The other day I was racking my brain because I knew there was some situation where you insert the phrase "in bed" at the end of a sentence, for humorous effect, but I couldn't remember when you did this (and I was kind of mixing it up with Michael Scott's catch phrase "that's what she said") and I Googled it and it didn't come up so I thought I was losing my mind and that maybe I fabricated this idea and it was not a thing in the reality of our known universe but during lunch I asked my fellow English teachers and they said this was what you did with the little nugget of wisdom inside a fortune cookie and I was like "yes!" and I have no idea where this tradition originates but that's what I was thinking about-- "you will never hesitate to tackle the most difficult problems . . . in bed."
TV . . . It's What's On TV
Catherine and Ian were resistant to watching a new show-- they wanted to forge ahead with Money Heist (which is good, bit it's five million episodes so I wanted some variety) but I reminded them that in the old days you might watch a different show every day of the week and my wife conceded that point (although Ian didn't know what we were talking about) and so we started TWO shows-- both seems similar: The Society and From . . . both shows are about being trapped in a town, both shows are creepy, and both shows are compelling-- I like From a little better-- we ended up watching two episodes-- the pilot is pretty amazing-- and I think they will both provide a nice diversion from the infinite money heist.
The Raider Bird
A few hiccups today-- no Ian at first singles (got in some trouble at school) and Jakob was very late (Patrick retrieved him) but we still managed a 5-0 win over my alma mater, North Brunswick.
Your Musical Taste . . . Part One!
New episode of We Defy Augury up and streaming . . . "The Mysteries of Your Musical Taste: Part 1" . . . the premise of this one is thoughts (loosely) based on This is What It Sounds Like: What the Music You Love Says About You by Susan Rogers and Ogi Ogas and Hit Makers: The Science of Popularity in an Age of Distraction by Derek Thompson, but I included so many examples and clips-- Glenn Gould, Little Richard, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Billy Joel, Vulfpeck, Rage Against the Machine, The Shaggs, Steely Dan, Lightnin' Hopkins, Ornette Coleman, Herbie Hancock, The Crystal Method, The Flaming Lips, Pavement, Johnny Cash, Sonic Youth, Adele, Tom Petty, Jason Aldean, Bob Dylan, The Chemical Brothers, The Wu Tang Clan, Hamilton, and N.W.A.-- that I had to stretch it into two episodes.
Talk to the Bus Driver: He Might Be Famous
On the way to tennis matches, I always make a point to chat with the van driver-- because I'm sitting shotgun and it would be rude just to stare at my phone-- and the conversation is usually the standard drivel-- which is annoying but tolerable-- but today was different: our driver was a large fairly corpulent black dude who looked to be my age, and on the way to the match we got to chatting about punk rock venues in the New Brunswick, indie bands from back in the day, the industrial band Ministry, and other related nostalgia-- then our team played the hottest tennis match ever (in April-- record-setting heat) and we beat Sayreville 4-1 . . . Ian lost to another dinker but the rest of the team came through-- and then on the way home the bus driver and I chatted about the ruins of Amboy Cinema and the great movies of 1999 and we got on the topic of superhero movies and comic books and he mentioned Luke Cage and then he mentioned that the guy who played Luke Cage-- Mike Colter-- actually played him in a movie and I was like "what?" and he said, "I'm famous" and it turns out that he was not fucking with me, our van driver was indeed famous; his name is Daryle Lamont Jenkins and he's a political activist who is credited with pioneering the technique of "doxing" bad actors-- he goes after neo-Nazis and he is a proud leader of the Antifa and Mike Colter (Luke Cage) played him in a film called Skin . . . so the moral here is: normally when you talk to the bus driver, it's going to be about traffic and property taxes and car maintenance, but once in a while, you'll run into something completely different . . . so go ahead and roll the dice (the other thing I learned on this ride is that one of our tennis players is on the Highland Park Board of Health . . . he informed us that a particular restaurant did not have permits).
So Much For Spring
Hottest April tennis practice in history . . . but we played a fun game to make the points go quickly: tiebreaker to 7, you get one serve-- so you are hitting a second serve-- but returner has three shots to win the point-- if the server can get it back in play three times, the server wins the point-- very fun and taught kids to engineer and win points quickly, with a hard deep return or a drop shot, or get to the net and finish . . . hopefully this will pay off tomorrow when we play in the 90 degree heat.
Free to Die Whenever We Damned Please
The new Plain English podcast dives into a depressing question: "Why do Americans die so much younger than people in any other rich country?" and the answer is multi-faceted, but it can be boiled down to:
1) a proliferation of guns;
2) a proliferation of dangerous drugs- mainly opioids and fentanyl-- that lead to an incredible number of overdoses;
3) a proliferation of big cars, which we drive faster and more than people in other rich nations;
4) a proliferation of health and medical issues: our diet, unequal distribution of healthcare, the fact that we drive more and walk less, which leads to poor health outcomes (aside from things we focus on, like prostate cancer)
5) the American attitude and character-- which can make us more creative and interesting and rich, but can also make us defend the proliferation of assault rifles, the right to drink giant Big Gulps, the right to not get vaccinated, the right to drive giant heavy deadly gas-guzzling cars, the right to live wherever we want and commute as long and far as we want, the right to do drugs, the right to NOT be filmed by traffic safety cameras, and the right to not provide a safety net for many of the workers in our nation . . . which provides cheap labor which is great for capitalism and may help us be the leading innovators in the world but may also help us be the best at dying as well.
Ugly First Match
Today we drove to Old Bridge- a giant group 4 school-- with a limited line-up . . . Michael was away for Passover and Akhul was sick-- and we definitely had some first match jitters; Ian played awful-- just couldn't loosen up and hit the ball-- and Ethan lost the first set 7-6 in a 21-19 tiebreaker-- some sort of record?-- they were dinking it back and forth forever-- but then he started hitting the ball and won the second set and a third set tiebreaker-- ultimately we lost 3-2 in a very very long match but if we played loosely and strategically we would have won . . . instead we played like high school boys in their first match of the season and lost.
Whatever You Believe, Please Try To Climb the Political Ladder
Easter Sunday Tennis Resurrection
This afternoon, my brother, Alex, Ian and I played some doubles at Mercer County Park before Easter dinner-- Alex hadn't played since the summer (when he played once or twice) and my brother has been playing primarily pickleball so that evened up the teams-- it was my brother and I versus the children the old men won the bulk of the games-- the only times the children won was when Ian was serving-- he's got a big first serve now-- but most importantly, much fun was had by all, especially Alex because I kept forgetting he was left-handed and hit him some very poachable balls at the net, which he slammed with glee at my brother-- my brother is not used to the size my children have grown to . . . they are both much taller than the two of us and when Alex hits an overhead off of one of my lame cross-court shots, it's coming down at a crazy angle.
Wind . . . What is it Good For?
The wind is the most annoying element in sports (except when it becomes a tornado-- then it's one of the most deadly elements) and while I love pickleball, the ball is highly susceptible to the wind-- and yesterday was the first time I ever played pickleball in a low wind speed situation and it was awesome . . . you can lob and you can really hit the ball hard (I haven't played indoors yet . . . or not since 1988 in gym class at NBTHS).
History . . . What is It Good For?
New episode of We Defy Augury up . . . I read a couple of history books and learned a few things-- but probably not as much as I should have learned: "Revolutions, Reconstructions, and a Mountain Lion."
John Mulaney Stole My Bit!
I was texting with my friend Whitney today and I recommended he listen to the album "10000 gecs"-- but I also recommended the context in which he should listen to the album . . . this is an album to enjoy with a beverage or a substance or perhaps driving alone in the car, blasting it with the windows open (but do not combine all three) and I told him when he played Track 2 (757) he should recall this moment from 2004:
it's the Outer Banks Fishing Trip and there are twenty dudes crammed into the Martha Wood cottage-- a beach shack at Milepost 12-- and it's dark and we're drunk and playing some poker and also playing some tunes-- on a CD player-- and I've got Ween's new album Quebec and I'm playing "The Fucked Jam" over and over and over, for two reasons--
number one, I love "The Fucked Jam". . . the incomprehensible high-pitched lyrics, the weird synths, the random dips and pauses that make you think this groovy abomination is over . . .
but the second reason I'm playing this track over and over is that it's driving this huge guy Tinsley, once a linemen for the W&M football team, absolutely crazy-- and he's new to our fishing trip-- he wasn't in our fraternity-- and so perhaps he's not used to my brand of humor-- but the song is really driving him nuts and I keep promising him that it's over, but then it starts again-- check out 23 seconds in, it does that dip quite often-- and then I sincerely promise him I'm going to play another track from the album-- and then I don't and I feign surprise and tell him I thought it was over . . . and this goes on and on until he finally runs around the table, pops the CD player open, grabs the disk, sprints out to the porch, shaking the house with his massive footsteps, and throws the disc into the dunes-- which was completely deserved and we laughed and laughed-- and then a few years later-- and I'm just putting this together now-- John Mulaney does his "Salt and Pepper Diner" bit, about playing the Tom Jones song "What's New Pussycat" over and over at a diner, until the people in the diner lose their mind-- and he talks about how the song has a "dip in it," just like "The Fucked Jam" and I'm just realizing that Mulaney stole my bit (although my punchline was much better-- a giant football player barreling across the porch and chucking a little discus into the darkness) and I will simply await a simple thank you for the idea that propelled him to great fame and fortune.
Tennis Canceled (Self Reflective Stretch Day)
No tennis match today-- the weather is truly ugly-- and we could probably use a bit more practice so this might be a good thing, so this afternoon (after listing to this podcast) I have been trying to some flexibility exercises and it turns out that I should stop bench pressing and start sitting on the floor, getting up off the floor, doing Asian deep squats, and hanging from bars (not hanging in bars) or I'm going to be a burden to my flexible and fit wife (who can pop up from criss-cross applesauce without using her hands) when I get older . . . although I can get up off the ground without using my hands-- but I have to twist to my knees, so I've got that going for me . . . or I could keep bench-pressing and if I need any assistance when I get old, i could just punch a young person and then tell them they need to help me or I'll punch them again (but I'll have to coax them into getting down to ground level, since I won't be able to lift myself up).
This Doesn't Bode Well . . .
Horror with Panache (or Should I Say Flair?)
Last Night in Soho, which on first glance might seem like some other kind of film-- perhaps a feminine/Anglophile version of Woody Allen's Midnight in Paris-- but the film is NOT directed by Woody Allen, it's directed by Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz, Baby Driver, etc) and this is most definitely stylish and dream horror movie-- and it's a horror movie that makes decent sense (unlike Barbarian) but it mainly becomes a ghoulish contest of which blonde has more style, glamour and verve: Sandie (Anya Taylor-Joy) or Eloise (Thomasin McKenzie) and the film is a reminder not to romanticize the past because it might not live up to your expectation (or die up to your expectations).
Remember When Harry Potter Fought Jesus?
I've just started listening to The Witch Trials of J.K. Rowling and it seems Rowling is a useful and fascinating lens with which to observe the polarization of our culture-- I also forgot (until I listened to episode 2) how crazed the conservative Christians were about banning the Harry Potter books in the late 90s because they seduced children away from the magic of Jesus and towards the magic and necromancy and divination and sorcery and spells and fantasy of Hogwarts and the Potter pantheon-- and the books were just a victim of scale, of course, because there were plenty of fantasy books with far darker magic (I vaguely remember reading The Elfstones of Shannara in middle school . . . I think there's a nuclear war metaphor in that one) but the Harry Potter books were singular in their mass market domination-- anyway, it's an interesting podcast that's got a far broader scope than just talking about some J.K. Rowling tweets.
Horror and Lunch Buffet
Last night, Catherine and I watched the horror movie Barbarian and while I will admit that every decision every single regular person made in the movie was stupid and irrational and utterly insane, I was still gripping my wife's leg in terror throughout the film-- I don't really understand the title (although the film did take place on Barbary Street . . . a rundown abandoned Detroit suburb inhabited by squatters and derelicts-- aside form one cute AirBnB?) but there were so many bad choices . . . but that's how horror movies happen I suppose-- and maybe in this film most of the bad choices were made by men, but Tess-- the leading lady-- doesn't fare much better-- nor does the female arch-villain-- but it's still a fun and crazy journey; almost as scary was our ride to Muhlenberg University this morning-- torrential rain-- but the campus was lovely, the weather cleared up, and the free lunch at the dining hall was phenomenal-- since when does college have good food?
Spring Break! Spring Break?
Long last day of school-- I covered a class so I worked every minute, plus the kids are wild animals the day before break . . . this poor girl in Public Speaking class had to do a speech today-- she was absent last class-- and the assignment was to perform either a toast or a eulogy . . . and kids often eulogize goofy stuff like bad haircuts and their motivation but she was doing a semi-serious one about her dog, a teacup Yorkie-- who died a few years ago-- and her friends got the giggles because she was describing such a tiny dog and then when it got sad, they kept giggling and it got contagious because teenagers are idiots and I pretty much regretted all my life choices that had led me to being in that room full of those teenagers on the day of Spring Break-- but we got through it and the rest of the stupid classes and then there was still tennis practice but now I'm finally home, drinking a beer, listening to Beach House, and winding down from a long fucking stretch of school.
Dave Learns Too Much Today
I took over a new class today (because Cunningham got knocked up) and my co-teacher was out, so I had to learn a lot on my own (sort of, I called Cunningham twice on the phone, to her chagrin and the students' amusement, I enlisted the aid of our two tech support guys, and I asked the students numerous questions) and this new class is called Publisher's Workshop and the purpose of the class is to create all the articles and spreads for the school yearbook and to fill the school web page with articles-- so it's serious shit-- and I learned how to log onto Cuningham's iMac (it's slow and I hate the mouse) and I learned how to log onto the Bearhub web site -- which seems like a Wordpress blog-- and I got a Canva account (different from Canvas) so I can do the layouts-- and-- most importantly-- I learned the last name of my co-teacher-- because I only knew her first name, so now when she comes back I can refer to her properly in front of the kids . . . I took the kids (there are only eight of them) on a field trip today to the secret location where they store the tissue boxes-- I go directly to this secret location instead of putting in an order with the supplies lady-- so I taught them something (but probably not commensurate with what they taught me) and then we had picture day for the tennis team and I had to deal with MORE platforms-- the UTR site-- some kids have two accounts-- and Remind and Google classroom . . . so to summarize, I'm on a lot of platforms: Canvas, Gmail, Remind, Microsoft Email, Canva, Bearhub, UTR, and probably some shit I'm not even aware of . . . what have we wrought?