The Friendly Friends

The Definitive 1000

2010-11-24T15:05:00.003-05:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

Somebody give Gibert a sandwich so he can get the hell out of there

960 - Mary Kate and Ashley Olsen... in Slow Motion

I remember my sisters loving these two girls back in the days of Full House. I also thought they appeared to be how I imagined shaved Gremlims would be. Small. Hairless. Pink. Googly eyes. A dark secret. Evil. Hanging with Bob Saget.

So I can only sit back and applaud as somebody edited down one of their kiddie videos to illustrate the sheer creepy light I have always seen them bathed in.

Original:

After, Pizza in Slow Motion:

I don't need to explain why Slow Motion Shaved Gremlins sit in the coveted 960 spot. You singing "gimmee peet-ZAH" everyday next week at work says it all.

Despicable Me: Ever hear of the Law of Diminishing Returns

2010-07-11T08:19:00.003-04:00

I would just like to say something. When I first saw the trailer for this movie I thought it looked like it would be pretty good. I like the animated films. Looked like something my 3 year old Murphy would enjoy. I am a big fan of Steve Carrell, Jason Segel, Will Arnett, and the rest of the cast. That being said, I will never see this movie. The constant bombardment of commercials. The little inserts on top of every episode of The Office. Do these marketing people understand that you can start to piss people off when you hear that little girl say, "It's SO FLUFFY!" too many times? Gah! driving me crazy. The level of advertising in general is really starting to sicken me. I am waiting for the day when commercials will be sponsored by other products.

I Got To Say it Was A Good Day

2010-05-24T21:58:00.004-04:00

So let's see...

New roof on my house...
My 14 month old daughter melted my heart by merely saying "dad" and smiling when I walked in after an hour commute home...
Didn't have to clean firetrucks like I thought I had to...
The Dunkin Donuts lady got the extra-extra part right...

And, oh yeah....

THE FLYERS ARE THE EASTERN CONFERENCE CHAMPS!!

They needed a shootout on the last day of the regular season to make the playoffs. They were down 3-0 against the Bruins in games and in Game 7 and came back to win both. They are playing for the Stanley Cup starting saturday. Unreal.

Let's hope Richards' escorting the Prince of Wales trophy to the locker room doesn't jinx them at all. Maybe Cindy Crosby snapped that curse last year...

Why They Invented the Internet #6

2010-05-04T14:29:00.003-04:00

For this:

I know, I know, this could have existed before the Internet, but the point is I probably wouldn't have seen it unless the Internet was invented and this was posted on it and I stumbled across it.

[Tip of the hat to Funtasticus (site is overall slightly NSFW) for the pic]

Why is Happy Our New Default Setting?

2010-04-27T21:57:00.002-04:00

Kids today don't lose.

Kids today are never picked last for games.

Kids today aren't walloped upside the head with a dodgeball.

Kids today go to college and try to diagnose every literary character's mental conditions and prescribe them the same meds they've been on since they were toddlers. It's true. Just heard it on the radio. An NYU english professor was bemoaning the fact that her students can't deal with the fact that Bartleby the Scrivener was a weird dude. They want to figure out what's wrong with him and share their prozac and lithium with him so that he lives a happier life.

Why?

Probably because they've never had to deal with disappointment or unhappiness.

This isn't to say that there aren't kids out there who need to be treated for various illnesses, mental and physical, because there certainly are. BUT, from what I hear from parents of young children, their kids never have to deal with what adults my age dealt with as kids.

My colleague at work has three kids. The two oldest play little league. They are 9 and 7. They've never lost a game until this year, since no one keeps score until they are deemed old enough to handle it. And in every game this year, every kid has to hit and field. So no one feels bad.

I played t-ball when I was 6, 7 and 8. They didn't keep score then either. But the kicker was, the kids all did. We certainly did. We knew who won and lost. And we went about our 6, 7, and 8 year old lives happily win or lose. As long as we got Slurpees. And I was terrible. I was put into the deepest part of the outfield. Or, if you prefer, the shallowest outfield position on the adjacent field, in the middle of another game. Why? Did I mention I was terrible.

You know what that taught me? Baseball wasn't my game. Nor was basketball, where I couldn't hide in the deep outfield. Soccer was ok. Street hockey was my world and I was good at that. I didn't dwell on being bad at baseball. I learned to deal with the disappointment of playing poorly, of losing almost every game, of hitting the tee farther than the ball. I adjusted and learned that I wouldn't always be happy. And I hope to buck the trend of today with my daughter. She'll lose, she'll play poorly, she'll be sad and disappointed. She'll learn to deal with this and the fact that happiness is not guaranteed.

That's the way life was and should be. Happiness should not be our default. We should expect the occasional disappointment and failure and learn to deal with them. Happiness will return, disappointments will fade, success will visit once again.

Stupid Commercial Jogs Memory

2010-04-26T22:03:00.005-04:00

I just saw the stupid commercial for Walmart's new house brand that supposedly will allow me to serve my spouse and 4 or 5 kids, all under 7, tacos for less than $2 a serving.

All I could think of was these, staples of my childhood:

Not necessarily potted meat and cola, but those plain black and white labels with the red stripes at the bottom. There they were mixed in with the normal cereals everyone else had. I know we had our share of normal stuff too, but we had plenty of No Frills stuff as well. And I'm sure they didn't have slick commercials with incredibly photogenic people smiling about how great the No Frills family of products was.

Back in the late 70's and very early 80's we lived in an apartment complex across a relatively busy street from a shopping center with first a Pantry Pride, which begat an A&P which then begat a Pathmark. Back in the day my parents thought nothing of sending their 5-year-old across Crittenden Street to the supermarket for whatever. I'm glad they did, but it just goes to show how different things are today when parents would go to jail for letting their 5 year old go to the store alone and a major chain can make their No Frills-ish house brand look desirable.

[Thanks to Thanks A Lot Pal for the No Frills pics. If I wasn't lazy I could probably dig up a family picture of a birthday party with a 2 liter bottle of "Cola" on the table in the background]

Why They Invented the Internet #5

2010-03-12T22:30:00.004-05:00

So that we can celebrate that wonderful time of year when we fill out our brackets and follow the tournament as the field whittles from 64 to that hallowed ground of the final four and then finally to the big winner.

March Madness?

Nope. It's once again time for The Name of The Year Tournament.

Who will arise to assume the mantle from last year's winner, Barkevious Mingo?

Spartacus Bernstein?
Lolita Respectnothing?
Spontaneous Gordon?
Or my lock to win it all, God's Power Offor?

This is one bracket worth filling out and one tournament worth following. At least there won't be 10 timeouts called in the last 30 seconds of these games...

UPDATE: The brackets are out!!

The Definitive 1000

2010-03-10T22:08:00.003-05:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

961 - Bop Bop 'n Rebop

Ever have an out-of-the-blue remembrance of something from your childhood that seems so outrageous that you begin to doubt the very existence of the thing you're remembering?

I had that happen today.

I remembered a game I had as a kid that I was pretty sure was called Bop Bop 'n Rebop. But could there actually have been such a game? With a name that sounds like a Cyndi Lauper remix?

Indeed there was:

As I remember it, the platform in the middle of the game spun around like crazy sending the "puck" flying all over the board. You had to slide your little guy (or girl...I forgot how hot I thought that girl was) back and forth your opening to keep the puck in the game. It came with two fences so you could block off two of the openings if you didn't have all four players.

I know I loved this game, but I have zero recollection of what happened to it. I wish I knew.

Thanks to Board Game Geek for verifying that this game actually exists!

Why They Invented the Internet #4

2010-02-23T22:15:00.003-05:00

So that some day I could get home at 9:30 pm from a meeting and have my wife say, "you probably already saw this, but..." And then proceed to show me these slices of awesome:

and

I have no idea where they came from or what they are, but they are fantastic. Also fitting that my wife was referred to them by a lady at work whose daughter likes them. Her middle school aged daughter.

Ghost Signs in Your Own Backyard

2010-02-23T13:28:00.003-05:00

Ghost signs aren't just for big cities. This one commands the skyline very close to my suburban home:

I'm not sure if Jeff's Mom was worth Josh's time or not.

And, at the risk of sounding like a broken record, I apologize for the long hiatus. I've been working feverishly on another site for the last few months, when I actually had a working computer. Hopefully, more to come!

Why They Invented the Internet #3

2009-10-22T13:07:00.002-04:00

Sorry for the long layoff folks.

It's been a hectic summer/early fall here at Friendly Friends HQ.

Oh yeah, and in case you didn't know, THE FIGHTIN PHILLIES ARE IN THE WORLD SERIES. AGAIN. FOR THE SECOND YEAR IN A ROW.

After 127 (126?) seasons and 7 total trips to the WS the Phils finally put together their first back-to-back trips to the Fall Classic.

So to celebrate, here is another installment of Why They Invented The Internet. Because without the internet, I would never get to see Henry Hill react to Franzke's call of Jimmy Rollins' walk-off double in game 4 of this year's NLCS.

Enjoy, and tip of the William Penn-sized Phillies hat (that they thankfully have not dragged out of storage) to the always fantastic Fightin's.

Holy Crap! John Hughes Died?!

2009-08-06T22:49:00.004-04:00

He wrote and/or directed some of the most quotable, most memorable movies of our childhood:

National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation
Uncle Buck
The Great Outdoors
Planes, Trains & Automobiles
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
Pretty in Pink
Weird Science
National Lampoon's European Vacation
The Breakfast Club
Sixteen Candles
National Lampoon's Vacation
Mr. Mom

I honestly don't think that a gathering of Friendly Friends goes by without one of these movies being quoted repeatedly. These movies helped define our senses of humor (some more than others, Mr. Mom, Uncle Buck and Planes, Trains & Automobiles I'm looking at you) and have provided hours of enjoyment.

I hope the guest book at the funeral home has entries from Abe Frohman, Bug and Long Duk Dong.

RIP awesome movie guy.

Why They Invented the Internet #2

2009-08-05T21:55:00.004-04:00

We here at Friendly Friends Mining and Manufacturing are unabashed Phillies fans. We spent many an hour of our youths roaming the ramps at the Vet begging our parents for a helmet sundae. And we all shed a tear or two last October.

So it should come as no surprise that this video featuring J-Roll and Ryan Howard makes the cut. The "speak through the pans, sir" line alone is enough.

Baseball Fantasy Camp with Ryan Howard and Jimmy Rollins - watch more funny videos

[Thanks to With Leather, and the other sites posting this video]

Time to Take Out Some Trash

2009-07-31T08:23:00.002-04:00

Ramblings and rants that have been bouncing around my brain lately:

1. As an employee of the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, I would like to take this opportunity to thank all of our state reps and senators for doing an amazing job in Harrisburg. Truly.

By sticking to your convictions that it's better to be a good republican or a good democrat over all else, you've guaranteed that I won't be getting a paycheck for the foreseeable future. God forbid you actually work for the citizens of this fine Commonwealth instead of working to protect the little letter after your name.

You are all a bunch of complete assholes.

2. Wawa, I sing your virtues on a near-daily basis. I enjoy your coffee and the ease with which you allow me to purchase items quickly. I take baths in your buffalo blue cheese sauce.

So why you playing me like a fool? Extending Hoagiefest until August 9th?? Making sure both versions of the hoagiefest songs stick in my brain for another week?? How could you????

3. I think we need a better definition of racial profiling. Police officers responding to a call of an attempted break-in are not racially profiling anybody if they pull up and find a black guy inside a house which he entered through a window after not being able to open the door, EVEN IF THE BLACK GUY LIVES THERE! Police officers stopping a young black man who stands about 6 feet tall, weighs about 200 pounds, wearing blue running pants with a yellow stripe and a grey t-shirt an is doing nothing other than jogging at 11 pm are not racially profiling anyone IF THEY RECEIVED A DESCRIPTION OF A RAPE SUSPECT WHO WAS A YOUNG BLACK MAN WEARING RUNNING PANTS AND A GREY T-SHIRT AND IS 6 FEET TALL AND WEIGHS 200 LBS!

(The second one actually happened to a friend of mine in college. He never claimed racial profiling, but many of our friends did. He's a cop now.)

I worked in law enforcement for many years going back to my college days and I work in law enforcement now. Racial profiling DOES happen. There are bad cops and DA's and judges out there who jam people up for being black or Hispanic. BUT, what everyone calls racial profiling is usually not. The examples above are not profiling and the media needs to stop calling them profiling.

The police are given the task to respond to problems that we cannot deal with as regular citizens for, mostly, safety reasons. The Cambridge police receive a call of a possible break-in and the person in the house happens to be black and live there? How is that racial profiling? And taking it a step further, if you mouth off to a cop you are getting arrested. Black, white, Hispanic, Asian, whatever. That's a fact.

Had the Cambridge police been driving by and saw a black guy sitting on the porch and they stopped and bothered him, we could all cry racial profiling.

This very same thing happened in my own family. A relative was having a house built and decided to go poke around the construction site on a weekend. A neighbor saw a car parked in front of a house site and a guy poking around in all the stuff there and called the police to report a possible theft of construction supplies and equipment. The police rolled up and demanded to see my relative's ID and demanded to know what he was doing there.

Did I mention that we are white?

The police were doing their job. It doesn't matter what color any one is in that situation, the police have a job to do. Just because the perpetrator or the guy breaking into his own house is a minority does not make a situation one of racial profiling.

The XPoNential Music Festival: A Brief Review

2009-07-27T10:48:00.006-04:00

One of the highlights of the last few summers had been spending three or four days at the XPoNential fest at Wiggin's Park on the Camden Waterfront. This weekend concert event is the annual festival put on by 88.5 WXPN here in Philly.

This year, thanks to the arrival of our first little one in March, I had planned to miss the whole thing entirely.

When I saw Saturday's schedule however, I quickly changed my mind and made plans to attend at least that day.

I was rewarded by seeing three of my favorite bands back-to-back-to-back along with several others who were highly entertaining as well.

Starting at around 8:00 p.m., They Might Be Giants took the main stage. I was sitting near the top of the hill on the right side (facing it) of the stage, near the brick path in the middle of the park and from that vantage point looking down on the hill it looked like a prairie dog city when They took the stage. From just about every group little heads popped up when John and John came out and launched into Alphabet of Nations and all of those little heads kept dancing through Seven and then the adult stuff as well. One little guy near me didn't stop until the encore of "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)" and did one of the best dances I've seen to "Dr. Worm." Even though I've seen TMBG 6 or 7 times live it never gets boring, though this was the first time they were called "The Toby Keith Experience," in homage to Mr. Keith's appearance across the marina.

After They, Hoots and Hellmouth blew away the crowd at the marina stage with a rousing set of stuff from their first CD and their newest, The Holy Open Secret. I had seen Hoots last year (?) at the Festival as they opened the main stage one of the days and they sounded great but seemed a little ragged. This time? Absolutely nailed it. The band was tighter and sounded fantastic.

After Hoots, it was time to get back over to the main stage for The Hold Steady. Having never seen them live, I wasn't entirely prepared for Craig Finn's on stage mannerisms. For a guy that sounds a little like Springsteen and has the vocal chops to command every single song, it was a little bizarre to see a guy that makes Devo look like James Brown clones on stage. But The Hold Steady rocked my face clear off of my skull...until the skies opened and they were chased from the stage. I did finally get to hear live versions of some of my favorites (Chips Ahoy, Stuck Between Stations, Massive Nights, Lord I'm Discouraged, Southtown Girls and One For The Cutters) but I feel like I got gypped out of so much more. I was really hoping for Two Crosses, Citrus, Slapped Actress and, of course, Constructive Summer. I really wanted to make that a sing-along song and belt out "GET HAMMERED" with the band. If only the weather had held out...

Why They Invented the Internet #1

2009-07-23T12:58:00.005-04:00

Welcome to the first in what I hope will become a regular feature here at Friendly Friends Mortuary and Catering.

Every so often, while cruising the information superhighway, I come across something that makes me say, "This, this right here, is why they invented the Internet. So that someday in the future a guy like me can be cruising around and run across THIS."

Today's entry is the video for The Avalanches' Frontier Psychiatrist.

This entry also presents some interesting synchronicity. As some of you are aware, I wake up most mornings with a song or a portion of a song playing on repeat in my brain. A couple of mornings ago it was the stupid WaWa hoagiefest song and it wasn't until I got to work and had my coffee that it finally faded.

The annoying thing about this soundtrack in my brain is that it is very, very insistent until I can finally shut it out. To the point where I sometimes have to sing whatever is stuck on a loop while in the shower.

This past Tuesday morning I woke up with one tiny fragment of Frontier Psychiatrist playing over and over in my head. It happened to be the part that I've always heard as "Framakazoot, let's have a toot" but could be something else entirely. Then on Wednesday I happened to cruise on past one of my favorite websites for pure random awesomeness, the Percy Tout hour and lo and behold there is the video for this song in all its living glory.

I hadn't heard this song since probably around 2001 but I woke up with it playing in my head and a day later I find the video with very little effort on my part. Honestly, I never even thought about a possible video for this song, which as it sounds like a collection of samples doesn't lend itself to a video.

But, man, it's awesome:

So there you have it. Why they invented the Internet.

Barth Goes to The Greasy Spoon In The Sky

2009-07-23T10:09:00.003-04:00

I know what you're thinking. No update for nearly a month and then when we return it's another post about death.

We here at Friendly Friends Amalgamated Manufacturing and Refining Company, Inc. are usually pretty happy fellows. None of us really dwell too much on death and dying.

But when it's a small piece of your childhood that has died you feel compelled to comment on it. And that's what happened when Les Lye passed away on Tuesday.

Mr. Lye played all of the adult male characters on my favorite show as a kid, You Can't Do That on Television. I raced home most days from Erdenheim Elementary to catch this show on Nickelodeon.

The opening, very Monty Python-esque, features Mr. Lye prominently:

Here's my favorite Mr. Lye character, and the inspiration for the title of this post, beating up on his poor employee, Zilch:

Barth takes care of the health inspector, leading to two of the greatest catchphrases from the show:

And finally, Mr. Lye as Ross Ewitch the stage manager being subjected to green slime. As a kid I wanted to get slimed so badly:

It must say something about me that while watching these clips I still laughed like I did when I was 7 or 8, but I did.

Thanks Mr. Lye and RIP.

I thought these things only came in 3's?

2009-06-29T11:37:00.004-04:00

First it was Ed McMahon. Pretty sad, but he was 86 and in failing health.

Then it was Farrah Fawcett. Again, sad, but she'd been fighting cancer for some time.

Then it was Michael Jackson. Sad, I guess, but hasn't he really been dead for about 20 years now?

But the kicker, the WTF moment of "celebrity" deaths was the one that occurred over the weekend.

Billy Mays?? Huh? How is that possible?

It's amazing what TV you can get into when you are sitting up late either with an infant or awaiting the infant's eventual late-night wake-up. I became a rather fond follower of the TLC show "Pitchmen" thanks to our 14-week old.

He worked hard to get from the Pittsburgh area to the Boardwalk in AC to the mansion seen on Pitchmen.

And now? Gone.

I have to say, of the "celebrity" deaths in the last week, the death of Billy Mays actually hit the hardest.

RIP Pitchman.

Negelcted Neon Number 1

2009-06-22T15:15:00.005-04:00

Not only do Ghost Signs/Ads fascinate me, but so do old, forgotten neon signs.

I guess it's fair to say that neon sign making may be a dying art. Without doing any research or consulting with sign makers, I will base that statement purely on the fact that I just don't see as much neon as I used to.

These faded, neon-less neon signs are sad reminders of bygone days. When I see what's left of these signs, I am struck by how time ravages everything. To think that there was a proud, beaming shop owner watching with pride as his/her sign was hoisted up and lit for the first time, beckoning people from all over to their business and then to see these mostly forgotten relics of that time, far from their glory days leaves me with a bit of melancholy.

Here's the first two that I've collected...

Woodland Avenue in SW Philly, now a west African grocery...

This first picture shows the now neon-less sign for an auto parts store. While it is nice to see that the building itself is still in use for business purposes, and not one of many boarded up hulks on Woodland Avenue, there is still a feeling of loss for what once was. I can almost see the owner of the auto parts store standing across the street, chest puffed out a bit, as he saw the (probably) red neon flicker for the first time. This was his big moment. This was his time to draw the customers in. This was his chance to pay off the loan from his in-laws and finally prove that he wasn't the screw-up they believed stole their daughter away.

Southern end of Lancaster City, not sure if the building is in use at all right now. Barely managed to get the cell phone out in time...

Mr. Rebman must have been so proud. Here was his name on the store, the first in what he hoped would be a regional, then national, chain. What did he sell? It doesn't matter. He had a plum location on the outskirts. The city folk could get in and out as well as the rural folk. He'd catch them on the way into town for a day of shopping and marvelling at the newest and best technological doodads for the home. He could see them now, piling out of the big station wagons, boys in uncomfortable starched shirts and suits, Sunday-only shoes pinching all of their toes. Girls in dresses and gloves, clutching their little purses tight, protecting the small fortune in dimes and nickles they'd spend in the candy department. Moms excited to maybe one-up the Smiths across the way; Dads exhausted from working all week on the farm, looking forward to maybe sneaking one at that little taproom just up the block...

The PECO Building Crown Lights are Proceeding Nicely

2009-06-22T15:11:00.003-04:00

More cell phone shots whilst driving down I-76...in the rain...

The whole thing is supposed to be done for July 4th. We'll see.

The Definitive 1000

2009-06-09T22:00:00.003-04:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

962 - Yak Loin

Good to keep the yang up.

That is all.

Hannibal Lechter Would Be Proud

2009-06-09T21:39:00.008-04:00

Thanks for inviting me over for dinner. That's a fine looking roast you got there. I'm a big pot roast fan. Potatoes, carrots, onions all in the gravy with the beef. That's some good eats right there. Oh how I love to smoosh up the potatoes with the onion and drown it in au jus.

What? You've given up beef? Oh, ok. Well, whatever floats your boat. So then what are we having? I mean, that really looks like beef. Is it for someone else?

What is it? Mutton? That color, that marbling. You're not a vegetarian so don't try and tell me that's tofu.

Let me see that....

So that explains the fava beans in the pot and nice bottle of Chianti on the table...

What's the Opposite of a Ghost Sign/Ad?

2009-06-03T22:33:00.003-04:00

It would definitely include shiny new LED lights and it would obviously be on a building.

Well, after a life spent seeing the top of the PECO Building in Philly looking a lot like this:

I was very happy to hear that the old fashioned scrolling light bulb sign would be replaced with LEDS. Well, then imagine my delight when I saw the top look like this the other day during an otherwise hellish commute home:

I know these aren't the best, but I was using my cellphone and trying not to run into anyone. Plus anyone who is familiar with this stretch of the Schuylkill "Expressway" knows I'm about to go under 30th Street...

I can't wait to see the finished product. I am a sucker for this kind of stuff.

Now Batting...The Rabid Child

2009-05-29T21:37:00.003-04:00

Ever since I was a geeky middle schooler (I was one of two members of the AV Club, we inventoried and delivered all AV equipment to the whole school) and a geeky high schooler (my homeroom was in the AV Department where I was director of the Morning News and Announcements) I have been a huge fan of They Might Be Giants. The combo of accordions and wordplay was enough to tear me away from the hair metal and awful boy bands of Top 40 radio in Philly in the late 80's and early 90's. They still inhabit a large portion of my iPod's 4 GB.

And now as a parent I cannot wait to share TMBG with my little girl. At this point (10 weeks) she's not too cognizant of the music playing most of the time around the house, but I have a feeling we'll be enjoying They soon enough.

Hopefully she'll be as lucky as these kids:

Brooklyn-based alt rock pioneers They Might Be Giants have decided to start sponsoring little league teams, following in the footsteps of other community-friendly entrepreneurs like Hoffman Car Wash and Dick's Sporting Goods. It's another savvy move for the protean Johns, because the free advertising can't help but boost record sales on their growing catalog of children's albums. (The band just won a Grammy for Best Children's album for "Here Come the 123s")

Now, that's just plain awesomeness. I played two seasons of t-ball for Wyndmoor Auto Supply. I would have much rather been playing for Chess Piece Face, Particle Man, Jame Ensor and Mr. Me.

[Article and picture from Gothamist.com]

Pleaseohpleaseohplease let the Curse strike again...

2009-05-27T23:59:00.002-04:00

I hate the Pens. I cannot stand the constant whining from Crosby. Please let the gods of hockey smite him for touching the Prince of Wales Trophy and keep his name off the Stanley Cup.

[Pic from With Leather]

So, It's Been Awhile

2009-05-13T14:19:00.005-04:00

Hi.

Glad to see you. You're looking pretty good. Lose some weight? I think you did. No, really. Oh stop it, you're perfect the way you are.

So. What's been happening, you ask? Well, not too much.

Let's see...got the mulching done, overseeded the lawn, mowed it a few times, pulled up the sod for Ms. Jewbacca's new garden...

What else, what else...

I feel like I'm forgetting something...

Oh yeah...been spending time with this, our new baby overlord:

That little bundle of joy joined us about 7 weeks ago. They say that your life changes when you have kids. There's no way that that old chestnut in any form prepares you for the absolute upheaval that you experience when you walk in the door from the hospital and there's no one but yourselves to take care of this new, helpless life.

I won't lie to you and say it's all been unicorns and rainbows, because quite frankly it hasn't been. But for the most part it's been a wonderful experience.

Once she started smiling...

[Anyone missing the reference in the picture above check this out.]

R.I.P. Harry Kalas, the Voice of Summer

2009-04-13T20:21:00.002-04:00

As a lifelong Phillies fan, I can honestly say that hearing Harry the K call a game meant that it was summertime. No school, no homework, just cicadas, run-the-bases and watching the Phils on TV.

There are few better feelings than lying on the sofa on a rainy stormy summer Sunday afternoon and watching the Phils play somewhere sunny and hearing Harry Kalas call the game.

And now that is gone.

Harry Kalas passed away this afternoon, instantaneously silencing summer for good. The cicadas will still chirp for sure, but the unmistakable narration of summer in Philly won't be joining them.

I actually did meet Harry Kalas once. Me and the Sweaty Irishman charged up the steps at Jack Russell Stadium in Clearwater at the end of an exhibition game to the press box. The windows were open and Sweaty and I stood there in awe, hemming and hawing out our thanks and whatnot. Harry looked bemused and rather than cowering in fear thanked us and shook our hands. That 30 second encounter is a highlight of my sports life.

We'll miss you Harry. Phillies home runs and strikeouts by Phils' pitchers will never sound the same...

Ghost Signs: Philly Part 2

2009-03-18T22:45:00.007-04:00

Here's a couple more ghost signs I've encountered on my travels around the City of Brotherly Love.

This one is on a building in the middle of 13th at Cuthbert. I took it from the top of the parking garage at 12th and Filbert:

I really can't make out any features of this one. It appears that there were several different signs in this spot. At least one was square/rectangular and at least one other was circular. Could it have been this one from 1965? The windows sort of match:

Here it is a bit closer, also from 1965:

The second one caught my eye while driving to work:

It's on the side of a building at the corner of Shields Street and Woodland Avenue, near 67th and Woodland.

Clearly it's a Coca-Cola/Ice Cream Soda sign. But it appears to be on top of a smaller sign. I've been studying the top line and all I can make out is what appears to be "Chas Kendis," research of which reveals nothing. Unfortunately the city historical photo archive has nothing for this address either.

[Old Timey Pictures courtesy of PhillyHistory.org. Go at your own risk and prepare to lose most of the next 5 or 6 hours browsing...]

It's Bracket Time Again!!

2009-03-17T09:42:00.003-04:00

And I'm not talking about that ridiculous time waster that will somehow cause businesses to lose eleventy-billion dollars in a month due to their employees working out brackets and watching games on their computers.

No, I am talking about the miraculous and sublime Name of the Year tournament.

I'm late to this party, as I only discovered it last year, but this thing is a million times better than trying to figure out if some idiot team from that idiot sport can beat another idiot team.

As an aside, the NCAA won't go to a football playoff partly because it would tie up the "student" athletes for too long. But in this idiot sport most teams play in a conference tournament and then possibly in a month long second tournament to decide a champion? Whatever.

Anyhow, with matchups like the 8th seeded Larry Koldsweat taking on the 9 seed Larry Warmflash in the Bulltron Regional and the 2nd seeded Nutritious Love battling the 15 seed Tequila Minsky (I smell upset!) in the Sithole Regional, how can you go wrong?

Who cares if some idiot campus of UNC from an idiot conference beats some other idiot school from another idiot conference??

What does matter is if the 3 seed Dallas Lauderdale can take out the 14th seeded Scorpio Babers in the Dragonwagon Regional.

Folks, these are all real names. They're real people. They are all vying for our votes. Log on, visit the site and make sure Juvyline Cubangbang makes it to the next round. Give Dr. Shasta Kielbasa his/her day in the sun. Honor Bunkless Bovian. Make sure the Buff Parrott avoids the Chastity Clapp.

No Pat, Thank You.

2009-03-14T17:36:00.003-04:00

It's sad that Pat Burrell has moved on from the Phillies. I'll admit that I was in the chorus calling for his head on more than one occasion. I wish him nothing but the best, except against the Phils, in the future.

From The Fightins via The 700 Level comes this, a full page ad in the Daily News:

What a classy move by a classy guy.

The View Through the Window Across From Room 232, Philly City Hall

2009-03-11T21:44:00.005-04:00

Philadelphia's City Hall is a fascinating building, inside and out. Here's the view from the window across from Courtroom 232:

And as a bonus, here's the view through one of the massive archways. I believe this is south down Market Street:

That Newspaper Sure Knows Its Stuff...

2009-03-11T21:34:00.004-04:00

While getting the room ready for our impending arrival we decided to put a fresh coat of red paint on the mirror from my room when I was a kid. I grabbed a bunch of the Inqy out of the recycling basket and masked it up:

After screwing up the first coats and asking my professional painter/artist brother-in-law for help we brought the mirror inside and sanded it down. It was at this point I noticed the article that was on the front of the masking newspaper:

You know what? A splash or dash of red really does spice up home accessories.

Ghost Signs: Philly Part 1

2009-03-10T22:19:00.005-04:00

I finally got a new cell phone after about 5 years with my previous one. Did you know they come with cameras now?

That would explain why I started taking pictures of the ghost signs on my way to work in Southwest Philly. These are all along the Woodland Avenue shopping corridor:

Around about 55th and Woodland

Near 60th and Woodland
Obviously not much of a ghost sign as it's still in good shape and the company is still in business. Not a big fan of the slogan at the top though, for obvious reasons.

64th and Woodland
Looks like the sign may have been for a place called George's, much like the present check cashing place. Interestingly as well, it looks like there was more to the present George's sign as well at one point, as you can see by the remnants of the wooden framework still there.

UPDATE: After driving by again today, it is actually an ad for "Celotex." A quick Google shows that Celotex is a bankrupt asbestos insulation manufacturer.

67th and Woodland
Right near my office, a long gone meat market. Not even 100% sure if the store in there now is even open.

These signs are even more important since the entire area is vastly different than when it was a thriving shopping area.

A Chicago Disappearing Act

2009-03-09T22:27:00.004-04:00

One of my favorite foods is the simple hot dog. And I think I like them simply because they hold mustard and ketchup and relish. People frown when you eat these things straight from the jar.

I knew while I was in Chicago I was going to have to try a hot dog, Chicago-style. A dog with yellow mustard, relish, chopped onions, tomato wedges, a pickle spear, peppers and a dash of celery salt was in my proverbial wheelhouse. I was warned beforehand NOT to ask for ketchup.

During one of my wanders around the city I came across this place:

And here's where the disappearing act happened.

I sat down with one of these:

And within about a minute and a half I had this:

Pretty cool magic trick, huh? Though absolutely delicious it was surprisingly the only one I had during the entire trip.

Ghost Signs: Chicago

2009-03-09T21:19:00.004-04:00

My grandfather sold men's clothes. He worked for a company based in North Carolina, and travelled throughout the coal region of PA selling to mom and pop stores in the days before the big chains and the malls destroyed the Main Streets of Forty Fort, Shamokin Dam, Mahanoy, Milton, etc.

He had a showroom in a "mart" in center city Philly at 8th and Arch. One of my favorite things to do when he'd take me and the Malagan down to his showroom was to look around at all of the faded advertisements painted on the buildings.

Here are a few from our Chicago trip:

Clearly this is the well-known Brunswick Corporation. According to their website this logo was adopted in 1960 when the company changed its name from the Brunswick-Balke-Collender Company. Not sure if there was a bowling alley here or just an ad.

This appears to be the Carl Whitinger Company, a floral supply business. According to the American Floral Endowment Annual Report for 2004, the company was a contributor. Other than that, I got nothing.

Gotta be the W.W. Kimball Piano Company. At the bottom of the sign is a section that appears to say "piano" and "organ." The original Kimball factory was at 26th and Rockwell Streets in Chicago in the early 1880s. See The Encyclopedia of Chicago for more detail.

From Chicago Architecture, this building was built in 1910-1911, is 265 feet tall, and has 512,000 square feet of floor space. The Chicago Architecture website has some great pictures of the building from the front, to get the full effect. I was more interested in the rear top and the idea that the giant pipe running in front of the sign could be carrying the People's Gas.

Any time I see a Ghost Sign, I think not of the product sold, whether still with us or long gone, but about the guy that painted the sign. Did he expect it to last forever? Did he bring his kids to see it? Did he brag to the ladies that he painted that particular sign? As the sign faded away or the buildings got torn down did he feel the loss? Could he ever imagine some guy with a free website would be taking pictures of his creations and trying in a small way to preserve his work?

The Definitive 1000

2009-03-06T14:58:00.001-05:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

963 - The Cloud Gate/Chrome Jellybelly

The coolest giant jellybean in the world

I know that this thing has been around for a while, and I'm sure that there are some well written, well thought out artistic type reviews of it floating around the Internet.

All I can offer, what with no art knowledge whatsoever is that this thing is AWESOME.

Me and the missus got to spend about 4 days in Chicago in October and I spent probably about 4 hours over two days sitting in the park staring at this thing and watching other people do the same. It is truly an amazing piece of work.

I walked around it, through it, sat close to it, sat far from it and I couldn't take my eyes off it. Or stop taking pictures of it. I'll only bore you with three or four from my vast library.

The side view

I don't know what it's made out of, I don't know what it means (I don't want to ruin my own ideas about it with some artsy doofus meanings) but I know that I really really REALLY like it.

That's me, posing as a silly tourist taking a zoomed in picture of a silly tourist wearing his hometown baseball team shirt in Chicago.

I do know that I wore my Phillies shirt, since the playoffs were starting the same week we were there. In fact, we watched the first Brewers-Phils game here:

Not generally a fan of the Worldwide Leader, but sitting next to two Brewers fans who couldn't stop squirming when Mrs. Jewbacca would cheer the Phils made it all better.

The second Brewers-Phils game here:

Why yes, that is a giant Weber grill! That place was in our hotel, was the only reason I wanted to go to Chicago and will be enshrined shortly in the D-1000.

And the third at a bar about 100 yards from here:

Man did we piss off a lot of Cubbies fans when we wouldn't give up our table after the Phils-Brewers game.

We had a blast in Chicago, and I'll have more on that later (even though it was 5 months ago), but since I still can't get over how cool The Cloud Gate is in person, it is well deserving of its place in the Definitive 1000!

Minor/Major

2009-03-06T14:44:00.005-05:00

Minor niners.

Major niners.

Chapter IV: A New Beginning

2009-03-06T14:36:00.003-05:00

Well, not really. Just a new generic blogger template. I thinks it's easier on the eyes.

Maybe some of our thousands of daily readers can let us know in the comments if that's true or not?

Daaaaamn

2009-01-30T20:55:00.007-05:00

Sometimes it is just amazing when people are good at what they love.

These two guys in the bowels of NYC are proof. The sweet spot is when the rail announcements are running behind them like a layered track. I only wish this was longer.

Check the cellist and flute-breakin' loops on these guys and give it up to YouTube for more Greg Pattillo and Eric Stephenson at Union Square flavor.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GMUlhuTkM3w

Damn.

Possible Top Three Random Moment of My Life

2009-01-14T09:22:00.002-05:00

January 14, 2009

9:22 a.m.

"You Be Illin'" by Run-DMC on WXPN.

Seriously.

A New Year, An Old Jewbacca

2009-01-07T22:05:00.002-05:00

[RANT]

I am constantly annoyed by things in this world. At least eight times every trip to work in the morning and probably close to double that on the way home I feel the urge to kill rising in my gut.

What troubles me so? The lack of awareness and respect that seems to pervade every part of society.

And this morning, I saw in living color on my very own television something that drove that point home. It was a show called "Parking Wars." It was (is?) filmed in my fair city and follows the employees of the PPA (Philadelphia Parking Authority) on their appointed rounds.

Having been the victim of their ticketing on several occasions I am familiar with their special brand of handcrafted day-ruining (though there was a time when it was cheaper to let your meter expire and get the ticket than it was to park in a garage). But I also know that if I let my meter expire I am going to get a ticket. Same if I double park, park in front of a hydrant, or park in a handicap spot. I accept the fact that there are rules for a reason and that there are people who's job it is is to enforce those rules. Heck, I WROTE parking tickets in college.

This morning I was watching this show over breakfast and was regaled with the tale of the young woman whose friend double parked, blocking a lane of travel in Center City Philadelphia. Simple, no? Double park, block morning traffic, get a ticket, grin sheepishly, pay the fine, move on....right?

Wrong. Accost the ticket writer, scream about the unfairness of it all, use the "2 seconds" argument, use the "my friend is from New York and didn't know better" argument, rally the passers-by, accuse the ticket writer of malfeasance, scream into the camera about how unfair it all is well after the ticket is given. That's how she chose to handle it.

Why does this person not see what they did is wrong? Ignorance and nil respect for the people around her, that's why. And in a nutshell, everything that is wrong in the world today..

Interestingly enough, when I opened the paper at lunch today (yes, opened the paper...the actual paper...delivered to my home every morning) and turned to the "Style and Soul" section to read the comics (a daily tradition since 1982) these two articles greeted me:

Double-Parking? Age Cheating? Who Cares?

which was directly below, in the print edition this gem:

A Flash of Celebrity

The latter article is about a company you can hire to send out three idiots with cameras to follow you around for three hours, at $1000 a pop, to make people think you're famous. $1000. For. Your. Own. Paparazzi. The very thing actual famous people want outlawed. You can hire them. To follow you around. I...

And the former article is an interesting essay into why people cut corners and break small laws. In short, why people are ignorant and have no respect for their fellow humans.

Probably because they are too busy hiring their own paparazzi. And it only hurt my heart and brain all the more when I read that the paparazzi company got its start following around U of D students while they were bar hopping. I don't mind U of D students bar hopping (have you ever been to Newark?), but I feel a stabbing pain in my alumni pride when I find out they gave credence to this d-bag idea.

So, in the space of roughly 5 hours I got to see, crystallized in front of me once on a flat screen and once in a "dying" medium, why this world is F'd up. And why its important for me to raise my soon-to-be-here child with the following simple credo:

Do the Right Thing.

If everyone did the right thing, I would not spend a good portion of my day in a blind rage planning a kill-crazy rampage. And there would be less ignorance and more awareness and a lot more respect.

[/RANT]

The Definitive 1000

2008-12-24T16:16:00.007-05:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

964 - The Wanamaker Christmas Light Show

The Magic Tree in front of the not-yet-begun Light Show

Odd that I, Jewbacca, would be in charge of enshrining the Wanamaker Christmas Light Show in the Definitive 1000.

But it is truly one of my favorite things in the world.

First, a quick digression.

As some of you know, the wonderful ~~succubusses~~ people at that little mom and pop operation known as Comcast have built the tallest building in Philly. The lobby of this place has a gigantic LCD screen that displays various entertainments for the people passing through. It is a really, really cool TV screen.

All of that is an LCD screen. Above the bottom two rows of wood panels is actual video footage.

And that's about it. The Holiday Spectacular is being hyped as some sort of must-do Christmas event for Philadelphians.

Well, let me tell you, myself and Mrs. Jewbacca visited this "attraction" last night and were very greatly disappointed. I won't bore you with the details, since I was bored for 15 minutes with the details last night. As we walked out all I could say was that the screen was really, really cool.

CGI bulbs are no match for the real thing...

Which brings me to the latest addition to the D1000.

Everything that the Comcast show lacks is embodied in the 23,500 LEDs on the Magic Christmas Tree and in the instantly recognizable narration from Julie Andrews (though nowhere as awesome as the original provided by the Voice of God and NFL Films John Facenda) and in the 288,000 watts of energy used during the finale, pictured below...

The finale. The Light Show is a 15 minute animated trip through Christmas. It is 50+ years old and it is still awesome. That thing is like nine stories tall.

The Comcast show was no different than watching TV at someone's house. The Light Show is the Light Show. It's a bunch of figures made of lights built in 1955 that tell the story of the Nutcracker, Rudolph, Frosty, a magic sleigh ride through the sky and a train ride with Santa himself. No tricky camera angles, no computer aided editing, no CGI.

Hokey? Yes. Simplistic? Yes. Lo-tech? Yes.

And that's why it's insanely awesome every single year.

I watched the audience at both. The kids at Comcast looked like they were watching TV. They looked hollow and bored. The kids at Macy's watching the Light Show couldn't stop singing along. They couldn't stop exclaiming how cool things were to their parents. They couldn't stop gasping with excitement.

If that's not a ringing endorsement of the old-fashioned Light Show (albeit with LEDs now) I don't know what is. Other than this 33 year old Philadelphia kid giving it his seal of approval by enshrining it in the Definitive 1000.

Merry Christmas.

To all my phellow phans...

2008-11-06T08:00:00.000-05:00

I have been writing this post and editing and adding and deleting since the Philadelphia Phillies made the World Series 2 days before my birthday on October 15th. I had started to think I would split this into a couple posts, but I have decided to make this one long post with a few sections. So strap yourself in Friendly Friends! Here is Sweaty Irishman's thoughts his baseball team. The Philadelphia Phillies.

I think I will start with a little history on the losingest franchise in professional sports history. As many of you know, the Philies are one of the oldest franchises in baseball. Their first season was 1883. Chester A. Arthur was president. The first machine gun was invented and Karl Marx died. At least half of my family was still living in Ireland at that time and cared more about defeating the tyrannical British then the Cincinnati Redlegs. So anyway...In typical Philadelphia fashion, it took the Phillies 32 years to make it's first World Series appearance. The Phillies faced the Boston Redsox in the 1915 World Series. My grandparents were about 2 years old. The Phillies had a 31 game winner named Grover Cleveland Alexander and a good hitter named Gavvy Cravath. Gavvy wore an onion on his belt, which was the style at the time. They faced a very good Redsox team with a very good young rookie pitcher whom they used occasionally as a pinch hitter named George Herman Ruth. In case you couldn't guess...we lost. Oh well...get'em next year, right boys? Wrong!

35 years later... the Phillies got to their second World Series! My parents were about 2 years old. The 1950 Philadelphia Phillies aka the Whiz Kids, were a bunch of young up and comers including a couple future hall of famers Robin Roberts and Richie Ashburn. Whitey of course would go on to earn the love and respect of a second and third generation of Philadelphians as the best color announcer ever. (Side note: My favorite Whitey moments as a color guy was when the answer to the daily trivia question was himself) That team had to face none other then the New York Yankees. They were nothing special. They had mediocre players such as Whitey Ford, Yogi Berra and Joe DiMaggio. The Phillies gave it all they had, but got swept. Although 3 of the games were decided by one run. So, to keep up, that is 67 years of existence, 2 World Series appearances and no championships. Oh well, get 'em next year right? I mean this was a young team with good players and no free agency! Things were looking up!

30 years later...The Phillies make there third ever World Series. I was 6 years old, but in no way cared about baseball. I was more concerned with Empire Strikes Back or being allowed to cross the street by myself. This is were things changed for the Phillies. Mike Schmidt, Pete Rose, Steve Carlton, Tug McGraw, Garry Maddox, Greg Luzinski and Larry Bowa were members of the first ever World Series Champion Philadelphia Phillies! This was a golden age of sports in our town. 1980 saw the Phillies in the series, the Eagles in the Superbowl, the Sixers in the finals and the Flyers playing for the Stanley Cup. The Phillies took home the crown and 97 years of frustration was released! If only I was old enough to remember! I can't remember a parade, but I do remember that I was Donald Duck for Halloween!

In a shocker, the Phillies made the World Series just 3 years after that in 1983! This team, known as the Wheeze kids were kind of unexpected. Many of the 1980 players like Luzinski were gone, many more were past their prime like Rose and Carlton. We added a few very veteran players like Joe Morgan. We also added Gary (Sarge) Matthews Sr. A man, like Whitey who is now a color guy for the team and although started out a little sloppy is starting to endear himself to the masses with his critical commentating on the Phillies. Philly fans respect someone who is not a yes man. Wheeler, I am looking at you! By the way, Wheeler is NOT a tremendous athlete! Ok, back to the team...they faced the Baltimore Orioles. A young team with the likes of Cal Ripken, Eddie Murray and others. We lost in 5 games. I was 9 and still did not care much about baseball. At the time of this series I was wondering why my parents were packing us up and moving us to South Jersey. At this time I lived about 100 steps from FFMatt, so it was a cruel move in many ways. Oh well. I do credit this move with finally getting me into all sports. What the heck else was I going to do in South Jersey? So...1984 was the first year I truly cared about Philadelphia teams. I was a 4 for 4 kid too. The Phillies and Mike Schmidt. The Eagles and Randall Cunningham. The Flyers and Tim Kerr. The Sixers and Charles Barkley. Unfortunately for me, 1984 was the start of our supposed curse. One Liberty Place was erected, Billy Penn was in the shadows, and I had to be proud of rooting for a team that led the league in sacrifice bunts.

Even with the great players mentioned above, no championships were to be had. The Flyers came close, but lost to a juggernaut in the Oilers. The Sixers never found someone to compliment Barkley. I liked Mike Gminski as much as the next guy, but all he had was the G-Man jumper! Eagles always had dominating defenses and pathetic offenses. The Eagles of the late 80's & early 90's were much like Craig in the movie Friday. They had peanut butter and no jelly. Ham but no burger. Kool-aid but no sugar. Defense but no offense. So we wasted one of the greatest defensive teams ever assembled and along with a foggy day in Chicago, never even reached the big one.

1990 brought me back to the Common Wealth. I united with Jewbacca shortly thereafter and we met almost nightly to watch one of our teams fail. Sometimes FFMatt was there. Sometimes Malagan was there. The cast changed, the results remained the same...until 1993. Our senior year in high school something magical happened. A bunch of white trash looking quasi-athletes were put together that I think might have inspired the movie Major League. Some of them had talent, such as Daulton, Dykstra and Schilling. Some of that talent was "enhanced". We had pure hitters like Kruk and Milt Thompson, and a bunch of guys who all had career years at the same time. Pete Incavilia, Wes Chamberlain, Terry Mulholland, Mitch Williams, Kevin Stocker, the list goes on. So, we are 18 and the Phillies have the greatest season we had ever seen as sports fans. They beat the vaunted Braves to win the pennant and make the World Series. Most of us know what happened after that. Jewbacca came home from his freshman year at UD to watch at home with me and Malagan and a few others. Game 6. Looking good. Malagan utters something never to be repeated and we lose. Jewbacca and I go bowl the greatest games of our lives. I still have not seen a replay of that home run.

So that is it right? That as close as we had come to that point? We still had no idea what it was like to win a championship! To go to a parade! To hug a stranger! The Flyers looked close in 97, swept! The Sixers had no shot in 2001, but I had lost my interest in basketball when Barkley left so even if they had won I would not have counted it. 2004 The Eagles make it to the SuperBowl! We didn't know what to do with ourselves! Until they lost in embarrassing fashion...we knew exactly what to do with ourselves then.

Alas, will we never know? Will we never rejoice? We we never know what it feels like to puff out that chest and proclaim to our hated rivals in New York, or Dallas, or D.C. or Florida and say...WE ARE THE BEST! It did not seem so. The Friendly Friends had been dedicated sports fans for over two decades with no payoff. Our identity had been forged by the Lance Parrish's and Siran Stacey's. The Joe Carter's and Jon Gruden's. We had had enough!

Who knew something unforgettable and so unexpected was just around the corner. The Philadelphia Phillies seemed to turn a corner around 2000. An uncommon occurrence began. Young players from our system started to be called up and they looked like real players! At first Scott Rolen. A perennial gold glover and a solid offensive third baseman. Do we have a chance?!?!?! No, he wanted out, hated Philly and went to "Baseball Heaven". Back to square one. Then Pat Burrell showed up. Lots of power, lots of promise, lots of slumps. He wouldn't be enough. Jimmy Rollins shows up. Lots of speed, lots of glove, lots of first pitch swings and pop-ups! These two guys are pretty good, but so frustrating and surrounded by pitchers like Bruce Chen. Then this guy Chase Utley comes up and hits a grand slam for his first major league hit...hmmm, that gets your attention. We sign Jim Thome. Wow! New ballpark...bigger WOW! Brett Myers shows up, promising, volitile, scary? Thome has to go, because we have another prospect at 1st? Ryan Howard? Rookie of the year? MVP? What is going on here?!?! But wait...new cast, more talent, same results. Finish 1 game out, 3 games out, 1 game out...never closing the deal. Jamie Moyer joins the fold, Cole Hamels comes up, Victorino comes up...wow, it would be ashamed to waist all this young talent.

Mets collapse in 2007! Bull $hit! We beat them 10 straight, we EARNED that division! We were the hottest team in baseball going into the post season right? Wrong! Those Colorado Rockies, winners of 23 of 24 sweep the hell out of us in the first round! As my brother in-law said...we got Matsuied! At this point we are just about checked out as sports fans. We can't win it with this talent, we never will. The Eagles are on the decline, the Flyers can't adjust to the new rules, who gives a crap about the other team.

In comes 2008. The Phillies made a couple moves. They traded for a closer from the Astros who might have been a headcase after an Albert Pujols homer in the playoffs a few years before. He had lost something. But we needed arms and that put Myers back in the rotation. We had some hope. We were defending division champs after all! Things start well! Burrell and Utley are crushing the ball. Pitching is good. Howard is awful. We spent a majority of time in or around first all season. Howard goes in and out of slumps and has the quietest 48 hr 146 rbi season of all time. September rolls around and on September 17th we are 4 games out in the wildcard and 3.5 back in the division. We have them right where we want them! The Phillies go on to overtake everyone and finish with the second best record in the NL! Oh My! Victorino hits a slam off of C.C. "Cy Young" Sabathia! Oh Wow! We handle the Brewers with ease! Now onto the Los Angeles Manny's, I mean Dodgers. Cole Hamels, dominant. Matt Freakin' Stairs! Is this fun or what? We take care of the Dodgers with little trouble. Holy Crap! We are in the World Series! How did this happen?

We are facing the Tampa Bay Rays? Really? Well...I guess that made sense. If you look at our past, we had lost to the Red Sox, Yankees, Orioles & Blue Jays in the World Series. The only AL East team who hadn't beaten us in the Fall Classic were the Rays, so here we go! We split at Tampa, thanks to Cole. I will take it! Tim McGraw sprinkles some of Tug on the mound at the bank. That move was 2 parts cool, 1 part creepy. We win in walk off fashion in game three! Carlos Ruiz! We win in a yawner in game 4. Ryan Howard wakes up in a big way! Game 5, which took about 72 hours was a squeeker. Like a boxing match. Punch, counter, punch , counter. It set up the most exciting and gratifying three innings of baseball I have ever seen in my life. Geoff Jenkins! 1 hit and he is redeemed! Pat Burrell! Last at bat as a Phillie and he hits a double off of Manny's fence which ends up being the go ahead run! Oh my god! It is the 9th! We are winning! I am with my wife and my son at Jewbacca's house. C ould this be it? How would I handle it? How would I react? I can't think that way! It will jinx them! So in comes that headcase from Houston. Brad Lidge. Mr. Perfect. 41-41 in the regular season. 6-6 in the post season to that point. He was about to try and finish off the greatest single season by a closer in MLB history...or he was about to take another massive shot to his confidence, one I would not blame him for if he didn't recover. Pop Up! 1 away! Oh my god, we are two outs away from not knowing how to react! Base hit! Of course! We are gonna blow it! Screaming line drive with a guy on second! Oh my god! They just tied the game! Wait! It stayed up! Werth makes the catch! The fans cheer! I try and swallow my heart back into my chest! I look at Jewbacca. We both know what we are on the brink of. Mrs. Jewbacca can't look. Mrs. Sweaty is just praying I get to experience what it is like. Murphy is delirious with exhaustion on the couch. I think he just gave me the finger.

Up walks Eric Hinske. Lidge bears down. Called strike one! Fans erupt! Check swing, called strike two! I am shaking. I am nervous. Please god. Please, please, please! Swing and a miss!!!!!! OH MY GOD! I hug Jewbacca! I hug my family! I fall to the ground with tears in my eyes! My phone starts ringing like crazy! I share this once in my lifetime moment with others who have felt it. My brother, my father, my mother, my sister, Pissah, FFMatt. We are jumping around. We grab champagne! We run outside! Fireworks are going off all around us! Cars are honking horns! People are cheering in the streets and banging on pots and pans! Jewbacca and I go running down the street cheering every car! What we have been cheering for and screaming for and paying for for a quarter century has finally happened. The unlikeliest of teams, the Philadelphia Phillies, losingest franchise in professional sports history has just given us a WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What are we going to do now? We have just lost our identity as sports fans, and we couldn't be happier! We are going to a parade!!!!!!!!!!!

Charlie Friggin Manuel!

Everything is coming up roses for sweaty! I got time off. I got tickets to CPB for the festivities! Jewbacca and I meet Malagan and his family at the stadium and watch the parade from the seats! The players arrive. The stands are packed. They parade around, come to the podium to say a few choice words. Some choicer then others if you are Chase F'ing Utley! The banner is raised.

I can finally say...we are World Champions. The city of Philadelphia has finally gotten what it so very much deserved. Harry Kalas finally got to call a last out of a World Series. Jamie Moyer finally won a ring and in his home town. Pat Burrell finishes of a rocky career in style. Jose Reyes is ringless.

I can put away my angst for a couple years at least. I feel like Ralphy with his red rider bee-bee gun.

All is right with the world.

Take a look at some pictures that show why Philly deserved this...thanks to Philly.com

The Definitive 1000

2008-11-05T22:51:00.007-05:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

965 - Erin Andrews

I know it might seem odd that I would be making this entry into the Definitive 1000, what with this and all, but rest assured this was not my idea.

I won't argue that she's not hot, but she is still a sideline reporter, and therefore my sworn enemy.

But when the Mighty Malagan sends you this email:

Here’s my entry. Simply stated, just paste the link. Great song too!!! The 1:30 mark sums it all up

You don't argue.

So here is the Mighty Malagan's latest guest post and yet another enshrinement into The Definitive 1000.

Vote you Bastards

2008-11-04T13:12:00.003-05:00

Do as the legs say and nobody gets hurt. Unless you are into that.

All for One, Man

2008-10-29T22:57:00.002-04:00

Phinally. It was meant to be.

I asked my wife earlier if she minded if I get out with my fellow FF’s for the win I knew was coming. I was torn. We watched the season together.

I could tell she wanted me to go but needed me to stay. I didn’t know why.

Then the Phils did it.

After we pulled the kids out of bed and made them almost-shaken babies, after I ran 4 blocks, called my FF’s and almost died high-fiving SUV’s full of fans I came home to my family and my wife and celebrated. Then she mentioned her Uncle Mike.

My wife’s Uncle Mike lives in Florida. He moved there years ago. He loves the Phils and was at game two flying Philadelphia red. When they lost he said, “Christ, can’t I see them win before I die?!?”

Val’s Uncle Mike has months to live. He fought his cancer for years and recently it has spread to many of his organs. Tonight, Uncle Mike on the phone: “I’ve seen the Phillies win the world series… I can die in peace.”

I’m happy for our team, our city and what the win does for all of us.

But I’m most happy to know that this means so many things for one good guy.

So this win is all for you Mike... all for one man.

THE PHILADELPHIA PHILLIES ARE YOUR 2008 WORLD SERIES CHAMPS!!!!

2008-10-29T22:52:00.004-04:00

As Larry Anderson would say, "There are no words."

My identity as a Philadelphian has been shattered.

The Curse of Billy Penn is over.

Sweaty and I just exorcised the demons of 1993. We sat there in horrified silence in 1993 and we just ran around Glenside with champagne in 2008.

Something to Watch While You Wait For Wednesday Night

2008-10-28T14:45:00.003-04:00

Since I'm in a pretty black mood today anyway thanks to Bud Selig and his idiocy, AND we have to wait until at least Wednesday (baseball in 32 degree weather with 20 MPH winds!!) to watch the rest of Game 5, here is a brief diversion for your enjoyment.

Anyone that knows me knows that I dislike a lot of things. The list is too long to mention and grows every single day.

At the top of that list?

Sideline Reporters.

Ken Rosenthal and his awfulness come to mind immediately. I've never heard anyone that talked any slower and more dramatically about every....single....thing that popped into his mind. I pray for Ryan Howard to literally take a bite out of his head during their post game interviews

Why do they exist? Why do they waste my time with ridiculous "insights" and views on the game I'm watching. Especially really obvious ones like, "I talked to Coach X and he feels that his team needs to perform better in the second half. I talked to Coach Y and he feels that his team performed well in the first half and needs to keep their intensity up for the second half."

No f'in crap.

Here is a clip, from one of my favorites, With Leather, that shows exactly how useless, pointless and mind numbingly stupid sideline reporters are:

Seriously? You could have fact checked that in about a millisecond, seeing how Bill Walsh is dead and all.

A Brief Review of Game 5 So Far...

2008-10-28T12:42:00.004-04:00

We here in Philly have been waiting 25 years for a national championship of some importance (sorry Wings, Phantoms, Kixx and Soul), a championship that would kick off a celebration of epic proportions and a parade to be remembered for the ages.

And the fact that the local NBA team won the last championship in this city means that for some of us we've been waiting at least 28 years. I don't count the NBA as a sport, so that 1983 championship actually ranks lower than any of the recent ones won by the Wings, Phantoms, Kixx and/or Soul.

So how are we repaid by the baseball gods?

With this moron and his merry band of idiots in blue.

I understand the suspension of the game. I truly do. I don't argue with it. And had the Phillies still been up on the Rays and Selig decided to suspend the game at the start of the 6th, and NOT declare it a Phillies' win even though it was technically an official game, I would have been fine with that. A World Series should not be decided in a rain-shortened game.

But to make either team take the field or come up to bat in the sixth inning? One of the worst overall decisions I have ever, EVER seen.

Way to go Bud. You knew it was going to rain all night and you still let this game be played. You didn't stop it when the rains became torrential. You are an idiot.

So now instead of being a man, standing up to Fox and calling off the game before it started you've potentially ruined a World Series for the fans. And not just Phillies fans. All baseball fans.

As Sweaty (who is probably still too angry to see straight) commented to me earlier in an email: "This is exactly how I envisioned a World Championship moment going."

I hope Bud is thinking to himself right now that this situation is SO much better than just playing a postponed-from-the-start Game 5 on Wednesday or Thursday.

A Question to Our Readership

2008-10-24T09:02:00.002-04:00

Can someone please explain to me why FOX had no less than 10 cutaways to Maddon in the dugout during the 9th? Sweaty and I had 1210 on to avoid being infected with Tampa Fever by having unprotected aural with Joe Buck so we had no idea why they felt the need to show the manager of the Rays at least 10 times. In a half inning.

A Review of Game Two in One Word

2008-10-24T08:59:00.002-04:00

Pathetic.

Know Thine Enemy...And Mock Him

2008-10-23T20:05:00.004-04:00

Say what you want about Phillies fans and the City of Brotherly Love, but here are two things this town would never, ever, EVER do:

1. Print a "Baseball Primer" on the local news website. Seriously. Check it out. It contains such highlights as:

DOUBLE PLAY: A routine but difficult play in which the defense gets two outs with one pitch.

AND

UP THE MIDDLE: A ball hit back past the pitcher, over second base and into center field.

This is the fan base of the media darlings? Isn't baseball supposed to be our official past time here in America? Did a large contingent of Lost Tribes of the Amazon choose Tampa for their annual convention?

No wonder they bring cowbells and have blue mohawks. I can't take looking at these misfits any more, and it's been one game!

2. This:

As [Lidge] warmed up before the bottom of the ninth, the scoreboard showed a montage of film clips to rile up the fans. It ended with a snippet of Sylvester Stallone in a sweat suit, thrusting his arms to the sky at the top of the art museum steps in Philadelphia.

If the Phillies needed another positive omen — as if surviving 13 hitless at-bats with runners in scoring position were not enough — there it was. Lidge retired the side in order to end the game.

Sweet Mary on a pogo stick. Game one of the World Series was played in Tampa. In that abortion of a stadium. Against the PHILADELPHIA Phillies. And they used a clip...from Rocky...showing Stallone at the top of the steps...to fire up...the....RAYS?

There are no words.

[Tip of the Hat to The 700 Level, Philly's finest sports blog]

Game 1 World Series: 8:18 PM

2008-10-22T20:18:00.005-04:00

Two observations:

1. The Glory soundtrack by James Horner was a nice touch to the WS preamble featuring McCain and Obama. How true it is. Foreshadow much?
2. The fucking cowbells are worse than New Kids on the Block. During the Rays intro it sounded like a whole stadium's worth of contestants were spinning on Wheel of Fortune. I couldn't blast Stevie Wonder any louder and I still want a zombie outbreak in Tampa.

The Definitive 1000

2008-10-21T22:27:00.008-04:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

966 - The World Series

As I sit here on the eve of the Phillies' fourth trip to the World Series in my lifetime I began to reflect on the various feelings that the previous three brought:

1980 - I was 5. I'm sure a nice time was had by all. All I remember is there was suddenly a lot of Phillies stuff in my room

1983 - I was 8. I don't really remember much from being 8. I do remember that my organized baseball playing career came to an abrupt end when a grounder hit a rock in the infield and ended up hitting me full on in the mouth during t-ball tryouts.

1993 - I was 18. The entire 1993 season is one of my all-time favorite sports memories. Up to the final pitch of the 1993 season that is. I will never forget the total feeling of utter helplessness and despair when what happened, happened.

And this year:

2008 - I am 33. I don't know what's going to happen over the next week or so but I can say that I enjoyed the season so far. Not in the same way as 1993, since I'm no longer a slacker college student and I have a few more responsibilities now. And going in to the World Series I have a strange sense of calm. Excited, but calm.

One thing I do love about the Phillies being in the World Series is that it seems to have created an instant sense and feeling of camaraderie and friendship between people who wouldn't normally have the time of day for each other. Plus most conversations are about the Phils and the rotation and who's the DH going to be and how awful the Tropicana Dome is and how great it is that the city isn't putting any Phils garb on William Penn and how great the Phillies' sweep will be (note to the baseball gods, I don't agree with this sentiment so this is not a jinx statement) and where are we going to watch and what excuse will you use for work for the parade?

It's a nice feeling to have. We don't have a whole lot to agree on these days (see the previous post for more on this). And for this reason I hereby enshrine The World Series in the Definitive 1000.

Perhaps a World Series win will come in at #965??

For getting through all of this, may I present a hot Phillies girl, courtesy of
the fine folks at We Hate to Lose

Are YOU a Real American?

2008-10-21T21:55:00.002-04:00

I came home this evening to find out from Mrs. Jewbacca that we are NOT real Americans.

See, we are registered Independents since neither of us identify enough with either party to say we're a "D" or an "R." Couple that with the fact that we tend to lean toward the Democratic side of things AND the fact that in most peoples' minds Democrat=Liberal and you get this from CNN.com:

A North Carolina congressman locked in a tight re-election race admitted Tuesday to recently telling a crowd of John McCain supporters that "liberals hate real Americans," the latest in a string of comments from Republicans that appear to question Democrats' patriotism.

Ergo, we are not real Americans. There is no hope for us.

I guess our home ownership, our taxpaying history, the fact that we both work very hard at our jobs (another jab at "liberals" is that they don't have jobs where they have to work hard), our service to our community, our charitable donations and our American flag constantly waving from our front porch is not enough for some people. Oh well.

But here as a Friendly Friend public service is a quick quiz you can take to determine if you are a REAL American:

So how'd you all score? Any sudden ex-pats out there who want to gather in the local ex-American bar and watch the Phillies?

My Zombuddy David

2008-10-16T21:51:00.004-04:00

I'm so proud. One of my best friends made the Colbert Report. Check it out: That zombie pic? That's my boy David. He was a groomsman in my wedding. We go way back. We did all sorts of crazy things together, alive-things.

Apparently this image was sold as photostock and made it all the way to the big time.

THE PHILLIES ARE YOUR 2008 NATIONAL LEAGUE CHAMPIONS!!!

2008-10-15T23:35:00.002-04:00

Fifteen years ago I was a young buck freshman at the University of Delaware. We all packed into some guy's room in our dorm to watch the Phils take the NLCS from the hated Braves.

Our RA let us run wild for a while to celebrate. We took him up on it, pounding on all the doors in the dorm and then running outside to whoop it up.

What did I do tonight?

Enjoyed Harry the K on the radio coverage, wondered how those two Phillies Phans got seats behind home plate, thanked the heavens that there would be no more Manny talk this post season, quietly savored the victory. Woke up the Missus to let her know the news.

But I'm no less happy, just fifteen years older and a responsible member of society.

Should the Phillies break the 25 year curse in my fair city? That's an entirely different story. With the Eagles doing their usual mind-smashingly best to ruin my winter and the Flyers off to a 0-2-1 start, I can't be responsible for my actions should a parade occur here.

And this post? Finished and saved as a draft at 10:57 p.m. Sweaty might kill me for nearly jinxing the whole thing.

UPDATE: Thanks to The 700 Level you can now enjoy the final out the way it was meant to be...with Harry Kalas and a somehow not as annoying as usual Wheeler:

NLCS Game 2 "Live Picturebook"

2008-10-10T20:15:00.000-04:00

First off, The Friendly Friends would like to extend our deepest condolences to Charlie Manuel and his family.

Second off, stay tuned for one Friendly Friend's attempt to convey his deepest feelings through easy to understand pictures as the Phils battle the Dodgers in Game 2 of the NLCS:

Mid First Inning

Are you kidding me? Three up three down is about as good as we could hope for. Looks like Myers is on...

End First

It's half-full, people...it's half-full...

Mid Second

Good damage control by Myers, one run isn't a problem....right?

End Two

Myers for MVP of everything!

Mid Third

Serious Myers can still have MVP?

End Third

Three RBI??? You can absolutely keep that MVP.

Mid Fourth

There go the three RBI...thanks Ruiz!

End Fourth

Interesting stat during that inning...Ryan Howard is 2 for 17 with 1 run and 1 RBI in the postseason. Brett Myers is 4 for 5 with 3 runs and 3 RBI.

Mid Fifth

Just cruising along...

End Fifth

This Ryan Howard is only two hits behind the Phillies' Ryan Howard this post-season...

Mid Sixth

Thanks Durbin...

End Sixth

Not sure if 3 runs will be enough...

Mid Seventh

For the catch...

For the song...

End Seventh

I'm worried too Julie. They're getting hit a little too much...

Mid Eighth

Three up, three down for Madson...

End Eighth

Lidge, Lidge, Lidge, Lidge, Lidge...

Mid Ninth

THANKTHEEVERLOVINGLORD!!!! Can't the Phillies do anything easy???

As always the flower pics are from Mrs. Jewbacca's garden...

A Not So Obvious Reason Why DVR Is Awesome

2008-10-09T22:10:00.005-04:00

Through the magic of my newly acquired DVR I was able to pause my live TV long enough to let The Big Talker 1210's coverage of the Phillies game tonight catch up.

What does this mean? I've been listening to Larry Andersen, Scott Franzke, Harry Kalas and the other guy the whole game.

What is most awesome about that? THE TWO HARRY KALAS HOME RUN CALLS THAT JUST HAPPENED!!!

There's no way Joe Buck or whatever soul crushing, brain numbing Fox stuffed shirt had the same level of joy in his voice. And I'm also sure that they were able to work at least 4 Manny references into the HR call....

AWESOME UPDATE: PHILLIES WIN!! 3-2. If I had been listening to the Fox coverage I would have missed Larry's yells of joy after the final strikeout!

He Really Captured the Spirit of the Thing

2008-09-28T22:47:00.007-04:00

Reggie Dunlop motivating his team: I am personally placing a hundred-dollar bounty on the head of Tim McCracken. He's the head coach and chief punk on that Syracuse team.

Unless you've been under a rock this weekend you've no doubt heard that Paul Newman has lost his battle with cancer.

While there have been plenty of tributes throughout the weekend, all of which recount his incredible acting career, his love for racing and probably most importantly on a human level his tireless philanthropy, there has been one glaring omission in almost all of these tributes:

Reggie Dunlop on the Hanson Brothers: They're too dumb to play with themselves. Boy, every piece of garbage that comes into the market and you gotta buy it!

His portrayal of Coach Reggie Dunlop in one of my favorite movies of all time, Slap Shot.

I understand the omission especially when you weigh Slap Shot against some of his other movies and characters. Hud, Butch Cassidy, Fast Eddie Felson, The Verdict, The Sting, Cool Hand Luke and about 100 more that resonate more with the public than his portrayal of a down and out minor league hockey coach.

It's my favorite Paul Newman role and I have read in a few different places that Slap Shot was one of his favorite movie shoots. Maybe it should be given more consideration than it gets. At least he didn't take out a full-page ad to apologize for playing Coach Dunlop.

So if heaven has a low, low minor league hockey team, I hope Paul Newman is the player coach and I hope he motivates his players as well as he did in the movie.

Thanks Mr. Newman.

Reggie Dunlop on the Chiefs' fans: They spent their own dough to get here, and they came here to see us! All right, let's show 'em what we got, guys! Get out there on the ice and let 'em know you're there. Get that fuckin' stick in their side. Let 'em know you're there! Get that lumber in his teeth. Let 'em know you're there!

[All pictures courtesy of the awesome Slap Shot Tribute site]

Did the Focus Groups Know Major Tom Dies in His "Tin Can?"

2008-09-28T22:26:00.005-04:00

As much as I enjoy David Bowie, Cat Power and Lincolns (well, five dollar bills and Abe I guess) this latest entry in the "WTF Were the Ad People Thinking" files is brought to you by Mr. Bowie, Ms. Power and the fine people at Lincoln's ad house:

Seriously? You want me to equate your gas guzzling SUV with an ill-fated space flight in a capsule likened to a tin can that, oh yeah did I mention, ends up being the eternal resting place of one Major Tom?

I've said it before and I'm sure I'll be saying it again...and again...and again, I hate this stuff.

This is Cat Power/Chan Marshall. She is nice to look at and has a very nice voice. I don't blame her for this stupid ad.

It's Either a Flesh-Eating Virus or the Virulent Spread of a Soul-Eating Store

2008-09-17T20:41:00.006-04:00

From the very excellent Sociological Images website comes this graphical representation of the coverage of the US by Walmart.

What's more scary than the final product is how it happened. Click the link at Sociological Images and you'll get to see how this virus has ~~slowly~~ quickly taken over our country...

True story: I had to go to West Virginia on business and I flew into Roanoke, VA at around 11:30 p.m. US Air managed to lose my bag, though I was one of maybe seven people on the flight. I asked at the Roanoke airport where I could get some necessities at that late hour. Taking into account the 3 hour ride I still had ahead of me, they suggested I stop at a 24 hour Walmart. I did that. It was one of the scariest experiences of my life. Places like that should not be open 24 hours a day. I believe it may be the only outfit in the word actively recruiting in the CHUD community.

9/11/08

2008-09-11T12:25:00.003-04:00

Briefly:

Today takes the wind out of me. Think about the innocents that died today, 7 years ago, and hopefully you will feel it too. Think about the Middle East while you are at it.

I walked through my city this morning on an errand before work and people went on talking, texting… whatever it is they think is important today, right through when the first plane hit 7 years ago.

That’s good. That’s what those who lost their lives may have wanted. And those that took those lives do not want.

But I’m alive, and I want you to remember.

Please take a moment to remember everyone involved in 9/11, those left behind and the way the world is today. Say a prayer if that floats you boat.

Do something.

Would Adam Eaton Have Been Any Worse?

2008-09-10T09:39:00.003-04:00

Sweaty's review of Kyle Kendrick's 1 and 1/3 inning, 6 hit, 7 run appearance last night against the Marlins (with an assist to Homer Stokes):

Kyle Kendrick has done more damage to the reputation of the letter K than the Ku Klux Klan. He used a Confederate Flag as a Miss-ILE!

Pretty much sums it up succinctly.

My Morning Jacket: A Review

2008-09-05T23:03:00.005-04:00

Tonight was the My Morning Jacket show at the Festival Pier on Penn's Landing.

They seriously tore it up. Completely. They came on at 7:45 and finished at 10:15. Unbelievable. A great combination of old stuff, really old stuff, and awesome new stuff.

I got chill from What a Wonderful Man He Was and Golden put a tear in my eye as usual.

I stink at typical reviews, since all I can say is how freakin great the entire show was. And that would get boring. I don't know the first thing about describing music other than whether it was good or not. I blame Professor Cottle and his soul-sapping Music Appreciation class for that.

To put it in Friendly Friend Picturebook fashion:

7:45 pm to 10:15 pm:

So instead, here are my random observations from a night on Festival Pier, the second worst concert venue in the Philadelphia Area (Great Plaza I'm looking at you):

First, I'm now officially old. The first thing I did when we finally got in was to find a bench to sit on. Festival Pier is a standing room only venue but they provide a few benches that provide zero view of the stage. I sat down. First thing. I didn't have any desire to crush up near the front. I did eventually get up to get a beer and I did sand to watch the show.

Second,I like to collect doppelgangers for people I know, as well as for famous people when I'm in a crowded situation. Tonight I collected exact doubles for the following five people: FFMatt, Mrs. Jewbacca's Brother, Weird Al Yankovic, Kristen Dunst and MC Serch. Every one of them caused me to do at least a triple take.

Third,why do people feel the need to talk constantly through a concert. There were two couples in front of me who literally spent the entire concert talking to each other. The guys talked to each other, the girls talked to each other. During. The. Entire. Concert. Every single song, every break between songs, the entire f'in time. Why? Next time take your Abercrombie and Eagle Hollister whatever the heck popped collars and sit at a bar and talk. Leave me be when I'm enjoying live music.

It was pretty damn awesome, if I haven't mentioned it yet. If MMJ comes to your town, go see them.

I Make The Dough, You Get The Glory

2008-08-15T23:31:00.002-04:00

UPDATE: I honestly have no idea how this post got posted. I tried to embed this video in the post a couple down about Kathleen Edwards. It didn't work, hence the fact that there is just a link in that post. So how did it turn up yesterday at 11:51 p.m.? Especially since I just saw it on August 16 at 10:53 p.m.?

I have no earthly idea. Youtube is one helluva drug.

The Easiset Question of the Firefighter I Certification Test...

2008-08-07T15:58:00.003-04:00

Question No. 34:

Examine the following picture. Answer the question below the picture.

Please describe what adverse conditions affecting firefighting operations you observe.

The Definitive 1000

2008-08-07T14:01:00.007-04:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

967 - Kathleen Edwards

I love Kathleen Edwards. From the first time I heard "Six O'Clock News" on.

But why the sudden outpouring of love in the form of Enshrinement in the Much-Ballyhooed List of the 1000 Definitive Things?

I finally saw the video for "I Make the Dough, You Get the Glory" from her new album Asking for Flowers.

It's impossible not to love a song that features the following lyrics:

I'm a Ford Tempo you're a Maserati
You're the Great One, I'm Marty McSorley
You're the Concorde, I'm economy

And then you see the video and it only makes the song better. I finally got around to watching the video based on XPN's Michaela Majoun's recommendation. Pay close attention at the 1:09 minute mark.

Press PLAY

Donald Brashear may disagree with it, but this song and video is exactly what Definitive 1000 enshrinees are made of.

[Here's the inside story on the filming of the video which also features Paul Coffey]

New Sport of Kings: SpiderManHeadBall

2008-08-04T21:24:00.007-04:00

Growing up with a younger brother, the Mighty Malagan, we spent a lot of time inventing new games to play. They pretty much all involved physical pain and blocking a goal of some sort.

There was the game we played where one of us stood on the sidewalk with a tennis ball and tennis racket and tried to hit any part of the front of our rancher with the ball while the other played "goalie" and tried to block it.

There was the game where we piled all the sofa cushions and pillows at the end of the hallway and the goal was for one of us to run as fast as possible at the other, who blocked the cushiony pile, to try to get to the end of the hall.

There was the game where we put Mylec street hockey pads, a winter coat stuffed with pillows, a waffleboard, a baseball mitt and a street hockey goalie helmet on the Malagan, gave him a broom to hold and whaled lacrosse balls at him from close range.

There was the game we played in the basement of the duplex with mini hockey sticks and buckets for goals which morphed into the game in my bedroom with the IKEA desk as the goal and mini hockey sticks. And fighting. Mini hockey sticks, but full size hockey fights.

And of course, the aforementioned Suicide.

So, where am I going with this? Well, the Jewbaccas and the Sweatys just returned from a vacation to the seashore. The house we stayed in had a pool.

And what better way to spend a summer afternoon, evening, night than in the pool of a rented house playing SpiderManHeadBall??

What is that you say? Imagine water polo without the swimming, the skill, the stamina, or any of the athletic ability.

Imagine two large slightly idiotic, mostly immature mid-30 year old men winging this:

At each other from one end of a small pool to the other. In the dark. Wearing our glasses. In the pool.

I know you're all asking, why is this game called "SpiderManHeadBall?" Very simply, the ball we used was not the one pictured, since I can't find any pictures of it. The ball we used looked exactly like Spider Man's head and was also a ball so there you have it.

The object of this game was quite simply to wing the ball from the shallow end to the deep end, ostensibly to try and score on a goal made of Adirondack chairs on their sides.

For those of you who would like to try and replicate this game in their own pool, here is a picture showing the top two athletes at SpiderManHeadBall in an officially sanctioned SpiderManHeadBall pool:

Sweaty and Jewbacca playing SpiderManHeadBall. Or not. Possibly discussing who would have to go into the jungle on the other side of the fence to retrieve the SpiderManHeadBall and deciding that just floating in the pool drinking beer was a better option...

Mostly the game consisted of firing the SpiderManHeadBall in a fashion that sent it skipping on the water where it would conveniently disappear amongst the trillions of drops of water that splashed onto ones glasses causing them to not see the SpiderManHeadBall until a millisecond before impact. The goal is the two green chairs on their side at the end there in the picture. There was also a vicious suction vent at heel level at the bottom where the goalie stood making things all the more interesting as well as a million watt pool light that burned the crap out of you when you backed into it.

Good times. The only near major injury was when Sweaty fired one right past Jewbacca and he stupidly turned to see where it went as it came careening off the chairs and smashed him the glasses and mouth. Other than that, happily there were no injuries, alcohol-related or otherwise.

Just two 30-something idiots enjoying vacation. And beaning one another with a small dodgeball. That belonged to a 17 month old.

Top 5 Edible Mythological Beasts

2008-08-04T21:00:00.003-04:00

5. Harpeas (Pigasus eliminated)
4. The Hydrox
3. The Cornicorn
2. Kracken Oat Bran
1. The Minutemaidotaur

The Only Thing That Could've Made it Better Was if Harry Was There...

2008-07-23T10:23:00.012-04:00

Of course, I'm talking about the Phillies game last night.

I'll admit it: I actually started to do a live blog so I could pinpoint the exact second that Blanton exploded and ruined the season. I got up to the beginning of the 3rd inning and decided that nothing exciting was going to happen.

Next thing I know it's 3-1 and Jolly Cholly is getting tossed out!

Even though I still don't understand the Blanton trade* and I still think we're in for trouble tonight with Myers' return, I gotta hand it to them for pulling off the come from behind last night.

I guess the situational hitting that Charlie was so upset about during the Marlins series worked itself out for at least a half inning last night.

The ups and downs of last night's game seems to provide the perfect opportunity to break out an innovative new Friendly Friends series:

The Friendly Friends' Picturebook!

Here, in easy to follow picturebook format is how Jewbacca felt while watching the Phillies game last night:

1st Inning:

2nd Inning:

3rd Inning:

4th Inning through 8th Inning:

9th Inning:

* They got Blanton to "eat innings" which led to the best quote of the night when Sweaty called me and said "looking at Blanton it appears he ate more than innings."

And if the prospects that the Phillies refused to trade for Sabathia or a better pitcher than Blanton are so good, why not just call them up instead of trading for Joe "Adam Eaton" Blanton?

Flowers courtesy of Mrs. Jewbacca and her gardens!

The Definitive 1000

2008-07-16T10:31:00.019-04:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

968 - The ~~Wachovia~~ Spectrum

It's dumpy. It's small. Its roof wouldn't stay on.

But it is also front and center in so many memories for the Friendly Friends.

The Philly papers and websites are filled with rememberances for the old barn. And they all center on the same few things: Flyers and some basketball teams' championships, Olga Korbut, Bruce, Billy Joel, Christian Laettner's shot and the Grateful Dead.

But those are the party-line, let's shine it up and make it look good memories.

The Friendly Friends would like to celebrate the life of this old building through the eyes of the common man. Not through the eyes of the Comcast PR department. So without further ado, and in no particular order, here are some random thoughts and memories of times spent with the Spectrum.

From Sweaty:

Going to a Philadelphia Phantoms game with FFMatt. The game itself was uneventful. But for the first and only time in my life, I caught a sling shotted t-shirt launched towards us. FFMatt positioned himself in front of me as a pick. The shirt was launched; I reached for it and snagged it with one hand! Yes! I rule! The guy behind me did take a chunk of skin out of my hand with his disturbingly long fingernails, but it was worth it. The shirt, I wore until it disintegrated. There were also two tickets to a future Phantoms game inside the shirt. To complete the circle, I went to that game with Jewbacca. He and I had seats right behind the goalie. They were little folding seats, and Jewbacca and I are on the larger side, so we decided to go sit up in the cheaper seats.

Is this the guy that scratched Sweaty?

From Jewbacca:

First and foremost, the Spectrum will always mean Flyers hockey to me. Both live and on PRISM (Philadelphia Regional In-Home Sports and Movies). How cool is it that Flyers games from the Spectrum were broadcast exclusively on a cable channel called PRISM? My earliest sports memories with my dad have nothing to do with the usual American, Norman Rockwell baseball scenes. They all involve the Flyers. My dad would get 4 or 5 games a year to go to and he'd take me to one, The Mighty Malagan to one and usually my mom to the others. We'd sit in the first row of the second level and use the ledge in front of us as a table for our sausage sandwiches and sodas. He'd explain the finer points of the game and why we had to whistle every time Ron Duguay touched the puck. He made sure that we left that Nordiques game at the end of the second period with the Flyers down 3-0 since it was a school night. We listened as the Flyers came back to win 4-3 in OT.

We battled about bedtimes when the Flyers were on. Home games meant 7:05 and at least half the game before bedtime at 8:30. They also meant Ed Van Impe from the bowels of the Spectrum interviewing someone between periods who would get a gift certificate to some men's store or a watch. Those intervies dragged for an 8 year old who only had until 8:30!

But seeing the colors in the Spectrum logo at center ice in person, or on PRISM, was always awesome.

My god. That hair. How could you not wolf-whistle at that?

From Sweaty:

The Sixers Dancer I named "Candy". Watching the dreck that was the Sixers at the time, including Jeff Hornacek (AKA K.D. Lang), Jeff Malone and Clarence Weatherspoon was all worth while thanks to that little blonde vixen.

Candy?? Is that you??? Did you get all of my voicemails and text messages? You did? What's this? A restraining order?? Exactly how far is 500 yards anyway....

From FFMatt:

Besides the years of Flyers games and childhood Ringling Brothers Circus experiences, and Wiggles concerts for my kids I was at the Flyers season opener after the strike ended. HUGE pumped crowd, insane energy and it all quickly devolved into E-A-G-L-E-S EAGLES chants as the Flyers stunk up the ice with a season opening loss. Back where we belong!

Sweaty will always have Candy and FFMatt will always have these guys...and thousands of drunk idiot Eagles fans.

From Jewbacca:

In sixth grade a new sport dawned into my puberty fevered brain. The Eagle League Pro Box Lacrosse outfit (now the MILL or the MLL or NLL or something) came into existence with the Washington Wave, the Baltimore Thunder, the New York/New Jersey Saints and most importantly the Philadelphia Wings. This was earth shattering to a young Jewbacca. As soon as I was old enough to drive, me and the Malagan would go to the Showcase store (an offshoot of the Spectrum and Spectacor) at the Willow Grove Park Mall and we'd get TicketTron tickets to every single home game the Wings played. We'd usually get two extra and invite friends along. We'd all pile into my 1981 Chevy Impala and cruise down to the Spectrum, blasting our good luck mixtape, which inexplicably contianed 3 songs from Achtung Baby, 3 songs from Queen's Greatest Hits (the blue one) and some other songs long forgotten.

We'd enter the sports mecca and settle in for a couple hours of the best parts of all sports: the hitting and fighting of hockey, the speed of...well hockey again, the high scoring of....well this time I'd have to say early 80's hockey and the shot clock of basketball. We'd scream our lungs out for the Gaits, Dallas Eliuk, John Nostrant, Tony Resch (who incidentally was my buddy Jim's math teacher at Penn Charter), and anyone else wearing the silver and black. We even got to sit next to Chopper at a pre-season Wings/Pittsburgh Bulls game.

Without missing a home game (pre-, regular and post-season) for four years, we still managed to miss all four of the Wings' championships, but did see them lose one to the Buffalo Bandits in OT. We also saw a game called against the Detroit Turbos since every single player on both teams got into a major bench clearing brawl. The Turbos disappeared after that.

This is Chopper. He leads his entire side of the arena in a W-I-N-G-S Wings(!) chant and taunts opposing players coming to the box. He is a god.

From Sweaty:

Going to my first ever Wings game with Jewbacca and his brother Malagan. I had always scoffed at the Wings as a secondary sport, but I was truly entertained and have since been to many games. I was dazzled by the Gait brothers and the sprawling saves of Dallas Eliuk. The Wings, as it turned out were right...I paid for the whole seat, but only used the edge

From Jewbacca:

Fine. You want a basketball memory of the Spectrum? My hatred of basketball notwithstanding, I do have two minor Spectrum related basketball memories. My dad's friend scored Sixers-Celtics tickets in 1984 or 1985. They had four and I guess no one else could use them so the Malagan and I got to go. I remember two things from that night: 1) when my dad's friend drove his Toyota mini-bus/van thing over a cement island to get around a traffic light (red by the way) and 2) walking through the Spectrum lot wearing my Celtics painter's cap that I specifically asked for when my dad was in Boston on business. I hated the Sixers then and since the Celtics were one of their biggest rivals, I'd proudly wear that. Being ten and in South Philly wearing a Celtics hat I was treated exactly as I thought I would be: by having my life endangered by taunting Sixers fans until my dad ripped the hat off my head and pocketed it.

My Celtics painter's cap looked just like this. Except it was a hat and not a hot cheerleader. It was mostly green though.

From Sweaty:

Going to a Sixers game with Mighty Malagan, again, with a horrible Sixers team and sitting close enough to the Sixers bench that they were within earshot. How did I know they were within earshot? Because Jewbacca's brother kept yelling out the name of Rex Walters. Rex Walters could have been up for 12th man of the year in basketball. A poor little white guy who found himself the last man on the bench. Malagan kept calling his name...for 48 minutes. While sitting on the bench, while he stood near the sideline...Malagan called "Rex! Rex Walters!” A fruitless pursuit right? Wrong. Low and behold, the final team timeout of the game, Rex is standing in the team huddle pretending to be paying attention, as if he had anything to do with the play being drawn up. Malagan is still hoarsely yelling his name...then it happens. Rex Walters raises his eyebrows and looks up at Malagan and gives him a head nod acknowledgement. What does Malagan do? He giggles like a school girl and shuts up for the last 40 seconds of the game.

I did a GIS for "Rex Walters." I got a picture of Gemma Atkinson. Which would you have put here?

From Jewbacca:

I saw my first ever concert, the best concert I've ever seen and had the most fun I've ever had at a concert all at the Spectrum.

First concert: Midnight Oil on the Blue Sky Mining tour in 1991. Peter Garrett is a very, very intense man. He did a dive off of the top of a stack of Marshalls during a cover of "What's So Funny 'bout Peace Love and Understanding" that would have killed a mere mortal.

Best concert: Peter Gabriel on the Us tour in 1992 or 1993. Sweaty can back me up on this one, but I think he did three separate encores, the last of which was after the lights and house music came back up. He came out and talked to the crowd for about 5 minutes, thanking Philly for all their support during his career. It was the most theatrical concert I've been to, and also one of the best all-round musically.

Most fun at a concert: Barenaked Ladies, New Year's Eve 1999(98?). Possibly the best stage presence of any band I've ever seen (and I've seen a lot having worked Event Staff security for 4 years at the Tower, the Mann, the Civic Center and even the Spectrum). Sponataneous rapping, unbeliveably strange dancing and a midnight phone call to Kevin Hearn in the hospital back in Toronto to countdown to the new year all made it memorable. Plus, Mrs. Jewbacca got me the tickets for Christmas that year. I had Kraft Macaroni and Cheese in my shoes when I got home!

From Sweaty:

Early in the summer of 1993, I was adjusting to the freedom of now more mandatory formalized education. Released from the shackles of Springfield High school, I was looking forward to the summer of love...or, as it turned out for me, summer of I like you but not in that way.

But before the weekend trips to the Jersey Shore would take place. Before drunken nights passing out in Turkey Clubs (the sandwich, not a night hot spot), before working 1 day in an Ice House and 2 weeks as a beach tagger in Sea Isle City...I and other Friendly Friends such as Jewbacca had to kick the summer off right with my first ever concert! I am proud to say that my first concert ever still holds up as one of my favorites as Peter Gabriel came to town promoting his new album Us. The Spectrum was arockin' that night my friends. Peter Gabriel knew how to put on a show, and he made sure to include Solsbury Hill to appease the Gods. The Gods being me & Jewbacca. As I said, still one of my favorite concerts of all time and the only one I saw at the Spectrum. Pissah was there as well, and shockingly, he found something to complain about. Because he never complains about anything!

So there you have it folks. Some of the Friendly Friends' memories of the Spectrum. Of course there are more, but these are the ones that stand out.

Unfortunately my most recent visit (Phantoms game this past spring) left a bad image for me. They've let the place run down quite a bit. It was clear at that time that they had stopped trying and knew it was only a matter of time before a soul-less, corporate, Disney-like "entertainment" center was built over its grave. I guarantee you, I won't be making that just-long-enough-to-be-extrememly-annoying-not-long-enough-to-risk-my-life-at-Fern-Rock-to-take-the-subway trip to this new complex. Maybe if I'm at the Center or the Bank I'll brave the crowd of annoying South Jerseyans long enough to check it out.

But for the memories it invokes and the times we've spent there, the Friendly Friends are proud to add The Spectrum to the Definitive 1000!

[Feel free to leave your memories in the comments. Thanks to http://www.e-lacrosse.com/ for the picture of Chopper.]

Did you know that "Spectrum" is actually an acronym for Sports-Entertainment-Concerts-Theater-rum. The "rum," as in Auditorium, was all the rage in 1967 for newly built arenas (see Centrum, Worcester)

Chase Utley is the F'ing Man Reason #734

2008-07-15T15:18:00.003-04:00

NSFW Audio...

F'ing A right. "Boo? F--- You!"

Now why can't Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny, JD Drew and Scott Rolen have the same attitude about getting booed instead of being all sad about it?

Celebrities that Probably Smell

2008-07-04T12:37:00.012-04:00

In this segment we propose that celebrities stink... and how.

The look that launched a thousand Hepa filters.

Wow. You feel that in your nose? The change in sinus pressure like the bow wake before a thunderstorm? That tinny taste in your throat?

Gotcha. You aren’t sucking on a Luden’s watch battery, you are thinking about Jonathan Pryce.

You know it. He knows it. So let’s just stop the pretending and get really real:

A steaming mug of Pepto Bismol. A suprised skunk. A prostitutes pillow case in July.

It is impossible to believe that isn’t what our esteemed actor, who is known for playing slight, effete, quirky, scary and always off-center roles both on and off the stage must smell like.

If you don't believe me then attend the local role playing game convention, stand in the men's room and say "Pryce" out loud. You will receive (unwashed) high fives from heavily costumed wizards, orcs, warriors, theives and C++ programmers who defer to their inspiration in persperation.

No better time than the 4th of July to declare our independence of effervescence by fanning the face of freedom due to a British aromatic actor, a Celebrity… That Probably Smells.

See the armed guy next to Pryce? With the pinched face? He isn't acting... he's that close.

Technological Advancements Rendering Songs Anachronistic

2008-07-03T08:22:00.004-04:00

Dear Barenaked Ladies,

They have pre-wrapped bacon now.

You were right all along.

Still no Dijon ketchup though.

Sincerely,
Jewbacca

Diamonds in the Rough? The Proverbial Last Pieces of the Puzzle?

2008-07-01T22:40:00.003-04:00

I feel the need to weigh in on the Flyers' activity during this first day of free agency in the NHL.

Ossi Vaananen, one year, $1,000,000
Glen Metropolit, two year deal, terms undisclosed
Nate Raduns, one year deal, terms undisclosed.
Sean Curry, 2 years, undisclosed.

Hmm. They also traded Denis Gauthier and a 2nd Rounder to the Kings for Patrik Hersley and Ned Lukacevic.

Slightly underwhelming, but I think Homer knows what he's doing. Right?

I mean, Curry and Raduns have a total of 0 NHL games between them and Vaananen hasn't played in the NHL since 2006-2007. I know the cap wasn't going to allow any big names to come to Philly but...

I do believe that the Rangers overpaid for Redden (6 years, $39 million) and it looks like Streit wouldn't have fit under the cap here since the Isles got him for 5 years, $20.5 million. Even with the tinkering done in the days leading up to today I doubt there was any way to get him in there. And obviously Brian Campbell going to the Blackhawks for 8 years, $56.8 million made him unavailable to the Orange and Black.

[UPDATE: Jonesy likes Metropolit and Vaananen as "depth guys" to add to the core. I'm not one to argue with Jonesy.]

The Definitive 1000

2008-06-25T09:00:00.000-04:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

970 - Run The Bases
969 - Suicide

It's a Friendly Friends Two-fer ~~Tuesday~~ Wednesday!

All we needed to play two of the best games. Ever.

Sweaty, FFMatt and I all grew up in relative close proximity to one another. Which makes sense since Sweaty and FFMatt are related and Sweaty and I went to high school together.

This geographical closeness meant that we played the same games as kids, though I didn't meet Sweaty until I was 15 or so. And he lived in East Falls and Bumble-F, New Jersey and I lived in Wyndmoor.

FFMatt is sunning his 27 inch (yeah, that's right) pythons at the Jersey shore this week, so Sweaty and I have been left to tend the store. We spent a good amount of time discussing the pure awesomeness of these two games.

This guy only has 24 inch pythons. FFMatt has 27 inch pythons. True story.

And without further ado, here are the reminiscences of 2/3 of the Friendly Friends:

Sweaty: So. I think we both agree that Suicide and Run the Bases are two of the finest games ever invented by children who's parents could not afford to send them to hockey camp.

Jewbacca: Suicide and Run the Bases are two of the best non-sport sports that any one has ever played. And we got to go to Willow Grove Summer Day Camp. My parents couldn't afford it but my grandfather's cousin owned it so we got a discount.

Sweaty: I never went to any kind of camp, except football in high school. No, during my youth, day camp was called try not to get abducted by men driving El Caminos and offering jolly rancher sticks. But I digress. I agree with you. I always preferred Run the Bases a little more because I think it was more of a pure athletic skill game, where Suicide used more deception.

Jewbacca: You know my brother and I. You've seen and lived the battles. My parents decided that if they left us alone all summer one or both of us would end up dead and the house would have been destroyed. I loved both games, but you're right I have to give the edge to Run the Bases and not just because we always played at the Krzywicki's, which would allow the occasional glimpse of Jill.

Sweaty: Perhaps we should start off by giving a brief overview of each game and then we can see where certain rules may have differed with you playing these games in the warm safe softness of the grassy fields in Wyndmoor, were as I played them in the hard, survival instinct drenched inner city street of Philadelphia.

Jewbacca: Well, here is the way we played Run the Bases on the hardscrabble fields of Wyndmoor: There would be a whole mess of kids ranging in age from about 6 to 12. Two kids would be on the bases. Two of the other kids' baseball gloves would be the bases. The idea was to run back and forth from base to base without getting pegged by the tennis ball or tagged out by the basemen. That is the basic framework as we played in the 'Moor.

Sweaty: That is pretty much how we played too, except we used manhole covers which were he perfect distance apart.

Jewbacca: There weren't too many manhole covers in the field behind the Krzywicki's. There was also another rule where after the ball went back and forth 3 times from baseman to baseman, everyone on the basepath HAD to run to the next base.

Sweaty: Yeah, we also had that rule, but I can't remember how many throws you needed. I remember that I preferred being a runner. I was damn good.

Jewbacca: I was awesome at running too. That was about 20 years and 200 pounds ago though. Now I'd end up with "Penn 1" tattooed into my forehead. The best was using the younger kids as human shields.

Sweaty: Same for me, except I most likely would have ended up in intensive care with a tennis ball lodged somewhere and my left arm would be numb, I didn't do too much of that shield thing, since I was normally one of those little kids. My run the bases days ended when I was 9 and my parents moved us to South Jersey. Without any man hole covers, I did not know what to do, so god help me, I played basketball. So in my prime run the bases years 6-9, I was lean, mean, spry, quick, and obnoxious. I would taunt the throwers mercilessly. One was normally my older brother.

Jewbacca: You're still pretty obnoxious. Not as spry. See, I think our Run the Bases years and our Suicide years may be reversed. We played a ton of Suicide from when I was 6 and we moved form Philly to the 'burbs until I was 9 and we moved to a neighborhood with absolutely zero good Suicide walls. We played Run the Bases almost every summer night from when I was 9 until I was about 14.

Sweaty: I continued to play suicide in Jersey. Thomas Jefferson Elementary provided one of the finest suicide walls this side of the Rio Grande. As far as suicide went...my best skill was catching the ball in the air, followed closely by screaming like a woman as I ran to the wall after dropping the ball.

Jewbacca: The first place we lived in Wyndmoor was in the bottom of a rented duplex that was roughly twenty feet from the house next door. The driveway for the house next door was our side yard. It made the absolute perfect Suicide court, what with two walls 20 feet apart. My greatest skill I think was my power of avoiding the ball so as to remain in the game as long as possible. Erdenheim Elementary also had great walls as did Enfield Middle where we played everyday during sixth grade, the last year we had recess of any kind. I'm proud to say that along with my friend Jim I was part of a duo known as "Slodge" which of course was "Slide" (Jim) and "Dodge" (Me). My strategy was to run up to the wall and stop before hitting it, turn and face the person trying to bean me, and dodge it at the last minute. If being part of "Slodge" is any indication, I didn't have many girlfriends in my younger days. So what were the basic rules of Suicide in Washington Twp?

Why Suicide? Maybe because the goal was to run as fast as you could, toward one of these, to smack it and yell "SAFE!!", before someone whaled you in the back with a tennis ball...

Sweaty: Nor did I, as my uncanny resemblance to Rick Moranis in Ghostbusters when I was in elementary would explain. Suicide in Washington TWP was pretty straight forward. One large wall, one tennis ball and a group of young men ranging from about 9-14 years of age. One person would throw the ball. If the ball was caught in the air, the thrower had to run and touch the wall before getting pegged by the person who caught it. If you dropped the ball while trying to catch it either on the fly or on a bounce then you had to touch up before someone picked up the ball and pegged you. If after dropping the ball, you kicked it away, then you were automatically out and wre penalized by standing at the wall while someone got to peg you.

A young Sweaty Irishman after a particularly rough day of Suicide

Jewbacca:We had basically the same rules. If you threw the ball and someone caught it in the air, you had to run and touch the wall and yell "SAFE" or "SUICIDE" before they pegged you. If you tried to catch the ball and it touched you and you didn't catch it, you had to leave it there and run and touch the wall before getting pegged. If you got three outs you had to walk back and forth along the wall (without stopping or changing speeds) and each player got a chance to peg you with the ball. At school they didn't like the three-outs-get-pegged rules so we changed it to if you got an out, you were out and we played until one kid was left. I think also that if you missed someone you were trying to peg you had to run and touch the wall.

Sweaty: We also had a penalty for someone who pegged another after that person had touched the wall. The peggee pegged the pegger from point blank range.

Jewbacca: I never really thought about how many of our games involved trying to whale on someone with a tennis ball.

Sweaty: I know. Most games when we were kids involved inflicting pain on others. Times have changed...They wouldn't even let kids play something called Suicide nowadays.

So there you have it, two childhood games from the post-Atari, Colleco-/Intellivision, pre-Nintendo era where we were allowed to play outside until the streetlights came on. And for all the pegging and whaling and nailing with tennis balls, I don't recall anyone ever getting hurt. Too badly.

I'd be willing to guess that kids today aren't playing these games until 9:15 on a summer night anymore.

I Hate Interleague Play.

2008-06-19T09:22:00.005-04:00

Could it be sour grapes from dropping 2 of 3 to the goddamn Red Sox at home?

Sure could.

But I am not a fan of anything in sports that smacks of pure gimmickry.

Glowing pucks? Worst. Idea. Ever.
Designated Hitter? Ridiculous.
The trapezoid behind the goal? Why?
The shootout? Shoot me.
The shootout, soccer division? How can a world wide tournament be decided by a skills competition? How about a game of UNO Attack instead.
Aluminum bats? Do sportswriters wax poetic about the "ping" of the bat? I think not.
The NBA? Waste of time.

Interleague play is an abomination visited upon one of the most tradition-bound sports. It's a pure money grab by the league and the team owners. Some 100 years went by without the Leagues playing until the Fall Classic.

MLB foists these ridiculous "rivalries" on teams that have no history. Phils-Red Sox? San Diego-Detroit? Seattle-Anyone in the NL?

Sure, the Subway Series and the Show-Me Series and the Citrus Series may pique some interest, but why not play them in the pre-season and award a nice, shiny trophy? Why do we need to interrupt the divisional races for a Phillies-Rangers series? Who cares?

Beyond the fact that all of this seems like nothing more than a Fox-Trax type gimmick, it is blatantly unfair.

How, you ask? Let's look at the numbers.

(A couple of caveats before we delve into my tens of minutes of research: 1. I know that the scheds are made prior to the season and there is no way to figure how teams will be doing by the time Interleague play rolls around; 2. I know there is an imbalance in the number of teams in each league. Bottom line: two great reasons to abolish interleague play once and for all. More on this later.)

Just parsing the NL East, the only division I care about at this juncture:

The Phillies play 15 games against 5 different teams who have a combined W-L record of 199-166 and an average team ERA of 3.98.

The Mets play 15 games against 4 different teams (I guess the subway series is a best of 6?) who have a combined W-L record of 143-147 and an average team ERA of 4.49.

The Marlins play 15 games against 4 different teams (I guess the citrus series is also a best of 6) who have a combined W-L record of 136-150 and an average team ERA of 4.10.

The Braves play 15 games against 5 different teams who have a combined W-L record of 178-184 and an average team ERA of 4.15.

The Nationals play 18 games against 5 different teams (Baltimore twice? The team whose owner tried to keep baseball out of DC for so long?) who have a combined W-L record of 176-184 and an average team ERA of 4.51.

How is this fair?

Teams spend the lion's share of a baseball season playing against their own division to win a quaint little thing called the pennant. They spend a little less time playing against the other teams in their league (roughly the same number of games as the other teams in their division) to round out the competition. Then suddenly they have to play against the other league?

It would be one thing if this was the NFL and the whole division played games against another whole division or the NHL where each team played a home and home against every team in the other conference (which they hopefully will return to shortly), but it's not. There is not a single common AL opponent that all NL East teams play this year.

Ditch Interleague play, now. It's useless. It's annoying. It breaks up an exciting season of intra-division games. At the very least, shelve the stupid thing until the divisions have an equal number of teams and the NL East can play the AL East and so on.

What's that? The Mets still have to play 6 against the Yankees? The Nats still have to play 6 against the O's?

Why? Money?

My point exactly.

R.I.P. Defenseman

2008-06-13T09:46:00.004-04:00

In case you haven't noticed, I am a lifelong Flyers fan. I watched every game growing up looking forward to hearing Gene Hart's perfect pronunciation of the Russian and Eastern European players' names.

I know. I was a strange child.

One of the greatest names is no longer with us:

Miroslav Dvorak, named the winner of the Barry Ashbee Trophy as the Flyers' top defenseman in 1983-84 - and a player whose off-ice demeanor reminded some teammates of a legendary Saturday Night Live skit - died Wednesday in the Czech Republic after a long battle with throat cancer, the club announced yesterday.

Not only did he have a cool name, he was a pretty good defenseman too. Always on the plus side (a career +58), plenty of helpers (74 assists over parts of 3 seasons) and was a physical presence on the ice.

He also helped the team make the finals in 84-85 against the Oilers before returning to Europe to finish his career.

It's always strange when an athlete you remember watching as a kid dies. Rest in peace Defenseman.

[Thanks to Philly.com for the story and Czechfan.com for the picture]

It's Gotta be the Shoes Stirrups...

2008-06-12T22:23:00.003-04:00

How else do you explain a 45 year old pitcher scattering 2 hits over 8 innings for a 3-0 shutout in the heat and humidity of South Florida?

Two hits ties Moyer's career low, which Harry Kalas pointed out he did for the first time in 1986. In 1986 I was in freaking 6th grade!!

The only explanation (besides of course conditioning, playing a sport that only involves participation every five days, throwing a whole lot of ground balls and pop-ups, etc.) is the stirrups:

The Friendly Friends Tackle the NBA Officiating Brouhaha...

2008-06-11T13:31:00.003-04:00

Since I hate the NBA and basketball in general, and Sweaty and FFMatt have much better things to do, we've brought in a guest blogger to enlighten us all on the finer points of the possible NBA officiating scandal.

He is none other than the Mighty Malagan.

He emailed me this after much research, soul-searching and other forms of deep introspection. Reprinted below is the entirety of his treatise on the current state of affairs in NBA officialdom. Strap yourselves in....

Guest blogger: Mighty Malagan

Topic: Sports Blog

Recent NBA refereeing scandal: WHO CARES?!?!

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Camden, Poopgea and the New Order

2008-06-04T23:04:00.006-04:00

We flash forward.

ZAM!

The year is 2042. After the skyrocketing crime rate in Philly finally goes critical a mass exodus of obese guys, all with names Pat and Geno, waddle over the Ben Franklin Bridge causing a disastrously strong constructive tectonic wave that not only destroys the bridge and all connections between the two cities but pushes the two away from each other at an alarming speed.

Eerily this is foreseen 22 years earlier in a movie from Roland Emmerich starring Jake Gyllenhaal, called "The Exodus the Day After Tomorrow". This new land breaks apart from the rest of the continental United States roughly along the Delaware River and surprisingly, and quite coincidentally, right along the northern state line--although it does take Long Island with it which is called Paumanok by the Native Americans meaning, "Whale Penis". The "Whale Penis" and the turd shaped island of New Jersey, or Poopgea, float east into the Atlantic.

Poopgea is immediately thrown into turmoil. It is quickly divided into two regions separated by the Jersey Turnpike: West is a prison-like facility resembling those from John Carpenter films, but not "They Live", and east the Gold Coast of Atlantic City, Asbury Park and Cape May, where the King, Steve (no longer the Prince) resides in his ivory lighthouse and reigns over his subjects using his immense wealth of Skeeball tickets, the new currency, amassed over the course of his "Boardwalk Campaign of Terror" to placate his foes with cheap plastic rings and fake insects.

From the Sagging Nipple of New Jersey, as shown in this rendering of the new land (See Picture), to Bruce Springsteen, the Boss of New Brunswick, a Hoagie of Hopelessness squeezes the North and the South causing pandemonium and resulting in a Civil War that ends two days later when the exhausted and quite winded residents throw in the towel and have a couple of Whiz wits. Why are they so good you ask? Is it the bread made with the famous Schuylkill Punch or is it Ed Rendell's famous secret recipe? Who knows?

The answer unfortunately drifts off with the hellhole known as Jersey where they eventually distill their own pee and fight over gasoline and the remaining jars of processed cheese spread.

Zam! We're back. I'm tired. I think I'll go home now.

I need help...

2008-06-04T06:50:00.002-04:00

I am stumped. I can't think of anything to write. So I turn to you. I am taking suggestions on what my earth-shattering post should be about. So throw your ideas my way. I will take the best one. I know its a dangerous idea; however I will hold to it as a punishment for not writing anything yet.

So, do your worst.

It's really coming...

2008-05-28T11:00:00.004-04:00

An earth shattering post from long-lost Shamalama!

Are you ready? Are you on the edge of your seat? Good. It happens today. For real this time. No joke.

An Unfortunate Anniversary

2008-05-28T09:32:00.002-04:00

Like a punch to the gut that leaves you gasping for breath, I heard on the radio today that ten years ago on this date the Patron Saint of Comedy for The Friendly Friends was taken from us.

Without further ado, here is a re-run of The Friendly Friends' tribute to Phil Hartman....

#990 - Phil Hartman

FFJewbacca: Here’s how to sum up the genius of Phil Hartman:

1. Lionel Hutz
2. Troy McClure
3. The Smurfs
4. John “Vicky” Johnson
5. Quick Change
6. The Sinatra Group
7. Pee Wee’s Big Adventure
8. Soylent Green is made out of people! PEOPLE!
9. Three Amigos!
10. Lyle Lanley and the Monorail Song

When the Friendly Friends meet, at least 7 of these characters or lines will be quoted ad nauseum.

Name one other performer with the same range and the same profound effect on pop culture. Phil Hartman had a hand in all 10 of these things either as a performer or writer.

And these are just the 10 things that the Friendly Friends discuss on a regular basis during our live stage shows. Which by stage shows I mean sitting at the bar or while playing video games.

But you get my drift. This list leaves out his brilliance in NewsRadio, his voiceover work in cartoons ranging from Duck Tales to GoBots, all of his other brilliant SNL characters (such as the “Sassy” guy), the countless other movies he’s been in, and the fact that he started out designing album covers for CSNY and America.

Unreal.

FFMatt: He’s the ultra mega bomb even from beyond the grave. On SNL from ‘86 to ’94 he killed me up with his ability to play a supporting character that totally steals scenes. And while his movement and facial expressions where hilarious, it was his voice that had such unbelievable character and range. Take a look at IMDB and you’ll see a ton of voice work. That wasn’t luck. That was skill, which rhymes with Phil.

When I heard he died I actually filled up a bit. The first thing I thought was that I always figured I’d meet him at an airport and tell him thanks for all the laughs and I figured that unlike most celebs, he’d probably appreciate yet another Joe thanking him for what he seemed to do even when he wasn’t getting paid for it. I felt robbed. I think everyone did.

He reminds me of that one guy that everyone knows that can just break a room up and still keep a backbone of dignity… but in a mega-ultra way. He couldn’t be beat. That says a lot when you look at his cast mates on SNL and others he has worked with.

Phil we love you. We can’t have a Definitive 1000 without you.

FFSweaty Irishman: From Frank Sinatra to Phil Donahue, Ronald Reagan to Bill Clinton, Phil Hartman impersonated every one under the sun at SNL. Phil was the funniest cast member the first day he arrived, and he was the funniest cast member the day he left. I am sure anyone who worked with him would say so and there were some heavy hitters on the show during his reign such as Mike Myers, Dana Carvey, Dennis Miller, Chris Farley, Adam Sandler, Chris Rock… just to name a few. It was pretty clear to me that Hartman was the “go to guy” at SNL. If they needed something to be funny…put Phil in the sketch. If they needed someone to impersonate someone…let Phil do it. Phil did Ronald Reagan and Bill Clinton and the only reason he didn’t do George Bush most likely is because he was too busy impersonating Barbara Bush! As funnier as his impersonations were, the most memorable Hartman moments for me came from his last sketch of the night, let Phil do what he wants stuff such as “Unfrozen Caveman Lawyer” or the “Anal Retentive Chef”. Phil had such a great way of delivering unfunny material in a funny way that he must have made the writers jobs so much easier during his time at SNL.

Outside of SNL, Phil lent his genius and voice to enhance such great shows as The Simpsons. Whether it is Lionel Hutz (AKA Miguel Sanchez) or Troy McClure and his romantic abnormality towards fish, any episode Phil showed up in is generally one of the funniest. You then of course have his great scene stealing cameos like in So I Married an Axe Murder as “Vicki” the Alcatraz Tour Guide. No one says, “pissing into the bitches ocular cavities” as funny as Phil Hartman! He lent his voice to numerous other cartoons, helped co-create Pee-Wee’s playhouse and co-wrote the film (vastly underrated).

Finally, to really help people understand just how funny and loved Phil Hartman is to me I will say this. I am not old or young. I remember where I was when the Challenger Shuttle blew up. I remember where I was when Joe Carter killed off the closest chance I had at experiencing a championship in Philadelphia, and I also remember where I was and what I was doing when I heard Phil Hartman was killed. It may not sound like much, but for such a moment to be burned into my memory should give some indication as to how saddened and even angry I was when I learned the news. I still laugh whenever I hear his voice, and I still feel the loss when I realize I will never hear anything new from him.

From the Immature Humor Files Of FFJewbacca

2008-05-27T22:28:00.004-04:00

I tell people sometimes that inside my head I stopped aging, and therefore maturing, around the age of 13.

Here's photographic proof of this phenomenon:

That's right. Mrs. Jewbacca's brother responding to my remark that someone should pinch that building.

Greatest Thing I've Seen in a Long Time

2008-05-27T22:20:00.002-04:00

I may be late to this party, but I just got back to civilization in the last 24 hours or so.

This is the finest hockey highlight I've seen in some time:

Bitter? Me?

[Tip of the hat to With Leather. I know it was at other places too. I like With Leather, so they get the Tip O' the Hat.]

Mystery Solved...

2008-05-27T21:49:00.004-04:00

I know that the tens of avid readers of The Friendly Friends have been clamoring for news about the whereabouts of our very own Shamalama. It's been more than a long time since we've heard from him and I know that many of you have suffered more than one sleepless night pondering this very question.

Well, wonder no more.

I spent the holiday weekend camping at an amusement park in the middle part of our fine Commonwealth and have pictorial evidence of where Mr. Shamalama has been spending his time:

That's right. He apparently is trying out material for his one man show, brilliantly titled "Shamalama" in front of sparse crowds at Knoebel's Groves outside of Elysburg, Pa. Talk about off-Broadway.

And just look at the company he's keeping:

No wonder we haven't heard from him. Quite the big-timer, huh?

The Definitive 1000

2008-05-20T11:14:00.014-04:00

We are going to be counting down the Definitive 1000 things. Why are they Definitive? Because The Friendly Friends have deemed them as such.

#971 - Breakfast Cereal

Through the first 33 years of my life, my appetite has gone through many stages. What I eat, how I eat and how much I eat has gone through waves of change. For instance, I never used to like Chinese food. Now I salivate every time I drive by a King Buffet. Some tastes have never changed, such as Sweet Potatoes. I look at that god-awful excuse for a vegetable as some sort of divine poop. Its shape, its size and its taste can only be described as celestial excrement. I can just imagine the big man upstairs looking down on us every third Thursday in November and begging us to stop. I imagine he is saying something along the lines of…”Look, it was day 6, I was tired, I had to go, and it was a long way back to my place. I never expected you guys to eat it! I even tried to bury it! You can add as much brown sugar and marshmallow to it as you want, it will still taste like shit!” Ok, so I don’t like sweet potatoes. There are also foods that as a young lad, I did enjoy, such as tapioca pudding. Nowadays, I would sweep the leg of any man who dared offer me any of that putrid gobbledy goop!
One thing that has never changed, and never will change is my love of Breakfast Cereal. As a child, some of my happiest most relaxing memories are of sitting at the bright and sunny table in the early Saturday morning hours, eating a heaping bowl of my favorite breakfast cereal of the day, and getting lost in the fine literature on the back of the box.

I am convinced that if it where not for cereal boxes I would be illiterate today. Whether it be reading about the fine prize included inside the box, which I would have already dug out before the first bowl was poured, or reading about the tie-in between cereal and upcoming movie. It was always just enough to get me through one bowl of cereal.
Back in the day, as is the case currently, you had various cartoon characters that represented their respective cereals. Some did it well, some not so well. Of course, changes have been made over the years to appease the PC health conscious world. Sugar Corn Pops became Corn Pops. Sugar Smacks became Honey Smacks, and for some reason, the Trix Rabbit thought he would fool us into changing from the traditional ball shaped cereal, to “more healthy looking” fruit shaped cereal. This change alone forced me away from Trix, as I grew tired of all the blood transfusions required after cutting the roof of my mouth with jagged fruit shaped Trix. Speaking of Trix, did anyone else think those kids were pretty cruel and selfish? Give the poor rabbit a bowl of Trix already!
You had other characters that brought the cereal to life, such as Sonny the Cuckoo bird. He apparently had some sort of psychotic episode whenever he was in the vicinity of Cocoa Puffs. I think the medical term is Chocophilia. Another character in the bird category was Toucan Sam. I always thought Sam was a bit pretentious for a tropical bird representing a fruity cereal shaped like zeros. That is not to say I did not enjoy Fruit Loops. I did, and do! My son had some this weekend!
You also had some second tier characters such as the Honey Bear who represented Golden Crisp and the Dig ‘Em Frog, representing Honey Smacks. To this day I am still trying to discern the difference between these two cereals.

So one uses a wooden spoon to scoop the honey and the other uses that fancyhoney scooping thingy? Is that the difference?

They look the same, taste the same and if the box is kept in an environment with any humidity at all it will form a solid cereal brick in a matter of days.
As a child, my mother would make feeble attempts to make us eat the healthy cereals. She would come back with 3 boxes of cereal. Cocoa Puffs, Kix, and Raisin Bran. I believe she still has those boxes of Kix and Raisin Bran. The great thing about cereal is that there are so many choices! From the sugary Lucky Charms to the bland Puffed Rice, from the sweet Golden Grahams to the unnaturally expensive Cracklin Oat Bran…you always have options. That is not even talking about the limited edition cereals or the promotional cereals that stop making sense after a few months. See Mr. T cereal, C3PO’s, and Smurf Berry Crunch.

The Mr. T cereal was appropriatley shaped, but why were C3PO's shaped like 8's?

As a child was I bitter that I never saw a Philadelphia athlete on a box of Wheaties? You bet! Was I annoyed when I kept getting the same Sticky Fingers toy in my box of Alpha-bits? Oh yeah!

Did any of those issues turn me away from my sugar and grain filled breakfast buddy? Hell no! I learned alot from Cereal Spock!

This creal is illogicaly delicious

The beauty of cereal is that it can be eaten any time of day. It can be eaten in a little bowl, as 5-year-old Sweaty Irishman can attest. It can be eaten in a mixing bowl, as 15 year old Sweaty Irishman can attest, and it can be eaten write out of the box, if you were lucky enough to get your hands on a variety pack…which I rarely was.
Every once in a while a cereal betrays me. During my youth, as a boy named Mike, I had to hear constant echoes of the Life cereal slogan…”Hey! Mikey likes it!.”

It was lucky for them I DID like it!

Some of the changes have not been to my liking, as the aforementioned Trix shapes will suggest. Lucky Charms has gotten a little too complicated for my tastes regarding the marshmallows as well. I miss the green clovers, orange stars, yellow moons and pink hearts. Now you have the rainbow colored rainbow, purple horseshow, shooting stars, yellow pots of gold, and I think I saw a marshmallow CHUD in there at one point. They almost need to put a disclaimer on the box for people with epilepsy.
All that being said, I will never stop enjoying a nice bowl of cereal in the morning. I still read the box, as for the toys…I was using my light up Indian Jones spoon this morning to scoop my Captain Crunch.

You had me at crunchy.

For all these reasons, fine literature, fun toys, great memories and a tasty meal…cereal takes its place on The Friendly Friends Definitive 1000.

Top 5 Things Philly Can Safely Root For

2008-05-20T07:58:00.011-04:00

Alright, 6 things to root for...

After the second shut out this year for the Fightin’s just after the Penguins are confirmed for a Cup Dance, here’s a Top 5 Things Philadelphia Can Safely Root For:

1. More Pigeons
2. Greasy Brown Rivers
3. Paper bags of soft Pretzels smoked in car exhaust for delicious roadside retail
4. Angelo Cataldi’s phlem shaking loose by exasperated laments
5. Every other state in the union failing miserably at reverse engineering the complexity called the cheese steak

I Was Right

2008-05-19T20:29:00.014-04:00

I'm filled with Spaghetti-O's of course... Spaghetti-O's with franks.

I love being right. July 2007 I predicted that Iron Man would rock. I was right.

This past Saturday the wife and I headed out for a rare kidless Saturday night. We got our loan for the tickets cosigned and we took our seats in steerage, er, stadium seating.

Coming from Mrs. FFMatt, who cares little for superheroes or Robert Downey Jr.: Iron Man was impressive, mostly because it didn’t feel much like a superhero movie. There was adventure. There was enough plot. Effects were great. People laughed and seemed to care for the characters.

My wife asked questions about back story and about the thing that happened after the credits. That impressed me most since she wasn’t just trying to get into my pants after 8 years of marriage, she actually wanted to know more. About a superhero movie.

Four thumbs up from my matrimonial franchise. Go see Iron Man.

Et Tu NHL???

2008-05-19T20:20:00.001-04:00

From the always awesome Fark.com comes this knife twist:

Seriously??

[Original here. Enjoy!]

I Still Hate The Penguins, But This Is Kinda Cool...

2008-05-19T11:23:00.003-04:00

I didn't stick around until the bitter end yesterday. I was saved by a Reno 911 marathon and a well-timed fire call so I didn't get to see the handshakes or the post-game ~~celebration~~ kick in the gut.

But doing my post-mortem of the season this morning turned this up, from TSN.ca:

PITTSBURGH - There were smiles and pats on the back. But no jumping up and down at the buzzer and certainly no wild celebration in the dressing room.

The Pittsburgh Penguins continue to surprise with their maturity and poise, calmly digesting their latest chapter in what is proving to be a magical season, a 6-0 win Sunday over the Philadelphia Flyers that clinched a Stanley Cup final berth.

''We still have a long way to go,'' said Penguins winger Ryan Malone. ''So there's nothing to celebrate, that's for sure.''

Eastern Conference champion t-shirts and caps awaited the players in the dressing room. The players ignored them.

''We're not going to wear these shirts or these hats,'' said forward Pascal Dupuis. ''We want the big prize.''

Gotta give them some credit for that. It's nice to see a team not celebrate every single step of the journey to the Finals. I always wonder why baseball teams that clinch the Wild Card ("YAY!! We're the 4th best team in our league and would not have made the postseason at all if it wasn't for Bud Selig's 1990's money grabbing expansion!!!) soak each other with champagne.

Hope they don't regret it when Detroit destroys them in the Final...

[Original story on TSN.ca here. That's Canadia's version of ESPN, which almost singlehandedly kept me and the Mighty Malagan in our Oshawa hotel room. We'd never seen a Sportscenterre so packed with hockey highlights. I sobbed at its beauty...]

Great Season, but...

2008-05-18T18:49:00.005-04:00

First off, thank you to the Orange and Black for giving us quite a season and our first visit to the Stanley Cup Playoffs since the 2005-2006 season. Rising up from the ashes of last season's debacle to make it to the Eastern Conference finals was above and beyond what anyone should have expected. So to the Flyers, thank you.

BUT...4-1??? Seriously??? A 6-0 blowout after what you guys did on Thursday night??

You came out with such intensity and determination on Thursday! Today you came out with whatever the exact 180 degree opposite of intensity and determination is. From the opening face-off on you looked lost and totally confused as to how to play the sport of hockey. How could a team that played with such fire on Thursday night (not to mention in the first two series) look so lost today??

Sigh. I think I would have rather the Flyers lost on Thursday night and not get eliminated by a 6-0 blowout.

But seriously, thank you for an always entertaining, though not always in a good way, season and 2/3 of a great post-season run.

Top 5 Come On Lines for Librarians

2008-05-16T09:56:00.011-04:00

She blinded me with library science

You make me feel like classification 582 on the Dewey Sexual System.
"Semantic Tool" is my OCLC screen name.
Your enormous canvas tote really brings out your eyes.
I brought you this boquet made of Post-Its. No, they weren't from your budget.
Tonight your cats can watch us.

Why yes, I want to look up something...

No Sweep Til [crunchy guitar chords].....Pittsburgh!

2008-05-16T08:00:00.005-04:00

Thanks to the Flyers for not rolling over and dying last night at home.

Now maybe to steal one in the 'Burgh and bring one game back to South Philly?

If they play the way they played the first two periods and the last couple of minutes of the third last night, on Sunday it's possible.

Am I calling the next in a series of 33 year miracles? You know the one about how the Leafs came back from a 3-0 deficit to win the Cup over the Red Wings in 1942, and then the Islanders came back from a 3-0 deficit to beat these same Pens in 1975 all leading to the fact that it is 33 years after the last one so someone is due?

Not yet.

But I will say this, they aren't getting swept.

I Hate Being Right

2008-05-13T21:58:00.004-04:00

One of the most lackadaisical, bumbling displays of hockey I have ever witnessed.

Why do the Flyers (I'm looking at you Downie) have such an aversion to playing the "North-South" (a term I hate) game? Why did they insist all night on passing side to side instead of dumping it down low? Why do they look like an entirely different team than the one that won the first two rounds? Where the hell did Joe Beninati and Darren Eliot come from and can we send them back?

So either they roll over in Game Four or they raise our hopes by winning one on home ice, but it's over.

At least The Office is on. Ha! The one where Michael grills his foot and Dwight gets a concussion!!

Concussions aren't funny to Flyers fans....

I had hoped that a GIS for "Flyers Girls" would cheer me up. It didn't. But here you go.

A Thought At 9:14 p.m. As I Watch The Flyers' Season Slowly Die...

2008-05-13T21:12:00.004-04:00

If they don't keep the puck in the Pittsburgh end for more than 10 seconds at a time, they are finished.

And so is the season.

Sweaty Irishman Thoughts

2008-05-09T11:29:00.011-04:00

Phutile to be a Philadelphia Phan?

As you all know by now, The Friendly Friends are based out of the Delaware Valley. Making most of us loyal Philadelphia Sports Fans. We each have our favorites of course. I am an Eagles/Phillies guy with a strong interest in the Flyers and a very minimal interest in the Sixers. I think it would be safe to categorize Jewbacca as a Flyers Fan First & Foremost (That was a lot of non-obscene F words), then Eagles/Phillies and maybe even less then minimal interest in the Sixers. FFMatt, I would say is an equal opportunity fan for the Flyers/Eagles with the Phillies bringing up the rear, and again…Sixers are lame. If we get into Pissah and his new favorite Boston Teams or Shamalama and his bizarre mix of Chicago and D.C. sports teams we could be here all day.
Another interesting, well-known and tragic fact is, The Friendly Friends have grown up not knowing what it feels like to win a championship. Yes, we were all alive when the Phillies won it in 80. None of us were old enough to appreciate or care at the time. The Eagles have never won a Super Bowl. The last time the Flyers won the Stanley Cup it was socially acceptable that FFMatt and I were taking baths together and Jewbacca was still cultivating his Brillo hair and eating kosher baby food while watching episodes of Captain Noah and Al Albert’s Showcase.

Anyone else ever wonder about him and Larry Ferrari?

The Sixers were actually the last Philadelphia team to win a championship in 1983 and as stated earlier…who cares. We hadn’t even hit puberty yet anyway!
That finally brings me to the point of this post. We have all been waiting 25 years, basically our entire sports conscious lives to experience a championship…and we are still waiting. The Friendly Friends lives have been filled with occasional excruciatingly close near misses in this regard, but more often than not it was another regular season, followed by quick exit from the playoffs or no playoffs at all. We have had obstacles of all kinds in each sport. Some people call it the curse of William Penn, or if you are Mike Turico, the curse of Ben Franklin.

Who knew a Quaker would be so spiteful!

Ever since Philadelphia erected buildings taller than the brim of Billy Penn’s cap on top of City Hall in 1984 this city has gone winless. Poppycock I say! I don’t believe in that rubbish. I do believe we have had some pretty bad owners, coaches and players in the past 25 years though! But I also think we have had our share of bad luck and bizarre experiences.
We have learned so many things as Philadelphia sports fans. In 1993, the Phillies, and Jewbacca’s little brother, taught us that Joe Carter was one of the best power hitters of our time.

I will get yelled at for even putting this image on here.

In 1987 the Flyers taught us that the only thing that could stop them from winning the Stanley Cup is if they had to face perhaps the greatest professional sports team ever assembled.

I smashed my potato clock I was so upset.

Thank you Edmonton Oilers including, but not limited to…Wayne Gretzky, Mark Messier, Paul Coffey, Jari Kurri, Grant Fuhr, and Essa Tikkanen. The Flyers also taught us in 1997 that even the best team in Hockey can be swept in the Finals. In 2000 they were nice enough to teach us that a team up 3-1 in the Eastern Conference Finals can still lose, despite getting back their best player after gaining that 3-1 lead. We also learned a lot about concussions that year. The Philadelphia Eagles taught us in the late 1980’s and early 1990’s that the only way a team that’s defense that included Reggie White, Jerome Brown, Seth Joyner, Eric Allen and Wes Hopkins would not win a Super Bowl is if you had a coaching staff who put as much work into offensive game plans as I put into auto repair. They also taught us in 2004 that we would win our first Super Bowl…as long as our Quarterback didn’t vomit in the huddle and as long as our Coach included a 2-minute drill in the game plan.
We have had many other bizarre occurrences that have impeded our road to a championship in our lifetime. Horrible Aprils for the Phillies, an alien like Fog rolling in at Soldiers Field in Chicago,

This was like Scooby Doo fog.

and perhaps most of all, and the inspiration for this entry…injuries. I know players don’t use them as excuses (much) and I try not to as well, but I am getting fed up. Anyone in Philly not familiar with Torn rotator cuffs, Tommy John surgeries, Lisfranc injuries, sports hernias, concussions (Lindros), concussions (Primeau), concussions (Gagne)…and now…Blood Clot? A friggin blood clot? What? I am driving home from my last final of the semester last night…thinking about the upcoming summer, and also thinking about the excitement brewing in town. Our Flyers have made a remarkable run in the playoffs and are 4 wins away from another appearance in the Stanley Cup Finals! It has been unexpected, and that may be why it is all that more enjoyable. All that stands in our way is a hated Pittsburgh Penguin team loaded with fast young talent with names like Crosby, Hossa and Malkin. Not to worry though…the Flyers secret weapon…the man who has managed to keep in check the likes of Ovechkin and Koivu will be up to the task. Kimmo Timonen, the best Flyers defensemen in years and an All-Star has had as much to do with our success in the playoffs as anyone except maybe Martin Biron. He will make the difference! The only we can’t win this series is if he come down with some strange injury…like a blood clot!

Is this the new "water on the knee"?

The series starts tonight, without Timonen. I will root hard and I still think they have a chance, but once again The Friendly Friends have to get out their Medical Dictionaries and learn the name that may be given for the 26th year without a championship. Blood Clot. The official new mascot of Philadelphia…Buddy the Blood Clot.

My only weakness is Hemophilia

Finally, Someone With Enough Sense to Stand Up to the NRA...

2008-05-05T20:59:00.005-04:00

Sgt. Steven Liczbinski

As some of you are aware, the unthinkable happened here in Philly over the weekend.

Three ~~men~~ ~~thugs~~ animals robbed a bank branch in a supermarket and killed a Philly Police Officer who responded to the call.

One of these animals was killed by police, one arrested and one is on the loose.

What did these animals use to kill Sgt. Liczbinski?

The SKS carbine - considered simple and rugged - weighs about 8.5 pounds and can be bought legally for as little as $179. Instructions for cleaning and routine maintenance can be found on YouTube.

And what kind of ammo?

The gun that killed officer Liczbinski was outfitted with a 30 cartridge magazine and fired a 7.62x39mm bullet...

What does that mean to those of us sane people not obsessed with guns?

The SKS dates to the mid-40s and was originally designed for the Soviet infantry. The Red Army replaced the SKS with the AK-47. The Chinese military bought the SKS manufacturing equipment and produced more than 8 million of them.

Here is the million dollar question: For what possible purpose would three worthless animals have such a firearm?

Pretty much for the reason it was used: To penetrate a police car and an officer's bulletproof vest. There is no other reason for anyone to own this gun. You hunt with it, and you will be picking pieces of the critter you killed (congratulations little man!) out of the surrounding trees.

And this is exactly why Mayor Nutter signed a bill into law that would outlaw the sale and possession of assault rifles in the City of Philadelphia. There is no earthly reason to have a weapon of this type, outside of the military uses for which it was designed, unless you work overnight security in Jurassic Park or have particularly angry killer whales on your paper route.

And what did Mayor Nutter get for his troubles?

The NRA immediately sued the city on the grounds that the city does not have the authority to enact local gun control. They obtained a temporary restraining order to keep the city from enforcing the new laws.

That's right. The NRA sued the City of Philadelphia to block the enforcement of this and four other laws the Mayor sought to have put on the books...in a city that saw 392 murders in 2007.

So what did the Mayor have for the NRA today?

"I think it's insane," Nutter said. "The fact that we put forward a piece of legislation to prevent the sale and use and transfer of assault weapons and have a Philadelphia police officer assaulted on the streets with one, I think makes it pretty clear to anyone who is confused about this issue that there's no reason for any citizen, any person other than in law enforcement or in the military to have such a weapon."

He added: "There's no legitimate argument by the NRA, they need to get in the real world where the rest of us live and come to grips with these kinds of issues. They owe an apology to the family for their staunch opposition over many, many years blocking legislative support for these kinds of matters.

Amen. Couldn't have said it better myself with a speechwriter and two editors.

The NRA's response? Who cares. This is 1/3 my site and I don't have to give equal time to anyone, least of all those lunatics in the NRA.

Am I naive enough to think that an assault weapon ban would have stopped this? No, I am not. There is a reason these animals were criminals...I doubt they would have let a little ban on assault weapons stop them from getting one.

Am I too naive to see that this may be the Mayor cashing in on a family's grief to prove a point in a political-legal battle he may very well lose? No, I see that as well.

But the point is someone in a position of power in this great Commonwealth of Pennsyltucky is standing up to the louts of the NRA. Will it go anywhere? Probably not. Will it stop the lobbying in Harrisburg to "protect" our "Second Amendment" right to bear arms ? Probably not. Will it even help to get the state's appellate courts to reverse themselves and allow Philly to police itself when it comes to guns? Not a chance.

Does it make me feel a little better about this f'd up world to hear an elected official actually call the NRA out? You bet it does.

And when something this terrible happens, you need to look at the little things that make you feel one iota better than you did a minute ago. So thank you Mayor Nutter for giving us at least that tiny bit of hope -- hope that maybe not all is lost when it comes to the NRA and its insane agenda.

Did I mention that Sgt. Liczbinski left behind a wife and three children? Want to help? Here's how:

Donations can be sent to: Stephen Liczbinski Family Memorial Trust Fund, Police & Fire Federal Credit Union, 901 Arch St., Philadelphia, PA 19107.

Donations can also be taken to the Fourth District, 1301 S. 11th St.; the 24th District, 3901 Whitaker Ave.; or the branches of the Police and Fire Credit Union at 901 Arch St., 7604 City Ave., 8500 Henry Ave., 3338 S. Broad St., Byberry and Bustleton Avenue (Leo Mall), 7500 Castor Ave., or 3330 Grant Ave.

[Picture from Philly.com as well as the quotes above]

[UPDATE: They caught the missing animal last night well before the self-imposed deadline of Sgt. Liczbinski's funeral!! May he rot in hell.]