First off, let me express my relief upon receiving an email about an hour ago. Ginger, who lives in the New Orleans area, is out of the area and safe. You have no idea how relieved and grateful I am that she is safe and sound!

Fortunately, nowhere near the damage and death feared yet (though, the worst is still yet to come).

Some damage to the roof of the Superdome, which concerns me - because there are 10,000-20,000 people using it as a temporary shelter. According to one estimate, approxomately 1/12 of the roof has been torn off - and with a roof that size, that's a good chunk.

I've had chills ever since finding out they were using the Superdome as a giant shelter. It's never faced a hurricaine like this before, and all I could think is "Yeah, and if the damned thing collapses, there'll be several times more fatalities than on 9/11!"

And as far as Sherrie's uneventful birthday? Well, guess who'll be dropping in tomorrow? You guessed it - Tropical Storm Katrina. And while they're expected to receive heavy rains (and possible flooding) and "only" 40-50 MPH winds in Nashville, well... How about taking a vacation now, Sherrie? California's nice - well, if you like the heat...

Labels: Katrina, Mi Vida Loca, That's What Friends Are For

Happy 35th birthday to everyone's favorite Aussie country singer, Sherrie Austin. And she still doesn't look a day over 25...

May her birthday be special and safe.

Labels: Stone Cold Sherrie Austin

In light of everything going on in my real life lately (and there could be more coming, sadly), I've been trying to keep things upbeat around here. However, I need to touch on something that has deeply upset me this week...

Unfortunately, I only got to spend 13 years with my mother before she was taken from this world, but much of what I've learned in life, and much of who I am, is because of her influence. And, one of the most important things I've learned from her is compassion and respect for others.

Not only do I care about what happens to people who matter to me, but I have enough compassion to NOT wish for pain and suffering upon people I dislike. That was something my mother taught me - wishing for suffering upon my "enemies" makes me no better than them, and in many cases worse.

Anyone who has ever read this blog knows my feelings on George W. Bush. While I would love to see him impeached and locked up in prison, I don't want to see him injured or killed. There is a difference between disliking someone, and wishing ill will upon them. I won't cross that line, no matter how "easy" or "tempting" it may seem.

I can't say everyone feels this way, obviously.

For many months now, I've been lurking at IMDB.com's Esther forum. For the most part, it's been about what you'd expect out of such a forum - the fans worshipping Esther Madge, the haters blasting her, and a few trolls flooding the place with Esther vs. Mariah Carey comparisons, as if that's really relevant...

I delurked on Tuesday. And, no, it is not a coincidence that it was the same day that Esther's birthday was marred by her accident.

After seeing one too many posts making fun of the accident, I had enough and spoke up. It's not just because I AM a big fan, but because the shit being said was completely classless and out of line. Examples of the vile hatred I saw including people implying she was having sex with the horse when she fell off, people implying she was hurt because "God" is angry at her for her devotion to Kabbalah, wisecracks like "She was just horsing around", and one person who even posted (and this is a quote) "I hope you die bitch!".

Holy fucking shit...

This wasn't the only place where this was taking place. There are dozens of replies on another website (which I refuse to name, and refuse to EVER go to again) with comments like "If I were a horse, I'd throw her ass too" and suggesting her new album cover should be a picture of her with her face covered with horse semen. A message board on AOL included posts about how what she got was "karma" for "being such a fucking whore", and even that cockroach Matt Drudge got in on the act - his headline on the 16th was "REINVENTED QUEEN OF ENGLISH COUNTRY THROWN FROM HORSE".

You know, it might've been remotely funny had she been thrown, and came away uninjured. But broken bones aren't funny. I also found out the other day that the ground she hit was so hard that she was also knocked unconscious by the impact. While everyone there ran toward her terrified that she was either criticially injured (as in Christopher Reeve) or even dead, some people seem to be amused.

I don't give a damn what anyone thinks of her music, her acting, her antics, her image, her ego, her sex life, or whatever. She is a human being. She's also a human being with two children and a husband. Not only does she not deserve pain and suffering, but what about the people in her life? Why do THEY deserve to see her injured or killed?

The following are two of the posts I put on IMDB's forums - the first on Tuesday, the second on Wednesday.

Heck of a topic to make my first post on, but here goes...

You know, one thing that never ceases to amaze me is how many people want to go on and on about what a "bitch" Madonna is, and yet show a remarkable amount of cruelty toward her. It's, you know, like those who preach family values one second while spewing hate the next. In other words, hypocritical.

I don't care if you worship the ground she walks on or hate her guts, having an accident and getting badly hurt is NOT funny.

I absolutely despise George W. Bush with the white-hot intensity of a thousand suns. And while I laughed at his little bicycle spill last year, I only laughed after I found out he was not injured. Had he broken his collarbone and hand, and cracked three ribs, it would NOT have been funny.

Truthfully, as someone who has had plenty of ruined birthdays in my life, I was very saddened to hear the news. It's sad enough that she got hurt like this, but it happening on her birthday adds a ton of insult to injury.

You're pretty funny wanting to question the maturity of her fans who are upset by her accident. Because I question the maturity, intelligence, decency and sanity of anyone who finds pain and suffering to be a laughing matter.

Before becoming a huge Madonna fan again last year, I honestly didn't care much for her for many years (and even had my own "I hate Madonna!" stage in the early 90's). Even had this accident taken place during that time, I wouldn't have been laughing it up.

Your post is an example of what the hell is wrong with the world today. No compassion. Just a bunch of stupid, ignorant, "hardcore" hate on parade, as if people think they'll win a trophy for being the most cruel person around. There are many people in this world I absolutely cannot stand, but I still have compassion for them to the point that I don't want to see them suffer.

And the second post:

I'm deeply ashamed to be part of the human race, and the crap that has been spewed here by a bunch of immature and insane hatemongers in the last 24 hours is just another example of why I am so ashamed.

I mean, I can't believe this. WTF? What's go great about going around hating people? What's so empowering about wishing someone to die just because you don't like their music or acting or their personality? Do you think it makes you big and bad because you laugh at and spit at a person when they're down?

Suffering is funny? You know, I don't think the Madonna haters in here who've been partying it up would find it so funny if they got thrown from a horse, and Madonna showed up to laugh at them. However, they seem to have no problem with laughing at her - or even wishing death upon her.

First of all, let's put this into perspective. We're talking about a singer/actress. She's not Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, Richard Ramirez, O.J. Simpson, Hitler, or Pol Pot. In other words, it's not like she's KILLED someone... If her art pisses you off, IGNORE IT! Don't listen to her music, don't watch her on TV, don't read her books, don't give her your money. IT'S THAT SIMPLE!

I cannot stand Britney Spears, Jessica Simpson or Eminem (to name a few). I don't troll their forums. I don't wish death upon them. I just go out of my way to ignore them, and don't give them my money.

Second, okay, so she may be a bitch and all, but let's put that into perspective, too. She didn't get 1,800-plus Americans killed with an illegal war. She isn't creating laws that take jobs away and ruin people's lives. And even if she is as much of a bitch as some people want to make her out to be, that doesn't mean she deserves pain and suffering. NOBODY DOES.

I hate George W. Bush (can't we tell?), but I don't sit here everyday thinking "DIE, DUBYA! SOMEONE KILL HIM! DIE!". I don't want to see him suffer, either. Sure, I'd like to see him impeached and thrown into prison, but I don't want to see him seriously hurt or murdered.

She's a freaking entertainer, not the antichrist, and not a terrorist. Get a grip!

One of the things VERY wrong with the world today is the lack of compassion in this world. I dislike alot of people, but as I said, I have compassion to the point where I don't want to see them suffer. What the hell is wrong with people? Someone's suffering or misfortune is funny? You want someone dead because their music pisses you off? I mean, who are REALLY the sick ones here: Madonna, for all her raunchy acts and her attitude? Or, the people waiting to dance on her grave because they dislike her? There is a major difference between being a bitch, and being vindictive and hateful, and the haters in here cross that line by 1,000 miles.

And for those who have implied that Madonna's accident was karma? How about YOUR karma for laughing at someone else's pain?

Seriously, people. Grow up, get a grip, get a clue, and get a life. If Madonna makes you that sick, just ignore her. Quit trying to be a fascist by getting rid of her and ruining things for those of us who like her. And, while you're at it, quit being such mean-spirted, vicious hatemongers who think someone should be killed because you hate their music.

I'll get off the soapbox now...

I can go on and on listing people I despise for various reasons. The only person I feel anywhere near that kind of hatred for is the man who murdered my mother. I don't wish pain and suffering upon cheaters like Barry Bonds, assholes like Eminem, thugs like Bush, arrogant frauds like Michael jordon, or bad singers like Jessica Simpson. I hope they get what they deserve (being exposed as frauds, being sentenced to prison, having their 15 minutes of fame end, etc.), but they don't deserve injury or death for their actions.

This kind of hatred is a glaring example of why I have become more reclusive and antisocial over the years. Sure, I am cynical and sarcastic and outspoken, but there is a huge difference. I don't need this kind of hatred and cruelty in my life. It literally makes me ill to witness, regardless of whether the target is Madonna Louise Ritchie, or George Walker Bush.

It's behavior and statements like the ones I've witnessed this week that make me lose even more hope for the human race. If people feel that kind of hostility and hatred for an entertainer than they don't know personally, how in the hell can they resolve differences and create a peaceful environment in the REAL world around them?

Some of the reactions I've seen since Esther's accident are some of the poorest examples of humanity I've ever seen. I AM ashamed to be a part of this race at times like this. I was taught better, and it makes me real fucking sick to witness this kind of shit.

Labels: Gone But Not Forgotten, Madge Worship, Mi Vida Loca

Sadly, August seems to be the month for bad birthday presents. Within 48 hours of turning 59, my father is diagnosed with posterior vitreous detachment. And today, someone who should've been celebrating her special day instead ended up breaking several bones in a horse riding accident.

NEW YORK (AP) -- Madonna's 47th birthday celebration was marred when she suffered several broken bones in a horse riding accident at her country home outside London, her publicist told The Associated Press on Tuesday.

The superstar was hospitalized with three cracked ribs, a broken collarbone and a broken hand, according to Liz Rosenberg, her spokeswoman based in New York.

The accident occurred Tuesday at Ashcombe house, her estate outside of London.

Madonna and an assistant were riding horses, when Madonna, on a new horse she wasn't accustomed to riding, took a tumble. Her children, Rocco and Lourdes, were at the home but were not with their mother at the time, Rosenberg said.

"The whole family was out in the country, celebrating her birthday," Rosenberg said.

Her husband, director Guy Ritchie, took Madonna to an undisclosed hospital, where she was treated. Rosenberg said the entertainer was expected to be released later in the evening.


I know I poke a lot of fun at Esther Madonna, but it is meant in fun. I really do adore the woman - imitation is, after all, the sincerest form of flattery. I come up with the back-handed birthday greetings in good fun. I tease her about Esther and being abducted for laughs, but I am a big fan - even of her today.

I'd be very saddened if this accident had happened on any day. But on her birthday? How heartbreaking. What a lousy way to "celebrate" a special day with the family.

This just seems to be one of those months. I'm a little worried, because Sherrie Austin's birthday is the 28th. I hope nobody else has a birthday coming up soon (or that this tide turns before then).

Maddy, I do hope you have a full and speedy recovery. Get well soon, and I do wish this could've been a happier birthday for you.

Labels: Madge Worship, Mi Vida Loca, Reinvention

Forty seven years ago today, someone we all know and love was born.. No, not me.. Well, in a way, yeah - it is me.

You know who I'm talking about... She doesn't look a day over 35, and doesn't act a day under 75... She's been abducted by aliens, or had a ceti eel put in her ear by Khan Noonian Singh, or she was possessed by Ozzy while he performed "Shot In The Dark" - either way, she hasn't quite been herself for year now (which is why I have to be herself!).

C'mon, everyone, sing along!

Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday to you
Happy Birthday formerly-Madonna-now-just-Esther-Ritchie
Happy Birthday to you!

Live it up today, Esther Madge. Smoke one for me.

Wait, you don't do that anymore...

Umm, strip in public for me!

No, wait, you don't do that anymore either...

Go out and paint the town in your pointy-coned bustier!

Damn, you don't have that anymore... Must be tough getting old! :P

Labels: Madge Worship, Reinvention, Smoking In The Girls' Room

For those of you out there who weren't overjoyed with coming here to read about the NFL playoffs, Mike Meathead Martz, or the Malice At The Palace, you'll no longer need to worry about having your regularly scheduled Material Girl interupted by sports.

And for those who prefer sports, you won't need to weed through my materialness...

This morning I launched a new blog, appropriately titled "This Used To Be My Playground", at http://maddysplayground.blogspot.com. It's a work in progress - still need to set up a new template (may just use this same one, with different pictures), add links, and copy posts over. And, since I'm about to head out of town for a week, it'll have to wait a few days...

Set your bookmarks, and wait with baited breath - because Terrell Owens has a target on his ass, and my 7" metal heeled boot are ready!

Labels: Boot Worship, Meathead Martz, Sports, Terrible Owens

Gregg Easterbrook is an Internet football columnist known to football fans as the TMQ - Tuesday Morning Quarterback. And, for several years now, he has had a rather interesting theory on why Kurt Warner came out of nowhere and for a few years played quartback better than maybe anyone in history.

His theory? That Kurt Warner, the Arena Football quarterback and former grocery stock boy was replaced by an alien just before 1999, who assumed the identity of "Kurt Warner", and set the league on fire. And, of course, now that the last few years haven't gone so well with Kurt, Easterbrook assumes that the aliens came back, took "Kurt Warner" away and replaced him with the "real" Kurt Warner.

It makes me wonder. Could that be what happened to our dear friend Madonna Louise Ciccone?

Sure, the woman is becoming more and more eccentric all the time - whether it be changing her name to Esther, or recruiting more people int Kabbalah than they recruit into the US military... But there are signs dating further back than 2004 that really make me wonder.

There is one in particular that really has left me scratching my head...

During the late 90's, Esther Madge made an appearance on her pal Rosie O'Donnell's show. Unlike a certain talk show appearance a few years earlier, it wasn't what Madge said that shocked me, but what she found so funny.

What was amusing, apparently, was a clip Rosie aired. And what wasn't shocking was that Madge laughed at herself, but what she laughed at in particular... No, it wasn't Madge having a wardrobe malfunction. Nor, was it her swearing, or even tripping and falling on her ass.

What amused Madge so much was September 14, 1984.

I am convinced anyone who is famous has one defining moment - either a moment they are remembered for forever, or one that catupults them into immortality. 100 years from now, Janet Jackson won't be a singer or Michael's sister, but the woman who's boob got flashed to the world on live television.

Michael Jackson (until he changed destiny by ensuring he'd go down in history as a sick motherfucker) was destined to be defined by his moonwalk during Motown's 25th anniversary concert.

That washed up diva, Whitney Houston (who forgets the two key words - washed up - and keeps acting like a diva) was likewised destined to be immortalized by her performance of the Star Spangled Banner at Super Bowl XXV, until she decided she'd rather be remembered as a drugged-out diva.

And, there are days (like today) where I see Sherrie Austin seemingly spending more time writing music for other artists (like Tim McGraw and Brittany Wells), or looking to perform in musicals (my thanks to Esther for passing this along), and doing nothing in the way of recording her own music. And it leaves me wondering if the closest thing we'll ever have to a defining moment might be "Never Been Kissed" or "Streets Of Heaven"...

But, this is bigger than those examples. What's the big deal about that day, you ask? Well, that's like wondering what's the big deal about February 9, 1964...

February 9, 1964 was of course, a red-letter day in music history. Because this wasn't just a defining moment like the above examples, but a moment that catupulted four young men into instant immortality. That was the day where four young men from Liverpool who called themselves The Beatles went from a popular British band to the biggest act in the world in just a matter of hours, thanks to their legendary appearance on the Ed Sullivan Show.

That one performance not only made them instant megastars, but undoubtedly dethrowned Elvis Presley as the king of music. At that moment, the face of music was no longer a southern rock heartthrob with sideburns, but four Brits with floppy hair.

Which brings me back to September 14, 1984.

MTV, barely three years old, would air their first Video Music Awards. They had hoped their new awards show would make a splash - and thanks to one artist in particular who delivered, it did.

Because going into that day, Madonna Louise Ciccone was a young up and coming star with some success, but hardly the face of music or even it's fastest rising star (many in 1984 actually predicted Cyndi Lauper would have a brighter future than Madonna, for example). But that would change in one night - in fact, in just a matter of a few minutes.

And over a decade later, there sat Madonna, watching herself rolling around in a wedding dress (complete with her "Boy Toy" belt buckle), singing "Like A Virgin", and laughing like it was a personal blooper.

We're not just talking about a big moment, we are talking about THE Madonna Moment. The moment when Madonna Louise Ciccone went from being a 26 year old with aspirations of "taking over the world" to literally taking over the world. The moment where she rocked the music world the same way those four boys from Liverpool did. She took the world by storm, she took Michael Jackson's crown, and became THE biggest name in entertainment in that one moment. Nearly everything - her two decade reign as THE Queen Of Music (a throne which was threatened many times, but nobody could seem to topple her), from everyone wanting a piece of her ass (people who loved her wanting it in bed, people who hated her wanting in a while different manner), to inspiring an army of wannabes (some famous, others just die-hard fans) and starring in more wet dreams than perhaps anyone in history - can be traced to that one earth-shattering performance.

And there was Esther Madge, now a 40 year old mother, laughing at the moment that defined it all...

I mean, you don't see Kirk Gibson laughing it up as he watches his immortal home run (which STILL gives me goosebumps!) in the 1988 World Series. You didn't see Sir Paul or Ringo or George (rest in peace) laughing it up at their Sullivan performance... Well, then again, they weren't rolling around in wedding dresses while singing "I Want To Hold Your Hand".. Eww, on second thought, let's move on. I don't know about anyone else, but I just got a very bad mental picture of Ringo Starr in a wedding dress...

As much as I love Madonna (boy, that sounds arrogant, doesn't it? :P ), I admit, she is not the most talented artist around. Never has been. She was probably a D+/C- in the talent category back in 1984, and has moved up to maybe a B-/B in recent years. However, I've always felt she was the Greg Maddux of music - maybe the craftiest, cagiest artist I've ever seen. She'd grab your attention with antics, and with self-promotion. She reinvented herself more times than the Yankees won the World Series - and that was such a huge part of what made her so interesting.

You'd watch her and wonder "Who IS the real Madonna? Is she the young woman who wore funky makeup and used typewriter bands as bracelets and cracked on bubblegum constantly? The "virgin" in the wedding dress with the "Boy Toy" belt buckle? Susan? Is she the Marilyn Monroe wannabe? The Who's That Girl floozie? The woman who almost looks like a hippy singing "Like A Prayer"? The bitch in leather with a cigarette in her mouth and a "Come fuck me - if you know what's good for you!" look on her face? The sexual acrobat who spent a few years acting like she wanted the whole world in bed with her? The woman in suits with a gold tooth and a cigar in her mouth? Dita? The vulnerable looking woman on the Bedtime Stories cover? Evita? Mommy Madonna? Esther the British Kabbalist? A combination of the above? None of the above? Do any of us really know? That's a big part of the appeal of her. Is there a person behind the curtain controlling the Wizard? Or, has she shown us the real her everytime, and evolved over the years? Madonna has sold as many records with mystery and charisma as she has with raw talent...

She admits herself her career has been about pushing people's buttons, and the conflicting image she presented on that fateful September evening - the virgin white wedding dress, while oozing sex and rolling on the stage - pushed a lot of buttons. It gave her everything she wanted (at that time): The entire world at her feet. And you have no idea how much it shocks me to view that moment the way she'd view the Three Stooges.

Of course, that's hardly the only moment. There is, after all, her getting on Britney Spears for smoking (Do you know who this person is, Madge? Or how about her? Or her?). There's her expressing regrets for her blatant sexuality. Hell, she doesn't even like her name anymore.

At some point, the mothership clearly came and took Madonna away, and replaced her with a physically flawless clone. The only problem is, they got the personality all wrong... And the name.

So, at this point, I have three questions:

1. When did they do this?
2. WHY did they do this?
3. Why didn't they come and take me while they were here?!

Well, I guess that leaves me to carry the torch (maybe that's why they didn't come pick me up?)... Anyone see my pointy-coned bustier? And, you know what, I think Britney swiped my lighter again.. Damn her!

Labels: Madge Worship, Reinvention

Anyone who knows me knows my rather harsh and unpopular opinions on the mainstream "corporate" press here in the United States, where it seems more and more that we're either being fed lies and omitions to push an "agenda" (war, pro-corporation, anti-Middle East, etc.), or being fed a steady diet of bullshit stories (Bennifer, TomKat, Brad and Jen, Britney Spears does this/that, etc.) to distract us from what REALLY matters - like a war based upon lies, and corporations given carte blance to loot the people and this planet so the fat cats at the top can make even more money.

I've distrusted the American media for the better part of fifteen years now, since being subjected to the blatant lies from the likes of CNN during the first war with Iraq. You know, where we'd get five seconds of footage from a protest, dismissed with a somewhat sarcastic "Yeah, we got people going crazy in the street" - try about 20,000 of them. Then, they'd switch to footage in a mall, and give us several minutes of people waving conveniently provided American flags at the camera. "See? America supports the war!".

That distrust grew in recent years, thanks to the tabloid-style coverage of Chandra Levy's disappearance (Yeah, so a woman is missing? SO WHAT! Drool, everyone - she fucked a Congressman! That's MORE important than her life!), and the completely slanted agenda given to us on 9/11 (where they used OLD footage of a celebration in Palestine, then claimed it was live footage of Palestinians celebriting the attacks. Or, where in the course of three hours they went from "America under attack" to "America's new war", wasting no time to start blaming people even though they didn't know shit at the time!). Multiply that by about 10,000 with the way the majority of the corporate press immediately bought the Bushies' lies about Iraq and Saddam Hussein in ***2.

Honestly, I have paid almost NO attention to the corporate mainstream press in nearly four years, with the exception of catching a major breaking story (like the Columbia disaster a couple years ago). Nor do I intend to anytime soon. I'm allergic to propaganda.

That being said, not everyone who works for a major news agency or is a reporter or anchor with a major network is dishonest and manipulative. However, they are growing fewer and further in between in recent years.

Sadly, yesterday, that list grew even shorter.

Just four months after telling the world he had lung cancer, and barely a week after his 67th birthday, Peter Jennings lost his battle with cancer.

I've always had a great deal of respect for Jennings, even as my overall distrust with the media grew. While I can't say I agree with everything he's ever done or asked during an interview, he is one of the few anchors on television who couldn't get rid of the mentality that he was a REPORTER, and not an entertainer.

He would make the effort to try to get all the facts he could before going on the air, and try to present the whole story, instead of slanting it as so many of the pressitutes today do.

While this mentality existed with any story he covered, we saw it at its best over the last twenty years, when reporting on events in the Middle East. Peter, of course, spent nearly a decade heading a reporting bureau for ABC there, and not only was capable of offering a perspective the rest of the corporate press couldn't, but refused to.

The finest example of this may be during 9/11, when Jennings came right out on the air, not only stating that the views of the "terrorists" do not reflect the views of most of the people in the Middle East, but even offered the insight that our actions there throughout the years have provoked some people there into hating us. He may be to this day the only reporter or anchor with a major network to come right out and state that the "hatred" of America isn't because of our "freedom" and "wealth" and "way of life", but because of our ACTIONS in their land.

And then, of course, there is the praise for Peter's coverage on 9/11, and as far as I'm concerned, he earned every bit of it. Where every other network seemed more interested in scaring and traumitizing people even MORE, or beating the war drums, Peter's presense was calming, comforting, and he focused more on trying to paint a picture of what had happened and what may happen, instead of sensationalizing and pitching an agenda.

In a sense, Peter Jennings was the closest thing we've had since maybe Walter Kronkite of a genuine reporter on network news, a person more interested in truth and accuracy than ratings. A person who struck a chord with viewers - not only because of his honesty, but his style and demeanor. In an day and age where anchors and reporters try to use the stories to make themselves stars and promote their "personalities", Peter seemed more interested in letting the stories be the news, and simply being more of a narrator.

Jennings also deserves credit for being one of the first major news "personalities" (maybe the first) to reach out to the Internet in the mid 1990's. Where many reporters seemed to view Internet users as cracks or predators and went out of their way to portray the Internet as rampant pornography and a danger to children, Jennings saw it as a new media outlet, and treated it as such.

The man had a remarkable forty year career. Why? Because he was unremarkable. He didn't feel the need to make himself part of the story. He wasn't in-your-face like so many of the "new media's" reporters and pundits. He did his job, and did it the best he could.

A great journalist has been silenced, and will be deeply missed. Rest in peace, Peter, and thank you for giving us one voice we could trust all these years.

Labels: Bushwhacking, Gone But Not Forgotten, Presstitutes, The Stormin' Mormon

Last year, my friend Daria at diner-bitch.com participated in Project Blog, staying up 24 hours and posting 48 times, to raise money for charity.

She will be doing something similiar today for Blogathon, this time with the proceeds going to an organization called (and I love this name! That was such an awesome movie.) Mr. Holland's Opus. The Mr. Hollands's Opus Foundation (MHOF) supports music education and its many benefits through the donation and repair of musical instruments to under-served schools, community music programs and individual students nationwide.

If I wouldn't have had one of those months where I'd lose my head if it wasn't attached to my neck (and not missed the deadline to sign it), I'd have signed up and done so for a cause as well (I'll have to keep my eyes open for something like this in the future).

Cruise on over to Daria's site, check it out, and maybe even sponsor her. It's a great cause, and she is quite entertaining. Enjoy!

Labels: Blogathon 2006

(Another attempt to try to lighten up not only this blog, but my own mood. Though, it seems like whenever I try to post something uplifting, something bad happens. If this trend continues, I'm going to start posting Smiths lyrics or reinvent myself as Robert Smith.)

One thing I do enjoy doing online - besides talking with friends - is researching obscure things. It was how I discovered - among other things - that William Shatner has tried to sing, that Chuck Woolery even has a top 40 hit, and the life and times of Moonlight Graham.

While tinkering around online this week, I discovered two little tidbits concerning music - one that scared the shit out of me, the other that blew my mind.

Let's start with the Nightmare On SBC Global first...

Over the weekend, I discovered a song from a CD titled "Mother Goose Rocks". Imagine what would happen if you took the background music for "Ray Of Light", and had someone who sure sounds like Madonna singing "The Wheels On The Bus" to it.

Not only that, but then you get the animated video, complete with what sure as hell looks like an animated Madonna driving a bus and singing the song...

I sure as hell didn't recall doing something like this, and fortunately, I didn't. It turns out that they just managed to find someone to do a real good impersonation of Madonna, and credited her as "Mad Donna".

What can I say besides many people wish they were Madonna, but there's only one - me? :P

Thank goodness for that. You see, Maddy is becoming more and more scared each time Esther Madge does something using her name, and this could've been the last straw. I mean, I might've had to have sued Esther Ritchie to try to prove I am the true and only Madonna - because this Madonna would not go from being the Material Girl to the Maternity Girl, complete with singing children's songs.

I think it might be time for me to send Esther Madge a carton of Marlboro lights and a new pointy-coned bustier for her birthday, along with a card - "Remember HER?!".

At least in a bit of good news, I managed to find music from an obscure rock/new wave band from the early 80's that didn't quite make it...

Let's step back into the ol' time machine and pay a visit to 1980.

The band started off as The Breakfast Club (which, after years of paying their dues in the New York area, would finally get a recording deal in the mid 1980's, and have one hit - "Right On Track" in 1987). However, after some shuffling with the roster, the band was retooled - moving their one-time drummer to lead vocals, and calling themselves Emmy And The Emmys.

Emmy And The Emmys became a regular in the New York club scene, and even distributed some demo tapes - to record labels as well as members of the audience. The style of the music kind of sounds like Pat Benatar meets Blondie meets the Go-Go's, a pretty good cross of new wave and rock that reflects what was popular at the time.

While the band never officially released an album, there are bootlegs floating around on the Internet, and I managed to stumble across them last night. I'm glad, mostly because the CD's themselves are going for an arm, a leg, AND a testicle or ovary on eBay!

Emmy And The Emmys, obviously, didn't last long. The rest of the band once again became The Breakfast Club, and Emmy, well... "Emmy" moved onto much bigger things.. As the The Breakfast Club continued to take the long road to their brief moment of success, "Emmy" (known to the world by another one-word name) would move on to become perhaps the bigest female artist in history.

Almost makes you wonder what we would've heard over the last 20 years had I continued to stick to rock, instead of going into dance/pop (and eventually electronica). While I enjoy a great deal of her music over the last two decades, I have to admit I really get a kick out of hearing Madonna rock out.

A couple other things:

Last night was my second attempt to bowl since 1991, with the first being two weeks ago. The fun isn't just trying to shake 14 years of rust, but re-teach myself - due to two rotator cuff injuries in the last 16 years, my right shoulder is a complete mess, and I'm now trying to bowl left-handed.

The first game wasn't so bad, but after trying to tinker with different release points and my footwork, it quickly turned into a mess. Like the late, great relief pitcher Dan Quisenberry, I too am trying to find a delivery in my flaw, and develop some consistancy. I'm sure I will at some point. More than anything, I enjoy getting out for a bit and hanging around with Eric and his friends.

Today would've been my mother's 55th birthday, if she was still with us. I still miss her very much, and not a day passes where she isn't in my thoughts. I often wonder what she would be like today: she'd be a grandmother, and would she be as angry at what's going on in this world as I am? I believe she would be, and I not only miss her as my mother, but it'd really help to have someone who'd respond to my anger and frustration and sadness with what's going on with "I understand. I feel the same way."

I just hope she's at peace. She sure deserves it. She lived through enough hell in her 37 years here.

Labels: Emmy Worship, Gone But Not Forgotten, Madge Worship, Reinvention, Shatner On Acid, Smoking In The Girls' Room

I haven't had the world's greatest relationship with my father over the last 30 years, as some of you know. It at times has been a very tense, strained relationship - quite often the result of not seeing eye to eye.

However, the news he gave me Tuesday afternoon has deeply upset and frightened me.

Monday afternoon, he was driving home from work, when he "saw spots" and the vision in his left eye seemed to "black out" and come back in. Instead of heading home, he changed direction and headed to the nearest hospital and went into the ER.

The doctor checked for the usual suspects - cancer in the eye or brain, or signs of a stroke, and he turned up negative for both. With those eliminated, they ran some tests on his left eye, but couldn't come up with anything conclusive (speculating it may perhaps be a detached retina), and advised him to see an opthamologist on Tuesday.

After being ran through the gauntlet (what else is new in the American disease industry) of running around, having one doctor fax the next, etc. etc. etc., he finally was able to go in and see an opthamologist in the afternoon.

The opthamologist discovered fragments floating around in his left eye, and removed them, followed by performing a series of tests. And the results of those tests are deeply disturbing.

It would've at least been somewhat positive news if they had discovered the speculated detached retina, or even cataracts, as both could be repaired with surgery...

Instead, they discovered that his left retina is literally deteriorating, and those fragments were pieces from the retina itself. There is no idea as to why this is happening (the only theory the opthamologist could come up with was a combination of age and heavy strain on his eyes over six decades), and the worst part is there is no cure, or even treatment - nothing that could even prevent or potentially slow down the deterioration.

The closest thing my father got to "positive" news is that sometimes the retina will stop deteriorating, leaving the person still capable of using that eye. However, that is not always the case.

And if it doesn't cease to deteriorate? The prognosis was that if it doesn't stop, he will likely lose his sight in his left eye in 3-6 months.

He will need to go in every month in order to have further examinations, and have any additional fragments removed. There isn't much else to do outside of hoping for the best.

He literally broke down on the phone when he told me, so much so I could barely hear what he was saying. He normally isn't one to cry, but he is scared to death, and I can't blame him. I'm scared for him.

He later on did try to look at the positives - that it wasn't cancer, that he didn't suffer a stroke, and that they also tested his right eye, which is completely fine.

What a fucking birthday present. He turned 59 on Sunday, and he called me from the ER on Monday, upset because only one person bothered to send him a card or call him - ME. And the next day, this happens...

I'd be lying if I said the only thing I felt right now was sadness and fear, though. There is a touch of anger. I walked down to the library tonight to return some books that were due, and the whole thing just kept bouncing around in my head - especially the words "Nothing they can do". And that's where the anger begins.

We can put a man on the moon. We spend lord knows how much every year researching and developing new and more devistating weapons, but I'm sick and tired of medical research being ignored. And my thoughts kept hovering on stem cell research - that big evil that our government wants banned for bogus "religious" reasons.

Had stem cell research been completely legal - WITHOUT limits - and pursued, could there now be a treatment that would definitely save his vision? We'll never know now!

Instead, I'm left putting my hope in fate. I'm left hoping that his doctor tells him "The process has stopped. You'll be fine." I'm left now worrying every damned time he calls that he's going to say his eye went out, literally like "blinds closing over a window" (how it was described to him that it'd seem if his retina completely deteriorated).

He's not perfect, but damnit, he sure doesn't deserve this.

I sure hope something happens to prevent him from losing his eye, whether it be the process stopping, or maybe some sort of radical, experimental treatment. Something. Anything.

Labels: Mi Vida Loca

To millions of baseball fans, Rafael Palmeiro is the quiet guy with a sweet swing who in 20 years managed to become one of four players ever with 500 home runs and 3,000 hits.

However, to millions of non-baseball fans, Rafael Palmeiro is that guy on TV pitching Viagra, Pfizer's "wonder drug" to treat erectile disfunction.

Apparently, it seems dear ol' Raffy has been taking advantage of another wonder drug. Because from this day forward, he will simply be known as Rafael Palmeiro the CHEATER.

Palmeiro today became the most high-profiled player to be nailed by baseball's steroid testing policy, and received a ten game suspension after testing positive for a performance-enhancing substance - just a few weeks after his 3,000th career hit, no less.

This of course isn't Palmeiroids' first brush with baseball's growing black eye (AKA steroids). According to his book Juiced, Jose Canseco claimed to have introduced Palmeiroids to steroids after joining him on the Texas Rangers (more on the accusation, and Canseco's book, shortly).

Shortly after the release of Canseco's book, as you probably recall, Congress decided to grandstand on the issues of steroids in baseball, and scheduled a hear on March 17th. I guess they wanted to celebrate St. BALCO's Day instead of St. Patrick's Day. Anyway, as our beaurocrats grandstanded, our players brought out the comedy routine - Mark McGwire detailed plans to build a time machine to send him to the future, Curt Schilling tried to deny that baseball has a Jose Canseco problem, Sammy Sosa magically forgot how to speak English, and Frank Thomas left because he wanted to eat.

Oh, yes, and Palmeiro was there. Or, shall I say, Bill Clinton possessed Rafael Palmeiro's body, and he pointed at the committee and emphatically told them (and America) that he "never used steroids. Period.". He acted very convincing and confident. Of course, now we know it's all an act...

An act that could get him charged with perjury, no less, as he was under oath. Whoops. Maybe he should've just tried to be entertaining like everyone else (sans Canseco) who testified before Congress.

Canseco, of course, was blasted by the press (and former players) for Juiced, and the attacks seemed to fixate on one of two issues. The first issue were claims that Canseco merely made up stories and dropped names to get himself in the press. Many people thought no way Jose that Palmeiroids was juiced - he wasn't some huge, hulking monsters like McGwire, Canseco or Bonds.

The other issue - and by far the lamest of the two - were the mediots attempts to claim Canseco MUST be lying because he claimed he never had sex with me. Now, let's face it, I may have been the world's biggest slut back then, and quite proud of bragging about and flaunting my sex life. If I fucked someone, I didn't deny it - I flaunted it!

Well, both myself and Esther Madge Ritchie deny ever having sex with Jose Canseco. Now, why would she admit to something as embarassing as a relationship with Vanilla Fucking Ice, but claims to never have slept with Canseco? Could it be because THEY NEVER HAD SEX?

But, we know how the media operates. They've been convinced for 15 years now that Esther Madge and Canseco fucked each others brains out in New York, so that must be the truth. Well, either they're both lying, or both telling the truth, and Esther Madge was always very blunt and honest about her sex life...

Well, what may be the most amusing part of this controversy is watching the media do a 180. "Okay, okay, so Canseco is still a nut, but it appears he was right!" There are few things more amusing than watching the media eat their words, and the pressitutes are feasting tonight!

The other big issue seems to be the matter of the Hall Of Fame. But, this has been a controversy for some time involving Palmeiroids - a few writers wrote columns last month, saying he doesn't deserve to go into the Hall - despite passing BOTH the magic landmarks of 3,000 hits and 500 home runs - because he wasn't "dominating enough" and "played in hitters' ballparks".

My stance on Palmeiro - and nearly everyone from this era with HoF numbers - has been simple: If he's clean, he deserves to go in. If he cheated, then FUCK NO. What's funny is just a few weeks ago, I had discussed Roidael with Eric, and he responded with "The problem is, we may never know."

Well, now we do. Rafael Palmeiro is a cheater who is unworthy of EVER going into the Hall of Fame. If baseball can keep Pete Rose out - who earned his 4,256 hits and didn't bet on baseball until AFTER he retired - then you bet they should keep someone out who cheated as a player.

Some writers are trying to bring up the issue of "Well, how do we know when he started cheating? Did they really make a difference in his career?". I say YES, they did. I have had doubts about Palmeiro for some time - especially after Canseco's book came out. Palmeiroids' "convincing" performance on St. Patty's Day didn't quite convince me. The numbers don't lie.

Palmeiroids was seriously hyped in college and in the minor leagues as a future star - a Wade Boggs type hitter with a little more power, and a bit of speed. The kind of player who they say hitting .350 with 15-20 home runs a year, which is indeed about what he did in the minor leagues before reaching the majors with the Cubs in 1986.

Canseco's claim was that he introduced Palmeiroids to performance-enhancing drugs after Canseco was traded from the A's to the Rangers in the early 90's. Let's use that as a cutoff point, and take a look at Palmeiroids BC (Before Canseco) and AC. I'll use 1988-1992 as BC (1998 being his first FULL season), and 1993-2004 as AC, figuring that even if Canseco immediately introduced Roidael to steroids, they weren't going to make a big difference between August 31 and the end of the season.

Average Palmeiro season before Canseco: .298, 15 HR, 76 RBI's

(High of .322 in 1991, 26 HR's in 1991, 89 RBI's in 1990)

Palmeiro's first full season after the Canseco trade? .295, 37 home runs, 105 RBI's - with the HR's and RBI's both being by far his career highs (at that point).

Average season after Canseco: .285, 38 HR, 112 RBI's

(High of .324 in 1999, 47 HR's twice - second time in ***1, 148 RBI's in 1999)

I'd call that a huge difference, and I don't think there is any coincidence the huge jump in his offensive numbers coincides with the period right after Jose "The Chemist" Canseco brought his traveling steroid show to Texas. And, if so, these trends suggest that WITHOUT steroids, Palmeiro would've been a very good player, but NOT Hall of Fame worthy.

The steroid scandal has become a bigger black eye than gambling ever was, and there appears to be no end in sight. I'm not shocked that Palmeiroids is a cheater - merely that he got caught. He is so far the only "superstar" to get caught with tainted blood, and we may not see any others - I truly suspect for all his tough talk, Commisioner Bud $elig does NOT want his cash cows caught with positive steroid tests.

I've also read columns from two writers, saying Palmeiro should still go in, because "we're not the police". Well, someone needs to take a stand and say no. If the commisioner won't, then the writers who cast the votes for the Hall should. They claim they're concerned about how they could not vote for Palmeiro, since others are (suspected) cheaters. I say if that's the case, then vote for NOBODY from this era. Say NO to Bonds, McGwire, Giambi, Palmeiro and anyone else who inflated like a balloon (both physically and statistically) out of nowhere. No matter what the numbers may look like, they are/were not "great players" - they are genetically engineered players. And, therefore, have no business in the Hall of Fame - using their logic, Ben Johnson should also go into his Hall of Fame, because we "don't know" if anyone else he competed against were "juiced", and he too put up record-shattering numbers.

Rafael Palmeiro has disgraced the game of baseball, and insulted its fans and history. He's no hero. Don't treat him as one, don't reward him as one. Use him to deliver a message to the young players - if you're caught cheating, you too will be EXCLUDED from the Hall of Fame.

In a related note, Palmeiroids' brother in arms BALCO Bonds apparently will miss the rest of the 2005 season, throwing one huge monkey wrench into HIS tainted ride to history (Hank Aaron's home run record). I personally hope it means Bonds is one step closer to become an EX-baseball player, so he can no longer hurt the game.

Labels: BALCO Barry, Cheaters, Sports