Today is Another Day

And that day is Saturday. Yay!

Here are some of the things keeping me sane right now.

Breaking News

The post formerly known as "You Take the Good..." has been removed. Its author pleads the 5th. Thank you for all of the very helpful comments; I've actually saved them to a Word doc for future reference.

Curse You, David Chase

No, I'm not suddenly disappointed with the ending of Sopranos. Well, not exactly anyway.

I would have been perfectly content--no, make that happy, to never ever hear that song again. You know which one I mean. That insipid Journey song. Now, it's lodged itself as a permanent earworm in my brain. And it is everywhere. It's in articles about the show. It's in the Pittsburgh Pirates' spoof, it's in Hilary Clinton's REALLY bad spoof. It was the first thing (the first thing) in my brain at 3:00 this morning when I woke up.

"Don't Stop Believin'"--note: no "g"--was overrated and overplayed when it was released. I was in high school and that song was a shining example of everything wrong with American music at that time. In England they had The Clash, The Police, U2. In 1981, we had Kenny Rogers, The Eagles, and Journey. From it's vapid lyrics to its whining guitar, that song just sucks. And what the hell is a "power ballad" anyway? Nigel calls it "the anti-Stairway to Heaven."

Sure, I would hear it from time-to-time in the grocery store--and then curse the grocery store music gods (also known as Musak) and I could live with that. Now it's fucking everywhere, and it's even in the top 25 music downloads right now. What I want to know is who is buying it and more importantly, why?

Make yourselves known to me. Explain yourselves. Thank you.

Game On

For the first time in years, this week I realized I enjoy watching baseball again. I will always associate the game with both Nate and Mark, but suddenly, it doesn't make me sad--it makes me happy. We've watched the Rockies beat the Red Sox (bittersweet), the Rockies beat the Devil Rays, and the Yankees beat the Mets (boo.) And it's been fun again.

For the first time in years (since before Nate died) we'll be going to a game at Coors Field in a few weeks. Nate and I never went to a game together--we tried the summer he was in remission and never got our schedules lined up. But going to a game with Mark involved plenty of ritual and a lot of fun. We will walk in at the home plate entrance, stand at the top of the stairs looking out onto the field, caps in hand, to pause for a moment and take it all in--just as Mark always did.

Sure, MLB is corrupt and riddled with drugs and politics. It's also a great way to spend a lazy Sunday afternoon on the couch. Play ball!

Some Reading for Your Reading Pleasure

Because I don't have anything original to say right now, I'll share sites of those who do.

First, is one of this week's new finds: An Obsession with Food (and Wine.)

I don't know Derrick Schneider, but he emailed me this week about a work-related something-or-other and with a blog name like An Obsession with Food, how could I resist? His writing is colorful and educational, without being didactic or snooty, and I look forward to reading about more of the meals he cooks, plus is ideas for recipes, menus, and pairings. Yum.

Food writers who think they're better than you (or come off that way...) are a bore. I remember one guy from a travel board I used to frequent who was insufferable. No one's tastes were as refined as his; no one's cooking as sublime. What a bore. Derrick strikes me as being down-to-earth and cool.

One of the recent offerings is an article about pairing wine with Indian food. I've never been a fan of the two together (each separately, hell yeah,) but this article gave me something to think about and I might even branch out a little next time we go for a curry.

Next, is another blog I learned of this week from our dear Carl Lennertz (see right) called Novelworld. There are a handful of people in this industry who are really influential when it comes to breaking out books. Nancy Pearl, librarian extraordinaire is one of them, as is Penny Clark Ianniciello, the book buyer for Costco (yep, you read that right--she's a brilliant buyer and she knows books.)

Nick DiMartino of University Bookstore in Seattle is another. He's been doing his Nick's Picks selections for the store for a number of years, and now we all get to share in the fun. Nick knows fiction and he knows what he likes. Enjoy his recommendations and musings. His Harry Potter is Evil article kicks ass.

Finally today is Boing Boing: A Directory of Wonderful Things. And it is, indeed. I visit Boing Boing at least twice a day because I've become obsessed. Will there be more deformed popsicles? Chimps in Space? What gems of delight will they have for me next? Yes, this is a huge time suck, but a really wonderful one that will amaze and entertain. This morning's lead story is "Terrorists are Stupid" but check back often because these guys post a lot and they're hard to keep up with.

So, enjoy your Friday-I-really-don't-want-to-be-working-but-I-have-to-sit-at-this-desk-and-look-busy reading!

Wacked

Yeah, I'm writing about Sopranos.

After 8 1/2 years of watching--well, it wasn't really that long for us because we only just started watching the show in the third season and only had HBO for the last three, I think--I have to.

The first few seasons we watched on DVD, snapping up all the discs we could for weekend-long marathons of death, and grief, and sorrow, and murder. It was great fun, leaving us both a little bug-eyed at the end of each Sopranos marathon weekend.

This last episode was great. The show closed in typical Chase fashion--no nice, neat packages tied up in pretty bows. If you want that, watch Gilmore Girls.

Here are my thoughts on the ending:

In addition to Carlo flipping, Patsy Parisi did, too. There were a few scenes in the last two episodes of sideways glances and pregnant pauses, where I couldn't help but wonder what Patsy was up to. While I was having my doubts about Paulie, I really had my doubts about Patsy.

Paulie may very well be dead. The cat, with its obsession with Christopher's picture, was possibly foreshadowing Paulie's death. Though, as Nigel surmised, maybe the cat was Christopher. Christopher hated Paulie and Paulie hated the cat that wouldn't go away.

Tony is dead. Gone. 86ed. You don't off the boss of your rival family and live. In fact, you probably aren't hanging out at the local steakhouse eating onion rings with your family so soon after doing that. The man at the counter who walked into the bathroom (A Russian? He looked Eastern European to me) was a tip of the cap to the Godfather, as was an earlier scene. Throughout the Godfather, death is foreshadowed with oranges--there's a bowl of oranges on the table during the meeting of the families, Don Corleone eats an orange soon before his death.

Tony Soprano peeled and ate what appeared to be a tangerine while stopping in at the beach house to see his family. Gone.

David Chases's ending did provide some frustrations--who doesn't want things wrapped up nice and neat? Who doesn't want to know how it ends for Tony? Who didn't want Adrianna to return, alive? But alas, Chases gave us what he wanted and not what we wanted and that's okay. It was a great ride.

(Though I do believe my brother's proposed ending was the best of all:

Tony wakes up. Rolls over in bed and says, "Honey, I just had the strangest dream."

No surprise--Emily Hartley is in bed next to him. She wakes up.

In bursts Bob Hartley, sporting a sawed-off shotgun. He blows them both to pieces.

Roll final credits.)

A Post About Nothing

So, I just got home from a trip to a city I cannot mention, where I dined with a friend whose name I cannot mention. We had a wonderful, wonderful time, reconnecting after having not seen each other for about a year. We laughed. We cried. We ate seitan.

Friday night, an author whose name I cannot mention (formerly an "A Lister" and soon to be again, I hope) was on a prime-time national television show I cannot mention (but I can tell you that we spent $40 on a cab to go ten blocks because we were desperate and late because the car the studio was supposed to send never arrived), and then we went to a party in the home of a man whose name I cannot mention, in honor of another author whose name I cannot mention. This one is definitely A List and the editor at her former A List publisher--the person who passed on this new book--is probably going to lose her job after passing on this one because of all the media attention we're getting. (Or, at least that's the rumor going around the trade show whose name I cannot mention.) She was there, too, and she wasn't very nice to any of us.

The host's kids were in attendance, too, and they spent the evening doing skits for people in their bedroom about the Iraqi insurgency. I also met a very cool A List musician but I didn't realize it was him because I coulda sworn he introduced himself to me as a reporter from the biggest television network in Qatar. Yes, because a reporter from that television station, who I don't want to name (hi NSA!), was there. Weird.

Then, we went out for a fabulous dinner with some people whose names I cannot mention, and we had a lot of fun talking about 80s music. On Sunday, I got to hang out with the author that Friday's party was for and it was really cool and everyone was excited to see her and I'm really glad I get to work with her, but sadly, that's about all I can say because of the various Google Alerts setup throughout my company.

I had a pretty exciting weekend, as you can tell.