Chapter 89.8: Songs, Suicides, and Sitting Around

When I get the chance, I like to listen to music. For many years, I wrote music and lyrics, and I always feel like I can pretty much jump back into it at any moment even though I know my guitar muscles need to get back in shape. These days, most of the music I hear is sung by, to, or with a muppet, so I'm not sure I should attempt to write any music at the moment unless I'm ready to get heckled by two-year-olds.

But a song that still catches my attention is one that Dave Matthews came out with a couple years ago: Funny the Way It Is. In essence, it's about perspective. He describes children playing in the park on a beautiful sunny day; their cries of joy become mixed with the sound of a fire engine's siren and he reflects on how someone's home is burning down "on a day like this."

I especially love the lyric: Funny the way it is, not right or wrong/
Somebody's heart is broken, it becomes your favorite song.

I've written songs like that. The lyrics just ring so true.

Although I didn't hear the song this morning, it's one of the things that crossed my mind after hearing about my train being delayed this morning. Apparently in the early morning hours of the day soon ending, a person "trespassed" onto the tracks and was struck by a train. Hours later, trains were still delayed. I got into my office at least a half hour later than usual.

I suspect things were worse for the person who was killed by the train — worse still for that person's family. I wondered if it was drunken stupidity that led the person to the tracks before dawn or the prospect of yet another day of sadness that brought about that fatal decision. I don't know and never will.

On the train, a few people complained about the delay, the crowded conditions that resulted. But not many. Personally, I think folks in New Jersey understand that terrible things could happen to anyone and it's best not to dwell on them. Respect the moment, thank God you and your loved ones are ok, and move on to whatever is next.

Tonight, I'm thinking about that person whose life ended not twenty-four hours ago. I'm hoping the sun shines in blue skies, but I know that if it doesn't I'll be able to get through the day. And I pray that you're all well.

In the meantime: Sing. Sing a song...

My Three Songs: 03/23/11

1. Bad Company - Shooting Star
2. Guns n' Roses - Live & Let Die
3. Kiss - Beth

Theme :: The death of Elizabeth Taylor.

Jessica Fashano Suicide Photos

Jessica Fashano jumped from the top of the forty story Trump Tower and now her family and friends are trying to figure out why a woman with such a bright future would take her own life.

According to NYPD Jessica Fashano jumped from the roof and landed on a third floor roofed courtyard and died instantly. Jessica Fashano worked for citigroup as an analyst and was active in the charity group The Acumen Fund.

pixax

My Three Songs: 12/03/10

1. Pearl Jam - Jeremy  (from "Ten")
2. Rush - The Spirit of Radio
3. Steve Goodman - Go Cubs Go

Theme :: Ron Santo, #10, the long-time Cubs' third baseman and radio announcer.  Santo died this morning due to complications from  bladder cancer and diabetes.  

My Three Songs: 11/29/10

1. Bad Company - Shooting Star
2. Golden Earring - Radar Love LIVE (from "The Naked Truth")
3. Aerosmith - Janie's Got a Gun

Theme :: Star of the Naked Gun films, Leslie Nielsen, who died yesterday.  I am serious.  And stop calling me Shirley.  Video clips below for your enjoyment...

6 Ways Your Office Is Literally Killing You

Just in case you needed another six reasons to not want to go to work today...

Six Ways Your Office Is Literally Killing You

Uh Oh...

Spaghetti O's creator (and Wisconsin native) Donald Goerke died today.  I'm going to have some SpaghettiO's with Meatballs in his honor.

http://abcnews.go.com/Business/wireStory?id=9553277

Ken Ober - R.I.P.

I'm crushed... the host of the greatest game show in television history has died.

No, not Bob Barker, Monty Hall, or Bob Eubanks. Not even Bert Convy, Peter Tomarkin, Richard Dawson, or even Tom Woolery.

I'm talking about the Quizmaster of 72 Whooping Cough Lane... Ken Ober. Host for all five seasons of MTV's first original non-musical program... the game show "Remote Control."

If you don't remember Remote Control or never saw an episode, I've got a full one for you below in two parts. Enjoy. We'll miss you Ken.

RIP Swayze

Sure, Patrick Swayze was in a bunch of B-level movies like Road House and Point Break. But those movies are still pretty entertaining. Even if we had to deal with crap like Ghost and Dirty Dancing.

But most importantly, Patrick Swayze gave us the following sketch from Saturday Night Live. Still one of the funniest ever.

Chapter 79: Anticipating the End of the World

I'm glad that when the Large Hadron Collider is turned on, I should be snoozing away. That way, I'll be right where I need to be when the world comes to an end.

There are some folks who believe that this apparatus, where photons are sent zipping around a 17-mile track, could create black holes. The fear is that that such a creation could blink out all existence on the planet — indeed, the planet itself, Poof! Gone. Interesting little bit of irony: the act of creation leads to the end of existence. I'd like my irony with a nice single malt on the side, please.

While making black holes would essentially prove Stephen Hawking's theory on the subject, the destruction of life as we know it wouldn't help him receive the Nobel Prize he'd deserve. Thankfully, Hawking doesn't expect the world to end tomorrow. I have more faith in his forecast on this issue than the other whack jobs who are predicting death and destruction. Given the proximity of a different anniversary, I could deal without the major loss of life, thank you.

But if I don't hear from anyone after 3:30 EDT tomorrow morning, I call shotgun in the sportscar to oblivion.

Chapter 77.7: Bobby Murcer, One of the Good Yankees

In my family, being a Yankee fan has never been an option. I've heard from my brothers that they rooted for Mickey Mantle, but not for the Yankees per se. Indeed, by the time the Miracle Mets won it all in 1969, we were already a family of Mets fans and I never knew anything but rooting for the Mets, despite the terrible teams of the late 70s.

Around the time the Mets were stinking up the National League and I was collecting baseball cards, Bobby Murcer was moving toward the tail end of his career. I remember watching Murcer play against the Mets when he was a member of the Cubs, and my older brothers told me about how he was always their favorite Yankee after Mantle retired after the 1968 season.

When he returned to the Yankees, I was able to watch him a little more regularly. (Just because I hated the Yankees didn't mean I wouldn't watch them. It was baseball, after all. I rooted for their opponents.) But it was always hard to root against Bobby Murcer.

I was rooting for him to beat the cancer in his brain, but I think any fan knew it was not quite the same as when he stood at the plate during the game after he'd delivered the eulogy for his close friend Thurman Munson. Murcer hit a homer and drove in the winning run that day. Yesterday, Murcer succumbed to the disease.

I'm a Mets fan and a Yankee hater, but there is always room on a team for a player like Bobby Murcer. He was known for his class and wit. I believe that most non-Yankee fans regarded Murcer as one of the good guys. My thoughts go out to his family.

Chapter 65.9: Death of a Huckleberry

As a Met fan, I was never a huge follower of Phil Rizzuto. I knew him at first as the incredibly annoying and unhelpful announcer for the hated Yankees -- he worked with Frank Messer and Bill White back in the late 70s, when my love of baseball hit full bloom. And I knew his voice from Meatloaf's song, Paradise by the Dashboard Lights. (Remember when it was almost rare to hear that song?!)

But I grew to appreciate that he loved his team -- a team that had offered him a chance when all the others had told him he was too small. Rizzuto repaid their confidence (or was it just a joke at first? 'Let's see what this pip-squeak can do. It might be funny') with his natural abilities -- speed and fielding prowess -- and became an important part of the Yankee dynasty of the 1940s and early '50s, winning the Most Valuable Player Award in 1950, when they defeated the Whiz Kid Philadelphia Phillies in the World Series. I would never like the Yankees, and I wouldn't be a Rizzuto fan, but I could respect him and his loyalty.

I delivered medicines to his mother when I had a job for a local pharmacy in high school, and I wondered if I'd ever see him there. Never happened. But I briefly met Rizzuto once. It's more accurate to say I nodded in his direction and he nodded back. I was attending a wake for a friend's mother about 20 years ago. And Phil Rizzuto was standing at the front of the chairs in the funeral parlor. My friends in line with me whispered "Hey, it's Phil Rizzuto," and I heard the man ask who all these guys were. We were fraternity brothers of his grand-nephew. "Oh, the boys from Lafayette," I heard him say. That's when I nodded, and he nodded back.

Not exactly a moment of greatness or epiphany, but it happened.

So, I'll say a little prayer that God has enough room in his field for the little guy who lived in New Jersey for all those years and told stories about baseball and cannolis and called the guys in the broadcast booth and down on the field "Huckleberries."