Holy Crap

It has been a REALLY long time since I blogged. And goddammit have I missed it. There is just something so special about a Family Guy you've never seen before. Stewie is a homicidal maniac.

Can you believe we're going to have another baby??? I've never been happier. Things at work are great, things at home are wonderful. Life is an awesome thing. Just want to share this feeling more, which is why I guess it's a good thing Baby Boy is on his way...

Why is Glenn Beck still on the air anywhere in the world? He is so misguided. Just quoted the founder of PR, Edward Bernays, and then went into a diatribe about his opinions. The man created PR. He proselytized about propaganda. Yet Beck is holding him up as a representative of all that is wrong with modern day government.

Trying to mind control you with their advanced systems which somehow are too woefully inadequate to actually govern. Guess that's just the left's agenda.

I mean Jaysus Larrrd.

EDITORS NOTE: What do I know about TV?

Let me start a ways after the beginning. Treme is fantastic televsion. Music, cops, lawyers, restaurants. Best of all TV worlds. Smart, sharp writing. Makes you realize why you loved TV in the first place. Reminds me, at least, why I picked up a pen in the first place (more on that coming soon). The love for New Orleans oozes out of the pores of this show.

I have to say, I've never been more wrong. That hockey game I wrote about last night was out of this world, and rated as highly as any in 36 years. Deservedly so!

In the middle of an episode of Treme when our intrepid hero, a Chef who has been dealing with city gas giving out on her on a regular basis in a high pressure situation comes through.

Not unlike the refs, the league, the players and the fans in that high class affair in South Philly. Game 6 of the Stanley Cup Finals. I acknowledge its majesty, and thank all for wonderful fun. As my little bro would say, Hawks, City of Chicago -- Mazel, Mazel.

Finals

Is there anything more exciting? Well, lord I hope so, since I'm not playing, and really don't even have a rooting interest in either of these teams. Oh, and #hockeyblows.

That said, as far as sporting events go, a game six in Philly, practically sudden death as they trail 3-2 with under five to play. You kind of knew this would happen. Great series.

But the omnipresent sense of, well, finality, is really the overwhelming emotion. Particularly at home, for a team that has done nothing but come back time and time again. Shootout with the Rangers months ago just to get in.

Down3-0 to the Boston Bruins, that first win seemingly an anomaly till they strung together three more and made history.

Now an enormous underdog to the West's best. Not really the West, but Chi-town. A team without a title since '61. Knick-esque in their fecundity.

Overtime now, hanging on by a thread.

And it's over. In the blink of an eye names are etched forever onto that noble cup. Even for non-hockey fans (a group which I count myself among) it's clear that this is a special moment in time. To be the best team after a marathon season. Names like Kane and Toews bring joy to hockey fans in a city that has not shared in supremacy for half a century. That will make you a hero fast, and Chicago is a town that loves its sports heroes.

But seriously, though, NHL. Does your sport truly move so fast that there is no technological means of determining whether a goal was scored or not? Can the entire season be decided in so anticlimactically that the vast majority of fans, players and officials had absolutely no idea it was through.

That to me reinforces every rating point lost by this sport over the past 25-years. Even as HD reigns supreme and the game moves further down the cable dial (how anachronistic is that thought) there is just no way to present this sport in a meaningful way to a broader audience.

Bring back the Hanson brothers, and thank God this crap is off TV for a few months, to be honest. How come the Olympics were pristine and perfect, and the majority of these playoffs, even with amazing storylines and great towns involved, were so thoroughly unwatchable...

Reunion weekend begins

with a separation. Beautiful wife, staying home. Maybe catching a movie with my brother. The ladybug and I head north a click, to Freehold Boro by way of Old Bridge. Big night. ha!

Should be interesting though. FHS Class of '90. A stalwart bunch if ever there was one. I'm a proud representative!

It's interesting to note, that without FB these things might be much different. You at least have a working knowledge of where your closest acquaintances have ended up.

Your friends, one assumes, you would know where they lived, worked, wed, etc.

Long list of former high schoolers, you expect a pretty good deal of attrition. Proving that the class President title lasts a lifetime, Kerri Martin is doing a wealth of the organizing.

All I'm doing is showing up. Well, bringing my iTunes and my notePad. Check in tomorrow for more. And @bitterbill.

PEACE

woefully underprepared

I realized today that this is very often my issue, and was with the proposed tournament of cities as well as the bachelor party that preceded it and the home flooding that followed.

I had no pump, no generator, no nothing. I get a foot of water in my basement after this tree snaps an overhead electrical wire and lands on my yard looking like this

and my basement like this


What can you do? People make plans and God laughs. More on this to come. City Sixty-Four needs to be put on hold for one year...

Automatic berths begin rolling in, selection committee hard at work

So I’m stuck on a plane in Harrisburg (which has no shot of making the tournament by the way) and wanted to get this out before I take off again. Flight diverted from Indy, which made a great case this weekend for a high seed.

A couple of automatic berths surprised me this weekend. Santa Barbara, incredible beach town, makes the grade and lives to fight another day. Other similarly sized automatics include Roanoke, VA and Charleston, SC.

This is going to be fun. The full field is listed out below, bracketology to follow…

New York	Phoenix	Orlando
Miami	Washington, DC	Tampa
Los Angeles	Boston	New Orleans
Chicago	Seattle	Detroit
Cleveland	Dallas	Buffalo
Portalnd	Houston	San Diego
Philadelphia	San Antonio	San Francisco
Charlotte	Oklahoma City	Minneapolis
Atlanta	Milwaukee	Indianapolis
Cincinatti	Providence	Jacksonville
St. Louis	El Paso	Hartford
Kansas City	Baltimore	Pittsburgh
Nasvhille	San Jose	Omaha
Memphis	Columbus	Newark
Denver	Albuquerque	Las Vegas
Oakland	Tucson	Reno
Sacramento	Anchorage	Billings
Austin	Lexington	Salt Lake City
Tulsa	Birmingham	Sioux City
Honolulu	Boise	Bismarck
Raleigh	Rochester	Louisville
Colorado Springs	Irvine	Fresno/Sacramento
Wichita	Spokane	Long Beach
Madison	Des Moines	Virginia Beach

So there you have it. The 70 plus cities that have a chance to make it into the final grid. Any automatic berths I’m missing? Send ‘em in.

This includes a play in game between Fresno and Sactown, too good to pass up. There are probably other cities that deserve that type of offer, but my heart leans to @Tlack415 Homerville.

Basic rule. Any city that you don’t inherently know what state it’s in is pretty much automatically ruled out (sayonara LBC, California, by the way). Other unwritten ruled include uniqueness, lack of suburbia. Baton Rouge may get an automatic berth for that reason, even though they didn’t rank high enough for inclusion in the at large field.

Home of college hoops

So the day of flight begins. Difficult at first, then beaming into a bloody mary, the stewardess having to hold back a grim excitement. Perhaps she now realized it was almost noon on Friday. No, we still have Chicago to get to, flip an hour back, then down to Indy. A short 55 minute flight. Who knows what to expect.

I do know that I have six more drink tickets, scratch that seven. Each drink is only one here at @southwest! Yeah!!! I don’t fly Southwest that often any more, living, as I do, in the Northeast. But enough about that, that’s @bitterbill territory.

I’m here to focus on the brackets. March Madness is in full swing if you look at the calendar and caliber of play. Big East Tourney and Big 12 surely to make headlines. Going to Indy, home of the NCAA and the Big Ten tourney. Hoping to catch a game.

Basketball’s birthplace, or close enough. Rabid fans in the year I know more about hoops than in any time during my sportswatching life. I’m on a fantasy team.

But this is just one factor of many. Only fitting that this journey begins as I visit a new city for the first time. Stopover in Chicago, one of my all time favorites and a most likely 1 seed, to Indianapolis. A solid mid major, but where will she go? Shall I wait till after this weekend? I believe I shall.

So here is how it is going to work. I’ve got probably 70-80 cities on a list. This week we have to figure out who is on the bubble and get rid of them.
Rochester, Irvine. Do we even bother? No suburbs, Evansville, Tucson. Right?

Anyway, with no further ado. The field as I see it.

Not going to influence seeding yet, but do with this what you will.

New York
Los Angeles
Miami
Chicago.

See a top seed I’ve missed? Talk about in the comments.

It's been too long

I've not posted for months, and I'm about to rectify that situation in a big way. Something I've never tried before. A real-time top 64. March Madness in a US way.

What city will rank above all others? Who will make it into the big dance?

The nation is massive, and so many considerations. At the end of the day the final decision is mine, dear reader, but I look forward to any thoughts you might throw my way. Remember, this is just the start.

As I look in live at Syracuse/Villanova from the Carrier Dome, I'm overcome by the passion of the fans, the packed house. Yet they are very far from the closest Top 64 city.

Philly is going to be a low seed, but really, can they be better than a four seed?

We'll see.

A few automatic bids from cities you might not expect, but all in all I think we know who the finals will come down to. Miami looks great, Chicago is always strong. Dark horses everywhere, but if it's not LA/NY at the end of the day, it's a huge upset.

As Canada and the US set to square off in Olympic hockey, remember just that the Russians, with Ovechkin, Malkin et all went packing early. Will Boston do the same? What about Frisco? If you call it Frisco you probably won't enjoy the rest of this tournament.

Highlights of the Top 100, and a little bracketology tomorrow.

The holiday spirit

Make a Smilebox greeting

Mean

So today's my birthday. Usually a day that brings me nothing but joy, but today was peppered with downside. Wife went to be with the signoff, "You're just mean. Mean, mean, mean, mean."

This seems to be a theme this week. Something I'm learning about myself, and I'm OK with it to be honest. The challenge is that people confuse mean for bitter. I'm really not bitter.

Love life. Love my family. Just don't see the upside of being shiny happy all the time. Maybe any of the time.

I've always had a real joie de vivre. Maybe I just keep it hidden under the surface? As I get older, will I get crabbier and crabbier? On some level, I hope so, as it defines me a bit.

On the other, I worry I may just end up being unbearable to be around. Especially to her. Now granted, it was my birthday and I feel like if I'm upset, she should make the extra effort to ensure that's not the case, whether she thinks I'm an asshole or note. Maybe that's just me.

What set her off, after a few of my usual missteps were forgiven, including slamming the door in her face (accidentally) as I entered the restaurant holding our child. I couldn't hold the door and be my usual gentlemanly self, but I also didn't notice and that pissed her off.

The final straw, though, was my grumbling about Facebook. I don't know about you, but when people I barely know and never speak to wish me a happy birthday on FB, it strikes me as an odd outgrowth of this new form of communication.

She thinks I was actually got annoyed at these people. I just thought I was pointing out the irony, but these people all have the best intentions and I manage get it twisted... Maybe I should be pissed at my real friends who forgot!

There was a half-joking vote of the meanness level between me and a colleague in the office, and I won by a landslide. Note I say I won.

Anyone can be nice. But is being unapproachable really a victory. I guess only time will tell...

Good night and God bless.

Lying is encouraged

I'm starting to come to grips with the reality that lying is not only encouraged in this world, but rewarded.

I realize this as I return from the bagel place with breakfast and drinks for my family. I had been rung up (literally, you'll soon learn) for three mini-bagels at just over $6. The total for that plus the drinks seemed high, so I asked if he had rung up everything.

"Oh, no," he calmly replied. "Forgot the coffees."

He then proceeded to charge me $5.99 for two medium iced coffees. Fleeced for six dollars for brewed coffee. Nothing more than that!

Earlier in the weekend, I was reamed by a client for not reading the plan she had sent over late the day before. I was travelling and hadn't had time to review. I honestly don't feel this impacted the discussion whatsoever, but I can understand how it might seem insulting, particularly after she had invested a great deal of time into its development.

How much harm would it be if I had faked it? How much damage to the world economy would I do if I walked out with two cups of coffee, already paid for in the markup on my bagels...

"Karma Police," responds my wife with a Zen coolness.



Couldn't have said it better myself.

Dreamer in my Dreams

Wilco at Keyspan Park on Coney Island, early birthday treat from the amazing Ms. Jennifer Zelman Heit. What a beautiful way to spend an evening.

We had considered bringing our three year old, but as I noted in my previous post, she had the presence of mind to bow out late last night. We had been swimming three days straight. She was understandably exhausted.

Even so, her tiny little voice asked me as I was putting her to bed last night, myself eager with anticipation for her to join us for her first big concert, "is the concert during the daytime or at the nighttime?"

"Well, it's at night sweetie, but hopefully won't be too late. And if you're tired, we can just come home."

"I think I want to stay home," she said, sweet as you can imagine.

As much as I wanted to convince her she should come, as an early birthday present to me, it's incredible to me the maturity and presence of mind she has at such a young age.

This is more the ramblings of an idiot adult than the gushing of a proud poppa, but either way, I'm glad we didn't have her with us. Just a few weeks earlier, at a fireworks display in my wife's native Buffalo, my little one nearly lost her mind. Loud noises seem to cause her to scream hysterically, not unlike Rain Man faced with hot water.



Something from deep in her sub conscious makes her hate loud noises, maybe it's all the yelling me and the wife are capable of, but she sure does love those juice boxes too.

Not sure what I'm getting at any more, it's late and an Israeli woman next to me on the plane is making a mad land grab for the armrest we both share. As if this real estate can be claimed simply by being there...

Which, by the way, is another great Wilco album...

Night

First post from my iPhone

I could really get usd to this. Chilling on my deck, glass of chilled Pinot Grigio at. The ready.

It's my first iPod, really. So I spent the last two weeks jut filling it up with slngs.

It's amazing, really. I thought I could make do with a 16 Gig version, bit I was quickly shown the errror of my ways. I was scrambling. Grabbing page after page of my CD books. Looseleaf pages that hold eight discs each. Four in front four on back. I have five large books mostly filled A through Z I then have a small book (each page holds four discs front and back, filled with movie soundtracks and other compilations. The Q through Z book, as one might imagine, has some space at the end where some other mixes and compilations are held.

So I am literally like a meth head rushing from room to room adding discs to my iTunes.

Remember, I never even had an iPod, so this is all brand new to me.

It's so worth it though. The look and feel of the device is amazing! Love everything about it, and now I have a healthy portion of my music with me. Nowhere near all, mind you. Just a big ass chunk.

More to go, but to be able to buy Bruno tickets and listen to Rodrigo y Gabriela all while I work on the blog makes me glad to be alive!

And I can read it from here, which means so can you, dear reader. Now go out and get one so you can view more ads!

I think it should be easy to post pictures as well, right? Oh well, mayber not yet, but I'll figure it put. For now I'll just listen to Wilco, Box Full of Letters , great band, great iPhone app, excited for the concert tomorrow night! Didi bailed (she's three, and a lady, so this is her right) but I digress.

Late.

The call

The blackberry buzz. It can be an invitation, or it can be a leash.

As it starts to hum on your table, you grab it. Try to reduce the feedback. I look over at my brother, and he's furiously typing away. In all seriousness I can't tell for sure whether he is happily chirping to his beautiful wife that they'll be together momentarily, or putting the nag off for another hour.

That's the conundrum. The proximity of two such divergent emotions. Work and home. Play and responsibility.

How do you know when to pick it up? How do you know when to let it go?

The leash grabs you by the neck and won't let go. Circling round the table and interrupting conference calls with its insidious drone.



Sometimes I'm reminded of my failings as a human being by the sheer brilliance of others. The guy who invented the Blackberry is not one of them. OK, maybe the guy who invented it is, but not the guy who marketed it to he businessman. And sure as shit not the businessman who used it from there.

Drop the leash. Get out of my fucking face. We are young.

Don't you remember the old days?

Meeting RT and Punko down the shore.

Remembering idiotic memories of a night-time so far away. Streets of Fire blares, Penguins on the tee vee, Alex Rodriguez homer.

Kitty kat passes my way, time spent out on the lawn today. Place looks out over a body of water, and Artie reveals to me more of his evil plot to rule the world through Heresy.

But I Digress.

The latest phenomenon sweeping the nation is apparently the four-hour workweek.

"I'm totally Retardo Montalban," notes RT.

John and I watch the game, analyzing what happpened

"The only reason I watch NBA basketball is because of Brad."

I stop in my tracks.

"We're seeing Willie Nelson, Mellencamp, Neil Young," Punko stops. "What?"

"What the hell did you just say?" I ask.

"At the concert. Who the hell was the third guy?"

"I don't know, I'll look it up." I start tapping away at the computer, at which I had already started this blog post."

"You know that guy," Punko is frustrated.

"Dude, who the hell is Brad?"

"Brad Miller."

Seriously, Punko said this at least two more times. Artie and I could not believe such a fucking ridiculous joke. So bad you had to just ignore it.

"Dude," I finally break down and ask, "are you secretly gay for Brad Miller."

"The violent dry heaving was probably not a good thing," Artie says, wiping his mouth as he emerges from the bathroom.

He's a walking soundbite." says Punko.

So I continue on with my Bierman Elkin story.

Something good to write about

So I thought the last post was so goddamned clever I'd definitely get at least one comment. I begged for them for the love of God!

It was my first time running ads, so I may have been distracted, but no longer.

PHISH PHANS. UNITE!


You going to tell me this doesn't send shivers down your spine.

If you were alive in the nineties, it would. Breaking away from the world today, takes everything you got.

Got this e-mail from one of the bests.

From: dontejas@optonline.net [mailto:dontejas@optonline.net]
Sent: Tuesday, May 05, 2009 10:10 PM
To: Jonathan Heit
Subject:

Dude, check this out:

http://www.bonnaroo.com/365/phish/

Good times; definitely one of the best road trips, even if that third guy was freakin' Kane.

------

Kaner is a boner.


Long live Phish. The Dead of our generation, but even better in my mind. Mythology, stories and harmonies. An acquired taste, maybe, but once so... OH!!!

Enjoy, as I do....