In My Head

9/24/09 The recent, highly charged political atmosphere once again reminds me that I am a man without a party. There’s an innate need for us to feel part of something larger than ourselves, to take sides in an Us vs. Them fight. Being a member in a political party allows us to gather in coffee shops and pat ourselves on the back, feel superior and laugh at others stupidity.

My only problem is I don’t know where I belong. My conservative friends would probably call me a liberal. My liberal friends see me as leaning to the right. I thought maybe if I listed my beliefs I could see where I fall in the political spectrum.

Let’s see, I’m pro-choice, I have no problem with gay marriage, I don’t believe in the death penalty and I’m hoping that alternative energies such as wind, solar and bio fuels will someday be our primary energy. Hmmmmm ??? Does that make me a bleeding heart moon bat lefty liberal?

I also believe that entrepreneurs shouldn’t be penalized for being successful. Everyone should have the same tax rate. I believe that affirmative action is a form of racism and that choosing to refer to someone as an undocumented resident as opposed to an illegal alien doesn’t make their presence any less illegal. I also believe in small government, really small government. I’m talking so small it could be run by midget Lilliputians on a part-time basis. Hmmmmmmm??? Does that make me a fascist, racist right wing nut?

Looking at my options I only see the negative. The Democrats are the fathers of the politically correct movement. Apparently there is only one set of correct political beliefs and they own them. They have a Robin Hood complex stealing from the evil wealthy and giving to the noble poor with the naïve belief none of the noble would ever work the system and that lots of money and a couple more government agencies will fix just about anything. Democrats are like that friend everyone has that orders a round of top shelf drinks just before informing you that he forgot his wallet at home. But it’s o.k. because he’s been corresponding with a prince from Nigeria who promises to reward him handsomely if he would only front him the operating expenses required to recoup his vast fortune.

What bothers me most about Republicans is the notion that there is only one party for true Americans and if you don’t share their political beliefs you are Un-American, a traitor, and a communist. Speaking of communists wasn’t the fall of the Soviet Union in strong part due to a single party that could not adapt? Watching the news coverage of the million moron march, one woman interviewed actually believed that President Obama wants to destroy this country because he hates America. Now you may believe that his approach in governing will destroy this country but if actually believe that it is his desire to destroy the country you are just a moron.

While were at it can we please stop comparing any political leader that you happen to disagree with to Hitler? George Bush was not like Hitler. Barack Obama is not like Hitler. But I promise you if the President ever decides to murder eight million people I’ll be the first to paint tiny mustaches on HOPE posters.

Maybe my future is in one of the smaller more esoteric parties. The Green Party? No, lets face it, the Green party is really just Democrats that drive Priuses and have a fear of winning elections.

The Libertarians? Now those are some badass no frills small government dudes. Why do I fear if I join that party I’ll find myself in camo on a ridge firing a riffle at FBI agents? Tell you what guys, stop recruiting lunatics and we’ll talk.

I think it’s a good idea to stay away from parties that have the words Liberty or Freedom in their name. Odds are their idea of liberty and freedom differ from yours.

Speaking of misnomers there is the Constitutional party. Constitutionalists believe that this is a Christian nation. To quote the party’s website, “The goal of the Constitution Party is to restore American jurisprudence to its Biblical foundations”. I think if you’re going to name your party after the Constitution you should read it first. At least get as far as the first line of the first amendment, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof”. Wow, talk about being Un-American. A religious group using the word Constitution in its party name is like a butcher shop named “The Vegetarian Delight”.

By the way, on their websites both the Libertarian and Constitution parties claim to be the countries third largest political party. I smell a cat fight!!!

Well folks it's time to cut the puppet strings and follow your own path. To that end, today I announce the start of a new political party, The Dan Generous party. Sorry you can’t join, were all filled up. But I suggest you start a party of your own, it’s quite liberating.

That’s it folks. Now I’m off to find a coffee shop where I can sip a latte, pat myself on the back, feel superior, and laugh at your stupidity.

6/26/09 They come in threes. In a 48 hour period America lost three of its entertainment icons. Ed McMahon past away at the age of 86. A long well lived life. Although I hear that the 80’s are the new 70’s so if I don’t make it to 90 I’ll be pissed. Although he had a long career in both radio and tv he will always be known as Johnny Carson’s side kick. Think of that, a career built around introducing your drinkin’ buddy once a night and laughing at his jokes. He rivals Ringo Starr for the greatest free ride of the 20th century. It’s great work if you can get it. My drinkin’ buddies don’t have talk shows, and they pay me very little to laugh at their jokes.

To me Farrah Fawcett’s death was the saddest. Not that I was a huge fan. Other than my pubescent teen years spent staring at her famous poster on my friend’s bedroom wall her work left no impression on me. I’m saddened whenever anyone loses such a long battle with a hideous disease such as cancer. To add misery to this already unbearable condition she had to dodge the scumbag paparazzi during her darkest hours.

And then there’s Michael Jackson. I don’t feel anything for the passing of the self anointed “King of Pop”. It’s hard to feel sadness toward the pathetic little man he had become. He treated his body like a human potato head doll and consumed cocktails of prescription drugs that would make Elvis form an intervention. But the worst part of his passing is that now we will have to endure countless tributes to his career. Let’s all genuflect as his library of work is paraded before us.

I’m not trashing his whole career but I feel he is vastly overrated. Personally, I enjoy some of the old Jackson Five songs. Sure they are pure bubble gum rock but they are also well crafted pop songs with infectious melodies. But these songs were written by the Motown hit making machine, not Michael.

And here’s the dirty little secret that nobody wants to admit. Thriller was not a great album. Rarely is any product with that much crossover appeal a work of art. Great art bled from the individual makes us turn around and crane our necks to experience the human condition from a different perspective. Thriller was over produced to such a high degree of technological proficiency that it successfully sucked out any soul that was inadvertently brought into the recording studio. The celebrated hits from the album were moderately good pop tunes that couldn’t hold a candle to the songwriting craftsmanship of the Motown factory. What made this album the greatest selling record of all time was timing.

It’s hard to imagine now but there was a time when the young MTV network’s programming was 90% music videos. By today’s standards the videos were very primitive. Mostly shots of the artist on stage cut with actors playing out some assumed tragic love story and always inexplicably some slow motion shot of glass breaking or water spilling. Then came Thriller. This is where Michael Jackson earns some of those “great entertainer” accolades that pour over him like the slow motion spilling water. He changed the music video from random shots of lip syncing and filler to mini movies about the songs. And that is what we really like about Thriller. Think about it, can you really listen to the song Thriller without picturing those dancing ghouls and maybe even in the anonymity of your bedroom, attempt the dance yourself? Can you think about “Beat It” without visions of Michael using his dance acumen to stop a fight between rival gangs? These music videos changed the format forever. For fans of music videos this was monumental, for fans of music this was tragic. Video killed the radio star and Michael Jackson pulled the trigger. I guess it was inevitable. Michael just had the sense to know he was in the right place at the right time.

Like I said, I feel neither sorrow nor joy at his passing. He was a sad little man. I’ll spend the next month dodging the love fest and praying to God that Madonna lives a long life. I couldn’t even pretend to care about her.

5/1/09 Get your twitter out of my face(book) you’re invading My Space. O.K. I know that was a lame attempt to incorporate the top social networking sites into a catch all phrase. A few months ago I finally climbed aboard the 21st century and joined my friends who were flocking to Facebook. Ironically, just six months earlier when a much younger fellow employee asked if I was on Facebook my sarcastic retort was, “If you’re over 40 and on Facebook you’re a loser”.

I viewed trolling the online social networking world as a desperate act of denial, an unwillingness to accept that you’re not in college anymore. But with so many of my contemporaries sparking up their status on line I slowly started feeling like an old man lamenting the death of the rotary phone. So I sheepishly walked through the front door of Facebook head down and mumbling, “I’m with them”.

For the most part the experience has been wonderful. I’ve reconnected with so many old friends. Like the guys I played in bands with in high school. It’s been twenty five years since we spoke. I often thought about them and wanted to pick up the phone and say, “hey, let’s meet for a beer and catch up”. But life gets in the way and the next thing you know its twenty-five years. Still there are others friends from high school, college, past jobs, old roommates around every corner of cyber space creating a virtual “This is your life”.

But now the euphoric dust is settling and tiny annoyances fester, the first signs of a stale relationship.

“Oh online social networking, you know I think you’re great but, umm, well, it’s umm, it’s not you it’s me. I’m feeling ummmm, I’m feeling too connected.”

There I said it. I know I’m in danger of reverting back to the old man and his technology rants. But I promise I’m not gonna go all Ted Kaczynski on y’all. I just want to say. Just because we now have the ability to let everyone we’ve ever known what we are doing or thinking every minute of the day, it doesn’t mean we should.

A few of my dear friends, and you know who you are, are woeful Facebook offenders chronicling the most inane minutia of day to day life.

“Dan just got home from work”

“Dan is going to take a shower”

“Dan just ate a really good tuna sandwich”

There is an element of narcissism here that makes one think the tuna sandwich is interesting because it is their’s. Here’s how you can tell if you are a Facebook abuser. If you post a new status more than three times a week you may think a little too much of yourself. If you are regularly posting multiple times a day you need to seek professional counseling. And for God’s sake please stop taking those stupid quizzes or surveys about the five places you’ve lived or the five bands you’ve seen live. Remember, we’re friends, I probably know where you have lived and what music you like.

But I shouldn’t be too harsh with Facebook. In an attempt to see what see what else the social networking world has to offer I looked into Twitter. Twitter is evil. It’s like a couple of webmasters got together and said let’s take the most annoying aspect of Facebook and create an entire site around it. Short, stupid tweets about every mundane moment of life. STOP IT!!! You are too connected!!

I’m wondering what the next step will be. How much more will we be connected in twenty-five years. Will cameras cover every inch of earth such that each of us will have our own online site that will show the world what we are doing every second of the day? I can’t wait to get home from work and watch myself watching myself. Now that’s narcissism!

2/15/09 Shrugs update! I made a few minor changes to the Shrugs page on this site. First, after many complaints of not being able to play the songs I changed the song formats from m4a to mp3. I think this is more universal. Also, pc users can now download the song by right clicking on the link and choosing "Save to Target" You Mac freaks are on your own. I also added a few more demo songs and our Billboard magazine review. I'm still looking to add some pictures. I know there are some out there. I mysteriously misplaced all of mine.

1/12/09 Congratulations to Jim Rice for finally being voted into the baseball hall of fame in his fifteenth and final chance. I can’t believe how nervous I was before yesterday’s 2:00 p.m. announcement. I clicked on the ESPN website at 1:58 and kept hitting the refresh button. I actually felt the butterflies in my stomach usually reserved for playoff games. When the headline announcing that both Rice and Ricky Henderson were heading to the hall of fame appeared on the screen I jumped into the air letting out a cheer that drew the attention of several of my fellow employees.

There has been much debate on the inclusion of Jim Rice amongst the all time greats. Sabermatricians have been manipulating numbers like origami to defend their yea or nay stance. There have been arguments for numbers in the “clean” era versus numbers in the steroid era, numbers that show that between 1975 and 1985 no player in baseball was more of an offensive threat, and numbers that show a rapid decline in his last three years as player. But the number I love most is one, as in the number of major league teams on which Jim Rice played. He came up through the Red Sox farm system, played every game as a member of the Red Sox, retired as a Red Sox, is going into Cooperstown as a member of the Red Sox, and will soon have his number “14” retired and placed on the right filed façade along with the greatest Red Sox of all time. As my buddy Matt so eloquently responded when I texted him the news, “It’s about fuckin’ time!”

12/10/08 Oh my poor disregarded website. It’s been two months since an update. In my defense I told you that you were never meant to be a blog. So you shouldn’t be upset if you can’t run with the big boy blogs or swap spit with the bloglidites who strain their necks to see what I had for breakfast. I don’t remember what I had for breakfast and it’s sad that they would care.

Your job is simple, to host a few photos to prove to friends far and away that I’m still alive, and have the pictures to prove it, and occasionally host simple musings on baseball, home improvement, and the secret to life (which by the way will be revealed at the conclusion of this post).

If you must know I’ve been busy mining the minutia, tripping over the trivial and hurtling the mundane. All this leaves little time for inspiration. I need to be a little inspired to code you up and let you peak inside my head. There have been times I’ve brushed up against inspiration, an exciting presidential election, moments with family and friends that remind me I’m a lucky bastard, but for the most part they give birth to a couple of clever sentences that evaporate somewhere between my driver’s seat and the keyboard.

But don’t you worry. After the start of the new year all the classes and extra projects I’ve assumed lately will be in the books and I’ll be back in the basement staring at the walls and getting inspired. Who knows maybe I’ll even resurrect that song writing career.

Till then my friend relax and enjoy the holidays. And as for the secret to life? Simple: THERE ARE NO SECRETS

10/7/08 98% of baseball is boring, another ball fouled off into the stands, a ground ball to the second baseman or a lazy fly ball to the outfield. If we’re lucky we get four or five plays in a four hour game worthy of a fist pump. Over seven months we invest in the minutia. We check runners at first, step out of the batter’s box and change pitchers, meanwhile stuffing these moments into a big bubble which will hopefully explode releasing its fermented contents of pure joy.

For me a bubble burst after the last out of Lester’s no hitter in May, leaving me dancing in my two square foot rented space in section one of Fenway Park. To paraphrase “A Clockwork Orange” it was the ol’ glorious game in all its gloriosity.

Last night, with the disappointment of a blown lead and the pending drudgery of another cross country trip to Anaheim looming, Jed Lowrie pushed a single past Erick Aybar and the bubble burst again. My dancing spilled out of my living room and onto to my bed to the sleepy amusement of my wife Laura.

It remains to be seen whether more bubbles will burst this season. But while we’re waiting I’ll enjoy this sweet hangover of joy.

9/24/08 This year marks an anniversary of sorts. For 20 years Dan Weddle and I have been camping and hiking Northern New England. Most of these trips were to the White Mountains of New Hampshire. The back ground picture for this site was taken on a hike up Huntington’s Ravine on Mt. Washington. This year’s trip included Kent Wood, a frequent hiking companion, Matt Kilburn, a second timer and the only person I ever saw smoking cigarettes as they climbed the tallest peak in the Northeast, and newbie Rob Rosenthal, an old friend from our Hartford days whom we have recently reconnected with.

Nothing like an 8 hour hike up and down a mountain to remind you that you’re getting old. But temporary aching legs is a small price to pay to experience the beauty that is the White mountains. And the sweetest beer you’ll ever sip is the one (or many) that your exhausted body lifts to your lips while sitting around a campfire.

I’m already looking forward to next summer when we venture into Maine to tackle Mt. Katahdin. Although pictures never really capture the real beauty, I’ve included some from this year and a few from last year’s trip up Mt. Moosilauke in a slide show. I prefer to scroll these pictures rather then present them in a static manner to remind us that life's great moments are fleeting. Enjoy!

8/18/08 Happy Anniversary Laura! One year down, one hundred to go. Thanks for making life beautiful.

8/14/08 I'm 45 with a balky right shoulder, and I haven't thrown a baseball with purpose in decades. But I'm pretty sure I can be a starting pitcher for the Texas Rangers.

7/31/08 Adios Amigo! For Red Sox fans, trade deadline day can be filled with hours of anxious waiting. We pace internet chat rooms like expectant fathers. The Sons of Sam Horn servers smoke as we refresh like gerbils with A.D.D.. This year like last year and the year before that, trade rumors swirled around Manny Ramirez. In years past I had hoped that the deals wouldn’t go through. Aside from Manny’s immense talent there is something fun and charming about having a character like him on your team. But this year was a little different. It became abundantly clear to even the biggest Manny apologists that his act was getting tired. Friction between Manny and the front office made things difficult for the whole team.

When the clock struck 4:00p.m. the headline from Fox Sports was, “Manny Remains with the BoSox”. I was disappointed that the team couldn’t make a move. But just ten minutes later the news broke that a deal had been made that sent Manny to L.A.. Strangely, I was once again disappointed. He’s really gone. The divorce papers have been signed. Elvis has left the building.

And now there’s nothing left to say but, “Thank You Manny”. Thanks for seven and a half years of majestic homers, comical fielding, home plate celebrations and of course two world championship parades. Manny being a Memory. Good Luck my friend. See you in the Hall of Fame.

7/8/08 Drewfest - Hartford! It was a special night (click here for pictures). On June 29th several bands and solo acts got together at Sweet Jane's in Hartford to pay tribute to the late great Drew Glackin. I know that I had previously written about the possibility of a Barking Brains reunion at this event but that was not to be. Instead Dan Weddle had a solo slot and asked me to do one song with him. I'll admit I was a little apprehensive about going up there with just an acoustic guitar and without the wall of drums and electric noise I'm used to hiding behind. But Dan's set and my song seemed to go off without a hitch and the bigger story was the event itself.

So many wonderful and bittersweet aspects of the evening it's hard to know where to begin. But since this was for Drew let's start with the music. Rick Bogdan of the Commuters expressed it best during their set when he said, "I am truly humbled by the amount of talent that has appeared on this stage tonight." From funk, to loud, turn it up to eleven, guitars, to soft fiddles and acoustics the full spectrum of Drew's musical life was represented.

His life was also well represented in familiar faces. Faces I haven't seen in twenty years. Old stalwarts of the Hartford scene whose punk haircuts have been replaced by graying temples and are now arriving with dust clouds of children swirling about their knees. There were video screens playing endless tapes of old Commuter and Monster Band gigs. Which brought me right back to 1986, 36 Lewis Street every Wednesday night to see the Commuters, best cover band in history.

The most touching moment of the evening is when Pete Veru presented Drew's family with his University of Hartford degree. Drew, who had begun college as a music major, had been a few credits short of earning a degree. Pete had convinced the University that Drew's professional experience was enough for them to posthumously award him the degree.

A special thanks to Chappy, Switchy, and everyone else who organized this event. To date there have been Drewfests in Hartford, New York, North Carolina, and two in Texas where Drew was a staple at the yearly music conference "South by SouthWest". And there is yet one more planned in his hometown this September. You are not forgotten brother.

6/23/08 You know the feeling you get at the end of September, the first frost greets your morning commute and you wonder, “where did the summer go?”. In recent years I’ve been getting that feeling in early May. That’s because almost every weekend from April to October is booked. I know it’s almost silly of me to complain, “Oh woe is me, I have friends and family that want to spend time with me. Oh the humanity.” And to be honest at the end of each weekend I usually think, “Wow that was fun, I’m a lucky guy.”

But lately I’ve been having this reoccurring fantasy. No, not the one where I’m the starting right fielder for the Boston Red Sox. And not the one where I’m accepting the Grammy Award for awesomeness in category of Awesome, in which my short, hilarious but slightly political acceptance speech could only be described as “Awesome”. And not even the one that involves me, a hot tub, a bottle of tequila , and the latest hot, fill in the blank, flavor of the month actress from the hot actress factory somewhere in Hollywood, no, no , not the one that manufactures the red heads, the one that makes the blondes, yea, the blondes, with a notarized note in her hand stating that there will be no repercussions from my wife henceforth and throughout perpetuity upon execution of said fantasy. No, not even that one.

My fantasy for the summer has me staying home the entire weekend, going for a short jog in the morning and landscaping my yard the rest of the day. Moving around piles of dirt in the hot sun and sucking back an occasional Corona Light. Is this the big boy version of the little kid sitting in the dirt with his Tonka trucks making those, “Broooooom, brooooom,eeerrrrrrrr” noises? Probably.

As I write I’m looking down the calendar with nervous anticipation. My earth and gravel fantasies might just come true in two short weeks. The 4th of July weekend is near. Three days off from work and surprisingly thus far I have nothing planned. No barbeques, birthdays, or bar mitzvahs. No weddings in far away locations with lost travel days and uncomfortable clothes. This is almost too good to be true. Oh God if it rains I think I’ll cry. Or maybe just stay inside and play with Tonka trucks.

6/5/08 Well I finally put together a page for the Shrugs. Click on the link under "Music". It's still a work in progress. I'll be adding more songs, reviews and pictures. Speaking of pictures, if anyone has any photos from back in the day please forward them over. I'd love to see them and perhaps post them.

5/20/08 I've been fortunate to be at Fenway Park for some truly historic moments; The Varitek - ARod fight, Pedro slamming Zimmer to the ground, a Game 2 World Series win, and four other playoff victories. And in the afterglow of last nights no hitter by Jon Lester I once again reshuffle the deck of favorite memories in the old ball yard. And this time, in the height of the excitment, I wasn't in the beer line! God, I love this place.

5/12/08 Not that I condone violence but if anyone knows who is resposible for those Mohegan Sun commercials that take tired songs from the 70's and make them even worse, well, lets just say beatings would not be unreasonable.

5/8/08 A Barking Brains Reunion??. There will be another tribute show for our late friend Drew Glackin. Dan Weddle has volunteered the services of the Barking Brains, who haven't played together in 16 years. I'm both excited about the idea of getting up there and playing three songs and terrified that we will embarass ourselves. I know if we can actually get together and reherse a few times we can pull it off, but the busy schedules and wingit spirit of my former bandmates has me fearing a suckitude not seen since...um..the first Barking Brains gig.

Friends, family, and fans, we are all brought here today by love. For most of us it is love for the Sox that draws us here. For Dan and Laura it is their love for each other. Like being a Sox fan, marriage is not for the timid. It is not something to take lightly. It requires determination, patience, and devotion. There may be rough times, but the faithful and dedicated will find a lifetime of joy.

Do you, Laura, take Dan, through 20-win seasons and stints on the DL, through lights-out closers and bullpens-by-committee, through wire-to-wire pennants and late-season swoons?

Do you, Dan, take Laura through thirty-game hit streaks and 0-30 slumps, through rain-outs and, blowouts and late-inning rallies and long beer lines?