The rantings of a man struggling not to be bitter.

2001-12-04T13:52:00.000-08:00

Celebrity Spotting in the Big Apple

The first time I went to the city of New York I saw a celebrity. I was also asked by some weird guy to go home with him but that's besides the point, the fact is I met and said hello to the great MTV News uh..journalist Kurt Loder. It was actually quite anti-climactic but it proved to me that (although not as exciting now) there are celebrities all ovr the island of Manhattan. Just keep your head up and you'll see them.
Like this past Saturday, my girlfriend and I were on the 2 Train going uptown to Rockefeller Center area to see among others the famed Christmas tree for I had never even seen it before. I looked down the train and saw the Academy Award nominated actress (for the Piano with Harvey Keitel) Anna Paquin. Once again not as exciting at the moment as it is on Monday when you get back to school or work and tell the tale, but pretty cool non the less. I thought that said alot about her, whether or not it actually does, I mean shes gotta have a bank account that could afford her Lincoln Town Car delivery in the whole friggin tri-state area but she was riding the train. And I guess that's why she stays in the Big Apple riding the subway, becasue she along with the eight million others know that no other city or lifestyle compares to that of NYC.
Anyway back to the celebrity spottings. The one and only Robert DeNiro was the one I saw before Paquin. My girlfriend and I were leaving Bubi's restaurant in Tribecca and there standing on Hudson Street was Bobby D. himself! We slowly sauntered past him as we called her mom and my friend Paul to tell them who we were standing less than ten feet from. But I didn't go up to him because not only did I have nothing to say for I was amazed at the icon a few armlengths away from me, but I wouldn't wanna be bothered if I was Bobby D. so in other words I chickened out.
A few months ago before that I saw the multi-talented Mos Def in Brooklyn Heights. Although primarily an underground emcee and a hip-hop lyricist like no other, he's also had a fairly legitmate and respectable acting career which he is still pursuing ( and he plays more than just gangstas) besides having been romantically linked to the delictably bootylicous destiny's child herself, Beyonce Knowles. Mos starred in Carmen the hip-hop adapted faous play that starred Knowles, he also was in an episode of NYPD Blue, and he was on the shot-lived series Cosby Mysteries with non-other than Bill Cosby. I also refrained from saying anything to Mos even though he is myfavorite emcee and I've listened to him for sometime, but he was with his kid in his hometown and I didn't want to be the herby fan bothering a guy a really respect, but who else?
'I saw Dave Grohl from the Foo Fihters who I id shake hands with, but I was younger and drunk. I saw the most hilarious member of HBO's old series Kid's in The Hall, Scott Thompson. He must have just left Conan O'Brien's studio because it was arounnd 4 pm when they shoot it and he had the same outfit that he had on when w saw him. I saw Penn from the not-exactly-funny anymore Penn and Teller, Terri Garr-the mom from the movie Mr. Mom among other things. Bobby Flay's sidekick from his show on the Food Network, Guardian Angel and radio talk show host Curtis Sliwa...wow!
That's most of em'...and although who cares anyway it's better than seeing for example my old catechism teacher or a high school friend's mom grilling me on what I'm doing with my life. See back home in relatively small town America (in theory ) everyone knows everything about you and your family---NO SECRETS. But in the Big Apple, the only people you can know everything about is the celebrities we see on TV, radio, and in the theaters for everyday.

2001-11-29T13:33:00.000-08:00

I"M FINALLY ENJOYING DOING MY BLOG!!!!!!!!!

2001-11-29T10:02:00.000-08:00

Stoner Movies to Get... and Watch

I think Willie Nelson said it best as he spoke to Dave Chapelle in the film Half-Baked about what smoking pot and getting high used to be about, before all the tiny-boppers took over the craze. "Willie simply explained that "back in my day you didn't get high 'cause it was the thing to do, you got high casue it got you high, ya' know?"
I know what Willie's talking about, and I must say that in the category of best stoner flick cameo appearance it's between the red-headed stanger and Snoop in his role as the mooching pot head. both characters came from the weeded-out classic that is Half-Baked. But aside fom the Chapelle/Brewer ode to all the friendly good-naturd ganja lovers out there what other stoner movies are actually worth checking out?
Home Grown, another marijuana-fueld tale that has everyone from Jon Bon Jovi to Hank Azaria to Jamie Lee Curtis starring is well worth renting. About the Northern Califormia marijuana growing industrythe film centers around a group of growers that caught up in the Feds, the local cops who are in on the crop, other growing families, and the Italian mob. Funny, fast-moving, and a bunch of scenes hasve these funny fake-ass looking weed plants.
Another all-around-classic movie is Bong Water starring Luke Wilson, Janeane Garafalo, and Half-of Tenacious D, Jack Black. It revolves aroud a bunch of stoners, alot of funny scenes and actually some realistic looking simulated buds, technology an be impressive.
Up in Smoke obviouly the best Cheech and Chong film to date, highlight scene is when CHong and some girl snort a line of ajax. Hopeully these guys make acomeback. But Cheech is too much of a "real" actor to ruin his rep with drug humor...(how's Nash Bridges going Cheech you sell-out?!)
There are some other good pot-influenced flicks. All the Kevin Smith movies have references to the kind plant, and the two comic book legens known as Jay and Silent Bob (otherwise known as Bluntman and Chronic in their comic book series) smoke the snoochie boochies to give themselves superhuman power....Redman and Method Man have a new flick coming out How High which is pretty much a similar angle. Red and Meth get this awesome weed and it makes them so smart they get into Harvard, not Oscar material necessarily but I'm sure entertaining from some of us.
Because when it starts to get cold the only thing you need to make it a fun Saturday night is a little snoochy and one or two of these movies.

2001-11-28T08:33:00.000-08:00

You Should Know When Someone Deosn't Like YOu

You know when someone doesn't like you or even hates you. It isn't necessarily a difficult thing to decipher because usually that person will do something or several things to remind you that they in fact do not care for you. These ways that people express themselves are rarely overt and in your face, more often they are subtle techniques used to remind you how little that person cares for you.
A way that these people will accomplish this is to not necessarily say anything mean to the person they don't like, or do anything that can trace back their true felings to you (if you are that person). Rather most people will use certain low-key passive aggresive behaviors that can do all the dirty work for them. For example when this unliked person says something, they won't acknowledge what they say, or they will nod their head and then turn to someone else to get their take on things. Then they'll really interact with that next person so that the other wonders why their felings aren't that important. They're always very short with that person, but with everyone else they'll be very open, funny and perceptive to them and the comments they make. Lets see, they also make it a point not to make eye contact with the person that they don't care for, that's a sure fire way to let someone know without incriminating them how little they like you. I believe it was the great Steven Segal who said in one of his crappy movies that "it's all in the eyes." And you know what, he was right. So the next time you think that someone doesn't like you, have some faith in your perception, they probably don't. Because just like its easier to smile then frown (which has been medically proven by the way) it's much harder to practice these types of behaviors I referred to then it is to be nice.

2001-11-27T12:47:00.000-08:00

Chris Garvey
Ghost’s so Large He’s Got Bulletproof Wallets

The new album from Ghostface Killah follows the same approach that he, RZA, and the rest of the Wu brethren have always followed when creating a full-length work of straight Ghost. That technique used is, an off-the hook collage of sounds, styles, beats, flows, and references from the one and only Staten Island capo.
From his first joint, Ironman, to his sophomore classic, Supreme Clientele, to the new work, Bulletproof Wallets, Ghost has demonstrated that he’s not afraid to try, say, do, or wear anything. From making Clark Wallabies the hip-hop fashion staple that they are, to likening the Wu’s style to a fruit salad and his own as a blueberry. Don’t ask that’s just Ghost.
But he takes these oddities to new lengths, for starters the disc’s tracks play randomly, and the titles are obviously labeled wrong as the order always changes. He also did this on a portion of Supreme Clientele, and it’s unfortunate because it’s very annoying. Second, the album boasts a cameo from Slick Rick and the RZA on, “The Sun,” but there’s no Slick Rick or RZA on any track on my copy of Bulletproof Wallets,” a little confusing and disappointing.
But it’s been rumored that, “The Sun” was dropped from the album along with another track, “Good Times” for lack of sample clearances. Third disappointing factor, one of the most anticipated tracks in which Ghost disses Jay-Z, “The Watch” was pulled from Bulletproof to allegedly be placed on DJ Clue’s next album.
Aside from that, and the fact that Supreme Clientele was such a tight record, Bulletproof is still a strong album, as long as you’re a Ghost fan. His single, “Never be the Same Again” has Ghost showing some more of his sensitive side with Raekwon accompanying on a verse, and Bad Boy crooner Carl Thomas laying down a smooth hook. He spits some more on the topic of love on “Love Session” with Ruff Endz, but that in my opinion is not Ghost’s forte. It’s getting the party a little grimy and getting the Crown Royal pouring.
Bumpin tracks like “Walking Through the Darkness,” with Wu R&B songstress, Takitha is one of the tightest on the album. Another RZA-produced number, “Flowers” with Method Man, Rae, and Wu upstart, Superb is just sick. Another two tracks worthy of Ghost are The Alchemist-produced, “The Forest,” and “The Juks.” ‘The Forest” has Ghost rhyming about a fairy tale land filled with cartoon characters like Scrooge McDuck, and Mr. Magoo, it’ll make you laugh. “The Juks,” has two of Ghost’s newest lyrical apprentices, Trife and Superb showcasing their above-below-average styles over a rock-the-bells beat.
Ghost’s style is not for everyone, but that’s all right, that’s what makes him tight. He’s no Jay-Z; he flips himself up so not to be a formulaic rapper. No one could ever call Ghost a clone emcee because no one is coming at the game the way he is. But he still seems hungry for more recognition, as in the intro he sadly explains to Rae how they (The Wu) still aren’t getting the respect he feels they deserve. I say screw the over-commercial appreciation, you got it Ghost, and you got love from heads who are out there searching for something new.

2001-11-27T12:18:00.000-08:00

Curb Your Enthusiasm

If you've seen all the Seinfeld episodes spun on syndication and you still are in dire need of George Costanza, there’s a new show that’s chock full of Costanza situations. Curb Your Enthusiasm, the brainchild of Seinfeld executive producer, Larry David is now in it’s second season on the only television network worth paying for, HBO.
Larry David, the “real-life” person that the George Costanza character was based on now has his own show where he can showcase his inappropriate behaviors weekly. The bald, dumpy, selfish liar who always made himself look terrible now gets himself into numerous awkward situations every Sunday night at ten. And unlike on NBC, he’s doing so under the guardian of un-censorship, HBO. So as “Curb” guest star and Seinfeld veteran Julia Louise Dreyfus put it, “you can say fuck!”
In Curb Your Enthusiasm Larry David plays himself; a cynical, miserable millionaire trying to find himself or actually trying not to find himself after writing and co-producing the most successful, and hilarious sitcom of all time, Seinfeld. David, now lamping in a mansion that would make even P.Diddy jealous has days and weeks that consist of arguing with re-occurring friend and character Richard Lewis, bickering with Jason “Costanza” Alexander, and going out to lunch with Rob Reiner.
David gets himself into beef with angry wrestlers, shoe-store salesman, and Richard Lewis’s girlfriend even, but he does so in a way that you can’t help but crack up. and although the show doesn’t have the punchline emphasis that some fans may expect from other sitcoms, Curb Your Enthusiasm is shot and produced in an improvised way with the gist of each scene and character lightly discussed, but with the logistics and dialogue never even written down. This approach to the cliched sitcom format gives those in need of “real” laughs a breath of fresh air as canned laughter, and contrived scenes give way to revolutionary, hilarious, and comedy that makes you ask yourself whether, “is this for real or not?”

2001-11-15T10:25:00.000-08:00

The Perils of a Reluctant Blue-Collar Worker
Nothing drains the mind of ambition, and motivation more than a mindless job does. Having worked many of these in my life, and having also worked hard at regaining some missing motivato by seeking an education, I understand what it's like, and that it can be a difficult thing to reverse. I've seen good friends sink into the abyss of maintenance jobs where reading, thinking, and caring about more than just beer money is replaced with drug abuse, lame sports bars, and excessive drinkin.
It's a simple life with a few perks, lack of responsibility, and free evenings to spend playing video games being the two biggest. It's easy for a miserable laborer or worker to lose focus, and to forget about any goals or dreams that they once had. The weekend is the only goal in the mind of most carpenters, house painters, and other workers whose days consist of listening to other unintelligent men recycle old stories that usually began at some bar and end with some horrific, and often times sloppy sexual experience.
Although unfortunately I've been there, I now consider myself fortunate to be done with those days, at least on a full-time basis. I am in some technical sense, a house painter. For the paintbrush, puddy, scrubby clothes, and detrimental fumes were the only aspect of my pathetic day for a few years while I "found myself." Yet my stint as a full-time house painter working ten hours a day (is now replaced with no more than fifteen hours a week) didn't so much help me find myself as it helped me find what I didn't want to do with myself, and what I hated about life. Some of these things being the banality, boredom, and redundance of a simple "Joe" going through the motions Monday through Friday in order to pay rent, car loan, and vices.
After two years of increasing depression, angst, and frustration I re-enrolled myself back in school where I belonged in the first place. After a few years of concentrated classes where I've been making up for lost time, I now get to see graduation within reach, and hopefully fame and fortune. I look back on those days and I remind myself that I'm happy with where I am. I'm now satisfied, at least a little at how my late teens and early twenties panned out. I'm not the bitter blue-collar kid who gets jealous when his high school buddies brag about the decadent fun that they have at college. I'm no longer the guy whose days consist of not thinking, not learning, and experienceing nothing that broadens the mind. For that I am happy, and I'm glad that I learned this lesson firsthand because I feel that I've almost completed the full circle from being another underachieving house painter into what I'm not yet exactly sure.

2001-11-12T13:48:00.000-08:00

Chris Garvey
11-12-01

The Voice of Bob Dylan

The voice of Robert Zimmerman, other wise known as Bob Dylan isn’t the type that conventionally soothes the ears of his listeners. His vocal prowess doesn’t evoke the sexual and romantic vibes of a Marvin Gaye or Barry White. Nor are his songs played at the on start of tie-breaking hockey overtimes. Rather Dylan and his scratchy guttural vocals supply those who listen with much more.
His small-town Minnesota upbringing somehow transcends through the eyes of many different people, and numerous situations seemingly unknown to him. Yet these stories, perceptions, and insights into the injustices, and broken hearts of the world have always been done in a way that any human with passion and a conscious can relate to.
His music isn’t just the backdrop to the sixties and the counterculture movement. And it doesn’t just solely belong to that generation of young people who are now middle-aged and much less radical than they once were. Dylan’s music belongs to every romantic, every radical, every loner, outsider, and confused boy, girl, man or woman who has battled with the hypocrisies and complexities of the world. Dylan was the first to bridge the activist expressionism of the beatnik movement with the labor-fueled folk movements spawned by artists like Woody Guthrie. He brought the voice of the coffee shops and the dusty midwestern roads to the Time magazine and to the masses, and that along with his exceptional level of musicianship is what Dylan will always be remembered for.
“It’ll soon shake your windows and rattle your walls,” Dylan professed, and the times definitely did change. That keen insight, and ability to express to his listeners things most are unable to articulate is what solidifies Dylan as somewhat of a mystic. The list of songs penned by the man is what solidifies him as an artist who cannot lose his touch. His talents seem almost pre-ordained, his lyrics almost channeled through some all-knowing spirit. But in all likelihood they are not, they come from Dylan himself, and by the looks of it, he and they (the lyrics) have not and will not dry up anytime soon.
Just this last year Dylan released his latest journal of audio emotions entitled, Love and Theft. The relevance, and quality of this effort matching previous classic works like Blonde on Blonde, and Highway 61 Revisited. It’s Dylan’s reluctance to stay stagnant, and safe that makes him still a genuine poet after all these years. And his themes have not changed much over his almost forty-year career of Dylan.
“You’re gonna make me lonesome when you go.” Dylan confessed almost thirty years ago, and he still wears his heart on his coat strings with new songs like “Bye and Bye,” and Cry A While.” Dylan’s propensity for matters of the heart, and relationships gone sour is what makes his music so personal, yet so universal. Where most matured artists have lost every, and any ounce of genuine musicianship, Dylan keeps strumming on his old guitar and blowing often times quite sloppily into his harmonica. It’s almost as if he knows, unlike most other artists his age, that the times are still a’ changing. And that to turn your back, and sing old standbys would be a smack in the face to all those fans still listening to Dylan’s every word.

2001-10-30T10:52:00.000-08:00

Chris Garvey

Love’s a Bitch

There are many people who refuse to watch foreign films because they hate to read the subtitles. If you are one of these lazy viewers then you should change fast because the Amores Perros (Love’s a Bitch) is a film that should not be ignored. This Mexican film which came out in 2000 and is now on video, and is being renowned by critics as a classic film worth supporting.
Amores Perros weaves three stories that deal with love, greed, revenge, lust, and even more so, dogs. Each character seems to be represented in a way by their canine friends as they face what seems like an endless stream of bad luck. The first story entitled; “Octavio y Ramiro” shows the power struggle between two brothers living in a small apartment in a Mexico City barrio. Surviving in cramped quarters with their mother, Octavio the younger brother played by Gael Garcia Bernal, and older brother, Ramiro played by Marco Perez, find themselves in a love triangle over Ramiro’s wife, played by Vanessa Bauche-she's hot!
With this going on, their Rottweiller, Cofi gets caught up (with the help of Octavio) in dog fighting. After winning fifteen fights and raising enough money to steal Susana away from his brother, Octavio’s luck begins to fade away. It’s at this point that he comes crashing into the lives of Mexican supermodel, Valeria played by Goya Toledo, and her newly separated boyfriend Daniel, played by Alvaro Guerrero.
Valeria has her life turned around after having major reconstructive surgery, and then losing her own dog, Ritchie in a hole of her apartment’s hardwood floor. Valeria goes from being the spokesmodel of a fictitious makeup line, Enchant, and seeing her face on billboards all over the city to a depressed suicidal person without her dog, and without her physical beauty which made her famous.
It’s at the same moment that the third installment titled, “El Chivo” begins with El Chivo himself, played by Emilio Echevarria, coming into contact with Octavio’s bad luck. The ex-Zapatista rebel/hitman brings Cofi; Octavio’s injured Rottweiller back to his ramshackle apartment where he nurses him back to health. Yet El Chivo’s story only begins there as we’re taken into the life of this reclusive assassin, and regretful father.
This movie like a few others, Sliding Doors, and Run Lola Run come to mind, deals with fate, and the simple twists that occur everyday. Heralded by the New York Times as “the first classic of the new decade,” Amores Perros is truly unlike any film I’ve ever seen. The director, Gonzalez Inarritu superbly blends an intricate plot with exceptional acting, powerful music, and tight editing that make the movie, aside from a few long-winded scenes, very powerful.

2001-10-16T14:30:00.000-07:00
Chris Garvey

All dog-owners know what it's like to clean up after their canine friend's bowel movements. Yet I wonder if anyone knows as much as I do. I ponder over this seemingly meaningless question because not only do I own a dog that has passed numerous objects through his intestines, but also for a short time I worked at a dog kennel where picking up poop was one of my focal tasks
During a two year sabbatical from college a few years ago I took a job at a dog kennel where picking, scooping, and cleaning up pounds of dog and cat feces was an ongoing exercise. I shoveled up the massive movements of Rottweillers, the overwhelmingly rank terds of a Siamese Cat, and I even bathed a Yorkshire Terrier who had rolled around in it's own diarrhea. Yet although my mornings, afternoons, and evenings were amazingly repulsive, no tale from my kennel days compares to those generated by the behaviors of my own dog, Bruno.
Bruno, my best friend, and four-year-old Old English Bulldog has pooped everything from plastic grocery bags and pantyhose to bottle caps and safety pins. He's also had two surgeries to remove objects that were lodged in his digestive system (which I had to pay over two-thousand dollars for) but that's another story.
I've woken up to the plunger-like sound of Bruno vomiting out a washable dishrag, a wool sock, and a chamois cloth. It's happened so many times that I have this nightmarish composite of how it goes down stored in my head. I'll be sleeping and his horkings will begin to permeate my ears. The sounds will transform from a noise that plays an orchestral part in my dream into a terrible reality.
Yet having been conditioned, from this happening literally fifty plus times, I will jump out of bed and attempt to drag Bruno to a hard-floored surface. It's at that time when my collar grabbing will activate the involuntary rumbling in his stomach. This early morning wake-up call will usually then climax with whatever inedible object he swallowed exploding onto my rug, slipper, or pajama pant leg.
My friend's father, who was born and raised in Hungary, tried to teach me an interesting moral. I ironically enough, had stepped in their Doberman Pincher, Spike's crap, and I was complaining. As I scraped the grooves of my sneaker sole with a stick he told me that in Hungary they look at stepping in dog poop as a sign of good luck.
Just the idea of a culture turning something so clearly negative into something positive quieted my ranting for a brief moment, but not much longer. Stepping in, much like picking up the foul mess of a dog's digested dinner is bad. And before I adopted that outlook on the situation I reminded myself that, “I'm not Hungarian, I'm American and sick of dog crap!”

2001-10-16T14:25:00.000-07:00

2001-10-03T15:46:00.000-07:00
Chris Garvey
I woke up on the morning of September 11 like I do on most mornings. My sleep, overtaken by the infamous voice of Howard Stern. Yet unlike most mornings where Stern is either berating an idiotic calleror making fun of the day's news, his tone as much different. Stern's tone went from complete sarcasm tothat of a serious reporter. He began informing his national audience of what was transpiring in lower Manhattan, and he expressed the thoughts that we all were feeling. He was narrating the war being waged on American soil.
The raunchy comic improviser transformed into a realist's Dan Rather without the blubbering. And his lack of any jokees, compared to the normal Stern who keeps no topic off limits showed how serious the situation in New York really was. The dubbed "shock jock" shifted from a convrsation on Pamela Anderson to the horrifc imagery that Stern and his audience along with the rest of the country was tuning into. The opposing sides of the gawky disc jock confronted one another as did many Americans' views and outllok. As the days events played out even the most liberal thinker tilted to the right, and even the most conservative to the left.
Stern like all Americans may not be loved or even liked by most people. He may not always be respectful or act as morally as some would like. He may not agree with everyone on evreything, but he like all of us flawed and contradictry Amercans have been dramatically reminded of what really matters. And one's political affiliation, sexual orientation, race, or religion has nothing to do with it. Rather what matters is sticking together as Americans, because no matter how different we all are, we're cut from the same cloth. And although that cloth may have been taken for granted at times, it must not be now.

2001-09-25T14:20:00.000-07:00

2001-09-25T14:07:00.000-07:00
< I bypassed Ground Zero on our trek into Manhattan from Brooklyn. I didn't think I should follow the hordes of people with cameras and camcorders to the place where our great country was attacked. As I stepped out onto the sidewalk at the Canal Street station the smell was enough of a reminder for me.
The stench of burnt plastic, scorched wires, pulverized concrete, and melted steel lingered at nose level on this humid Saturday afternoon. Although I was somewhat drawn to see up close the devastation of World Trade Square I fought that urge. I felt like I didn't need to go to the site to experience the devastation that New York is still in the grips of.
Each step I took I was reminded of September 11. From the prayers, and xeroxed photos of family members posted on streetposts to the vendors selling American flag bandanas, stars and stripes dog collars, pins, belts, scrunchies, and American flags even. As I sat on the promenade overlooking the East River which divides Brooklyn from the scarred "Apple," I could still smell that repulsive odor. I could see the floodlights illuminating the smoke that was rising into the air. And hours later as I layed down to sleep I could still smell the smell of death as it seaped in through my girlfriend's window.
I woke up that morning with phlem that tasted foreign. And as i spit it into the sink I relaized that I didn't need to go to the site of the WTC to feel the aftershock. It's sill reverberating in every borough, and on every street. Because as the rest of world slowly begins to move on to other pressing news, it's New Yorkers who have to live with the carnage.