Crash

It was a little after 7:00 pm. I was in my apartment eating dinner and watching MSNBC when there was a loud BOOM and the entire building shook.

My apartment complex is unstable and far from soundproof. If someone at the other end slams a door, the entire building shakes and everyone can hear it. At this point, I’m used to noises that seem stronger and closer than they really are, so I continued eating as though nothing happened.

I would have continued to ignore it, but a few minutes later my roommate came out of her bedroom and said, “Dude, I think someone just hit the building!” She went downstairs to take a closer look. Meanwhile, I ate.

A few minutes later, my phone rang. The roommie informed me that someone did - in fact - hit the building. No longer able to ignore current events, I decided to check it out… after I finished eating.

When my plate was empty, I grabbed my jacket and digital camera and went outside to investigate. The scene was simple. An alleyway full of police cars, ambulances and fire trucks. A woman, presumably the driver, being attended to by the police and paramedics. As I soaked in the scene, I took pictures. I then asked a few questions to the witnesses to piece together the events. I felt like I was a journalist again.





The woman from apartment number 17 drove home from work. Though the rain had stopped hours ago, it was still very wet outside. When she turned into her carport, her foot slipped off the brake pedal and the car plowed straight into the wall. The setup of the complex has the carports directly below and behind apartments, so she broke a hole into the bedroom of an apartment on the first floor.



Scene of the accident.





The good news is that no one was injured. The bad news is that her car is really jacked up and the apartment she hit is in bad shape. In addition to the hole in the wall, the car destroyed the main power and water lines, so the apartment was dark and completely flooded. Firemen ran in and out of the apartment to dump buckets of water with trash cans and whatever else they could fill. They eventually just shut off the water for the entire complex.

Tough to say what will happen now. One thing is for sure, Mario and his girlfriend (the people from the damaged apartment) will need to find a new place to stay for a while. There is a lot of commotion in that apartment right now, and I can only assume there will be a lot more of that in the days ahead as crews work to fix the damage.

The water will stay off through the night and into tomorrow, so it looks like that hot shower I wanted will have to wait. Also, I drink a lot of tap water, so with the water turned off in the middle of a very thirsty night, I had to hit up the local gas station/mini-mart for some drinks.

Not really a good night for anyone.

But on the bright side, at least dinner was good.


Currently in Rotation: Pop
Noisettes – “24 Hours”


Taken from the album Wild Young Hearts

Death and Taxes

A playlist dedicated to Brittany Murphy (1977-2009). All songs are from movies she starred in.

1. No Doubt – “Just a Girl” (featured in Clueless)
2. Garbage – “Sleep Together” (featured in Cherry Falls)
3. Pharcyde – “Runnin” (featured in 8 Mile)
4. India Arie – “Promises” (featured in Don’t Say A Word)
5. Notorious BIG – “Unbelievable” (featured in 8 Mile)
6. Basement Jaxx – “Do Your Thing” (featured in Just Married)
7. Stan Getz – “Autumn Leaves ” (featured in Sidewalks of New York)
8. Lily Allen – “Shame For You” (featured in Love and Other Disasters)
9. Earth Wind & Fire – “Boogie Wonderland” (performed by Brittany Murphy in Happy Feet)
10. Showbiz & AG – “Next Level (Nyte Time Mix)” (featured in 8 Mile)
11. Radiohead – “My Iron Lung” (featured in Clueless)
12. Rufus f. Chaka Khan – “Tell Me Something Good” (performed by Pink in Happy Feet)
13. Carly Simon – “That's The Way I Always Heard It Should Be” (featured in Little Black Book)

Currently Listening to: Hip-Hop
Notorious Big - "Unbelievable"

Taken from the album Ready to Die

Oh, Chariot!

A few days ago, I finally dropped off my car at a body shop in Ontario to repair the damaged door from my hit and run encounter. In need of a set of wheels to get around in the meantime, I called up Enterprise for a rental car. They picked me up and took me back to the agency in Pomona, where I filled out the paperwork to get a ride for 7-10 days. All good, right?

Hell No! I hate this car so much it's a shame.

I got a red Chevy Cobalt sedan. Don't let the name and appearance fool you. It may say Chevy, but I’m pretty sure it’s made by Tonka or Mattel. This car is so unstable and rickety it feels like a toy. I’m positive that if I got into a minor fender bender in this car, not only would it be totaled, but a brown paper bag would pop out of the steering wheel instead of an airbag.

It’s also a gas guzzler. I requested a small car so that fueling up wouldn’t be an issue, but it seems like every time I drive around the corner, I’m already down a quarter of a tank. And speaking of which, isn’t it customary that the agency give you a car with a full tank? The Cobalt STARTED at a quarter of a tank.

Isn’t it also customary that they spritz the car with some nice scents, like “new car smell,” to at least give you the illusion that you’re driving a vehicle that hasn’t been abused by a thousand other people before you. The Cobalt smells like cigarettes. I don't know who decided to hotbox with their Marlboros, but the car reeks of tobacco ash.

Another question: don’t they usually clean out the cars before giving them to you? Today I went Christmas shopping and, for the first time, looked into the backseat of the car. I was kinda floored by what I saw. In the back cupholder was a McDonald’s cup, filled with Sprite. The Sprite had been sitting in there for so long that it was leaking from the bottom. On the back seat was a barbecue dipping sauce. What the f**k! Did they hit up the drive-thru window right before giving me the car? I’m just thankful the barbecue container wasn’t opened, or that there were no Chicken McNuggets scattered around the trunk. Which leads me to...

The trunk on the Cobalt is a pain in the a**. I put my Christmas gifts inside the trunk at the mall (because for some reason, the backseat seemed like a bad idea). But when I got back to my place, the trunk wouldn’t open up. I spent almost ten minutes trying to put the key in and wiggle it around in random ways. I felt like the car was holding my stuff hostage. When it finally opened, I took my stuff out, closed the trunk, then tried it again to see if the stuck trunk was a one time thing... I still haven’t been able to get it open.

By no means do I hate Chevys. When Tom, Ari and I went on our road trip through Canada and the East Coast, we did the entire trip in an Impala. I drove 98% of the time and afterwards, I really felt like the Impala was a dope ride. But I can’t say the same about the Cobalt.

But then again, perhaps the fault lies not with Chevy, but with Enterprise. After all, I highly doubt that the soda, barbecue sauce and cigarette scent came from the factory.

Either way, I’d much rather have my Corolla.

PS – That reminds me, I found out that instead of being stuck with the rental car for 7-10 days, it’ll be more like 18 days thanks to holiday delays for ordered parts.

Eff My Life!


Currently in Rotation: Pop

Keane – “Is It Any Wonder”
Taken from the album Under the Iron Sea

Muddy Waters

Sunday morning began with my usual routine: a bowl of oatmeal and NFL football. I couldn’t watch all the games because I had to work in the afternoon, but I figured I would enjoy it while I could. About an hour before I was supposed to leave for work, my stomach started acting funny. I knew something was wrong, but I wasn’t willing to call out of work for a bad feeling, so went anyway.

The first half hour of work was okay, but then I started sweating and having trouble breathing. I went outside to get some air, but it was useless. I was unable to do anything productive, so my supervisor told me to go home. I went to clock out, but suddenly my stomach started going crazy. I ended up running into the manager’s office, grabbing the nearest trash can and filling it with vomit.

Sometimes throwing up makes you feel better; it’s like your body’s own quick fix. After I threw up, I felt better, so I told my supervisor I was willing to stay. But the feeling was short-lived; a few minutes later, I was worse than before. I got dizzy and nauseated, so I told Eminem (Emily M.) that I could no longer work. She called over my supervisor, who once again told me to go home. But at this point, I could barely walk, so I just sat where I was for ten minutes.

When I got the strength, I made my way to the bathroom. But this time, I felt a strong attack of diarrhea coming on, or as Dave Chappelle would call it, mudbutt. For my entire life, I have been strongly against sh**ting in public restrooms. Sunday was one of the few moments I had to make an exception. I threw down my pants, hopped my ass on the seat and held on for dear life. It was rough. I felt something like Ewan McGregor in Trainspotting, or maybe Jeff Daniels in Dumb and Dumber.



Post-mudbutt, I had the urge to vomit again. I started filling up the toilet before it could even finish flushing.

I eventually managed to leave work, but I knew that I had a very small window before I would have another attack. I’m not even sure how I drove because everything was a blur at that point. I just know that instead of going to my apartment, I went to my parents’ house, where they took care of me for the night. From when I got there until I went to sleep (6pm-1am), my night consisted of throwing up every 20 minutes and occasional mudbutt. At one point in the middle of the night, I got so dehydrated that I could no longer feel anything below my elbows or knees. I was completely empty. At the beginning of the night, I thought it was either food poisoning or a stomach bug. By the end of the night, I was convinced that it might be malaria or cholera.

I spent yesterday slowly recovering, just hoping that I could hold down food. Today has been the same. My stomach still isn’t right, but stuff like this rarely resolves itself overnight. I suspect the culprit was food poisoning, most likely the peach preserves I put in the oatmeal. I didn't know it at the time, but I found out later that the delicious jelly was hella old.

For the last few weeks, I thought I was so fortunate because I was pretty much the only person at work who hadn’t gotten sick in November or December. The joke was on me. I not only got sick, I got it worse than anyone else. I’m gonna try to return to work tomorrow. Let’s hope that goes better than the last time.


Currently in Rotation: SynthPop

La Roux – “Colourless Colour”
From the album La Roux

Necessary Roughness

Earlier this evening in New York City, Mark Ingram of the University of Alabama was awarded the Heisman Trophy for being the best collegiate football player in America. I give him props, but I respectfully disagree with the win. I don’t believe he was the best running back in the country, let alone the best overall player. To be sure, he is a very talented player on a great team; but based on his statistics and what I’ve seen from him this season, I can’t call him the best player in the nation.

The Heisman trophy has always suffered from legitimacy issues due to regional bias, out-of-touch Heisman voters, priority of team records over player stats, and other political nonsense. In the case of Ingram, the latter two biases were definitely in effect.

The fact that he was on an undefeated team played a huge role in his consideration over other running backs with better stats but on teams with worse records. But more importantly, from the midpoint of the season, everyone in the media kept talking about how no one from Alabama had ever won the Heisman, thus crowning him as the great hope to win the award. Every game was about how this “storied program” has never had a Heisman winner. I believe this pervasive line of logic swayed votes, a way of further boosting the legacy of the Alabama Crimson Tide program.

There was also a lot of talk about how the winner this year would most likely NOT be a quarterback, regardless of how good they played. Since 2000, a QB had won every year, except in 2005 when Reggie Bush of USC won the trophy (and he could have very easily lost to another quarterback in Vince Young of Texas). The voters were somewhat tired of quarterbacks winning the award, so it was almost a given that a player of another position would win this year.

By no means do I intend to diminish Mark Ingram’s achievements, but rather point out the flaws of the Heisman balloting. The voting is so political and subjective that it pretty much guarantees the best players will have a difficult time getting nominated, let alone win.

This is why I place higher priority on the position awards, such as the Biletnikoff Trophy (best wide receiver), the Jim Thorpe Award (best defensive back), the Doak Walker Award (best running back) and the AP Player of the Year. Interestingly enough, of the five Heisman candidates this year, Mark Ingram is the only one to not win a position award.

So who would I have voted for? Although I’ve been on the Colt McCoy bandwagon for two seasons, I can’t overlook Ndamukong Suh of University of Nebraska. This guy was not only the best college player in the nation, but he’s the only one in this group who I am also 100% positive will have an exceptional career ahead of him. The rest of the guys may or may not become good NFL players, but barring injury, Suh is a guaranteed franchise player. Colt McCoy would get my No. 2 vote and Toby Gerhardt would be my No. 3.

Question: If you had a Heisman ballot, who would you have picked?


Currently in Rotation: Samba

Seu Jorge – Life on Mars
Taken from the album: The Life Aquatic Studio Sessions

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing

Now you're looking for the secret. But you won’t find it because of course, you're not really looking. You don't really want to work it out. You want to be fooled.

- Cutter, The Prestige


If I asked you two weeks ago, “Which African American celebrity has the most hoes on the planet?” you would probably spew out a long list of rappers, actors and pro ballers, but nowhere on the list would I find Tiger Woods. The thought would never cross your mind, even though he’s rich, famous, and fairly good-looking. I wouldn’t blame you, either. Tiger Woods is a bland, stoic everyman who shows no personality unless he pulls off a thrilling feat on the golf course, which is usually limited to a scream and an arm-pump.

Fast-forward to now, after an embarrassing car accident and domestic dispute, when it was revealed that Tiger Woods had us all fooled. Apparently he had more skanks than a Tijuana strip club. The wedding band on his ring finger didn’t stop him from dipping in cookie jars all over the globe. He may not be at Wilt Chamberlain status (20,000 served!!!), but with no fewer than a dozen women allegedly tied to him after just a few days of investigation, it would appear that he has enough skeletons in his closet to fill a graveyard. Suddenly the wholesome, family-oriented guy we all thought he was proved to be just another womanizer. The only way things could get worse for him is if he were slapped with a paternity suit.

I’m not gonna criticize Tiger for getting some booty on the side. By no means do I endorse or condone infidelity, but I understand that it happens, especially when you’re as rich and popular as he is. Hell, I’m a poor nobody and I gotta fight the ladies off with a shovel. I imagine that Tiger Woods’ life is something like an AXE Body Spray commercial: he enters a room and the girls jump on him like wolves or… umm… tigers.

What surprises me is how many of the plain, quiet, seemingly humble athletes get into trouble. Tiger isn’t alone. For example, I used to think Marvin Harrison was the best receiver in the NFL. I also thought he was professional football’s most boring person. But out of nowhere, he was implicated as the gunman in a shooting, and America suddenly became aware of his secret thug life. Dude never showed a troublemaker streak before, but sure enough, he was a pistol-packin’ gangster.

Steve McNair was the model of athleticism, humility and leadership in the NFL. He was one of their poster boys, a real role model. But after he was killed in a murder-suicide involving his deranged mistress, we discovered he was no better than the worst.

And I think you all remember what happened to Kobe Bryant a few years back.

All of these guys were among the best in their respective sports, but all were very quiet and workmanlike. They all lived very private lives that most believed wouldn’t be worthy of a TLC reality TV show. But then they all got caught up in scandals and the truth came out: these guys are all Jerry Springer material.

When I was younger, people used to say that it’s always the quiet ones who surprise you. I never saw too much of that back in the day, but in my adulthood, I can say it’s definitely true. I guess people with secrets just grow more adept at keeping their secrets hidden, and thus know how to fool us all.

I used to like this old commercial with Kevin Garnett (I think it was Adidas, but maybe it was Gatorade) where he says in the middle of a postgame interview: “You were fooled. You thought it was all about me, but it wasn’t.” I liked the commercial because it highlighted one of the most fascinating aspects of sports and celebrity, which is the tendency of fans to see greatness in athletes as long as they perform well and smile. Neither one of those things really indicate how a person is on the inside. Yet fans, the media, and even athletes perpetuate the notion that an upstanding life in sports equals an upstanding life outside of sports.

In this case, KG had it right. We were fooled.


Currently Listening To: Pop
Duffy – "Warwick Avenue"

From the album Rockferry

Entourage

A few observations from a night out in Pasadena.


1.) The Pasadena peeps (aka, HMH crew and GEt-aLonG-gAnG) will also hereby be known as The Partystarters. We got the party started at the Langham when we invaded the dance floor and everyone else followed us. We got the party started again at Ixtapa, when we hijacked an empty dance floor and got it crackin’. Good job, team!

2.) I got mauled by three cougars on the dance floor at Langham. I felt like such a manwhore. This trio of middle-aged women came out of nowhere and … well, I don’t wanna talk about it. But I didn’t get it as bad as Mike Wall, who got groped by a pair of very aggressive cougars in Ixtapa. I swear, the women were on the prowl on Friday.

3.) I found out the next day that the Langham is one of the few places in the L.A. area to appear in the Michelin Guide. For those who are unfamiliar, the Michelin Guide ranks the absolute best hotels and restaurants in a given city by a rating of one to three stars. Of the thousands and thousands of restaurants in the LA area, only about 40 or 50 appear in the guide, The Langham being one of them. I take pride in being a culinary thrill seeker, yet I’ve only been to four or five places that are in the guide. Now I got one more.

4.) If you ever want to feel insecure about your car, drive to the front entrance of the Langham. Porsches, Ferraris, Lamborghinis, Bentleys, Maseratis, and every other luxury car you can imagine but can’t afford are lined up in the front.

5.) Russell was the surprise of the night. Who knew that dude could salsa dance like that?

6.) Judging by some of the photos that have surfaced from Friday, I’ve come to the conclusion that maybe I had more to drink than I originally thought…

7.) But then again, that’s what happens when you have an unrestricted open bar. When they told us that the bar closed at 9 p.m., we all started ordering drinks and bringing them back to the table. But instead of actually drinking what we had, we just kept going back for more until we had completely stockpiled drinks for the night. It was like watching squirrels hording acorns for the winter. You would have thought we were on the verge of prohibition the way we were stocking up.




8.) Long Island Iced Teas, dirty martinis, cosmopolitans, Midori sours, Merlots, rum and Cokes, whisky sours, Cabernet Sauvignons, gin and tonics, Appletinis. I estimate that in this picture alone there is three or four hundred dollars worth of booze on the table, and that’s just what we had at the end of the night. I haven’t seen this much liquor since the days in Northern Cali when we used to go to World Beat, Avaron and Bellagio.

9.) My new favorite song is “It’s Raining Men,” by the Weather Girls. My second favorite is “I’m So Excited,” by the Pointer Sisters. Don’t ask, just know it relates to the night. (By the way, if you’ve never seen the video for “It’s Raining Men,”, you have to check it out right now. They just don’t make videos like this anymore).

10.) Despite all the drinking, no one threw up. I thought Maggie Roq would, but she held it down. That let’s me know I’m hanging with some pros.

11.) Props to Jon for graciously hosting the after-party. Watching the Victoria’s Secret Show over pizza and vodka shots was a fitting end to the night.


Currently Listening To: House

Dragonette – I Get Around (Midnight Juggernauts Remix)