20 Years Later: Achtung, Baby

Before the official 20th anniversary of the release of my favorite album slips on by, a brief explanation as to why it is that I love the album and the band itself...

Aside from hearing "One" or "Mysterious Ways" on the radio, my first real listen to U2's 1991 album, Achtung, Baby, came in high school. At the time, I was just beginning to come to appreciate the band who would dominate the next decade of my musical enjoyment (making up for lost time always works better than having to wait for things in the moment. For example, watching LOST week-to-week never worked because I couldn't handle not having the access to it needed to sustain a healthy relationship. With- at the time- two decades of music already in the band's catalog, I could take my sweet time and dive in to the material which had already been released YEARS prior while waiting for new material). I recall distinctly sitting on the floor in my buddy Joe's bedroom, taking in the opening screeches and bass-laden rhythm that opened the album's fourth track, "Until the End of the World".

The feeling was not unlike hearing a curse word or a sexual innuendo for the first time on the radio: you look over your shoulder, wondering if anyone's going to catch you in the act of hearing something you're not sure was intended for your ears. But you want more. I must have stared into the speakers, bowled over by the profound sounds coming at me in a sonic wave of color. Yes, color. The guitar range comes in such an illustrious fullness that I could scarcely believe that the Edge wasn't breaking new ground by painting with music.

Needless to say, that moment was the first burst of a love affair (one-sided, admittedly) between myself and U2's music. At the time, All That You Can't Leave Behind had JUST come out, "Beautiful Day" was on the periphery of my radar, and 9-11 was a year-plus away. It was Achtung, Baby, however, that froze me in my shoes. Through college, incorporating the music of U2- the last timeless band, chronologically speaking- into papers became a fun challenge. A quote here, a reference there...I began to have a lot of fun with it. Ultimately, a professor challenged me to actually use the band as a scholarly source; my thesis paper included a deconstruction of Achtung compared with James Joyce's Ulysses. Think of that as a test of love.

And so, 20 years later, the notion that U2 has held up is brought into question. The Beatles are timeless for being pioneers. The Stones are timeless for creating the single-best riff in music history, and for enduring. Led Zeppelin are timeless for having a consistently great catalog, while still leaving something in the tank due to bowing out after John Bonham's death. U2, however, have remained sneakily consistent. While commercial success in recent years has been dominated by touring, the band is responsible for three timeless albums over three different decades. Only the Stones can match that timeline. Whatever. That's not my point. Here's my point: Achtung, Baby, is an important album in the context of the band itself (reinvention, which I'll get to momentarily), as well as the broader sense of the music industry (two pivotal albums). So indulge me as I go through the album, track by track, and see if you can't talk yourself into liking you some U2 heading into the new year...

The album itself, released in November of 1991, famously had its roots in U2's post-Joshua Tree, late-80s hangover. The band had been touring following what many considered to be a disappointing film/album (Rattle and Hum), and had themselves claimed that- heading into 1990 with a new year's eve performance in Dublin- they needed to go away and "dream it all up again". While The Joshua Tree had gone diamond (10x platinum), the band grew restless. After taking some time apart, the band famously hunkered down in Berlin (apparently flying in on the last flight into East Germany's Berlin) to work on getting the album together.

Berlin's importance in 20th century history cannot be overstated (truly the belly of the beast in the 1940s, divided by the Iron Curtain in the 50s, hotspot for downfall of communism in the late 80s), and so the band, like Germans and other world citizens of that time period, sought to reinvent itself. The departure from the simple four-piece ensemble that had come to define their music at the time was certainly noticeable with the release of the album. Added to it was an industrial, rock-solid sound. Like Berlin, the exposure to new things brought about a sense of newness, rebirth, whathaveyou. The lyrical content, too, would be an example of the change in direction for the band (coming). The result is an album that gave U2 a red v. blue (Beatles) sort of debate. For those unfamiliar with the album, here's a breakdown:

1) Zoo Station

Right away, a guitar gliss is telling the listener that this isn't your older brother's U2. The music itself has a disoriented, industrial beat, with guitar work that seems to press on into some futuristic world. Berlin- for anyone who's been- has seen similar changes in scenery over the last 20+ years. Meanwhile, the distorted sound of Bono's voice- he of the heart-on-sleeve battle call- raises many eyebrows. Acting as a re-assuring salesman of the future (take stock; it's a guaranteed rise), he's not afraid to lead by example ("I'm ready/I'm ready for what's next"). Zoo Station itself is a stop on the Berlin subway system, making the closing lines ("Just two stops down the line", "Just a stop down the line") appropriate. Ultimately, the "kiss the future" campaign will be successful or not based on the rest of the album. However, for anyone climbing aboard, you're immediately aware that you're in for a ride.

2) Even Better Than The Real Thing

The sonic intro to EBTTRT is further proof that as a listener, you're getting involved with something different than what you're used to from U2. It's looser, a lot flashier, announcing itself with a silky authority (as per the vocals; "Give me one more chance/and you'll be satisfied", as well as the chorus itself). The notion that "it's about the music" had sort of given way to an acceptance that flash and flare could, in fact, enhance the product itself. The band had initially gotten kickback from fans for selling out to the rock star image. Looking deeper, however, the band's wink to that freshly-wrapped allure is supplemented by their stronger lyrics and broader use of sound. This song is a perfect example of such ("We're free to fly the crimson skies/the Sun won't melt our wings tonight"? Icarus? Deeper than expected (and a seemingly-inadvertent Joyce reference)). Besides, if you really wanted to reach for it, the song title itself could be a tongue-in-cheek reference to the notion that this glitz and shiny wrapping paper is- in our superficial time- better than significant music with a message (U2's earlier M.O.).

3) One

Perhaps U2's most enduring/recognizable/important song, One is a reaffirmation of what everyone who loved U2 prior to this album loved about U2. Simple, stripped down, and profound. This is, as is well-documented by the band themselves- the toughest song to get done on the album. Its undefined topic certainly helps it appeal to so many for so many reasons. I'll post the video if you haven't heard it, but One is pretty well-known, so I'd be surprised if you haven't. Ultimately, this song always struck me as one about responsibility (we've GOT to carry each other....no matter how well we do or do not get along. We're in this together). The questioning ("Is it getting better/ or do you feel the same?", "Did I ask too much?", followed by the heartbreaker, "You gave me nothing/now it's all I've got") is obviously touching on something deeper, something more...and yet that's not the important part. THAT'S the genius of the song: what got whomever to this point is not the important part. The important part is that everyone involved is in this together. Carry each other.

4) Until the End of the World

All of the information I wrote in the introduction to this post is real. This song...does something to me. I'm not sure how to describe it. Anyway, the idea of the song is that it's in reference to Judas, the betrayer from the Bible. And yet, a song about love isn't out of the question. Lyrically, it's some of Bono's best ("You miss too much these days if you stop to think" seems more and more appropriate every day. "I reached out for the one I tried to destroy" can carry many connotations, but surely the idea of rejecting God only to 'see the light' later on is one that could be true). Aurally, the rhythm is dope. Big-assed bass from Adam Clayton, funky jungle-beat from Larry Mullen, Jr, and a guitar solo I can't help but see in my mind as an avalanche of color from the Edge. Every time. (In fact, my favorite solo of all time) In the video, it starts at 2:00 exactly. The Judas thing is driven home by the lyric "I kissed your lips/and broke your heart", which harkens back to an earlier U2 song, Pride(In the Name of Love) ("One man betrayed with a kiss" is Jesus, whose message was not unlike that of Dr. King, about whom Pride was written. Fun fact!).

5) Who's Gonna Ride Your Wild Horses

The distorted guitar in the into is really the only part of this song that would distinguish it from 1980s U2. The depth of the lyrics, showing hurt and a need to part with the past, makes it a moving song for anyone who's been disappointed by love. I always think of this song as fairly poignant. ("The doors you open/ I just can't close" themselves are easily accessible in the rolodex of life decisions for anyone; we're inherently a people who are prone to making decisions that are not good for us) My favorite thing about the song itself is the way the lyrics seem to be spoken in the beginning. As the bridge approaches, however, Bono gets a bit breathy, as if exasperated by what/whomever is vexing him. Of course, by the end, there's a fair bit of singing going on in what one might call the climax of the song. It may not be happy or pretty, but it's a well-delivered song.

6) So Cruel

A perfect B-side to the previous song. So Cruel has always been a dark song, in my mind. The opening wastes no time in getting to the point that this is not about happiness and flowers and puppies or whatever people in love get into. It seems to be the last straw in what has been dissatisfaction, and while heartbreaking, it sets the perfect scene for a second act of getting out there into a world of newness, distortion, and adventure. "We crossed the line/who pushed you over?/It doesn't matter to you/ It matters to me" is strangely haunting, lyrically. Throughout the rest of the song, it becomes apparent that this is a truly hurt individual writing a break-up letter, or something of that ilk. Rather than simply say "Fuck You" (no offense, Cee Lo), the words are powerful; they carry some serious heft ("Between the horses of love and lust/ we are trampled underfoot"), finally ending with "To stay with you/ I'd be a fool"...it's really a beautifully-written tell-off. And while you can't dance to it, there's something to be said for a song that is full of such a strong emotion- even if it's a bitter, jaded emotion- that it lingers on for nearly six minutes.

7)The Fly

Described as "a phone call from Hell...but the guy likes it there", The Fly acts as sort of a calling card for what happens after the breakup described in So Cruel: a night out, questioning, acceptance, figuring out what comes next. The return to industrial sounds is not quite coincidence, as the sentiment is that there's something new to be taken from the music. Lyrically, the messages are that of re-invention and re-alignment of perceptions. The song itself sounds a little seedy, but again, that's not necessarily a bad thing. That quote above comes to symbolize the messages in the song; they aren't all positive, but there's some truth and accessibility in them. Much like the notion of Heaven and Hell and the struggle for religious/spiritual belonging, there are questions of faith that need answering. What I feel is going on here is the acceptance that shit's going to happen that isn't all about love and fluffy stuff, but as there's a fine line between good and bad, there's a way to accept limitations and what to do once you have. The video I selected is part of what would flash across the gigantic screens of the Zoo TV tour (more of the superficial, image-based packaging that U2 did/did not get and did/did not want anyone to focus on at their shows). It's a lot to take in, but then again, the notion that Hell isn't all that bad- according to the narrator of the story- is certainly a diversion from what we're used to hearing.

8) Mysterious Ways

A sexy song, the song itself could be written about a woman, the moon, God...open to interpretation, as most good songs are. It strikes me as an invitation. The invitation is this: embrace the adventure, the newness, and the mystery. That is driven by the lyric "One day you will look back/ and you'll see where you were held how(down?)/ by this love/ while you can stand there/ you can move on this moment/ follow this feeling". Love itself may not be captive. It could very well mean what you know, what you're comfortable with. Ideally, however, stepping out of a comfort zone has its benefits. How well does THAT fit in with the flow of songs thus far, AND how well does it fit in with the narrative of U2 until that point? Thank you, thank you...

9) Tryin' to Throw Your Arms Around the World

A mellow tune, TTTYAATW has always held a spot in my heart as a sort of moment of lucidity and serenity amidst the chaos of what the rest of the album had come to represent. While a simpler combination of fundamental components of a musical band, the feel is still very much a step away from earlier efforts. In a way, the song acts as a 'day after', hangover-like response to the earlier movement and disarray of Mysterious Ways and The Fly. The other concept is that of the song as a dream. Lyrically, it's almost as if surrealism serves as the motif (Dali reference, included).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n2dL-DjAkek

10) Ultraviolet (Light My Way)

Perhaps one of my favorite U2 songs, Ultraviolet is a spectacular representation of the "new" U2. There's a certain depth of the music that lends itself well to what is ultimately a new dimension of the band. Within the scope of the album itself, Ultraviolet is a moment of reckoning, so to speak: tempted and engrossed in the new, shiny precipice of the new and unknown, the narrator is essentially at a crossroads. It is unclear, if following this line of logic, whether the need to have a path lit is a call to the known or unknown. Quite true, considering the intimacy and internal conflict associated with the album. Broader ideas (and a large chunk of U2's religious kickback following their earlier material) gave way to a very self-centered composition of music. It is interesting to note, for those still here and those interested in the band, that the desire to be led astray of the conceivable ties to religious structures resulted in a secular, human-driven work. In any event, Ultraviolet's inclusion on U2's last tour certainly amped up the excitement for the song itself, and re-kindled a sense of appreciation for it. In what is a tumultuous world, "light my way" serves as a cry for help, for direction...and that's something many can connect to.

11) Acrobat

Occasionally, the Edge's guitar will evoke a more raw emotion. While chiming and unique in its sound, the chaos and distortion of what is going on throughout the album is effectively portrayed sonically through the guitar. There's some of the lament on religion lyrically ("I'd break bread and wine/if there was a church I could receive in"), further questioning of identity and motivation ("I must be an acrobat/to talk like this and act like that"), and a struggle to come to terms with whatever it is that is an overarching theme or idea within the album. Much like "Exit" from the Joshua Tree, the tone of frustration and anger comes through with a sort of woeful clarity. It's dark, but poignant; angry, but thoughtful.

12)Love is Blindness

A fitting closing track to the album, the organ intro (religious undertones? Perhaps) leads into what sounds almost like a really somber procession. Even the titular line comes off as though it is said with resolve and reluctance, rather than the blissful sense of FALLING in love. If that is the way falling in love feels, the tone of the song gives the sense that it is binding unconditionally, which may or may not be a positive thing throughout the course of one's life or relationships.

A larger point about the album in general (and accentuated by Love is Blindness) is that it contains a wide array of songs and sounds. There is a similar sort of sound to much of War and The Unforgettable Fire, for example. While it doesn't diminish the work of the group, having a broader scope of sound within the same album is a vital part of what makes Achtung, Baby so memorable, and so great, in my opinion. 20 years later, the strength of diversity within the sound of the album resonates. It contains a number of legitimately GOOD songs that have endured at least 20 years to this point, "One" in particular (which achieves a sort of timelessness that songs like "Imagine" and "Satisfaction" have been synonymous with).

Loose Electricity

A funny thing happened the other night: it was as though happiness crept up and swallowed me whole, peeking up over the horizon and engulfing whatever lay within its path. This is not a regular occurrence. Between the bleak job market, a creative rut that has long since overstayed its welcome, the sorting and sifting through memories of more than one strained relationship, it's safe to say that a fair bit of self-loathing has taken place. It requires a lot more effort than I've got some days to feel carefree. I'm hard on myself. I get that. I also get that I shouldn't be so serious. The quest for understanding is an eternal one. Destination unknown. Not sure if there is one.

Last year, right around the holidays, I received a deceptively-wrapped gift: a voice. Disrobing insecurity and trepidation has been the goal of 2011. The practicality and functionality of this blessing has paid for itself infinitely. The results? Mixed. Like many new items, some assembly is required. There were a couple of screws leftover, unused, but not necessarily pertinent. And yet, I've been using this constantly. It fits perfectly.

The freedom of expression. It's a challenging sort of concept if you've never given it thought, this 'freedom'. A big idea that had both fascinated and eluded me (working in tandem, as they are wont to do). And it's like...well, it's potent. I suppose it's something different for everyone. But it's potent.

The secret is yourself.

I had commented that same night that I've been more Charlie Brown-ish around the holidays. Reasons why are my own. The night transformed quite quickly- in the company of my family- to a healthy dose of pure, uncut happiness. And I've been riding it since. It's as though I got plugged into this energy source, and it has sped me up to a euphoric state. Last night, I decided to call a number of people to share the joyous good news that is....what? Life? Joy in general? Holiday well-wishes? Whatever it was, I'm sure it went on too late, and for that I apologize. It's just that when you have joy, you tend to want to spread it around. And so today, in addition to sending messages that sound jumbled ("Hey, sorry for the late-night call last night. Feeling strangely fine", for example), I feel like I'm on fire. What do people do with this? I should be painting, singing, taking pictures....something. Right?

I chose to write. Very necessary. Enjoy the weekend, all.

Talk to each other.

Why U2? Part One

With the 20th anniversary of the release of my favorite album of all time, I figured I would take some time to explain why it is that I have become such a massive U2 fan. While there is plenty of time coming up in the future to describe the love of the music and sound, the personality and all that stuff, there are certain memories I have that not only do I associate with a time, a place, or a person, but in this case, with music. Here's one:

It was two years ago today that U2 streamed their concert from the Rose Bowl live across the world via youtube. At the time I was in Chile and trying to work out a long-distance relationship with a woman back home whom I cared deeply about. In the process of getting acclimated to this new place and the new job, it seemed like a good opportunity to stream the show together that evening.

Now, I've long been of the belief that music has a power to reach and to touch. I'm one of those. I firmly subscribe to the notion that as we are living, breathing human beings, we are subject to having things move us. And music does that for me; it has done so for as long as I can remember. U2, in particular, had come to move me and mean more to me from not only a musical perspective, but also from the vantage point of the memories it evokes. I understand that there are songs that remind us of people (Example: "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by the Smashing Pumpkins reminds me of my friend Kevin, and the summer we spent listening to Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness on repeat all day, every day. To THIS day, I hear anything by the Pumpkins, I immediately think of Kevin and that summer). There are also songs that remind us of places (Enrique Iglesias' "I Like It" will always remind me of Miami 2010). To that effect, U2 brings about feelings and emotions. "Where the Streets Have No Name" will always send a shiver up my spine, make my hair stand on end, and have me feeling invincible. Always.

Now to bring it back to the story...I'd been keeping up via Skype, and thought that this would be quite the magical marriage of my favorite band and my favorite gal (who traditionally had shook her head at the opening chord of any U2 song, knowing full well that it was 3-5 minutes of uninterrupted euphoria; not that it had to be silent, just that it was causing extreme joy. If you're going to butter me up to anything, having a soundtrack of that nature is a great strategic move...). Our arrangements were made to talk that night and to have the concert playing in the background. However, each of us working a full day and coming home after to sit still for a conversation could sometimes lead to drowsiness. I don't doubt that my enthusiasm for the idea exceeded hers, but we managed to get into the sound in time for the concert to start.

Now, for those of you who haven't seen anything from the U2 360 tour, I urge you to check it out. The music is testament to U2's staying power, at least as a live act. The set is....well, it's something to behold. And the experience of such a live show unchains me. Couldn't endorse it more.

And so we sat (and proceeded to lay down), watching the concert, listening to the music, and looking at each other. Until drowsiness took over us. While I won't bore you with the set list, both new and old songs were well-represented. Highlights 1-3 (links given if the embedding doesn't work):

1)Playing "In a Little While", which isn't a terribly common song played live, but fit the situation perfectly; to say it upped the beauty of the song is an understatement.


2) The move from "Streets" to "Ultraviolet": While WTSHNN is the best song I've ever heard live, the move to "Ultraviolet" off of Achtung, Baby (perhaps my favorite track from my favorite album) was spectacular. I was jarred awake by the intro to the song, but was MORE than pleasantly interrupted when I heard where they were going with it. Beautiful, Bono's ridiculous light jacket not withstanding.


3) Watching someone sleep through the end of the show. "Moment of Surrender" off of U2's latest effort has a similarly profound impact on me from both a emotional and spiritual direction. While I don't know if it makes for the best concert closer ("Out of Control" this past summer, for example, was better), it is a touching song. Combine that with the serenity that comes with someone fast asleep, and it became one of the best (if not THE best) moment I can remember about living abroad. I am reminded of that today, as it's been two years since the concert first aired.



The moment in itself had a longer-lasting effect than the concert, and yet the concert served as a way to connect not only the two of us, but also add the music- a third party- into the mix. At the show this past July, I was reminded of that night, and how surreal it was to be experiencing it live, fully awake. The rest I'm not sure if I can put into words. Rest assured more is on the way, though.

Talk to each other.

What we must never forget...

I spent a lot of time thinking about what to say about the 10th anniversary of the September 11th attacks on American soil. From personal recollections and responses to general reactions in my town, state, nation...to the international response in the ten years since towards Americans. I'm sure any of you who have read any material at all on the moment, the day have read similar thoughts and responses from far more accomplished than I.

I don't have much to add to the broad, over-exploited scope of response to the act itself. My message is simple:

Talk to each other.



As Americans, we are afforded the freedom to express ourselves freely. And if there's one thing that life in general shows us- every day- is that not doing so is to waste a freedom which the world is not universally privileged enough to possess. Every day, the world loses people. In that moment, we lose the opportunity to tell these people the things which we hold in our hearts and in our heads. We lose the opportunity to share memories, to express things like gratitude and love. So why wait? If you have people that you love, tell them that.

'Fantasy' Sports

With the NFL making its much-anticipated return tonight, millions of eyes will be glued to television sets around the country and beyond, with millions more eagerly watching their phones and computers. The number of ardent football fans is greatly outweighed by the fans of a particular team. Knowing one's team inside and out is a bit easier than knowing the depth chart of 32 teams. If I'm rooting for the Giants (and therefore getting to know FAR too many players, as I'd start looking at fifth-string defenders), there's little chance that I will be paying as much attention to, say, the Tennessee Titans beyond the contract status of their star running back, Chris Johnson. Now, that wouldn't be just because Johnson is one of the most talented backs in the league. It's fantasy football. Fantasy football is an opportunity to construct your own team, for those of you unfamiliar with the concept. Before each season, people in a league (colleagues, friends, families, etc.) participate in a draft in the hopes of being associated with the players who- through their REAL performances in that year's season- have the most successful seasons.

Boy, that sounds silly. Pathetic, even.

Yet, for the millions who play, the idea of fantasy football season (or any fantasy sport, really...football starts tonight, which is how this idea came about. Work with me.) is a truly fascinating one: the idea of limitless potential wrapped in the universal feelings of glory and heartbreak. I tried explaining it to my mother once, and that was met with a resounding shake of her head. Recently, a friend asked what was so appealing about fantasy football. I tried to explain it to her in terms of sports, which was too close to the source. Again, not quite getting that feeling across. How to properly put the prospect of "owning" a team and riding highs and lows based on the performances of people I will never meet?

It hit me in a dream.

Imagine living in a town where everyone knows everyone. Better and worse (Some may call it "college"). You're heading back to school (in this town where everyone knows each other, of course) for the next year, and you are REALLY excited to start dating. You've kept up via facebook with a lot of people, scrolled the feed, checked out pictures, maybe even gotten together with some people for a gathering or two over the summer. So you are prepared to court a young man/young lady as the year begins. Suddenly, you are hearing feedback from all corners of town as to what to expect from this person, how they will let you down, how they fail to deliver in big spots, how they can't cook, how underrated their scalp massages are, and how their appreciation for The Smashing Pumpkins is a sneaky part of why you enjoy this person so much. Now, expand this idea to about a dozen people. For better and worse, this is how your school year goes. Every time something magical or frustrating happens, people sympathize. Others say "I told you so". Others still don't even have to speak; they look at you with that knowing look, like "I understand completely." Welcome to fantasy football.

The reality of the fantasy situation is that it's frowned upon to talk about exes in such a way. I understand that some relationships end in horrible fashion. Others still are memorable because of a hilarious/sentimental/highly memorable episode which resonates with you for ages thereafter. Which is too bad, because there are great stories to be told in everyone's back catalog of relationships. I don't kiss and tell, but when something truly historic happens, I want people to share this with. As an aside, this must be why so many choose to post pictures of engagement rings; kids can't WAIT to share that information. This is why fantasy football is so great! You're not talking about crazy sex or the partner who cried in the shower or the guy who still sleeps with a stuffed animal or the girl who makes lasagna so out-of-this-world that you bought an all-elastic-waistband wardrobe.
Talking about ex-boyfriends? Shallow. Talking about Ray Rice's protection? Savvy.

And the key to that is that people who have "shared" a player in fantasy football know EXACTLY what you're thinking and feeling. We all know at least one person who claims to know exactly what you're feeling. You break up because you got into a heated argument about your boyfriend's love of Slayer, said some things neither of you should have, and poof! he's gone. Next thing, this friend of yours is recounting his own stories of how his girlfriend broke up with him and that sucked, too. There's definitely a disconnect, though. And you're too nice to say anything because you don't want to seem ungrateful, but the truth is this person just doesn't get it. With fantasy, people ACTUALLY DO know EXACTLY how you feel. Within the fantasy community, the stats and performances are IDENTICAL, so your cohorts know EXACTLY how a nullified Calvin Johnson touchdown catch feels. They know EXACTLY how devastating a Tom Brady week 1 season-ending injury feels. They know EXACTLY how frustrating it is to let Ricky Williams take it inside the 5 after Ronnie Brown ran for 50+ yards on the drive.

Better yet, this is a universal condition!...well, within the fantasy football universe, anyway. It's not just your league that gets it, it's not just Vikings fans in Minnesota ( a destination you may never visit) who get it, it's not just the list of girls who have had to listen to Slayer unwillingly. It's EVERYONE who has played the game. Guys who have never had the lasagna can never say "I understand". The "there will be other lasagna" doesn't quite cover it. But meet the other poor bastards who lost their 2008 season the first week thank to Bernard Pollard and you both know exactly what the feeling is. No words are needed.

Your season, like Brady's, may have been over in week 1. The upside? No surgery or boot.

(I'd like to think that in dating terms, Brady's 2008 season was like going to dinner with Rachel Bilson, getting back to her place, and having her explode into a cloud of dust in the driveway. You have no rational explanation as to why/how it happened, and you're not quite mad....but you're not quite sad, because you have no REAL attachment...baffled by the "what-if" scenario is probably the most accurate way of describing this. But you probably won't be drafting Brady/watching The OC reruns anytime soon.)

Actually, the similarities between dating and fantasy are quite striking. Of course, there's more than just looks at stake (Larry Fitzgerald may be the best athlete in the NFL, but he needs more than Derek Anderson). There are, as they say, plenty of fish in the sea (though many aren't suitable to even give your number to). If you wish, you can rationalize and talk yourself into a LOT of things (great smile, really friendly, gets along with your friends....if only he didn't try to sleep with all of your friends), even if they're ultimately going to let you down. There are sleepers (give him a few years; his priorities just aren't in place yet). And each year, there are tales of agony and ecstasy that make or break the season.
Imagine Fitzgerald's season with a QB corps who completed more than 51% of passes...


In other words, fantasy football/sports is like all of the best and worst things about dating without the actual direct effect on your life. And you can talk about it! Whether you're the type who brags a lot or the quiet sort, or somewhere in between, fantasy levels the playing field. Braggarts eat crow. Quiet types revel in the splendor of Michael Vick's return. There's no genuine heartache (or there shouldn't be. Your partner/family/job is more than likely more important than fantasy sports. Important disclaimer there), which is actually a nice consolation. There are no tangible ramifications for mailing in a week (I'm sure those with less-than-agreeable in-laws are nodding grimly right about now) (this of course is because paying dues for a league is gambling, and as such, is illegal in my state). And you don't feel genuinely dirty when you pick a player that prompts all of the other owners to laugh at you or say something to the effect of "I wouldn't pick that guy for YOUR team" because of a combination of under-performance and a dreadful playing situation (Donovan McNabb, anyone?) (really, I have no idea of how that would feel if I started dating a gal who prompted that response from anyone. Tact is NOT necessary in fantasy sports).

For those of us who aren't at that point of being cozied up with the person you want to spend the rest of your life with yet, this is a great way of getting your kicks without worrying about VD or changing your number.

It should also be noted that there are moments that are not as outrageous as the aforementioned: the moment in the draft where the fallen hero is picked up (Peyton Manning this year; you may hate the Colts, and you won't be drafting him, but you can't really wish harm to the guy/gal who takes him in the 6th round. After all, if Manning comes back and plays close to his ability level, there are 7-15 other people who are smacking their foreheads): you wish that person well. At least I do. The respect for a really great second-round pick (this is usually a sound decision based on what an owner already has. The pick may not be the sexiest option, but it'll contribute to a winner) is another one of those instances (getting Aaron Rodgers, and then the immediate pick and nabbing a top-3 receiver like Roddy White? I like it. Yeah, running backs will be lacking, but championships have been won without studs in the backfield).
I couldn't talk myself into dating this woman. Now, if she were to throw for 4,000 yards and 35+ TDs, well....


In any case, the new season is cause for excitement and enthusiasm, much like any new partner should be. And that universal condition of pre-opening night/day jitters is something that anyone can relate to. It's a season of re-birth, starting over, getting out there and giving it your best shot, without the complications/deflated feelings of having a kid, for example, or rooting for the Dolphins. The 'no strings attached' mentality is something you really CAN get behind in this case because, again, it's not real. It is called 'fantasy' football for a reason; it lacks the emotional void that 'nsa' dating can create. Which is maybe the best part about fantasy sports: at the end of the relationship with your team/ you can gladly wash your hands of the team and openly dream up something better next year! It's as hands-off as you want to be.

Unless, of course, you play in the NFL.

Warning: May Cause Blindness

Like anything which brings us enjoyment, power begets more power. The more we have of something, the more we tend to want it. And the more we get, the more insatiable out appetites become for it. Whether it's food or drink, sex or money (but hopefully not sex-for-money), respect or power, a whetted appetite breeds a desire for more, more, more. Eventually we reach a point where there are signs to take a break; that first deep exhale when you finally come up for air from the dinner plate doesn't always mean you are ready to stop noshing. In an unfortunate twist of events, we rarely heed those warning signs and continue (think about the last time you drank to excess...was it the shot that sat in your mouth for a little too long before you swallowed? The beer that got REALLY heavy? The slight lapse in balance as you got up to use the bathroom?). The result? A painful reminder that we've had too much. You get up at 2 am to take another antacid. You boot on the sidewalk outside of the bar. You make sure that nothing touches your vital organ until after you've had a few hours to recover. You go all in on two pair because hey, you can spare it. You text a picture of your dick.

Wait, what?

Former Representative Anthony Weiner's latest entry in the book of 21st century creeps is sad and enraging. For the rage, please scroll below. The sadness that comes out of this is largely for his new and pregnant wife, Huma Abedin. The rest of whatever combination of grief and pity you have for Weiner is largely reserved for the warning signs he brazenly steamrolled through with his power. Why didn't he think about the long-lasting footprint that a crotch-shot message leaves? Why did he think it was alright to do that while married (and soon to be a father, no less)? Why did he say his Twitter account had been hacked? Why did he FIGHT it? For ten long days, why did he try to fight, ignore, cover up, and downplay this?

I'm not one for scrutiny on the acts of others. In previous cases of such behavior- affairs, scandals, politicians being scumbags (see Schwarzenegger, Arnold)- I would wish the person good luck in untangling the clusterfuck that their life has become, particularly for any kids that they may have. It's bad enough when stuff like this happens to people who are not in the public eye. However, when you are a person who is elected into office, you ARE held to a higher standard than everyone else, just as you are held to a higher standard when you are paid millions of dollars to play your sport and make your movies (and the nonsense about love of the game/craft is bullshit. Ask minor league-ers and film students about love of a craft). No, the Anthony Weiner situation became its saddest when, after he was revealed to have been in intimate contact with another young lady, he said that he would take a temporary leave to undergo therapy for what he had done. Another warning sign that you have DE-RAILED.

No, wait. That wasn't it. The saddest part had to have been when Nancy Pelosi called on him to resign, on behalf of his political party. Uhh, Ant? That was another wake-up call. Your teammates no longer want your distractions fogging up the clubhouse, man.

Nope. Not quite there yet. The saddest part had to have been a couple of days later when President Obama suggested tha-- wait, the PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA is suggesting that you step down and you don't? Thick-headed seems an inappropriate term to use. "Dumbass" at least gets the point across, if not in polite fashion.

Would we have reached the bottom when his constituents- the people he was elected to serve seven times since 1998- were reported to want him to step down (including a paltry 8% approval rating from Democrats (the party which Weiner represented) nationally)? I would be inclined to think so, until I noticed that it was still a solid 2-3 days before he formally resigned. The bottoming-out was not when he actually resigned, or when the insults came hurling towards him at that press conference*.

No, I would hope that the bottoming out came when Anthony Weiner looked around at his press conference and did not see his wife anywhere. Not in the crowd. Not weeping in the wings. Not located next to him as a show of solidarity. Huma Abedin was nowhere to be found. This has to be rock-bottom. If it is not, then there's little reason to think that Weiner has any redeeming qualities whatsoever, and has been permanently polluted by power.

Power must be an incredibly potent thing, as more and more people are getting caught up in having so much of it that they become blinded to the consequences of their actions, and the warning signs that pop up along the way. In Weiner's case, there were easily a half dozen billboard-sized warning signs that he should get out of office and repair his damaged personal life. Any one of these- had they been listened to- would have resulted in far less damage to his precious public image. Instead, he has lost the confidence of his district, his party, and his leader. What you think of his wife staying with him is, frankly, irrelevant. It has been made painfully clear during this ordeal that the power and prestige of being a Congressman is priority number one, and on that front, Weiner has lost it all.

Whatever your indestructibility seems to be when you have enough power, this stuff DOES get out. It happened to Kennedy. It happened to Clinton. It has happened to people in power more times than should be allowed. What made Weiner think it wouldn't happen to him, particularly because of the role of technology over the years?

The biggest problem I have with Weiner doesn't rest with the personal scars on his marriage, or his political fall from grace, and it CERTAINLY doesn't rest with the fight over his Congressional seat (if kept after the re-district movement, do you really think a Republican candidate will stroll into Brooklyn and Queens and lay claim to it?). Of course not. The problem I have is that this man was elected to represent the people in his district. That's what you are when you are elected into office in this country: Representative of the people. And the people don't like dick shots. They don't like liars. And they certainly don't like the combination of the two. Whatever it was that made Weiner think he had a right to keep his seat after the people who voted him INTO office demanded that he leave office must be taken chilled with a chaser of ignorance.

Your job as a public official is to serve the people. If the people vote you in, you are at their will. You present issues they have to the rest of the legislative body and you figure it out. Even if that problem is you. Them's the breaks. Or did no one teach that at Congress 101? The power is said to lie within the people. At what point is that on-ramp missed? I have confidence that the NYS 9th Congressional district would at no point in the last 7 elections have put Anthony Weiner into office if they knew what was in store for them. It's embarrassing. It's degrading. And it's certainly an unfortunate side effect of power.



* For those hurling insults at the press conference: You make it worse.

Dusting off the blog

I make no guarantees that I will be more dutiful in the steady update of this blog. In fact, I'd be surprised if things shook out that way. However, something happened the other day that got me to thinking that while there is an inherent danger in posting information up on the cloud of the internet, there's no surefire way to keep information on the computer otherwise. The other day, a virus took out documents, pictures, music, etc. from my hard drive. While I am generally really good about getting my work onto an external hard drive, my major writing endeavors were not so fortunate. Works that I had put a lot of effort into, including a book, a script, and a journal...were lost. To say it was a rough afternoon would be putting it mildly. On the other hand, I recognize that it is a bit petty to worry about that sort of thing when in the larger picture, I am doing alright.

In the meantime, rolling into yesterday and the self-assessment that tends to consume my birthdays, it was not off to a rollicking start. In fact, there are few instances where I had felt LESS enthusiastic about a special day. The day itself was nothing too wild: hot, sticky weather; at a sub job with less-than-enthusiastic students; swallowed up in a book. I came home and took a nap to try and beat the heat, had a nice, quiet dinner with Mom, and went to work. Pretty standard. It lacked the punch of, say, an extravaganza.

Fast forward to last night. After trivia, I meandered over to the Dubliner to meet up with some more fellow birthday children for a catch up. While catching up with old friends and acquaintances, I got to talking with my buddy Jay, whom I hadn't seen in ages. We got to talking about old faces from the past and how- with a high school reunion on the horizon- it's been fairly manageable to keep in touch with familiar faces from back in the day. While I won't give ALL of the credit to facebook, it is plainly obvious that the internet has made so much of that possible. We-- those of us who grew up with access to the internet-- are a spoiled generation: communication became easier from the luxury of a distant screen, interaction made bolder and more brazen without the menace of eye-to-eye contact, becoming more and more empowered to do less and less to really test ourselves as the world becomes more accessible at the simple stroke of a few keys. This is not something that has been lost on me.

One of the benefits of this simple interaction is that it is incredibly easy to keep up this communication with people from the past. On a day like yesterday, I was genuinely moved to tears of gratitude that, despite the hazy June doldrums and the downright shitty day that I had, there were a plethora of messages and well wishes waiting for me when I returned home. This simple act of kindness took all of a few seconds to send, text, post, whatever. And yet the impact of that simple short message means the world to me. I felt quite overwhelmed by it (and I am wont to do when I step back). See, it costs very little to send along a message, to take the time to give well-wishes, and so all of that little effort adds up to floor a man.

I am truly humbled to have been given the warm thoughts that I've been given. And thankful. To each and every one of you who took the time to pass along just a little piece of gladness, I say, "thank you". It truly made my day, and made me take stock in the blessings in my life. I sincerely hope that all of you receive the wonderful, and easy-to-give, blessings of a great day in the near future. Thank you!

Back to Belfast, day one

After learning a ton last year on the AOH-FFAI tour of Northern Ireland, I decided to take the plunge again this year. A number of factors went into this decision, including 1) BEING a Hibernian, B) getting a chance to participate in what will likely be the last Bloody Sunday march, III) the fact that I thoroughly enjoyed myself last year, and *) still not having a full-time job. In any event, the Bloody Sunday march- which is the focus of the trip- may not be an option after this year. For those who are unaware, last June saw the long (and over-)-anticipated release of the findings of the Bloody Sunday Inquiry. Essentially, the Bloody Sunday massacre of 1972 had gone so long without any sort of admission of guilt of British troops...until June 15th, 2010. The results- printed in the Saville Report- provide much-sought relief for the families of those who were slain innocently during a peaceful civil rights rally in Derry, Northern Ireland. Every January 30th- or the closest Sunday to it- had seen a march demanding the British government take responsibility for their actions.
Dark day. Despite the black and white pic, this wasn't quite 40 years ago.
Now, the rest of the trip features meetings with numerous groups on either side of the divide of what has become known as "the Troubles", conflict that is largely assumed to be between Catholics and Protestants of Northern Ireland, though like any major conflict, it gets a little more complicated than that. The AOH of the United States supports groups who work to extend a hand across what has traditionally been a gaping divide. Last year, I had a chance to meet a number of people whose work is truly in God's favor. This year, I decided I'd better take a more assertive step in documenting the trip. Without further adeiu, here's day one of the trip....


Snow made travel complicated. After a 14-person group last year, the enthusiasm for the trip has been more vocal, resulting in a group of about 50 people, give or take. This would be great, IF snow hadn't battered the entire Eastern seaboard of the U.S. While a few people arrived a day early for the tour and missed the weather altogether, my flight from JFK to Dublin seemed to be the only one that got out of the northeast on Wednesday. Three of us on the tour were on the same flight, and also had been bumped from a different flight (due to Aer Lingus labor disputes); it was a blessing in disguise. Scrambling for a response from passengers stuck in Newark, Philadelphia, Boston, Atlanta, etc. became difficult, particularly due to the 5-hour time difference and the lack of wireless connection.

Some were forced to enjoy the luxurious airport lodging...

We arrived at about 6:30 a.m. local time. I met Chris and Bud, a father-son duo of Hibernians who had shared my good fortune heading out of New York. We toiled around for the bus that didn't come until about noon. Needless to say, we were pretty beat. After what seemed like a two minute ride (actually 2 hours or so), we arrived at the Balmoral hotel in Belfast. We had stayed here last year, and I recall it being quite nice. We had managed to get a hold of our social director, so we were able to check in, meet up with the folks who arrived earlier, and get our things settled. While we had a nice itinerary written up, weather had really thrown us for a loop.

The 7 of us settled in and met our tour guide, Seamus Kelly. Seamus is our liasion from Coiste tours, whose business is providing interested parties with Irish Political Tours. Rather than glide over the issue of the Troubles, Coiste builds their tours AROUND groups and sites that are intricate parts of the long history of struggles. It's the most informative tour I've ever been a part of. The first step of the tour was a bus tour of Belfast, in particular the areas of town most affected by the Troubles: Ballymurphy, Shankill Road, and The Crumlin Road prison. We checked out where the "Peace walls" were, dividing the city along religious lines in an attempt to quell the intense heat stemming from both sides of the divide. Irish Republicans- whose ideal is based in the idea that all of Ireland should be united and independent- offer their own idea of how effective the "peace walls" were (think divide and conquer), however, making it clear that some wounds don't heal so easily.

The peace walls contained a lot of artwork and graffiti, which largely display ideas of a new generation's ideals of hope and peace. We also stopped for a quick bit of history (audio file) as we parked outside of Divis Tower, which the British army built in response to IRA attacks in the 1960s. It stands as an imposing beacon and reminder of the way things once were, as if a lookout post in the middle of a city-wide prison yard. It has since been disbanded for surveillance and military use, though- like the peace walls- it remains a somber reminder of a darker time. All in all, we saw quite a bit, though of course it is a LOT to take in on the go. Somewhere along the way, I took a brief, but much deserved, nap.

Divis Tower: great view. Advantageous view. Oppressive view?

After a burger and Magner's at the restaurant bar, we went to a local AOH chapter where we met with family members of the people killed at Ballymurphy. The family members told the story of what happened to their loved ones between August 9th and August 11th in 1971, just months before Bloody Sunday. The stories that we read about in textbooks take on new meaning when it is a first-person account, when it has that touch of personal impact attached to it. It was a VERY moving series of stories, and as my fellow Hibernians and I discussed with these people how to raise awareness (I hadn't ever heard of Ballymurphy before last year's trip to N. Ireland, and I'm sure that I'm not alone), I felt a strong sense of anger and camaraderie all at once. Here's a link to the work that these people do: http://www.ballymurphymassacre.com/

Essentially, the public attention given to Bloody Sunday is vastly greater than that given to Ballymurphy. In a world where we've grown to hold our soldiers accountable for every single action they perform (both in combat and away from it), there is an egregious injustice being done in a part of the world where such behavior is reprehensible. Public awareness must take hold if the powers that be are ever to admit to a wrongdoing which has cost over 50 children a parent.

Coming soon: day two, and hopefully the arrival of more tourists.
Washed a long day down with some delicious cider.