Film Industry = Fragile Business.

Why do we do it? In hopes of creating a true masterpiece, movie magic such as this gem reported in today's Variety: Pairing Up for Poetry

Lindsay Lohan is joining Keira Knightley in the "The Best Time of Our Lives," which John Maybury is in negotiations to direct for U.K.-based Sarah Radclyffe Prods.
...

Script by Knightley's mother, playwright Sharman Macdonald, is based on the true story of the relationships among Welsh poet Dylan Thomas, his wife Caitlin (Lohan), his childhood friend Vera Phillips (Knightley) and her eventual husband, William Killick. It centers on the curious incident in which Phillips and Killick opened fire on the Thomas home with a machine gun and a hand grenade.

I don't know which excites me more - armed poets, or Lindsay Lohan with a British accent.

I'm getting giddy just thinking about it.

I will now start my routine of running eleventy billion miles a day.

From the NY Daily News:
The Lazy-Bones Nabe - Sunset Park Tagged in City Health Survey

I swear, I spent my youth playing wiffle ball. Maybe there is some nurture in laziness after all...

There are no words.

I was there. Game 7. Shea Stadium. Mets v. Cards.

I surrounded myself with my closest friends. I saw every pitch. I never left my seat. I chanted. I hooted. I hollared. I waved my towel. I kept hope alive, believed when reality should've set in, never stopped dreaming. I did everything I'm supposed to do as a fan to make this night perfect.

I got a hell of a ballgame. I didn't get the fairytale ending.

Cards, 3-1.

I can't quite describe this feeling. It's a combination of a straight gut punch and the depression from realizing it's just a game and the world's still on its axis. It feels slightly off, though. I want to come up with some analogy of baseball as life, but I realize I'm grasping at straws tonight. Making much ado about very little, but this feeling reminds me thoroughly that it's definitely not nothing.

I search for words to elaborate, and I can think of one moment... sophomore year of college, October. I finished watching the Mets lose in 5 in the World Series to the Yankees. That stung. I couldn't find words - but searched the internet reading everything to find them. And I found these two quotes. And they said it all for me.

I thought about them on the way home, the longest ride home. They still ring true. While I cope with the hurt and sadness of Game 7... I keep it in perspective with these few words.

"I cannot get rid of the hurt from losing, but after the last out of every loss, I must accept that there will be a tomorrow. In fact, it's more than there'll be a tomorrow, it's that I want there to be a tomorrow. That's the big difference, I want tomorrow to come." - Sparky Anderson

"It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone." - A. Bartlett Giamatti

It's raining tonight, you should know. Started during the game.

Welcome back.

I can't speak for all of you, but speaking as one guy who grew up a little dork... I know I for one am happy to see Weird Al's still doing it after all these years.

Wow.

The only word I can use to describe KT Tunstall's performance yesterday at Webster Hall. I'm a believer now. Leave your house right now and go buy her CD immediately. Go.

It's alright, I'll wait.

(waiting)

Stop reading this. Believe me, if the hooks don't get you, her voice will. And if her voice doesn't, nor her successful use of a kazoo during the performance, then her keyboardist's/trumpeter's washboard tie will.

Go.

Don't Bet the House on Me

Right.

So apparently, I goofed up my LDS picks. The NLDS? When I said Padres in 4, I should've said Cardinals in 3. And when I said Mets in 5, I should've said Tom Glavine is the Dodger Daddy.

I had my ALDS games mixed up, too. When I said Yankees sweep, I meant the As. And when I said As in 5, I should've said the Yankees are awful. My apologies to anyone who took my predictions to Vegas.

Guys, please accept this as a token of my remorse.

Girls? Uhh... don't.

PS - We've got jury duty! Updates to come just as soon as they're legal.

Mere Moments Away...

I'm sitting on the couch on a sunny afternoon here in the big BK, mere minutes from the Mets gettin' down with the Los Angeles Dodgers of Los Angeles. And I'm nervous.

I wanted to write a "what I expect from the LDS series" blog, but ran out of time (games started by the time I got halfway - for the record, I had Oakland in 5, Yankees in 3, and the Padres in 4). That leaves one series. The one that means more.

I spent the last Mets playoff experience in relative obscurity, getting my education about 300 miles away in scenic Syracuse, NY. I watched a small 13" tv, which gave me the grand slam single, the bases loaded walk, the one-hitter, and Timo Perez. I'm back in New York now. Living it. Hell, I've got tickets to Game 5.

Mets in Five. How do I know? Why would I back them even after they lost Pedro AND El Duque? Why am I a glutton for punishment?

I'll tell you why.
- The pitching never mattered. The Mets were 10-13 in games this season started by Pedro Martinez. El Duque? 11-8. Between them? 21-21. Number of games the Mets finished above 500? 32. It took them 13 different starters to get their wins. A patchwork rotation is clearly the least of their worries.

- The bats mattered. The Mets finished in the top 5 in the NL in runs scored, RBIs, HRs, OBP, and OPS. Score runs - and you win ball games. Some might argue a September swoon, but stats will show you there is no direct correlation between September and postseason performance. And, for good measure, the Mets finished the season winning four in a row - including sweeping the Washington Nationals by a combined score of 23-5. Yes, it's the Nationals - but they beat up the team they're supposed to beat up. We look for good signs in small places.

- The Dodgers are suspect. Penny's iffy, they lost their star lefty reliever Bemiel. They can hit with the best of them - but nobody in that lineup scares you.

- Grady Little.

- Because it's time.

Sadly, I have to watch the game on ESPN. Meaning Joe Morgan. I will be periodically punching myself to compensate for the stupidity.

Let's Go Mets.