Blog Archives

“I fucking love winning. You know what I’m saying? Its like, better than losing.” –Nuke LaLoosh

Phil Hughes gave up a solo home run to Dustin Pedrioa in the first inning. He gave up solo shots in the third and fourth, still by the end of the fourth the Yanks were ahead 6-3. Just another turgid night for the Yanks and Sox, right?

Not really. The game ended before 10 o’clock because Hughes calmed down and pitched well over seven innings. Raul Ibanez and Russell Martin homered for the Yanks (both two-run shots) and Curtis Granderson put the game out of reach in the eighth when he hit a two-out grand slam. It was Grandy’s third hit of the night. Ichiro had a base hit and scored twice as the Yanks sailed to a Score Truck Style Beat Down.

Final Score: Yanks 10, Sox 3.

Oh, hell yes.

Yanks and Sox, Hughes on the hill for Ichiro’s Bronx debut.

1. Jeter SS
2. Granderson CF
3. Cano 2B
4. Teixeira 1B
5. Ibanez LF
6. Jones DH
7. Chavez 3B
8. Suzuki RF
9. Martin C

Never mind the comfortable lead, sic ’em champ and: Let’s Go Yank-ees!

[Photo Credit: Tony Shi]

Jason Schwartz has a long piece in Boston Magazine on Curt Schilling’s failed gaming company, 38 Studios.

Sometime in the late 1990s I read up on Jazz music. I went through a pile of books and my favorite overview came from Ted Gioia in his book The History of Jazz.

I thought about Gioia today when I read this review of his new book, The Jazz Standards, in The Los Angeles Times:

“The Jazz Standards” is an attempt to offer a kind of one-stop shop overview of the genre, looking not so much at the musicians as at the songs. An alphabetical survey of 252 classic pieces, it is to some extent an extrapolation of “The Real Book” — “the underground collection of jazz lead sheets that began circulating in the 1970s” that itself grew out of a series of “fake books,” bootleg compilations used by jazz players to work their way through the entire tradition. This history is fascinating, a reminder that jazz is at heart a vernacular medium in which the most essential skill for a musician may be the ability to think on his or her feet.

[Photo Credit: William Claxton]

Tonight we’ve got the Yanks and Sox and boy it’s a big series for Boston. Meanwhile, the rest of the sports world will be focused on the opening ceremonies of the Olympics. Any of you guys care about the summer games? I’ll be checking them out for sure though I’m not passionate about any one event.

[Picture Credit: “Three Handstanding Gymnasts” By Mark Beard (1956) via Brazen Swing]

Man, oh, man.

Via Laughing Squid.

Heirloom tomato and celery salad over at Hungry Ghost. Heck yeah.

“Water of Face” by Daisy

I run up on her. She was about seven feet tall. Built like an Amazon. Had Mens climbing the Walls.

I said ‘Hello, Baby.”

She said, “Hello, little fella.”

I said, “I likes that.”

[Photo Credit: oio]

Mick Jagger is sixty-nine.

Here’s a cool bit from Keif over at Letters of Note (complete with a Goon Show reference in the opening paragraph).

Sometimes I’d just rather be at the MET. Hanging out here.

Or maybe looking at this:

[Photo Credit: Retro New York]

From the wonderful Scouting NY site, here’s Annie Hall (part one).

It lacks a cohesive structure…

Picture by Erwin Blumenfeld, 1943 [Via Hollyhocksandtulips]

Bet I wet cha like hurricanes and typhoons/Got buffoons eatin my pussy while I watch cartoons…

Well, you don’t say? This one’s a head-nodder.

Go to Laughing Squid. Watch video. Drool.

This is nice. Nathan Englander on Nora Ephron:

Nora once had me and my wife over for a birthday dinner where she served an almond cake. The best I’ve ever had. I asked for the recipe (not because I’m much of a baker, but because seeing Nora bake made me think baking was the greatest thing around). The point is, Nora gave me the recipe. And she also gave me some advice. You’ve got to sift the flour. (She’d sift three times.) And if the almond cake sinks in the middle, as it sometimes does (hers hadn’t, but she surely knew that mine would—and it did) she told me to cover it with powdered sugar, and then put some fresh strawberries on top. Then it would be perfect. And that to me is a good way to sum up what being a working artist is all about. It’s about being a person who makes real things in a real world. You set out to do something, and to do it right. And if it doesn’t come out exactly as planned—you don’t just live with it, you find a way to make it even better than it would have been before. And who isn’t going to be happier with a strawberry on her plate?

[Photo Credit: t/here]

Nice long profile by Ariel Levy in the New Yorker this week about a teenage boxer named Claressa Shields. Worth a read.

[Photo Credit: Sue Jaye Johnson]

A Goldbricker’s Delight today, afternoon game in Seattle and the Yanks trailed the Mariners 2-1 in the eighth inning. The sound you heard was not the grinding of gears but the grinding of teeth back  in New York. The hapless fuggin’ M’s. Enough already. So anyway, the Bombers loaded the bases and with one man out, Jason Nix planted a 2-2 pitch into the gap in left center field. That cleared the bases, gave the Yanks the lead and that lead would be good enough for a 5-2 victory thanks to an excellent performance from the bullpen.

Exhale y’all. Tomorrow gives a day off. Then: BoSox in the Boggie Down this weekend.

[Photo Credit: Hasisi Park; Procaine]

Yanks look to avoid a disastrous West Coast swing with a win today.

Never mind crying over spilt milk:

Let’s Go Yank-ees!

David and Isabella

[Via New Yorker 1995]