Category Archives: Uncategorized

September 1, 2011 · 2:01 pm

WY SP, WY? Say it isn’t so….

As Philadelphia’s once undisputed FM radio king of the ratings, 94.1 WYSP, sets to close its doors, ending its nearly 40 year run in a now anachronistic era of terrestrial music radio, I feel it imperative to give the station its due.

Having come of age in the Philadelphia area during WYSP’s heyday, I have very fond memories of the station.

I suppose you could say I have always been an old soul regarding my musical preference. From a young age, I generally have preferred music dating from before my time with very few exceptions. Sure, I loved MJ, Madonna and The Police as much as most every other adolescent girl and boy of the 1980s did. In fact, I was a fan of most 80s music, which helped shape my generation, for better or for worse, and still love most songs from that decade to this day.

But the music that truly shaped my journey through puberty and that I must credit (along with my father and various camp counselors) for my vast musical knowledge to this day mostly dates from the 1960s and 1970s. From Aerosmith to ZZ Top and all things Motown, I couldn’t get enough. I was sure from a very young age that I had been born at least a decade too late.

This was before MP3s. This was even before CDs. Exchanging music was done through mix tapes and copies of albums. My first album collection was an incredible stack of 8-track tapes that included Billy Joel’s The Stranger, Steely Dan’s Aja, Simon and Garfunkle’s Bookends, Stevie Wonder’s Innervisions and Fleetwood Mac’s Rumors.

My father made brunch on many a Sunday as I grew up with the melodious tunes of Liverpool’s Fab Four echoing throughout our house. Breakfast with the Beatles, a Philadelphia staple since 1976, was an actual event, not just a radio show, in my household for most of my youth. My father’s vinyl collection was an impressive sampling of all the greatest artists of the 1950s through 1970s.

When 94.1 WYSP went to a “Classic Rock” format in 1981 (and WYSP invented “Classic Rock,” becoming the first station in the nation to adopt the format), it seemed to be catering to my personal musical preference. Except for the Motown, all of my favorite artists and songs were played on this station – and the best part was, I wouldn’t become sick of the same two or three tracks from each album that they would play over and over again for quite a few years.

Sure, WYSP expanded its playlist over the years, adding late 1980s and even 1990s music to its repertoire (and making me and my generation feel old in the process, as music from our youth became “classic”), but the lions’ share and most significant and beloved music the station had to offer dated from the preceding decades, tacitly acknowledging that all music created after those decades, even if attaining classic rock status, owed everything to the pioneers of the genre, the golden age of rock, the 1960s and 1970s.

Furthermore, in 1986, WYSP became the first station on which Howard Stern syndicated his incredible and controversial morning show and ratings monster. 94.1 became a force to reckon with on the airwaves, destroying its local rival 93.3 WMMR. I loved Howard Stern and listened and laughed as I got ready for school (and later drove to school) each morning. And when school let out, I listened to WYSP’s music on the way home.

But for me, what I will always remember about WYSP is how it basically built my vast music collection overnight.

For many years, the station featured Classic Rock’s Top 500 Countdown over Labor Day Weekend. Listeners would help determine the list and rankings by voting for their favorite songs of all time. WYSP hosts would ask listeners to mail in a postcard ranking their top 3 songs of all time, from which various station employees would cull and order the ultimate top 500. In 1991, my senior year of high school, I mailed three such postcards to the station.

One ranked the following 3 songs: 1) Stairway to Heaven, Led Zeppelin; 2) Deacon Blues, Steely Dan; 3) Comfortably Numb, Pink Floyd

The second listed these songs: 1) Sugar Magnolia, Grateful Dead; 2) A Day In The Life, The Beatles; 3) Scenes From an Italian Restaurant, Billy Joel

And the third listed these songs: 1) Funeral for a Friend, Elton John; 2) After the Goldrush, Neil Young; 3) Like a Rolling Stone, Bob Dylan

I left for college that August, never getting to hear the countdown that year.

Tuesday after Labor Day I got a message in my dorm room from my father. I returned his call and he asked me if I was sitting down. I lied and said yes. He then asked if I happened to have sent any postcards to any radio stations before I left for school.

I wracked my brain, and told him I had. “Why?” I asked.

“You are amazing,” he informed me. “Remi [your cousin] called me first. She was pretty sure she heard your name announced on WYSP as the winner of their Labor Day 500 contest.”

My heart was in my throat and I got a little dizzy from excitement. It was already hot in my non-air conditioned dorm in early September North Carolina. I was sweating.

“Ok,” I managed to reply, hoping to urge my father to get to the point.

“Well they called the house and left a message today.  I called them back and sure enough, your postcard was drawn. You won.”

“Did they say what I won?” I asked, fairly sure I already knew the answer.

“Yup. Every song on the countdown, on compact disc, and a Yamaha rack system with five CD-changer and six speakers. Pretty serious prize. Just wanted to let you know the goings on back home and keep you up to date. I will let you know when and how they want you to claim the prize.”

“Me? Dad, I am in college 500 miles away. Can’t you pick it up? I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Well I don’t know.  Your name was on the card. If they let me claim the prize, I will be happy to. Otherwise, maybe you can get it over Thanksgiving.”

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is right. Congratulations. This should make the transition to college a little better, no?”

“I am speechless. Thanks dad. I love you. Say hi to Mom and Mel.”

“Will do.”

My CD collection grew by 341 discs. The sponsoring music store even allowed me to exchange my doubles for anything in their store, even exchange. The new stereo was too big and expensive for the college experience, and thus did not make the trek to Durham. Sure, some of the songs overlapped on compilation and greatest hits albums. I even got a couple box sets. But the vast majority of songs came on unique, original albums with colorful and playful cover artwork.

I received every Beatles and Rolling Stones album ever released, as they were the two bands with the most songs on the top 500 list.

I still remember sampling the goods with my buddy Marc as he drove us to and from school a few times a year. The rest were unveiled at my own pace and became a significant part of the soundtrack of my collegiate years. Deep tracks on many of the discs yielded musical gems never played on stations like WYSP. I devoured them eagerly.

So thank you WYSP for playing the soundtrack of my formative years, and for providing that playlist to me in the form of an incredible prize, which allowed me to continue to revel in some of the best music ever created for years to come. I will always remember you as my favorite terrestrial radio station of all time and the left-most button (preset number 1) of every car I drove in the Philadelphia area.

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August 20, 2011 · 1:53 pm

Generation Why?

Here is a source of frustration new to the digital age. My grandparents never dealt with a scenario like this – but then again, I never walked to and home from school each day, uphill both ways and in the snow:

Most people who work in an office setting have a company computer network they must log into and out of each day. So when we corporate cogs start work, we create a password. Every few months, our trusty system (or office IT professional) prompts us to create a new password for security reasons. Some networks force users to have a rotation of three, and even four different passwords because when prompted to create a new password, one parameter often states “please choose a new unique password, distinct from the password you used both most recently and during the period before that” (or some reasonable facsimile).

We sleepwalk into work on anymorning M-F, and we power up our workstations. A familiar prompt greets us, and those login fields beckon. Pure reflex takes over as we hunt and peck our password symbols into the correct field. Alas, we get a red error message. Maybe we misclicked an adjacent character on the keyboard. Perhaps CAPS LOCK was enabled, screwing up the entire process. Or, on occasion, we key in a password in our rotation that is not currently correct, forgetting that it recently changed.

This mental lapse is akin to writing the wrong date, on checks and homework assignments, for instance, for an indeterminate but prolonged period after New Years each year.

So we silently mutter a four letter word or two in our office/cubicle/hotel room/living room (depending on where we are working from this lovely morning). And we try again. This time, we make sure CAPS LOCK is off, and we wrack our brains to make sure we know which password we are currently using. We enter the characters and hit enter. Generally, we hit pay dirt and are able to exhale.

 

BUT…on rare occasion, we get an error message again.  This time, the red seems to leak into our already groggy and bloodshot eyes and our ringing ears. We audibly shout another four letter word or three. And we mentally prepare ourselves for the battle to come.  For we know, through trial and error, that our final attempt is upon us.  Fuck this up one more time and we are doomed to a visit from an IT tech or our office administrator, who would have to unlock our workstation.

Now we scour our desk drawers to find the little piece of paper we have our current password written – if we are even that organized.  Maybe it is in our phone. Hopefully it is somewhere. Cause if not, then we must endure every movie scene involving a bomb dismantling scene, where a ticking clock is speeding toward zero point zero zero in reverse and the protagonist‘s brow is teeming with beads of sweat, veins popping out of his or her forehead as he or she debates whether to cut the blue wire or the red wire.

Our hands become clammy. We put on our game-face and start to type, taking every precaution to only hit one key at a time, and in the correct order. We know we aren’t going to blow up the entire office with a mistake, but the frustration we feel this early in the morning, and our overarching desire not to have to waste more time this morning having to explain what happened and then waiting to have our computer unlocked throws some serious pressure onto our shoulders nonetheless.

As we key in the final character, we count the little dots in the password field. Hopefully there are exactly as many dots as characters in our password.  Hopefully we typed the correct password – our current password. Hopefully this never happens again.

While we hit enter, thoughts run through our heads – almost universally we imagine the scene in Office Space where Michael Bolton, Samir and Peter take a baseball bat, a la Casino, to their office fax machine. We visualize this scene even if, for some ridiculous reason, we live under a rock and have never seen Office Space.

We can barely watch the screen. Part of us wants to turn away. Another part forces us to endure the carnage of the train wreck that might unfold. And those next split seconds dictate our day to come.

If we have success and log on, we chalk up the frustration we just experienced as a lack of sleep, but are sufficiently psyched to have weathered the storm and come out on top. We will channel the momentum our ridiculous victory creates, and plow through our day.

However, if we fail on this all-important third attempt, and start our day off with what can only be described as a steaming pile of office shit, slathered onto the top of our desk and left to fester in our minds for hours to come, we know our day really couldn’t have started with any less promise.  It throws our whole morning off, invites unwanted negative energy into our heads and basically ensures we will be fighting an uphill battle to restore sanity and serenity into our day. If it is a Monday, this might border on the impossible.

Oh well. At least I can say this with a decent amount of certainty. My computer allows me to do more in one day at work than my grandparents were able to accomplish in weeks. And check Facebook, and read the news, and update my fantasy football lineups and buy a large assortment of products. So take that octogenarians.

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July 10, 2011 · 4:04 pm

Reflections on a 20th High School Reunion

Then as it was, then again it will be
An’ though the course may change sometimes
Rivers always reach the sea
Blind stars of fortune, each have several rays
On the wings of maybe, down in birds of prey
Kind of makes me feel sometimes, didn’t have to grow
But as the eagle leaves the nest, it’s got so far to go

Changes fill my time, baby, that’s alright with me
In the midst I think of you, and how it used to be

-Led Zeppelin

LZ’s lyrics may or may not resonate with you, but they surely capture images and sentiments of remembering days past quite well. And to think, Robert Plant’s words described a mere ten year void.

But twenty years?  Our first reunion where the celebrants have lived more years after high school graduation than before it. And we celebrate this?  Or do we simply congregate to commiserate the fact that we all have aged precisely the same amount since sharing common classrooms, teachers, extracurricular activities and athletic fields for four years?

For most of us, it was nice to see our friends…the ones we still have today as well as those we once proudly roamed the halls with twenty years ago.  Some of us even have friends from high school that we are closer with today than back when acne and SATs were among our biggest fears.

It was also nice to see those we weren’t so friendly with back then.  Twenty years of maturity and experience certainly dulls whatever insecurities and emotional scars may remain from some people’s nightmare that was adolescence. So seeing the inevitable “Breakfast Club” of characters from our past became more intriguing than painful after two decades (and the free-flowing drinks certainly helped too).

Bottom line: I was glad I went.

Never again will I have the opportunity to attend my 20th High School Reunion.

Sure, I am lucky enough to still have a sizable group of friends from high school whom I see as frequently as our schedules, family commitments and geographical constraints allow.  But even with these friends that I hold nearest and dearest, it will never be like it was in high school, when I saw them all every weekday and most weekends for four years.

High School was a time and place for many important firsts in life (at least for the majority of us):

The first time we had a “security guard” on campus (thanks Charlie)

The first time we participated in a form of parliamentary government and elected our classmates (or they elected us) to office

The first time we had multiple principals and were unclear as to what roles they played

The first time we “borrowed” our parents’ (or sibling’s) car (without a license)

The first time we stupidly smoked a cigarette

The first time we read Shakespeare and Dickens

The first time we had a school wide pep rally

The first time we experienced the trauma of one of our classmates passing away

The first time we went to a rock or pop concert with our friends and no parents

The first time we got to third base with a member of the opposite sex

The first time we earned a varsity letter

The first time we studied for and took the SATs

The second time we studied for and took the SATs

The first time we went to a party where everyone was drinking

The first time the cops busted a party we attended

The first time we met with a guidance counselor

The first time we were told, based on test scores, we were best suited for a career in a field we had no interest in pursuing

The first time we applied for college

The first time we were told to apply to a safety school just in case by a man with one foot in the grave

The first time we threw a party when our parents were out of town

The first time we studied Physics, Calculus, Latin and “Typing”

The first time we drank too much and vomited

The first time we learned to drive and got our license

The first time we drove ourselves (and others) to school

The first time we tried marijuana

The first time we were devastated by a break-up

The first time we had any say as to the classes we took

The first time we had responsibilities other than homework or chores

The first time we (boys) spent serious money on a girl

The first time we researched and wrote a paper longer than 10 pages

The first time we attended a prom

The first time we grew facial hair (intentionally or unintentionally)

The first time we didn’t take art or music – unless we chose to

The first time we stood up for or even took action for a cause we believed in

The first time we had a serious relationship with a member of the opposite sex

The first time we got into a car accident

The first time we knew someone or even had a friend who was openly homosexual

The first time we could go outside when walking from class to class

The first time we got laid

and…

The first time we were accepted (and/or rejected) by a college or university

And everyone who attended (or eschewed) our 20th reunion played a pivotal or peripheral role in all of the above. They were there, finding their own way in the world, just like us. They were our support system, our confidantes, our best friends, our sworn enemies, our teammates, our co-stars, our band mates, our fellow staffers, our secret crushes, our exes, our competition, our heroes, our nightmares, our misunderstood, our former friends, our future friends, our academic equals, superiors and inferiors, our class clowns, our drug dealers, our designated drivers, our tutors, our class officers, our role models, our teachers’ pets, our most and least likely to succeed, our future captains of industry, our criminals, our bullies, our bullied, our outcasts, our boyfriends, our girlfriends, our prudes, our sluts, our most popular and least popular, our lunch buddies, our homeroom friends, our prom dates and our science lab partners.

It was great to see how all the aforementioned people look 20 years later. It was great to catch up.  It was great to reminisce, and to compare notes.  There were some surprises, and a few people I honestly never knew were in my high school class. I wondered where some of the no-shows were and what they were doing with their lives. I asked a few attendees if they still keep in touch with some of those who didn’t make it. I witnessed some flirting, and saw the gravitational pull of some high school cliques attempting to reemerge.

I wore a nametag with my senior yearbook picture on it.

I brought my wife, and introduced her to everyone.

I met others’ spouses and significant others.

I shared some laugh-out-loud moments and traded contact info with a select few.  There were some promises to keep in touch and some invitations to “call when you’re in town.”

I heard rumors of some shady shit going down in the parking lot.

I wished some of my favorite and most impactful teachers were there, but understand that they cannot be expected to attend multiple reunions a year for their entire lives.

And every group has the douche bag friend who is “too cool for school (reunions).”  You know the type: Couldn’t be bothered with such a “ridiculous event,” even though they still lived in the area and had no more important things going on that night. If you don’t know what I am talking about, it was probably you.

But overall, the event was well-attended and fun.

Thanks to those who organized it.

See you all in five, or ten, or thirty, Upper Dublin class of 1991 alumni.

Peace.

IDROS

 

 

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June 28, 2011 · 3:57 pm

I’ll be back…

Too soon? I apologize if I offend any Maria sympathizers out there in my limited following, but I can’t help but immediately think of Ah-nold clad in leather and toting a gun whenever those three words come to mind.

Your fearless author will be off mooning his honey for a spell, but stay tuned.  Time away should refresh and revitalize, and my highly-anticipated return should serve to increase your enjoyment of my future posts – think of it like abstaining from sex for a little while (be it intentionally or, more likely, due to external forces outside of your control)…when you finally get back in the saddle, so to speak…well, you know where this is going.

Best,

IDROS

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June 24, 2011 · 3:51 pm

Five for Fixing, Part Deux…..

1) Every gas station should be required to install and maintain Purell (or at least generic) hand sanitizer stations at their self-service pumps.  It is disgusting enough that we have to get gasoline residue and grime all over our hands every time we fill up AND pay ridiculously high prices for gas on top of that.  But those pump handles and the keypad buttons (both credit card and gas grade selection buttons) on the dispenser are touched every day by god-knows-who and are the most repulsive, nauseating things the average person is required to touch on a regular basis.  (Brief aside:  Writing that sentence reminded me of the scene in Trading Places where Penelope bails Winthorpe out of Jail, and on the jailhouse steps the following exchange takes place – and picture Penelope’s whiney, superior, upper-crust voice:

P:  Louis, you’re making a scene.

L: The good news is I’m innocent. I’ve never done anything resembling this.

P: Louis, you look awful.  I’m so ashamed.  Those clothes and those shoes and…you’ve been fighting….and you smell.

L: I smell?

P: Penelope, do you realize where I’ve been since yesterday?

Well that classic line where Penelope ridicules Louis’ wardrobe, bruised face and putrid stench and the amazingly horrified face she makes as she unleashed those lines on him illustrates exactly how anyone should feel when touching a gas pump at the average filling station.

I know, we should all take responsibility for our own hygiene and carry hand sanitizer in our cars and in our purses/brief cases.  And I don’t disagree.  But gas stations are cash cows. In the 1950s and 1960s they were well run establishments that prided themselves on service – and somehow, over time, our expectations of what a gas stations should be and the levels of cleanliness and sanitation that we are willing to accept has taken a nosedive.  Most of us spend more money at gas stations in a week than anywhere else but the grocery store.  And they all gauge us at the pump. It is an outrage…and we just bend over and let it happen. The least they can do is offer an opportunity for us to regain our sense of humanity after suffering the awful and often humiliating and raunchy experience of filling our gas tanks. And don’t get me started on their lavatories, god forbid you ever have an emergency on the highway.

 

2) Disclaimer: I realize homelessness is a worldwide epidemic, and that if there is really something to be fixed here, it is that no human being should have to be without shelter and sleep in the freezing cold, pouring rain and sweltering heat that so many are forced to endure each and every day. In writing a blog intended to entertain, at least on some level, it is sometimes difficult to maintain a modicum of reality, instead opting for a more surreal and humorous approach to a situation. So I ask my reader(s), please understand that this answer should read “to eliminate homelessness in the world.” That said, and as long as homelessness continues to exist, please also take your humble author’s recommendation below with the proper side order of sodium:

Homeless people should offer a receipt with a distinct logo or signature when you give them money so that you don’t have to feel guilty the next time that same exact homeless man or woman approaches your car at an exit ramp or as you walk by them on the street and do not give them anything.  There are certain routes that all of us take regularly, be it our walk to and from work or the subway, or our drive to and from work, etc.  If there are homeless people that have staked out a location on this route, you are bound to see them a few times a week, if not every day.  This receipt plan (or a reasonable facsimile) would ensure that you get the credit you deserve when making a selfless gesture (important to note: this assumes you actually do give money occasionally), and also allows you to drive/walk by the less fortunate at other times armed with validation that you care, and guilt free that you are not feeding their drug and alcohol habit on this particular day.

3) I think if you are homosexual and live in a state that does not have equal laws for homosexuals, including marriage laws, you should not be required to pay state taxes in that state.   I understand this would necessitate increased state spending in ensuring certain constituents do not take advantage of this law, but who cares?  If something is unfair for certain people, it should become a burden to everyone…raising taxes statewide may just provide the kick in the ass a majority would need to vote for change.

4) The rule in the NBA that allows a team to call a timeout and then advance the ball to their offensive end of the court is ridiculous and needs to be eliminated.  Imagine if you could do this in any other sport.  Call a timeout in football and advance the ball across midfield?  How about in golf?  Call a timeout and take a free drop on the apron of the green?  In hockey, call a timeout and get an offensive zone faceoff?  And what about in baseball?  Not even sure how you could do this, but imagine if you had an 0-2 count as a batter, and then could call a timeout and reset the count to 0-0.  That would pretty much be equivalent to the absurdity that takes place down the stretch in an NBA game.  And the most ludicrous wrinkle about this “rule” is that the rule does not exist in any other basketball league in America, from little league, to junior high, to high school to the NCAAs.  Basketball players in all other competitive leagues are required to bring the ball the full length of the court, each and every time down the floor, even after a time out.  So why are NBA athletes exempt?  Obviously this rule was myopically instituted to make the endings of games more competitive and exciting for the fan.  But the end of NBA games, 9 out of 10 times, are anything but exciting.  They feature seemingly endless clock stoppages due to intentional fouls and a limitless cache of timeouts.  The final two minutes of a closely contested NBA game can take 20-30 minutes in actual elapsed time.  Even lopsided games, in large part due to this timeout ball advancement rule, can take much longer to end than they should.  Bottom line, if a team dominates a game for 46 minutes, there shouldn’t be a loophole rule akin to something you would find in a game of Monopoly (you know,” go directly to jail,” or “pass go and collect $200”) that allows the trailing team to have a better chance to get back into the game.  Especially considering that rule doesn’t exist in NCAA basketball, which offers some of the most exciting, down-to-the-wire games every year in its conference and NCAA tournaments.

 

5) Stable, sober, presumably loving married couples are often unable to reproduce (due to age, infertility, genetic issues, etc.) while abusive, substance-abuse-riddled and poverty-stricken, unwed couples and one-night flings from broken homes reproduce like insects.  There is even a farcical youth movement sweeping our nation, which is glamorized, as most ridiculous fads tend to be, on MTV.  I am sure there are scads of couples and single women in their late 30s and 40s cursing as commercials for 16 and Pregnant taunt them from their television screens.  I do not have all the answers, but it would be great for everyone in the world if this was corrected.  Unfortunately, of the five items discussed here, this may be the most difficult problem to repair.

 

 

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June 23, 2011 · 3:48 pm

If you try sometimes….You realize a rock singer-songwriter from Indiana is a genius…

Nobody likes to come up empty handed. The best of us shoot for the stars, but not all of us are armed with this:

And so some of us settle, or at least grasp at the lower hanging fruit.

Countless songs have been written over the years about our hopes and dreams, our true desires, and our basic necessities for survival.

This entry focuses on two primary categories – The best songs ever written about what we “want” and the best songs ever written about what we “need.”

The rules are simple:  The word “want” (or an acceptable variation) or “need” must be in the title of the song (sorry to the likes of “Box of Rain,” “Somebody,” “Where the Streets Have no Name,” “Just a Friend,” “Dead or Alive,” and “Young Lust” – all great songs with lyrics featuring our buzz words, but alas, rules is rules).  Also, the song must be great – at least in your humble author’s opinion – sorry if my taste in music offends you.

We will begin with the best songs with “want” in their titles – these songs greatly outnumber those with “need,” well, because we all desire more in life than we actually require to get by.  So without further delay, please find the top 25 songs in recent memory that focus on our wants, counting down to the best from number 25:

25)   I Want to Break Free – Queen

24) Tie: All She Wants to Do Is Dance – Don Henley /

What Do You Want From Me – Pink Floyd

23)   I Want It That Way – Backstreet Boys

22)   All I Want For Christmas – Mariah Carey

21)   Tie: Any Way You Want It – Journey /

I Don’t Want to Miss a Thing – Aerosmith

20)   If You Want Me to Stay – Sly and the Family Stone

19)   Baby I’m-A Want You – Bread

18)   I Wanna Rock – Twisted Sister

17)   Wanna Play That Game – Hall and Oats

16)   I Want Candy – The Strangeloves

15)   All I Want Is You – U2

14)   I Want to Hold Your Hand – The Beatles

13)   You’re the One that I Want – Grease Soundtrack

12)   I Want You Back – Jackson Five

11)   I Want to Know What Love Is – Foreigner

10)   I Want You to Want Me – Cheap Trick

09)   If You Want to Sing Out – Cat Stevens

08)   Wanna Be Startin’ Somethin’ – Michael Jackson

07)   I Want a New Drug – Huey Lewis and the News

06)   I Want Your Sex – George Michael

05)   Girls Just Want To Have Fun – Cindy Lauper

04)   I Wanna Love You – Bob Marley

03)   Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want – The Smiths

02)   I Want You – Bob Dylan

…And the greatest song of all in this category, the one that inspired this entry in the first place and the perfect segue into the next section….

01)   You Can’t Always Get What You Want – The Rolling Stones

As previously mentioned, based on the slim pickins of song titles that feature them, our needs are evidently not nearly as prolific as our wants.  Or at least they aren’t as interesting for the creative minds of lyricists and song writers.  I had a great deal of trouble finding enough gems to balance our lists, and so I did the best I could creating a smaller (but no less impressive) list of songs about what we need in life.  Below are the top fifteen, starting with number 15:

15)   I Need Somebody To Lean On – Elvis Presley

14)   I Need A Doctor – Eminem Featuring Dr. Dre

13)   Baby I Need Your Loving – The Four Tops

12)   I Need You – America

11)   All I Need – Jack Wagner

10)   You’re All I Need to Get By – Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell

09)   Tie: I Need A Hero – Bonnie Tyler /

Need You Now – Lady Antebellum

08)   Love’s In Need of Love Today – Stevie Wonder

07)   I Need You Tonight – INXS

06)   I Need to Know – Tom Petty

05)   I Need Love – LL Cool J

04)   I Need A Miracle – Grateful Dead

03)   A Man Needs A Maid – Neil Young

02)   All You Need Is Love – The Beatles

01)   I Need a Lover (That Won’t Drive Me Crazy) – John Cougar Mellencamp

You might find you got what you needed from today’s ramblings.  Or maybe not so much.  Either way, I am sure you are fuming over some of your author’s selections and rankings. Still, if you have any opinions, feel free to voice them below.

Til next time,

IDROSA

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June 21, 2011 · 6:29 pm

Ben & Jerry’s Presents: Ron Swanson’s All of the Bacon & Eggs You Have

This was too good not to repost:

Ben & Jerry’s Presents: Ron Swanson’s All of the Bacon & Eggs You Have

You may have thought you heard me say I wanted a lot of bacon and eggs, but what I said was: Give me all the bacon and eggs you have.

(via panicbasket)

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June 20, 2011 · 6:23 pm

Yeah…I went there – An open letter to David Tyree

Sure, I admit that to some, we are witnessing a time period that may seem a little strange.  A black man is president, a white man is MVP of the NBA Finals and a white RUNNING BACK graces the cover of Madden Football.  But those facts, odd and extraordinary as they may be, do not give anyone the right to assume that our society now runs entirely counter to all accepted norms and common decency; that the expectations of civility, shared experience and solidarity with those who have suffered in kind should all be tossed out the window; and, for the millionth time in the past few years, just because somebody puts a microphone in front of somebody’s lips doesn’t obligate said person to open their mouth – even and especially if the microphone is possibly one last stepping-stone back into a once bright but short-lived spotlight.

For those of you who don’t know, here’s a brief overview of this entry’s antagonist:  David Tyree literally used his head in making one of the most dramatic, unlikely and memorable catches in recent Super-Bowl history, a catch that turned the tide in one of the NFL’s most shocking upsets of all time as the New York Giants defeated the heavily favored, undefeated New England Patriots.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unfortunately, Tyree failed to use his head in the past few days, instead opting to blather on about a delicate subject, arguing a point difficult enough to defend in and of itself, but as a member of a minority group, his stance remains utterly and embarrassingly hypocritical and, frankly, despicable.

If you don’t have the foggiest clue what David Tyree has said over the past week or so, please refer to the following hyperlinks: from ESPN here, and yesterday’s even more ridiculous follow-on from USA Today here.

Bottom line:  How dare you, David Tyree?

No matter what you may believe as it relates to another human being’s right to marry, based on religion, economic ramifications or “common sense” as Tyree calls it, you need to keep it to yourself, unless you are arguing the other side and trying to usher in long-overdue change to some archaic and indefensible marital laws.

But if you yourself are part of a minority group, a group that has only recently gained long-overdue changes in archaic and indefensible civil rights legislation itself, then HOW DARE YOU publicly question and dishonor another minority group’s effort to effect similar change.

As a black man, you should be ashamed of yourself.  Even if these comments were made entirely from a religious point of view – which you admitted they weren’t – you need to understand a few crucial points:

1)    The scripture you quote and rely on as your ultimate truth also heavily features slavery throughout;

2)    The general populace that supports and bolsters your logic are by and large the very people who once owned slaves themselves in our country, who don’t believe in evolution, and the same Red State Bible-thumpers who elected GWB not once but twice – a president who set the civil rights movement and African Americans in general back decades during his administration;

3)    But most importantly, even if you are so convinced that you are right regarding some religious objection to gay marriage that it hurts you inside, you still should keep your friggin’ mouth shut and disconnect your social media accounts because, according to you and the rest of the ignorant homophobes, God will cast final and eternal judgment.  You need not judge or act in any way, for a homosexual’s time on earth is minimal compared to an eternity post-damnation.

And god did not “orchestrate” that freak play so that one day, nearly four years later, you would have a podium to regain the spotlight that faded so quickly after you made that catch.  Your talent was marginal to begin with, and therefore luck was imperative for you to ever make a play of consequence. Without the talent to maintain a career in the NFL, you needed to focus on you, David Tyree. Not others. You. But looking in the mirror every day became unbearable, didn’t it.  Where did the attention go?  Why isn’t my mug on magazine covers anymore?  Why doesn’t anyone talk about me?  And so you needed to go find the attention again, didn’t you? And what better way to secure the limelight than to open fire on another minority group by weighing in on a polarizing argument.

And then you had the audacity to ask the bleeding heart Bible Belt nation to pray for you because you are being targeted on all sides – despite the fact that you opened yourself up for the backlash over and over again by daring rational humans to refute your ridiculous rhetoric.

But your unbelievably moronic arguments and rants didn’t limit themselves to just religious reasoning.  No way. You used political arguments too, didn’t you?  A choice jewel in your original rant was the following enlightened musing regarding the possibility of gay marriage becoming legal: “What I know will happen if this does come forth is this will be the beginning of our country sliding toward, it is a strong word, but anarchy. The moment we have, if you trace back even to other cultures, other countries, that will be the moment where our society in itself loses its grip with what’s right.”

These wise words, spilling from the lips of a black man, whose ancestors marched and protested and fought for their own liberties, and certainly for his right to earn millions of dollars in the NFL playing a game for a living.

But this is no game David Tyree.

Finally, religious and political reasoning be damned, you went for the trump card, didn’t you?  You argued your point on the grounds of “common sense.”  And it is in the twisted logic of this unreasoned argument that you truly incited me to write this open letter and air my grievances with you and all the rest of the ass clowns out there who continue to boggle my mind with what can’t be described any other way than as insight into the decline of Western civilization.

“This is what I do know, you can’t teach something that you don’t have,” Tyree said. “So two men will never be able to show a woman how to be a woman. And that’s just simple. That’s just for a lack of better terms, common sense.”

Oh My Fucking God!  I can’t believe a 30+ year old man and graduate of Syracuse University could say such a thing.  Frankly, I can’t believe a learning disabled 4 year old could say such a thing.  But you did, didn’t you, David Tyree?  You played the common sense card.

Fact:  According to the U.S. Census, from the perspective of children’s living arrangements, over 50 percent of African American children lived in mother-only households in 2004, again the highest of all racial groups.  Even today, more African American children are raised without a father or father figure than any other ethnicity in America.

So again, David Tyree, an African American yourself, HOW DARE YOU?!

Homosexual men have mothers and sisters, and we all know they have female friends. So while your concerns are noted, they are pointless.

You battled alcoholism and crack addiction throughout your adolescence.  In 2004 you were arrested for possession of marijuana with the intent to distribute.  And when you were released from prison you discovered your girlfriend was pregnant with your second child.  She presented you with an ultimatum, and you “found god” in an effort to turn your life around.  A noble act indeed – I fully support your decision.

But your newfound spirituality was YOUR ticket back to the path of the righteous.  It has nothing to do with anyone else. YOU made mistakes. YOU jeopardized your own life and the lives of those close to you. It is YOUR own actions that precipitated and necessitated a spiritual change. Why are you concerned with the actions of anyone else as long as said actions cause nobody any physical harm? What are you worried about? Are you homosexual yourself and simply expressing your disgust and confusion regarding your own feelings by lashing out?

Once upon a time, you used your head to make a great catch David Tyree. Luck was certainly involved, but there is no doubt you made the catch that changed the game.

Now please, I beg of you, and all those who vocally and publicly agree with you, use your head again and keep your mouth shut.

We would all prefer to remember you, David Tyree, as the man who made the spectacular catch to help the Giants win Super Bowl XLII, and not the man who used his fading celebrity to endorse a cause that is wrong on every possible level, and even more so by a man of your color.

Regards,

IDROS

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June 14, 2011 · 6:13 pm

Crimson, White and Indigo…….

Happy Flag Day Everyone.  Here are some of the greatest flags (and images of flags), IMO, of course:

Betsy Ross presenting her masterpiece to George, Thomas and Benjamin

Planting Old Glory on Iwo Jima

got some dust upon [his] shoes…”]

One Love for Jamaica’s flag, mon…especially this one (RIP RNM)

 

 

 

 

 

Hatikva – the beautiful Israeli flag, simple two-tone majesty, symbolizing strength against all odds.  The photos above seem to capture the tortured history of the people the flag represents, enduring and longing for peace.

Ah, the Stratego Flag, how thou distracted me from anything productive at times throughout my youth

At least the outdoor version of Capture the Flag allowed us to commune with nature while frittering away the hours

And then there are the Freak Flags, ushered in by the freewheeling, revolutionary hippies of the 1960s – Even Neil almost cut his once upon a time…

Not sure Betsy Ross had this in mind back in the day….but I’m also not sure she didn’t

The post-911 patriotism across the USA evoked Francis Scott Key’s mindset when he penned his opus – chilling to say the least

But for my money, there are few images more powerful than Old Glory being hoisted above all other flags to symbolize victory in the Olympic games, which is accompanied by our national anthem as the winning and losing athlete(s) stand at attention and marvel at the moment.  The above shot of the medal ceremony in Lake Placid, NY in 1980, after the USA Hockey team shocked the USSR (and the world), may be the single greatest awe-inspiring moment featuring the American flag to occur in my lifetime.

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June 13, 2011 · 6:05 pm

Five for Fixing, Part I…..

Every now and then I will offer a list of five policies, trends, inventions, phenomena or general ways of the world that require anything from a slight tweak to a major overhaul.  It will be my version of Peter Griffin’s “You Know What Really Grinds My Gears?” segment.  I will not rank them.  Some will be more serious than others.  For some I will offer my own recommendation for how to fix the problem, or at least how to begin the process.  For others, I will just shake my head and pray.  Feel free to comment, or add your own ideas to the discussion.

So here are my first five for fixing, in no particular order:

Driving in the left lane of a multi-lane road or highway needs to be policed.  For crying out loud, left-lane protocol needs to be required learning to gain a license to operate a vehicle in this country.  But more importantly, tickets need to be given to drivers that fail to adhere to it – and driver’s education courses should be required to be retaken if one receives a second citation for left-lane negligence.  The left lane of any road is for passing, and for making a left turn if necessary – period.  If there are three or more lanes, the policy still holds true, and any driver in the left-most lane that is not passing cars to their right (or gaining on them rapidly to imminently pass) must move over one lane to the right.  I know cops already need more money than they collect from speeding and other traffic violations, as is evidenced by the ridiculous parking ticket policies of most urban and even suburban communities, but imagine the increase of police revenues if this policy were to be enforced.   And it really needs to be.

The party system in American (and presumably global) politics needs to be eliminated.  I find it incredibly hypocritical when people criticize the BCS in college football but fail to recognize that it was basically created using the same philosophy that perpetuates Big Elephant and Donkey – our capitalist country (like the BCS) will continually screw the little guy, the average voter, the unaffiliated, and the voiceless in order to feed the big, well-oiled machine that pays its bills, and is willing to overlook corruption, cheating, graft, disparities, and the general undercurrent of “the rich get richer at the expense of the poor,” creating a situation where the only true winners are those well-heeled few with enough resources to influence, control and perpetuate the parties themselves.

I have no problem with capitalism, but I have a huge problem with a two-party system founded on archaic principles, backed by ridiculous extremists and so firmly entrenched in our political landscape that it is virtually impossible for a candidate who subscribes to intelligent policies and platforms inherent to both schools, or even ideas outside the scope of either school to gain the requisite backing and political foothold to win a meaningful American election.

In college football, the BCS system creates a scenario where teams that do not play for the “rich, powerful” BCS conferences that run the system similarly have the odds stacked firmly against them, and therefore, the 2008 Utah Utes, who convincingly dismantled the BCS darling Alabama Crimson Tide (who won the national title just one year later), not only were unfairly kept out of the BCS Championship game, but never really had a legitimate shot, all things being equal, of getting there in the first place.

Maybe a rich and powerful sports fanatic, like Mark Cuban, will one day dislodge the powers that be in college football and create a playoff system that includes all schools equally and fairly, but even so, I have far less faith that the same will ever be done to supplant the American Two-Party Political system.  But one can hope.

Our once-great nation has been in slow denouement ever since the Cold War ended.  We need a swift kick in the ass in many areas, including our banking and small business lending practices, social security and Medicare reform and redefining the role of our military; and some radical changes in many others, such as education, health care, tort reform and gay rights, to name a few.  These changes cannot and will not ever be diagrammed and effected unless the party lines are removed and our political machine joins together to work for the common good.  The current parties and their respective casts of heavyweights spend countless dollars and hours squabbling with one another, mudslinging and looking for the optimal opportunity to pin the latest scandal on their opponents in order to wrestle or maintain majority control of their respective branch of government, be it at the Federal, State or even Local level.  Red Tape grows thicker and longer, and momentum in either direction becomes harder and harder to slow, let alone reverse.

A place to start would be a universal elimination of parties in American Politics.  Then significant campaign reform, including the outlaw of negative campaign ads.  Platforms and issues should define our candidates and their campaigns.  Nothing else.

The sizes of cups and containers available to consumers for soda, French fries and popcorn at fast food restaurants, convenience stores and especially movie theaters need to be regulated.  The government has already begun to regulate the levels of saturated fat and healthy food options restaurants are required to utilize and offer its customers.  The next step is a logical one.  As the most obscenely obese nation in the world, there is no way a child should be able to walk into a movie theater to see Toy Story and buy a soft drink that is larger than a fire hydrant (and that is the small!)  Also, children should be limited to one drink – forget free refills unless used for juice or water.  This second part may be difficult to enforce, but our children live in a country where it is “normal” to glut oneself in one sitting with enough high fructose corn syrup and carcinogenic diet drinks to fill a bath tub.  We are all going to have to pay for the ramifications of this ridiculous and unhealthy phenomenon.  Make it stop.

The way airplanes are boarded needs an overhaul.  I understand first class pays extra, so they can board first if they want, but all planes must be designed so that the door is behind first class seating, so that any first class passengers boarding a plane early do not interfere with a new policy:  STRICT Rear-first boarding.  Passengers should be called by rows, beginning with the back three, then moving forward – there should never be people shimmying into their 5th row seats while 300 people wait for them to place all of the crap in the overhead compartments, and then tend to their four infant children who have taken to a game of tag while their overwhelmed parents are distracted by all the awful game of Tetris that is cramming a too-wide bag into a narrow slot above.

I have no problem with handicapped people and those with small children sitting up front, but they should wait to sit.  I am pretty sure the handicapped and small children do not need any more time than they will already have being cooped up in an airplane coach class seat.  The less time on a plane, the better for them, and all of us really.  And Southwest Air needs to change things too – Socialist airline rules aren’t the worst thing I ever heard of, but let the heavy lifting happen organically online prior to printing everyone’s boarding pass.  The winner of seat A1 gets 1st pick of seat, and so on, on the seating chart prior to printing out the boarding pass.  If you fail to choose your seat ahead of time, you will be seated last, after all those who did choose online are seated.  Then we wouldn’t run into the awful situation of every friggin’ aisle seat taken through the middle of the plane, then back filling the window seats through mid-plane, then aisle and window seats in the rear of the plane and finally the middle seats, starting in the front of the plane.  As incredibly inefficient as the boarding process is in general, it is even worse on Southwest.  Overall, airline boarding creates ridiculous amounts of wasted time, undue stress for everyone, including airline employees and generally makes humans look foolish.  Aren’t foresight and the ability to think and plan supposedly a few of the differentiating traits of mankind?  Every time I find myself involved in the boarding process of a commercial plane, I cannot believe the general disorganization, chaos and stress-filled bullshit that goes on.  I guarantee that a more-efficient boarding system outlined above combined with a first class door redesign will add hours of time back onto the lives of even infrequent travelers, and a great deal more to frequent flyers and airline employees.

DVR recordings that miss or cut-off the end or beginning of shows.  I know, I know.  The ad lobby controls the rules because they are the ones that drive programming budgets.  But fuck the ad lobby.  If people are DVRing their favorite shows and sporting events, they are doing so because of one or more of four primary reasons:

1)      They are busy or otherwise engaged and do not have time/are not able to watch television during the timeslot they are recording;

2)      The program is on at some ungodly hour and sleep is more important;

3)      There is another program or sporting event on simultaneously that they would prefer to watch; and/or,

4)      They are home, really want to watch the show ASAP, but do not want to be burdened by the stupid, repetitive and often insulting commercials that take up 1/3 of every television hour, so they take a shower, do a chore or two around the house, go to the gym, check their emails, grab a bite to eat, have some sex or do anything other than watch the show they are recording in order to generate enough lead time to fast forward through the commercials as they watch the show.

Any way you look at it, if someone is recording a show, they do not want to be burdened by the ads, unless maybe they recorded the Super Bowl.  So ad companies need to adapt.  They already cover every inch of every stadium and arena, including the name of said arena, with ad space – so sports are covered.  And product placement has become so commonplace that it is difficult to watch anything without seeing ten easily identifiable products in each scene.

I know we all can adjust our recordings to capture an extra minute or two before and after a time slot.  But why should WE have to do that?  It should be an auto-feature on every cable company DVR.  Make it happen.

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