City of All of Us

I am not a big Steve Earle fan by any stretch of the imagination. In fact I think the last time his name came up in conversation my response was, "That fat balding fuck is still making records?"

That being said...I love City of Immigrants. I think of my grandparents and their friends and their neighborhood - - the end of Center Street Joliet, IL...with a park, a dance hall, Smolich's Meats, Merichka's Restaurant and Lounge and the cemetery that holds their earthly remains - - all in walking distance.

I think of their simple life, paying for shit with money they had, living in a cinder block house, a wine cellar with homemade wine, various canned stuffs, lard and a wood burning stove my grandfather used for heating a little pot of wine to help him...uh, deal with us kids running around and messing with his shit.

I look at my child and believe his happy and gentle disposition to be a fitting legacy for Frank and Tilly Vesel. Here is hoping Alex grows to be his own man while at the same time honoring the memory of these beautiful folks who brought great joy to my own childhood.

Switching gears...there was some infomercial that pushed back the start of the suspended game of the World Series. How does a thing like that happen?

Scargut

Worked with Alex V on a new blues scale. My other student could not make it tonight. The boy and I watched the Hawks game. Ran some errands while cranking up Queens of the Stone Age in the Rav4. It was a nice night off from writing (although I reworked some notes for the end of MOI).

Watching LBJ make his last speech while popping a nitroglycerin tablet. This is not for me to say...but the poor bastard died just before the peace treaty was signed. He never got to see the end of his greatest fucking mistake. May we all have a better fate than Scargut.

And if I ever hear another president from Texas assuring the American people that we are winning in Blah Blah Blah-land what little brain-matter there is in my head will implode.

A Dream and an Ending I Can Believe

Thank you Kim for giving me Friday night and most of Saturday to rework the end of Matter of the Inquest. Changing the ending will cost me in both time and sanity but the whole effort is worthless with the original ending. I am blowing off some shit to finish but there's no turning back at this point.

Kim & Alex came back from the OF late Saturday afternoon and I took the boy to the Spookie Science Fair @ Faraday. We had a blast. The super computer dude was awesome and he took lots of time to talk with Alex and I about how to get started with Linux (I should probably make sure I spelled it correctly)

Had a parent meeting at Newman this morning. Helping the boy prepare for his first reconciliation. Dad gets geeked up about this kind of stuff proving that I am getting more and more Flanders as time passes.

D'oh!

Greenspanning the Globe

Once again, I have scooped the media…mainstream and otherwise. Here are Alan Greenspan’s comments before Congress today:

“All this shit was fine when I left. How could it all go down the crapper so fast? And don’t blame the fuckery on poor Bernanke! All that bastard ever cared about was inflation. He doesn’t know how to deal with a situation where there’s no new shit being made to inflate. I am gonna come back in a coupla weeks and I hope to see better solutions than poor giant piles of money into a sinking pit. Now if you’ll excuse me Matlock’s on. Fucking imbeciles! I turn my back on them for five fucking minutes and the credit markets dry up quicker than Andrea did after her boss had a grabber!”

Here's to You AKA Goo

Happy birthday to my baby sister out there in Northern CA. Remember kid, you're only as old as the crap on your MP3 player...so if you're out there listening to 'We Built This City' I can't help ya.

Actually, AKA Goo can blow the lid on a ton of my dorky past so let me just say - Love ya girl and I will now shut my stinkin' e-Yap.

J & S You Rock

Much love to Aunt Steener and Uncle Joe for organizing the trip to the pumpkin patch. Each year there are more and more children of the corn to whoop it up with all Goebbert's has to offer. The tractor did not get stuck and the unborn child of Homeless Steven and Mel K was probably happy not to get jostled about.

I told D & L's youngest that he was almost born on a tractor last year.

He drooled at me.

I drooled back.

Alex told me this morning, "Dad, I'll never be too old to go to the pumpkin patch with Joe and Steener."

Amen boy.

Not That Alfred E.

Kim and I were flipping channels tonight – something I don’t do very often but tonight I am overjoyed that I did. Saw both Senator O and Senator McC’s speeches at the Al Smith Dinner. Al Smith was the first major party Catholic candidate for the presidency. More on Mr. Smith here.

The one rule for speakers at the foundation’s dinner is you have to be funny. I do not want to list or analyze the jokes either candidate made. That is not my point. But seeing both of them rocking the dais, smiling at each other and at themselves made me love my country and wish my boy was awake to watch with his mom and I.

Not that it is all about me, but one of the characters in my story (almost finished enough to put together and have for folks as an early/weird-ass printing at an upcoming show)…Georgie’s uncle talks about working for the Al Smith presidential bid and working with Smith and the folks responsible for building the Empire State Building. It is the most impenetrable part of the book and still needs revisions but if I get this right this could be a satisfying part of the story.

Enough of that crap. Loved the speeches and even Hillary laughed at herself. She should still give every one of her campaign leaders a kick in the bag or box, whatever the case may be.

More Than This

Relaxing and in post-rock mode. After listening to news about the economy sucking the ass of something else's ass I decided to change my mental backdrop and listen to Avalon. It is a record I haven't played in forever but I still love the hell out of it. Here are some clips that capture the beautiful desperation of this little pop masterpiece...just scenes from Lost in Translation. So sweet.

Single Barreled and Barrels of Fun

This was a fine weekend. Kim & I went w/ G and L to a dinner party where I learned that my favorite priest of all time loves single barrel bourbon. I knew he was a divine and inspired man. Everyone seemed bound and determined to talk politics except for Fr. H and I. When the current election and state of things came up, our contributions went to either Tocqueville or GK Chesterton...or the occasional bawdy LBJ comment.

I wish I had the balls to throw out DC Liar's insight about President Johnson. I think DC once said, "That guy couldn't sit through a church service without saying cocksucker five times!"

Also this weekend was the first time since Alex was born that Kim and I went out on back to back nights. Thanks and much love to OD and Aunt Steener for making that possible. Sat Kim and I went phone shopping then had a meal at Eduardo's to discuss options. Incidentally, Eduardo's has the Templeton and the perfect sized rocks glass.

Golfed Sunday morning and watched every down of the Bears game with the boy.

Kim and I weren't able to watch Mad Men on Sunday (the one show a week we watch together) but we sat down last night and watched the replay on the On Demand thingy. I am beginning to understand why couples make the time to watch tv together (something Kim and I have only done sporadically in our 17 plus years). It is restful and makes you forget other shit you are doing.

In between all the fun of the weekend I made progress on the last portion of Matter of the Inquest and it was tough sledding. There is no template for finishing this sort of project and it takes a lot out of me. I sound like a big flappy pussy don't I...well so be it. The tv time with the boy and Kim was good for me.

The Dow went up a thousand pts yesterday? Do I have that right? Well, morale at my place is at an all time high too. Whoo Hoo!

Ice Ice Baby

Just as I was wondering whether it might be best to pack all my belongings and move my family to Iceland to escape the financial turmoil that has engulfed our nation's economy I read this

I thought the Icelanders had to be the smartest people on the planet considering they speak a language that sounds like this

I guess it's pretty cool since every other word sounds like they're saying "fuck"

Well now they're all saying "Fuck!" because their country is broker than my Uncle Ernie.

The poor bastards living in cities such as Hafnarfjörður, Garðabær or Fjarðabyggð will never be able to afford normal looking letters. I saw a list on the wiki of the 10 most populous cities in Iceland and it was like reading the backward masking on Led Zeppelin IV.

In an official statement the Prime Minister of Iceland had this to say

We have got to help these people right now. They can't even afford clothes...

...or hair...

...or scenery...

...or CGI effects that last more than a few seconds!

Cash and Carry

I can't make this shit up. The 700 billion dollar douchebag give away has been put in the hands of this dude.

Apparently, bailing out the economy is going to require rocket surgery.

Our esteemed Treasury Sec Paulie Walnutz must be freaking out going "We are so fucked! We are so fucked! Only a rocket scientist can save us now!" And we all thought the Bush administration hated science.

Where is Wernher von Braun when we need him?

11mph

Enjoy the offseason WhiteSOX. You did your best againnst a superior foe. Kenny W - helluva job and I will never doubt you again.

Did I say that last year?

The only breakdown I will offer re: the last SOX game of the year can be summed up by the number 11. No, I'm not trying to say the crowd at SOX park goes to 11 or any crap like that. Sonnanstine, just like when he shut out the SOX in April or May, had about 11mph difference on his changeup. He didn't have to worry so much about location and for a lot of the game could concentrate on getting strike one by throwing over the plate. Hell, he spent a good part of the evening out over the plate. It was the SOX who had to guess the speed of the pitch. If they guessed right - home run (see Konnerko and Dye)...but if they guessed wrong, harmless pop up (see everybody else wearing the SOX logo on their batting helmet). They had some good ABs but when you are a home run hitting club a guy like Sonnanstine can bring all manner of befuddlement changing speeds from 9 to 11mph.

Good luck Rays. I like Joe Maddon. They have an ugly ass park but a team full of young men who know how to play baseball (albeit with stupid fucking haircuts). My favorite team in the world couldn't have lost to a better squad in my useless opinion.


In the home stretch with Matter of the Inquest. The goal is to have a multiple copies of the first section (in dossier form) for my 40th/In the Can food drive OKB rock thing.

I was invited to a dinner party on Friday and when I found that Fr. H will be one of the guests I didn't not launch into my usual obscenity laden tirade about how people are no good and how I hate spending time eating with them when I could be eating on the floor in front of a baseball game.

Fr. H's homilies have changed my life and I got to admit, I am more than a little nervous about breaking bread with him.

Hell, I just need to relax and figure out which of the virtues are the easiest to fake.

No Rain No Gain

I am not going to say anything now about the results of last night's NLDS game right now. My attention is fixed on good ole SOX park and I am hoping this is not the last Chicago baseball game this year. I like the SOX chances today.

If the rain (with a little help from the "distinctive" tarp removal process of the one known as the Sodfather) slows down the Rays running game, and that makes a difference in the outcome of at least one game...

If it makes it look, at least for another day, that my beloved SOX deserve to be in the playoffs then Roger Bossard deserves a bonus and maybe the Lord, for bringing a little extra rain, should get a playoff share.

Hope the Big Guy did ok in the market...it's been brutal for everyone.

If anyone thinks that Bossard or the SOX organization is above a little home field shenanigans then let me say (like the pompous-overstuffed ass university guy I used to be) that this is your reading assignment.

Nobody ever said the Bossard family didn't have balls.


- - It is later and I am all giggly. Great work by Mr. John Danks and the whole SOX crew...stealing two bases in one inning?!?!? I haven't seen the SOX do that since 1959. I remember it well, it was my birthday and I had just turned -10.

Boo to the toothless bearded hag (and not the good kind of toothless bearded hag like the one that Mick Jagger sings about in Jumpin' Jack Flash) - this one was holding up the no-class "Leave the post season to us" sign. Yeah, it got you on cable TV. Now cable viewers across America know that you don't like the North side club, and you have a femmullet (sp? Jeanz? Melissa Ethridge? anybody?) Now is not the time for such sign-based bullcrap...now is the time to root for the SOX and leave the other side alone FOR FUCK SAKE!

Apologies to John Stewart...his "FOR FUCK SAKE" brought home one of the great rants of our time.

Gotta Love That Buehrle

Mark Buehrle showed once again why he is the greatest pitcher Chicago has to offer in any of our lifetimes (with the exception of the Old Dog since he or his old soul was probably right beside Mordaci Brown on the farm when he got his nickname)

Sorry OD, farmers, gypsies who talk the old soul talk, and people with missing fingers out there.

Out where?

Sure Maddox is a Hall of Famer, will always carry greater career numbers, is probably smarter than Buehrle me and everyone I know but he (Maddox) never accomplished his greatest feats as a Cub. I think the Maddox/Glavine/Smoltz Braves were amazing and do not hold it against them that they only won one WS. One is enough. Maddox, if he pitched on the Cubs during the 90’s in what was one of their crappiest decades in my less than worthwhile opinion, would never have even pitched in a WS. Those were the years that, win or lose, the question on everyone’s mind was “Did Sammy hit one?”

I know this is little comfort to my Cub fan friends but part of what I admire about Jim H. and Randy B. is how far they have come away from those days and what they have built now.

Oh, but back to Buehrle. Not as great individually as Maddox, and I am not so foolish as to argue that the SOX staff of 05 deserves to be mentioned in the same breath with the great Braves hurlers….but for one year (especially down the stretch) they were the best pitching staff I ever saw in Chicago, and the glue that held all that shit together was #56.

People forget that the SOX trailed the Angels 1 game to nothing in 05 and called on Buehrle to hold Los Angles Angels of Anaheim, Azusa and Cucamonga in check while the South Side bats struggled for runs…this was the infamous AJ steals 1st game

Buehrle helped steady the ship in that game and then of course in the World Series put up a win, and a save the next night.

Now Buehrle had a distinct advantage against the Rays yesterday because they do not hit left handed pitching that well. But he did not piss away his advantage. He pitched his behind off and gave the SOX a chance to steal a game if they could do anything with their bats.

Ummm, about those bats guys…

But it was a joy to watch my favorite pitcher go out there and give his all against a multifaceted and dangerous lineup like the Rays. Is it wrong to fall in love with Evan Longoria’s swing?

Probably, he’s way too young for me.

Go get ‘em Sunday Danks! If past performance means anything, this year’s SOX didn’t start playing until they pissed away all previous opportunities to win. Then look what they did!

…um, forget that it was against the Indians, Tigers and deflated Twins and everything is gonna be ok.

Good luck Cubs.

Sick But Ok

I've got a red face and f'd up nose that would make Tip O'Neill proud...until he found out that it was not whiskey related. Then he'd call me an irrelevant Midwestern pussy. Stupid weather changing.

But my Cub fan friends were nice to me today and let me listen to Game One. I was also smart and kept my fucking mouth shut about their Game One the night before.

Gonna keep my fucking mouth shut about Cubs/Dodgers Game Two too.

Watched the whole Rays/SOX game again before the Cubs took the field tonight. How about that Longoria? Who'd a thought she could hit the ball outta the yard like that her first two ABs ever in the postseason? Tony Parker better sit his ass down because his missus is the true athlete in the family.

Seriously, I like that kid a ton (not Tony Parker, I could give two shits about the NBA since the Bulls fired Skiles) and I really like the Rays. I don't know what the OC was doing kicking all that fucking dirt but it was nice to see Cabrera be a dick to someone besides his fellow teammates.

The SOX need to steal one in the Pimple of St. Petersburg and I have a lot of faith in #56. We'll see what happens when he takes the bump against those Satan-free Rays on Friday nite.

How Lowe Can You Go

So I sort of forgot how good of a pitcher Derrick Lowe is. I told everybody at work and on the interwebs that the Cubs will breeze through Game One with Dempster doing that goofy thing with his mitt and not even break a sweat.

I forgot that Derrick Lowe went toe to toe...

Towe?

...with the 2004 Yankees and cowboyed up. Sorry any BoSOX haters out there, I hope the memory of that series doesn't make you want to cowboy upchuck.

Now, sorry to everyone else.

But Lowe was a valuable part of that truly historic (albeit somewhat overrated) team.

Now the Cubs as presently constituted are no 04 Yankees or 04 BoSOX, but their lineup is as dangerous as any out there today in the post-steroids era. And Lowe made them look lost, with the exception of DeRosa's brilliant AB in the 2nd.

Was it the 2nd? It all went by so fast.

But Lowe, true to his name reduced those mighty Cub bats to too many dribblers and fly balls to the warning track. And how...

Howe?

...how did Derrick Lowe achieve this? He made the gophers and rats of Wrigley worry for their heads by keeping the ball down, down, down. It was over for the Mitt Twister....

That could've been a great nickname for Romney by the way....

Mitt Twister!

....I think I stole that line from a German commercial for Twister...Your kinders vill frolic mit Twister!

Sorry Germans.

But as soon as Ryan D started walking guys in bunches it was only a matter of time before he started missing up in the zone (exactly what happened to the poor bastard the one good game my SOX had against him this year)...and once he started missing up in the zone his evening was done.

Ya gotta be able to keep the ball down if you want to make a dangerous lineup feel helpless.

If you want to make your own team feel helpless, walk a bunch of guys and that'll get the job done.

This is all easy for a douche like me to say, and of course keeping the ball down doesn't prevent Manny from hitting it out of the park. That motherfucker can go so low for a ball he can dig a hole, go down there, stuff some more of that head hay he calls a haircut in his blue rag, hotbox the gophers and rats that lie just below home plate, hit the ball out of the friggin park and be out of there in time to miss another public appearance.

I still think the Cubs can and should win this series. Good luck to the Cubs, their fans and to Carlos "The Hurricane" Zambrano. Bring home a winner tomorrow because I got a feeling the team I love from Chicago may be picking up the pieces from a tough loss in Saint Pete.

I will say one thing in defense of the team I love...I hope Javier goes out tomorrow and pitches a whale of a ballgame just to stick it up the backsides of all those pundits who still think of him as a four inning pitcher. He has offered up some great starts, going late into games near the end of the disastrous 2007 season and this year as well. Go get 'em WhiteSOX! Win one for Dave Wills.