Fascinating article. Oddly enough, the registration feature on the website the article references is down right now. Oh, how will I ever know where I stand without the machine telling me?
This morning a grey Altima parked in front of my house. It had New Jersey plates. The woman driving the car got out, took three full black trash bags out of the back seat and carried them up the walkway adjacent to the twelve unit garden apartment building across the street. A little while later a grey pickup truck pulled into the spot behind behind the Altima and two women got out. They walked around to the back of the truck which was one of those with the plastic cover covering the whole back part and opened the tailgate, took several black trash bags out of the back of the truck and instead of crossing the street carried them south toward the next corner and disappeared from my vantage point. A little while after a guy came down my street painting a while line to mark off the street parking. Someone want to tell me what's going on here?
The Stanley Cup playoffs continue to surprise me. Not in a good way either. I expected the final a long and entertaining series full of highly skilled, exciting play. Instead it has been largely a snoozefest with Detroit embracing a boring defense-first system that is aided and abetted by referees who appear to have been instructed by the league to call it like it’s 1999. On top of that, we have the sad ballad of Evgeni Malkin. Poor Evgeni is tired. It’s so hard to be a professional hockey player. Listen to his tale of woe from between games one and two in the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review: "I'm just tired," Malkin said. "Practice is long. The season is long. I feel bad." Awww...poor guy. Imagine how he’d feel if the Pens had played more than two games over the minimum you can play in the first 3 rounds and make the final. In just a few days Malkin has gone from being the guy that some overzealous writers called “this generation’s Messier to Crosby’s Gretzky...
It is late afternoon on Long Beach Island and a cargo ship is sliding south out on the Atlantic. The awsome Glen Jones is on 105.7 FM doing one of his day jobs, the Saturday afternoon shift. It's a very different listening experience from his WFMU Sunday afternoon show but an illuminating one nonetheless. I don't know how much creative control he has on his commercial radio shows though there are noticeable differences from the usual classic rock jock like unusual song selections from the typical roster of artists ("Working Man" from Rush instead of the dead horse that is "Tom Sawyer" or "The Immigrant Song" from Led Zeppelin instead of the dreaded you know what with the bustles in the hedgerows and whatnot) and interesting footnotes when one of the hoary old warhorses is on the playlist (he notes that "Carry On" by Kansas was on the soundtrack to a little-regarded 1975 movie called Heroes that starred Henry Winkler and Harrison...
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And how do I damage my prefrontal cortex so I can get rid of this nagging harrumph?