Nobody told me there'd be days like these....Strange days indeed.....Strange days indeed....

Speaking as an admirer of the most creative mascot in all of sports, Mr. Met, if there was a baseball game in hell, of course it would be the Yankees and the Phillies. But that's not hell....Hell, its not even purgatory. Right now, it's hell on Earth. The World Series is a Best of 7. I was always taught by my Catholic fore-mothers to never pray for sports teams to win or for the dealer to throw an Ace after receiving a King. After all, gambling is a sin and Jesus has more pressing issues in the world than making sure his own Mother's university puts the ball in the end-zone with no time left on the clock. (He might have lost patience with Charlie Weis and Jimmy Clausen after we already won 3 games this season in the final minutes...Understandable....It's warranted)

The possibility of a Yankees/Phillies World Series is every Met fans nightmare. While its less-nightmarish than the 2006 NLCS and Carlos Beltran freezing on a 3-2 pitch with the bases loaded and two outs in the bottom of the ninth, I'm kind of dreading it. I anticipate two weeks of obnoxiousness that will rival that of a 21 year old Seaside Heights summer renter whose orange skin, pumped up lips and hair texture make me wonder if its Sunday at Bagatelle Brunch or a product of Jim Henson's Muppet factory.

But as these two baseball clubs are making their way through their respective championship league games and to that pinnacle of league . And as a Mets fan, I feel as relevant as the country of Burkina Faso in meetings of the UN Security Council. I mean seriously...What can I say? Its like going into a campaign and using the fact that your opponent has a few extra pounds as a issue relevant to voters.

I'm no Dionne Warrick, but is it fair to say that this is likely going to delve into one of those "culture wars" between two cities. Where every movie, cuisine and nuance is compared, mocked. How many "hoagie vs. sub" wars can we have? Or who the hell cares that I still can't figure out why y'all call sprinkles the slang term for a prophylactic. These are the things freshmen at Rutgers or any other New Jersey school fight about.

A Rutgers Scarlet Knights student could possibly be the genetic product of a mad scientist like Doc...But it's simple...its the union of a Philly fan and a NY/NJ fan (and I include NJ because the Devils...you know that team that seems to win a Stanley Cup every 5 years....Being its been 6, we're due....and not to mention Giants Stadium is located somewhere in the swamps of Jersey) It has a make up so opinionated andso brash that if it were a professional team, I could see Limbaugh owning it. But when it's Giants/Eagles, Mets/Phillies or Devils/Flyers, the common bond of scarlet that flows through the veins becomes darker than George Hamilton after a trip to Monaco.

Channelling my inner Gorrila Monsoon, I think the proper Mets fan decorum can be illustrated by the actions of the Ultimate Warrior in Wrestlemania VIII. A double Main Event at the Hoosier Dome, the first classic match pitted Ric Flair against the newly re-instated (and married) Macho Man Randy Savage. (whom after his career ending match against the Ultimate Warrior underwent one of the most bizzare comebacks in history - were you bitten by a King Cobra, Brett Favre?) The second match was Hulk Hogan vs. Sid Justice (more commonly known as Sid Vicious).

In this Wrestlemania (which like all WWF pay-per-views were not "paid for" but watched off of "the illegal box", which somehow the Peene family and many of our friends somehow had), Hogan and Sid Justice fought in a semi-even battle. But then Papa Shango (who was more famous and more entertaining later on in the WWF Attitude days as "the Godfather") came in to help Sid Justice.....Then, out of nowhere, with the match out of control...the lights of the Hoosier Dome went out and that familiar music blared through the loud speakers....and running down the aisle was a crazy man in facepaint........Yes, it was the Ultimate Warrior. (whom you apparently can have speak at your college campus or rent him as if you would rent a clown or a Power Ranger for a children's party or an "exotic dancer" for a bachelor party - in our case it was for Shenanigan's, a make-shift bar in a dirty apartment (that may or may not have contained a chicken) on Passaic Street in Garfield where I spent a year or two as "the guy on the couch". We were going to get 20 people to each give $100 so we could rent the Ultimate Warrior...True story.) The Warrior had returned to the WWF on wrestling's biggest stage to back up Hogan and bring closure to one of the most forgettable Wrestlemania's ever. (Tatanka vs. Rick Martel...c'mon)

Let's face it. The Yankees are Hogan. They say their prayers, eat their vitamins like little Hulkamaniacs....and they somehow always win in ways that make you hate them. We too were champions ("I'm Keith Hernandez"...) once like the Ultimate Warrior who have fallen on hard times (In our case - injuries and Ponzi schemes....In his case - liberalism). Think of the Phillies as Sgt. Slaughter when he turned into an Iraqi sympathizer. There was nobody you could hate more...especially when 3 days after we bombed Baghdad, he smashed a patriotic Ultimate Warrior with the Macho King's scepter.

Jimmy Rollins, because you're not with us, with the terrorists and part of the Axis of Evil. I call detente with the Bronx Bombers for the next 2 weeks. Go with the Yanks. I'll take my "New York State of Mind" over "Philadelphia Freedom" anyday.

If Mike Scoscia pinch hits for the Dodgers and they win (another Met nightmare).....disregard everything I just said.

A jilted Joe Cool is too hard to root against.

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Dear Mr. Fantasy, play us a tune....

Last night's Eric Clapton/Steve Winwood show at the Brendan Byrne Arena (to you youngsters: Izod Center) was amazing. This was my 2nd time seeing the greatest living guitar player in the world today. The first was the last of the 3 night CREAM reunion shows at MSG 3 years ago.

A few observations:

1. Steve Winwood had a pretty good face-lift and is truly "back in the high-life again".

2. This was the ultimate "trophy-wife" concert. I have never seen so many late-50s, early 60 year old men with women 20 years or younger since I had dinner at Cipriani.

3. Getting "Layla" at an Eric Clapton show is always an amazing treat. But, getting Layla acoustically is kind of like....well, disappointing. My friend Fred, a huge Clapton fan and a veteran of many shows, put it this way: "you go to see Clapton play the electric guitar...not the acoustic guitar". "Layla" is one of the greatest songs of all-time, hands down. From the opening chords of Clapton's Fender to the last note on the piano, its music at its finest. I would have loved to have seen Steve Winwood jam on that too.

Clapton on the electric guitar made the cover of the Hendrix classic "Little Wing" the highlight of the night in my eyes.

However in an oxy-moronic way, the acoustic version of the Blind Faith classic "Can't Find My Way Home" was unreal.

Whenever there's someone of this caliber on tour and you haven't seen them, skip the Hot97 Summer Jam and go.

And below is why you want Clapton to play the electric guitar version of "Layla".





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Hey, hey, hey....WHAT is going here?

I've never really been a fan of Jimmy Fallon. I always thought Tina Fey was the brains behind the Weekend Update team and my favorite part of Fever Pitch was when they played the Dropkick Murphy's version of "Tessie". But, however, Jimmy Fallon (check that: Executive Producer Lorne Michaels) is on to something with his quest for a ratings bonanza known as a Saved By The Bell reunion. (see the clip here)

Basing this pronouncement on sheer volume, no show of the 1990s was as quotable, other than Seinfield. (To all you java lovers at the Central Perk, not even close) "Saved By the Bell" produced teen-idols that will continue to stand the test of the time, because the show was THAT beloved by members of our generation. I was a 11 year old watching Saved by the Bell. From "Oh, Artie Boy...the bugs..the bugs..the bugs" to "Friends Forever". I wasn't alone. There have been many classic nights on campuses across the country throughout the years when individuals have stumbled in from a night out and played Saved By The Bell drinking games..From bad fashion to Violet to Stacy Kerosi (whom I think made out better than anybody on this show), it has as much 90s cultural significance as Pearl Jam and Magic Eye puzzles.

I consulted my good friend who was in college during the early part of the 1990s and "Saved By the Bell" wasn't a blip on their radar screen. The trials and tribulations of everyday life at Bayside High & in the booths of the Max didn't appeal to them....And why would it when the crews of 90210 and Melrose Place were snorting coke, stalking each other and wolfing down milkshakes at the Peach Pit? (That would be a great Food Network "Iron Chef" match...Nat vs. Max) The show gained its ultimate popularity and cultural significance in re-runs...so its hard to pinpoint the age range that the cultural significance has been at its peak. I'd have to estimate and say anybody who graduated high school from 1993 on have somehow been given varying degrees of honors from Bayside High School.

Hands down, Elizabeth Berkley was the hottest woman on the show. While Tiffani Amber-Theissen did go on to greener pastures (and evil ways) as Valerie on 90210, Elizabeth Berkley gave every male in the midst of puberty the gift of "Showgirls". (her "acting" in the movie...that's the equivalent to the kid sitting on his bed reading Playboy and having a scantily clad woman dressed as a bunny land on his bed...."Thank you, God!")

While I referenced it in an earlier post, the shot Frank Laranko & myself did with an overweight Dennis Haskins at the Olive Branch in New Brunswick is still one of the great moments in my life.

So many great moments have been ingrained in pop-culture, it is impossible to discuss them all. Hell, you can have a 2 day symposium regarding the Here are some questions, I'd like answered at the reunion (please feel free to add some in the comments section):

"Does Slater still harbor any resentment towards his father, the General, pushing him too much when he was younger and how has it fucked up his life thus far?"

"Can Slater & Jessie, perform "How Am I Supposed to Live Without You" for old-times sake?"

"Is Rod Belding, the non-bald Belding, who wanted to take the class whitewater rafting on a sex-offender list somewhere?"

"How the hell did Zach get a score of 1502 on the SAT when the SATs were scored in increments of 10?"

"Did the gang ever get to see the U2 ZooTV tour in the aftermath of the ticket mishap at the mall?"

"Did The Attic ever get shut down for lax policies when it came to admitting underaged patrons?" (you know Jeff was snorting coke back there....you just know it)

"Is Mr. Carosi dead of a heart attack?"

"Mr. Belding, how is your teacher's pension doing now that California is completely broke?"

"Jesse, did you hit the pills at Columbia like you did in high school?...I mean Bayside wasn't exactly Columbia..."

"Screech, when did you lose your virginity?" (tapes leaked by your alter-ego, Dustin Diamond, do not count)

"Is miniature golf still a varsity sport at Bayside?"

"Is Tori now getting drunk in biker bars somewhere along Route 66?"

"If y'all go back for the annual "Bayside vs. Valley" football game, is a reunion really neccessary?"

"Did your experience watching Johnny Dakota do illegal drugs translate to you doing illegal drugs, even after your appearances in the "No Hope With Dope" ads?

"Mr. Belding, can we see some pictures of your baby son, Zack, that was born in the elevator?"

"CalU...what the hell was the deal with that?"

I mean, these are obviously questions that someone would ask at a "Real World" reunion show hosted by John Norris.

Any show where the characters can get away with smashing a Lexus with a slap on the wrist deserves a reunion.

And I for one will be watching.... (with an after-party consisting of Bud Dry and "The Best of Firehouse") Thank you, Jimmy Fallon.

Gets me every time...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mZ7ZpLgkVxA


I'll be back in a few days to blog about what I've been up to....For now...Enjoy!

Where have you gone.....Kurt Loder? Our nation could use turning it's culture-lonely eyes to you.....woo woo woo..

Remember when MTV News had actually news (let alone music videos)? Over the past 25 years, I whole-heartedly believe one of the most unheralded members of the media has been Kurt Loder, the man we all know from his news updates, MTV specials on everything from UFOs to "Choose or Lose" (of which to retrospectives on music, political and pop-culture history. Over the past few months, I've become pretty nostalgic about the early 1990's from listening to the Spectrum (Channel 45) on Sirius/XM. I mean, 10,000 Maniacs, Pearl Jam, R.E.M, the Proclaimers, Nirvana, Jesus Jones, Axl Rose, Weird Al...Color Me Badd. It brings back those memories of "Reality Bites" soundtrack and Soul Asylum. MTV News (and MTV itself) mattered because Kurt Loder was a trusted source in a time where young people were marginalized in the mainstream media. In addition, they were able to present controversial issues at a time the networks avoided them like former juicers do to Jose Canseco at a card show.

The man whom broke the news of Kurt Cobain's death in a live-break in, Kurt Loder is now writing movie reviews for MTV.com. What a waste of his talent. The case could be made that Carson Daly ruined MTV, because "Total Request: Live" totally took over the channel and catered to music videos of the Hanson sect. Loder, a former editor for Rolling Stone, was obviously much more talented than that. So it seems he was phased out ala Ted Koeppel at ABC.

Have you seen some of the crap that MTV has put on over the past few years? Before the Hills and True Life specials (one of which wasn't the Jersey Shore I go to, I know and I love), there was The Real World. At the time, the show was revolutionary. 7 strangers...Picked to live in a house...and have their lives on tape. And the strangers were picked in an era where certain social prejudices and stereotypes were more prevalent. (sidenote: The Real World was one of those shows I wanted to apply to because I wanted to be the token Conservative who everybody stereotypically thought was a prick, but as the season went on would change the hearts and minds of all in the house....basically a nicer version of Rachel Campos. As of last September 23rd when I officially turned 26, the dream has ended) It was good TV. The MTV "Choose or Lose" interview with Governor Bill Clinton was a major reason youth were convinced to exercise their democratic right. MTV was societally more relevant then than any "Hills" spin-off or "True Life" will ever be. I miss those days.

I think the closest thing to Kurt Loder that I had as a college professor was T. Corey Brennan, a professor of classics at Rutgers. While much was made of his stint as the original guitarist for the early 90's alternative/pop band, the Lemonheads, his class had to be one of the most fascinating and interesting classes ever. We were able to write our papers on ANYTHING. At Phi Delta Theta, we took classes in the same manner that women go to the bathroom....in packs. Once "Rate My Professor" became a pre-req for choosing classes junior and senior years, not to mention I believe someone had taken him before, it was one of those classes where it mattered more that you took something away from the class, rather than the grade. The class was "Greek Civilization". Where else could you write about how Oedipus and Marty McFly in "Back to the Future" were both romantically interested in their mother and how they were in common? (which Frank Croce did) Professor Brennan is now on a 3 year stint at the American Academy in Rome. Kudos to him and let's hope someone writes about what Antigone had in common with Tori Spelling.

Side note: SNL Season Finale: After watching Will Ferrell & ensamble (Norm MacDonald, Amy Poehler, Maya Rudolph, Tom Hanks, and the human mutz ball himself, Arthur Lange, Jr.), I have a greater appreciation for the song "Goodnight, Saigon". It was always one of those songs that I'd skip over on the Greatest Hits CD or thinking what Billy is going to play next at a show during the faux helicopter opening. I've already played it a few times from the "2000 Millenium Concert" since then.

Side note two: Sal & Richard's "Tradio" calls make it impossible for me drive in the morning. I almost had to pull-over this morning or risk initiating a pile-up on the NJ Turnpike because these calls are so damn funny.

Should we talk about the weather?......Should we talk about the government?

Here's something to mull.....

During the Presidential Election, it was well-documented that then 1-term junior Senator from the Land o' Lincoln, Barack Obama promised his kids that if he was successful in his quest for the Presidency, that his two young daughters Sasha & Malia would be blessed to welcome a puppy into their lives.

And so we got Bo (and don't be fooled that it's named after Bo Diddley....Bo knows) the Portuguese Water Dog.

Now, I was pondering hypothetically today with my brother....Say lightning struck, Sarah Palin was the American version of "the Iron Lady" and Obama was defeated on November 4th.....

Would Sasha & Malia still have gotten a puppy?

And since we're on the topic of Bo...Does anybody miss Bo Jackson like I do? Growing up, there was no better athlete to look up to, no better Nike commercials to watch than those with Bo Jackson, and no better player in the history of Tecmo Bowl.

Got brass....in pocket? (or in your bra)

Out of the darkness...Into the black....The newest invention to come out of nowhere (or out of Kramerica) is a bra. Today's New York Post (my daily beacon of enlightenment) has shed light on the emerging revolution amongst nagging, biological clock driven women looking for a catalyst to put their life-partners back on the chain gang. It's not your standard mammary support structure that has evolved as tastes, culture and Madonna has changed.

We sometimes wonder whether the rest of the civilized world is passing us by. Coming out to Japan is the newest way to induce a marriage: The Konkatsu brassiere. While it doesn't have the diamonds that Heidi Klum did on her $8 million dollar support device, this bra has a few things that a woman could use to speed up the commitment process: a ticking clock, heart shaped oven mitts (perfect for those breakfast in bed mornings), and when a successful proposal is garnered, a place for when the diamond or ring pop is accepted to put it in, unlocking a serenading of "Here Comes the Bride" ("Canon in D" will be available in future models). Frankly, with all those bells and whistles, I don't think even MacGuyver himself would get picked off heading to 2nd base with a lady wearing that thing.

With the economy tanking faster than Hanson's career after the summer of 1997, conventional wisdom (& probably Dr. Hibbard) states that people have been re-examining their priorities. Instead of "me", there's a focus on being able to share in the joys of selflessness and commitment.

As humans, we hate to be pressured to do things we know we are going to get around to when we feel like it. Not to sound overly simplistic, but when your mom used to (or still) implores that you clean your room. You don't do it that second, drop everything your doing to go and do it. You do it when it's time. There are many reasons that the divorce rate is staggering in this country. If any good can be seen in this economy, maybe individuals will say "I Do" because they're in love and not because he fits some sort of checklist-like criterion, as well as provide the house in Sag Harbor and the token

Now here's relationship advice from the 26-year old who has only had long-term relationships with the only label worse than communism in a Giants fan's eyes: Philadelphia Eagles fans. I don't think we need a fem-bot bra to tell people it's time to get married. (but maybe it will come in handy in proper cookie baking times) I guess, when you know, you know. Dating is in many respects like the favorite game of my youth: Super Mario Brothers. You keep on going to different levels and through different levels. Sometimes you fall in the pit and sometimes you're told after you get to a level or two by the Mushroom-headed Toad, "Thank you Mario, but the Princess is in another castle".

I don't know what level of the classic game that the nuptual-catalyst bra would fit in. But, if I had to guess, I'd probably place it in the "Game Over" category.