Daily Archives: September 3, 2009

Senator Curt Schilling? Frogs in Pepsi cans? It’s a world gone mad


I spent today immersed in the U.S. Open (I must pimp my daily tennis blog here, because who else will, right?) and the hell that is preparing for high school football season (ask a high school sports writer how they feel at this time of year and you’re likely to get enraged or bleary looks that scream out “why, why, why can’t I get a roster

from Coach XYZ?” Basically, it’s how tax attorneys feel on April 13th or so).

But a bunch of little things came across the radar of my mind, so here goes:

**So Curt Schilling, aka the Ultimate Red Sock, a man who I genuinely worry will one day run out of saliva, a man who never lets pass by any opportunity to promote himself, a man who’s so in love with himself I’m amazed he ever actually got married, is apparently thinking of running for Ted Kennedy’s U.S. Senate seat.

There are so many reasons this is a bad idea, I can’t even begin to describe them. Schilling is a blowhard know-it-all, always has been, though I do admire his work to fund a cure for Lou Gehrig’s disease. He’s also a hardcore Republican, who would run as an independent.

Do I think he’d have a chance? Ordinarily I’d say absolutely not, but this is going to be a strange, mad dash kind of an election in Massachusetts, and the dude did win Game 6 against the Yankees.

If he gets in and on the ballot, I may have to fly to my beloved liberal haven of Boston and campaign against him. Anyone know if A-Rod is free to join me? Well, if it’s mid-October, yeah, Alex Rodriguez should be available (ouch, as a Yankees fan, the truth hurts.)

**So, Levi Johnston has proven to be the gift that keeps on giving, huh? Bristol Palin’s baby daddy has just written an article for Vanity Fair’s new issue, and boy, does he have some good stuff to say about Mrs. Sarah Palin.

(Levi Johnston, Vanity Fair author. Somewhere Dominick Dunne is spinning in his newly-dug grave, and Tom Wolfe just grabbed for a bottle of scotch).

Among other things, young Levi says that Sarah can’t even shoot a gun properly (but she was so proud of her Annie Oakley image!), isn’t much interested in being with Todd, and most horrifying of all, she wasn’t even a real Hockey Mom! (And to think, she passed herself off as one despite never going to games. On behalf of Mrs. Gretzky and Mrs. Crosby, I say the NHL hockey moms sue her ass for fraud).

And oh yeah, apparently Sarah wanted to adopt Bristol and Levi’s baby, so the whole world wouldn’t know that her 17-year-old daughter got pregnant.

This was said in the campaign but can’t be emphasized enough, the hypocrisy on the right about Bristol Palin: When young African-American teenagers get pregnant, it’s a sign of our society’s decay. But when a nice white girl who’s Mom happens to be the veep nominee gets knocked up, well, it’s all good and we won’t think less of her for it.

Is there something a little sad about Levi Johnston capitalizing on his few minutes of fame? Yeah. But you know what? This kid never asked for any of this attention. One day he was banging the governor’s daughter, and a week later he’s on stage at the freaking Republican National Convention! That’s bound to screw with anyone’s head, you know?

Levi, keep speaking truth to power!

** So I promised another movie review this week and here goes a short one: The wife and I saw “500 Days of Summer,” on Sunday. Good, not great movie. Love Zooey Deschanel ever since I saw her in “Almost Famous;” she’s just got this alluring smile and weird vibe about her that makes her attractive.

The kid from “Third Rock from the Sun,” is pretty good in it, too. It’s an unconventional love story with some good lines, and it doesn’t end like you’d think, so I give it 3 stars.  I’d give it 2 1/2, but there’s a fantastically fun montage halfway through and if there’s one thing you need to know about me, it’s that I LOVE montages.

It could’ve been better, but I feel like it tried to be too clever by half. It also had some dead spots. But still, pretty good flick.

**Finally, I don’t think I need to say anything else about this story but the following: I am so not surprised that this happened in my backyard in Central Florida, and 2, this shit doesn’t happen in Coke cans, OK?

That’s why I’m a Coke man.