had to pick one subcategory of rock and roll that's occupied my listening choices for the best part of my last 25 years, though, the somewhat abandoned moniker of "alt-country" (or alt.country for the geekiest among you) probably wins the day. From Uncle Tupleo (of course) through decades of Wilco and less of SonVolt, to our beloved revolutionary sweethearts the Old 97's to the Jayhawks and Ryan Adams, and hell, the Avetts and Drive-By Truckers are pretty much alt-country, and hell, Sturgill and Isbell and Jenny Lewis and even the Cowboy Junkies, and even Neko Case sometimes, and . . .you get it. A lot of stuff I like.
A band I only sorta tuned into along the way was the Bottle Rockets, one o' them outfits that's equal parts Missouri and Misery. I knew and loved the songs "1000 Dollar Car" and "Indianapolis" and a handful of tunes off their first three albums. Our fratre Ethan/Herb got me into Bloodshot Records and artists on that label for a brief spell. Plus, I am partial to bottle rockets. You know, since I was suspended in 1985 for igniting one inside the school hall.
Oh, and the Bottle Rockets did an album called Songs of Sahm as a tribute to Doug Sahm and the Sir Douglas Quintet, whom Z gave some adulation.
They are quite good. Or . . . they were.
On social media as of yesterday:
It’s with a sad heart that we announce this uneasy news: Brian has decided to retire from the Bottle Rockets. Although he’s in good health, he’s been feeling the passage of time and has lost interest in anything that distracts from or takes him away from home. Unfortunately, this means the Bottle Rockets can’t continue as we know it. This is a difficult and emotional outcome for the band, and we share the sense of loss over this ending, but it can also be framed as an opportunity for new directions.
We appreciate our fans, many who have become dear friends over the years, and we thank you for the wonderful 28-year adventure. It was a thrill and we couldn’t have asked for better people to share it with! We sincerely couldn't have done it without your loyal support -- the music lives on through you.
Forever Grateful,
The Bottle Rockets
Message from Bottle Rockets singer Brian Henneman...
Well friends, it’s time. Time to say “so long”. I’m givin’ it up. Packin’ it in. Retiring. I’m done. Been thinkin’ about it this entire time off. I’m more certain of it than anything I’ve ever been certain of before. I’m turning 60 this year. Including my time with Uncle Tupelo, I have been doing this recording/touring thing for 30 years. I don’t consider myself too old to do it anymore, but I do consider myself too old to want to.
Every musician has their own shelf life for doing what they do. Some go on into their 80’s, some quit in their 20’s and never look back. Ol’ Number 60, that’s me. 60 o’clock, that’s quittin’ time for this guy. Kickin’ off my travelin’ shoes and slippin’ on my house shoes. Home is where my passion lies these days. That excites me now the way the band used to.
I have no problem at all with the band. That’s not why I’m leaving. It’s all about where I’m at on the walk of life. I no longer want to travel, don’t really have any burning desire to write songs anymore either. I just want to be a good husband. A good neighbor. A responsible homeowner. A little dog’s daddy. A guitar repairman. A guitar player in my kitchen, and in some local country cover band whenever that scene comes back around. That’s how I want to spend the rest of my days. I want to be home for supper and home for bedtime. Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. I want to experience a “normal life” just as badly now as I did NOT want to in my youth. While I’m still healthy enough to enjoy it. Before I get ancient and impaired. Things change. That’s life. I’m ready and eager for change. Being home for a solid year made me certain of it. I don’t want to miss ANYTHING here anymore.
Mark, John, and Keith all understand where I’m at. That’s such a relief. But they’re damn good guys. The best. Those guys have been the greatest partners a man could ever have. Dedication. Devotion. Turnin’ all the night time into the day. No tellin’ what’s next for them, but knowin’ them like I do, I’d say the sky’s the limit. They all have the musical skills to do anything. A truly “hot shit” band. And, unlike me, they still have the desire to get out there and do it. And they are ULTRA professionals. Keep an eye out for ‘em. I wouldn’t be one bit surprised to see them show up in phenomenal places. I am rooting for them. Them’s my boys. My team. My life partners. Please support them. I know I will. They are the longest running members the band ever had for a reason. They’re the best on so many levels. I love them forever.
Gotta salute Robert Kearns, Tom Parr, and Tom Ray too. All were members of the band I’m bidding farewell to. Everybody did a great job in their own time, in their own way. Everybody.
I gotta be honest, I’m not sad that this is really finally happening. It was bound to happen someday. What does make me kinda sad is that it’s already that day. WTF??? Where did that time go??? See? That’s my point. That’s what made me go through with this. Knowing how the time goes SO fast. I wanna get goin’ on this next phase, before it passes me by as fast as everything else did. I’ve finally reached an age where things get urgent. Available decades are gettin’ slim. Gotta find what you REALLY want and go for it. So I did.
I want to sincerely thank you all from the bottom of my heart. You all supported us for so long. I will never forget that, or take it lightly. I am forever humbled and grateful. It’s been fun, but now it’s done. Surprise ending, yes. But the band had a surprise beginning too, so it seems that’s just how we roll. Maybe the band’s not done at all. Who knows? I just know I won’t be in it. ‘Cause I’m done.
With a year off, and nothing on the books, this was the perfect intersection of time and timing. There would never be a time when leaving would disrupt less. That’s why I did it now. Didn’t wanna make a big deal outta my big deal. Wanted it to be as painless as possible.
So this is where the cowboy rides away. Goodnight now ladies and gentlemen. It’s the end of the show, now it’s time to go.
Maybe I’ll see ya at Home Depot or somethin’…
Brian
Wel'p... that about says it all. I gotta tip my cap to the guy. "On his terms" could not be a more fitting way to say it. Here's hoping that when you eventually hang 'em up, you are as at peace as he is.
Martellus Bennett played 10 seasons at tight end in the NFL for six teams, winning a Super Bowl with New England in 2016 and making the Pro Bowl in 2014 with Chicago. If he has his way, his football career will be a footnote.
Bennett is an imaginative soul who retired in 2018, at the age of 31 with tread remaining on his tires, to focus on creative pursuits. A writer and illustrator, he dreams up fantastical characters and adventures aimed at young black people.
Bennett told Howard Bryant in a story published in The Atlantic, “A lot of my work is me subconsciously trying to validate my childhood, because the childhood I had as a black boy does not exist in the media today. I was more like ‘The Goonies’ than ‘Boyz n the Hood.’”
Indeed, Bennett and older brother Michael Bennett, who also was an NFL player, grew up in Houston. Their father was an IT tech, their mother a middle-school teacher. He was an elite prospect in both football and basketball, as well as an honor student and school band member who built computers with his father as a hobby.
Bennett decries what he sees as structural racism in the NFL and society in general. As a player, he spoke out about the need for police accountability, along with brother Michael and, famously, Colin Kaepernick. Following the deaths of Philando Castile and Alton Sterling at the hands of police officers, Martellus wrote a book called “Dear Black Boy,” aimed at young blacks who won’t have professional sports futures.
Using simple and encouraging language he implored them to cast a broader net and to aim higher.
“The value we place on the athlete is greater than the value we place on the scholar,” Bennett said in The Atlantic piece. “Two kids walk into the barbershop, and one is a pretty good basketball player. People will be like, ‘You gotta watch him. He’s got a jumper. He’s got a shot at the NBA.’ And if a kid comes in and has won two science fairs in a row and got a grant? No one says, ‘That’s the next Mark Zuckerberg.’ Or ‘He’s going to be Bill Gates.’ They don’t celebrate him.”
Among Bennett’s current efforts are children’s fantasy tales, the “Hey A.J.” series, with his young daughter as the basis for the central character. For example, in “Hey A.J., It’s Bedtime,” when her parents turn out the lights, her room comes alive with various toys and creatures who want to party. A.J. must choose between sleep and partying with her friends. Bennett signed a deal last June with Disney to develop an animated series based on the books.
Children’s books have the added benefit of creating bonds between parents and kids, Bennett said in another interview. Kids aren’t simply given a book and left to read for themselves, he said. Parents, or other adults, sit and read to them and with them.
“Black people are treated as second-class citizens in reality and fantasy,” Bennett said in The Atlantic. “I want to build worlds where kids and families of color can come and know that they own it, they belong there, and it’s a magical place.”
I was really jealous. Or envious? I didn't want to storm into an apartment and strangle an adulterous ex-lover in post-coital bliss, and I loved the song. Maybe that's envious?
Anyway, the fact that they got this done in five days boggles my mind. I dabble in audio recording and I NEVER finish anything. I use Logic on my iMac and it's a black hole of effects and AI drummers and digital instruments and extremely powerful tools. It's way over my head.
I'm often staring at screens like this, sliding things and clicking things. These various moves make a BIG difference in the way things sound. And while I've watched a view instructional videos-- usually while riding the exercise bike-- I don't really know what I'm doing. People get paid for this kind of thing.
Once you've recorded all your tracks and you're happy with how things sound-- you've compressed and EQed and all that-- then you've got to mix stuff. Pan things left and right-- get all the levels to the correct volume, and listen to the track on both speakers, computer speakers, and headphones (and maybe even in the car).
THEN-- apparently-- there's another step that I never really figured out, called "mastering." This is when you take that final mix of the track and prepare it to be distributed and played on various media. You can do this in Logic, but you need to know how to use the following tools-- and really use them, not just screw around with them.
I have a passing familiarity with these tools so I tried to do my own mastering in Logic a few weeks ago with a "song" I made based on one of Zman's comments on Sentence of Dave. Apparently, if you write a comment that's funny enough, I'll write a song about it. The result was okay, but I definitely didn't know what I was doing.
First, you squeeze with compression, then you maximize! Don't forget the exciter! Get rid of the low end on the bus reverb BEFORE you use Multiband Compression!
This video was actually kind of useful and less overwhelming. "Use the limiter last so your beat don't sound like trash." Thanks Courtney!
Anyway, this was difficult and exhausting, to say the least. It's a race against time because your ears get tired and can no longer differentiate or remember between what you've done. Usually, artists hand their stuff off to a professional for mastering.
There is another option: mastering software. My friend Neal recommended iZotope Ozone 9, a plugin that has a lot of AI mastering options. He calls it "the turd polisher" because it takes a musical turd and cleans it up (as much as possible). It's kind of expensive, but I qualified for an educational discount so I got it for half price . . . $132. It was money well spent. I still don't understand half of it-- or maybe 90% of it-- but there are enough presets and automated elements to help me play around. And then you've got to trust your ears (and use reference tracks).
Here's one screen (there are lots of these).
Now that I've "mastered' a couple of songs, I can't listen to any of my old songs. They sound muddy and not loud enough. So I've got to go back and "master" those. Yeesh.
This is still not going to help me finish songs all that much faster. I'm always tackling things that are a little beyond me. My newest song is inspired by all the Vietnam movies that I've rewatched with my kids. It's good to revisit that clusterfuck. It reminds you that being in lockdown isn't nearly as bad as being a POW in 'nam. There was no Netflix in the shit.
I wanted to incorporate some samples from Paul Hardcastle's song "19" in my song. "19" was released way back in 1985, when I was fifteen-- and it's stuck with me. Not only did I want some samples from the "19," and a reflection on what it's like to be 19 years old and across the world, mired in a morass of a war with no clear mission, no clear communication, and a major gap between what was happening on the ground and what was being discussed by the brass, but I also wanted the center of the song to feel like a trip to a foreign place.
If you want to read something to understand this, I recommend Mark Bowden's Hue 1968: A Turning Point of the American War in Vietnam. He recounts the Tet Offensive, the capture of the ancient provincial capital city of Hue by the North Vietnamese, and the ensuing epic 24-day battle waged by the Marines and the ARVN to recapture the city . . . the book is a monumental day-by-day account of the heroism, atrocities, propaganda, misinformation, strategy, blunders, civilian casualties, destruction of ancient wonders, Communist purges, political failures, and-- amidst great effort and honor-- the futility of top-down command in warfare. I've read a bunch of Vietnam books and this is my favorite. I've also heard Apocalypse Now is a decent movie.
Here is my Vietnam song. It took WAY longer than five days to make (and I'll probably hear something weird in it and pull it down a week from now!) I wish I could just record something and move on to the next thing, but there are so many buttons and dials and switches and things. I just get lost. Lost in the jungle.
Posts
