Don't Bogart That Joint...

What's next, the Doritos' diet?

Call Me Crazy

I don’t own a Jackson Pollock, but neither does this guy. A forensic analysis by Harvard University has determined paintings discovered in 2003 and thought to be Pollock’s aren’t. They discovered some of the pigments used in the paints were not available until well after the artist died in 1956.

Wanna have some fun? Roll your own Pollock…

Here’s to the crazy ones…

Brand (Dis)Loyalty

Are you loyal to any particular brands? Brandweek’s 2006 Customer Loyalty Awards provide some insight to the leading brands in our 50 states and some of the results surprised me. For example, in Athletic Footwear, New Balance rated higher in loyalty than Adidas and Nike. More startling to me was in the Quick Serve Food category where Subway came out on top. Ugh. I ate there once. Two words: Microwaved steak. Also surprising is the dismal “show” of Coca-Cola in the “10 Teaspoons of Sugar in Carbonated Water” category behind Pepsi and nuclear-glow Mountain Dew.

If you are loyal to a brand, what, if anything would break that loyalty? Based on my experience, price is not a big factor, but the customer experience is. I’ll cite 2 examples in technology and one in automotive service.

Wireless Phone Service: Up until last weekend, I was paying around $160.00/month to Verizon Wireless for my Treo with internet/email capability and Megan’s phone, all on a 2,100 minute/month plan. Verizon is expensive, but my experience with their service has been outstanding. Last weekend I picked up a phone for Jessica and the service in their retail store was just over the top great. A retail associate helped us pick the phone (Pink Razr) and noted because of my company discount, it would cost us exactly $0.00. Everyone in the store appeared to be well trained and very customer focused. I’ll continue to pay high rates to Verizon because of the value of their service.

Digital Cameras: As I’ve written before, I got a bad PowerShot 70. I found out they were offering a “free” repair, so I sent it in. When it was finally returned several weeks later, I discovered the repair parts were used, scratched and not the same color as the camera! I wrote to them on October 22, 2006 to express my dissatisfaction. I’m still waiting for a response. In the meantime, I’ve purchased an HP digital camera and a Sony HD Camcorder for some $700.00. I’m done with Canon. No service, no quid.

Auto Service: Over the years, the Volvo service I’ve received from Bob DiNapoli at European Auto Werks almost makes me want to buy another one. Almost. Since Ford bought Volvo, I think Volvo quality has taken a hit, and Ford’s recent performance does not inspire confidence. Hmmm… but maybe Bob services BMW’s…

What brands are you loyal or disloyal to and why?

Lil’ the Thrill

Reading about Filene’s Basement's impending closure for up to two years while its building is renovated reminded me of my late paternal grandmother, Lillian (Coleman) Daley. My recollection had dimmed some, but there are some memories that remain. The first is from the perspective of a boy who’s eyes only rose to the tops of the clothes bins in the dusty basement during the mid 60’s. That perspective gave me a unique view of half crazed women rifling through piles of what I’d later understand to be flying brassieres’ Yes, it was scary down there.

The second story is actually a story that occurred on a second story. Um, okay, it was a third story, but I'm not changing that line... Anyway, the two bedrooms for my brothers and me growing up at 10 Pine Street were renovated attic space with ceilings sloped with the roof line. One night after some sort of a battle with probably my brother Kevin, “Nana” told me a story of how one brother carried the other when the brother couldn’t walk. I don’t remember the details, but I’ll never forget the punchline. She ended the story by telling how the young man doing the carrying said, “He ain’t heavy. He’s my brother.” Every time I’ve heard the Hollies song over the years since, I’ve thought of that moment.

Since the statute of limitations has long since passed, I can now tell this story… One night when I was in high school… I was 15 or 16… Evidently I consumed some bad hops or barley, because for some reason as I dragged my ill carcass up the front stairs, I was yelling for some guy named “Ralph” and vomiting. It very well could have been food poisoning... Well, no. Now that I’m thinking about it, I remember being in a prone position barfing out of an open car door in the parking lot of our hometown McDonalds. My friends of course were extremely worried about my welfare as they ate. I remember Bobby “Roggie” Rowe even asking, “Hey Leo, want a cheeseburger?” “Nana” was the first to reach me on the front stairs and she did all she could with her barely five foot frame to help me. Suddenly, a less sympathetic figure in the form of my mother appeared ranting like a lunatic in my general direction. “Oh, Carol, he’s just got some kind of a bug,” pleaded my savior Lillian in a high pitch as she threw herself in front of me like a Secret Service agent prepared to take a bullet. “A BEER AND CIGARETTE BUG?” bellowed my mother, certainly intent of curing me permanently of my “bug.”

I never saw her before she died. It seemed she went from good health to no health in just a couple weeks 18 years ago. Megan was due imminently and I chose to stay home instead of making the trip to Florida. The next time I saw her, she really didn’t look like my grandmother. The little woman from Nova Scotia who had survived an abusive alcoholic husband and many trips to unimaginable places in search of her heroin addicted son was still clutching her Rosary beads, but she was gone. She got to know and love Jessica, but never met Megan who was born a couple weeks later. Oh, how she would have loved Kyle and he her. My boy would have had lots of fun with “Nana Lily.”

After the wake, I was the last one in a small room as the funeral director closed the casket. I lost it. I’d been OK up till then, but I guess the thought of never seeing her again was overwhelming. As I write this, it’s clear to me it still is. I miss you Nana. I love you.

Somebody Should Get a Plaque

The hygienist was scraping away and I was trying to relax as the sharp cold steel crept closer to my vulnerable gums. The abrasion continued and I let my mind wander away from the smell of decay now wafting out of my mouth agape. With all the flossing and high-tech brushing and Listerine-ing, my pie hole still smelled like a sewer pipe exiting Newark on a hot August day. I cannot imagine spending every day in peoples mouths. My daughter Jessica once wanted to be a dental hygienist, but I described to her something like the aforementioned and she chose… Well, she didn’t do that. I wondered just how long I had been going to my current dentist, and doing a little simple subtraction, (2007 – 1987 = 20) I surmised it was close to twenty years. “Almost to the day,” replied Cathy through her mask, looking at my record. “Your first appointment was January 5, 1987.” Twenty years… That’s about 21,915 cups of coffee stains for those of you keeping score, and I’m vainly going to pursue a whiter shade of pale for the old incisors and cuspids. Yep, by early March I’ll have a new fake smile, but I’ll still really mean it.

Blog Neglect...

The participle dangling from the tattered black background was the first sad clue. I couldn’t really describe it as a blog. Not a well kept one, anyway. It was in complete disarray with verbs strewn everywhere and overused adjectives soiling the digitally pixilated walls. There was the stench of a bin on the floor full of unchanged kitty alliteration. An avocado refrigerator had not been cleaned in…well, ever and was reeking… filled with little nuggets of words hardened and crusty; no longer worthy of consumption… Well, not by anyone of sane mind. I looked around and saw there was some effort of upkeep in the past. There were nearly two years of neatly stacked archives, but they were accumulating the inevitable dust of time and disregard. A picture of a vaguely familiar man hung in a back room. In one of those Déjà vu moments, I felt I’d been there before and I recognized the face, but I can’t recall the name. The smile of the man seemed genuine. Was he happy at that moment? What happened to him? My fear is he’s buried somewhere under the mountain of run-on sentences piled up in the IP address of a lonely dark place. I’ll keep looking…

Sunday Sports in my Boxer Shorts

Certainly I am not “the” Swami. That godlike mark belongs to Jeff ever since he predicted, dead on, the exact record of the Boston Red Sox in 1993. By the way, it was 80-82 and his stunning prescience transpired before a pitch was thrown that year. That makes me a Swami-wannabe, a Swami-poser… Yes, an imitator and a fraud. That, of course, doesn’t stop anyone these days from spouting off about, um, anything.

With that, here’s what will happen in the AFC and NFC Championship games later today:

• Chicago led the NFL by forcing 44 turnovers this year. For the Bears to win, that defensive trend has got to continue today. They’ll take two from Reggie Bush and one from Drew Brees.
  
  
• Rex Grossman will “stay within himself” and not turn the ball over.
  
  
• Many people favor the Saints as a trendy pick to help heal the still gaping wound of Hurricane Katrina. If not for poor clock management and a terrible decision to punt late in the game by Eagles coach Andy Reid last week, the Saints probably wouldn’t be playing today. The fairytale ends today in a flood of Bears defenders.
  
  
• Bears coach Lovie Smith is one of two African-American coaches with a shot to get to “the game sandwiched between very expensive commercials and Prince.” Mr. Smith has a dream. “The dream I have had all week is the Chicago Bears being presented with the George Halas Trophy at Soldier Field and for Virginia McCaskey (the late Mr. Halas’ daughter) to accept it.” Dreams can come true.

Da Bears by 13.

• Colts safety Bob Sanders will not finish the game. On one of his kamikaze dashes from the Colts secondary, a Patriot will lay him out. When he can’t answer where he is or what day it is, his work will be done for the day.

• Backup prediction – Tom Brady will hit Ben Watson with a touchdown pass straight up the field into the zone vacated by Mr. Sanders.

• Kevin Faulk will throw a touchdown pass. Earlier in the week, I thought it would be Lawrence Maroney, but I’m not sure he can throw. Kevin Faulk can.
  
  
• Peyton Manning will not “choke,” nor will he win.
  
  
• Much has been made of the kicking game with former Patriot and Hall of Famer Adam Vinatieri now kicking for Indy. Yes, kicking will be the difference in the game. Each kicker will get 3 shots in the game. The best clutch kicker in the history of the game will miss one. The rookie won’t.

Pats by 3.

Another Thousand Words

The Scary Guys in My Head

Recently I caught a piece of the “VH1 Honors” show on high-def MTV featuring tributes to Queen, Judas Priest, Def Leppard and “the hottest band in the land,” KISS. The segment I saw was the “All Star KISS Tribute Band” cranking a cover. It was some damn fun flat-out rock and roll and after watching it again last night “on 11” courtesy of my DVR, I spent today with these scary bastards ripping “God of Thunder” through my head:

• Gilby Clarke (Guns N' Roses) on guitar
• Scott Ian (Anthrax) on Gino's "Axe" bass
• Tommy Lee (Pam Anderson) on drums
• Slash (Guns N' Roses and Volkswagen) on guitar
• Rob Zombie belting out vocals
• Special guest Ace Frehley (KISS) on guitar

I can’t describe the carnage so here:

$357,000,000,000 and counting…

Maybe it’s the mounting toll of death and the waste of treasury, but lately I’ve been thinking about the seemingly intractable situation in the Middle East, its causes, and if there’s any hope for a resolution. The cost in capital is enormous and the human cost immeasurable. It's tragic, but we’ll never know if a child killed by a suicide bomber or a B-1 Bomber would have grown to cure cancer or evolve fusion beyond the experimental.

The tax dollars of you, me and our grandchildren is at $357,000,000,000 and climbing. Many US corporations and their investors benefit from this spending, but just think of how that capital could have been invested instead of being literally vaporized… One estimate suggests we could have provided over 17 million students four-year scholarships at public universities. How about alternative energy? It’s estimated only around $25B a year is invested worldwide in renewable energy capacity and research. What technological miracle might we have produced for $357B? It’s beyond me to speculate, but it sure would buy a lot of solar panels and at $1.5B to $2B a pop, it would build about 200 new nuclear power plants.

Please correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re in Iraq to fight terrorism? I don’t recall there being any terrorism in Iraq before we got there. Oh, Saddam… that’s right, we needed to remove that ruthless dictator and free the Iraqi people so they could enjoy democracy and Wal-Mart. Didn’t we support Saddam and Iraq in their war against Iran in the 80’s? Oh, he killed his own people. Um, don’t the Saudi’s do that? How’s their record on civil rights? I’m confused. Oh, the oil thing… Nevermind.

Now I’m not a fan of Rosie O’Donnell by any stretch. I thought she was pretty good in “Harriet the Spy” and “A League of Their Own,” but in general I just find her loud and obnoxious. Aside from her current kindergarten spat with “The Combover,” she’s been ripped recently by the boys on FoxNews for saying, “…radical Christianity is just as threatening as radical Islam in a country like America.” On this point, we agree. As I’ve written before, manipulating red-state Christian fundamentalists with anti-gay and anti-abortion themes helped put Mr. Bush in the White House with a Republican congressional majority and here we are. 2,973 mostly civilians died on 9/11 at the hands of Islamic fundamentalists and over 50,000 Iraqi civilians have died in the war since our arrival, and neither of these losses are justified. In my opinion, flying a plane full of civilians into a building full of same and raining 500lb bombs on a Baghdad neighborhood full of civilians to kill the Hussein brothers have one thing in common: they evoked terror on innocents.

Now the drums are faintly beating again and the winds of war are blowing toward Tehran. Why? Well, Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad has been an outspoken critic of Israel, even allegedly claiming that the Holocaust is a myth. Crazy, yeah, but I think he’s crazy like a fox and is playing domestic politics to appease an Islamic fundamentalist population. He also insists Iran has a right to develop nuclear technology, and that has Israel understandably concerned. Which brings us to the Jewish state.

I find it curious that in 2007, there are still many countries with an adherence to a specific religion, mostly Islam and Buddhism. It may come as a surprise to many that Israel is primarily a secular nation, and by law every citizen has full and equal civil rights, regardless of their religion. In practice however, some in the large Israeli Arab/Muslim community may dispute that. But that's no different than the racial profiling that has gone on here since 9/11; the primary responsibility of government is the safety of its citizens and Israel is the best there is at it in spite of constant threat.

Isn’t it time to get the parties back to the table and find a solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict? Before I began researching this, I thought that turning Jerusalem into neutral land, like that of the UN in Manhattan that is “international territory” might be viable. The UN website describes their NY site thusly, “The land does not belong to just one country, but to all countries that have joined the Organization.” In fact, such a proposed solution was passed on November 29, 1947 as United Nations General Assembly Resolution 181. It deemed Jerusalem a “corpus separatum” or international city, to be administered by the UN. I think a better solution would be co-administration by a Palestinian-Israeli governing body with a commitment to “freedom of worship for all.” Unfortunately the resolution was only accepted by the Jews, and was rejected by the Arabs in Palestine. The bloodshed has continued nearly unabated since then.

I’m not optimistic, but wouldn’t three hundred and fifty seven billion have gone a long way toward getting these people in a room to find peace?

Imagine
by John Lennon

Imagine there's no heaven
It's easy if you try
No hell below us
Above us only sky
Imagine all the people
Living for today...

Imagine there's no countries
It isn't hard to do
Nothing to kill or die for
And no religion too
Imagine all the people
Living life in peace...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will be as one

Imagine no possessions
I wonder if you can
No need for greed or hunger
A brotherhood of man
Imagine all the people
Sharing all the world...

You may say I'm a dreamer
But I'm not the only one
I hope someday you'll join us
And the world will live as one

The little moments…

Just before leaving for Philly, I stopped into my local Overhead Door dealer to buy a nifty Mini Remote Controller. When Kyle and I pulled into the garage that night, it was a pleasure to leisurely walk out of the garage instead of hitting the door-close button on the wall then dashing out under the closing door, but above the infrared safety beam that would stop the door from closing…

Anyway, Kyle was clutching his new Voldemort wand he’d received for Christmas and had no idea about this new remote…

Me: “Hey, dude. I forgot to close the garage door. See if you can close it with your wand. Let’s see if that thing works.”
Kyle: “Avada Kedavra!”

• Voldemort wand... $29.50
• Mini Remote Controller... $36.75
• Seeing the look on Kyle’s face after he closes the garage with his new wand… Priceless.

100,000 Years...

As we rolled the winding backstreets of West Chester, PA in my brothers “Shaguar,” he handed me this magazine. It reminded me that today is an anniversary worthy of celebration, or at least a blog post…

At this very moment thirty years ago, I was eighteen and in a room on the 7th floor of the Holiday Inn in Providence, RI applying makeup. Dillard was there. I usually had to help him with his makeup. He could never seem to get the Stanley star right. Mike Boyages and Julio “Down by the Schoolyard” Encanarceo were there. They were rookies, but would give it their best shot as Peter Criss and Ace Frehley.

The anticipation was building. We had 7th row floor seats to see KISS. We stared out the window at the Providence Civic Center below. We’d been there since about noon, watching bowl games and listening to KISS. Suddenly, there was commotion outside our door and then knocking. I peered out the fishbowl peephole and saw some people our age, then I heard, “I swear the band is in this room. I saw them from the street.” They thought we were the band! We let them in and shared some beers and a joint.

[Rose Bowl note: Brent Musburger loves saying “John David Booty.”]

The walk across the street was like a parade with people staring, smiling and slapping us “five.” (I don’t think the “high-five” had been invented yet.) We triumphantly entered the arena like victorious gladiators and made our was to the seats, directly in front of the “God of Thunder” himself, Gene Simmons.

[Rose Bowl note: USC has hot cheerleaders.]

The crowd chanted “WE WANT KISS” in short, loud bursts. The lights went out. The crowd went wild… Yesterday I relived the moment, sans makeup, with my brother as we watched an April ’77 show from Budokan Hall in Tokyo. It’s on my rockin Christmas present from Jeffro. Thanks, pal. The "hottest band in the land" opened by cranking “Detroit Rock City” (natch), as they descended 20’ lit stairs, starting aside the giant KISS logo and curving down around Peter Criss’ ridiculously large drum kit.

[Rose Bowl note: USC coach Pete Carroll is pumped and jacked.]

They did all the hits… Gene blew fire at the end of “Firehouse” and spewed blood to open “God of Thunder.” Classic KISS theater. We were unfortunately subjected to the lameness of “Beth,” but the band redeemed themselves with their final encore, “Black Diamond.” Unfortunately, that’s when things went horribly wrong for my pal Dillard.

About halfway through the song, tons of confetti rained down over the first twenty or so rows on the floor. As I later learned, old Mr. Star Eye got a piece of confetti caught in his throat and began choking on it. Lest I remind you how we spent our day? Yeah, it was dry mouth maximus by this time and when he finally whacked me on the arm for help, his eyes were all watery and the makeup that I had so painstakingly applied was smeared all over his face. He looked like a crazed, evil clown as he gagged, coughed and pointed to his throat. Sadly, he did it all as a messed-up mime as I couldn’t hear a damn thing he was saying above the din of the mountainous stacks of Marshall amps, only 25 feet away. Now I’m all about helping a brother out, but Black fucking Diamond was playing and they were about to set off all kinds of pyrotechnic shit on stage. What was I supposed to do, Heimlich the confetti out?

Well, Dillard survived and wet his whistle with a cold Coke at McDonalds as we watched in horror as Julio ate a disgusting amount of McFood… I mean, like 4 Big Mac’s, 4 fries, apple pies, Cokes… It was the most excessive satiating of the munchies I have ever witnessed.

And that's the way it was. January 1, 1977.