Saturday, November 30, 2002


I had a good Thanksgiving. Now, on to Christmas.

Tuesday, November 26, 2002

F.C. Sporadic: Part Two

If you read pud's FC Sporadic on him being heckled, you'll notice that he suggests asking Jason Wolfe for his side of the story (Jason was the heckler). I did.

Jason's side had some points that are worth perusing. There are multiple sides to any issue, and for fairness' sake, I wanted to present Jason's story. It's always amazing to me how the same event can be viewed so differently. Jason was comfortable with me posting his response to pud's newsletter.

Wednesday, November 20, 2002

F.C. Sporadic

One of my favorite e-mail newsletters is pud's FC Sporadic, a sharply sardonic and vulgar missive from the creator of the perfect web site for capturing the low-down feelings from the dot-com bust: Fucked

Philip Kaplan (aka pud) went on to write F'd Company, a book observing "the waste, greed, and human stupidity of more than 100 dot-com companies." I haven't read his book, but I've certainly enjoyed his newsletters, which are a mixture of these industry observations, and his own trials as a single young man in New York City trying to get a date. He's a funny writer.

His recent Sporadic describes how he was heckled at a trade show, and how it brought back memories of getting picked on back in the grade school. At the show, the heckler was shouting angrily that pud was spreading lies about dot-com companies, and for putting companies like his out of business. The story was so funny and the heckling so non-sensical that I wrote to him asking if I could post it, and he said "go for it."

It's not hard for me to believe that people still hold a grudge against the dot-com era. I do. I had the requisite useless stock options. People's lives were turned upside down, hoping to make a difference, hoping to be part of a winner. Alas, there were only a few winners. pud gave an outlet for all the workers with corporate angst. He shed light at the end of the proverbial tunnel, and some folks couldn't bear the scrutiny.

Tuesday, November 19, 2002

Wednesday, November 13, 2002


I have been listening to Eminem. The famed rapper's latest movie, 8 Mile, was big news last weekend, as it grossed over $50 million. I was caught up in the wave of publicity.

Two weekends ago, while surfing TV, I chanced upon MTV's Jammed, a program documenting a "surprise concert". MTV planned a surprise concert for the students at Michigan State University. The singer: Detroit's own Eminem. The ruse: a preview of the movie "8 Mile".

The documentary itself was taut and well paced. I was getting caught up with the planning, and the reactions of the students. When the movie finished, the silver screen rolled up, a stage was revealed, and Eminem (aka Slim Shady) blasted into the beginning of "Lose Yourself".

The music rocked! The students rushed the stage, and started waving their arms to the hip-hop beat, mouthing the fast lyrics, clearly in delirium. It was awesome to see. It was obvious what the big deal was all about.

I recorded the show, and watched the concert over and over again. I downloaded the lyrics. And when I visited Tower Record last Sunday, I bought two of his records. And they're amazing!

Eminem's probably not for everybody: his lyrics are fierce, peppered with profanity, littered with lascivious and lewd leers. He's angry. He's sly. He's Shady ("Guess who's back? Tell a friend!"). His music's connected with me, though. I can hear his expression. It's unique-sounding. It's fresh. I agree with him: "20 million other white rappers emerge, but no matter how many fish in the sea, it'd be so empty without me."

Wednesday, November 6, 2002


Two. Three. Nine. Turtle. Octopus. "That's all." Hi! C. D. I. Side! Socks. Shoes.

These are some of the words in my daughter's vocabulary.