Redneck alcoholic cavalcade

I impulse-purchased a recent issue of Billboard magazine. There was a cover story about Howard Stern I wanted to read. I finished the article on Stern and turned to the back to the Top 50 song listings. I got to the country charts and the following songs were included for the week ending January 25, 2014:

Drink a Beer
Drunk Last Night
Bottoms Up
Drink to That All Night
Whiskey in My Water
Cold Beer with Your Name on It
It Ain’t the Whiskey

Well done, Nashville. Way to perpetuate the drunken redneck-loser stereotype. I don’t have any idea who the artists are singing those songs but I hope they’re proud of themselves. Drinking is to country music what violence is to rap. Make a fast buck glorifying abhorrent behavior and I guess any weak-minded individuals who get hurt along the way are collateral damage. I’m just an uptight, middle-class white dude who isn’t in on the joke. And please don’t try to shame me for disparaging cultures different than my own. This is my sandbox and I’ll call bullshit whenever I see fit.


In my previous post I lamented the growing use of cell phones and tablets as a distraction for children and also the preference we seem to be developing for engaging a device rather than a face-to-face interaction. I went to my kid’s basketball game again this past Saturday and saw a new low, which I didn’t think was possible:

baby computerReally, dad? The baby, too? This kid doesn’t stand a chance. Or am I making too much of it? Go on, give it to me. I can take it.


We had another in a series of horrific snowstorms last week. Last Tuesday, it took me three hours and forty-five minutes to get home from the city. According to my calculations, I can fly from JFK to Turks and Caicos in that amount of time. Here’s what my car looked like when I finally got to the parking lot:

car snowIsn’t that pretty? It looks like something from a pastry shop. Good enough to lick.

Unrelenting sub-zero temps here. Crippling heat in Australia. Droughts of historical proportions in California. While driving down the Garden State Parkway the other day, I saw a snowy owl fly by. A beautiful bird with a large wingspan. (Technically, they’re raptors.) They’re indigenous to Arctic regions and have no business whatsoever being in New Jersey. Experts are at a loss to explain this anomaly.

Good thing we blasted a gigantic hole in the ozone layer. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have these interesting weather patters and broken migration routes.


Here’s a bit of slight of hand mastery for your entertainment. Look carefully and don’t blink or you’ll miss it.



trick1Tee-hee. An oldie but a goodie. I showed my friend and he said he’d probably find it a lot funnier if he was 10-years old. Whatever.


sixth avenue6th Avenue and 47th Street, Tuesday, January 7th, 8:35 p.m.


Exile on Pain Street. Now with a new WordPress skin and, by popular demand, fully functional Like, Follow, Reblog and Share buttons along with comment response alerts (I hope). Still a few kinks to work out. Meeting the demands of a fussy nation since 2008.