July 5, 2006
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| Cheap Seats The recent cancellation of Arrested Development has left the ESPNClassic network as the unlikely owner of the funniest show on television. Cheap Seats, which airs on ESPNC at 11:30 p.m. every weeknight, is essentially Mystery Science Theater 3000 with old sporting events replacing B-movies. The show's "hosts"—brothers Randy and Jason Sklar—park their asses on a basement couch and screen events ranging from "Steve Garvey Celebrity Fishing," to "Superdogs and Superjocks" to roller derby and even the old prime-time specials featuring Evel Knievel jumping over Mack trucks or buses or canyons or … well, it never really mattered. People just watched because they were aired live and the chances of death and catastrophe loomed large. The brothers even go so far as to mercilessly denigrate contestants in the National Spelling Bee. The kids are in middle school, for chrissakes! Nonetheless, the Sklars' commentary is spot-on, and killer one-liners are delivered in rapid-fire succession. From a comment about a World Series of Poker player's fashion sense—"Those pants are so high and tight that Roger Clemens just threw them at Mike Piazza"—to a remark about a dog-show judge's coif—"That hair is higher than Redman in Amsterdam"—the Sklars masterfully inject some brilliantly perceptive and delightfully obscure pop culture references into the mix. The result is pure comic platinum.
The Herbaliser With What What? (aka Jean Grae) I'm fully aware she's been the reigning darling of the Roots crew for quite some time now, and her solo releases are virtual staples in any respectable underground hip-hop collection, but Jean Grae just ain't what she used to be. I used to hold fast to the Rakim rule, which stated that no one—but no one—could rival Erik B's MC partner as far as the spits and lyricism were concerned. Enter Jean Grae (aka What What?) to the mix and suddenly nothing is sacred. Following her time with the upstart Natural Resource crew, What What? (her original MC tag) dropped some science over crazy ethereal beats from the Herbaliser, the nom-de-1200s of a British duo who just may be the Kruder and Dorfmeister of intelli-hip-hop. What What? provided the vocal artillery on precisely three tracks on the Herbaliser's heady 1997 release Blow Your Headphones, and those tracks rank as some of the hottest shit around, period. Featuring such lines as, "Got my verbs, nouns and adjectives in perfect form/ Rainin' over MCs like a linguistical storm," What What? brings intelligent spits to a new level. Unfortunately time seems to have taken quite a toll on the young spitstress, and along with a change in stage name seems to have come a change in attitude and approach. For instance, in Headphones' "Bring It," the then-20-year-old What What? bragged she "can deliver whole songs with no cusses, sendin' rappers on their way like '60s segregated buses." Compare that to her more recent "Hater's Anthem," which features the oh-so-tasteful usage of the word faggot within the track's first four seconds, followed by a chorus of repetitive fuck-yous. I'm not trying to sound like your grandmother here (and yes, I understand the biting sarcasm of "Hater's Anthem," thankyouverymuch), I'm just saying the girl was crazy-good with the Herbaliser back in the day when she wasn't so concerned about posing and coming off as hard. She's a natural lyrical vixen with enough raw talent to become a shining star in the socially conscious hip-hop realm. Here's hoping she embraces that role instead of pandering for commercial recognition. The Black Eyed Peas have that market cornered anyway.
Trader Joe's Carne Asada Before I even get into this one, allow me to dispense with the formalities and divulge that I currently work part-time at Trader Joe's. Regardless, this stuff is just too damn good not to mention here. Carne asada (grilled meat) is, in layman's terms, a butterflied sirloin steak drenched in a Southwestern-style marinade. If you throw this stuff on the grill for 10 minutes a side and then slice the pieces into thin strips, you're left with some seriously decadent fajita fillings. While I've found the fajita angle to be the most fitting use of the carne asada, I can also highly recommend its addition to the brunch plate on a piece of pan-fried toast with some eggs on the side. Hell, I could go on and on about this, but I just saw a commercial pimping Taco Bell's new carne asada burritos. Great. Always a day late and a dollar short, I am.
Pom Blackberry Tea Granted, it's roughly $3 a bottle wherever you can find it (or two-fer-$3 at Genuardi's—damn, Trader Joe's should be pimpin' this shit, but hard!)—but the elixir is heavenly and the stuff comes in a glass with a pressure-pop lid. Oh, snap! The possibilities here are endless, kids. Repatriate your entire "guest glass" section with a Pom carapace collection, or—perhaps more fittingly—rescue a few Pom husks to act as cocktail mixers. These babies scream for blood orange screwdrivers, already. Nonetheless, if'n you're still wonderin' … yes, the labels peel off easily. It's Ikea and Orange Julius rolled up in one.
The Wagon Alcohol and I go way back. We've been the best of friends for more than 10 years now. We've stuck together through breakups, unemployment, depression … the whole shebang, ya know? It never really occurred to me that the one constant in my life should be the odds-on favorite as the cause of most of that strife. Until now. I've decided it's finally time to hang up my mug and retire my barstool 'round these parts, and I'm calling out all of Philly to be my sober network. Apparently the threats of job loss, depression and loneliness were never enough to curb my habit, so I'm adding the potential for public humiliation to that list. I'm well aware that making such a public decree about such a private matter opens me to scrutiny and judgment, but I'm willing to take that risk. Just knowing that a strong percentage of my friends, colleagues and acquaintances will eventually read or hear about this strangely hardens my resolve to stay dry. While many of them will be somewhat surprised at this turn of events, I'm guessing most will understand and several will just smile and nod knowingly. Much like those old Evel Knievel features, this is a situation rife with the possibility of debilitating failure. Will I rise to the occasion, as Evel did at the L.A. Coliseum? Or fall short and plunge into the abyss, as he did at Snake River Canyon? Only time will tell, but whatever happens, please don't compare this to any David Blaine bullshit. That stuff ain't real. | ||||||
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