Scooter & Hum’s Top Five Books Of The Year 2009

Despite a year filled with wedding planning, marriage, pregnancy and a wee baby, I somehow found time to digest some wonderful books in ’09. I’ve only been doing this ranking for a few years (check out 2007 and 2008), but this was easily the most difficult ranking I’ve had to do. I can only hope that I can work my way through as many tremendous works in 2010.

So without further ado, here are “The Scooties” winners:



#1. “The Road,” by Cormac McCarthy

What I Wrote Then:
“In this world of blogs and tweets, 10-second sound bites and podcasts, iPhone apps and texts, we are losing the ability to truly impact other human beings through the written word. We absorb, we scan, we move on. We don’t think, we don’t digest, we don’t consider. As a writer, it can be quite frustrating, upsetting and frightening, to see the language stolen, to see prose and grammar bastardized, to see tone twisted. So to find a book that reads like a 300-page punch to the diaphragm … to stumble across a work of art that evokes emotion … to not so much read, as experience, a piece that elevates as it depresses … it can restore a little faith to a vessel that’s increasingly found wanting. And if I found anything in McCarthy’s stark, gray, lonely, ashen, tilted world, it was that—a rediscovery of inspiration through literature, blooming like a solitary white rose in a field of rock.
“Being a witness to McCarthy’s immense talents can be a bit overwhelming and make you feel unworthy of calling yourself a writer … but it still made the journey along this road an unforgettable and awe-inspiring experience.”

What I Say Now:
This was a tough list to put together because is it is difficult to rank so many good, classic books in some kind of order. But the easiest choice was this one; that’s how good “The Road” was. In some strange way, McCarthy’s prose sort of gave me back some of the belief I had lost in the written word … and I know of no higher compliment to pay an author. McCarthy’s prose is black-and-white proof that less is more, that sparse can be mind-blowing, that gray can be beautiful.

Read My Review

Passage to Remember:

“I want to be with you.”
“You can’t.”
“Please.”
“You can’t. You have to carry the fire.”
“I don’t know how to.”
“Yes you do.”
“Is it real? The fire?”
“Yes it is.”
“Where is it? I don’t know where it is.”
“Yes you do. It’s inside you. It was always there. I can see it.”



#2. “War and Peace,” by Leo Tolstoy

What I Wrote Then:
“With its voluminous length and the hard work required to complete it, ‘War and Peace’ has basically become synonymous with any supremely long, boring or insanely difficult work. Even the largely unfunny Woody Allen once said, ‘I read “War and Peace” in 20 minutes. It involves Russia.’
“Initially, I was drawn to this read by a desire to familiarize myself with Tolstoy's work and to simply be able to say that I freaking read ‘War and Peace.’ Gradually, though, I began to get sucked into the story—especially the statements on the proceedings of the Moscow elite—and to recognize Tolstoy's profound brilliance and unique style.”

What I Say Now:
I think that embracing the challenge of “War and Peace” is such an undertaking that, when you’re in the midst of it, it’s easy to lose sight of the subtleties and nuances of the story. It may be that only after time and distance does reflection show what a marvelous job Tolstoy did in joining myriad plot lines and creating—and involving you in—a memorable world. This true classic was truly worth both the time and effort.

Read My Review

Passage to Remember:

"She turned round. For a few seconds they gazed silently into one another's eyes—and what had seemed impossible and remote suddenly became possible, inevitable and very near."



#3. “Hell’s Angels,” by Hunter S. Thompson

What I Wrote Then:
“It is this tone that permeates the book; Thompson doesn’t shy away from the controversial or dance around the despicable. He tells it the way he knows best: all details included and no holds barred, letting you decide what you want to believe and how you want to feel about it. At the conclusion, it’s still not apparent whether it is a more or less complex deal than what you would think; the Hell’s Angels aren’t complex or misunderstood. They are just outlaws who live in a world of their own morality and making; as Thompson maintains, they are losers, pure and simple. They aim to take out their unvoiced frustration on a world they don’t understand, then blame it on the world for not understanding their frustration and taking issue with the attack itself. In the end, they’re just wandering thugs; in the end, none of it meant anything anyway. After all, this is who they were and nothing more, nothing heroic or romantic, notable only for the same reason society has always been drawn to those who live on the edges of morality.
“The larger story is the birth of Gonzo journalism through its mainstream publication in ‘Hell’s Angels.’ The idea that Thompson partially becomes the story, and impartiality be damned, is ultimately crystallized in this work that partly reads like one long op-ed piece. The high of creating an entirely new literary genre must be similar to the way Thompson tries to explain the thrill of winding out his bike on the open road …”

What I Say Now:
To say it was a year of Hunter S. Thompson at Scooter & Hum would be an understatement. After tackling the epic “Gonzo,” I wanted to read some early Hunter S. Thompson, before he turned into, well, Hunter S. Thompson. I wanted to find the piece that launched a new literary genre and reflected the raw, emotional genius before it was degraded and diminished by years and years of truly hellacious abuse. In “Hell’s Angels,” we see the master before he became, essentially, a prisoner of himself; here we see Hunter S. Thompson blurring the lines of journalism, satire, fiction and comedy.

Read My Review

Passage to Remember:

“It has to be done right … and that’s when the strange music starts, when you stretch your luck so far that fear becomes exhilaration and vibrates along your arms … The Edge … There is no honest way to explain it because the only people who really know where it is are the ones who have gone over.
“The others -- the living -- are those who pushed their control as far as they felt they could handle it, and then pulled back, or slowed down, or did whatever they had to when it came time to choose between Now and Later.”



#4. “Walden,” by Henry David Thoreau

What I Wrote Then:
“This is one of those books that had been on my list to read for years, and, as commonly happens with the classics, some new book usually comes along to topple an older one down the priority order. Yet, I couldn’t escape the importance of reading “Walden”; after all, in Henry David Thoreau’s words, “For what are the classics but the noblest recorded thoughts of man?” So I finally stopped putting it off and jumped into what turned out be somewhat of a tough read—but well worth it … So what did Thoreau truly learn in his escape into the woods and the lake? It depends on how you choose to read “Walden” and the life experiences you elect to call upon in deciding which aspects of the piece to highlight. After all, it’s part autobiography, part environmental essay, part rejection of society, part motivational book, part Luddite thesis, part celebration of life, part zoology textbook … and many other things as well.”

What I Say Now:
“Walden” probably deserves to be higher due to the sheer number of epic quotations it has delivered, but I thought it got a bit disjointed at times and wasn’t cohesive enough to keep me involved. It became more of a chore to read than “Hell’s Angels,” and that was the deciding factor in my mind. However, in terms of arguably being the defining book of the environmentalist movement and a wide-ranging thinktank on so many disparate subjects, it truly is an amazing piece of work, an awe-inspiring window into one man’s never-stopping mind. The reality is that you could throw any of these four books into a bag and pull them out in any order and it would be just as acceptable to me.

Read My Review

Passage to Remember:

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”



#5. “Just After Sunset,” by Stephen King

What I Wrote Then:
“As much as I love Stephen King's brilliant novels such as the incomparable ‘The Stand,’ the terrifying 'It' and the epic series ‘The Dark Tower’ -- among many others -- I've always been even more of a fan of his short stories. Having dabbled in the medium in the past, I know how brutally difficult it can be to sketch characters, build drama and create a plot that doesn't feel rushed, all within the constraints of the short-story format. Yet King has always been able to do it with a deft touch that makes it look frustratingly easy.
“After poring through ‘Just After Sunset,’ it's easy to say that -- paraphrasing Mark Twain -- rumors of Stephen King's demise (or retirement, which may amount to the same thing for someone like King) have been greatly exaggerated … and for that, I'm thankful.”

What I Say Now:
This tremendous collection of short stories would certainly rank higher in almost any other year, but “Just After Sunset” simply had the misfortune of being read by me within the same 12 months as many epic classics. Put simply, King rates among the finest short-story writers ever, aided by his innate—and almost scary—ability to create well-rounded characters rhythmically, and almost without you even realizing it. As his career has progressed, he has increasingly called on personal experiences and current events, and as I prepare to take on his new novel, the 20-pound “Under the Dome,” I selfishly hope that he still has another short story collection or two left in that nonstop brain of his.

Read My Review

Passage to Remember:

"Reality is a mystery … and the everyday texture of things is the cloth we draw over it to mask its brightness and darkness. I think we cover the faces of corpses for the same reason. We see the faces of the dead as a kind of gate. It's shut against us … but we know it won't always be shut. Someday it will swing open for each of us, and each of us will go through.
"But there are places where the cloth gets ragged and reality is thin. The face beneath peeps through … but not the face of a corpse. It would almost be better if it was."


Editor’s Note: I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention a lengthy list of honorable-mention winners that I read this year: “Do You Know What It Means to Miss New Orleans” (collection), “Gonzo” (Jann Wenner), “Full Frontal PR” (Richard Laermer), “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy” (Douglas Adams), “The Tin Roof Blowdown” (James Lee Burke) and “Darkness, Take My Hand” (Dennis Lehane) were among the other standouts of ’09.

Happy New Year, all!

Deep Thoughts By No-Look McFadden: Episode 6

#1
Big shout out to Dick Enberg, who is retiring from announcing NFL games after this season. Hearing his “Oh my!” after another Dan Marino aerial was truly the soundtrack of my childhood. He was always underrated, he’ll always be the voice of the AFC to me, and he will be truly missed.

#2
When you go to the Home Depot, why is it that, everywhere you turn, middle-aged folks are lurking nearby to help you—but when you go to pay and leave, there are no cashiers to be found?

#3
Kudos to Jerome Harrison of the Browns. I find people from Ohio more annoying than perhaps any other people I’ve ever come across, but this guy got a raw deal simply because he plays for the Browns. I don’t care if you play for or against the West Butner School of the Blind, if you run for 286 yards in an NFL game, you deserve some goddam publicity. This cat ran for almost 300 yards on the pro level and the dingleberry on Peyton Manning’s left cheek got more airtime.

#4
There are plenty of criticisms about Sidney Lowe that are warranted and even more that are baseless and misguided. But I will say that one of the areas where I have been most disappointed in him is in his inability to work the officials. I figured that, coming from the NBA, this would be a stronger point for him. Guys like Georgia Tech’s Paul Hewitt and Virginia Tech’s Seth Greenberg came into the ACC demanding respect and challenging the establishment that wants to keep UNC and Duke at the top. You can argue that they’ve gone overboard, but demanding respect and begging for it (see Sendek, Herb, and Lowe, Sidney) are two very different things.
If there was ever a game when Lowe should have gotten a technical, it was at Wake Forest. The Pack dramatically cuts the lead to four points and mysteriously gets called for about four fouls in the span of 30 seconds. Cut to Lowe on the sideline, shaking his head and bitching to his assistants. By not getting T’d up, he eventually set the stage for Tracy Smith not only fouling out, but then questioning the officiating after the game. So instead of taking ownership of the situation during the game, Lowe sells his player down the river, and THEN suspends him, too? C’mon Sid … Hell, Damon Thornton thinks that Tracy Smith is getting a raw deal from the officials! And you’ll notice that Wildcats coach Sean Miller called out Karl Hess by name prior to the State-Arizona game (by the way, as far as I know, Miller was never punished in any way for this; I’m pretty sure they would have shut down NC State’s entire program if Lowe would have done this), virtually ensuring that ‘Zona got every call down the stretch of that one as well. Stand up for your school, your players and yourself, Lowe! (*steps off soapbox*)

#5
So, Cowboys Stadium is really big, and it’s pretty, and it cost a lot of money. I get it. Can we move on now? At the end of the day, it’s still a fucking stadium. Don’t act like it’s some feat or accomplishment by Jerry Jones simply because he was able to pay a shit-ton of Mexicans a lot of money to build the damn thing. I don’t care if the toilets massage your arse while you drop a deuce, I don’t care if the stadium hovers itself from state to state for away games, I don’t care if the pizza tastes like macaroni and cheese dipped in the nectar of the gods. Just play football for crissakes.

#6
Why do I feel like every player on the Jacksonville Jaguars has dreadlocks?

#7
It’s been going on for years and years and it sure as hell isn’t going anywhere, but the whole extra point-TV timeout-kickoff-TV timeout has always been my pet peeve. Is it really necessary to give me 14 seconds of game action between six minutes of commercials?

#8
I know Jim Zorn is a dead man walking and the Redskins have been something less than watchable for past two weeks, but tossing the highest-paid defensive player in the NFL out of practice when you’re a lame duck takes cajones. Zorn seems like a good dude placed in an unfair and almost impossible situation, and he has consistently taken the high road. I actually hope he gets another chance someday when he is more ready.

#9
I can’t remember a season when there were so many missed extra points and short field goals in the NFL. It is like an entire generation of kickers got some mysterious choking disease all at the same time. I think it’s a good thing, too; I miss the days when there was a degree of risk in any and all kicks.

#10
Let me get this straight: Coach A goes to Player B and informs him that he is benched. Player B yells at Coach A on national television. Coach A further explains decision to Player B on sidelines. Player B refuses Coach A and re-enters game. Player B then needlessly calls out Coach A publicly after the game.
If Player B were anyone in the NFL besides Butt Favre, there would be an enormous backlash of accusations about the player being selfish, a diva, a locker room cancer, a prima donna and a coach-killer. Because Player B is Favre, instead the story is about how much he “loves the game” and just wants to keep playing with a “child-like enthusiasm.” For those who have a hard time understanding why so many fans now hate Favre, this is reason #624.

and ...

#11
Under special circumstances, you get a bonus one today. Since Texas Tech fired coach Mike Leach (this qualifies as breaking news here at Scooter & Hum) today as part of a bonafide fiasco, I have to touch on this. I used to work with a lady from Lubbock who, before the Red Raiders became a true power, said that word around that city was that Mike Leach was either a) an alcoholic, b) crazy or c) both. The latest charge (and it’s the first allegation of player abuse in Leach’s decade at Texas Tech) centered around Leach confining a concussed player, Adam James, in a closet or shed, depending on who you listen to.
However, since it took ESPN about a full day to admit that the kid involved was the son of their analyst, Craig James, you have to wonder about what truly happened—especially since some of Adam James’s former teammates have come out and said that he was not a hard worker and had a bad attitude. So one could make a compelling argument that this is what happened: a well-placed ESPN announcer who took money while he was a college athlete and helped run one Texas program, SMU, into the ground, basically enlisted the media outlet he works for to help run a coach out of town because his son wasn't handed a starting job because of his name. It sounds like Texas Tech sped the due process partly because of ESPN’s involvement and partly because they’re still upset that Leach interviewed with other schools last year without their permission, in which case I don’t blame Leach for filing a restraining order in return. It sounds eminently possible that Leach is gone because he burned bridges with Texas Tech last year, he was owed $800K on New Year's Eve if he was still coach and ESPN got involved. Either way, this one stinks, and stinks really bad.

Directorial Gambles Pay Off As “Away We Go” Sweeps You Off Your Feet

Verona De Tessant: Burt, are we fuck-ups?
Burt Farlander: No! What do you mean?
Verona De Tessant: I mean, we're 34...
Burt Farlander: I'm 33.
Verona De Tessant: ...and we don't even have this basic stuff figured out.
Burt Farlander: Basic, like how?
Verona De Tessant: Basic, like how to live.
Burt Farlander: We're not fuck-ups.
Verona De Tessant: We have a cardboard window.
Burt Farlander: [Looks at window] We're not fuck-ups.
Verona De Tessant: [Whispers] I think we might be fuck-ups.
Burt Farlander: [Whispers back] We're not fuck-ups.

“Away We Go” was billed as an indy-ish flick, but apparently these days that only means it was released overseas and enjoyed only a limited release in the U.S. Any movie that has Kate Winslet’s husband, Sam Mendes, attached to it can’t quite be passed off an indy-like, but getting past that, this was a refreshing surprise. After all, Mendes has been the vehicle behind such depression-fests as “Reservation Road” and “American Beauty,” and while “Away We Go” was riddled with much of the modern cynicism that permeates those films, it offers up enough glimmers of hope and optimism to keep you keeping on.

From a directorial perspective, Mendes’s first big gamble was casting Jim from “The Office” (Jim Krasinski) and an SNL cast member (Maya Rudolph). Initially, Burt and Verona make for an awkward pairing and a seemingly forced attraction dynamic, but the pair as a team eventually wins you over. Catherine O’Hara and Allison Janney were tremendous in bit parts, as was the always-impressive Maggie Gyllenhaal. These were among the many friends and family members that Burt and the six-month-pregnant Verona meet along the way as they decide to search the country (and Canada) for the ideal place to bring up their child.

Along the way, Burt and Verona are shown many different ways to both raise a child and live as a family, and they begin to realize that their quest is becoming less of a search for where to live than a search for how to run their family. Their crazy journey takes them to many strange and eclectic places, including to amateur night at a strip club, where Burt’s friend Tom (Chris Messina) steals a scene with an emotional and tender stream-of-consciousness moment. And while they try to decide on where to live and how their family should be shaped, Burt keeps trying to convince Verona to marry him, to no avail.

And while much of the movie was certainly riddled with Mendes’s odd and occasionally depressing brand of film-making, it was also extremely funny as well -- quite a departure from most of Mendes’s flicks that I have seen. Throw in a great soundtrack and some touching scenes, and it’s easy to see why “Away We Go” was met with a lot of critical acclaim. On a personal level, as a recent father and husband who had and has many of the same natural questions and fears as Burt (and Verona), it certainly struck a chord, coming across as very poignant.

The ending could have come across as predictable and cheesy, but Mendes treated it with kid gloves, directing it carefully enough to make it work. With similar endings in other flicks, I would have been a bit turned off, but I have to admit that he somehow pulled it off -- and I couldn’t tell you how he managed that. I guess that’s why he gets paid the big bucks.

And while the treatment of the conclusion and rolling the dice on casting the main two characters without crapping out will define Mendes’s work on this film for me, I also have to applaud him for, in my opinion, actually taking a chance on himself. I suppose it would have been easy to continue down the directorial path he had been following, but he pushed himself to break out of that mold somewhat -- and the result was one of the more enjoyable films I’ve seen in a while.

A Commentary On Daytime TV ... Grumpy Style

It's almost funnier in foreign, yes?

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXX: Hanukkah Harry Should Bring Lieberman A Heart, Plus What A Christmas To Remember

He’s the worst of all the cowardly men
Looked out for his own interests again
Was once a well-respected Hebrew
Then he pulled the party switcharoo
How do you sleep at night, Joe Lieberman?

Bobby Knight wonders about Kentucky
And why their coach leaves schools so unlucky
They get probation, he gets a Ferrari
That’s the life of John Calipari
Pretty bad when Knight calls your morals sucky

He’s leaving the Worldwide Leader
Says MLB Network is much neater
Gammons is the latest to flee
ESPN is becoming a joke, you see
Thanks for adding to their demise, Peter

Losing Brittany Murphy, a sad day
She was hot in her own quirky way
Chris Henry was too soon put to rest
But because of his many arrests
His wasn’t a surprising story, hate to say

Tracy Smith suspended for a game
For calling out the officiating as lame
He said what they didn’t want to hear
So he won’t get a call in his career
ACC refs are a cheating, embarrassing shame

These sad limericks are rather rough
So let’s get on to happier stuff
The first Christmas for my little Ube
Santa’s brought her a present or 23
Nothing for me -- one miracle present was enough

Last time …

Uncle Dave's Rip-Roarding, Raucous, Romping, Ruinous Ride -- In A Cupcake

Here's hoping your Christmas Eve is as festive as a hilarious ride in an oversized cupcake. And also hoping that the "bull in a China shop" cliche is someday changed to a "huge cupcake in a TV set."

Cheers to you and yours ...

“It’s A Festivus Miracle!”

Frank: “Many Christmases ago, I went to buy a doll for my son. I reached for the last one they had, but so did another man.
“As I rained blows upon him, I realized there had to be another way.”
Kramer: “What happened to the doll?”
Frank: “It was destroyed. But out of that, a new holiday was born … a Festivus for the rest of us!”

You’ll find that Festivus has been a yearly celebration here at Scooter & Hum, with nods to Frank Costanza’s beloved celebration in 2006, again in 2006, 2007 and 2008. Well, another year has passed, and with it the realization that the principles behind Festivus remain as strong and as timeless as ever. After all, Festivus is our heritage ... it's part of who we are.

So this year, as part of a holiday cubicle-decorating contest here at work -- and without a tiny metal pole -- I created the first Festivus tree (below). In lieu of a pole, I thought a wee fake tree would be fairly in keeping with Mr. Costanza’s belief system (which I find fascinating).

Anyway, here’s to hoping that your “Airing of Grievances” (“I have a lot of problems with you people!”) goes swimmingly. And hit the 2008 link above to enjoy a Festivus video.

Happy Festivus everyone!

Bad Luck, Bad Draw Sink Best Team Once Again

In many ways, I knew my Blind Midget Patrol chances were sunk when I got screwed out of getting the bye week for the playoffs. Still, despite another insane outing by my opponent's Chris Johnson, I still had a shot to advance. Down 23 points, I had Anquan Boldin and Neil Rackers going for the Cardinals against the ‘Niners—certainly not the situation you want to be in, but eminently doable. A couple of field goals from Rackers and a touchdown and a typical yardage game from Boldin and I could pull this thing out.

Of course, then Rackers gets hurt during freaking pregame warmups and Arizona pulls an el fold-o against San Fran, with Boldin pitching in with very little yardage and a fumble to boot. So not getting the bye killed me, as I had predicted, and I ended up losing by 19 points to the league’s hottest team.

The following week, it didn’t help that I didn’t realize that we played a consolation round in my league, so I didn’t make any transactions until after the deadline. Then, Michael Turner got hurt on his first carry of his game, taking one of my big hitters out of the fray immediately. The result? I still romped over my foe to end up at 9-6 overall, scoring a whopping 126 points. Holy crap.

So despite Turner’s persistent injuries, I managed to average an incredible 103.2 points per game over the last five weeks. Once again, I had the best and easily the highest-scoring team in my fantasy football league -- and have nothing to show for it but a fourth-place finish.

Anyway, great job, Blind Midget Patrol; you were an epic team. It was an honor to coach you …

Playoff Hopes All But Extinguished, ‘Fins Need To Turn An Eye Toward The Future

After a thoroughly devastating loss that was aided by perhaps the worst officiating call I’ve ever seen when time and place are taken into account, the Dolphins’ playoff hopes have taken a hit that will be nearly impossible to overcome. With a highly unlikely and nearly insurmountable road to the postseason lying ahead, it may be high time for the ‘Fins to cast an eye toward April’s NFL Draft and the 2010 campaign. To that end, here’s a look at five crucial position groups where coach Tony Sparano needs to consider taking a different approach for the final two games of the regular season.

Without further ado …


QUARTERBACK

Let’s just face the facts: second-rounder Pat White was a bad draft pick. It happens. But how does a mistake become a problem? Through repetition. Continuing to trot White out there for mind-numbing option errors that feature no actual passing threat reeks of a braintrust dead-set to prove that they didn’t drop the ball (something else White does well). So please, no more WildPat or PatCat or whatever you want to call it—because the reality is it’s been a Pile o’ Shat.

Chad Henne has shown some promising signs, but he needs every possible rep, especially in the red zone, to work on his accuracy and touch. So scrap the Pat White packages and let Henne handle everything from here on out.


RUNNING BACK

You’ll find few bigger Ricky Williams fans than me, and it’s simply staggering the way he’s run the last couple of years. But it’s becoming apparent that he’s slowing down, as evidenced by his four fumbles in two weeks, and there’s little point in unnecessarily pounding him for the last couple of games if postseason hopes are lost. Let’s save all the mileage we can on him while we can, and save whatever he has left for next year.

Giving Ricky a rest would allow the ‘Fins to take a hard look at Lex Hilliard, which is doubly important since Ronnie Brown is a free agent after yet another injury-riddled year, so Miami needs to know all it can about the backs currently in the stable. Run Hilliard often and allow Kory Sheets—an intriguing prospect, by all accounts—to sniff the field as well, so we’ll have a better idea of whether we need to spend a high draft pick on another running back to groom this April. The Brown situation will be one of the trickiest of this administration’s tenure, so gathering all the information possible about the potential depth is vital.


WIDE RECEIVER

Considering the relative lack of playmakers in the Dolphins receiving corps, you’d have to work pretty hard to argue the point that Patrick Turner has been something of a bust. As a third-rounder at a position of need, it’s rather mind-boggling that he hasn’t sniffed the field. Sparano & Co. trot out the excuse that, as the fifth receiver, they can’t activate him on game day without deactivating another wideout. OK … might I volunteer Ned Ginn? Doing so would not only allow Turner to get some reps, but it would also let Miami take a hard look at Sheets on returns, where he is supposed to be a promising option.


No matter how you have to do it, find a way to get Turner in the game and send some balls his way. As things stand now, Miami has a collection of No. 3 receivers, without a true playmaker in the bunch. Finding a No. 1 option at wideout is one of the top offseason priorities, but let’s see what we have in Turner first before we turn to the draft once again for help.


LINEBACKER

By now, we know Jason Taylor and Joey Porter can—and most importantly, can’t—do, so trotting a couple of 30-somethings out there for meaningless games doesn’t make a lot of sense when you have a freakishly talented Cameron Wake waiting in the wings. The Dolphins’ rationale has been that, while Wake is a stellar pass-rusher, he doesn’t have the run-defending chops necessary yet to be considered a complete linebacker. Well, guess what? He’s not going to develop in that area without getting some game reps on first and second down. After all, JT and Porter aren’t going to be around much longer anyway, so let’s start taking an extended look at Wake to see whether he is always going to be primarily a sack specialist or whether he has the skill set to transition into an every-down player.


SAFETY

I’ll just say it: If you don’t have a safety better than Gibril Wilson, then you were never a playoff team to begin with. There is a strong case to be made that Wilson is the worst safety in the NFL, and the fact that he keeps getting starting nods is a frightening statement on what Miami has behind him on the depth chart. I understand there was a significant financial commitment made to Wilson as a free agent this past offseason, but it’s high time Bill Parcells and Jeff Ireland admit they made another Ernest Wilford-worthy miscalculation and just freaking move on.


I don’t know if fifth-rounder Chris Clemons out of Clemson is the answer, and judging by his late draft selection, I’m sure the odds are against it. Tyrone Culver has played well in stretches behind Wilson, so at the least let's throw some more snaps in the direction of Clemons and Culver to get a better idea of what they're capable of. The hope for this offseason is that the Dolphins cut their losses with Wilson and look elsewhere for a dynamic free safety, but in the meantime, the staff should, once again, take a needed look at the existing resources to see what is there. Hell, I would rather see Jason Allen back there than Wilson, and that makes me throw up in my mouth a little just to say it. The bottom line is that if Gibril “The Gerbil” Wilson is starting in aqua and orange again in 2010, this brainstrust has turned a bad evaluation into a gross mistake through sheer misguided loyalty and ego.


All that being said, apparently there is a slight chance that Miami can fall into the playoffs somehow. So as Jimmy V said, “Never give up” … but be sure to keep one eye on the future as you cling to hopes that are improbable at best.

Deep Thoughts By No-Look McFadden: Episode 5

#1
I’m pretty sure that Jim Nance has had sex with Tom Brady. And I’m pretty sure Phil Simms lives in Bill Belichick’s cellar in the offseason. Besides that, they’re pretty objective.

#2
I haven’t seen that show “Chuck,” but I’ve heard good things about Pete Sampras in the title role.

#3
‘Roids now, Tiger? Really? Well, that explains why you and your butt-buddy caddy, Stevie, like to attack Asians with cameras in the tee box. Quite a December for you, Adultrick (credit to Rome) … couldn’t happen to a nicer douche.

#4
Tyler Smith is still at Tennessee? Really? He’s been around so long that I actually interviewed him at the Bob Gibbons Tournament of Champions when he was still in high school and looking at NC State. That kid has to be 30 by now. I swear he played in the same backcourt as Allan Houston for the Volunteers.

#5
I have never been much of a Joe Buck fan because he comes off too smarmy for my liking. But now he is entering into douche territory because he thinks he’s funny. Dude, go watch some Mike Tirico calls and try to recall why you got into this. Call the game; you’re not the show. Remember that.

#6
There are four and only four candidates for NFL MVP this year: Drew Brees, Peyton Manning, Philip Rivers and Chris Johnson. Anyone who casts a ballot that includes anyone outside of these four should have their voting privileges revoked. I’m looking at you, Peter “Butt Favre Spoons Me Sometimes” King.

#7
I didn’t see “Alvin and the Chipmunks,” but I have to say that I saw a commercial last night for “Alvin and the Chipmunks: The Squeakquel” -- and it looked both creepy and terrifying.

#8
Ed “Nard Dog” Helms is making a strong bid as current funniest person on earth. Just sayin’.

#9
Wake Forest’s Al-Farouq Aminu is a damn fine player, and outside of the fact that he once shot a woman with a BB gun and was arrested for assault and trespassing, you could argue it’s a good thing for the ACC that he came back for his sophomore year. That being said, a modest Guatemalan family could live on his lower lip comfortably.

#10
Watching the Charlie Brown Christmas special, I’m surprised that big-headed fucker didn’t go Columbine like 50 years ago. Also, I always thought Charlie Brown was Jewish for some reason? *shrug*

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXIX: The Fighting Irish Go On A Diet, Plus The Environment Takes Center Stage

The stench in South Bend was getting smelly
So they shit-canned Charlie Weis and his belly
Tough times for Notre Dame
The Irish have been off their game
Good luck with all that, Brian Kelly

Walks around with his arm in a sling
Broke it jerking the media with his aw-shucks thing
Threw a guy out of the Queen Dome
For heckling his player in the Heels home
Need any more proof that he’s the douche king?

In Copenhagen, controversy roars
As the global temperature soars
Feet dragging at the UN climate summit
As optimism begins to plummet
The Green Revolution may necessitate some wars

Titles in Baton Rouge are the norm
Violation rumors as Miles's seat gets warm
Jamarcus Russell used to be the main guy
Now he’s benched for freaking Charlie Frye?
LSU football is in pretty rough form

Another illiterate, cheap-shotting Tar Hole
Suspended from the Muffler Bowl
He’d attacked a teammate previously
Then Bitch lied about it for all to see
More thugs=more raises seems to be the goal


Fake boobs and a hair spray head
Fake tan and older men did bed
Remember “Kids in the Hall”?
She looks like “Chicken Lady,” y’all
So, ding dong—the bitch is dead

Last time …

Quirky, Touching “Sunshine Cleaning” Is Film Equivalent Of A Hooker With A Heart Of Gold

“We come into people’s lives when they’ve experienced something profound. And we help. In some small way, we help.”

The first thing I’ll say about “Sunshine Cleaning” is that their makeup crew deserves some serious awards, because it must be hard work to make two beautiful women like Amy Adams and Emily Blunt look as downtrodden and trailer-trashish as they did. I had heard this movie compared to “Juno” somewhat, and I could definitely note a similar look and feel to that film. Overall, “Sunshine Cleaning” was a raw, frank, no-holds-barred look at the depths that desperation can drive people to and the means that folks can use to justify the ends.

In a fairly intricately woven plot, this flick touches on a tremendous number of themes: depression, hopelessness, dementia, old age, fragility, sexuality, weirdness, eclecticness, abuse, family problems, communication, exile, suicide, death, disability … you name it, and “Sunshine Cleaning” had it. In fact, it evoked memories of George Costanza’s famous line: “I’m disturbed! I’m depressed! I’m inadequate! I’ve got it all!”

One of the intriguing aspects of watching this piece is witnessing surprising performances from actors in roles that are way outside of what we expect of them. Adams (who looks more and more like Pam from "The Office" every time I see her) cast in the role of the former-cheerleader-turned-white-trash-maid-with-real-estate-dreams is a huge departure from her other projects, while it takes some getting used to to see the usually funny Steve Zahn cast as a philandering cop. Blunt is tremendous as the bad-luck sister, Alan Arkin is great as always as the misguided, well-intentioned father, and Adams’s son is … well … creepy on purpose. I’d be remiss if I didn’t also mention Clifton Collins Jr., who turned in a really touching performance as Winston, a store owner/Def Leppard drummer. “Chloe” from “24” made an appearance as well, but she’s always going to be typecast as the weird loner, and that’s exactly what she played again here.

Directed by Christine Jeffs and written by Megan Holley, “Sunshine Cleaning” is never described without the use of the word “offbeat,” and that adjective fits ideally. The movie features some well-timed music usage, but for the most part there is very sparse intrusion of camera techniques and music overall. I applaud the strong acting, and I only took issue with a few parts of the plot—for instance, the idea of using the CB to talk to loved ones in heaven felt a bit forced and the ending felt a bit too neatly-tied-up and contrived. So this film wasn’t a great one by any stretch, but it was really good, funny and had a sentimental heart … and these days, those things are hard to find in a movie, so they go a long way with me.

Subtle Sexuality Hammers On "Male Prima Donna"

No appearance by Scrantonicity?! C'mon, "The Office"!

Bowl Onslaught, BCS B.S. Begin

As the litany of bowls pairing average teams starts in a matter of days, it's worth another call for a playoff system in major college football. There's no reason why TCU and Boise State should be playing each other as a pair of undefeated teams-- it reeks of the BCS covering their asses by not allowing either of those teams to play one of the heavyweight "name" schools. I found myself watching Montana and Appalachian State in that division's championship game and could not help but be reeled in to the emotion of the game, the setting in the snow and the pageantry involved. I've long been an advocate for an eight-game playoff, but as long as the money keeps flowing in and the elite programs are protected by the NCAA, the bowl system is going to remain in place. I've accepted that, but it doesn't mean I have to like it.

As a State grad, I don't have a dog in the fight, and I wrote an article for Pack Pride detailing some of the many of the reasons why. You can read it here if you're interested. In the meantime, geaux Tigers and go Longhorns (please don't let Nick Satan win a national title).

Lack Of Focus, Dodgy Plotlines Define “Hancock”

I’m still not sure of what events had to transpire for me to be convinced to watch “Hancock,” but it happened—maybe I was tricked into thinking this was a retrospective documentary on the life and times of electronica whiz Herbie Hancock. Anyway, it was as weak as I expected it to be. And a movie has to be pretty bad if it has one of my all-time favorites, Charlize Theron, in it and I still thinks it blows. Well, world, meet “Hancock.” “Hancock,” world.

This flick was directed by Peter Berg, refuting the theory that not all bad actors become good directors. And the sad part is I actually feel that there was a fairly interesting premise within this plot, but perhaps it was better suited for a TV show rather than a full-length feature film. Also, three-quarters of the way through the movie, there was a strange, unexpected and slightly confusing plot shift that, in my eyes, moved a “poor” flick into “really bad” territory. Of course, I can admit that perhaps this is one that is targeted more toward the teen dynamic, in which case I can’t really relate to it on that level.

It was an intriguing cast, at least. I’ve always thought Jason Bateman is pretty underrated from a comedic standpoint, and Charlize is, well, Charlize. But I don’t know, and maybe it’s just me, but I’m really tired of Will Smith at this point. I just think he’s a really limited actor and I feel like I essentially saw this same character in “Independence Day.”

Amazingly, the story itself is more than a decade old, and reports are that “Hancock” went through a series of directors before eventually moving into production in 2007. And I say “amazingly” because I would think that somewhere amidst all those alleged professionals, someone would have had the stones to say, “Hey, you know what? This story essentially chews the mighty wanker.”

On the whole, outside of a few pretty cool special effects, I thought “Hancock” was a pretty big swing and miss … and of course, what does that mean in Hollywood? A sequel is on the way! Which all makes me think that Tinseltown could learn a lot from Scott Adams’s quote: “Creativity is about allowing yourself to make mistakes. Art is knowing which ones to keep.”

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXVIII: Some Of Us Still Think The Nobel Is Pretty Cool, Plus Tiger Douchery Persists

Of its former self, the U.S. is a shell
Case in point: Obama winning the Nobel
He never asked for this prize
Refreshing, a prez not telling lies
But the backlash against it, what the hell?

His marriage he did defile
Now he wants to reconcile
Conservatives don’t really care
About governor Mark Sanford’s affair
The Republican party: hypocrisy with a smile

The chase is on for the ‘Fins
The playoffs requires four more wins
Henne was hotter than a hair curler
Reminded me none of the Hebrew hurler
Just don’t throw it to Ned Ginn’s

Spend the day going “What the hell?”
No sales? It’s just as well
Petty bickering like teenage girls
Lotsa dirty oysters, but no pearls
At least having a job is pretty swell

The tabloids claim to have all the goods
E! TV is full of maybes and coulds
His appeal is dropping like a flop shot
He was an a-hole long before he got caught
Stay locked in your bathroom, El-Dick Woods

Last time …

Blind Midget Patrol Uses Really Small Cane To Find Playoffs Yet Again

After a disappointing end to the WFFL campaign that saw The Scooters finish with a league-best divisional record of 5-1—yet go 0-6 against everyone else and miss the playoffs—the attention has been turned to my other team, Blind Midget Patrol. The Midgies are, frankly, on fire, reeling off three straight blowout wins to end the season and finishing up as the highest-scoring team in the Beyond the Glory ESPN league. BMP is seeking to avenge last year's championship-game loss, with the hopes that the absence of a choking Andre Johnson (although my team does feature a former choke artist in Antonio Gates -- *gulp*) will put us over the top.

I earned the fourth seed in the playoffs, which is mildly disappointing since I was in tremendous position to win the division and earn the first-week bye in the playoffs. After I knocked off the division leader last week, he was on the verge of losing again this week, which would have given us the same final record (8-5), which would have given me the division based on my divisional record (3-1). He held a four-point lead going into Monday night, but his opponent had the Ravens’ Derrick Mason still to play, meaning that it would take only 50 yards (without a touchdown) from a guy who is having a strong year to beat him. Mason’s response? Two catches, 13 yards. To make matters worse, Mason had a long catch that was called back on a highly controversial offensive pass interference, a play that would have given me the division crown. The bye would have meant even more because it would have allowed me an off week to wait for Atlanta back Michael Turner’s ankle to get better. Oh well.

Injuries have been mounting for BMP, but it’s a strong, balanced team that has been putting up lotsa points throughout the second half of the year. My opponent this week is on an amazing seven-game winning streak (yet another reason why a bye woulda been kinda nice), meaning that he went from 1-5 to 8-5 to eke into the playoffs. It’ll be quite a challenge, obviously … but we’re playing for all the blind midgets out there.

OK, it’s just that one lil’ bitch in Durham.

Go Midgies!

Howard Finally Captures Brown’s Vision In “Angels & Demons”

No matter what opinion you hold of Dan Brown and how much of his stories he’s stolen, it’s hard to deny that the man can weave a tale. With “The Da Vinci Code,” however, that storytelling didn’t transfer to the silver screen, despite the presence of director Ron Howard. In Howard’s next stab at directing a Brown novel, “Angels & Demons,” he fares much better, creating a compelling movie that sucks you in with tremendous pacing.

“Angels & Demons” was actually published before “The Da Vinci Code” and takes place before it chronologically, although “Angels & Demons” is still being billed as the sequel. And if “The Da Vinci Code” offended the Roman Catholic Church with some of its themes and assertions, then the “Angels & Demons” took it straight across the line and went ahead and took a dump on the church itself. “Angels & Demons” features murdered Popes, murdering priests and rigged elections, while painting the Vatican as the equivalent of the CTU headquarters on “24.”

Tom Hanks is back as professor Robert Langdon, and he seems to be much more secure and comfortable in the role this time around. Partially, the heightened sense of believability surrounding him in this one could be aided by the fact that there is no highly forced, nonexistent sexual tension with the female lead. Ayelet Zurer plays Vittoria Vetra, but her part is minimal and Howard made a wise decision in pushing her into the background and allowing the story to dominate the movie. The casting surprises are Ewan McGregor as Camerlengo Patrick McKenna and Stellan Skarsgard as Commander Richter; two relatively heavy-hitters in the movie biz who are relegated to lower billing, but make the most of their opportunities.


It had been a few years since I read “Angels & Demons,” but reliving it through the flick quickly jogged my memory, and Howard did a much better job of envisioning the book as a film, in my opinion. I believe a big part of that is that the plotlines of “Angels & Demons” lend themselves better to the screen, with a series of events happening in sequence and linked a bit better. Eliminating the straight hottie in the female lead role also assisted in relying on the history, culture and tradition of Rome, the Vatican and the Roman Catholic church to elevate the movie.

After the severe average-ness of “The Da Vinci Code,” I wasn’t willing to risk a trip to the theater to see this one, but it fit in nicely as a NetFlix addition, and it’s well worth the time to see both Howard and Hanks performing at levels closer to what we usually expect of them.

Deep Thoughts By No-Look McFadden: Episode 4

#1
UNC receiver Greg Little is emblematic of the Miami-style thugs that Bitch Davis is bringing into the Tar Heel fold. Not smart enough to make it into most schools, a tremendous athlete, little on-field sense, no control of emotions … in short, a guy you expect to read about shooting up a liquor store every morning when you open up the paper. His actions during the Jarvis Byrd injury and throughout the State game would get him suspended at any program that has an ounce of class, so I fully expect him to be starting in the Holes’ bowl game. And I never root for a player to get injured, but I hope he snaps his femur in about nine places and then gets run over by the team bus for good measure. 0-3 vs. the Pack, punk bitch.

#2
OK, I’ve been sitting on this for years now, but w.t.f. on the FOX NFL robot? What the hell is that supposed to be? What does it mean? Does anyone else find it odd that some strange robot cabbage-patching and throwing up gang signs is supposed to somehow represent the NFL? I guess it is Fox, after all; I can count the things they do that makes sense on one hand.

#3
Newest football pet peeve: CB tries to cover WR. WR beats CB severely. Ball is overthrown. CB celebrates. Worse, yet, WR drops ball. CB celebrates. Really? Is that how far we’ve sunk in our athletic culture, that you can get destroyed by your opponent, but then try to act like it’s an accomplishment when your opponent then fails to make the play? Christ.

#4
I used to like Gus Johnson. I think we don’t have enough announcers who are actually invested in the game anymore, and Gus calls his games like he’s a 12-year-old attending his first pro contest. His epic call of the end of the State-UConn tourney game—“And here comes the man from Harlem!”—will always ensure he has a place in my heart. All that being said, he’s crossed that line to where he’s becoming a joke. His sucking up to the home team and over-exuberance is essentially turning him into a slightly less sellout, two-functioning-eyed version of Stuart Scott. Check yourself, Gus, before it’s too late.

#5
On Saturday against the Holes, State quarterback Russell Wilson sported eyeblack that said “Dana” under one eye and “Bible” under the other. Talk about a kid who just “gets” it; things got a little dusty for Scoot when he saw that. Contrast that with Ohio State signal-caller Terrelle Pryor, who wore “Michael Vick” on his face in the season opener. Nice message, jerkoff; an overrated, borderline bust “honoring” a convict. It’s no wonder college football is turning into a shadier version of the NFL.

#6
Out of Context Quote of the Week: Dolphins quarterback Chad Henne was asked about erasing the memory of his three-interception fourth quarter last week. According to the Miami Herald, he said, “I am going to wipe all of this behind me.” It’s OK, Chad, I’m sure that doesn’t mean what we think it means. And maybe this is only funny to a new Dad who changes his one-month-old daughter’s diapers consistently.

#7
Freshman Dion Lewis may have been the best running back I saw all year. Unfortunately, he plays for Pitt, which means Dave Wannstache isn’t going to stop giving him the ball until he destroys the kid’s career. In the Big East championship game, Lewis—who goes 5-8, 195 pounds, by the way—got the ball on the first 15 plays. Yes, you read that right—15 fucking plays. He had 29 carries at freaking halftime. What does your gameplan become at that point? “Hey Coach, Lewis already has 30 carries, so … what do you want to do?” “What do you mean? Run that 5-8 kid until his spleen ruptures. Then throw it to him.” I mean, this is exactly the reason why Ricky Williams retired: because the ‘Stache made him run it every goddam play, even when the other team had 12 guys in the box. Lewis ended the day with 47. Freaking. Carries. Are you fucking kidding me?!
Note to Dion: Transfer. Now. If you want to have any chance of playing professional football, it is time to say goodbye to Pittsburgh.
P.S. I hear Raleigh is a nice college town.

#8
If you have two functioning legs, the cutoff for using an elevator is a mandatory two-floor difference between where you’re getting on and where you’re going. If it’s a single floor, grow a pair, have some self-respect and take the goddam stairs.

#9
During a night football game in Boise, Idaho, a coupla weeks ago, they showed an entire row of students wearing Boise State Snuggies in the freezing cold. I’m not positive why, but I found that absolutely hilarious.

#10
I have a crush on Flo from Progressive. There. I said it.

Thirty Years Later, “Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy” Is Still Funny—But Something’s Missing

“I mean what’s the use of our sitting up arguing that there may or may not be a God if this machine only goes and gives you his bleeding phone number the next morning?”

Somehow, I have made it through a significant portion of my life without ever reading Douglas Adams’s “The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” which serves as a sort of cultural touchstone in many ways. It was well-envisioned, masterfully executed, ironic, clever, satirical, very funny … it was all these things -- and I still didn’t totally get the fascination with it.

First off, the opening two lines of the book earned it a place on a list of the top 10 Most Outrageous Opening Lines in Literature -- at 10th. As a reader, you’re immediately assaulted with a string of really funny lines (“Parts of the inside of her head screamed at other parts of the inside of her head.”), tremendous characters (Marvin the Paranoid Android was like C3PO on crystal meth), and many fascinating and nearly comprehensible turns of events that eventually lead to space beings addressing the eternal question of the meaning of life. So, what was the The Answer to the Great question of Life, the Universe and Everything?

“‘Forty-two,’ said Deep Thought, with infinite majesty and calm.”

I mean, you have to like an author who comes up with that and a book that lives it. Yet, I felt myself wanting more. Somewhere inside me, I felt like I needed to know Arthur Dent a little better (“He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.” ). I wanted to know Trillian more, and the story of how she came to get mixed up with Zaphod Beeblebrox (“Trillian had come to suspect that the main reason why he had had such a wild and successful life was that he never really understood the significance of anything he did.”). I wished I had more to go on as it related to Ford (“Ford skidded down a beam of light and spun round trying to find a source for the voice but could see nothing he could seriously believe in.” )


Although I can appreciate the minimalist character development approach, I do think it can be problematic for those who enter into it with an intent to read the book as a standalone. Not everybody can commit to spending another portion of your life reading four more novels in the same vein.

It was certainly a wild, wacky ride, but I wasn’t quite ready to get off of it. The ending was sudden and jarring enough that you’re left wondering if you missed something, or if it jumps to another part of the book (I read a version that included a film tie-in with author and director commentary, which further confused me). Now, don’t get me wrong -- I enjoyed the book and I can see some of the appeal. But I I guess I didn’t quite “get it” as part of a larger cultural phenomenon that inspired a long series of books, a movie and countless references. Hell, it's considered a freaking "franchise."

It certainly could be just me. *shrug* Oh well. Radiohead’s Marvin-inspired“Paranoid Android” was a good song.

“Reservation Road” Carves Out Niche As The Definitive Anti-Chick Flick

“I just wanted us to live again. For years, I thought we've shared this secret that we would be wonderful in the world. I don't know exactly how, but just the possibility kept me hoping. How pathetic is that? So stupid. To put all your hopes in a promise that was never made.”

I had been warned about “Reservation Road.” As a newlywed, the advice went, don’t see this movie, because it’ll make you give up on marriage pretty quick. And from jumpstreet, it offered an admittedly bleak depiction of matrimony; there’s no denying that. In fact, the entire flick was pervaded with a sense of melancholy and depression—not surprising considering that Sam Mendes was the director. The entire movie came off with very similar tones, emotions and themes as another Mendes vehicle, “American Beauty.”

The lead characters were Leonardo DiCaprio and the always-amazing Kate Winslet—who happens to be Mendes’ real-life wife. (On a side note, I can’t imagine how difficult it must be for Mendes to be directing scenes where his wife is getting dry-humped by two different dudes.) DiCaprio is a bit too much of an over-actor for my liking, but he’s solid as worn-out salesman Frank Wheeler, while Winslet plays his bored wife, April. Frank sees his life stretching out before him, a series of days where he has to punch the clock while never chasing the aspirations he holds inside, returning on the train to the mind-numbing clockwork of suburbia at the end of every workday. April holds on to the memories of their courtship, dreaming of running away from it all, to Europe or anywhere with a pulse.

In many ways, the settings and camerawork reminded me of “Mad Men”; in fact, many of the storylines are similar to how that show would be if Don Draper’s wife, Betty, had a spine. Mendes makes a number of rather odd directorial choices in the quest to capture the spiritual degradation of the 9-to-5 life, resulting in a depressing and emotionally voided movie. We are led to believe that the Wheelers have a couple of children, but they are mysteriously never present, representing a huge missing piece of the film. They were always conveniently absent, leading the viewer to wonder what role they truly play in the Wheelers’ life: How do the children affect their decision-making? What would be different if they never had kids at all? How do the children react to the hostility within the household?

A series of affairs, growing hatred, a recognition of disparate dreams, a never-ending litany of lies and a refusal to communicate ensue, with the result being that April is reduced to a very creepy, “Stepford Wives”-type of robot. This Cure-worthy depression-fest eventually culminates in an ending that appears shocking at first, but then seems to fit right in in retrospect, when you’ve had time to reflect on the flick.

Let’s just say this isn’t a holiday movie. And if you’re in a hiccupping relationship, have second thoughts about getting married or basically questioning the opposite sex in any way, you may be best served to pull a U-turn before you pull up to “Revolutionary Road.”

Limerick Friday LXXXXXXXXXXVII: Citizens Beat Criminals, Plus Tiger Confirms Douchiness

There once was a coach named Davis
Who drove over to Raleigh thanks to Avis
He was all about style and hype
With the Heels the Wolfpack did wipe
And he got his ass kicked on an annual basis

I ordered a sweatshirt from the NFL
Their ProShop made me say, “What the hell?”
Delayed my order three times
In these challenging economic climes
Shouldn’t customer service be done well?

Tiger’s in the news once again
After lying about his infidelity sin
Jim Nance is crying for his golf god
Now we see Tiger’s a douche and fraud
As many of us know he’s always been

A legend finally walks away
Should have ended in a better way
He had his faults, this is true
His rep took a hit or two
Farewell, Bobby Bowden, I do say

There once was a coach named Davis
His thugs always left with long faces
After another Pack beatdown
He said to O'Brien with head down
"I'm your bitch, and I hate to say this"

Last time …

When Track Stars Try To Play Football

Oh, Ned Ginn ... and this doesn't even show him running out of bounds or assuming the fetal position after each and every catch or kickoff return. I still predict he'll be the first non-quarterback ever to slide at the end of a run.

Good times ...

To Ube From Cup A Joe, Volume V

"Soothen My Seether"

Life unfolds
Like a string of broken promises
You search for the pearl
Amidst the wreckage
You comb
Fine tooth
But poorly said
It’s the long road
But it’s the only path
Days become months
Become years
Become decades
Missing spots
And moments
Gone
Not forgotten
Some remembered
Tender melancholy
Drifted with harsh reality
I’ve seen you standing there
Obscured by impostors
In challenging times
Revealed in challenging climes
Who taught me to trust again?
Surrounded by essence
Purified by soul
In red times
I try to recall
What you were here for
Put by my side
In the unlikeliest of ways
Temperament through hope
Compassion through trust
Love through days
And through
This next chapter
A page turns
As does a life
Master the emotions
Calm the bile
Temper the tantrum
Reserve the rage
Anchor the anger
No room for it
In who I am
In who I hope to become
In who I need to emerge
Tested over and over
Shine through it all
Find the diamond
Amidst the coal
Polish me
Pressure me
Resolve me
Forge me
Make me
Imagine me
Look for me
I’ll be standing
Switched
And traded places
In the security
Love in four
Trust in womb
Pink and green
Override ride
Soften me
Make me like that
All the time
Not sometimes
Where there is no longer
Room for skips
Or air for hiccups
So be my soother
The beauty like no other
Has been replaced
By a true another
I’ll back you up
No reservations
No limitations
Open
Undefended
Not guarded
Caution in the wind
Like a dandelion
That’s real
And not hoped
Together with cobwebs
And holes
Believe in me
And I in you
Is all I’ll need
To help soothe
The seether
In me

“Get Smart” Offers Up A Surprising Cocktail Of Funny And Good

Maxwell Smart: Are you thinking what I’m thinking?
The Chief: I don’t know. Were you thinking, “Holy shit, holy shit, a swordfish almost went through my head”? If so, then yes.

Now, I’m not old enough to remember the TV series “Get Smart,” but I’m pretty much up for anything that has Steve Carell and/or Anne Hathaway in it. So when Netflix dialed up this movie adaptation a little while ago, I figured I’d see what the hubbub was about.

After all, Mel Brooks is one of my personal heroes, and he was a co-creator of the TV series, which aired in the late ‘60s. I’m sure he never envisioned someone like “The Rock” starring in any adaptation of “Get Smart,” but we’ll let that one slide.

As expected, Maxwell Smart is played by a bumbling Carell, with some physical-comedy moments that were similar to Kevin James in “Paul Blarth: Mall Cop.” The always-hotter-than-Hades Hathaway is solid in her role as Agent 99, showing a comedic side as well as the ability to perform some of the physical stunt work. Working within this dynamic that holds some sexual tension, Carell rips off a series of hysterical one-liners:

Agent 99: Max has no experience, and I don’t want him as my partner.
Smart: Well, that is a sucker punch to the gonads.

Agent 99: Did you see anything while I was dancing?
Smart: Just once, but I don’t think you expected him to lift you so high.

All in all, “Get Smart” was funnier than expected, even though I felt it was a role that Carell could and would have some fun with. Carell is a bit underrated as an actor, after all, and he’s done a good job of breaking out of the Michael Scott mold often enough (see: “Dan in Real Life”) that you can actually watch him without waiting for Dwight to show up or for him to make a mind-numbing racial fau paux. And overall, it was a pleasant surprise, turning into a much better flick than anticipated (despite the Rock’s presence). I don’t know what, if anything, is in the works, but I could actually see this premise be extended through a few sequels, along the lines of an “Austin Powers” type of series.

And as long as they still feature Carell and Hathaway, I’ll be there to catch them on Netflix.