Nurse the Hate: Hate Tiger

The Tiger Woods situation is hard to grasp. For years the public has been told Tiger Woods=control, discipline, and perfection. Now as the veneer has slipped away forever, people can't believe it. Women ask, "How could Tiger sleep with all those women with that beautiful wife at home?". Answer: Because he could. He didn't sleep with those girls instead of his wife. He probably slept with them in addition to his wife. While most men would not admit to this kind of behavior, if afforded the opportunity that Tiger Woods has, almost every deadbeat friend of mine would have done the exact same thing. Yeah, I know, it sucks, but that's the way it is...

While the public struggles with the basics of the story, I've moved on to the most compelling part of the whole thing. Woods allegedly slept a woman named Mindy Lawton that worked at a Perkins. Now let's get past the fact that you would assume Tiger would be hooking up with better looking women than Ms. Lawton. The big question no one can seem to answer is this: How the fuck did Tiger Woods meet a woman that worked at Perkins? Are you trying to tell me that he pulled off the interstate and woofed down some pancakes with a whipped cream smiley face and said to himself, "Oh yes, indeed she is the one. At last... My opportunity to make love to a Perkins waitress". Is Tiger Woods really eating at Perkins? Are waitresses at Perkins getting into the A list parties that Tiger Woods must be attending? How in the hell did they even meet each other? Can someone please explain this to me?

If I knew anyone that said to me, "I just met this really hot chick that was working at Perkins." I'd pull them aside for a strong talking to. They would have obviously taken a blow to the head. In the few times I have pulled off the highway and went to Perkins, I remember a restaurant filled with the deformed masses of your typical Southern Indiana Wal Mart. To think of one of the most famous men on the planet is not only eating at Perkins, but hitting on waitresses... It makes your head almost explode. What's next? George Clooney banging some Home Depot check out girl? Peyton Manning hooking up with an overweight single Mom that works at a 7-11? The world is slightly off axis.

There's two ways for Tiger to go in this situation. 1) What he's going to do. 2) What he should do.

What he's going to do is this: He'll be advised to take a leave from golf to do some "soul searching". Rededicate himself as a husband and father. Declare himself a "sex addict". Seek counseling. Remove himself from the public eye. Reappear with the wife and kids at a charity event where he spends a kazillion dollars donating to something no one can criticize... something like "Humanitarian Fund For Amputee Children's Cancer Relief In Flood Ravaged New Orleans". Go on Oprah or a Barbara Walters special and cry as an act of contrition. Win some golf tournaments. Pretend nothing ever happened a la Kobe Bryant.

What he should do: This is a dangerous idea. But I remind you, these are dangerous times. What if Tiger totally sanded down the image and emerged as the guy he really is in an "in your face" way. He could be re-established as the Bad Boy of Golf. A rugged man's man that does whatever he wants, because "Dammit, I've earned it!". Picture this... Tiger holds a press conference and walks out to the crowded dais in that red golf shirt he wears on Sundays. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have had a number of transgressions that have recently been made public. I regret the pain and suffering this has caused my family. However, I would also like to remind everyone that I have a billion dollars and will win another $50 million this year by playing golf. I am going to do whatever I want whenever I want. I'm Tiger Woods! A sound system would then crank up with Salt N Pepa's "Push It" at top volume while Tiger stood next to the podium doing The Robot while reporters scream out unanswered questions.

Now that's a moment. You want to talk about adding interest to the PGA Tour? Heck, I'm even watching now.

Quick Note: I like Cincinnati +6.5 tomorrow. The Bengals have allowed the least points in the NFL, so they should be able to stick close in this one, and maybe even win. MInnesota is the real deal, but 6.5 is too many to a team with a good defense and a good clock eating ground game... Every talking head is saying the Cowboys will win tomorrow at home vs San Diego. Uh-oh. If that line moves to San Diego +4, SHOW ME YOUR THUNDERBOLT!... I love Juan Diaz tonight over Paul Malignaggi. Diaz won a decision in his hometown Houston in their first matchup that was closer than expected due to a cut over Diaz's eye (by headbutt if I'm not mistaken). However, I don't think Pauly can hurt the Baby Bull. He's too light a puncher. Diaz by decision.

Nurse the Hate: Hate the Holidays

Once again I find the Holidays bearing down on me and I am completely unprepared. No gifts have been purchased. No Christmas cards sent. No plan has been formulated. I will once again blindly purchase items while fighting off other desperate saps in the same boat as myself. "Box with that Sir?" What the fuck do you think? You think I am going to wear that small sweater vest? Box that shit up and wrap it if you can! I've got to have gifts in hand Goddammit! Move it Sister!

If you are on my Christmas gift list this year, I would expect a gift that seems poorly thought out and probably purchased in quantity. "Hey! Can I get a price break on these margarita sets if I buy that whole palate?" It's not that I don't care. I do. I just don't have any time to get involved in The Process. Is this a fundamental failure of mine? A deathbed regret that will haunt my nightmares? Yes. Yes it is. Can I do anything about it? No, it doesn't appear so.

The one good thing you should know is that I will not make the complete defeatist move and "donate cash in your name to the Blah Blah Blah fund". People pretend to be happy about that when they receive that card, but we all know they're not. They glance at it, force a smile, mutter how thoughtful that was, and pitch the card in the trash thinking "Shit...doesn't he usually send me those mixed nuts? I sure could go for a macadamia..."

My brother has really taken matters into his own hands. While you are sitting around a crummy Christmas tree listening to your Aunt Sheila ask "Why aren't you married yet?", he's sitting in the Gold Nugget sauna in Vegas sweating out a Bacon Martini. Sure, maybe that Christmas Eve dinner at the Raffles Coffee Shop is a little bleak. ("Gravy on your hot turkey sandwich platter sir?") However, he has managed to successfully deflect the pointless Holiday Hoopla and have a good time. Who needs to have a panic attack hustling to make a Gingerbread House on some party deadline? That green bean casserole your girlfriend is slaving away on? Nobody really likes it, and they just take a spoonful to be polite. After the seven minutes of gorging at the table, no one even remembers what they ate anyway. But yet, it's hard not to get caught in the wave of anxiety that is awash over everything this time of year.

Yesterday I was trying to accomplish 14 hours of activity in 10 available hours and I found myself parking in Chagrin Falls OH. This is a town that looks like a movie set for "quaint". Attractive well dressed people strolled casually with gift bags, poking their heads into shops for pleasant conversation. Perhaps they'll stop for a latte and scone later. I'll bet they have their shopping done. Me? I'll be scarfing down a gas station rollerdog while hurtling down the highway at excessive speed, late for something. How did I get here? Happy fucking holidays.

Random Notes: I have been getting my ass kicked in NFL Football. It is impossible to consistently pick winners in that game. Why do I even try? The Browns covering three weeks in a row hasn't been good for anyone. Well, it's probably been real good for those guys at the Gold Nugget. Tomorrow the Browns get 9 at home vs a struggling Pittsburgh team. Public opinion has shifted to say that the Steelers are done and the Browns will maybe even win. Do I dare bet against the Browns again?... If you like the Rolling Stones "Sticky Fingers" record, you should probably immediately buy the Flamin Groovies "Teenage Head" record. That's the best 6 bucks I've spent in a long time...That Tiger Woods situation is the most compelling thing I've seen in a long time. It's a horrible car crash with bodies strewn in every direction, but it's impossible to turn away... Do yourself a favor and click on the photo up top to really capture that young fella's expression. Doesn't that just say "Christmas"?

Nurse the Hate: Hate CSN

I laid sprawled out on the couch. I was in the "Sunday Fear". You know that dread that begins to seep over you when it has become apparent that no matter what you do, you'll still have to get up early and pursue gainful employment in the morning? The myth of the weekend has almost passed over completely like a puffy summer cloud tossed aside by an oncoming storm. There will be no more singing for you cowboy. There will be a nice hot steamy shit sandwich waiting for you Sir. Now, lay there and wallow in the dread...

You wouldn't think it could get worse. But it did. If I would not have changed the channel to HBO to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame 25th Anniversary Concert I never would have seen it. But I did...

There on my hideously over the top high def TV was David Crosby singing "Almost Cut My Hair" with his alarming grey Bozo hair. To his immediate right Graham Nash pantomimed expressions while singing back ups and harmonies that reminded me of that creepy High School art teacher we all had. You know the one. The one that rumor had it "fondled a boy" a couple years ago. No one could remember who exactly, but Larry's older brother's cousin knew the kid's best friend personally and he had to transfer out to the Catholic School. Now you winced whenever the art teacher would touch your shoulder and comment on the shitty watercolor you were failing on. Who needs to be reminded of that during a supposed "rock show"? Not me Friend...

All the way on the end of the stage was cranky frumpy old Stephen Stills. He could still play that guitar, but what was with the hair that was dyed too brown? Maybe that ad on TV said you could just blend it in naturally and no one would notice. However, I noticed. You're 65 years old. You shouldn't have hair the color of a pony's mane sitting on that craggy pumpkin head. Christ, even though Crosby is shocking with that wispy hair, at least you know he's like AARP Captain Kangaroo on microdot. He's not trying to fool anyone.

Crosby, Stills, and Nash are perhaps the most overrated band of all time. Let's say we give them that first record. OK. It's not "rock", but it is certainly well performed music. I don't like it, but I can see how other people can. (Having your first show be Woodstock probably helped sell a few records, no?) The second record is chock full of filler, and pretty much blows. After that they would get Neil Young to come around and try to suck some inspiration out of him like hippie vampires. They haven't done ANYTHING since 1972. Yet here they were on my TV, playing song after shitty song soaking up applause from the corporate wonk sponsors and VIPs of that "event". "Woodstock"? Pretty topical guys. And didn't Joni Mitchell write that? "Almost Cut My Hair" That's about as relevant today as "If You're Going To San Francisco (Wear Flowers In Your Hair)".

The thing that really helped sink me further into depression was how they just thought they were kicking ass, and they were knocking out these timeless classics. Shit, Little Anthony and the Imperials at least realize they are an oldies act. That makes them endearing. These guys? You just know they were busting everyone's balls for the best dressing room, 3 hour sound checks, and holding court like they were still The Shit. This was not the way to end the weekend.

Just when I thought it couldn't get worse, it did. Yes, James Taylor was brought out to sing with them.

Ye Gods.

Side note: I recently read a book about The Byrds, and David Crosby sounds like the biggest asshole ever. The Byrds old producer was asked a few years back. "Who was the most difficult person you ever worked with? The biggest pain in the ass, most impossible artist?" Without hesitation he said, "David Crosby". He then said, "You know who is second? Charles Manson.". That probably doesn't help me summon up those warm cuddly feelings about CSN.

Nurse the Hate: Hate The Handyman

I am unable to repair or install anything. The big problem is a complete lack of interest in reading directions, with my complete lack of aptitude coming in close second. As soon as I see toggle bolt A connects to upper mounting plate slot C, I'm pretty much checked out for the evening. I don't understand how anything fits together, or works mechanically. Because of this, I am usually held up to be less of a man by snide observers. Look, it's not my fault. My father knew even less about building stuff than I do. While other kids had father son wood shop, we cut the lawn and watched football. As a born and bred suburbanite, I cut a lawn like a motherfucker. If the mower breaks down? Well, better buy a goat cause that's the only way that grass is going to be cut.

I had big plans to install a under range microwave, assuming that the new GE Profile would slip snugly into the old GE Profile bracket. Of course, I didn't take into account that things never work out like you would hope they would, and I'm left with the only option available. Call my old roommate, and wait for his arrival by listening to my iPod screaming out of the stereo. The Flying Burrito Brothers live show I'm listening to? Now that's something I know about... Stick to what you do best.

While I wait, I have decided to construct a list of CDs you may have never heard of but you should go buy immediately. These are all probably sitting on those $5 shaggy dog bins at your local CD trade in shops. (Let's see that hammerhead kid at HH Gregg do that, huh?)

1) The Bottle Rockets "The Brooklyn Side": How this didn't become a major hit record in the early 90s, I'll never know. Brian Henneman's songwriting is top notch, and the playing is assured yet still sloppy enough to rock. There's five or six songs on this everyone should be able to hum in their heads with the familiarity of something like "Aqualung". A crime those guys didn't put this out in 1972. We'd be looking at ads for their boxed set in Best Buy circulars now.

2) Psyclone Rangers "Feel Nice": I may be the only person that actually bought this record, but it's badass. This band quietly put out two records, and I know almost nothing about them. It's like if you combine the good parts of the Stooges, Birthday Party and Murder City Devils. Slightly disturbing lyrics and mean guitars. What's not to like?

3) The Backsliders "Live in Raleigh": We played with these guys a few times, and always marveled at how crisp they were. The later studio records sounded like they may have been reaching for a "hit", but that first 7 song live EP really captured what I liked best about them. It's the rock country combo that all those pussy bands from California attempted and failed at in the early 70s. Great originals and inspired cover choices.

4) Johnny Hickman "The Great Decline": I think this guy is one of the best guitar players going in rock. He can wail, play quiet soulful passages, and writes great hooks. As a member of Cracker, he usually gets a song or two per album. This is a full record of stuff, and the best of which now make Cracker sets on a usual basis. The Great Decline/San Bernadino Boy/Friends make the CD a must have on their own.

5) Evan John and the H Bombs "Rolling Through the Night": This is the best modern rockabilly record of all time. It's not retro. The lyrics are fucked up, and Johns guitar playing is unhinged. I have listened to this every few months for the last 20 years. Anytime you put this on, people always ask "Who is that?". It's that good. As an aside, he never put out anything within spitting distance of being this good again.

6) Tarbox Ramblers "Tarbox Ramblers" If you eliminate all the stuff you don't like about blues bands and are left with just the core of the genre, this is it. Michael Tarbox is an awesome slide player, and the songs are choice. Definitely for fans of RL Burnside, T Model Ford, Black Keys, etc. This could have been recorded in 1955 or 2005.

7) Blue Moon Boys "Sticks and Stones" Nic Roulette and Kenny Taylor made this the best American rockabilly band of the 90s. This record captures their live energy and shows off Kenny's chops in a restrained studio setting. The arrangements are really inspired, and the band is right on. Good songs played by a band that was airtight.

Nurse the Hate: Bad Ideas On Thanksgiving

Even from the first moment it flashed in my head, it seemed like a mistake. Yet, even knowing that this plan will only lead to teeth gnashing, frayed nerves, and screaming nonsensical profanity at the television, I plan on moving ahead with it. I will yell out something like, "You motherfucking fuck fucks!!!" at the Detroit Lions, frightening the dog. While everyone else slips into a post meal coma, I will probably be muttering "Fucking shit squirrel monkey assfucker shit lickers..." at the Denver Broncos. I accept this. It is my fate. Yes, I am taking all the underdogs today.

Thanksgiving is a great holiday. No hollow gift exchanges. No awkward office parties. You don't have to tip the garbage men. All you have to do is cook up a bird, open wine, chill beer, and watch football. It's utterly perfect. So why complicate it with putting hard earned money on the Detroit Lions and Oakland Raiders? Perhaps I have begun a spectacular self destructive death spiral. If so, this day will be noted as "Day One".

But hear me out... The Lion are awful. We all know this. But at home, they haven't been blown out of the building. Green Bay is 3-7 vs double digit spreads. Their defense is spotty, and they lost two guys from their defensive backfield. I'm thinking the Lions can stay within 12.

And what about the Cowboys? They haven't been able to score for the last 2 weeks. Meanwhile the Raiders have finally put the JaMarcus Russell debacle to rest, and have discovered they can stay in games when Russell doesn't turn the ball over deep in their own territory 3 times a game. I think the Raiders can stay within 13.5.

The Broncos look like everyone expected them to after the mirage of the 6-0 start went away. They've dropped 4 straight, and look shitty. Chris Simms may start at QB despite the fact the last time he played as a starter was when it looked like buying a rental property in South Florida was a good investment. Yet, let's not lose sight of the fact that the Giants are totally overrated like all teams from New York always are. Too much national media is based there. Too much content to fill. Denver at home is tough. Plus they're getting 6? OK, I'm in.

That's when it hit me. Why not really go for it? How about tying it all in with a 3 team teaser? Ladies and gents, I present to you the worst idea of all time: Detroit +21, Oakland +22.5, and Denver +15. It sounds so perfect, how can it lose? Buckle up...

Nurse the Hate: Tattoo Story

A guy I worked with told me the story of a tattoo his father got. In the late 60s his Dad was in the Navy serving in Vietnam. He and his buddies go on leave in Japan and get absolutely shitfaced. (Don't all Navy stories start like this?) The guys somehow get back to their ship and wake up the next morning with tattoos. He looks down and discovers that above his nipples he has had tattooed "sweet" on the right and "sour" on the left. (Printed, not script. I asked.)

His father gets out of the Navy, becomes Born Again, and lives in Kentucky. Now, no matter how hot it gets in the Summer, he never removes his shirt in fear of exposing his ink. 95 degrees and doing yard work? Shirt stays on. Church picnic at the lake? No thanks! Don't feel like swimming today. Personally, I think Jesus would be OK with the humor of it, but as you know, my credentials in religious matters are spotty at best. The big question for me was, why not just get it removed? "He's too Goddamn cheap!".

The moral of the story? Maybe it's "Don't get a jokey tattoo". Maybe it's "Don't become Born Again". I'm going to think about it and get back to you...

Locks of the weekend: I am shocked that Penn State is only giving three to Michigan State. These are the late season games Penn State usually wins to insure some big money Bowl Game appearance. Meanwhile Michigan State is my most hated team in NCAA Football, as I never know what they're going to do on any given week. Let's go with Penn State -3 to buck the possibility of Mich St coming up big. In their hearts, those guys are losers...I think Oregon is going to kick the crap out of Arizona tonight. Oregon is for real. That's a double digit cover... I don't think the Giants will lose yet another game. Despite the fact they have looked fairly awful, they should still handle the Falcons (minus Michael Turner) at home. I don't know if they cover though. Take NYG on the money line... I never thought I'd be taking the Lions and giving points, but I am. The Browns are the worst pro football team I have ever seen, and I remember the expansion era Tampa Bay Bucs. It seems impossible the Browns can score on anyone at any time. There will need to be such a bizarre confluence of events for Cleveland to put more than 17 on the board, I can't imagine it. They would need a combination of interceptions for touchdowns, blocked punts, kickoff returns, and maybe an earthquake to make that happen. I'm on Detroit -3.5... I don't have any tangible reason to think so, but take a flier on Kansas City +10 vs Pittsburgh. The Steelers win, but they never really win big. KC plays well at home, and they have been improving week to week. What the hell? How else can you stay interested in that game?

Nurse the Hate: Hate Rock N Roll

In the late 80s I remember going to see fIREHOSE at a couple club dates and thinking how successful those guys were, and how awesome it must be to be a “rock star” at even such a small level. Of course, what I didn’t know is those guys were careening around the country in a rickety cargo van trying to find people’s houses to crash out at because they didn’t have enough money to get a decent hotel. I assumed these guys put out real records that people I knew listened to, so it should be assumed they were living a more modest version of a Bon Jovi video.

I bring up fIREHOSE because the Whiskey Daredevils are like rock n roll catfish swimming around in even deeper depths than the relative boom days of 1987 and fIREHOSE. For example, here’s how Leo spent his Saturday/Sunday. After a long night of snoring keeping all of us up in our cramped hotel room (one room for four guys), he showered and poked around the lobby for free food. When that failed to materialize, he went into our first gas station stop and bought a “breakfast pizza”, a “Little Dude”, and a Vitamin Water. The breakfast pizza was a slab of dough with fake eggs, cheese, and processed sausage that had been sitting bleakly under a warming light. The “Little Dude” was a Chunky candy bar sized piece of sausage that required no refrigeration, and looked like something you would shove up someone’s ass. Leo inhaled the questionable meal, smoked some weed, talked shit for 20 minutes, and fell back asleep for the 5 hour drive to Champaign IL. I think he was awake for 45 minutes total on Saturday morning/afternoon.

We had an opening slot for Heavy Trash (who are really good and a fun bunch of guys by the way). The downside of this is that you get paid about 1/3rd or less of what the headliner makes. The upside is that you finish your set, and get to hang out drinking while watching the other band with no worries about having to get up and perform in public. As you can imagine, Leo moved in on the complimentary Pabst like a hawk. I don’t know how many he knocked back, but I would imagine it was a heroic quantity.

The only reason I tell you this is to set the stage for what indie rock n roll is really all about. It’s Sunday, and Leo is in his familiar sleeping position in the van as we hurtle across the bleak Eastern Indiana/Western Ohio landscape. His stomach is a little dicey, but he’s been here before and can sleep it off. The decision is made to pull off at one of the horrible fast food restaurants off the highway. To make things interesting we decide to make a game out of it. First we debated if Leo should choose the restaurant randomly from his laying down position below the window line of the van. Example: “Take a left and pull into the third restaurant on the right.” This was decided against because we would have the distinct possibility of pulling into a Hardee’s, and we’d rather go hungry than eat at Hardee’s.

Then we decided that Leo would order a combo meal by random number from wherever we chose, and would eat that no matter what it was. While some people assume Leo is always eating catered food from backstage, the usual deal is that he scrapes by on whatever cheap eats he can find on the highway. This is budget rock n roll. The Squirrel makes a strong case for KFC, and we pull in. Leo says, “OK…I’ll take a #3 combo meal with a Coke. And give me whatever sauce is available for a #3 too.”

As we walk in to the small town KFC/Taco Bell combo fast food hut, I scan the board for the #3 combo. I think we were in Plainfield Indiana. I shit you not; the #3 combo in this particular KFC is a “Livers and Gizzards Combo meal”. I couldn’t believe it. This KFC not only sold gizzards, but had it as the #3 combo? Where the hell were we? How the hell could a mainstream fast food restaurant be selling chicken livers and gizzards, and have it make economic sense? No matter, the plan is the plan and I order the “Livers and Gizzards Combo” for my little buddy lying on the van bench.

I will freely admit, Leo was more than a little disappointed when the plastic platter of grayish nuggets was revealed as his lunch. “What the fuck? Jesus…OK…OK…I can do this.” Slowly but surely Leo worked his way through the breaded nuggets, complaining once in awhile about “the taste of iron”. Then he then did what he always does, and passed back out asleep. It was about 35 minutes later when I heard the voice behind me. “Do you guys have a plastic bag up there? I think I’m going to throw up these gizzards.” Ken assured Leo that we would have to gas up shortly, and if he could hold off for a couple minutes he could compose himself in some legitimate restroom facilities. “OK…I’ll try….”

Still in the middle of nowhere, we pulled into “Gas Station”. It’s not a Shell or BP. It’s “Gas Station”. Leo unsteadily walked towards the building to find a hopefully clean restroom. The first sign that things might not be ideal was when he was pointed to one of two port a johns located across the gas station parking lot. I saw Leo walk inside the blue booth, and quickly come back out seemingly shaken. Imagine if you will, you are hung over and have a stomach full of chicken livers and gizzards. Now imagine that when you walk into the port a john you discover a giant mound of human feces has crested the bowl. Wet paper sits on top of the shit mound, and a thin slime of water sloshes on the plastic floor. How he didn’t start immediately barfing, I’ll never know.

Leo begged us to drive him down the road to another “Gas Station” with what had to be better facilities. He disappeared inside the cinderblock building for 20 minutes or so, and emerged seemingly refreshed. “Yeah, it was bad in there too…real bad…but I made a little nest out of toilet paper and took a shit. After I flushed and got ready to leave, and I gagged a little bit and threw up, but all that came out was foam.”

That’s what rock n roll is really like.