Uncasville, CT & the capital of the world, NY — Dan and I were rummaging through his kitchen for snacks. The ride from North Branford to Mohegan Sun was about an hour. I opened the cupboard above the refrigerator and found a treasure trove of booze. “Dan, Jesus Christ, you guys preparing for the apocalypse or something?” I said, eyes wide open. “How are you goin’ to get better if you don’t take your medicine?” Dan said, smiling.

Valet parking at Mohegan Sun was $1. Dan really didn’t want to pay but I splurged. The casino was immaculate and empty (just the way I like it). We walked around, won some money and ate some pizza at Geno’s Fast Break (Mr. Auriemma used to cruise around Storrs in a yellow Testarossa, thoughts VoDoO cHiLd?).

The next morning I booked it home to Pleasant Valley to rendezvous with my family. We had a date with the New York Knicks. We crammed five warm bodies into my brother’s five seat Toyota Corolla, parked next door to MSG and dined at McDonald’s across the street (6:47 p.m.). We thought the game started at 7 p.m. We inhaled our food and bolted to the Garden only to find out the game started at 7:30.

We weren’t sitting next to Spike, but our seats were pretty good this year. One day, sigh.

Nothing makes my heart beat faster than seeing the Knicks live. I must have been a good boy this year because my Knickerbockers spanked the Chicago Bulls 88-81. It was beautiful. Harrington and Lee were beasts.

Like we’ve done so for the last 8-10 years, my cousins, brother and I posed for a pic in front of the court. No one thought of bringing a digital camera. My Polaroid made due.

- east coast paper boy

Go ahead and become a pig farmer. See if I care. I’ll enjoy my golf and my season ticket to the Knicks, and my excursions to see a Broadway show, and you can roll up your sleeves and get dirty all you want. I was only trying to give you a little brotherly advice, but as usual you rebuffed me so why should I even bother? It won’t be long till you give up your ridiculous dreams out there, Mr. Don Quixote, and move back to the city. Mark my words, Lester, you’ll miss New York more than you think. No one ever gets the city out of their system. 

• http://www.seasonofsavings.com/?gclid=CI7l3-jas50CFR4HagodRTKwjA
• http://gonyc.about.com/od/bestofnewyorkcity/tp/topattractions.htm
• http://www.tripadvisor.com/Attractions-g60763-Activities-New_York_City_New_York.html
• http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Knickerbockers_(clothing)
• http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/knickerbockers
• http://www.bookrags.com/Knickerbocker’s_History_of_New_York,_Complete

Most of the time it’s pretty cold right now, thus I am opting for cosy clothes. One of my current favourites is my selfmade wool Caban, knickebockers and old fashioned lace up pumps. Tights are a must right now. What do you wear to snuggle up and make yourself comfortable with the cold weather?

My wool Caban; I used  navy blue wool fabric and a purple plaid wool fabric for lining. The buttons are leather covered. The lapel and the collar are lined with another purple wool fabric.

My new favourite shoes (by Miss Sixty “Low wanna”)

A very odd selection, from Balcombe and Lindfield jumble sales, of which the floaty Indian dress is probably the most wearable. The pair of very bizarre white shorts with buttons – to be worn with braces – work surprisingly well over a pair of black tights (though not for me: they demand someone both younger and more adventurous); the Fifties-ish blue print tunic is quite simple in shape; the two blouses have potential, but the most outlandish item of all is the pair of brown knee-length knickerbockers. No, I don’t dare, but I can find a girl who will. Eighties retro ahoy!

The New York Knickerbockers have a rich history, dating all the way back to the Basketball Association of America, of which they were a founding member. The name Knickerbockers describes baggy trousers that were popular in the early twentieth century. In 1946 they joined the NBA and are now considered to be the most valuable team in the league, worth $608 million. Based on their position in our season preview, I can only imagine that they are not expected to have a great season.

The Knicks took advantage of the first NBA Draft Lottery by winning the number one pick in the NBA Draft in the ‘85-’86 season. They chose Patrick Ewing. They couldn’t have chosen better, because Ewing went on to win the NBA Rookie of the Year Award. Ewing continued to play for the Knicks up through the ‘99-’00 season.

After Ewing left, the Knicks records began to drop. In the ‘01-’02 season, they signed expensive free agents such as Shandon Anderson and Howard Eisley. Their expensive long term contracts have contributed to the Knicks’ astronomical payroll.

The Knick's reaction to Susan Boyle losing Britain's Got Talent

So what will the Knicks look like this year? Hopefully better. In this year’s NBA Draft, they acquired Jordan Hill and Toney Douglas. In a trade with the Memphis Grizzlies, they also gained Darko Milicic. By now I’m sure you are saying to yourself: “Ivy Leaguer, what would your advice to the Knicks be? After all, you seem to be so knowledgeable”. My advice to the Knicks would be to emulate their previous, winning selves. They need to get back to their origins. Interestingly enough, they are one of only two original teams in the NBA to remain located in the city in which they started. So they wouldn’t even have to move their team in order to replicate the primordial Knicks who did so well. Also, their uniforms should match those of the early twentieth century Knicks. Basicly, this is what the Knicks should be balling in:

hastily made visual representation

I can’t guarantee that this is what the Knicks will be wearing this season, so don’t go out and buy this uniform just yet. I wish the Knicks good luck this season, especially since I am now a resident of New York. But most importantly, I hope that if the Knicks aren’t outstanding this year, that they are at least not embarrassing. I don’t want to look like this guy:

this guy is wearing a bag on his head

Recap:

1. Sacramento Kings
2. Washington Wizards
3. Los Angeles Clippers
4. Oklahoma City Thunder
5. Memphis Grizzlies
6. Minnesota Timberwolves
7. Golden State Warriors
8. New York Knicks
9. Toronto Raptors

[Loeffler Randall silk tulip shorts, Saks.com.]

Growing up in Florida and other humid environments, I’ve been quoted saying I found jeans to be claustrophobic. This has not changed living in a place where the temperature hovers around 11° for 2 months. You are who you are.

[In Loeffler Randall silk slouch shorts, August 2009.]

I’ve had a long and torrid love affair with shorts. I lived in them until about age 7 when we moved away from Ponte Vedra Beach and all my fellow jellie-wearing, dress code-naïve buddies. Day 1 at my all girls’ prep school in Richmond, VA began with a cluster of girls pointing and laughing at my culottes. Who knew second graders were so aware of cuts and hemlines? Diff•er•ent (adj.) = wearing the wrong clothes in a really uptight environment.

[I have lived in these Current/Elliott shorts all summer.]

Breeches. Knickerbockers. “Knee pants.” Bermuda shorts. They go a long way back. We have Scottish kilts to thank for their birth, British sportsmen to thank for their development, and little English schoolboys to applaud for their rise to fame. After WWI, the practicality of shorts for troops’ heat relief was undeniable, and thanks to some tennis stars, they weren’t so taboo anymore. Butch Patrick pretty much took them to legendary status.

Now, there are short suits for women—beautifully tailored summer silks and cottons, seersucker and linen. They are staples when they’re done right.

[Told ya.]

When it gets to be above 50° up here in the sticks, I wear shorts to the office. I’ve worn the same pair of shorts with t-shirts on my dad’s boat as I have with Gucci slingbacks and a Burberry trenchcoat on 5th Avenue.  I’m not sure if this is inventive or just lazy.

Basically, I love shorts unconditionally. I will push and stretch them to work whenever and wherever I can.

[Rebecca Taylor shorts at my cousin Lindsay's rehearsal dinner.]

Keep reading…..

[My favorite J.Crew ripstop cargo shorts, found for $14 6 years ago.]

[Cooking in True Religion cut-offs and Gucci clogs.]

Forever on my wish list: these Alexander Wang thermal underwear shorts. I think they would look incredible with boots and a blazer, even though you’re probably making a face like you just smelled a litter box:

Thermal shorts: because practicality was meant to be made fun of.

As fall fast approaches, I’m getting excited to try out some wool shorts from J.Crew with tights. And if I get the nuts, maybe these. The shorts evolution has just begun.

[Alexander McQueen leather shorts, $755 at ShopBop.]

-Carey

Strolling with Rob on Nantucket in... you bet: JCrew shorts!

[Photo courtesy Zofia Photography and Zofia Waig, the most amazing photographer ever. Visit  www.zofiaphoto.com and www.zofiaphotoblog.com.]

I started wearing knickerbockers, or knickers, about eight years ago. I had gotten tired of rolling up my pant legs to avoid chain grease, and the little straps and clips I used were either too loose or too tight. I found a pair of pants somewhere that zipped off to convert to knicker-length, and found that I liked cycling in those better than any others.

Since then, I’ve learned a lot about European city bikes and realized that this same situation could well have been solved by the use of a chainguard or chaincase. But in the interim, I have discovered that I really like wearing knickers, at least as much as I like wearing pants — on and off the bike.

Knickers have a jaunty style that I enjoy. They are versatile and comfortable: they work as well in summer as they do in winter (with the judicious application of a pair of woolies underneath), and they allow freedom of movement that long pants do not. In other words, they’re stylish, comfortable, and functional — my favorite kind of clothing.

When I first started wearing them, knickers for men were hard to find, and not that appealing when I could find them. I gradually began uncovering some vintage gems on eBay; one of my favorites early on was a pair of German cross-country skiing knickers, made of tight felted wool with friction buckles at the cuff, and pockets that zipped up. They are comfortable and wonderfully warm in the winter, even when damp.

Recently, knickers have seen a resurgence in popularity. Various takes on the knickerbocker are being produced by casual clothing and sportswear companies, and there are many independent designers making stylish knickers specifically intended to look good and wear well on a bike. Some of this is doubtless connected to urban cycling, and messenger style. But knickers are, and always have been, great for walking and hiking, and just getting around.

I’ve noticed a trend among the newer array of knickers. There seems to be a need to make up new names for things, even if an old name (or many old names) already exist. I’ve seen knickerbockers for men that are sold as “3/4 pants,” “messenger shorts,” or “long shorts.” Worse, I’ve seen them called “shpants” and “manpris”, as if these mysterious garments are so beyond comprehension that we have to make up cumbersome, unpleasant neologisms. Of course, there’s no need: you can just call them “knickers” or “knickerbockers.”

You see, knickerbockers, and garments like them, have plenty of names already. According to Wikipedia, the word “knickerbocker” was the name of a Dutch settler, whose name later became associated with the breeches worn by the Dutch at that time. (Apparently, even the Dutch were still struggling with the limitations of derailleur bikes back in the 16th century.) The French culottes are simply another version of knickerbocker, though that name later came to refer to womens’ pants of similar design. In women’s fashion, similar garments are even more popular, and are called by a variety of other names, such as capri pants, gauchos, culottes (see above), clamdiggers, or — yes — pedal-pushers.

Some of my favorite knickers from the past few years:

The aforementioned Sport-Schenk German vintage wool skiing knickers (above). Perfect for the cold rainy days of deepest winter, but a bit warm for the shoulder seasons. I wish they had belt loops and a cargo pocket, but other than that they are just perfect. These are the knickerbockers that got me on Wikipedia (hi, Mom!). I found them on eBay, which is a good place to look for things like this. http://www.ebay.com

Bicycle Fixation wool knickers (above). These are sharp and dressy, cut like traditional mens’ trousers and made of fine wool gabardine. They feature a buttoned gusset at the cuff with a peek of red satin material inside. We had to tack down the satin fabric to get it to seat properly, but I believe they have fixed this error in later runs. The fabric is light and appropriate for most any season except hottest summer. In winter I wear them with a layer of woolies underneath. I absolutely love these. Their only flaw is that they are so nice, I don’t want to mess them up, so I save them for dressier occasions. http://www.bicyclefixation.com

Kuhl Boulder shorts (above). These are from the sportier side of things, presumably designed for rock climbing. They are made of a light cotton fabric bonded to a nylon inner facing. I’m not a big fan of cotton, but between the light weight and the nylon, these are quick to dry, and they are very easy to move in. They’re my favorite summer pants, great for cycling, hiking, and farm work. In winter, they’re plenty warm with the addition of a pair of woolies underneath (as above). I am on my second pair and would own three if they hadn’t screwed up the sizes with the new batch. https://www.kuhl-usa.com/

I once read that there are more than 375,000 Varsity level high school basketball players in any given year, of which, less than 600 are offered scholarships to play Division I basketball. One could only imagine the rarity of a proud parent, being able to watch their child beat the odds and land a lucrative NBA contract. How about more than one?

Since Dr. James Naismith started throwing a round ball into the peach basket, we could look back and literally count the number of brother tandems to have played in the NBA on our fingers & toes…at least those worth mentioning. I have compiled a list of the Top10 brother tandems in NBA History:

Mr. Basketball

10. George & Ed Mikan: Before there was Wilt or Shaq, there was George, who brought the Laker franchise there very first NBA championship. Little brother Ed, pitched in a modest 6.7 PPG and 5.5 REB over 300 or so games.

9. Jim & John Paxson: We all remember John Paxson draining a 3 to beat Phoenix in the closing seconds of the ‘93 championship, but did you know older brother Jim had more than double the career points amassing over 11,000 with Portland & Boston?

8. Brent & Mark Price: Too small, too slow & too deliberate, Mark ended his career as the greatest Free-Throw shooter in NBA history. Brent, not nearly the success, had one fine 10.0 PPG and 5.1 AST season with Washington.

7. Jon, Brent & Drew Barry: The only trio of brothers to make the list, none could match the success of Father Rick’s, but all managed to have enough success to make the list. Brent was the first, and still only, “white guy” to win the NBA slam-dunk championship

6. Albert & Bernard King: Bernard established himself early as one of the most prolific scorers in NBA history by shattering all NJ Nets records in his rookie year. With a quick release jumper, Bernard holds the torch in the King family, although Albert threw in 12.1 a game over 9 seasons.

5. Chuck & Wesley Person: The Person combo drained a combined 2370 3-Pointers over the tenure in the NBA, led by The Rifleman, Chuck.

4. Horace & Harvey Grant: By raw stats, this duo may be high on the list, but with Ho’ Grant’s 6 NBA Finals appearances, 4 Rings, and 4 All-NBA Defensive accolades, coupled with Harvey’s modest run of 3 18+ PPG seasons with Washington, they are well-deserving of the 4 spot.

3. Dick & Tom Van Arsdale: Never heard of them? Well, having dominated this list in scoring (except for #1 of course) , Dick & Tom knocked down a combined 29,311 points over there combined careers.

Human Highlight Film

2. Gus & Ray Williams: Although my heart wants to put Gus, and his 1979-1980 championship ring from my ex-Seattle Supersonics at #1, Little brother Ray had an all too short run of success with the NY Knickerbockers.

1. Dominique & Gerald Wilkins: Who could argue, the “Human Highlight Film” and little brother Gerald. 38,404 combined points makes Mom & Dad Wilkins the NBA’s all-time leaders in points scored by their sons. (Sorry Mr. and Mrs. Alcindor, 38,387)

Honorable Mention: Calvin & Kenny Natt, George & Derrick Gervin, Purvis & Eugene Short, Rodney & Scooter McCray, Charles & Ed O’Bannon, and Brooke & Robin Lopez.

I once read that there are more than 375,000 Varsity level high school basketball players in any given year, of which, less than 600 are offered scholarships to play Division I basketball.  One could only imagine the rarity of a proud parent, being able to watch their child beat the odds and land a lucrative NBA contract. How about more than one?

Since Dr. James Naismith started throwing a round ball into the peach basket, we could look back and literally count the number of brother tandems to have played in the NBA on our fingers & toes…at least those worth mentioning.  I have compiled a list of the Top10 brother tandems in  NBA History:

10. George & Ed Mikan: Before there was Wilt or Shaq, there was George, who brought the Laker franchise there very first NBA championship.  Little brother Ed, pitched in a modest 6.7 PPG and 5.5 REB over 300 or so games.

9. Jim & John Paxson: We all remember John Paxson draining a 3 to beat Phoenix in the closing seconds of the ‘93 championship, but did you know older brother Jim had more than double the career points amassing over 11,000 with Portland & Boston?

8. Brent & Mark Price: Too small, too slow & too deliberate, Mark ended his career as the greatest Free-Throw shooter in NBA history.  Brent, not nearly the success, had one fine 10.0 PPG and 5.1 AST season with Washington.

7. Jon, Brent & Drew Barry: The only trio of brothers to make the list, none could match the success of Father Rick’s, but all managed to have enough success to make the list.  Brent was the first, and still only, “white guy” to win the NBA slam-dunk championship

6. Albert & Bernard King: Bernard established himself early as one of the most prolific scorers in NBA history by shattering all NJ Nets records in his rookie year.  With a quick release jumper, Bernard holds the torch in the King family, although Albert threw in 12.1 a game over 9 seasons.

5. Chuck & Wesley Person: The Person combo drained a combined 2370 3-Pointers over the tenure in the NBA, led by The Rifleman, Chuck.

4. Horace & Harvey Grant: By raw stats, this duo may be high on the list, but with Ho’ Grant’s 6 NBA Finals appearances, 4 Rings, and 4 All-NBA Defensive accolades, coupled with Harvey’s modest run of 3 18+ PPG seasons with Washington, they are well-deserving of the 4 spot.

3. Dick & Tom Van Arsdale: Never heard of them?  Well, having dominated this list in scoring (except for #1 of course) , Dick & Tom knocked down a combined 29,311 points over there combined careers.

2. Gus & Ray Williams: Although my heart wants to put Gus, and his 1979-1980 championship ring from my ex-Seattle Supersonics at #1, Little brother Ray had an all too short run of success with the NY Knickerbockers.

1. Dominique & Gerald Wilkins: Who could argue, the “Human Highlight Film” and little brother Gerald.  38,404 combined points makes Mom & Dad Wilkins the NBA’s all-time leaders in points scored by their sons.  (Sorry Mr. and Mrs. Alcindor, 38,387)

Honorable Mention: Calvin & Kenny Natt, George & Derrick Gervin, Purvis & Eugene Short, Rodney & Scooter McCray, Charles & Ed O’Bannon, and Brooke & Robin Lopez.

Vorige week vestigde Voetblah de aandacht op het amateurvoetbal dat geen amateurvoetbal meer is. Vooruitlopend op de invoering van de Topklasse, vliegen amateurclubs hun nieuwste aanwinst per helikopter naar een Open Dag.

Het kan ook anders. Voetblah signaleert in amateurland namelijk het oprukken van clubs met een onverdacht karakter. De studentenverenigingen komen eraan! Nee, niet het lokale corps dat al zuipend van kroeg naar kroeg op zoek is naar potentieel te tuffen ufjes. Nee, het is de vereniging met voetballende studenten. Altijd onbetaald, met een grote liefde voor het spel en bier en bouwend op een grote dosis vriendschap, laten studentenclubs op een steeds hoger niveau zwaar betalende concurrenten achter zich.

Vlaggenschepen van deze tendens zijn het Utrechtse Kampong en de Groningse Knickerbockers. Zij maken dit seizoen hun opwachting in de eerste klasse (Kampong op zondag in 1A, De Knickerbockers op zaterdag in 1E) en hebben beide na twee speeldagen de eerste overwinning al binnen. Ook in andere windstreken onderscheidden studentenclubs als VOC (Rotterdam), Concordia (Delft) zich op prestatief gebied.

Waar stopt deze opmars? Met (nog) twee promoties staan de heren – uitgaande van het doorgaan van de Topklasse – namelijk in de Jupiler League. Daarmee komt voor Voetblah het droombeeld wel heel dichtbij, dat Marco van Basten zich in z’n laatste contractjaar bij Ajax moet buigen over de vraag hoe in godsnaam dat levensgevaarlijke trio lullo’s af te stoppen….

ps Dat voetballende studenten ook gewoon amateurs zijn, bleek afgelopen zaterdag in Leiden. Daar werd de wedstrijd van de wijsneuzen van LSVV’70 tegen Honselersdijk afgelast, omdat niemand lijnen op het veld had gezet. Tja..

Oh My God
Fools Want Noise
October 14th 2008
Split Red Records

Oh My God- Facewash

While I have loved many bands over the years, there have only been few that I really give a shit about. Would you believe it, Chicago’s Oh My God is one of them. I first met Bish, Ig, and Billy many, many years ago when they played Duffy’s Tavern back in Nebraska. I had seen them a few times prior and was very impressed with their performance. My sister also happened to be in town from Chicago and I wanted to take her to a great show at my favorite dingy bar. They did not disappoint.

Rumors circulated that there would be an afterhours party with the band. Memory from that night being hazy, I can’t exactly remember how I scored the address, but I later found myself with my sister and a friend parked in a gravel lot outside a big house in the country. There didn’t seem to be anyone around and our first instinct was to scram, but the van was there and I was determined to meet these freakishly performative people. I don’t remember much about the night save the phrase “flying fish farm”, a bottle of Makers Mark, absolutely delicious vegan lasagna, Ig’s massive hair, and the extremely kind company of Ig and Billy as we sat around a living room table discussing who knows what. My sister, my friend, and I were thrilled to have imposed on their late night festivity.

Later, when booking a show at a venue in Lincoln named Knickerbockers, I learned that Oh My God was on tour again and that my band was to open for them. This had my gut in knots. There was certainly no way we were going to compare. But we suffered through it, knowing what was to take place on the same stage only moments after our breakdown. It was a blissful evening, regardless of the sad circumstance of less than capacity attendance. Eventually I moved to Chicago where I saw them at the Double Door for their tour’s homecoming. This time I brought my cousin and a few friends. They were equally impressed with the band’s visceral performance.

Oh My God is aggressively eccentric. You haven’t ever seen a scissor kick until you’ve seen Billy fling his body around the stage. To give you any idea of their antics, Billy often begins shows dressed as a clown or plays the show in a kimono, or a clown in a kimono. As the show progresses he loses an article of clothing here and there, until he ends up in his skivvies, sweat run makeup, and a white tee-shirt that has some handwritten social critique such as “legalize prostitution” printed across the chest.

I always liked Oh My God’s combination of instruments. Their songs are structured around the drums, bass, and organ. The drums are often schizophrenic, the bass is distorted and fuzzed to excess, and the organ is tweaked beyond recognition. Since those days in Chicago and Nebraska, they have added guitar to the amalgamation. Tragically, while on the road in Ohio during a recent tour in 2007, a car collided with their van head on. Every member received terrible injuries. Billy shattered a kneecap, cracked a few vertebrae, and broke three ribs. Bish broke his left wrist and Ig broke his right. Matt, playing guitar on tour, broke his tibia, nose, and thumb. To be honest, I thought the band was through. It is extremely difficult to tour year in and out, record after record, only to be forced to postpone an upcoming record release and take a year off for physical therapy, psychologically to start again. I can only imagine the difficulties they encountered. I wished them the best in a dire situation.

So imagine my surprise when Frederick Foxtrott received a copy of their new record for review. The triumph of this band only underscores their tenacity and energy. While I have always said that Oh My God’s live show never quite translates onto plastic, their newest effort Fools Want Noise comes closest to capturing the frenetic display on stage, although I will always have a place in my heart for Interrogations & Confessions. New to the band are drummer Dathan DeVore and guitarist Anthony Gravino. While I have not witnessed Oh My God play in their current incarnation, I assume they will have all the excess that my memory reports.

Fools Want Noise continues Oh My God’s irreverent tradition. Billy’s voice is steeped in rhythm and blues, imbuing the rugged bass lines and industrial organ with hooks and catchy phrases that snare even the most indifferent of listeners. The melodies were forged in a popcentric factory. Oh My God is a candy coated cog. Though this combination makes for an unlikely surfacing into the mainstream, make no mistake, Fools Want Noise is infectious. Oh My God is an indulgent, intense and socially seditious band.

Every track on this record attracts the listener as much as it challenges them. Billy exudes a libertine persona that shuns social standards with confrontational words. They don’t keep safe any particular agenda; they prescribe an abandonment of all extremes, all the while shanking the status quo. Even in some of their contradiction the band seeks beauty. Billy’s soliciting eyebrows and cocky form sing songs about failure, vulnerability, and tragic love. Oh My God’s words are provocative in that they judge against judgment, while at the same time projecting themselves as iconoclasts seeking to deliberately break from the cagey grip of modern expectations. This allows some of the more saccharine elements of Oh My God’s music to be enjoyed in an abnormal context instead from the inhibiting and trite perspective of the masses.

It is nice to see you back. Catch you in NYC.

-FF

7/9

http://www.ohmygodmusic.com
http://www.myspace.com/ohmygod

Other Music
Oh My God EP- 2000
Action!- 2002
Interrogations & Confessions- 2003
You’re Too Straight to Love Me- 2004

Tour
Sept 18, 2008 Founders Brewery Grand Rapids, MI
Sept 19, 2008 The Loading Dock Traverse City, MI
Sept 20, 2008 DIY Street Fair Ferndale, MI
Sept 20, 2008 The Belmont Hamtramck, MI
Sept 25, 2008 Midpoint Music Cincinnati, OH
Sept 26, 2008 (Scene) Metrospace Lansing, MI
Sept 26, 2008 Mac’s Bar Lansing, MI
Sept 27, 2008 Beauty & the Beat Flint, MI
Sept 28, 2008 Allegheny College Meadville, PA
Sept 29, 2008 Smog @ Bard Annondale On Hudson, NY
Sept 30, 2008 Daniel Street Club Milford, CT
Oct 01, 2008 Pianos York, NY
Oct 02, 2008 Mohawk Place Buffalo, NY
Oct 03, 2008 Casa Cantina Athens, OH
Oct 04, 2008 Howard’s Club H Bowling Green, OH
Oct 10, 2008 Doug’s Rockhouse Aurora, IL
Oct 11, 2008 Subterranean Chicago, IL
Oct 16, 2008 The House Dekalb, IL
Oct 17, 2008 Triple Rock Minneapolis, MN
Oct 18, 2008 Cactus Club Milwaukee, WI
Oct 23, 2008 Cowboy Monkey Champaign, IL
Oct 24, 2008 Bluebird St. Louis, MO
Oct 25, 2008 Record Bar Kansas City, MO
Oct 26, 2008 Duffy’s Lincoln, NE
Oct 27, TBA Pittsburg, KS
Oct 28, 2008 Hailey’s Denton, TX
Oct 29, 2008 Beerland Austin, TX
Oct 30, 2008 TBA Paso, TX
Oct 31, 2008 Hotel Congress Tucson, AZ
Nov 01, 2008 Modified Arts Phoenix, AZ
Nov 02, 2008 The Mint Los Angeles, CA
Nov 03, 2008 Bottom of the Hill San Francisco, CA
Nov 05, 2008 TBA Rapid City, SD
Nov 06, 2008 Nutty’s North Sioux Falls, SD
Nov 07, 2008 Maya Jane’s Vermillion, SD
Nov 08, 2008 Maintenance Shop Ames, IA

Well, here’s the new and improved sheep soaker! I am quite happy with the outcome and thank you guys for your feedback. I will be posting this soaker in the shop next week when I am able to get some fabulous photos of the soaker in action on my littlest model.

It’s interesting because our wee one often decides she will not be my model. She goes on strike and refuses to come anywhere near me when I beckon her with a newly fashioned piece of sweetness. Well, this item was definitely different. It is the first and only item she has cried about when it is removed from her body. It’s the only items she insists should be returned to her bum immediately. I hate to break her little heart, but just like the other items I put her in for dress up photos and fittings, this one is going to another baby bear somewhere out there!

Here’s the latest creation for Baby Bear Bums. Can you tell what it is? I have changed the ears a couple times and I am thinking of removing the mouth (hence, the hand covering it to give you an idea) and replacing it with simply a black nose and lined mouth.

This pair is my first knicker style with the longer cuffs that actually hug the knees. Does anyone remember knickers knickerbockers?! It’s been a long time since I’ve even heard the word uttered, and little did I know that every time my mom used the term “knickers” she was mistakenly saying I was wearing cute underwear – oh the things we learn through wiki! Now I am conflicted because soakers truly are a form of underwear, but Baby Bear Bums are made to show off; so, are they knickers or knickerbockers? This whole conundrum reminds me of one of my most favorite avatars.

I suppose that’s enough to say that Baby Bear Bums soakers can be called knickers or knickerbockers so as not to deject the innocent exhibitionist in our wee ones! After all, how long will they actually get to enjoy the freedom of wearing their skivvies for all to see?

Don’t forget to give me your two cents, please! Should the lamb have a simple nose and line mouth or should I leave the gaping, chomping grass mouth as is?

In a recent piece about the Buckinghams I wrote about the British musical invasion of the Sixties and how it caused many American bands to change, but some groups didn’t just emulate the haircuts and quaint English-style suits. They also made a conscious effort to sound like some of the biggest British bands.

The Knickerbockers came together in the early Sixties, a New Jersey group that was the inspiration of brothers Robert and John Cecchino, who would take the stage names Beau Charles and John Charles. Both brothers played guitar and sang, and were soon joined by drummer Jimmy Walker and saxman Buddy Randell, both of whom also knew their way around a vocal. The latter — whose real name was William Crandall — was probably the most experienced of the bunch, since he’d been a member of an earlier New Jersey group, the Royal Teens, who’d struck gold with 1958’s “Short Shorts.”

After kicking around for a while, the Knickerbockers managed to get a recording contract and the group’s first hit — 1966’s “Lies” — soon followed. Most music historians consider it to be the group’s most obvious attempt at sounding like the Beatles, and the record did end up being their biggest seller. (Video below.) Unfortunately, it didn’t quite make it into the Top Ten, and subsequent chart appearances with “One Track Mind” and “High On Love” were even lower, although the latter was a pretty good song.

Whether the Knickerbockers sounded anything like the Beatles is a matter of opinion, but they certainly didn’t have the same kind of staying power. Various types of problems with the recording company might have been a contributing factor, but whatever the reasons the guys eventually drifted apart. Although various members of the group have reunited through the years in one form or another, Jersey’s answer to the Beatles was pretty much a Sixties thing.

Summer shows are a double edged sword aren’t they? The heat makes us acutely aware of the sticky auras enveloping ourselves and everyone around us. Forced to mingle, we herd ourselves into the small venue or cram ourselves as close as possible against the outdoor stage, sacrificing our personal space like the legions of L Train morning commuters riding in from northern Brooklyn. But the shows, they are amazing and they are aplenty. This summer looks to be very promising indeed.

Of course for me it has gotten off to a piss poor start. I intended to write a feature about a Norwegian band called Pirate Love. It would not only review their tiny EP, but talk about their live show as well. I was fortunate enough to be guest-listed for last Thursday’s performance at Pianos. A few companions and I had arrived early for a little pre-show drinking. I bullshitted with the bar-back, discovering that he is from Nebraska and that we know a few of the same folks—an altogether enjoyable experience.

Then it turns out that my name slipped through the cracks and was omitted from the guest-list. What to do? I had money for beer or the show, and seeing as one of the expenses was unforeseen, like any normal human being I chose the beer. A few other friends arrived at Pianos later that night. They relayed to me the following day that Pirate Love played a great show. From what I gather it would be a big mistake to miss these guys next time they are in town.

The following night a few friends and I were off to Prospect Park to catch Blonde Redhead. The weather, we can all remember, had been shitty the past couple of days, and it wasn’t looking good for our Friday plans. Again we arrived a bit early and stopped at a pub to drink some pints of Bass and tequila shots. After drinks we began walking toward the park as it began to sprinkle and spit. The line into the venue was very long, but clearly the fans were willing to suffer the rain—for a while. When it came time to open the gates, the park workers kept the doors closed. What was at first a slow drizzle turned into a down pour and no umbrella could really do the job. So, defeated, we walked back the F Train and headed on home. When we finally arrived in Bushwick the rain had passed and the sun broke through. Mother fucker, two shows in two days blown—and we actually made it to the venues. We did the best we could to make up for the lost time. We bought and ate some baguette, stinky cheese, and pastis while watching the sun go down on our converted factory roof.

What will come of the rest of summer is anyone’s guess but I certainly look forward to actually getting inside venues. As always, there is a standing invitation for suggestions on venues and bands. Let us know what should be seen and where. Next week, we go to Wilco opened by Yo La Tengo at Coney Island’s ill-named Keyspan Park. I haven’t seen these guys in a while, although I was able to get a copy of their newest effort months ago. A review is certainly pending.

But listen people…the best news of the week is that Sunny Day Real Estate will be reuniting for a 20 date tour (see dates below), supporting the rerelease of their first two records Diary and LP2. My fucking God this is amazing! Jeremy Enigk is without a doubt a major hero of mine. I feel slightly ashamed that the last time I got the chance to talk with him was 2003 and I was quite drunk. My brother and I drank dirty gin martinis until he puked and was booted from the venue. It was his 21st birthday. I felt like such a dick. My brother’s inebriation didn’t stop from seeing what was then a Fire Theft show at a joint called Knickerbockers. I asked Enigk something to the effect of “Jesus or Buddha?” He snarked back at me and said “Both.”

Luckily he wasn’t too offended about my mocking allusion to his past exploits in Christianity. He went on to disclose that his favorite band is The Who. After the show I got to sit in the booth with Nate Mendel and William Goldsmith. I am not sure how I pulled it off, but it was one of the greatest moments I’ve had. We’ll see what we can do this time. Although they play at Terminal 5, a shitty venue with what seems like a million people, half of whom will be complete assholes because they hate the music. Their friends dragged them there. Enigk had an amazing showing at the Bowery Ballroom supporting his 2006 solo record World Waits. This is easily the most anticipated reunion of the decade. I wonder what else, if anything, could top it.

Here are the calendars for a few of the better NYC venues:

Union Pool
Trash Bar
Mercury Lounge
Music Hall of Williamsburg
Bowery Ballroom
The Bellhouse
Death by Audio
Cake Shop
Pete’s Candy Store
Fontana’s
Piano’s

Sunny Day Real Estate Tour Schedule
September 17 Vancouver, BC/Commodore Ballroom
September 18 Portland/Crystal Ballroom (Musicfest NW)
September 20 Salt Lake City/Murray Theater
September 21 Denver/Ogden Theater
September 23 Minneapolis/First Avenue
September 24 Chicago/Metro
September 25 Detroit/St Andrews Hall
September 27 New York/Terminal 5
September 28 Boston/House of Blues
September 30 Washington DC/930 Club
October 1 Philadelphia/Trocadero
October 3 Atlanta/CW Center Stage
October 5 Dallas/Granada Theater
October 6 Houston/Warehouse Live
October 7 Austin/La Zona Rosa
October 9 Tempe/Marquee Theatre
October 10 Anaheim/House of Blues
October 11 Los Angeles/Henry Fonda Theater
October 13 San Francisco/Fillmore
October 15 Spokane/Knitting Factory
October 16 Seattle/Paramount Theatre

This is a picture of my dad’s parents in the late 1920’s:

I know the first question on your mind and I’ll just say YES HE’S WEARING KNICKERS.  Or, as they were more formally known at that time, knickerbockers.  Shortly after that, “knickers” became slang for ladies’ . . . ahem . . . undergarments . . . and then those pants you see up there in the picture went out of style (what a crazy coincidence).  He’s also wearing a bow-tie which is so darn delightful that I can’t see straight.  The only thing more delightful is the fact that her name was Minnie.  Minnie!

The reason I call them “my dad’s parents” rather than “my grandparents” is because I never knew them.  In fact, I never even came close to knowing them; they died before my dad was done with school, within 6 months of one another.  Don’t you want to give my dad a great big hug?  I know I do.  So I don’t know much about them and honestly, I never really have tried all that hard to find out.  But today, this afternoon, my dad was over at our house and I looked at him and realized there is a whole lot I don’t know about his past.  I don’t know what his parents were like, what kind of house he lived in, where he went to elementary school, what he liked to do when he was, I don’t know, 8-years-old?  The more I thought about it, the more it started to kind of freak me out.  And it really freaked me out to think about if I’d realized all this after he was gone, when he wasn’t there to ask.  Oh man, that made me sad.  And moved me to action.

So I asked him some questions today.  And in the course of about 40 minutes, I learned more about his childhood than I had learned in the whole rest of my life.  Aside from feeling like a complete and utter loser for not ever asking these questions before, it was really great.  I kept finding myself saying “What?  WHAT? Really?  I never EVER knew that.  Wow.”  Like when he told me that the summer he turned 6-years-old, he didn’t leave his house or his backyard because his older sister (by ELEVEN MONTHS, please give Minnie some sort of award in Heaven RIGHT THIS INSTANT) had polio and so he was quarantined as well.  Quarantined.  The.  Whole.  Summer.  Tell that to your kids the next time they complain about being strapped in their carseat for the 7 minute ride to school.

My dad was born in 1941.  His parents had been married for over a decade and had tried for all that time to have kids.  They had his older sister, got pregnant immediately afterward and had two kids born within one year of each other.  I’m thinking this is one of those “Be careful what you ask for” things, right?  Anyway, here is a picture of my dad and his mom in 1942:

There are several things I love about this picture, starting with her FABULOUS shoes.  If you know me, you know I love a chunky shoe with flair but a touch of manliness to it.  Well, this must be where I got it.  A few other surface things I love are the clothes on the line in the background, the flower in her hair, my dad’s totally cliche and adorable white baby shoes, the very loved teddy bear in the left corner of the photo, you get the drift.  Dig a little deeper and . . .  I love the way he is looking at her, oh BOY do sons love their mommies.  Love love LOVE them.  And another thing I love is that I see a little of myself in her.  You might not (if you even know me) but I do, and that’s what I love.  Maybe it’s the expression on her face or maybe it’s how she’s crossing her legs or maybe it’s the way she’s holding him with her  arms and her hands like that — whatever it is, I see myself there.  It may be as simple as bonding to her, mother to mother, I don’t know.  But after hearing some stories about her and listening to him describe these photos, I do, for the first time, think of her as my grandmother.

My dad said Minnie was a little reserved when you first met her but she blossomed when she was around those she knew well.  He said she had content and happy times but also contemplative ones, moments she absorbed things around her and seemed quieted by them.  He said she loved, LOVED, baseball.  He told me how when he was little, the world series’ games were played during the day, instead of at night like now, and he and his sister would come home from school and the whole house would be dark.  And they would find her in the living room, listening to the game, totally absorbed.  He loved that about her.

Minnie died from the injuries she sustained in a kitchen fire in their home.  She was alone in the house at the time.  His dad died 6 months later of a heart attack.  My dad is a doctor, basically a scientist, and he still to this day says he is pretty sure that his dad’s heart just plain broke from the sadness of his wife’s death.  Which actually makes my heart hurt, too.

I’ve said this before when I was telling you about my grandfather, my mom’s dad, who was a B-24 pilot in WWII, but I’ll say it again.  If your parents or grandparents are around and are able, take an afternoon sometime.  Just go and ask them some questions about what it was like when they were growing up.  It can sometimes be a little difficult to get them talking about the past, I know, but if you just ask enough random, specific questions (What did you do after school in junior high?  What did your bedroom look like?  What did you have for dinner?  Where did you go, if anywhere, for vacation?  Who was your first kiss?  What was your first car?  On and on, you get the idea), eventually you will start getting some information from them that will pretty much blow you away.  There is no way on God’s green earth that you will be sorry you asked, even if there is some sad stuff in there or some scary stuff in there or some stuff you didn’t know they ever had to deal with in there.  You’ll look at them with new eyes and, most likely, more respect and admiration than you did before.  Everyone has a story, we’ve heard that a million times, but it’s true.  And your parents’ story and your grandparents’ story is part of your story, so you better learn it.  It’s part of who you are.

To end on another note, take a look at my dad in his 1942 version of an exersaucer:

My god, that thing is a DEATH TRAP.  They pretty much constructed that thing so that whichever direction he leaned, ever so slightly, he’d get scratched or stabbed or pinched by some rusty, tetanus-ridden corner of that thing when it fell over on him.  Plus, look closely — it doesn’t play music or tell a story or shoot flashing lights or ANYTHING.  The POOR POOR BABY.  

Thanks, Dad, for answering my questions today.  It means more to me than you know.

Dwyane Wade has long been considered the top of the second tier of NBA Super Stars, however, after seeing him play the Knicks a couple weeks ago, I could not help but marvel in this guys greatness. It is truly rare that we get to see a guy that has the ability to take over a game single handedly and win it for your team. Dwyane has what they the “IT Factor”

He proved it again last night with an unbelievable display that you truly had to see to believe. Wade scored 48 points, 12 assists and 4 steals and I believe there were a couple of blocks in their as well. The man has had an unreal couple of weeks.

Ask the Toronto Raptors. He put up 42 points and eight assists on them Friday, then a day later later scored 25 points, 12 assists and four steals in a loss to James’ Cavs. The week before, he had rallied the Heat from a 16-point deficit against the Knicks by torching them for 46 points — 24 in the fourth quarter. Factor in his 31 points and 16 assists against Detroit on Feb. 24 and his 50 points against Orlando two days before that, and no wonder the league’s top scorer has aroused the interest of the same fan base that ignored him a season ago.

And as much as I am a LeBron fan and look forward to seeing him in a Knicks uniform, I have to give Dwyane Wade my vote for MVP this year. Thats right you heard me. Dwyane Wade MVP!! The measuring stick that I have always used to see who I felt would be MVP would be to remove that player from the team and see how they are without him. Both the Heat and Cavs would be pretty terrible but if you go down the line and the two teams met head to head it would be no contest. Dwayne Wade means more to the Heat the LeBron means to the Cavaliers.

I am not alone in the thought that Wade should be a candidate either….just watch this video courtesy of ESPN.com

As March Madness approaches and the murmurs of anticipation grow around the world of college basketball, we just thought we would prepare you with a little foretaste of probably the greatest tournament in all of sports.

Gus Johnson, one of the signature voices  of the tourney on CBS, made this vintage Gus call on Al Harrington’s 3 pointer…

Take a listen.

Now if that doesn’t get you in the mood for madness. I’m not sure what will.

With the firing of Tom Renney from the NY Rangers today, Bobby and I got to talking about the state of NY sports and we decided that things were pretty much in shambles across the board. And, so here was my initial take on the situation

NY teams are a mess, pretty much across the board, when you think about it:
the rangers are sliding down the standings like a kid down a muddy hill
the isles and just a plain and simple mud puddle disguising a cesspool at the bottom of the hill
the mets, are the mets and omar has built a team made for failure, they’re a mud puddle waiting to become quicksand
the yanks got arod circus and the kids stomping in the mud puddle are just making more mud puddles
the knickerbockers are still fighting for their lives, they are a mud puddle with a leaky hose draining in it
the jets need a qb in the worst way, a mud puddle that doesn’t seem to every dry up
and the giants, well, they are a dry puddle just waiting for the rain to fall again

and well, there you have it folks, NY sports in distress almost as much as wall street, enjoy the sloppy muddy mess

Watch the 2009 Nba Slam Dunk Champion Nate Robinson of the New York Knicks dunk over Biff on David Letterman last night. (feb. 19th)  (I Voted for you Nate, do your thang)

Get busy choking in the playoffs with these gems.

Adidas is celebrating 60 years, the Adidas Decade High as seen here are one of the first releases.

Calz1.