Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Sweet Home Chicago
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Bill Murray
To honour all that the City of Chicago has to offer, we'll be paying tribute to a different famous son (of which there are almost too many to count) everyday here on the blog.
No mention of Chicago would be complete without a tip-of-the-cap to all of the great comedic actors who have cut their teeth in the home of The Second City. The list reads like a who's who of the comedy world: John Belushi, Edgar Bergen, Steve Carell, John and Joan Cusak, John Favreau, Tina Fey, Dennis Farina, Chris Farley, Ron Livingston, Bernie Mac, William H. Macy, John Malkovich, Frances McDormand, Jeremy Piven, John C. Riley, Vince Vaughn, Robin Williams... Hell, even Laurence Tureaud (that's Mr. T to you, sucka!) is from Chicago.
But for my money, nobody better encapsulates the quality of Thespian talent that the City of Chicago has been able to consistently churn out, than Bill Murray.
From his early days on SNL and his roles in the decade-defining classics Meatballs, Caddyshack, and Ghostbusters, it was pretty obvious that we were witnessing something special. Bill Murray has always been one of those actors that has an undeniable charisma, and that inexplicable je ne said quoi whereby you just can't help but to never take your eyes off of him. The dry wit and dead-panned honesty for which he is now known began to reveal itself in the likes of Groundhog Day (one of my all-time top-10 movies), Ed Wood, and The Royal Tenenbaums, and his performance in Lost in Translation is the stuff of which legends are made.
With Bill Murray, you never get the sense that he's acting. It's as if every role was written specifically for Bill Murray to play himself. I don't know if there is a better compliment that can be bestowed upon an actor.
A lifelong Cubbies fan, a die-hard golfer, and the least "Hollywood" of all Hollywood celebrities; if we could only all be just a little bit more like Bill Murray, the world would be an infinitely better place.
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Michael Jordan
To honour all that the City of Chicago has to offer, we'll be paying tribute to a different famous son (of which there are almost too many to count) everyday here on the blog.
There are simply no words to describe the way Michael Jordan played the game of basketball. I know this first hand, because I've been staring at my computer screen for two hours trying to find somewhere to begin.
Before he arrived in the NBA, in 1984, nobody had ever dreamed of playing the game of basketball the way he did. Ever since, that's all anybody has ever done. But nobody has come close.
I find it utterly laughable when people compare any one of a number of the players of today to the player that Michael Jordan was. How ridiculous does it sound when you think back to the time (a mere 8 years ago) when people were openly wondering whether Vince Carter was the next Michael Jordan? (I'm telling you, somebody is going to come across that last sentance one day and think that I'm on crack for writing it, but it's true. People were actually comparing Vince Carter to Michael Jordan!)
Even up until game 4 of the 2008 NBA finals, people were openly wondering whether or not Kobe Bryant (Kobe Bryant?) was at the same level as His Airness. Luckily for everyone involved, however, Kobe's team went on to blow a 24-point lead in a pivotal finals game (something that MJ, in a trillion kajillion years, would NEVER let happen to one of his teams), thereby saving everyone the embarassment of perpetuating one of the most absurd sporting "debates" in the history of mankind.
Because the fact is: there will never be another Michael Jordan. He was a once in a lifetime talent. Not only was he the most explosive and gracefully gifted scorer the game has ever seen (to this day, I continue to be awestruck by his dunk off of Pippen's missed free throw), but he was also the best defender of his generation. The awards he recieved in his playing days - Rookie of the Year; Five-time NBA MVP; Six-time NBA champion; Six-time NBA Finals MVP; Ten-time All-NBA First Team; Nine time NBA All-Defensive First Team; Defensive Player of the Year; 14-time NBA All-Star; Three-time NBA All-Star MVP; 50th Anniversary All-Time Team; Ten scoring titles - don't even begin to do him justice as a player. Because what couldn't be quantified about Michael Jordan was how badly he wanted to win.
There's a great story about MJ's competitive streak (and his love for gambling) that I'll quote from one of the Sports Guy's pieces:
Back before NBA teams had grasped the rejuvenating power of chartered airplanes, the Bulls were waiting for their luggage in Portland when Jordan slapped a hunny on the conveyor belt: I bet you my bags come out first. Jumping on the incredibly favorable odds, nine teammates happily accepted the wager. Sure enough, Jordan's bags led the rollout. He cackled with delight as he collected everyone's money.
What none of the suckers knew, and what MJ presumably never told them, was that he had bribed a baggage handler to help him out. He didn't pocket much (a few hundred bucks), and considering his net worth hovered around nine figures at the time, it's safe to say he didn't need the extra cash. But that didn't matter. There was a chance at an easy score, and he took it.
No sport has ever seen a competitor like Michael Jordan. He was blessed/cursed with a level of competitiveness that couldn't even begin to be described, let alone measured or matched. He took that aforementioned money from his teammates because he wanted to beat them, and because he wanted to emphatically reinforce that he was and always would be unbeatable, in whatever they wanted to compete in. And he was the same way on the court.
From the beginning of his career (hitting the game winning shot as a freshman in the 1982 NCAA Championship Game), MJ was a cold-blooded killer on the court, relishing the opportunity of ripping his opposition's heart out (exhibit A: this dunk over Patrick Ewing). A Michael Jordan led team was almost impossible to beat in the playoffs becuase he simply wouldn't let it happen. And when he decided that he was taking over a game, there was simply no stopping him.
Perhaps the best examples of his desire to utterly dominate were in 1993 and 1997, when the media essentially grew sick of awarding Jordan the regular season MVP (he very obviously deserved it both years), and instead handed the award to Charles Barkley ('93) and Karl Malone ('97). In both years, Jordan wound up meeting the regular season MVPs in the finals, and in both cases, Jordan absolutely eviscerated the so-called MVPs and their teams (averaging 41.0 ppg in '93; the game winner and the "flu game" in 1997).
In all of my years of watching sports, I have never seen an athlete dominate the way Michael Jordan did while playing for the Chicago Bulls. And to be honest, I don't think I'll live to see anyone ever come close.
PS - I spent hours watching countless MJ YouTube clips, and there doesn't seem to be a definitive montage of the best Jordan highlights (at least not with the accompanying play-by-play calls and crowd reaction that I consider to be essential). Somebody definitely needs to get on this. In the meantime, feel free to click on the hyperlinked text, as you will be treated to a variety of highlight segments that are only the tip of the iceberg where Jordan's career is concerned.)
PPS - To read about the one time you didn't want to be like Mike, click HERE and scroll down to "The Best Random Celebrity Moment Ever".
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Al Capone
To honour all that the City of Chicago has to offer, we'll be paying tribute to a different famous son (of which there are almost too many to count) everyday here on the blog.
Al Capone was the most popular man in Chicago for the duration of the 1920's. He did more to expand the Chicago vice market than anyone in history, controlling the city's speakeasies, bookie joints, gambling houses, brothels, pony tracks, nightclubs, distilleries, and breweries for the latter half of the decade, earning a reported $100,000,000 a year in the process. He smoked cigars and was an unconscionable womanizer. He showed a wanton and almost gleeful disregard for the law, and his mere "responding to the will of the people" almost single-handedly brought an end to Prohibition. He was simultaneously revered and reviled in the city he owned, and to top it all off, he died of Syphilis while serving time in jail.
If Al Capone isn't the quintessential mascot for a bachelor party in Chicago, I don't know who is.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Muddy Waters
To honour all that the City of Chicago has to offer, we'll be paying tribute to a different famous son (of which there are almost too many to count) everyday here on the blog.
Despite the fact that he was born McKinley Morganfield in Issaquena County, Mississippi, nobody better captures the Chicago electric blues sound than Muddy Waters. I've often contended that if you wanted to show someone the best that American culture had to offer and you only had a day in which to do it, you'd be best served sitting that person in the bleachers at Wrigley field for a Saturday afternoon game with a dog and a beer, and then taking them to go see Muddy Waters in a smoky blues club that night.
Not only is Muddy Waters "the father of Chicago Blues"; in so many ways, he is the blues. The Mannish Boy beat is to blues music what the Bo Diddley beat is to Rock and Roll (mainly, the heartbeat), and nobody did more to bring American Blues music to the mainstream than Muddy (with his staggering influence on British rockers, who in turn brought their brand of blues music back to the U.S.). The scope of his influence is no more obvious than in the fact that the Rolling Stones took their name from one of his songs.
There would be no Led Zeppelin without Muddy Waters. There would be no Eric Clapton without Muddy Waters. Hell, even the wedding reception air-guitar standard You Shook Me All Night Long is a title AC/DC borrowed from Muddy's You Shook Me. Muddy Waters was the first true rock star (fast cars, hot girls, slick clothes, killer pompadour), and he wasn't even playing what we conventionally refer to as rock and roll.
Long Distance Call; particularly the version found on Muddy & The Wolf; is one of the all-time infedelity epilogues ("When I picked up my receiver, the party said there's another mule kickin' in your stall"), and you should not be at all surprised if you find yourself at some point in your life sitting in my living room with a bottle of Bourbon between us and Muddy's The Real Folk Blues spinning on the turntable at 4:30 in the morning. The man and his music are easily worthy of that distinction, and then some.
Willie Dixon has famously said: "The blues is the roots; everything else is the fruits".
By no means was Muddy Waters the first blues musician; but he was certainly the best.
Postscript: It should be noted that Muddy Waters beat out the following Chicago-based musicians for the coveted distinction of headlining this entry:
- Sam Cooke (if I could have anyone's voice, dead or alive, it would be Sam Cooke's)
- Howlin' Wolfe
- Curtis Mayfield
- Bo Diddley
- Ray Manzarek
- Willie Dixon
- Benny Goodman
- Tom Morello
- Koko Taylor
- Buddy Guy
- Patti Smith
- R. Kelly
- Herbie Hancock
- Billy Corgan
- Kanye West
Monday Afternoon Diversion
In any event, if you are one of the unfortunate souls trapped in the office this week, here is some of the best stuff I've come across lately to help you through the day:
Rough Crossings: The Cutting of Raymond Carver
This is a fascinating piece taken from the December 24th edition of the New Yorker, describing the relationship between the short story savant Raymond Carver and his longtime editor, Gordon Lish.
If you're a struggling writer, this might be one of the most comforting/terrifying pieces you'll ever come across. Comforting in the sense that an editor can chop and slash your work into something altogether different from what you had originally intended, thereby insuring that the work gets published where it otherwise would have never had a chance. I'm sure that in most cases, the piece will ultimately be stronger for having undergone such scrupulous amputations, but I can tell you that having met with an editor for the first time in my life on Thursday, the prospect of having certain characters and philosophical pillars murdered; all in the name of brevity; is nothing short of terrifying.
To quote Jasper Rees: "The cutting room is a cruel place, where writing that may have cost blood to commit to paper is kneaded and pummelled like so much insensate clay."
To see exactly what an editor can do to a particular work, check out Lish's edit of Carver's "Beginners" (Lish even changed the title to "What We Talk About When We Talk About Love"), and Carver's near suicidal correspondences with Lish in the aftermath. Does the end (Lish's edits improving the piece dramatically) justify the means (driving Carver to the brink of insanity)?
I guess it all depends on how badly you want the world to see your work. Because you can say exactly what you want to say and ignore the input of anyone else (who may very well have a far greater grasp of exactly what your work needs), but insodoing you risk the very real possibility of having that piece remain in your desk drawer forever, and you'll wind up living like Paul Giamatti's character from Sideways, with everybody always asking him about the progress of his novel that is doing little more than sitting in two boxes in the backseat of his car.
Is this a long-winded way of saying that the manuscript I've been working on for the past four years will be undergoing a slashing reminiscent of that guy chained to the pipe in SAW? Something like that. Let's move on.
Wicked 'wiches
This is Now Magazine's guide to the best Sandwiches in Toronto. An indespensible tool if you call the 416 home. I can personally vouche for the Wild Sockeye Salmon (The Fish Store, College and Grace), The Pemeal Bacon (St. Lawrence Market), TLamb Saytay (New York Subway, Queen and Ryerson), and The Italian Veal (California Sandwiches, Claremont and Treford), all of which are top shelf. I have to say, I'm intrigued by the Catfish and Shrimp Po' Boy, and the Smoked Meat (at the Monarch Tavern? Who knew?).
For those of you with a taste for the spicier side, check out Now's first annual survey of T.O.'s finest jerk chicken joints, aptly titled: The Jerk Off.
An Island in the Wind, by Elizabeth Kolber
A look at one Danish community's attempt to become an entirely sustainable island, and the prospect of living in a 2,000 Watt society. The verdict? It's a lot easier than you think.
Green Roof Sighting in Collingwood
One of the most poorly written articles I've come across in years. Misinformation, quoting the wrong people, facts butchered left, right, and centre... The only thing uglier is the picture of that dude at the top of the ladder.
Your Weekly Reminder of who was The Greatest Band in the History of Rock and Roll:
The E Street Band, circa 1978.
John "Peanuts" O'Flaherty.
They hockey world lost a legend last week.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
The National Kids Cancer Ride
(Warning: the above clip may cause the air around your office to get a little dusty as you sit at your computer this morning)
I received an email from my good friend Timmy D the other day. Besides being a longtime standout tender in the OTHL, Timmy has one of the biggest hearts of anyone I know. Nothing speaks to this better than the fact that he spent the first part of this summer volunteering with the Cancer Ride, driving the bus behind all of those crazy cyclists as they pedaled their way from sea to shining sea, spreading love, happiness, and awareness of the critical funding needed for child cancer research.
I had a good buddy of mine die of cancer in the 6th grade (RIP Jean Marc Knapp), so this is a cause that I hold near and dear to my heart. But I really don't think that anyone could put it better than Timmy himself:
I just finished up the most awesome journey that I must say has been life changing for me! I volunteered for the Sears National Kids Cancer Ride where 50 cyclist's rode from Vancouver to Halifax in 19 days to raise money and awareness for kids who are afflicted with childhood cancer.
Without a word of exaggeration, this is without a doubt the best thing I've ever done or been involved with in my life. I lost a nephew a very long time ago to leukemia (he would've been 23 in October...I KNOW he would've been an OTHL'er...no doubt in my mind) and this was a way for me to give back and honour his memory.
I'd also like to impose upon you if possible. A lot of people read your blog and I would be indebted to you if you would check out this link (The Final Word) especially the two You-Tube clips and if you feel it's worthy of being posted on your blog, well that would be great! Yes we are still looking for donations because we haven't reached our goal of 1.5 million as of yet, but just as important we need to continue to create awareness for the cause and we do need to begin to recruit volunteers for next year. Take it from me, it is once in a lifetime experience and as an added bonus you get to see this great country at its absolute best!
http://www.searsnationalkidscancerride.com/?page_id=238
What a great story, a worthy cause, and an incredible way to raise money.
In so many ways, their story reminds me of the story of the most heroic Canadian who ever lived: Terry Fox.
Fixing the MLB All-Star Game
Heeeeere Fishy Fishy Fishy
Is there any way to explain this clip? If so, I would love for someone to chime in, because I'm at a loss. Also, is there an equivalent to this in the real world? I mean, is this what it's like for Derek Jeter with women when he walks into a bar?
I remember seeing a Sesame Street episode when I was a kid that dealt with this subject matter (the fishing, not DJ's libido), but being ever the skeptic; even at the age of 5; I just went ahead and assumed it was all make believe. Who knew that I'd be shown the error of my ways some 25 years after the fact.
Perhaps most important of all, the validating of the Bert and Ernie Fishing sketch raises an intriguing philosophical question: because if the fishing sketch is true, who's to say that Aloysius Snuffleupagus wasn't real either?
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
In Case You Missed It...
Just in case you missed the show put on by Josh Hamilton last night, this is the most ridiculous display of power I've ever seen. That crowd is literally gasping in disbelief by homerun #17. I normally could care less about the HR derby, but that was something altogether different.
I know there's an easy joke out there about how Josh Hamilton is proof that heroin and crack really do make you awesome at everything in life, but I'm going to take the high road instead...
Great Sign Showdown, Part II
Vs.
Vs.
Vs.
Vs.
Cock Polishing Services. That can't be a real business, can it? I mean, I don't have all that much that needs polishing, but I'd be willing to take in my bronzed rooster just to see where things go from there.
I Have a Small Penis. Lord knows I'm pretty tight with a buck when it comes to guys on the street who are obviously capable of working for a living, but I think the laugh derived from this downtrodden sufferer of the Irish curse would be well worth some spare change. The best homeless man's business plan since this ingenius idea.
He's Gay. Obviously, taking a shot at this guy is more than fair game. I'm not entirely sure why these two dudes were wearing shirts that read "He's" and "Gay", but we'll give them the benefit of the doubt. (By the way, the sign which reads: "Fags Die God Laughs" is so ridiculously bigoted and archaic that it might actually trump what the two dudes pulled off in terms of comedy).
Iron My Shirt. Hoisting this at a feminist rally has to be considered a radical act... in the same way that castrating a guy in a parking lot with a Coke bottle is a radical act.
But I think you have to give the nod to Erin Andrews Loves the Hardwood. For those of you who don't know Erin Andrews, she is the former University of Florida cheerleader turned sideline reporter who was voted America's Sexiest Sportscaster by Playboy Magazine in 2007. I have no idea how nobody thought of this sign before, but it is sheer brilliance. As is almost always the case, the most simple and obvious ideas make for perfection.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
The Ever-Increasing Price of Oil
I was talking to my sister on the phone Saturday afternoon. She had tickets to the Kenny Chesney concert, but her car was in the shop, so she was trying to figure out a way to get from her place in Tusculum to LP Field for the show (about 10 miles). I jokingly suggested that she should just hop on the streetcar and take it downtown, knowing full well that an efficient light rail system is about the last thing you'd ever see in Nashville, despite the fact that the city is the perfect size for dedicated streetcar lines (it turns out the MTA has buses, but my sis says that nobody seems to know anything about them).
This discussion about Nashville's lack of an adequate public transportation system invariably led to my asking the question: "What are people in Nashville going to do when gas gets to $10 a gallon?". My sister gasped at the thought, and after a few moments, asked: "You don't think gas will ever be $10 a gallon, do you?"
By all rights, my sister is one of the most sensible and intelligent people I know. And yet the following idea had never really occurred to her:
The price of oil is never coming down.
Which got me to thinking that maybe that particular fact isn't as obvious as I assumed it was. The result of which is this entry. I am by no means a financial analyst, but you really don't need an economics or world politics degree to understand the way things are shaking out. I read a lot. I think a lot. And I'd like to think that I have a certain capacity for common sense. So we'll just go ahead and call this the seanmccallum.com Coles Notes guide to the ever-increasing price of oil.
Oil is a Finite Resource
It literally takes millions of years for the earth to naturally create fossil fuels (fossil fuels are created by the compression and heating of organic materials {ie, fossils} over a period of time that is almost impossible for the human mind to fathom), so rest assured, we aren't getting a fresh supply any time soon.
Many believe that we have already reached that peak. The recent spike in the price of oil would certainly support that notion. But the truth is, it doesn't really matter if we're past the peak, if we're standing at its precipice, or whether or not that peak is looming just over the horizon. The only thing you need to know is that there will come a time when there is less and less oil to be refined, and the oil that can be refined will become more and more difficult (ie, expensive) to get our hands on.
I believe that we can look to the Athabasca Tar Sands as exhibit A. Where we used to pump crude out of the ground for next to nothing, it now takes approximately 1 barrel's worth of oil in energy consumption for every 4 barrels of oil taken from the Tar Sands (for every barrel of synthetic crude, 4,500 lbs of tar sands have to be dug up and separated). From this point forward, that's about as good as it will get.
Supply and Demand
It is the fundamental model of economics. As noted above, the supply of crude will be declining in the coming years. When combined with the fact that it is becoming more and more costly to get our hands on that remaining oil, there is little doubt that we will continue to see an increase in the price of oil.
The demand for oil is increasing every day. China and India are experiencing a 21st century version of the industrial revolution that the Western world has been basking in for the past 150 years. The major difference between our revolution and theirs is that between China and India, their oil-fuelled industry will be revolutionizing close to 2.5 Billion people. That's a lot of people. And that's a lot of oil.
To give you an example of the kind of demand we can expect from these developing nations, you need look no further than automobile ownership. In China in 2006, there were 24 automobiles for every 1,000 citizens. By contrast, the U.S. has 765 vehicles for every 1,000 people. It is estimated that Chinese car ownership will increase 67% (up to 40 cars / 1,000) by the year 2010. Again, a massive increase in demand. And for these developing countries, it is just the beginning.
Political Unrest
Hey, did you know that the U.S. is at war with an oil-rich nation?
Get used to it, because this fact probably won't be changing in our lifetime. At the earth summit in Rio de Janiero in 1992, George H. Bush declared that the American way of life was not negotiable. Fast forward 16 years to a time in which the U.S. is at war with a country for no other discernible reason than it's place in the world's oil supply chain, and you begin to understand just how non-negotiable that way of life is.
Because more than anything else, the American Dream is dependent upon the supply of cheap oil. Oil is the steroids of the suburbs. Everything about the suburban lifestyle; the sprawl where you have to drive to get anywhere; drive-through fast food arriving in disposable containers; the way our food is grown all over the world and delivered to the big box grocery stores that can only be reached by SUV; the complete and utter lack of any dependable form of public transportation... All of these things come crumbling down without oil. Which is precisely why countries are willing to send their children halfway across the world to die for it.
After the present war with Iraq is "over", there is little doubt that the U.S. will shift its strategic attentions to Iran. The result will undoubtedly be a massive increase in the price of oil. We can expect this pattern to repeat itself until long after we leave this place.
(In his exit speech on January 17, 1961, Dwight D. Eisenhower warned the American people to guard against the implementation of a military-industrial complex. Without going into too much detail, a military industrial complex can be defined as: “an informal and changing coalition of groups with vested psychological, moral, and material interests in the continuous development and maintenance of high levels of weaponry, in preservation of colonial markets and in military-strategic conceptions of internal affairs.” It essentially means that a country's economy is dependent upon the perpetuation of war. This is yet another unannounced reason for the U.S. to begin engaging Iran.)
What does this all mean?
A perpetual increase in the price of oil will invariably change the way we live. And I am of the opinion that this isn't necessarily a bad thing.
I don't need to get into details about the various ways we will be forced to downsize our lifestyle (an excercise that is about 50 years overdue), but rest assured, this downsizing will be inescapable. Smaller houses. Smaller cars. Smaller vacations...
But it isn't all doom and gloom. The $200 barrel world will force us to make many of the changes we should have made decades ago. We will begin to carpool; not because we feel like we should, but because we literally won't be able to afford not to. We will waste less. Again, not because it's the right thing to do (we've known it to be the right thing to do since the beginning of time), but because it will be the only way.
Our communities will evolve. We will see better public transportation in cities because there will be no other choice (we may even see a dedicated streetcar line running up and down the Nolensville Pike in Nashville one day). We will have grocery stores within walking distance because that is how people will choose to get around. People will ride bicycles with baskets on the front of them. It will be glorious.
Most importantly, we as a society will adapt. We will develop new and existing technologies that will allow us to exist in a world where we are no longer dependent upon oil. We will have houses with geothermal heating and an R-value of 30. We will use sustainable energy sources (wind, solar, water...) to power our homes and cities. And we will have solar-electric automobiles to get from point A to point B (how these vehicles have not been mass-produced and marketed by the auto industry is utterly indefensible).
Oh yeah. And there will be infinitely less pollution, because there won't be as much fuel to burn. We can't forget that particular benefit.
So have no fear. Because despite the fact that the world is changing, in many ways, it will be changing for the better.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Unfortunate Auto-Correction
The American Family Association has a strict policy to replace the word "gay" with "homosexual" on its news website - but it created a problem with sprinter Tyson Gay.
The association's computer's auto-corrected the US sprint star's name to Tyson Homosexual.