There are certain performers in the world of classic rock music who are nothing short of icons. Paul McCartney, Mick Jagger, Pete Townshend, Eric Clapton, people like that. Some would argue that the biggest icon of them all is Bob Dylan. Certainly, Dylan has had as much influence on popular music as anyone else has over the last 40 or so years. While I am not a Dylan fanboy, I certainly like a great deal of his music, and respect the man for what he has accomplished.
While I have seen live most of the greats of classic rock, there are a few glaring exceptions. One of those exceptions is Dylan, and I was looking forward with great anticipation to the concert he was to have played in an outdoor spring training stadium in Phoenix tomorrow night. I use the term "was to have played", because this past Friday, the "great one" cancelled the show. He apparently also cancelled his show the next night in Las Vegas. And the reason for the cancellations? The heat. Wait, let me say that again, the heat. The damn heat, for crying out loud!!
I mean, give me a break. It is no secret that it is brutally hot in Phoenix and Las Vegas during the summer, anyone who has ever been to those places can tell you that, not to mention those of us who have lived here for more than a quarter of a century. Plenty of musicians and entertainers come here in the summertime, anyway, knowing full well that it's going to be a hot night. I saw Paul McCartney in a sweltering Sun Devil Stadium on a hot July night in 1990. A few years before that, I saw The Police at Phoenix Giants Stadium (rip) on a night when the temperature hit 115. They both gave tremendous shows. True, at one point, Sting had to stop and drink about a gallon of water, but it didn't affect his performance. Those were two of the best concerts I have ever enjoyed.
Dylan, on the other hand, is simply an arrogant prima donna. It can't possibly be a surprise to him and his entourage that it is hot in Phoenix in August. What in God's name were they thinking? And don't they care in the slightest about the thousands of fans who were looking forward to the show? Don't we count for anything?
I am beyond disgusted. If the heat in Phoenix (and apparently Vegas) was going to be an issue, then why weren't we placed in a different spot on the tour. It's not hot here all year long. Why not play here in April or October? Why dangle the carrot if you're just going to pull it away? Would it have been so difficult to be the slightest bit considerate and schedule the Phoenix show for a cooler time of year?
It's pretty obvious to me that Dylan just doesn't care. Pretty damn arrogant of him, in my humble opinion. So, I tell you what, Bob. You and I are done. I don't buy another pair of tickets, I don't buy any more of your music. You get no more money from this Arizona desert rat. You obviously don't care about me, and I don't need you. Adios, Bob.
Monday, August 10, 2009
Saturday, July 11, 2009
The Desert Island---Part I
I belong to one of those internet social networks, and one of the fun things I did a while back was list my "Desert Island discs", that is, the 15 albums or CD's that I would have to have with me if I was stranded on a desert island. That was so much fun that I figured I would bring the concept over to my blog. Part I is going to list the 10 DVD's that I would have to have with me, then I will list the albums/CD's in Part II, the books in Part III, and toys in Part IV. We'll see how it goes. So, in no particular order, here are the top 10 movies/DVD's that I would need to have with me on my desert island and why:
1. The Godfather
My all-time favorite movie, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you why. I couldn't live out the rest of my life happily if I couldn't experience all over again Marlon Brando uttering the immortal line "I made him an offer he couldn't refuse", Al Pacino making his bones in the Italian restaurant, James Caan having his way with one of the bridesmaids at his sister's wedding, Caan again this time meeting his violent end at the Jones Beach tollbooth, and the superbly done baptism sequence of Carlo and Connie's baby. The best gangster movie ever made and more than worthy of its Academy Awards and legendary status.
2. It's A Wonderful Life
I did a blog entry some months ago about why I identify with George Bailey, so I won't go into it all again. This film is timeless and makes me cry every time I watch it. And consider this, I first showed this film to my stepson and stepdaughter eight years ago. They are now 17 and 14, moody and cynical, and very much a product of their time. Nevertheless, they still insist on seeing this black-and-white, made-in-1946 film every Christmas eve. I think that says it all.
3. The Searchers
Anyone who has ever been cynical about John Wayne should see this film. The Duke does a tremendous job of acting, and actually makes you care about a character who is racist, sexist, violent, and thinks nothing of shooting people in the back. The photography is gorgeous, the story is absorbing, and the entire production is simply beautiful. John Ford, one of the great masters of American cinema, never made a better movie.
4. Pulp Fiction
Many people don't "get" Quentin Tarantino, and I can understand why. This film, however, is simply a masterpiece. With its lopsided chronology, amazing dialogue, fascinating moral dillemas and tremendous acting, the film continues to engage and entertain. Too many unforgettable sequences to name them all, but just a few are: Travolta and Thurman's wonderful dance at Jackrabbit Slim's, Samuel L. Jackson's monologue supposedly quoting the Bible just before he kills Frank Whaley, Bruce Willis and Ving Rhymes meeting up with Zed and his buddies, and the infamous adrenaline shot scene. Dang, I want to go put it in my DVD player right now just thinking about it.
5. JFK
It's sad to see that Oliver Stone has become such a hack, and I admit that the film plays fast and loose with historical fact. Nevertheless, this is an absorbing and endlessly entertaining movie, which never ceases to get me worked up every time I watch it. I don't know if there was a conspiracy to kill JFK by the Mafia, the Cubans, the military, etc. But I certainly don't believe Oswald acted alone, and this film serves to bring out those feelings. Kevin Costner as an extremely fictionalized Jim Garrison, and the rest of the cast, are enthralling. One of the most "cinematic" films ever made.
6. Goodfellas
I love gangster movies, especially when they are done well, and this one is as great as any. I also idolize Martin Scorcese, who has made more great films than most directors. This one is my all-time favorite of his. A relentless, powerful narrative, driven by tremendous performances from Ray Liotta (never better), Robert DeNiro, Paul Sorvino and Academy Award winner Joe Pesci. This is also Scorcese's most inventive film, with freeze frames, slow motion, montages done to rock music and Liotta's narration, and the famous tracking shot of Liotta and Lorraine Bracco entering a nightclub through a back door, walking down hallways, through a busy kitchen, past busboys and chefs and waiters, and finally into the club itself where they are given a makeshift table and chairs right up front. It's all done in one unbroken shot and it is simply amazing.
7. Casablanca
Do I really need to say anything about this movie? Is there anyone out there who doesn't love it? The definitive Bogart performance, the luminous Ingrid Bergman role, the wonderfully sly and corrupt Claude Rains, the creepy Peter Lorre, etc. Probably the most loved film of all time, endlessly watchable and timeless. Here's looking at you, kid.
8. Z
Here's my one personal favorite that most people will probably scratch their heads over. If you've ever seen this film, you understand its power and greatness. But most people today, especially young people, know nothing about Z. A French-made film about a true assassination of a Greek politician, the film is directed by Constantin Costa-Gavras, a wonderful director who has also become almost forgotten today. With a relentless pace and fascinating story, not to mention one of the all-time great movie scores, the story enfolds and engulfs the viewer, eventually leaving you completely worn out. I saw this film for the first time when I was 11 years old in 1969. My cousin and I were both blown away by its power, and it remained my favorite film for most of my life. If you see no other movie I list in this blog entry, make sure to check out Z. You won't regret it.
9. The Manchurian Candidate
Forget about the remake with Denzel Washington, the original is one of the most powerful and wickedly funny political films ever made. The brainwashing sequence, where Frank Sinatra and Laurence Harvey's patrol are made to believe that they are at a ladies social club meeting, is one of the most intense sequences in cinema. The rest of the movie is equally relentless, and while the acting of the leads (Harvey, Sinatra, and the beautiful Janet Leigh) is merely adequate, the performances of the supporting players, especially a terrifying Angela Lansbury as Harvey's evil mother, are tremendous.
10. Paths of Glory
I couldn't be stranded on a desert island without a Kubrick film, and I have always believed that this is his best. While most people would pick a different Kubrick masterpiece (whether it be 2001, Dr. Strangelove, A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, etc.), I feel that this powerful, tight, relentless anti-war film is the most complete film in Kubrick's oeuvre, and the closest he ever got to perfection. The trench warfare scenes are unbelieveable, the set design is magnificent, and the acting is universally solid, including Kirk Douglas in what I believe was his best performance, and Adolph Menjou perfectly capturing all the nuances of a truly evil general. The execution scene is one of the most emotionally wringing sequences in the history of cinema.
And there you have it. The ten movies I simply couldn't live without.
1. The Godfather
My all-time favorite movie, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you why. I couldn't live out the rest of my life happily if I couldn't experience all over again Marlon Brando uttering the immortal line "I made him an offer he couldn't refuse", Al Pacino making his bones in the Italian restaurant, James Caan having his way with one of the bridesmaids at his sister's wedding, Caan again this time meeting his violent end at the Jones Beach tollbooth, and the superbly done baptism sequence of Carlo and Connie's baby. The best gangster movie ever made and more than worthy of its Academy Awards and legendary status.
2. It's A Wonderful Life
I did a blog entry some months ago about why I identify with George Bailey, so I won't go into it all again. This film is timeless and makes me cry every time I watch it. And consider this, I first showed this film to my stepson and stepdaughter eight years ago. They are now 17 and 14, moody and cynical, and very much a product of their time. Nevertheless, they still insist on seeing this black-and-white, made-in-1946 film every Christmas eve. I think that says it all.
3. The Searchers
Anyone who has ever been cynical about John Wayne should see this film. The Duke does a tremendous job of acting, and actually makes you care about a character who is racist, sexist, violent, and thinks nothing of shooting people in the back. The photography is gorgeous, the story is absorbing, and the entire production is simply beautiful. John Ford, one of the great masters of American cinema, never made a better movie.
4. Pulp Fiction
Many people don't "get" Quentin Tarantino, and I can understand why. This film, however, is simply a masterpiece. With its lopsided chronology, amazing dialogue, fascinating moral dillemas and tremendous acting, the film continues to engage and entertain. Too many unforgettable sequences to name them all, but just a few are: Travolta and Thurman's wonderful dance at Jackrabbit Slim's, Samuel L. Jackson's monologue supposedly quoting the Bible just before he kills Frank Whaley, Bruce Willis and Ving Rhymes meeting up with Zed and his buddies, and the infamous adrenaline shot scene. Dang, I want to go put it in my DVD player right now just thinking about it.
5. JFK
It's sad to see that Oliver Stone has become such a hack, and I admit that the film plays fast and loose with historical fact. Nevertheless, this is an absorbing and endlessly entertaining movie, which never ceases to get me worked up every time I watch it. I don't know if there was a conspiracy to kill JFK by the Mafia, the Cubans, the military, etc. But I certainly don't believe Oswald acted alone, and this film serves to bring out those feelings. Kevin Costner as an extremely fictionalized Jim Garrison, and the rest of the cast, are enthralling. One of the most "cinematic" films ever made.
6. Goodfellas
I love gangster movies, especially when they are done well, and this one is as great as any. I also idolize Martin Scorcese, who has made more great films than most directors. This one is my all-time favorite of his. A relentless, powerful narrative, driven by tremendous performances from Ray Liotta (never better), Robert DeNiro, Paul Sorvino and Academy Award winner Joe Pesci. This is also Scorcese's most inventive film, with freeze frames, slow motion, montages done to rock music and Liotta's narration, and the famous tracking shot of Liotta and Lorraine Bracco entering a nightclub through a back door, walking down hallways, through a busy kitchen, past busboys and chefs and waiters, and finally into the club itself where they are given a makeshift table and chairs right up front. It's all done in one unbroken shot and it is simply amazing.
7. Casablanca
Do I really need to say anything about this movie? Is there anyone out there who doesn't love it? The definitive Bogart performance, the luminous Ingrid Bergman role, the wonderfully sly and corrupt Claude Rains, the creepy Peter Lorre, etc. Probably the most loved film of all time, endlessly watchable and timeless. Here's looking at you, kid.
8. Z
Here's my one personal favorite that most people will probably scratch their heads over. If you've ever seen this film, you understand its power and greatness. But most people today, especially young people, know nothing about Z. A French-made film about a true assassination of a Greek politician, the film is directed by Constantin Costa-Gavras, a wonderful director who has also become almost forgotten today. With a relentless pace and fascinating story, not to mention one of the all-time great movie scores, the story enfolds and engulfs the viewer, eventually leaving you completely worn out. I saw this film for the first time when I was 11 years old in 1969. My cousin and I were both blown away by its power, and it remained my favorite film for most of my life. If you see no other movie I list in this blog entry, make sure to check out Z. You won't regret it.
9. The Manchurian Candidate
Forget about the remake with Denzel Washington, the original is one of the most powerful and wickedly funny political films ever made. The brainwashing sequence, where Frank Sinatra and Laurence Harvey's patrol are made to believe that they are at a ladies social club meeting, is one of the most intense sequences in cinema. The rest of the movie is equally relentless, and while the acting of the leads (Harvey, Sinatra, and the beautiful Janet Leigh) is merely adequate, the performances of the supporting players, especially a terrifying Angela Lansbury as Harvey's evil mother, are tremendous.
10. Paths of Glory
I couldn't be stranded on a desert island without a Kubrick film, and I have always believed that this is his best. While most people would pick a different Kubrick masterpiece (whether it be 2001, Dr. Strangelove, A Clockwork Orange, The Shining, etc.), I feel that this powerful, tight, relentless anti-war film is the most complete film in Kubrick's oeuvre, and the closest he ever got to perfection. The trench warfare scenes are unbelieveable, the set design is magnificent, and the acting is universally solid, including Kirk Douglas in what I believe was his best performance, and Adolph Menjou perfectly capturing all the nuances of a truly evil general. The execution scene is one of the most emotionally wringing sequences in the history of cinema.
And there you have it. The ten movies I simply couldn't live without.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Reaching a Poker Milestone
Every time I am in Las Vegas, I make sure to play at least one poker tournament at the Sahara. This is where I played in my first poker tournament four and a half years ago. The buy-in is cheap, the structure is fair, and the tournaments are usually filled with good players.
Last night, I played in the 11:00 p.m. tournament. Even though we are not staying at the Sahara, going over there to play in the tournament is like coming home, someplace that has become so familiar and comforting that it feels like I belong there. Despite that, I have never made the final table at the Sahara. I've come tantalizingly close a number of times, but never quite made it over the hump.
Until last night, or rather I should say, this morning. I started off well, playing my usual game, not entering a whole lot of pots, waiting for good starting hands. When I did enter the pot, I played aggressively. At the first break, I had built my stack from four thousand chips to fifteen thousand. I didn't even bother to do a re-buy.
As the game wore on, I would move down in chips and then come up with a big hand to stay afloat. With the blinds at 400/800, I limped in with KQ offsuit. No one raised. The flop came KQ7, rainbow. One guy bet out 2000 chips, I raised when it got to me. Everyone else folded, he re-raised me all in, and I called. This guy inexplicably had K4, obviously thinking he had the nuts (the best hand). Wrong. I knocked him out and doubled my stack.
Much later in the tournament, there was about 14 players left, and I was scuffling not to get knocked out. I looked down at KJ suited in hearts. The player to the right of me went all-in. It was the best starting hand I had seen in a while, so I did the same thing. The big stack at the table, a complete donkey who went all in with any two cards, also went all in. The guy to the right of me had K10, and the donkey had Q10. No queen or 10 showed up, so I won a huge pot and tripled up.
From there, I managed to hold on until the decent cards stopped coming and I began to get blinded out. My last stand was pathetic as I was forced to go all in with only a 45 suited. Not surprisingly, I lost (to only a 10-5) and I got knocked out in 6th place. It was 3:50 a.m. You know you've done well and earned respect when you make a final table, get knocked out, and the other players shake your hand as you get up to leave. I didn't feel bad whatsoever when I got knocked out. I would have loved to win the whole thing, but it was just not going to happen. I felt triumphant, satisfied, and very, very tired.
The irony of this whole thing is that right now, they are playing the World Series of Poker down the street at the Rio. My game has gotten so good and my confidence is so high right now that I wish I had the opportunity to play there this year, I really think I could have done well. I long to get back to the WSOP, and it has become my dream and my goal. Oh well, maybe next year.
For today, I find great comfort in the fact that, after many, many attempts, I have finally made a final table at the Sahara. Yeah, baby!!!
Last night, I played in the 11:00 p.m. tournament. Even though we are not staying at the Sahara, going over there to play in the tournament is like coming home, someplace that has become so familiar and comforting that it feels like I belong there. Despite that, I have never made the final table at the Sahara. I've come tantalizingly close a number of times, but never quite made it over the hump.
Until last night, or rather I should say, this morning. I started off well, playing my usual game, not entering a whole lot of pots, waiting for good starting hands. When I did enter the pot, I played aggressively. At the first break, I had built my stack from four thousand chips to fifteen thousand. I didn't even bother to do a re-buy.
As the game wore on, I would move down in chips and then come up with a big hand to stay afloat. With the blinds at 400/800, I limped in with KQ offsuit. No one raised. The flop came KQ7, rainbow. One guy bet out 2000 chips, I raised when it got to me. Everyone else folded, he re-raised me all in, and I called. This guy inexplicably had K4, obviously thinking he had the nuts (the best hand). Wrong. I knocked him out and doubled my stack.
Much later in the tournament, there was about 14 players left, and I was scuffling not to get knocked out. I looked down at KJ suited in hearts. The player to the right of me went all-in. It was the best starting hand I had seen in a while, so I did the same thing. The big stack at the table, a complete donkey who went all in with any two cards, also went all in. The guy to the right of me had K10, and the donkey had Q10. No queen or 10 showed up, so I won a huge pot and tripled up.
From there, I managed to hold on until the decent cards stopped coming and I began to get blinded out. My last stand was pathetic as I was forced to go all in with only a 45 suited. Not surprisingly, I lost (to only a 10-5) and I got knocked out in 6th place. It was 3:50 a.m. You know you've done well and earned respect when you make a final table, get knocked out, and the other players shake your hand as you get up to leave. I didn't feel bad whatsoever when I got knocked out. I would have loved to win the whole thing, but it was just not going to happen. I felt triumphant, satisfied, and very, very tired.
The irony of this whole thing is that right now, they are playing the World Series of Poker down the street at the Rio. My game has gotten so good and my confidence is so high right now that I wish I had the opportunity to play there this year, I really think I could have done well. I long to get back to the WSOP, and it has become my dream and my goal. Oh well, maybe next year.
For today, I find great comfort in the fact that, after many, many attempts, I have finally made a final table at the Sahara. Yeah, baby!!!
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Nickel Bag Joe and Candy Andy
I live in Maricopa County, the third largest county by population in the nation. Basically, it encompasses the Phoenix metropolitan area. Phoenix is now the fifth largest city in the nation, with a metro area of probably close to five million people. It is by and large a conservative strongpoint, with a long history of Conservative leaders with names like Goldwater, Rhenquist and McCain.
It should be a place which celebrates diversity and cultural significance. Instead, it is more and more becoming a police state ruled by two despicable, petty tyrants. Nickel Bag Joe is the alternative media's nickname for County Sheriff Joe Arpaio. The self-proclaimed "toughest sheriff in the country", notorious for his Tent City jails, where convicted DUI offenders do their ten days in custody in large canvas tents, broiling in the 115 degree heat while they feast on green bologna sandwiches. They're criminals, right? We shouldn't care about them, right? That's what Nickel Bag Joe is always telling us.
Joe's latest crusade is a self-declared war on illegal immigrants. He has conducted sweeps of Hispanic neighborhoods, arresting illegals and citizens alike, while sorting out the mess later. His storm troopers recently raided the Mesa City Hall building on a fool's errand to arrest so-called illegal immigrants seeking refuge in the building. The reality was there were two illegal immigrants as part of the overnight work crew cleaning the building, but that didn't stop Joe from putting a force together of over 40 sheriff's deputies, who stormed the building during business hours, and detained both employees and citizens alike for no reason whatsoever.
Joe's buddy is Candy Andy, otherwise known as County Attorney Andrew Thomas. Thomas is an ultra-right wing Conservative, who has supported Arapaio to the point of attacking the judiciary. Thomas has declared war on the judges of Maricopa County Superior Court, and is notorious for refusing to show any discretion on cases whatsoever and prosecuting innocent people. Recently, a young black driver was hit by another car, driven by a 19 year-old rich white girl from Scottsdale, who had been drinking all day and was nearly three times over the legal limit. There was no question that she caused the accident, and one of her passengers was killed. The black driver fled the scene, admittedly a major mistake on his part, and he found himself charged with negligent homicide, although he was completely sober, had not caused the accident, and was the driver who had been hit by the other vehicle. The rich white girl? She was only charged with a DUI in municipal court. The media exploded over the case, but Nickel Bag Joe stuck by his deputies' "investigation", and Candy Andy prosecuted the case to the hilt. After two weeks in trial, the black driver was acquitted of all charges except for leaving the scene of an accident, a misdemeanor. He spent a year in jail waiting for his case to come to trial, feasting on Joe's green bologna.
Phoenix has a very brave alternative newspaper, the Phoenix New Times. They did a series of articles on Joe and Andy, very critical and very well-researched. They brought up questions about Joe's million-dollar home, supposedly purchased on his county salary. They questioned land deals, and speculative real estate transactions. What they got for their efforts was a subpoena from Andy and Joe, demanding financial records of the paper, of the paper's founder and chief editor, and get this, email addresses of every one who has ever logged onto the paper's website. That's right, any person who dared to read the New Times online would now be on a list shared by Joe and Andy. Are you kidding me? Is this still America?
The two head honchos at the New Times were outraged by the subpoena and published it online. The result of that was their arrests during the middle of the night, by about a dozen sheriff's deputies each. It must have been the first time in American history that two journalists were arrested in the dead of night by a raiding squad of a dozen deputies and taken to jail for a misdemeanor. It was all over the media the next day, even making the national media, and by the end of the day, Candy Andy called a press conference, blaming the "error" on one of his lackeys, and stated that the charges would be dismissed, and the journalists released.
The real horror of the Joe and Andy show lies in what happens inside Joe's jails. Scores of people have been seriously injured, and even killed, inside the jails. Security and protection are a joke, and the taxpayers have been forced to foot the bill for the numerous wrongful death and abuse lawsuits filed by enraged citizens. I understand that people who drive drunk are a menace and need to serve their time, but do they do deserve to be killed or seriously beaten? One horror story I have read told about a mentally handicapped young man, falsely accused of aggravated assault, who was beaten and eventually killed by other inmates, all under the watchful eyes of Joe's henchmen. After the horrifying murder, the County Attorney's Office admitted that the young man was innocent, the initial crime was committed by another person, and the young man should never have been arrested in the first place. I'll bet his parents felt real good hearing that.
The frightening thing is that Arpaio and Thomas are seemingly untouchable. They do what they want, when they want, and no one has the stones to stop them. We keep waiting for the federal government to step in and stop this horrifying abuse of power, but it never happens. And, of course, the conservative yahoo voters of this county recently re-elected these two monsters. It's simply unbelieveable.
Welcome to Phoenix.
It should be a place which celebrates diversity and cultural significance. Instead, it is more and more becoming a police state ruled by two despicable, petty tyrants. Nickel Bag Joe is the alternative media's nickname for County Sheriff Joe Arpaio. The self-proclaimed "toughest sheriff in the country", notorious for his Tent City jails, where convicted DUI offenders do their ten days in custody in large canvas tents, broiling in the 115 degree heat while they feast on green bologna sandwiches. They're criminals, right? We shouldn't care about them, right? That's what Nickel Bag Joe is always telling us.
Joe's latest crusade is a self-declared war on illegal immigrants. He has conducted sweeps of Hispanic neighborhoods, arresting illegals and citizens alike, while sorting out the mess later. His storm troopers recently raided the Mesa City Hall building on a fool's errand to arrest so-called illegal immigrants seeking refuge in the building. The reality was there were two illegal immigrants as part of the overnight work crew cleaning the building, but that didn't stop Joe from putting a force together of over 40 sheriff's deputies, who stormed the building during business hours, and detained both employees and citizens alike for no reason whatsoever.
Joe's buddy is Candy Andy, otherwise known as County Attorney Andrew Thomas. Thomas is an ultra-right wing Conservative, who has supported Arapaio to the point of attacking the judiciary. Thomas has declared war on the judges of Maricopa County Superior Court, and is notorious for refusing to show any discretion on cases whatsoever and prosecuting innocent people. Recently, a young black driver was hit by another car, driven by a 19 year-old rich white girl from Scottsdale, who had been drinking all day and was nearly three times over the legal limit. There was no question that she caused the accident, and one of her passengers was killed. The black driver fled the scene, admittedly a major mistake on his part, and he found himself charged with negligent homicide, although he was completely sober, had not caused the accident, and was the driver who had been hit by the other vehicle. The rich white girl? She was only charged with a DUI in municipal court. The media exploded over the case, but Nickel Bag Joe stuck by his deputies' "investigation", and Candy Andy prosecuted the case to the hilt. After two weeks in trial, the black driver was acquitted of all charges except for leaving the scene of an accident, a misdemeanor. He spent a year in jail waiting for his case to come to trial, feasting on Joe's green bologna.
Phoenix has a very brave alternative newspaper, the Phoenix New Times. They did a series of articles on Joe and Andy, very critical and very well-researched. They brought up questions about Joe's million-dollar home, supposedly purchased on his county salary. They questioned land deals, and speculative real estate transactions. What they got for their efforts was a subpoena from Andy and Joe, demanding financial records of the paper, of the paper's founder and chief editor, and get this, email addresses of every one who has ever logged onto the paper's website. That's right, any person who dared to read the New Times online would now be on a list shared by Joe and Andy. Are you kidding me? Is this still America?
The two head honchos at the New Times were outraged by the subpoena and published it online. The result of that was their arrests during the middle of the night, by about a dozen sheriff's deputies each. It must have been the first time in American history that two journalists were arrested in the dead of night by a raiding squad of a dozen deputies and taken to jail for a misdemeanor. It was all over the media the next day, even making the national media, and by the end of the day, Candy Andy called a press conference, blaming the "error" on one of his lackeys, and stated that the charges would be dismissed, and the journalists released.
The real horror of the Joe and Andy show lies in what happens inside Joe's jails. Scores of people have been seriously injured, and even killed, inside the jails. Security and protection are a joke, and the taxpayers have been forced to foot the bill for the numerous wrongful death and abuse lawsuits filed by enraged citizens. I understand that people who drive drunk are a menace and need to serve their time, but do they do deserve to be killed or seriously beaten? One horror story I have read told about a mentally handicapped young man, falsely accused of aggravated assault, who was beaten and eventually killed by other inmates, all under the watchful eyes of Joe's henchmen. After the horrifying murder, the County Attorney's Office admitted that the young man was innocent, the initial crime was committed by another person, and the young man should never have been arrested in the first place. I'll bet his parents felt real good hearing that.
The frightening thing is that Arpaio and Thomas are seemingly untouchable. They do what they want, when they want, and no one has the stones to stop them. We keep waiting for the federal government to step in and stop this horrifying abuse of power, but it never happens. And, of course, the conservative yahoo voters of this county recently re-elected these two monsters. It's simply unbelieveable.
Welcome to Phoenix.
Sunday, April 5, 2009
For the second year in a row.....
I've gotten one of the best birthday presents I could wish for, a Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band concert. Last year, I had to go to Anaheim for it, and when I got back to the hotel, the clock struck midnight, and I was 50 years old. This year, Bruce actually came to Phoenix, or Glendale, to be precise, and my birthday won't be until Wednesday. No matter, an early birthday present like this is just fine.
If I am going to be 51, that means Bruce Springsteen is going to be 59 and frankly, I just don't see how he does it. He performed for two hours and forty-five minutes Friday night, without an intermission. He sang, he played guitar, he prowled the stage, he came out into the audience, he slid on the stage and in general, performed his ass off. The man is simply incredible, and so is his band.
The setlist was eclectic, with five songs from the new album, some old warhorses (Badlands, Promised Land, Born to Run, Out in the Street), three songs from The Rising, and a bunch of tunes I never thought I would hear again (Seeds, Johnny 99, Downbound Train). He took requests, and treated us to blistering versions of Because the Night and Rosalita. He once again transformed The Ghost of Tom Joad into a blistering, powerful piece of musical drama, with Nils Lofgren shining on a wonderful guitar solo. Outlaw Pete, from the new album, was turned into an audio/visual epic with projected video of Monument Valley scrawling across the screen behind the band. I didn't want it to end.
The band is as tight and powerful as ever. Lofgren and violinist Soozie Tyrell are featured predominantly in this setlist and they did not disappoint. The Mighty Max Weinberg on drums (taking a sabbatical from the Conan O'Brien show) and Gary Tallent on bass are still one of the best rhythm sections in all of rock. Professor Roy Bittan can still tinkle the ivories, and new keyboardist Charlie Giordano did a fine job filling in for the late Danny Federici. The Big Man may be older and frailer, but he can still crank out the sax solos, and is still beloved by the legions of Bruce fans. Bruce's foil on stage is once again Little Steven Van Zandt, and although I can never look at him any longer without thinking of The Sopranos, Steve was great throughout. All in all, the E Street Band remains one of the most talented rock bands still performing.
So once again, for the second year in a row, all I can say is thank you, Bruce, for a fantastic birthday present. And thanks for allowing me to merely drive across town, and allow my wife, brother, sister, and sister-in-law to join me, instead of forcing me to drive 400 miles to the Land of the Mouse to experience you and the band. Not that there was anything wrong with that.
If I am going to be 51, that means Bruce Springsteen is going to be 59 and frankly, I just don't see how he does it. He performed for two hours and forty-five minutes Friday night, without an intermission. He sang, he played guitar, he prowled the stage, he came out into the audience, he slid on the stage and in general, performed his ass off. The man is simply incredible, and so is his band.
The setlist was eclectic, with five songs from the new album, some old warhorses (Badlands, Promised Land, Born to Run, Out in the Street), three songs from The Rising, and a bunch of tunes I never thought I would hear again (Seeds, Johnny 99, Downbound Train). He took requests, and treated us to blistering versions of Because the Night and Rosalita. He once again transformed The Ghost of Tom Joad into a blistering, powerful piece of musical drama, with Nils Lofgren shining on a wonderful guitar solo. Outlaw Pete, from the new album, was turned into an audio/visual epic with projected video of Monument Valley scrawling across the screen behind the band. I didn't want it to end.
The band is as tight and powerful as ever. Lofgren and violinist Soozie Tyrell are featured predominantly in this setlist and they did not disappoint. The Mighty Max Weinberg on drums (taking a sabbatical from the Conan O'Brien show) and Gary Tallent on bass are still one of the best rhythm sections in all of rock. Professor Roy Bittan can still tinkle the ivories, and new keyboardist Charlie Giordano did a fine job filling in for the late Danny Federici. The Big Man may be older and frailer, but he can still crank out the sax solos, and is still beloved by the legions of Bruce fans. Bruce's foil on stage is once again Little Steven Van Zandt, and although I can never look at him any longer without thinking of The Sopranos, Steve was great throughout. All in all, the E Street Band remains one of the most talented rock bands still performing.
So once again, for the second year in a row, all I can say is thank you, Bruce, for a fantastic birthday present. And thanks for allowing me to merely drive across town, and allow my wife, brother, sister, and sister-in-law to join me, instead of forcing me to drive 400 miles to the Land of the Mouse to experience you and the band. Not that there was anything wrong with that.
Monday, March 23, 2009
The NCAA Tournament
There are several reasons why the NCAA Tournament is one of the biggest sporting events of the year. First, there is the fact that 65 teams make the field every year, including the conference champions of every Division I conference in the country. That's why a college such as Cleveland State, which would never seriously be in the discussion of the national championship, gets to enter and try to run the table. The result is a tremendous build-up of fan interest all over the country. Second, there are the bracket pools. Everyone and their brother fills out a bracket and enters an office pool, convinced that this year they will be the grand winner. And every year, the pool is won by some non-fan who picks the winners based on their nicknames, or mascots, or where he/she went to college/grew up/got married/honeymooned, etc. etc. The resulting interest in this tournament by the non-sports fan has resulted in a complete explosion of this sporting event's popularity.
Most colleges or universities are located in small towns or medium-sized cities, and not the major urban centers. Sure, there are plenty of major colleges and universities in the great cities of this country, but most are elsewhere. Which is why places like Tucson, Arizona, Durham, North Carolina, and Lawrence, Kansas live for this tournament. It has truly become one of the great American spectacles. And with that introduction, let me post a few words about this year's tournament.
I think this is the first time since the tournament expanded to 64/65 teams that every single number one, two, and three seed won their first two games and landed in the Sweet Sixteen. If nothing else, that's a testament to the fantastic job done by this year's Selection Committee. Every year, the Committee comes under fire for some of their selections. This year, the biggest criticism came for the inclusion of my beloved Arizona Wildcats, an appearance which kept alive the Cats' streak of consecutive tournament appearances at 25 years, the second-longest streak in NCAA history. Even yours truly initially questioned the decision, although once I examined the schedule and the impressive wins over some quality top-25 teams (Kansas, Gonzaga, Washington, UCLA), I agreed with their inclusion. And the Cats have made good on that decision, dominating a tough Utah team in the first round and beating a very game Cleveland State team (which in turn had ousted Wake Forrest in the first round). The Wildcats never trailed in either game and won both by double digits. Not bad for a 12th seed, the only one still standing. Not only that, the Pac-10 sent six teams to the Big Dance this year, and the only one left is the Arizona Wildcats. So there, Dick Vitale, put that in your pipe and smoke it, I guess you were wrong, although you'll never admit it.
Syracuse looks like a Final Four team. They disposed of a very tough Arizona State team pretty handily, and made James Harden, the Pac-10 player of the year, a complete non-factor. It wouldn't surprise me if at least two, and maybe three, Big East teams made the Final Four. Any of the group of Connecticut, Syracuse, Pittsburgh, or Villanova are good enough to get there.
It's no longer an upset or a Cinderella story to see Gonzaga once again in the Sweet Sixteen. Mark Few has built a dynasty at this little school in Washington state. They have a tough draw with North Carolina, but they just might pull off the upset. However, with Ty Law back in action, UNC has to be one of the favorites to make it to the Final Four. The Zags will have their hands full.
Connecticut seems to be the best all-around team. They are playing in the West Regional in Phoenix (or Glendale, to be exact), and the last two times they did that, they won the National Championship. On paper, they seem way too much for Purdue to handle, and should then beat the winner of the Missouri-Memphis game.
The East Regional could feature a regional final pitting Big East Conference foes Pittsburgh and Villanova, although you can never underestimate Coach K's (I refuse to try to spell his full name) Duke Blue Devils. Despite their pedigree, I think Villanova gets past them. Assuming Pitt beats Xavier, the resulting Pitt-Villanova game should be a dogfight. Flip a coin, I won't even try to predict who would win that game, although my bracket says Villanova.
Then there's the Midwest Regional. My heart says the Arizona Wildcats will upset Louisville, and then the winner of Michigan State-Kansas. There's even precedent for it, in 1997, the Wildcats were the fifth place team in the Pac-10 conference regular season, and then knocked off the number one team in that tournament (Kansas) in the Sweet Sixteen on their way to their only national championship. Of course, my brain says "what have you been smoking?" I actually think the Cinderella story of the Wildcats will end on Friday, while Michigan State will upset Kansas, only to lose to Louisville. My Final Four prediction is Louisville, Connecticut, Villanova and North Carolina, with Louisville beating North Carolina in the Championship game. Too bad I didn't submit that bracket in any office pool.
Most colleges or universities are located in small towns or medium-sized cities, and not the major urban centers. Sure, there are plenty of major colleges and universities in the great cities of this country, but most are elsewhere. Which is why places like Tucson, Arizona, Durham, North Carolina, and Lawrence, Kansas live for this tournament. It has truly become one of the great American spectacles. And with that introduction, let me post a few words about this year's tournament.
I think this is the first time since the tournament expanded to 64/65 teams that every single number one, two, and three seed won their first two games and landed in the Sweet Sixteen. If nothing else, that's a testament to the fantastic job done by this year's Selection Committee. Every year, the Committee comes under fire for some of their selections. This year, the biggest criticism came for the inclusion of my beloved Arizona Wildcats, an appearance which kept alive the Cats' streak of consecutive tournament appearances at 25 years, the second-longest streak in NCAA history. Even yours truly initially questioned the decision, although once I examined the schedule and the impressive wins over some quality top-25 teams (Kansas, Gonzaga, Washington, UCLA), I agreed with their inclusion. And the Cats have made good on that decision, dominating a tough Utah team in the first round and beating a very game Cleveland State team (which in turn had ousted Wake Forrest in the first round). The Wildcats never trailed in either game and won both by double digits. Not bad for a 12th seed, the only one still standing. Not only that, the Pac-10 sent six teams to the Big Dance this year, and the only one left is the Arizona Wildcats. So there, Dick Vitale, put that in your pipe and smoke it, I guess you were wrong, although you'll never admit it.
Syracuse looks like a Final Four team. They disposed of a very tough Arizona State team pretty handily, and made James Harden, the Pac-10 player of the year, a complete non-factor. It wouldn't surprise me if at least two, and maybe three, Big East teams made the Final Four. Any of the group of Connecticut, Syracuse, Pittsburgh, or Villanova are good enough to get there.
It's no longer an upset or a Cinderella story to see Gonzaga once again in the Sweet Sixteen. Mark Few has built a dynasty at this little school in Washington state. They have a tough draw with North Carolina, but they just might pull off the upset. However, with Ty Law back in action, UNC has to be one of the favorites to make it to the Final Four. The Zags will have their hands full.
Connecticut seems to be the best all-around team. They are playing in the West Regional in Phoenix (or Glendale, to be exact), and the last two times they did that, they won the National Championship. On paper, they seem way too much for Purdue to handle, and should then beat the winner of the Missouri-Memphis game.
The East Regional could feature a regional final pitting Big East Conference foes Pittsburgh and Villanova, although you can never underestimate Coach K's (I refuse to try to spell his full name) Duke Blue Devils. Despite their pedigree, I think Villanova gets past them. Assuming Pitt beats Xavier, the resulting Pitt-Villanova game should be a dogfight. Flip a coin, I won't even try to predict who would win that game, although my bracket says Villanova.
Then there's the Midwest Regional. My heart says the Arizona Wildcats will upset Louisville, and then the winner of Michigan State-Kansas. There's even precedent for it, in 1997, the Wildcats were the fifth place team in the Pac-10 conference regular season, and then knocked off the number one team in that tournament (Kansas) in the Sweet Sixteen on their way to their only national championship. Of course, my brain says "what have you been smoking?" I actually think the Cinderella story of the Wildcats will end on Friday, while Michigan State will upset Kansas, only to lose to Louisville. My Final Four prediction is Louisville, Connecticut, Villanova and North Carolina, with Louisville beating North Carolina in the Championship game. Too bad I didn't submit that bracket in any office pool.
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Happy Birthday
Today we are celebrating the bicentennial of the birth of one of the greatest Americans, one of my all-time heroes, and the man I believe was the greatest American president, Abraham Lincoln. Everyone knows Lincoln's story, and everyone knows about his presidency. We can only imagine what our country would be like today if not for Lincoln; two separate Americas, side by side, or would further strife have created more civil wars, and even more smaller nation-states? How much longer would it have taken to end slavery, and how much more bloodshed would that have cost?
One of the issues I hear about today is the deconstruction of the Lincoln myth, and I like that a great deal. Lincoln wasn't saintly or God-like, he was a man, nothing more. He didn't like black people and definitely thought they were inferior to whites, but he was adamantly opposed to any person being owned by any other person. He made mistakes, and his suspension of habeas corpus during the Civil War would probably have gotten him impeached today. He was far from perfect, but he was a man of ideals, and principles, and he wasn't afraid to stand up for what is right. He saved the Union, and for that he shall always be honored and revered.
One of my favorite places to visit in Washington is the Lincoln Memorial. Every time I've been there, I've been awestruck by the statue. A feeling comes over me that can't be described, and I'm not the only one, people speak in hushed tones while they are there, and I have often seen people cry as they look up at Lincoln's face. It is hallowed ground.
183 years after Lincoln was born, another significant birth took place on this day, not one that is known by many people and certainly not one that is celebrated by the nation, but one that is important to me.
Happy Birthday, Abe. Happy Birthday, Jennifer.
One of the issues I hear about today is the deconstruction of the Lincoln myth, and I like that a great deal. Lincoln wasn't saintly or God-like, he was a man, nothing more. He didn't like black people and definitely thought they were inferior to whites, but he was adamantly opposed to any person being owned by any other person. He made mistakes, and his suspension of habeas corpus during the Civil War would probably have gotten him impeached today. He was far from perfect, but he was a man of ideals, and principles, and he wasn't afraid to stand up for what is right. He saved the Union, and for that he shall always be honored and revered.
One of my favorite places to visit in Washington is the Lincoln Memorial. Every time I've been there, I've been awestruck by the statue. A feeling comes over me that can't be described, and I'm not the only one, people speak in hushed tones while they are there, and I have often seen people cry as they look up at Lincoln's face. It is hallowed ground.
183 years after Lincoln was born, another significant birth took place on this day, not one that is known by many people and certainly not one that is celebrated by the nation, but one that is important to me.
Happy Birthday, Abe. Happy Birthday, Jennifer.
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