Leaving On a Jet Plane: Manny Out, Bay In

(Above) One of about a million examples showing how Manny dogs it to first; this one just happened to get caught on camera. Trust me, its not like the guy shooting spotted a UFO or something. In this instance, a bad throw was still enough to get Manny because he took more than five seconds to reach the bag.

"I have never had any interest in owning a Manny Ramirez t-shirt jersey."

These are the words I uttered to Chrissty one humid night on our front porch when she asked which Red Sox players' t-shirt jersey I wanted to purchase next. My answer left her perplexed.

"How could you not want his jersey. He's one of your best players. Look at what he has done."

In my mind, the answer was simple. "He's not a dirt dog. He's never been a hustle, leave it all on the field kind of player."

This conversation was the first thing that popped up in my mind when I heard that Manny had been dealt to the Dodgers in a three team switch-a-roo that brought Jason Bay from Pittsburgh to Boston. Am I disappointed to see the dreadlocked wonder go? Sure. The guy is a lock for the Hall of Fame. He and Big Papi, David Ortiz, were the most feared 3 and 4 hitters since DiMaggio and Ruth. Just in a Red Sox uniform alone he hit around 250 homers, drove in countless runs, and provided many key hits on the way to two World Series championships for the former chronic losers. But, on the other hand, I'm not crying my eyes out. In fact, after years of Manny trade speculation, I'm smashing a bottle of Sutter Home on the private jet flying him to L.A. and saying bon voyage because I'll no longer have to dry heave at his shrugged shoulders approach to the game.

For non-Sox fans, trading Manny must seem insane. "So what if the guy is outrageous sometimes. He just likes to have fun, lighten up. Who are you, the Yankees?"

Sure, I get it...As long as he hits and plays decent in left who cares if he doesn't hustle. It's just Manny being Manny.

There isn't a saying in sports that I despise more. Sure, I'll admit it. I laughed my ass off when he took a piss in the Green Monster a few years back, and, earlier this year, when he caught a fly ball on the run, ran up the wall, high-fived a fan, and threw a guy out at second. But, these aren't the Manny moments I have a problem with. I have issues with the Manny being Manny moments that don't make it to SportsCenter: him constantly dogging it to first, him turning a ball off the wall from a triple into a single because he has to admire what he thinks is a homerun while he skips out of the box instead of RUNNING and him threatening every year to leave even though John Henry and company pay him a fortune and the fans love him.

On a team of guys who care a great deal, dirt dogs like El Capitan Jason Varitek, Curt Schilling, Dustin Pedroia, Mike Lowell, Big Papi, and Kevin Youkilis, the '08 Manny was a Steel Reserve in a bucket of Sam Adams Boston Ale. He made his individual goal, money, more important than the team goal, winning, so the Red Sox did the right thing showing that no player, no matter how Hall of Fame bound he may be, is greater than hoisting the World Championship trophy in October.

So long Manny. I'm sure you'll have much better luck in L.A. because it is a city that caters to people with egos and attitudes just like yours.

I'm looking forward to the Jason Bay chapter in Boston. This season the former All-Star and Manny are sharing similar stats, although Bay plays much better defense. Also, I see him becoming a much more consistent 30 homer 100 RBI type of player batting in front of the titanium plated protection of Big Papi, and he's from Canada so maybe he can help the Bruins out during the off-season.

However, while I'm optimistic, the one variable no one can predict is the pressure playing in Boston provides; We've seen Boston eat up All-Star caliber players before (Edgar Renteria to name the most recent). Plus, Bay has additional pressure in that he's never been in a playoff chase, and he's replacing one of the best hitters in the history of the game.

For now, as long as he hustles to first and runs out his round trippers, I'm happy.

Photos taken from bostondirtdogs.com (originally shot by Jim Davis of the Boston Globe), rotorob.com and cbc.ca

Ninja Gun "Restless Rubes" 4/5

Uninspired corporate FM is brainwashing the world and Valdosta is no exception as the maniacal Black Crow has the city's citizens shackled in a similar state. There is hope in homegrown punk-country heroes Ninja Gun and their latest album Restless Rubes.

If you haven't heard of the self described Podunk kids before, the term punk-country might incite shivering, thumbsucking flashbacks to the Tim McGraw/Nelly mash-up of yesteryear, but, fear not, Ninja Gun's Replacements meets Tom Petty chased with a PBR sound will keep your toes tapping at the next hootenanny (or shindig, if you prefer).

The band's South Georgia heritage is clear upon first listen, although I'm disappointed to hear nobody blowing on a jug or tickling a washboard. Musically, Ninja Gun sounds like a combination of the country ditties the guys listened to in their daddys' pick-up truck and the rock/punk abominations they championed away from freezing glares.

Lyrically, the entire album illustrates the band's love/hate relationship with its Deep South upbringing; for example, beginning with the album's title track "Restless Rubes," where frontman Johnathan Coody laments "Painted in shades of grey/The uniform they praise/Why should it end this way?" and later on "Red States Blues" with "In a present state of bright red/I'm legendarily alone."

This album is a complete experience whether you're driving 80 mph down dusty back roads listening to "Eight Miles Out" (my favorite song of '08 so far), or making out under the stars in an F-150 listening to "Life is Loud." Restless Rubes proves Ninja Gun belongs in the same class of young Southern bands like Band of Horses who are redefining the meaning of Southern rock.

photos taken from myspace.com/ninjagun

The Dark Knight (The Best Movie Ever?)

Tim Burton is a master director and Jack Nicholson is classic as the Joker, but, my apologies good sirs, The Dark Knight just made your involvement in the Batman series of movies as irrelevant as Katie Holmes' (I don't wannnaaa waiitttt.....) disappearing act from the latest installment in director Christopher Nolan's new and improved series. The Dark Knight is awesome, action-packed, bad assery from start to finish. Where movies before have failed to live up to their grandiose expectations (cough, cough the Star Wars prequels, Matrix sequels, and, of late, Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull), this film takes a sledge hammer to any and all nay sayers.

Starting from where Batman Begins leaves off, Batman (Christian Bale) and Lt. James Gordon (Gary Oldman) are trying to rid Gotham City of its nefarious underbelly, but a pesky, purple suited newcomer, who calls himself the Joker (Heath Ledger), keeps getting in the way. Enter the White Knight, District Attorney Harvey Dent (Aaaron Eckhart), and, now, it's the Three Musketeers against the demonic clown, played by Ledger to Oscar worthy perfection (wow, whoduh thought, really, the guy from A Knight's Tale).

This film is currently the best picture of 2008 for several reasons: First, it's the darkest of all the Batman films, a black hole compared to Burton's fun house hallways and Kilmer and Clooney's puke inducing night-lighted bedrooms.

Second, it's not just non-stop action. Don't get me wrong, the action scenes are killer, but this film goes beyond BAMS and BLAMS, bringing up themes that are relevant today: for example, how do you fight an enemy who lives on a different moral plane, is killing ever justified and how far should civil liberties be suppressed in order to keep the world safe.

Lastly, the acting in this movie is superb. Everybody does their part; Maggie Gyllenhaal is an improvement over Holmes, and Bale is fantastic, although I couldn't help chuckling the first time I heard Bale switch from playboy Bruce Wayne voice to "I will eat your heart" Batman voice. The man of the hour, however, is Ledger. Jack had the smile, but Ledger's punk rock portrayal of the Joker is a nightmare on screen. Generations from now will ask, "What if" because of the actor's untimely death.

If you have a beating heart or an operating pacemaker you must see this film. This could be the best movie ever made; fuck Citizen Kane and rosebud.

SPOILER ALERT: DON'T READ IF YOU PLAN ON SEEING THE MOVIE.

The Internet is already buzzing about who will play the Joker in the next film because the villain does not meet his demise. Daniel Day Lewis seems like a perfect choice, although, like Ledger, another young up and comer like James McElvoy could be great too. Usually, actors would be jumping at this role, but failing to live up to Ledger could be career suicide if left in the wrong hands.

Photos taken from batman-movie-buzz.com and ign.com

Atlanta Trip (The Prosecution Rests - Me Thinks I Have ADD)

Last weekend Chrissty and I did our best Snake Plissken impression, sans eyepatches, and escaped from Valdosta to the big city of Atlanta. Before I get into the details, here is one note of interest:

Gas in Atlanta was $4.02 vs. $3.99 in Valdosta when we got back Sunday night. Correct me if I'm wrong, but something seems odd about this, especially considering people actually get paid real money there and aren't expected to volunteer their time like they are here. Clearly, gas prices do not reflect standard of living/something sinister is going on.

FRIDAY

The drive up went smoothly, and we ran into an old friend and Spectator refugee, Dave, at a random gas station on the Macon bypass. As the ride annoyingly sings, it really is a small world after all. Then, an hour or so later, I did my best Da Gama impression trying to navigate the Atlanta streets with a cell phone in one hand getting directions from Travis to the Midtown Tavern, a wheel in the other, and nothing but confusion in my head.

I went down a hill and, unknowingly, the bar and a screaming Travis were right next to us. We couldn't see them because of the steepness of the hill. Well, a homeless guy was trying to get our attention because Travis was yelling at us, but I thought he was yelling because we were blocking traffic or something, so we pulled into a Post Office across the street. In my haste and excitement, somehow, I managed to lock the keys in the car....while they were in the ignition.......while the car was still running. Not my best moment and the final straw in Chrissty and my battle over whether I should be taking ADD meds too. The worst part was we didn't realize what I had done until almost two hours later when we left the bar. Here's how the conversation went:

"Chrissty get our keys out of your purse (I didn't have pockets in my driving shorts/comfortable gym shorts)

"I don't have them (followed by 10 minutes of searching)

I check in the bathroom thinking I left them on the shelf, ask the bartender, get a shrug and a sorry, then take the anxious "OH SHIT!" strides back to the car shaking my head hoping there's no way they could be in there.

SURPRISE!!! There they were. This is only the third time since I started driving at age 17 that I have locked the keys in the car, the first time with the Mazda, and the first time I've actually left the car running. Good news; I have AAA, and they said they would put me on the priority list meaning my wait would only be TWO HOURS.

Luckily, there was a locksmith in our midst in the homeless guy who was yelling at us earlier. His name is Charlie and he was a really nice guy. He came out of the brush with a pair of needle nose pliers and a wire a little thicker than a coat hanger. He asked if he could give it a shot. I figured sure because A) The night would be ruined if we had to wait two hours and B) Chrissty would give me the flogging of my life if we didn't get out of this jam. So, Charlie went to work.

Honestly, it was pretty impressive. Granted, I know his help was coming at the expense of a lifetime of stolen cars, but I was amazed that he was able to open our door a crack with the pliers and get a wire onto the lock in only about five minutes. It ended up being a $20 lesson in how easily somebody can steal our car because AAA called back and said they would only be 15 minutes, so we told Charlie not to sweat it and gave him 20 bucks for his trouble. Unfortunately, I saw Sunday afternoon that he had scratched the car to hell in the process, but, at the time we were desperate and we were able to help out a seemingly nice guy down on his luck. So, we're not too upset, especially considering you can only see the scratches when the driver door is open.

Long story short, the whole ordeal only cost us $20, a notch of gas, and a half hour. Not bad if you ask me. I'm charging $10 per cup for the lemonade we made from those lemons.

The night didn't really get much better from there. We headed to a techno club called the Apache Cafe. Techno is not our thing, but Travis's friends were going there, so we went and then were stood up because they got wasted and passed out. I've been there and understand, but I was still pretty pissed because we paid 10 bucks just to get into the joint. Eventually, we headed to the Estoria, which looked like the type of establishment where revolutions get started, a chill, deep discussions with your neighbor kind of place, but, after a long and frustrating night, Chrissty and I got into it, and it was homeward bound from there.

At least we were introduced to some great new music on the way into the city by my Christopher Columbus of quality tunes, Travis, when he played some of the Atlanta based, indie rock band, Morning State's album "You Know People I Know People" Stand out tracks include "Sad Is When I'm Driving" and "Out For a Walk."

SATURDAY

Travis took us to IKEA because we had never been there. While there was a lot of cool stuff that made the consumer section of my brain salivate, I kept thinking of Edward Norton before his change in Fight Club sitting on the toilet ordering stuff out of the catalog. No, I never saw the Ying Yang coffee table but I was looking for it.

From there we went to the Mexican/Cuban restaurant, La Fonda Latina, located in Atlanta at 923 Ponce De Leon Ave NE, where we loaded up on their excellent food. The waiter forgot about us (we were nestled in a corner but still...) so we loaded up on three bowls worth of chips and queso. After about a half hour of waiting for the waiter to come back after getting Chrissty's salad order, and another 15 minutes or so for the food to arrive, I was treated to my first ever Cuban sandwich; I cannot see any of its brethren ever topping it as it was perfection in my mouth. While the service of our primary waiter stunk (the guys handling the chips and water were excellent) I recommend La Fonda to everyone. Check out the upstairs covered patio area for a nice view in the shade while you eat.

With full stomachs, we went to Little Five Points and checked out the wares. I was disappointed to see an American Apparel there as Little Five is an eclectic, unique kind of place where corporate entities should be off limits. Admittedly, I've never been to one of their stores, but some places just belong in the mall. I was impressed by the two record shops we went in. I cannot remember the name of the first but the second was called Criminal Records, which was featured in Paste's top record shops in the country article last month. One thing I loved about Little Five was all of the music posters floating around. It's amazing what some people can do with a copy machine. Regrettably, I was too full to eat at the Vortex.

Later, we met up with Travis and Emily after skipping out on a wine and cheese testing that Travis was semi-obligated to attend. If they were my friends I would have gone too, but sorry, wine and cheese, unless it's in cube form, are right up there with techno for me. After enjoying a few swigs of Miller Light and Newcastle at Travis's apartment, we ended up at Smith's Old Bar.

This place is great. If Valdosta really wants people to flock downtown they need a locale like this. The place has a little something for everybody not looking to "Walk it Out" - top notch music upstairs with cover, a dark, laid back, central area to sit back and enjoy their $4 Giant Red Stripe special with friends, and a good number of pool tables. If you don't have any dancers/clubbers in your gang, this would be the place to go as it is the ultimate foil to Glo Ultra Lounge.

By the way, if you've never had Red Stripe, I highly recommend a swig. It has a sweet after taste that I have never experienced in any brew before. Also, I love how most of the bars we went to up there had Pabst in a tall can or at least on tap, although everyone knows PBR is the one beer that is best experienced in can form.

The ladies wanted a change of pace so we found ourselves at Moondogs in Buckhead. This was a Valdosta style bar, a lot like 1 a.m. Mellow Mushroom, as chill and laid back were replaced with a crazed college crowd. There was plenty of Souja Boy style dancing and drinking to go around. Earlier in the night I would have been annoyed, but with that right mix full of Red Stripe and PBR, it was a merry ole time. I had another former Spectator sighting in Meg but the loud tunes did not allow for any form of conversation. However, I will give them this: they had Sam Adams Summer Ale on tap and Pabst in a tall can; very nice.

SUNDAY

A perfect day for Six Flags after the late night we had. What was I thinking? Clearly, I wasn't, but I'm a big proponent of living in the moment. We were already running late as we were supposed to meet up with A-Mac, Billy, and Sarah at 10 a.m., and then we hit Atlanta traffic (6 lanes were reduced to 2), so they went into the park without us. After arriving, we had to wait in line for more than an hour (I know now I couldn't survive in a desert for more than half an hour because the sink faucet in the men's room is the only reason I am still alive), so we didn't get in until around 11:30.

NOTE TO SIX FLAGS OVER GEORGIA: Your line area is abysmal. The only thing you're missing is tearing off your customers' clothes, smothering their sweating, stinking bodies in BBQ sauce, and then staking them over live fire ant beds. I cannot believe you haven't had problems with patrons passing out or getting heat stroke while waiting the hour in the hot sun to get into the park. You don't provide any water fountains, and, even more surprising, you don't have any stands selling overpriced bottled water. Also, unlike Universal Studios, you don't have any misters for the folks in line. I hate that last comment because it makes me sound like a spoiled human, trust me I want to slap myself. But they really do help cool people down, which makes for much nicer folks when it comes time to snatch their money.

It was my first time visiting any Six Flags, and, the whole time we were waiting in line, I was thinking, "Why the hell did I come up with this idea," but that annoying voice that continually repeated "More rides, more fun." was actually right. We only rode four rides in about six hours, but it was still a blast. It was pretty much a day of catching up with friends while we sweated in endless lines (I hadn't seen Sarah since she moved to Athens a little while back so that was nice) and eventually reaching the promised land in a ride. Apparently, Adam and Billy are scared of heights but somehow Adam got up the gusto to ride the Goliath, which is imposing for any roller coaster veteran. We all got soaked on the water ride, especially me because I was stuck under the waterfall for what seemed like an hour, but it was welcome in the hot sun. All and all a good time. My only regret is that I missed out on the Superman ride.

Overall, it was a fantastic trip. Really, any excuse to escape Valdosta is good to me. It's too bad David couldn't make the trip up from Macon. I always forget something when I leave for home, and this trip was no exception. I left my Jimi Hendrix t-shirt and our new cooler. Luckily, Travis is coming down next month so I will see him and them again.

All is not lost as I got a lot of new tunes from Travis including Morning State, listed above, Buddy Holly, The Shins, Modern Skirts, and National's "The Boxer." I've been wanting to hear that album for a while now and it did not disappoint. It's amazing and belongs on all of the top 10 in 07 music lists it ended up on. We also enjoyed the Whigs first album, "Give 'Em A Big Fat Lip," during the final hour home. If you haven't heard these guys yet you're missing out on the next big thing. Both of their albums are amazing.

Photos taken from: http://www.size-acceptance.org/, http://www.morningstate.com/, http://www.sixflags.com/, and http://www.marqueemag.com/

Bored at Work (I'm an Idiot)

At home, I mean work, we have this sign that reads "We do not allow animals in our vehicles." In a fit of boredom, as I was sitting there at 11 in the evening waiting on the last flight from Atlanta, I came up with some possible customer responses to this signage. Enjoy.

1. So much for listening to "House of the Rising Sun" on the iPod. I won't be charged a penalty fee if it shows up on the shuffle, right?

2. We're not animals. We're just two wiilllddd and crazzzy guys!

3. How about on the outside of the car? See our friend, Teen Wolf, was really looking forward to car surfing down Patterson St.

4. (I stole this one from "Knocked Up." I couldn't resist.) Can you make an exception for Robin Williams' knuckles?

5. Well charge me for a DVD player then, geesh! I was hoping a game of Jumanji would keep my kids entertained on the way to Orlando.

6. (If I was renting to Kermit the Frog) Fine with me. Fonzie, Ralph, Ms. Piggy and I were not looking forward to eight hours with that spitting loud mouth Animal anyway.

7. Well Sigfried, I guess we'll have to ride our beautiful white tigers all the way to Vegas for the show then. Giddy up!

8. Sorry Cheetara, I know it's midnight but it looks like they won't be able to rent you something after all, and it's going to take me at least a few days to fix your car. You're more than welcome to stay at my house free of charge (creepy wink at me)