Ticketmaster sucks

So I went to the Ticketmaster website tonight to get tickets for Jem’s latest attempt to play Indy on November 1st. (I’m hoping the third time’s a charm and she manages to perform her show instead of cancelling.) Anyway, I started pricing it out, and once Ticketmaster adds in all their fees and service charges, two $12 tickets end up costing $35. Now I’m no math whiz, but it seems to me I would basically be paying the price of a third ticket just to buy the tickets online instead of driving to the venue where there’s no service charges. Well, thanks for the "convenience" Ticketmaster, but you can bite me. Gas prices may be bad and it may be 20 minutes out of my way, but I think I’d still prefer ponying up for the drive to getting raped.

A History of Violence

Well, I didn’t love it. I didn’t hate it either. I’m still trying to decide exactly what I felt overall, but my first impressions were: it was a little predictable, none of the actors blew me away (except maybe Ed Harris), and Howard Shore’s score was very disappointing. Certainly didn’t seem worthy of a standing O at Cannes, but hey, the French are the French. I definitely didn’t hate it as much as the people one row behind, who called it “the dumbest f---ing movie ever.” In fact, I didn’t feel strongly about it either way, and I think that’s what bothers me. Sure, it was a more interesting way to spend an evening than sitting around my apartment, but I feel no compulsion to see this film again. I was really hoping for a lot more.

On movie etiquette: here’s a couple of tips for when you head to the theater. Do not, I repeat, do not bring a four-year-old to an R-rated movie, even one that starts at 7:30 pm, and expect them to sit quietly. Setting aside the fact that you’re an incredibly irresponsible parent for exposing them to some very graphic violence, you can’t get upset when they ask questions like, “Why is he hurting her, Mommy?” during a sex scene. You’re not allowed get upset, but the people sitting around you sure are.

And for the love of God, if you have a persistent cough that produces enough phlegm to fill a large cup, don’t come to the movie theater and ruin the experience for everyone else. Take a night off. Cough up your lung in the privacy of your own home, take some Nyquil, and wait a few days until you’re better to go see the movie. It’ll still be there next weekend.

More music

Ahh, the library. So much free music, so little hard drive space... Made a run through the CD section on Saturday, and I was apparently in the mood for some completely different sounds, because everything I checked out ended up being either rap or jazz. Still processing a lot of it, but it made for a nice change of musical pace this weekend. Here’s what I picked up:

Atmosphere, Headshots: Seven
Del tha Funkee Homosapien, Both Sides of the Brain
Blackalicious, Nia
Lyrics Born, Same !@#$, Different Day
Latryx, The Album
Thelonious Monk, Thelonious Himself
Charles Mingus, Ken Burns Jazz
Charles Mingus, Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus Mingus (remastered)
John Scofield, Works for Me

Got passes today to a preview of Viggo Mortenson’s new flick, A History of Violence, tomorrow night. I’ll have a review later in the week. I’ve got high expectations for this one. The preview looks great, and it was very well-received at Cannes.

Desert island discs

So between all the Lost buzz and the news that someone may have discovered Atlantis, I’ve had islands on the brain this week. Being slightly music-obsessed, that got me to thinking about the age-old question, “If you could only have five albums with you on a desert island, what would you take?” Well, three of these are no-brainers for me. The other two I had to think about a little more, but not too much. Despite the fact that I’m nearing 15,000 songs in my iTunes collection (which roughly translates to 1,500 albums), I can still pretty easily pick my five most-precious discs. As a side note, it’s weird how my thinking has changed over the past two years. For a long time, I measured my music collection by how many CDs I owned. But since I’ve gone almost completely digital, now I measure in songs and gigabytes. Anyway, here’s my list:

Riverside, One
Four guys from small-town Pennsylvania get together and create the best album of British shoe-gazing mope rock that I’ve ever heard. This is, quite simply, the most beautiful rock album I own, and every time I listen to it, it puts me in a good mood. Every song follows pretty much the same pattern: textured vocals and chiming guitars, sometime with underlying strings. The tempo may change from song to song, but the quality doesn’t. This is an easy choice as my all-time favorite. Sadly, Riverside broke up in the early 90’s before making a follow-up. I’ve heard they reunited recently and may have finally recorded that next disc, but I’m afraid to listen to it. I don’t want to taint the purity of One.

The Dave Brubeck Quartet, Time Out!
Outside of the Sesame Street Christmas Album, this is the first strong music memory I have. My dad had this record, and I remember being absolutely haunted by the opening strains of “Take Five” every time Dad would spin the disc. To this day, the opening bars with the cymbal and brushed snare give me chills, especially when the bouncy piano line comes in. Dave Brubeck made this album to experiment with different time signatures, and as I’ve gotten older, I've come to appreciate it on that level (and many others). But there’s something in these songs that just hits me in exactly the right spot, and I can’t imagine never being able to hear it again, so it’s an obvious desert island choice. Someday, when I get around to writing my will, I’m going to ask that “Take Five’ is played at my funeral. After the bagpiper’s done playing “Amazing Grace,’ that is.

The Beatles, Revolver
It’s impossible to imagine being stranded without the Fab Four. The only way to improve this selection is if I could make it a double album by adding Rubber Soul. Fantastic songs straight through, with lots of different moods. “Taxman.” “Eleanor Rigby.” “Yellow Submarine.” “Good Day Sunshine.” Just the thing for when “I’m Only Sleeping” the day away on a deserted beach.

John Williams and the London Symphony Orchestra, Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace Soundtrack
Sometimes when I go for a long run, I load my iPod Shuffle with nothing but this album, because I know I’m guaranteed at least 6 or 7 adrenaline rushes during the course of my run. Far and away the best part of this movie, this soundtrack is the pinnacle of John Williams’ work for me. He takes 20-year-old themes that are some of the best-known pieces of music in the world and manages to make them sound fresh and new. The introduction of choral passages makes for some pretty powerful music, but the ultimate geek moment for me is the self-referential introduction of a few bars of “The Imperial March” at the end of “Anakin’s Theme,” an ominous musical hint of what’s to come at the end of a light and airy piece of music. Every time I listen, I hear something new. And that, to me, is the mark of a masterpiece.

Fountains of Wayne, Utopia Parkway
And we’ll close with some power pop. I suppose I would say FoW are my favorite band, and this album has it all: upbeat rockers, power ballads, love, loss, and snarky, self-deprecating lyrics. But best of all, it's a concept album about growing up in New Jersey. Chris Collingwood and Adam Schlesinger lyrically create a perfect snapshot of summers during high school. It’s impossible for me to hear “It Must Be Summer” or “Prom Theme” and not instantly be taken back to my last days of freedom before heading off to college. And if I’m going to be stuck in a moment of my life on a desert island, there are worse times I could think of.

What came very close to making the list:
AC/DC, Back in Black.
Guns N’ Roses, Appetite for Destruction.
The Connells, Ring.

A two-goal lead is the most dangerous score in soccer.

Don't ask me why, but this has been the prevailing wisdom among coaches since before I started playing futbol all the way back in 1978. Apparently, teams tend to mentally relax and give up soft goals, and it happens often enough that the idea keeps kicking around (yes, pun intended). DC United did a good job of proving this nugget of wisdom this evening in the second game of their home-and-home series against Universidad Católica in the Copa Sudamericana, South America's club tournament. United is the first MLS team ever to participate (but not the first North American team; Mexican League teams have been involved before). United and Catolica tied 1-1 in the first match in DC, and because these series are decided by aggregate scoring, a win tonight would have put DC through to the next round. If they tied, the score needed to be at least 1-1, because goals scored away from home are the first tiebreaker. After 20 minutes of rather shaky soccer, United got off to a dream start, with Christian Gomez (above) scoring two quick goals to give them what seemed to be a comfortable margin. But Catolica pulled one goal back before halftime, and DC spent the entire 2nd half fighting against an erratic referee, hard fouls, injuries, cramps, and a general lack of defensive shape before finally surrendering two late goals that ended their run in the tournament. I'm not making excuses for them, because they deserved to lose this game. The players are probably relieved, because these matches happen to fall right during the MLS playoff push, so the timing couldn't have been much worse. But no matter what the situation, watching the Black and Red give up a lead like that is always painful, especially in a game where they had something to prove.

I bought some new music from the iTunes store tonight, and in both cases donated to charity at the same time. All the proceeds from Coldplay's Fix You EP are being donated to Hurricane Katrina relief funds, and Help: A Day in the Life supports the War Child charity, which works towards improving conditions for children in war-ravaged countries. It's great collections of songs from some of my favorite British artists. Radiohead, Coldplay, Keane, Elbow, Bloc Party, and the Magic Numbers are just a few of the contributors.

Getting Lost again

Damn, that's good television. Clearly, the writers of Lost heard the viewers clamoring for answers, because tonight's season premiere tackled a big one. But by finally showing us what's inside the hatch, they managed to give us several new mysteries and simultaneously set up up the path that Season Two will travel. And that is why this show is genius.

I haven't been much of a TV watcher for the past few years, but after a few years of reality-crap overload, this season seems to be full of interesting (and fully-scripted) programming. Mondays are shaping up to be a busy viewing night. I'm already addicted to Arrested Development, and both Kitchen Confidential and How I Met Your Mother showed some promise. Tuesdays have My Name Is Earl, and most likely Scrubs when it returns mid-season. Lost rules Wednesday, and after taking most of last season off, on Thursday nights I'm going to give Smallville a try again this year, since I hear Clark finally begins to embrace his powers and act like Superman. I'm beginning to appreciate my DVR more and more, since I can set it to record every episode of these shows and watch them on my schedule (damn, could I sound any more like a frickin' commercial?), even if I suddenly decide to have a life and leave the apartment once in a while.

Financial security

Very interesting article from Money magazine about the financial struggles of an MLS player, in this case Real Salt Lake's Andy Williams. Talk about being up, down, and all over the map. In most cases, players don't move around the way Williams has, but it's interesting to see the other side of collective bargaining agreements and incentive-based contracts. Link from Grant Wahl at si.com.

Caught the premiere of My Name is Earl tonight. Interesting idea. My initial thought is that the show is trying a little too hard, and it needs some time to catch its stride, but it's got promise. Jason Lee is the man. And tomorrow night, new Lost. Clear the decks! I am not accepting phone calls.

Dammit, Jim! He's a ham, not an actor!

Let me begin by saying that despite my all my nerdly glory, I am not now, nor have I ever been, a Star Trek fan. Sure, I appreciated Wrath of Khan, and I admit to having watched a season’s worth of Next Generation episodes. I can even throw out the occasional pop culture reference when I need a subject line (although I should credit my friend Tony for this one). But mostly, I find the show and all its consecutive movies and spinoffs to be overwrought and campy.

That said, there’s something about William Shatner that I find to be completely awesome. Overwrought and campy describes him perfectly, but in him, I don’t find it offensive. Instead, I find it endearing, mainly because he has such a great sense of humor about himself. He knows better than anyone that he’s coasting on the strength of an almost 40-year-old series, and he embraces his past with open arms. So when I read the list of Emmy winners this morning and saw that Bill had won a Best Supporting Actor statue for his work on Boston Legal, I couldn't help but feel a little bit of satisfaction for the man. Somewhere out there, Trekkies are firing off their phasers in celebratory fashion. Hopefully, they’ve got them set to stun.

I see famous people

OK, B- and C-listers. But they're more famous than you.

Maybe during all the football this weekend, you saw a commercial for ESPN Classic’s new show, Classic Now? Well, I did, and imagine my surprise when I saw that the host, Josh Elliott, is a former co-worker of mine. Nice guy. Just a bit surprising to see him in between beer commericals on ESPN. Strangely enough, when we worked together we were asked several times if we were brothers. Not that I know of, but if we are remotely related, I guess Josh came from the good-looking side of the family. I'm sure as hell not gonna be hosting a TV show anytime soon.

Todd was in Atlanta this weekend and stayed in the same hotel as the Hulkster, who had cameras in tow for his reality show. Dude’s still got some guns.

I actually spent some time yesterday laying (lying? I can't keep that straight) on the grass and watching the clouds. I haven't done that in years. None of them looked anything like famous people.

Batting .500

My trip through the filmography of Terry Gilliam is getting off to a bit of a rough start. I started out with Monty Python and the Holy Grail, which was as funny as I remembered, and set the bar rather high for the next movie, Jabberwocky, which I found to be thoroughly unwatchable. I lasted for about 45 minutes, determined to give it a try, but despite Michael Palin’s youthful enthusiasm, the film just couldn’t keep my attention. My only consolation is that I’m very likely not the first person to give up on this film before the end. I hope Time Bandits is able to hold my attention better than the last time I saw it. Otherwise, my Netflix queue is about to get a lot shorter.

Weatherwise, today was the first day of fall here. Cool, grey, and sort of rainy, and it smelled like the seasons are turning. That is, if your nose could get past the smells of rotten garbage and burning rubber that fill downtown Indy from time to time. Anyway, I celebrated autumn’s arrival by shopping at the grand opening of Indy’s first H&M. Needless to say, the arrival of the IKEA of clothing stores drew a large crowd of young women and gay men, but there were a few fellow straight guys browsing alongside me. The men’s section was somewhat smaller than I was hoping, but I still managed to find 1 or 2 (or 6) things to buy. The fact that it’s a block from work doesn’t bode well for my credit card balance.

Mystery Man

As Major League Soccer continues its growth in this, its 10th season, one way I tend to track its progress is through the media coverage. In cities with MLS teams, coverage in the sports page for the home team (and soccer in general) is usually pretty good. Take a look at the paper in a non-MLS city though, and you’re usually lucky to find a standings table on the next-to-last page below the local high school scores. So as an American soccer fan so often does, I turn to the internet to get my fix. ESPN, Sports Illustrated, and the offical site for MLS are my main sources. Marc Connolly, Grant Wahl, and Jeff Bradley generally provide the bulk of the writing, offering insightful columns and interviews. But the stable of knowledgeable writers is beginning to grow. Ives Galarcep, Jeff Carlisle, Frank Dell'Apa, Jen Chang, Michael Lewis, Jamie Trecker and Robert Wagman also tackle MLS and US Soccer from time to time with varying degrees of quality and criticism. But the sign that the coverage is starting to mature is that there are now humorous columns that bring you MLS news with equal parts smack talk, sarcasm, and self-deprecating humor. Former MLS player Greg Lalas is beginning to find his voice, but much like ESPN.com’s Sports Guy column on Page 2, MLSNet has The Clean Sheet, written by a guy who calls himself Tino Palace. This is most definitely a pseudonym (if you look at his photo on MLSNet, you'll see he’s taken pains to disguise himself), and rumors of his true identity range from Drew Carey (celeb soccer fan) to Jim Rome (card-carrying soccer-basher) to Don Garber (MLS Commissioner). Whoever he is, the man can write. Granted, you’ll need a fair amount of soccer and pop culture knowledge to understand his jokes, but I take it as a good sign that a column like this can find a following. It speaks well for the development of MLS and soccer fandom in this country.

And then there's Heather Mitts. She may have a long way to go as a writer, but after looking at the faces of all these balding, paunchy sportswriters, she gives one heck of a headshot.

Sick day

Thanks to a long doctor appointment involving a lot of drawn blood, I’m convalescing in my freshly painted apartment today. It looks pretty weird in here with all the furniture dragged into the middle of the room, but the splash of color has done a world of good to my humble abode.

The day off has also given me a chance to get caught up on some reading. I finally finished Robert Sobel’s terrific exercise in alternate history, For Want of a Nail. It was an easy and interesting read, and I would have finished it much faster had I stayed in town the past two weekends. Sobel begins at the Revolutionary War and imagines the future of North America had the British won the battle of Saratoga, and not lost as they did in real life. The book gets off to an interesting start as most of the Founding Fathers are taken to Britain and executed for treason, so the destiny of our continent is in the hands of an entirely different group of men. Taking a different tack from a lot of alternate history that I’ve read, Sobel wrote his book almost like a history textbook, following political and economic development more than individual lives. It’s a great study of what we might have been had one American general hesitated rather than acting.

Once I was done with that book, I started E.L. Doctorow's City of God, and have finished about two-thirds of it already. It’s a little less linear than most of what I’ve been reading lately, so I’ve really had to pay attention, but I’m enjoying it. The basic story involves a cross stolen from the top of a Catholic Church in New York that reappears on the roof of a synagogue, but along the way, most of the characters grapple with faith and their personal image of God.

And to keep with the theme, here’s a bit of one of my favorite Fountains of Wayne songs, appropriately titled “Sick Day’.

Claudio Reyna is the most important player in the English Premier League

That's right, all you Euro soccer snobs, an American. And here's the proof. Thanks to Todd for the link.

UPDATE: Apparently they update this list weekly, and Claudio's fallen all the way to 4th. So he's still really important, just not the most important player this week.

Fashionably late

Well, since some f'ing stupid boring-ass baseball game is more important to espn2 than the US-Guatemala World Cup Qualifier, I have some free time to talk about this new band I've discovered. They're called Death Cab for Cutie. They've got this fantastic new CD, Plans, that's really been flying under the radar. I don't think anybody's heard of them... what's that? Major label debut? Five previous full-length albums? On the cover of every major music magazine? Oh. Well, never mind then.

Anyway, consider me firmly ensconced on the DCFC bandwagon. I've always loved Ben Gibbard's side project, The Postal Service, ever since I first heard "The District Sleeps Tonight" back in '03, but I had never really paid much attention to his day job other than the few songs I'd heard here and there. Well, thanks to a fortuitous Target gift card, I decided to take a chance on Plans tonight, and I'm glad I did. I have no frame of reference since I've never listened to any other Death Cab albums, so I can't speak to how this new one compares. But if Plans is any indication of how good Death Cab is, I'll be adding their back catalog to my collection shortly.

MP3s:
"I Will Follow You Into the Dark"
and
"Marching Bands of Manhattan"
from Plans.

The scales have fallen from our eyes

If there is any silver lining to be taken from the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, it's the fact that the sleeping giant that is public opinion is finally waking up to the poor fashion in which we've been governed for the past five years. Harold Meyerson, writing in the Washington Post's Op-Ed section, puts together a rather concise and scathing indictment of what he labels the Bush Administration's "Stuff Happens" policy of leadership. Thanks to my dad for the link. Here's a sample:

Is it any surprise, then, that the administration's response to the devastation in New Orleans is of a piece with its response to the sacking of Baghdad once our troops arrived? "Stuff happens" was the way Don Rumsfeld described the destruction of Baghdad's hospitals, universities and museums while American soldiers stood around. Now stuff has happened in New Orleans, too, even as FEMA was turning away offers of assistance. This is the stuff-happens administration. And it's willing, apparently, to sacrifice any claim America may have to national greatness rather than inconvenience the rich by taxing them to build a more secure nation.

History is filled with leaders who ruined their countries by following their imperialist ambitions halfway around the world while ignoring the glaring problems at home. It's probably too much to hope that Dubya can turn things around and start working towards healing the deepening divide between rich and poor in this country, but hey... hope is what made this country great, right?

UPDATE: If you haven't seen it yet, here's something else you should read. Jenny posted this open letter from the residents of Louisiana to President Bush. Powerful stuff.

Home grown

Here's why I love Major League Soccer. For all its imperfections, the league has provided a fertile breeding ground for the young American player. If MLS didn't exist, Freddy Adu would likely be playing for Inter Milan's youth team, and Justin Mapp would probably be starting his junior year at some NCAA soccer power. Instead, they are both budding professional stars, on US National Team head coach Bruce Arena's radar (Mapp having been called into the most recent training camp and Freddy being, well, Freddy), and both scored very similar goals this weekend which happen to be two of the best goals in MLS this season. Both goals were helped by rather lax defending, but each player showed excellent poise, receiving the ball 40-45 yards from goal and skillfully working their way into great positions. Freddy picked the perfect spot for a rocket shot into the far corner, and Mapp finished his mazy run through five defenders with a well-placed ball across his body. Some of that comes with talent, but it also comes with game experience... something these guys might not have much of if MLS wasn't around.

2-0

If I was a Mexico fan (and I say a little prayer of thanks every day that I'm not), I would probably begin to hate the number two. Every time the US plays Mexico in a high-pressure match, the US wins by a score of 2-0. February 2001. June 2002. And now, September 2005. Last night, the US struggled through a physical first half, but dominated the second half behind the strong play of DaMarcus Beasley, Oguchi Onyewu and Kasey Keller to earn enough points to guarantee a spot in next summer's World Cup in Germany. It's the earliest the US has ever clinched a spot, and the first time we've ever been the first country in our region (known by the delightful acronym CONCACAF) to clinch. As a fan, after reading all the Mexican smack talk for the past week, seeing them get their just desserts by having to listen to the pro-US crowd celebrate our World Cup berth for 30 minutes after the end of the match while they sulked in the locker room is pretty sweet.

There was also a marked difference in the post game reaction for the two teams. The US players made no secret of how good it felt to beat Mexico so handily, especially Landon Donovan, who had to endure the brunt of most of the Mexicans' verbal attacks all week. Meanwhile, the Mexican players resorted to threatening to boycott playing for the national team if their embattled coach, Ricardo La Volpe, was fired in the wake of this defeat. And in the strangest twist of all, La Volpe decided to insult the US team... after the game! Now, I'm not exactly sure how it works down there in May-hee-co, but no American coach in any sport whose job was in jeopardy would ever disparage the quality of the team he just lost to! So your grandmother could play for the US? Then why not let her play for Mexico? You've just implied that she's better than everyone on your roster last night. Good thinking, Ricky. Clearly, a Mensa membership is not a requirement for the Mexican head coaching job.

What I'm trying to say

The library yielded another excellent music find in Stars' Set Yourself on Fire, a collection of songs with a male and female singer trading vocals (I seem to be in that mood lately). There's some 80's influence in the synthesizers and drum lines, but mostly this disc makes me think of a slightly more rockin' Postal Service.

Slowly but surely, I'm working my way through the six discs of Freaks & Geeks. It really was an amazing show, and if I spent much time thinking about the fact that they only got to make one season (and didn't even get to air all the episodes), I'd be really upset. So I'll just think about something else, like this weekend's US-Mexico World Cup Qualifying clash. Aside from the bitter rivalry and regional bragging rights that are always at stake in this matchup, there's the added bonus that if either team wins on Saturday, they clinch a berth in next year's World Cup. As if this game needed any more spice.

Gas is anywhere from $2.99 to $3.29 a gallon here (which is not as bad as Georgia). Good thing we're fighting that war so that we can stabilize the Middle East and gas prices can come down.

On a more serious note, all of my usual kvetching seems a lot less important after watching what's going on in the Gulf States following Hurricane Katrina. Part of me thinks that if you live in a city that's below sea level, you'd have to be pretty stupid not to to know this was coming at some point, but it's hard to be so callous when you see the coverage of the devastation and the disgusting parasites who are preying on the victims and looting the wreckage. I do think it's important to donate money, even if it's not much. Luckily, my company is matching donations up to $25,000. Don't think I'll be writing a check for quite that much, but it's nice to know what I do give will have twice as much impact.