There were many moments worth remembering during the multi-network broadcast of the Haiti Earthquake Relief Telethon hastily put together by George Clooney on Friday, January 22nd. The soul stirring performances by Mary J. Blige, Coldplay, Bruce Springsteen and many others were very moving, and the stories of the Haitian people's tragedy, despair, and hope delivered by a bevy of celebrities were even more so. But the moment that affected me most was the sight of Chris Rock and a drawn, disabled man that the comedian spoke for while holding his hand. That man was Muhammad Ali.
Even though I have been keenly aware of his ongoing struggles with Parkinson's Disease, the sight of him in such a state was terribly unnerving. There are few things in life more sadly ironic than that of a broken down athlete. The betrayal of a body that was once so lithe and dexterous is truly cruel, and in Ali's case more so than most. Back in his 60's prime, Ali was a vision of athletic grace. A heavyweight boxer with lightning fast hands, an even faster mouth, and balletic feet, his gifts were staggering. But it's all gone now, taken away by one of the nastiest diseases known to man. He has been robbed not only of his physical mobility, but that of his communicative ability as well.
This is, of course, not the Ali I grew up with. When I was a kid in the 70's, everyone I went to school with loved Muhammad Ali. The same wasn't necessarily true of our parents. I can vividly recall coming home on a weekend night in 1978 and seeing my former alcoholic step father sitting two feet away from the television taking great pleasure in Ali losing to the unheralded Leon Spinks (a loss he would avenge 7 months later). "This guy's beating that draft dodger," he cackled. He also uttered some racial epithets that I will not share here. He was overjoyed, I was heartbroken.
My bigoted, drunken step father (and I'm using the word father in the loosest of terms) was hardly the only one who felt this way. Many people (mostly white) hated him for changing his name from Cassius Clay and joining the Black Muslims led by Malcolm X and Elijah Muhammad out of New York. Even worse, they despised him for "dodging" the draft during the Vietnam War. Which wasn't even true, he didn't flee to Canada or go underground. No, he stayed right here and attempted to exercise his rights as a conscientious objector. This incensed white folks to no end. They called him a traitor, a coward, and worse. The United States Government illegally stripped him of his heavyweight title and made it virtually impossible for him to earn a living as a boxer. During the controversy, he infamously stated, "I ain't got no quarrel with the Viet Cong." However, that quote only scratched the surface of his protest.
Here was a man who was good enough to win a Gold Medal at the 1960 Olympics in Rome for his country, but then came back home to Kentucky and couldn't drink from the same fountains or eat at the same restaurants as white people. He took that Gold Medal and threw it in the Ohio River. Then, a nation that did not provide him with equal rights, had the temerity to demand that he fight for a country that would not stand up for him. So, at great personal, financial, and professional risk, he said "no." He did this even though he would have probably never even seen any combat. He was offered the same opportunity by the U.S. Government that Joe Louis received. Yes, he would be drafted and wear a military uniform, but like Louis, he would become a morale booster not a soldier. He could have (as Louis did) simply toured military bases as a glorified good will ambassador, cheering troops and performing exhibitions. Still, he said "no." He could not be bought.
Four years went by before the Supreme Court stepped in and restored his right to box, and his peak years went with it. The Ali that emerged from exile was neither as quick or as sharp as the younger version who dominated the heavyweight division. Oh, he was still great, but he won as much with will as he did with skill. This meant taking more punches than he did in his prime. His brutal trilogy with Joe Frazier and the terrible beating he took from Larry Holmes in his next to last fight exacted an awful toll on his body. His speech and athletic prowess were noticeably impacted by the time he stopped boxing. And it was only a couple of years after his retirement that he was diagnosed with Parkinson's. A disease that would eventually rob him of so many basic functions.
However, as time went on, these trials with the Government, society, his health and in the ring performed an interesting function--they humanized him. Most people either came to realize that he was right about Vietnam, or simply let it go. And as his body broke down, his spirit and true nature lifted him up. His warm heart and acts of kindness (particularly towards children) softened all but the hardest of hearts. He became a sympathetic and even revered figure. Today, he is almost universally beloved.
Many people have a favorite Olympic moment. For some it's the U.S. Hockey Team's "Miracle On Ice" in 1980. For others, it might be "The Dream Team" led by Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson in 1992, or maybe it's Michael Phelps and his otherworldly aquatic exploits at the most recent summer games. All of these are fine choices, but my favorite Olympic memory has nothing to do with the winning of a medal by any athlete. For me, it was watching U.S. Gold Medal swimmer Janet Evans ascending the staircase at the 1992 Olympics in Atlanta, and handing the torch to a trembling, disease stricken Muhammad Ali who then turned and lit the Olympic flame. I don't mind telling you I cried my eyes out that night. A man who had rightly rejected his country and tossed his own Gold Medal into the water had come a long way--and so had we.
Now, don't get me wrong, Ali is no saint. Due to an incorrigible inability to remain faithful, Ali went through wives almost as fast as he went through opponents. And he was capable of terribly cruel remarks when promoting an upcoming fight. His treatment of Joe Frazier was particularly odious. He called Frazier--as proud a black man who ever lived--a "gorilla" and an "Uncle Tom." He once gave Ernie Terrell a ruthless beating in the ring for refusing to call him by his Muslim name. Ali carried Terrell a full 15 punishing rounds, repeatedly screaming "What's my name motherf*****!" while delivering lethal combinations to Terrell's head.
Still, these sins are forgivable for so many reasons. The willingness to stand for what you believe in no matter the consequences, and countless visits to sick children in hospitals are only two. However, I think the greatest lesson he has taught us is that even if you are sick, crippled, and speechless, you don't have to hide. You can live openly despite your handicap. His recent years have been lived as a profile in courage. No one would blame him if he hid. He has all the money he needs, a loving and faithful wife, and friends and caretakers to look after him. Yet, there he was on that Friday night sitting while Chris Rock spoke for him. Because somewhere there were people in need and he thought he could help, so to hell with his disease, he had to be there. In some ways, he is far more heroic now than he ever was as a boxer.
For many years after his retirement, Ali lived year 'round in Berrien Springs, Michigan. Only a half hour away from my home in South Bend. He became a real part of the community. He paid for a local baseball park and could be seen around town on a regular basis.
In 1996, I was working for Barnes and Noble when I found out that Ali would be coming to our store to do a book signing. I was scheduled to close the night of the event and the signing was set for the morning. So, I volunteered to work the signing as well as come back and perform my closing shift in the evening. On the Friday night before the event, I didn't get a second of sleep. I couldn't lie still or even hold a thought in my head. The anticipation was simply overwhelming. The next morning, I was the first person in the parking lot. We had a meeting prior to the opening of the store to go over the running of the event. I was told that I would be in charge of keeping the line moving, a task that would have me five feet from the champ. I thought I might vomit.
Due to his Parkinson's, Ali pre-signed what were called "book plates," which were essentially crack and peel stickers that customers could paste in their books after they met with Ali. Before the signing, it was my job to get all the bookplates pasted inside of the books set aside for my fellow booksellers. I was diligently and nervously slapping the plates on the inside cover of book after book when my co-worker, Brad turned to me and said "Dave, look behind you." I wheeled my head around and saw the man himself staring down at me with a mischievous grin. "Hi" I muttered as if I were a castrato. Profound, I know.
What followed was a Job-like exercise in patience. The whole event was supposed to last two hours, but it went on for four. Ali didn't want to turn anyone away. He did magic tricks for kids, he signed memorabilia (even though it was very difficult for him), and posed for photo after photo. Most of the customers were gracious, although some were far less so. We had made it clear that Ali would not be signing any items at the event due to his condition, but that didn't stop any number of jerks from asking him to do it anyway. Yet, as angry as it made me, it didn't seem to bother him at all. Like I said, the patience of Job.
After the event was completed, Ali took the time to meet with the employees and take pictures with them. When it was my turn, I feared I might wet myself. I sat down next to him and took his outstretched hand. He took one look at my shaven head and said "You look like Ernie Shavers," who was a similarly coiffed opponent of his in the late 70's. Those were the only words I heard him speak all day, and he said them to me. I could have died happily right then.
Like many people, I have a favorite Muhammad Ali story. Before Ali was to take on the heavily favored George Foreman in 1974, he visited the children's ward of a hospital. There he met a young boy stricken with terminal cancer. He told the child "I'm gonna beat George Foreman and you're gonna beat cancer!" After knocking out Foreman in the 8th round in Zaire, Ali returned to the young boy's bedside. The child's condition had worsened considerably. Ever positive, Ali burst into the boy's room and said "See, I told you! I beat George Foreman and you're gonna beat cancer!" The boy replied, "No champ, I'm going to meet God, and when I do I'm going to tell him I know you."
Someday, if I'm fortunate enough to crash the gates, I'll be able to say the same. How good is that?
Sumo-Pop
January 31, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Monday, January 18, 2010
Can't Anybody Here Play This Game II?
"I don't belong to any organized party: I'm a Democrat"---Will Rogers
Several months ago I wrote a column about the downfall and ineptitude of the Republican party (http://sumopopblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/cant-anybody-here-play-this-game.html). Now, I'm back for round 2. Only this time, I'm taking the Democrats to the woodshed.
Say what you want about the Republican Party, but at least it took 6 years for them to fall apart (the mid-terms of 2006). On the other hand, the Democrats only needed about 12 months.
Think of what the Democrats have squandered in the last year: After battering the Republicans in the 2006 mid-terms, electing their best candidate in years to the white house, and pulling out powerful majorities in both houses of congress in 2008, they may lose both houses by the end of the year. Unfortunately, you have to do more than win elections, you have to lead, and most of these Democrats have proven incapable.
After Tuesday night's election debacle in Massachusetts, there's plenty of blame to go around. So, let's hand some out shall we? We can start at the top, with the White House. President Obama rode in on a wave of change. Little did he know that many of the Democrats that got swept in on his tsunami would be complete pains in the ass. Even worse are the entrenched dinosaurs he inherited. It's been said that Obama could use a little more LBJ in him when it comes to dealing with congress, and while that's probably true, blaming the President for this mess is a bit like blaming Lebron James for the Cavaliers not winning the NBA championship. I mean, dear God, have you seen his teammates? Sure, Obama was naive about the willingness of Democrats in congress to get behind his ideas. Maybe he could have rolled out his agenda more clearly and forcefully. Perhaps he could have twisted more arms in the Senate and moved health care along faster. However, it's worth noting that in our system of government, the President is not a king, he's more of a point guard. And to be a good point guard, you can't shoot all the time, you have to pass the ball.
So, Obama passed the ball to congress in early 2009 and asked them to advance health care reform legislation. Now, I know it's popular to knock House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, but she's been fairly effective in getting legislation through the house. Unfortunately for President Obama, Pelosi had to pass the ball to Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid after the health care bill cleared the house. Harry Reid, the only man who can take a super majority and turn it into a deficit. To be fair to "milquetoast" Harry, no majority leader should ever be saddled with the likes of Joe Lieberman and Ben Nelson. Still, if Reid can't pull his party in line for the showcase issue of the Democratic platform, what good is he? Regardless, of what you may think of the Republican Party, they know how to carry the water for their president. Even if the destination for that water is off the edge of a cliff (see the Bush years), they will hold hands and pretend they can fly.
As far as the health care debate is concerned, it's worth noting that the Democrats in congress and the White House botched the roll out. It's difficult to defend a bill that doesn't exist yet, but easy for the opposition to take it apart. The Democrats took so long to figure out what they could agree on, that by the time they started to coalesce around a bill, the tea baggers, deathers, and right wing talk show hosts had done a real number on it. Whether it's death panels, socialism, or simply saying health care reform would destroy the deficit, the opponents of reform managed through uninformed (or willful) disinformation to shape the conversation around health care.
To be clear, there were no death panels in the bill, the public option that was being discussed (and eventually abandoned) was scaled way back from anything that would qualify as a government takeover, and the non-partisan Congressional Budget Office found the proposed bill to be both a short term and long term deficit reducer. However, starting with the town hall criers this summer and ending Tuesday night with the stunning election of an anti-reform Republican in the liberal state of Massachusetts---for the seat held by the greatest champion of health care reform in modern history (Teddy Kennedy)--- they controlled the debate.
One need look no further than the available polling data regarding the health care bill for evidence. In survey after survey, people who were asked if they were in favor of the bill or not, typically were opposed by solid margins. However, when they were asked specific questions about things that are in the bill like "Are you for ending the right of insurance companies to turn people down for coverage due to pre-existing conditions," they responded in favor of the bill's position by large margins. When you ask people if they are for disallowing insurance companies to drop people's coverage when they get sick (and therefore expensive), again, people largely responded "for." Hell, you can find many a poll that says that a plurality (if not a majority) of people are in favor of a public option. However, the Democrats, due to their plodding, were not able to make the sale. Now don't get me wrong, everyone who is against health care reform is not reflexively dishonest. Some folks just don't want government involvement in health care. I assume these same people are against Medicaid, Medicare, and the VA too. That would at least be consistent.
You could see this storm-a-brewin' before Tuesday night. The gubernatorial elections in New Jersey and Virginia earlier in the year were troubling signs of what was to come for Democrats. When incumbent Democrat, Jon Corzine lost in New Jersey to Republican Chris Christie, and fellow Democrat, Creigh Deeds got waxed by Bob McDonnell for the open seat in Virginia (previously held by current DNC Chairman, Tim Kaine), the Democratic Party got a taste of the future. Now, we have the election of Scott Brown over state Attorney General Martha Coakley in Massachusetts.
So, how did all this happen? How did these three seats held by Democrats fall to the opposition? Let's take a look at the candidates.
In New Jersey, Governor Corzine was a Wall Street connected (former chairman of Goldman Sachs), ineffectual, and highly unpopular politician. In fact, his job approval rating was in the 30s just prior to election. Numbers that were only slightly higher than that of George Bush in the final year of his disastrous presidency. Even though Corzine didn't have a strong opponent in Christie, he never had a chance.
In Virginia, Creigh Deeds ran a lousy campaign that never gave the people a reason to vote for him. On the surface, Deeds looked like a good candidate. He was well-known state wide, with rural roots, and had narrowly lost to McDonnell in the 2005 state race for Attorney General. Coming off Obama's victory in Virginia, Deeds looked poised to succeed Tim Kaine and keep the Governor's house with the Democrats. However, Deeds ran a negative campaign from the start, ran away from President Obama early on, then tried to close the contest by running back to Obama, and flailed away without a cogent message in between. To make matters worse for Deeds, the staunch conservative, McDonnell ran a terrific, disciplined campaign as a centrist Republican. While McDonnell's candidacy was not entirely on the level (he's no centrist), it was effective.
That leaves us with Martha Coakley, Scott Brown, and Massachusetts. You know how I said that Deeds ran a lousy campaign? Well, Coakley ran almost no campaign at all. After winning the Democratic Primary to become the nominee in the special election for the late Teddy Kennedy's Senate seat, Coakley sat on her hands until about three weeks ago, when her poll numbers started to crater. She ran (if you can even call it that) as the lady of the manor, as if there was no way in hell that the people of Massachusetts would ever consider someone else. She ran hardly any TV ads, turned down multiple opportunities to debate Brown (and got clobbered when she finally did), and actually said she didn't see the point in going out in 30 degree weather to "meet new people." Brown, on the other hand, worked his ass off. He had clever ads, struck a "man of the people" pose, and is blessed with good looks and a dynamic personality. In a normal year, Coakley might have been able to coast to victory. However, in a tough year for Democrats, Coakley simply couldn't rely on the base alone, she needed independents too. She never even gave them a reason to consider her.
So, why after one year is this such a tough time for Democrats? Well, to quote James Carville, "It's the economy, stupid." Unemployment is at 10%, and those that have jobs fear losing them. The year long health care debate made Democrats appear distracted from what people care about the most, work (or the lack of it). People are fed up with bail-outs, million dollar bonuses for the bankers who got us in this mess, and a stimulus plan that they aren't feeling the benefits of. And, they no longer care that Bush got us into this mess. Nevermind that most economists believe the bailouts and stimulus plan may have saved us from a depression, the people aren't buying it. Not to mention, that it's very hard to prove that if we hadn't done this, things would be even worse. This, along with a lazy candidate, is how you get an anti-health care reform candidate named Scott Brown winning the seat previously held by Teddy Kennedy (who must be doing 60 revolutions per minute right now).
So, now that the Democrats have lost their 60 vote super majority (needed to pass almost anything of major consequence) in the Senate, where does that leave us (to hell with them) now? Well, quite possibly, nowhere. Republicans are now emboldened as the party of "no," and sitting Democrats are scared shitless to move forward with anything that might be the least bit controversial. This means goodbye cap and trade, immigration reform, entitlement reform, and quite likely any significant health care reform. Oh, they may be able to pass some small things, do some nibbling around the edges, but forget about addressing the largest issues of the day. The only possible exception is the economy. Obama may be able to do something there by employing the strategy that Clinton used against Republicans when he was president. Take their issues and use them against them. Push for measures so popular with the public and dare the opposition to vote against them. Perhaps a bank tax, caps on bonuses and the salaries of bank CEO's, maybe even some financial regulation, and definitely some kind of jobs bill. That would be very difficult for the party of "no" not to say yes to.
But here's the thing that scares me most about our current two party system: Neither of them seem to be prepared to lead. The Republicans have positioned themselves as the party of financial responsibility despite all of the evidence to the contrary during the Bush years, and the Democrats in congress are too chicken shit to take a genuine stand for whatever it is that they profess to believe. And if Republicans are so sure that their comeback is at hand, they may want to be careful of overreacting. The overall popularity of Republicans is actually lower than that of the Democrats (although the Dem's are sure working on it). In fact, the most popular politician with the public at large is still President Obama.
Unfortunately for the President, he like Lebron James has no Scottie Pippen, or even a Horace Grant to back him up. Before Lebron joined the Cavaliers in 2003, the Cleveland Cavaliers were often referred to as the "cadavers" for their moribund play. Well, that's what Obama is left with now, a bunch of cadavers. And with the opposition party in no mood to compromise, we the people are left with two nasty, partisan, rudderless groups of politicians who are probably taking us nowhere at an excruciatingly slow place. In other words, we're fucked, again. Or is it still?
Sumo-Pop
January 18, 2010
Several months ago I wrote a column about the downfall and ineptitude of the Republican party (http://sumopopblog.blogspot.com/2009/07/cant-anybody-here-play-this-game.html). Now, I'm back for round 2. Only this time, I'm taking the Democrats to the woodshed.
Say what you want about the Republican Party, but at least it took 6 years for them to fall apart (the mid-terms of 2006). On the other hand, the Democrats only needed about 12 months.
Think of what the Democrats have squandered in the last year: After battering the Republicans in the 2006 mid-terms, electing their best candidate in years to the white house, and pulling out powerful majorities in both houses of congress in 2008, they may lose both houses by the end of the year. Unfortunately, you have to do more than win elections, you have to lead, and most of these Democrats have proven incapable.
After Tuesday night's election debacle in Massachusetts, there's plenty of blame to go around. So, let's hand some out shall we? We can start at the top, with the White House. President Obama rode in on a wave of change. Little did he know that many of the Democrats that got swept in on his tsunami would be complete pains in the ass. Even worse are the entrenched dinosaurs he inherited. It's been said that Obama could use a little more LBJ in him when it comes to dealing with congress, and while that's probably true, blaming the President for this mess is a bit like blaming Lebron James for the Cavaliers not winning the NBA championship. I mean, dear God, have you seen his teammates? Sure, Obama was naive about the willingness of Democrats in congress to get behind his ideas. Maybe he could have rolled out his agenda more clearly and forcefully. Perhaps he could have twisted more arms in the Senate and moved health care along faster. However, it's worth noting that in our system of government, the President is not a king, he's more of a point guard. And to be a good point guard, you can't shoot all the time, you have to pass the ball.
So, Obama passed the ball to congress in early 2009 and asked them to advance health care reform legislation. Now, I know it's popular to knock House Speaker Nancy Pelosi, but she's been fairly effective in getting legislation through the house. Unfortunately for President Obama, Pelosi had to pass the ball to Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid after the health care bill cleared the house. Harry Reid, the only man who can take a super majority and turn it into a deficit. To be fair to "milquetoast" Harry, no majority leader should ever be saddled with the likes of Joe Lieberman and Ben Nelson. Still, if Reid can't pull his party in line for the showcase issue of the Democratic platform, what good is he? Regardless, of what you may think of the Republican Party, they know how to carry the water for their president. Even if the destination for that water is off the edge of a cliff (see the Bush years), they will hold hands and pretend they can fly.
As far as the health care debate is concerned, it's worth noting that the Democrats in congress and the White House botched the roll out. It's difficult to defend a bill that doesn't exist yet, but easy for the opposition to take it apart. The Democrats took so long to figure out what they could agree on, that by the time they started to coalesce around a bill, the tea baggers, deathers, and right wing talk show hosts had done a real number on it. Whether it's death panels, socialism, or simply saying health care reform would destroy the deficit, the opponents of reform managed through uninformed (or willful) disinformation to shape the conversation around health care.
To be clear, there were no death panels in the bill, the public option that was being discussed (and eventually abandoned) was scaled way back from anything that would qualify as a government takeover, and the non-partisan Congressional Budget Office found the proposed bill to be both a short term and long term deficit reducer. However, starting with the town hall criers this summer and ending Tuesday night with the stunning election of an anti-reform Republican in the liberal state of Massachusetts---for the seat held by the greatest champion of health care reform in modern history (Teddy Kennedy)--- they controlled the debate.
One need look no further than the available polling data regarding the health care bill for evidence. In survey after survey, people who were asked if they were in favor of the bill or not, typically were opposed by solid margins. However, when they were asked specific questions about things that are in the bill like "Are you for ending the right of insurance companies to turn people down for coverage due to pre-existing conditions," they responded in favor of the bill's position by large margins. When you ask people if they are for disallowing insurance companies to drop people's coverage when they get sick (and therefore expensive), again, people largely responded "for." Hell, you can find many a poll that says that a plurality (if not a majority) of people are in favor of a public option. However, the Democrats, due to their plodding, were not able to make the sale. Now don't get me wrong, everyone who is against health care reform is not reflexively dishonest. Some folks just don't want government involvement in health care. I assume these same people are against Medicaid, Medicare, and the VA too. That would at least be consistent.
You could see this storm-a-brewin' before Tuesday night. The gubernatorial elections in New Jersey and Virginia earlier in the year were troubling signs of what was to come for Democrats. When incumbent Democrat, Jon Corzine lost in New Jersey to Republican Chris Christie, and fellow Democrat, Creigh Deeds got waxed by Bob McDonnell for the open seat in Virginia (previously held by current DNC Chairman, Tim Kaine), the Democratic Party got a taste of the future. Now, we have the election of Scott Brown over state Attorney General Martha Coakley in Massachusetts.
So, how did all this happen? How did these three seats held by Democrats fall to the opposition? Let's take a look at the candidates.
In New Jersey, Governor Corzine was a Wall Street connected (former chairman of Goldman Sachs), ineffectual, and highly unpopular politician. In fact, his job approval rating was in the 30s just prior to election. Numbers that were only slightly higher than that of George Bush in the final year of his disastrous presidency. Even though Corzine didn't have a strong opponent in Christie, he never had a chance.
In Virginia, Creigh Deeds ran a lousy campaign that never gave the people a reason to vote for him. On the surface, Deeds looked like a good candidate. He was well-known state wide, with rural roots, and had narrowly lost to McDonnell in the 2005 state race for Attorney General. Coming off Obama's victory in Virginia, Deeds looked poised to succeed Tim Kaine and keep the Governor's house with the Democrats. However, Deeds ran a negative campaign from the start, ran away from President Obama early on, then tried to close the contest by running back to Obama, and flailed away without a cogent message in between. To make matters worse for Deeds, the staunch conservative, McDonnell ran a terrific, disciplined campaign as a centrist Republican. While McDonnell's candidacy was not entirely on the level (he's no centrist), it was effective.
That leaves us with Martha Coakley, Scott Brown, and Massachusetts. You know how I said that Deeds ran a lousy campaign? Well, Coakley ran almost no campaign at all. After winning the Democratic Primary to become the nominee in the special election for the late Teddy Kennedy's Senate seat, Coakley sat on her hands until about three weeks ago, when her poll numbers started to crater. She ran (if you can even call it that) as the lady of the manor, as if there was no way in hell that the people of Massachusetts would ever consider someone else. She ran hardly any TV ads, turned down multiple opportunities to debate Brown (and got clobbered when she finally did), and actually said she didn't see the point in going out in 30 degree weather to "meet new people." Brown, on the other hand, worked his ass off. He had clever ads, struck a "man of the people" pose, and is blessed with good looks and a dynamic personality. In a normal year, Coakley might have been able to coast to victory. However, in a tough year for Democrats, Coakley simply couldn't rely on the base alone, she needed independents too. She never even gave them a reason to consider her.
So, why after one year is this such a tough time for Democrats? Well, to quote James Carville, "It's the economy, stupid." Unemployment is at 10%, and those that have jobs fear losing them. The year long health care debate made Democrats appear distracted from what people care about the most, work (or the lack of it). People are fed up with bail-outs, million dollar bonuses for the bankers who got us in this mess, and a stimulus plan that they aren't feeling the benefits of. And, they no longer care that Bush got us into this mess. Nevermind that most economists believe the bailouts and stimulus plan may have saved us from a depression, the people aren't buying it. Not to mention, that it's very hard to prove that if we hadn't done this, things would be even worse. This, along with a lazy candidate, is how you get an anti-health care reform candidate named Scott Brown winning the seat previously held by Teddy Kennedy (who must be doing 60 revolutions per minute right now).
So, now that the Democrats have lost their 60 vote super majority (needed to pass almost anything of major consequence) in the Senate, where does that leave us (to hell with them) now? Well, quite possibly, nowhere. Republicans are now emboldened as the party of "no," and sitting Democrats are scared shitless to move forward with anything that might be the least bit controversial. This means goodbye cap and trade, immigration reform, entitlement reform, and quite likely any significant health care reform. Oh, they may be able to pass some small things, do some nibbling around the edges, but forget about addressing the largest issues of the day. The only possible exception is the economy. Obama may be able to do something there by employing the strategy that Clinton used against Republicans when he was president. Take their issues and use them against them. Push for measures so popular with the public and dare the opposition to vote against them. Perhaps a bank tax, caps on bonuses and the salaries of bank CEO's, maybe even some financial regulation, and definitely some kind of jobs bill. That would be very difficult for the party of "no" not to say yes to.
But here's the thing that scares me most about our current two party system: Neither of them seem to be prepared to lead. The Republicans have positioned themselves as the party of financial responsibility despite all of the evidence to the contrary during the Bush years, and the Democrats in congress are too chicken shit to take a genuine stand for whatever it is that they profess to believe. And if Republicans are so sure that their comeback is at hand, they may want to be careful of overreacting. The overall popularity of Republicans is actually lower than that of the Democrats (although the Dem's are sure working on it). In fact, the most popular politician with the public at large is still President Obama.
Unfortunately for the President, he like Lebron James has no Scottie Pippen, or even a Horace Grant to back him up. Before Lebron joined the Cavaliers in 2003, the Cleveland Cavaliers were often referred to as the "cadavers" for their moribund play. Well, that's what Obama is left with now, a bunch of cadavers. And with the opposition party in no mood to compromise, we the people are left with two nasty, partisan, rudderless groups of politicians who are probably taking us nowhere at an excruciatingly slow place. In other words, we're fucked, again. Or is it still?
Sumo-Pop
January 18, 2010
Unobtainium
There are some things in pop culture that I find difficult to understand. While I can gather why many things are successful, I sometimes struggle with the level of popularity of certain artists, books, or movies. Take Dave Matthews and John Mayer (please). I can understand why people like them, I just don't get why so many people like them so much. I mean, they're affable and inoffensive, but really pretty ordinary. When was the last time either of them did anything surprising? And I have to say, after seeing Avatar in the theater, I feel much the same about it.
As everyone knows, James Cameron's rereleased picture about really tall blue people has become a massive phenomenon. Its extraordinary box office results surpassed Cameron's own Titanic for the mantle of the highest grossing film ever. To top it off, critics are down with it too. Avatar won best picture at the Golden Globes and was nominated for 12 Oscars including best picture (losing mercifully to the infinitely superior, Hurt Locker, directed by Cameron's ex-wife, Katherine Bigelow). However, after leaving the theater, I felt decidedly underwhelmed.
I should first say that I am no hater of James Cameron. I have liked--to one degree or another--everyone of his previous films. From what I consider his high point of Aliens and the first two Terminator pictures, to his relative low point of True Lies, I have enjoyed them all. I am a staunch defender of The Abyss and I even think that Titanic is pretty terrific. So when I walked into the theater, it was with no malice aforethought. I sort of see Cameron as Michael Bay with taste, class, and far more talent. He is the rarest of breeds, a visionary blockbuster filmmaker. But once you get past the visuals, Avatar is pretty average, even generic.
Obviously, for most people the visuals will carry the day. And it has to be said that Cameron's use of CGI and motion capture technology makes for a genuine leap forward in Avatar. The computer generated characters are more expressive and life-like than in any previous effects driven film to date. So, I will certainly give him all of that. Unfortunately, all this technical wizardry serves a lackluster, recycled story that mashes up elements of Star Wars, Dances With Wolves, Jurassic Park, and even Transformers.
As those who have seen it already know, Avatar tells the story of a paraplegic soldier (well played by Sam Worthington), who signs up to be a genetically created avatar to infiltrate the tribe of blue Na'vi natives whose planet contains a precious mineral that holds the key to Earth's survival (not that it's explained very well). The problem the mighty corporate soldiers of Earth face is the Na'vi--quite understandably--don't want their planet destroyed for the sake of the earthlings. So, it's Worthington's job to convince the big blues to move off their holy ground before the military takes it by force. If you haven't seen it, you can probably guess what happens next. As Worthington gets to know the Na'vi, he finds he respects these noble savages and even finds love (surprise, surprise) with the most comely of the big blues played fairly well by Zoe Saldana. All of this leads to a showdown between the Na'vi and the mean, nasty jarheads lead by the laughably militant, and over the top General Quaritch (Steven Lang).
Lang (a fine actor normally), is saddled with horrendously obvious dialogue. He actually uses the phrases "shock and awe" and "We'll fight terror with terror!" Lang's brute force method acting is no help either. He comes on like a man who chews nails and urinates rust. He's so obviously one-note that I'm surprised Cameron didn't just use a computer generated John Wayne for the role. Hell, he should've just walked around in a black hat, smoking a stogie, and an "I'm a right wing racist bastard" t-shirt.
In fact, the politics of Avatar (to my liberally minded surprise) actually turn out to be a big problem in the movie. While the film's heart is (for me anyway) in the right place, it's so patently obvious that the perspective of the villainous earthlings is based on George Bush's administration, that there is no room in the film for nuance. Take the corporate weenie played by Giovanni Ribisi. He clearly is a stand in for every cut throat, pro-business at all costs, corporate bastard that you halfway expect him to start touting tax cuts for the rich and "trickle down" economics. From his weaselly demeanor to his adenoidal voice, he (like Lang) is a complete caricature.
It's not hard to see what Cameron's getting at here, because he beats you over the head with it. Every ham-fisted scene is so "on the nose" that I began to feel belittled if not downright insulted. Invaders: bad, indigenous people: good, corporations: bad, noble savages: good, military might: bad, people with bows and arrows: good, and so on and so on. The irritating part is that on the surface, I actually agree with Cameron's point of view. It's the presentation of these ideas that is lacking. It's sort of like Ed Schultz. If he were to write down on a piece of paper everything he believes in, I would probably be down with 90% of it. However, that doesn't mean I want him as my spokesperson, or even to spend two minutes in a room with him.
Cameron has never been noted for his dialogue (see Titanic: "Jack!" "Rose!" "Jack!" "Rose!"), but did he really have to call the magical, earth saving mineral, "unobtainium?" I mean really, "unobtainium!?" I wonder whatever does he mean (this sentence washed in sarcasm)? And I know that in a movie like this there will be gaps of logic that you are supposed to overlook, but when the military chopper pilot (Michelle Rodriguez) aborts her Na'vi slaying mission (effectively becoming a mutineer), how in the hell does no one notice? It strains the mind that after said attack she is up walking around free and able to rescue the "good" humans and help defend planet Pandora from the Bushies, I mean earthlings, whatever.
Yes, I know I'm supposed to look past all of this and just stare at the screen and say "pretty" in a trance like state, but I just can't do it. After a while I need more than visual stimulation. I need arresting characters, and you know, a compelling story. Well, I didn't find any of that here. In fact, I didn't care about any of the characters onscreen, or who ended up with the unobtainium, or whether Earth would be saved or not. I would even go as far to say that it bothered me more when the dinosaur-like creatures that inhabited Pandora died than it did when any of the oversized smurfs bought it.
As I implied before, I'm not against big blockbusters. I loved The Dark Knight and all three of The Lord Of The Rings flicks. Those movies moved and rattled me. They made me feel something. All Avatar made me feel was a sort of benign boredom. It's silly, hokey, heavy-handed, and way too long.
Of course, I'm keenly aware that I'm in the minority on this one, and that's okay, I've been there before. But ask yourself this, how could a man spend ten years creating an admittedly eye-popping, alien world and have the linch pin of the movie hinge on something called "unobtainium?" Not good enough. Not even close. There was a movie that came out last summer that dealt with many of the same themes. It could be said of both films that the lead character had to become an alien to find his own humanity. That other movie is called District 9. I suggest you seek it out, it is vastly superior.
Sumo-Pop
January 18, 2010
As everyone knows, James Cameron's rereleased picture about really tall blue people has become a massive phenomenon. Its extraordinary box office results surpassed Cameron's own Titanic for the mantle of the highest grossing film ever. To top it off, critics are down with it too. Avatar won best picture at the Golden Globes and was nominated for 12 Oscars including best picture (losing mercifully to the infinitely superior, Hurt Locker, directed by Cameron's ex-wife, Katherine Bigelow). However, after leaving the theater, I felt decidedly underwhelmed.
I should first say that I am no hater of James Cameron. I have liked--to one degree or another--everyone of his previous films. From what I consider his high point of Aliens and the first two Terminator pictures, to his relative low point of True Lies, I have enjoyed them all. I am a staunch defender of The Abyss and I even think that Titanic is pretty terrific. So when I walked into the theater, it was with no malice aforethought. I sort of see Cameron as Michael Bay with taste, class, and far more talent. He is the rarest of breeds, a visionary blockbuster filmmaker. But once you get past the visuals, Avatar is pretty average, even generic.
Obviously, for most people the visuals will carry the day. And it has to be said that Cameron's use of CGI and motion capture technology makes for a genuine leap forward in Avatar. The computer generated characters are more expressive and life-like than in any previous effects driven film to date. So, I will certainly give him all of that. Unfortunately, all this technical wizardry serves a lackluster, recycled story that mashes up elements of Star Wars, Dances With Wolves, Jurassic Park, and even Transformers.
As those who have seen it already know, Avatar tells the story of a paraplegic soldier (well played by Sam Worthington), who signs up to be a genetically created avatar to infiltrate the tribe of blue Na'vi natives whose planet contains a precious mineral that holds the key to Earth's survival (not that it's explained very well). The problem the mighty corporate soldiers of Earth face is the Na'vi--quite understandably--don't want their planet destroyed for the sake of the earthlings. So, it's Worthington's job to convince the big blues to move off their holy ground before the military takes it by force. If you haven't seen it, you can probably guess what happens next. As Worthington gets to know the Na'vi, he finds he respects these noble savages and even finds love (surprise, surprise) with the most comely of the big blues played fairly well by Zoe Saldana. All of this leads to a showdown between the Na'vi and the mean, nasty jarheads lead by the laughably militant, and over the top General Quaritch (Steven Lang).
Lang (a fine actor normally), is saddled with horrendously obvious dialogue. He actually uses the phrases "shock and awe" and "We'll fight terror with terror!" Lang's brute force method acting is no help either. He comes on like a man who chews nails and urinates rust. He's so obviously one-note that I'm surprised Cameron didn't just use a computer generated John Wayne for the role. Hell, he should've just walked around in a black hat, smoking a stogie, and an "I'm a right wing racist bastard" t-shirt.
In fact, the politics of Avatar (to my liberally minded surprise) actually turn out to be a big problem in the movie. While the film's heart is (for me anyway) in the right place, it's so patently obvious that the perspective of the villainous earthlings is based on George Bush's administration, that there is no room in the film for nuance. Take the corporate weenie played by Giovanni Ribisi. He clearly is a stand in for every cut throat, pro-business at all costs, corporate bastard that you halfway expect him to start touting tax cuts for the rich and "trickle down" economics. From his weaselly demeanor to his adenoidal voice, he (like Lang) is a complete caricature.
It's not hard to see what Cameron's getting at here, because he beats you over the head with it. Every ham-fisted scene is so "on the nose" that I began to feel belittled if not downright insulted. Invaders: bad, indigenous people: good, corporations: bad, noble savages: good, military might: bad, people with bows and arrows: good, and so on and so on. The irritating part is that on the surface, I actually agree with Cameron's point of view. It's the presentation of these ideas that is lacking. It's sort of like Ed Schultz. If he were to write down on a piece of paper everything he believes in, I would probably be down with 90% of it. However, that doesn't mean I want him as my spokesperson, or even to spend two minutes in a room with him.
Cameron has never been noted for his dialogue (see Titanic: "Jack!" "Rose!" "Jack!" "Rose!"), but did he really have to call the magical, earth saving mineral, "unobtainium?" I mean really, "unobtainium!?" I wonder whatever does he mean (this sentence washed in sarcasm)? And I know that in a movie like this there will be gaps of logic that you are supposed to overlook, but when the military chopper pilot (Michelle Rodriguez) aborts her Na'vi slaying mission (effectively becoming a mutineer), how in the hell does no one notice? It strains the mind that after said attack she is up walking around free and able to rescue the "good" humans and help defend planet Pandora from the Bushies, I mean earthlings, whatever.
Yes, I know I'm supposed to look past all of this and just stare at the screen and say "pretty" in a trance like state, but I just can't do it. After a while I need more than visual stimulation. I need arresting characters, and you know, a compelling story. Well, I didn't find any of that here. In fact, I didn't care about any of the characters onscreen, or who ended up with the unobtainium, or whether Earth would be saved or not. I would even go as far to say that it bothered me more when the dinosaur-like creatures that inhabited Pandora died than it did when any of the oversized smurfs bought it.
As I implied before, I'm not against big blockbusters. I loved The Dark Knight and all three of The Lord Of The Rings flicks. Those movies moved and rattled me. They made me feel something. All Avatar made me feel was a sort of benign boredom. It's silly, hokey, heavy-handed, and way too long.
Of course, I'm keenly aware that I'm in the minority on this one, and that's okay, I've been there before. But ask yourself this, how could a man spend ten years creating an admittedly eye-popping, alien world and have the linch pin of the movie hinge on something called "unobtainium?" Not good enough. Not even close. There was a movie that came out last summer that dealt with many of the same themes. It could be said of both films that the lead character had to become an alien to find his own humanity. That other movie is called District 9. I suggest you seek it out, it is vastly superior.
Sumo-Pop
January 18, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Sumo-Pop's Top 10 Guilty Pleasures (music division)
Here lies my great shame:
10) Billy Idol- Inexplicably respected in some corners, he may be the fakest punk rocker ever. It's all image kids, there's as much new wave synthesizers on his records as there is guitars. Yet, that voice is amazing. All raw, leathery and booming, he's like a male Joan Jett minus the credibility. And who doesn't turn it up when Billy sings "In the midnight hour/she cried more, more, more?" I would also say that he has the highest percentage of songs about fucking than just about anyone else.
Quintessential Cut: Rebel Yell http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToeY7MkCm0c
9) Carly Simon- High grade cheez. Her voice is as annoying as it is distinctive. Her music as cloying as it is particular. She was even married to James Taylor, who I hate with a red-eyed passion. However, somehow this elevator music siren gets a pass from me.
Quintessential Cut: You're So Vain http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0EsLCPsF4&feature=related
8) Duran Duran- On the face of it, they are everything I'm against. They are slaves to style and fashion. Most of they're songs make no sense (The Reflex anyone?), and without the explosion of MTV and music video they would have disappeared faster than you can say Gary Glitter. However, they produced about 15-20 genuinely catching songs about God only knows what, and I like every damn one of them.
Quintessential Cut: Hungry Like The Wolf http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0EsLCPsF4&feature=related
7) Frankie Goes To Hollywood- Other than the lead singer this wasn't even a real band. The other four guys on the cover of their debut album Welcome To The Pleasure Dome are said to not have even played on the album. This of course means that the only thing that separated them from Milli Vanilli was Holly Johnson's vocals. The very definition of producer puppets, these guys burst out of England with what has to be the dirtiest song to ever hit the Top 10 (Relax don't do it/when you wanna cum). That hit turned up in Brian DePalma's 80's grindhouse flick Body Double. In fact Johnson comes through the door while Relax booms over the soundtrack as lead actor Craig Wasson is about to give Melanie Griffith's porn star character (the wonderfully named Holly Body) the business. Which of course proves that Mr. DePalma knew exactly what the song was about, and how to best use it. Unfortunately, I approve.
Quintessential Cut: Relax (Body Double version) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2TLAxTY9Xs
6) The Goo Goo Dolls- I should really hate them. And I do mean really. The lead singer and creative force (such that it is) of the band, Johnny Rzeznik basically has been dumbing down and rewriting Paul Westerberg songs, while also imitating the style of The Replacements minus any rough edges or originality. Even worse, they have been far more successful than the band (who I LOVE) they so wantonly imitate. But I can't find one damn song by them that I can't hum along to. Sheesh.
Quintessential Cut: Iris http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpO9MSEWpxc
5) John Waite/The Babys/Bad English- Before John Waite went to number one with his pop-cheez classic Missing You, he was the lead singer of a British power pop band (The Babys) that couldn't get arrested in their own country (despite naming one of their albums Union Jacks!), yet somehow scored a trio of top 40 hits over here. After his solo career dried up, he essentially fronted Journey in the truly shitty band, Bad English lead by Mr. Don't Stop Believin' guitar hero Neal Schon himself. They scored two massive hits with the bloody awful When I See You Smile, and the nearly as bad Price Of Love. Their next album flopped and John Waite went back to his solo career and recently scored a hit on the country(!) charts with a remake of Missing You featuring Alison Krauss. I own all this crap. What can I say? The man's got pipes.
Quintessential Cut: Missing You http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjAPQJWIz6Y
4) Howard Jones- You probably remember the near Flock Of Seagulls hairstyle better than you do his succession of synth pop hits. But Things Can Only Get Better, New Song, What Is Love, Human's Lib, and Like To Get To Know You Well were unmissable during the 80s. Eventually, the hits disappeared along with his hairline, but every one of these bandless, artless, simple simon tunes makes me smile. What are you gonna do?
Quintissential Cut: Things Can Only Get Better http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_lnVjSnS9EQ
3) Billy Squier- The man could sing like Robert Plant, minus the taste and relative class of course. He took that big voice and surrounded it with big dumb drums and big dumb guitars. His biggest hits The Stroke, Rock Me Tonite, and Everybody Wants You, have all the depth of a Michael Bay movie. In fact, how is it that none of these songs have ever made into one of Bay's abominations? Surely Armageddon would have been improved by My Kinda Lover during Ben Affleck and Liv Tyler's animal cracker scene. The last thing I ever heard about Squier was that he was making a concept album based on Dante's Inferno. Pray your Gods that never comes to light.
Quintessential Cut: The Stroke http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bLHc-yIAPbg
2) Kenny Loggins- Sure, I like all those tunes from all those crappy 80s movies back when Kenny was the king of the soundtrack single (and what a thing to be). But what I really like is the early Loggins (you know when he was cool-ha!). Soft rock "classics" like Heart To Heart, This Is It, and Whenever I Call You Friend were always welcome when my mom took me with her to the Suds-Yer-Duds laundromat in Niles when I was a boy in the seventies. Just thinking about one of those songs brings the comforting fragrance of laundry detergent back to the forefront of my mind. Ah, those were the days.
Quintessential Cut: Footloose http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RdSWXRZu7OM
1) Rick Springfield- The mother (father?) of all guilty pleasures. To my great and everlasting embarrassment, I can't think of a single Springfield tune I don't like. The Aussie singer had a top 20 hit in 1972 with a song that to the best of my knowledge no one has ever heard called Speak To the Sky. He then was lost from view until he took the job of playing Noah on General Hospital. That's right, his big break was acting in a soap opera. With his new found visibility, Springfield relaunched his pop career and became the object of desire for stay-at-home mom's everywhere. And once he got started, he couldn't be stopped. The hits began with I've Done Everything For You in 1981, peaked with the power chord monster hit Jessie's Girl the same year and ended with the top 30 hit Rock Of Life in 1988. In all, Springfield hit the top 10 5 times in the 80s and the top 40 15 times. Oh, it was Ricky's world and we were just livin' in it. Yeah, I know this should be terribly embarrassing (and to a degree, it is), but I'll never forget sitting in a movie theater, watching Paul Thomas Anderson's classic film about 70s porn, Boogie Nights and hearing Jessie's Girl blaring from the speakers during Dirk Diggler's (Mark Wahlberg) hapless attempt to sell drugs to a whacked out Alfred Molina. That's called affirmation, homeslice.
Quintessential Cut: Jessie's Girl http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adaYUM5wl7c
Alright, that's the list. I've shown you mine, now you show me yours. I'm sure there's some Styx and Journey fans (God help you) out there somewhere.
Sum-Pop
January 17, 2010
10) Billy Idol- Inexplicably respected in some corners, he may be the fakest punk rocker ever. It's all image kids, there's as much new wave synthesizers on his records as there is guitars. Yet, that voice is amazing. All raw, leathery and booming, he's like a male Joan Jett minus the credibility. And who doesn't turn it up when Billy sings "In the midnight hour/she cried more, more, more?" I would also say that he has the highest percentage of songs about fucking than just about anyone else.
Quintessential Cut: Rebel Yell http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ToeY7MkCm0c
9) Carly Simon- High grade cheez. Her voice is as annoying as it is distinctive. Her music as cloying as it is particular. She was even married to James Taylor, who I hate with a red-eyed passion. However, somehow this elevator music siren gets a pass from me.
Quintessential Cut: You're So Vain http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0EsLCPsF4&feature=related
8) Duran Duran- On the face of it, they are everything I'm against. They are slaves to style and fashion. Most of they're songs make no sense (The Reflex anyone?), and without the explosion of MTV and music video they would have disappeared faster than you can say Gary Glitter. However, they produced about 15-20 genuinely catching songs about God only knows what, and I like every damn one of them.
Quintessential Cut: Hungry Like The Wolf http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NC0EsLCPsF4&feature=related
7) Frankie Goes To Hollywood- Other than the lead singer this wasn't even a real band. The other four guys on the cover of their debut album Welcome To The Pleasure Dome are said to not have even played on the album. This of course means that the only thing that separated them from Milli Vanilli was Holly Johnson's vocals. The very definition of producer puppets, these guys burst out of England with what has to be the dirtiest song to ever hit the Top 10 (Relax don't do it/when you wanna cum). That hit turned up in Brian DePalma's 80's grindhouse flick Body Double. In fact Johnson comes through the door while Relax booms over the soundtrack as lead actor Craig Wasson is about to give Melanie Griffith's porn star character (the wonderfully named Holly Body) the business. Which of course proves that Mr. DePalma knew exactly what the song was about, and how to best use it. Unfortunately, I approve.
Quintessential Cut: Relax (Body Double version) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u2TLAxTY9Xs
6) The Goo Goo Dolls- I should really hate them. And I do mean really. The lead singer and creative force (such that it is) of the band, Johnny Rzeznik basically has been dumbing down and rewriting Paul Westerberg songs, while also imitating the style of The Replacements minus any rough edges or originality. Even worse, they have been far more successful than the band (who I LOVE) they so wantonly imitate. But I can't find one damn song by them that I can't hum along to. Sheesh.
Quintessential Cut: Iris http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FpO9MSEWpxc
5) John Waite/The Babys/Bad English- Before John Waite went to number one with his pop-cheez classic Missing You, he was the lead singer of a British power pop band (The Babys) that couldn't get arrested in their own country (despite naming one of their albums Union Jacks!), yet somehow scored a trio of top 40 hits over here. After his solo career dried up, he essentially fronted Journey in the truly shitty band, Bad English lead by Mr. Don't Stop Believin' guitar hero Neal Schon himself. They scored two massive hits with the bloody awful When I See You Smile, and the nearly as bad Price Of Love. Their next album flopped and John Waite went back to his solo career and recently scored a hit on the country(!) charts with a remake of Missing You featuring Alison Krauss. I own all this crap. What can I say? The man's got pipes.
Quintessential Cut: Missing You http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wjAPQJWIz6Y
4) Howard Jones- You probably remember the near Flock Of Seagulls hairstyle better than you do his succession of synth pop hits. But Things Can Only Get Better, New Song, What Is Love, Human's Lib, and Like To Get To Know You Well were unmissable during the 80s. Eventually, the hits disappeared along with his hairline, but every one of these bandless, artless, simple simon tunes makes me smile. What are you gonna do?
Quintissential Cut: Things Can Only Get Better http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_lnVjSnS9EQ
3) Billy Squier- The man could sing like Robert Plant, minus the taste and relative class of course. He took that big voice and surrounded it with big dumb drums and big dumb guitars. His biggest hits The Stroke, Rock Me Tonite, and Everybody Wants You, have all the depth of a Michael Bay movie. In fact, how is it that none of these songs have ever made into one of Bay's abominations? Surely Armageddon would have been improved by My Kinda Lover during Ben Affleck and Liv Tyler's animal cracker scene. The last thing I ever heard about Squier was that he was making a concept album based on Dante's Inferno. Pray your Gods that never comes to light.
Quintessential Cut: The Stroke http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bLHc-yIAPbg
2) Kenny Loggins- Sure, I like all those tunes from all those crappy 80s movies back when Kenny was the king of the soundtrack single (and what a thing to be). But what I really like is the early Loggins (you know when he was cool-ha!). Soft rock "classics" like Heart To Heart, This Is It, and Whenever I Call You Friend were always welcome when my mom took me with her to the Suds-Yer-Duds laundromat in Niles when I was a boy in the seventies. Just thinking about one of those songs brings the comforting fragrance of laundry detergent back to the forefront of my mind. Ah, those were the days.
Quintessential Cut: Footloose http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RdSWXRZu7OM
1) Rick Springfield- The mother (father?) of all guilty pleasures. To my great and everlasting embarrassment, I can't think of a single Springfield tune I don't like. The Aussie singer had a top 20 hit in 1972 with a song that to the best of my knowledge no one has ever heard called Speak To the Sky. He then was lost from view until he took the job of playing Noah on General Hospital. That's right, his big break was acting in a soap opera. With his new found visibility, Springfield relaunched his pop career and became the object of desire for stay-at-home mom's everywhere. And once he got started, he couldn't be stopped. The hits began with I've Done Everything For You in 1981, peaked with the power chord monster hit Jessie's Girl the same year and ended with the top 30 hit Rock Of Life in 1988. In all, Springfield hit the top 10 5 times in the 80s and the top 40 15 times. Oh, it was Ricky's world and we were just livin' in it. Yeah, I know this should be terribly embarrassing (and to a degree, it is), but I'll never forget sitting in a movie theater, watching Paul Thomas Anderson's classic film about 70s porn, Boogie Nights and hearing Jessie's Girl blaring from the speakers during Dirk Diggler's (Mark Wahlberg) hapless attempt to sell drugs to a whacked out Alfred Molina. That's called affirmation, homeslice.
Quintessential Cut: Jessie's Girl http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=adaYUM5wl7c
Alright, that's the list. I've shown you mine, now you show me yours. I'm sure there's some Styx and Journey fans (God help you) out there somewhere.
Sum-Pop
January 17, 2010
Saturday, January 9, 2010
I'm In Love, What's That Song?
"If you wanted to buy the new Sam Cooke album, where would you go?"---Prince, from Under The Cherry Moon
When I was working my way through college in the early to mid 90's by running a record store, I would often think of how ironic it was to be busting my ass for my Bachelor's Degree when I was already doing what I wanted to do. Back then, I thought I would spend the rest of my life surrounded by dusty vinyl and racks of CDs. Ah, the dreams of youth.
I was the manager of Nightwind's Music and Video from 1991-1996, and despite low pay and no insurance benefits, it is still the best job I've ever had. Selling music is the thing I was meant to do. During those heady days, an independent record store was more than a place to buy records, it was a communal gateway to discovery. Nothing made me happier than a full house of customers rifling through our CD bins in search of that one song, that one album to take home with them and make their night. Few things satisfied me more than some wide-eyed customer coming up to me and saying, "I saw this video on MTV of this red-haired girl playing piano..." That gentleman had discovered Tori Amos, but he needed me to complete his rendezvous with his favorite new artist.
There is a great scene in the wonderful movie High Fidelity, when Rob, the owner of Championship Vinyl (played by my boy, John Cusack), turns to his two co-workers and says, "I will now sell the three EP's by the Beta Band." Cusack's Rob pops the CD in the player and watches all the customers in his store start to vibe on the sounds coming out of the speakers. Over the five years that I ran that store, I turned people on to Leonard Cohen, Chris Whitley, Ephraim Lewis, and so on, and so on. I helped to play a very small part in the breaking of Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and SoundGarden during the grunge revolution. Even better still, were the artists I discovered by working in a place that surrounded me with music. This is where I fell in love with the music of Lou Reed, The Tragically Hip, The Replacements, etc. Artists who have bettered my life and helped shape my world views. And the best thing about discovering these artists was sharing them with my customers and co-workers. In the grand scheme of things, my influence on others may have been quite small, but it certainly didn't feel that way when I put a CD by The Catherine Wheel in some grateful buyer's hands.
That's all over now, of course. Not only for me, but for just about everyone. In the Michiana area, there is only one independent record store (Orbit Music) that sells new music. There are only two independently owned sellers of used music that I know of (Michiana Media and BuyCo). During the heyday of the 90's, I can remember at least six.
There are many reasons for the death of the independent record store. While most people will point to downloading, itunes, and illegal file-sharing, the trouble started long before.
The golden period of music retail began in the late 80's and peaked in the year 2000. Since the turn of the century, CD sales have fallen by 45%. While technology has certainly fueled this decline, the mismanagement of the music industry by the record labels cannot be overstated.
When the CD was introduced to the marketplace in the early 80's, the labels promised that once the new media gained a foothold and reached mass production, that the price of the compact disc would go down. Well, they lied. Nearly year by year, the labels continually raised the list price of new CDs. By the end of the 90's, mega artists like Janet Jackson and Mariah Carey saw the list price of their new CDs start out at $19.99. This made it increasingly more difficult for indy stores to offer competitive sale prices. While big box retailers were able to buy directly from the labels and receive deep discounts due to the high volume of their purchases, indy stores would have to purchase their music from a one-stop, or wholesaler. The labels simply didn't see the value in selling directly to indy stores unless they were willing to purchase CDs in numbers so large that they would be typically unaffordable to a mom and pop store.
Now, the big box stores completely dominate the music retail market. Between Wal-Mart, Best Buy, and Target, they account for 2/3 of all record sales in the U.S. In fact, Wal-Mart is the largest music seller in the world. As these mass retailers started to penetrate the market in the mid to late 90's, the record labels began to put all their investment into these corporate monsters. They offered them the best prices, promotions, and advertising support to the complete detriment of the indy store. While this may have made a great deal of fiscal sense in the short term, the long term effects have been devastating to not only the indy stores, but to the record labels themselves.
For stores like Wal-Mart, Best Buy, and Target, music is a small portion of their sales. That's why you can seldom find someone to help you when you shop in their music departments, and if you do, you will probably end up feeling you were better off on your own. These stores often use music as loss-leaders, selling CDs below cost in the hope that the low price will increase foot traffic and lead to sales in electronics, housewares, and clothing where they enjoy better margins. This practice has been crippling to indy stores. If 90% of your income is based on music sales, then loss-leaders by big box stores completely remove your profit margins if you choose to price match, and drive customers away if you do not. Worse still, only a couple of years ago Wal-Mart started dictating to the labels the price that they would be willing to pay for CDs. Because the labels had abandoned the indy stores to the point of near extinction, they had no choice but to acquiesce.
As the indy stores began to fade away due to downloading, excessive competition from big boxes, and lack of record company support, the labels were left with no secondary market with which to sell their product. In many areas of the country, the only place to buy new music is your local Wal-Mart, Best Buy, or Target. If the labels lose any of these mass retailers, then they may as well fold up shop. And I'm hear to tell you, the clock is already ticking.
As I mentioned earlier, the impact of downloading and illegal file-sharing has had a great impact on brick and mortar stores. However, even this advance in technology was forwarded by the poor decisions of the record labels. I'm sure some of us can remember something called the CD single. The sales of singles--from 45's, to cassette singles, to CD5's--had a great positive impact on the overall health of the business. The production of low-priced singles brought young people into the fold. Since young folks typically have less buying power, the sales of singles were an affordable entry point for the youth market. As anyone can tell you, buying music is a habit. And by creating this habit at a low cost to the buyer, it would typically lead to the purchase of full length albums as these youngsters grew into adulthood, got jobs and earned a disposable income. However, the labels began to slowly eliminate the production of singles, believing that by forcing people to buy the whole album to get one song would increase their profit margins. Once again, in the short run this worked, but in the long run they lost the kids and, therefore, the future.
Now, I'm not naive, the creation of Napster and itunes would have made a massive impact on the way people purchase music regardless of the mistakes of the record labels. But, by making music so expensive, they created a vacuum that cheaper, digital music was only to happy to fill. And make no mistake, it is a cheaper form of music. I'm not just referring to price, but to quality and value. While selling songs for .99 cents (or stealing music through illegal file sharing) certainly has made music more affordable, it's also made it more disposable. It has completely removed artistic design from the selling of music, as there is no record sleeve or album cover to hold in your hands. You no longer have lyric sheets or liner notes to pore over and learn more about the artist. This method of buying music is an entirely impersonal experience. Now, new music buyers have fewer reasons than ever to connect with the artist whose music they have purchased.
It's also worth noting the lack of sound quality in these MP3's. Maybe to most, this degradation of quality is imperceptible, but make no mistake, you are listening to a thinner, tinnier, more compressed sound recording than the original source. In effect, what you are listening to is a copy of a copy of a copy. As Bob Dylan once said about the quality of MP3's and the cheap price of music, "You might as well give it away, it isn't worth anything anyway."
Of course, digital music was always an inevitability, but even here, the labels managed to blow it. They were deeply resistant to the unstoppable change that was to come. They fought it tooth and nail through the court system, and continued to cling to the system they had corrupted. By the time they got on board, millions (if not billions) of dollars were lost.
Now that digital sales have continued to increase--leading to the massive decline in the sales of physical discs--the labels are confronted with a new problem. These big box retailers--who they have so relied upon to the detriment of the indy store--have decreased their shelf space for music by 20% over the last two years. After bending over backwards to meet the demands of these corporate giants, the labels are being squeezed out by the last music sellers left. Leaving them with nothing but a desperate grip on a dying industry. When--not if--the big box retailers eliminate their footprint for music product, where will the labels go? Their best margins are still made through the sales of physical discs, and their overhead is far too large to be supported by a purely digital market, and there are hardly any indy stores to come crawling back to. Unfortunately, they have nearly--if not entirely--destroyed their market through bad business practices. Hell, even big name artists are beginning to jump ship and either create or join an independent label.
The last CDs by Prince and Pearl Jam were both independently released. Even the artists can smell what's cooking, and they've decided they'd rather like to make the stew on their own. Some are selling music from their web sites and at their concerts. Others, like Prince and Pearl Jam--as well as KISS, Garth Brooks, and The Eagles--have entered into exclusive arrangements with Target or Wal-Mart. By doing so, they have performed a nimble end around on the labels, but also on the few remaining indy stores as well. Not that I can totally blame them, they are simply reacting to the business the labels and mass retailers have left them with.
I suppose this whole column is just a rant by a dinosaur (I still buy CDs!) who longs for the good ol' days when things were simpler. Maybe I have become that guy ("These kids today and their music"). Although, I will say that things aren't completely hopeless for someone like me. There will probably always be a collector's market. Used stores, Ebay, and web retailers will most likely be selling music for a long time, and the surprising increase in vinyl sales over the last few years at least points to a specialized market that could last for many years to come. But yes, I do miss the days when someone would walk into my store and say "I heard this song, do you know who it's by?" And more than anything, I will miss the opportunity to reply, because I was born to do this, but I can't, not anymore.
Sumo-Pop
January 8, 2010
When I was working my way through college in the early to mid 90's by running a record store, I would often think of how ironic it was to be busting my ass for my Bachelor's Degree when I was already doing what I wanted to do. Back then, I thought I would spend the rest of my life surrounded by dusty vinyl and racks of CDs. Ah, the dreams of youth.
I was the manager of Nightwind's Music and Video from 1991-1996, and despite low pay and no insurance benefits, it is still the best job I've ever had. Selling music is the thing I was meant to do. During those heady days, an independent record store was more than a place to buy records, it was a communal gateway to discovery. Nothing made me happier than a full house of customers rifling through our CD bins in search of that one song, that one album to take home with them and make their night. Few things satisfied me more than some wide-eyed customer coming up to me and saying, "I saw this video on MTV of this red-haired girl playing piano..." That gentleman had discovered Tori Amos, but he needed me to complete his rendezvous with his favorite new artist.
There is a great scene in the wonderful movie High Fidelity, when Rob, the owner of Championship Vinyl (played by my boy, John Cusack), turns to his two co-workers and says, "I will now sell the three EP's by the Beta Band." Cusack's Rob pops the CD in the player and watches all the customers in his store start to vibe on the sounds coming out of the speakers. Over the five years that I ran that store, I turned people on to Leonard Cohen, Chris Whitley, Ephraim Lewis, and so on, and so on. I helped to play a very small part in the breaking of Pearl Jam, Nirvana, and SoundGarden during the grunge revolution. Even better still, were the artists I discovered by working in a place that surrounded me with music. This is where I fell in love with the music of Lou Reed, The Tragically Hip, The Replacements, etc. Artists who have bettered my life and helped shape my world views. And the best thing about discovering these artists was sharing them with my customers and co-workers. In the grand scheme of things, my influence on others may have been quite small, but it certainly didn't feel that way when I put a CD by The Catherine Wheel in some grateful buyer's hands.
That's all over now, of course. Not only for me, but for just about everyone. In the Michiana area, there is only one independent record store (Orbit Music) that sells new music. There are only two independently owned sellers of used music that I know of (Michiana Media and BuyCo). During the heyday of the 90's, I can remember at least six.
There are many reasons for the death of the independent record store. While most people will point to downloading, itunes, and illegal file-sharing, the trouble started long before.
The golden period of music retail began in the late 80's and peaked in the year 2000. Since the turn of the century, CD sales have fallen by 45%. While technology has certainly fueled this decline, the mismanagement of the music industry by the record labels cannot be overstated.
When the CD was introduced to the marketplace in the early 80's, the labels promised that once the new media gained a foothold and reached mass production, that the price of the compact disc would go down. Well, they lied. Nearly year by year, the labels continually raised the list price of new CDs. By the end of the 90's, mega artists like Janet Jackson and Mariah Carey saw the list price of their new CDs start out at $19.99. This made it increasingly more difficult for indy stores to offer competitive sale prices. While big box retailers were able to buy directly from the labels and receive deep discounts due to the high volume of their purchases, indy stores would have to purchase their music from a one-stop, or wholesaler. The labels simply didn't see the value in selling directly to indy stores unless they were willing to purchase CDs in numbers so large that they would be typically unaffordable to a mom and pop store.
Now, the big box stores completely dominate the music retail market. Between Wal-Mart, Best Buy, and Target, they account for 2/3 of all record sales in the U.S. In fact, Wal-Mart is the largest music seller in the world. As these mass retailers started to penetrate the market in the mid to late 90's, the record labels began to put all their investment into these corporate monsters. They offered them the best prices, promotions, and advertising support to the complete detriment of the indy store. While this may have made a great deal of fiscal sense in the short term, the long term effects have been devastating to not only the indy stores, but to the record labels themselves.
For stores like Wal-Mart, Best Buy, and Target, music is a small portion of their sales. That's why you can seldom find someone to help you when you shop in their music departments, and if you do, you will probably end up feeling you were better off on your own. These stores often use music as loss-leaders, selling CDs below cost in the hope that the low price will increase foot traffic and lead to sales in electronics, housewares, and clothing where they enjoy better margins. This practice has been crippling to indy stores. If 90% of your income is based on music sales, then loss-leaders by big box stores completely remove your profit margins if you choose to price match, and drive customers away if you do not. Worse still, only a couple of years ago Wal-Mart started dictating to the labels the price that they would be willing to pay for CDs. Because the labels had abandoned the indy stores to the point of near extinction, they had no choice but to acquiesce.
As the indy stores began to fade away due to downloading, excessive competition from big boxes, and lack of record company support, the labels were left with no secondary market with which to sell their product. In many areas of the country, the only place to buy new music is your local Wal-Mart, Best Buy, or Target. If the labels lose any of these mass retailers, then they may as well fold up shop. And I'm hear to tell you, the clock is already ticking.
As I mentioned earlier, the impact of downloading and illegal file-sharing has had a great impact on brick and mortar stores. However, even this advance in technology was forwarded by the poor decisions of the record labels. I'm sure some of us can remember something called the CD single. The sales of singles--from 45's, to cassette singles, to CD5's--had a great positive impact on the overall health of the business. The production of low-priced singles brought young people into the fold. Since young folks typically have less buying power, the sales of singles were an affordable entry point for the youth market. As anyone can tell you, buying music is a habit. And by creating this habit at a low cost to the buyer, it would typically lead to the purchase of full length albums as these youngsters grew into adulthood, got jobs and earned a disposable income. However, the labels began to slowly eliminate the production of singles, believing that by forcing people to buy the whole album to get one song would increase their profit margins. Once again, in the short run this worked, but in the long run they lost the kids and, therefore, the future.
Now, I'm not naive, the creation of Napster and itunes would have made a massive impact on the way people purchase music regardless of the mistakes of the record labels. But, by making music so expensive, they created a vacuum that cheaper, digital music was only to happy to fill. And make no mistake, it is a cheaper form of music. I'm not just referring to price, but to quality and value. While selling songs for .99 cents (or stealing music through illegal file sharing) certainly has made music more affordable, it's also made it more disposable. It has completely removed artistic design from the selling of music, as there is no record sleeve or album cover to hold in your hands. You no longer have lyric sheets or liner notes to pore over and learn more about the artist. This method of buying music is an entirely impersonal experience. Now, new music buyers have fewer reasons than ever to connect with the artist whose music they have purchased.
It's also worth noting the lack of sound quality in these MP3's. Maybe to most, this degradation of quality is imperceptible, but make no mistake, you are listening to a thinner, tinnier, more compressed sound recording than the original source. In effect, what you are listening to is a copy of a copy of a copy. As Bob Dylan once said about the quality of MP3's and the cheap price of music, "You might as well give it away, it isn't worth anything anyway."
Of course, digital music was always an inevitability, but even here, the labels managed to blow it. They were deeply resistant to the unstoppable change that was to come. They fought it tooth and nail through the court system, and continued to cling to the system they had corrupted. By the time they got on board, millions (if not billions) of dollars were lost.
Now that digital sales have continued to increase--leading to the massive decline in the sales of physical discs--the labels are confronted with a new problem. These big box retailers--who they have so relied upon to the detriment of the indy store--have decreased their shelf space for music by 20% over the last two years. After bending over backwards to meet the demands of these corporate giants, the labels are being squeezed out by the last music sellers left. Leaving them with nothing but a desperate grip on a dying industry. When--not if--the big box retailers eliminate their footprint for music product, where will the labels go? Their best margins are still made through the sales of physical discs, and their overhead is far too large to be supported by a purely digital market, and there are hardly any indy stores to come crawling back to. Unfortunately, they have nearly--if not entirely--destroyed their market through bad business practices. Hell, even big name artists are beginning to jump ship and either create or join an independent label.
The last CDs by Prince and Pearl Jam were both independently released. Even the artists can smell what's cooking, and they've decided they'd rather like to make the stew on their own. Some are selling music from their web sites and at their concerts. Others, like Prince and Pearl Jam--as well as KISS, Garth Brooks, and The Eagles--have entered into exclusive arrangements with Target or Wal-Mart. By doing so, they have performed a nimble end around on the labels, but also on the few remaining indy stores as well. Not that I can totally blame them, they are simply reacting to the business the labels and mass retailers have left them with.
I suppose this whole column is just a rant by a dinosaur (I still buy CDs!) who longs for the good ol' days when things were simpler. Maybe I have become that guy ("These kids today and their music"). Although, I will say that things aren't completely hopeless for someone like me. There will probably always be a collector's market. Used stores, Ebay, and web retailers will most likely be selling music for a long time, and the surprising increase in vinyl sales over the last few years at least points to a specialized market that could last for many years to come. But yes, I do miss the days when someone would walk into my store and say "I heard this song, do you know who it's by?" And more than anything, I will miss the opportunity to reply, because I was born to do this, but I can't, not anymore.
Sumo-Pop
January 8, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Are You @#%&ing Kidding Me?!?!?! (and some other thoughts on today's MLB Hall Of Fame vote)
Here are the results of today's Major League Baseball Hall Of Fame vote (75% required for induction):
Andre Dawson
RF/CF 1976-1996 77.9%
Bert Blyleven
SP 1970-1992 74.2%
Roberto Alomar
2B 1988-2004 73.7%
Jack Morris
SP 1977-1994 52.3%
Barry Larkin
SS 1986-2004 51.6%
Lee Smith
RP 1980-1997 47.3%
Edgar Martinez
DH/INF 1987-2004 36.2%
Tim Raines
LF 1979-2002 30.4%
Mark McGwire
1B 1986-2001 23.7%
Alan Trammell
SS 1977-1996 22.4%
Fred McGriff
1B 1986-2004 21.5%
Don Mattingly
1B 1982-1995 16.1%
Dave Parker
OF/1B 1973-1991 15.2%
Dale Murphy
OF 1976-1993 11.7%
Harold Baines
DH/RF 1980-2001 6.1%
Andres Galarraga
1B 1985-2004 4.1%
Robin Ventura
1B 1989-2004 1.3%
Ellis Burks
DH/OF 1987-2004 0.4%
Eric Karros
1B 1991-20040.4%
Kevin Appier
SP 1989-2004 0.2%
Pat Hentgen
SP 1991-2004 0.2%
David Segui
1B 1990-2004 0.2%
Mike Jackson
RP 1986-2004 0%
Ray Lankford
LF 1990-2004 0%
Shane Reynolds
SP 1992-2004 0%
Todd Zeile
C 1989-2004 0%
So, first things first: I am absolutely overjoyed for Andre Dawson! This was the Hawk's 9th year on the ballot and finally these ass clowns did the right thing and put Dawson in. Why he had to wait nine years is a complete mystery to me. He won an MVP, finished second in MVP voting twice, won 8 gold gloves and is one of 3(!) players ever to hit 400 home runs and steal 300 bases. The other two? A couple of guys named Willie Mays and Barry Bonds. I'm not saying that Dawson was as good as either Bonds or Mays, but if you can tell a person by the company he keeps...
Now, onto the injustices:
The worst of which is clearly the lack of sufficient support for Roberto Alomar. Alomar is at worst the 2nd best second baseman since WWII. Only Joe Morgan is considered better and you can make a great argument in favor of Alomar if you compare the two. Alomar retired with a .300 batting average, 210 homers, 1134 RBI's, 2724 Hits, 1508 runs scored, 474 stolen bases, 10 Gold Gloves, and was clearly the best player on two World Series winners. So what in the world crack pipe were the 26.3% of sportswriters smoking when they left him off their ballot? In a word, the reason is spit. Because Roberto Alomar lost his mind once in an otherwise unblemished career, and spat on umpire John Hirschbeck after being called out, he was punished by the sportswriters. It's funny how well they remember this one (admittedly awful) moment but are apparently completely unaware that not only have Alomar and Hirschbeck made up, but that Alomar has contributed time and money to Hirschbeck's cancer fundraising organization that he set up in the name of his son who died of the disease. And really, even if Alomar hadn't done those things, so what?!?! How many of that 26.3% would like to be judged by the worst moment of their lives? Not many I'm betting. If I were Alomar, I'd be mad enough to spit today too. Alomar didn't cheat, didn't kill, or maim anybody. Case closed.
While Bert Blyleven fell short once again in his 13th year on the ballot, he did get some good news. No one that has ever gotten as high a percentage (74.2) of the vote as Blyleven has ever not been voted in. Blyleven is 5th all time in strike outs and an astounding 9th all time in shutouts. Did you know that Blyleven has more career shut outs than Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux combined? I'm not saying he's as good as those two, but once again, the company you keep...
I was glad to see Jack Morris' percentage come up by 8.3%. It gives me hope that this pitcher who defined the term "horse," might actually get in some day. Morris was the most winningest pitcher of the 80's and the absolute best "big game" hurler of his era. I know the voters like to hold his 3.90 ERA against him, but I know that over a (roughly) 12 year period, if you were to pick one guy to throw one game for you, you would pick Morris. And that should be enough.
My personal favorite on the ballot this year was former Red's shortstop Barry Larkin. While Larkin didn't get very close to the needed percentage, he did start out with a higher vote total than a lot of former players who were eventually inducted (including Dawson, Sandberg, and Rice). I did some research on the shortstops already in the Hall Of Fame and found that only six of those inductees had a quality argument for being superior to Larkin. If I'm right (and I am), then how in the world does the seventh best shortstop of all time not get in on the first ballot? I think one of the main reasons is that some voters believe that not all hall of famers are worthy of first ballot induction. So, while on one hand this is comforting---I'm sure that Alomar and Blyleven will get in next year, and Larkin eventually---it is also maddening. It's not like Alomar or Larkin are going to hit any more home runs or Blyleven is going to strike out any more batters between this year and next. To me, either you're a Hall of Famer or you not. Now, I do agree that as time passes, a player who was once short on votes can begin to look better with age. I think for example, players who are thought to be clean of performance enhancing drugs will grow in stature over the next several years. Which brings me to Tim Raines, Fred McGriff, and Alan Trammell.
Raines is unquestionably the second best lead-off hitter of his era after Rickey Henderson. I think as voters spend more time poring over his numbers, his vote total will continue to increase (he was up 7.8% this year). I think Fred McGriff's 493 homers during the steroid era (without a whiff of controversy), will continue to look better and better. I do however, worry for Alan Trammell. This was Trammell's ninth year on the ballot, and while he did increase his vote number by 5%, he still sits at only 22.4% after nearly a decade on the ballot. Remember when I said that Larkin was at worst the 7th best shortstop ever? Well than Trammell is at worst the 8th. If you compare Trammell to Larkin, you can barely slide a thin sheet of paper between them. Larkin was clearly a better base stealer, but in nearly every other category, the differences between the two are negligible. Whether it's hits, runs, homers, RBI, batting average, gold gloves, etc., they are nearly the same player. I was sincerely hoping that if Larkin got in this year, it would improve Trammell's chances down the road. My last point about Larkin-Trammell is this: If Hall Of Fame shortstop Ozzie Smith were in his prime, would either the Tigers or the Reds have traded their guy straight up for the "Wizard?" Not in a million years. And I mean this as no offense to Ozzie, who certainly belongs in the Hall as the greatest fielding shortstop of all time, but you get the point.
Now, I have to get to my truly hopeless cause, the candidacy of Dave Parker. He and Trammell are clearly the two most underrated players on the ballot. Parker was an MVP and finished second once and third twice in MVP voting in other years, he won two batting titles, three Gold Gloves, led the league in slugging twice, hits and RBI once, won a World Series with the Pirates, made it to seven all-star games, and drove in 1493 runs over his stellar career, and only garnered the support of 15.2% of voters. The Cobra has almost no chance, and it's a damn shame.
The worst news for guys like Morris, Raines, Trammell, and Parker can be summed up by one year, 2013. In 2013 there will be no less than six potential Hall of Famers added to the ballot. Bonds, Clemens, Piazza, Sosa, Schilling and Biggio all hit the roll in 2013. Even worse, 2014 will add Maddux, Frank Thomas, Glavine, Jeff Kent, and Mike Mussina. See what might happen here? Voters are only allowed to put ten names on their ballot and if some of these guys on the current ballot don't get in before 2013, they will either have a long wait (veterans committee), or no chance at all.
Now, you may feel that my referring to the sportswriters who didn't vote for Alomar as crack smokers, to be overly harsh. But let me make you aware of the biggest travesty of all: Not who they didn't vote for, but for who some of them did. At least two of these massive tools looked at the careers of Ellis Burks and Eric Karros and said (probably not out loud), that these two good (but certainly not great) players had Hall Of Fame mojo. And if that isn't bad enough, at least one of them thought the same of Kevin Appier, Pat Hentgen, and David Segui. That's right, David fucking Segui got a vote for the Hall Of Fame. A solid professional hitter with nowhere near elite numbers and an admitted steroid user, got a vote. Are you fucking kidding me?!
There is one solution for this, make all of the sportswriter's votes public. Can you imagine someone having to defend their ballot if it included the name David Segui? Getting spat on might be the least of their concerns.
Sumo-Pop
January 6, 2009
Andre Dawson
RF/CF 1976-1996 77.9%
Bert Blyleven
SP 1970-1992 74.2%
Roberto Alomar
2B 1988-2004 73.7%
Jack Morris
SP 1977-1994 52.3%
Barry Larkin
SS 1986-2004 51.6%
Lee Smith
RP 1980-1997 47.3%
Edgar Martinez
DH/INF 1987-2004 36.2%
Tim Raines
LF 1979-2002 30.4%
Mark McGwire
1B 1986-2001 23.7%
Alan Trammell
SS 1977-1996 22.4%
Fred McGriff
1B 1986-2004 21.5%
Don Mattingly
1B 1982-1995 16.1%
Dave Parker
OF/1B 1973-1991 15.2%
Dale Murphy
OF 1976-1993 11.7%
Harold Baines
DH/RF 1980-2001 6.1%
Andres Galarraga
1B 1985-2004 4.1%
Robin Ventura
1B 1989-2004 1.3%
Ellis Burks
DH/OF 1987-2004 0.4%
Eric Karros
1B 1991-20040.4%
Kevin Appier
SP 1989-2004 0.2%
Pat Hentgen
SP 1991-2004 0.2%
David Segui
1B 1990-2004 0.2%
Mike Jackson
RP 1986-2004 0%
Ray Lankford
LF 1990-2004 0%
Shane Reynolds
SP 1992-2004 0%
Todd Zeile
C 1989-2004 0%
So, first things first: I am absolutely overjoyed for Andre Dawson! This was the Hawk's 9th year on the ballot and finally these ass clowns did the right thing and put Dawson in. Why he had to wait nine years is a complete mystery to me. He won an MVP, finished second in MVP voting twice, won 8 gold gloves and is one of 3(!) players ever to hit 400 home runs and steal 300 bases. The other two? A couple of guys named Willie Mays and Barry Bonds. I'm not saying that Dawson was as good as either Bonds or Mays, but if you can tell a person by the company he keeps...
Now, onto the injustices:
The worst of which is clearly the lack of sufficient support for Roberto Alomar. Alomar is at worst the 2nd best second baseman since WWII. Only Joe Morgan is considered better and you can make a great argument in favor of Alomar if you compare the two. Alomar retired with a .300 batting average, 210 homers, 1134 RBI's, 2724 Hits, 1508 runs scored, 474 stolen bases, 10 Gold Gloves, and was clearly the best player on two World Series winners. So what in the world crack pipe were the 26.3% of sportswriters smoking when they left him off their ballot? In a word, the reason is spit. Because Roberto Alomar lost his mind once in an otherwise unblemished career, and spat on umpire John Hirschbeck after being called out, he was punished by the sportswriters. It's funny how well they remember this one (admittedly awful) moment but are apparently completely unaware that not only have Alomar and Hirschbeck made up, but that Alomar has contributed time and money to Hirschbeck's cancer fundraising organization that he set up in the name of his son who died of the disease. And really, even if Alomar hadn't done those things, so what?!?! How many of that 26.3% would like to be judged by the worst moment of their lives? Not many I'm betting. If I were Alomar, I'd be mad enough to spit today too. Alomar didn't cheat, didn't kill, or maim anybody. Case closed.
While Bert Blyleven fell short once again in his 13th year on the ballot, he did get some good news. No one that has ever gotten as high a percentage (74.2) of the vote as Blyleven has ever not been voted in. Blyleven is 5th all time in strike outs and an astounding 9th all time in shutouts. Did you know that Blyleven has more career shut outs than Tom Glavine and Greg Maddux combined? I'm not saying he's as good as those two, but once again, the company you keep...
I was glad to see Jack Morris' percentage come up by 8.3%. It gives me hope that this pitcher who defined the term "horse," might actually get in some day. Morris was the most winningest pitcher of the 80's and the absolute best "big game" hurler of his era. I know the voters like to hold his 3.90 ERA against him, but I know that over a (roughly) 12 year period, if you were to pick one guy to throw one game for you, you would pick Morris. And that should be enough.
My personal favorite on the ballot this year was former Red's shortstop Barry Larkin. While Larkin didn't get very close to the needed percentage, he did start out with a higher vote total than a lot of former players who were eventually inducted (including Dawson, Sandberg, and Rice). I did some research on the shortstops already in the Hall Of Fame and found that only six of those inductees had a quality argument for being superior to Larkin. If I'm right (and I am), then how in the world does the seventh best shortstop of all time not get in on the first ballot? I think one of the main reasons is that some voters believe that not all hall of famers are worthy of first ballot induction. So, while on one hand this is comforting---I'm sure that Alomar and Blyleven will get in next year, and Larkin eventually---it is also maddening. It's not like Alomar or Larkin are going to hit any more home runs or Blyleven is going to strike out any more batters between this year and next. To me, either you're a Hall of Famer or you not. Now, I do agree that as time passes, a player who was once short on votes can begin to look better with age. I think for example, players who are thought to be clean of performance enhancing drugs will grow in stature over the next several years. Which brings me to Tim Raines, Fred McGriff, and Alan Trammell.
Raines is unquestionably the second best lead-off hitter of his era after Rickey Henderson. I think as voters spend more time poring over his numbers, his vote total will continue to increase (he was up 7.8% this year). I think Fred McGriff's 493 homers during the steroid era (without a whiff of controversy), will continue to look better and better. I do however, worry for Alan Trammell. This was Trammell's ninth year on the ballot, and while he did increase his vote number by 5%, he still sits at only 22.4% after nearly a decade on the ballot. Remember when I said that Larkin was at worst the 7th best shortstop ever? Well than Trammell is at worst the 8th. If you compare Trammell to Larkin, you can barely slide a thin sheet of paper between them. Larkin was clearly a better base stealer, but in nearly every other category, the differences between the two are negligible. Whether it's hits, runs, homers, RBI, batting average, gold gloves, etc., they are nearly the same player. I was sincerely hoping that if Larkin got in this year, it would improve Trammell's chances down the road. My last point about Larkin-Trammell is this: If Hall Of Fame shortstop Ozzie Smith were in his prime, would either the Tigers or the Reds have traded their guy straight up for the "Wizard?" Not in a million years. And I mean this as no offense to Ozzie, who certainly belongs in the Hall as the greatest fielding shortstop of all time, but you get the point.
Now, I have to get to my truly hopeless cause, the candidacy of Dave Parker. He and Trammell are clearly the two most underrated players on the ballot. Parker was an MVP and finished second once and third twice in MVP voting in other years, he won two batting titles, three Gold Gloves, led the league in slugging twice, hits and RBI once, won a World Series with the Pirates, made it to seven all-star games, and drove in 1493 runs over his stellar career, and only garnered the support of 15.2% of voters. The Cobra has almost no chance, and it's a damn shame.
The worst news for guys like Morris, Raines, Trammell, and Parker can be summed up by one year, 2013. In 2013 there will be no less than six potential Hall of Famers added to the ballot. Bonds, Clemens, Piazza, Sosa, Schilling and Biggio all hit the roll in 2013. Even worse, 2014 will add Maddux, Frank Thomas, Glavine, Jeff Kent, and Mike Mussina. See what might happen here? Voters are only allowed to put ten names on their ballot and if some of these guys on the current ballot don't get in before 2013, they will either have a long wait (veterans committee), or no chance at all.
Now, you may feel that my referring to the sportswriters who didn't vote for Alomar as crack smokers, to be overly harsh. But let me make you aware of the biggest travesty of all: Not who they didn't vote for, but for who some of them did. At least two of these massive tools looked at the careers of Ellis Burks and Eric Karros and said (probably not out loud), that these two good (but certainly not great) players had Hall Of Fame mojo. And if that isn't bad enough, at least one of them thought the same of Kevin Appier, Pat Hentgen, and David Segui. That's right, David fucking Segui got a vote for the Hall Of Fame. A solid professional hitter with nowhere near elite numbers and an admitted steroid user, got a vote. Are you fucking kidding me?!
There is one solution for this, make all of the sportswriter's votes public. Can you imagine someone having to defend their ballot if it included the name David Segui? Getting spat on might be the least of their concerns.
Sumo-Pop
January 6, 2009
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Purple Rain
Without soul, Prince would be just a great song and dance man. which he is, but he's much more than that.---Bono at the 1988 Grammys accepting Album of the Year for The Joshua Tree.
During the summer of 1984, I was a 13 year old kid who didn't pay a lot of attention to music. Like most people, I liked music, but only as entertainment. To me, it was something to be enjoyed but not deeply felt. Then, in August of 1984, I went to see Purple Rain at the Ready Theater in Niles, Michigan. I would never feel the same way again.
I was certainly aware of Prince prior to Purple Rain. I thought 1999 and Little Red Corvette were "fun" songs. So, as I walked up to the ticket taker who asked me if my parents knew I was going to an 'R' rated movie ("Yes." I lied.), I was only expecting to have a good time. I had no idea that I would exit the theater forever changed. That was the night I discovered art.
For those who have not seen it (Philistines), Purple Rain tells the story of an up and coming Minneapolis musician struggling with family issues while trying to make it big. Viewed now---through the prism of hindsight---it's easy to see the flaws in the film. The screenplay is rudimentary, the style and direction dated, the acting of the female lead (Appolonia Kotero) is amateurish, and the whole enterprise is casually misogynistic. However, everything that was great about it at the time, is still just so. Mostly, I'm referring to the music, of course.
I can still recall the first time I heard the lead single from the Purple Rain soundtrack, When Doves Cry on the radio. It was a few weeks prior to the release of the album and film, when my mother was taking me to a friend's house to hang out. Then, out of the speakers like a shot, came this grinding guitar noise with a man's distorted groaning over the top of it, followed by a tense drum machine and "Dig if you will the picture..." My first thought was "what the hell is this." I wasn't even sure that I liked it, but I was certain that I had never heard anything like it before (or since for that matter). And if you would have asked me what it sounded like, I would have probably replied, "The Future."
I am still convinced to this day that it's the greatest song I have ever heard. It has everything, rockin' guitars, great lyrics, a commanding vocal, a spellbinding beat, and so on, and so on. But, what makes it truly special to me, is that it sounds like the whole world in 5 minutes and 52 seconds. It is intensely personal and poetic:
How can you just leave me standing alone in a world that's so cold?
Maybe I'm just too demanding
maybe I'm just like my father too bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
she's never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like when doves cry
While it's rarely the case, sometimes your biggest hit is indeed your best song. So it is with Prince and When Doves Cry.
So, I was well primed for the movie on that warm August night. But I was completely unprepared for the level of talent and artistry that I was about to witness. I have no idea whether Prince would have become a great actor or not had he put more time into it. I do know that as a screen presence, he was magnetic. Elfin, cat-like, and strikingly, well, striking, I had never seen anything like him before. And oh, the performance scenes! Dancing like James Brown, playing guitar like Carlos Santana, and singing with that 3 octave voice, he was more like an alien than a person of this Earth. His music made some nods to the past (Sly and the Family Stone in particular), yet sounded wholly original. And I wasn't the only one who noticed. At the end of the movie when Prince takes the stage and performs Purple Rain, the theater crowd was waving their hands in the air and singing alone. He had transformed that movie house into some sort of communal experience. It was staggering.
For an album with such a lofty reputation, it's hard to believe that there are only nine songs on the soundtrack, but every one of them is a gem and several are out and out classics. Other than Doves, there is the great guitar showcase, Let's Go Crazy, the soaring title track, the shimmering I Would Die 4U, and the pure pop tune, Take Me With U. All were hits with Doves and Crazy going all the way to number one and Purple Rain and I Would Die 4U cracking the top 5. Hell, even the deep tracks were memorable. The ecstatic Baby I'm A Star, the lush The Beautiful Ones, the freaky Computer Blue, and the really freaky Darling Nikki, are all standouts in their own right. For that summer and the next several months that followed, it was Prince's world and we just lucky enough to be living in it.
However, it wasn't just his talent, tunes, or appearance that made Purple Rain Prince's magnum opus, his genius move. No, it was the thing I saw in his eyes that I didn't quite understand while I was watching the movie that first time. It was hunger. A hunger to be more than just great, but to be legendary. With Purple Rain, Prince became exactly that, legendary.
As I said before, I wasn't the same after leaving the theater. After that fateful night, I skipped lunches at school so I could save money to buy the rest of his albums on cassette (yeah, I'm old). I plastered my room with Prince posters (which didn't help me with the ladies, not one bit), and every subsequent release date of a new Prince album became an occasion for mad partying in my little world. Some have criticized Prince for being too prolific, for releasing too many records and not leaving enough time between releases. I understand that criticism, but I can tell you that his decision to put out a new album every year is a big reason why I survived high school. Because, no matter how much I dreaded each new school year, I always knew I would have at least one thing to look forward to.
I've had the good fortune to see Prince in concert twice. the first time was in the old Rosemont Horizon in Chicago on his Lovesexy Tour. That night, when the house lights went down I was literally trembling with anticipation. Thinking about it now is kind of embarrassing, but that's what you do when you're young, isn't it? That show was great, but it was the second concert at Detroit's Fox Theatre on the Diamonds and Pearls Tour that was truly remarkable.
Of course, the performance was tremendous. Prince hopped from instrument to instrument, outplaying whatever member of his crack band that he took over for. But the real magic occurred when the show appeared to end. The house lights came up and slowly people began to file out of the auditorium. But I noticed that the roadies were really taking their time unplugging instruments and so forth, so I turned to my friend and suggested that we wait a minute before heading for the door. Then, one of the roadies turned to the crowd and made the "raise the roof" motion with his hands. So, instead of moving away from the stage, we began moving toward it, shouting and clapping as fanboys do. And then it happened--- he came back. At this time we had moved up over 30 rows and were only 8-10 feet away as his royal badness proceeded to electrify the crowd for another 30 plus minutes. About half through the encore, I turned for a moment and looked behind me at the balcony about 50 feet back and 70 feet up, and it was rocking up and down like we were hit with a 5.7 on the Richter Scale. The place felt like it was ready to lift off.
Now, I know in the years since, Prince's albums have been consistently inconsistent in quality. He really hasn't had an all out masterpiece since 1989's Sign O' The Times (although The Love Symbol album, The Gold Experience, and the massive 3-disc Emancipation come close). Far too often, his most recent releases have been too backward looking and retro to reach the heights of his 80's albums. But, I can forgive him for all of that and more. Because I can still remember that night leaving that run down movie theater, my head abuzz, alive to a whole new world and thinking that anything is possible. What more could I possibly ask for?
Sumo-Pop
January 2, 2010
During the summer of 1984, I was a 13 year old kid who didn't pay a lot of attention to music. Like most people, I liked music, but only as entertainment. To me, it was something to be enjoyed but not deeply felt. Then, in August of 1984, I went to see Purple Rain at the Ready Theater in Niles, Michigan. I would never feel the same way again.
I was certainly aware of Prince prior to Purple Rain. I thought 1999 and Little Red Corvette were "fun" songs. So, as I walked up to the ticket taker who asked me if my parents knew I was going to an 'R' rated movie ("Yes." I lied.), I was only expecting to have a good time. I had no idea that I would exit the theater forever changed. That was the night I discovered art.
For those who have not seen it (Philistines), Purple Rain tells the story of an up and coming Minneapolis musician struggling with family issues while trying to make it big. Viewed now---through the prism of hindsight---it's easy to see the flaws in the film. The screenplay is rudimentary, the style and direction dated, the acting of the female lead (Appolonia Kotero) is amateurish, and the whole enterprise is casually misogynistic. However, everything that was great about it at the time, is still just so. Mostly, I'm referring to the music, of course.
I can still recall the first time I heard the lead single from the Purple Rain soundtrack, When Doves Cry on the radio. It was a few weeks prior to the release of the album and film, when my mother was taking me to a friend's house to hang out. Then, out of the speakers like a shot, came this grinding guitar noise with a man's distorted groaning over the top of it, followed by a tense drum machine and "Dig if you will the picture..." My first thought was "what the hell is this." I wasn't even sure that I liked it, but I was certain that I had never heard anything like it before (or since for that matter). And if you would have asked me what it sounded like, I would have probably replied, "The Future."
I am still convinced to this day that it's the greatest song I have ever heard. It has everything, rockin' guitars, great lyrics, a commanding vocal, a spellbinding beat, and so on, and so on. But, what makes it truly special to me, is that it sounds like the whole world in 5 minutes and 52 seconds. It is intensely personal and poetic:
How can you just leave me standing alone in a world that's so cold?
Maybe I'm just too demanding
maybe I'm just like my father too bold
Maybe you're just like my mother
she's never satisfied
Why do we scream at each other?
This is what it sounds like when doves cry
While it's rarely the case, sometimes your biggest hit is indeed your best song. So it is with Prince and When Doves Cry.
So, I was well primed for the movie on that warm August night. But I was completely unprepared for the level of talent and artistry that I was about to witness. I have no idea whether Prince would have become a great actor or not had he put more time into it. I do know that as a screen presence, he was magnetic. Elfin, cat-like, and strikingly, well, striking, I had never seen anything like him before. And oh, the performance scenes! Dancing like James Brown, playing guitar like Carlos Santana, and singing with that 3 octave voice, he was more like an alien than a person of this Earth. His music made some nods to the past (Sly and the Family Stone in particular), yet sounded wholly original. And I wasn't the only one who noticed. At the end of the movie when Prince takes the stage and performs Purple Rain, the theater crowd was waving their hands in the air and singing alone. He had transformed that movie house into some sort of communal experience. It was staggering.
For an album with such a lofty reputation, it's hard to believe that there are only nine songs on the soundtrack, but every one of them is a gem and several are out and out classics. Other than Doves, there is the great guitar showcase, Let's Go Crazy, the soaring title track, the shimmering I Would Die 4U, and the pure pop tune, Take Me With U. All were hits with Doves and Crazy going all the way to number one and Purple Rain and I Would Die 4U cracking the top 5. Hell, even the deep tracks were memorable. The ecstatic Baby I'm A Star, the lush The Beautiful Ones, the freaky Computer Blue, and the really freaky Darling Nikki, are all standouts in their own right. For that summer and the next several months that followed, it was Prince's world and we just lucky enough to be living in it.
However, it wasn't just his talent, tunes, or appearance that made Purple Rain Prince's magnum opus, his genius move. No, it was the thing I saw in his eyes that I didn't quite understand while I was watching the movie that first time. It was hunger. A hunger to be more than just great, but to be legendary. With Purple Rain, Prince became exactly that, legendary.
As I said before, I wasn't the same after leaving the theater. After that fateful night, I skipped lunches at school so I could save money to buy the rest of his albums on cassette (yeah, I'm old). I plastered my room with Prince posters (which didn't help me with the ladies, not one bit), and every subsequent release date of a new Prince album became an occasion for mad partying in my little world. Some have criticized Prince for being too prolific, for releasing too many records and not leaving enough time between releases. I understand that criticism, but I can tell you that his decision to put out a new album every year is a big reason why I survived high school. Because, no matter how much I dreaded each new school year, I always knew I would have at least one thing to look forward to.
I've had the good fortune to see Prince in concert twice. the first time was in the old Rosemont Horizon in Chicago on his Lovesexy Tour. That night, when the house lights went down I was literally trembling with anticipation. Thinking about it now is kind of embarrassing, but that's what you do when you're young, isn't it? That show was great, but it was the second concert at Detroit's Fox Theatre on the Diamonds and Pearls Tour that was truly remarkable.
Of course, the performance was tremendous. Prince hopped from instrument to instrument, outplaying whatever member of his crack band that he took over for. But the real magic occurred when the show appeared to end. The house lights came up and slowly people began to file out of the auditorium. But I noticed that the roadies were really taking their time unplugging instruments and so forth, so I turned to my friend and suggested that we wait a minute before heading for the door. Then, one of the roadies turned to the crowd and made the "raise the roof" motion with his hands. So, instead of moving away from the stage, we began moving toward it, shouting and clapping as fanboys do. And then it happened--- he came back. At this time we had moved up over 30 rows and were only 8-10 feet away as his royal badness proceeded to electrify the crowd for another 30 plus minutes. About half through the encore, I turned for a moment and looked behind me at the balcony about 50 feet back and 70 feet up, and it was rocking up and down like we were hit with a 5.7 on the Richter Scale. The place felt like it was ready to lift off.
Now, I know in the years since, Prince's albums have been consistently inconsistent in quality. He really hasn't had an all out masterpiece since 1989's Sign O' The Times (although The Love Symbol album, The Gold Experience, and the massive 3-disc Emancipation come close). Far too often, his most recent releases have been too backward looking and retro to reach the heights of his 80's albums. But, I can forgive him for all of that and more. Because I can still remember that night leaving that run down movie theater, my head abuzz, alive to a whole new world and thinking that anything is possible. What more could I possibly ask for?
Sumo-Pop
January 2, 2010
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