May 09, 2008
SEASONS CHANGE
A couple weeks ago, I got an e-mail from a friend at work.
Hi there-A friend of mine has 2 very good seats to the Bon Jovi with Daughtry show at the forum Sunday night, $140 each.
Very thoughtful. But I'm not really the Bon Jovi type. Especially, not to the tune of $140. The closest I got to being a fan was faking interest in "Livin' on a Prayer" at a club one time so I could get a girl to like me. It didn't work. My dignity never recovered.
One of my favorite lines ever, in fact, is a Bon Jovi-related joke by Denis Leary:
We live in a country, where John Lennon takes six bullets in the chest, Yoko Ono was standing right next to him and not one f##king bullet! Explain that to me! Explain that to me, God! Explain it to me, God! Now we've got 25 more years of 'I-yi-yi-yi-yi-yi'. Yeah, I'm real f##king happy now, God. I'm wearing a huge happy hat.I mean, how is it that Stevie Ray Vaughan is dead ... and we can't get Jon Bon Jovi into a helicopter? Come on, folks. 'Get on that helicopter John. Shut the f##k up and get on that helicopter! There's a hair dresser in there.'"
So, to recap: Jeff, Jovi, not a big fan. I wasn't about to buy concert tickets so Jon and Richie could buy more hair product.
Then I noticed the group my friend included me with on the e-mail. They're not exactly what I would call the most cutting-edge cluster on the planet. Nice people, sure, but several seem the type who are looking forward to getting the AARP magazine in the mail when they turn 50.
I shared this tidbit with Rommie:
I don't know whether to be honored that she thought of me, or insulted that I am in this group of people for this type of music.
His reply:
Easy mistake to make with your Jersey accent and all.Dude, you just got lumped in with some of the biggest squares in the company.
So, it was a little disconcerting when I got this e-mail today:
Expose'. On CBS. DVR.
Quite the combination.
Clearly, God is sending me a message. It's no burning bush or stone tablet, but there is a message: You are old. You had no musical taste for the better part of a decade. There is no appropriate pennance. This is your punishment.
In case you were wondering:
About Exposé: Exposé, the Arista Records freestyle pop-dance trio, ruled the '80s and '90s and was the Destiny's Child of the time. They generated highly combustible dance grooves and gut-wrenching ballads with vocal powerhouses Jeanette Jurado, Ann Curless and Gioia Bruno. Exposé, formed by record producer and songwriter Lewis A. Martineé, caught fire with their first album, released in 1986, titled Exposure. The album reeled off a string of major hits, including Billboard Top-Ten's 'Come Go With Me,' 'Point of No Return,' and 'Let Me Be the One' as well as the number one mega-hit ballad 'Seasons Change.' The album itself achieved multi-platinum status.
Okay, I don't remember anything past this point. I'm sure they had a lovely career, but the combination of White Russians and McDLT's that choked my body during the 1980s conspire to fog my brain.
I have no great love for the '80s. It can all go pretty much straight to hell as far as I'm concerned. The fact that that the decade is romanticized astounds me.
Is there anyone I'd pay to see from that era? Sure, but they'd have to be true iconoclasts, artists who truly left their mark.
Like these guys:
May 07, 2008
AND NOW FOR TODAY'S MOMENT IN SURREALITY
I am now a widget.
For the record, I hate that term. Sounds like a mixture of a wigger and a midget.
May 06, 2008
I WANT TO FATHER ZACH GALIFIANAKIS' CHILD STEP-CHILD
Perhaps Messr. Galifianakis knows Capt. Geech and the Shrimp Shack Shooters?
May 05, 2008
MAKES ME WANT TO HOLA AND THROW UP BOTH MY HANDS
It's Cinco de Mayo. When you own a blog on which much has been made about the wearing of oversized Mexican headgear, that day means more than, say, Tres de Mayo or even Ocho de Mayo.
This blog has been in the forefront of celebrating that beautiful piece of cabesa engineering, be it in the desert sands of Iraq or the halls of public influence.
So, on behalf of Side Salad's staff, allow me to wish you a very heartfelt and sincere Happy Made-Up Mexican Holiday So That Anglos Can Have An Excuse To Drink Day.
And now, not unlike a president throwing out the ceremonial first pitch while wearing a Kevlar vest that makes him look tubby from the waist up but which is cleverly disguised by a warm-up jacket, I hereby throw out this gratuitous photo of one of my bosses wearing a sombrero for the first time.
This is Vidisha. She likes to climb trees.
April 28, 2008
I'M HOLDING OUT FOR A (HOT MESS OF A) HERO
I may be way off on this, but I don't remember Wonder Woman looking like Sheryl Lee Ralph.
That may be just be me being bitter and clinging to Lynda Carter.
An appreciative nod to Katherine.
April 24, 2008
MOMMY, MAKE IT STOP
Three words I never want to think about again:
Mascot camel toe.
Cross-posted at the all-new Salad Spinner Tumbleblog.
April 20, 2008
YOU HAVE THE RIGHT TO REMAIN DELICIOUS
More photos from the judging room at the National Pie Championships can be found here.
The Great American Pie Festival continues today in Celebration.
April 19, 2008
April 18, 2008
ADVENTURES IN TRAFFIC:
NANNY STATE EDITION
When will the madness end? When will this great nation return to the days when freedom of expression was respected and venerated, when men had the unfettered luxury of dangling fake testicles from the trailer hitch of their vehicle without fear of scorn and repercussion?
I don't believe I want to live in a country where Truck Nutz and Biker Balz are not allowed for public consumption. Especially the illuminated ones, because that, my fellow countrymen, comes down to a public safety issue.
Plus, it would really scale back my Adventures in Traffic photo opportunities.
PREVIOUS ADVENTURES IN TRAFFIC:
I'd Like Another Helping, Please. »
April 17, 2008
AND IF YOU ASK ME HOW I'M FEELING
DON'T TELL ME YOU'RE TOO BLIND TO SEE
My thanks to everyone who has called and e-mailed to check on my employment status as a result of the news this week that the Tampa Tribune is offering buyouts to half of its employees.
It's been quite a week. It's a fairly surreal experience to look around at your workplace and wonder which half of the chairs will be filled in two month's time. It's also more than a little bizarre to read comments about your own employment situation on the Web site you work for.
Several times this week, I've had a moment like the one in "Wall Street" where Hal Holbrook as the character Lou Mannheim drapes an arm around Charlie Sheen's yuppie stock trading character Bud Fox and walks him down the hall right before the SEC arrests the young man. Holbrook imparts this wisdom: "Man looks in the abyss, there's nothing staring back at him. At that moment, man finds his character. And that is what keeps him out of the abyss."
I know that feeling all too well.
I've done some soul searching, considered my options and thought long and hard about what to do next.
With that as context, I have a major announcement to make.
Explanation: RickRoll'D
BATTER UP
Greetings to everyone who is tripping into the Salad bowl from our newest, bestest buddy, David Chalk over at the Tampa Bay Devil Rays page at Bugs and Cranks.
David took a liking to some photos of a mini-brawl in left field that I took during the Rays' opening home game against the Seattle Mariners.
I would comment more, but I think I'll follow the follow the advice of Billy Joel to, "Leave a tender moment alone."
Besides, Dan Ruth put it so perfectly:
There is something magical, even in a FEMA trailer with a gland problem like Tropicana Field, when you walk up the stairs into the stands and there, suddenly spread out before you, is the field in all its glorious (albeit artificial) greenery.It's a moment of promise. A game is to be played. There will be - fun.
Of course, there would have been an awful lot more fun if only there hadn't been so many other people who insisted on attending the same game.
Nothing spoils a nice time more than having to share it with complete strangers, like the vile, hideous, loathsome children around us.
First, there was the extra from "Deliverance" who appeared to be bent on setting the world record for how many times we had to stand up to let him leave his seat. Unfortunately, he kept coming back.
Then there was the dreadful youth of about 11 or so who decided to start violently punching his brother directly across the aisle from me.
One of my many charming talents in life is the ability to scare the absolute bejabbers out of children. And although it's been awhile since we had the pitter-patter of little feet around the manse, it's nice to know I hadn't lost my touch.
"Excuse me," I seethed to the Inmate-In-Waiting, as he was busily pummeling away. "Is my trying to watch this baseball game interfering with your beating up your brother?" The thug-lite looked stunned, as if not even a parent had ever spoken to him like that before.
"Knock it off, shut up, sit down and grow up," I glared at the lad like a drill instructor. And he did - quiet as a church mouse for the rest of the game. I should rent myself out to terrify horrible tots.
You can see more photos from the evening in my Flickr gallery Including the beers-bigger-than-an-average-man's-skull they were pouring.
GOOD HEAPIN' SERVINGS AND THEIR PRICES ARE FAIR
My University of Florida college friend Jacqueline at the always impressive and influencial JD Land shares this video clip from YouTube. It's a commercial for Skeeter's Big Biscuits, our favorite late-night eating establishment in Gainesville during the 1980s.
It's from, as she put it, "1986 no less!"
When I think of the times that I deployed their hubcap-size pancakes in the Asher Special as an absorbant boom for my liver, it brings goose flesh to my skin. (You young'uns may now ask your parents, "Mommy, Daddy, what's a hubcap?")
As one commenter mentioned on the RoadFood.com message boards:
Here in Gainesville i miss Skeeters. it boasted "biscuts as big as your head" it was downtown, and open all night. so we would lurch in there feet hurting ears ringing after a night of dancing at 80's old wave night at the University club and eat a huge breafast. Its now a nasty nasty little club.
Ah, the run-on sentences, poor punctuation, capitalization and tense disagreement. Must be a Gator grad. Or a former Alligator editor.
I keeeed. I keeeed. I am a keeeder.
JD's other comment:
"Waaah, I want an Asher!!!!!!!!!"
I've been trying to tap into my brain to remember what this commercial's production values remind me of.
Ah, now I've got it:
Kristin Wiig's Hot Air Balloon Commercial from SNL from Chris Harris on Vimeo.
April 16, 2008
NEXT WEEK, THE FOOD STYLINGS OF EMO PHILLIPS
I'm very proud of having written this story about one of my comedy heroes. Something about it appeals to the 12-year-old in me.
Which, if you know me, is only barely below the epidermis.
April 12, 2008
April 04, 2008
April 02, 2008
PRETTY MUCH THE SCARIEST F-ING THING YOU CAN SEE WHILE DRIVING THROUGH BARTOW, FLORIDA (AND THERE ARE PLENTY OF SCARY F-ING THINGS IN BARTOW, FLORIDA)
Experts say eye contact facilitates more effective communication.
Experts are correct.
They're so cute when they catch the aroma of fatty human tissue.
Dropped some spittle on the window there, Cujo.
Okay. The window moved. Down.
Not funny.
Mommy, I just made boom in my pants. I sorry.
