Gerry Callahan just ruined WEEI for me

Well, that's it for me and WEEI for a while, at least in the mornings. Gerry Callahan just called Jesus Christ "stupid."

It gets better: It wasn't everything about Jesus that was stupid, just the whole forgiveness thing. You know, love your neighbor, turn the other cheek, "forgive them father, they know not what they do." That thing.

I'm not even religious, and I found that offensive.

The duo were talking about the nun in Mogadishu who was shot by Muslim extremists as a response to the Pope's speech last week. As she lay dying, she mumbled "I forgive you" over and over.

This had Callahan tied in fits, saying she was an idiot for forgiving two guys who shot her, and that her action essentially gave them permission to kill more nuns. When John Dennis calmly tried to explain that she was trying to emulatre Christ, and retold the whole "forgive them father" story, Callahan called Jesus stupid for forgiving the people who killed him.

Never mind that it's the basis of the entire Christian belief system. Forgiving others is stupid, because it gets in the way of Gerry's bloodlust and the President's political interests. What a jerk.

Kerry Healy needs a new music guy

Watching the post-election coverage last night was dull dull dull. But one thing caught my attention: When Kerry Healy was introduced, the loudspeakers at the hall started playing Van Halen (OK, Van Hagar's) "Dreams."

Dreams? As in, "My hope to be the next governor is a dream?"

Sheesh.

Deval Patrick for governor

The primary is tomorrow, so I have an endorsement for my four readers: Deval Patrick for governor.

There are competing interests in this race: The best interests of Massachusetts and the best interests of the Democratic Party. These are the interests presented by the candidates. And while most voters don't necessarily care about the health of any one political party, I do.

Tom Reilly, unfortunately, is not a good fit for either role. His deplorable performance in the first televised debate was the latest in a string of gaffes, and that shows that he's a good guy who isn't ready for the type of politics a governor must deal with on a day to day basis. He may have won the second debate, but the fire he showed then was tempered by the first debate's ersatz cries of indignation over the release of readily-available financial records.

Both Patrick and Chris Gabrieli, however, would be good governors, I suspect. Gabrieli has shown a better grasp of the finer details of policymaking and would thus be a stronger player on Beacon Hill.

Gabrieli is also more committed to the job. A governor Gabrieli would run for re-election until his own wake. This is his ceiling as a politician; Good humor aside, he's not built for a federal race at any level. And this seems like a job he wants, and not a weigh station for bigger and better things. As governor, Gabrieli would work hard for the interests of the state.

So would Patrick, although perhaps not as effectively as Gabrieli. Yet.

That's the second consideration in this election: Deval Patrick is still green, but he's a candidate that is built for higher office. The Democratic Party needs to develop candidates for national offices, and Patrick could be a key player in that.

I am very wary of giving the governor's office to another politician angling for a different job, but Patrick has the dynamism, charisma, and ideas that will translate well into a senatorial bid. He even has the build of a presidential candidate. I'm not running the guy for president just yet; I'm just saying his background, public speaking abilities, policy ideas and charisma are the foundations of a presidential candidate. Whether he has the temperament is still a question, especially after the second debate last week.

The larger picture is a candidate who will do a good job as governor, and has the ability to learn on the job and groom himself for higher office. Although that means he's likely in the job for one or perhaps two terms, it may be a short term we can live with.

I lamented to my friend that there was no senatorial opening for Patrick, because that would be a great fit for him, and it would give us Gabrieli in the state house. Maybe that's the dream scenario, but it's not reality. I hope that Gabrieli doesn't hang it up and runs again when Patrick does take that next step.

Racism! at the Stop n' Shop

I was a little sort on cash the other day, so I took my half filled jar of coins and went to the local Stop n' Shop. They have those Coinstar machines, which take a big wet bite out of your total payout (like 9%), but are super convenient.

I walk in the store, and there's a line to use the machine. There was a young Latino couple at the machine, some middle-aged white lady and then me. The young couple's engaged in light conversation in Spanish and pulling out obscene amounts of change from plastic bags. It's clear they've been there for a while, because their total's over $100, even with another bag of change to go.

The lady in front of me turns around and looks at me, which I thought was weird. I live in Revere. People don't look at each other.

When the couple pulls out their second bag of change, the wife looks back at the line (there's someone behind me now) and smiles. The lady in front of me turns around again and gives me a "Can you believe this?" look. What the Hell? I realize that this is some sort of trial by fire for this woman, and that she thinks I'm her partner in adversity.

I can't figure out why she was so agitated that people sometimes have a lot of change. So I sort of suck in my bottom lip and make my eyes all wide, trying to convey a "Hey, what are you gonna do?" sort of look.

The couple finally ends after rolling through like $250 worth of change. No lie. They must have set some sort of Coinstar record. Now it's put-upon lady's turn at the machine.

She gets to the first menu on the machine, which asks if you want the instructions in English or Espanol. She audibly grunts and SMACKS the English button. All of a sudden, everything is clear; she's not upset some couple took a long time at the machine; she's upset some Latino couple took a long time at the machine.

Great. Some racist is trying to make communion with me in the Stop n' Shop.

She punches through the menus and the machine is ready to take her change. Except she doesn't know what to do. The racist lady doesn't know how to use a Coinstar machine, even though the instructions—helpfully written in English, as requested—are on the screen, next to the picture of change falling into the tray.

"What? How does this work?" she asks.

"You have to put your change in that tray and slide it down the slot on the side."

"Oh! OK, thank you!"

So she dumps her change in the tray…and freezes again.

"Now what?"

"Now lift the tray and the coins will fall into the slot."

"Oh! Oh, OK. Thank you again."

Now she grabs the handle and pulls the tray up, dumping all her change into the slot and overwhelming the machine. It accepts like $7 of change from her and rejects the remaining $20-something, which falls into the rejected coin tray.

"What? What happened?" she asks.

"It didn't read the change. You have to take it out of that bottom tray and try again."

"OK, you know what? I don't have time for this, and I certainly don't have the BALLS of that OTHER couple. I'm just going to put this change back in my bag [ed. Note: She really was giving a play by play like this] and take my slip for $7. Thanks for your help."

Oy.

A good first step

The Hancock Tower is up for sale. That's step one. Step two is convincing the buyer to re-open the observatory that was surreptitiously closed for "security reasons" after September 11.

292

Remember that number. 292.

Yum!

Have you had the news cookies at Dunkin Donuts? Sweet Lord God, they're good.

I had gotten one the other day, and I couldn't believe it. So when I went to my regular Dunks today the guy asked if I wanted my regular, and I said, "No, I think I'll have one of them cookies instead."

Both he and this other worker literally cheered when I said that. Seriously. They said they were sent to learn how to bake them and stuff, and people were taking home as many as they could after the session was over.

So I asked about that story in the Globe, saying Dunks was going to expand to lunch foods and stuff. They seemed less enthusiastic. "There's one in Nashua selling hot dogs," said the guy with a sigh. "That's weird. I can't get used to that." Amen.

If things break the right way, I could be wearing a totally cool patch. Like a pirate.

I got contacts like a month and a half ago, right before I flew out to Chicago. When I got back I had the doctor adjust my prescription, and he gave me a pair that was supposed to last me a month. That was five weeks ago. OK.

Here's the thing; I'm a lazy bastard, so I never went and got a new box of the contacts. I put mine in yesterday morning and it felt sort of normal, except the left eye was giving me a little trouble. But it didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary, so I just went to work.

After about two hours, the itchiness turned into some very low level pain, and I took my left contact out. It was partially torn. This was at like 10 am. But everything still seemed manageable, so I did a little research online and found the closest Wal-Mart. I don't like shopping there because of their labor problems, but I figure the contacts aren't made in a sweatshop and they offer really big rebates and stuff. The closest one is in Salem, like 20 minutes away.

At about noon I hopped in the car and head out there, and I found the smallest, most busted looking Wal-Mart you've ever seen. And there's no optometrist inside, so I figured I was screwed. But I decided to take a shot at the pharmacy anyway. While I was waiting for the one guy to come see me, my eye all of a sudden started bugging out. Like searing pain, all at once. I pulled the contact out, and it was completely torn apart. A whole huge side was missing, and presumably its floating behind my eyeball, because I could never find it.

The guy finally came over and I asked if they carry boxes of contact lenses. He said no. OK, where is there an eye place around here that would? He didn't know, because he lives "on the other side of the state." I swear to God he said that. Then he told me to ask the girl at customer service.

So I go over to customer service, and the girl (she was like 16) was ringing up customers, because this was the smallest most busted Wal-Mart ever. I finally get to her and asked where in the area I could get a contact lens prescription filled. Without looking at me, she says "try our pharmacy over there," and points back to where I came from. No, I explained, I talked to the pharmacist and he doesn't have contact lenses there.

She finally stopped and looked at me, and literally recoiled with disgust. This was the first indication I had that my eye at that point looked disgusting. She said to try the CVS up the street, which I knew absolutely wouldn't carry contact lenses. Thanks, I said, and left.

When I get to the car, I removed the other contact lens because walking around with just one was actually worse than nothing at all. Then I pulled down the visor mirror, and my eye looked like Sauron from the Lord of the Rings movie. I have never seen an eye that red and bloodshot in all my life. Wicked gross.

Of course, I went to CVS anyway, and sure enough they didn't have contacts, and suggested I try the mall. But I'm now 50 minutes into a one hour lunch break, and I have a 20-minute drive back to work. So I couldn't go to the mall.

I was forced to head back and wear the prescription sunglasses I keep in my car. Sunglasses in the office. I looked like a total jerk for the rest of the day. One friend helpfully offered to make me an eye patch. Everyone else just laughed at me. Supportive bastards.

Because really, what's a nation without borders?

The New York Times has accomplished what many have said could never be done: They have drawn the first true border between Red Sox and Yankee nations. It's a fun read, and the author takes an appropriately goofy tack in declaring any given town's allegiance, be it the sale of logo lighters, a flag on a far-off porch, or the say so of a diner operator.

And we're winning the war! All of Massachusetts is solidly behind the Sox, while there are enclaves of Sox territory in New York state. And the Sox have made a real beachhead across the Connecticut River, which was considered the traditional redoubt between Sox and Yankee country. For God's sake, we already control ESPN's headquarters! Can Waterbury be that far behind? It's like Island hopping to Japan in World War II; Bristol to Waterbury to New Haven to Bridgeport to-- Well, OK, maybe they can keep Bridgeport.

NESN: no sense of humor

So Youtube has taken the Dennis Leary video down, dammit. But AlterNet to the rescue! Hat tip to Jason at HappyScrappy for finding the new version. And a hat tip to Universal Hub and Andrew Sullivan for pointing me to this in the first place.

Dennis Leary is my hero

And don't forget Lenny Clarke, either. The two just roast Mel Gibson during last night's Red Sox game. Priceless.

UPDATE: So Youtube has taken the video down, dammit. But AlterNet to the rescue! Hat tip to Jason at HappyScrappy for finding the new version. And a hat tip to Universal Hub and Andrew Sullivan for pointing me to this in the first place.

This was my friends' apartment

Did you hear about the fire yesterday in Shrewsbury? My friends Seth and Allissa lived there. They got out OK, but one of their cats didn't make it. If you look at the photos, they lived on the top floor, where all the firefighters are walking around. The roof over their apartment collpased.

I drove out to see them last night, along with another friend. We stopped by the place before meeting up, and it was just stunning to see the damage and breathe in that smell of burning wood. Just awful.

Joe Lieberman: Using fear to win votes

Joe Lieberman is using yesterday's exposed terror plot for his own personal gain. It's absolutely vile:

"If we just pick up like Ned Lamont wants us to do, get out by a date certain, it will be taken as a tremendous victory by the same people who wanted to blow up these planes in this plot hatched in England. It will strengthen them and they will strike again."

So Joe's decided to make political hay by accusing his Democratic opponent of cutting and running in Iraq, a war which Joe says makes us safer from terrorist attacks like that one that was planned in England and exposed yesterday. And he doesn't understand why he's so closely linked to President Bush and VP Cheney. Sheesh.

Joe's statement is misguided in so many ways, we can actually list them out:

1. By Joe's logic, we should invade England and "take the fight to them" over there. These were British citizens who planned this attack, after all.
   
2. You can't level foreign policy rebukes in a pizza parlor. Or any place called a parlor for that matter. No discussion about the situation in Darfur while you're in line for a Fribble at Friendly's. Got it?
   
3. This quote: "How the heck can we be in a battle in which we are fighting as Democrats and Republicans against each other when these terrorists certainly don't distinguish based on party affiliation?" makes absolutely no sense. Democrats and Republicans are fighting "this battle," but "this battle" is the global war on terror, but it could be the war in Iraq, and we're fighting—literally, it seems—against each other, but we're also fighting the terrorists (or Iraqis), so we should stop physically harming ourselves, or…huh? I understand you're speaking extemporaneously, but seriously, didn't you review this in the car on the way over?
   
4. Maybe, when we defeat the terrorists, they will then decide to wage war as Independents.
   
5. Godwin's law is in effect: Joe used the Nazis to make his point. He loses the election and now owes everyone here a soda.
   
6. Department of redundancy department: All Soviets were communists, Joe.
   
7. Picking up and leaving in Iraq is a morale boost for terrorists. That's opposed to, say, keeping troops in Iraq to be killed by said terrorists.

Again with the helicopter moms!

Good God almighty, make it stop!

Apparently, the Globe can't. stop. talking. about. "Helicopter parents." Today's version of the same story: Parents have a hard time detaching themselves to kids at camp.

Stories of helicopter parents -- so called because they hover ever so close to
their children -- abound among baby boomers. Competitive, overbearing, and
unwilling to let go, they have changed the flavor of kindergarten enrollment,
Little League cheering sections, and college admissions. Now, 140 years after
the first privileged boys trekked out of grimy Northeastern cities and into the
woods for a season of fresh air and exercise, those parents are redefining the
way summer camps are run, too.

I'm not saying it isn't interesting, I'm just saying it loses value when you run the same damn story over and over. Enough already.

This all reminds me of Jack Shafer's fun thread on Slate, where he excoriates newspapers for running with stupid, uninformed articles about the non-present Meth explosion in our country. Seriously, Dan Kennedy, where are you on this?

They were still doing this?

OK, I understand that politicians are the most humorless people on Earth (save Barney Frank, of course), but really: After three-plus years, they were still calling them "freedom fries?"

The congressional cafeteria: Run by that uncle who tells the same joke at every Thanksgiving.

The Boston Globe: Same stories, year after year

The recent coup at the Globe has left the venerable newspaper in the hands of crazy old people from my neighborhood. They've struck again today, picking up an AP story from a far off place (New Haven) to reiterate the same point they made in an editorial last week and an article three weeks ago: Today's parent are super control freaks and their kids are mush-headed idiots:

They have researched discount textbook outlets, campus safety, even individual professors. But they are not honor students; they are not students at all. They are "helicopter" parents, so dubbed for their tendency to hover, prepared to swoop in at a moment's notice lest harm befall their progeny.

But it doesn't stop there, this lunacy dates back to last year, when the Globe reported about how today's parents, um, are super control freaks and their kids are mush-headed idiots.

Theories abound to explain the growing ranks of what administrators call ''helicopter parents" who hover over their offspring. Hypotheses range from the competitive frenzy over school success to the high cost of college education and the trend toward smaller families, in which children make decisions with their parents.

Perhaps it wasn't a coup after all, but an obsessed editor assigning and picking up stories on the same damn theme to fulfill her off-to-college article quota? Or the Boston Globe just out of ideas?

Whole state agencies bend to my will

How about that? I, the guy who gets like four visits a day to his site, somehow got the MBTA to change the not-really-a-password problem, which exposed the e-mail addresses submitted to an online survey. They even left a comment on my original post.

That's what you didn't know about me; I got pull.

For my next trick, I'll try to convince them to eliminate the proposed fare double-standard for people without Charlie Cards, to green light the promised red-blue connector, and to sell Meth to pay for basic maintenance. What do you say, guys?

OK, maybe not the Meth part. But hey, at least they were good enough to fix the loophole. Thank you. The problem, however, is now you can't see the results of the poll, either. If the powers that be at the MBTA (or their PR firm) are still reading over here, how about releasing the poll results for everyone to see? When you're done collecting the info, of course.

MBTA: e-mail snitches

So my buddy Rob decided to take the T Web site redesign survey yesterday. After he was done, he clicked on the link to see the overall results of the survey. That took him to a page asking for a password.

Most people would quit there, but Rob's a daredevil. He tried the first thing he could think of as a password for the MBTA: Charlie. It worked.

And what Rob found was the survey results, along with the e-mail addresses of everyone who submitted the info to the survey.

Yes, that's a small transgression, and the worst that'll happen is some harvester will collect those addresses and send people more spam, but seriously: The T couldn't take some step to protect this information? Yeesh. And why have a password at all if its going to be so damn easy to figure out? It's like using your own name or "money" for your ATM card.

But it was interesting to see what people would like to see on the T Web site. The best suggestions: T maps overlaid with street maps, the ability to recharge CharlieCards online, and overall suggestions to simplify the design.

The best snarky sugesstion (via Jason): "Here is, so far, my favorite response to the question of what should be on its new website: 'Why we have such poor service'"

Shut-in grandmas stage bloodless coup on Morrissey Blvd

Where's Dan Kennedy when you need him? It appears that the editorial board of the Boston Globe has been deposed and a new junta of retirees from my neighborhood has taken control of the paper. I came to this conclusion after reading the paper's editorial on all those spoiled kids going to their fancy colleges:

At the moment, this is a generation that lacks the common sense to stay off
deadly train tracks or campus rivers when they're icy. A generation that can't
seem to make decisions without texting home, and whose helicopter parents -- so
named for their hovering ways -- have actually begun negotiating salaries with
job recruiters on their kids' behalf.

The evidence of the grandmotherly coup:

1. They're complaining about crank kids and their too-fussy mommas.
   
2. The story they refer to ran in the paper two weeks ago. All my uncles complain about stuff they read or saw "on the TV" two weeks ago.
   
3. It appears as though they nodded off for a nap around the fifth graf.
   
4. They've taken a point I initially agreed with and nagged about it to the point where I take the other side just to be stubborn. I am six years old again.
   
5. Word has it tomorrow's editorial will be about "those goddamned squirrels getting into the bird feeder again. Those seeds are for THE BIRDS!"

Chicago, good friends, good ballpark, terrible fans

It's been a while, I know. I was lazy, and then I was on vacation. Sorry about that.

I went to Chicago last week for a vacation. I have a bunch of friends out there, although oddly almost none were originally from the city. It's a great city to visit, and I go pretty often.

My friend Molly performed with her sketch comedy troupe at a benefit show. She was great, as were some of the other groups. But others were awful. What was the worst? The headlining act for this battered women's charity event was called "Pimprov." Seriously.

I also saw a buddy's reading. My friend Jonathan runs "The Dollar Store." It's a monthly reading of stories inspired by items bought at—wait for it—a dollar store. Really fun.

I also saw The Grackles (a friend's band) play, and went to the aquarium. And ate like a bastard. Good trip.

Lots of my friends out there are going through some personal shit, and I won't exploit that stuff here. And I don't have a lot of pictures, because I'm stupid and forgot my camera every time I went out. So let me tell you about the Cubs game I went to.

The park, once you're in your seat, is awesome. I was on the first base side, so I had a great view of the Budweiser house and home bleacher sections neighbors put up. The ivy really does give the park a different feel, too.

But some stuff was bad. They have a hand-operated scoreboard, which is cool, but the information on the board was all over the place and hard to read. Plus, a lot of pertinent information, like the pitcher's line and stuff, was no where to be found. Lousy.

And the fans were all kind of stiffs. I was told repeatedly by friends out there that people only go to Cubs games to drink Old Styles and be seen by other people, and it's totally true. They knew more about baseball than the awful fans in San Francisco, but still weren't into the game.