Fare Thee Well – Seven From The Vault

It has been a full three weeks since I embarked on the emotional rollercoaster weekend of music, friends, community and fun that was Fare Thee Well: Three Shows in Chicago. I finally caught my breath, had time to reflect and find my voice (my external voice, which was spent from exuberance, singing and cheering; and my internal voice, which has been sorting through and processing the full spectrum of emotions and experiences GD50 provided). I have been combing through the attics of my own life since first discovering the band in 1985, reading reviews and articles, re-listening to the shows, juxtaposing those performances with some of my favorites from throughout the ages (thank you Archive.org and Sirius 23), and really trying to wrap my arms around not only last weekend, but my all-encompassing thirty year love affair with the band. (Find a link to my last GD related post here… this post received the honor of Freshly Pressed by Word Press)

I read a while back about the origins of the band name. Jerry sifting through a large tome (Funk & Wagnall’s Standard Dictionary of Mythology, Folklore and Legend) at Phil’s house one night, hanging out with the band in their formative years…presumably playing as the Warlocks. He comes across an entry where the two words jumped off the page at him…numbingly black, bordered by gold…just staring him in the face. Grateful Dead. And beside the words began a short parable, a folk story of a hero who came upon a throng of people who were mistreating a corpse…kicking and spitting at the dead body, speaking ill of the man it used to be and refusing to bury him. The hero inquires as to why the throng would desecrate a man’s honor in such a way, and was told the dead man had not paid his debts to the townspeople. Upon hearing this, the hero gives the townspeople every last cent he has as well as all his worldly possessions to ensure a proper burial for the corpse. The townspeople obliged, and the hero was on his way. Later, he comes across a wanderer in his travels who accompanies him on the next leg of his journey. His new traveling companion helps the hero amass a small fortune in short order, and also saves the hero’s life. Later, he reveals to the hero that he was the corpse that the hero had honored.

Or maybe the psychotropic drugs the band was using at the time helped Jerry embellish his memory, and he just really liked the name. Either way, I never let the facts ruin a good story.

But nonetheless, Fare Thee Well certainly honored the life and memory of one of rock music’s greats. And it also honored the entire band, its revolutionary contributions to the music world, its community of fans…and the incredible 50 year journey we all have helped make so memorable.

The number seven (7) played a key role in Fare Thee Well. The musicians on stage numbered seven…and July, the month of all three performances, is the seventh calendar month. The letter G, which begins both the band’s name and its founder’s surname, is the seventh letter in the alphabet. There are seven letters in Chicago, Soldier, Shapiro, Madison and in Bob Weir. Even our mail orders were sent to GDTSTOO. (It’s been hot for seven weeks now, Too hot to even speak now, Did you hear what I just heard?)

In keeping with the number seven Gematria, here are my seven most pressing takeaways from Fare Thee Well:

1) Jerry – Let’s discuss the elephant in the stadium right up front. I like to think that the real reason Bobby and Phil couldn’t keep this thing going TOGETHER after Jerry’s passing is that it was just too hard. He meant so much to all of us as fans, and certainly to the music, but he meant so much more to his brothers…his band mates for thirty years. Hearing Phil’s words before his donor rap Friday night, you could tell what Jerry meant to him. And if you watched The Other One, Bobby’s recently released documentary, you get a clear picture of exactly what Jerry meant to him. Jerry was the straw that stirred the drink. He was the engine, the driving force and de facto leader of the band, who had a magical voice I have described to my wife as what I believe the fabric velvet would sound like if it were audible. The sadness we all felt when Jerry died must have been exponentially more intense for the core four, and for at least some of them, being together and playing the music and living that life together would just bring his memory back…magnify the fact that he was missing and reopen the wounds. It must hurt…and I get it.

BUT…there were moments each night, when the band was in synch and emotions ran high, when I could feel Jerry’s presence right there on stage. It brought tears to my eyes. And the well thought out two-song encore on Sunday…TOG and Attics…well that was almost unfair in its perfection. We will get by…we will survive. Because even when there are no strings to play, he played to all of us. Jerry is eternal through the beautiful musical legacy he left us.Jerry FTW

We, as fans, never had the chance to say a proper goodbye. Maybe the band didn’t have that chance as well. Fare Thee Well provided everyone with a perfect opportunity to bid Jerry farewell, and to celebrate all that his life and legacy have given to us.

Five themes (Music/Dreams/Children/Love/Gratitude) were constant throughout the weekend, within the lyrics of the songs the band played, within the Grateful Dead songbook as a whole (which provided a backdrop to our collective experience in our hotel rooms, in our cars, and all over Shakedown Street), and as abstract or overt messages in the event itself.

2) Music is the unifying force, and is central to why we made the trek to Chicago in the first place…and that is true for the band and the fans. The band’s lyrics are rich with musical references, allegories and imagery. We are all players in the Heart of Gold Band. Our weekend was, in fact, replete with fireworks, calliopes and clowns.

Coming full circle, and opening with BOR, the very song that would be the last played by the band with Jerry in the same venue, was ethereal. This simple but well thought out gesture signified to the throngs that the band understood, and was on our collective wavelength. It demonstrated the band’s commitment to its fans and the history of the Grateful Dead and to Jerry to, for the next three days, create a bridge back in time twenty years and deliver a proper farewell…one none of us ever truly experienced…and a true celebration of the band, the fans and especially the music.

And the music we heard was great. Frankly, it might have been, overall, the best three day run of music I have seen the band play since the early 1990s. It wasn’t perfect, but when has it ever been? There were moments of transcendence, and others that certainly wouldn’t warrant an ante in a game of Jacks or Better…but that is what makes this band so special. There is a 400+ song musical treasure trove from which they can choose from on any given night, and to only repeat two songs over the course of five shows was amazing. To put that in perspective: U2 just put on two shows in MSG over the weekend and there were 19 songs out of a 23-25 song show that were repeated both nights. And the Fare Thee Well set lists were chock full of fan favorites and rarities, and offered a nice representation of the evolution of the band’s full oeuvre across four decades.

Music is why we came…and the music delivered, on all levels.

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine; And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung; Would you hear my voice come through the music; Would you hold it near as it were your own?

3) Dreams, like good music, take us places only our imagination will allow. There are no limits. Dreams and dreaming are a constant theme in the GD canon. We all dreamed the band would get together again one day…

All the years combine, they melt into a dream.

When there was no dream of mine, you dreamed of me.

4) Children: In the two decades since I last saw the Grateful Dead, a great deal has changed in my life. The greatest and most important change was/is the birth of my children. I know I am not alone. Children are found throughout the GD oeuvre. Playing the songs for my children, watching them dance and tap their feet to the music is priceless. Jerry lives on through his music…and also through his children. We all do.

God bless the child, who rings that bell.

And the kids, they dance and shake their bones.

5) Love: My wife and I shared our first dance together as husband and wife to They Love Each Other. Love is a ubiquitous theme throughout the Grateful Dead songbook. Even the songs the band covers tend to focus on the greatest of all of life’s forces. There was so much love in Chicago. I couldn’t make it to Santa Clara, unfortunately, but I am sure love ran ram shod at Levi as well.

A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through.

You know our love will not fade away.

6) Gratitude: There was so much to be thankful for, the shows may have been better served being played the fourth Thursday in November. The band’s lyrics are littered with gratitude, as is the band name. But Fare Thee Well was really a giant forum for us, as fans, to thank the band we all love one last time, and for that band to thank us for an incredible ride. And for all of us to thank Jerome John Garcia.

Shapiro certainly deserves praise and thanks for his efforts. It was no small task to put that incredible three (five) day run together, and to basically tie-dye the city of Chicago. I frequented his first club, Wetlands, in NYC for years, listening to Dead cover bands and other Jam band offshoots, so I know firsthand where he came from, and booking the Phish cover band Stash to play for 150 people, mostly from the same Long Island town the band hailed from was a far cry from Fare Thee Well. Who knew?

001It wasn’t always pretty, but as Dave Chappelle so eloquently put it from the witness stand during his Michael Jackson trial bit…”He made ThrillerThriller.”

Trey also earned high praise and gratitude from most in attendance and those in the cheap seats on couch tour. He performed admirably in a role that featured a higher degree of difficulty than the Triple Lindy. In many ways, he was in a no-win situation…and yet, somehow managed to prevail, proving he was the right man for the job and delivering some memorable takes on a number of songs most feared could not be properly interpreted by anyone other than JG.

But you know who else deserves more thanks than he got in Chicago…and in general over the years? Robert friggin’ Hunter, that’s who. That cat can straight up write lyrics…maybe Bob Dylan was better….maybe. But he’s on a very short list at the tippity top of whatever Mount Rushmore of lyricists our world has ever seen. And I can’t tell you how many times his words have brought a smile to my face.

7) Chicago/Soldier Field – Chicago was, in typical fashion, the Second City yet again. But this paid off, as the band found their footing and began to really gel by the time they made it from Santa Clara to Chicago.

Soldier Field was not ideal in any way. Stadia in general don’t offer the best acoustics when it comes to music. And this particular stadium had the most god-awful ingress-egress issues that it made an all-cash toll booth during rush hour seem like an Easy Pass lane on a rural freeway. It seemed like some evil genius was watching through one-sided glass as he funneled the crowds slowly toward a torture chamber.

But…we all made it in to the shows…and back out into the Chicago nights with giant smiles on our faces.

Soldier Field, like Fare Thee Well, was built to honor and remember heroes. And on this Fourth of July weekend, it served both causes equally. Furthermore, Soldier Field in its present form mirrored the band, as it combined historic architecture, its original look and feel, with modern additions and amenities featuring walls of glass levels and luxury boxes. Soldier Field

As the twentieth set of Days Between approach, and still glowing from the exuberance of Fare Thee Well, we can now move forward with the closure we weren’t afforded back in 1995. Constant reminders of the popularity of this event continue to resonate, both within the Grateful Dead community as well as in the strangest of places if you look at it right…take this article as exhibit A.

I thank Peter Shapiro, Madison House and the band and crew for a real good time. Here’s hoping for another celebration of equal or greater quality sometime soon…and please let it be somewhere on the east coast.

All the best,

IDROS

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In Memoriam: These Places Were Not Such A Shore Thing

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This post was written in honor of Memorial Day, the unofficial kick-off to summer and most importantly, the first major weekend of shore season. Going “down the shore” for those of us who grew up in and around Philadelphia, is and always has been a way to escape to a relaxing paradise, replete with sand, sea, good food, good friends, family and a host of landmarks, attractions, restaurants and watering holes that offer just enough nostalgia to elevate even the most average places to must-visit/see status, and to propel the very good to levels of unimpeachable perfection. We all have places we take visitors who have never been to our little island (Absecon Island, home to Margate, Longport, Ventnor and Atlantic City), without fail…our favorites…you know, the ones we are most proud of, the ones that bring extra special smiles to our faces just thinking about in the freezing cold depths of winter.

There are many places down the shore that have reached pantheon status…regulars in Philadelphia Magazine’s “Best of the Shore” issues. The shore just wouldn’t be the same without them, they pre-date all of us (or at least seem to), everyone we know hits them regularly, or at least semi-regularly, and they define our summer experience…or help shape it. Even if we don’t go, or don’t go as often anymore, some of these places remain as important landmarks and just knowing they are there is comforting (and we definitely use them when giving others directions). Some of them aren’t even on Absecon Island, but they are close enough to become part of our shore world. In no particular order, these gems include the big three sub shops (Dino’s, Sack-o’s and The Whitehouse), Angelo’s Fairmont Tavern, Gillian’s Fun Deck, Smitty’s Clam Bar, Ventura’s Greenhouse, The Boardwalk (ours and the one in the OC), Robert’s Place, Frank S. Farley Rest Stop, The Dairy Bar, The Knife and Fork Inn, Downbeach Deli, Mentos, Chef Vola, Casel’s, Ozzie’s (despite a brief time in absentia), Storybook Land, Johnson’s Popcorn, Tony’s Baltimore Grill, Jo Jo’s, Little Saigon, Memories, The Point, The Tilton and Towne 16 Movie Theaters, Two Cents Plain, and of course Lucy.

But this is Memorial Day weekend, so this post is written to memorialize those old haunts down the shore that are no longer with us. Those forever emblazoned in our memories, sometimes even our hearts, but are no longer there. Seasonal places like beach towns make it difficult for some businesses to survive. For others, the skyrocketing real estate market created opportunities for developers to purchase our beloved places and explore new highest and best uses (in real estate speak). And some were destroyed by fire, changing tastes, greed, stupidity, hubris and bankruptcy. And a few on this list never deserved to line our shore landscape in the first place, but are notable nonetheless.

Without further ado, and in reverse order of significance, at least according to your humble author, a trip down the shore’s memory lane:

The Showboat: Look, it was all the way at the north end of AC…such a hike anyway. It was never the nicest casino, and architecturally was perhaps interesting in its own weird way, but losing it last year was nothing worth shedding a tear over. But the bowling alley was cool (remember that?), and provided some good times back in the day.

Pat’s Steaks: Notable only that the Philadelphia institution failed, and failed miserably, when opening an Atlantic City location.

Pantry Pride: There was another grocery store in Margate, for those who can remember that far back.

Lenny’s Hot Dog Stand: IDROS has faint memories of this place (it closed when IDROS was 5), but IDROS remembers sharing a dog with his dad here once upon a time. It would have been nice to have another option than pizza for late night grub, but with all the great junk food littering the shore, not too broken up over this loss.

Party Pak: Make way for the bigger and better Wawa. No real loss here.

Mojo: Not a lucky spot (more on this later), but a nice enough restaurant with pretty good food, and some decent live jazz on some weekend nights.

Captain Starn’s: Great restaurant overlooking the Absecon Inlet, and for those that rode their bikes or jogged or walked all the way to the northern end of the boardwalk back in the day, Starn’s was there…

Lou’s: A long-time Ventnor diner/kitchenette with killer milkshakes and a musty smell derived from both its hundred year old furnishings and an aging (read: aged) clientele.

Tivoli Pier: In the late 80s, the Trop, then called TropWorld, opened an amusement park which included a roller coaster (it was lame) and a Ferris Wheel (it resembled the big wheel in every casino that has the different denomination dollar bills on it) in an effort to mimic the Las Vegas trend of offering a “family friendly” experience. Alas, it closed in 1995, making way for the Trop’s new, and much better, entertainment area, The Quarter.

The Waterfront: There have been quite a few new brands to take over since it closed. Built with a shitload of wood and an expansive deck overlooking the bay, there was live music, boat drinks and pretty good food. Baia is the latest…Inlet before that.

Sailfish Café: Great beach town restaurant name. Lasted forever. Only ate there once.

Bubba Mac’s Shack – This short-lived BBQ and Blues joint in Somers Point wasn’t bad…but the real estate it sat on was worth more to developers.

Gilhooleys: Fun bar that had its day before your author’s time, but it did honor IDROS’ fake ID once upon a time. One of the updated bars along the famed Barbary Coast that foreshadowed a trend toward nicer establishments to please the well-heeled summer home owners that were slowly replacing the locals and college crowds, and the dive bars those crowds preferred. (Read this account of the Barbary Coast)

The Golden Nugget: Steve Wynn’s first foray into AC was the most easily accessible to us downbeachers. For a summer or two in the late 80s/early 90s, there was a summer stage on the beach in front of the Nugget, and every weekend we had the likes of Rod Stewart, Steve Miller, the Beach Boys and Don Henley setting the tone for those summer nights.

Land of Oz Amusement & Arcade Hall: Boarded up after a fire in 1981, this place was a little kid’s dream.

Omar’s: Late night at the pool tables at the first bar IDROS ever got into with fake ID. Let’s just say it wasn’t a very rigorous entry policy at the site that eventually gave way to Mojo.

The Taste: This ice cream, yogurt and dessert shop run by a crazy Aussie who seemed to be a character in an 80s movie, was ahead of its time and also up against some stiff competition in the Margate City ice cream scene.

Billy Ho’s: The pink Margate restaurant still stands, but unfortunately the name does not…and what a name. This is definitely your author’s brother-in-law’s favorite entry on this list.

The White Sands: Margate’s only hotel (motel?) that IDROS can remember…bought and converted to condo during the last real estate boom cycle.

The Islander: There have been quite a few restaurants to open and subsequently close in Seaview Harbor on the Longport Bridge…but this was the first, and IDROS worked there one crazy summer…

Ventnor Mini Golf/Ice Rink: Loved everything about that place…especially the open air architecture with a suspended roof. Bonus points to those who actually ice skated there. IDROS did.

The Crab Pot: Now Lamberti’s, Steve and Cookie’s first restaurant had better real estate and served breakfast. IDROS worked there as a bus boy a long time ago.

Jefferson Miniature Golf: IDROS still has two or three free game cards from this crappy but beloved course in Margate. A favorite hang-out for your author and his cousins.

Polo Bay: Tomatoes’ new spot (remember when Tomatoes was on Ventnor Avenue where Miyako sushi and hibachi restaurant is now?), the crowd was twenty years younger, on average, in its heyday.

Million Dollar Pier: A few of ACs amusement piers closed and re-opened over the years, but MDP was the one IDROS visited every summer as a child. When it burnt down, IDROS was very upset.

Michelli’s: Great pizza spot to soak up the booze when bar crawling along Amherst or Washington.

Ocean One: A mall built on a pier jutting into the Atlantic. A couple friends of mine worked there one summer. It was cool for a hot minute. The Pier repurposed it with some better, higher end shopping and a few of Philly’s finest restaurants. Now Blatstein will try to improve upon that.

Brigantine Castle: Scared the crap out of IDROS back in the day. But even scarier than the attraction itself is how many haunted houses have caught fire over the years and burnt down…many times injuring and even killing people inside them.

Fideli’s: Too many restaurants to count have opened and shut over the years (Fai’s, Cheeburger Cheeburger, Uncle Bill’s Pancake House, Dune, and so many more), but this old Italian stalwart had a very nice run.

Playboy Hotel & Casino: A number of gambling halls have come and gone over the years in AC, with four more shutting down just last year. But Heff’s black glass tower was one of the least gaudy looking monstrosities erected to take its patrons hard-earned money, and because IDROS was just hitting puberty when it opened, IDROS was a huge fan of the scantily clad bunnies that ran rampant throughout the building from day one. And everyone has to admit…that bunny logo at the top of the tower gleaming amid the growing neon glitz of the city was so much better than anything TRUMP.

Reds: A personal favorite of your author, combining a decent pool room with a disco and lounge that played primarily new wave and alternative music. Hated when it closed to make way for condos.

The Margate and Ventnor Twins: With summer traffic it can take a half hour to get to Tilton and forty five minutes to get to the Towne 16. Having two theaters on the island was priceless. Over the years IDROS saw ET, Stand By Me, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Bull Durham, Dirty Dancing, The Abyss, Beverly Hills Cop 2 and Terminator 2 and countless others at these theaters.

Maloney’s: A restaurant and four separate bars rolled into one. Many incredibly fun nights ended here…IDROS thinks.

Our Youth: How lucky were we all to have this place when we were young? How lucky are we to still have it now? While we can’t turn back the clock, our incredible memories remain…and new ones will be made with our own kiddos.

If you have other places you feel should be included in this list, please comment below.

As always, your author is grateful for all of his tens of loyal readers, and wishes you all a happy holiday and a terrific summer.

Hope to see you down the shore next month.

All the best,

IDROS

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Four Questions

In honor of Pesach, of the improbable parting of the Red Sea, the ten plagues, Moses, Pharaoh, the bitter herbs (especially the bitter herbs), and escapes from bondage anywhere and anytime…

  1. Better song revival in the past 15 years – Journey’s “Don’t Stop Believin’” or Sir Elton’s “Tiny Dancer?”
  2. Remember Ellis from Die Hard? You know, “Sprechen ze Talk…Hans, Bubby,” i.e., the character once voted by Maxim Magazine as the second greatest movie sleazeball of all time (and it was quite a list). His name, by the way, is Hart Bochner (with a name like that, he was born to play a douchebag). Anyway, did you know Hart directed the cable movie extraordinaire PCU (his directorial debut, PCU was the classic that paved the way to stardom for Jeremy Piven and John Favreau)? (I know…this was two questions and a bunch of nonsense…but the first question was rhetorical…so just chill and roll with it. You’re supposed to relax on Pesach anyway.)
  3. If Netflix is releasing (allegedly) 13 episodes of Fuller House – and oh yes, I am dead serious (click here) – should we now prepare ourselves for Different Strokes With Different Folks (RIP Gary, Dana and Conrad), Fully Grown Pains, More Wonder Years, Better Times, Retired With Grandchildren, and Uber (I like that one too)?
  4. What is scarier: The tragedy on that Germanwings flight last week (and what it means in a broader sense) or the Iran deal Obama just forced down the world’s throat?

Mah Nishtana – Halaila Hazeh…

Sorry to end on a serious and somber note. Enjoy your time with your families.

Hope all of you find the Afikomen, whatever, metaphorically, that means to you.

Happy Passover and Easter. And save me some peeps.

All the best,

IDROS

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THREE FOR THOUGHT

1) Yet another horrific week in the Israeli-People who live on the outskirts of Israel saga. Deafening silence from the likes of Celebrity Asswipe Central (including Russell “I’m not an Anti-Semite…I just choose to bash Israel for defending itself over all the other causes in the world” Brand, Roger “I wrote The Wall so I am entitled to use my celebrity to comment on any situation in the world where an actual nation builds a wall as self-defense against a fictitious people” Waters, the Spanish Brainless triumvirate, Selena “If my taste in men is any indication, I am clueless” Gomez, Emma “you are so lucky you can act, honey” Thompson, Rihanna (she of the Twitter deletion contingent that apparently doesn’t realize the permanence of the internet), Danny “you apparently actually are too old for this shit” Glover, and even Jon “et tu Brute” Stewart). I guess they all hold civilized people to a different standard. Incredibly, I have more respect for Mel Gibson than these naïve cowards. They hide their anti-Semitism behind the idea that they are rallying around a “just cause” while Mel just hates Jews just like daddy did…loud and proud.

But enough on celebrities that aren’t worth my time or money (ironically, both songs penned by Roger Goebbels Waters). And don’t get me started on the media…I have no idea when CNN, the BBC, the AP and CBS became affiliates of al Jazeera, but the reporting on everything involving Israel and its neighbors has devolved into something out of George Orwell’s worst dystopian nightmare (click here and here for some examples).

3 for thought pic (Way to equate the innocent victims with the brutal terrorists CNN – I wish I was making this up)

I remember thinking to myself a few years ago, when Israel heroically decided to free a thousand terrorists in exchange for one of its own (Gilad Shalit), that unfortunately, many innocent people are going to die because of this decision. Of course every precious life in Israel is valuable, and I applauded the exchange at the time despite the uneasiness it made me feel. And it is, in my opinion, no coincidence that the aftermath of that bold, life-affirming move by Israel has led to a giant step backward in the stability of the region. It reminds me of the scene just after “dickless” turns off the power grid in Ghostbusters, releasing hundreds of ghosts the eponymous quartet had spent the better part of the movie capturing, back into New York City society…they wreaked such havoc.

Most of the world is blaming the person for having the unmitigated temerity to swat at the mosquito, who has left welt after welt upon his or her body…and god forbid the swat connects, and the pesky parasite is hurt or even killed…

And every time these troglodytes cheer the death of innocent Israelis like their home-town just won the Super Bowl or World Cup – and I know this happens far more frequently and in greater numbers than the already far-too-abundant video we see in the West – I try to imagine Israelis, or Jews anywhere in the world, really, celebrating in the streets over the death of even Hitler himself…and alas, I can’t even picture it. That level of infantile hatred, of abject putrescence, is reserved for only the lowest of the low.

And yet we hear nothing from the throngs who condemned Israel just months ago…

2) Florida State: While there is much to say about the football team led by a shady character with a growing litany of crimes ranging from grand theft crustacean to rape and sexual assault (and if the rape allegations are true, he should burn in hell)…alas, I am referring to the shooting on campus. Perhaps the nation is so immersed in the deep freeze, digging out of yet another polar vortex, that the shock of yet another mass shooting seems muted in relation to past events…or perhaps it is because none of the innocent victims were killed…or maybe we are becoming numb as a society to all of this nonsense. Whatever the case, the mass-shooting epidemic in our nation is not going away. Feel free to revisit my two-part novella on senseless gun violence I wrote in the aftermath of Sandy Hook…in the words of the great Led Zeppelin, the song remains the same.

3) AP – Not the AP that blames Israel for every wrong in the world these days…but Adrian Peterson. Yesterday, the NFLPA appealed Roger Goodell’s ruling to suspend AP for the remainder of the season without pay. Just once, I would like to see that stupid union do the right thing and say “you know what, we agree with the NFL here. AP was wrong and if any of you other players think it’s ok to get medieval on your own or anyone else’s children, you will not have our support. We are donating the full amount of what AP was set to earn for the remainder of the 2014 season to charitable organizations that champion the causes of abused children and encourage the Minnesota Vikings and the NFL to match our donation dollar for dollar.” Wouldn’t that be great? Why doesn’t that kind of thing happen in our world – especially when it’s teed up like that?

And Rusty Hardin, AP’s defense attorney….are you friggin’ kidding me? This dirt bag had the audacity to ask “who in the hell does he [Roger Goodell] think he is?” Who do you think YOU are Rusty? You defend assholes, criminals and the occasionally wrongly accused for a living…Goodell runs the league in which your client plays. Look, I will be the first to admit Goodell handled the Ray Rice situation about as poorly as someone could, and has not been the best commissioner the NFL has ever seen on many levels, but he is the commissioner. And the real irony in the whole thing is that AP believes, as the father of the child, he should be allowed to mete out discipline any damn way he pleases (he shouldn’t)…and yet is somehow taken aback when the head of his league does the exact same thing, except, you know, without the unconscionable physical abuse.

Anyway…I wish you all a wonderful, happy and healthy turkey day.

Gobble Gobble,

IDROS

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Things

1) Pretty sure I saw the big DJ from Maloney’s circular bar a few weeks ago when I was at the shore…I did a double take and may have even stared a second or two too long…but that guy played Bon Jovi and Bruce and kept the party going until hours I only see when my baby cries in the middle of the night (because my two year old woke her up crying and I am useless).

2) Where in the world did Tia Carerre (her real name is Althea Rae Janairo, BTW) go? First off…her real name is Althea. I love the name Althea. But she was one the hottest actresses on the planet for a hot cup of coffee in the early to mid-90s…almost ubiquitous. Then she took a wrong turn with Pauly Shore and a second misstep with Eric Roberts and then found herself mired in B-Movie hell with a veritable who’s who in the netherworld of straight-to-video C-Listers from Stevie Baldwin to the pro’s pro, Steven Seagal…

3) A day on Venus is longer than a year on Venus. That’s right…look it up (or just click this link). Not only that, Venus is the only planet in our Solar System that spins counter-clockwise…so the sun rises in the West and sets in the East. Talk about an Axis that’s Bold as Love

4) These two guys:
Things 1 and 2

5) I just finished watching The Wire, which was tops on my list for shows to be snarfed down like a box of Bugles or Thin Mints or anything else that it is extremely difficult to stop eating/drinking/doing once you start…binge watching at its finest. As promised, the show now rests firmly in my own pantheon of top five dramas of all time (where, exactly, I am still not sure)…but I can say this unequivocally: Whereas The Sopranos and Lost had endings that irked and disturbed me because they were executed somewhere between questionably and poorly (for Lost, that might be kind)…David Simon’s opus (vastly different than Mr. Holland’s) disturbed me at its end because the subject matter is just incredibly frustrating and vexing and well, disturbing…from beginning to end and everywhere in between.

6) I recently learned that Quentin Tarantino has the exact same IQ as none other than Steven Hawking…yeah, I wasn’t sure what to do with that either, but on some level it just makes sense. You will all get a kick out of this link

7) And lastly, there is a time when you and your partner/spouse/significant other are pregnant, but you are mired in the delicate period of “loose lips sink ships,” unable to tell anyone but the closest of relatives for fear of jinxing everything. It’s a weird couple of months, and as the safe zone approaches, I find it more and more difficult to keep the secret. Recently, in our eleventh week, I ran into a couple while out with friends (wifey wasn’t with me)…the woman was probably eight months preggo…it was so obvious I felt comfortable breaking rule number one for men when speaking to women…assuming (or asking) if she is, in fact, knocked up. I was excited as a father-to-be and so I found myself blurting it out to these two complete strangers just because of the bond of pregnancy.

Anyway…that’s my show for today. Enjoy the day and fruits of your labors.

Love and peace,

IDROS

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And With Freedom Comes Responsibility

flag-day-fireworks

There are a great many options when it comes to spending (I prefer investing) our free time in today’s world.

We can take ridiculous “tests” that determine which Kardashian we would be, or which character in Silver Spoons we would be, or which nursery rhyme villain, Disney World ride, Lady Gaga outfit, extinct animal, Spielberg film, Shel Silverstein poem, Chinese Food menu item, etc…

We can crush Netflix original programs four episodes at a clip;

We can pore over, troll and contribute to various social media platforms;

We can have sex (alone or with others), pamper ourselves, shop, exercise, eat, travel, play sports or games, read, nap, Prancercise, meditate, go to the movies, do a crossword, enjoy time with friends or family, volunteer…

We have choices…lots of them. And for that, we are fortunate. God bless America.

I urge all of you to take an hour or so and read The Case for Reparations by Ta-Nehisi Coates, an intriguing and very well written piece recently featured in The Atlantic.

I have no idea how you will feel while and after reading the article. I read it a few weeks ago and still haven’t fully determined how I feel, what I think, and what, if anything, I should do now that I read it, given that it definitely affected me in profound ways.

A few of my personal takeaways:

Reading this piece made me feel ashamed and embarrassed to call myself an American in much the same way most of the W Bush presidency did (especially in the aftermath of Katrina – “Heck of a job, Brownie,” the invasion of Iraq and failure to find WMDs and his continual buffoonery that made him a global laughing stock) – and a great deal of the current Obama presidency is doing (Obamacare, the IRS scandal, his hypocrisy in solving the financial crisis – thank god we bailed out GM so they could continue to be so poorly run that their shoddily built cars have killed hundreds – and aren’t we all equally proud that our tax-dollar bailouts were used to bestow giant bonuses on Wall Street’s wolves just days after they fleeced us and the Federal Government out of billions. And don’t get me started on Obama’s consistently shameful treatment of Israel, arguably America’s most loyal and important ally, but alas that is for another article and another time.

My own black history education is shameful…and I know I am at least partly to blame for this. Worse still, I believe I received a top 1% education in our country, and still feel this is true, so I can’t imagine what is taught (and more importantly, what isn’t) in classrooms and curricula that unfortunately fall in the lower tiers of the American education system. I expect the world, and most importantly all Americans, to be educated on the Holocaust as I believe this will at least help to preclude something that awful from ever happing again…and I know there is a complete systemic failure right now in our country in making Holocaust education mandatory and in ensuring it is carried out professionally and effectively (watch this video if you don’t believe me). I similarly believe black history and race relations need to be taught at every level of education in our country. Ignorance nurtures racism…education combats ignorance.

Random thought: show me an important article on race that doesn’t feature an embarrassing nugget about a Philadelphia mayor…

Unfortunate thought: I am once again sickened by Donald Sterling, and he wasn’t even mentioned once in this article. (And Dan Snyder is no prize either).

History is littered with examples of man’s mind-bogglingly evil inhumanity towards his fellow man. Vonnegut built an incredible career upon that fact. Kubrick’s 2001 showcases man’s inhumanity as a core theme. Women (i.e., 50% of the world population) have been mistreated since the dawn of time, and unfortunately continue to suffer in many parts of the world. Same for homosexuals, mentally and physically challenged, vertically challenged, Native Americans and countless others. Bottom line, I am not sure reparations can ever fully repay everyone…or anyone, frankly, who has been egregiously wronged throughout history.

As a Jew and a grandchild of Holocaust survivors, I kept waiting for the author to relate his argument to a situation in which reparations have been paid in the recent past. I know Germany paid reparations to Israel and to survivors of the Holocaust. I was glad to see the parallel drawn, but was also upset that important lessons, themes and facts regarding Germany’s reparations were omitted. While Germany and some other groups did pay approximately $7 billion in today’s dollars to Israel and direct survivors of the Shoah, Jewish and otherwise, the payments were quite small (a few hundred dollars a month)…let’s say 500,000 people were paid, that total would amount to $14,000 per person. Furthermore, families of those who died received little or nothing. And payments typically only endured for the lifespan of the survivor, so once my grandfather passed away, his payments ceased…same with my grandmother. But what of their children? What of their parents, brothers, sisters and children that perished? The reparations contemplated by Coates are quite different to those paid by Germany in that money would only be paid to descendants of victims (obviously there is no choice at this point). And Coates fails to explain who actually footed the bill Germany paid, how it was funded, how news of it was received in Germany, who received payments, who didn’t, and who was responsible for determining all of this. At least for me, some if not all of that information would have been interesting if not essential for a true thought-provoking comparison to be made.

Among the issues not discussed are the feelings of resentment many Germans felt when these payments were announced – particularly Germans who believed they were innocent and whose families did not participate in the horror show. Also not discussed is the rampant Anti-Semitism raging through Germany and the rest of Europe today…so perhaps the cathartic act of reparations helped quash some racism in the immediate sense (though I doubt that), but the deep-seeded fear, hatred and ignorance always lingered just below the surface and were just waiting for time to pass, memories to fade and hard times to fall in order to resurface. Sure, Germany is not the most blatantly anti-Semitic country in Europe right now…so whoop-dee-doo…I guess the nation deserves a prize for that…but as a Jew, would I dare to live there right now? Would I be comfortable walking alone anywhere in Germany wearing a yarmulke, or a visible Star of David?

That said, I believe it was a good thing that Germany did anything at all even though you could never put a price-tag on the horror of the experience endured nor on the lives and livelihoods lost. But I am not sure I can ever forgive Germany despite the act of contrition. The problem is, it could never be enough, and the powerful and unimaginable anti-Semitism that it took to allow the Holocaust to be perpetrated had been ingrained into the fabric of German and Eastern European life over hundreds of years. Paying money most Germans never authorized or actually supported in reparations did not extinguish that ignorance and hatred.

And then there is this…I am honestly not sure how I feel about the premise of paying reparations given my ancestors were not in America during the time of slavery. My suspicion is there are many people who would feel similarly. Furthermore, my grandparents were treated just as horrifically in Germany and Poland and Russia, if not more so, were left with nothing, and faced awful racism themselves, even in America.

But when the time came to start over, even with nothing, in America…let’s just say that I concede it was fortunate my grandparents were white. Being white is a blessing in many ways for most Jews. If Jews were blue, or green or any color other than white, I am not entirely sure there would be any Jews left on our planet. Hell, we flirted with extinction more than a few times even with our light skin. But being white allowed many Jews to blend in with non-Semitic whites in many parts of the Western world and rise to some modicum of wealth and status. And for American Jews, it can be argued that many direct and indirect benefits we experienced as a result of being lucky enough to have light skin came, at least in some part, from the same exploitation of black people Coates argues quite convincingly benefitted (and continue to benefit) all white people in America. So we reaped and continue to reap the benefits, even if we aren’t culpable for the gruesome and unconscionable acts that enabled the benefits to exist.

Given the above sentiment, I am reminded of the seminal moment in Soul Man, when Darth Vader asks Pony Boy what he learned from his experience as a “black” man, and CTH replied, “if I didn’t like it, I could always get out…” I heard JEJ saying, “you’ve learned a great deal more than I thought” quite a few times as I read the piece.

Other pop-culture references I recalled during and after reading the article:

Dazed and Confused teacher, Ms. Ginny Stroud, to her class after the bell rings: “Okay guys, one more thing, this summer when you’re being inundated with all this American bicentennial Fourth Of July brouhaha, don’t forget what you’re celebrating, and that’s the fact that a bunch of slave-owning, aristocratic, white males didn’t want to pay their taxes.”

The Wire, when Prez quoted the first few lines of The Rolling Stones’ Brown Sugar, and nobody had any idea what he was saying…the opening lyrics of that song are haunting.

Coates’ piece accomplished exactly what the author set out to do, in my opinion. He frustrated me. He made me feel guilt. But most importantly, he made me think. This is an important topic, and if nothing else, my hope is that the education requirements and curriculum for black history and race relations education are expanded as a result of this article.

Anyway, I hope you all have a wonderful and safe holiday weekend. I am interested in hearing/reading your thoughts on Coates’ piece. Feel free to comment below.

Best regards,

 

IDROS

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White Trash

ImageI walked out of our house today to jog and almost tripped on a disgusting white bag covered with ants and a reddish brown substance I really hope was ketchup. It was crumpled up near our mailbox in the street. Around it were two yellow cheeseburger wrappers, also crumpled up. My first thought was that the garbage must have fallen out of the back of the garbage truck yesterday, which was trash day. But then I remembered that when I got home the previous night from work, the trash had already been picked up, and there was no nasty waste strewn about the street in front of our home. I was angered, of course, at the fact that the sanctity of our home and neighborhood had been violated…but I was not at all surprised.

For the past few months, during my morning jogs through our neighborhood, I have unfortunately encountered a similar sight far too often (and by the way, once is far too often). We seem to have a serial litterer in Weston, or a few of them (perhaps copy-cat litterers?), and the culprit(s) use(s) white McDonald’s drive thru bags along with yellow cheeseburger wrappers as their exclusive suburban DE-beautification devices of choice.

I have wracked my brain on these runs, set to whatever random musical soundtrack my Shuffle spits out that morning, thinking about litter – don’t judge me.

First the obvious stuff, like the word litter itself. I mean, how can a word with such a dirty and even criminal definition also have such a beautiful, adorable and joyous meaning? Image

Then I think about these particular incidents/crimes like a detective…as if I am going to find the hooligans responsible, and…and…and what? Wring their necks like Homer does to Bart? If only…but back to the facts. Always McDonald’s. Always thrown to the side of the road, by the curb or on the shoulder, as if it were the murder weapon tossed out the window of the getaway car fleeing a crime scene. Throughout my life I have unfortunately seen my share of litter. I would say the majority of it has been fast-food related. Not once have I ever seen litter from “The Palm,” or “Joe’s Stone Crabs” or even “P.F. Chang’s.” I know, I know. Millions and millions more people eat at fast food joints every day than at nicer restaurants, so the stats are skewed. Plus, a good percentage of people use drive-thrus at fast food restaurants, while most upscale diners eat in, and when they take out, they certainly don’t eat the food in their cars. Fun facts, but nothing that will lead to a break in the case.

So where I really have been focusing with this sudden rash of littering that has invaded my otherwise pristine suburban neighborhood is on the who and the why. While the who could be anyone (no, not Townshend, Entwistle, Moon and Daltrey), I am pretty confident it is someone (or a couple people) under the age of 22. Yes, I am profiling there, so call me an ageist, but I just don’t see the perpetrator(s) being property owners, or even renters. The crimes have a juvenile air to them, and strike me as being munchies- or alcohol-induced as well.

I also don’t see the asshole(s) responsible for using suburban Weston as his/their personal dumpster being from out of town. Nope, I seriously doubt someone from Parkland, or Cooper City or Hollywood is driving to Weston just to rid their cars of their fast food remnants…and because Mickey D’s has locations pretty much everywhere, I also refuse to believe they are coming here to eat their burgers and fries and then tossing the waste as they head back to their own town.

Furthermore, I don’t see the troglodyte(s) being female. The nature of the crime just strikes me as being male. Feel free to disagree if you must.

The why is a bit more complex. I don’t see a situation where littering is something even an adolescent would do to impress his or her peers. I also don’t see this being a reaction by a kid or young man getting grilled (no pun intended) by his girlfriend or mother about the filth accumulating in his car (“Your car is disgusting! I refuse to set foot in here ever again if you don’t clean it up. Call me when you grow up”…Or…”Clean up your car Billy. If you don’t, not only will you lose the car, but you will no longer be welcome in our home…that’s right Billy. Clean your car or move out. The choice is yours. Your father and I didn’t raise you to live like an animal.”).

Nope…this is a douchebag (or a couple of them) all the way…but the motivation is unclear.

What I do know is this…and it is clear as day:

THE PRIDE ONE HAS IN WHAT HE PUTS IN HIS BODY IS DIRECTLY CORRELATED TO THE PRIDE ONE HAS IN HIS OWN NEIGHBORHOOD

If you have any information that leads to the arrest, or at least the public humiliation, of the perpetrators of these heinous crimes, please call me…I will reward you with a happy meal, and Mayor McCheese will present you with a key to the city of Weston.

As always, thanks for reading. Enjoy the Super Bowl tonight.

IDROS

My pick for tonight: Denver will cover, as the Broncos capitalize on a few key turnovers and win big in New Jersey, 31-20.

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Christmas Caroling

carol brady

Two can play that game, Claus. I, too, have made a list (for a change). Oh, and I checked it twice. Why should you get to corner the market on list-making this time of year, anyway? You hear me, Mr. Saint Nick? (If that is even your real name). So you’re the world’s greatest mensch. Whoop-dee-doo. I’ve got my own list to unveil for you. So without further ado – I will quit rhyming.

Here are the top ten greatest Carols of all time…at least in my humble opinion (feel free to weigh in below, and add any I missed):

10) Carol Leifer – Seinfeld writer and inspiration for Elaine Marie Benes

9) Carol Alt – One of the first supermodels

8) Pete Carroll – Football coach vying to join the “elite” club comprised of Jimmy Johnson and Barry Switzer as the only head coaches to ever win both a collegiate national championship and a Super Bowl

7) Carol Channing – Actress from another generation, known for classics like Hello Dolly. I know her from her guest appearances on The Love Boat where she played Julie McCoy’s Aunt Sylvia

6) Diahann Carroll – Stage and television actress and singer

5) Carol Kane – Latke’s wife on Taxi; LIAR! She’s not a witch, she’s Miracle Max’s wife

4) Carroll O’Connor – Good ol’ Awchie Bunker, America’s favorite racist curmudgeon sweetheart

3) Carole King (or should I say, Carol Klein) – Tapestry is a masterpiece

2) Carol Burnett – Queen of the variety show

1) Lewis Carroll (which is actually a pseudonym for Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) – Creator of Alice, Wonderland, the looking glass, the Mad Hatter and the Jabberwocky, his deranged and brilliant creativity has inspired Disney classics as well as LSD-fueled paranoia…and that type of range must be applauded.

And in keeping with the Christmas music theme I invoked but haven’t really delivered upon, do you remember this classic? Please watch it. You will not be sorry. I just can’t believe it’s been nearly 30 years…

So on that note, I wish you all a very merry Christmas and a happy and healthy new year.

Much love,

IDROS

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I Thought Virginia Was For Lovers…

In increasing frequency, I am unfortunately reminded that our world is populated with an element of society that represents everything that is wrong with humanity.

The latest was this clip I happened upon when I was looking for Jimmy Kimmel’s classic bit where parents tell their kids that they ate all of the Halloween candy.

OOOPS. My bad. I suppose I need to pay closer attention when clicking a link. I can never un-watch that clip, and I am now more unsettled about having an infant daughter who will inevitably reap the bitter and unjust rewards of inheriting a planet rife with miscreants like the Black family in Craigsville, Virginia.

(Note to self…check with Alanis Morissette whether the family surname “Black” is, in fact, ironic in the context of that horrific story).

This year has certainly been a bonanza for this type of behavior and ignorance. Among the carnage of far too many (and even one of these is too many) school and public massacres, the hopelessness created by extremist factions and monetary influence in politics, and pretty much everything Kardashian…I came across these other gems (gem #1    gem #2). You just can’t make this stuff up, and unfortunately, these people procreate.

Sorry to cast a negative pall over your otherwise beautiful November Hump Day.

Hope you all are doing well.

As always, thanks for reading.

IDROS

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It’s Howdy Doody Time

I apologize for my recent hiatus. You all count on me for overly-long, trivial and generally self-serving posts on a regular basis, and for the past several months, I have let you, my faithful readers, friends and family down (most of you probably didn’t even notice…so there’s that).

But the good news is, I’m back. Back with what will certainly be my crappiest post yet.

You’ve all heard the term “back in a flash,” but after an absence that can only be categorized as literary constipation, I suppose you could say I am back in a “flush.”

The theme of this welcome back post, as you may have already guessed, is a topic I happen to know a thing or two about. And to celebrate the finale of one of my favorite television shows of all time (said show’s end-game inspired this disgusting entry, so thanks Vince Gilligan and Dean Norris and the great Walt Whitman), I am going to list some of the more memorable number twos in pop-culture history.

That’s right, you read correctly. In the immortal words of Taro Gomi in her children’s book read the world over, Everyone Poops. And for the purposes of this “made for the toilet” super-list, the more significant the poop, the higher (actually lower) on this list it will appear. As always, IDROS is not omniscient…there are bound to be omissions. Please, readers, add any that are glaring, or any that you feel are appropriately inappropriate.

20)   The Cook, The Thief, His Wife & Her Lover – if this entry means nothing to you, ignore it. Trust me. There are a few people out there that know why this movie made the list, they know who they are, and all I can say is we should have gone to see I Love You to Death…or even Ernest Goes to Jail (both released the same weekend).

19) Summer School – Did the kid who went to the bathroom for the entire movie and still scored highest on the aptitude test play a significant role in Mr. Shoop’s classroom farce? No. Did he really spend an entire summer on the can? Probably not. In fact, he may not have gone to bathroom at all after absconding with the hall pass. But the sentiment was there.

18)   Me, Myself & Irene – In all fairness, Charlie repeatedly asked his neighbor not to let his dogs defecate on his lawn before resorting to this.

17)      Sixteen Candles – Did Grandpa Fred’s deuce have anything to do with the plot? No. Was the scene funny? Of course.

16)   Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery – Tom Arnold’s scene in the bathroom stall beside Austin (“Who does Number Two work for?”) was classic, but like the scene above, really had no effect on the plot;

15)   Jurassic Park – Not a bad idea to find a toilet in the middle of a prehistoric park when having the crap literally scared out of you, but when T-Rex comes a knockin’…well there are better ways to go.

14)   American Pie – Gotta’ love Finch and his issues with going in school bathrooms. We’ve all been there.

13)   South Park – Who doesn’t love Mr. Hankey?

12)   Along Came Polly – Two classically uncomfortable scenes, neither of which really had an impact on the plot. Stiller’s predicament in Aniston’s bathroom after spicy Ethiopian food was high comedy. Capote’s matter-of-fact statement that he just sharted and needed to leave was almost as good as his work in Lebowski.

11)   Speaking of uncomfortable, the unspeakable horrors of Trainspotting somehow got even worse in the scene to which you all know I am referring.

10)   Thank god for John Hughes. While Principal Vernon was duking it out in The Breakfast Club, Bender was telling a joke as he made his way back to the library through the air duct. We are getting closer here. This scene did allow the plot to advance toward its hokey RomCom ending from its teen angst roots.

9)   The Karate Kid – Daniel san’s costume inspired him to “shower” perennial 80’s cretin, William Zabka, aka “Sweep the Leg” Johnny Lawrence, whilst he took a crap at the Halloween dance. There were many scenes in this movie that required suspension of disbelief. A “cool” high school jock taking a crap at a dance in the school john may have taken the cake…but it definitely amped up the rivalry between John and Dan.

8)   The Help – I like to think Octavia Spencer’s secret pie recipe helped secure her Oscar.

7)   Bridesmaids – Nasty but effective scene by McCarthy and gals.

6)   Lethal Weapon 2 – The bad guys rigged a bomb to Murtaugh’s toilet, creating a scenario where Glover really was too old and too scared for this shit…hilarity ensued.

5)   Can’t Buy Me Love – Maybe the crap in the brown bag was dog poop. Maybe it wasn’t. Either way, metaphorically, McDreamy took a crap on one-time bestie Kenneth Wurman’s house. But the way Donald, or Ronald, apologized at the end certainly merited an 80’s slow crap…er clap.

4)   Dumb and Dumber – The Farrelly brothers clearly know their way around potty humor. Seeing Will McAvoy pay the price for betraying Lloyd Christmas was both funny and satisfying.

3)   Seinfeld – Costanza, drawers around his ankles, clutching a newspaper, emerges from Jerry’s can screaming “Vandelay Industries” as Kramer botches his whole unemployment scam. Maybe not the best Seinfeld scene, but this clip is definitely in the top five.

2)   (Mild spoiler alert…if you haven’t watched any of the final season of Breaking Bad, do not read this) Look. We all know Hank’s discovery in Walter’s master bath can is the most significant pop-culture crap of all time. (There are memes, gifs and even a website dedicated to this). But in keeping with the theme, the best dump belongs at NUMBER TWO…duh.

1)   Second prize is no set of steak knives here. Vincent Vega’s poorly timed twosie in Pulp Fiction made things a little easier for Butch. Little did he know what awaited him in Zed’s dungeon moments later…but that’s for another list.

Whatchoo got kids?

As always, thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy tonight’s grand finale. Hope Vince finishes this thing as well as he has executed this entire final season, and the four before it.

All the best,

IDROS

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