First, my deepest apologies to the listening audience who had to suffer through an almost unbearable broadcast on Friday for St. Patrick's Day. I'd like to say we made the sound really crappy on purpose to make you feel like you were drinking without actually having to do so, but I don't think anyone would buy that. Oh, believe me, if I thought you would buy it, I would certainly lie.
The sound quality, and cheap-ass equipment that a major-market radio station insists their franchise morning show use for remote broadcasts, is not the real reason we will not be doing these live party shows anymore. We're going back to the old way of taping live bar shows the night before and replaying them the next morning. It cuts down on a lot of problems, such as:
-most people can and will drink at night.
-getting sleep on a Friday morning.
-ambient cursing and the prospect of further unemployment.
This is assuming we do them at all. There's nothing worse than going on remote and doing a show that sounds nothing like what people are accustomed to. So we'll probably have more parties, and we'll probably have more location shows, but very seldom will we do any more live morning party shows.
They must have a real love of Cuba at ESPN. Wouldn't surprise me. It's owned by ABC and once employed that tin asshat Keith Olbermann. During the Cuba/DR WBC baseball game in swarthy Puerto Rico, ESPN cut away to live cameras in Havana showing their well-fed and medicated citizens enjoying the game on Cuba's only TV set.
First, the whooping and hollering was mistaken for joy at Cuba being up 2-1, instead of what it clearly was--the citizen hostages overjoyed that their cries of help will be seen by the outside world.
Then, one of the two, Jon Miller or Joe Morgan, made this observation during a shot of an empty looking downtown Havana, which could easily have been a slide of Miami 1956.
"Everyone is staying indoors for this one."
As if this weren't Havana on a normal day! And Saturday to boot.
Oh, yeah, ya see, normally it's a bustling scene when baseball isn't on. People going to their busy private sector jobs. Entrepeneurs hustling for venture capital running into garment workers with racks teeming with designer dresses and coats. Just not on baseball championship day in the Banana Republic. Yeah, everyone is just glued.
Two things I like about BP stations with the Wild Bean Cafe. First, they have some delicious fresh hot panini sandwiches to start your day. Second, they have those shady looking third party, non-bank affiliated ATMs. The kind where you can actually hear the modem dialing the central computer for validation. It gives me the feeling that I may just not get my money, and when I do, it's sweet, like winning at slots in Vegas.
The Sopranos just gets more and more brilliant. It's a good thing. Why else would one tolerate the two year hiatus in the narrative? It's worth it.
Mobsters debating Uncle Junior's fate after shooting Tony as if it were the Supreme Court debating whether the mentally ill should get the death penalty.
A closeted gay mobster commenting on another wiseguy who committed suicide:
"Maybe he was a homo and didn't feel like he could talk to anyone about it."
Anthony Junior being reamed by his mom for getting kicked out of school for bad grades:
"While you you're father's in a coma..."
You can almost hear her thinking, "Wait until your father gets out of his coma."
This week we go to Orlando for shows from Spring Training on Thursday and Friday. I'm hoping to get John Schuerholz on and talk about his book that explains how he's done things for the past 15 years. It's little like a peek inside the Wonka factory without the creepy overtones of a grown man showing children how he packs fudge.