so, here's my question...

When did Steven Cojocaru morph from a Steven Tyler doppelganger



to a Chastity Bono doppelganger?



Just curious. This question comes via Maria and her watching of Dr. Phil with me while on IM last night.

r.i.p., red

I'm coming out of exile to note the passing of the legendary (which is not at all hyperbolic here) Celtics coach Red Auerbach. Don't believe me about his legendary status? Check out the nine-page obit in the Boston Globe. And yes, it's the top story above the fold in the print edition.

Despite my fervent Red Sox fandom today, I was much more of a Celtics fan as a kid. I'm sure this is because at the time they were winning, and I had yet to appreciate any sport for its intricacies of strategy. Moreover, my hometown was a basketball town. Our high school teams almost always made the playoffs, and a few times they walked away with the state championship.

After all, the Celtics were the 1986 Boston team that actually won a championship! If I had access to all my photos from high school (most of them are still at my parents' house), this entry would be accompanied by a picture of a 15-year-old heathalouise cozying up the Red statue that sits on a park bench in Faneuil Hall. But alas, the Celtics were the object of my cheering in the mid-80s. I'm pretty sure that their rivalry with the Lakers is responisible for my quasi-irrational hatred of Los Angeles. (Note I said quasi. No offense, but I really, really hate that town.) And Red Auerbach was the flamboyant personality I will always associate with that time, along with the team of Frankensteins (Robert Parish, Kevin McHale, Larry Bird -- dudes all looked like some form of the monster) that were the '80s Celtics.

So I'll raise a glass to Red tonight. And pray that at some point the Celts become a viable team again.

just let us state for the record, there's no stopping this rising star

So, I'm going to be out of commission for the next week or so as I write my preliminary exams (ABD is so close I can taste it!). I leave you with this media relic, New England's answer to "The Super Bowl Shuffle." Ladies and gentlemen, the Soundtrack Studio Singers with "New England, The Patriots, and We:"

i want you to get excited about your life!

According to the LA Times, Dr. Phil is incredibly popular in Iraq. I find this fascinating, but I just can't articulate why. Perhaps it's because it's such a warped view of the U.S. (Or is it? I really feel as if I don't know anymore.) [via TV Tattle]

bono and i have a deep connection

So today's Oprah is all about pimping the Red Campaign with Bono and various other celebs. One of the segments was Bono and Alicia Keys performing their new duet, a cover of Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush's "Don't Give Up." This is the song that Anthony and I performed at karaoke on Sunday with hilarious results.

Add this to the Red Sox World Series win reference on this week's Lost, and my week is consisting of all kinds of media-related serendipity.

there's alway other boys, there's always other boyfriends

I wish that "You Can Make Him Like You" by the Hold Steady existed when I was a teenager. Except for those lyrics about getting high alone...but other than that, you know, good stuff.

I'm digging the new record, except for the guest vocals on "Chillout Tent." The female vocals are too wussy. I'd rather hear strong backing vocals like the ones on "Your Little Hoodrat Friend." But as I was saying, other than that, good stuff.

i miss the 20th century

This weekend wound up being a true ‘90s throwback. It started when Maria and I hit the church to see Harvey Danger on Friday night. They rocked it out, and it was great to see this guy for the first time in ages. Confidential to fans: don't tell a lead singer that you think the new album isn't as good as their previous work, because he just might call you on it while onstage.

After the show, we took HD and So Many Dynamos to Pat's for the obligatory cheesesteak. Once we were done scarfing down disgustingly delicious things, we stood for a little bit soaking in the vernacular of South Philly. A stretch Hummer limo drove by, and we all, spontaneously and independently of each other, cheered in that mocking obnoxious way that sniffling indie kids do so well. Good, good times.

Saturday consisted of seeing Built to Spill at the Troc. It was boring, and the audience was riddled with d-bags who would find any way to be annoying, be it by getting in your way, sitting on the floor or by drunkenly screaming for "The Plan." Camper Van Beethoven went way too far into Dad Rock territory, so much that I think I may actually prefer Cracker. I guess that's what my world needs now.

Sunday's '90s festivities consisted of seeing my undergraduate mentor reading at AKA Music. We then headed to karaoke, where I managed to butcher Kate Bush's part in Peter Gabriel's "Don't Give Up." At least it made for some hilarious photos. I have decided my next karaoke jam is going to be "Fist City."

And just to prove that I'm not living in the last decade, I'm digging the new Hold Steady record. Which, of course, may mean I'm now stuck in the '70s. Hooray for Springsteen!