Is Baseball Prime Real?

Baseball starts tomorrow, which is my favorite sport to argue. In every other sport, a casual fan will still fight with you over their team despite their shocking lack of knowledge. Not baseball. If you pick a baseball fight, majority of the time, your opponent will tell you baseball isn’t their thing. But if you start an argument with a real fan who knows their stuff? It’s gloves off every time. 

My latest such squabble was with my idiot Mets fan friend about “signing someone in their prime”. To which I countered, doesn’t exist. My buddy argued that despite his plethora of injuries, missing the whole  season last year, that Noah Syndergaard is about to have his best seasons because he’s “coming into his prime”. While I think he still has the chance to be good, I think the odds are that Noah’s 95 mph sliders caught up with his elbow. That his best baseball is behind him. 

But he wouldn’t hear it. All because he’s supposedly about to have some magical birthday. 

There was never a meeting or an announcement on prime ages but everyone has the same exact numbers in their head. I remember my older cousins explained it to me while playing MVP 05. During the early 2000s, the steroid era, prime was accepted as around 32-36. With more years and less PEDs that window has changed more to 28-32. I’d say most people would accept that as truth. Not me. 

Baseball is weird in that it’s really the only sport where you’re guaranteed to start out in a lower league after you’re drafted. NFL and NBA wouldn’t send their precious first round picks on bus rides with no A/C for a showdown between the Rumble Ponies and the Trash Pandas? Baseball does, which makes a prime age impossible. Each team is different in feeling out if a guy is ready for a call up. Mix in service time manipulation and you have a recipe for guys getting the call at all different ages. It’s not how old you are, but how much tread is on the tires.

Take Felix Hernandez for example. Feels like the guy has been around since I was a child. He’s only 34. From age 29-32 Felix’ ERAs were 3.53, 3.82, 4.36, and 5.55 respectively. From age 23-27? 2.49, 2.27, 3.47, 3.06, and 3.04.

Now, I’m not an idiot. I understand that Felix here could be an outlier and that one person doesn’t prove my point. But like, it does though and you know it does. Plus I’m not going to sit here and throw hundreds of ERAs at you.

So why have we all blindly accepted an MLB prime? Where did it come from? I’ll tell you, it was that slimy bastard Scott Boras who made it up. Yup. How else could he get washed up players to make hundreds of millions of dollars? Make up the prime, that’s how. 

This Late In The Game

I got covid. Got it bad. This is the first day my brain hasn’t felt like a marshmellow. I really thought I was going to be more productive during my quarantine. I was wrong. This thing has been whooping my ass. 

If you’re curious what it entails, I’ll explain my symptoms. Day 1 it just felt like allergies and I thought this thing was all bark no bite. Day 2 was the fever and chills. I was sweating like I ran a marathon but shivering for hours on end. Day 3 I lost my sense of taste and smell. Then yesterday, whatever day that was, I couldn’t keep anything down. Today, I’m starting to turn this franchise around. 

Symptom wise, losing my taste was the worst for me. I can’t even explain what it’s like to put something in your mouth and taste nothing. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy. If my taste doesn’t come back soon I’m going to do something drastic. Witchcraft, voodoo, black magic, I don’t care.

Worse than having it is giving it to someone. I was never cool enough to get an STD but I imagine it was pretty similar texting everyone I was in close proximity to that I had the virus. It’s a weird text. The person you’re texting has to be nice to you cause you have this deadly virus but is obviously very pissed that they have to get tested now. It’s not like I knew I had it? Luckily for all my friends, I didn’t give it to any of them. Unluckily for my saint of a mother, I did give it to her. 

It’s a virus that’s tough on my mentals. I’ve had to watch my mom in pain and that’s my fault. I’ve been separated from society, turned into a hermit. And probably toughest of all, my illness has been perfectly  timed up with a viral tweet that reads “imagine getting c*vid this late in the game lol L”. I mean, how do I come back from that? Every single piece of shit that I’ve considered a friend has sent me this tweet. 

This has been the hardest blog I’ve written. Not as in hard to share or anything weird like that, but cause I still have cobwebs on my brain. It’s not my best writing, I just had to write something. Let me serve as a reminder that just because things are getting back to normal doesn’t mean they are. Mask up and sanitize or have shit for brains like me at the moment. 

Why I Think Tok Tok Works

I’d say I have an embarrassing addiction to Tik Tok, but I don’t think something that everyone is addicted to can be all that embarrassing. I’ve been known to get that “Woah hold on! You’ve been scrolling for way too long!” warning every time I try to go to sleep.

But why is it so effective? No it’s not China brainwashing us. Well maybe. But what Tik Tok brings is an attainable five seconds of fame. Or one minute rather. 

The For You Page made it possible for anyone to go viral. On a platform like Twitter one of two things needs to happen. 1) The content creator has so many followers that all their fans like their Tweet it and off it goes. 2) Someone actually says something funny and it’s liked by a friend who’s like by that friend’s friend and then that friend’ friend’s friend and so on and so forth until it’s trending. With Tik Tok, not only is your FYP randomized but it gives the viewer a sense of anonymity. I’ve seen plenty of funny Tweets that should’ve gone viral that I didn’t favorite cause I thought “this person is going to think I’m a weirdo if I’m only the 8th person to like this.” Oddly enough, Tik Tok’s ability to remove that social contract from social media has helped lead to their success.

Next is the commitment you make to the app. Most news articles today don’t need to be read. Everything you need to know is right there in the headline. “Trevor Bauer Is Pitching With One Eye Closed”. What’s the point of opening that article? What is it going to tell me that I don’t already know? With Tik Tok, I know I’m not going to like every video, but I can’t skip ahead. I don’t know if I’m going to enjoy the video until I’m halfway through it and by that time I might as well finish it either way. 

Tik Tok is comprised of regular ass people. Which is the thrill of it. The content creator is giving you a peak into their life and viewers feel like they can relate. You can see the same thought or notion that you’ve had pile up 2.7 million likes. When one of your friends sends you a video, most of the time it’s something you and your friends have done or can see yourselves doing. It’s validation, which is what we’re all really here for. Unless it’s a video of somebody getting scared or hit in the nuts or something which is always just funny to share.

I try to mirror my blogs based on these three principles. Anynonimty to bash or agree with me, hopefully enough intrigue to force you to read the whole thing, and a look into my personal thoughts and ideas. I’d say with the most stress on being personal. Because the odds are someone is thinking the same way I am. Or going through something similar to me. I just like writing it down more than putting on a weird voice and holding up my own camera to my face. Some regular people just need the right platform.

The Taste You Can Sea

I want the CEO of Cinnamon Toast Crunch thrown in jail. @JensenKarp posted a picture of his cereal this morning with cinnamon blasted shrimp tails amongst his Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It might be the most disrespectful thing I’ve ever seen and I won’t be shocked if they ask for the death penalty.

I always thought that seafood was this elaborate prank that the whole globe has decided to play on me. I don’t believe that anyone actually likes it. Saying something “smells like fish” is literally an insult, and you expect me to believe you’re willingly putting that smell in your mouth? It has to be a gag.

Imagining eating seafood is bad enough, but for it to be in your first meal of the day? You just have to mail it in from there. Call out of work, it’s over for you today. Seafood is bad, seafood where you’re not expecting is terrorism. Like when your aunt puts tuna in the Mac salad at the family bbq. But atleast I guess some people pretend that those things go together. Shrimp and Cinnamon Toast Crunch? That poor soul.

Big thing about the picture is that it’s just the tails. Which means (I’m going to gag writing this) some sociopath was slurping on the shrimp and then Salt Bae’d the tails into the cereal vat. Everyone needs to go to jail.

I hope this guy is ok. Mentally he’s toast, but physically he could’ve had a shellfish allergy. If everyone is healthy and if this guys smart he’ll find someone in his house with an allergy and make a billion dollars. Honestly, I’m not sure that’s enough. 

It’s Time To Evolve

The wheel, electricity, printing press, there’s certain adaptations in human civilization that changes our every day lives. Not since the Internet, has innovation had the potential to change the human existence for the better. Change all clothes to sweats. 

I had a death in the family last week and blew off the cobwebs on the suit hanging in my closet. Now I’m a bigger guy, granted, so on my best day my suits don’t feel great. I haven’t had a real reason to don my suit since the world shut down a year ago. Boy was that thing snug. 

As I sweat, tugged, and adjusted my way through the funeral parlor, I found myself excited to get home so I can change back into my comfort clothes. Which made me think, why can’t suits be just as comfortable as my Nike sweatpants? The materials are there. It’s 2021, surely we have the technology to make comfortable clothes look fancy? All we need is for Nike to make tighter fitting fancy attire with a couple buttons and zippers in it.

It’s right there, staring us in the face. It’s so simple that we just let it go undetected. Why is it when we need to dress to impress we decide to wear clothes that people wore hundreds of years ago? Three piece suits? Ties? Belts! People only used to wear this shit because they hadn’t figured out elastic could go into clothing yet. The fabric they chose was the most comfortable available at the time, we need to reevaluate that option. Why are we holding onto this?

It’ll make funerals more bearable. Weddings will be easier to dance at. Iron creasing before a big job interview will be a thing of the past. Spilling something at a fancy dinner won’t cost you an arm and a leg to get out. Possibilities are endless. 

All it takes is acceptance. We have to collectively agree that it’s socially acceptable. The same companies that make tracksuits need to step up to make prom suits. Plus we’ll need a pioneer to lead the charge. I’d gladly fall on that sword but I don’t think I’d have the societal impact as say a Leo or an Idris Elba.

This is my written patent for when this makes millions and changes the world. It’ll be my life’s work. If it doesn’t happen in my lifetime, it is my wish that everyone show up to my wake/funeral in fresh ass sweat suits. 

Sticking The Landing

Talking is hard. Talking in a world where everything you say is written down, tweeted, and recorded is nearly impossible. We’re constantly kept to this standard that everything you ever say has to be correct. And it always has to hold up. There’s no statute of limitations either. If you ever misstep the mob will come to snatch your livelihood. We’re the gotcha generation. I hate this, and condemn it to the final ring of Hell. However, I’m about to do the shit out of that.

https://youtu.be/fjIuPSuYSOY

If you’ve never seen the video above this blog won’t make much sense. Certainly won’t be nearly as satisfying. In maybe my favorite video ever, Patrice O’Neal schools this lady on the danger of “cancel culture”.

The woman in video is Sonia Ossorio. Sonia was in this debate with Patrice O’Neal to advocate against Opie and Anthony for a sexual assault joke they made against Condoleezza Rice. The radio hosts sent Patrice as their champion. 

That joke almost certainly wouldn’t fly in today’s world, and probably rightfully so. It was Patrice’s opinion that we don’t need to defend the joke but should defend the right to make any joke. That good jokes and bad jokes are born from the same place and sometimes you just don’t stick the landing. That doesn’t mean you fire someone anytime a joke doesn’t work out. Especially when it’s done in a comedy setting. 

But opinions evolve. Comedy adapts. In the end, it appears like Sonia’s way of thinking is more on the forefront of our nation’s attitude towards comedy.

Which brings me to my next point.

The bell, Sonia, it tolls for thee. That picture of Sonia and Cuomo is only about six months ago. Now politics aside, and of course I do believe in due process and Cuomo has not yet had his day in court, at the moment these remain as only allegations. HOWEVER, Sonia was torch in hand at the mention of a joke(!) regarding sexual exploitations, but appears to remain a supporter of someone who’s actually accused of sexual harassment. Seven times over. The real deal, not a joke. By her own standards, she should be canceled.

Sonia Ossorio is the President of National Organization of Women of New York (NOW) which boasts as the nation’s largest organization in advancing women’s rights. She has worked to improve gender-based violence and workplace discrimination. Ossorio also helped to make tougher laws on rape offenders in NY. All work that should be commended and applauded. Work Sonia should be proud of. Should we call for her job? Disregard all her previous years because she took a picture with a guy? And called the guy now accused of sexual harassment a true leader? Of course not. 

I don’t need an apology from Sonia. She doesn’t owe anyone shit. But what I would like to see is acknowledgement that sometimes we do/say things we regret. And that shouldn’t mean the end of the road for that person. 

We can’t live in a society where a mistake is a death sentence. A lot of the times, like in this case, AT THE TIME it wasn’t a mistake. Plenty of people felt that way about Cuomo, but circumstances change, feelings change, and we shouldn’t always be held accountable from a previous opinion you may have held. This idea that you can’t change your mind about something or someone is the denial of growth and the death of free thinking.

Rest in Power Patrice O’Neal, you were right.

An Eye For An I

In Trevor’s newest stunt to become the most annoying person in the MLB, he’s now pitching with one eye closed. Why? Because he loves attention. Bauer claims it’s to help his command but the only thing he wants command over is Twitter trends. He’s not a team guy. Trev is an “I” guy. Do you know who isn’t too fond of your new delivery? People who actually only have one eye.

I have a friend with only one eye. Lost it when he was like 50 in a hockey accident. Maybe not a friend friend but like a family friend. Put it this way, he’d show up to my wake if I died. 

One eyers are regularly the target of offensive behaviour. No one keeps an eye on their feelings. I’m not sure why. Maybe because eyeballs are gross. Seeing someone pull out their fake eyeball is enough to make a guy want to Oedipus shank himself. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t a group that should be protected.

Here is a list I’ve compiled that I found people with one eye find offensive. If they’re angry you shouldn’t call them Nick Fury. If they’re pissing you off you can’t threaten them with The Goonies. If they mumble you can’t say “Speak up Minions.” During Halloween time, don’t ask them if they have a pumpkin patch. If they jump scare you, don’t say “Nice one, Wazowski.” And if you have two eyeballs, don’t pitch with one.

Bet you didn’t think of that, did you Trevor? Exploiting cyclops. Not everyone has the luxury of full sight like you. Some people would kill to pitch with both eyes. Have a heart you self obsessed dickhead. 

To V Or Not To V

I had the option to get the vaccine and I didn’t pull the trigger. Talking vaccinations has become a weird thing. When you ask some people if you should get the vaccine they look at you like you just asked them their take on euthanasia. The only correct answer to that question is “why should I give a shit what you do.”

I’m not anti covid vaccinations. I guess I’m not pro either since I turned down my own. I just hate that every decision is a line in the sand now. If you choose option A that means you vote for this person, have these morals, and believe in this. If you choose option B that means you vote for that person, have these...you get it. Everything is mutually exclusive. 

I considered injecting myself with Johnson & Johnson until my sister spooked me. I thought my sister was a shoo-in for this shot. She graduated in the top 3% getting her PHD. When I asked her if she’s going to get the vaccine she told me “Eventually. This was historically expedited and I just want to make sure they work out all of the kinks first.” Which I heard as “If you get this vaccine you will die, and painfully too.” It’s probably important to stress my sister doesn’t practice medicine. But she’s like the smartest person I know so I take everything she says and carve it in stone.

Now I’m hearing crazy shit that’s making me think twice. Like if you want to travel you’ll eventually have to show proof of vaccination. That would really put a damper on the trip I was planning to Texas to see my college roommate. Even worse, there’s whispers that to go to stadiums, arenas, or any other professional sports event you’re gonna need to present your V card to get in. Now they have me by the balls.

Plus there’s all the conspiracy theories. Like they’re going to put a chip in your brain? Jokes on you that’d be a selling point for me. I WANT a chip in my brain. Be so dope. Also, stay away from anyone who uses the term “sheep” too much. Like relax dude, I believe in aliens too.

But the truth is, I’m looking for every excuse I can because I’m afraid of needles. I’m comically large to hate syringes. But if we could control the things we’re afraid of, we wouldn’t be afraid of them would we? Duh. I’ll pass out and shit. Pass out hard too. It’s weird I can see blood, but if I really think about it moving through my body it makes my heels hurt and my knees weak. Then to feel and see it getting sucked out of your body? I can’t. 

That’s the big secret. The main reason I don’t want this vaccination is because needles make me a big cry baby. It’s not some grand proclamation of what party I belong to. Every little thing you do doesn’t have to be this big stance. But I’ll tell you what, if this vaccine prevents me from seeing the Yankees play the Mets on 9/11, I’ll do it. I’ll be there first thing in the morning with a smelling salts mustache, flicking the vain in my arm.

How Bad Is The British Media Though?

They’re bad. Real bad. Bunch of dickheads really. They make it look like the Yankees get tossed softballs. It feels like all of their newspapers are at The National Inquirer’s level. This is their mainstream stuff. 

Ok so they have paparazzi, big deal. So does America right? Yeah I guess, but we leave that to the weirdos at TMZ for the most part. Imagine if TMZ bought and controlled the NY Post. That’s what they’re working with across the pond. 

It’s no secret that legitimate news is at war with the internet. Any blogger or schmuck with a Twitter handle can break news nowadays. So little things like ya know, fact checking, has to take a backseat in the story arms race. Which is where the UK gets wild. They straight up just make shit up. They lead the league in YOLO balls. Is that also a problem here? Sure, but not nearly on the same level or frequency. 

Here’s a list of libel cases the UK tabloids have lost to give you a glimpse of what wankers they can be. 

- Liberace sued in 1959 when an article was published strongly hinting that he was gay. Was he gay? Probably, but who gives a shit. Liberace never publicly acknowledged his sexuality and this tabloid knew damn well that homosexuality was still illegal in the UK at the time. 

- In January of 2007 a picture of Kiera Knightley was posted in the Daily Mail with the caption “If pictures like this one of Kiera carried a health warning, my darling daughter might have lived.” Fucking heavy man. That’s a lot to put on a woman suggesting she has an eating disorder without a shred of evidence. Then implying that she’s somehow responsible for the death of your daughter.

- Former First Lady, Melania Trump sued for millions of dollars when the British media published an article stating that she “provided services beyond simply modeling”. That same article literally said word for word, “there was no evidence to support the allegations”. Doesn’t matter, headlines flew off the shelves. You can’t just decide who’s a prostitute for fun. They paid the Trumps and issued an apology on their website retracting their insinuations.

-Parameswaran Subramanyam, we all remember him. Held a 23 day hunger strike to raise awareness to the Sri Lankan civil war. The man was regarded as a hero to his people. Well, British media didn’t like that one bit and wrote an article saying that he was secretly downing burgers when no one was looking. Cut him right at the knees, he was shunned by the Tamils after that. Poor dude starved himself, literally had to go to the hospital for it and the tabloids were like “no he didn’t”. I’d be lying if I said this one didn’t make me giggle, but it’s funny for a Tweet/blog to suggest, not a legitimate news outlet. 

-Elton John won a libel case after the tabloids completely made up a story about him banning people from talking to him at a charity event. 

-Piers Morgan literally quit Good Morning Britain today over this Royals fiasco. Well in 2004 he was big time fired as Editor for the Daily Mirror after he ran with a story that included pictures of British soldiers abusing Iraqi prisoners. Whole thing was a hoax. Completely made up, and Piersy fell for it hook, line, and sinker. 

- After humanity’s sweetheart Freddie Mercury passed away, the Daily Mirror decided to go scorched earth in the most tasteless way of all time. An unwarranted attack on Freddie was written while his body was still warm. The author suggested that AIDS was a form of suicide in his Freddie’s circle and had this to say about his legacy, “In fact he was sheer poison, a man bent- the apt word in the circumstances- on abnormal sexual pleasures, corrupt, corrupting and a drug taker.” I mean good God you couldn’t be more of a piece of shit if you tried.

Many have fell victim to the pressure of the British microscope, but their cash cow is, and always will be, the Royals. Harry sued a few years back when his phone was hacked by the tabloids themselves! His nudies found the covers of newspapers and his private messages became public record. Which is beyond insane, but we all know the biggest tragedy in tabloid history. His mother Diana.

Despite the many conspiracies surrounding Lady Diana’s death, the most concrete accepted truth is that the overwhelming British media played a big part in her accident. Lady Di snuck out the back of a restaurant with a close friend to avoid the tsunami of paparazzi cameras. When word hit the mob that she fled she was hunted down by camera ninjas on motorcycles to get a shot of her. The collision between the motorcyclists and Diana’s car were estimated to be at around 100 mph. A doctor on the scene said when the rest of the tabloids caught up, they started to photograph the bodies at the sight of the wreck, although they were never published. Some journalists were actually held and charged with manslaughter although the charges were later dropped. 

It feels like after Oprah’s interview with Megan and Harry, everywhere you look there’s disdain for the British media. So if you were wondering what people meant about them being trash, this is what they were talking about. Like I said earlier, dickheads. 

NC Woman Finds Out Her Long Lost Father Is On FBI Top 10 Most Wanted List

It’s safe to say that Kathy Gillcrist’s quest to find her birth parents did not go as planned. Kathy grew up in an adopted home, at 61 she decided to take a 23andme to see what her biological parents were up to. During her search for knowledge she met her third cousin, Susan Gillmor, who just happened to be a geneaolgist up in Maine. Kathy was off to a lucky start.

Susan was able to track down Kathy’s parents and broke the news in maybe the meanest way ever.

“She said, ‘Okay I found your father. All I’m going to do is give you his name.’ Gillcrist recalled. ‘I said, Is it someone famous?’ She said ‘Um yeah.’ ”

Meet William Bradford Bishop Jr., Kathy’s dear old dad. Currently top 10 on the FBI’s most wanted list and on the run since 1976. Bradford speaks five languages, has his bachelor’s degree from Yale, his Master’s in Italian, was an avid camper in Africa, where he also learned to fly as an amateur pilot in Botswana. He was built for living on the lam. Not to judge a book by it’s mugshot but I was not expecting this kind of resume from his picture. 

Ok I kind of feel like I was hyping up a murderer back there so I need to remind you this guy’s a piece of shit. He’s wanted for bludgeoning his wife, mother, and three young sons to death in Bethesda, Maryland. He then brought their bodies to Columbia, NC to bury them in shallow graves. Then Bradford lit the graves on fire. Quite literally overkill. He’s 85 now though, so I promise if I ever run into him I’ll beat the brakes off this old man.

Imagine being a normal person and now you know you’re rooted by a sadistic murderer. Is that in you somewhere? Will you unlock something the next time someone pisses you off? Like if someone you know visits Paris and comes back pronouncing it “Par-ree”. Will your inner bludgeonor surface?

This is a good lesson in quitting while you’re ahead. You don’t want this shit on your conscience. Poor Kathy thought for a second that she was getting Al Bundy for a father and wound up with Ted. The never ending battle of nature vs nurture ends with a tally for the nurture column. I mean, Kathys doing great. She’s a teacher, she grew close with long lost family she just met, she wrote a book, and she hasn’t murdered anybody...yet. 

 

What The Heck Is The World Air Guitar Championship?

https://youtu.be/VchNcZKctuU

In theory I know what it is. But why is it? I normally don’t have the attention span to watch a video longer than a minute and a half. The link above me is a video of two time world champion Airistotle (get it?). It’s a six minute video and I’ve watched it three times so far . 

Let’s break down the video. For starters, there is way too many people in that crowd to be making that little of noise. There’s also no way this kid has full control over his mouth. I commend him for his confidence though, seriously. I feel silly even letting people see me bowl in public. Aristotle travels to Finland with minimal sex appeal, flailing around a stage pretending to play a guitar that isn’t even there. Based off his chords there’s no chance he knows how to play physical guitar. I don’t either, but I still know that’s not it. 

According to their website, USA Air Guitaring has five steps. Qualifiers, regionals, Semi-finals, national championship, and whoever wins the national goes to Finland for the World Tournament. 

The rules are as follows. Each performance is a minute long, picking whatever section of the song you wish. Backup bands, real or fake, are strictly prohibited. There’s two rounds, cummalative scoring. And my absolute favorite rule, direct quote: “instrument must be invisible & must be a guitar” . I mean, if anyone’s ever broken that rule they should do immediate jail.

Scoring is based off of three categories. Technical merit, you don’t need to know how to play the guitar but you still have to sell it for a good score. Stage performance, I’ll give Airistotle this, he rocked the fuck out of that stage. Lastly, Airness. I don’t know what the fuck that means. The rule book says it’s the most difficult part to explain but the most important to scoring. Ok? “The extent of which a performance transcends the imitation of a real guitar and becomes an art form in and of itself”. That description could’ve been written in Mandarin and it would’ve made just as much sense to me. 

I left one little rule out because I think it deserves a paragraph of it’s own. “Air roadies are allowed, but must leave the stage before the performance”. What the fuck goes on? Is this a problem for the AGWC? Are girls really looking at these videos like “hey little bitch boy, get over here and show me what them fingers do”?

No disrespect to Airistotle, but give me a break. Is that really their king? I did a better air guitar writing this blog going from my bed to bathroom and my AirPods in. Black Velvet, Alannah Myles. Sign me up. If I get roadies and a free trip to Finland I’ll blow those little Finns the fuck away. 

Wise Guys Sack Race

Sack races are a lost art. They used to be littered all over bbqs, block parties, and carnivals. Then poof! Gone. While it’s a shame that kids won’t know the rush of jumping at high speeds with your entire body in a potato sack, it’s probably for the best. Those things weren’t sanitary? Each one smelled like a pooped in McDonald’s play place. Certainly wasn’t safe. Especially if I was racing. Get off the tracks or your classmates will be signing your arm for the next three months. This is the story of my best race, I was about six. 

I’ve always been an athlete. I may not look it now, but even now I’m a fathlete. I was Marshawn Lynch in a potato sack. My most memorable sack race win came at the 1st birthday party for the son of a famous celebrity actor. But because I have class, I will not be name dropping my family friend. 

Chazz Palminteri! It’s Chazz Palminteri. Feels good to get that off my chest. Look, I’m not famous and I’m certainly not rich. We just know the Palmenteris because my mom happened to be best friends with Chazz’ wife in high school. We’re close enough that we still get a Christmas card every year, but distant enough that I haven’t seen them since their son’s first birthday. My mom blames my father’s behavior that day for that. 

I guess there’s a case to be made for it being my dad’s fault. My father, not the subtlest of fellows, immediately left the party to go buy a disposable camera the second he saw De Niro was in attendance. We have pictures from this party somewhere. It’s mostly streaky pictures of Chazz and De Niro, like my dad snapped them as he was walking by. Further down the album you can see he became more clever. Dad started strategically posing my sister and I so that various celebrities were in the background. Guess he wanted it for...proof? I don’t know he’s weird. His jokes are pretty rough too, so I do believe that he wasn’t well behaved. What I don’t believe is this is what scared the Palminteris away from my loving family. It was my athletic prowess. 

When they announced the sack race I started screaming. Psyche out my opponents. My mother, because she’s an elegant woman, came over to me as I strapped in and told me to take it easy on these kids. Probably cause we stuck out or because they couldn’t afford being sued if I hospitalized a celebrity’s child. Didn’t matter, I didn’t hear her. I had tunnel vision for the finish line. 

I slaughtered those brats. I wish there was slowmo footage of it. I jumped, plowed, and stiff armed my way to the winners circle. Fathers cheered, mothers screamed. 

Chazz came over to me to congratulate me. I looked him dead in the eyes and said “Where’s my prize”. My mother gave me a face like I’m gunna fuck you up later. Tough shit mom, spoils of war. De Niro laughed and went “Oooh you didn’t get this man a prize?!” which sent Chazz into a panic. He told his wife he didn’t even think of a prize and how could he forget. My mom promised him I was fine and that I must have forgot my manners. I was not fine. I let him have it.

Chazz told me not to move and left in his car. Twenty minutes later he came back with a wooden basket the size of me filled with candy. A bounty fit for a king. My mom protested and it was my turn to give the “I’m gunna fuck you up later” look. My mom told me I could pick two pieces of candy. Ummm bullshit? But Chazz, the legend he is, snuck the whole basket into our trunk when we weren’t looking. 

There’s no morale here. It’s just a story of me being a bad mf. The tale of how I shook down Sonny LoSpecchio for a basket of candy. 

The Uncrowned Festival King

The word “festival” has recently been corrupted to leave a bad taste in your mouth. Festivals are now synonymous to loud co-eds in even louder clothing grinding down so hard on the straw in their mouth that you worry they’re going to start spitting up teeth. But true festivals don’t live in the parking lots of professional stadiums, but rather in small town Americana.

I was born in a one square mile town. Visiting small towns make me feel like everything’s going to be alright. In these bubbled off towns, small problems seem so big and big outside problems seem so small. Nothing brings a community together like shutting down Main Street and celebrating some weird specific tradition. 

I went down a deep internet hole of these weird traditions and festivals the other night. I haven’t been to any of these festivals yet, hence the “uncrowned” in the title. But festivals better count their fucking days because my usurpation is coming. Here are my top 5 target festivals I plan on attending in the future.

5. National Hollerin Contest, Spivey’s Corner, NC

https://youtu.be/SC7-Nuf2MYQ

WOO PIG SOOIE! I love the passion that comes from the hollerers. Believe it or not there are four different types of hollerin: communicative, functional, expressive, and distress. I just have so many questions. What do the judges look for in differentiating scores? How far does the prestige reach for the winner afterwards? Is hollerin something these competitors worked at or is it a natural born talent? Every single winner has come from the hosting county of Sampson...all except one. How big of a legend did the winner from the bordering Wayne County have to be to steal the title from the home turf? Do they hate the Wayne hollerer for bringing home the championship as a visitor? Or was his hollerin so beautiful that he’s still held in hollerin lore? If hollerin ain’t your thing, you can participate in contests like watermelon rollin or biggest bell pepper. This is a time machine festival. 

4. Grumpy Old Men Festival, Wabasha, MN

https://youtu.be/6ktU76UkYiQ

Besides the whole getting ready to punch your ticket part, being a grumpy old man is the dream. Nobody can say shit to you. Do what you want, say what you want because everyone just chalks it up to you being a grumpy old man. For a whole weekend, this is how the people of Wabasha act. Based on the 1993 classic Grumpy Old Men, this town channels their inner Max Goldman for their festivities. The weekend is headlined by good ol fashioned drinking, ice plunging, ice fishing, and minnow racing. But you better believe I’d spend my time placing dead fish underneath various car’s passsenger seats. 

3. Ullr Fest, Breckinridge, CO

https://youtu.be/4T8nNnqhYRY

Norse mytholgy has been hot in the streets for a couple years now. Between the show Vikings, Thor movies, and video games like God Of War and Valhalla, everyone fancies themselves a mini Norse historian. Ullr, the god of snow and winter is the belle of this ball in Breckinridge. They party in his honor every year. And when I say party, I mean fuckin party. Everyone’s dressed up as Vikings with a drink in their hand as they parade the streets with floats that you can ski off of. They have a shot stick made up of connected skis that’s a couple of street blocks long. Come night time, they host a MASSIVE bonfire made up of the town’s discarded Christmas trees. The fire is accompanied by more drinking and a big ass dance party. Skol.

2. Gelande Quaffing Championship, Jackson Hole, WY. 

https://youtu.be/jMIUB3m4VBQ

If you didn’t watch the video, do yourself a favor and go back. By far the craziest drinking game I’ve never heard of. As the legend goes, late one night while closing the bar in this small Wyoming town, the bartender slid a beer to his patron who let it fly off the bar, caught it and slugged it back. High on the moment and amongst other things probably, the boys kept the beers slinging down the end of the bar and turned it into a game. They integrated tricks and point system. It has now taken on a mind of its own in the annual championship with every one dressed like Beerfest contestants. As far as I can tell Gelande Quaffing is made up of four 60 second rounds. Teams of four in a head to head match, relay style. First round is just slide as many beers as you can, catch and chug. Second round, same thing but you have to complete a 360 spin before your catch. Third round you have to complete a through the legs catch before your chug. Last round you have to do one regular catch, one 360, one through the legs, and one freestyle move. From the videos I’ve seen, the freestyle tricks have consisted of lighting the table on fire, back flip catches, flinging beers off skis, and catching and chugging a beer upside down while two teammates hold your feet. I mean, cmon. What’s better than bullshittin with your buddies, making up a game and having it turn into a national phenomenon?

1. Frozen Dead Guy’s Day, Nederlands, CO

https://youtu.be/E1S6NwCcmWU

I love weird shit. It doesn’t get much more weird than celebrating the random dead frozen grandpa in your town. Apparently there was this old man who lived in Nederlands who decided to go the Ted Williams route. Well, unfortunately for him, his remaining family decided to fuck off back to Norway leaving him frozen and deceased in a random shed. Well the nice town of Breckinridge decided to honor the old man’s wishes and appoints a caretaker each year to keep him frozen in his shed. In honor of the frozen dead guy in their town they party their asses off each year in his memory. The events are just as strange as their predicament. There’s coffin races, where you make your own death beds and carry your teammate through an obstacle course. There’s a costume themed ice pool plunge, ice turkey bowling, frozen t-shirt contest, frozen salmon toss, and brain freeze contests. The nights are topped off with karaoke, live music and drinking. The color scheme is very 80’s ski lodge, and everybody dresses up as zombies or other dead people. When the going gets weird, the weird turn pro.

So there you have it. My mapped out plan for sheer American festival domination. I’ll be a ruthless King. That is, once this covid stuff is over. And as long as I have the time to take off work. 

Hats Off To The Comedians

With comedians off-stage during in 2020, quarantine has me starving for good stand up. With everything that’s come on Netflix, it seems as though I’ll die of hunger. I’d say about 80% of specials on Netflix right now are unwatchable. 

I apppreciate that Netflix has started flooding their platform with stand up. Outside of HBO, every other streaming service has a minimal amount of comedy specials. But Netflix has to do a better job of who they’re giving stage time to. It’s just loud noise at the moment. I couldn’t make it past the first 10 minutes of the majority of the Netflix specials that landed on “Top 20” lists for 2020. They’re pushing too much out, it’s quantity of quality at the moment. 

To tell the truth, I enjoy watching bad stand up specials. It makes me feel better about myself. I picture interviewing some of these comedians. In my reveries I ask them if they ever watch their specials on Netflix and cringe about how bad their jokes are.I know I did, cringed the whole damn time. It’s mean I know. I probably have a deeper rooted problem here, but it makes me laugh to imagine it.

You might be thinking if it’s so easy, why don’t you do it. And I do, kind of, in my head. I imagine me doing standup and I’m eons better than the new stuff coming out. Despite never doing standup in my life. I don’t think I’ve ever even held a microphone before. Hell, I got a C+ in my college Public Speaking course. But in my head, I’m a rockstar comedian. However during my fantasies of selling out arenas, I noticed something: comedians don’t wear hats on stage. 

Dealbreaker. My hairline is an absolute nightmare. It would be funnier than anything I could possibly say on stage. I’m not sure why comics don’t wear hats. Some things would just look too ridiculous I guess, like goth republicans. 

I’m aware Patrice O’Neal is an exception to this rule. But Patrice O’Neal is the exception to every rule. No one could emulate literally anything Patrice did on a stage, I guess that includes wearing hats. 

It must be hard for comedians, I assume they hear/read a lot of distorted criticism. Comedians are probably the most targeted substrata of famous people where regular ol’ people can point to them on a TV screen and say “I can do that, and probably better”. Which is unfair. But also, I absolutely could do that and better. I’ve come to terms with never being able to sell out MSG with my comedic genius though. Not because of my untapped talent, obviously, but because I’d look ridiculous on stage wearing a hat.