Saturday, September 20, 2008

Chainsaw Carving

At the Artisans Gallery, Main Street, Buzzards Bay


A piece of wood, to some...


... but not to Wayne DeMoranville.


Hell, no... this guy kicks ass. I didn't stay to the end, but I'm told that this is a Cranberry Pickin' Bear.


He's a chainsaw sculptor, and I think that more kids would be into Art if they knew that it could be created with chainsaws.


I don't care how badly it could maul me.... a bear in search of honey is the cutest thing at the top of the food chain.


There's a similar one to this near my cottage in the Village.


Nice beaver...


Just a man and his Banjo Bear.


This is actually one end of a bench the dude made.


Big ups to for the pics


No one carved this with a chainsaw, but isn't it cute? That's the Cape Cod Railroad Bridge that Santa is checking out...

Sunday, September 7, 2008

Bye, Tourists

We had a bit of a tropical storm yesterday, but it was merely a glancing blow. It happened on Bye Tourists Weekend, which is when most of the tourists go home.

We got to put up the Storm Warning flags.



This is Chatham, MA.


Some clouds moving over the Bourne Railroad Bridge.


The windmill at the Massachusetts Maritime Academy.


Not a bad boat if you can afford it.


A loon, which we know as a Daffy Duck.


Coastal churches favor the Nautical look.

I used to go to St. Margaret's, until I saw that the Episcopalians had this cool fisherman on the door. Sorry, God... I had to switch teams.

Fishing for striped bass in the Cape Cod Canal. The Bourne Bridge is in the background.


Morning Glory


Halloween comes early in Wareham.


Crack Rocks!


Sunday, August 24, 2008

Eggroll City

Before we begin, I should lay a few things about myself out on the table.

For stahhhhtahs, I feel- in the bottom of my heart- that the best athletes on Earth can be found in American team sports. I'm partial- I live in America, and I love our sports.

Two... even though I wasn't born here, I've lived here for such a length of time that "us" equals "the United States Of America," and will be used so in my column. I've been out of France long enough that I even catch myself- sometimes- rooting against the French competitor when they take on a Korean or something.

Three... there are some Olympic sports being staged this summer that I don't consider to be sports. Yes, I am aware that some of my favorite sports involve a bunch of behemoths chasing a ball around. I'm also aware that gymnasts and the like are superb athletes, in many cases far superior in comparison to some flabby NFL nose tackle or unathletic NBA token white benchwarmer. My point still stands.

Finally, and in spite of the negativity I may display towards certain events, I am the sportswriter here. I have a certain obligation to the CCToday readers in regards to providing hard-hitting sports coverage, even if I don't give a damn personally.

With that said, let's hear what I know/think about these here Olympics.

Micheal Phelps

He won like 8 gold medals, hasn't been caught doing the Juice, and seems to be white. He'll make a fortune in advertising after these Olympics. He represented America to the fullest. He swims like a god-damned Mako Shark. I wish him the best.

Of course, I think his medal count is a bit inflated. While I don't know exactly how he got all 8 medals, I'm assuming they give one out for the Breaststroke, Backstroke, Crawl, Butterfly, Doggy Paddle and whatnot. He jumps in a pool, swims for a minute, then gets a gold medal.

Not that there's anything wrong with the USA getting a bunch of cut-rate medals, but it seems akin to giving Kobe Bryant a medal each time he shoots. Phelps is a good guy and everything, and probably a boon to have around if you start drowning... but let's not get carried away.

I think that they should have one big race, where each competitor is compelled to use each of the particular strokes... and it should be like a mile long, in a tank loaded with pirahna.

No one can say you play a pretty boy sport if you have pirahna bite wounds.


Usain Bolt:

Homeboy ran a silly 9.69 in the 100 meters. That's f*cking insane. It's a sustained burst of 20 mph sprinting. It is as fast as a human has ever run, and we've been running since we were monkeys.

There's an old story about Neon Deion Sanders, the old Dallas Cowboys cornerback. Neon used to own the fastest 40 yard dash time I'd ever heard of- an ungodly 4.2 seconds. He did it at the 1992 NFL Scouting Combine, while wearing gold chains and basketball shoes. 

A 4.4 would be got-to-have-him speed commonly associated with a franchise wide receiver. Randy Moss does a 4.4.Ladanian Tomlinson may be in the 4.3 range, but I can assure you that there isn't a man in the NFL who can do the 40 in under 4.2 at the moment, and there probably hasn't been one since Neon Deion got old.

Usain Bolt does the same distance in 3.53 seconds. That's well over 20 mph.

If you actually sit down and crunch the numbers (as I... OK, as one of my students did once), Bolt compares rather favorably to several animals you'd think would be able to run him down. A large dog wouldn't catch him, nor would a crocodile. He can outrun a swarm of bees or a tornado. He's faster (downhill, to a certain degree) than pyroclastic flow.

If he were a tropical system, he'd be a Depression... although he would probably earn named storm status after 50 yards. While the fact that Bolt could outrun an Allosaurus most likely doesn't explain the creature's extinction, you can postulate a theory that they died because they couldn't catch and eat Usain Bolt's ancestors.

The famous roadrunner (17 mph) isn't as fast as Mr. Bolt. A coyote is as fast, though... faster, actually... which makes one wonder how come he never caught the SOB... especially when you consider that the coyote has the advantage of being Wily.

Either way... if Usain Bolt stole your purse, the only way you'd get it back is if there were a hungry cheetah nearby who was already running.


 Wishing I had this kind of grace...

 But I don't, so I just watch a lot of football.


Speaking of which....

The Olympics will continue to be second rate sports entertainment until some sort of NFL-style football is incorporated. Shoot, the Russians or the Krauts might even grow to like it.

Sure, the Asians may have some trouble producing an offensive line (although some of the sumo offspring could warm to the sport in a generation), but they'll be better people in the end for this dearly-bought experience now.

I also would like to see MMA fighting in there as well, and would even use MMA to settle war-type stuff.


Redeem Team

Our travelling all-star team managed to win the basketball Gold against the rest of the world. It's only really a story when they lose, although I'd like to use my forum here to voice my opinion that USA Basketball should be represented every year by the Harlem Globetrotters.

Shoot... at least everyone would like us again. I'd also love to see a gold medal game where everyone went home happy, and no one remembered what the final score was.



 That's what it's supposed to be all about anyhow, no?



Wednesday, August 13, 2008

Even Mo' Fenway Pics

More pics of our trip to Fenway, courtesy of my travelling companion

Blessing the Fenway since 1912.

It was the last night ast Fenway for my Manny below...

He does look sort of sad and lonesome in that shot, no?


Looking the opposite of sad and lonesome...


When Jim Ed Rice gets sad and lonesome, people get hurt.


Our Papi, who art in Boston....


Who wears a blue and red cape and flies over Boston... um, LA?



Josh Beckett was throwing in the 90s, but he got lit up like a fatty.

King George should be able to read that John Hancock from England.


An unexpected treat was the grounds crew smoothing out the field by a sort of synchronized raking.


As you can see, they straight waxed our ass.


We were a little slow on the camera work when they had one of those secret meetings on the mound, but we got this shot.


The view from our seats, which were $50 a pop/

Friday, August 1, 2008

Manny's Last Game In Boston

Cape Cod Today represented hard at Fenway Park for what turned out to be the Boston swan song for Manny Ramirez.

Stunning Steve got the tickets as a tip, which means that either A) they're stolen or B) he had the world's nicest customer.

Either way, he asked me to go with him... after Elle shot him down, but what-ev. We took the T from North Quincy.


My legs are the opposite of that.


The little guy is Super Manny. He was traded for some sucka yesterday.

Manny was my favorite Sock. He had mad dreads, wore his clothes ultra-baggy, moved with a shambling gait, and had that laissez-faire look you see on those tropical people. He also had/has a wonderful swing that is a truly rare combination of power, speed, touch, and guile. He also came up big in the clutch.

He was little Gabrielle's favorite player, too... for all the same reasons as above, except for the baseball stuff. Her kid sister Melissa's favorite is the mascot, Wally- who bears a distinct resemblance to the Cookie Monster.

Manny may have been a pain in the ass to team with, but I- who didn't have to hang out with him- thought he ruled. He'll be sorely missed and fondly remembered.

He's also the Enemy, now... my loyalty is dictated by the laundry.


Our previous surly left fielding slugger... Mr. Jim Ed Rice, who looks like he could throw 5 grown men around if he felt like it.

Surly Boston left fielder extrordinaire, Ted Williams, was unavailable when I started clicking.


Coming off the subway in a mad deep mob, then heading to the game by following the mournful drone of the bagpipes.... can't beat that, kid.

I actually have some better pictures, once I get into my email. Double S knows how to Zoom, and I don't.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Sky Of Blue, Sea of Green

Abdullah (on left, standing)- who, I should add, is a Catholic- never was without a cop less than 50 feet from him.


Chris, Marcus and Angela hamming it up at the Boston Massacre memorial.


The blonde is my nanny, Elle.


I love this shot.



Part of the duties of the NBA Finals MVP is to be the first crush for teenage girls in the team's hometown.


The kind of girl that you bring home to mother... if you, for whatever reason, need mother to have a heart attack.


Maybe the best picture that I took personally.


Most towns have a separate, distinct parade where a guy can celebrate being sodomized by another man, but this guy just couldn't wait.


No town has a parade for people painted pure Silver, however.


Enthusiasm was what we were looking for, although cuteness counted, too.


School, or unsupervised at the parade? These dudes made the right choice.


All the noise didn't bother James Otis at all.


The glasses were left over from First Night, but they fit the bill.

If he wasn't dating the girl above, he should be.


Double S tends to go for the Hannah Montana demographic a lot.

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Like I said... pretty much everyone was happy.


Steady mobbin' on the Common.


Hat, banner, leprechaun shirt... ready to roll


Goddamn right, little man.


Look closely, and you'll see that each one of these guys has a 3.5 foot Beat Down Stick.


It's hard goddamned work being Abdullah.


It ain't easy being Rajon Rondo, either....