As Chick Hearn might say, the refrigerator door’s closed and the Jell-O Shots are jiggling. At the official BASG apartment (or as I sometimes like to call it, The Epicenter), we’re ready for Super Bowl XLIII. Well, ready to go to a friend’s house for a Super Bowl party, anyway. If you haven’t heard, it just isn’t cool to host on Super Bowl Sunday when your TV is an old-school 27″ Panasonic. That’s right, still no Hi-Def. And somehow, life still goes on.
But if you don’t mind, I’d like to diverge into non-sports territory for a little bit. I’ll be honest, one of the reasons we don’t have a 42″ LCD sitting in the living room is I’m unemployed. That’s right, my name is the BASG, and I am one of those millions of people looking for work with about as much success as Marcus Williams does getting off the bench for a full minute.
Now that we got that settled, not having a set task to do for 40-60 hours of week has its advantages. Sure, the money isn’t great, but at least I don’t live in the Midwest, where huge areas are going to be without electricity until mid-February and the temps are below freezing all day and night. Around here it’s been sunny and mid-60’s pretty much since Christmas, and I get to do things like ride across the Golden Gate Bridge and down to the Marin Headlands, as I did yesterday.
No Demi Moore run-ins, and I’m guessing/hoping my cougar encounter months ago was something that won’t happen again. Good thing, since I’m pretty sure a mountain lion could kick my ass. Mind you, I took Jujitsu until sixth grade and made it to third-degree Blue Belt (which means I’m pretty much four tribal tattoos away from being an Ultimate Fighter). My problem is I missed the class when Sensei taught us how to defend cougar attacks to the jugular. I’m pretty sure there was an important episode of Thundercats on that afternoon after school, so it’s quite possible I told my mom I had a sore throat and wasn’t feeling well enough to do pushups and pretend to learn martial arts.
(A sort throat is the absolute best illness to fake when you’re a kid – my mom was always sure I was going to get strep throat, and each time she’d look at my throat and say, “Ooh, it looks red” and let me stay home…even though everyone’s throat is red…of course I had so many real and fake bouts with the strep that I ended up getting my tonsils removed, which definitely wasn’t worth it. The pain of a tonsillectomy is roughly 48 times worse than getting your wisdom teeth out.)
Sean Penn’s “Milk” makes you forget what a blowhard he is in real life
After the bike ride and an amazing meal at A16 thanks to SGL’s mom (if you like thin crust pizza and meatballs, don’t even think twice…go…you would never believe they were made out of chicken…ridiculously good gelato as well), we went and saw “Milk.”
(And yes, I know I missed the Warriors somehow winning 91-87 in New Orleans. Just goes to show you, when the opposition is missing their starting power forward and center, the Warriors are a dangerous squad.)
I loved “Slumdog Millionaire,” and I still think due to the entire package “Slumdog” provides and the uniqueness of Danny Boyle’s direction it deserves to win the Oscar for Best Picture. But “Milk” is right there. It’s not as original as “Slumdog,” but for somebody who lives in San Francisco it’s required viewing and Sean Penn is unbelievable.
Now I HAVE to watch “The Wrestler” to see how Mickey Rourke’s performance could possibly have been in the
same league. I’m not saying it’s impossible, but surpassing Penn this year is a tough order. Here’s how good Penn was: it took me until now to remember Penn was the guy who got his panties in a bunch over Chris Rock making fun of Jude Law during the Academy Awards, back when Law really did take every role available. After hearing Penn utter the words, “One of our great actors” regarding Law I wondered if I’d ever appreciate Spicoli again, but Penn actually IS one of our great actors. Law on the other hand…meh.
Sort of) new rap that’s actually good
Just picked up “Bake Sale,” the album from The Cool Kids, and it’s nice to finally have some new rap to listen to. I haven’t exactly jumped on the Lil’ Wayne bandwagon with both feet, and as time has gone on I’ve been less and less willing to pick up albums based on speculation, or even go around searching for songs to download for free.
The Cool Kids were at the NBA 2K9 party I attended in New York a few months ago, and their six-song set was impressive, headlined by “2K Pennies,” the song from the game (one I wish was included on “Bake Sale,” but oh well). I’ve known about them for a while, partly because I’d heard their songs and also because my friend Dave has a Cool Kids t-shirt that has to be one of the ugliest shirts I’ve ever seen (don’t worry, the shirt still has its charm and Dave doesn’t read the site anyway since he isn’t a sports fan – he’s one of those guys who probably thinks the Arizona Cardinals’ best player is Mark McGwire).
The Cool Kids are a combination of Clipse and The Beastie Boys. Like Clipse they’re a duo who prefers spare beats, but instead of rapping predominantly about selling cocaine they keep it decidedly non-gangster. I’ve already counted multiple references to eating cereal, grocery shopping, the NBA and old school stars like LL Cool J and Rob Base. Like bike rides in The City and good meatballs, The Cool Kids are pretty hard not to like.
Alright, since I won’t be home tomorrow and Jell-O shots will be as prevalent as guacamole and buffalo wings, I probably won’t be posting tomorrow directly after the Super Bowl. For everyone out there, good luck on your Super Bowl Square pools, drive safely (or not at all) and go Cardinals. Remember Mr. Warner, the 49ers’ legacy is in your hands. Oh, and a berth in the Pro Football Hall-of-Fame too, but that’s nowhere near as important.