To all the Teaneck people:
MMG called me a couple of days ago, asking where Pioneer Pizza used to be. I told him, to the best of my recollection, that Pioneer Pizza was a few doors down to the right from the movie theater, if you are facing the theater. I wasn't sure myself.
So here's the question: to the best of your recollection, what did Cedar Lane look like in the mid 90s, when most of us were graduating from high school - and specifically, for this post, just the side of Cedar Lane containing the movie theater. (We'll do part II later.) What stores are still there? The interesting part, as I'm finding out trying to formulate my response, is that I don't remember most of the stores. I'm currently not sure what stores are still there. Here's what I remember from about 13 years ago:
Going down from Windsor, there was a gas station. After that, between there and Garrison, there was a liquor store and a pet food store in that first stretch. There was Manor Shoes and Miller Pharmacy. There was Cedar Lane Flowers and Jet Cleaners (where I worked my senior year of high school).
Between Garrison and the next cross street, aside from the theater, Pioneer Pizza was gone by the time we were in h.s., I think. There was also a store called "Flicks N Fones" which rented movies and sold phones, that was gone by the 90s also. Was there a jewelry store...? I'm remembering nothing of this stretch of stores from back in the day.
After that next cross street, there's a small parking lot. The next stretch contained a medical supplies store (J & J), a Blockbuster, and some other random stuff. After that there is a KFC and a supermarket? The gay bar, Vibrations, was gone by the time we were in h.s. also, I think. Mexicali Blues might have been there then but I don't think is there now.
The lower stretch before the Grille was empty but now contains some stuff (on the near corner of River Rd. and Cedar Lane.)
Man, I have a memory like a sieve. Somebody help me out!
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
The Class System and Muncipial Court
Aside of the obvious disadvatanges of being of a low socio-economic class in this country, we know that there are also more subtle, indirect disadvantages. Several months ago, this was illustrated this to me through a real-world example in traffic court.
I have not been known to be the best driver in the world. When I was 17 (it was a very good year), I was infamously noted as saying "Well, the speed limit is really just a guide. You don't HAVE to follow it" and probably believing it at the time. Over the years I've had a series of fender-benders, mishaps, traffic violations, 15-day license suspensions, etc... but always managed to stay on the good side of any serious consequences. Just some money lost, refiltered back through various local judicial systems of our great state, and a couple in other states.
But, Walt, you are a generally law-abiding person, right?. Why have you had so many traffic accidents? I'm becoming more and more convinced that I'm ADHD, and that is responsible for my inordinate number of traffic incidents. As recently as last night, when Walt Clyde took his dad (George Carlin) to the Sixers - Spurs game, I drove to Walt Clyde Senior's nervousness, where we almost ran out of gas on the way back, and W.C. Sr had to steer for a minute while I was taking something out of my pocket on the highway back from Philadelphia.
By the way, our seats at the game kicked ass. Here's a pic I took from my seat. It was a treat to see Duncan play, who I've always admired, but Sammy Dalembert did a great job defensively on him. Andre Miller went for 32 points in a great game for him, and the Spurs got outplayed by the Sixers.
But I digress. So I've been to traffic court several times in my life, in various municipalities. Several months ago, I got a ticket coming from Teaneck to my home in South Jersey, at about 7:30 on a Sunday morning on the Turnpike (78 mph, nobody else around - plus driving in the left lane without the intent of passing is apparently illegal - and I so got a ticket for "Disregarding a Turnpike Sign" - apparently officers can give these generic 2-pt violation tickets) and went to traffic court. I won't say the name of the town I got pulled over in, but I'll just say that it was near exit 5 and sounds something like "Shmurlington City".
Most of us probably have heard that if you get issued a ticket that carries motor vehicle points, it is worthwhile to go to traffic court to try to plea down to a violation that carries no points. The whole thing is basically a ploy to get money from you. The state has made it legal to plea down to a no-point ticket called "unsafe driving" which you can do twice in a 5-year span and get out of 2 or even 4 points, but you must pay a surcharge to the state of a couple hundred bucks. So, it's like: you can plea guilty, pay less in traffic court, but pay the insurance companies a couple of hundred dollars in surchages; or, pay more in traffic court and not have your insurance go up. It's not hard to see why the state wants you to plea down to this no-point thing. However, having to pay money at all does serve the deterrent effect, as I have not broken any traffic laws since.
But I digress again. So I went to traffic court, having researched the ticket I got, having called my insurance company and finding out the consequences, and therefore having a limit set on the amount of money I was willing to accept in ticket / fine money, so that I was equipped to deal with the prosecutor when we had our pre-conference prior to court starting.
There were approximately 100 people in municipal court that day. Of those, the majority of the people there were minorities (black and Hispanic), and most appeared to be of a lower socio-economic class. Shmurlington City is not the most affluent of areas. There were a handful of middle-class white guys there, most of them in for similar offenses to mine.
During the plea period, and when called up in front of the court, the white guys all did something similar to me - pled down out of points, took a surcharge, and paid their tickets and left. However, the majority of the non-white people there, regardless of offense - traffic or otherwise - did not strike any kind of deals. They just pled either guilty or not guilty to whatever they were charged with. In most cases, they were pleading guilty to traffic offenses that they did not even bother to discuss or plead down to. I'd overheard them talking to the prosecutors, and the weary prosecutors did not seem to fully explain or talk to some of the more ghetto people there. I believed this was because, overall, they generally were more defensive, argumentative, and not willing to discuss things as much as John Q. White Guys. Some of the Hispanic guys did not seem to really understand the procedure. Now, was any of this blatantly discriminatory or classist? Clearly not. But did the result of our court dealings turn out differently? Probably. While not denying anybody of rights, the judge, police, and prosecutors certainly weren't going out of their way to illustrate to people what all of their options were - kind of like the general difference between lying and not telling the truth.
And speaking of Hispanic guys not understanding stuff... every time the judge enters or leaves the courtroom, everybody follows the archaic procedure of "All rise as the judge enters/leaves!" and stand until he says, "You may be seated." The back row of the court contained a Hispanic guy who I'll call Javier. Javier probably doesn't know how to say "Si" in English. He was slow on the uptake of standing and seating at the appropriate times, and he was the only one. This old, bald, testosterone-filled cop made it a point to yell at the guy in front of the entire room, making a note of his name, saying that for his impending dealings with the court, this would be remembered. He demonstratively and determinedly broadcast Clancy Wiggum-like copisms such as, "This guy don't think he's got to get up with everybody else? That's ok, we'll get him." I left after my case and don't know what happened to Javier. All I know is that it seemed not only obvious that Javier was not being intentionally disrespectful, but also that he could not have been the only guy who didn't get up or sit in a timely manner - didn't this cop understand that? As if Javier was going to risk being punished just so he can stick a needle in the court by not standing and sitting at the right time. Was he just doing this "for show" to, for whatever reason, scare the rest of the court lest they had visions of being disrespectful to the judge later? So I don't know if anything came of it - but it was very insensitive. During the break, the cop could have handled it differently. And if Javier's treatment was any harsher from this incident, I don't see how it could be described as anything other than unfair and discriminatory.
And this is one small picture of what I believe happens to lower class people that make them feel like the system is against them. Less informed than middle class people, they don't seem to catch the breaks that we do.
(And I've been driving more safely for the past few months. I will keep it up... I will keep it up... I will keep it up...)
I have not been known to be the best driver in the world. When I was 17 (it was a very good year), I was infamously noted as saying "Well, the speed limit is really just a guide. You don't HAVE to follow it" and probably believing it at the time. Over the years I've had a series of fender-benders, mishaps, traffic violations, 15-day license suspensions, etc... but always managed to stay on the good side of any serious consequences. Just some money lost, refiltered back through various local judicial systems of our great state, and a couple in other states.
But, Walt, you are a generally law-abiding person, right?. Why have you had so many traffic accidents? I'm becoming more and more convinced that I'm ADHD, and that is responsible for my inordinate number of traffic incidents. As recently as last night, when Walt Clyde took his dad (George Carlin) to the Sixers - Spurs game, I drove to Walt Clyde Senior's nervousness, where we almost ran out of gas on the way back, and W.C. Sr had to steer for a minute while I was taking something out of my pocket on the highway back from Philadelphia.
By the way, our seats at the game kicked ass. Here's a pic I took from my seat. It was a treat to see Duncan play, who I've always admired, but Sammy Dalembert did a great job defensively on him. Andre Miller went for 32 points in a great game for him, and the Spurs got outplayed by the Sixers.
But I digress. So I've been to traffic court several times in my life, in various municipalities. Several months ago, I got a ticket coming from Teaneck to my home in South Jersey, at about 7:30 on a Sunday morning on the Turnpike (78 mph, nobody else around - plus driving in the left lane without the intent of passing is apparently illegal - and I so got a ticket for "Disregarding a Turnpike Sign" - apparently officers can give these generic 2-pt violation tickets) and went to traffic court. I won't say the name of the town I got pulled over in, but I'll just say that it was near exit 5 and sounds something like "Shmurlington City".
Most of us probably have heard that if you get issued a ticket that carries motor vehicle points, it is worthwhile to go to traffic court to try to plea down to a violation that carries no points. The whole thing is basically a ploy to get money from you. The state has made it legal to plea down to a no-point ticket called "unsafe driving" which you can do twice in a 5-year span and get out of 2 or even 4 points, but you must pay a surcharge to the state of a couple hundred bucks. So, it's like: you can plea guilty, pay less in traffic court, but pay the insurance companies a couple of hundred dollars in surchages; or, pay more in traffic court and not have your insurance go up. It's not hard to see why the state wants you to plea down to this no-point thing. However, having to pay money at all does serve the deterrent effect, as I have not broken any traffic laws since.
But I digress again. So I went to traffic court, having researched the ticket I got, having called my insurance company and finding out the consequences, and therefore having a limit set on the amount of money I was willing to accept in ticket / fine money, so that I was equipped to deal with the prosecutor when we had our pre-conference prior to court starting.
There were approximately 100 people in municipal court that day. Of those, the majority of the people there were minorities (black and Hispanic), and most appeared to be of a lower socio-economic class. Shmurlington City is not the most affluent of areas. There were a handful of middle-class white guys there, most of them in for similar offenses to mine.
During the plea period, and when called up in front of the court, the white guys all did something similar to me - pled down out of points, took a surcharge, and paid their tickets and left. However, the majority of the non-white people there, regardless of offense - traffic or otherwise - did not strike any kind of deals. They just pled either guilty or not guilty to whatever they were charged with. In most cases, they were pleading guilty to traffic offenses that they did not even bother to discuss or plead down to. I'd overheard them talking to the prosecutors, and the weary prosecutors did not seem to fully explain or talk to some of the more ghetto people there. I believed this was because, overall, they generally were more defensive, argumentative, and not willing to discuss things as much as John Q. White Guys. Some of the Hispanic guys did not seem to really understand the procedure. Now, was any of this blatantly discriminatory or classist? Clearly not. But did the result of our court dealings turn out differently? Probably. While not denying anybody of rights, the judge, police, and prosecutors certainly weren't going out of their way to illustrate to people what all of their options were - kind of like the general difference between lying and not telling the truth.
And speaking of Hispanic guys not understanding stuff... every time the judge enters or leaves the courtroom, everybody follows the archaic procedure of "All rise as the judge enters/leaves!" and stand until he says, "You may be seated." The back row of the court contained a Hispanic guy who I'll call Javier. Javier probably doesn't know how to say "Si" in English. He was slow on the uptake of standing and seating at the appropriate times, and he was the only one. This old, bald, testosterone-filled cop made it a point to yell at the guy in front of the entire room, making a note of his name, saying that for his impending dealings with the court, this would be remembered. He demonstratively and determinedly broadcast Clancy Wiggum-like copisms such as, "This guy don't think he's got to get up with everybody else? That's ok, we'll get him." I left after my case and don't know what happened to Javier. All I know is that it seemed not only obvious that Javier was not being intentionally disrespectful, but also that he could not have been the only guy who didn't get up or sit in a timely manner - didn't this cop understand that? As if Javier was going to risk being punished just so he can stick a needle in the court by not standing and sitting at the right time. Was he just doing this "for show" to, for whatever reason, scare the rest of the court lest they had visions of being disrespectful to the judge later? So I don't know if anything came of it - but it was very insensitive. During the break, the cop could have handled it differently. And if Javier's treatment was any harsher from this incident, I don't see how it could be described as anything other than unfair and discriminatory.
And this is one small picture of what I believe happens to lower class people that make them feel like the system is against them. Less informed than middle class people, they don't seem to catch the breaks that we do.
(And I've been driving more safely for the past few months. I will keep it up... I will keep it up... I will keep it up...)
Monday, March 10, 2008
Classic Posts: Kryptomice
a.k.a. "mailing it in..."
Seriously, though, when I had my old blog and decided to dismantle it to go anonymous and start over, I saved (via cut and paste into Word) the posts that either (a) were good or (b) took a lot of time or (c) felt like saving or whatever. This weekend the topic of mice / rats came up, and it reminded me of this story which happened to us that I posted about in April 2005.
Kryptomice:
So, it's amazing what the presence of some creatures who probably weigh 30 grams each can do to your world. Yes, they are cute in cartoons, but 6 little mice which are each not much bigger than a silver dollar each can turn your world upside down temporarily.
I'll keep the story short since things have started to return back to normal.
Last Monday (April 11th), my wife and I re-arranged our furniture and noticed some interesting little objects behind our couch. Turns out there were little mouse turds back there. We move our entertainment center, and there are mouse turds behind there.
(About three days earlier, Lisa saw a mouse dart under our stove but we both dismissed it as just a mouse that lived in the walls and got lost since we never noticed any holes, eaten food, or turds in our kitchen ever.)
We have our pet birds in our office which is adjoining to our living room. We move the bookcases in the office and find the motherload. There are mouse turds and hulled out sunflower seeds (what the birds eat) in a pile behind there. Panic and anxiety are setting in (since we haven't ever dealt with mice before). All of a sudden, a mouse jumps out from somewhere in our office and quickly scurries into our furnace closet...
(From here on, take note that the colloquialism "like a bitch" is a non-sexist, non-offensive colloquialism... kind of like how homosexuals shouldn't be offended when I say that George Bush is gay.)
Flashback: When I was 18, I lived at my mother's house and one of our pet cats brought in a (what we thought was dead) mouse and it ran around. I literally shrieked like a bitch and jumped on the coach yelling for my mother (I was 6'1", 200 pounds, my mother was 5'3" and much less) to get rid of it. Embarrassed, I never mentioned this little fit much (though my brother was sure to bring up occassionally).
Now, fast forward to the mouse in our office... I shriveled up and yelled in fear and panic again. For the second time in ten years, I shrieked like a bitch and crumbled in terror. Embarrassed again, but unable to stop myself, I was beside myself. We realized upon inspecting the room and the bird cages that the mice were actually going into the bird cages at night and stealing their food. A second mouse ran somewhere as we started to move furniture around and assess the extent of this situation.
However, the past week has slowly helped me conquer my phobia.
Disgusted and worried for our birds' health, we got the birds out of the house. We then started a war against the mice starting Tuesday night. We learned about the different types of mice traps. We determined that the mice are living (and presumably came into our apartment through) our furnace closet, which is in the hallway that leads to the office where the birds are. We cleaned obsessively. We baited all the places we saw mice shit on Tuesday night. We caught, in successive nights, 2, 1, 2, 1, and last night, no trace of mice anywhere. I think we are done with them (gauging from the amount of activity we saw in cleaned places the following night, and how it's dwindled each day this week). Last night, Saturday night, there was no activity anywhere and Friday night the last mouse was caught in the closet, with no sign of mouse activity anywhere else in the apartment.
We will not declare this situation "over" yet, but we are winding down. The birds have been staying elsewhere but will return this week at some point, once we are fairly confident that they will not have any more unwanted visitors.
I learned several things this week:
- mice are tiny but can move very fast
- like "Fear Factor", you can be de-sensitised to issues if you are forced to deal with them
- I can be a wimpy bitch about some things
- if left uncontrolled, mice droppings can cause health problems, especially in your pets. We are getting our birds checked out by the vet, just to be sure (though they seem ok)
- in cartoons, mice are cute and cuddly. In real life, they are rodents just a notch higher in the hierarchy than cockroaches. (in my opinion.)
5 COMMENTS:
Anonymous said...
I will confirm that Walt did, indeed, shriek like a horrified little girl. His shrieks, in fact, rivaled Fay Wray's in King Kong...particularly in pitch and duration. I will also confirm that this was a nightmare, and I hope that I never have to go through anything like this again. Apparently, vacuuming and cleaning every night in the bird room simply wasn't enough. Mice are crafty, nasty little buggers! Finally, I will add that despite Waltinitial shrieking, (and my concern that he would never return to our apartment again)he dealt with the trapping and freeing of the mice with great bravery! He did, indeed, live up to his heroic name. After all, every hero has his kryptonite...or in this case, kryptomice.
~ Walt's Wife
Joe said...
We had mice in my rowhouse in college. Because they breed so quickly, the only really effective way of getting rid of them is to remove all their food supplies and use traps in the meantime.
J said...
It's a shame that Cowboy (our snake) died last week. Otherwise I could have helped you...dispose of the mice.
In Walt's defense, re: shreiking like a bitch....
Even though I have no problem with my reptiles, I can't handle the rodents. Even when they come in cute boxes from the pet store. I've never been able to touch the rats/mice we fed to Cowboy.
Even when Cowboy decided he wasn't hungry and we had to care for a rat for over 3 weeks.
Even in a controlled environment where it is a pet mouse situation....one of those bastards get loose and I'm to be found standing on a chair, shreiking like a bitch.
Thank G-d I have a superhero girlfriend.
Walt said...
Update: no mice the past four days. Maybe we've gotten rid of them. For a little while, it seemed like some 80s movie where we are doing all this crazy stuff to get rid of these tiny mice.
Seriously, though, when I had my old blog and decided to dismantle it to go anonymous and start over, I saved (via cut and paste into Word) the posts that either (a) were good or (b) took a lot of time or (c) felt like saving or whatever. This weekend the topic of mice / rats came up, and it reminded me of this story which happened to us that I posted about in April 2005.
Kryptomice:
So, it's amazing what the presence of some creatures who probably weigh 30 grams each can do to your world. Yes, they are cute in cartoons, but 6 little mice which are each not much bigger than a silver dollar each can turn your world upside down temporarily.
I'll keep the story short since things have started to return back to normal.
Last Monday (April 11th), my wife and I re-arranged our furniture and noticed some interesting little objects behind our couch. Turns out there were little mouse turds back there. We move our entertainment center, and there are mouse turds behind there.
(About three days earlier, Lisa saw a mouse dart under our stove but we both dismissed it as just a mouse that lived in the walls and got lost since we never noticed any holes, eaten food, or turds in our kitchen ever.)
We have our pet birds in our office which is adjoining to our living room. We move the bookcases in the office and find the motherload. There are mouse turds and hulled out sunflower seeds (what the birds eat) in a pile behind there. Panic and anxiety are setting in (since we haven't ever dealt with mice before). All of a sudden, a mouse jumps out from somewhere in our office and quickly scurries into our furnace closet...
(From here on, take note that the colloquialism "like a bitch" is a non-sexist, non-offensive colloquialism... kind of like how homosexuals shouldn't be offended when I say that George Bush is gay.)
Flashback: When I was 18, I lived at my mother's house and one of our pet cats brought in a (what we thought was dead) mouse and it ran around. I literally shrieked like a bitch and jumped on the coach yelling for my mother (I was 6'1", 200 pounds, my mother was 5'3" and much less) to get rid of it. Embarrassed, I never mentioned this little fit much (though my brother was sure to bring up occassionally).
Now, fast forward to the mouse in our office... I shriveled up and yelled in fear and panic again. For the second time in ten years, I shrieked like a bitch and crumbled in terror. Embarrassed again, but unable to stop myself, I was beside myself. We realized upon inspecting the room and the bird cages that the mice were actually going into the bird cages at night and stealing their food. A second mouse ran somewhere as we started to move furniture around and assess the extent of this situation.
However, the past week has slowly helped me conquer my phobia.
Disgusted and worried for our birds' health, we got the birds out of the house. We then started a war against the mice starting Tuesday night. We learned about the different types of mice traps. We determined that the mice are living (and presumably came into our apartment through) our furnace closet, which is in the hallway that leads to the office where the birds are. We cleaned obsessively. We baited all the places we saw mice shit on Tuesday night. We caught, in successive nights, 2, 1, 2, 1, and last night, no trace of mice anywhere. I think we are done with them (gauging from the amount of activity we saw in cleaned places the following night, and how it's dwindled each day this week). Last night, Saturday night, there was no activity anywhere and Friday night the last mouse was caught in the closet, with no sign of mouse activity anywhere else in the apartment.
We will not declare this situation "over" yet, but we are winding down. The birds have been staying elsewhere but will return this week at some point, once we are fairly confident that they will not have any more unwanted visitors.
I learned several things this week:
- mice are tiny but can move very fast
- like "Fear Factor", you can be de-sensitised to issues if you are forced to deal with them
- I can be a wimpy bitch about some things
- if left uncontrolled, mice droppings can cause health problems, especially in your pets. We are getting our birds checked out by the vet, just to be sure (though they seem ok)
- in cartoons, mice are cute and cuddly. In real life, they are rodents just a notch higher in the hierarchy than cockroaches. (in my opinion.)
5 COMMENTS:
Anonymous said...
I will confirm that Walt did, indeed, shriek like a horrified little girl. His shrieks, in fact, rivaled Fay Wray's in King Kong...particularly in pitch and duration. I will also confirm that this was a nightmare, and I hope that I never have to go through anything like this again. Apparently, vacuuming and cleaning every night in the bird room simply wasn't enough. Mice are crafty, nasty little buggers! Finally, I will add that despite Waltinitial shrieking, (and my concern that he would never return to our apartment again)he dealt with the trapping and freeing of the mice with great bravery! He did, indeed, live up to his heroic name. After all, every hero has his kryptonite...or in this case, kryptomice.
~ Walt's Wife
Joe said...
We had mice in my rowhouse in college. Because they breed so quickly, the only really effective way of getting rid of them is to remove all their food supplies and use traps in the meantime.
J said...
It's a shame that Cowboy (our snake) died last week. Otherwise I could have helped you...dispose of the mice.
In Walt's defense, re: shreiking like a bitch....
Even though I have no problem with my reptiles, I can't handle the rodents. Even when they come in cute boxes from the pet store. I've never been able to touch the rats/mice we fed to Cowboy.
Even when Cowboy decided he wasn't hungry and we had to care for a rat for over 3 weeks.
Even in a controlled environment where it is a pet mouse situation....one of those bastards get loose and I'm to be found standing on a chair, shreiking like a bitch.
Thank G-d I have a superhero girlfriend.
Walt said...
Update: no mice the past four days. Maybe we've gotten rid of them. For a little while, it seemed like some 80s movie where we are doing all this crazy stuff to get rid of these tiny mice.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Random Notes 3/7/08
- Apparently Gnarls Barkley is coming out with a new album. Jerry's recent post about a band called Arcade Fire got me thinking about how much I loved Gnarls Barkley's St. Elsewhere album from a couple of years ago, and how much I was hoping they'd do something else. Can't wait to hear it.
- Regarding the NBA: The Lakers are freakin great nowadays. The Pau Gasol trade is the biggest steal since we visited Provincetown and Gold walked out with two Koosh balls. I think they'll win the title this year - either them or the Spurs. Conversely, the Suns giving up Shawn Marion for Shaq was one of the most poorly thought out, counterproductive, nonsensical moves I can imagine. The Suns, if they do make the playoffs, will get bounced out early. I think the Nets made out well in the Jason Kidd trade, and I don't think Dallas will be that much better, if better at all, with Kidd.
- I think that guys grow beards, in general, for one of these reasons: 1) They are insecure about the way their features look; 2) They think they look more masculine and are insecure about that; 3) They think they look more intelligent / sophisticated; 4) They are getting fat in the face and think they look thinner; 5) apathy about shaving... umm... there are probably several more. Anyway, I've grown one. Like, I haven't shaved in weeks. I have a photo I just took on my webcam but realized I can't post, due to the anonymity thing. So, I was wondering why I've grown one then. I'd love to say for me it's strictly #5 from my list, but in reality psychoanalysis would probably reveal that it's mostly #4 for me, with a some #3 and #5 thrown in. It's definitely not #1 or #2 (I'm a good lookin' nigga... income comin' in... my shit it set.) I've endured several Knocked Up-style beard jokes so far. Maybe I shouldn't shave until the Knicks fire Isiah.
- I fractured the fingertip of my right index finger playing basketball three weeks ago. Nothing was displaced / dislocated on my finger, but it's been annoying and I've had to wear this gay splint on the fingertip. It's really bizarre that the bone in the fingertip broke but the rest of the finger is intact.
- And finally, hasn't George Carlin started to resemble Walt Clyde's father, for those of you that know him?
- Regarding the NBA: The Lakers are freakin great nowadays. The Pau Gasol trade is the biggest steal since we visited Provincetown and Gold walked out with two Koosh balls. I think they'll win the title this year - either them or the Spurs. Conversely, the Suns giving up Shawn Marion for Shaq was one of the most poorly thought out, counterproductive, nonsensical moves I can imagine. The Suns, if they do make the playoffs, will get bounced out early. I think the Nets made out well in the Jason Kidd trade, and I don't think Dallas will be that much better, if better at all, with Kidd.
- I think that guys grow beards, in general, for one of these reasons: 1) They are insecure about the way their features look; 2) They think they look more masculine and are insecure about that; 3) They think they look more intelligent / sophisticated; 4) They are getting fat in the face and think they look thinner; 5) apathy about shaving... umm... there are probably several more. Anyway, I've grown one. Like, I haven't shaved in weeks. I have a photo I just took on my webcam but realized I can't post, due to the anonymity thing. So, I was wondering why I've grown one then. I'd love to say for me it's strictly #5 from my list, but in reality psychoanalysis would probably reveal that it's mostly #4 for me, with a some #3 and #5 thrown in. It's definitely not #1 or #2 (I'm a good lookin' nigga... income comin' in... my shit it set.) I've endured several Knocked Up-style beard jokes so far. Maybe I shouldn't shave until the Knicks fire Isiah.
- I fractured the fingertip of my right index finger playing basketball three weeks ago. Nothing was displaced / dislocated on my finger, but it's been annoying and I've had to wear this gay splint on the fingertip. It's really bizarre that the bone in the fingertip broke but the rest of the finger is intact.
- And finally, hasn't George Carlin started to resemble Walt Clyde's father, for those of you that know him?
Monday, February 11, 2008
Kanye West
"It's such a fine line between stupid and clever."
- David St. Hubbins, from This is Spinal Tap - if you haven't seen it yet, go rent it right now. It's brilliant and way ahead of its time.
Watched the Grammys last night. Pretty standard as far as Grammys go. There were highlights (Beyonce and Tina Turner performing together stands out, as well as "A Day in the Life") and lowlights (Why do they trot out guys like Tony Bennett who can't read the teleprompter? How long until Amy Winehouse goes Britney Spears on everybody? She needs some time to adjust to fame and get her head straight, before she's chilling with Dave Chappelle pretty soon. Her album was so good, and I hope she remains with us putting out good music. Hopefully my Janis Joplin comparison is not prophetic.)
But most of all, I was annoyed by Kanye West, and something he did specifically.
The pros of Kanye:
- His album "Graduation" is good, as good as his other albums. In his speech in winning "Album of the Year" he talked about how he's trying to keep hip-hop alive by continuing to incorporate other genres of music and push the art form, which I think he's doing. He's famously a mediocre lyricist, but his strength continues to lie in the eclectic and interesting sounds he appreciates, and continues to absorb and incorporate into his music.
The cons:
- I truly hope that his egotistical "I am the shit" attitude is put on, a persona through which he feels comfortable. He certainly has achieved a level of fame. He has carved his specific niche in the entertainment world, and I'd bet he's at the point where your average middle-American probably has heard of him and knows he's a rapper and thinks George Bush hates black people (even if they can't name any of his songs or pick him out of a lineup).
The lyrics he comes up with in 90% of his songs are the same kind of self-promotion that hip-hop is usually about. I don't listen to much hip-hop anymore. I got the Jay-Z and Kanye West albums as they came out these past couple of years, and friends lent me albums by Common, Talib Kweli, and Mos Def. That being said, at least with Kanye and Jay-Z, most of their lyrics are attempts to make their rhymes, flow, and wordplay as clever and, well, flowing as possible. I get that. I understand that each song doesn't necessarily have to be "about" something. However, it's strange when a song performed at the Grammys has the lyrics
Cause is Louis Vuitton Don night
So we gon do everything that Kan like
Heard they'd do anything for a klondike
well I'd do anything for a blonde dike
And she'll do anything for the limelight
And will do anything when the time's right
Yes, it's a fine line between clever and stupid. And Kanye crossed it when he didn't take off these sunglasses when he was done performing.
If people are offended by the lyrics because it's sexist or whatever, they don't get that he doesn't mean it (well, maybe he does, but that's not the point.) However, it's just seemed kind of stupid to perform songs like this.
I found it ok that he performed with his lit-up vest and white-plastic-framed sunglasses. *** TO BE CONTINUED ***
Continued - Friday, March 7, 2008
Been a while since I blogged. Man...
Anyway, I was saying that I was offended by Kanye's insistence on waiting until the music was on so that he could start talking about his mother's illness and then complain about not getting respect since they had the gall to keep the music on. I was disappointed that the Grammy people didn't keep the music on despite Kanye's whining. Bitch.
In retrospect, the most surprising thing though was Amy Winehouse's bizarre performance and the lack of media discussion about her.
Ah well, on to newer and better things...
Saturday, February 9, 2008
Leonard Cohen and Janis Joplin
Chances are, you've heard of Janis Joplin. Great blues singer from the 1960s, not beautiful in the classical sense, lived hard, died young, had issues with drug abuse, was probably internally troubled (seeing some tapes of interviews with her is kind of uncomfortable). You probably know at least a couple of songs also.
(Side note: This morning, I realized that Amy Winehouse is a kindred spirit of Janis Joplin. Both immensely talented, into old black music and sing in that style, both had personal and drug issues, etc... Hopefully this is not any kind of foreshadowing for Amy.)
Anyway, chances are, you probably haven't heard of Leonard Cohen. He is a singer-songwriter who put out a bunch of music in the 60s and 70s, and apparently wrote novels, poems, and continues to be an artist through this day. He will be inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on March 10, 2008 for his status among the "highest and most influential echelon of songwriters" (from the Wikipedia article). The only song of his that you've probably heard of was covered by somebody else for the Shrek soundtrack, called "Hallejuah". He was apparently also referenced in a Nirvana song, Pennyroyal Tea ("Give me a Leonard Cohen afterworld...")
I hadn't heard of him either. When I work in Teaneck in the summertime, I bring a bunch of music with me since I am sitting there typing most of the day. I was perusing my CD collection one summer to grab a bunch of stuff I hadn't heard to work with me, and I found out that we have a greatest hits CD of his. My wife had bought it sometime ago.
His music - at least, the greatest hits music - is good. It's slow and not as rockin as, say, Bob Dylan. You have to be patient and invested to appreciate the songs, but once I did, I did appreciate it.
The summer I was introducing myself to Leonard, the guys in their 40s and 50s who work at the school (including my father), heard me playing it and all said, "Wow, Leonard Cohen. I love him." To my surprise, they'd all heard of him and liked his music. I chalked this up to the fact that they all lived in NYC / NJ, of the previous generation, and were not a random sampling of society.
Anyway, one of the songs on the CD is called "Chelsea Hotel No. 2". It has a pretty melody and is a sad, kind of nostalgic song about an encounter that Leonard had with an anonymous girl. I immediately liked the melody, and the honest feeling of his lyrics. Here they are:
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
you were talking so brave and so sweet,
giving me head on the unmade bed,
while the limousines wait in the street.
Those were the reasons and that was New York,
we were running for the money and the flesh.
And that was called love for the workers in song
probably still is for those of them left.
Ah but you got away, didn't you babe,
you just turned your back on the crowd,
you got away, I never once heard you say,
I need you, I don't need you,
I need you, I don't need you
and all of that jiving around.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel
you were famous, your heart was a legend.
You told me again you preferred handsome men
but for me you would make an exception.
And clenching your fist for the ones like us
who are oppressed by the figures of beauty,
you fixed yourself, you said, "Well never mind,
we are ugly but we have the music."
Ah but you got away, didn't you babe,
you just turned your back on the crowd,
you got away, I never once heard you say,
I need you, I don't need you,
I need you, I don't need you
and all of that jiving around.
I don't mean to suggest that I loved you the best,
I can't keep track of each fallen robin.
I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel,
that's all, I don't even think of you that often.
I listened to it a few times, and enjoyed it.
Then, later I found out that the song was about a one-night stand he had with Janis Joplin. I don't think he publicized that at the time when he released it, but talked about it years later, after she'd died. Naturally, I read and re-read the lyrics and not only did the song make complete sense in that context, but it painted an even deeper picture of Janis. It's sad and interesting how he calls her a "fallen robin" in the last verse, and how he says she was "oppressed by the figures of beauty" in the middle.
Here's a link to a page about the Chelsea Hotel itself and the song.
Thursday, February 7, 2008
NBA Notes 2/7/08
- The Heat just traded Shaquille O'Neal to the Suns for Shawn Marion (and Marcus Banks). I assume that experts are divided on whether or not this was a good move. I suppose the Suns were picturing having Shaq defensively against teams in the Western Conference playoffs that have a quality big man who can score (Tim Duncan, Yao Ming) or against guys that penetrate and get to the basket often (Tony Parker, Deron Williams, and Baron Davis come to mind).
I think this will backfire on the Suns. I think people who find out just how underrated Shawn Marion is after this trade. The vaunted Suns running game will suffer tremendously without Marion. Also, he is a tremendous defensive player on the perimeter. So, what they gain with a 350 pound guy plodding around the basket they will lose with Marion's intelligence, speed and long arms patrolling the rest of the half court. And the Heat will go from suck-ass awful to maybe mediocre. Why wouldn't they trade Shaq for a young guy/guys and/or some draft picks? Weird...
Of course, I could be wrong entirely and the Suns may win it all with an incredible 4-5 combo of Stoudamire / Shaq.
- In an earlier post I discussed how my brother and I made two bets about Boston and Garnett. I think that even though Boston is still looking good, they are not the prohibitive favorite to win the East. If I had to bet money on somebody now it would be Detroit. Nevertheless, Garnett may win the MVP and/or be on the first-team all NBA.
- The Knicks are making the terrible mistake of playing like a mediocre team. For management / ownership who want to believe that the team will be ok, the best thing would be for them to be playing like the Heat.
- I'm glad that Kidd may be on his way out of NJ, both for his sake and for the team's sake. They need to drop off Vince Carter in the middle of the swamp in the Meadowlands ("I was doing the bank job up there in Secaucus...")..., move to Brooklyn, and start over.
-*** UPDATE: Guess I'm not following the Knicks close enough. Just looked at the standings and they've dropped 7 straight. Still, they're better than the Heat.
I think this will backfire on the Suns. I think people who find out just how underrated Shawn Marion is after this trade. The vaunted Suns running game will suffer tremendously without Marion. Also, he is a tremendous defensive player on the perimeter. So, what they gain with a 350 pound guy plodding around the basket they will lose with Marion's intelligence, speed and long arms patrolling the rest of the half court. And the Heat will go from suck-ass awful to maybe mediocre. Why wouldn't they trade Shaq for a young guy/guys and/or some draft picks? Weird...
Of course, I could be wrong entirely and the Suns may win it all with an incredible 4-5 combo of Stoudamire / Shaq.
- In an earlier post I discussed how my brother and I made two bets about Boston and Garnett. I think that even though Boston is still looking good, they are not the prohibitive favorite to win the East. If I had to bet money on somebody now it would be Detroit. Nevertheless, Garnett may win the MVP and/or be on the first-team all NBA.
- The Knicks are making the terrible mistake of playing like a mediocre team. For management / ownership who want to believe that the team will be ok, the best thing would be for them to be playing like the Heat.
- I'm glad that Kidd may be on his way out of NJ, both for his sake and for the team's sake. They need to drop off Vince Carter in the middle of the swamp in the Meadowlands ("I was doing the bank job up there in Secaucus...")..., move to Brooklyn, and start over.
-*** UPDATE: Guess I'm not following the Knicks close enough. Just looked at the standings and they've dropped 7 straight. Still, they're better than the Heat.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Super Bowl 2008 - Clyde's Take
I have moved away from North Jersey, slowly but surely, since I've graduated from college in 1999. Every move I've made along the way has been for practical reasons. And, as is the case with most situations in life, the series of moves has had its pros and cons. (Pros: cheaper cost of living, less traffic, etc... Cons: distance from friends / family / things that are familiar to me, etc...)
One of the less substantial changes of this succession of moves has been in what sports teams one finds themselves following. Living about 12 miles from Philadelphia, I find myself in the heart of Eagles country. I have blogged about this before when I was not using an alias, but nothing in North Jersey compares to the fanatic passion that people down here have about the "Birds"... maybe in Green Bay where the Pack is the only substantial game in town it is similar. I just remember that last spring, people would forget that the Phillies had a very good team and were fighting for the playoffs anytime T.O. or Donovan's name would come up.
Growing up, I was always a die-hard Knicks fan (as is LJT of Where's Luke fame) and a casual fan of other NY teams. At different times, I watched the Yankees and Giants with some degree of interest, and for whatever reason never got into the Nets, but nothing matched my fanaticism of the Knicks. I did always want to know how the Giants were doing. This season, I would watch most of the Eagles games on Sundays, but would follow the Giants games with a keen interest as well. My brother and my grandfather (who both live within 15 minutes or so of Giants stadium) are both pretty steady Giants fans. And, as a result, as this season unfolded I found myself rooting for the Giants (a) making it into the playoffs, and then (b) having some success in the playoffs. If one were to ask me "If the Giants play the Eagles, who do you want to win?" my answer would be that it's a win-win (or lose-lose, depending on if you're a half-empty or half-full kind of person) situation, as I do genuinely wish success for both teams.
As the Giants started this run of great play, starting towards the end of the regular season and continuing through the playoffs, I found myself more emotionally invested with each passing week with them. I was bummed out when Shockey was knocked out. I called Tiki Barber a bitch as well. And I was psyched with each momentum-building playoff win. I discussed the games with my grandfather each week, as he looks forward to each game and doesn't miss them. When the playoffs started, I genuinely said to him, "You know, there's no reason why the Giants could make a run to the Super Bowl". Ever the optimist, he said, "Yeah, they could. It will be tough, but they could." I thought about it and replied, "No, seriously... I don't see why they're not as good as Green Bay or Dallas, or better." With each passing week he would say to me, "You know, you're the only guy who really thought that they would make it all the way to the Super Bowl that I've talked to." And now in retrospect, I realize that I genuinely have been thinking that they would do it, in my heart. So once the Super Bowl matchups were set, I said to my grandfather, "You know, I really think the Super Bowl will be a good game. I think the Giants really could take it." He replied similarly to his response to my comments about their playoff runs, something like, "Yeah, you're right, they could."
I was wondering if my newly-found emotional interest in the Giants' success was a product of being a North Jersey guy at heart, or if it was more that I knew that not only my brother and grandfather watching passionately each week, but also my buddies from Teaneck, such as the boys at Where's Luke, MMG, etc..., were donning their Giants jerseys and gathering each Sunday to root for the G-Men throughout the season, whether things were going well or not
Come Super Bowl Sunday, I traveled the almost-2 hours to North Jersey to go to Manhattan and watch the game with these die-hard fans. About 20 of us were packed into Side Bar's NYC apartment. Beer and food were consumed and cards were played. But finally, the game started...
The camaraderie of the guys made the whole event one that I will never forget. The true Giants fans did not begrudge those of us who were more casual football fans (like me), or even the Jets fans in the room. Everybody was there on that Sunday with the same spirit and passion, though the die-hards must have felt it much more deeply than myself (hard to imagine, as I was also yelling and jumping around with each crucial down, and demonstratively yelling at Tom Brady every time he was knocked down!)
The fourth quarter was something that an over-the-top Hollywood movie would be jealous of. The tug-of-war which lasted through three quarters seemed to end when Brady finally broke through and dramatically did what he has done all season, leading the Patriots to a fluid, solid drive and the go-ahead touchdown with under 3 minutes left in the game. Then, I don't need to go into hyperbole to describe the Giants final winning drive...
The moment I'll remember most about the fourth quarter was when we all collectively seemed to realize that Plaxico was wide open and Eli was about to loft it up for him. Without looking around the room, I knew that everybody was ecstatically holding their breath, praying inside for Plaxico to not drop it and for there to be no flags on the play. My brother said that he saw my face from across the room as Eli threw it and the look on my face was priceless - sheer ecstasy, even before Plaxico caught it. The celebration that followed the catch was hugging, jumping, yelling, etc... all the way through the next kickoff.
The following morning (aside from being tired from the 2-hour ride home, and about 4 hours of sleep) at work the buzz of the dramatic fourth quarter still stayed with me. Even despite the debacle of five of us being stuck in the elevator throughout halftime, it was an unbelievable memorable experience.
It would be easy for true, hardcore Giants fans to begrudge the casual fans (like myself) and resent them for not staying along on the ride all season and then celebrating with them for the Giants victory, but they did not seem to do so. I would like to thank them (especially Side Bar) for allowing me to share the joy with them in this awesome experience, one that I will never forget.
Pictures forthcoming, when I get home... (and only if they came out ok - the ones I took during the postgame celebrating I was distracted from as champagne was hitting me from across the room!)
One of the less substantial changes of this succession of moves has been in what sports teams one finds themselves following. Living about 12 miles from Philadelphia, I find myself in the heart of Eagles country. I have blogged about this before when I was not using an alias, but nothing in North Jersey compares to the fanatic passion that people down here have about the "Birds"... maybe in Green Bay where the Pack is the only substantial game in town it is similar. I just remember that last spring, people would forget that the Phillies had a very good team and were fighting for the playoffs anytime T.O. or Donovan's name would come up.
Growing up, I was always a die-hard Knicks fan (as is LJT of Where's Luke fame) and a casual fan of other NY teams. At different times, I watched the Yankees and Giants with some degree of interest, and for whatever reason never got into the Nets, but nothing matched my fanaticism of the Knicks. I did always want to know how the Giants were doing. This season, I would watch most of the Eagles games on Sundays, but would follow the Giants games with a keen interest as well. My brother and my grandfather (who both live within 15 minutes or so of Giants stadium) are both pretty steady Giants fans. And, as a result, as this season unfolded I found myself rooting for the Giants (a) making it into the playoffs, and then (b) having some success in the playoffs. If one were to ask me "If the Giants play the Eagles, who do you want to win?" my answer would be that it's a win-win (or lose-lose, depending on if you're a half-empty or half-full kind of person) situation, as I do genuinely wish success for both teams.
As the Giants started this run of great play, starting towards the end of the regular season and continuing through the playoffs, I found myself more emotionally invested with each passing week with them. I was bummed out when Shockey was knocked out. I called Tiki Barber a bitch as well. And I was psyched with each momentum-building playoff win. I discussed the games with my grandfather each week, as he looks forward to each game and doesn't miss them. When the playoffs started, I genuinely said to him, "You know, there's no reason why the Giants could make a run to the Super Bowl". Ever the optimist, he said, "Yeah, they could. It will be tough, but they could." I thought about it and replied, "No, seriously... I don't see why they're not as good as Green Bay or Dallas, or better." With each passing week he would say to me, "You know, you're the only guy who really thought that they would make it all the way to the Super Bowl that I've talked to." And now in retrospect, I realize that I genuinely have been thinking that they would do it, in my heart. So once the Super Bowl matchups were set, I said to my grandfather, "You know, I really think the Super Bowl will be a good game. I think the Giants really could take it." He replied similarly to his response to my comments about their playoff runs, something like, "Yeah, you're right, they could."
I was wondering if my newly-found emotional interest in the Giants' success was a product of being a North Jersey guy at heart, or if it was more that I knew that not only my brother and grandfather watching passionately each week, but also my buddies from Teaneck, such as the boys at Where's Luke, MMG, etc..., were donning their Giants jerseys and gathering each Sunday to root for the G-Men throughout the season, whether things were going well or not
Come Super Bowl Sunday, I traveled the almost-2 hours to North Jersey to go to Manhattan and watch the game with these die-hard fans. About 20 of us were packed into Side Bar's NYC apartment. Beer and food were consumed and cards were played. But finally, the game started...
The camaraderie of the guys made the whole event one that I will never forget. The true Giants fans did not begrudge those of us who were more casual football fans (like me), or even the Jets fans in the room. Everybody was there on that Sunday with the same spirit and passion, though the die-hards must have felt it much more deeply than myself (hard to imagine, as I was also yelling and jumping around with each crucial down, and demonstratively yelling at Tom Brady every time he was knocked down!)
The fourth quarter was something that an over-the-top Hollywood movie would be jealous of. The tug-of-war which lasted through three quarters seemed to end when Brady finally broke through and dramatically did what he has done all season, leading the Patriots to a fluid, solid drive and the go-ahead touchdown with under 3 minutes left in the game. Then, I don't need to go into hyperbole to describe the Giants final winning drive...
The moment I'll remember most about the fourth quarter was when we all collectively seemed to realize that Plaxico was wide open and Eli was about to loft it up for him. Without looking around the room, I knew that everybody was ecstatically holding their breath, praying inside for Plaxico to not drop it and for there to be no flags on the play. My brother said that he saw my face from across the room as Eli threw it and the look on my face was priceless - sheer ecstasy, even before Plaxico caught it. The celebration that followed the catch was hugging, jumping, yelling, etc... all the way through the next kickoff.
The following morning (aside from being tired from the 2-hour ride home, and about 4 hours of sleep) at work the buzz of the dramatic fourth quarter still stayed with me. Even despite the debacle of five of us being stuck in the elevator throughout halftime, it was an unbelievable memorable experience.
It would be easy for true, hardcore Giants fans to begrudge the casual fans (like myself) and resent them for not staying along on the ride all season and then celebrating with them for the Giants victory, but they did not seem to do so. I would like to thank them (especially Side Bar) for allowing me to share the joy with them in this awesome experience, one that I will never forget.
Pictures forthcoming, when I get home... (and only if they came out ok - the ones I took during the postgame celebrating I was distracted from as champagne was hitting me from across the room!)
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Solarquest
So my wife, brother and I have been rocking out Solarquest recently.
What is Solarquest, you ask? Well, read here. It's basically Monopoly in outer space, with the properties being moons of the nine planets of the solar system, or the planets themselves (although, this may been rendered slighly obsolete recently, as apparently Pluto is no longer a planet.)
In any case, it is a fun game and definitely worth playing if you have never done so. It is much more complicated than Monopoly, though you have the freedom to "wheel and deal" the way you do with Monopoly, but with more options.
Here are Walt Clyde's mother and brother thinking of their next move in our most recent game.
What is Solarquest, you ask? Well, read here. It's basically Monopoly in outer space, with the properties being moons of the nine planets of the solar system, or the planets themselves (although, this may been rendered slighly obsolete recently, as apparently Pluto is no longer a planet.)
In any case, it is a fun game and definitely worth playing if you have never done so. It is much more complicated than Monopoly, though you have the freedom to "wheel and deal" the way you do with Monopoly, but with more options.
Here are Walt Clyde's mother and brother thinking of their next move in our most recent game.
New Year's Eve in Atlantic City
Yesterday was New Year's Eve. Happy 2008, everybody!
So my wife and I went to Atlantic City to see Elvis Costello perform at the House of Blues. He put on a good show, as we knew he would.
I looked into getting a hotel room in Atlantic City. Holy crap. Not only was it nearly impossible to get a room, but the rooms that were available were ridiculously overpriced. Supply and demand, I suppose. Most rooms at casinos ranged from $600/$700 up to almost $1000 for one night. Even the cheap places that are not even on the island, like roadside motels that are more suitable for, say, bringing a prostitute to, were in the $200 - $300 range for one night. It was amazing.
Incase you haven't been there in a while, Atlantic City has really changed its image. It has become upscale. Despite the Tropicana probably going under soon, it is doing very well with its new series of upscale shops and restaurants. I have walked on "The Walk" - smart move, by the way, by the casinos - fellas, you can gamble and your wife can, ahhh..., keep herself busy with the shops! It gets even ritzier. The clubs in Atlantic City have become a huge draw for the single crowd. Most of the casinos have posh, ultra-hip night clubs these days.
My brother, after seeing the outside look like this, and the inside of the Tropicana look like this after being away for some time, said something like, "I'm kind of sad. Whatever happened to the run-down, seedy town I remember? It's like when Vinny O's was renovated."
My wife and I went in for New Years Eve two years ago with no specific agenda, and people were dressed to the nines. It really was something. We strolled from casino to casino, having drinks and meeting random people, as is pretty common when everybody has had a few drinks.
We learned to not wait until too late in the evening to park at a casino parking deck, because when you leave at 2 in the morning you will wait for an hour or two just to get your car out of the parking deck. We did better this year and found a public lot on the street.
We split up. I played cards while she shopped, we had dinner together, and eventually saw Elvis.
I wasn't the only Teaneck clown in the casinos. Amazingly, this was early in the evening and both of the boys did well.
To summarize: If you're looking for a good time next New Years, you can do a lot worse than Atlantic City.
So my wife and I went to Atlantic City to see Elvis Costello perform at the House of Blues. He put on a good show, as we knew he would.
I looked into getting a hotel room in Atlantic City. Holy crap. Not only was it nearly impossible to get a room, but the rooms that were available were ridiculously overpriced. Supply and demand, I suppose. Most rooms at casinos ranged from $600/$700 up to almost $1000 for one night. Even the cheap places that are not even on the island, like roadside motels that are more suitable for, say, bringing a prostitute to, were in the $200 - $300 range for one night. It was amazing.
Incase you haven't been there in a while, Atlantic City has really changed its image. It has become upscale. Despite the Tropicana probably going under soon, it is doing very well with its new series of upscale shops and restaurants. I have walked on "The Walk" - smart move, by the way, by the casinos - fellas, you can gamble and your wife can, ahhh..., keep herself busy with the shops! It gets even ritzier. The clubs in Atlantic City have become a huge draw for the single crowd. Most of the casinos have posh, ultra-hip night clubs these days.
My brother, after seeing the outside look like this, and the inside of the Tropicana look like this after being away for some time, said something like, "I'm kind of sad. Whatever happened to the run-down, seedy town I remember? It's like when Vinny O's was renovated."
My wife and I went in for New Years Eve two years ago with no specific agenda, and people were dressed to the nines. It really was something. We strolled from casino to casino, having drinks and meeting random people, as is pretty common when everybody has had a few drinks.
We learned to not wait until too late in the evening to park at a casino parking deck, because when you leave at 2 in the morning you will wait for an hour or two just to get your car out of the parking deck. We did better this year and found a public lot on the street.
We split up. I played cards while she shopped, we had dinner together, and eventually saw Elvis.
I wasn't the only Teaneck clown in the casinos. Amazingly, this was early in the evening and both of the boys did well.
To summarize: If you're looking for a good time next New Years, you can do a lot worse than Atlantic City.
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