Despite the fact that there's been so much happening in and around my immediate and overall worlds, I haven't found the time to stop by -- yet again -- and the only reason I managed this missive is due to the fact that the intense NYC heat, coupled with allergies and a load of work, has rendered me unable, apparently, to get more than a few hours of sleep at any given time. And although I have lots of things to address in the dark, pre-dawn hours of the morning, dusting, laundry and cleaning in general don't sound nearly as appetizing as do me visiting here to give the place a little sprucing up.
I've been meaning to address the Michael Vick situation: Mr. Vick, as you most likely recall, was recently indicted for his role in a dogfighting enterprise which he bankrolled and, apparently, in which he was a major participant. For most of us, the notion of dogfights -- or even cockfights -- is sort of a non-issue. In this country, we tend to focus on things that seemingly are above ground, and for most people, the concept of dog-fighting isn't even on the radar. So it was so much more appalling that Mr. Vick, who up until the last several months was a relatively upstanding member of the society of pro athletes, was accused of not only bankrolling this operation, but being personally involved in the brutal disposal -- a polite euphemism for barbaric execution -- of dogs deemed not vicious enough for combat.
To expand on this for just a moment, this "disposal" involved electrocution, beating, drowning or -- worse -- repeated slamming of a dog's body onto the ground until it died. How can anyone who performed any of these acts -- specifically, the final item on that list -- consider him- or herself a human being? What kind of person could repeatedly slam another living creature into the ground until it ceased to be alive?
The other noxious tidbit associated with this "industry" is the fact that females and males are trained to compete in the ring, occasionally against one another. This particular fact makes breeding suitable combatants difficult; females are trained to inflict pain on their male counterparts, so finding suitable males to merely survive the mating process is difficult in and of itself. Apparently, to answer this dilemma, some industrious individual invented something called a "rape box" -- essentially, a barrel or some sort of surface to which a female dog is tied to, or onto which strapped into a harness, and the male is permitted to mate with her at his leisure and his safety. Despite the name, this secondary aspect of this "industry," while abhorrent, is not quite as repulsive as the matter-of-fact, brutal disposal of the participants.
Aside from the fact that several NFL players had originally supported Mr. Vick and suggested dogfighting wasn't even illegal (both points they later recanted), it is fairly clear that this issue reveals a disturbing and, frankly, disgusting dichotomy. This is not about financial class -- Mr. Vick has wealth beyond which most Americans cannot even fathom -- this is about character, or lack thereof. Moreover, it also reinforces the fact that no matter how much money one earns, class is something which is inherent in the individual, whether he has millions or nothing.
The other major news story of the day is the tragic collapse of a major commuter bridge in Minnesota yesterday. We've by now all seen the horrific destruction this incident has left behind, both in terms of the physical damage to the bridge and the loss of life it caused. What's worse, however, is the notion that this bridge, like many others around the country, had been listed as needing upgrades/repairs in order to make it safe for use. Those improvements, unfortunately, never came, and the four or more people whose lives were lost as a result are a sad, permanent testament to the pernicious result procrastination can have when combined with government inefficiency.
The main concern, of course, is that because this bridge, like many other American commuter bridges, was built nearly 75 years ago, the traffic patterns for which it was designed and the traffic which it withstood were, and remain, far different. Essentially, without suggesting this will happen again with worse consequences, it certainly does suggest that it's a possibility.
Finally, personally, nothing much of excitement has been happening. In tandem with the weather, the workload and the aforementioned lack of sleep, I've been doing as much as I can both in and outside the office to insure I'm ahead of the curve. Since a lot of my work requires me to be downtown and put in face-time at city agencies, I've borne the brunt of one of the most shitty weeks, weather-wise, that the New York summer dishes out. It's been between 85 and 95, from my understanding, this whole week, and leaving my air-conditioned, 70-degree apartment in the morning to hit the bus stop a block away is an exercise that makes me wonder why I even bother showering at all.
Last weekend a friend and I hit Costco for a variety of goodies, and I wound up getting everything I needed and then some. I mention this because I bought a case of Diet Coke in cans and a case of Poland Spring 24oz water in sports bottles. Normally this supply would last me months, but due to the extreme weather, I've sucked down way too much DC and the Poland Spring, thanks to regular work-outs, won't last another ten days. It could be worse, of course; we could be living in the age of tap water and fans without air conditioning.
Finally, Kaia and I have been addressing her impending month-long stay in NYC ahead of her eventual move here, but between her schedule and mine, we haven't been able to spend much time searching for sublets. We both know where we're headed but at the same time, it's frustrating when reality throws obstacles in our path, and 3,000 miles between us is only one thereof.
As a post-script, the movie 300 came out on DVD and since I never got around to seeing it in the theater (despite wanting desperately to see it), I opted to get it on DVD. Since I upgraded to a widescreen HDTV, I've been doing a lot of work and watching programs I've recorded on the HD-DVR (the hard-drive recorder). Essentially this means I have an infinite -- literally -- supply of stuff to watch. Between that and the fact this week is "Shark Week" -- Discovery Channel's week-long series of shark-related programming -- I haven't had the time to fire up 300 on my DVD player. Earlier in the week I planned on watching it this weekend, but since I've got plans for almost the entire weekend I honestly don't know how or when I'll find the time to watch this film, which is sort of aggravating. It's akin to being all dressed up with nowhere to go, except I've got shitloads of places to go and nothing to wear. Or something like that.
Nevermind. It's early, I'm overtired, and I'm done apologizing ;-) Until next time...
-B-
Friday, August 03, 2007
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Ghost In The Machine
Wellums, there's plenty of reason to be curious as to why this space has seemingly shit the bed over the past two or so weeks. Most of same stem from our intent to migrate to a new server, which is a) faster; b) more capable of distributing content, like pics, video and even a planned weekly Pod-cast; and c) more reliable in terms of content and template delivery.
However, the flip-side of that coin is that none of these plans have any relevance if the site doesn't fucking work. Said relevance has not been lost on me, so I apologize for any of you who have been needing a fix of the HoB.
Please note that the bulk of the improvements herein have been transparent -- or at least I had hoped they would be -- and once they have been completed same will insure a better Booginacious experience for us all, or at least I am hopeful of same.
Meanwhile...I'll be addressing Mike Nifong, Michael Vick, Scooter Libby's pardon, Iran, North Korea and the resurgence of the New York Yankees in soon-to-be posted rants.
Until then, please be patient while we improve from the inside out in lieu of the other way around.
Thank you...
-B-
However, the flip-side of that coin is that none of these plans have any relevance if the site doesn't fucking work. Said relevance has not been lost on me, so I apologize for any of you who have been needing a fix of the HoB.
Please note that the bulk of the improvements herein have been transparent -- or at least I had hoped they would be -- and once they have been completed same will insure a better Booginacious experience for us all, or at least I am hopeful of same.
Meanwhile...I'll be addressing Mike Nifong, Michael Vick, Scooter Libby's pardon, Iran, North Korea and the resurgence of the New York Yankees in soon-to-be posted rants.
Until then, please be patient while we improve from the inside out in lieu of the other way around.
Thank you...
-B-
Friday, July 13, 2007
It's Like A Heatwave (Only Hotter)
Okay, while I officially agree with the GOP that there is absolutely no such thing as global warming and that Al Gore is really an animatronic Communist, I can -- and will -- admit privately that if it was any hotter this week in NYC I would have been forced to spend my outside-the-office, work-related duties nearly 100% naked. And even saying that, much less contemplating it, is and should be an indicator that, yeah, it was incredibly hot and humid this past week in NYC.
Kaia managed to escape on Monday to San Fran, and she did so right before it went from "really hot" to "holy shit, if it gets any hotter I'm calling Kevorkian" hot. I think it reached somewhere between 90 and 95 earlier this week through Wednesday, and luckily -- mercifully -- Thursday was downright lovely at somewhere around the high 70's/low 80's.
Before the reader opines that my life is so devoid of anything of interest beyond my innate, irascible fascination with the weather, please note that when it's this hot, a) people in New York really can't and don't focus on much of anything else; b) I spend about 40-50% of the workday downtown dealing with city agencies, city employees and people on the street; c) even if I wanted to spend the aforementioned hours downtown in reasonably comfortable clothing, the only way it would be comfortable dealing with 95 degrees and humidity would be poolside, cooling off or preparing for another dip in the pool. Oh, and d) the heat is so inescapable (at times) that I find myself crossing from one side of the street to the other to avoid the direct, painful glare of the sun (awnings and tall buildings help). This last point should not be relegated to insignificance; I wouldn't cross the street if I saw a maniacal killer sporting a machete and a chainsaw and a bodyless head dripping blood unless it was going to help me reach my destination, but thanks to that big yellow ball in the sky, I'm now dodging cars, bicyclists and the odd scooter in the street to stay out of the sun.
Go figure.
Okay, now that I've -- hopefully -- managed to convince you, the reader, exactly how awful it really was this past week in NYC, I will say that there is no question that on some level the summer in NYC always features a week or two that evokes prior summers and a week or two in which it was painful to do anything outdoors in the City other than jump into a pool of unevaporated water, and unless we're in for a nasty summer, this past weekend was definitely one for the books. Now that we're in the technology age and air conditioners can be had for a mere $100 and up, it makes me wonder how anyone could survive these types of summers -- in the 40's and 50's, etc. -- without adequate A/C. If I was a kid flitting about an apartment in this type of summer 50 years ago and had no A/C, I'd get a shitty, no-paying gig at a movie theater or take classes just to insure I was in A/C.
Of course, the "green" response to the above-offered observation would be that these types of intense summers didn't occur 50 or so years ago. The response would continue, in essence, by saying that thanks to global warming, our winters are reduced in their intensity and our summers are 50% worse.
Maybe so...but while we can and should change our habits now -- recycling plastic and paper, using less electricity when/if possible, etc. -- we didn't have a lot of things 50 years ago, including styrofoam, packing peanuts, cell-phones, high-performance/high-output V-12 engines, readily-available, consumer-friendly four-wheel drive vehicles, or for that matter, easily-workable automobile leases. In fact, we didn't have a lot of stuff. So while we can reverse-reminisce about the not-so-good-old days, we should keep in mind that the planet -- despite what Live Earth and its organizers might suggest -- is a lot better off these days. True, there's fighting and war over more than 60% of the face of the planet -- but I can go get a cheap-ass cell-phone and call more than 60% of the planet for 3,000 or more minutes a month and it won't cost me shit. So I not only have the option, as an American, to go shoot 60% of the world's inhabitants, I can also posture about making the planet safer for them or call them and discuss it one-on-one, that is assuming we spoke the same language ;-)
My point is that this planet-wide warming issue is not simply a New York City one, nor is it confined to hot downtown streets in Jerusalem, Baghdad, Moscow, London or Sydney. But as much as the heat from the sun affects us all universally, so does the heat from fighting, war and the breakdown of diplomacy. So inasmuch as I face this interminable heat with regularity, I'm just going to continue to do everything I can to handle it on my own, keep my A/C cranked to 60% (and my apartment at a cool 70) and call it a day.
So the next time someone comes up to me and warns me this is a sign from The Almighty that a biblical plague has befallen us and I must repent in order to save the world from becoming one giant ball of heat and fire, I'm going to take that free handout Jehovah's Witness Bible and see how far up that volunteer's ass it will go -- and then shove it a little further.
As we recall hearing from Bartles and James, thank you for your support.
Stay wet, happy and cool.
Kaia managed to escape on Monday to San Fran, and she did so right before it went from "really hot" to "holy shit, if it gets any hotter I'm calling Kevorkian" hot. I think it reached somewhere between 90 and 95 earlier this week through Wednesday, and luckily -- mercifully -- Thursday was downright lovely at somewhere around the high 70's/low 80's.
Before the reader opines that my life is so devoid of anything of interest beyond my innate, irascible fascination with the weather, please note that when it's this hot, a) people in New York really can't and don't focus on much of anything else; b) I spend about 40-50% of the workday downtown dealing with city agencies, city employees and people on the street; c) even if I wanted to spend the aforementioned hours downtown in reasonably comfortable clothing, the only way it would be comfortable dealing with 95 degrees and humidity would be poolside, cooling off or preparing for another dip in the pool. Oh, and d) the heat is so inescapable (at times) that I find myself crossing from one side of the street to the other to avoid the direct, painful glare of the sun (awnings and tall buildings help). This last point should not be relegated to insignificance; I wouldn't cross the street if I saw a maniacal killer sporting a machete and a chainsaw and a bodyless head dripping blood unless it was going to help me reach my destination, but thanks to that big yellow ball in the sky, I'm now dodging cars, bicyclists and the odd scooter in the street to stay out of the sun.
Go figure.
Okay, now that I've -- hopefully -- managed to convince you, the reader, exactly how awful it really was this past week in NYC, I will say that there is no question that on some level the summer in NYC always features a week or two that evokes prior summers and a week or two in which it was painful to do anything outdoors in the City other than jump into a pool of unevaporated water, and unless we're in for a nasty summer, this past weekend was definitely one for the books. Now that we're in the technology age and air conditioners can be had for a mere $100 and up, it makes me wonder how anyone could survive these types of summers -- in the 40's and 50's, etc. -- without adequate A/C. If I was a kid flitting about an apartment in this type of summer 50 years ago and had no A/C, I'd get a shitty, no-paying gig at a movie theater or take classes just to insure I was in A/C.
Of course, the "green" response to the above-offered observation would be that these types of intense summers didn't occur 50 or so years ago. The response would continue, in essence, by saying that thanks to global warming, our winters are reduced in their intensity and our summers are 50% worse.
Maybe so...but while we can and should change our habits now -- recycling plastic and paper, using less electricity when/if possible, etc. -- we didn't have a lot of things 50 years ago, including styrofoam, packing peanuts, cell-phones, high-performance/high-output V-12 engines, readily-available, consumer-friendly four-wheel drive vehicles, or for that matter, easily-workable automobile leases. In fact, we didn't have a lot of stuff. So while we can reverse-reminisce about the not-so-good-old days, we should keep in mind that the planet -- despite what Live Earth and its organizers might suggest -- is a lot better off these days. True, there's fighting and war over more than 60% of the face of the planet -- but I can go get a cheap-ass cell-phone and call more than 60% of the planet for 3,000 or more minutes a month and it won't cost me shit. So I not only have the option, as an American, to go shoot 60% of the world's inhabitants, I can also posture about making the planet safer for them or call them and discuss it one-on-one, that is assuming we spoke the same language ;-)
My point is that this planet-wide warming issue is not simply a New York City one, nor is it confined to hot downtown streets in Jerusalem, Baghdad, Moscow, London or Sydney. But as much as the heat from the sun affects us all universally, so does the heat from fighting, war and the breakdown of diplomacy. So inasmuch as I face this interminable heat with regularity, I'm just going to continue to do everything I can to handle it on my own, keep my A/C cranked to 60% (and my apartment at a cool 70) and call it a day.
So the next time someone comes up to me and warns me this is a sign from The Almighty that a biblical plague has befallen us and I must repent in order to save the world from becoming one giant ball of heat and fire, I'm going to take that free handout Jehovah's Witness Bible and see how far up that volunteer's ass it will go -- and then shove it a little further.
As we recall hearing from Bartles and James, thank you for your support.
Stay wet, happy and cool.
Monday, July 09, 2007
All I Need is...
So, between Live Earth this past weekend and a jaunt Kaia and I took to Mohegan Sun in Connecticut, I suppose heading out in a few to the office isn't exactly awful.
Actually, it is on some level, if only because I had off from Wednesday to today, first, second, we had a blast over the weekend, and third she's now jetting off to San Francisco, all I need is a time machine to return me to the evening of June 21st.
It all started as we planned, with friends in Connecticut, to hit the casino. The choice between Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun is, apparently, an easy one. I'd visited Mohegan Sun awhile back, but this time we -- rather, Kaia -- was going with an agenda: Win a shitload of money...
Well, we ended up doing fine, so no worries there; however, the real agenda was for/with our friend Heidi, who heard that Jack Wagner (former soap/pop star, current beau of Heather Locklear) was going to be performing at Mohegan Sun. Heidi brought a few Jack Wagner 45's and a picture circa 1982 of Jack and his mullet, and when we arrived in the actual casino -- a tad late after enjoying a delicious dinner care of our friend H2T and Heidi, natch -- we could smell the excitement in the air -- either that, or a combination of cigarette and cigar smoke, cheap perfume and desperation.
All in all, we had a great time. We all did well at Mohegan, we all had a blast, and we got to spend the entire day with H2T and Heidi. Earlier that day, we picked up a blue Nissan Altima rental, headed out to CT, arrived in good spirits (thankfully the car's A/C was strong and fully-functional) and we chilled out and enjoyed some relaxation at H2T's.
The Live Earth shows -- the concerts held this past weekend to raise awareness for global warming and the environment -- were, for the most part, incredible. Some of the bands playing around the sites aren't bands in which I'm interested, but I was more than satisfied seeing Dave Matthews, the Foo Fighters, The Police, and, yes, even Madonna. Last night we watched some of the concerts I recorded in High Definition and were absolutely blown away by the entire audio/visual experience.
All in all, it was an incredible weekend that ended far too quickly.
In retrospect, vis-a-vis the weekend, I can only appreciate the fact that we have great friends, I have cash to deposit in the bank this afternoon, and the weather -- which was relatively obnoxious, if not merely abhorrent -- cooperated and didn't rain very much, if at all...so overall we had a great time gambling with friends, poking around the casino, and, all in all, Kaia and I attempted yet another challenge -- the multi-hour car trip (with me driving, of course) without issues of any kind, even with her PMS on the near horizon.
And this morning she went (back) to SFO. We're still figuring out all the logistics of her moving here so, perhaps, the next time I reveal she has gone to San Fran, it can be for a visit rather than her returning home.
More on that and other fronts later.
On to work...
-B-
Actually, it is on some level, if only because I had off from Wednesday to today, first, second, we had a blast over the weekend, and third she's now jetting off to San Francisco, all I need is a time machine to return me to the evening of June 21st.
It all started as we planned, with friends in Connecticut, to hit the casino. The choice between Foxwoods and Mohegan Sun is, apparently, an easy one. I'd visited Mohegan Sun awhile back, but this time we -- rather, Kaia -- was going with an agenda: Win a shitload of money...
Well, we ended up doing fine, so no worries there; however, the real agenda was for/with our friend Heidi, who heard that Jack Wagner (former soap/pop star, current beau of Heather Locklear) was going to be performing at Mohegan Sun. Heidi brought a few Jack Wagner 45's and a picture circa 1982 of Jack and his mullet, and when we arrived in the actual casino -- a tad late after enjoying a delicious dinner care of our friend H2T and Heidi, natch -- we could smell the excitement in the air -- either that, or a combination of cigarette and cigar smoke, cheap perfume and desperation.
All in all, we had a great time. We all did well at Mohegan, we all had a blast, and we got to spend the entire day with H2T and Heidi. Earlier that day, we picked up a blue Nissan Altima rental, headed out to CT, arrived in good spirits (thankfully the car's A/C was strong and fully-functional) and we chilled out and enjoyed some relaxation at H2T's.
The Live Earth shows -- the concerts held this past weekend to raise awareness for global warming and the environment -- were, for the most part, incredible. Some of the bands playing around the sites aren't bands in which I'm interested, but I was more than satisfied seeing Dave Matthews, the Foo Fighters, The Police, and, yes, even Madonna. Last night we watched some of the concerts I recorded in High Definition and were absolutely blown away by the entire audio/visual experience.
All in all, it was an incredible weekend that ended far too quickly.
In retrospect, vis-a-vis the weekend, I can only appreciate the fact that we have great friends, I have cash to deposit in the bank this afternoon, and the weather -- which was relatively obnoxious, if not merely abhorrent -- cooperated and didn't rain very much, if at all...so overall we had a great time gambling with friends, poking around the casino, and, all in all, Kaia and I attempted yet another challenge -- the multi-hour car trip (with me driving, of course) without issues of any kind, even with her PMS on the near horizon.
And this morning she went (back) to SFO. We're still figuring out all the logistics of her moving here so, perhaps, the next time I reveal she has gone to San Fran, it can be for a visit rather than her returning home.
More on that and other fronts later.
On to work...
-B-
Wednesday, July 04, 2007
Sheesh
Every time I find myself wandering farther and farther from these pages, I always have a good reason, and yet I still -- inevitably -- feel guilty and incomplete. It's not quite a month since I've graced -- or soiled -- these pages, and yet it feels like ages.
My bad.
First and foremost, happy belated-ish 4th of July. Kaia and I chilled out at home rather than go to a friend's. She wasn't feeling well and I was shot, so we chilled out and watched "An American Haunting" on Showtime -- how patriotic of us, natch -- before we caught the tail end of the bitchin' fireworks display over the East River. For those of you missed it, here's a net-based sample.
For those of you who did see the fireworks, I'm very happy for you and your family and your friends and all the people you'll yap about the fireworks about over the next 36 hours, which is approximately 15% longer than any human on this planet who cares about the 4th of July will care to hear about the fireworks.
To add to the excitement, on tonight's newscasts, they actually -- I shit you not -- had reporters live at the scene (by The Water Club) describe the fireworks. "It was magical," "it was exciting," "a lot of oohs and aahs from the assembled crowd..." Sorry, but I don't care too much about the ooh's and aah's and I even less care about what some bobble-head cares to say about said ooh's and aah's. I know it's about patriotism and excitement and being in America, but the truth is if you're spending the day/night with the one you love, the fireworks aren't nearly as meaningful as the ones between you and your other half. So pfffffffffffft :-D
In other news...aside from my writing project, which has continued to cook along at a steady pace, part of the reason for my absence herein had been a party I co-hosted with a friend on June 23rd here in NYC. We ended up getting everything just about perfect, aside from a little "what the hell is she doing here"-esque drama, and approximately 166 people, plus my co-host and I, had a bitchin' time. Until our next party, which we estimate to be called for October 20th, this was the topper. Then again, we've been saying that over the last three parties, so I'm hopeful this upcoming one continues the trend of steady improvement and -- to borrow from Lexus -- our relentless pursuit of perfection (and cleavage). We're getting there ;-)
Beyond that, Kaia's been in town since the 21st and all, as per usual, is well. We've been stuck in, stuck out, running around and hanging out, and in almost every situation our puzzle pieces match perfectly. Between spending time watching movies and the variety of items on my DVR, heading downtown to restaurants for drinks and eats, and just bouncing around the City, it's all good. The only caveat is that her family still resides in the Bay Area (ie San Fran) and she misses them while she's here, but again, like my co-host's and my party planning, every day gets better and it's just a matter of time before (unlike our party planning) we go pro.
Speaking of TV et al, since I last visited these parts my old venerable, 150-pound 27" Mitsubishi shit the bed, so I finagled me one o' them-thar new HD TV's, this one of the 32" Sharp Aquos widescreen variety. I'm not a big TV person -- or at least I wasn't prior to this bad boy's arrival -- but I'm seeing things on the screen I never did before. I think the most significant improvement in terms of quality can be seen when watching sports. Part of the reason I love visiting Yankee Stadium (besides the Yankees consistently winning, o' course) is stepping out from the tunnel to see the grass -- verdent, lush and the truest green I've ever seen -- and now, all I need to see that is to fire up the TV. Obviously going to the game will never quite be replaced, but the truth is that the HD reproduction of Yankee games is so superb that it's hard to justify spending $200 to go to the game when the broadcasts are so incredibly immaculate.
Of course, watching movies in 1080i through this doesn't hurt; but until the high definition format war (between Blu-Ray and HDDVD) is over, I don't need to see the pores in Denzel Washington's face whilst watching Crimson Tide. The quality is more than sufficient, and since I've been watching these things via a small, analog TV for so long, I will appreciate the next jump (ie to the winner of the format war) when/if I make it. Meanwhile, I'm watching DVD's I've owned for years and seeing more detail and jump than I ever did, so I'm still jazzed despite the fact it's been here about as long as has Kaia. Go figger.
Anyhoo...there's much more about which I could expound, but it's late, my lady's already sleeping and I'm ready for a few nice days without work.
I'll be back much sooner next time -- and despite saying that, this time I do indeed mean it -- so in the interim, happy post 4th of July. Hope you all enjoy(ed) the off day(s) and make good use of good summer weather and keep yourselves smiling for as long as possible :-D
Ciao fer now...
My bad.
First and foremost, happy belated-ish 4th of July. Kaia and I chilled out at home rather than go to a friend's. She wasn't feeling well and I was shot, so we chilled out and watched "An American Haunting" on Showtime -- how patriotic of us, natch -- before we caught the tail end of the bitchin' fireworks display over the East River. For those of you missed it, here's a net-based sample.
For those of you who did see the fireworks, I'm very happy for you and your family and your friends and all the people you'll yap about the fireworks about over the next 36 hours, which is approximately 15% longer than any human on this planet who cares about the 4th of July will care to hear about the fireworks.
To add to the excitement, on tonight's newscasts, they actually -- I shit you not -- had reporters live at the scene (by The Water Club) describe the fireworks. "It was magical," "it was exciting," "a lot of oohs and aahs from the assembled crowd..." Sorry, but I don't care too much about the ooh's and aah's and I even less care about what some bobble-head cares to say about said ooh's and aah's. I know it's about patriotism and excitement and being in America, but the truth is if you're spending the day/night with the one you love, the fireworks aren't nearly as meaningful as the ones between you and your other half. So pfffffffffffft :-D
In other news...aside from my writing project, which has continued to cook along at a steady pace, part of the reason for my absence herein had been a party I co-hosted with a friend on June 23rd here in NYC. We ended up getting everything just about perfect, aside from a little "what the hell is she doing here"-esque drama, and approximately 166 people, plus my co-host and I, had a bitchin' time. Until our next party, which we estimate to be called for October 20th, this was the topper. Then again, we've been saying that over the last three parties, so I'm hopeful this upcoming one continues the trend of steady improvement and -- to borrow from Lexus -- our relentless pursuit of perfection (and cleavage). We're getting there ;-)
Beyond that, Kaia's been in town since the 21st and all, as per usual, is well. We've been stuck in, stuck out, running around and hanging out, and in almost every situation our puzzle pieces match perfectly. Between spending time watching movies and the variety of items on my DVR, heading downtown to restaurants for drinks and eats, and just bouncing around the City, it's all good. The only caveat is that her family still resides in the Bay Area (ie San Fran) and she misses them while she's here, but again, like my co-host's and my party planning, every day gets better and it's just a matter of time before (unlike our party planning) we go pro.
Speaking of TV et al, since I last visited these parts my old venerable, 150-pound 27" Mitsubishi shit the bed, so I finagled me one o' them-thar new HD TV's, this one of the 32" Sharp Aquos widescreen variety. I'm not a big TV person -- or at least I wasn't prior to this bad boy's arrival -- but I'm seeing things on the screen I never did before. I think the most significant improvement in terms of quality can be seen when watching sports. Part of the reason I love visiting Yankee Stadium (besides the Yankees consistently winning, o' course) is stepping out from the tunnel to see the grass -- verdent, lush and the truest green I've ever seen -- and now, all I need to see that is to fire up the TV. Obviously going to the game will never quite be replaced, but the truth is that the HD reproduction of Yankee games is so superb that it's hard to justify spending $200 to go to the game when the broadcasts are so incredibly immaculate.
Of course, watching movies in 1080i through this doesn't hurt; but until the high definition format war (between Blu-Ray and HDDVD) is over, I don't need to see the pores in Denzel Washington's face whilst watching Crimson Tide. The quality is more than sufficient, and since I've been watching these things via a small, analog TV for so long, I will appreciate the next jump (ie to the winner of the format war) when/if I make it. Meanwhile, I'm watching DVD's I've owned for years and seeing more detail and jump than I ever did, so I'm still jazzed despite the fact it's been here about as long as has Kaia. Go figger.
Anyhoo...there's much more about which I could expound, but it's late, my lady's already sleeping and I'm ready for a few nice days without work.
I'll be back much sooner next time -- and despite saying that, this time I do indeed mean it -- so in the interim, happy post 4th of July. Hope you all enjoy(ed) the off day(s) and make good use of good summer weather and keep yourselves smiling for as long as possible :-D
Ciao fer now...
Sunday, June 10, 2007
Into the Sunset
Now that all the hype surrounding the Sopranos finale is in the past tense, as is the final episode itself, I have a few reactions. First, however, if you need a warning that this piece contains spoilers, what you really need is some self-examination for not watching it live like the rest of the country.
I went out with a few friends about three weeks ago, on a cold Friday night, and we were all surmising what might comprise the final few episodes. My friend Dave opined that the series would end with a flash-bang and fireworks that would leave us all with muted, stifled "wows." The penultimate episode, in which Bobby and Silvio are shot, the former being killed and the latter surviving -- barely -- it occurred to me that this series would not necessarily end with fireworks, but it wouldn't end with a whimper, either. I advised my friend Dave that if I was doing the writing, the final scene would, ostensibly, wrap up with the four -- Tony Sr., Carmela, Meadow and AJ -- sitting and talking (not arguing, bitching or insulting one another) and the camera would pan out, through a window, and fade to black. Granted, the finale was a bit different -- Meadow was making her way through the door when the blackout occurred -- but overall it wasn't far from what I envisioned as the end to a great story.
There were and remain a lot of loose ends -- from the Russian who gets loose in the woods with Chris and Paulie chasing him (from a few seasons ago) to what happens with Silvio; from what about Junior's money to who, if not Carlo, is informing on the family; will Tony be indicted, and if so, will he eventually go to prison?
The point of the story is that none of these questions really matter, nor do their answers. The whole point of the story was about a guy -- Tony Soprano -- who is the head of a family of four, and who happens to also be the mob boss of New Jersey. So the actual ending -- the four of them sitting, together, as a family, at a table eating dinner is far from a shock to me. The quick, almost abrupt ending was weird -- and I think it was meant to be jarring and obvious in its zeal to wind up or down, depending on your perspective. David Chase obviously wanted to shake our tree, and when he zooms in on the key turning in the ignition after all the hits happen in the penultimate episode, it's clear that everyone watching firmly believed that car was blowing up.
So all the back and forth, the ramping up of tension with Meadow parking her car and running to get into the restaurant, led one to believe that she was in grave danger. And I applaud David Chase for playing with our emotions as he had for the past seven seasons (and the past ten years). Let's be clear -- the ending came too soon, and of course, the series could easily continue on into another year or more (or, more likely, a movie). But the whole point of what he was trying to say with this series, and, especially, the finale, was that the family -- both the Soprano family of four and the Sopranos of the mob, will continue. If Tony is indicted, someone will take his place until -- if -- he leaves prison. If he is killed/assassinated, the Family will continue, whether it's Paulie -- unlikely -- or someone younger and less jaded and thwarted by life. Phil's right-hand man will step up with Little Carmine, who has always worked well with and loved Tony, and they'll do great things. AJ's movie producing days will start -- and don't ignore the connection between Christopher's waffling, flaccid, dual personality and AJ's similarity in both his inability to cope with life and his eventual career being what Christopher was doing prior to his untimely death. Everything will wind up, and continue, even if we -- and David Chase's cameras -- are not there to witness it.
The whole point is that the mob is, has been and always will be run by men who want, simply, to make money. Some of them get angry -- like Phil, or even Tony -- but for the most part, they use their heads to guide their hearts. Sure, Phil was pissed that Tony beat the crap (and the teeth -- literally) out of one of his guys, but logically speaking, he had the right to do that. And it was the wrong move to go after Tony and his guys (Bobby & Silvio). So when the war got out of hand -- when people started losing money -- Phil's guy suggested (not in so many words) that they should back off and go back. Tony, after avenging the insult to his daughter two weeks ago, immediately agreed to go with Little Carmine to Phil's house to make peace. It was the right move, and people in this business -- this dirty, secret business -- either think and act properly and logically or they wind up dead, either by gunshot or getting their heads flattened with the front tire of a Ford Explorer, or, in Phil's case, both.
Was the ending abrupt, too short and unsatisfying? Absolutely. Was it brilliant? Absolutely.
I think part of his point was that life in the mob will always continue, and that people -- like Tony and his wife and his children -- all bear the burden of surviving and living in that life. Sure, they have lots of money and do basically whatever they want -- but at what price? To go to funerals, mourn people that were killed by their former friends, and to wonder whether Tony, or others like him, will go to a meeting one night and never come home? The whole point is this life will continue, and even though there is no beginning, no middle and no end, one has to wonder whether this type of life is one in which you'd like to participate, be a spectator or eradicate completely.
I'm simultaneously irritated that this show has run its course -- even though I acknowledge that it has. The thing is, when applying a finite thing like a television show to something like the Mafia, the key difference is that one, eventually, must reach its conclusion. That, above all else, is what Chase was saying in this somewhat anti-climactic ending. I do think it was wonderful direction, editing and puppet-mastering, ie the ramping up of the tension ie with Meadow, etc. You expected something, and what you got -- for better or worse -- was an ending that acknowledged and reminded us that it, first and foremost, was, is and always will be about the family, before The Family.
I went out with a few friends about three weeks ago, on a cold Friday night, and we were all surmising what might comprise the final few episodes. My friend Dave opined that the series would end with a flash-bang and fireworks that would leave us all with muted, stifled "wows." The penultimate episode, in which Bobby and Silvio are shot, the former being killed and the latter surviving -- barely -- it occurred to me that this series would not necessarily end with fireworks, but it wouldn't end with a whimper, either. I advised my friend Dave that if I was doing the writing, the final scene would, ostensibly, wrap up with the four -- Tony Sr., Carmela, Meadow and AJ -- sitting and talking (not arguing, bitching or insulting one another) and the camera would pan out, through a window, and fade to black. Granted, the finale was a bit different -- Meadow was making her way through the door when the blackout occurred -- but overall it wasn't far from what I envisioned as the end to a great story.
There were and remain a lot of loose ends -- from the Russian who gets loose in the woods with Chris and Paulie chasing him (from a few seasons ago) to what happens with Silvio; from what about Junior's money to who, if not Carlo, is informing on the family; will Tony be indicted, and if so, will he eventually go to prison?
The point of the story is that none of these questions really matter, nor do their answers. The whole point of the story was about a guy -- Tony Soprano -- who is the head of a family of four, and who happens to also be the mob boss of New Jersey. So the actual ending -- the four of them sitting, together, as a family, at a table eating dinner is far from a shock to me. The quick, almost abrupt ending was weird -- and I think it was meant to be jarring and obvious in its zeal to wind up or down, depending on your perspective. David Chase obviously wanted to shake our tree, and when he zooms in on the key turning in the ignition after all the hits happen in the penultimate episode, it's clear that everyone watching firmly believed that car was blowing up.
So all the back and forth, the ramping up of tension with Meadow parking her car and running to get into the restaurant, led one to believe that she was in grave danger. And I applaud David Chase for playing with our emotions as he had for the past seven seasons (and the past ten years). Let's be clear -- the ending came too soon, and of course, the series could easily continue on into another year or more (or, more likely, a movie). But the whole point of what he was trying to say with this series, and, especially, the finale, was that the family -- both the Soprano family of four and the Sopranos of the mob, will continue. If Tony is indicted, someone will take his place until -- if -- he leaves prison. If he is killed/assassinated, the Family will continue, whether it's Paulie -- unlikely -- or someone younger and less jaded and thwarted by life. Phil's right-hand man will step up with Little Carmine, who has always worked well with and loved Tony, and they'll do great things. AJ's movie producing days will start -- and don't ignore the connection between Christopher's waffling, flaccid, dual personality and AJ's similarity in both his inability to cope with life and his eventual career being what Christopher was doing prior to his untimely death. Everything will wind up, and continue, even if we -- and David Chase's cameras -- are not there to witness it.
The whole point is that the mob is, has been and always will be run by men who want, simply, to make money. Some of them get angry -- like Phil, or even Tony -- but for the most part, they use their heads to guide their hearts. Sure, Phil was pissed that Tony beat the crap (and the teeth -- literally) out of one of his guys, but logically speaking, he had the right to do that. And it was the wrong move to go after Tony and his guys (Bobby & Silvio). So when the war got out of hand -- when people started losing money -- Phil's guy suggested (not in so many words) that they should back off and go back. Tony, after avenging the insult to his daughter two weeks ago, immediately agreed to go with Little Carmine to Phil's house to make peace. It was the right move, and people in this business -- this dirty, secret business -- either think and act properly and logically or they wind up dead, either by gunshot or getting their heads flattened with the front tire of a Ford Explorer, or, in Phil's case, both.
Was the ending abrupt, too short and unsatisfying? Absolutely. Was it brilliant? Absolutely.
I think part of his point was that life in the mob will always continue, and that people -- like Tony and his wife and his children -- all bear the burden of surviving and living in that life. Sure, they have lots of money and do basically whatever they want -- but at what price? To go to funerals, mourn people that were killed by their former friends, and to wonder whether Tony, or others like him, will go to a meeting one night and never come home? The whole point is this life will continue, and even though there is no beginning, no middle and no end, one has to wonder whether this type of life is one in which you'd like to participate, be a spectator or eradicate completely.
I'm simultaneously irritated that this show has run its course -- even though I acknowledge that it has. The thing is, when applying a finite thing like a television show to something like the Mafia, the key difference is that one, eventually, must reach its conclusion. That, above all else, is what Chase was saying in this somewhat anti-climactic ending. I do think it was wonderful direction, editing and puppet-mastering, ie the ramping up of the tension ie with Meadow, etc. You expected something, and what you got -- for better or worse -- was an ending that acknowledged and reminded us that it, first and foremost, was, is and always will be about the family, before The Family.
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