We've Moved

Come visit us in our new home.

A New Chapter...

So, Amanda and I are leaving LA tomorrow morning. We set up a blog for our trip (yeah, we're ripping off Howard, so what?), so check back with us over the next few weeks here:

Amanda & Ben's Road Trip

I am going to start a new blog, I think, once we get to Atlanta, but I've got to think about it for a little while. I guess its good that I won't be there for 3 weeks. To those of you who have stuck around since the beginning (Mom, Dad, Andy), I hope you'll be able to make the transition over to the new site, whatever form it ends up taking. It's been a good run. Thanks.

Sorry Folks, Park's Closed. Moose Out Front Should Have Told You

In about 5 minutes, I'm going to shut down my computer, take the elevator to the lobby, and leave downtown Los Angeles for what might be the last time ever. Kind of sad. As much as I never really felt totally at home in LA, I have definitely enjoyed my time here, and I will certainly miss it, along with the great friends I've made.

Now that my time on the Left Coast has come to a close, I'm not sure exactly what the future holds for this blog. I think, rather than changing it, I might start a new one, with some differences here and there, but I haven't really decided yet. I guess this is kind of a crossroads for my internet journalism. And yes, I absolutely consider myself a journalist.

Wish us luck on our cross-country drive. We're heading out first thing Monday morning. First stop, Grand Canyon.

Deadly Sins: One Down, Six to Go

I think we've got gluttony pretty well covered after last night's trip to the "am/pm All You Can Eat Pavilion." This was seriously the most disgusting display of eating I have seen or been a part of that did not involve either hazing or some sort of organized competition won by a 78 pound Japanese man. Our unofficial competition was won by Joshua Barkin, who is neither Japanese, nor 78 pounds. I thought about falsifying my eating accomplishments, and when I mentioned this to Josh, he said "Not me. I want the world to know what I did." So, here are our official unofficial tallies:

Jason: 4 Dodger Dogs, 2-3 Nachos, 2-3 Cokes, some peanuts and a mini Baby Ruth bar.

Ben: 5 Dodger Dogs, 2-3 Nachos, 2 Cokes, 2 Sprites, and some peanuts.

Josh: 8 (EIGHT!!) Dodger Dogs, 3 Nachos, 4 Diet Cokes (b/c he's watching his calorie intake), some peanuts, 5 mini Baby Ruth Bars, and a Bud Light. That's him with his 8th, emerging victorious from the concession line.

Impressive, to say the least. It is worth noting that probably 75% of what we ate happened before the game even started. There's something sort of liberating about walking past the concession stand before you've even gotten to your seats, and picking up 2 Dodger Dogs and a thing of nachos without standing in line or exchanging any money whatsoever.

It was somewhere around Dodger Dog #3 that I started saying things like, "Do you think a 30 year old has ever had a heart attack?" and "You know what would have been perfect? If I had gotten a tapeworm yesterday." Jason also had what was probably the line of the night when he looks at Josh and me with a completely straight face and says, "Ok, serious question. Do you think Kobayashi shits solid or liquid?"

There were also some wildly entertaining exchanges involving one of the guys sitting behind us. Here are two of my favorites:


Guy #1 (sees his friend walking down the aisle): Hey, man!
Friend: What's up, dog. Did you work today or what?
Guy #1: No, man, I got fired!

Then they slapped hands and his friend went to his seat. Here was another good one, shortly after the Baby Ruth guys started throwing mini Baby Ruth bars to everyone in the section (Josh already had a pocketful from when we saw them by the concession stand):

Guy #1 (seeing a bunch of mini Baby Ruth bars on the ground in front of us): Hey, man, get those Baby Ruth bars!
Josh: I already have a bunch of them, why do I need more?
Guy #1: I don't know, to throw them at people!
Josh: Who am I going to throw them at?
Guy #1: I don't know, anybody!
Josh: It's not that fun, you know.

All in all, it was an excellent time. I would probably never want to do it again, though. I think I'm still burping up pieces of food.

Number 6, I think...

Josh with his "nacho dog." The best invention since floating head doctor.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game...

Tonight I'm going to what will probably be my last game at Dodger Stadium, with Josh and Jason, who are sending me off in style. You see, Dodger Stadium now has an all-you-can-eat section, and that is where we'll be sitting. Beer is off-limits, but everything else is fair game. Nachos, soft drinks, peanuts, popcorn, and yes, Dodger Dogs will be at our fingertips until the top of the 7th. Needless to say, it's gonna be an unhealthy evening. I foresee a salad in my lunch plans tomorrow.

I'll try to update during the game with some pictures of our gluttony.

What Happens in Vegas Stays in Vegas. Hopefully.

In the future, when we're all travelling around with jet-packs, will that eliminate the need for cars? If so, then the future will be a much better place, at least for me.

I was going to be shipping my car to Atlanta, since Amanda and I are going to drive hers across the country, and that was going to cost me around $1,100 - $1,200. Then I found out my friend Howard was planning to rent a car and drive from LA to D.C. for his brother's graduation, and he's always wanted to drive cross-country. Coincidentally, it was going to cost him about the same amount to rent the car for a one-way trip. After talking about it for roughly 45 seconds, we decided that he would just drive my car to Atlanta and fly up to D.C., saving us both upwards of $1,000.

Just to be safe, I took my car to the shop last week to have everything checked out. I specifically asked them to check the coolant (note the foreshadowing), since he'd be driving across the desert. They checked it all out and said the engine was fine, but I needed new rear struts and rear tires. $860. Awesome.

So, Howard leaves Tuesday morning. Incidentally, you can read about his drive on this blog he started. Anyway, he calls me from Vegas (VEGAS!!) where he had just finished having lunch with a friend, and the car overheated when he got back on the highway. He immediately pulled off the highway and into a conveniently placed mechanic's parking lot, whereupon the car immediately went dead. Turns out the coolant reserve tank had cracked, overheating the car. Four hours, much stress, and $240 later, Howard was back on the road. Turns out that $1,100 I saved in shipping went right into maintenance. Great. I'm just glad he's ok (and that the car seems to be ok too). He hasn't had any problems since (knock on wood).

As if that wasn't enough, I was on the bus on my way home from work that afternoon, and the bus I was on broke down a little more than halfway home. Everybody had to get off and wait for the next bus to come pick us all up. They were all pretty pissed. I sort of expected it. When it rains, it pours, I guess.

(That's not really my car, in that picture. I just thought it was appropos.)

Anyway, my car will hopefully make it to Atlanta next Thursday, if all goes according to plan. Howard's on his way to see the Giants/Rockies game at Coors Field right now. I told him to start a "Barry Sucks" chant for me.

We Put the Spring in Springfield

Are they talking about the Bordello? No, the burlesque house, keep your voice down!

I guess these things are all over the place, but I was SO excited last night when Amanda and I got to the movie theater with our friend Naomi to see The Year of the Dog (skip it), to find this in the lobby. I immediately ran over to it and handed Amanda my cell phone with a "You have to take my picture!" request. She made some sort of comment about how it's funny that I'm her fiance, because it seemed like I might be her son instead, or something like that. I don't know, I was too excited to sit next to Homer on the couch that I wasn't really processing what she was saying. But I mean, seriously, can you blame me?

Sadly, there was no photo op with Groundskeeper Willie, Krusty, or Moe Szyzlak. That would have been awesome. This Simpsons movie is either going to be awesome or the worst movie of all time. There is no middle ground, I think. Either way, they're gonna get my 10 bucks. This is the summer of "Movies that Make Grown Men Feel Like They're 10 Years Old." Between The Simpsons, Transformers, and Spiderman 3, I'm not sure I know what to do with myself.

I'm Super, Thanks For Asking

USA Today's Pop Candy Blog had a link today to this great website where you can create your own superhero. Naturally, I couldn't resist. I'm pretty sure this is what I'd look like if I were a superhero. Or maybe just did some situps and got a dog and some guns. Either way, I'm quite a badass, and I wouldn't suggest messing with me or my dog.

Reverse the Curse!

It became official today that the new "soon-to-be-injured" NFL star gracing the cover of Madden 2008 is none other than the 2006 Offensive Rookie of the Year, your favorite and mine, Mr. Vincent Paul Young, Jr. Congratulations to Vince, and condolences to the Tennessee Titans. After losing Pacman Jones for the entirety of the 2007 season, the Titans must be wondering what they have done to have the future of their franchise put in this kind of jeopardy. I'm sure Clay Travis will have something to say about this in the next day or two, seeing as how he's got almost as big of a man-crush on VY as I do.

For those of you out there who might not be familiar with the "Madden Curse," (Mom, Dad, I'm talking to you), just about every single player who has been on the cover of this game has gone ahead and gotten himself injured in the very next season. Most notably, Daunte Culpepper and Donovan McNabb, and most recently, former league MVP Shaun Alexander. Even Indianapolis Tight End Dallas Clark, who was merely featured in a television commercial for the game, was injured in his very next game against Philadelphia, which, incidentally, was the team he was playing against in the commercial. Weird stuff, I'm telling you. Bad mojo. Mess you up, man.

I have to agree with my buddies over at 40 Acre Sports in that it would have been nice to see someone like T.O. slated for injury instead of VY, though. However, as Burnt Orange Nation pointed out this morning, VY knows a thing or two about breaking streaks. Just check last year's Rose Bowl, which ended USC's 34-game win streak.

That computer generated image looks pretty badass, I have to admit. It kind of looks like Vince is about to start breathing fire and shooting lasers out of his eyes. While running 90 yards for a touchdown. Which, if he did in real life, wouldn't really surprise me too much.

When I was in 7th grade, I bought a Nintendo Entertainment System. The original one, not the super one, or anything remotely advanced. That's the last game system I have ever owned, and until this morning, I hadn't given any thought whatsoever to buying a new one. Unfortunately, this being Tax Day and all, I'm still not. But maybe if I'm a good boy all year, Hannukah Harry might bring me an X-Box instead of the 8 pairs of socks I'm probably already on the list to receive.

April 18 Update: I'm a genius.

Worst. Fortune. Ever.

So I'm having a decent Friday morning, it's sunny out and I had a good cup of coffee, and as the day progresses, I decide I'm going to go pick up some crappy Chinese food from Panda Express for lunch. What the hell, I'll hit the gym this weekend. I get all the way through my meal and find this waiting for me in my fortune cookie:



If you can't read it in that picture, the fortune says, "A photo doesn't capture your charm."

Oh, yeah? Well, fuck you!

Seriously, that is the worst fortune I have ever seen in a fortune cookie. I don't need a "You will unexpectedly come into a great sum of money" every time I crack one open, but I certainly don't need this kind of abuse. I'm just glad I didn't catch a "Next time try a salad" or "The SAT was much easier when you took it than it is now" or some other uplifting mantra for me to dwell on all weekend. I've got something for the folks at Panda Express, and their fortune cookie department:



How's that for captured charm, you bastards?

4-8-15-16-23-42

Mac and Bryant and I went over to The Standard for some drinks after work yesterday. I'd been there a few times - expensive drinks, but a really cool decor. It's on the rooftop of the hotel, and Amanda once saw a couple having sex in one of the waterbed pods they have around the pool. Yes, they have a pool in the rooftop bar. Anyway, I'm not sure this picture came out so well, but we saw Josh Holloway (Sawyer from Lost) there having drinks with some folks. Maybe my last celebrity sighting? Amanda was upset she wasn't there. This makes 3 of the "castaways" I've seen out here, though the first I've been able to get a picture of. I saw Terry O'Quinn (Locke) driving a Lexus on Olympic Blvd, and I saw Naveen Andrews (Sayid) driving his sweet jet black Porsche in Beverly Hills. I'm still on the lookout for Jorge Garcia (Hurley), I figure he'd probably be pretty tough to miss.

LA Proved Too Much for the Man

I'm going back to find (going back to find) a simpler place and time.

Amanda and I are really excited about the fact that we're moving to Atlanta this summer. Our time in California is coming to a close in about 6 weeks. I'll have more on this later, but since it just became official yesterday, I wanted to go ahead and mention it (since nothing feels real to me until I post it on these here internets).

Anyway, I'm sure I'll have some "leaving LA" related posts in the coming weeks, maybe some sort of LA good/bad lists, etc., but since it's now official that we are leaving LA for Atlanta, here's a combo playlist of "Songs About Georgia and Songs About Leaving Los Angeles."

1. Midnight Train to Georgia - Gladys Knight & the Pips
2. Not California - Hem
3. Georgia on My Mind - Ray Charles
4. Say Goodbye to Hollywood - Billy Joel
5. The Devil Went Down to Georgia - Charlie Daniels Band
6. Goodnight Hollywood Boulevard - Ryan Adams
7. The Night the Lights Went Out in Georgia - Vicki Lawrence
8. 405 - Death Cab for Cutie
9. Going Back to Georgia - Nancy Griffith
10. Goodnight LA - Counting Crows
11. Sweet Georgia Brown - Brother Bones & His Shadows
12. California One/Youth & Beauty Brigade - The Decemberists
13. Macon, Georgia County Line - Whiskeytown
14. Pacific Ocean Blues - Dennis Wilson
15. Georgia Peaches - Lynyrd Skynyrd
16. California Dreamin' - The Mamas & The Papas

Good enough for now. Back with more later.

Greg Oden Says, "iPod, shmiPod, Turn That Noise Down!"

Look at this guy. There's no way he's the same age as other college freshmen; that is an assertion I cannot accept. Greg Oden is basically the equivalent of the real-life Thornton Mellon, though in infinitely better shape. Honestly, I think his kids might have grown up with my dad, but I can't be sure.

Anyway, in honor of Mr. Greg Oden and his evident defiance of the normal aging process, I present The Definitive Greg Oden iPod Playlist. Back in his day, iTunes downloads only cost a nickel!

I would like to wish Mr. Oden luck this weekend in the Final Four against Georgetown, and again (hopefully) on Monday in the NCAA Finals. I'd like to see him win a championship in his lifetime, and he sure ain't getting any younger (looking). I hope he plays two incredible games, Ohio State wins the whole thing, and people everywhere are in agreement that he will absolutely be the first pick in the NBA draft. Then maybe Kevin Durant will stay in school another year. We all have dreams.

The Definitive Greg Oden iPod Playlist
1. Neil Young, Old Man
2. The Beatles, When I'm Sixty-four
3. Frank Sinatra, The September of My Years
4. Garth Brooks, I'm Much Too Young (To Feel This Damn Old)
5. Jimi Hendrix, Mannish Boy
6. Wilco, When You Wake Up Feeling Old
7. Jimmy Buffett, A Pirate Looks at Forty
8. Jethro Tull, Too Old to Rock & Roll, Too Young to Die
9. Bon Jovi, Just Older
10. Elton John, Sixty Years On
11. Beastie Boys, Boomin' Granny
12. Of Montreal, I Was Never Young

The Notebook. Yes, That Notebook.

The following was taken directly from an email I sent to a friend earlier today. The pictures were added here.

last night i got to watch a movie i've been really excited to see for a long time (sarcasm alert! sarcasm alert!), the notebook. wow. i'll be honest, it was a sweet story, it was a really sweet story. but not that great of a movie. have you seen this? the music alone is completely hilarious, like they thought to themselves "how can we make this sort of cheesy scene one million times cheesier, and also hilarious in the process?" they succeeded. but, it was a very nice story, though.

seriously, though, if this movie were made 10 years ago, it would have been reese witherspoon and ryan phillipe in the starring roles. instead we get rachel mcadams, who is the poor man's witherspoon (nothing beats a real southerner, especially when playing one in a movie) and ryan gosling, who in this movie bore a striking resemblance to "mac" the piano-playing moon from the old mcdonald's "it's mac tonight" commercials. he must have the longest face in hollywood. i mean physically long, not sad-looking.

and how about the guy who plays the guy who loses rachel mcadams back to her long lost love, the man in the moon? played by none other than what's his name, the same guy who played "guy who lois lane marries in the new superman even though she's really in love with superman", and you might also know him as "guy who famke janssen dates in x-men even though she really seems to like hugh jackman and his muttonchop sideburns much better." talk about typecasting. yikes.

but i think the funniest part was the handlebar mustache on rachel mcadams's dad. i kept waiting for him to put on a pinstriped vest and rejoin his barbershop quartet. (Sadly, I could not find a picture of this mustache.)

but let me reiterate. in all seriousness, the movie did have a very sweet story. and a great handlebar mustache.

Longhorns, Goats, Ponies, and a Man from Iowa

Funny story before I get into the Longhorns' post-season and the Mountain Goats show I saw last night. My buddy Jeremy was in town this weekend from D.C., he works for Senator Tom Harkin of Iowa, planning and arranging fundraising events. I call him Josh Lyman. Anyway, we went out Saturday night for dinner and drinks with some friends, and as he gets into the car he says to me, "How'd you like to be Charlie Young tomorrow?" Turns out he wanted to return the rental car early so he and the Senator wouldn't have to sit and wait for the shuttle, which would buy them a little more time in getting ready to leave LA. So, because I'm such a good friend, and because I've never had a United States Senator in my 626, I accepted his proposition.

Nice guy, that Senator Harkin. Seemed thoroughly confused when I told him I drafted him on my Fantasy Congress team, though he was concerned enough to ask who else was on the team and if there was anything he could do to help. I was excited to tell him that so far, he was the first member of my fantasy congress team who's ever been in my car. So far.

Now, on to more pressing issues. Texas has played some of the best (and worst) basketball I've seen over the past week and a half. It seems they can't put 2 halves of great basketball into the same game. In our last regular season game a week ago, we jumped out to an improbable 12 point lead over #3 Kansas at halftime, only to crap the bed and allow 22 points in the first 4 minutes of the second half and lose by 6. Then against Baylor, in our first Big 12 Tournament game, we were ice cold in the first half (even soon-to-be-player-of-the-year Kevin Durant only had 4 points), but overcame a 20 point deficit in the second half to win it, behind Durant's 24 second half points. I guess the Oklahoma State game the next day was somewhat complete, though it wasn't like we didn't try to throw it away once or twice. Luckily for us, we got to meet Kansas again in the conference finals (this time they were #2), and again, we jumped out to an amazing 21 point lead in the first half (KD started the game with our first 13 points, and he had over 20 in the first half, finishing with 37 for the game), but let them right back into it before halftime, and ultimately we just ran out of gas and lost in OT by 4 points. Durant had 0 points in the final minutes of the game, and 0 in OT. Inexcusable.

Anyway, we drew a 4 seed in the NCAA Tournament, which I think is robbery - there's no way Washington State is better than us from a mediocre Pac-10 conference (not even making the finals), and there's absolutely no way Pittsburgh is better than us coming off of a 30-plus point blowout loss to Georgetown over the weekend. Even Texas A&M got a 3 seed, and we beat them in double OT last week, and they didn't even make the SEMI-finals of the conference tournament, a tournament that I might have mentioned in the last paragraph that we only lost in our 3rd overtime game in our last 5 games. The only silver lining, for me at least, is that if all goes well, we will play USC in the second round, and you know how I love it when my Horns stick it to those Trojans. I'm picking us to win it all. What can I say, I'm a dreamer.

Jeremy (not the one who works for Harkin) and I went to see the Mountain Goats last night at the El Rey. They were awesome. I mean awesome. Neola saw them recently in Portland, and after reading her comments on the show, I was even more excited to see them. We were impressed. I need to get ahold of some of their earlier stuff, b/c they played a lot of it last night and I was a fan of it all. The opening band was this group of 4 girls from Montreal called Pony Up. I think they might have been 14 years old. Nothing on their Wikipedia page to confirm or disconfirm that. Either way, they were young, and sort of a junior version of Sleater-Kinney. They really had the crowd behind them from the get-go, and everybody seemed kind of sad when their set ended. Luckily they all came back out during a Mountain Goats encore to sing backup vocals on a cover of Thin Lizzy's "The Boys Are Back in Town." Aside from the dude standing in front of me who kept backing up slowly, like a glacier, until I was at least 2 feet away from where I started, who kept running his hands through his hair, scaring the crap out of me because I was convinced there was stuff falling all over me (this dude was too close), it was a great show and a great experience.

I didn't write down their setlist (sorry, Andy), mainly because I don't know enough of their songs to know what was being played all the time. If you're interested, I can tell you that "Dance Music," "This Year," "Lion's Teeth," and "Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod" were all played.

Un! Deux! Trois! Dis: Miroir Noir!

Neon Bible, the sophomore effort from Canadian indie-rockers The Arcade Fire, comes out next Tuesday (having absolutely nothing to do with this picture). A friend managed to somehow get an "advance" copy, and gave me a copy of it on Saturday afternoon. I didn't get around to listening to it until Sunday, and I've been freaking out ever since about how good it is. In fact, I actually haven't listened to anything else since yesterday morning. I have played it over and over, probably at least 15 or 20 times, and I'm showing no signs of any desire to listen to anything else. Not yet, at least. I don't know if I've been this taken with an album since Elliott Smith's posthumous release, From a Basement on a Hill, back in 2004. It should come as no surprise that Neon Bible puts forth almost as bleak an outlook, so maybe that's why I'm making that connection. I can't explain it, but I just LOVE depressing music. It makes me so happy.

Neon Bible starts off with my new favorite song (for the time being), "Black Mirror," but the true highlight of the album is the fourth track, "Intervention," which echoes the sounds of "We Shall Overcome," only with the exact opposite message. Instead of "We shall overcome someday," we're told "Every spark of friendship and love will die without a home." Ouch.

Throughout the album, lyrics like "Nothing lasts forever that's the way it's got to be," "Now who here among us still believes in choice, not I," "World War Three, when are you coming for me?" and "I don't want to work in a building downtown, no I don't want to see when the planes hit the ground," drive home the theme of hopelessness and discouragement, which, ironically, is much darker than their last album, Funeral.

Funeral was great, and I was excited for their Neon Bible release, but I was also kind of dreading it, because much-anticipated second albums usually fall flat. This one is an exception, like the Godfather Part 2 living up to, and, in many people's minds, exceeding its predecessor. I know it's early to say this, before we're even out of February, but Neon Bible is the current frontrunner for my favorite album of the year, though with expected releases from Bright Eyes, Interpol, Radiohead, and Wilco, it's going to be a fun race for me to judge.

Jackson Browne and Willie Nelson ... and a Surprise Celeb Encounter

So, we're on our way up to Universal for the concert last night, and I pull into the parking garage and fork over my $10, but I'm in one of the right-side lanes, and the entrance to the garage is on the left side, which means I have to quickly cross over about 3 lanes. As I do this, I accidentally cut off a guy driving a silver Prius. Amanda freaks out. "Ben, look, look, look, look who it is!!" I didn't see the guy driving the car, but evidently it was Adrian Grenier, better known as Vinnie Chase on Entourage. At the time, though, the only thing on my mind was fulfilling my intense need to pee, so we parked and immediately found a restroom.

As we're standing in line at Will Call to get our tickets, Amanda sees him again. Aquaman ends up standing two people behind us in the Will Call line. I took a breath, calmly turned around and said, "Hey, man, I think I cut you off in the parking lot. So, sorry about that." He goes, "That was you?" I said, "Yeah, it was me. Sorry." Then he said, "Aw, man! You're lucky this is LA." I'm still not sure what that meant. I was just glad I resisted the urge to say any of the following, potentially embarassing things:

"Let's hug it out, bitch."
"I am Queens Boulevard."
"Where's Turtle?"
"I thought you were great in 'The Devil Wears Prada'." (This would have been highly sarcastic.)

Anyway, after our brush with the B-list actor who plays an A-list actor, we headed inside, and not a moment too soon! We got to our seats just after the opening act, Native American poet John Trudell, began his, um, performance. It was mainly spoken word stuff, but he had a band who played over his poetry. It was a little weird, and kind of a downer. One of his songs was about killing children, I think. Or, probably, it was about the killing of children around the world, in war torn areas. At one point he mentioned Chechnya. Amanda wanted to make sure I wrote in my geeky little notebook that he used Chechnya in a song. We weren't huge fans.

We only had about a 15 minute or so wait until Jackson Browne took the stage. I was pretty damn excited. My only criticism is that I wish he had played for longer. Amanda wishes he would have played something she knew. I wish that, too, though I knew about half of what he played. But still, to be in the audience for a performance of someone like Jackson Browne, I was just happy to be there. And what he played sounded great.

Jackson Browne:
A Child in These Hills
Barricades of Heaven
Fountain of Sorrow
The Naked Ride Home
That Girl Could Sing
For a Dancer
Lives in the Balance
I Am a Patriot

After Jackson Browne, we had about 30 minutes before Willie came on. Amanda decided to take a nap. A woman after my own heart. The concert was actually a benefit for ovarian cancer research and awareness, which means that 100% of the net proceeds went to support the Cedars-Sinai Women's Cancer Research Institute at the Samuel Oschin Comprehensive Cancer Institute. That's a mouthful. (That's what she said. Sorry, had to.) That also meant that we got to watch a 15 minute infomercial about the Institute before Willie came on. Amanda slept through it. She didn't miss much. I sort of felt like I was going to be asked to buy a time-share or something. The best quote, from the president of the Institute, was "Tonight we are here to celebrate women! All women! And we have three great men here with us!" Um, I'm all for a Jackson Browne/Willie Nelson concert, but are you telling me they couldn't have put together, like, Emmylou Harris, Norah Jones, and Jewel, or something like that? Come on, people, a little planning!!

Anyway, Willie was awesome. It's always great to see a true legend, one of the last true country music legends still alive. I had the opportunity to see him once before, and I also had the opportunity to see James Brown a few times, and Ray Charles once. They were all at the tail end of their incredible careers, and they didn't really pack the same punch that they once did, but that doesn't really diminish the experience. That's how I feel about Willie now. He's not really what he used to be. He doesn't sing much, instead talking his way through most of the songs. He does still play a hell of a guitar though. From an observational standpoint, I was much more impressed with his guitar playing than with his singing. But he's Willie. And I'm a fan, not just an observer. And it was kick-ass. He played for what seemed like an hour, but it had to be more than that because he somehow managed to squeeze out 20 songs. I don't know if there's anything I was hoping to hear that didn't get played. When he opened with "Whiskey River," a huge (like, car-dealership huge) Texas flag unrolled behind him. I also liked that when he played "Good-Hearted Woman," he opened it with, "Let's sing one for Waylon."

Willie Nelson:
Whiskey River
Still Is Still Moving to Me
Ain't It Funny How Time Slips Away
Crazy
Nightlife
Workin Man's Blues (played and sung by guitarist Billy Payne)
Help Me Make It Through the Night
Me and Paul
Good-Hearted Woman
Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain
Blue Skies
Georgia on My Mind
All of Me
Memory of Love's Refrain
Mamas Don't Let Your Babies Grow Up to Be Cowboys
Angel Flying Too Close to the Ground
On the Road Again
Always on My Mind
Superman (new song)
You Don't Think I'm Funny Anymore (new song)

Lone Star Belt Buckles and Old Faded Levis

I had a hard time deciding between the post title I used, and its alternative, "I'm Gonna Rent Myself a House in the Shade of the Freeway." I guess if that's the hardest thing I have to do all day then I'm ok.

For my Valentine's Day present, Amanda got us tickets to see Willie Nelson and Jackson Browne (indirect namesake of the infamous "Jackson Brownes", our Pub Quiz team from back in Jackson). They're playing tonight at the Gibson Amphitheater at Universal, which is where we saw the revamped version of INXS last January. It's a great venue, there's really not a bad seat in the house. Last time we were there, we sat in the highest section, maybe 10 rows from the top, I think, and they were still great seats. This time, Amanda splurged on the good seats, though, and I couldn't be more excited. And all I got her was a lousy bracelet from Tiffany's. I definitely got the better gift.

I saw Willie once before, at Memphis in May back in 2001, along with Dave Matthews, String Cheese, and the Black Crowes. It was a pretty good day. It was also the culmination of a solid week and a half of partying and travelling over what I think was a four-state area (I know we saw Dave Matthews in Birmingham, and I think we were in New Orleans as well at some point) with my buddy Hinkle, after we finished our classes but before law school graduation. We were in Memphis for Garrett's bachelor party, and I was so tired (and drunk) from our 10 day tour, that, well, that's the night the "C-Note" nickname took hold. If you know the story, you know the story. If not, I ain't retelling it. This is a family joint.

Anyway, Willie was great, and I'm so excited to see him again, but I think I'm more excited to see Jackson Browne. The guy is just a rock legend. I mean, the man gave Bruce Springsteen his first major gig, taking him and the E Street band on tour as his opening act back in the day. If that's not pure genius, I don't know what is. He epitomizes the California rock sound, post-Beach Boys surfer music, pre-Red Hot Chili Peppers funk-rock. In fact, I think I just came up with a definitive timeframe for classic rock.

I'm sure I'll be back tomorrow to post the set lists. I have my trusty little geeky notebook to write it all down, as well as the camera to hopefully snap some good pics.

Books They All Know They're Not Worth Reading

Thoughts while wondering who I need to sleep with at VH1 to get back into that damn pop culture competition...

Probably the most exciting news I got all day is that Wilco has released the tracklist for their upcoming album "Sky Blue Sky." It comes out on May 15, which seems to be timed perfectly with our cross-country drive. Whoever ends up riding in the car with me is going to be pretty damn sick of that album by the time we hit New Mexico, I think.

The most exciting news I got two days ago is that Amanda got us tickets to see Willie Nelson and the rock legend that is Jackson Browne next Thursday. I saw Willie do a short set at Memphis in May back in 2001, but damn, Jackson Browne? I didn't know he was even on tour, but I don't know if I could be more excited to see a concert of anybody that I haven't yet seen other than him. Maybe the Rolling Stones. But he's definitely up there, big time.

Ghost Rider opens today. I'd say that looks like it has "Worst Movie of 2007" locked up, but I guess you never know, what with Norbit and the soon-to-be-released Wild Hogs. I've still got my money on Ghost Rider, though. Come on. He's a normal motorcycle rider by day and turns into a firey-headed crime fighter at night? I know I've made this joke before (maybe not here though), but wouldn't a better curse have been if he were a normal motorcycle rider by day and had to turn into Nicholas Cage at night?

I can understand why the ratings for this week's Lost were at an all-time low for the show, but all that means is that so many more people missed what was probably one of the best 3 episodes in the show's run to date. Hopefully it'll get people talking and their numbers will come up a bit next week.

I feel like I'm turning into Peter King here. Might be time to get up out of here.

WSOPC: Day Two

We didn't make it. Got the call at 7:30. Interestingly enough, they told us they would be making calls between 7:30 and 10:00, which makes me think we were probably the first on their list of rejects.

Anyway, at least we had a fun weekend in Austin.

WSOPC: Day One

Well, day one started off pretty well. Micah and I slept until about 11, and then Jenn drove us to meet up with Leah. First thing on our agenda was lunch at Texadelphia. Mmmmm, good. Leah and I split a cheesesteak and a turkey sandwich, which even after all these years since I've been there, is stil the best thing on the menu. After that we hit the Co-op for 30 minutes of drooling over all of the burnt orange. I was able to excercise a modicum of self-restraint, buying only a shirt for Amanda and a pair of gym shorts for myself. I could easily spend my paycheck in there.

Sarah (who Leah is staying with) got out of school at 3:00, so we picked her up and she drove us downtown for some coffee before our 5:00 appointment. Which was awesome. I can't go into too many specifics, but this is basically what happened: We (along with about 35 other teams) filed into a room and took a 50 question test, which after 15 minutes the VH1 people took our answers into another room and graded them. They came back after about 10 minutes and announced that of the 36 teams, only three teams passed the test. At that point we kind of shrugged and thought "Well, at least we tried, now at least we've got a fun weekend in Austin ahead of us." They called out the names of the first two teams that passed the test.

Then they called ours. We were so excited! Leah screamed so loud and we jumped up and hi-fived and headed out into the lobby with the other two teams to wait for our interviews. They took us first for the interviews, which is good because that was before the excitement and shock really set in. We think our interviews went really well, but I probably can't get into specifics on that either. They're going to call us tonight to let us know whether or not we get to come back in tomorrow for the competition.

We went out for a celebratory cocktail (or two or ten), and what better way to do that than Mexican Martinis at Trudy's? Then to dinner at Guero's (awesome Tex-Mex - first time eating there). Adam picked me up there and we went to The Parlor to see his girlfriend's band play. I was expecting something Pixies-influenced, for some reason. They were more like The Clash mixed with Poison. Enjoyable, though. Very enjoyable.

Today we're getting ready to head over to campus for lunch, then to the Horns game. We're playing Iowa State. I'm pretty freaking excited to see Kevin Durant play. The kid can ball, no doubt about it.

I'll try to check in later on and report back about the Phone Call tonight. Also, after I get back to LA, I'm going to try to get some pictures posted.

WSOPC: Prelude

It's Thursday night, and I just landed in Austin. I'm here with Leah and Micah Hart, and we're trying out for VH1's World Series of Pop Culture. For those of you who have no idea what that is, the WSOPC is a pop-culture trivia game show, on the aforementioned VH1. The first "season" aired last summer, and I was not only floored by how easy the questions were, but that I didn't have the foresight to try out, even though I knew about the tryouts well in advance and they held tryouts in Los Angeles.

This year, we didn't make that mistake. We decided back in December that we were going to form a team (teams are made up of three people) and see what we could do. At worst, we have a fun time together. At best, we win this competition (and $250,000). Our team name is "Ski Mississippi."

I was hoping they would come to LA the weekend of the LA tryouts, but Micah couldn't get out of Atlanta that weekend, so we decided to come to Austin. We had to submit an online application and fill out a short questionnaire, and we were in. Our appointment is at 5:00 tomorrow afternoon at a hotel in downtown Austin. We will each take a timed, written pop-culture test, and if we pass, we'll move immediately into interviews with their casting people. After testing/interviewing teams (I have NO idea how many teams are here) all day Friday and Saturday, they will call back eight teams on Saturday night to come back on Sunday and compete in the regional qualifier. The winner automatically advances to the finals, to be taped in New York in March.

I've been training pretty hard for the past few weeks, and by "training" I mean watching a lot of TV, reading a lot, and listening to a lot of music. So, basically, I've been doing next to nothing out of the ordinary for the past few weeks. I have been reading the game cards from Scene It and the Saturday Night Live edition of Trivial Pursuit, though, so I guess that counts. Anyway, we're here and we think we have a pretty good shot, because not too many people know as much worthless crap as we do.

I'll try to check in and post a few times over the course of the weekend, while the experience is fresh. Wish us luck.

Bob Dylan Probably Also Wrote the Bible

This is just too damn funny not to post.

The Biggest Douchebag Ever

Slightly edging out Karl Rove and the guy who lives next door to me (I swear if you bang on the wall again, I'm going to put you through it - I do NOT slam the door!!), Barry Bonds has done more in recent years to cement his legacy as a douchebag than anyone I can think of. I went to a San Francisco Giants game at Dodger Stadium last summer for the sole purpose of booing him as loudly as I could, and hoping to start up a "Barry Sucks!" chant (and, b/c I was offered a free ticket), but he didn't play. Though that is not the reason I consider him a douchebag.

Barry Bonds might have gone down in history as one of the greatest hitters ever to play the game. He might have been in the top 10 in home runs hit, and he might have been remembered as an 8-time Gold Glove winner, 7-time MVP, and 13-time All-Star. A clearer path to Cooperstown could not be imagined. But none of that was good enough, so he decided the physical size of his head should more closely resemble the size of his ego (See photo at right - that thing's got it's own gravitational pull. HEED! PAPER, NOW!!).

Instead, he will be remembered as a douchebag. A stain on the National Pasttime. A liar, a cheater, and a miserable, miserable human being. If I were Bud Selig (who's a decent douchebag in his own right), I would see to it that Barry Bonds were banned from Major League Baseball, and I would remove his statistics since the 1998 season (when steroid dealer Greg Anderson became his trainer) from all record books.

Other than all of those other reasons I think Bonds is a stain, a liar, a cheater, and a miserable human being - and a douchebag - I just added another one to the list. HE'S A DOUCHEBAG. Ok, to be fair, that's not really a reason, but I have new support for my opinion. According to the Associated Press, Bonds failed a test for amphetamines in 2006, and when he learned of the test results, he blamed it on something he took from teammate Mark Sweeney's locker.

HE BLAMED HIS POSITIVE TEST FOR AMPHETAMINES ON SOMETHING HE TOOK FROM A TEAMMATE'S LOCKER.

Is there a bigger douchebag thing to do? Maybe if he then went over to Sweeney's house and took a dump in the middle of his living room, but short of that, I'm not sure there is. The thing that jumps right out at me, and I can't believe I haven't seen this angle in any of the articles I've read on the subject today, is this: If he took it from Mark Sweeney's locker, he is implying one of two things. Either he asked Mark Sweeney for amphetamines (which proves his intent to take amphetamines), or he stole something from his teammate. Now, let's assume he didn't ask Mark Sweeney for amphetamines. We're left with Barry Bonds: Thief. He either stole the drugs from Sweeney's locker thinking they were something completely legal and legitimate (in which case - WHY STEAL THEM??), or he stole them knowing they were illegal and not legitimate (in which case - YOU'RE A DOUCHEBAG!!).

I don't understand why the San Fransisco Giants and Major League Baseball, and fans of both institutions, are willing to put up with this kind of behavior and utter contempt for the high regard most of us still have for the game of baseball. If Keyshawn Johnson and Terrell Owens can get sent home for the remainder of a football season for merely being hard to deal with, yet breaking no laws or league rules, then Barry needs to go. If for no other reason than we do not need douchebags like him continuing to ruin baseball.

I've just used the word douchebag 10 times (11, if you count this sentence), and I don't feel that I've even come close to expressing how much I hate that Barry Bonds is still a part of baseball and society in general.

Jan. 12 Update - Bonds now claims he did not take anything from Mark Sweeney's locker. This is just another reason he's a douchebag - ruining a perfectly good blog post about what a douchebag he is, only one day after it is written.

Sun, Sun, Sun

The sun is shining a little brighter today. Amanda got back yesterday after three and a half weeks in Israel, and it was not a moment too soon. I mean that not in the "I missed her like hell" sense (which I did), but more in the "I was approaching the point of forgetting to put on socks in the morning" sense. Something happens when she goes away for more than a day or two, where the part of me that is marginally responsible decides to close up shop and go off the grid for awhile.

Anyway, in honor of her return, here are some sun songs to go listen to.

Good Day, Sunshine - The Beatles
Sun, Sun, Sun - The Elected
Sun Comes Up, It's Tuesday Morning - Cowboy Junkies
Sunshine of Your Love - Cream
House of the Rising Sun - The Animals
Staring at the Sun - U2
Sun Is Shining - Bob Marley
Walking on Sunshine - Katrina and the Waves (not Martika, as some people think)

Welcome home, Sunshine.