Snarky lacrosse dad, part 3.

Snarky lacrosse dad, part 2.

Snarky lacrosse dad.

 

Yachts Rock

Just missed an interview w/ David Crosby on the radio this morning. Apparently he is in town to play some sort of charity event. Among the topics covered with the DJ was the fact that Mr. Crosby owns a Yacht. In a brilliant marketing move by the radio station (KFOG), they decided to hold a contest where listeners could win free tickets. TO A CHARITY EVENT. Then to top things off, they decided that the winning caller must be able to correctly state the name of Mr. Crosby’s Yacht*.

To summarize:

>Old Hippie

>Yacht

>Charitable Giving

*This marks the first time I have ever typed the phrase “Mr. Crosby’s Yacht”**.

**Wonder what it’s called. The SS Mustache? The Good Ship FatHippy? Crosby’s Ship Not Yours? (CSNY)

And another test.

Next to last one.

The Cherokee had a tape deck

It was probably 1988 or ’89 and the Grand Cherokee in question belonged to my sister. It had a tape deck. There was nothing special about the car in and of itself. But at this particular time I was living in Wrigleyville with friends and didn’t have a car.

One day she let me borrow it, to drive into the city. Now this wasn’t a HUGE GIGANTIC DEAL or anything, but it was nice of her, and it was fun to have a car for a day. Did I mention it had a tape deck?

I remember driving it from Evanston into the city, and being bummed that the only tapes in the car were Grateful Dead (sorry Tash). But then after finally finding parking and going inside the apartment, Dave, Sean, and I decided to take a drive around the city.

I think I may have mentioned that the Cherokee had a tape deck. Which naturally meant that we had to bring … TAPES! (I tried to play a particular song on a tape the other day (I really did), and it was a giant pain so I gave up.) But on the night in question driving around Chicago in a car that had a tape deck was the greatest thing in the world.

I wish I could remember specifics about that drive. What we listened to (was it the Pixies? Was it Jon Wayne “texas funeral”? Was it Big Star?), where we went (did we go pick up Anthony? Rusty?), anything. But that night really stands out in my mind. I’m sure we drove down Lake Shore Drive which is almost always excellent. And then I think we just drove around downtown.

Hell we didn’t even mind that the car was covered in Dead stickers and smelled like patchuli (again, sorry Tash). It was just really really fun to drive around the city with good pals, listening to music.

I think Batman should record a love confession for a fellow superhero, and use The Sweet’s “love is like oxygen”. Re-titling it “love is like Aquaman”.

If you are a pee-wee football coach

If you are a pee-wee football coach do you wear an “Arrogant Bastard Ale” t-shirt to your team’s games?

No. If you are a pee-wee football coach you do NOT wear an “Arrogant Bastard Ale” t-shirt to your team’s games.

(But did I see a a pee-wee football coach wearing an “Arrogant Bastard Ale” t-shirt at his team’s game on Sunday? Yes. Yes I did. At the Oakland Coliseum, at a post-Raiders-game exhibition of sorts. And yeah, I get that the kids on the team can’t read. But still. C’mon, dude.)

Lady’s brother

I posted a question yesterday, asking which was the funnier name for a gag about Lady Gaga’s brother. Is it:

a. Grady Gaga

b. Larry Gaga

c. Gary Gaga

d. Other

Larry won the popular vote. My vote went to Grady.

Grady Gaga is a former IRS agent turned private consultant, recently hired to investigate rampamt corruption in The Bureau of Weights and Measures. Bad suit, soup-stained tie, wingtips. But then every once in a while … he’ll show up at work in a one-piece bodysuit made entirely of live baby turkeys.

Then my friend Matt cast a vote for Tom. Tom Gaga.

Tom Gaga makes toothpaste and other natural products in a shed out back. He’s most comfortable in khakis, a nicely-tucked Pendleton wool shirt, and tan work boots. But then about every other week he’ll take a seat at his workbench in an evening dress of artisan sourdough bread.

Same deal when I’m a pedestrian. I have a good sense of how and when to: pass other pedestrians; cross the street.