Nick's nook

Wacko Jacko rises for one more 'Thriller'

2009-10-27T21:10:00.009-04:00

(GLENDALE, Calif.) -- In what was easily the most bizarre event in the 50-year history of Michael Jackson, the King of Pop's cold, stiff corpse sprang to life Tuesday night, leading a troupe of zombies through a stirring, 14-minute rendition of "Thriller."

Sometime near midnight, the classic pop single began to play from a 1987 boom box that fans have set to continuously loop the star's hits near his grave. Wacko Jacko's gold-plated coffin flew open, and he began to dazzle the small crowd of grave-shift graveyard workers and fiercely devoted fans who have remained on constant vigil for two months.

The mega star and a dozen or so backup zombie dancers began with a stiff march, heads rhythmically twitching, and mixed in irresistible moves like the "zombie hip slide" and the popular left-right "air claws."

Fans who had been waiting for such a miracle were slightly weirded out, but they were not disappointed.

"Michael's hair had fallen out in clumps and his skin was pastier than ever, but honestly he looked better than at any point after the HIStory album," said Angela Bordick. "All things considered, it was a remarkable performance."

Leading up to the show, witnesses reported a strange feeling as if something was lurking in the dark. The foulest stench filled the air, they said. The funk of 40,000 years and grizzly ghouls emerged from shadowy tombs.

"Under the moonlight, I saw a sight that almost stopped my heart," said Craig Supra, who spotted Jacko hobbling toward him. "I tried to scream, but terror took the sound before I could make it."

Supra froze as horror looked him right between the eyes.

"I was paralyzed," Supra said.

Other onlookers were similarly terrified until the song reached the familiar chorus that Americans living and dead know by heart.

"'Cause this is thriller, thriller night!"

"Until that hook kicked in, I probably looked as terrified as Michael's date in the video," onlooker Jimmy Mulholand said with a nervous laugh. "After that, I just gave in to the music. It was the most incredible thing I've ever seen, partly for the impeccable choreography but mostly because the performers were, uhh, dead."

Jackson's voice and his moves were easily as smooth as the day he passed. And though he had not lit up an earthly stage in four months, Jackson put on the show of an afterlifetime. The smooth-moving specter was dressed in the red pants and tattered red jacket he donned in the 1983 video.

During a particularly forceful crotch grab, a portion of Jackson's rotting nose fell off. But fans hardly noticed. JaKouri Jones said the undead King of Pop had not lost a step despite entering eternal sleep on June 25.

"It's hard to tell whether he looked better in life or after death," Jones said. "I knew Michael would always be great, but I was surprised the other stiffs were able to move like that."

Following a spectacular finale, during which pyrotechnics lit up the 500-acre cemetery and Jackson moonwalked the length of a 40-foot mausoleum, he signed autographs for fans. He then transformed back into a brainless ghoul and began feasting on their flesh. Authorities later subdued Jackson by setting his hair on fire.

Total crap

2009-07-21T22:15:00.010-04:00

In the early days of my career with county government one of my crowning accomplishments has been launching an organizational newsletter for 1,700 employees. From the onset, we’ve asked employees to submit their upcoming events, success stories and little things like that. I did not expect to elicit so much terrible content from our workforce. Below is a recent article from a woman who has no clue how the language works. I made the proper edits for our newsletter, but below is her unedited text with the remarks -- in blue -- I would like to have made.

The Power Speakers of MCG of Toastmaster received an email from the District 47 Governor who received a call from International President, (name withheld to protect the innocent) to congratulate the District 47 for being a President’s Distinguished District, #4 in the World!

Not terrible at this point, but already you have managed to turn off any readers with details of HOW the announcement was made and -- incredibly -- misidentified the international organization of which you’re so proud to be a member. It’s actually Toastmasters International.

There are 81 districts in the world. Only the top six are considered in the President’s Distinguished circle. In the District #47, there are 8 Division (A-I) with 42 Areas (10 – 86). ZZZzzzzz … The Power Speakers of MCG is under Area 61. Fascinating! Area 61 has 5 Clubs and the other four are Tropicana Toastmaster, Bradenton Toastmaster, Manatee WCR Club, and Master Communication of Crystal Palace. Congratulation District #47! ToastMASTERS. And, there is no such thing as one congratulation. If writing doesn’t pan out for you, maybe you can get back your old job at the Cracker Barrel.

Toastmaster International currently has members in 106 countries. Toastmaster was born on October 1924 at Santa Ana, California. Its parents must have been so proud. The old picture you see on the right. Yeah?! It’s not pictured.

This was in 1962; Dedication of new World Headquarters building in Santa Ana, Ca. This is not even a sentence. Toastmaster has been around for a long time. Get to know the history go to Toastmasters.org. Again, not a sentence.

Our club, Power Speakers of MCG has 20 members. The club should revoke your membership. The membership is affordable. Affordable for minimum wage earners? The cost is $ 20 for new member fee and $ 27 dues every six months. Dues may vary based on variety of factors. You missed an article. Forget it. The club officer will send you application and fees to Toastmasters’ World Headquarters. Doesn’t make sense. Your New Member Kit should arrive in the mail in about 10 days.

We are proud to announce that we have started a newsletter that will be published every month. Please, please don’t ask me to edit that. This newsletter will tell you what is happening in the club. You can also visit us. You are allowed to come several times to decide if you want to join. I don’t. There is no pressure. No pressure to use proper English?

Members join the club for an array of reasons: It could be to learn to be a better listener, to think fast when answering questions or to speak better, especially in public. They let you speak in public?

You will be amazed how you can accomplish the task. Before you know it, you will have done 10 speeches and realized it isn’t that bad. When you do completed 10 speeches you will receive an award. Terrible. Trust me, you will be proud! I’m proud that you finally wrote a sentence that doesn’t make you sound like an illegal immigrant.

Your employer can get a notice by mail of what you have accomplished. How about I mail your employer a notice that you can’t write for shit instead? You can also be on any of the Officer roles. You can’t. The Officer Roles we have are Club President, VP Education, VP Membership, VP Public Relations, VP Marketing Chairman, Secretary, Treasurer, or Sergeants at Arms. We vote every six month for new Officers. Another great selling point. Please, sign me up as soon as the rest of the club fires you. This is where you can learn how to present the meeting as an Officer. It’s a good learning experience. If you are interested or got questions, I got question: does your children right as good as you? please email to I’m withholding your e-mail address so others don’t send you death threats. She will be happy to answer any questions you may have. I have another question: This was our cat writing all along, wasn’t it?

Albuquerque Isotopes place Manny on waivers after slow start at the plate

2009-06-24T18:21:00.000-04:00

(Albuquerque, N.M.) -- Albuquerque skipper Tim Wallach doesn’t mind Manny being Manny. Just so long as he’s not wearing an Isotope uniform.

After an 0-for-4 night at the plate – his first time facing live pitching in nearly two months – Manny was handed his walking papers. Wallach placed the L.A. Dodgers slugger on waivers after only one rehab assignment with the team.

Ramirez, serving a 50 game suspension for violating MLB’s substance abuse policy, was expected to re-acclimate his batting eye for several games with the Isotopes before rejoining the Dodgers July 3.

But Wallach said his squad would not be used as a training ground.

“I’ve got too many guys bustin’ their butts to make it to The Big Show,” said Wallach, who gained moderate fame as a serviceable third baseman with the Montreal Expos in the 80s. “Isotope Baseball is a winning tradition, so I’m not giving some unpredictable superstar a few extra Spring Training at-bats just because he’s hard not to like.”

Upon hearing Wallach’s move, Dodger President Frank McCourt had to receive the Heimlich Maneuver after choking on a Dodger Dog.

Wallach informed Ramirez he would no longer be on the team after the temperamental All-Star emerged from his post-game shower wearing an batting helmet covered in pine tar. Manny reportedly shrugged off the decision and urinated on Wallach’s office chair. He was later seen riding through the streets of Albuquerque in a Cutlass Supreme with Isotope mascot Orbit, a large fuzzy electron.

“We’re gonna grab some chicken tenders and catch the 9:40 ‘Hangover,’” Ramirez shouted to a group of young females. “Wanna come?”

It is the latest in a series of no-nonsense roster decisions Wallach has made to improve the Isotopes, shooting for their first Pacific Coast League playoff berth in a decade.

Two weeks ago Wallach dismissed Joseph “GoGo JoJo” Johnson for literally stealing second base. A few days later, Lenny “Slop Jar” Banks was demoted to AA Chattanooga after an embarrassing run-in with a hot dog concessionaire.

ARMAGEDDON!

2009-01-27T21:29:00.001-05:00

Man, it's been awhile

2009-01-27T21:12:00.002-05:00

since I posted anything. Something good is brewing upstairs but it might be a bit longer before I manually vomit my thoughts on this page. Stay tuned.

Pre-wedding (families meet, rehearsal, etc.)

2008-11-22T16:24:00.001-05:00

Beeker leads a tour of our new home

2008-11-08T18:21:00.000-05:00

Cunningham native, coaching novice tapped to lead UT

2008-11-03T23:06:00.003-05:00

New field marshal Ryan Groves vows Vols ‘won’t suck so bad’ next year

KNOXVILLE – On a hallowed hill in Tennessee, the Volunteer Football program Monday night announced a surprise that echoed clear across the Smokies: coaching unknown Ryan Groves is taking the helm.

The floundering football Vols were expected to choose from a list of elite coaches to replace the rotund and resigning Phillip Fulmer.

But marquee names quickly became afterthoughts when UT Athletic Director Mike Hamilton went with an incredibly unconventional choice, hiring instead the state’s most proficient football video game player.

Groves recently emerged as champion of the Bluff City Xbox 360 NCAA Football ’09 Challenge. Using an unmatched display of strategic wit and dizzying quickness of thumb, Groves bested 441 others to win the tournament and its $250 prize. Little did he know the championship was also a one-way ticket to Rocky Top.

Hamilton was impressed and moved to recruit his surprise new coach.

“Why the hell not,” Hamilton said. “When you’re competing against the likes of Nick Saban, Urban Meyer and Mark Richt, I’m not sure even Lane Kiffen makes a hill of beans worth of difference. I want to kick off this rebuilding era with some young blood.”

A native of rural Cunningham, Tenn., Groves, 31, honed his video gaming skills during long hours of practice against college roommates during the Vols’ glory years of the 1990s and, more recently, against his own children ages 4 and 1.

Groves’ first measures of business as coach: Underperforming athletes will be strongly encouraged to heroically quit the team and to join the Armed Forces. A coach-and-players-only meeting will be held in December to discuss the players’ current and future life insurance policies.

“In life and on the gridiron, you never can be too insured,” Coach Groves stressed.

He wasted little time naming two Clarksville attorneys and coaching obscurities to the staff: Travis Meeks becomes offensive coordinator and B. Nathan Hunt is defensive coordinator.

Groves plans to begin recruiting next year’s team not along pipeline states but from within the university. He pointed out there are “way too many” 6-foot-11-inch, 320-pounders pursuing Biology majors instead of running sprints on the practice field.

“I can promise you we won’t suck so bad this time next year,” Groves said. “I’m committed to restoring the competitive-ism (sic) and dignity-ness (sic) of this football team.”

Volunteer football players were immediately impressed with Groves’ yelling ability and the distance which Hunt can angrily toss his hat.

Groves’ friends said the newly minted coach is best known for a few embarassing college blunders and for his devastating “people’s elbow” which he often delivered in drunken fits of rage. Groves once administered the move on little brother Patty “Doo-Doo” Groves, crushing the younger man’s tibia.

Groves’ wife, Christine instantly becomes the First Lady of Tennessee Football while their two young boys, Gracen and Grant, become the program’s top two blue chip prospects despite the fact neither can bench over 20 pounds and neither run the 40 meter dash in less than 25 seconds.

“That don’t (sic) matter,” Groves said. “We’re going to focus on the fundamentalists (sic).”

Christine, Groves’ unassuming wife only wanted to know, “When can we meet Coach (Bruce) Pearl?”

Hunt’s priority, in addition to leading the offense, will be to improve UT’s standing as the country’s 103rd best party school. He also aims to take under his wing players facing legal problems and those who seek guidance on talking pointlessly to hear themselves heard.

Meeks, reportedly on an “arm-and-leg” bender with his new wife in Aruba, could not be reached for comment.

Upon hearing the news Volunteer superfans Nathan Ledbetter, Matt Stokes, Chris Dennis, Evan Radish and Cecil Morgan shrugged and ripped into a 12-pack of Natural Light to celebrate.

Obama visits Sarasota

2008-11-01T12:11:00.003-04:00

OK, this was seriously one of the coolest moments of my career. After Obama spoke to a huge crowd at Ed Smith Stadium, a small group of press were invited to an "undisclosed event at an undisclosed location" at about 1:15 p.m.

After a lengthy wait aboard a charter bus, co-workers Natalie Alund and Tiffany Tompkins-Condie and I were off ... to a pumpkin patch in downtown Sarasota. The bus became the caboose of a long police escort through downtown. We reached a stopping point, the bus dropped us off and continued to the airport leaving most of us without a ride back.

We rushed out of the bus and over to a makeshift pumpkin patch where we stood, kinda waiting for a second. Then someone said, "Oh, there he is." Obama was nearby talking to a man about the pumpkins he was selling for a local church.

The two chatted for a few minutes and Obama picked out a few pumpkins, presumably for his two girls at home (the following day he was back in Chicago to spend some Halloween time with his family). You can read more about the event here. The media were taking notes and snapping photos, but we didn't have a chance to ask questions.

At one point an onlooker across the street shouted, "I voted for you!" He waved off Secret Service and invited the woman and several others over to shake hands.

Maybe the thing I'll remember most about my brush with our next president is how quiet it was. Here was a man we're used to seeing give rousing speeches before thousands of cheering people. But here, in downtown Sarasota, the street was closed to traffic and many of us who were there were a touch awestruck. You could hear Obama chitchat with the pumpkin dude. The moment was so ... still.

I stood taking notes and snapping photos with a silly grin on my face. Soon Obama was gone and Natalie and I scrambled to find some wireless Web to e-mail the news to the office while Tiffany went to get her car to bring us back.

I would loved to have asked a few questions, but that will have to wait for another time. Maybe I'll find him again at a farmer's market.

My endorsement for Sen. Barack Obama

2008-10-26T21:23:00.007-04:00

Eight years ago, would you have voted for George W. Bush if you had known things would end up so terribly? Would you have voted for him if you’d known he would ring in the 21st century with a $10 trillion debt that will be passed along to your children and grandchildren?

If you had known that Iraq had no weapons of mass destruction would you have sided with Bush on the war there? Even if you’d known that 4,100-plus American soldiers would die there to eliminate a dictator who was never a threat to U.S. lives? Do you continue to support the $600 billion war despite its 140,000 civilian deaths and millions of displaced families?

Debt and destruction only begin to describe what has been a disastrous administration. Private-sector job creation has been a sixth of what it was under Bill Clinton. Five million people have fallen into poverty. The number of Americans without health insurance has grown by 7 million, while average premiums have nearly doubled.

Bush’s economic policies have shift the relative tax burden from the rich to the rest. For the top 1 percent of us, the Bush tax cuts are worth, on average, about $1,000 a week; for the bottom fifth, about $1.50.

Sen. John McCain is not President Bush.

He’s worked hard over the past three months to convince you of that and to divorce himself from his embarassing ties to the president. But has he done enough to convince you he would be an appreciable change despite his voting record? How maverick could he be to have agreed with Bush a jaw-dropping 92 percent of the time?

In truth, McCain has become a demagogue of epic proportions. He abandoned his own immigration reform package because it wasn’t politically convenient. In February he voted against a ban on the torture techniques he’d denounced in the past.

His campaign has been characterized by meanness and lies, so much so that it seems obvious that he is willing to replicate some of the same underhanded methods that the Karl Rove machine deployed in 2000 to defeat McCain in South Carolina.

But even if McCain were a true “agent of change,” he’s run an unkind, laughable campaign beginning with the unsettling pick for vice president, Sarah Palin.

The Alaska governor and sprightly simpleton has been a terrible mistake from Troopergate and a $150,000 wardrobe to her disdain for the media and her charge that “pro-America” parts of the country vote red. How could America be expected to support a ticket where one of the candidates can’t even give you a good job description of the office she’s running for? (The vice president “controls the Senate???” What version of the Constitution was she reading?)

Palin has done much more to resurrect Lorne Michaels’ career than to boost McCain’s chances. She has no business being second in line to lead the country, especially considering her running mate is a 72-year-old man whose lifespan, it’s reasonable to expect, will be shaved by his time in a Vietnam torture cell.

Palin aside, McCain’s campaign has been a series of inane clichés: “Drill, baby, drill,” Joe the plumber, Robocalls. Come on. This nation — I hope — is smarter than that. We’re desperate for new ideas and a strong leader who will restore America’s confidence with the rest of the world.

On almost every issue, McCain and Barack Obama say they’ll bring reform, but only Obama has provided a convincing and developed vision. Obama is committed to reform that will restore economic stability while reducing taxes for the vast majority of the population.

Obama has called for greater regulation of the financial system and the creation of a National Infrastructure Reinvestment Bank, which would help patch roads, restore bridges and build mass-transit systems. His plan to transform the nation’s energy policy will mean 5 million green jobs over the next 10 years.

Say what you will about Obama’s relative inexperience. He was a state legislator from 1997 to 2004 and has been a U.S. senator since 2005. There are others who had less than Obama’s 11 years experience in elected office: Andrew Jackson, Teddy Roosevelt, Franklin Roosevelt, George Washington and Abraham Lincoln. They all turned out pretty well.

His steady demeanor, careful analysis of the issues and eloquence are clear improvements over George Bush, who has governed not with intelligence and reason, but from the gut over the past decade. It’s time for the political pendulum to swing more toward careful reason, away from audacious authority for a few years.

Millions will vote for McCain on the notion he fits more with their moral code. But a closer look might change some minds.

In 1999 McCain said he opposed overturning Roe v. Wade. By 2006, he said its demise “wouldn’t bother me any.” This year he no longer supports adding rape and incest as exceptions to his party’s platform opposing abortion.

If abortion is the key point you’re voting on, then John McCain is your guy. That is, until he changes his mind when his position becomes inconvenient.

Catholics should remember that the church’s teaching gives consideration to a host of other important topics, like just conduct in war, a fair economy and working wages, and stewardship of the earth.

I submit that Obama’s view on each of these is decidedly more Catholic than his opponent:

* McCain has been an avid supporter of the deregulated conditions that led to the economic crisis of today. He notoriously said the “fundamentals of the economy are strong.” He has repeatedly sided with Bush on the most fiscally reckless administration in generations. McCain’s current plan to increase tax cuts could only exacerbate today’s dismal conditions.

Obama’s plan has its share of expensive and unrealistic goals, but it is surely more in the direction of fairness and fiscal health.

* Obama favors increasing the federal minimum wage.

McCain voted yes on legislation that would allow employers to pay less than the federal minimum wage if the state set a lower minimum. He has voted against raising the minimum wage 19 times.

The independent Tax Policy Center states McCain's tax cuts would primarily benefit those with very high incomes. It also states Obama’s tax cuts for the middle class will be three times those proposed by McCain. TPC’s Web site states, “Sen. Obama offers much larger tax breaks to low- and middle-income taxpayers and would increase taxes on high-income taxpayers.”

* McCain’s Republican every-man-for-himself ideology opposes publicly funded health care, universal health care or health coverage mandates. He favors tax credits of up to $5,000 for families to get health insurance. He doesn’t aim to do much to provide health care for those who can’t afford it.

Obama's health care plan would implement guaranteed eligibility for affordable health care for all Americans. His plan would reduce the number of uninsured by 18 million by 2009 and 34 million by 2018, covering nearly all children.

* The Sierra Club remarks that Obama has a "strong record of support for clean air, wetlands protection, and clean energy." The League of Conservation Voters in February gave McCain a 2007 score of zero on Senate votes the group sees as important for the environment. He has a lifetime rating of 24 (out of 100) by that group.

Rather than bending to the masses calling for offshore drilling, Obama’s environmental plan would reduce overall U.S. oil consumption by at least 35 percent by 2030 in order to offset imports from OPEC nations. Obama voted in favor of the Energy Policy Act of 2005, which provided incentives to reduce national consumption of energy and to encourage a wide range of alternative energy sources.

* Since the war began in 2003, more than 4,100 American soldiers and more than 1 million Iraqi soldiers and civilians have died. Each one of these deaths could be considered senseless killings given the Bush administration’s admittance that their reason for war, weapons of mass destruction, never existed there.

The war in Iraq has been a national catastrophe both in Iraq and at home.

McCain has supported the war from its inception. Obama opposed it. He would pull the bulk of American troops out of Iraq in a reasonable amount of time. McCain cannot define victory and has no exit strategy.

Our country really has a chance to say something about itself this year, to resurrect its fading image around the world. Barring an unspeakable turnout of silent racists on Nov. 4, Obama should win in a landslide. He has convinced the vast majority of Americans he is the better, brighter, more believable candidate.

McCain’s clueless camp is busy pointing fingers and name calling.

For the first time ever the hallowed words “all men are created equal” will have a new, true meaning in America. The New Yorker put it this way: an Obama victory “could not help but say something encouraging, even exhilarating, about the country, about its dedication to tolerance and inclusiveness, about its fidelity, after all, to the values it proclaims in its textbooks.”

In his convention speech in Denver, Obama said, “Government cannot solve all our problems, but what it should do is that which we cannot do for ourselves: protect us from harm and provide every child a decent education; keep our water clean and our toys safe; invest in new schools and new roads and new science and technology.”

I think you’ll hear more of the same when he’s sworn in this January.

Coping with age

2008-05-11T11:53:00.002-04:00

Blue clouds of clove and patchouli drifted upward as paint-splattered Chuck Taylors darted past us in all directions.

A teen-ish emo couple fondled each other on the ground 10 feet away, seemingly oblivious to the hundreds filing into the lawn space around them.

“I feel old,” I told Tee. An understatement given that 90 percent of the crowd was younger than me. Probably more fleet of foot.

“I feel preppy,” she said. Without tie-dye or dreadlocks we were the clear minority.

“I’m straight up trounced, Bro!” Our neighbor’s eyes rolled back and his head flopped forward.

No doubt about it, the four of us were strangers in another world at last night’s Radiohead concert. Two friends, Tiffany and I had gone to Tampa for the show. We were joined by every Bay-area adolescent who skirted curfew or begged off the Blockbuster night shift.

We were a bit uneasy when a hippie’s misshapen tit plopped out of the satchel she was wearing as a makeshift top. Later we were downright shaken when she cheered and a full-on afro erupted from her pits.

At 7 p.m. the opening act, the Liars, ignited in a sort of experimental percussion bomb. The sun setting on their electronic-crap collage was the unofficial wink for smugglers to spark a doob. The smell reminded me of college and my 56-year-old uncle’s room at Grandma’s house. (He still lives at home, get it?!)

Our friend Stacey, preggers for the past four months, ducked under the plume while her reformed husband Brian leaned back for a deeper whiff. This whole adventure was my idea, so if their unborn baby ever fails the third grade, I’ll be indirectly responsible.

I started feeling terrible about the youth around us. I was jealous. It wasn’t so long ago that I was one of those smelly kids, I thought. At age 30 I love my life and my future wife, I just miss the days of guilt-free summers and sneaking around the authorities without a care in the world.

But then, just as I was about to wave a white flag in surrender to my age, Tee pointed to a shining ray of hope, a symbol that would help me get through this night and maybe even bridge the final gap into being an adult!

Nearby a stoner with shoulder-length hair bobbed to the rhythm as the bald spot on the back of his head screamed to me, “Mellow the fuuuuuuuck out, Dude!”

“That’s really sexy,” Tee joked. She’d much rather I have a peppery “do” than a chrome dome. Plus, a hookah-sized patch like this one made the guy look like a real douche bag.

Crazy as it sounds, that quiet bald spot was enough to scream a cheer of solace at me for the night. IT was right – you’re only as old as you feel and I was at a Radiohead concert, the band’s second stop on a huge world tour!

I gulped my pride, dipped back for a deep breath of second-hand smoke and soaked in the music.

The next two hours were blissful, even if my recreational drug — cold beer at $10 a pop — probably cost about the same without delivering half the punch as the illegal substances around us.

We made it home by after midnight. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d stayed up that late on a work night. I kissed Tee good-night and nestled my head into a fluffy pillow. Before nodding away I thanked God for great friends, great family, great music and great genes that spared me from male pattern baldness.

The humor of this story ends here. If you care to know about the music of Radiohead, read on below.

As for the concert it was kinda like my take on the band itself: pretty cool, not great. Before the show two huge flat screens broke some bad news to the faraway crowd: “Due to artist request television screens will not be turned on. Thank you for understanding.” That was another way of stating “All you poor schleps who wouldn’t spring for seats are going to have to just sit back and listen.”

Our seats were in the lawn, approximately 7 miles from the stage. The performing band may as well have been surviving members of Color Me Badd.

Radiohead sounded great; they were tight, fluid. Played a good mix of old and new for about two hours. But you go to a concert to watch the band, y’know? This would have been one kick ass show had we actually seen it.

************************************************************************************************

Radiohead setlist, Ford Amphitheatre
All I Need
There There
Lucky
Bangers + Mash
15 Step
Nude
Pyramid Song
Optimistic
Weird Fishes/Arpeggi
National Anthem
Idioteque
You And Whose Army?
Reckoner
Everything In Its Right Place
Airbag
Bodysnatchers
Videotape

First Encore
The Gloaming
The Tourist
Just
Faust Arp
Exit Music (For A Film)

Second Encore
The Bends
House Of Cards

Seeing Springsteen

2008-05-11T11:41:00.009-04:00

Gaylord Entertainment Center, April 12, 2000

The Ties That Bind
The Promised Land
Two Hearts
Darkness on the Edge of Town
Darlington County
Mansion on the Hill (dedicated to Hank Williams)
The River
Youngstown
Murder Inc.
Badlands
Out in the Street
Tenth Avenue Freeze-out
Working on the Highway
The Ghost of Tom Joad
Born in the U.S.A.
Backstreets

First Encore
Light of Day
Bobby Jean
Born to Run

Second Encore
Thunder Road
If I Should Fall Behind
Land of Hope and Dreams
Ramrod

St. Pete Times Forum, April 22, 2008

Backstreets
Radio Nowhere
Lonesome Day
No Surrender
Gypsy Biker
4th of July, Asbury Park (Sandy)
Growin' Up
Atlantic City
Because the Night
Darkness on the Edge of Town
She's the One
Livin' in the Future
The Promised Land
Waitin' on a Sunny Day
Brilliant Disguise
Racing in the Street
The Rising
Last to Die
Long Walk Home
Badlands
Out in the Street

Encore
I'll Fly Away
Rosalita
Born to Run
Tenth Avenue Freeze-out
American Land

September 12, 2009, Ford Amphiteatre

Badlands
Out In The Street
My Lucky Day
Spirit In The Night
Outlaw Pete
She's The One
Working On A Dream
Seeds
Johnny 99
Point Blank
Raise Your Hand
All Or Nothin' At All (first since 1992!)
Growin' Up
Jole Blon (Cajun standard)
Waiting On A Sunny Day
The Promised Land
Racing In The Streets
Lonesome Day
The Rising
Born To Run

Encore
Hard Times
Rosalita
American Land
Bobby Jean
Dancing In The Dark
Hungry Heart
Thunder Road

Now entering the blogosphere: a short bio

2007-11-25T18:20:00.000-05:00

Hello, everyone! If you're reading this, I'll assume you're either friend, family or foe looking to plot my demise. Let's hope you're a member of the former two groups. And if you're foe, well then, I just HATE you... and I hate your ... ass... FACE!

I'm a southern boy born and raised in Clarksville, Tenn. (Now hiring!) When I was 9 my folks and I moved to the 'burbs -- Bucolic Sango where no mailbox is safe from marauding teens and tobacky barns outnumber blacks 500 to 0. My parents raised me to be a real good writer. And they also had two other guys, who I'm proud to call my brothers. Sadly, Jonathan and Luke didn't come along until I was 10 and 13, respectively. A lonely child, I grew up with pretend friends, Tooteo and Tatteo. They were nice, but never returned calls.

I'm two months from turning 30. I'm a proud alum of my beloved University of Tennessee. I attended that grand facility from 1996-2000, during which time I did significant damage to my internal organs attending Volunteer football games. I consider myself incredibly blessed to have been enrolled there when Super Bowl MVP Peyton Manning was a classmate and when the Vols became the very first National Champion under the current, if flawed, BCS system.

We went 13-0 in 1998 and celebrated that January with a glorious party experience when we floated as many kegs in two nights as we had victories in four months. Along the way I helped storm the field when we beat the villainous Florida Gators [Suck it, Spurrier.].

I was a journalism major who somehow found work in my field after college. In one of the more questionable moves of my life, I relocated from Knoxville back home to the Queen (Latefah?) City. I was hired by the Fort Campbell Courier, a small weekly publication that allowed me to pretty much write whatever I wanted, within reason. There I met some good friends and good writers most of whom would eventually serve in Iraq.

After two and a half years I needed a change. The drunken, humdrum nightlife wasn't quite filling the void. And the dreary winters had taken their toll. I sent my unspectacular resume across the Sunshine State in search of greener pastures.

And boy, did I find them.

In Oct. 2003, I received a call from what would become the best boss I ever had, Kim Folstad who was editor of the Marco Island Eagle. After my first conversation with her, I knew I was coming to Florida. I just knew it. I interviewed in November, and was taken out to lunch with a wonderful trio of future co-workers, one of whom would become the love of my life, Tiffany. More on her later.

By the first week of December, my father and I had driven all my things down to Naples, Fla., and I was working as a general assignment reporter at The Eagle. My first New Year's was spent on Miami Beach with a friend. It was sunny and a perfect 73 degrees on Jan. 1, 2004. I knew then that I'd made the right decision.

Tiffany and I flirted around a bit in the early summer of that year and by July 4 we were creating fireworks of our own on the coast of Marco Island. We've been going strong ever since. (Tee is a gorgeous Louisiana girl and LSU grad who takes delight anytime her Tigers beat the Vols thanks to ill-timed interceptions thrown by Eric Ainge.)

After a couple years' resume building, we incredibly both got jobs at the Bradenton Herald. Tiffany became one of Bradentucky's premiere features writers. I was a GA, once again, but made may way up through the ranks to become the primary pain in the ass of Manatee County government. Yes, the meetings are long and boring, but it's fulfilling work since much of the community's biggest news stories come from the county seat.

We live happily with our two cats, Rube and Tiny whose name has become an ironic misnomer. Our cozy condo is seven minutes from the beach, 15 minutes from Sarasota, 25 minutes from St. Pete and about seven hours from our home towns.

I'm going to wrap up this chapter of the blog and start on another now. If you've read this far, thanks for tuning in. I look forward to posting plenty of stuff on this handy new blog, including opinions, thoughts and lists of my favorite things. I'll try to keep it fun and light-hearted as possible. Your feedback is welcome, but negative comments will be cut into little pieces.