So it turns out the Son of God may not have been so PG Rated after all. According to several news reports, Jesus Christ Superstar may have had a wife some 2,000 years ago. Deep breaths, Christians, deep breaths. Before you go ahead and run to your local church or watering hole to contemplate life's choices, just chill for a quick minute. This is not the end of the world. God has not come down from the heavens denying such claims and shmiting those reporting them. Relax. We're going to get through this one rational thought at a time.
Let's look at it from the Every Man's Perspective first. Every man wants to get laid. Hold on, let me take the shallowness out of my character and restate that. Every man wants to get married at some point. We may not dream about it like girls do at a young age, but we do. We want kids. We want whatever we see ourselves as to live on through a miniature version of us. Christ was no different. There's no way this guy was living in one of the most savage times in recorded history and did not want to mess around, or even simply talk, with the opposite sex. And afterall, he was Christ for Christ's Sake...had an entire second half of a book written about him. Ladies of the Middle East were probably crawling over this, most likely, five foot nothing, 115 pound, bearded Messiah. I mean, that discription sounds sexy, right ladies?
Joking aside, putting Christ on a pedastool is fine. People need something "perfect" to work toward. Something to believe in. I'm not a practicing Catholic, but I dig Jesus. The guy preached and stood for all the moral things a human should. But if one of the stepping stones on your created pedastool was celibacy, well, you're fucked. Even if he was the Son of God, God can't fault his son for wanting to get hitched and do the deed we all know and love. Can he? I hope not. I always raised to believe Christ was a virgin, but to be perfectly honest, I dig him even more now with science and history reporting he most likely was not.
Now, let's look at it from a historical perspective. The DaVinci Code perspecitve, some say. When looking at the famous painting of The Last Supper, it has been believed for most of history the portrait displayed Jesus with his Diciples at his side. His all male diciples, that is. However, in recent years via documented historian accounts and the ever-popular The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown, people have support otherwise. In fact, people have stated with great certainty that, in fact, the person sitting to the left of Christ (our right) is a woman. And now, with the breaking news just earlier this morning, we can begin to assume this was not just any woman, but Jesus Christ's spouse. His wife.
Was it Mary Magdalene? Was it another woman undocumented in the Holy Bible? To be honest, I don't know and I really don't care. I'm just psyched. And women should be excited too. At this time in history, Jesus' preachings were focused towards the world, humanity, and people working towards the ultimate goal - the afterlife. Heaven. However, in these times, "the world" really only concerned the dick and balls. Men, to be more politically correct. Mary Magdalene was and is portrayed as a whore; Joseph, Christ's stepfather, allegedly once wanted to divorce the Virgin Mary over her divine pregnancy; the women, who claimed to see Christ rise from the tomb, were discredited and laughed at. Face it ladies (even you God-fearing ones), The New Testament wasn't great to you. But now, THE HOLIEST MAN in that entire book, the Son of God, Jesus Christ, may have been married to one of our great-great-great-great-great (x15) grandmothers. It's fuckin' awesome!
Now, does this speculation do anything to help the Catholic Church recognize homosexual unions as marriage or reduce the rate at which grade school boys are molested by priests? Probably not. However, what it does do is open the door to a difference in opinion. This book that so many fundementally follow may not be 100% accurate (shocker!). So, keep that in mind before you blindly and whole-heartly tell me I'm a blaspheming ass. Even if I am.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Cloud Nothings: Here and Nowhere Else
It's not very often I get all hot and bothered about a new release in the music scene. I support my steady arsenal of bands and definitely support new artists I like, but rarely will a underground band (or artist) come along and simply blow my fucking load. In recent memory, a band that accomplished this feet was a punk group from Philly, The Menzingers. Before The Menzingers, I was tipped off on a little band called Wavves and in my mind they changed surf-rock forever. And even before that, I thought Macklemore was going to change people's perception of a white rapper in underground America; he didn't.
As you can clearly see, anyone can be right or wrong when predicting or fantasizing about their little well-kept secret becoming an even better known little well-kept secret... if that makes any sense. Well, let me tell you that I have found a band that may not seem tiny to their fans and following, but to you, the Top 40 mainstream, Cloud Nothings are the fly on the wall of the new what's next.
I tried writing reviews on this blog some time ago and that just never felt appropriate. I'm not pitching you a sale on Cloud Nothings' newest release, Here and Nowhere Else, I'm simply advising you not to miss out on the Eustachian Tube orgasm. Imagine a faster version of The Whigs combined with The Strokes' frontman Julian Casablancas more strung out than normal. What the boys of Cloud Nothings created is far from perfect and that is what makes it so wonderful. Screaming howls mixed with raspy, soothing vocals laid over what always seems to be a distorted guitar turned up to 11. The dreams beat like a Foo Fighters melody, minus the poppy alternative sound. I can't describe this new album as punk because it's not. However, this is as fringe as a band can get.
And hold on, I don't want to come off as this guy who just realized his dick was hard after his 24th birthday. I came upon these guys recently, but I have no intention of pretending to make the Cloud Nothings seem like a new band. With releases dating back to 2010 this band is far from new, but they have not exactly been around for awhile. This is what gets me so excited about them... Their fuckin' potential, man. Just like when I first heard The Menzingers, Wavves, and Macklemore for the first time, all of these vastly different bands held something in common; potential. Now, in my astute personal opinion, both The Menzingers and Wavves have lived up to this "potential," but I think Cloud Nothings can go above and beyond. Why?
This band really seems to give the littlest amount of shit possible when considering what is going to work. Not that they say fuck off to the fans, it's actually the opposite. Cloud Nothings know they have a fan base that appreciates the grittiness, the distortion, the lack of lyrical comprehension. Each album has delved deeper and deeper into the fringe (my word this week) and with each release the band has gained more traction along the way.
Like I said, it's not punk. I don't think they want it to be punk. It's pretty goddamned close, though. Go check 'em out. And hey, if you don't like Cloud Nothings, it's not like you agree with me on most topics anyway.
Cheers!
As you can clearly see, anyone can be right or wrong when predicting or fantasizing about their little well-kept secret becoming an even better known little well-kept secret... if that makes any sense. Well, let me tell you that I have found a band that may not seem tiny to their fans and following, but to you, the Top 40 mainstream, Cloud Nothings are the fly on the wall of the new what's next.
I tried writing reviews on this blog some time ago and that just never felt appropriate. I'm not pitching you a sale on Cloud Nothings' newest release, Here and Nowhere Else, I'm simply advising you not to miss out on the Eustachian Tube orgasm. Imagine a faster version of The Whigs combined with The Strokes' frontman Julian Casablancas more strung out than normal. What the boys of Cloud Nothings created is far from perfect and that is what makes it so wonderful. Screaming howls mixed with raspy, soothing vocals laid over what always seems to be a distorted guitar turned up to 11. The dreams beat like a Foo Fighters melody, minus the poppy alternative sound. I can't describe this new album as punk because it's not. However, this is as fringe as a band can get.
And hold on, I don't want to come off as this guy who just realized his dick was hard after his 24th birthday. I came upon these guys recently, but I have no intention of pretending to make the Cloud Nothings seem like a new band. With releases dating back to 2010 this band is far from new, but they have not exactly been around for awhile. This is what gets me so excited about them... Their fuckin' potential, man. Just like when I first heard The Menzingers, Wavves, and Macklemore for the first time, all of these vastly different bands held something in common; potential. Now, in my astute personal opinion, both The Menzingers and Wavves have lived up to this "potential," but I think Cloud Nothings can go above and beyond. Why?
This band really seems to give the littlest amount of shit possible when considering what is going to work. Not that they say fuck off to the fans, it's actually the opposite. Cloud Nothings know they have a fan base that appreciates the grittiness, the distortion, the lack of lyrical comprehension. Each album has delved deeper and deeper into the fringe (my word this week) and with each release the band has gained more traction along the way.
Like I said, it's not punk. I don't think they want it to be punk. It's pretty goddamned close, though. Go check 'em out. And hey, if you don't like Cloud Nothings, it's not like you agree with me on most topics anyway.
Cheers!
Saturday, April 5, 2014
This One's for Kurt
For many rockers and Generation Xers, today is one of great grief. To many, April 5, 1994 still feels like yesterday and Kurt Cobain just left. For someone like me, a guy who quit the guitar after a few lessons and was only four when the 27 year old Nirvana front man took his own life, the idea of Kurt is what will last more than any actual memory of him.
Growing up in an affluent part of the Bay Area, the ideals of counter-culture, rebellion, and angst were seldom seen or heard. Catholicism was what surrounded the teachings of my youth and to step out of the preverbal "conformity line" was an unfathomable wrong-doing. Luckily, I had a couple of pretty hip parents who only limited my CD purchases to "anything without a parental advisory." See, the funny thing about that limitation was, any band on an indie label or any band who felt so strongly against parental advisory did not need to sensor themselves. HeHeHe...
By the time I was in the sixth grade I had influences that ranged from extended family members, kids in my class, and, most importantly, the chicks one and two grades above me. Junior high school is the time where you have no fucking clue what you're rebelling against, you're just doing it to hopefully make out with somebody. However, through all the petty bullshit of tee-pee parties and movie theatre sneak-ins, there was one form of rebellion I took quite seriously and has stayed with me until this very day. Music.
Nirvana was heavy shit when I was 12. To be perfectly frank, I was more in tune with trying to borrow a Blink album or buying the New Found Glory catalogue at FYE. I couldn't understand the words in that one song about lights going out and asking to be entertained and I sure didn't turn up the radio in my Dad's car when Kurt would sing the words to "Rape Me." In fact, I imagine most of my friends who within my age group felt the same way. They may not admit it, but many kids were still listening to the Top 20 while a select group of friends I were scratching the surface of the alternative.
As I went through high school and college my musical interests expanded, but I always continued to dive deeper into the alternative rock and roll genre; tapping particularly into punk. It was then I started to notice the names of bands the iconic Nirvana frontman once wore on t-shirts. Black Flag, The Germs, Fugazi, Fear, DOA... All of these bands, while different in sound and geography, had one commonality: fuck off.
And it wasn't just punk, either. Citing major influences such as The Beatles, Neil Young, and Bob Dylan, at the time, this guy Kurt was pretty comfortable with basically saying, "Hey, we're a punk band with a grunge influence, but fuck you if you tell me I can't listen to music outside of my own genre." This value of self expression and lack of care for what people thought about it hit me at an early age.
Don't get too confused, though. Of course I like the music. I would not have looked into who Kurt Cobain was as a person or researched what his influences were if there was not at least a slight attraction to what he was creating. All I am saying is Nirvana, as a band, was not my all-time favorite. Kurt Cobain as a person, however, is someone the world will not ever forget.
Kurt Cobain was the Generation X version of The Beatles or The Rolling Stones or Chuck Barry or NWA. The world not seen someone like him for a long time when he arrived and we have yet to see someone like him since he left us. I would have loved to meet him. I would loved to let him know that his music and persona did not just touch the disenfranchised youth or the punks on the city streets. I would have told him that he inspired kids like me to step outside of the world they knew and face the fact that things are different, but so many people can come together and be the same.
Kurt Cobain was a legend. You don't need to listen to the music to know that. It just helps.
Growing up in an affluent part of the Bay Area, the ideals of counter-culture, rebellion, and angst were seldom seen or heard. Catholicism was what surrounded the teachings of my youth and to step out of the preverbal "conformity line" was an unfathomable wrong-doing. Luckily, I had a couple of pretty hip parents who only limited my CD purchases to "anything without a parental advisory." See, the funny thing about that limitation was, any band on an indie label or any band who felt so strongly against parental advisory did not need to sensor themselves. HeHeHe...
By the time I was in the sixth grade I had influences that ranged from extended family members, kids in my class, and, most importantly, the chicks one and two grades above me. Junior high school is the time where you have no fucking clue what you're rebelling against, you're just doing it to hopefully make out with somebody. However, through all the petty bullshit of tee-pee parties and movie theatre sneak-ins, there was one form of rebellion I took quite seriously and has stayed with me until this very day. Music.
Nirvana was heavy shit when I was 12. To be perfectly frank, I was more in tune with trying to borrow a Blink album or buying the New Found Glory catalogue at FYE. I couldn't understand the words in that one song about lights going out and asking to be entertained and I sure didn't turn up the radio in my Dad's car when Kurt would sing the words to "Rape Me." In fact, I imagine most of my friends who within my age group felt the same way. They may not admit it, but many kids were still listening to the Top 20 while a select group of friends I were scratching the surface of the alternative.
As I went through high school and college my musical interests expanded, but I always continued to dive deeper into the alternative rock and roll genre; tapping particularly into punk. It was then I started to notice the names of bands the iconic Nirvana frontman once wore on t-shirts. Black Flag, The Germs, Fugazi, Fear, DOA... All of these bands, while different in sound and geography, had one commonality: fuck off.
And it wasn't just punk, either. Citing major influences such as The Beatles, Neil Young, and Bob Dylan, at the time, this guy Kurt was pretty comfortable with basically saying, "Hey, we're a punk band with a grunge influence, but fuck you if you tell me I can't listen to music outside of my own genre." This value of self expression and lack of care for what people thought about it hit me at an early age.
Don't get too confused, though. Of course I like the music. I would not have looked into who Kurt Cobain was as a person or researched what his influences were if there was not at least a slight attraction to what he was creating. All I am saying is Nirvana, as a band, was not my all-time favorite. Kurt Cobain as a person, however, is someone the world will not ever forget.
Kurt Cobain was the Generation X version of The Beatles or The Rolling Stones or Chuck Barry or NWA. The world not seen someone like him for a long time when he arrived and we have yet to see someone like him since he left us. I would have loved to meet him. I would loved to let him know that his music and persona did not just touch the disenfranchised youth or the punks on the city streets. I would have told him that he inspired kids like me to step outside of the world they knew and face the fact that things are different, but so many people can come together and be the same.
Kurt Cobain was a legend. You don't need to listen to the music to know that. It just helps.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Y'All Suck
Alright, I had to take a break from my business trip to get this off of my dick. I am in the middle of a conference this morning and we are told, as a collective group, to take a 20 minute break to stretch out our legs and refocus for the rest of the morning. As I step out into the hall I check e-mail, missed calls, unread texts, Twitter, and of course, I tap into Facebook. I am never on The Book long. Usually it's a quick check up on selfie-loving women, "I Think I Know More About Politics Than I Do" friends, and photos of food/quotes. But not even that shit can annoy me anymore!...maybe I subconsciously miss it?
Anyway, all of this narcisism has taken a backseat to some drinking game. Some stupid fucking drinking game where friends slam a 12 oz. of beer and challenge the next friend or group of friends to complete the challenge within 24 hours. The act must be recorded on video, posted on video, and another person must be nominated. This endless cycle of bullshit goes on and on and on until who the fuck knows and every "likes" it before scrolling further down their newsfeed. As most things do in the 21st Century, the game has evolved and kids (who are actually pretending to be young adults during the week) have grown bored of the beer and have opted to creative liquor options i.e. tequilla, bourbon, whiskey, etc.
Let me start by saying this: good for you, bro. You can drink a beer, you can take a shot, you can do whatever it is you do on video...and about 99% of these dipshits thinks it's funny. The other 1% drink regularly, have seen it before, and simply don't give a fuck. Awesome, you were in college. Great, you're still there. Fantastic, you had friends in college and you never graduated. Send a snapchat to all of your bros portraying your tiny, flaccid dick for all I care. Just please, SWEET JESUS, stop putting it out on the public domain. We've seen it, the video sucks, and you make Adele doing porn sound appealing.
You know what's going to happen one of these days? One of these days....... (dramatic effect) ....... One of these kids is going to down way too much liquor and kill themselves. They're not going to be able to post a video, no one will realize they're dead until a roomate or family member gets home, and then all this dick measuring will be put to rest. If a death has yet to happen from this, I'm shocked. And I don't want to sound like some perfect parental figure because you all know very well I am far from that. I'm just saying it's fucking lame. And it would be a fucking lame way to go out. Wouldn't you agree?
Anyway, all of this narcisism has taken a backseat to some drinking game. Some stupid fucking drinking game where friends slam a 12 oz. of beer and challenge the next friend or group of friends to complete the challenge within 24 hours. The act must be recorded on video, posted on video, and another person must be nominated. This endless cycle of bullshit goes on and on and on until who the fuck knows and every "likes" it before scrolling further down their newsfeed. As most things do in the 21st Century, the game has evolved and kids (who are actually pretending to be young adults during the week) have grown bored of the beer and have opted to creative liquor options i.e. tequilla, bourbon, whiskey, etc.
Let me start by saying this: good for you, bro. You can drink a beer, you can take a shot, you can do whatever it is you do on video...and about 99% of these dipshits thinks it's funny. The other 1% drink regularly, have seen it before, and simply don't give a fuck. Awesome, you were in college. Great, you're still there. Fantastic, you had friends in college and you never graduated. Send a snapchat to all of your bros portraying your tiny, flaccid dick for all I care. Just please, SWEET JESUS, stop putting it out on the public domain. We've seen it, the video sucks, and you make Adele doing porn sound appealing.
You know what's going to happen one of these days? One of these days....... (dramatic effect) ....... One of these kids is going to down way too much liquor and kill themselves. They're not going to be able to post a video, no one will realize they're dead until a roomate or family member gets home, and then all this dick measuring will be put to rest. If a death has yet to happen from this, I'm shocked. And I don't want to sound like some perfect parental figure because you all know very well I am far from that. I'm just saying it's fucking lame. And it would be a fucking lame way to go out. Wouldn't you agree?
Friday, February 7, 2014
One Person in this Great, Big, Fat Ass World
Let's pretend for five seconds people give a shit about what other people say. One... Two... Three... Four... Five...
Okay, now that is out of the way, I want to make something clear; something most of you probably already know. We are microcosoms of this great unknown we call the universe. There have been people such as ourselves in the past and their will be clones of our identities in the future. We are born, we live, and we die. That is what happens. I cannot not stop it, you cannot stop it, "God" has planned for it to happen (some say), and at the end of the day, we should be okay with that.
Now, armed with this very basic, very straightforward information that makes all of us feel insignificant and diminutive, hear this: do not let it make you feel this way. So what the average person lives into their 70s? Who gives two shits about how little we are compared to the history and future of this universe? Why the fuck should that stop you from saying what you want and believing what you feel is right?
I know most of the shit I write and tweet and say have to do with meaningless, boring things. However, I would rather leave a mark that made people smile, laugh, cry, and even think rather than keep to myself and move along like the infamous tumbleweed.
Consider this... In the 23 (almost 24, hell yeah) years I have lived on this Earth my worldview has changed immensely. My understanding of human equality has grown, therefore changing my position on gay marriage. Reading-up on current events has become a daily to-do, hence my stance on bringing home troops and fighting wars for moral reasons has only strengthened. SO... amidst all the dick jokes, fuck you's, and girl troubles, I feel like I have molded well in my short, insignificant time here on this Earth.
I am not saying to rearrange your ideals. I do not want you to change with the next wave or season that comes. I just want you to know that if you do look introspectively or happen to feel you have grown in a positive way... that it is noticed. Although you are one out of billions, your experience could have a ripple effect, or a Butterfly Effect (good fucking movie), on someone else and another person and so forth.
The morals and characteristics you call your own make a difference whether you feel they do or not. That's really all.
Happy Friday.
Okay, now that is out of the way, I want to make something clear; something most of you probably already know. We are microcosoms of this great unknown we call the universe. There have been people such as ourselves in the past and their will be clones of our identities in the future. We are born, we live, and we die. That is what happens. I cannot not stop it, you cannot stop it, "God" has planned for it to happen (some say), and at the end of the day, we should be okay with that.
Now, armed with this very basic, very straightforward information that makes all of us feel insignificant and diminutive, hear this: do not let it make you feel this way. So what the average person lives into their 70s? Who gives two shits about how little we are compared to the history and future of this universe? Why the fuck should that stop you from saying what you want and believing what you feel is right?
I know most of the shit I write and tweet and say have to do with meaningless, boring things. However, I would rather leave a mark that made people smile, laugh, cry, and even think rather than keep to myself and move along like the infamous tumbleweed.
Consider this... In the 23 (almost 24, hell yeah) years I have lived on this Earth my worldview has changed immensely. My understanding of human equality has grown, therefore changing my position on gay marriage. Reading-up on current events has become a daily to-do, hence my stance on bringing home troops and fighting wars for moral reasons has only strengthened. SO... amidst all the dick jokes, fuck you's, and girl troubles, I feel like I have molded well in my short, insignificant time here on this Earth.
I am not saying to rearrange your ideals. I do not want you to change with the next wave or season that comes. I just want you to know that if you do look introspectively or happen to feel you have grown in a positive way... that it is noticed. Although you are one out of billions, your experience could have a ripple effect, or a Butterfly Effect (good fucking movie), on someone else and another person and so forth.
The morals and characteristics you call your own make a difference whether you feel they do or not. That's really all.
Happy Friday.
Monday, January 6, 2014
I Met Jonathan Martin and All I Got was this Crappy Blog Post
Over this past weekend I was out having some drinks with some friends - shocker - and we were visiting one of the local spots in Palo Alto. The Patio. Now, I don't wear v-necks, I don't have a six pack, and I don't tend to chase girls who are falling down drunk so there isn't usually too high an interest for a guy like me to be in a place like that. However, I had recently been there on New Year's Day to watch the Rose Bowl, had a fucking blasty blast, and decided to pay a visit to this steriod-looking, guido-filled establishment. I've recently given up hard alcohol and quit smoking around the same time (New Year's...for good reason, trust me) so I was actually able to take in the scene of the bar without stepping outside or forgetting I was there. In about an hour's time the spit-shine had worn off, my buzz faded, and my urge to backhand the DJ rose so my friends and I decided to pack it in and head home.
On the way out of the bar, my good friend Barry looked around me and all I heard was, "Holy shit, that's Jonathan Martin." I obviously looked at Barry like he was from The Hills Have Eyes and he had three fucking heads, but sure as shit, God as my witness, I turned around and there he was. I'll be damned, Jonathan Martin. Okay, for those who find sports to be a facist aspect of our society or for the ones who literally woke up yesterday, Jonathan Martin was an offensive lineman for the Miami Dolphins (formerly of Stanford Cardinal fame; hence being in Palo Alto) and abruply left his team earlier this season due to mental (and arguably physical) harassment from his teammates. The leader of the accused, Richie Incognito, was suspended from the team indefintely and reports have yet to surface as to he will return to his team at some point or not. The story gained National attention for about a month and was not only aired on ESPN, but reached coverage from CNN, MSNBC, FOX, NPR, and almost evey other major and minor news source on planet Earth. Bullying was as hot a topic as it has ever been on the TV and the secret society that once was the "NFL Lockeroom" had now been exposed. However, after one public statement from Jonathan Martin the story seemed to just jump off the airwaves. The Dolphins missed the playoffs, people moved on to bigger and more important stories, and the sports world at large chose to look onward until another piece of the story came forward.
Hoepfully that recap was suitable. Martin looked very much like a victim, Incognito like a villian, and aside from a few teammates actually defending Incognito I felt Incognito was the one who deserved blame. However, I'm not here to talk good guy, bad guy thankfully; I'm herer to talk about a Saturday night in Palo Alto when I met Jonathan Martin.
So, where was I? Oh yes. Barry notices Martin, I turn and notice the dude as well. Let me start by saying this, NFL offensive linemen are fucking barbaric looking creatures. I don't think I have been that close to a professional lineman like that before. I've seen NLF players - receivers, backs, corners - but that was a first for me. I was literally taken aback. Martin walks by me, Barry, my friend Dan, a few girls (yes!), and heads to the bar. He orders something I couldn't make out, turns back toward us, and as we all look on, he walks our way and announces, "Yeah, it's me."
***Trigger sound of screeching tires, traffic halting, and horns blaring***
Yeah, it's me. Yeah, it's me? I didn't know if I had heard him correctly. Yeah, it's me. No smile, no smirk, no "yeah, it's me, but I don't mean that the way I just said it" look. Yeah, it's me. Oh, thanks for confirmation. I wanted to double check since I have my fucking sharpie and #66 Martin Miami Dolphin's jersey tucked in my jock here, bro. I think I initially laughed, but it was a laugh out pure suprise. I know it's you. I just saw your face on the cover of USA Today and on ESPN every day for about month, man. What are you doing here?
Let me be extremely clear... I don't ask "what are you doing here?" because I expect the guy to know his role and stay out of the public eye for fear of ridicule; on the contrary. I ask the question because a sports bar is the last place I would go...personally. 90% of The Patio knew who he was, asked him about his situation, tried to take a picture, and were generally stunned to see this guy out. Like I said, we all knew it was him. Why does he drop the "Yeah, it's me" line? Does he actually think that story and scene they put on in Miami is going to propel him into some sort of lime-light? Let's just say this, I hope those 15 minutes have been used up already. And, as I said, the bullying seemed a bit excessive and I felt for the guy. But, good Lord, don't use that story as a stepping-stool and feel free to drop "Yeah, it's me" at The Patio in Palo Alto.
I'm a nobody and I can confirm that is not okay. Use the experience to motivate you, to stand up for something that's wrong; don't use it as a fuckin' Lotto scratcher of cheap fame. That's far worse than being on ESPN everyday. I can deal with this story potentially dragging out over the course of months to come on cable television, but don't remind me it's you while I'm asking a girl "How much does a polar bear weigh?"
I hope you all had a happy New Year and look forward to working out for the first two months of 2014.
On the way out of the bar, my good friend Barry looked around me and all I heard was, "Holy shit, that's Jonathan Martin." I obviously looked at Barry like he was from The Hills Have Eyes and he had three fucking heads, but sure as shit, God as my witness, I turned around and there he was. I'll be damned, Jonathan Martin. Okay, for those who find sports to be a facist aspect of our society or for the ones who literally woke up yesterday, Jonathan Martin was an offensive lineman for the Miami Dolphins (formerly of Stanford Cardinal fame; hence being in Palo Alto) and abruply left his team earlier this season due to mental (and arguably physical) harassment from his teammates. The leader of the accused, Richie Incognito, was suspended from the team indefintely and reports have yet to surface as to he will return to his team at some point or not. The story gained National attention for about a month and was not only aired on ESPN, but reached coverage from CNN, MSNBC, FOX, NPR, and almost evey other major and minor news source on planet Earth. Bullying was as hot a topic as it has ever been on the TV and the secret society that once was the "NFL Lockeroom" had now been exposed. However, after one public statement from Jonathan Martin the story seemed to just jump off the airwaves. The Dolphins missed the playoffs, people moved on to bigger and more important stories, and the sports world at large chose to look onward until another piece of the story came forward.
Hoepfully that recap was suitable. Martin looked very much like a victim, Incognito like a villian, and aside from a few teammates actually defending Incognito I felt Incognito was the one who deserved blame. However, I'm not here to talk good guy, bad guy thankfully; I'm herer to talk about a Saturday night in Palo Alto when I met Jonathan Martin.
So, where was I? Oh yes. Barry notices Martin, I turn and notice the dude as well. Let me start by saying this, NFL offensive linemen are fucking barbaric looking creatures. I don't think I have been that close to a professional lineman like that before. I've seen NLF players - receivers, backs, corners - but that was a first for me. I was literally taken aback. Martin walks by me, Barry, my friend Dan, a few girls (yes!), and heads to the bar. He orders something I couldn't make out, turns back toward us, and as we all look on, he walks our way and announces, "Yeah, it's me."
***Trigger sound of screeching tires, traffic halting, and horns blaring***
Yeah, it's me. Yeah, it's me? I didn't know if I had heard him correctly. Yeah, it's me. No smile, no smirk, no "yeah, it's me, but I don't mean that the way I just said it" look. Yeah, it's me. Oh, thanks for confirmation. I wanted to double check since I have my fucking sharpie and #66 Martin Miami Dolphin's jersey tucked in my jock here, bro. I think I initially laughed, but it was a laugh out pure suprise. I know it's you. I just saw your face on the cover of USA Today and on ESPN every day for about month, man. What are you doing here?
Let me be extremely clear... I don't ask "what are you doing here?" because I expect the guy to know his role and stay out of the public eye for fear of ridicule; on the contrary. I ask the question because a sports bar is the last place I would go...personally. 90% of The Patio knew who he was, asked him about his situation, tried to take a picture, and were generally stunned to see this guy out. Like I said, we all knew it was him. Why does he drop the "Yeah, it's me" line? Does he actually think that story and scene they put on in Miami is going to propel him into some sort of lime-light? Let's just say this, I hope those 15 minutes have been used up already. And, as I said, the bullying seemed a bit excessive and I felt for the guy. But, good Lord, don't use that story as a stepping-stool and feel free to drop "Yeah, it's me" at The Patio in Palo Alto.
I'm a nobody and I can confirm that is not okay. Use the experience to motivate you, to stand up for something that's wrong; don't use it as a fuckin' Lotto scratcher of cheap fame. That's far worse than being on ESPN everyday. I can deal with this story potentially dragging out over the course of months to come on cable television, but don't remind me it's you while I'm asking a girl "How much does a polar bear weigh?"
I hope you all had a happy New Year and look forward to working out for the first two months of 2014.
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