Can We PLEASE Get Rid of John Kerry?

Why the long face?

Seriously.

Can we please get rid of John Forbes Kerry, the most ineffectual, useless, gutless, waste-of-space in the Senate today?

This poseur has been in the Senate since the early ’80s and, because he represents Massachusetts, has barely been challenged since. He has been hiding in Ted Kennedy’s (considerable) shadow since then, occasionally showing up to Washington between trips to his various yachts (including gas-guzzling powerboats – so much for the value (or credibility) of Al Gore’s endorsement), mansions and vacation spots.

Can you think of one useful piece of legislation the guy has been responsible for in all those years?

Say what you will about Ted Kennedy, at least no one accuses him of not representing the Commonwealth, taking a stand on an issue or making his mark during his tenure. Can you say that about Kerry? The guy’s a key example in Wikipedia under the term “flip-flop”.  You think I’m kidding?

Completely, utterly, gutless and useless.

You know, it’s one thing to be useless, it’s another thing to be arrogant and useless. And that’s why I particularly despise this guy.

Here’s a quote from Kerry just after a brief “debate” with his Democratic challenger on TV this morning, when asked if there’d be any more debates:

“This is what we negotiated, this is what we agree to, and we’ve done it,” he said. “I go back to work in Washington. I’ve got a full-time job, unlike my opponent.”

Are you kidding me?!

He’s never held a job, made a payroll, started a business, run a business or even worked in the private sector, to my knowledge. He comes from money, marries into super-money, does a half-assed job as Senator, loses his bid to the Presidency to the most ridiculed, least-liked sitting President in modern times, and that’s his attitude?

Shouldn’t he have retired in embarrassment after that? I guess if you have no shame you can’t be embarrassed. Of course, had he any shame he wouldn’t be running for re-election on his record, such as it is.

The sad thing is, we’re still in Massachusetts, there’s no one that will challenge him who’s got any gravitas and so we are likely to have to endure this effete, haughty, empty suit and haircut of a politician for yet another six years.

Crassen rassen frassen…

 

[for an updated and sympathetic view, check this out]

On Amazon: The Totalitarian Two-Fer

(I know I’m a little late with this, but here it is nonetheless…)

I had mixed emotions about the Olympic Games in China, especially after witnessing the opening ceremonies.

I couldn’t help thinking I had seen something like this before. So when NBC started hawking a DVD of the Opening Ceremonies in their entirety…

I clicked through…

NBC DVD

but decided to see what they had on Amazon, just in case…

and, lo and behold….

 

(c) 2008 Stevie the K. All rights reserved

The Other Side of Soccer: Our Idiots are Tougher than Your Idiots

I guess I don’t give this side of soccer much attention, because it tends not to be an issue here in the States, but perhaps it’s an inevitable consequence of soccer’s global emergence.

Or, just another example of the increased idiocy level of people in groups.

Crew-West Ham United friendly marred by brawl between fans

Security guards hold back fans after a fight broke out at an exhibition match between MLS' Columbus Crew and English Premier League side West Ham United.

You Owe Starbucks a Debt of Gratitude

Recently, the Starbucks chain of coffee shops announced a series of store closures, indicating an economic retrenchment after many years of rapid growth. In some circles, this stumbling on Starbucks’ part has been met with cheers of satisfaction, as if a hated style of music had fallen on hard times.

One of the phenomena of our popular culture that has amused me over the last ten years or so is the almost religious hatred that some people have for Starbucks. Unwittingly turning the power of successful branding on its head, these people take it upon themselves as a badge of honor to reject Starbucks as a kind of self-awarded validation of their middle-class rootedness.  Even some very wealthy people do this. Think Mike Barnicle, for example.

They embrace, say, Dunkin’ Donuts as their coffee source of choice as if to say, “I’m a regular guy, ’cause I hate Starbucks”. But in fact, coffee costs pretty much the same at either shop. So it’s not an economic issue.

So go on with your smug, self-satisfied rejection of Starbucks. Because that has everything to do with your self-image; reject the comfy furniture, the calming wood interiors, the soft lighting, the idiotic substitution of foreign-sounding words for “small, medium or large”, or the availability of wi-fi so that a pretentious doofus can sit at a table for a few hours with their laptop pretending to workfor whatever reason.

The irony is, that no matter where you do enjoy getting your coffee from, that coffee is better because of the existence of Starbucks. In fact, Starbucks is the one core reason why good coffee is available nearly everywhere nowadays. But not too long ago, that was not the case.

Fifteen or more years ago, Dunkin’ Donuts, along with virtually every other place that served coffee, did so from one of those “Bunn-O-Matic” hot plate-heated glass carafes, using some crappy generic ground coffee obtained through a food distributor who probably also provided the napkins and the Sweet-n-Lo.  That coffee was made by some disinterested person opening up the store in the morning, and it sat there until it was gone and someone had to make more. Or, if the place wasn’t busy, it would sit there on the burner and get burnt. Or, perhaps someone put in too much water and you drank hot brown water.

I often hear how people who claim to hate Starbucks do so because they don’t like the coffee. “It tastes burnt”.  “It’s bitter”.  However I’ve found that many of those same people don’t drink their coffee black. Of course, that’s a matter of taste, but if you’re one of those people who dumps three sugars and half a cup of milk into their coffee, then your opinion really doesn’t matter. Because you don’t really care what real coffee tastes like. Or smells like.

But for those who actually like the smell and taste of good coffee, say a big “thank you” to the fact that Starbucks exists. Because they raised the bar for everyone. Before, you couldn’t find a dependably good cup of coffee anywhere. Now, local coffee shops thrive in virtually every town, because people now know what good coffee tastes like, and they demand it. McDonalds has great coffee now because of Starbucks. And yes, Dunkin’ Donuts has great coffee because of Starbucks.

For what it’s worth, I like Starbucks. And Dunkin’ Donuts. And McDonalds. And I’m glad I can get a really good cup of coffee at any of them. But I also know why that is.

And now, so do you.

God’s Will?

One doesn’t want to be thought of as intolerant, or insensitive at a time of a family’s crisis, but after yet another example of a ‘faith-healing’ family’s child dying needlessly, I’m going to spew.

Does it ever dawn on these people that perhaps, just perhaps, God, the Holy One, blessed be He, in His infinite wisdom and mercy, gave us the ability to reason so that we could discover medicine and scientific breakthroughs and actually heal the sick with that intelligence and capability?

Why do these morons insist on cloaking themselves in stupidity and ignorance in the name of God?

Can’t faith and intelligence coexist?

Of course, this raises a whole set of discussions on faith and behavior, e.g. evolution vs. creationism and intelligent design, religious wars, intolerance between religions, etc.

Fine. Discuss.

 

Chelsea Fans: You Don’t Know What You’re Saying

I watched the great Chelsea v. Arsenal game yesterday in which Chelsea came from behind to beat Arsenal at home 2 to 1. Now, those of you who either know me personally or read this blog enough know that I personally don’t care who wins. I’m just an American who loves English football and I have the luxury of not being a supporter of any one team. I like to see great team play, great individual talent and execution and, when it happens, great tactical adjustments by managers.

Now, if you’re still reading at this point, it’s likely because you like English football,  so I don’t have to recap the entire history of Chelsea’s change in management this year – the whole “cult of Mourinho” vs. Avram Grant and so on. Suffice it to say that it seems clear that the Chelsea fans, despite the successes the team has had since Grant’s assignment, still somehow feel that Mourinho is the only person who could possibly lead the team to the Premier League title.

So, with Chelsea down one-nil in the second half, when Grant made a daring double substitution inserting Anelka and Belletti in place of Ballack and Makalele, many in the crowd at Stamford Bridge started the mocking chant “You Don’t Know What You’re Doing”, along with invocations of Mourinho’s name.

Because soccer substitutions are permanent for the course of the game, they represent major strategic and tactical choices. The only American analog I can think of is in baseball, where the removal and substitution of a particular pitcher or hitter at a critical moment in a game can make or break the eventual outcome of that game. However, in my experience, while the fans may boo or moan, they don’t call the manager out in the same way as they do in soccer, where chants and songs are more traditional and commonplace. Instead, fans call up sports talk shows after the game is over and, with perfect 20-20 hindsight, proclaim their brilliance and insight.

Well, in this case, divine justice prevailed as Grant’s substitutes made an immediate and beneficial impact on the game, setting up two Didier Drogba strikes within eight minutes of each other, and giving Chelsea the victory. And although Grant, in an interview after the game, stated that he didn’t notice the fans’ mocking and disapproval, one can only speculate that he had, at least internally, a sense of personal satisfaction.

From my distant vantage point, I do not see or hear the day-to-day commentary or experience the cultural mood that comes with being a Chelsea fan. But it seems to me that Grant has come to Stamford Bridge under very challenging circumstances, produced excellent results and has comported himself with class. You’d think the Chelsea fans would appreciate that fact and enjoy it.

But clearly, “They Don’t Know What They’re Doing”.

Basking in the Sunny Rhetoric of Change

I’ve generally been staying away from politics in this blog – I think there are plenty of people covering the various positions with more enthusiasm and insight, without another semi-qualified bloviator chiming in. But really, what’s with all the smoochies for Obama?

I made fun of Hillary’s “35 years of change” for the empty, grasping phrase it was. But is it only because people are finally seeing her for the phony, say-or-do-whatever-it-takes-to-win mercenary she really is that people are embracing Barack Obama with such fervor? Or is it just because all the other choices (for Democrats, anyway) are out of the race? I’m not sure, because I felt that most of the Democrat choices were pathetic, empty vessels to begin with. Edwards was a total haircut, and his “two Americas” position was belied by his own ridiculously opulent lifestyle, funded by shaking down corporations in the courtroom. Biden was probably the only really qualified Democrat candidate, but as a long-term Senator, seen as part of the problem rather than part of the solution.

But all this “love” for Obama? Why?

Because compared to Hillary, he’s palatable. It’s as simple as that, unfortunately. And that’s all that’s left to the Democrats.

I mean, who among us didn’t throw up a little into our mouths when Hillary summed up her recent debate appearance by saying how “honored…truly honored” she was to be appearing with Barack Obama. Honored?! Are you kidding? She RESENTS his presence in HER run for the Presidency! This was supposed to be HER slam-dunk nomination! How’s she going to be the First Woman President? Honored? She’d kill the bastard if she could get away with it. And at this point, everyone’s kind of figured that out, at last.

So, those who consider themselves “Democrats” or to the Left can bask in the sunny, empty rhetoric of “change” coming from someone who isn’t Hillary. Never mind that he’s accomplished nothing that would qualify him to be President of the United States. You can even feel kind of good that you’re going to vote for a Black Guy who is (bonus!) well-spoken and not particularly threatening; proving (at least, to yourself) that you’re not, even in the least bit, prejudiced against black people. Sure, he sounds nice, and reasonable; you’re sure he really represents the best hopes and aspirations for the country, right?

Here’s a couple of nice pieces casting some criticism on Mr. and Mrs. Obama. ‘Cause if the Clinton Presidency taught us anything, it’s that you’re getting the spouse with the candidate.

I think what’s really needed is an alternative to the flawed primary system that doesn’t let ninety percent of the American people vote for the candidates they’re REALLY interested in supporting. Why do a few, unrepresentative doofuses in Iowa, New Hampshire and South Carolina get to influence MY opportunity to vote? I’m sure I can’t be the only one who feels this way. Alternatives, please!

Barriers to Exit: How Quicken Screws its Customers

When I was in business school, we learned (amongst other things) about developing various competitive strategies. One of the ones hardly anyone seemed to pay attention to, but was fascinating to me, was the concept of creating “Barriers to Exit”.

This is the complement to the better known “Barriers to Entry”, which typically implies that if you can enter a market first, and make it either so expensive or so time consuming to a competitor to consider entering that it would not be worth their while to follow you into that market, they would therefore  concede it to you.

Barriers to Exit implies that you make it so expensive, time consuming or otherwise difficult to leave a market (or a product) that you have captive control over it. And that’s where Quicken comes in.

Quicken is one of the few examples of an independent software company which has successfully fended off Microsoft’s entry into its domain. Their original product was and is a personal finance and check writing program. Over the years (and decades now), it has evolved from a simple checkbook balancer to a complex combination of tax reporting, investment handling and personal finance adviser. Its foundation, though, is still basically a checkbook program and, as such, it’s very convenient. Many of its customers, myself included, have been using one version or another of Quicken for over 15 years, even predating Windows back to the DOS era. Think of the brand loyalty implied in that record of accomplishment! We were glad to be able to support an upstart company which beat back the Microsoft juggernaut with a superior product and a great customer orientation. As the need would arise, usually when some significant improvement in the software would occur, I would upgrade to the newer version, which they would make available to past customers at a reduced rate.

Unfortunately, over the past several years, there have been increased numbers of complaints about both the Quicken software and its dedication to the customer. Reports of buggy software are common now, and the annual version upgrades seem to offer little improvement over the previous year’s. So, most people would keep their old versions, with which they were perfectly content.

Of course, without annual upgrades by enough of the user base, company management can’t drive the requisite increases in revenue they need to justify their positions. So, they’re forced to choose between happy customers, and greater revenue growth. Guess which they choose.

So, Quicken now has adopted a “sunsetting” policy on its old software. Now at most software companies, that just means that they just stop supporting the old software with patches, fixes and so forth. Not at Quicken. They actually inform their customers that the online components of their software, including some basic functionality that users need every day to download bank balances and credit card transactions, will be turned off. That’s right. Even though these functions work fine, they’re going to shut them off. Leaving customers with three choices: upgrade, find some other program, or go back to entering all transactions manually.

What makes this particularly ugly is that when one does a little research into the new upgrade versions, one finds that the customer satisfaction levels with those new versions are terrible. Not just so-so or mezza-mezza. Awful. People generally hate the new versions as buggy, non-functional or just plain unnecessary. And reviews of the once-great Quicken customer service are similarly poor. Check some place where there’s customer input, like Amazon or elsewhere. It’s shocking. Review after review of people saying “I’ve used Quicken for (5, 10, 15) years and now I hate them” or similar. It’s hard to imagine a company doing a more successful job of ruining its reputation without actually dumping oil into a village of baby seals or releasing poison gas into a highly populated third world hellhole. But they have.

And that’s where Barriers to Exit comes in. Because despite all these facts, you really have no choice. You have to upgrade because you depend on it. Over fifteen years of comprehensive personal finance records, several loans, a mortgage, a handful of bank accounts, IRAs, 401(k)s and the lot. All currently kept up to date at the push of a button. Until shut off time. And from all accounts the Microsoft competitor is even worse. And there’s nothing else out there.

So you’re stuck.

And they know it.

Classic Sports Uniforms

What constitutes a “classic” sports uniform?

I started to consider this topic after watching a Serie A (Italian football) match where one of the teams (Palermo) had pink jerseys.

Yes, you read that right. Pink. Jerseys. Here, look.

Can you imagine Dick Butkus or Jim Otto playing in a pink jersey? How about Gordie Howe? No F’ing way.

I could go off in another direction here, about how some conventions and assumptions in American professional sports just, by definition, prohibit the use of certain teams names and/or uniform colors that occur in other countries. In fact, I will for a moment.

Unlike college sports, where unusual team mascots may have emerged and survived, professional sports teams’ names in this country tend to have a very narrow range of acceptability. Typically, they are aggressive names. Lions, Tigers, Bears, Vikings, Jaguars, Panthers, and so on. I don’t pay attention to the minor sports, like “Ultimate Arena Fighting Football Gladiators”, or whatever, but it wouldn’t surprise me if there were teams like the Punishers, Maimers, BoneCrushers, WhackJobs, and the like.

Even our bird teams are aggressive: Eagles, Hawks, Ravens, Seahawks, Falcons. Even Blue Jays are nasty, aggressive birds. The only relatively benign birds I can think of are both baseball teams, e.g., Orioles, Cardinals (yes there are football Cardinals but only because they used to be from St. Louis and they were too lazy or cheap to change it). Oh, wait, there’s the Anaheim Ducks, but that was basically a promo for a bad movie. I can’t believe a team called the Ducks won the Stanley Cup – but that’s part of an anti-NHL rant that I’m not prepared to get into right now.

In any case, can you imagine a domesticated housepet-type-bird as the mascot for a real (i.e., not baseball) sports team?

Well in English football they have the Norwich Canaries. Yes, you read that correctly. Canaries.

 As it turns out, it’s a particular species of bird with a long history in the region. But still, as a sports mascot, it’s kind of…well… lame, isn’t it?

Does that strike fear deep in the heart of the competition? Ooohh…watch out for those Canaries. You might get peeped at, or get a nasty scratch. Somehow it doesn’t conjure up images of raptor-like violence or destruction. Even in Hitchcock’s The Birds, the canaries didn’t peck anyone’s eyes out, although they likely did cheer the perpetrators on.

Similarly, there are certain colors that are, or are not, acceptable for a sports team’s uniform.

There’s been a trend over the last ten years or so to adding BLACK to a team’s uniform – I guess to make it look meaner. Perhaps there’s a socioeconomic implication there but I don’t know and I don’t want to go there. Anyway, this guy did a post along these lines about NFL uniform redesigns which is pretty good and quite comprehensive. Another fellow did a nice listing of his top 50 classic soccer jerseys. I owe him the link to the Palermo jersey – thanks dude!

My point was, after viewing the travesty that was this Italian team’s pink jerseys, that it could NEVER happen here in the states. I mean, we’ve had some ridiculous professional sports team uniforms, typically during the decade of horrendous design also known as the 70s, but eventually these mistakes have been rectified. They’ve even undid the 70s logo change at NASA, for goodness sake.

So, what then constitutes a classic uniform?

For me, it comes down to a few key variables:

• A certain consistency or longevity of use
• Non-fugly throughout time
• Non-fugly logo & clean number font
• Tendency to be associated with great teams

I don’t have a comprehensive list thus far, but I know there are a few that I have tended to like over the years:

• Montreal Canadiens
• New York Yankees/Detroit Tigers
• Chicago Bears
• Boston Celtics
• Los Angeles (Brooklyn) Dodgers
• Chicago BlackHawks
• Indianapolis (Baltimore) Colts

Many teams have had so many uniform and logo changes over the years that they can’t be considered. Many of those tend to blend into a sort of sameness that prevents a casual fan from knowing immediately which team is which. Others have redesigned their logos in a most noxious fashion. That’s why this tends to be a fairly short list.

You could see a picture of Jean Béliveau or Rocket Richard (or here, Yvan Cournoyer) and that Canadiens jersey looks the same as it does today. Looks distinctive in black and white, looks terrific in color with its blue stripe surrounded by white over a red jersey (OK, it’s hockey, call it a sweater).

The Yankees white with pinstripes, with the NY crossed letters logo over the left chest is timeless and classic. Even if you hate the Yankees now, it’s still the same uniform that Gehrig, DiMaggio and Ruth wore (though Ruth stretched it out a bit). The classic “D” on the Detroit Tigers uniform seems the same to me as well.

The Chicago Bears black with three arm stripes is a great, ‘down and dirty’ classic that looks the same as it did in the 40s without being excessively dated. Similarly, the Celtics simple classicism has remained appealing without being dated.

I always liked the scripted “Dodgers” logo, which to me is sort of an “All-American” icon. When you go abroad, and people wear weird “American-style” jackets that tend to say ridiculous non-English phrases on them, they still have some kind of scripted logo like the Dodgers logo. It’s just sort of classic to the eye and stays fresh even when it’s treated as a retro styling cue.

Finally, the Blackhawks and Colts have kept a consistent look throughout the ages even with some minor styling tweaks. The Blackhawks Indian Head logo is really cool, even in this PC age, and the Colts uniform is a model of simplicity and consistency.

Well, that’s my list. What are your choices?

Anyone? Bueller?

Revisionist Pop Culture History

They say that history is written by the victors. I say it’s written by who’s around. A slight difference perhaps but here’s how I got there.

Our pop culture “history” is being skewed by those who currently create content in our media. Do you like to watch those ‘nostalgia’ shows on VH-1 about the 70s? The ones that focus almost entirely on the disco years, bad sitcoms and a few crappy Hanna-Barbera cartoon shows? Those of us who lived through the period know that there was, in fact, a lot of great music as well as some decent programming then. But then VH-1 is largely populated by 20-somethings, who only know what they can find on reruns or a quick Google search of the Billboard charts. They don’t have the boxes full of 12″ vinyl albums collected over years of diverse listening. They didn’t actually watch TV then because they hadn’t been born. So historical retrospective is shaped from a skewed viewpoint.

Allan Melvin died recently. If you read his obituary in most newspapers , chances are you learned he was “Sam the Butcher” on The Brady Bunch and, oh by the way, he did some other stuff too, but it was in Black and White so who cares. So, this talented actor who, amongst a lifetime of excellent character work, was a key player in Phil Silvers’ Sgt. Bilko series, which had more laughs in one episode than The Brady Bunch had in its entire run, is remembered only for a few appearances in a mediocre Sherwood Schwartz pablum-fest. Because the dweeb whose job it was to crank out the obit for the wire service probably never even heard of Allan Melvin before he died, except when one of his or her peers pointed out that he was “Alice’s boyfriend on the Brady Bunch”.

And while I’m on the subject, let’s talk briefly about Sherwood Schwartz. All of his shows sucked. Without exception. You probably have heard of Gilligan’s Island, his other “hit”. But he was also responsible for the mid-60s bomb, “It’s About Time” which, despite the presence of early TV legends Joe E. Ross and Imogene Coca, was horrible. I will say this about Schwartz though: his theme songs were GREAT. In fact, the theme songs were the only redeeming qualities of the three shows I’ve cited. I bet you can sing the themes to both Gilligan’s Island  and The Brady Bunch and, if you’re old enough, can remember at least part of “It’s About Time”.

Which got me to thinking about the power of a good theme song. Or jingle.

About a year ago, I was reading an article in an advertising trade publication where the 30-something pontificating creative being interviewed said that the advertising jingle was long dead. Replaced by licensed usage of pop and rock music. Jingles were history, like three networks and a captive audience.

I’m not sure of the connection between them but I do remember disagreeing when I read it. True, hardly anyone’s using jingles any more.  And yet, most of us remember the good advertising jingles we’ve heard through our entire lives. I can start them here and even without the benefit of singing them you could finish most of them (I threw in one which is local to the Boston area):

• You, you’re the one…. you are the only reason…
• Hold the pickles, hold the lettuce….
• You’ll wonder where the yellow went….
• Who do you call when your windshield’s busted?
• Oh, I wish I were an …
• Double your pleasure …

and so on. My point, of course, is that these jingles give instant and lasting product recall and, usually, brand preference as well. While most of our cherished rock music memories have been sold out to product placements, do they elicit the same strong product recall? Maybe the ubiquitous use of Bob Seger’s Like a Rock comes to mind, but how many millions or perhaps even billions of dollars did that take? And does it make you want to buy a pickup truck? Or does it make you want to put away your Seger LPs or CDs because you’ve heard it a million times now for a truck commercial?

Understanding English People

One of the things that’s become quickly apparent to me as I’ve started this blog, and been exposed to more of the culture surrounding the Premier League and English football in general,  is that English people don’t speak English. They speak Something Else That Has English In It.

Growing up, I’d had relatively little exposure to the colloquialisms of English speech. My experience with English culture consisted largely of the following:

• exported BBC programming on Masterpiece Theatre
• various WWII movies with British forces, e.g. The Longest Day
• Monty Python
• To Sir, With Love
• Mary Poppins & Oliver!
• Doctor in the House
• Benny Hill
• The Two Ronnies

and, more recently,

• Sexy Beast
• Snatch

I mean, here we are, supposedly speaking the same language, but there are all these words to which I had never been exposed and for which I have no Real English equivalent.

 Luckily, I found this handy reference guide:

The English-to-American Dictionary

In addition to being a useful, go-to reference, it makes interesting leisure reading. Well done, old boy! Cor blimey! Stone the Crows!

As you can see I have a ways to go yet to get current.

 

More You Are What you Drive, you #&@#$!

Continued from http://steviethek.wordpress.com/2007/12/12/you-are-what-you-drive-you/

From the 90s to the Present Day

 The early 90s saw the emergence of a new lousy driver’s favorite: the beige or “champagne gold” GM sedan.

Whether Chevy Lumina or Buick Century, this nondescript four-door would announce proudly to the motoring public: “I’m old, and I drive like crap!”.

This inheritor of the proud heritage of Plymouth Valiants, Ramblers and K-Cars continues to the present day, dependably taking up both lanes in a divided roadway; as well as making the occasional, vague unsignaled sudden turn, the hallmark of the stubborn aging driver unwilling to concede that he or she needs those new fangled glasses that let you see both close AND far away.

As long as you can fit those wraparound cataract sunglasses over them, no problem.

However, these predictable yet relatively benign hazards soon gave way to a more ominous, dangerous set of roadway dangers: SUVs and cell phones.

The mid-90s brought a new, more frightening phenomenon to the roads: the urban assault vehicle or, as it is commonly known, the SUV.

One of the most clever hoaxes ever to be perpetrated on the consuming public, the first SUVs were, in fact, crappy pick up trucks fitted with a slightly more plush interior as well as a permanent bed cap instead of the junky aftermarket one your plumber friend has on his. But gussied up a bit, their comfy insides combined with a much higher vantage point made the insecure female driver, formerly content to shield herself in the safe confines of the Volvo wagon, feel more confident in her ability to drive while drying nail polish or playing with the radio to find that station that plays Shania Twain or Faith Hill at least once per hour.

And so the American auto companies could dramatically increase profit margins on aging vehicle platforms without the need for actual product improvements. Meanwhile, the vastly increased number of these heavy, inefficient vehicles on the road contributed to a rise in serious accidents as well as fuel consumption nationwide.

Combining these larger, heavier vehicles with a new source of distraction in the form of the mobile phone has created a menace to the road-traveling public never before seen. Where an experienced person might encounter, on rare occasion, the intoxicated driver weaving across lanes or going inexplicably slowly, it is now rather common to see this kind of dangerous obliviousness on the roads. Almost without exception, the offender is driving while using a cell phone.

Epilogue

Today, with the ubiquitous presence of cell phones in cars, the dangerous driver has become universal; and so, the ability to identify poor driving by the type of car is becoming increasingly rare. Another remnant of my childhood, youth and early adulthood made increasingly obsolete by technology.

However as bad as cell phones while driving are, I propose in parting that a line in the sand be drawn in the case of texting while driving. As far as I am concerned, this is tantamount to a capital offense. Let me explain.

If you commit a crime with a firearm, you are committing a more egregious crime by definition than the same crime without the firearm. The reason for this is the threat posed by the presence of the firearm, i.e., the threat of lethal force. Texting while driving is exactly the same. If you are texting while driving a motor vehicle, that vehicle represents the threat of lethal force, and your texting dramatically increases the chances that the vehicle will, in fact, cause an accident which unleashes lethal force. 

Therefore, despite my relatively conservative approach to personal freedom and responsibility, I would advocate a law equating texting while driving to committing an assault with a firearm. Even if no accident takes place, it represents an undesirable and unreasonable threat to your fellow man, which should be punished severely whenever witnessed. Stop this dangerous menace now before it becomes as ubiquitous as cell phone use.

Or reality television.

More Separated at Birth, Barclay’s Premier League Edition

See also http://steviethek.wordpress.com/2007/12/17/separated-at-birth-barclays-premier-league-edition/

Dimitar Berbatov	Goran Visnjic (Luka from “ER”)

This one seemed obvious to me, though I’ve seen him also compared to Andy Garcia. Perhaps ten years ago. Now, Garcia looks a little more like Sergeant Garcia from the old Zorro TV show.

Michael Ballack	“Marky” Mark Wahlberg

Well, one’s German, the other just beat up blacks during his youth. Now they’re just both overpaid.

Hillary Clinton: 35 Years of Change

Thank goodness for the Internet. Without this valuable tool, we wouldn’t be able to verify the claims of our political candidates as easily as we do.

Last evening at the New Hampshire Democratic Candidates’ debate, Hillary Clinton asserted that she represents “35 years of change”. I could not think of how that could be true, so I started poking around. Lo and behold, she’s not lying!

 Have a look:

60s Hillary

Hippie Hillary

Cookie-baking Hillary

Stand-by-your-man Hillary
(alternately, “Stepford” Hillary)

Pay attention to me, dammit! Hillary
(alternately, “Give in to the Dark Side of the Force” Hillary)

Boy, I’m convinced. She’s ready to lead on an agenda of change.

Of hair styles.

Motorcycling: More Divisive than Politics?

It’s a lot of fun, especially at this time of year, to point out the myriad hypocrisies involved in politics. You know, all of a sudden everyone’s religious, everyone’s out to help “the working person”, the decrying of “Swift Boating” tactics just because they got away with it and you didn’t, and so on.

Do you think that politics has become too divisive? Too polarized? Too “it’s us versus them, with no middle ground”?

Then don’t take up motorcycling.

You think there’s a divide between “red states” and “blue states”? That’s nothing compared to the divide between Harley Davidson riders and Everyone Else.

You would think that all motorcyclists would be brethren (or sistern or whatever), because we all ride on two wheels, we all love the feeling, the thrill of motorcycling, we all face the looming threat of the clueless cage drivers, and so on.

But you’d be wrong.

Yes, you gotta love the Harley crowd. Those “rugged individualists” and “rebels”, living their lives their own way, by their own rules, not following the crowd, offering only disdain for the rest of you sheep.

Well, God help you if you’re not wearing the uniform.

q       Black T shirt (preferably HD logo infested)

q       Jeans with heavy wallet chain

q       Bandanna on your unhelmeted head (see below)

q       Tats (preferably on your breast or rump if you’re a woman, ‘cause you’ll have plenty of opportunities to display them publicly)

q       HD branded outer garment, or chaps, preferably with fringes (only if temps drop below 60 – and if they drop below 50 fuggetabouddit – put the bike in storage), even though you wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything with fringes otherwise.

And if you’re riding in a helmet-required state (which we all HATE because we believe in FREEDOM (as long as you’re not violating the above criteria)), and PERSONAL RESPONSIBILITY (except when we ride for an hour, toss back six beers, then try to ride home) you have to have the absolute minimal helmet, basically the size of a large yarmulka, worn far back on the head where it will do the absolute least good in a crash, and which MUST be adorned with anti-helmet and/or anti-social stickers.

Oh, and be sure to remove at least some of the noise-suppression baffles from your exhaust pipes, because “loud pipes save lives”. Actually, loud pipes just piss everyone off, alienating neighbors, fellow motorists and giving motorcycling in general a bad name. But hey, you’re not one of the lemmings. You’re an individual. You do what you want to. Especially when everyone else in your group does it too.

Your other vehicle (the one that you actually use 97% of the time) should have a “my other car is a Harley” bumper sticker or license plate frame, or you must have a Harley Davidson window decal prominently in the rear window.

Because, as we know, you’re a rebel.

Most motorcyclists, when encountering another on the road, wave to each other. Just a friendly little wave as if to say “this is great isn’t it? We’re sharing a fantastic experience that only we on bikes can truly appreciate. Good luck getting a wave from a Harley rider, if you’re not on one as well. Because you don’t count.

Now, you could get deeper into it, dividing the “real” Harley riders apart from the “RUBs” (abbreviation for Rich Urban Bikers; typically nouveau-riche senior level executives with more disposable income than they know what to do with, so they buy Harleys to enhance their flagging manhood because Corvettes are, well, so 80s), but that would be picking nits.

People don’t ride Harley Davidsons because they are the best bike available. Top heavy, poor handling, uncomfortable for long periods of time, they are generally rather mediocre. And don’t fall prey to the “Buy American” argument – in this global economy Harleys are made from parts sourced all over the world, particularly Asia. Just like everything else.

Go to a motorcycle convention or gathering some time. If it’s a gathering for most kinds of bikes, most of the people who came from a distance rode their bike there, perhaps even over the course of several days, because they love riding. If it’s a gathering featuring Harleys, you can be sure that most of them either came from less than a couple of hours away, or trailered or trucked their bike to the destination, then rode the remaining few miles to make their appearance on their well-polished, chrome-adorned badges of social differentiation.

You’re riding a Harley to make a statement. You’re a dissident. Different from the rest of us. You don’t play by anyone else’s rules.

Uh huh.

 

Non Harley Rider

 

Harley Rider

 

Separated at Birth, Barclays Premier League Edition

Most of my friends, acquaintances and other readers aren’t as interested in soccer as I am, so the soccer posts generally go over their heads. But here’s one that, in theory, everyone should be able to enjoy.

 

Ivan Campo	Eric Bogosian, Actor/Playwright

This is the one that got me started thinking about this.

Wayne Rooney	Shrek

 I think this is a match. My wife doesn’t.

But not only do they look alike, they’re both very popular ogres.

Sam Allardyce	Fred Flintstone

 I’d pay real money to hear Big Sam say, “Yabba Dabba Doo”.

Sagna	Sagwa

This was almost too good to be true. Lookalikes AND namealikes.

Kevin Nolan	Ian, this guy I know

I don’t have many pictures of Ian, but you’ll have to take my word for it. They look exactly alike.

Feel free to add your own suggestions in the Comments area.

READER UPDATE #1:

Craig Bellamy	Biff from “Back to the Future”

This one’s from reader “N”. Nice one!

You Are What You Drive, You @^%$#%!

When I was a child, I developed an ongoing theory relating poor driving observed on the road to two major factors:

q       The model of car being driven, and

q       Certain identifiable characteristics of the driver.

 

Typically, the second factor was subservient to the first, with the exception of the global categories of nuns, Asian people and drop-outs, who could technically be driving any car.

 

Back in the 60s and 70s, the main culprits in terms of car being driven were:

q       Chrysler Corp. sedans with straight-six engines, e.g., Plymouth Duster, Valiant, Dodge Dart. Inevitably driven by little old ladies on their way to have their hair re-blued, they hunched themselves over the wheel, which they tightly gripped with both hands, and drove approximately 26 miles per hour where everyone else was driving 30 to 35. Occasionally accented with the eternally-on turn signal to increase the anxiety causing effect.

q       Volkswagen Beetles – Young people not familiar on a first-hand basis with the original Beetle can’t remember that this was, in fact, a car that could barely get out of its own way. With an air-cooled rear-mounted engine that I still believe had a secret latch which, when engaged, would reveal the hamster wheel, carrot and two rodents actually powering this vehicle, the Bug sprung away from stop lights with the enthusiasm of a dad getting up at 2 AM for a screaming baby feeding. Typically driven by self-described “individualists” (read “ultra-cheapskates”) attracted to the car’s admittedly clever advertising. They then sold these crapmobiles to unsuspecting college students and other hippies who would buy anything that moved for under $50.00. As a result, as the 60s gave way to the 70s, these anemic roaches of the byways puttered their way even more erratically as their drivers partook of increasing amounts of reefer and Richard’s Wild Irish Rose before and during their journey.

q       Ramblers of any type – Similar in spirit to the Chrysler Corp. cars cited above, the Ramblers were even more suspect as their owners bought them despite their horrible style, build quality and the looming demise of their parent company, American Motors Corp. You just knew that if you were behind a Rambler, you were in for at least two miles of tentative, uncertain navigation well below the speed limit, in areas where passing was just not possible, followed by sudden acceleration through a changing yellow light leaving you at the red, too far away to speed up and get through yourself.

 

Changes with Time

As the Seventies turned into the Eighties and later into the Nineties, the Chryslers turned into K-cars with no discernable effect on driver competence. The Beetles faded into oblivion as the old cars were either destroyed in minor fender benders with real cars, or fell apart as the last of the crazy glue, duct tape and wire coat hangers holding them together finally gave way. Both these cars and the Ramblers ceased production.

To keep the legions of incompetent drivers moving too slowly in front of the rest of us, carelessly turning left directly into our paths, or just generally driving like idiots without regard to the laws of physics, new models emerged. These were:

q       Volvo Station Wagon – Long positioned as “the safe car”, the wagon variant of the boxy Swedish export inevitably served as the protective cage of choice of the insecure housewife and/or leftist ex-hippie who, subconsciously aware of their poor driving skills, elected to enhance their own chances of survival when inevitably causing an accident. Degree of heinousness related directly to number of and/or clichéd leftishness of bumper stickers which inevitably occupied the substantial rear area of these driveable shipping containers. Yeah, I know, “War is not healthy for children and other living things” – and neither is your driving, bimbo.

These vehicles flourished in the late 70s through the early 90s, at which point two critical developments converged: the de-boxification of Volvos, and the emergence of the SUV as the preferred passive-aggressive tool of the insecure woman driver. More on that later.

q       Toyota Corolla – For some reason, this particular plain vanilla cheap-ass econo-box is the weapon of choice of today’s driving incompetent. It’s not about economics. Hordes of Honda Civic owners seem to convey themselves quite well as a group, as do those who’ve chosen Nissan Altimas, Ford Focii, and most of the other entry-level sedans. No, for some reason Toyotas seem to have inherited the legacy of the K-car or VW Beetle-driving ultra cheapskate – the person who might read Consumer Reports just for the gas mileage and MSRP figures, while gleefully disregarding the performance and driving experience as a purchase decision factor. Note that this applies in particular to the lowest-end, most stripped-down trim variant available.  “But they’re dependable!” Yeah, you can depend on one of them to cut in front of you from a side street and immediately assume a cruising speed of eight miles per hour on their skinny, Aurora Model Motoring HO-scale looking tires.

q       Ford Mustang / Pontiac TransAm / GM ‘SS’ model sedans (NB: for ‘SS’, for full effect must be black car with black bumper and wheel treatment, at least 6 years old with aftermarket tinted windows) – The tool of choice for the loutish youth at your high school (or young adult ne’er-do-well several years older); one of these overpowered but underengineered beauties will be observed screaming away from stop lights, tailgating you or the person in front of them, and/or performing ill-advised lane changes on the interstate at over 80 MPH even in a freezing rain. Mullets and wispy moustaches adorn the driver, even when female.  Frequently seen on the 11 PM news having been unwrapped from a telephone pole in an accident where “excessive speed may have been a factor”.

Into the Present Day

In our next installment: from the 90s to today – how my theory has changed with technology.