Sales Calls Suck

"Hey Mr.____________, it's __________ from (insert company name here). How are you today? Gosh, the last time we talked was (insert years/months) ago. So, how do you like your (insert season here)? Hot or cold, huh? Just no in between was there. Boy, you know I though that weather was really (insert personal opinion here). Just never enough time to do what you want, you know? Anyway, I was just checking to see if there might be any jobs that we can support you on?"

Sincerely,

Every sales call you've ever received from a potential vendor

So Long Great One...and I Don't Mean Wayne

If you’re a long-time hockey fan like I am, the past 18-months have felt like you were given a B.C. two-hander in the chops from Bob Probert.

First, you had the nearly-career-ending injury to Steve Yzerman, the 20-year captain of the Detroit Red Wings. The sight of Yzerman flailing his arms in the air and writhing on the ice like a goldfish out water was hardly the way anyone envisioned – much less wanted too – see The Captain’s career come to an end. Not much later, hockey snobs cringed as a team from south of the Mason Dixon line hoisted Lord Stanley’s Cup. Thankfully, the Cup has been returned to Canada sans any NASCAR or Calvin-urinating-on-a-Ford/Chevy-logo stickers.

Then, the coupe de resistance – the strike. If the fans had the same initiative as the children in the film KidCo, well, let’s just say we’d all have a big pile of manure to haul around for quite some time.

We can argue all we want whether the strike was worth it and whether or not the game will be better, but there’s no question the personnel losses stemming from the strike will give the game a whole new look.

A sad side effect of the 15 months off has been the retirement of many of the stars of the 80s and 90s who made the game so exciting.

The list goes on. Damphousse, MacInnis, Stevens, and today…the other great one, Mark Messier.

I can still fervently recall the rivalry that developed between the Wings and Oilers in the mid-to-late 80s. Detroit had finally become respectable again under the guidance of Steve Yzerman and the fabulous Frenchman, Juacques Demers. But just like the seasons changing, every year you could count on the Wings losing to the Oilers during the regular season and the playoffs.

The Oilers were one of the most prolific teams of all time with numerous hall of famers, including the greatest scorer of all time in Wayne Gretzky. Fittingly, he was called The Great One. People loved to watch Gretzky, but the player I always feared and loved was the guy who could do it all. The hockey-player’s player, Mark Messier.

He could block a shot, get up, deck you at center ice, rush to the other end and score. And even more importantly, he could win. For those of us too young to remember the days of Gordie Howe, Messier was the closest thing we could have had. Like Howe, Messier could beat you more ways than any other player on the ice.

The Oilers were the dynasty of the mid-80s in the NHL, taking home 4 Stanley Cups, and they probably would have had five if they hadn’t scored on themselves in a key game vs. the Calgary Flames in 1986. There was #99, Gretzky, the leading scorer riding shotgun. In the back seat you had Grant Fuhr, Kevin Lowe, Glenn Anderson, Jari Kurri and Paul Coffey. But the guy who was really behind the wheel, driving that team and leading them in the locker room was none other than Messier.

On August 8, 1988, a chunk of Canada died when The Great One was dealt to the Los Angeles Kings by owner Peter Pocklington. The move greatly enhanced Wayne’s persona in the U.S., helped bring hockey into the mainstream and popularize the sport on the west coast (for a brief time). While Wayne was going on to become close friends with convicted felons (Bruce McNall) and hanging out with the sunset strip crowd of California, Messier got to work on doing what he did best – winning championships.

In the year 2 A.W. (After Wayne), Messier lead the Gretzky-less and Fuhr-less Oilers to the Stanley Cup, winning the Hart Trophy (MVP) in the process, thus stepping up out of Wayne’s shadow for good and proving to the world what a leader he really is.

Two years later, after his run in Edmonton was at a close, he headed to the Bronx and joined the NY Rangers, declaring to the team and its fans that he’d deliver to them their first Stanley Cup in over 50 years. And he kept his word. Behind Messier and his hat-trick against New Jersey in a must win game 6 of the conference finals, the Rangers went on to win games 7 against the Devils, and then won a heart-pounding game 7 against Vancouver in the finals, giving N.Y.C. the cup, enshrining Messier’s place in New Yorkers’ hearts forever.

For the first time, it was Messier who deservedly lapped up the spotlight in the bright lights and big city of New York while his former partner in L.A. had a nice tan, a great bank account, and zero post-Oiler cups to his name.

For the next 9 years, Messier continued to play on with his rough and tumble style. Knocking you down when he had too, scoring when he needed too. And sure he never won any more Stanley Cups, but he retires today the second leading scorer in league history, behind only Wayne Gretzky.

I find that only fitting. As a person who respected and admired what Wayne was able to do from an offensive standpoint, I never viewed him as the be-all, end-all hockey player. To me, a true hockey star has to be willing to sacrifice himself for his team. He has to be able to have offensive ability, but at the same time, not be afraid to knock a guy on his butt when it has to be done. He has to have a mean streak. In short, he must be multi-dimensional. Gretzky was never these things. Like Howe, Messier was all of that and more.

Wayne got most of the glory, especially after his move to la-la land. And in the end, he’s the one remembered as The Great One. But if the choice were up to me, I’d rather have had the guy who was willing to do it all. Number 11.

Fly-by-night hockey fans always have, and always will say Gretzky is the greatest. After all, we’ve all been told by the media for the last 20 years that Gretzky is the greatest ever and to argue with that is ludicrous. Even ESPN.com put out a survey yesterday asking where Messier ranks on all time players and the highest number you can choose for him is #2, as if picking him #1 would be some form of hockey blasphemy.

I’ll always have a special place in my heart for #11 and in my book, he’s better than Gretzky and right behind Gordie Howe. He was the consummate hockey player for true hockey fans.

And if for some reason you can’t tell the difference between Messier and Gretzky, look for the guy who’s right arm hangs a little lower…because it has two more Stanley Cup rings weighing it down.

What....do you want on your tombstone?

A clever marketing tagline for a frozen pizza...or a question now being asked to the families whose son/daughter died in Iraq and Afghanistan? For the record, if anyone in my fantasy football league dies, I'll give their spouses the option of picking any of our annual slogans on their tombstone...at no cost!!!

What a f-ing disgrace. Worst. Admistration. Ever.

Troops' Gravestones Have Pentagon Slogans
ARLINGTON, Va. - Unlike earlier wars, nearly all Arlington National Cemetery gravestones for troops killed in Iraq or Afghanistan are inscribed with the slogan-like operation names the Pentagon selected to promote public support for the conflicts.

Families of fallen soldiers and Marines are being told they have the option to have the government-furnished headstones engraved with "Operation Enduring Freedom" or "Operation Iraqi Freedom" at no extra charge, whether they are buried in Arlington or elsewhere. A mock-up shown to many families includes the operation names.

The vast majority of military gravestones from other eras are inscribed with just the basic, required information: name, rank, military branch, date of death and, if applicable, the war and foreign country in which the person served.

Families are supposed to have final approval over what goes on the tombstones. That hasn't always happened. Nadia and Robert McCaffrey, whose son Patrick was killed in Iraq in June 2004, said "Operation Iraqi Freedom" ended up on his government-supplied headstone in Oceanside, Calif., without family approval.

"I was a little taken aback," Robert McCaffrey said, describing his reaction when he first saw the operation name on Patrick's tombstone. "They certainly didn't ask my wife; they didn't ask me." He said Patrick's widow told him she had not been asked either. "In one way, I feel it's taking advantage to a small degree," McCaffrey said. "Patrick did not want to be there, that is a definite fact."

The owner of the company that has been making gravestones for Arlington and other national cemeteries for nearly two decades is uncomfortable, too. "It just seems a little brazen that that's put on stones," said Jeff Martell, owner of Granite Industries of Vermont. "It seems like it might be connected to politics."

The 40-Year-Old Virgin - GO SEE THIS FILM

Funniest movie I've seen in the theaters since...Gosh, probably the first Austin Powers. Granted, Mike Myers has had two sequels since, the first one was just a masterpiece.

Anyway, anyone likes comedy, and Steve Carrell, you must see this film. Just fantastic. I've seen Wedding Crashers and this flick blows it away. The last hour of Wedding Crashers was a chick flick (sans cameo appearance that saved the flick). This film is five-times funnier.

Don't know who Steve Carrell is? Go find out. Don't use that as a crutch to not see this film.

This message paid for by Steve Carrell is the Funniest Man Alive foundation, headquartered in Milwaukee, WI.

The Colors of the Chameleon Knows as Beck

by Gene

Is Beck:
a) the cunning nu-rapper from Loser?
b)the countrified, twangy country boy of Jackass?
c)the pina-colada sippin songster of Tropicalia?
d)the party animal of Sexx Laws?
e)the brokenhearted pessimist of Lost Cause?
f)the loud, beat-backed boy behind E-Pro?

The beauty of this question lies in the answer:

Beck is all of the above, yet he’s none of the above at the same time.

Beck is one of the few – maybe even the only – artists today who has now had a successful 10-year run in the spotlight and yet, he cannot be pigeonholed into some kind of musical category. He’s the square peg for today’s round holed world of modern radio.

Sure, when Mellow Gold and Loser came out in 1994, Beck spent a year as the essential cover-boy for the ‘slacker’ generation (X). But that label fell off as soon as Odelay rocked the town like a moldy crouton with the fun-loving Where It’s At. Nobody new what to think of this kid from California when he hit the scene. And for his fans, many of them still can’t. Which is what makes being a Beck fan all the more pleasing.

The thing that makes Beck rare these days, and so likable and respected, is that he’s like most of us when it comes to music. His musical tastes aren’t locked into one particular genre. Depending on what he’s into at the time or the mood he’s in, that’s the type of album that comes out.

This has made him the fodder of some critics who accuse him of pure, coldhearted calculation on his part. These people claim there’s nothing spontaneous about Beck and there never will be. Then again, these are most likely the people that didn’t like him in the first place so it’s easy to see why they feel that way.

Most of us go through phases when certain kinds of music strike a chord with us more than others. One month, it may be British rockers like Bloc Party or the Futureheads, the next month it’s the power-pop and ballads of Guster, then it’s on to Johnny Cash and some old time, ticked off folk country. Most of us don’t go through life listening or enjoying to only one kind of music. Beck does the same thing, only he makes it, and he does so with tongue firmly planted in cheek from an entertainment standpoint.

His new album Guero is a great piece of sonic pleasure. In it are bits and pieces from all of Beck’s previous bodies of work. It’s radically different from track to track, yet it feels 100% Beck.

Sure, there are the paint-by-numbers, corporate-created bands like Slipknot, Nickelback, Good Charlotte, and Linkin Park who regurgitate the same stuff over and over and over. And yeah, those bands have certainly been/are popular, but in the long run, those bands won’t be remembered for being either groundbreaking or adventurous. But, they were all more “popular” than Beck at some point in their careers.

Then again, I’ll give you your 15,000 seat amphitheater show for any of those bands. Me? I’ll take seeing Beck perform in front of sold-out 3,000-5,000 seat venues today and any day over the last 10 years, and hopefully the next 10 years.

(Beck’s new fall tour kicks off soon. Check out his website to find out locations. Detroit and Chicago are on the docket. I highly, highly, highly recommend seeing him perform live. He is a pure entertainer and you will not be disappointed in seeing him live….that is of course, unless you’re a sap and you shell out $200 to see him open up for the Rocking-chair Stones and their 3,452,745th take on the song “satisfaction”. Enjoy. Mick and Keef need your support.)

CD Review - Whatever: The 90s Box Set

Not to steal someone else's review, but I'm doing it. As someone who essentially grew up in the 90s (i.e. went to high school and college), this CD compilation is hideous at best and manipulative at worst. Attached below is the review of the new 90's compilation that you can buy from Rhino records called "Whatever: The 90s Box Set" taken from www.pitchforkmedia.com. Good God. It's a longggg review, but it speaks perfectly to me, at least regarding music from this decade. It's dead on in panning it. This is your-parents-90s-radio, all boxed up and ready for you to enjoy. Want to listen to some C&C Music Factory, some MC Hammer and some Jump Around? Got an arena that needs songs to get peeps off their feet? Boy, have we got the CDs for you. Enjoy.



Disc 3 track 8: King Missile, "Detachable Penis"Disc 3 track 9: Silk, "Freak Me"

Good God the juvenilia! I was 14 when I first heard "Detachable Penis," and I found it catchy and hilarious enough that my friend Dave and I choreographed a whole geeky "interpretive" dance to go with it, which we performed backstage in our high school auditorium for a selection of friends. Later that week, on a late-night bus ride, I split a pair of earbuds with a girl from our audience, listening to the left channel of "Freak Me" and touching actual boobs for the first time. This box puts the two tracks together because it thinks it knows me. It can't explain how I managed to touch this girl's boobs even after she'd seen me doing geeky interpretive dances, but whatever: I shouldn't have been touching those particular boobs anyway, and now, whenever I hear Silk's overheated "wanna lick up you up and down" come-ons (most recently from a singing homeless guy), I get all sorts of Portnoy's Complaint issues going.

Disc 2 track 17: Spin Doctors, "Little Miss Can't Be Wrong"Disc 2 track 18: dada, "Dizz Knee Land"

You think it's totally self-indulgent of me to share my banal high-school memories at the top of this review? Then don't think about buying this box set. Whatever is seven discs and over a hundred dollars' worth of random nostalgia and unflinching faith in the disposable income of formerly middle-class suburban alt-rock kids now around their late twenties. The track selection is specifically designed to let people in this demographic spend 15 minutes going "oh shit, I remember...and holy shit, lookit, that one video, right...I am Cornholio I need TP for my bunghole...holy fuck ... no MC 900 Foot Jesus?" All for the last decade during which people relied on ganky old cassette dubs, and therefore don't have ganky old external hard drives to crack open when they want to get Proustian about 4 Non Blondes.

Disc 3 track 12: Green Jelly, "Three Little Pigs"Disc 3 track 13: Dinosaur Jr., "Start Choppin"

So what do you want to do: Bask in the warm-fuzzy vibe of shared pop-cultural history or be crushed by the thought that your suburban alt-rock song-memories, and maybe even some of the stories that go with them, are shared by just as massive a cohort as you-- being a child of the nineties and therefore wanting to be "special"-- always feared? And so long as you're examining your emotions, check this out: How many of the tracks you're excited to see here did you actively despise when they were on your teenage radio? Not yet 30 and already so wistful! Pop culture races along, and here is the ambient sound of your teenage years; I have Big Head Todd like a sepia snapshot of me growing up in Colorado and hating Big Head Todd; do we just buy this now and put it in storage for when we retire?

Disc 5 track 14: Better than Ezra, "Good"Disc 5 track 15: Blues Traveler, "Run-Around"

Well no, because Rhino couldn't possibly understand just how special you are, and they're cheating on you with everyone in your age group. The bulk of this set consists of standards and one-hit non-wonders from the mid-nineties flare-of up alternative rock radio, and maybe if you pared that segment down to a couple of discs it'd be a half-decent idea: There's nothing wrong with getting a kick out of hearing Green Jelly or Marcy Playground one last time, but there's certainly something wrong with spending a hundred bucks to do it. Same goes for the subset of perfectly fine, memorable alt-rock singles scattered around, especially in Time-Life infomercial terms: Looking for a way to avoid the expense and headache of tracking down Helmet, Sugar, Juliana Hatfield, and Ash albums? Except: If that's your angle, how much do you really need some C+C Music Factory and Right Said Fred hanging out on the other five discs? How much do you need weirdly placed tracks by Pavement, My Bloody Valentine, and Stereolab, tracks from albums fans mostly bought and still listen to? Is this a recap of alt-rock memories or a Now That's What I Called the Nineties hits compilation or what? By whose estimation, exactly, do quasi-riot-grrrls and Seattle rockers form this much of the nineties history? And why does this listing seem to swing back and forth between "remember the theme from Friends" kitsch-stalgia and seemingly trying to tell us that some of these tracks are actually good and important?

Disc 6 track 11: Jewel, "Who Will Save Your Soul"Disc 6 track 12: Primitive Radio Gods, "Can You Believe Our Label was Willing to Promote a Song with a Long Stupid Title about a Phone Booth?"

The only thread that really works, in fact, is the carefully selected line of Genuine Chart Hits that Suburban White People Liked then Forgot About. Rhino just happens to assume that somewhere around 1993 you bought a bunch of flannel shirts or striped tights and threw away whichever of your middle-school mix tapes contained "Walking in Memphis" and "Silent Lucidity," and after that you thought you were much too cool to buy anything by Des'ree or Deep Blue Something-- and then somehow, by decade's end, you were back to being cool with Shawn Mullins. See? Rhino doesn't know you at all. But you're special to me, and at least if they'd been a little more consistent about the pop streak, we could be listening to Natalie Imbruglia's "Torn" right now.

Disc 3 track 5: Wreckx-N-Effect, "Rump Shaker"Disc 3 track 6: Snow, "Informer"

Speaking of pop: A quick scan over the track listing might give you the mistaken impression that Rhino have made a half-hearted attempt to get some hip-hop, r&b, and dance music on here. Turns out there's no "half" going on. They've just managed to cull an exact, scientific selection of the particular hip-hop, r&b, and dance hits that their alt-rock demographic-- hell, their alt-rock demographic's parents-- either liked or can't help remembering. "Can't Touch This" is the first track on the first disc, followed by plenty of EMF and Jesus Jones and other things that struck me as sounding "cool" and "different" on the radio on the way to soccer practice, where-- oh memory!-- a guy named Steve would later sell me all his old Cure and Morrissey albums, because he was getting into Van Halen and trying to pick up chicks. Whatever: from there on it's all En Vogue and Sir Mix-a-Lot and "O.P.P." and other things that even people in comas would remember, plus such legends of hip-hop's Golden Age as Kriss Kross, plus stuff like Canadian toaster Snow (whose "Informer" video was so popular that MTV put the words and a bouncing ball on screen), jock favorite "Jump Around" (by the proud Irish rappers of House of Pain), and, cleverly, DAS EFX, filling the spot you'd think would be reserved for Digable Planets or Arrested Development. Whoomp, there you are, and no Onyx, either: You can get nostalgic for both the alt-rock hits you loved and a few of the pop hits you pretended not to! Plus Boyz II Men.
Disc 1 track 2: Sinead O'Connor, "Nothing Compares 2 U"Disc 1 track 3: Michael Penn, "No Myth"

Whatever. I am nothing if not a nostalgist; I have associations for miles and stories to tell; I spent this exact decade in high school and college and the mere track listing of this box makes me want to hunt down old friends. Here is a bunch of stuff I remember, and yet it's not even worth one hundred dollars. Good thing we no longer live in that Time-Life world, that pre-mp3 world where you couldn't possibly track down all these memorable hits; give yourself an afternoon and a copy of iTunes, and you can make your nineties however you like, for memory or for quality or for fun. If all else fails, didn't they just put out My So-Called Life and the first season of The Real World on DVD?
-Nitsuh Abebe, July 25, 2005

To Tell the Truth

Once again, we are embroiled in a firestorm that has entangled many in the country. In case you haven’t heard, it was revealed this week that Bush’s Brain, otherwise known as Karl Rove, identified a CIA operative to a reporter supposedly in retaliation for her husband’s outspokenness against the president.

From the very onset of the investigation, Rove said he never heard of the woman and didn’t have anything to do with this woman’s name being leaked. Come to find out that this isn’t the case at all and now Rove is hiding for cover under and the white house is backtracking faster than a redneck at a gay pride parade.

While I won’t get into Rove is guilty or not – and he is…the lying fat f#ck – what’s interesting is to see these same people on the far right step up to vehemently defend Rove.

Let’s take a trip back through the time machine shall we? It’s the mid 90’s and it’s been learned that the president has received a blow job in the oval office.

Oh my God!!!! The horror! Our national defense is weakened!!! People are going to die for this!!!

Actually, no. None of this happened, but it sent a firestorm throughout conservatives across the country. So much so that the President was impeached for such a pathetic reason.

Why do I bring this up? Because throughout the week I’ve heard Republican after Republican stand up and defend Rove’s actions, actions, mind you, that may be illegal and are certainly reprehensible from a top White House aide. These same people that are now defending Rove and are saying this is nothing but a partisan witch hunt are the exact same people who dragged out the Lewinski affair to a point of no return.

There’s nothing funnier and sadder than political hypocrisy. We see it all the time in Washington from both sides of the aisle.

One can’t help but wonder if there will ever come a time when this country’s leaders can once again find time to trust and work with one another. I think it can happen, but certainly not under this administration given their history of denial, deceit and cover-up.