Monday, December 24, 2007
As a rabid fan of all things Bourne, I spend most of my time thinking of Wareham as the Enemy. We do battle in high school sports,the Cape Cod Baseball League, and even, sometimes, at the Port 'o' Call.
Yet, this Christmas,we give the column to them.
Why? One of their own needs help, and that's a bad time to be worrying about where Head Of The Bay Road ends and where Red Brook Road begins.
I'm sort of funny about food. I try to avoid fried food, as you Americans fry too many things... including the French, if what I saw at that McDonald's place was correct. One of my favorite places in the world to eat fried food is at the Narrows Crossing in Wareham (they spice the bread crumbs.. best fried chicken I've had in America-above-the-Confederacy). It's also one of the few places on this planet we've been to- and we travel a lot- where my husband failed to finish off his plate of food.
Subsequently, we eat there a lot. Over the course of a few courses, we got the same waitress a few times. A nice girl, a local named Katelyn. Polite, charming, efficient.... soon off to college. She played for the local soccer team, which is always a plus to this former ball kicker. She was the kind of kid you tip well,and who you really hook up if you're in there around the holidays. She earns it.
I never got to know her THAT well, though. She worked too hard- whoever ate in her section certainly didn't want for attention,I'll tell you that. I knew her well enough to guess "UMass-Amherst" when I didn't see her after a few visits to the Narrows.
I finally asked the bartender if they had heard from her. Try to imagine the whammy I got hit with when he told me that she'd been diagnosed with liver cancer. I immediately ordered a double tequila to restore my equillibrium, took my supper home in a takeout box, and started writing this article.
Katelyn has good friends, and some of them set up a web site for her. Help Us Help Katelyn! There's a bank account set up for her at The Mayflower Bank in Wareham (396 Onset Ave, Wareham, MA 02538, (508) 295-2110). The family could use a hand- there are considerable medical bills to be paid, and a single Mom is doing the heavy lifting.
If you can give some, do so. If you can't, visit her site anyhow. Go to the Guestbook, and say something nice. Positive thinking has this power that develops if you get enough people into it. Remember... groups of people freed the slaves, defeated Hitler, fed Africa, cured polio... and not all of them were wealthy. Katelyn gets your messages, and they make her happy.
Katelyn got on the wrong side of Mr. Luck. She's a good kid- she may have served you your dinner, taught your daughter how to play soccer, held a door open for you at the library, made you smile as she accepted her diploma while you waited for your own kid to get hers (well...probably after yours... her last name is Whalen)... she's a typical kid you see about town.
Even if you don't know her, you know her.
So... why not put the egg nog down, fatty? Click that link I gave you, go donate some cash, or just sign the guestbook. Show some love for one of our own. If you got this far on your computer, you can handle the rest.
OK..enough nice stuff. Wareham is the Enemy again.
Merry Christmas, everyone!
In a cost-cutting move, Santa ditched the reindeer team and delivers all of his presents via the Slam Dunk.
Instead of reindeer hooves on your roof... the only sound you'll hear is the approaching smackSmackSMACK of Santa dribbling your present and throwing down your chimney.
Don't worry about milk and cookies.... Santa has plenty of Venison.
In related news... everyone on Earth is getting a basketball this year.
If Kobe Claus isn't enough for you... why not get a 4 story Ohio State Buckeye football lineman?
Silently set it up overnight, then watch your wife's face as she looks out the bedroom window into a bunghole that one could drive a Denali into! After she's done berating you, you can go out into the street and face the contempt of your neighbors.
If Dan Ackroyd went to Michigan or USC, this is how Ghostbusters would have ended.
(pics courtesy of Chris Mottram at The Sporting News, who got them from Elsewhere)
Bonus! A better quality video of "All I Wanted Was A Skateboard"... fromMusicJesus.com,nonetheless.
Saturday, December 22, 2007
I thought I'd share some of my favoritest Christmas songs with you before I head out to do Evil.
YouTube - PO' FOLKS CHRISTMAS / BILL ANDERSON... This is probably my favorite Christmas song... which is funny, because I'm not poor. I must have some poor ancestors, and this song must speak to some deep genetic soul I have that never quite forgets where it came from.
Yeah... probably not. That's why I'm not majoring in Psych or Bio.
MySpace.com - Done Lying Down - London, UK - Punk / Grunge / Indie - www.myspace.com/donelyingdown... On that page somewhere can be found "Christmas Shoplifting," which is also my favorite Christmas song. I love them all equally, you see.
If you call WBCN in Boston and request this song on Christmas Eve, 'BCN program director Oedipus laughs and tells you that the guy who sings it is now a bartender in Allston. "I'm heading down there this week... he'll be thrilled that someone asked to hear it. It's been 10-15 years since someone last requested it."
YouTube - Snoop Dogg - Santa Claus Goes Straight To The Ghetto... "Santa Claus on the ceiling, Jack Frost chillin', pinch the Grinch for bein' a holiday villain." Probably the only Snoop Dogg song that old people will like.... We plan to test this on Solon Economics,or whoever that CCTimes old guy is.
Eazy E does a Christmas rap song as well, but his is XXX. Most of it is a hardcore version of "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.""I used to believe in Saint Nick back when Elvis was alive/but all that BS got played when I was 5." We'll save that one for when we need it.
YouTube - All I Wanted was a Skateboard Super Deluxe... After hearing this song, I ceased buying sweaters for people... even my brother,who needs some. There is no bigger buzzkill than getting clothes when you want a toy.
Anyone reading this who actually knows me offline...I gladly accept sweaters, but they'd better be GOOD sweaters. Don't come at Nor'Easter Blues with that knitted-it-yourself looking sh*t.
YouTube - Christmas Lights - Peanuts Theme.. some dude synched his Christmas lights up to "Linus and Lucy," which isn't-but-sorta-is a Christmas song. The lights flash to the beat of the song, you see... no doubt to the continual delight of his neighbors, as well.
This was also the very first song I ever learned to play on my piano.
Friday, December 21, 2007
Here's my history class essay, due Monday...
The Best Americans Who Were Never President
Some got smoked, some cashed their own check, some never cared for the job, some just never had the time... but here are a few people from History who should have had 4-8 years running Les Etats-Unis.
Not all of these choices would be Good..but they would all be Great, in the sense that people might describe an explosion or a plague as being "great." At least we'd have been entertained, and that's what it really comes down to once you cross the Is and dot the Ts.
There are generals, pols, businessmen, natural leaders, con artists,visionaries, and men of great style on this list. It's just one girl's view, so let the debate begin!
Think of all the Cold War money we would have saved if we nuked Stalin in 1945. It would also have been funny to see the Presidency run from a tank heading east across the Ukraine.
Tell me this guy wouldn't have won like 5 straight terms if he wasn't killed (murdered?) in a very,very shady Jeep accident. If he were alive today, he could STILL kick most of our asses.
He did most of the heavy lifting required of the job,was well-respected both in American and European political circles, bled red, white, and blue, and is still viewed as one of the more intelligent men of a great era.
He's also on the $100 bill. 22% of Americans surveyed believe he was the President once. Every state has a town named after him. His recent Freemasons commercials were a big cross-demographic success. He'd campaign much like Perot did-as a quirky but effective outsider- and I'd bet that he'd be big on the Internet.
The fact that George Washington once never said "I'm not a homosexual... but if I had to let one man f***me, it would most likely be Benjamin Franklin" pretty much quells the debate,as far as I'm concerned.
Martin Luther King
MLK had the charisma, if nothing else. Those speeches he made were simply magic, and maybe he could have brought us all together if he didn't get moped out at a Motel 6 by some redneck whacko.
There's no Thomas Jefferson or FDR Day. Most kids couldn't tell you who Frederick Douglass or Eugene Debs were. Even the Great Emancipator sort of got shafted out of his holiday.
MLK has moved past all of them, in his own way. With the glorious 20/20 that is hindsight, I can say that History has given him all the props that a President needs. He just never held the office.
He's most famous for either the $20 or for getting smoked, but he was there for all the Founding Fathers stuff, and most likely would have had his turn driving if Aaron Burr wasn't so easily offended.
Even if you go to Harvard, kids... learn how to handle a firearm. It's better to be tried by twelve than carried by six.
I don't know if he'd scare the Red Chinese, but he probably could have won in the 1980s if he somehow could have snuck past Bush I into the Dukakis election.
"Only In America" would be a great slogan, and what says "American Dream" better than a guy coming off a manslaughter bid to rule the Free World? It's sort of anti-recidivism, with really cool hair. Most of us are here because we flunked out of Europe, and King would speak to that Boy Made Good in all of our hearts.
Also, the election that produced President Don King would be studied for centuries.. most likely even on other planets, once we made inter-galactic contact with other civilizations.
If things broke just a little differently in King Phillip's War.. and we're talking a tribal alliance here and a bit of bad military work there... this little blip of a man in our history books may indeed have been the leader of a powerful Indian confederation that moved down and attacked Virginia after clearing the crackers out of Massachusetts.
From there, it would be off to the west to deal with the Apache/Sioux/etc.. who would most likely hitch their wagons to the juggernaut if they had any idea what was good for them. The Spanish would be easy pickings at that point. If they could figure out how to grow and trade tobacco or cotton, they might even be in the UN right now.
The line between "American Genghis Khan" and "had his head chopped off and displayed on a pole outside Plymouth" is often thinner than you think. I even personally believe it was close in a DNA/ancestor/land bridge sense.
Pretty much the same deal as Metacom, except that it involves a Pickett's Charge breakthrough, a march on Washington, a Union thrown into chaos, a Confederate military dictatorship, maybe a Napoleon III invasion to bring us together under the strongest army... and it all spirals down to where we have an all-white Olympic basketball team that loses to Angola a lot... and no one is very much surprised.
While it probably wouldn't have broken down this way, it would be funny seeing James Longstreet on the $50 bill, and Bo + Luke Duke fleeing from the 5-0 in their "General Meade" car. Rap music would most likely suck, though...
A lot of people today fail to see that it's all eventually going to come down to the USA and China fighting it out somewhere. Dougie Mack saw it all too clearly in 1950. What would have come of us taking on China then? Sure, they kicked us down to Pusan, but we killed them by the bushel-basket. I wonder how many of their cities we'd have to incinerate before they tapped out of a Sino-American war?
I'll tell you this... if I'm fighting a billion Chinese, I'd rather do it when I have nuclear bombs and they don't. Also note that the Japanese had been kicking the sh*t out of them before WWII, and we beat the Japs into economy-car-manufacturing subservience. We'd also have a Taiwan to mess with them with.
Once we polished off China,we could turn on the Middle East and take all their oil... then it'd be us vs.the Martians in 2187 AD.
Wars aside...the Truman/MacArthur campaign would be the nastiest feud eva. Shaq/Kobe or Hatfield/McCoy would look like an orgy next to a Harry/Doug throwdown.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
We had to try photographing this dude's yard in the daytime.
Santa likes when people donate to Toys For Tots... and if you fail to, he pulls up on his bike and beats your ass with a stocking full of coal.
All of Santa's bikes are named after the reindeer. This one is "Blitzen."
You thought we were kidding about the coal, didn't you? Nope.
Here's Buzzard Bay's first real snow of the winter.
Santa rents out his train (which looks mysteriously like someone got clever with a riding lawnower) to Mazzilli's Farm Stand, and they take it around the building if you show up with enough kids. Not a problem with this Catholic family...
Santa also covers the bills by selling the occassional shed....
... or posing for Stacey's Merchant Marine Santa lamp.
Stockings for Gabby, Melissa, Stacey, the Colonel... and Sloppy.
We weren't joking when we told you about Stacey's lighthouse obsession.Here's her Christmas stocking.
I want to say it's a Phallic Symbol thing, but I'd hate to have to fight her before Christmas.
These look cool IRL. Little presents, all lit up... or my blurry photograph.
I like this one. The tree is a Scotch Pine, in pale blue lighting... photographed through a window.
I only took home 4 or so of these.
Stacey's cottage is on Lite Brite Blvd.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Cape Cod's First Snow Of Winter, 2007.
We got off to a late start this year, and so far- midnight- we just have a bit on the ground... but it's enough for First Winter Snow honors.
Sloppy has a history of not posing for pictures...especially where this camera sort of has a pause between the flash going off and the pic being taken.... and the flash generally sets Sloppy into action.
Thursday, November 29, 2007
As you know, Smurfs get very busy during the holiday season. Have no fear, though... Stacey now has a staff to do her grunt work for her.
To the guy I talked to last night... I'm not actually a real photographer, so forgive my difficulties with Light and stuff. I may be knocking on your door during the day this week, asking you to inflate these bad boys so I can get a proper picture.
Not a lot of people know this, but Santa only takes the reindeer out on the 24th. The rest of the year, he gets around on a Fat Boy.
You'd be jolly too if you could get Old New England Chocolate Egg Nog for $7.99 a liter.
What really brought Nicholas to Mayflower Liqours in Wareham (on Rte 6, opposite Sun On The Run tanning!) was the opportunity to get screwball drunk off some Tim Wakefield wine.
Why waste good money on French wine when you can get some Caberknuckle for $11.99? Longball Vineyards did wine for Tim, Curt Schilling and Manny Ramirez.. I think it benefits some charity or something.
Here's the link... see for yourself....Charity Hop Fundraising & Baseball Consulting - Charity Wines & Longball Vineyards
While I can live or die without Schilling Schardonnay, I'll smash open my daughter's piggy bank to ensure that I have enough money to get some Manny Being Merlot when Mayflower has some in stock. One must have priorities...
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Due to some IRL, Elle and Abdullah will be handling the column for a while. You'll be in good hands.
Thanksgiving In Duxbury
Duxbury is a quaint little town, 40 miles SE of Boston. Not a lot goes on here, but it's pretty.
Notice lil' Brady out in front....
The Four Sisters Of White Birch...
Not to be outdone are the Reds...
Duxbury is a nice place to spend Thanksgiving, as it is one town north of Plymouth.
For more Pilgrim credibility, Duxbury was founded by Myles Standish.
Duxbury was founded by a guy.. no joke... for whom 1620s Plymouth had gotten just a little too crowded.
Sadly, the little beam doesn't light up when you get mail, not does it do a foghorn
.. though I suppose such a thing could be rigged by the right tradesman.
Although it may be better to have him rig it so that the Scarecrow brings your mail in for you.
Sadly, this feature is only offered in Oz.
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
One of my favorite people, Coach Jeff Fisher of the Tennessee Titans...
That's from a few years ago(2004), when Tenny played the Patriots in the playoffs. The game was played in that tundra stuff that you just don't get in Nashville, which is why Elvis didn't build Graceland in Northboro, MA.
Coach Fisher is good. He was in the playoffs then, and he looks good to be in them this year... even with a quarterback who can't pass... a defensive lineman best known for stomping on someone's face with cleats... and with his best cornerback both a) suspended for the year and b) named "Pacman."
That's good coaching, kids.. and Fisher is a good coach, one of the best. Unfortunately for him on that desolate landscape back in the day, the coach on the other side was the best.
Long story short, we won... and towards the end of the game, Coach Fisher began to fascinate me for two reasons. First... as Bad Things kept happening to the Titans, Fisher wore a near constant look of befuddlement. You could tell that the game had moved completely out of what he had a game plan for, and that he was pretty much just surfing the avalanche towards the end.
More importantly to me, his beard began to freeze. I suppose it was from all the shouting... on cold days, the contrasting levels of warmth between the body and the outside air is so vast that breath exits the body as a sort of steam.... which condensates on the beard and refreezes, especially if you're continuously screaming over 60,000 people in a Jack London nightmare of frost and cold.
He also had that steaming head that you usually see only on huge bald brothers, but that was secondary to the frozen chin. Same goes for that Rodham/Clinton headband he's wearing. The picture here doesn't do it justice,,, for parts of the final quarter, this man was essentially the Cold Miser.
The look known as the Ice Grill is funny enough, but when combined with the perplexed look on his face as the game slipped away... pure Jungian archetype. Jung never got to watch much NFL... but if he'd watched the Ice Bowl that year, there would be a Bewildered Guy archetype.
I'm not picking on Coach Fisher, who I've always admired. I'm just noting the Look, for two reasons. One, winter is coming to Cape Cod, and winter will freeze your chin to your neck. Two... we've all worn that look before. At some point in our lives, something went terribly, terribly wromg.... often for no reason other than that's how the Dice of Fate rolled for you that day.
Overall, Coach Fisher has my fourth favorite Chin in sports.
Chin number three belongs to former WWF (now www.wwe.com) champion Sgt. Slaughter. This is the man who personally stopped the Iron Sheik from bringing the Islamic Menace to our shores in the 1980s.
This is the classic jutting chin, displayed by a man who knew where his bread was buttered... even if he couldn't see it because of said jutting chin.
Incidentally... if you ever need to laugh at an aged, drunken Iranian powerhouse ranting to whoever will listen, throwe "Iron Shiek Interview" into a search engine.
Chin number two belongs to Your Favorite Street Fighter, the lovely and talented Kimbo Slice:
Aside from the pleasing aesthetic qualities he enjoys with that chin, it also seems to be smelted from molten steel. Watch himwade right through 3 of this guy's best shots in this video if you want proof... YouTube - KIMBO SLICE. This one is bloody, so be warned.
That's a solid chin, folks... you could pretty much smash him in the face with a brick, and it would only serve to upset the gentleman. I'm pretty sure that there is absolutely nothing I could do to knock this man out, even Tazering him or hitting him with my Cadillac.
If I tried to tell you how much time I've wasted image-searching for that one perfect picture of Bill Cowher's near-Neolithic jutting chin, but it seems to have cowered the Internet.
I'll post a good-enough one in a second, but I can actually send you to the live action. If you have a tape of the 2004 AFC title game... watch Bill Cowher as the game slips away. Here's a good quote, from Wikipedia...
"Bill Cowher has been nicknamed 'The Chin'...because of the face that he makes in frustration or anger."
I don't really know how to say this in English or express it properly in a technical sense.... but, at certain points of the game where those Bad Things we were talking about with Coach Fisher were happening to Coach Cowher, his chin would actually protrude forth in what sculptors call extreme bas-relief.
If he had an icy beard that day, it may have been impossible for him to stay standing... and the fall might drive that splendid chin into the ground with such force that it discovers oil. Many speculate that his early retirement was financed by oil speculators, who plan to wet his beard and let him fall forward in various places in Siberia where they think oil deposits may lay.
Anywho.. lemme dig up a good Chin shot....
We try to provide video proof here on Cape Cod.... YouTube - Coach Cowher
Thursday, November 8, 2007
For just a brief time when I was a kid, they used to have a big race on Duxbury Beach every summer. They called it the Gurnet Classic Beach Run. It was a straight up-and-back shot down Duxbury Beach, probably one of the few races an elite talent like Bill Rogers or Alberto Salazar were ever in that involved making a U-turn.
More races should have U-turns. No, that's not where I'm going with this, but I just wanted that on the Internet somewhere. Look at the Olympics... no U-turns, except in the swimming events. It's wrong. The NFL, NHL, and NBA are based on back-and-forth movement of players and teams. The President's Physical Fitness Test involves a shuttle run, which is back and forth in nature. Why not the Olympics?
I'm a Mommy now, but I worked in a factory, as a waitress, and as a teacher. Running back and forth between stuff is a viable and important part of American existence.... and I'd imagine that the eggs don't bring themselves out to the table in Finland or Thailand, either.
All the better sports evolve out of human activity. It doesn't take a lot of imagination to envision where racing, boxing or wrestling came from. You could imagine where javelin throwing or archery would be handy skills to have in the caveman days... and once you establish an activity as being important, it's only a matter of time before people start betting on who can do it better.
It takes a little more creativity to guess that hockey is the natural competitive outgrowth of some poor Mongolian who had wandered across the frozen Bering Strait.... and figured out that he could get somewhere faster by sliding on the ice than stepping.... then figured out how to use a stick to push his supper (a penguin, baby seal, or whatever Eskimos eat) along the ice with him, as it was too cold to carry. Other Eskimo people see the success he enjoys, and get their own sticks to try to steal the penguin from him. Eventually, you get hockey.
Racing is more innate. Horsesand dogs do it. Running goes back in history at least as far as "trying to get away from the Mammoth." But we got pretty close to the time of Christ before running made it's true mark in history. Peep this: Battle of Marathon - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
2500 years have passed since then, but running is basically the same now as it was when the saber-tooth was chasing you. They have races as arduous as 26 mile marathons and as brief as racing your sister to answer the phone when you both are waiting for a call... hell, those were sometimes as short as 3 feet in my house, and sort of resembled the scramble that the XFL used to have to determine possession of the opening kickoff.
Boston is known for marathons, but Duxbury was known (in running circles) for the Gurnet Classic Beach Run. Run in late July on a flat barrier beach, it started and ended at the infamous Gurnet Inn... hence the U-turn we spoke of earlier, which occurs just before the village of Saquish (Wampanoag: "many clams") at the end of the mini Cape.
There really wasn't a better place to watch a race. Why pay $50 to park on someone's rhododendron just to watch the Boston Marathon go by as you shiver away an April morning in Natick? Trust me... Duxbury Beach in July is better, and everybody goes by you twice. You can sit in the sand, mix a nice iced drink, and enjoy the day's entertainment in style. Ayup... as far as racing goes, the Gurnet Classic Beach Run was the bee's nuts.
Of course, I was just a kid. No margaritas for me at the Classic. I was just enthralled to see my lonely spit of land become a beehive of activity. I'd circulate with my friends among the watch-the-race people who would slowly get sloppy drunk in our front yard. I'm pretty sure that my first beer was given to me- when I was maybe 9 years old- by one of the Eliot Lounge people.
We had some kick-ass races, from a running fan's perspective. Bill Rogers, Alberto Salazar, and Bob Hodge would have been the Olympic marathon trials in 1980 if Jimmy Carter hadn't decided to politicize the Olympic team.
I don't really run much, myself... I move with a sort of short-legged mother duck waddle that belies the myth of me actually beating someone to something. But other people do.. and, as far as Google is concerned... there is no greater authority than Bob Hodge.
Bob Hodge was a Lowell kid who made it to the top of the marathon business. He's won races from here to Japan. He'd have been an Olympian, except that he peaked right around the the Olympiad where the Soviet Union went into Afghanistan... so there went that.
Instead, the local jogging elite squared off at Duxbury, running to a lighthouse and back. Folks in Green Harbor and Duxbury still talk about Bob, Bill and Alberto going neck and neck down the stretch... although, rather than settling the issue, they chose to cross the finish line together in an act of Runner Solidarity.
Here's some Bob Hodge goodness:
I tracked down and hassled Bob Hodge... and he was good enough to do a brief email interview. A lot of my interviews die once the subject reads/hears my questions- WWE superstar Chris Nowinski is my biggest loss in this area- but Mr. Hodge was a trooper.
Stacey: What did the Gurnet Classic Beach Run mean to you?
Bob Hodge: A day at the beach.
S- Did you ever win it?
B- Sort of.... http://www.bunnhill.com/BobHodge/Articles/GurneT78.htm
Aug. 5, 1978 - 6M Beach Run, Duxbury - 30:39 (tied for 1st w/ A. Salazar)
1982 Gurnet Beach MA - 5m - 24:17 (mass group tie for first)
S- What advantages and disadvantages lie in running on a beach?
B- None. It is still one foot in front of the other, repeat.
S- How long was the longer version of the GCBR?
B- No one really knows for sure, perhaps six miles?
S- About how long does a serious runner need to recover after a beach race before heading up to the Gurnet Inn bar?
B- Depends, you buying?
S- Wish I could. The Inn ws flattened by a nor'easter. They ran the bar for awhile, but I think there's like 2 big houses there now. It's a shame... I liked having a bar I could stumble home from in the neighborhood.
S- Were you a big Eliot Lounge patron? We used to have two guys park in front of our house every year and drink like 20 beers each as the race wet on. They claimed to be "personal emissaries" of Tommy Leonard's, and yelled "Epic!" a lot. I know that they were allowed to take the official microphone now and then during the course of the day, so they must have had some clout.
B- Yes. My feet were cast in concrete outside.
I moved to the South Shore in 1978 to work at the RUNNERY in Hanover for ownwer/founder Sharpless C Jones of Scituate. They sponsored the race and of course Jack McDonald, father of the GBTC masterminded it. Eliot Loungers are everywhere awaiting the next reunion.
S- My husband said something about casting my feet in concrete once, but he said we had to be offshore in his boat. But anyways.... Did the GCBR hold prestige in the running community? If you lost the Boston Marathon to Alberto Salazar, could you sneer "Well, I whipped your ass in Duxbury" at him?
S- How'd you do at Falmouth?
B- I had multiple top ten finishes beginning in 1975. My best was 4th in 1980, 32:38.
S- Would a Kenyan runner enjoy the same advantages in a shorter beach race that he seems to enjoyin the marathons?
B- What advantages do you suppose they have?
S- Running from Kenya.
S- Did anyone ever use a Boston Whaler to sort of pull a Rosie Ruiz-style circumvention of the race route?
S- A beach seems like a strange place to hold a race. Have you ever raced somewhere sillier?
B- Mt Washington? A beach is the ideal place to race, at least at low tide.
S- Why do they call you "Hodgie-san?"
S- Did you learn to run fast while fleeing thugs while you were growing up in Lowell?
S- Do you think Marathons are dangerous for rookies?
B- Preparation is the key.
S- Did you ever bail out mid-race take a leak?
S- A runner I know from Duxbury ( SRR Profile: Tamara Toselli-LoVuolo) has been flashed like 5 times during races at various levels of competition, including once during her high school career. Do/did you have any race groupies?
S- Did you ever get any Jordan-like sneaker company endorsements?
B- No, but I did OK.
S- Have you ever run the historical Marathon-to-Athens route? I figure that'd be like a Jogger Hajj.
B- No, I wish I had. Perhaps I will.
S- IPodon a runner. Cool or Fool?
B- No ipod for me.
Wednesday, November 7, 2007
Every now and then, you need to re-title the old blog.
High Above Courtside was a good name, and will still be in the web address. Unfortunately, it's Johnny Most's catch-phrase, as well as the title of his autobiography. He deserves it for his own, and I merely wore the title in his honor for a few years.
So... one day, while I was cranking up a Marley.... I decided that we needed a new name... especially with the sudden increase of our staff, what with the babysitter (Elle) and the bookie (Abdullah) becoming more involved in the day to day operation of this website.
Ayup... we're going big-time now. My people are currently in heavy negotiations with the www.CapeCodToday.com people, and a nice, comfortable salary will be floating towards your favorite French-American sports blogger. You can follow us by the trail of the dead.
Honestly... I only started this blog to win All Star Game tickets, and I was amazed when I won that... I thought Diecast Dude would roll over all of us. Now, someone's gonna pay me to sit on my ass and type nonsense... it's good to be (blog)Ging.
Anywho... I thought I'd synch up all the names of all the blogs I do, just for the hell of it. East of Boston in Cape Cod Today will undergo a similar name change, although The Belly Check and Zamboni Rage (now found in The Cape Cod Times) will maintain their current monikers.
I just grabbed Nor'easter Blues out of thin air, more than one of my friends thought it sounded cool, and it should do for now. I suppose it will obligate me to go out in storms and get wet taking pictures for your amusement, but these are indeed the sacrifices artists make for their audience.
I don't think you have to change the address (for all 5 of you who have this page bookmarked), and I don't think it will screw up the Entry Alerts.
Saturday, November 3, 2007
The worst is still to come, but Mother Nature settled her score with me in 1991, so I would assume she's after the Republican Guard now.
Cape Cod is taking a beating, trees are down, there's coastal flooding, the power is on and off... but we've had worse.
To my sister... if I suddenly go offline, I'm most likely not dead. Chances are it's the power.
I'll try to get out tonight and tomorrow with the camera, but I have this aversion to getting soaked needlessly, and we've had about 3 to 5 inches of rain. The best wind gust I've seen was 54 mph, but my wind speed thingy is sort of in a bad spot... we may have had worse.
I'm about a millimeter to the left of Barnstable on that map. I'm right on the water, but I'm on a bit of a hill... I should be OK unless a tree falls on me- which, if you know me, isn't out of the question.
Not so bad so far... 24 mph winds... 9 AM
So..since I may not be coming back this afternoon.... I'd better get some more cranberry pics up. Again, this is Mann Farms in Buzzards Bay.
I actually met Keith Mann, who runs the place. He told me that I could go to their screening room to photograph that process as well... but every time I wander over to the bog, he's too busy to ask. Someday... maybe.
That's Keith on the water picker, stirring the berries off their bush. They float to the surface, and are then reeled in by hand.
Same picture? No.
I hope that they get all the cranberries in within the next 3 hours or so, because the rest of the day looks pretty f'ugly.
Run for your lives! It's the Six And A Half Foot Super Shadow Dummy. "Trust me,,, that's a great shot. You may win the Nobel for blog photography. In fact... I've never looked better."
Notice how Mr. Nobel not only got his shadow in the picture, but he somehow turned the cranberries sort of gray in the process.
A few links you might find useful:
from my friend Gail in Rhody.....