I come in class a teeny bit late the first day because of jet lag (my teacher knew I was late because I was his roomate and he left before me!), so I had to sit in the corner of the room.  I ended up sitting next to this man, and for the next two weeks was his partner in a lot of the class activities we did, as well as a buddy that you talk to when the teacher isn’t looking (funny how old habits from high school die hard).

His story is remarkable: he was in his 20s in the mid-1970s, when the Khmer Rouge controlled the country.  He was able to escape with his wife to the jungle, and in 1979, was finally able to escape to Thailand.  He told some of us his story at lunch one day; unfortunately I was sitting at a different table, and didn’t hear the details.  But I do know that it was a horrifying experience.

Upon arriving in Thailand he and his wife were able to get a plane to America, where they ended up settling in Orlando.  He raised a family and now has three kids, all in their twenties.  Eight months ago, he decided to come back to his country of origin, to teach English.  It was his first time ever returning.  He is currently a teacher at an NGO about a half hour outside of Phnom Penh.

On one of the last days of class, we wrote a reading comprehension story and read it to the class.  Most stories were fictional and funny; he told the story of his first day in America, which was spent at the San Francisco airport.  He remarked that it was very cool outside, and that they were fed chicken with a strange sauce on it, and only two scoops of rice.  Looking at the rice, he “knew they would go hungry that night.”  They knew no English.

I guess I’m writing about this because now I consider him a friend; we exchanged a couple emails since I’ve left Cambodia, and if and when I return, will contact him.  Maybe I’ve mentioned it because I’ve never met anyone before who has survived something like this; whatever it may be, I’m glad that I know him.

—

Cambodia is pretty wild place.  There are not a lot of rules that are enforced.  For instance, marijuana is an illegal drug in Cambodia.  If you are caught smoking marijuana, you are thrown in jail.  Cambodia is not a place where one wants to spend time in jail, or atleast that assumption can be made.

All that being said, there are numerous bars where the smell of this particular herb permeates the air.  One such bar has a stage with plugged in instruments; you can go up on stage and play.  I played electric bass for the first time; I was booed off stage by about 25 people.  There is also a chain of restaurants called Happy Pizza.  They serve about 35 different types of pizza: I usually got the Hawaiian, it I would rank 7 out of 10 on the tasty scale.  If you order the ‘Special Happy Pizza’ at Happy Pizza, then it comes out with a Special Herb on it.  A friend from Cambodia told me that her friend ordered it and saw a dragon come out of the wall; he ran all the way home screaming.

The point of all this is that in Cambodia…..anything goes.  There are laws on the books, but no one really cares to enforce them.  Although I mentioned this earlier, it truly does feel like the Wild West.

The road is dominated by motorbikes, with a few sedans thrown in and a decent amount of sports utility trucks.  I’m told by a teacher that the trucks are all stolen from the Middle East: they are primarily Hummers, Lexus trucks, and Land Rovers.

There aren’t any traffic rules; people drive on the wrong side of the street, sideways through traffic, whatever.  It all kind of works out; the only real problem are the above mentioned trucks.

Its not uncommon to see a Hummer go barreling up a busy street on the wrong side of the road, wreaking havoc for anyone in the way.  Bad driving doesn’t even begin to describe it; I would call it murderous.  The mentality of the trucks is this: I am bigger than you, and you are in my way, therefore, I will drive directly at you.  Again…….there really aren’t any rules for this stuff.  Everything just sort of flies by the pants.

One interesting thing about the people Southeast Asia: they love fried chicken.  When I saw the sign for Louisiana Fried Chicken in Phnom Penh, I just figured it was geared towards Westerners.  But I’ve been told that actually American style fried chicken is a big thing here.  Families go out and eat it with forks and knives.  And everytime I walked by LFC, as it was called on its front door, it was filled with Cambodians.

There are KFCs EVERYWHERE out here.  Back home in Boston, the only one I remember was in Allston, right near Twin Donuts.  There may have been on in Central Square.  And there was a Popeyes in Kenmore Square, near Fenway Park.

But out here…..KFC rules.  I never would have thought.  Speaking of which…….

There is Corn on the Cob everywhere out here!  Its insane: if there was one type of food that I figured would be kissed goodbye upon moving out here, it would be the almost obnoxiously American corn on the cob.  But there is no escaping Corn on the Cob, whether one is Cambodia or Vietnam.

Pushcarts sell corn on the cob grilled on the street, for something like 15 cents a pop.  Fresh popcorn is to be had on the street everywhere!  I still haven’t gotten any (I’ve never been a big fan really), but it starting to look good.  I might have to take a gander…..

Before I go, here are some assorted picks of Phnom Penh.  I’ll be back with more stories.

Until Next Time,

Greg

Well, I’ve been in Vietnam for about a week now; I’m still adjusting to the huge city that is Ho Chi Minh, or Saigon.  Before it becomes distant memories, I want to record my experiences in Cambodia.

Cambodia, or Kampuchia as it is known in Southeast Asia, is still essentially an undeveloped country.  There are no trains, like in other countries.  As one teacher of mine described it, it is pre-industrial.

For my first two weeks here in Asia, I was in Phnom Penh, the capital of Cambodia.  It is the only real city in the country.  It is relatively small; about 2 million people live in the city.  After living there for two weeks, I definitely sensed a small town vibe.

On our first day, the Sunday after flying in, we were arranged to have a group get together with the other people studying.  A Tuk-Tuk came by and picked up myself and my roomate: we were driven to a temple in the middle of the city to meet the other students, and see some sights.  The first place we stopped at was a temple in the middle of the city.  We had to climb a hill that was a few hundred feet: it is the highest point in the ciy.

The monkeys you see in the pictures above run around the temple.  A guy walks around selling a plant that they eat.  I bought some for about 12 cents American; it was cool feeding them.

Monkeys are like little people when you see them up close; there aren’t a lot in Massachusetts, so this was a new thing for me.  Its really amazing; they’re facial expresssions are very human-like.  And when they grab stuff from your hands, it feels like they’re slapping you five!

The plants that we were feeding them were edible: they tasted chalky.  There were a bunch of kids running around pointing to their mouths.  When I gave one to a girl, I was bombarded about 15 more little kids.  I threw them my leaves before I was swallowed whole by little children.

Other highlights: there was a really, really fat monkey sitting motionless.  Someone said it was a pregnant girl monkey; to me, it just looked like a lazy fat monkey.  Guess I’ll never know for sure.

Other assorted stories from Cambodia:

Teachers and Class:

Classes started on the Monday: it was like time-travelling back to the fourth grade: grammar lessons!  I actually enjoyed them.

One of our teachers was interesting, to say the least:  he is 73 years old, and claims to have lived in Asia for 56 years, since 1953.  He also claims to speak six different forms of English and to have lived in over 50 countries.  And he informed us all that he was deported from the U.S. in the 1970s for anti-Vietnam war activities.

When I asked him where he lived the longest, he gave me the following answer:  “Well, the longest I lived anywhere was Taiwan……I was there 11 months, I had a good job, then the f**king government got all messed up…..but yah, that was a good thing there.”

So in 56 years he never stayed anywhere more than a year.

Such are the ex-pats you meet in Southeast Asia.  For the most part, we learned about fairy tales in his class, and how to relate them to different cultures.  Also, English phonemics, quite possibly the most boring subject in the world, aside from Paint Drying 101.

My classmates were a smorgasbord from America, with a spattering of Australians: two Chicago natives, two Wisconsin natives, and two Melbourne natives, and a couple from London.  Also represented were El Paso, Texas, San Fran, Orlando, Alabama, Long Island and Conneticutt.

Eight of us were Vietnam bound; 6 Thailand bound; and three were heading to different cities throughout China.

Together we learned how to control a classroom and how to phometically break up English grammar.

—

In Cambodia, the language is Khmer: it is pronounced Ka-Mai, as in “my”.

The food in Cambodia is Khmer: pronounced Ka-Meer.

The culture is Khmer, pronounced like the food.

The Khmer language looks a little bit like Arabic, or Hebrew: it is very hard to read, and there are no breaks between words.  All words are connected with no spaces.

The word for Thank You in Khmer is pronounced Akun.  That’s the only word I remember.

TO BE FINISHED ASAP

Hey There,

So as you probably know, if you’re a friend of mine, I have moved to Asia to teach English.  Specifically, I have moved to the city of Saigon, known officially as Ho Chi Minh City, to teach English.  I have been here for a little over two weeks now: my first two weeks were spent in Phnom Penh, Cambodia.  I have only been here in Saigon for three days.

As would be expected, my first night in Cambodia was, well, a little shocking.  I had just spent over 24 hours traveling around the world: starting at 8:2o on a Friday morning, I was dropped off my parents and sister at Logan Airport in Boston.  From there, I took a 45 minute flight to JFK in New York.  I sat in JFK for about 4 hours: I started typing a  blog post in a Word Doc (which I didn’t like and won’t be publishing), I ate some really expensive, fairly crappy food, I listened to half of a podcast by Adam Carolla (one of his CarCasts, about motorcycles), and I read a decent chunk of a Chuck Klosterman book, Killing Yourself to Live.

Then I jumped on a plane for Seoul, South Korea, on Korea Air.  The next thirteen hours are something of a blur to me: I watched a few movies (Dog Day Afternoon….which I had never seen before and was awesome!  Love that Pacino…..and Cezale!; Taken, which was good, but not as good as Man on Fire [very similar movies], the new Star Trek, which I really didn’t like….I’m convinced that I’m just not a Star Trek guy, and never will be.), I played a lot of electronic backgammon, I watched some Everybody Loves Raymond, I went to the bathroom a few times, stretched my legs, ate two of the crappiest meals of my life, ate one of the tastiest pork buns of my life, tried to sleep with my hanging my head vertically forward, and also by leaning my head on my neighbor’s shoulder without him noticing, and pretty much went stir crazy and started thinking insane thoughts to myself.

Flying for 13 hours……..you haven’t lived until you’ve tried it!

After a flight that long, its almost like the whole Shawshank Redemption thing: you get used to those walls around you, and eventually, you need them.  I really didn’t even want to go out into the real world upon landing.

But I did…..and was greeted by a bunch of Koreans wearing face masks, checking my forms to see if I had been sick in the last two weeks.  They didn’t seem to care once they heard I was heading to Cambodia.

Then I walked to my gate and waited in the Seoul Airport for about 4o minutes.  I remember drinking a strawberry shake, and I remember that it was reported to be 80 degrees outside.  That’s really all I remember.

Then we boarded another Korea Air flight to Phnom Penh: 5 more hours!  I got some sleep that was really crappy, and makes you feel disjointed and groggy.  I ate another crappy meal.  I filled out my visa application.  And finally, after 5 hours……Phnom Penh!

So yah….I was pretty out of it by the time I landed.

I met two girls who were both taking the same teaching class as me, Marguerite and Kathryn.   Together we wandered into the tropical night to find our transporters, who were supposed to be at a Dairy Queen.  I couldn’t find the Dairy Queen in my state of weirdness, but eventually, we found our drivers.  Marguerite was from Alabama; we talked a little Southern Culture.

Before landing in Cambodia, I had been told by a friend to mind my P’s and Q’s, because according to her, it was “really ghetto.”  That’s all I was really thinking about as we drove in our minivan into the city, and I stared out the window at piles of trash on the sidewalks and people riding around on bikes.  I’ll be honest; it was a little unnerving.

When we got to the OK Guesthouse, it turned out I wasn’t staying there: I was living with some dude named Ron, who showed up on his motorbike and looked to be in his late fifties.  Umm….okay.

Upon arriving at Ron’s house, he gave me the tour of my bedroom, and most notably, the bathroom.  As far as I can remember, this is how the bathroom part of the tour went:

Leading me to the far side of the kitchen, near the sink, Rick opens the door.

I stare in, seeing a toilet bowl with no flush……and nothing else.

Ron: “Now…..this is an Asian toilet.  The seat comes down like this (slamming plastic toilet seat onto porcelain rim).  We don’t use toilet paper out here…..right here you got your butt cleaner (picking up a hose attached to the wall, with a controlled nozzle).  It doesn’t have a flush…….use the butt cleaner to get anything down, and if that doesn’t work (reaching down and grabbing a small purple bucket), you use the bucket.  Don’t worry……just keep giving it the bucket and hose, and eventually everything will go down.”

Me: “Umm…..okay.  Got it!”

And that was my first night in Asia.

—

But it got better.  The next day I went out with the other student living in Ron’s house, Matt.  Matt is Australian: we spent about an hour shooting the shit, or as he called it, “having a guest bag.”

We hit the streets at about 10:30 AM.  We got some really good grub for 1$ American.  We walked around.  It was sunny and hot.

Later in the day the whole gang got together: we got to know one another while seeing some of the touristy sites, such as a temple with a lot of monkeys running around (and one fat monkey sitting motionless) and the palace where the king lives.  We were told by one of the teachers with us that the king spends some time living at the palace, some time living in the South of France, and some time living at the palace of Kim Jong Il in North Korea.  Apparently Cambodia and North Korea are pretty good friends.

Later on that evening, we all ate dinner at a sort of fancy restaurant on the river.  All of the teachers were there.  It was at this dinner that I learned the following from Steve, one of the teachers, who hails from Ireland: Cambodians really enjoy automatic weapons, and carry them around in public; there is a shooting range near the airport where one can throw live grenades at live chickens, or purchase a cow and blow it up with a rocket launchers, or simply shoot M-16s and AK-47s.  According to Steve, Cambodia is “the wild west.”

But the thing about Cambodia is……everyone is incredibly friendly.  Guys try to sell you stuff on the street, but when you turn them down, they smile and laugh.  This is in part due to the insanely terrible past Cambodia has endured: in the 1800s, they were colonized by the French, along with Vietnam and Laos.  In the 1950s, they became an independent country when the French decided to abandon them and fight for Vietnam and Laos instead.  In the 1960s, over 500,000 tons of bombs were dropped on them by American planes, and fighting spilled over the border often.  In April 1975, as the Vietnam War was ending, the city of Phnom Penh was invaded by the Khmer Rouge, a radical Communist political party lead by Pol Pot, who had been living in exile in Hanoi to avoid being persecuted for his political beliefs.  Announcing over loudspeakers that American bombers were attacking the city, they evacuated everyone to the countryside.  Once everyone was out of the city, they were put to work on rice farms in order to “provide for the people.”

The Khmer Rouge probably had the sickest, most twisted view of Communism imaginable.  People were supposed to essentially become robots: anyone with any kind of education or independent thought was killed.  All government officials were the first to be killed: they were brought to S21, a high school in the city converted into a torture and death chamber.  They were interrogated and tortured, and encouraged to produce more “enemies of the people.”

Eventually, it stopped mattering entirely how fickle the excuse was: if you were different at all, you were killed.  All Vietnamese or Vietnamese sympathizers were killed.  Anyone with eyeglasses were killed, because they were seen as educated.  In the sickest of ironies, Pol Pot, along with the official who ran S21, were former high school teachers.  And they were killing anyone who was educated, or looked to be educated.

The Khmer Rouge ruled the country for three years.  During that time over 2 million were killed.  The entire city of Phnom Penh was emptied.  The people working on the rice paddies worked 14-16 hour days, and often died from horrible living conditions, too little food and water, or the brutality of the work.

The Khmer Rouge was at war with Vietnam for this entire time; when they invaded the Mekong Delta area and killed Vietnamese villagers, Vietnam invaded Cambodia and ousted the Khmer Rouge from power.  Pol Pot, along with others, fled to the jungle.  In a sad twist to this story, most of the Khmer Rouge officials who oversaw the killings never saw justice.  Pol Pot lived until 1998.  Today, the Prime Minister of Cambodia is one of the former Khmer Rouge head officials.

The Khmer Rouge was ousted in 1979, but the trouble didn’t end: people were still fleeing the country, mainly to Thailand, for a better life, ultimately in America or Canada.  The refugee camps were awful places, and often times were run by the Khmer Rouge, who were still active.

Throughout the 1980s, civil war tore the country apart.  Land mines were laid throughout the entire countryside, mainly on the border with Thailand, to keep people from escaping.  Today, there are still more than 6 million active land mines in Cambodia.  It is a serious problem in the northern part of the country: there is no good way to deactivate land mines in the jungle, and the people there have trouble living a sustainable life because of it.

Cambodia was still a very dangerous place through the 1990s; the war was officially over, but there was no real order, and violence was still rampant.  It really wasn’t until 2000 that the country started to pick itself up, and they’ve been slowly climbing ever since.

With all this in mind, it is amazing that it is such an optimistic country.  But optimistic is the only word that fits.  In the city of Phnom Penh, Tuk-Tuk drivers (the local taxis, attached to motorbikes) will flag you down for a ride; when you turn them down, they smile and laugh.  The people love love the fact that people from the Western world are visiting their country.  For a long, long time, it wasn’t even possible.

With all of this in mind, Cambodia is really a ‘new country’, re-born in 2000.  It is still very young, and trying to find itself.  There aren’t a lot of rules, but the people like that: they do not want any kind of strong government telling them what to do, understandably.  Its a great place to visit, and hopefully, in the years to come, it will continue to grow and mature.

—

On the Monday after arriving in Cambodia, we started classes.  At this point, jet lag and stomach problems were a main concern in my life: having English grammar classes could be hard to digest when either battling hallucination-enducing fatigue or explosively evil bowel movements.  But somehow….my notes turned out okay.

To Be Continued…..And Enhanced With Photos and Maybe Even Videos!

Until Next Time,

Greg

I wrote this entry back in the day, and felt like re-posting it.

This was the most frustrating blog post I ever wrote.  It took forever, and forever, and then more forever.  By the time I gave up trying to get out of the first round, my eyes hurt, I was drunk, and I was really angry.  I hated all mascots.

I wished I had finished it; at the time, I didn’t give myself nearly enough time.  I thought I would just finish it, lickedy split, and be done with it.  Instead, it was long and grueling.

One thing I do remember was really looking forward to deciding who would win between the Louisville Cardinals and the Stanford Cardinal.  Ahhhh, it would have been mind-bending!!  Do the cardinals compete with…THE CARDINAL??  And who is the Cardinal?  Is it the color red?  A big, giant, terrifying cardinal?  The essence of cardinals in general?  Or maybe just, you know, a cardinal from the Catholic church…like the evil Cardinal from The Three Musketeers!!  Anyway, I got burned out before I got that far, and now I regret it….

Anyway, here it is, for the first time on this URL, posted two years later.

—-

So I watched the Super Bowl last night: here are some thoughts:

Ben Roethlisberger should have won MVP.  No question.  I understand Santonio Holmes had a tremendous game, and if he was on a fantasy team would have made his owner happy, but I don’t see how he gets it over Big Ben.

For the entire game, Big Ben was Brilliant.  There’s no other word to describe his game play.  One Example:

Throughout the game, there were atleast five or six plays when Arizona defenders penetrated the backfield: up the field they ran, their mission to seek and destroy quarterback flashing in their eyes.  And what happened?  Ben avoided them.  This is a big guy, who’s not especially fast in the open field.  But with athletic defenders trying to kill him, he escaped.  And not only that: he made the completions while running away.

Even more flabbergasting is that Big Ben has been doing this his entire career, and aside from Steelers fans, all we seem to forget.

I’m convinced that Big Ben is underrated for one reason and one reason only: he doesn’t put up fantasy stats.  Last night looked like most his games this year: about 100 yds passing, maybe one TD,  maybe a pick.  Not great for fantasy stuff.  Compared with Warner, who threw for 379 yds and two touchdowns, you would think he was a slouch.  And on a fantasy team, he would be.  But Big Ben played a much better game compared to Warner, who had big numbers despite looking timid and afraid for most of the game.

As football fans, most of us, myself included, have fallen into this dangerous way of viewing the game: stats, stats and more stats.  But with football, as most will tell you, its never all about the stats.  Fantasy football, in many ways, has made us all less intelligent football watchers.

That being said, I plan on winning my fantasy league next year, and staying in the throne as Commish: I’m just saying.

But back to Ben: can anyone explain why Holmes got the MVP over his QB?  Don’t get me wrong, it was a solid A performance: great running after the catch several times to keep drives alive, and the spectacular game winning catch.  But I don’t see how that trumps Ben: he played brillantly, completed crucial pass after crucial pass, and he outran guys twice as fast as him.  And lets not forget: his last drive, from the one yard with 1(?) minute to go, was Montana-esq.  I would say his drive was on even-par of Montana vs. The Bengals: how is he not MVP?  I don’t know.

Moving on….

My Bitter Moment of the Night: Watching Willie Parker run around like a healthy running back.  Really Willie?  After an agonizing year of you murdering my fantasy season, who decide to be good when I don’t want you to win?  Your officially on my shitlist (and Willie officially could give two shits…..)

Moving on……

Commercials:  We should all just admit this right now: Super Bowl commercials have not been Super Bowl commercials for 10 years.  Ten years ago, everyone watched the Super Bowl.  The local Star Trek convention would call off the Sunday Night Meeting to watch football and commercials.  It used to be a cultural event.

And now, years later, its not.  The internet and hundreds of cable channels, along with DVR and OnDemand, have murdered this concept.  But we keep pretending the Super Bowl commercials are incredible.  They’re not.  That being said, I liked the following:

The Audi commercial with The Transporter.

The Coke Zero ad with Troy Polamalu: (I hate the nerdy Coke Zero guys with passion: not sure if I was happy to see them get tackled, or pissed that I had to see them at all).

The Miller High Life 1 Second Ad: High Life!

The Denny’s Ad with the Mobsters: the funniest, most creative of the night.

And the Winner, in my opinion: CASH 4 GOLD!  About 100 times better than I imagined.  Golden!

Moving On…..

Arizona didn’t just shoot themselves in the foot for the first three quarters as much as the dipped their feet in sulfuric acid and watched their skin tissue melt.  They didn’t have any damn feet left to shoot by the second half.

I’m beyond flabbergasted: how was the last play of the game not reviewed.  I feel like I should put som eBill Simmons-esqe “my eyes started bleeding” quote here, but my brain officially was shocked into not functioning properly by the decision.  Trying to figure out the logic of it hurts my head.

I’m slightly flabbergasted: why not take a shot down field in the first half to Larry Fitzgerald?  Your not even gonna try?  With a guy like that, you have to try bombing it atleast 3 times per half.  But Madden brought up an excellent point as the second quarter wound to a close: Arizona hadn’t taken any chances down field.

Is it me, or is that what their whole offense is centered around.  Seemed like they forgot this until the fourth quarter.

Alright, I’m out, back some other time.

Till Next Time,

Greg

Overtime in the NFL: I’ve hated this for years; glanced at P. King’s weekly column this morning and saw that he was bitching about it.

It’s not the sudden death that I have a problem with: its the fact that a team can simply win a coin toss, march down the field against a dog tired defense, and KICK A FIELD GOAL.  That’s my beef: all a team has to do is get into field goal range, after starting at about the twenty give or from a kick-off.  Eliminate field goals past the fifty yard line, and I have no problem with Sudden Death Overtime in the NFL.

Minn. vs. Philly:  This was the most obvious battle of the mediocres I saw all weekend.  Neither team looked playoff worthy: they each looked afraid to win.  Each team had one big play from their running backs: (Peterson on one where he busted through the line and outran everyone, and Westbrook on one where the downfield blocking was responsible for the touchdown; all Westbrook had to do was run around each block).  Besides these plays, both offenses were meak.

Matt Ryan was great despite losing and throwing a few picks.

Tavaris Jackson proved that he cannot win any close, important games, despite his legs.

Baltimore’s D is good.

The Colts are a lot slower than they used to be; they got outplayed in every facet of the game by San Diego, despite the close score.

Peace, I’m Out.

Greg

I’ve never liked the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame very much.

The whole idea of a Hall of Fame for music has always just bothered me. I’m not really sure why I’m fine with Hall of Fames for sports; I think I enjoy music and sports in equal amounts, but they exist on entirely different planes, which may be the reason.

It also may rest in the fact the music has more room for innovativeness (spelled wrong). Musicians are constantly taking the music they like and transforming it into something different. Take, for instance, the progression of blues to rock n roll. The musicians motives never changed, but the music did.

With sports, the changes are much more subtle. In the ’30s, baseball was listened to on radios, and it really was the National Pastime. Today, baseball is watched on TV or the internet, and falls into about 1,000th place for National Pastime (when you average out all 300 million people that live here….if you polled males between the ages of 18-35, it would probably be at number 3, behind football and internet porn).

My point being….the way we watch the game has changed, but not the game so much. Sure, guys are bigger and stronger due to better vitamins, more vigorous training, and ofcourse, Steriods, but the game really hasn’t changed much.

With this in mind, its easy to see why Hall of Fames work in sports. With a medium that remains fairly constant over long periods of time, a few choice players stand out above the rest. These are the truly Great Ones, and they deserve to be in a Hall. Ofcourse, Steriods has thrown this all into a tangled mess: without the consistency of ballplayers strength being similar over these periods of time, we’ll truly never know if Babe Ruth would have hit more homers, than say, Barry Bonds, if they played at the same time.

Ofcourse, there was always the problem with comparing the Negro League and Major Leagues before steriods came about, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

The reason Hall of Fames work with sports is that, aside from such issues as steriods, players don’t change much, and the games they play don’t change much. So when someone stands out….they Really Matter.

But music is not sports. Music has never stayed the same: 10,000 years ago, some Cave Man (sorry Geico Guys) took a rock and started banging it, and all the other Cave Men and Women said, “Hey, Great Tune! Let’s Dance!” (or something along these lines).

Since then, music has never stayed the same. It is a contantly shifting animal. Which is why a Hall of Fame for Rock & Roll is stupid. There undoubtably greats in Rock that need to be recognized, but they’re all trying to accomplish different things: the plane is never the same.

All of this is illustrated by three of this year’s nominees for induction in 2009: Jeff Beck; Metallica; and The Stooges (of Iggy Pop fame).

These three respective musicians/musical groups could not be more different. But beyond that….it says something about an organization when it takes thirty years to even induct these legends.

Jeff Beck has been on par with Eric Clapton, Jimmy Page, Pete Townshend, and every other great British guitar player since the 1960s. He is EPIC. How in the Hell is he not being nominated until now?

Metallica pretty much were the godfathers of the Metal/Thrash scene in the 1980s, and produced record breaking album sales in the 1990s. How in the Hell weren’t they nominated already?

And then you’ve got The Stooges. Their front man, Iggy Pop, is the Godfather of Punk. These guys created Punk Rock, a genre with more sub-genres then any other genre. How in the Hell did it take this long?

But these questions can’t be answered, because Rock & Roll is so big, and so broad, and so damn evolving, that you can’t catorgorize it. Iggy Pop and Jeff Beck are two of the most opposite individuals in the world, and they both influenced opposite end of their respective genre, but they both belong among the greats. Its deeper than saying, “Well, one’s a catcher and one’s a pitcher.” These guys aren’t even playing the same game.

And that is why the R&RHofF bothers me. Will I stop by if I’m ever in Cleveland? Probably. But the problem is that there trying to put all musicians up to the same standard, like in sports, except sports and music are not the same.

(Note: I really rushed this one.  Might brush it up later).

Until Next Time,

Greg

In the early ’90s, if you had a cellphone, you were assumed to be a drug dealer, unless you were a doctor, lawyer, or businessman.

If you used a payphone, you were probably just stuck somewhere or in need of help.

Today, if you use a payphone, you’re a drug dealer. And if you don’t have a cellphone….well, not only are you anti-social, you’re selfish. Because what if I needed reach you, but because you didn’t have a cellphone, I couldn’t? Huh….what about that?

So….yah. Things have changed.

—

Last week, it was announced that the absolutely AWFUL Detroit Lions GM, Matt Millen, was finally being fired. Only after the owner’s son publicly embarrassed his dad by announcing that if it was up to him, Millen would have been fired, did it go through. So its safe to say that if son didn’t make said comment, Millen would still be in charge.

Now, Millen was pathetic: his draft skills were atrocious, and he once called one of his wide receivers a ‘fag.’ Nice boss. But what surprises me more is the awful ownership. Millen obviously should have been fired years ago, but the aging owner, a member of the Ford family, never got around to it. Usually, I would chalk this up to old age/senile-ism. But its not; not at all.

Since this joker’s owned the Lions in 1964, the Lions have only won one playoff game.

You read that right.

Now, if you want the definition of pathetic, there it is. How in the hell is that possible? This team had Barry F**king Sanders! And Herman Moore!

Maybe Ford Motor Vehicles isn’t going broke because of the trend to not buy cars in this time of high oil prices and economic emergencies: maybe this knucklehead was sitting in on the board meeting at the wrong time.

Whatever the case, this guy sucks. I’m amazed he’s able to walk on the Mean Streets of Motown without bullets flying by him.

—

Speaking of Football Owners:

Throughout the first few weeks of this NFL season, the Oakland Raiders organization has been on fire. Like, literally; not in a good way. The whole place is burning to the ground.

Al Davis apparently hired Head Coach Lane Kiffin, but insists on implanting his own schemes into the defense, and won’t let Lane fire any defensive coaches. Yah, it pretty much sounds like a mess; this type of stuff usually doesn’t lead to greatness on the field.

But it got me thinking…..

The Oakland Raiders, for the last ten years or so, have been a lot like a country that you hear about in the news from time to time: North Korea.

Think about it….

The Raider Nation, located in Oakland, CA, is a rather unruly bunch, who paint their faces silver and wear ancient warrior type gear. They often snarl at the camera during games and generally try to intimidate us as viewers.

The Nation of North Korea’s population base is much more mysterious: we really don’t know anything about them, except that their impoverished, relie on foreign aid, and are Communist.

But these two population bases have a lot in common: their governments don’t take care of them very well. When was the last time any took a member of Raider Nation seriously? It’s like, “Dude, take off the war paint and put away the medieval mace….your team sucks. Really. It’ s not very cool.”

The highly militarized North Korean population has the same type of problems.

Ofcourse, this takes us to the leadership of each nation……which is remarkably similar.

Both nations are run respectively by Al Davis and Kim Jong Il.

Both men are old.

Both men have been in power for a long time.

Both men are vain, or atleast try to be.

Both men are extremely creepy, in the Howard Hughes type of way.

Both men are mysterious (ties in to H. Hughes).

Both men wear sunglasses at all times.

Both men have slick-backed black hair.

Both men have an unexplanable love for nylon jumpsuits.

Both men have been rumoured to be dead or on life-support.

Both men, in recent years, lost their intrigue as respectable leaders (if they ever were respected).

Both men like to pretend they are good at sports (Al Davis tries to call defensive plays from his penthouse; it was reported in North Korean newspapers that Kim Jong Il shot a perfect 18 while golfing recently).

And both men are openly poked fun at by the media, but also garner enough fear to earn them respect: remember, the Raiders made the Super Bowl a few years back, so you never know when they might get good again; and North Korea periodically makes headlines because they refuse to allow UN nuclear inspectors to visit their facilities, leading to speculation that they are, in fact, building nuclear weapons.

So there you have it……Raider Nation and North Korea, forever united in creating fear, loathing, chaos, and humor throughout their respective worlds.

—-

I have one thought on Jim Zorn, the Redskins coach, giving a “Hip-Hip Hooray!!” chant with his team after their win this weekend (which was a very good win, by the way).

Terrible. Atrocious. Preposterious (okay, its been more than one thought).

Seriously, does he know these are grown men? And that they play in the NFL? No offense, but I’m a pretty average joe compared to these guys, and even I feel, a little, how do I put it, silly, saying this phrase. I thought they outlawed after you passed the 5th grade.

Hip-Hip Hooray! Good Golly…..

Well, I gotta go. Peacers.
Until Next Time,

Greg

She couldn’t see over the shoulders of the large men in front of her.

She slowly tapped one of the men with her cane.

“Excuse me, sir,” she asked. “I’m just an old woman trying to get into my favorite watering hole…..would you please let me pass?” Kinder words had never before been spoken.

“Whaaaa??” the guy asked. “Ohh, I’m sorry Granny…..it’s third down, just give me a second.”

His fat ass blocked her path. She tapped him again.

“Please, young man, I just want to sit at a table…..I’m old, and my legs don’t hold up so well anymore.” She pleaded.

“Jesus, lady, its third down!” Embarrassed, some of his friends started to pretend they didn’t know him.

But it didn’t matter. As swift as a bolt of lightning thrown by Zeus himself, the woman’s cane flew through the air. The trajectory was perfect. He never knew what hit him. One second he was watching his QB take the snap, the next his head was getting slammed with a cane.

His face hit the floor. Beneath him, a pool of blood began to form.

She looked down at him as he bled. There was no pity. “Don’t worry about him boys…..his team sucks anyway. Asshole.”

At that point, everyone looked up at the screen. The QB just threw a lousy pick, returned for a touchdown.

With that, she made her way to her usual table. She took out her deck of cards. Ordered her Manhattan. Started playing solitaire.

In a far corner, a man sat back and laughed. “Man….I F**king Love Football Season!”

Pissah.

—

Its funny. I’ve kind of been pretending that football wasn’t happening. As summer started winding to a close, I wasn’t that pumped for the NFL. I was listening to random College Football stations on iTunes (Southern College football fans are funny, in more ways than one).

I was pretty non-chalant about Week 1. Set my fantasy rosters (I’m a first time Commish this year). Looked over the lines (but didn’t make picks). But besides that…..I didn’t really care that much. And that isn’t like me.

Ofcourse, I credit this to the hangover from last season for Pats fans. It’s like we ran a record setting marathon, and then tripped with 5 feet to go, breaking both ankles. Its hard to really care again after that, even if you want to.

So Sunday, instead of planting myself in front of a TV, I was running errands. Call me fairweather if you want, but for some reason I just couldn’t stomach the thought of watching football.

But before I left my apartment, I watched a little pre-game….and it happened.  All of the sudden, in a matter of six seconds, I was pumped.  It was like some instinctual part of me that had been asleep woke up.  I still had to run my errand (it was a mandatory errand, for a wedding), but I was back for the second half of the Pats game.

Ofcourse, Brady blew out his knee (I got a text as I was riding on the train that said “Brady just got Bledsoed”, which I figured meant he threw a bunch of picks in a row.  It never dawned on me that he might be hurt.), but for some reason, I’m not really upset.  I mean, I feel sorry for the guy, his career might never be the same, but he does have three rings, and I believe two Super Bowl MVPs.  Plus a Victoria’s Secret model girlfriend and millions of dollars.  So no, I don’t feel too bad.

But beyond that….I don’t feel too terrible about the season.  Maybe it brings us back down Earth: honestly, after last year, I don’t think anyone knew what was expected of these guys.  Win a bunch of games, but not all of them, so that we can concentrate on the Super Bowl, like last year?  There’s no question we weren’t as good as last year coming into the season.

So in a way, this brings us back down: now not much is expected of us, but we’re still very good.  That’s not too bad.

Anyway, I’m gonna make some quick picks, and then drive to a wedding in Vermont.

—

Home team in CAPS

KANSAS CITY -3.5 over Oakland:  KC looked decent against the Pats.  Oakland looked pathetic against the Broncos.  In KC, Oak doesn’t stand a chance.  Chiefs win by atleast a touchdown.

Tennessee +1 over CINCINNATI:  At first, this looked like the dumbest line of the week.  Now, after Vince Young’s apparent mental breakdown, I’m not so sure.  But Tennesse looked really good against San Diego; and Cincy looked like a mess.  I’m gonna go with the underdog.

MINNESOTA +2 over Indy:  Minnesota looked really good.  Indy didn’t look good.  If this was being played in Indy, it’d be different, but at home, I think Minnesota wins easily.

New Orleans PK over WASHINGTON: Even with Colston hurt, and playing on the road, I think New Orleans squeaks out a win here.  But look out for a sloppy game ( I plan on avoiding this one).

Green Bay -3 over DETROIT:  Here it is: time for Aaron Rodgers to get a road win.  I think Green Bay will: Detriot looked pretty stinky in game 1, and Green Bay played well.

CAROLINA -3 over Chicago:  One of the best games of the week.  These teams look FIESTY!  I like Carolina at home, but if they were in Chicago, I’d take Da Bears.  These guys look about even.

Giants -8.5 over ST. LOUIS:  Here’s my question: how did Stephen Jackson only have like 12 yards of rushing?  What the Hell is wrong with the Rams?  Good Lord, score some touchdowns already!  Anyway, as much as I hate to say it, I think the Giants win by like 20.

JACKSONVILLE -5.5 over Buffalo:  Buffalo looked really good last week; Jacksonville sucked.  But Jax is just too damn talented: I think this is gonna be one of those angry games for Jacksonville.  But Buffalo will put up a fight; it’ll be a good game.

Atlanta +7 over TAMPA BAY:  I think Tampa wins outright; but I don’t see the fiesty Falcons losing by more than one TD.

San Fransisco +7 over SEATTLE:  Yuck…..remind me not to watch this game.  At all costs.

ARIZONA -6.5 over Miami:  Good Lord…..what’s with the Suck Fest?

New England +1.5 over JETS:  P-A-T-S……PATS PATS PATS PATS!

Baltimore +4.5 over HOUSTON:  I’ll be the first to admit…..I don’t have a freaking clue.

DENVER +1.5 over San Diego;  Now if I was a gambling man….this would be my Pick of the Week.  San Diego looks flat, un-motivated, and non-chalant; not to mention the fact, they lost their best linebacker, and they lost at home.  Denver, on the other hand, was mass producing TDs like they were a cheap commodity made in China.  If Denver was the road, it’d be different; but they’re not.  Look for a route.  You heard it hear first.

Pittsburgh -6 over CLEVELAND:  I think if they put their minds to it, Cleveland can be just feisty enough to hang around with Pittsburgh at home.  But the main problem: Pittsburgh looks damn good.  I and just don’t see them letting Cleveland get into this game.  I think Pitt beats them up ( in a close game, that’s not really close).

Philly +7 over DALLAS:  Here it is folks: The Game of the Week!  On a Monday Night, no less (can’t remember the last time that happened).  I think Dallas wins, but not by more than a TD.  This game is gonna be sick…I can’t wait.

Alright folks…..its been fun.

Peace.

Until Next Time,

Greg

What’s this, you ask? Well, if you’re not from Boston, its one of the two decent wake-up programs on the air (the other being The Sandbox on 101.7FM, WFNX). I switch it up between these two because, honestly, I can’t listent to any radio program without getting sick of it after awhile.

Anyway, the other morning, during her Pop News Update, Pebbles mentioned that Bow Wow was going to be on an episode of Entourage this season in a “very intense” sex scene (just one more reason for me not to start watching this show again). Ramiro and Pebbles then began discussing Bow Wow’s woes: turns out, the rapper is trying to shake his image as “possibly gay, looks like he’s twelve, not a serious artist.” To quell the former rumors, he’s been reportedly trying to date hot chicks. And now he’s in a sex scene on a popular HBO show.

But here’s the thing: nothing is going to change. Supposedly, the guy still looks like he’s eleven. You may remember, he was on the scene at the age of 8 or so as ‘Lil Bow Wow’, which obviously his parents or someone else coined for him. Then, at around the age of 15, he changed to ‘Bow Wow’ to become more of a grown-up.

But seriously Bow Wow…..you’re not doing enough. I take you less seriously now that you call yourself ‘Bow Wow.’ Does Bow Wow sound tough….no, it sounds terrible. When you were Lil Bow Wow you sounded kinda crazy……now you sound kinda lame. Maybe if you called yourself Vicious Pit Bull or Rabid Racoon, then I’d take you seriously. But right now, I just can’t.

So if you’re reading this….let it go. Take your real name back….the one your mama gave you. You’ll get more girls, more street cred, and you won’t be forced to be in sex scenes to prove that you’re a man. Seriously, who does that? Chicks, bro: chicks.

So there it is: leave Bow Wow behind, and join the rest of society with a normal name. You’ll thank me later.

Peace.

Until Next Time,

Greg