Yaz Fans Are Stupid Poseurs

The week before last was a great week of concert-going for me. The wife and I saw Robyn Hitchcock out in Ridgewood, NJ on Saturday and then I saw him again on Tuesday and Wednesday. Great shows, and I met some great people there, fellow music/Robyn geeks like me. I am trying to write something about those nights in a different format than my blog, that's why I haven't gushed over those shows here. I'll let you know if something comes of it.

The week was rounded out by my wife and I going to see Yaz on Thursday and then the Broadway show Passing Strange on Saturday night, which was pretty much like going to a rock concert.

We were really looking forward to the Yaz show. Alison Moyet and Vince Clarke only made two albums as Yaz before breaking up and going on to a solo career (Moyet) and forming Erasure (Clarke) so we never got to see them live back in the day. They are doing a short reunion tour so there was no chance we would miss it.

And it was a really good show. Alison Moyet's voice sounds as good as it ever did and since it is electro-pop Vince can't really fuck up playing the music. You don't really screw up a chord or anything when you are playing a pre-programed computer.

To be able to see a group that was such a huge part of the soundtrack of my youth was just so awesome in an 80s tubular kind of way. I which I could say the same about the crowd.

I really expected that the audience would just be a bunch of middle-aged ex-dance club kids from the 80s, and while they were certainly represented, it was not the bulk of the crowd. I couldn't believe how many scenesters were infesting the crappy space known as Terminal 5.

(If you haven't been to Terminal 5, it looks like a three-tiered prison block or something out of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome. They also only open one exit when the concert is over and it can take 25 minutes just to get out even though they have doors on all sides of the space)

Normally when I'm in a place filled with gay boys I'm having a good time because I always have a good time hangin' with the gays. Unfortunately, Terminal 5 was full of a bunch of Chelsea poseurs and their fag hags who were more interested in being noticed at the show than actually listening to it. The first sign we were in trouble was the fact that so many people were screaming the lyrics as loud as they could, seemingly trying to prove they knew the words more than the next guy. If they weren't singing they were turning to their friend and talking really loud, right in the middle of the song.

At one point Yaz brought the mood down for one of their softer, lesser known songs. Winter Kills is a number that really lets Moyet show off her powerful voice and she was kicking ass singing it. Yet at least half the crowd was talking at that point. I mean really talking. If you had walked in to the show not knowing who they were, you would have sworn it was the opening band. You know what I'm talking about, an unknown - or not so good - opening band is on the stage and the place basically sounds like a bar with music playing in the background. That's what it was like. During the band that everyone there paid 65 bucks to see!

And then there were the pictures. Good fucking lord, people would not stop taking pictures. There was a girl right by us that took several pictures during every single song. I'm talking an average of at least ten shots during every number. Some people were even posing in front of the cameras, so it would be a picture of them at the Yaz show.

It seemed like so many people were there to be seen instead of listen to a great music group (I'm loathe to use the word "band" since it is just a guy with a computer, not that there is anything wrong with that). I wish they would have stayed at Polly Esther's Culture Club where they belong.

I'm willing to bet that these annoying ass holes can't name half of the songs played that night.

But hey, at least they have about a hundred pictures of a singer standing in front of a microphone. Whatever that's worth.

Damn hipsters sure know how to ruin a good time.

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Monday Hate - Fashion Edition

For this week's hate list I decided to go with a fashion theme. Here are things that people wear that I find utterly annoying.


Baseball caps with the little gold sticker still attached. Have you seen this? Every hip-hopper-wannabe leaves this sticker, which is nothing more than the authentication tag, on the the bill of the hat. It has got to be the stupidest looking thing since wearing your waistband around your knees.

Hey hip-hop guys, you know this has been done before right, wearing a hat with the tag still attached? Her name was Minnie Pearl. So way to go, great fashion trend you're following there.

Izod-type shirts with the collars turned up. This is really common here on the Upper East Side of Manhattan, where Yuppie culture has seemed to survive. I will see these guys wearing shorts, deck shoes without socks, Top Gun-style sunglasses on top of their heads and these shirts with upturned collars, often in the most ugly pink and/or green color.

I guess I didn't get the memo that we leaped back to 1986. Seriously, you Yuppies need to get a new look. The whole James Spader from Pretty In Pink thing is maybe a little outdated, don't ya think?

Shorts with a belt and a tucked-in t-shirt. Really? You think this is a good look for you? Look, either dress up or don't dress up. But don't think just because you tuck in your "Alpha Omega Rush Week '98" shirt that you are dressed nice. By the way, leaving the shirt un-tucked would go a lot farther in covering up your middle-aged gut.

Men with gold chains. I know you think it makes you look tough, but it really just makes you look like a dork.

A shirt proclaiming to be "The World's Best" or the "#1" Dad/Mom/Grandma/Grandpa or anything like that. How many of those do you think were given to anyone by an actual kid? I would bet zero.

This new trend of women wearing outfits that look like maternity clothes. How the hell is a guy supposed to know if he should offer his seat to a young lady on the subway if you can't tell the difference between the pregnant women and the fashionable ones? It's madness, I tell you! Madness!

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If It's Monday, I Must Be Hating

I'm in a good mood this week, so I think this list will be kind of short. But I can always think of something that is bugging me....


Diplomat drivers. Walk around anywhere close to the U.N. building and you'll see that pretty much every fire hydrant has a car parked in front of it. Then look at the license plates to those cars and you'll see that they all have diplomatic plates. Then when they almost drive you down in a crosswalk and yell at you like it's your fault, you'll be blogging about it on Monday. Ass holes.

Broadway houses. Pay in excess of 100 bucks to be shoved into an old, run down theatre with no lobby space, an inadequate number of bathrooms, seats that are the perfect size for a person four feet tall and get treated like shit by the house manager. Let the good times roll!

Manhattan on a hot and muggy July afternoon. I know I've said it before, but it bears repeating.

Though this caused me to find something I love more than life itself - a mango slush in Chinatown. So it turned out to be not so bad of a day.

I know I'm breaking my own hate-blog rules with that last one. I told you I was in a good mood.

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Bimbos On A Plane!

A couple of Wednesday afternoons ago I was at the San Antonio airport waiting to catch my flight home from the conference I was attending. When I booked my ticket months earlier it I didn't even think about the fact that I would be traveling two day before the 4th of July weekend. Needless to say, the airport was a zoo.

As we got closer to boarding time they announced that the flight was overbooked and asked for volunteers to be bumped. I jumped at the chance for some free airfare. When they first announced it they said the credit would be $350, but by the time I got up there they had raised it to $500 to entice more people. They could not get me on another flight to New York that day, but could get me out the next morning and put me up in a hotel that night as well as buy me dinner. Oh, and the only seats available on those flights were in first class.

Pretty much a no-brainer.

So I spent my night at the airport Hilton and watched the Rays beat the Yankees on the big screen at the hotel bar. A good day all the way around.

Up early the next morning for my flight to Houston where I would change for the flight to Laguardia. First flight was uneventful and we were only in the air for 38 minutes. I was sitting on the aisle in the first row, so for the first time in my life I was actually the very first person off of a plane. It was kind of weird.

After about an hour-long wait in Houston I boarded my New York-bound plane. This time I was in the fourth row. I was sitting there reading my book when the person with the seat assignment next to me showed up. It was this woman wearing pink sweatpants and sweatshirt carrying two big purse-like bags and a tiger-pattern fur blanket. She was all a fluster when she squeezed into the window seat and plopped her stuff on the floor.

She had long straight dyed-blonde hair, skin that spent way too much time in the sun and too much makeup on her face. As she squeezed by me I could see that she had her pink sweatpants pulled up as tight as they would go to make sure the complete outline of her ass was there for everyone to see. One would presume, though I didn't not see, that she must have also had quite a cameltoe going. When she took off her sweatshirt, I noticed she had on a black t-shirt with large, graffiti-like letters on it. I was afraid to look, knowing that it was going to say something like "porn star," "bitch," "slut" or "juicy" on it.

It turned out to be "juicy."

She was talking over people's heads to another blond in the second row, it seemed there was a group of them travelling together who didn't get seats next to one another. The one in the second row had gotten on the plane before the one next to me and had actually walked down the plane looking for her seat before finally coming back and finding the right aisle. Seriously, I know that those signs with the row numbers can be small, but if you are in row #2 and get lost you are a major idiot.

So they close the door and make all the usual announcements about turning off electronic devices, stowing your crap, putting your seat up and fastening your belt tight across your lap. This is when the bimbo pulls out her iPod, turns it on, pops the headphones in her ear, puts her seat back and loosens her belt so she can turn to lay sideways. Neither of her bags were under the seat, just on the floor at her feet.

After we took off, and were told we could use our electronic devices, I put my headphones on and kept reading. Soon after, the girl decided to talk to me.

"Did they say we could get up yet."
"Well, the seat belt light is still on, so I don't think so," I answered.
"I really need to pee," she said.

Like I cared. What I wanted to say to her was, "You haven't actually followed any of the rules since you got on the plane, so why do you care now?"

But I resisted.

I thought that would be the end of it but she decided, for some unknown reason, to try to make small talk with me. She asked me if I was from Texas or New York, why I was in Texas, what I did for a living, blah, blah, blah...

I gave her the shortest answers I could and didn't ask her anything, assuming she was just a trust-fund baby from Texas. And I didn't care.

She asked me about the Hamptons, she and her friends had rented a house out there for the weekend. Specifically, she wanted to know if people were nice there or shitty New Yorkers, asking me to compare it to South Beach in Miami or L.A., her example of awesome places to hang out.

I said something like, "Well, people are just as shallow in the Hamptons as those other places, so you'll probably like it."

I was fully prepared for a slap to the face, but it would have been worth it.

She didn't even get what I said. She actually seemed relieved and said, "cool!"

One thing I should mention. This chick was not around 18 or 20 as the pulled tight pink pants, "juicy" shirt, bleached hair and general air-headedness would lead you to believe. No, this as somebody who looked to be about her late 30s. She could have possibly been in her early 30s and just aged badly due to the tanning and the cigarettes, but still.

I hated these kind of bimbos when I was in my 20s and they only get more and more annoying as I get older

I'm always happy to come home to my wife when I'm away, but I've never been more appreciative of the woman who puts up with living with me after that encounter.

But I'm also reminded how hard it is for women. For every step forward taken for womankind by professional, smart, educated and hardworking women like my wife, there are narcissistic boy-toy bimbos taking them two steps back.

And I know it's not even the bimbos' fault. It's the fault of the too many men who prefer the dumb slut over the smart, accomplished woman. If it wasn't for those jackasses there would be a lot less bimbos in the world.

And I wouldn't have to be so annoyed when I fly.

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Another Day, Another Hate List

What am I hating this week? I'm glad you asked...



Joe Torre. Have you seen this stupid commercial he made for an insurance company? Look, I get it, he moved from New York to L.A., from a city where a lot of people get around on foot and public transportation to one where everyone drives. So along with all of the other silly stereotypes (doing yoga, writing a screenplay, etc.) he portrays in the ad, he also refers to his new life of "driving."

OK, here's the thing. Joe Torre lived in Westchester when he managed the Yankees and he drove to the park every day in one of his expensive cars. This idea that Torre was taking the subway to the park, or anywhere else for that matter, is just dumb. Every photo or video clip in of him arriving or leaving anywhere is always him in his car. I'm willing to bet that he hasn't been on the New York public transportation system in over 30 years.

Jim Carrey. Most of the time I've been a big supporter of this guy. He has been the most outspoken American celebrity on an issue that is very important to me, freedom for Aung San Suu Kyi and the liberation of Burma from the stranglehold of the illegal military junta.

But now he's shacked up with that dumb bimbo, ex-Playboy model and god-awful "writer" Jenny McCarthy. So now he has jumped on her silly "I know vaccines cause Autism despite the total lack of any actual evidence" bandwagon.

Look Jim, I know those breast implants must be a real comfortable place to rest your head every night. But just because you're sticking your dick in that skanky snatch doesn't mean you have to drink the Kool-Aid and believe her bat-shit crazy nonsense.

TMZ. Do these guys have a life? How pathetic must your existence be if you make your living by showing video of Henry Winkler getting off of a plane, Tom Hanks eating in a restaurant and making fun of female celebrities for being 5 pounds heavier than they were last summer; and calling them fat when you have a bigger gut and ass than them.. The guy who started this brain-dead organization apparently used to be a lawyer, which I guess wasn't bottom-feeding enough for him. (Apologies to my friend Megan, who does good with her law degree)

I didn't think it was possible for there to be anything dumber than People Magazine. I was wrong.

Lou Dobbs. I don't even know where to begin with this xenophobic, racist, bloviating prick. I accidentally saw five minutes of his show yesterday and I almost had an aneurysm. He claimed that Obama was an "elitist" (every person who I've heard make this charge against Obama is a millionaire member of the bourgeois) for suggesting that it would be a good idea for American schoolkids to learn a foreign language. Dobbs would prefer that our population remain uneducated and unworldly hicks. Hey Lou, how's that worked out with our country being led by one of those types for the last 7-1/2 years?

I'd like to see that ass get beat to death with a garden hoe wielded by one of the immigrants who does his lawn.

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Monday Hate

Too much kindness was being heaped on me last week at a conference, but I'm back in a hateful mood once again. Here's what I'm hating this week:

People who say "They're in a better place" after someone dies. Really? Exactly how the fuck would you know, you've been? I can't imagine anything more rude and hateful to say to a loved one than telling them that their kid/parent/spouse/etc. is better off dead than being with them.

Wolf Blitzer. Of all the hack journalists out there he has got to be the hackiest. (Non-FOX News category)

Jury duty. Don't get me wrong, I like the idea of the democracy and civic responsibility of jury duty. But I had to spend my whole morning in the jury pool waiting area of the New York State Civic Courthouse. And their free wi-fi blocked me from writing my blog. I didn't get picked for a jury selection room, but I still have to go back tomorrow. Sucks.

Trying to find a dentist. I just have to pick out a name from the list my insurance company provides. Jeez, I don't even go to a restaurant based just on the name.

Girls who wear t-shirts with phrases like "Juicy," "Porn Star" or "Slut" written across the front. There are parents out there who need to be kicked in the face.

Also, pants with anything written across the ass. I don't care if it says "Valedictorian," you look like a moron with writing across your ass.

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Gone To San Antone

Sorry for the long break in posts, and missing my Monday hate list last week. I was in San Antonio for a conference. I was really looking forward to the conference itself but not necessarily spending about five days in the Texas summer heat. But I had a pretty good time in general.

I spent most of my time in conference stuff, of course. But here are the few things I learned while hanging out in San Antonio:

I had low expectations about it, but the River Walk is absolutely fantastic! Every city in the country should have something like this. Sure, there are sections that have the stupid chain restaurants like the Hard Rock Cafe and the utterly annoying Dick's Last Resort, but for the most part there are some great local bars and restaurants to be found. And best of all, you can walk around all day long and not have to even see a car or cross a street.

Alamo Amber Ale is a much better Texas brew than Lone Star Beer.

Texas Lemonade, though it looks like anti-freeze, is a very tasty cocktail.

Margaritas taste better in Texas.

The sun does cook you in the summertime down there. Finding shade is a constant objective.

As much as you may love it, and I do, Tex-Mex food can get really old when you have it for three meals a day, several days in a row.

There is one vegetarian restaurant in the whole city.

Seeing all the interesting things there are to see in San Antonio takes about a day. Maybe half a day.

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