Monthly Archives: January 2010

Just when you think…

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…you’ve read, heard and seen it all…

You know, we hear the term “identity theft” bandied about every day, and I know I probably don’t give it the second and third thoughts I should. You know, “it’s all fine and good until it happens to you.” When I pay my bills online or buy things with my debit or credit card either at the point-of-sale or on the web, I really don’t think about someone getting hold of my personal information and having a vaca or a new car or just plain ripping me off. Maybe I should think about it more often. From a Rolling Stone article I recently read:

Rather than max out people’s credit cards and move on, Esther would become them, spending years living under a succession of assumed names. Posing as various young women, she got her GED in Ohio, aced her SATs in California, gained admission to three universities — including continuing-ed programs at Harvard and Columbia — and received $100,000 in student loans. Along the way, she duped countless people from coast to coast, from DMV clerks to college professors to the West Point cadets she dated.

I know that identity thieves, if not eventually caught, have to give up and at least move on. But this gal seems uncannily talented. Yeesh. Over the years, I’ve talked to people (and not all of them old folks) who believe we should go back to paying for things in cash. And if you want to buy something you can’t afford: wait. Save. How about that? Not sure how realistic that is with the prices of cars and houses being what they are, but I do see the wisdom with regard to consumable goods and the basic “toys” we simply must have. I’ve been as guilty as the next guy on that score.

In other news…

Did you see Keith Brooking’s little rant yesterday? Ah, karma. I read in one of the 5 or 6 post-mortems I scanned this morning that Brookings himself was witnessed exhibiting “run up the score” tactics and showoff mentality on many occasions in the past, both with Dallas and Atlanta. Hmmm. One of the hardest lessons, I think, is to learn to take it as well as dish it out. Can I get an amen?

I think I’ll go see if Jake’s ready for some breakfast. Have a good Monday, fiends…especially those of you who might have to go to w**k.

FO

BTTH VIII

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Ah, the ghostie shows again. Their utterly hideous line deliveries make television’s worst actor, David Caruso, look positively Shakespearean.

Last night, as the Thriller watched one of these “SyFy” (synonymous with horrendously bad screenwriting and acting — and if you think ghostie shows aren’t totally scripted and craftily edited, you’re mistaken) gems, I transcribed what I heard. Brilliant stuff. Behold…

(Spoken with infernal, nonstop banging sound in the background)

“Hey, what was that?”

“Something just went FOOoOOOoOo!”

“I heard something behind me, bro.”

“Don’t show fear!”

“I just saw a shadow.”

“I saw a mist grab Nick’s leg!”

“Smell this. We are smelling sulfur, which is a bad thing.”

“It’s pandemonium right now.”

“I got eyeball pain really bad.”

(Calling out) “How many spirits are here with me right now?”

“Dude, that’s not good.”

Next: the country’s only haunted tattoo parlor. I cannot wait. Heh heh. Makes me laff. Maybe that’s the reaction they’re looking for.

Ghostie shows: closet comedy. Kind of like Pat Robertson’s recent boneheaded comments.

:P

B. Zar

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After I got home at 7:00 last night, I did not feel like working. The Thriller and I watched some TV instead — I think it was the NFL Network. We watched a special on Jim “King” Corcoran.

One word describes my reaction: speechless.

It was one of the more bizarre (yet completely entertaining) bio programs I’ve ever seen. It was produced by NFL Films. You have to watch it. No, really, I mean it. You have to.

As a 30-some-year football fan, I was surprised that I’d never heard of him. I’d seen the name “Corcoran” now and again, but apparently never thought anything of it or bothered to inquire. The Thriller’s first comment upon seeing footage of Corcoran later in life: “He’s a dead ringer for Gene Simmons!” Imagine my delight at finding out in later research that one of Jim’s famous escapades in Las Vegas involved his impersonating the KISS singer. Heh.

Honestly. You just have to read it to believe it. Then catch the NFL Network TV show. If you thought Joe Namath was a boisterous, self-absorbed, womanizing self-promoter, this guy will change your perspective forever. Like someone said in the TV special: “Jim was the ‘off-Broadway’ version of Joe Namath.” Very good assessment. Corcoran, for me, redefined “bizarre.” He was indeed Joe Namath — but with a raging personality disorder thrown in. Amazing. Truly, you have to read his story to get the gist. I’m shocked that even YouTube has nothing on him — no wonder many people hadn’t heard of him. But he is worth checking out, believe it. Wow.

FO

Aw, bummer.

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The R & B world lost another great last night. Teddy Pendergrass, formerly of Harold Melvin & the Blue Notes (remember them, fellow 70s people?), has passed away after colon cancer surgery.

I liked his voice a whole lot better than Barry White’s. In fact, BW kind of creeped me out. Not only did every song sound pretty much the same, but the constant, ubiquitous droning harmony (with himself) in thirds just grated on me like I don’t know what. No bueno. But back to Teddy.

He toured for several years in the 2000s, despite constant physical barriers he experienced as a result of a 1982 car accident that left him a paraplegic. His story is quite interesting. I had no idea about the trials — both figurative and actual — he endured while trying to physically and emotionally recover. Especially striking is the tactic his therapist used to cure him of his suicidal feelings. Have you ever heard of staging your own funeral? Whoa. I guess it worked:

“I had a sheet over my face,” [Pendergrass] said. “People were giving eulogies and talking about me as though I had gone. It helped me turn my life around. I didn’t want to be dead. I took away the option to die, and knew I had to live.”

Sad day. I liked his music. I also like how the animation on his website shows him walking. Cool.

Have a good day, fiends. My hatred component is on hiatus, temporarily. As Martha says, “That’s a good thing.”

FO

Still More Things to Hate

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I am ON about hate the last 12 hours, lemmetellya. I don’t know why. I just feel all itchy scratchy, and I can’t nail down the reason. Blark. I don’t usually sulk about things, and I’m not predisposed to bouts of rage, but I feel a slow, subterranean stirring of volcanic activity starting to build up steam. It could be deadly. (Or it could be Dinner Theatre.)

So why is the Fink hatin’ on things? I know not. Yet I still offer the list.

Still More Things I Hate (in addition to these and these)

  1. That American Idol is one of the top-rated shows in America.
  2. Bossy, controlling personalities, shielded behind the paper-thin veil of wanting to be “helpful.”
  3. Being told to “relax,” or to “calm down.” I mean it. I will roll you up and smoke you like an old Laredo.
  4. Not knowing.
  5. Knowing, but not being able to do anything about it.
  6. Politics, and the discussion of same at social gatherings, because A) it always seems to turn into a fight, which automatically ruins any magic, and B) minds are rarely changed.
  7. That 5 a.m. turns to 6 a.m. so quickly every day.
  8. My infuriating proclivity for procrastination where choreography is concerned.
  9. My infuriating proclivity for freaking out before a freakout is warranted.
  10. My infuriating proclivities in general.

Sounds to me like you’re due for a list yourself, if for no other reason than you pity me, and misery loves company. And I know that my life is great and I have a fantastic family and I love my job and my students and I am blessed with amazing fiends. But…yeah. We all got our days.

Glurge.

FO