And now, a musical interlude:

of Montreal - Heimdalsgate Like A Promethean Curse

Best. Video. Ever.

The album is pretty damn good, too.

Schrödinger's Talk Show

So I just get home from work, and flip Conan on in time to hear him say "-arles Barkley is on the show tonight". Which means that for a few brief moments, until he added, "He's a big man.", the show existed in a quantum superposition wherein both Charles Barkley and Gnarls Barkley were simultaneously guests.

That is all.

Sports Talk: Not just bad college radio, but bad blog material as well!

Am I the only one in the area that actually likes the name "Red Barons" for our baseball team? It's really starting to seem that way, with so many people calling for it to be changed with the team's new affiliation with the Yankees. I've heard a lot of people bring up the fact that Red Barons merchandise "hasn't been selling well". Well, yeah, that's probably because nobody around here really gave a shit about having the Phillies' farm team here. The only time people really showed up for a game was when they were playing the Clippers, the Yankees affiliate. There are a lot more Yankee fans in this area, and if their farm team is playing here, you can bet that the merchandise will sell, no matter what name you put on it. So that argument can really be chucked right there.

Another one I'm hearing is that the current name has "no meaning" today. Uh... hello? Since when was relevance needed to name a baseball team? Columbus? Landlocked city? Team named the Clippers anyway? Yeah, there goes that argument. And it is historically relevant: the name comes from the Scranton Red Sox and Wilkes-Barre Barons. And I know there are so many people who can't appreciate local heritage that are crying "Oh, but that was so long ago! Nobody remembers them noooow!" To which I reply, "THAT'S. THE. FUCKING. POINT. JACKASS."

What do you people want? "The Scranton/Wilkes-Barre Yankees?" That sounds like something you'd buy tickets for from an irreputible street vendor in the Bronx. "Yeah, man, I got Yankees tickets right here. Best seats in the house. Sucker." Maybe he'll throw in one of his fine "Rolex" watches, as well.

Miners? Haven't we spent the last 15 years trying to get away from that stereotype?

The only half-decent one I've heard so far is "Highlanders", and even that seems kind of wussy and generic.

I've been fuming about this for a while now, but I finally had to write a rant about it tonight, after doing some snooping around baseball-reference.com and finding out that, many moves ago, in 1919, the team we now know as the Red Barons started out as... the Reading Coal Barons.

Think about that for a minute. We have the only team in baseball whose nickname is an unintentional pun on its original name. That alone makes it a keeper.

One thing we can all agree on, though: the Grump must die.

Friggin' Events

My day, in review:

• 11:00 AM:Wake up after long night of planning for my radio show. (Yes, despite popular belief, I actually do plan it.) Find myself confronted by even more planning. I hate having a four-hour slot.
• 12:15 PM: After the usual morning routines, turn on radio to find out that I've missed out on a rare appearance of The Disco Desperado.
• 12:30 - 3:30 PM: Finish preparing for show, wrestle with Windows while getting files transferred to laptop.
• 3:45 PM: Leave for station.
• 3:51 PM: Car stalls out on Birney Ave. Manage to get it halfway pulled into Turkey Hill entrance. Thankfully, someone pulling in stops and helps me push it into the parking lot. He spent some time cursing fuel injection and the way everything on a car is run by computer today. After my experiences, I would have to agree.
• 3:55 PM: After fumbling through my backpack, realize that my cell phone, which I rarely use and had gotten specifically for this purpose, was in my jacket.
  
  
  
  
  
  Which was, of course, at home.
• 3:56 PM: Asked Turkey Hill cashier to break a $1 bill. Attempted to call AAA on payphone located five feet from the busiest road in lower Lackawanna County.
• 4:00 PM: Begin waiting for tow truck. AAA says that it sould be there in 20-30 minutes. It begins to rain lightly.
• 4:50 PM: Truck arrives.
• 5:35 PM Luckily, we arrive at the dealer just as they were cleaning up shop for the night. Get preliminary diagnosis (timing belt), paperwork done. Called station, hoping that somebody was still there who can give me a ride back into Scrantonia. Pete graciously agrees to clear out some space in his car for me.
• 5:50 PM: Somehow remember to separate car key from rest of key ring. I usually don't remember things like that until I find myself locked out of my house at 1 AM.
• 6:30 PM: Arrive at station, proceed to do quick filler show, as I don't feel like trotting out all my usual stuff just for an hour and a half. Lots of mock-French grunting ensues.
• 8:40 PM: Arrive home, thinking that this long day was finally behind me.
• 8:41 PM: Enter house, find out that my cat had died.

I was planning on actually getting some stuff done tonight, but now I think I'll just go to bed and hope that none of this really happened.

Luxury Condo Update

Previously, on Live from the Mai-King Chinese Restaurant...

May 2006

And now, our progress three months later:

August 2006

So, as you can see, we now have more than one car parked in front of the half-building! Better looking cars, too! Not only that, but most of them now seem to have their windows intact! Doesn't that just scream luxury? Surely, the throngs of obscenely wealthy Scrantonians are anxiously awaiting the grand opening of this fine establishment! What's that, you say?

Poverty rates double the national average! Job cuts galore! Mission accomplished!

Ah, but surely you don't know about the fine business plans of these entrepreneurs:

1. Go into a city where white-collar jobs exist only on an NBC sitcom, and build countless luxury condos and upscale boutiques such as pet "centers" that look like something Tsubaki Nekoi would be doing if the whole manga thing hadn't worked out.
2. ?????
3. Profit!

This is a foolproof concept! How can you plebeians possibly pan such a patently perfect plan?