What time is it, Steve? Boss time.
On Saturday, several loved ones and I will partake in New Jersey’s closest attempt at a communal religious experience: Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band at Giants Stadium. Or MetLife. Whatever it’s called. While I haven’t seen nearly as many Bruce shows as some of my countrymen, it’s not my first rodeo.
Typically, in the Garden State, everyone gets along; tailgates are very friendly. We’re all there for the same reason: to see the Boss and the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, house-rocking, earth-quaking, booty-shaking, Viagra-taking, love-making legendary E Street Band. However, in the 11 shows I’ve had the good fortune (and made the financial sacrifice) to attend, I’ve noticed some unbecoming behavior both in the Jerz and abroad. We’d all do well to follow some ground rules. Continue reading
Team Sender all the way.
Every new wave of technological advancements created deeply confused people who couldn’t grasp the fundamentals of each new medium. Just as there were people talking back to their radios in the 1930s and people who thought television sets actually contained tiny people in the 1950s, some 2012 humans are just bewildered by the complicated workings of today’s technological tools and platforms.
To lament to all four readers of this blog, I compiled the following list during a break in class last week of various offenses to social media and telecommunication that happen too frequently. Some are valid and some represent me doing what I do best: acting like a crank. Continue reading
Good reading back in 1987
So, over the course of the past year, I’ve become far less tolerant of other people’s complaining. I also think I’ve made a concerted effort to complain less, but I’m sure there are a few people who would dispute that. And, this is nothing new, but I’ve always had a distaste for people who broadcast all of their emotions on the Interwebs. Lately, it seems as though a major case of the grumpies is making its way around Facebook and I’ve exercised a great deal of restraint in not reminding my virtual friends of the mantra of this fantastic and ridiculous children’s book still in my bookcase: “Could be worse!” It tells the outlandish tale of some kids who were abducted by a giant bird and had all these other things happen to them. As they regale their grandfather with tales of their ordeal, all he can say at every step of the way is “Could be worse!” Continue reading
All summer, it feels as though my ears have been under constant attack from a barrage of crappy pop music. Public enemy No. 1: the Reddi-Whip brassiered woman at the left. In a rather short time on the beach today, Katy Perry’s “California Gurls” played on the radio more times than I cared to listen to. Don’t get me wrong – it’s a pretty catchy tune and certainly many quality remixes must exist that I probably wouldn’t mind dancing to. However, when it’s been stuck in your head for days (DAYS!), the lyrics become a little unnerving. Continue reading
Really could have used her yesterday.
Being a hip mobile journalist, I parked myself at the LBI branch of the Ocean County Library (a fantastic library system if you can avail yourself of a card) to get some work done early Tuesday afternoon. I’ve been experiencing serious attention deficit issues lately, so I figured the library would be a nice, quiet place with few distractions for me to get some stuff done. Right? Wrong. Continue reading
So I read this Jezebel post about people not offering up subway seats to pregnant women with great interest this afternoon. The way people behave, interact and treat each other fascinates me. I’m usually fairly polite; I hold doors for people and let pedestrians cross at crosswalks. I smile a lot, say please and thank you and apologize for any unexpected physical contact, even if it wasn’t my fault. I’m not sure I’d give up a seat to a woman I wasn’t 100% was pregnant for fear of insulting her if she wasn’t. Continue reading
Is this a commencement or a concert?
Last Thursday, my younger brother Mark graduated from Monmouth University. This was enough to make me feel ancient, particularly because it serves to remind me that I’m now three years removed from my own graduation. But there was something else irking me that made me step back for a moment and think, “When did I get so damn old?” Continue reading