nah pop, no style

File under “stupid things people say that are then broadcast on TV:”

It’s nothing new to say that Rudy Giuliani has all his eggs in one basket in Florida. It is, in fact, the prevailing cliche. However, last night on the news I saw a brief sound byte in which a woman said that he had all his eggs in one basket and “if they don’t hatch, he’s in trouble.”

Call me pedantic, but I’m pretty sure once you put your eggs in a basket, you don’t really WANT them to hatch. In fact, you might be a bit taken aback if they do. If you really want your eggs to hatch, put them in a NEST.

This misguided extension of a cliche metaphor calls to mind the time years ago — and forgive me if I’ve written this one before — when a sheriff from some podunk place outside of Pittsburgh said on the news of some vandals: “They came through here like a bull in a china closet.”

In our spectacular society, we assume that everything that seems coincidental must have been contrived.

Here are two local news items this week that I immediately assumed — almost certainly incorrectly — were staged by the people involved:

Ravenstahl spots planner at Pitt game, sends him back to Hill meeeting.

Immediate assumption: this guy was willing to take a fall so that the mayor could look good. I guess the more likely root is that the guy really did just go to the game of his own accord and the mayor immediately realized that HE would be the one who got shit over this, since we in the media like to give him shit about things like this. I mean, seriously, Todd. Luke Ravenstahl giving you flak about skipping out on a meeting for a sports game is like Jack Kevorkian laying into you for helping someone commit suicide.

MFONE gets arrested the day before an art show he’s part of opens at the Mattress Factory.

Immediate assumption: Mattress Factory maven sees the publicity value in having one of the artists in her show arrested on the eve of the opening, sets him up to get caught. The other fun part of this article is the detective-cum-critic from the city police:

Detective Frank Rende, who has been involved in Mr. Montano’s case, has described him as “a real talent. He’s an artist, a vandal-slash-artist. These other guys are copycats. But they’re all vandals.”

For those of you who are more visual learners, here’s a venn diagram, with added commentary from Montano’s dad taken into account:

Montano belongs in that tiny red spot where “real artists, vandals, super nice guys, and amazing painters” all intersect. What a dude!

First things first: my DAMN CROSSWORD I WROTE MYSELF ran in yesterday’s paper; it’s available online here for those of you who are out of town, but you’ll have to print that little baby out if you wanna do it, since we aren’t capable of making our own java interactive puzzle things. Please enjoy!

Furthermore, I ate with Ms. Holly G last night at the Green Mango/Noodle Hut on Braddock Ave.; it was literally the first time I’d been there since moving into the neighborhood 7 months ago. Tasty Thai food, though slightly pricier than the Bloomfield joints. I had the Penang Tofu and it was good. I’m intrigued by the “Magic Tofu” dish; maybe next time I’m there I’ll hit it up. Also, I dig the ambience and the tableware (which is usually something I don’t notice at restaurants).

Then I finished reading Jeff Vail’s A Theory of Power, which has been in my Top Serious Things in the sidebar for months (I’m bad at keeping up with that, and I started it then let it go a while then just finished it). I’m into it for a lot of reasons, and have a few qualms, and I’ll discuss that with you soon, maybe in the context of also discussing with you my other current read, which is the kids’ classic, My Side of the Mountain. Suffice it to say, I think Sam Gribley would do quite well in Jeff Vail’s hamlet economy.

For once, AltWeeklies.com picked a story of mine that I actually LIKED to syndicate. I usually have no idea what’s going on in their brains; when I write hokey shit that no one ought to like, they showcase it, and when I write something I’m proud of, it’s ignored. Thanks this week, kinda weird AAN website!

This week, pick up a damn paper if you’re in town, because I wrote a crossword and it’ll be in our Winter Guide. It’s the thing I’m proudest of since starting this job I think. Also, don’t look at the theater sidebar until you’ve finished the puzzle! Some of the answers will be RIGHT THERE if you do. And you don’t want to be a dirty inadvertant cheater.

In other news, I sat around and read and watched TV this weekend. The Chargers beat the Colts. That was alright. I still want to see someone beat the dumb Patriots. Ideally, it’ll be the Packers, in the big game. We’ll see.

Oh yeah, and the Screaming Females show was really good — they were hella tight, and the Dirty Faces were really good, and it was funny to see them with matching cans of Coke and Canada Dry.

Yes, this made me laugh a great deal.

Also, while we’re at it, witness reason #928301210 why Darby Conley rules it.

First order of business: yesterday’s paper included my Screaming Females preview. Read and enjoy! Show is tonight at Roboto.

Now then, my story:

Last night was Pub Quiz. When I got home from Pub Quiz, I realized that after my run yesterday, I had thrown my house keys somewhere and didn’t put them back with my car key and other keys. So I was locked out of my house, at about 12:30.
Fortunately, I saw that my landlord’s light was still on (he lives on the first floor). He’s a little paranoid and would be freaked if someone rang his doorbell at 12:30 (sure, so would I, but the point is that he’s especially paranoid, in my opinion). So I figured I’d call him.

When I went to call, my phone was in roaming mode, which barely ever happens, especially in/around my house. And while I swear when I was in roaming before it would just find a tower and I’d get charged more on my bill, this time I got a prerecorded message telling me I could either call collect or sign up using my credit card for some third-party roaming service. I didn’t really feel like either was particularly viable, so I decided to bite the bullet and ring the bell.

I stood there a minute and I didn’t see him come near the window or anything, so I worried he might just be ignoring it out of fear — which he would likely do. So then I was totally crushed — couldn’t call anyone, couldn’t get into my house, it was 12:30 so I didn’t really feel like just rolling up to someone’s house was an option. I walked back to my car (which was fortunately right in front of my house) and got in to think about what to do.

Then I saw his lights turn out. Then a few seconds later they turned back on. Then the porch light turned on. I jumped up out of the car and he came out onto the porch, gleeful to see that it was just me, and I said “OH MY GOD I’M SO GLAD YOU CAME OUT” and he said “Yeah, I was gonna ignore it, then I figured maybe I should check . . . I got my piece in my back pocket here, I had to go back and get it before I came out.”

Then all was well, and we jovially remarked about how great it was that he didn’t get spooked and shoot me.

Sorry, I’ve been in deliberation about the site, and also in New Year’s melancholy. I’ll try to snap out of it I guess.

Check out my couple of reviews in this week’s paper . . . also, I ended up sort of accidentally writing the whole music part of the year-in-review lists feature, which wasn’t at all comprehensive, but that’s sort of how I like it. Lists are annoying. To write, that is.

Next week I’ll have a feature running about Screaming Females, whom I’ve repped for before in this very space. They’re playing Roboto next Thursday, the 10th, with the Dirty Faces and another band called The Library is On Fire. Those of us who have worked in libraries DON’T EVEN JOKE ABOUT STUFF LIKE THAT OKAY!??!?!

Elsewise, trying to be healthy and try out new hobbies for the new year. Vague enough for you? Eh, deal with it. More later. Go Steelers.

xoxo!