Nick's Best Supporting Actors (Or the Nickies)

I am stealing this one from my brother but here are my favorite performances by an actor in a supporting role over the last fifteen years or so. I will do Starring next week as it took me a while to come up with this one and then move on to actresses.

Bill Murray, Rushmore - Just plays it brilliantly. Every scene he is in he steals. The guy should just stick to roles like this and forget about being top billing. This is just a great film in which Murray steals the show.

Charlie Sheen, Being John Malkovich – Sheen is by no means a great actor and his screen time in this movie is about three minutes, but it is three minutes of gold. Every line he says is genius with just the right delivery.

Steve Buscemi, Reservoir Dogs – I could pick any performance this guy gives, as he is brilliant all the time. However, I first saw him as Mr. Pink. I was blown away by the movie, but it was Buscemi’s performance that stuck with me and still does.

Jack Lemmon, Short Cuts – Lemmon is one of my all time favorite’s and in Short Cuts he gives the best delivery of dialogue I’ve ever seen. When he is confessing to his son, who hasn’t seen in years about the affair he had I was just glued. This guy was just amazing and this performance was simply wonderful.

John Goodman, The Big Lebowski – OK, the performance is a little over the top yet, somehow it works. Goodman has never done anything of value unless it was with the Cohen’s and this is just another example. Plays it brilliantly and so easily.

Fred Willard, Best In Show – five minutes of brilliance. His improved performance as the dog show narrator was hilarious. A great movie in which Willard steals all by himself with his ad-libing.

Alec Baldwin, Glen Gary Glen Ross – An obvious pick yet, it needs to be mentioned. Baldwin plays the perfect asshole. He just oozes smarm in a historic five-minute scene. I could watch that part of the movie a thousand times and never get sick of it.

Benico Del Torro, The Usual Suspects – He came up with a dialect that no one could figure out simply because he made it up. Realizing his character was not a vital part of the movie he asked the director if he could deliver his lines in his unique delivery. It worked and because of it, made a name for himself.

Jack Black, High Fidelity – A role he was born to play. Every scene he is in he steals and gives a highly comedic performance. He is the real deal and this is the movie that put him on the map. To think he turned it down and had to be talked into it by Cusack.

James LeGros, Living In Oblivion – Plays the perfect spoiled actor. If you haven’t seen this one rent it, as there are a million great things in it. One of those is the job turned in by LeGros.

Chris Tucker, Friday – Tucker steals this movie away Ice Cube with a break out role that launched him into another world. His delivery and comic timing made this movie and without him, the movie itself would just have never worked.

Burt Reynolds, Boogie Nights – For the first time in years someone figured out how to use this guy. Reynolds started out early in his career with Deliverance and than kind of went into a very comfortable predictable place (with the exception of the Longest Yard.) Just as his career was on the down slope he makes a huge comeback giving just a great performance.

Dave Foley, Blast from the Past – OK, the movie itself kind of sucks. And yes all Foley is doing is playing a gay guy however, his performance put a smile on my face. I am a Kids In the Hall fan so, this one was easy. I always thought this guy was great and in a bad movie he comes away giving a great performance.

Sydney Pollack, Husbands and Wives – The great director gives a great performance in this Woody Allen movie. He comes across as the ultimate mid life crisis guy and finds a way to do it where you are sympathetic for him. Amazing if you think what he did with this role.

Bill Murray, Kingpin – I might as well begin and end it with the same actor. Again Bill Murray is brilliant and plays it just right. The comedic timing is just right and his performance is worth a rental on its own.

The Worst Year of My Life

The worst year in my life had to be 1997. I’ve had others that were bad but 97 would rank at the top. 1985 was my sophomore year in high school and that was a not a great year for me but the Bears did win the Super bowl so, it wasn’t all bad. In 2002 I lost my Grandfather (which really sucked) but I also got engaged. So when I think about it 1997 ranks at the bottom of the list.

The basic reason for my misery that year was my girlfriend. I was dating this nut job of a bimbo who convinced me to live with her in Harwood Heights. I should have known better but for some reason and I am not sure why I did. I was miserable in my relationship and going home every day was painful. Part of it was being away from all my friends and family in the south burbs. My life was there and every weekend I was back in the south side doing my thing.

My girlfriend was just killing me. Looking back I am not sure why I dated her. I met her the year before and since we lived far away I only saw her like once a week. After having no where to go once my lease expired and not really able to afford to live on my own she suggested moving in with her. She had a son and did not want to uproot him out of his school so, she asked if I could move to her neighborhood. So, in January of 97 I did just that.

I went from seeing her once a week to every day and I quickly realized I had made a huge mistake. This woman was driving me crazy, as she was a complete loon. I dreaded seeing her and I quickly felt trapped. However, not being a quitter, I decided that since I had made the commitment that I had to at least attempt to make it work. So, I stayed and the situation just got worse. Everyday was worse than the last and I could see no end in sight.

The other thing that happened in 97 was that I had quit working at IRI and was now consulting. Consulting meant that I would not get a vacation all year. I worked a forty to fifty hour week every week with out any break. Holidays came and I didn’t even get paid for them. Plus I was no longer working downtown so I had to drive to work every day, which I hated. I missed being in the loop and being able to go to lunch in the big city. Instead I was relegated to going to Old Orchard mall and grabbing some fast food.

With work sucking and my home life in the crapper, I was at the lowest point in my life. I didn’t have any outlet to relieve my stress and I was getting deeper and deeper into a huge pit, in which I saw no way out of. December 31^st was a microcosm of the entire year.

I had made plans to go to a New Years Eve Party at my friend’s house in Oak Lawn, like I do every year. I hadn’t been spending as much time with them since I lived far away so, I was really looking forward to it. On top of all of that my girlfriend had made plans to go to this party with her son that her brother was throwing. So, I was really stoked. I woke up that morning and was dieing. I couldn’t eat anything without throwing it up. It was coming out of both ends and I was running a fever. I looked as white as a ghost and I was freezing. So, I called into work and figured if I rested the whole day I would get better and I could still go to the party. (I think I was also delusional but this just shows just how much I was enjoying my home life.)

My sympathetic girlfriend looked at me and didn’t offer much help. She went to her brothers as planed and I was stuck at home to fend for myself. I was so tired and so out of it that I lost the remote and it was stuck on MTV and they were running a real world marathon. I was literally in hell. However, as each hour passed I kept telling myself, I could still make the party. All I had to do was get to the shower and I would feel better.

As Nine o’clock rolled around I finally got up and tried to eat something. That would be a mistake. I made some Lipton Chicken Soup and let’s just say it didn’t agree with me. AS the night got later as much as I wanted to fight it, I knew there was no way in hell I was in any shape to go to a New Years Eve party. So, instead I turned on Dick Clark and sat there and for the first time in decades watched New Years rockin’ eve feeling sorry for myself.

Things got better for me in 98 and everything worked out fine as I got myself out of that bad situation. However, whenever I think back to that time in 97 when I was working out in no man’s land and living with Medusa herself, I break out in with a case of the cold sweats.

My Favorite Year

I have had a lot of good years in my life. 2003, I got married and started a new job. 1998, I moved back to the south side and I met my wife. 1986, my junior year in high school, where I started to escape my geeky past and actually have a social life. However, when it is all said and done if I had to pick one year that was the best of them all so far, it would have to be 1989.

In 1989 there was nothing significant that happened, that I could point to as the defining moment. It was a time in my life when I was having fun and didn’t have responsibility. Here is a brief rundown of Nick’s life in 1989.

I was working at Kmart making about six bucks an hour. I split my time between the floor and working in the Pharmacy. The Mart was a social gathering point for me and my posse.

I attended Moraine Valley Community College. It took a year for me to warm up to the school but warm up I did. I loved my years at Moraine. I had a good old time there and was taking classes where I had friends in each. If I wasn’t at the Mart I was at Moraine.

I was still living at home. I was only twenty and I was not making near enough money to move out. It was cool though as my Mom and Step-Dad pretty much stayed out of my business and I was able to come and go as I pleased. I was driving an 82 Buick Skylark which I had purchased for $400 bucks. It got me around town and served its purpose.

On the weekends the question wasn’t is there a party, it was which party are we going to go to? I didn’t have a serious girlfriend, which was a huge plus as it allowed me the freedoms that I would soon give up. I could not call 1989 my favorite year without giving some highlights so here goes.

On Tuesday mornings during summer break from Moraine my friends and I would all go out to breakfast. Each week we went to a different place and we would rate each. (Yes, we were nerds.) We called ourselves the Tuesday morning breakfast club and after eating we would head back to the Hunger household. Paul, had printed out sheets in which we would rate each place. I think Jedi’s Garden was the best breakfast we ate and I know Steak and Egger on Central was by far the worst.

On Thursday nights, we would have movie nights at our house in Willow Springs. This usually entailed watching really bad and cheesy movies rented in the cult corner at Videomatic. I first saw Three on a meat hook, Psycho’s In Love, Suburbia, and Ilsa, Queen of the SS for the first time back on those Thursday nights.

Of course the Cubs won the NL East. Sure they lost in the playoffs but the Cubs gave me a great summer by coming out of nowhere to capture the division. The boy’s of Zimmer as they were called were led by Andre Dawson, Jerome Walton and Ryne Sandberg. They kind of remind me of this year’s Sox team in that they played way over their head all year and won when no one expected them to.

The year ended on with a great New Years Eve party that I threw. I have told that story before so I don’t want to bore those who already know it. That party was fifteen years ago and it still lives on in infamy. I could think of no other way to have ushered out the decade than the way we decided to.

All in all I guess 1989 was my favorite year simply because, it happened when I was young. I was twenty, still not old enough to get into bars. So, if I wanted to go drink, my friends and I were forced to bond by having a party and drinking at that. Once we could all legally get into bars the doors were opened. We no longer were relegated to trying to find a place to have fun. Instead of throwing a kegger, we could just go to our local watering hole and drink there. While, I loved that bar scene for a while and still enjoy it on some level there was nothing like the feeling of getting all your friends together and having a good old time. No one was married, no one had a mortgage, and no one had kids. We all just came and went, as we wanted. Sure, everyone gets older and responsibility is not a bad thing, it is nice now that I am older to be able to afford things I couldn’t back then. Still, in 1989 I had one hell of a great year.

The Stever

I am thirty-six years old. I started listening to Steve Dahl when I was ten sometime in 1979, which means I’ve been listening to him for twenty-six years. I’ve grown up with him. Having listened to him I’ve always kind of felt like part of his family. I remember each time his kids were born and can’t believe that of two of them have already graduated college. It just shows how long it truly has been.

In 1979 Steve Dahl was a young DJ who was doing things on the radio that no one had ever heard. He was funny and highly entertaining. It was in 79 that he organized Disco Demolition night, which has to go down as the greatest baseball promotion in history. However shortly after that WLUP fired him.

So, I moved with him as he went from the Loop, to WLS-FM, than to WLS-AM, than back to the Loop, than moving to AM-1000 and finally to his current home at WCKG. Through the years I have not been that loyal to anyone else. I’ve always found the guy to highly entertaining. He’s a smart-ass, and has alienated a lot of people throughout his career but in the end I still laugh at his show and that is all that matters. His song parodies always cracked me up. Or his lampooning of Les Grobstein (his sports guy) always kept me listening and hoping for more. I remember coming home from school, heading straight to the radio and flipping it on to catch Steve and Garry.

The only time I wavered in my support of Mr. Dahl was in the early 90’s when he split from his longtime partner Garry Meier. This upset me as I loved the duo and was not sure who was to fault for it. So, as both guys got their own shows it became apparent to me that Meier was the cause of the breakup. Dahl carried his ass and in fact if not for Steve, Gary would have never gotten above reading the news.

So, after the breakup I stood behind Dahl and continued to listen to him. At some point, (I think around 96, but I can’t be sure) he quit MVP and was without a job. I remember thinking how I missed his show and how I always took it for granted. Soon he landed on his feet at CKG, and I’ve been listening ever since. Even now as you listen to him I think back to how his show has changed over the years. From the young smart-ass who relied on imitations and song parodies to the older wiser skilled veteran who has, to me only gotten better with age. Often times I’ve been called a smart-ass and besides my Uncle Dan (who I owe most of my sense of humor to) listening to Steve Dahl has molded that side of my personality.

While I always loved his show, I never called in. As a matter of fact I’ve really never called into any radio show as I guess I felt that I wanted to listen rather than participate. However, I did get to meet him once. I was at Oakbrook mall waiting to go into the theater to go see Romy and Michelle’s High School Reunion. (Before I get nuked my girlfriend at the time really wanted to see it.) So there I am and I look over and see Steve Dahl with his wife. I was not sure if I should say anything so, I just went over and told him I was a big fan. The guy could not have been nicer to me.

Him and his wife chatted my girlfriend and I up the whole time before the film. As much as I had listened to him and Janet over the years, having met them I was in shock at just how cool his wife was. I walked away from the experience, with the feeling that this guy is the real deal and I’m sure he could have had the attitude of, “Oh great another fan who wants to chat with me.” As I am sure he gets that a lot. However, he had no airs about him and while I sat there and told him about how I had listened to him over the years he simply thanked me and told me he appreciated the loyalty.

So, as I read on his blog the other day that he is close to signing a five-year extension, it warms my heart. That means I get to have five more years of going home from work and putting him on the radio. He is a Chicago institution and I am not sure what I would do if I didn’t get my Steve fix on a daily basis.

Book Report Time

It has been a while since my last book report simply because in the summer I go out to lunch more and do more so that my reading kind of takes a back seat. With that said here is a brief rundown of the last five books I’ve read.

The Other Hollywood: The Uncensored Oral History of the Porn Film Industry, by Legs McNeil and Jennifer Osborne - This 620 page tomb is the end all be all of the history of pornography in the United States. While, I am not really a porn guy I’ve always had that desire for knowledge about the seedy side of America. Well, if you have any interest in the history of porn, read this book. It is a first hand account from the people themselves in the industry. It covers all the bases and there are a million stories in it. I found it fascinating and could not put it down. I didn’t want it to end, as each story was better than the next. Just a great read.

Scar Tissue by Anthony Kiedis and Larry Sloman - This is the life story of the lead singer of one of my favorite bands the Red Hot Chili Peppers. In this biography Kiedis tells of his lifelong struggle with drugs. Again, as a fan of the band I was going to dig all the in depth behind the scenes re-telling of the history of the Peppers. Where this book surprised me is that while I knew the author had some drug issues in his past I had no idea of the struggle he has had with it over the years. He had quit for six years and was doing great than one day he gets his tooth pulled and they drug him for it and just like that he was right back to full blown addiction. Overall if you are a fan of his music you will like the book, if not than obviously avoid it.

Don’t Eat This Book: Fast Food and the Supersizing of America by Morgan Spurlock – I am not sure why I read this as I was not a huge fan of Supersize Me and I had already read Fast Food Nation. This is a poor re-telling of that book and a 320 page snooze fest defending his movie. Sure he has some good points and I agree that as a whole we eat way too much fast food, which is horseshit to begin with. However, if you go to a Mickey D’s and expect to get a healthy meal than you are seriously misguided. We go there because the food tastes good. Being someone who likes things that make me feel good (like comfort food) I hate it when some one preaches to me the ills of eating, drinking, smoking, or shooting smack. This book was a bore and I wish I had spent time reading something else.

Silent Bob Speaks: The Collective Writings of Kevin Smith by Kevin Smith – I am a huge fan of Kevin Smith and as so have read most of the articles in this book. Basically it is a collection of various columns and other musings that Mr. Smith has written over the years. Even though I had already read most of it I was still laughing my ass off when I re-read them. This guy just has a way of tickling my funny bone. If you are not a big fan than well, most of the material will kind of be lost on you but if for no other reason than to get a first hand account of Reese Witherspoon’s personality I implore you to read that chapter. Of course I loved the book and recommend it to all.

Superstud: Or How I Became a 24 Year Old Virgin by Paul Feig – Paul Feig is the writer and creator of one of the greatest television shows of all time in Freaks and Geeks. The fact that it only got one season is proof that the TV audience is brain dead. Anyway, in this hilarious book, the author re-tells his humiliating experiences with the opposite sex. While reading this at Border’s, by myself I was laughing so hard that I was starting to get strange looks. This one I cannot recommend enough. I have often wondered how anyone could be twenty-four and still a virgin, and after reading this it all becomes crystal clear. I also recommend Kick Me his first book about growing up and getting beat up in high school.

Let's All Go To The Lobby

Have you been to the movies lately? Is it me or are there more and more dumb asses going out to see movies today? I guess it is more of a statement on society as a whole, but it has gotten to the point where a movie has to wow me for me plunk down the funds to watch it with a bunch of drooling barely up-right Homo sapiens.

You see, there are simple unspoken rules that we as a society have adopted when going to the local cineplex. In my past as a frequent movie patron I prided myself on adhering to these rules. Most of these movie codes are just common courtesy but I guess that is just too much to ask for some people. Sadly, I don’t see things ever getting any better but please allow me to vent.

Now, I realize complaining about lines at a movie is a no win situation. You have to expect them, particularly on a Friday night of a premiere. However, the lines could move a lot faster if people would just use their brains. It never ceases to amaze me. A person has gotten in their car, drove to the theater, and waited in line to purchase a ticket. You would think they would know what movie they are going to see. It amazes me how many times I’ll be in line waiting to buy tickets and the person in front of me has no idea what movie they want to see. News flash, your local paper has all the listings and the times of the movies. Do a little homework so that you don’t waste everyone’s time behind you.

Then, of course you go to the next wait, the popcorn line. This line is usually as long as a football field so you would think waiting in it people would know what they want when they get to the counter. Instead of looking at the colorful pictures of the items for sale with prices below most people take the time in line to blather on about every subject under the sun except what they are about to order. So of course when they finally do get to the counter they start thinking about what they want. First of all, the choices are very limited. Popcorn, candy, nachos, or a soda. Pick one, they are all equally bad for you. (I realize a lot of theaters offer hot dogs or ice cream but if you are contemplating eating a movie dog, please re-consider for your large intestine’s sake.) It is not like you are buying a house here. Get your $3.00 dollar Junior mints and extra large Diet Coke and keep the line moving.

So now you have your popcorn and soda and you are going to pick your seat. You sit down and a group of mouth breathers sit right behind you. Now, I don’t mind conversation before the previews start. However, as soon as those previews do in fact start that is a signal to shut the fuck up. Now, of course most people just keep on yapping. You would think that they would at least shut up once the main attraction starts. Instead they choose this time to offer opinions on the movie. No one cares what you think. Shut up and let those of us with an IQ over 80 watch the film.

If the person behind you is not talking then they are kicking your seat the entire time. This has become a big problem. I would say the last ten movies I’ve seen I had some Bozo behind me kicking the seat. Is it that hard to sit still? Are we all becoming hyperactive sugar junkies that can’t seem to sit still for a couple of hours? If they must move do these people have to kick my seat so hard that I have to see a chiropractor the next day to treat my whiplash?

Then of course, the same morons who bought their food and it eat really loudly. Sucking on ice seems to be the latest annoying trend. The other night I had a guy behind going down on a straw like Linda Lovelace for that last sip of precious soda. If you are still that thirsty get up and get a free refill instead of slurping so loudly that the movie is inaudible. Also, when eating chew with your mouth closed. Eating popcorn is a loud enough endeavor without making a slob of yourself. Also, when you’re done eating and the movie is over throw your own crap away. This keeps the theatre clean and makes life a lot easier on the ushers. It is not the usher’s responsibility to pick up after you. How hard is it to pick up your empty cup and popcorn bag and throw it away?

The thing about all of this is I much prefer to see a movie on the big screen than at home. Even with the invention of the DVD, there is still nothing like watching a movie in its intended form, on the big screen. It is just unfortunate that it is becoming such a pain in the ass.

Nick's Asshole Hall Of Fame

Asshole, it has been used many times by many people. In my thirty-six years on this planet I’ve met a lot of borderline assholes but there are five that come to mind who truly defined what that words means to me. Here is a brief rundown of them.

George Garrick, was this waste of sperm who was a big wig at IRI who dumped all of his stock one day in the company before it dropped form forty eight bucks to like twenty five. He knew our earnings report was going to way below expectations and his dumping caused a chain reaction. He also was a complete tool and treated everyone like they were below him. He had the classic blonde bimbo who he was screwing as his secretary. I don’t know anyone who worked there that didn’t hate his guts. Of course this dick is now a multi-millionaire as he created some tech company and sold that stock right before the tech stock burst.

Don Chamberlain was a fat, Canadian, old fart who never worked a day in his life. I had the displeasure of meeting him at Harris Bank. He was the classic rich old white guy who was good at one thing, cutting expenses. He could not manage his way out of a paper bag and had the people skills of a donkey. I’ve seen mutes with better verbal skills. However, since he was a good moneyman he was put in charge of a service area. It did not matter that this guy had never in his life dealt with people and would not know the front line from the hole in his enormous ass. He was in charge and he proceeded to alienate everyone in the company. One day the spineless and over paid joke of a human being called a mandatory meeting for my entire group. He then said that in a move that was sure to further our careers, (I guess his definition of further is standing in the unemployment line) we were “partnering” with EDS. The weasel didn’t have the balls to say the words outsourcing. He assured us that this was a move that had to be done to fight costs. He said the days of going to someone’s desk to fix problems were over and that it is too costly to do things that way. Basically he told us that all our past efforts and work were for nothing. We had to be sold off so the bank’s stock could go up a half a point and some rich motherfuckers could get even richer. Trust me this guy was the definition of an asshole.

John was another asshole I met in a work environment. I can’t remember this last name as I worked with him at Kmart. He was the type of guy who would pick a fight, and run and hide as soon as anyone showed interest in taking him up on it. He tattled on his co-workers, and he alienated everyone in the store. My first day working with him, I tried to do him a favor by telling him that our boss Mr. Holderson, would not like the way he was cleaning the grill. He told me basically to fuck off and then when Holderson yelled at him for the exact thing I told he would I found a great satisfaction in it.

Jeff Hook was a guy I also met from Kmart. He hung around with some mutual friends and, sadly I have had to deal with guy from time to time. He is the type of asshole who thinks he is better than anyone else and feels his shit doesn’t stink. I’ve had to golf eighteen excruciating holes with this ass-clown. By the ninth hole I wanted to take my 3-iron and bash it over his head. We were behind a group of people who happened to friends of mine. Now, I admit that none of the foursome was going to be going pro anytime soon. However, all Hook did was bitch and moan the entire time about how slow they were. It all hit the fan when he tee’d off right into them. So, because I was in his group, I had friends of mine pissed at me. I basically in as nice a manner as I could, told Hook that it is not cool to hit a golf ball at someone. He told me that “Maybe it will get those guys moving.” Golf should be relaxing and fun. There are no clocks and if you are in a hurry than it may not be the sport for you. Again this guy is a complete and utter asshole.

The last asshole I will chronicle is my old Land Lord, Anna. When I first moved into my apartment in Chicago Ridge I had this great guy from Florida who owned the place. He was great and anytime I needed anything he would provide it instantly. He was getting up there in age so, he decided to sell the place. For some reason he felt it was best to sell it to one of the worst human beings I’ve ever met. She quickly alienated the entire building so that within one year eleven out of the twelve tenants she inherited moved out on her. My air went out, and instead of trying to fix it she told me I broke it. I argued with her and begrudgingly she fixed it. My neighbor downstairs was ninety years old if you can believe it. So, his air also goes out and she pulls the same shit and this time would not fix it. Mind you the guy is ninety, and sweating his ass off in an apartment with no air. I could not believe it. The lock on the front door of the building broke and she didn’t fix it. The hallway carpet looked like the floor of a movie theater and she did nothing. This all boiled over when I wanted to re-new not only was she raising the rent to a ridicules level but she also wanted more of a security deposit. I basically in so many words told her to go fuck herself and hope she dies a horrible and painful death.

Humiliated On a Ten Speed

I realized that I made an erroneous statement in my post on the all-star game. While I have caught almost every mid summer classic, there is one that I missed. It was the 1986 game. The reason I remembered this is that it coincides with me getting slapped by a girl.

In the summer of 86 I was still on my ten-speed. I had not yet earned a license even though in June I turned 17. The reasons for this were many, mainly due to the fact that I had broken my arm right when I was starting my time in the car on my way to my blue slip. So, because I could not finish it I had to start the whole program from the start.

During my junior year of high school I had an Accounting class with this girl Cheryl. I sat right next to her and always made her laugh and we were always joking around. The teacher, Mr. Poreca was really a good guy and while he always chided me about my class clown behavior, it seemed on some level he enjoyed my antics. Being sixteen and clueless I never really got it that maybe this Cheryl girl was laughing at my lame attempt at humor for a reason.

So, as the year wore on I continued my act and then at the end of the year our yearbooks came out and she asked me to sign hers. I did and then she signed mine and told me to call her and left me her number. Finally it sunk in that maybe I should make a move with her. So, I called her and started dating her as best as a seventeen year old without a license could. Because I was of that age, I was totally embarrassed of my Mom (what teenager isn’t) and did not want her driving me over to her house so, I would usually peddle my bike over to her pad on Oconto in Bridgeview.

We would hang out at Haunted Trails, go to Burger King, and make out in her friend, Charlotte’s basement. So, I guess she was my girlfriend even though there was never anything official. Almost daily in the summer of 86 I rode my bike to her house and we hung out. She lived by my friend Mike Doyle and at the time I was hanging out with Doyle, Zar and eventually Chris Dusza.

Dusza, had access to his Mom’s Blue 85 Ford Escort Wagon. This opened up a whole new world to us and we would go to forbidden places like Orland. So, here I was having the time of my life with a girl on my arm and a song in my step. I was working at White Hen making forty bucks a week, which was a king’s ransom back then. Everything was going good until that July night of the All-Star game.

I had as per usual wanted to watch the game. So, Cheryl had asked if I wanted to come over that night and I told her I couldn’t because I wanted to be home to catch the game. She was cool with my baseball geekiness and I headed home intent on doing exactly that. The game was as it always is on a Tuesday night. This is significant for a reason.

There was a bar on 103^rd and Cicero called Field’s. On Tuesday’s it was teen night, meaning it would not serve liquor and would open the doors to the teenagers in the area. It was a dance club that I really wasn’t into but if you wanted to meet girls in Oak Lawn in 1986 this was a great source. So, from time to time Zar, Doyle, Dusza and myself would head up there. (Yes, I realize it is embarrassing that I hung out in a juice bar. I also played D&D and belonged to the Wilkins Magic Club in 7^th grade.)

I get home fully focused on the game when Zar calls me and tells me that they are all going to Fields and they were coming to pick me up. I told him don’t bother as I was going to stay home and catch the ballgame. He than gave me shit, and ridiculed me until I agreed to go with them.

So, Dusza picks me up in the chick magnet Escort and we were on our way. We get there and it is the usual fare of teen girls on one side of the dance floor and insecure males on the other. I grab a coke and watch as Zar busts a move to Dancing With Myself, by Billy Idol. Then from the corner of my eye I see this girl I go to High School with named Dawn. She heads over and we start to talk. Dawn was this really cool girl who while being quite attractive had none of those hang-ups. She wasn’t pretentious and was quite mature for her age. She got it, and knew most guys were only interested in getting in her pants. I long ago had gotten into the dreaded friend zone with her so, she considered me “safe.” Even though I secretly always had a crush on her as any hetro red blooded teen who ever laid eyes on her would have.

So, as we were talking, eventually we ended up on the dance floor, gyrating around to Venus, (The Bannan-rama version.) We might have danced a couple of songs but it was a long time ago and I don’t remember all the details. What I do remember is that it was strictly platonic, as I knew she was way out of my league and she was just happy to recognize a familiar face so she could dance with someone without having a bunch of horny teens drool all over her. So, the night ended, I got dropped off at home and didn’t think about it for another second.

The next day, I wake up call Cheryl and she tells me to come over like I had almost every day that summer. I get there and she asks me how the game was. At this point, not knowing what she knew I was forced to lie. Why I didn’t tell her I went to Fields, was simply because, I knew that since she was always bugging me to go there with her and here I go and I didn’t take her, she’d be pissed. That is why I lied. The Dawn thing never entered my mind.

So, I answer her telling her the game was great, the NL won and blah, blah, blah. She than asks if I went anywhere or anything and I flat out told her, “I just stayed in last night.” Before I could even get the sentence out of my mouth, her right hand shot up and slapped me right across the face. She than started screaming at me calling me a liar and a cheater. It seems that same Charlotte whose basement had become our love nest, was at Fields and saw me dancing with Dawn. She ratted me out and now I was in trouble. Cheryl yelled at me and even though I tried to explain basically she told me to never call her again.

I rode home with my tail between my legs and my face, beat red having my first experience with the whole hell knows no furry like a woman scorned thing. I tried making up with her and she would have none of it and eventually later that summer I would meet Nancy. Later on in life, I would wind up working with Cheryl’s Mom for seven years at Kmart and even had Cheryl in some classes at Moraine Valley. By then it was all water under the bridge, but I never forgot that July afternoon where I got slapped for the first but sadly not the last time by a member of the opposite sex.

Nail Him Up By His Balls.

I have always hated Norte Dame football. To me they represent everything that is wrong with college athletics. They always seemed to cheat just as much as anyone but had this “Were Norte Dame, we are above all of that nonsense” attitude. I always found the fans of the team to be hypocrites to the tenth power. I would point out things about the program not to like and they would shrug it off as no big deal and come up to be with how they are God’s team.

I just wanted to puke every time I heard that or about the “Touchdown Jesus they had in the end zone. I just never got the whole Norte Dame thing and what I never understood were the morons that never went to school there yet, still root for the team like it was life or death. All of this boiled over under the Lou Holtz era.

To me Lou Holtz was an arrogant cheating asshole that thought he was above it all. He was smug, condescending and felt he could do what ever he wanted because he was Lou Holtz. The height of my hate for him came in 1988 when he led Norte Dame to a National championship. I always contended that Holtz was as dirty a recruiter as any one else but the Irish faithful always told me how clean the program was. Than when they played Miami later in the year the game was dubbed the Criminals vs. the Saints. I would always ask just which team is which. Holtz seemed to bask in this we a re better than everyone else bullshit and it made me hate the man even more

My favorite story about him (and there are many) is about the kicker he was recruiting. There was a kicker Scott Bentley that was being recruited by both Florida State and Norte Dame. Holtz thought that since the kids dad went to South Bend that the kid would eventually see his way down to Indiana. Well, he decided to go to Florida State and the day his signed a letter of intent Lou Holtz called him. Holtz than proceeded to verbally assault the boy and tell him that his father who had just passed away was “rolling over in his grave” over his decision. He called the kid a traitor and told him he would always regret not following in his father’s footsteps. Ya, the guy’s an asshole.

So, it was with great glee that this morning I read in the paper than South Carolina, the school that Holtz would coach at next after leaving Norte Dame admitted to major violations under Holtz’s tenure. The school is now on two years probation and is going to be left in shambles because of his actions. It seems to me that this just proves what I’ve always believed. Holtz cheated in 88 and the only reason he wasn’t called to the carpet for anything was that he was the holier than thou Norte Dame.

You see, the NCAA is all about money and Norte Dame football is the biggest revenue generator of them all. There is no way they would kill the golden goose short of catching them red handed with their hands in the cookie jar. I mean Lou Holtz didn’t just wake up and say, you know what I ran a clean program at Norte Dame but, here if feel I have to cheat to win. The guy always been an asshole and a cheater and finally the chickens are coming home to roost. It’s about damn time.

Take Me Out To The All Star Game

Tonight is a special night to me. I have not missed a baseball all-star game since before I can remember. The All Star game has always been cool to me. Maybe it is because it brings me back to my youth and I can recount all the times I would sit up and watch Bruce Sutter come in to save the game or Dave Parker throw a be-be to home plate to nail Darrel Porter at the plate.

Sure, the game has changed and as I got older and more cynical I realized that a lot of the players are over paid spoiled jerks. However, there are still a lot of great players and really good guys in the game. Take, Derek Lee, the Cubs all world first baseman. He carries no baggage, he acts like a professional, when interviewed does not come off as an ass. Or, Albert Pujous, he is wise beyond his years and respects the history of the game and what his place is in it. For every Barry Bonds there are twenty Lee’s and Pujous’ out there.

I guess I’ve always liked that every team is represented and that by voting the fans have a direct result in who plays. As a kid the Cubs were never in the pennant race but come mid July I could catch Bill Buckner or Dave Kingman in the all-star game hitting against the American league. While, interleague play has kind of tarnished that uniqueness, on some level I still dig seeing the interesting match-ups. I also cannot stand that the home field for the World Series is determined on the outcome but that is life. It is still by far the best all-star game of the four major sports.

The Pro-bowl in the football is a complete joke as it is played after the season. It is beyond on exhibition and the game is so un-like the real product they should not even be allowed to call it football. Basketball’s all-star game is a farce as they play no defense and it just turns into a who can out dunk who track meet. Hockey used to be played and when it was it’s all-star game was a travesty with its North America Vs. the World bullshit.

So, tonight I will be home at seven o’clock eagerly anticipating the game. I will watch the player introductions just like I used to when I was a ten-year-old kid who collected baseball cards and would watch This Week In Baseball every Saturday morning. This was a time before cable and before ESPN. If you wanted to see a Ron Guidry, Reggie Jackson, Rod Carew, or Jim Rice you had better catch the All-star game to do so. So, even in today’s all access to everything society I still can find that innocence in mid summer classic.

People Suck

Here we go with another vent. Whenever, I run out of idea's I can always go to the well.

Oblivious People – You know the type. They are walking around in their own world and are not aware of anyone else. They talk on their cell phone in the grocery store taking up the whole aisle. They don’t move their cart to let anyone get through the aisle. These dolts have the unique ability to disregard the rest of society’s feelings and do what they please. No one else in the world matters I guess. The most glaring example of this is when I get off of the train and head up the escalator at Union Station. There is a sign clearly marked to stand on the left and walk on the right. Nothing grates me more than when you have some asshole that stands on the right side so that now the whole escalator gets jammed with people. It’s like I don’t care if a hundred people behind me have to wait I am going to stand here and not use my legs.

Unhappy married people – When I was getting married I had so many people come up to me and tell me of the horrors of marriage. I felt like saying, if you are that unhappy than get a fucking divorce already. Just because you married either to young or out of a desperate fear of being alone do not assume that I am going to do the same thing. When you add kids to the mix this only makes it worse. If you hate you spouse and the only reason you are staying together is for your kids, trust me you are doing more harm than good. Those kids are eventually going to resent you for raising them in a hostile environment. As much as divorce sucks it is a better alternative than raising kids in a loveless existence.

Automated phone operators – You know how much could it really cost a company to actually have a live human being answering the phone? There is nothing I hate more than calling the electric company with a question and having to go through fifteen prompts to get an actual person. The next time I call a company 800 number and a real human picks up that is a company that is going to get my business for the rest of my life.

Sunday Weddings – Unless that Sunday is right before a Monday holiday there is nothing worse than a Sunday wedding. Usually some cheap ass will figure hey, to save money why don’t we get married on a Sunday. While, it is indeed cheaper, I always give a Sunday gift. Meaning I discount my normal gift by 40 percent. Knowing people do in fact work for a living, you are inconveniencing your guests and insuring your wedding reception is going to over by 8:30. I’ve been to a lot of bad weddings and the few Sunday weddings I’ve been to have all sucked.

Line Dancing – Is there anything more un-hip and robotic like than line dancing? It is usually a bunch of overly white people getting in a line and doing the exact same sheep like movements that they call dancing. Let me tell you, Line Dancing requires no rhythm, which is usually essential to dancing. Not that I am a Travolta out there, but I refuse to dance to anything with instructions. I need to free form when I am shaking my moneymaker. It is a sad statement when every fucking wedding I go to (including my own) I have to endure this zombie, hillbilly, cracker ass “dancing.”

Britney Spears – Alright, I know that there have been talentless diva’s out there that have sold records forever but, isn’t it time for this hack to get off of the front pages of People. Other than the whole Lolita factor just what is there to like about her? Her concerts are her just dancing and lip-synching. Her songs are all about getting laid and she dresses like a cheap hooker. Why anyone gives a shit about her is beyond me. I ask for the good of society that she just go back to the trailer park she came from have about fifty kids, pork up and leave us alone. She already has enough of our money.

Bare Feet in Public – Is there anything more disgusting than someone walking around with bare feet. There is nothing more nauseating than being in a store looking down at some red neck and they are walking around with there yellow toe nailed, black bottomed, smelling disgusting feet. Listen, no one wants to smell your foot order. The next time I see one of these yokels walking around in bare feet, I am going to eat a large quantity of sauerkraut and go right up to them and break wind right in their face. To me one behavior is no worse than the other.

Fat People in the Rascal’s at the Grocery Store – Listen, if you have a legitimate health problem than by all means use that motorized cart in the store. That is what it is there for. My problem is with the woolly mammoth’s that squeeze their 400-pound asses into them. If anyone needs the exercise it is these rhino’s, yet they feel the need to just shoe horn into a cart and wheel around the store, buying more food that they obviously don’t need. These are the dregs of the dregs of society who could care less about physical appearance or their own health and figure why walk when I can just go around in this motorized cart and let it do my walking for me. Pathetic, simply pathetic.

Diet Beer – I hate to break this to people but beer is not good for you. It also can add pounds to your frame. The flip side of this is that it tastes good. I am not drinking it to promote good health. So, I don’t need Lite or low carb beer that taste about as flavorful as a plain rice cake. These pussies that go out and buy Michelob Ultra so that they can enjoy beer with the out the carbs are morons. Beer has carbs, if you don’t want them than don’t drink beer. Now, when I hit the liquor store, shelf space that used to go to good beers is being taken up by pseudo beers that only dumb ass yuppies want to buy.

What's Going On

Sorry for the lack of posts. The reason for the lull in activity is due to both the holiday weekend and the fact that I am getting my ass kicked at work. Here is a brief rundown of the last week or so.

Friday – I got out of work at three, as the office was dead. So, with the extra time I sat on my ass and watched the end of the latest Cub’s loss. I knew it was going to be a crazy weekend so; I tried to not make a lot of plans. The wife and I went to eat at Taj Mahal an Indian restaurant in Orland. I could give or take the place. I mean I like Indian food and all but the best thing I can say about this place is its location. Unfortunately, our area does not offer a lot of Indian places so we kind of have to live with this one. While it is not bad, I certainty have had a whole lot better. We than had to hit Cub foods so Joyce could buy some supplies for making some potato salad. After that, we headed home and I pop in the Corporation from Netflix. It is a long ass movie and just makes me want to start the revolution myself. I than went to bed for the evening.

Saturday – I got up and went to the bank and the post office. Knowing that I was going to a cookout later in the day I did not want to pig out for lunch so I grabbed a salad there and Joyce and I split a Panini. After eating and watering the plants outside, we headed to my Aunts house in Lemot for a cookout. I enjoyed some chicken and a couple of sausage sandwich’s and washed it all down with Pabst. I than proceed to get my ass kicked at whiffle ball. I have been playing so much softball that my whiffle swing is completely out of whack. After the humiliation at the hands of my cousin Mike, my brother and my wife, I settled into the house for some cards. Eventually we headed home for the evening.

Sunday – Got up and had yet another cookout to hit as my cousin Kevin was having a going away party in the woods. He is moving to Las Vegas in early August. So, I got up went to Walgreen’s to get a card and than grabbed a cup of soup from the Patio. We then proceeded to Bolingbrook to my cousin’s party. I only had one beer, as I was not in a drinking mood. I did get some revenge on my wife by beating her at badminton. We also threw a Frisbee around and played a couple of games of bags. I wished my cousin well in Vegas and headed home to catch Entourage. I than put in Sideway’s, which while not a bad flick was not as good as advertised.

Monday – For the 4^th I purposely tried to clear the plate as I had already had a hectic weekend. I did some work in the garage and ran to Menards. I went to the grocery store and bought a chicken as my wife had bought this device to cook a chicken on the grill with a beer can. So, we made that and it came out pretty good. I sat around watched the Cubs lose yet again and got ready for the week ahead at work.

Tuesday – It was the first day back after a three-day weekend and everyone kind of has that post holiday fog going. I had another uneventful day at work and had to head to my Aunt’s in Frankfort to try to fix her computer. I won’t go into the boring details but she has a somewhat old machine that is having some major issues, which are casing her not to be able to get her e-mail. Sadly, after a couple of hours I was not able to fix them and I have come to the conclusion that her pc needs to be upgraded. The wife and I hit Ricobenne’s on the way home and I ate a great breaded steak sandwich.

Wednesday – I spent the morning and afternoon just getting my ass kicked at work. I mean it was brutal. The day flew by, as I was not able to sit down all day. I then headed home for my softball game. The Softball’s just creamed this other hapless team and we won by the amazing score of 18-2. We have finished third in the league, which means we made the playoffs, and get a game next week. Considering we started 0-3 we have been on quite a run as of late. After the game I hit the Castle (the bar that was kind enough to sponsor us) and grabbed a steak sandwich and a couple of Miller High Life’s.

A 4th Of July Story

It was one of the best summers of my life. July 1989, I was twenty years old. I was working at Kmart, going to Moraine and even though I had little money it was enough to take care of my beer and cd consumption. I was stuck working on July 3^rd and my friends and I were planning to go catch the fireworks at Rice Park in Burbank later on that night. At this point in my life I was kind of self-absorbed and was kind of not being that great when it came to females. I was a constant flirt and had done some things that I am not very proud of.

Moving on, I was at work and up came this real cute girl. She looked somewhat familiar but I could not place her. She came up and said, “Hi Nick.” I looked and her but I just could not place her. She than said, “You don’t recognize me do you?” I didn’t, as a matter of fact I was clueless, so I said, "Sorry I can’t seem to place you." She than replied, “It’s Jenny, Debbie's friend.” It than hit me and I was in complete shock.

For a little history let me go back. My friend Zar used to date this girl Debbie. We used to call her Blanche, for some reason. None of Zar’s friends (myself included) could stand this girl. However, Zar was a buddy so we tried to tolerate her as best we could. Debbie had this friend Jenny who was always around. It was mentioned that she kind of liked me but this girl was not my type. She was a little on the heavy side, wore these think rimmed glasses and had this scraggly brown hair. She seemed to be nice and all but I just wasn’t interested. I mean I was no prize myself but when you’re not interested, you’re not interested.

So one day Zar asks me if I could do him a favor and go with Him, Debbie, and this Jenny girl to Great America. Now, I had no desire to go but he kind of pressured me into it. So, the whole day I am riding rides with this Jenny girl trying to be nice but not trying to be to nice, if you know what I mean. At the end of the night when we were in the car this Jenny tried to hold my hand and I pulled it back faster than Carl Lewis. Then when we went to drop off the girls I kind of blew her off. The details are a little hazy at this point but I know I was kind of being an ass as Debbie chewed me out the next day. Eventually Zar dumped her and I never gave this girl another thought. That was until she was right in front of me that July day at Kmart.

She had dropped at least twenty-five pounds, was wearing contacts, had this beautiful blonde hair and was wearing make up. Once she had cleaned herself up this one time wallflower was looking pretty good to my twenty-year-old, horn dog ass. So, I started flirting with her, and she was flirting right back. As I was stocking the shelf we were laughing and talking and I thought I was just killing with my lame ass material. So, eventually I told her that I was going to Rice Park and that she should meet me up there. She said she would love to and that she would meet me at 8:30. So, we set up a meeting point in the park and she was on her way. I never got a phone number but I thought I would just get that later when I saw her.

So, now I am stoked. So, I do what any immature twenty year old male does, I blabbed to my friends. I told them I had this knockout of a girl meeting me up at the park and they would not believe how hot she was. I was making my sophomoric jokes and really started talking shit about how cool it was going to be to hook up with her. I was so sure about it that I brought an extra lawn chair with me so she could sit with us.

So, my group and I go to the park. I find the spot I told her to meet me at and we set up shop. Again, this was sixteen years ago so the details get foggy but I think, Chris, Rob, Wally, and maybe Bill Curillo with there with me. The clock ticked to 8:30 and she was not there. Than at nine still no sight of her. I than at that point went out on an exploratory mission with a flashlight in the dark to try to find her. I looked everywhere and never found her. The fireworks started and all my friends sat back and made fun of me and told me how full of shit I was about meeting this girl I must have made up in my head.

At that point it dawned on me that she was getting back at me. She purposely stood me up. This was her way of getting revenge on me. As I once thought I was out of her league the truth was she was know out of mine, and she knew it. She used that to get back at me and she taught me a lesson. I mean she never came back in the store to try to explain her standing me up. Then again maybe she was there and we simply did not cross paths and then thought better of hooking up with me. EIther way, I learned a lesson. I would try as best as I could to never be that selfish asshole I was back then. Sometimes, I failed but every 4^th of July when I see that sign go up on 79^th street about the fireworks at Rice Park I am reminded of how I was humiliated in 1989.