Now What Do I Do?

Today I finished watching the entire series run of Homicide: Life on the Street. I started with it exactly eight months ago and have done the math: 122 episodes, meaning that I averaged viewing an episode every other day. I loved this show so much: the characters, the writing, the dialogue. No wonder this is only the second show where I had dreams that I was part of the show, or to be more precise: I had dreams where the show was reality and I was part of the homicide squad. (The only other show I've dreamt about in this way? The White Shadow, of course.)

Tonight I watched Homicide: The Movie, which came out nine months after the series' end. "The one case so important, every detective is back." Stan Bolander, Kay Howard and Frank Pembleton all return, and the Bayliss/Pembleton umm, partnership/friendship is finally reconciled.

It's too bittersweet of an evening to write about this show in any way of quality, instead I'll drop a couple of quotes from the final season and the movie:

"I'm too damn sober." - John Munch

"Guys like you and me? Work is where we shine." - Stan Bolander

Schadenfreude

The Vikings were almost beat by Slingin' David Carr and the New York Football Giants, but actually won and advanced to the playoffs. It's no substitute for a Purple choke job, but watching the Dallas Cowboys lose their last two games has been rather enjoyable (sorry, Joel.)

Last week they gave up those two long runs late in the game against Baltimore. Very funny. Today in their "effort" against Philadelphia they got blown out by 38 points. Hilarious.

I'm sure everybody is quick to blame the late-season woes of Tony Romo, Wade Phillips losing his team, and also the antics of Terrell Owens. I have an easier explanation: it's the Curse of the Pacman. Adam "Pacman" Jones is maybe the most despicable person in sports, just read his legal troubles section at Wikipedia. For some reason, the Cowboys just had to have him this season and they went from being last season's NFC East champions and a preseason fave pick a few months ago to win the Super Bowl to being out of the playoffs. Pacman also fumbled away a kickoff return late in the first half today, allowing the Eagles to kick a field goal as time ran out.

The team that traded away Pacman? The Tennessee Titans went from being 10-6 and a wild card last year to being 13-3 and the #1 seed in the AFC this year.

Fire Wade Phillips? Sure, you just know Jerry Jones is gonna do it this week. Dumping the Pacman would be an even better move.

"Again."

There was nothing better to wash down the Sioux's loss to Michigan State tonight (UND has once again found away to shoot pucks right into the middle of the goalie's chest) than catching the last couple hours of Miracle on ABC. ABC? Yep, that's right. The same network that refused to show the USA vs. USSR 1980 medal round Olympic hockey game live. Anybody who tells you they saw that game live on TV is lying or had a Canadian TV feed.

Miracle? The always-underrated Kurt Russell was amazing. I'll take a solid Russell performance over a histrionic Nicholson one every time. And don't forget Noah Emmerich, who didn't have to say much because his facial expressions said it all.

And here's the thing. If you have a couple of rye and gingers in you before you sit down to watch Miracle, your allergies will act up. Ragweed in December? Yeah, it sounds strange, but when Ralph Cox got cut my eyes started watering. Same during the aftermath of the game against the Soviets and especially during the medal ceremony post-national-anthem everybody-on-the-medal-stand moment. Know your dosage or your cheeks will get wet with tears.

Vikings Choke Job Checklist

League's best running back fumbles three times and loses two? Check.

Last week's NFC offensive player of the week fumbles twice, loses one, and lets a snap go over his shoulder? Check.

Team's best receiver fumbles away a punt return, actually not a so much a return as letting it bounce off his numbers? Check.

A finally improved defense ineffective? Check.

Sorry, Purple fans, you are going to have to cheer for Green Bay to beat Chicago tomorrow night or Houston to do it next week as you know if the Vikings have to win a game to make it to the playoffs, they're not going to do it.

Also: Very enjoyable article reminiscing on the Purple's glorious choke job against the Falcons ten years ago. (If they win that game, they get destroyed by the Broncos in the Super Bowl anyway!)

And: Reusse catches up with the Weeping Blondes, who are even hotter with age.

Greatest Running Back Ever?

I was asked yesterday, if "Gail/Gale" could be a man's name. I automatically said "Gale Sayers", which fell on deaf ears. Oh well, it gave me an excuse to look up Sayers highlights on YouTube.

What A Genius

During the UND vs. Harvard hockey webcast, the Crimson's color guy stated during the game that both teams were doing better on their penalty kills than at full strength, his reasoning being that the skaters had more room to move. Then with under a minute left and Harvard trailing by a goal, they pulled their goalie for an extra skater. Color guy unleashed this gem:

"I don't know how much of an advantage this will give them."

And he once again brought up the "room to move" theory. If this guy is a Harvard alum, they should revoke his diploma.

Just Like How Jeff Is The Only Beck That Matters

I just heard a great Rufus song, "You Got The Love", on Sirius, so I went to see what Rufus stuff they have at the iTunes store. But you type in "Rufus" and what does it pull up? Doofus Wainwright.

I want Apple punished to the full extent of the law.

Happy Thanksgiving

I give thanks for Patrick Reusse, the best writer in the Twin Cities. Today's Strib had his annual Turkey of the Year column, in which Don Lucia was a runner-up:

He coached the Yankees of college hockey to seventh in the WCHA, then ran off assistant Mike Guentzel as the scapegoat. In mid-September, Lucia was a warmup speaker for a John McCain-Sarah Palin rally -- with polls at the time indicating Minnesota was a tossup.

For now, Lucia is strutting about with the No. 1-rated team in the country. Yet, no matter past and future glory, The Don will never be able to change this: He's the Gophers hockey coach who finished an amazing seventh in the WCHA and helped the Republican ticket to a 10-point defeat in Minnesota in the same calendar year.

How Do You Say "Consider My Mind Blown" In Spanish?

Found while egosurfing: My essay Best Band in the Land ... in Spanish.

I used Google Translate to determine what the intro says. (Hey, it has my name in it - you knew I'd die of curiousity if I didn't try to figure it out.) It reads:

Sometimes the truth has been so distorted that to talk about it an accurate invent a story. And unfortunately on the rocanrol have been dumped so many phrases sententious that what we really should care, music, is the substance of all the verbiage. Today it is dance-punk, progressive-house yesterday morning and secure the cumbia-industrial-pre-Hispanic ... At the same sector of the criticism of rock that has developed a musical based on the division of schizophrenic genres that separate the "honest "From the" sold "interested in the sordid biographies and anecdotes curious than artistic merit. How should we be surprised? After all, and Salman Rushdie has said that the rocanrol is very close to a mythology of our day. In any case, it appears that Bill Tuomala, author of the text to read below, originally published in the journal Exiled on Main Street number 27 and included in the anthology Da Capo Best Music Writing 2003 (with curating the creator of The Simpsons, Matt Groening) - felt that to rescue one of his favorite bands from the claws of the big trends of demiurge, should use their own jargon, to rewrite history with a little story put out of the kingdom's setback, recreating the myth of a band called Van Halen. The version at the Castilian, of course, courtesy of Erre.

Time To Get My Band, The Recount Five, Going Again

I feel the same way as Chad over at Fraters Libertas does about the Franken/Coleman recount:

For the reality is that no matter how much someone claims to know about what's happening and what the end result of all this be, no one really knows who's going to emerge the victor or whether the events of any particular day really matter or not.

And after the recount is over, the inevitable ugly legal proceedings will kick in, and the recount will eventually be decided by the Minnesota Supreme Court.

Tuomala 'Fesses Up To Mancrush, Obama Wants You To Get To Work

My senior year roommate at UND had a poster of a smiling Ronald Reagan above his bed, meaning every morning I'd get out of my bed and see Grandpa Ronnie grinning at me. Ugh. Geez, I'd think, who'd want a poster of a president on their wall? I'd only had sports stars and the hot chicks in those free posters you'd get from the booze distributors on my walls. The day that the Iran-Contra scandal story broke, my roomie took the poster down and put up a hot chick instead.

But a couple of weeks ago my pal Def Jeff made this photo into a poster and it's going up on my living room wall. USA! USA! USA!

(And on the day after Obama rolled out his economic team, two of my clients who were behind on their payments paid up. Coincidence?)

Game 6

Last night I watched Game 6, a movie I had never heard of until I read Don DeLillo's entry at Wikipedia. It deals with a playwright, played by Michael Keaton, who has life-long been obsessed with the Red Sox. It just so happens that his latest play is opening on the same night of game six of the 1986 World Series. The writer skips his own opening to go watch the game in a bar. Keaton's ability to run down a team (and hence himself, for always cheering for them) makes him the actor who could best potray the futility of rooting for a team who continually lets you down. His ongoing misery and its accompanying sarcasm is remarkable:

"Twenty-four game winner pitches seven solid innings. They scratch out a one-run lead. (Shrugs) Of course he gets a blister."

"Sure. Of course you put Greenwell up when you got Baylor on the bench!"

"Of course Greenwell strikes out!"

The movie clocks in at under ninety minutes. Solid.

"Coffee Is For Closers."

Alec Baldwin being totally fucking awesome in Glengarry Glen Ross.

To my twenty-something friend who once said Charlie Kaufman is the greatest screenwriter ever: Check out David Mamet. (And a century's worth of other great screenwriters.) Oh, and for funny movies Harold Ramis tops Kaufman and it's not even close.

As to Baldwin's performance: I once was told that I sounded like "a fucking faggot" by some asshole client rep back when I had a real job. And you wonder why I don't look at the construction industry with such "it gets in your blood" wonder.

Russian Player: We very much like Elton John in the Soviet Union.
Curtis Jackson: I'm into the Funkadelic myself.
Russian Player: Funkawhat?

A few weeks ago I bought Funkadelic's second album, today I got their debut one.

In Rock Dreams, Jimi Hendrix famously tells a New York Times reporter that he's from Mars. Which leaves me wondering exactly what planet Funkadelic was from. These albums are quite the trip...

The Charms Of Northeast

I work at a client's in Northeast Minneapolis every Tuesday late afternoon. Every few weeks, the paperwork pile is such that I'm there past six p.m. These days are unique for mel as there is a church in the neighborhood that rings its bells every day at six p.m.

It's hard to put into words, but the sound of these bells is quite special. I have nothing like it here in my south Minneapolis neighborhood. There is a church that rings its bells on Sunday morning, but I'm not up until the crack of noon on weekends. And the civil defense siren on Wednesdays at 1 p.m. is only comforting in that we know that the thing works in case of emergency.

The church bells in Northeast have a mystical quality that is soothing, calming. Here's to working late every once in a while.