Bronx, NY – Though I returned to Metropolitan terra firma late Monday afternoon, I am not exactly back in the New York groove that Ace Frehley likes to warble about… at least not just yet. For starters, me and the family clambered into an air-condtionless taxi at LaGuardia and I was immediately bombarded with a local NBS news crawl that included such storylines as: Girl, 12, shot as youth event turns violent; 7-year-old girl talks about recovery from elevator stabbing; and Bed Bugs found on another subway, 4th sighting this week. Whoever said “there’s no such thing as bad publicity” has never been to the Big Apple. In any event, I need to get back into NYC fighting shape and fast. Almost three weeks in the Sunshine State have taken their toll. I’m as tan, bloated, and disoriented as a banana hammock-wearing, metal detector-toting senior citizen on Miami Beach. At this point it’s best to take on anything and everything, head-on. I need to psych myself up, so let’s start with some music.
Turn Down for What. I jumped the popular culture shark way back when jilted bachelorettes, pregnant teens, and Kardashians started dominating the covers of People, Us Magazine, and the like, so it’s no surprise that I was completely oblivious to this fantastic video that’s been out since March and is for a song that’s been around since December 2013. Still, better late than never. Thanks to my wife for pointing this out to me, even though she’s still slow to alert me when hairs start sprouting out of my ears (ladies, this is among your most important wifely duties). Anyway, this video is pure magic and could have easily been shot in my old building on Jacobus Place in Marble Hill. It looks like a typical Friday night there. Now I’m starting to feel my old self.
Yankee Frank and Mets Bet. Nothing too much changed on the New York baseball scene while I was away. The Yanks looked pretty good for a bit and now not so good, as the Orioles attempt to choke off what air is left in their shrinking lungs down in Charm City. The Yanks are still very much in contention for a playoff spot, but I wouldn’t count on it. As I’ve said before, the league is finally going to pick up on the tendencies of the dreck that is their current starting rotation and start lighting them up, as the O’s did last night. Even if they do sneak in, this team is not built for any significant post-season run. As for the Mets? Same old Mets. No trades, a mediocre record in a dreadful division, and another promising young pitcher, Jacob deGrom, headed to the DL with rotator cuff tendinitis… and for the Mets that’s good news. Oh well, I’ll still be tuning in to see if they can get over 74 wins. Only 18 to go. Wheee!
No Guts, no Rory. I know how so many of you on this site love golf talk so I felt it my duty to point out that this past Sunday Rory McIlroy won his second consecutive major and third straight tour event, cementing his place as the world’s number one golfer. But after his win, he acted a bit like number two when he credited some of his success to breaking up with tennis star Caroline Wozniacki. Look, maybe it’s true. And the Irish do have a tendency to say what’s on their minds. But when you break up with someone just days after sending out your friggin’ wedding invitations and you do so in the three-minute phone call, you have zero business patting yourself on the back to the press about your decision. I was reminded of a young woman (mid-to-late-20s) I witnessed the other day whining into her cell to someone about how it was her parents’ fault that she had a bunch of student loan debt and that she couldn’t afford a place to live. I mean she was full-on trashing her parents for around five minutes. It’s not often that I want to strangle a complete stranger but this entitled little hobgoblin was about as bad as they come. As for Rory, he’s a good story and likable in some ways but he needs to own the fact that he was a jerk and took the coward’s way out, and then people might be more receptive to his impressive run on the links.
Robin Williams. I have decided not to go on and on about how the tabloids, particularly the New York Post, have dropped the ball when it comes to celebrity death headlines these days. There used to be a time when such a passing would spawn such front pages as: Mrs. Deadfire and Dispatch Adams, but no more. Hell, I think any comedian worth his or her salt would appreciate such a silly sendoff. Instead we’re left with twitter tributes and a body of work. So, on behalf of the New York Mets, I’ll once again state that the Yankees can have Billy Crystal and we’ll take Robin Williams.
Come back tomorrow for Big Al Sternberg, a guy who has seen Club Paradise even more times than me.