Reminiscing...

You don't hear too much about Mumia anymore. I wonder how he's doing...


(I was reminded of him, because on New Years Day, I'll be having mimosas.)

We Belong Together

When I was an undergrad at Rutgers, most of my time was spent booking concerts. I wrote a one-man show about it and I have plenty of stories, (making Dave Chappelle laugh, getting called a communist by the bassist from Weezer, getting yelled at by They Might Be Giants' [formerly Barry Manilow's] tour manager) which I will eventually expand upon in these pages, but my favorite story has to be from after I graduated.

During my tenure, I did everything to be as accomodating as possible, from purchasing EVERYTHING on their riders (Carrot juice, socks, Magnums), to booking acts I couldn't care less about (Edwin McCain, anyone?). As long as people got ahold of me ahead of time, I would do what I could to help. But without fail, at every show, a girl in a wheelchair would show up at the backstage entrance. Now, gyms and soccer fields aren't the most wheelchair accessible, so I had no problem letting her in. But inevitably, as soon as I left to get yelled at (or kicked in the head) by a tour manager, her ENTIRE sorority would end up being backstage. Just another headache on the day of a concert.

A few years after I graduated, Gavin DeGraw did a concert at Rutgers and once again the sisters of whatever sorority (Delta Gamma, I think) did their thing.

After the show, the concert crew loaded out the sound and lighting equipment, they noticed that Gavin's tour bus was still there...with an empty wheelchair outside.

God Bless Us, Everyone

The best gift I got this year:

"Up, Up, and Oy Vey!: How Jewish History, Culture, and Values Shaped the Comic Book Superhero"


...and of course, money.

What I learned on Wikipedia (12/26/06)

- There was a jukebox musical based on the songs of Madness that played in England.

- Simpsons writer and producer Mike Reiss, "is rumored to be in a romantic relationship with current Simpsons show runner and long time collaborator Al Jean, who is really 200 years old and has A NASAL VOICE."

Ghosts of Christmas Past

A couple years ago, I didn't know what to get anybody. Gift certificates were so impersonal, so I hatched an ingenius scheme:
I'd buy people things they definitely WOULDN'T want, include a gift receipt, and they could return them and get anything they wanted.

The concept being: it would indicate that I did know their tastes, so in a way it was personal, but they could still get what they wanted.
I went to Borders, since they have books, movies and music (At reasonable prices!).

In practice this didn't work as well as expected:

"Happy Mother's Day, Mom! Here's 'Understanding the Koran!'"

"Merry Christmas, Jordan! Here's 'A Woman's Guide to Anal Sex!'"

Happy Chanukkah, Dad! Here's 'Mein Kampf!'"

I didn't do that ever again.

Merry, Merry, Why ya buggin'?

My eyes are red because a) I'm allergic to shrimp or b) I vomited so violently that cranberry juice came out of my eyes.

Then I fell into a bush, scratching my face and half my body.

All in all, it was the best Christmas ever.

Happy Holidays, dear reader.