Rocket Fever

The Rocket Has Landed

2008-08-01T15:25:00.000-07:00

This is the 978th and final post on Rocket Fever.

After more than three years, this blog has fulfilled its purpose. I started Rocket Fever to tell the story of my journey into the uncertain world of my life after Cleveland. RF followed me through my rehab assignment in Lansing, and on to my regeneration in Los Angeles. Then it became a chronicle of the wonders of living in such an amazing city.

And now that I know the difference between the 405 and the 105, why the Clippers aren’t worth anyone’s time, where the city’s best lunch can be had ... it’s time to retire this Web space. Residency and familiarity have taken away the wide-eyed tone that gave Rocket Fever its voice.

That isn’t to say that my L.A. story is over. For the first time in my adult life, I’ve reached three years in a city and have no immediate plans to leave. I’ve been a mover all my life, stretching back to the days when my sister and I would go back and forth between our parents’ houses every week. I’m honestly confused over how to proceed at this point: Will I try and build upon a life in one place, or will old habits rise up and push me to some other point on the map?

I have no clue, but I do know that answering that question will be my next great adventure. One, though, that won’t be chronicled online. This will be a more private endeavor.

I’d like to thank everyone everywhere — Los Angeles, the Midwest, down South, the East Coast, abroad — for reading and commenting. We’ve had some lively conversations on Rocket Fever (mustard vs. ketchup, the relative merits of the drunk dial, olive burgers), all because of you. And a special thanks to Hud, my co-contributor on the site all these years.

Which leads me to ask: When will Maggie start her blog?

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And always remember you can catch me at Hudson & Gaines, The City Desk, The Dopp Kit, and my Flickr page.

First Quake!

2008-07-29T11:54:00.000-07:00

A 5.4 earthquake hit Southern California today. It lasted for no longer than five seconds.

As luck would have it, I was using the facilities when it started. First I thought one of the exhaust fans on top of the building was going too fast. Then, when the walls started to shake, I realized it was a quake. I quickly went to the doorway (luckily remembering to zip up), as did my cross-hall neighbor, Will. We exchanged "Whoa!"s, and then it was over in a flash.

No damage visible here in Los Feliz. As you can see, a few things fell off shelves, but that was the extent of the disruption here.

Mike reports things are fine up in Glendale, except that Maggie was disappointed her nap was interrupted.

UPDATE: Suddenly aware of my own mortality, I'm getting tacos from Yuca. You just never know when that carne asada may be your last.

UPDATE: Through the strife, Yuca still makes an amazing chili cheeseburger.

Amazing!

2008-07-11T11:42:00.000-07:00

Where the Hell is Matt? (2008) from Matthew Harding on Vimeo.

If you don't get goose bumps watching this, you're not human.

Bigger version here.

Thanks to Rotan for passing it along!

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So there’s not tons to add to this, and I don't want to ruin the effect by overstating things, but I just can't get this video out of my head. What a gorgeous thing to have this four-minute piece of unbridled celebration pop up on your screen. Dancing, as it's titled, isn't a joke at someone's expense, it's not a political message, and it's only kind-of sort-of just-barely an ad for something (kudos to the sponsor for staying largely out of the way).

What a fun thing to watch! A hundred viewings will reveal a hundred new details: the guy in Paris who bites it as the crowd rushes in (:54), the kid in Fiji who flips into the water (1:26), the guy in Sweden on the right who might be the best dancer in the whole thing (1:33), Matt stopping to laugh on the Solomon Islands (1:40), the people on the bridge in New York (2:56), the toddler living it up in the right corner in Mexico (3:24), the guy doing a John Carlos-inspired move on the left in Brazil (3:35).

And I'll be happy to engage in what The New York Times calls "one-world feel-goodism" in its piece on Dancing. All hail the genius of video editing for concentrating into a few short minutes the beauty and joy that exists everywhere. There's a lot of bad shit that goes down all over the world, and I understand why a lot of it is newsworthy. But a century of courageous international reporting on upheaval and destruction has left too many of us looking at the world with a skewed perspective. Karis, my globetrotting girlfriend, has taught me what this video shows: The world is dominated by benevolent people who go about their lives same as everyone else, and a few of them love dancing in a crowd.

Three Years of Independence in Los Angeles

2008-07-04T08:49:00.000-07:00

It was around July 4, 2005, when my Ford Focus and I ended our cross-country journey to L.A. We had bested urban obstacle courses, endless plains, mountains in the clouds, violent storms, mechanical failure, Utah, and the searing desert heat. It most certainly doesn't seem like yesterday.

Happy Fourth of July, everybody. Rocket Fever loves you.

Introducing The Dopp Kit

2008-07-01T07:24:00.000-07:00

For years, my good friend Brent and I have had a running conversation about male grooming in general and shaving in particular. We talk shop about products, technique, mystique. After so many evenings of such back and forth, we recently hit upon the idea to start a blog on the subject.

The Dopp Kitt, in its first couple weeks of existence, has already hit upon various creams and aftershaves, the unfortunate tinkering P&G has done to the beloved Old Spice brand, and, um, baby wipes. But the blog is going to be much more than just a litany of product reviews. As I write in the introduction:

The few square inches comprising a man’s cheeks and neck are his domain in total. They are his ever-changing canvas, a lifelong work that may be perfected but will never be finished. ...

Every man shaves. The organization man shaves every day. The independent shaves as he pleases. Even the most pious Muslim must have shaved once. Splash warm water, apply lather, scrape with a blade. This is the ritual that each of us share.

Brent and I invite you -- all of ya, women included -- to submit your own posts on the vagaries of grooming. Especially about the best way to get at the area directly underneath the chin, my personal Bermuda Triangle of shaving.

The Big Uno

2008-06-25T05:37:00.000-07:00

One of the joys of my life for the past year has been watching Margaret June Hudson grow up. This is the most time I've ever spent with an infant, so I never appreciated how new humans change almost every day. In 12 months she’s gone from a kitten-size package with closed eyes to a Buckley-size little girl with eyes that melt your heart. I absolutely cannot wait to see what happens next with Mike and Becky’s daughter, and I'm already in line for tickets to her Nobel/Pulitzer/MVP acceptance ceremony years from now.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MAGGIE JUNE!

CONGRATULATIONS, MIKE AND BECKY!

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Remember

when?

The Long, Satirical Arm of the Law

2008-06-13T09:58:00.001-07:00

R.J. White and I have cooked up a new occasional feature for The City Desk: a police blotter highlighting some of the more notable acts of law-breakage in the city. Check it!

The Micah Muzio Sonic Attack

2008-06-06T18:08:00.000-07:00

Micah Muzio*, producer extraordinaire of Hudson & Gaines and all-around autodidactic polymath, has an audio blog. Ya got yer rock tunes, yer film scores, yer experimental interludes. Check him out, and send him notes.

(And if you’re wondering, yes he told me about this audio blog a month ago but I’m only getting around to posting about it now. It’s called Rocket Fever because I opened a Ray Bradbury book, not because I’m fast.)

*I spent a long time searching for the dorkiest possible photo.

The Great Thing About This Shot ...

2008-06-04T08:57:00.001-07:00

Get Him!
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

... is that Margaret only has about four teeth at this point. Just wait until she has a full arsenal!

Lucifers

2008-06-04T08:51:00.001-07:00

Lucifers
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

Just what Los Feliz needs: ANOTHER hell-themed pizza maker. Click the image for more!

Five Guys Burgers and Fries

2008-06-04T08:42:00.001-07:00

Five Guys Burgers and Fries
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

This here is one of the better burgs I've had in a long while. Click the image for more details.

Another One Bites the Dust Jacket

2008-05-30T15:47:00.000-07:00

Got some bummer news from O.G. Lansing friend B. Shiels yesterday: Lansing's Community Newscenter has finally closed. I can't believe it lasted this long. Shiels and I were reminiscing yesterday about how the porn mags were right next to the sports pubs, so we always found ourselves standing next to the greasies who commonly came in to get their adult fix. The bookstore was maybe the last remaining link with the old, weird Frandor shopping center just across from Ma's house. Frandor is still there, but it long ago lost its spooky, musty charm to the vagaries of renovation.

The Newscenter was preceded in death by Grand Gourmet, the Spartan Theater, the Odeon, that Native American gift store no one ever shopped at, Frandor Barber (right?), and an ATM that gave money in $5 denominations. It's survived by (the new) Marshall Music, Kroger's, Video to Go, Tripper's, Frandor Deli, and Gumby's Pizza (I hope!).

Here's to the inevitable ...

Welcome: Alden M. Kirby

2008-05-30T08:52:00.001-07:00

22 May
Originally uploaded by The Kolorado Kirbys

Rocket Fever is proud to announce the birth of the family's first boy, Alden Kirby. He was born in Colorado on May 22 to Meghan and Michael Kirby. My Ma reports he's a handsome guy, and that he instantly has some very recognizable facial features.

My parents are out there right now doing their grandparental duties, helping Meghan as they can and having tons of fun with granddaughters Ivie and Elly. Mike, as you can see from the photo, got to come home for the birth. He shipped back out to Iraq yesterday.

Please join me in offering the Kirbys that time-honored Rocket Fever salute: HUZZAH!

2008-05-28T21:30:00.000-07:00

frequent posting and capital letters will take a back seat for the next few days as i recover from a devastating (not really) elbow injury suffered after wiping out during street football this past weekend. this is the price i pay for running a good route; hairpin turns on gravel are inadvisable.

but in case you were wondering, the weekend up at bodega bay was once again incredible. more details to follow.

until then, make rocketboom a regular part of your internetting, join the fracas on 90 percent, and buy scott mcclellan's book.

2008-05-21T21:23:00.001-07:00

I didn't bring my camera to the Dirtbombs show because I knew Rena would. Check it out!

Another Memorial Day Tradition

2008-05-21T19:55:00.000-07:00

My yearly trip to wine country for Memorial Day Weekend means that I always have to miss the Valley Greek Festival. I'm going to talk to Alethia Calagias, the marketing queen behind this Olympian-size event, about moving it to Labor Day next year. C'mon, Alethia, just for me? Huh?

That said, if I can't be there, it means I'm leaving a spot for you to fill. If you're in L.A. this weekend and love the Mediterranean (and its food — I mean, seriously!) as much as I do, the Valley is the place to be.

This Is What Happens When You Live and Work Alone:

2008-05-21T10:28:00.001-07:00

The wind just blew open my windows, and I said, “It’s like Neverending Story in here!”

And there was no one around to make fun of me.

Best May Ever?

2008-05-20T21:23:00.000-07:00

Consider:

Traveling through Turkey, which stands as the coolest thing I’ve ever done.
Seeing the Dirtbombs — finally! — play live, which stands as one of the greatest rock shows I’ve ever attended.
Making a well-received Turkish breakfast for L.A. friends, just to give them a taste of Anatolian greatness.
Watching the Dodgers grind out a come-from-behind victory over the Reds at Maggie June’s first baseball game.
Planning a return trip to Sonoma and Bodega Bay in keeping with what’s becoming a legendary family Memorial Day tradition.

New Vid: Backyard Overrun w/Huds 'n' Water

2008-05-19T00:39:00.000-07:00

Fun with Eggs

2008-05-15T20:54:00.000-07:00

I bought two of these ... what do you call them? They're not pots or pans, but you put them on the stove. They're not bowls or plates, but you can serve food in them. One of you clowns must know what you call these things. Anyone?

No matter. What's important is that I bought two of them from a stall near the Egyptian Spice Bazaar in Istanbul, and they are handy little pieces of hardware. I'm sure they have many kitchen applications, but as of now I'm using them primarily for egg dishes. The Gaines kitchen will produce many variations on the scrambled-eggs-with-X theme during the coming months, so long as the summer heat doesn't shut me down.

Above is my first go, and I'm proud to say it's a hit. What we got here are two eggs, mixed with a bit of water and thrashed before pouring into a hot ... thing. Then, after letting the eggs cook for just a bit, in goes chicken basil sausage (sautéed beforehand), sun-dried tomatoes, and feta cheese. Toss in pinches of kosher salt and top-secret Turkish red pepper, and let the family slowly coalesce over medium-low heat. Next time I'll chop the sausage a bit smaller, but other than that, I'm happy as hell with dinner tonight.

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Istanbul is overrun with stray dogs. I believe the city neuters/spays and tags them, and they're harmless, from what I've seen. (Although they don't fare too well on an F1 track.) So here's my question: How come I saw dog poo only once during my three weeks in Turkey, but I hop over it daily in Los Feliz?

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I think I've finally readapted to citywide use of areas dedicated solely to pedestrian traffic. I think we call them sidewalks. Istanbul is lined with miles and miles of side streets that serve walkers and drivers. They're narrow and hilly, and the drivers couldn't care less if they hit you: caveat pedestrian. Every day, Karis, blessed with 180-degree vision, sensed cars coming up behind her and smoothly moved to the side. I, on the other hand, narrowly escaped death by Peugeot or Renault on an hourly basis.

Rube Goldberg Lives

2008-05-14T09:57:00.000-07:00

The City Desk has a dandy piece about a junk hoarder's house ruined by fire. Well worth your time.

(The fire's intricate line of causation reminds of me of the classic, if I do say so myself, Hudson & Gaines episode about the meek nerd who was injured after an impossible series of events started by a surprise scorpion.)

Hotness

2008-05-13T01:14:00.001-07:00

The Final Post Card

2008-05-11T13:20:00.000-07:00

We visited three towns on our week of travel throughout Turkey, and thoroughly enjoyed two of them. Bodrum, where we flew in to, confirmed for me that junky coastal towns exist everywhere, not just in the U.S. The chintz factor, and the rain, chased us out of the city the next day up to Izmir, also on the Mediterranean coast.

This is a bit of a stretch, but Izmir is the Cleveland of Turkey. It's gritty, and lacks the immediate beauty of the other Turkish towns I visited. But it is home to some of the nicest people I've ever met. The merchants are friendly and not pushy in the least. The restaurateurs are helpful and smiling. Even the seedy hotel proprietors invite you to drink tea with them.

After a few days in Izmir, we hit the road for Ayvalik, where I fell in love. It's the most beautiful town I've ever seen. I had a moment the first time I walked onto the patio and took in the view. As the picture in my previous post shows, the view is built around the church that was converted to a mosque after the Greeks were deported early in the 20th century. (Long story.) I wonder if Ayvalik is one of the few places on Earth where you hear church bells at the bottom and top of every hour and the call to prayer five times a day.

We were in Ayvalik for only four days, but it seems like we did so much: spells on two deserted stretches of water, a memorable walk down a country road, gorgeous archaeological sites in the nearby town of Bergama, olive oil procurement, market browsing, not nearly enough lounging around. It occurs to me that I've never missed a place. I miss Ayvalik.

There are some thoughts rattling around my head regarding life in Turkey and a changed perspective on life in the U.S. But those haven't composed themselves yet, but I'll be sure to relay them when they have.

The Flickr set, almost complete, is here.

Let's Get to the Happies

2008-05-10T10:05:00.001-07:00

Happy birthdays to Michael C. Hudson (today), and Nazanin X. Arandi (tomorrow)!

And Happy Mother's Days to: my dear, sweet Ma; family matriarch Joan "Nana" Mellinger; Grandma Ida Gaines; new mama Rebecca A. Hudson; the highly esteemed Mrs. Ruth Eklund; Grandma Diane Baird; my sister-in-law (and soon to be mother-a-third-time) Meghan Kirby; other sister-in-law and bird lover Sarah Kirby; O.G. S'news mom Katie Rexrode; Cleveland's own Christine "Flash" Moran; the pride of Greenville, Erin Davis; Valley queen Mary Glarum; Guy's favorite au pair, Andrea; the pride of Izmir, Turkey, and expectant mother Yasamin; and Bay Village's own Kelly Zawacki!

Back in Istanbul

2008-05-04T23:21:00.001-07:00

Ayvalik. Sigh.
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

Holy moly and jeeze Louise: We had an amazing trip throughout Turkey. Bodrum, Izmir, and beautiful Ayvalik.

But now it's on to a mad rush during my last two full days in Istanbul. Don't quite believe this visit is coming to a close. Certainly wouldn't mind if my flight were delayed a week.

A flurry of reports will come when I'm back in the States.

90 Percent: A Great Day in Title Town

2008-05-01T23:32:00.000-07:00

Check out our awesome mostly-baseball blog here for good times...but especially today, where we relive the Glory Days of the Tigs historic sweep at Yankee Stadium, the Pistons advancing...but most importantly, the Avs/Wings rivalry...

Sure, hockey is not all that interesting...but the late 90s were in the D. And it's worth revisiting now that the Wings swept the hated ones out of the Cup Playoffs with an 8-2 win last night. Plus, lots more...

Istanbul Post Card 5

2008-04-26T11:44:00.001-07:00

One vs. Many
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

Cloudy happy days in Istanbul. Yesterday Karis and I, admittedly exhausted from taking in so much of this city during the past week, stayed in and watched "Children of Men" and Hitchcock's "To Catch a Thief," which I was mildly disappointed by. Not nearly enough suspense.

Today was maybe our best culinary day, punctuated by yogurt, potatoes, and waffles (see the Flickr page for more details). Istanbul is the only city I know where certain neighborhoods are closely identified with certain culinary delights. Kumpir in Ortakoy, yogurt in Kanlica, borek in Sariyer, ice cream in Moda, boza in Vefa. Can you imagine L.A. having only one neighborhood known for its tacos?

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OK, so don't freak out, but our cruise was canceled. We were deeply bummed out by this a few days ago, but now look at it as a blessing in disguise: We've received a full refund AND a free cruise anytime between now and 2009. Score.

So instead of taking the cruise, tomorrow Karis and I will fly to the resort town of Bodrum (what was to be our port of call) and then make our way back up to Istanbul over land. Our rough itinerary includes stops at classical sites, coastal towns, and cultural areas. We won't have regular Internet access during this time, but something tells me you guys will have no problem repeatedly watching the video of Maggie June crawling. I certainly don't.

OK. I want everyone on their best behavior while we're gone, got that? And if the Tigers could continue straightening out their season, that'd be great. Am I reading right that the bullpen is doing better than the starters? I can't tell what's crazier: baseball or international travel.

We Interrupt this Travelogue...

2008-04-24T23:10:00.001-07:00

Istanbul Post Card 4

2008-04-22T06:41:00.001-07:00

Best Food in Istanbul
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

After a grand time in Sultanahmet, the historic district that counts as Old Istanbul, Karis and I returned to her apartment, where we broke bread for two consecutive nights with her neighbors Gem and Yasmin. On the second night, the Upstairs Turks put on an amazing spread consisting of about a dozen dishes, few of which I know the name for: a sweet bean dish in a light tomato broth eaten with yogurt, a mountain of bulgur with parsley and other herbs drizzled with pomegranate sauce, salads, olives and white cheeses (there are always, always olives and white cheeses), the most excellent almonds I've ever munched, and more than enough raki.

Raki is the Turkish national drink. The anise-flavored liquor, which has an angrily high alcohol content, is served in narrow cylindrical glasses — three parts water to one part raki. Raki is clear in the bottle, but turns milky opaque with the water. It's meant to be drunk slowly, so it's Turkish custom to always have food on the plate during a raki session. This was an impossible custom to follow, as every time my plate was replenished, I cleaned it in short order.

Dig the Flickr page for an explanation of this nice man with the mussels and for shots of me and raki, the fishermen of Istanbul, and more images from this consistently amazing trip.

Tonight: a ballet preceded by ayron and lahmacun.

Istanbul Post Card 3

2008-04-20T00:38:00.001-07:00

IMG_0254
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

We've traveled a few miles and thousands of years in the past few days. Karis and I have been in the historic district of Sultanahmet for the past couple days. We've toured the Hagia Sofia, part of the Blue Mosque, a mosaic museum, the Archeology Museum, and the Basilica Cistern. And the food we've eaten! Kebap, various forms of fish, street food, stuffed mussels (my new favorite), mezze (small plates), raki (the black licorice flavored national drink), Turkish coffee, tea, killer baklava. Holy Toledo. Today we're off to more of the Blue Mosque, Topkapi Palace, and an art museum. Tonight some neighbors are hosting us for fish and raki.

Istanbul Post Card 2

2008-04-18T02:39:00.001-07:00

Brain 2
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

Karis's friend Audrey is in town doing art research. She's also doing some culinary research, and I agreed to join her on an expedition last night: eating sheep's brain. How'd it taste? Go poke around the Flickr page to find out. Yesterday was spent checking out an art museum, walking around bazaars, sitting in the courtyard of a mosque listening to the call to prayer, and eating with gusto. Today it's off to a historic district (which sounds funny to me, because this whole city hits me as a historic district).

Istanbul Post Card 1

2008-04-17T04:17:00.001-07:00

First Breakfast
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

Mer habba! Karis whipped up an amazing breakfast today. Not sure why all meals aren't like this. The trip in was butter smooth, even through the feared Heathrow T5. Heading out in a bit to take in the river and visit the Istanbul Modern.

2008-04-15T11:12:00.000-07:00

Today I mark another notch in the stick that measures the transformation in my life since leaving Cleveland. I’ve made quite a few since 2005: departing from Ohio, moving to Los Angeles, helping create Hudson & Gaines, working at the L.A. Weekly, quitting the Weekly for my freelance business. I consider each of these events seminal moments in that Buddha path that my uncle wisely described for me a few years ago. Collect them all, and they help describe the point I’m at: the happiest, most creative time in my life. Never have I been so excited to learn what happens next.

And so it is that in a few hours I’ll begin a flight that will end in Turkey. Along with great chapters of mystery, awaiting me in Istanbul will be my very own breathtaking girl. The thought of seeing her for the first time in months conjures only images, no words.

Yesterday Hud and I drank the city’s best coffee under blue skies. A musician casually plucked a Django Reinhardt tune. My sister called to wish me a happy trip. Kids and dogs and cars went by. The surrounding particles arranged to give me a clear view of the trail already walked, and a bright light on what awaits.

H&G: THE BIG 2-3

2008-04-10T22:03:00.000-07:00

The media barons of WBFK are back! Near-defunct social-networking sites ... a drunken radio producer ... fantasy role-playing games ... small-town fear of the unknown ... a very special Shakerbrau spot ... Jeffrey "The Starchild" Starmichael ... Saladtron ... swords and maces ... a Hudsonian attack on dorkism ... geek jambaroos ...

hudsonandgaines.com

Or search "Hudson & Gaines" on your very own iTunes machine!

When Bad Coffee Happens to Good People Who Love Great Coffee

2008-04-09T09:25:00.000-07:00

If you're like me, and you subscribe to the Los Angeles Times and live in Los Feliz, you were subject to a marketing assault by Starbucks yesterday. That is, if you consider a billboard across the street and a card for a free cuppa Joe included in your morning paper a marketing assault. And I do. The subject of this awareness attack was the 'Buck's new brew, Pike Place Roast. As the advertisement notes, it's the coffee for people who love coffee.

I love coffee, so I figured I'd try a free cup of black gold designed especially for me. Card in hand, I walked down to the neighborhood shop and obtained a "tall" order of this Pike Place Roast. After a few sips, I thought I had made up my mind. But I downed a good three-quarters of the stuff before making my pronouncement:

It's terrible.

Pike Place Roast has overpowering notes of chemical and Styrofoam. It lacks the rich complexity good java is known for. It in fact lacks any complexity. It leaves a wet, bland, vaguely burned aftertaste. It smells like the coffee you'd get in a diner or at a banquet, but withholds the contextual charm: I'll gladly drink a bad cup of coffee with a good slice of pie in a bustling restaurant. But none of that is present with Pike Place Roast. It's just bad (expensive) coffee, on the go.

That said, I encourage you to get a free cup of your own. Tell Rocket Fever if you agree with this review. And while you're at the 'Buck, dig the new old naughty-mermaid logo. Cross your tails, you hussy!

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In less than a week, I'll be flying to Istanbul. That is, if the plane actually gets off the ground. How perfect that I'm planning the trip of a lifetime just as the global airline industry is in full meltdown. Oy.

RF Roll Call

2008-04-03T20:24:00.000-07:00

Dad wasn't the only notable guest in town lately. The First Family of Greenville, Mich., the Steve Davises were present, along with the Sultans of Saginaw, Bill and Diane Baird.

Steve and Erin were in town to serve as Maggie June's godparents at the baptism and, I guess, henceforth. No word on if this makes Annie and Will Davis godsiblings. What I do know is that Will is tough enough to bounce back from a spill on stone pavers one day and a high-speed inflated ball to the head the next, and that Annie kinda sorta likes animals. But just a little bit.

And there honestly are no two better folks on this planet than the Bairds. Bill is always good for talking sports and other manly topics, and Diane wears the name “Grandma” as gracefully as she wore that smashing blouse the day of the baptism. And they both are crazy about their granddaughter.

This post can’t end without special mention of Sparrow Hospital’s Employee of the Year, Oscar Dan Mazariegos, another Greenvillian in for the weekend. Dan hit the road for a drive up the West Coast right after the baptism, but it was still good to see him for a couple days.

Steve, sporting the ’stache, and Erin, loving every bit of it

Grandma Baird, finishing one of the best cakes I’ve had in ages

Bill, showing off his new appreciation for Jamaican beer

March Dad-ness

2008-04-01T17:22:00.000-07:00

I have now had two consecutive perfect parental visits. After Ma's bravura performance last month, Dad came in and knocked it out of the park. Pop said he wanted to eat tons of good food on this trip, and I think we accomplished that: Best Fish Tacos in Ensenada, Vermont, Farfalla pizza, Thai food, Neptune's Net, Allegria, Grandma Baird's cheesy potatoes, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

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On Wednesday, as we were about to begin our perfect drive up to Ventura County, an elderly lady with a flower in her hair knocked on the passenger's side window as we sat at the stop light at Hillhurst and Franklin. "Are you going straight?" she asked. I was about to inform the nosy frau that the gentleman sitting next to me was only my father when I realized she was referring to the direction of our travels. "Uh, yeah," I said. "Could you give me ride, at least up to Vermont?" she said.

I thought about it for about three seconds, which is all the time one needs to decide whether it's advisable to allow a strange woman into one's car in the middle of Los Angeles, when I said, "Hop on in!" She did, just as the light turned green. I asked her where she was going, and she said she was catching a bus in Hollywood, so I agreed to drive her up to Highland, since this is where we were heading anyway.

Now, I hold the opinion that if someone invites herself into my car, many of the normal rules of civil conversation fail to apply. So for five minutes I peppered this sweet woman with question after question about her life. Pop mostly looked out the window, quietly mortified at what his firstborn had wrought. Here's what I learned:

She was heading to an Armenian church near Universal Studios to see about selling some paintings either by her mother or once owned by her mother. She moved to New York from her native Lebanon in the mid-1960s and then to L.A. in the 1980s after her business was robbed. She has no one anymore, except for her church, her city, and her God. Every morning when she wakes up, she has a new perspective on life. There's nothing that she doesn't feel in her skin. When I told her that I let her into the car because she seemed trustworthy, she said it was evidence of a strong spiritual force inside of me. She wishes Dad were her dad; she misses her father very much. She has a strong handshake. She didn't steal anything out of the back of the car.

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Dad and I are avid fans of synchronicity, so we had a good laugh when we heard Chris Webber was retiring. We were at the NBA draft on the day Orlando selected Webber and then immediately traded him to Golden State for Penny Hardaway. Fitting that the Gaines boys were together again when news of Timeout's departure from the game hit.

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The rest of Pop's visit was anchored by the basketball tournament, which was largely disappointing save for that wonderful Davidson-Kansas game. We banged around Hollywood one day, helping his co-worker's son with a homework assignment, which had us taking pictures of a paper doll of the kid next to landmarks. Another day, we returned to the Museum of Jurassic Technology in Culver City, which we had visited two years ago but had to leave early because we had Dodgers tickets. If you've never been to the museum, you must go, and make yourself sit through the entire presentation on Geoffrey Sonnabend's Obliscence: Theories of Forgetting and the Problem of Matter.

The last day was a first for the both of us: We attended Margaret June Hudson's baptism. Maggie performed like a champ among a group of about 10 babes on the first baptism held at the immense Our Lady of Angels Cathedral in downtown L.A.

Afterward, we partied down at the Hudson compound in Glendale, snacking on ham rolls, meat balls, cheesy potatoes, cake, and fruit salad, all lovingly prepared by Diane Baird (and don't forget the barbecue chicken served up by Red Stripe beer's newest fan, Bill Baird). After we said our goodbyes, Dad and I headed back to room 309 of the Best Western Hollywood Hills, where we finished the trip by eating peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and watching basketball highlights.

One Pop-ular Guy

2008-03-31T21:43:00.001-07:00

IMG_0128
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

Just got done spending a week with the old man. We had a great time. A full report will come soon. Thanks for coming out, Dad. I'll see you and Pearl Bailey on the lanai.

The Mustache Is Back in Town

2008-03-26T07:36:00.000-07:00

Dad Gaines is here for a visit. Yesterday we hit up Best Fish Tacos in Ensenada, browsed at Skylight Books, watched a couple episodes of The Office, and ate a stupendous meal at Vermont, where I introduced him to burrata. Today we’re motoring up to Neptune’s Net for piles of fried and steamed seafood by the ocean and then having some kids over for drinks tonight. After that? All basketball, all the time ...

Sign of the Times

2008-03-23T08:21:00.001-07:00

Sign of the Times
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

I'm sure this ad on the front of the LAT was greeted with good cheer by millions of Angelenos this Sunday morning.

Read Joe Rexrode, Redux

2008-03-20T08:20:00.000-07:00

Joey Ballgame is back writing for Yahoo during the Tournament!

The Internet in Turkey

2008-03-19T13:59:00.000-07:00

Karis has found that more than a few Web sites aren't accessible in Turkey. Ever wonder what government censorship looks like? Check it:

SXSW Recap

2008-03-19T13:56:00.000-07:00

Chad Swiatecki saw every band in the known universe last weekend in Austin. His impressive list, with exclamation points denoting awesomer shows:

The Headlights
Bowerbirds
Shapes Have Fangs
Phil and the Ospers
Call Me Lightning (!)
Fatal Flying Guilloteens (!)
The Mae Shi (!)
Sons & Daughters
The Grand Archive
The Pity Party
The Raveonettes (three times)
Great Lakes Myth Society (!)
The Hard Lessons (three times) (!)
Vivian Girls
The Heavy
Samulnori drummers
Fucked Up (!)
Jay Reatard
Dark Meat (!)
Portugal The Man
Ben Jelen
The Whigs
Vampire Weekend
X
Crystal Castles
Does It Offend You, Yeah?
Flosstradamus (!)
The Cool Kids (!)
A-Trak (!)
Kid Sister (!)
Chromeo (!)
John Doe
Duffy (!)
Okkervil River (!)
Justin Townes Earle (!)
B.o.B.
DJ Eleven
Nassau
Wale
GZA

Happy New Norooz!

2008-03-18T14:55:00.000-07:00

The fantastic Nazanin Arandi sent out this image she created wishing all of us a Happy Persian New Year. Let's make this a peaceful and prosperous 1387!

Mo Pete!

2008-03-18T12:06:00.000-07:00

Courtesy Joe Block

Past Recommendations

2008-03-18T09:30:00.000-07:00

There Will Be Blood

2008-03-17T10:15:00.001-07:00

Pat Muir has a strong piece on backyard fight clubs in last weekend's Yakima Herald Republic. Pat, a long-time appreciator of the friendly brawl, leads off the story with this:

The thing that stands out is the blood.
It's not the friendly banter between Vengeance and Nasty Rob as they exchange blows. It's not the assorted characters cheering the fight, although little Ricky with the mohawk is probably worth his own story. It's not the thud, the deep, hollow sound of 450 pounds of two bodies hitting a dead lawn.
It's the blood, pouring down Nasty Rob's face and clogging his nose. Blood dripping onto the grass and the walkway. Blood stifling his breath to the point where he has to quit. That's what everyone is here for. That's why people will watch this fight when it's posted on YouTube.
It's the blood.

The piece continues with quotes from some experts trying to explain why in God's name anyone would take up such a habit, and some beautiful narrative by Pat detailing the day's fight. Well worth your time.

Story here and audio/video here.

YouTube clips here (with Pat in the background). Warning: very violent.

Pamela Rasmussen: the Oracle of Ornithology

2008-03-16T09:58:00.000-07:00

Trey Rogers now faces stiff competition for biggest star on the Michigan State faculty. The Lawn Geek, renowned for his turf-care prowess, has long been my most beloved MSU expert. But he might have to share that top spot with Dr. Pamela Rasmussen, the Oracle of Ornithology.

Dr. Rasmussen was featured in a New Yorker piece in 2006 for revealing famed birdist Col. Richard Meinertzhagen to be the biggest fraud in all of ornithology, if not taxonomy. The Oracle of O proved that the Bad Colonel stole thousands of bird specimens from the British Museum and claimed them as his own, which in the bird world is, like, really the wrong thing to do.

But Powerful Pamela hasn't rested on her laurels since then. The Lansing State Journal today reports that she has discovered a new bird species in Indonesia, called the Togian white-eye (although I'd have named it the ruffled Rasmussen, or the peaked Pamela). The craziest thing about it is that, while we're all going nuts over the discovery, this is old hat to the Oracle of O: It's her sixth discovery! Cock-a-doodle-doo!

New-Economy Day Laborers

2008-03-11T07:54:00.000-07:00

Check out my latest story on The City Desk, written in conjunction with Ilya Perchikovsky of New York, New York.

Good Monday Read

2008-03-10T12:37:00.000-07:00

Garfield Minus Garfield, link courtesy of Pat Muir.

90 Percent Back at 100 Percent

2008-03-08T11:15:00.000-08:00

Mike “Mike” Hudson has been burning up the base paths on our baseball blog, 90% Mental. He’s installed something called a tag cloud and thrown up a poll, and is providing near daily spring training reports, aided by his trusty TiVo. This will be a historic baseball season, folks, coming after the Long Clemens Winter and featuring the best lineup in Detroit Tigers history. Time to start paying attention.

(Hey! Are you a fan of the pastime and live in one of baseball’s key markets? Wanna join the blog? E-mail us at rocketfever@gmail.com.)

Turkey and the White People Blog

2008-03-07T06:55:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I e-mailed Karis in Istanbul a post from the new sensation in the blog world, Stuff White People Like. She e-mailed me back today that when she tried to read it, a screen came up telling her it was “restricted by court order.”

True freedom won’t exist until all people — Americans, Turks, and everyone else — are free to make fun of white people. Let the revolution begin.

Two Men and a Truck YouTube Contest

2008-03-06T10:43:00.000-08:00

TWO MEN AND A TRUCK, the successful mid-Michigan moving franchise that was intelligent enough to hire Katie Rexrode as its media relations and communications manager a few years ago, is hosting a YouTube contest to see who can come up with the best ways to reuse TWO MEN's boxes. Rocket Fever unofficially recommends:

Using them to fill Michigan's potholes
Taping them together to make a hang glider for a James Bond-inspired escape from the top of the Michigan National tower
Cutting them into millions of round pieces, coloring them gold, and pouring them into a vault so that I may swim about them a la Scrooge McDuck

Check out TWO MEN's main YouTube page, and peep the hip-hop-flavored submission below.

Los Feliz Pub Crawl II: This Time, It’s Personal

2008-03-03T20:37:00.000-08:00

Image courtesy WalkJogRun.net.

NOTE TO READERS: I make no claims as to the veracity of any of the facts contained within this blog post. If we were to graph my inebriation during the evening, and then overlay that with a graph of important/blog-worthy moments, the lines would follow the same upward path. Except that at about 2:30 a.m., the important events would tail off and my inebriation would hit a steady plateau for the next few hours. In summation, reader beware.

Los Feliz Pub Crawl Winter 2008 began badly, which is to say exactly as it should. When Matt Fleischer, my former L.A. Weekly colleague and eternal pub crawl co-conspirator, and I showed up at the Tiki-Ti at 4 p.m. and saw that it wouldn’t open till 6, we knew everything was going to be all right. But first we needed a bar, and fast. We were shut out at Akbar, so we turned back up Sunset to El Chavo, which looked even less promising than the Tiki: Portions of its exterior was ripped away because of ongoing renovation, and all three doors to the building seemed either locked or strictly ornamental. But then I did what any pub crawl organizer desperate for a launch bar would do: I knocked on a door. After a tense moment, a smiling, mustachioed waiter opened the door, and LFPC II was officially under way.

I ordered a Jameson’s on the rocks, duh, and Matt ordered a margarita and the ceremonial beef tongue. He noted that during LFPC I he ordered it with the mole; this time he went with the Spanish sauce. Fleischer persuaded me to take a taste, and I instantly remembered my bite from last time. This was the second time in my life I had chewed on something with taste buds. Just as I was complimenting Matt on his African T-shirt, replete with an antelope and pockets, Katie Byrne walked in with half a dozen Michiganders. I refuse to even attempt to remember any of their names, but will venture to say they were all welcome additions to the crawl. They also win special recognition for being the first kids to the party, a distinction won last year by Kat Berger and Andrea Bricco (who were prevented, sadly, from imbibing this time by Milwaukee and the flu, respectively).

After a second whiskey and some conversational catchup with Katie, Matt the crawlmeister announced it was time for the first crawl. Since our route was thrown off from the get-go by our Tiki-Ti miscalculation, we boldly decided to head up to the Dresden Room. While going to the Dresden at 5:30 might seem odd, we figured it was the only time on a Saturday when a large group could get into Los Feliz’s most crowded bar. After I assured one of my new Michigan friends that it wouldn't be feminine to order a Stella, I started work on the Tom Collins that Matt recommended to me. It was fizzy and ginny, and most assuredly feminine. I loved it.

The party started to warm up at the Dresden with the additions of Ryan Colditz, two of his friends, and Matt’s friend Margaret, who is from Maine and has an accent that suggests she was born stateside but has lived abroad extensively. Then, just as I was getting comfortable, Matt called for a crawl: We were heading for Ye Rustic Inn. (A note about Ye Rustic: During my first months in Los Angeles, the Rustic served as my personal mental-health clinic. My damaged psyche was rehabilitated by hundreds of dollars of Miller Lite, sultry bar maidens, Dire Straits’ “Sultans of Swing,” Myrtle Burgers, the Hudsons, and Irish car bombs. It is an old friend, and I love it dearly.)

The previous pub crawl kicked into high gear at the Rustic, and the same was true on Saturday. Matt and I downed Irish car bombs and then listened to one of the Rustic-ettes passionately explain what Steelers football means to Pittsburgh (this wasn’t the first football conversation I’ve had with the YR staff). Long story short, the logo is really important. If you want to find her and ask the girl yourself, just stick your head in the door and yell “Go Browns!” The raven-haired woman who decks you will tell you the rest of the details.

After getting our NFL history for the evening, Matt and I, insufficiently bombed, downed two quick Jaeger bombs with some of the other pub crawlers. Or did we have one of the Jaeger bombs earlier? Ah, my friends. Here we go: This is the point in the story where things get much more fuzzy and exciting. After all the bombing, there was conversation at various tables and then, under the cover of night, we slipped out of the Rustic and across the street to the Drawing Room, the finest neighborhood bar in Los Feliz.

I believe this is where I had my last Jameson’s for the evening. This is also where Chris Sapardanis, neighbors Abby and Andy, and I think new friend Diliana showed up. Diliana deserves special recognition: She found the Facebook page I threw together for the crawl, RSVP’ed, and showed up. All on her own. And instantly became part of the group and a total trooper. Look! Social networking is a success! Huzzah! Other Drawing Room add-ons included Weekly intern Erika and a friend of hers. (Not to mention that one of the Michigan guys chatted up Sarah Silverman’s sister and Mr. Show’s Jay Johnston. It also needs to be put on the record that, while I wouldn’t be able to remember this guy’s name if you were shoving bamboo shoots under my nails, I do remember that he studies fire science at Lake Superior State University, located in one of the coldest, snowiest cities in these United States. Fire and ice indeed.)

Just as I was settling in to a red-vinyl seat at the DR, that bastard Fleischer announced it was time to crawl again. So we broke camp and formed a drunken, drunken caravan down Hillhurst Avenue, careening to a happy halt at the beautifully named (and similarly red-vinyl-and-Chinese-dragon-themed) Good Luck Bar. Now at this point, honestly, do any of you expect me to have any sharp memories? I’m pretty sure I ordered a Miller Lite — or was it a Red Stripe? — and that I babbled for quite a while to Abby and Andy about God knows what.

Drink, sit, talk, crawl! Back out into the L.A. evening we went, farther south down Hillhurst and then a speculative turn east onto Sunset. But our frontal assault on the now-open Tiki-Ti was rebuffed immediately: The Tiki, just barely bigger than my studio apartment, was predictably packed to the palm fronds. Which called for bold measures, calculated risk, manly leaps into the dark unknown: We headed for Cheetah’s. This would be my third time in an adult-themed establishment, and it was by far the most fun. Cheetah’s is way less scuzzy than I anticipated. The staff was friendly, and the air was pleasantly free of desperation and sadness. Then again, my image of the joint might be colored by the fact that this is where my boon pal Alice Johnson and her Chilean dude Sebastian showed up (and I shouldn’t forget to mention Abby and Andy’s two friends, although I will proudly forget their names). So here we sat for a while, drinking beers, puzzling over the presence of a Phil Collins song, applauding one lady’s yogic headstand.

Like a confident football team holding up four fingers at the start of the last quarter, the Los Feliz Pub Crawl crew daringly tore down Hollywood Boulevard toward our last stop of the evening: The Stone, whose Web site declares it neither gay nor straight but fun, and I’d have to agree. Our glorious night ended soaked in Thai beer, narrated by Sebastian’s distinctions between Argentines and Chileans, and celebrated with manic dancing to a stomping country duo. Alice, Sebastian and I shared a cab ride back to the neighborhood, where we downed one last drink and a bowlful of almonds and pistachios at the Gaines pad. (And the evening went from perfect to golden when I got a cross-continental call from Karis, who had just taken a jog and laughed her head off at my sloppy diction.)

So that, fellow sinners, is how you do a pub crawl: 2.19 miles of movable, drinkable revelry. I don’t mind saying that Matt and I are two for two so far on these suckers, and we’re now emboldened even more to continue these events on a roughly seasonal basis. I’ve already fielded a suggestion for another crawl in July, and I’m wide open that month. Here’s to friends and Los Feliz!

(Photos to follow soon. If anyone else took pix, please lemme know.)

Congratulations to Everyone!

2008-03-03T10:06:00.001-08:00

Very cool things have been happening to some very cool friends lately:

Jon Brunt and Adrian Rogers are getting married! Is The State News a wedding factory or what?
Micah Muzio is now an FAA-approved helicopter pilot! I hope to be bringing you a detailed post on a chopper ride with the Air Wolf himself in the not-too-distant future.
Amy Bevevino and Shane O'Dell are having a baby! Here's to hoping the child will be adorable, but maybe not so adorable that Amy will want to bite it.

Huzzahs to my great friends!

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Look to this digital space soon for a full report on Los Feliz Pub Crawl Winter 2008, which was a smashing, and smashed, success.

How Can This Be?

2008-02-27T10:30:00.001-08:00

How is it that Becky Amos and Mary Sell came to town and I have no photographic evidence? This is an unacceptable oversight, one that demands swift action by Rocket Fever. I call on the Rocket Fever Board of Governors to immediately convene an investigation into this lapse, ferret out the guilty parties, and create an action plan to ensure this never happens again.

But, honest, they were here. And it was a great time. The Huds were heroic enough to provide the girls with room and board, which is good, because it would've been weird to have them sleep on my hardwood floor. Highlights of the visit included:

Everyone realizing at the last minute that Becky was coming in from New York to Burbank, and Mary was coming in from Mississippi to LAX. I'm still confused how everyone ended up safely in Glendale, but there you go.
Staying up till 4 a.m. at the Hudson house, telling tales, debating the relative attractiveness of long-gone Real World characters, and laughing our keesters off.
Walking around Silver Lake with Amos and Ward, discovering the Army surplus store, and driving to within spitting distance of the Hollywood sign. Good job on that, Ward!
Watching the Oscars at the Glarum household. I would have taken the entire pot if I hadn't stupidly picked Lars and the Real Girl for best original screenplay. Instead, I ended up in a five-way tie for first.
Macking on some rad risotto at Farfalla, and then clapping madly along with Maggie June at the House of Warandi.

From what I hear, the girls are back safe and sound in their respective homes -- far, far away from the burning skies of rainy Los Angeles. Great times, old friends! Huzzah!

Mother's Days

2008-02-25T10:26:00.001-08:00

Ma was in town for a few days last week after a visit with her sisters in Phoenix. The cold, dark, rainy weather didn't at all reflect the cheery warmth Mrs. Kirby engendered with her visit. I'd have to say the best part was her first night in town, when we cooked up steaks we bought (OK, she bought) at the Farmer's Market along with garlic mashed potatoes and a killer salad. That meal combined with great mother-son conversation and otherworldly gelato from down the street (Hollywood Gelato: back on the list?) made for a night I'll remember for a long time.

Other highlights included Ma spotting Oscar nominee Casey Affleck at Tropicalia, visiting with the Huds, strolling around Old Town Pasadena, dinner at Farfalla, taking in the new wing of the Los Angeles County Museum of Art, shopping at the Beverly Center, and dinner with the Muzios and Warandi at Gardens of Taxco. What a famous time!

I hope you and Joe can make it out here again before too long, Ma. We'll have better weather for you next time. Promise!

Some photos.

The Birthday Hits Keep Coming

2008-02-20T10:06:00.000-08:00

Happy Birthday to my oldest homeboy, Ryan Ahrens. Ryan and I go back more than 25 years, and we're both permanently blown away that two kids from the old neighborhood in Lansing are rocking it in SoCal.

Enjoy the day, brother. Look for a package of tennis ball-size jawbreakers from Fabiano's in the mail.

Muir Turns Profit

2008-02-17T23:42:00.001-08:00

That's not all Pat Muir turned on Sunday: The old sea dog also turned 30! Pat, now that the hideous march of time has revealed itself to you, always remember this photo, which I've had a team of models, photographers, lighting experts, and designers working on since you turned 29. I don't think I need to explain the symbolism of the image, but I will say this: When you get the invoice for the photo, please make payment within 60 days or face a 5% penalty for each week thereafter. Happy birthday, buddy!

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Maggie June enjoyed herself to bits during her first time at the beach on Saturday. All indications were that Mike, Grandma Hudson, and solid New Yorker-Michigander Tom had almost as much fun. And who wouldn't? Beautiful kid, perfect weather, sand, surf, Neptune's? Honestly.

Chinese New Year Parade

2008-02-11T22:09:00.000-08:00

It was a beautiful day for a parade on Saturday. Luckily for L.A., it was Chinese New Year. Check out the photo set.

Speaking of Birthdays ...

2008-02-10T20:31:00.001-08:00

We celebrated Evan Glarum's No. 8 at a roller-skating rink in Glendale this afternoon. This was a typical blowout of fun and mayhem for Evan and his huge gang of friends. Pizza, popcorn (which Evan's bro Willie attacked with gusto), cake, ice cream, and lotsa skating. As the second photo will attest, I'm not exactly Elvis Stojko out there on the wheels. Evan, on the other hand, was zipping around like the jet on his awesome T-shirt. Happy Birthday, Evan!

Rocket Fever Is 3, Which Means Hayley Is 26

2008-02-09T17:25:00.000-08:00

As Becky so graciously pointed out in her comment on yesterday's post, February 9 is a big day at Rocket Fever. Three years ago today I launched this blog as I was packing up my old Cleveland apartment and getting ready for ... I had no clue. As I sit here on a gorgeous late afternoon in Los Angeles, I can say with assurance that the Rocket Fever era has been the most exciting of my life. As always, I'd like to thank my readers in SoCal, Michigan, Northeast Ohio, the Pacific Northwest, New York, ancient Nippon, the Deep South, and, these days, Istanbul. This thing would just be an echo chamber without ya.

And if it's Rocket Fever's birthday, it's also Sister's birthday. Word from the Mitten is that the family went for some culture and vegetarian food in Ann Arbor. Here's hoping the birthday girl and everyone else enjoyed themselves. Huzzah for Hay-Hay!

First birthday
Second birthday

2008-02-08T08:46:00.000-08:00

Right after you send an e-mail or a chat line, you catch a misspelling. Before the recipient can call you on it, you fire off a correction. What should we call this instantaneous electronic spelling adjustment?

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AND: Biofuels ain't all they're cracked up to be.

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OH, JEEZ, AND: The LAT has a nice take on Los Feliz's own Alcove Cafe & Bakery.

Lunch with the Dodgers

2008-02-07T18:02:00.001-08:00

You never turn down a free lunch, and you never ever turn down a free lunch with the Dodgers. I followed that bit of advice today when a spot opened at an event for Dodgers group-ticket buyers. Hud was stuck in Chicago because of all the snow, so I took his spot and got a tour of Dodger Stadium, lunch with Ms. Alethia Calagias (who hooked me up with the gig), and some good jokes from Hall of Famer Tommy Lasorda.

I can't decide if visiting the press box, with a fantastic view of the field, or going on the field itself was the coolest part of the tour. OK, who am I kidding? Being in the Dodgers' dugout, and visualizing what the players standing at the railing see during a late-innings rally, was awesome. And putting my hand on the crew-cut-length turf is something I've always wanted to do. (Y'all probably didn't know this about old Gainesy, but after I was accepted to Michigan State I toyed with the idea of being an agronomy major for five minutes before remembering how awful I am at science. MSU turf guru Trey Rogers is one of my heroes.)

But the real highlight of the day, aside from two ketchup-drenched Dodger Dogs, was hearing the old manager tell some stories. The man has given a speech or two in his day, and his anecdotes are as well polished as his shoes, but much funnier. Two of the good ones:

A seven-game losing streak prompted Tommy to tell his players that even the great 1927 Yankees lost nine in a row. After the team ripped off 10 straight wins, his wife asked him, "How did you know the Yankees lost nine in a row that year?" He said, "How da hell do I know? I was born that year, I just made it up!"
Before a big road series in Cincinnati, Lasorda went to Mass for some extra help. At the service, he spotted the Reds' manager. As everyone was filing out, the manager (not sure of the time frame, so I don't know if it was Sparky) told him to wait outside so they could chat. Tommy watched as the skipper went to the vestibule and lit a candle. Lasorda then sneaked back into the church and blew out the candle. Result? Dodgers win!

But Tommy was at his best, not surprisingly, when he gave his stump speech for the Dodgers. It was a beaut. I paraphrase: "When you hear 'Dodgers,' you automatically think baseball. Someone tells you he's a Padre, you say, 'Good for you, Father.' Someone tells you he's an Indian, you say, 'What reservation do you live on?' Someone tells you he's a Cardinal, you say, 'Work hard, you might make Pope.' But when someone tells you he's a Dodger, you know it's about baseball!" I got a few chills with a side of goosebumps, no matter how apparent it was he's given this rally cry a million times. Go Dodgers!

(And thanks a million to Alethia for getting me the seat!)

Photos here.

The Madness of Joe Rexrode

2008-02-06T12:18:00.000-08:00

After the MSU-Penn State game on Saturday, State fans were pretty ticked at the refs for supposedly calling too many fouls on the Spartans. Journal beat writer and Rocket Fever boon pal Joe Rexrode, not satisfied with a cursory review, rewatched the game tape and detailed every single foul call, as well as some calls that he thought the refs missed. His analysis has been getting love and hate from the readers, none of whom are as meticulous students of the game as Joe.

How in the hell long did that take, Joe?

Check out the saga at Joe's blog, Hey Joe.

Major Sting on Hillhurst!

2008-02-06T09:45:00.000-08:00

Go get 'em, Smokey!

Cop cars and choppers are pulling over speeders up and down Hillhurst today. They've probably spanked about a dozen drivers already this morning. And it's about time. People treat this road like the Autobahn. Here's to hoping the cop presence slows things down, at least for a while.

From The City Desk

2008-02-05T10:36:00.000-08:00

That old Gaines creative soup is starting to bubble now, boy. Indulge me by checking out my latest at The City Desk, concerning the implosion of a company pegging its hopes on a doomed Facebook application. Thanks, as always, to R.J. White for running my jokes and editing a great site.

Super Duper

2008-02-04T20:04:00.000-08:00

Glendale was the place to be for the Super Bowl on Sunday ... the other Glendale, that is!

OK, now that that's out of the way: Becky Hudson did a fantastic job putting together a party befitting one of the greatest sporting events ever. Food, drinks, TV, couches, dips, chafing dishes, wearable ring toss games, football-themed table cloths/napkins/plates, babies, cheering, laughter, drama ... I'd have to call the party perfect. Which we can't say about the Patriots, huh? Huh? Right?

The all-star cast included the Glarums, the Deuce, Alethia (about whom more in a bit), the Muzios, Ward, Frankie O ...

Michael "C." Hudson was sorely missed, but we're glad he got to link up with his Pop and brother in Chicago.

To the pictures!

These were my main contribution to the gig, and Becky even prepped them for me.

Excellent shot by Evan Glarum

I always have this dopey look on my face when I'm around cute girls.

For some reason, the whole gang took advantage of throwing things at Evan. Can't imagine why.

Doesn't this couple look so natural with a baby?

Maybe not.

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Remember I had some news about Alethia? Here 'tis:

SHE'S GETTING MARRIED!

The lucky SOB is the thoroughly Rocket Fever-approved Austin Knoblauch, who is doing his honorable best to clean up after his older cousin Chuck*. Everyone at RF is gee-whiz thrilled for this alliterative pair. Let's all celebrate at Porto's! Potato balls for everyone! Huzzah!

*This is a lame baseball joke, and pure fiction.

Is Nothing Sacred? Or, An Ominous Turn of Events

2008-02-02T15:46:00.000-08:00

In Michigan the blinking red is going the way of AutoWorld.

The Associated Press reports that the state will phase out all blinking red traffic lights in left-turn lanes. The feds are forcing the state to do it in the name of public safety. Seems a bunch of studies say the blinking reds are unsafe.

If you talk to any Michigander who's relocated to another part of the country, he'll inevitably tell you that one of the things he misses most about the Mitten is the blinking red. Expat Michigan drivers are mildly offended that their traffic signals don't trust them to make a left-hand turn when there's no oncoming traffic. Michigan drivers also drive at a baseline speed of 80 on the highways, which kind of terrifies me now.

But I always liked the blinking reds. It gave me a sense of independence as a motorist. The blinking red said to me, "Go ahead, Craig. I think you have enough of a brain to turn left at an appropriate and safe traffic juncture." When I was younger and driving outside the state, I always thought I happened to be in one of the few, peculiar areas to not have the blinking red. After I realized it was something unique to Michigan (and Delaware, it turns out), I added this to my list of complaints about whatever driving culture I was in — e.g. Ohio drivers have no clue what the left lane is for, and California drivers consider stop signs to be merely octagonal pieces of public art.

Makes you wonder what other aspects of Michigania will end up as nothing but old folks' memories by the time Maggie J. Hud is old enough to spend a summer back on the peninsula: Michigan lefts? Black flies? MSU football futility? Detroit?

So get your left turns in the way God and Governor Milliken intended them before the G Men come to town. And pick me up some Bar-Scheeze while you're at it.

Maggs: Method Actress

2008-01-29T20:13:00.000-08:00

"Gripping...startling...four stars!"

Good Read

2008-01-29T13:02:00.001-08:00

When I quit the Weekly, my co-worker and friend Falling James made me an excellent Detroit mix CD. My favorite band on the mix (which is strong from top to bottom) is the Paybacks, offering rock that's as straight and powerful as a bullet's path. I am, therefore, officially psyched that the band's leader, Wendy Case, has a finely written blog. I stumbled upon it today, and have enjoyed her takes on Amy Winehouse, Christopher Columbus, old record labels, and new writers. It's the first blog I've been excited about in quite a while.

Check 'er out!

Photo courtesy Wendy Case and her rad blog

Now This Is How You Start a Week

2008-01-27T22:06:00.000-08:00

Check your iTunes, kiddies. You'll find a gift from the boys at Hudson & Gaines: Episode 22!

A shocking public-private controversy has paralyzed Great Haven. How will the media elite handle the biggest story of 2007? An intriguing look back.

The News as We Know It

2008-01-27T18:42:00.000-08:00

I had the good fortune to talk to Karis*, the Official Archaeologist of Rocket Fever, this weekend. She's doing real live archaeological work in Sudan, which requires her to live in a traditional Nubian village on an island in the middle of the Nile River near the Egyptian border. This was my first conversation with her in weeks, because she is, for the most part, cut off from the rest of the world.

So you can imagine my bafflement when, in the middle of the conversation, she said, "Oh, and I heard about Heath Ledger ..."

My friends, the free flow of information will not be stopped.

*She's doing really well, by the way, and says hi to everyone.

Perspective

2008-01-23T22:24:00.001-08:00

DSCN4119
Originally uploaded by cbg_rocketfever

This photo of the Amazing Gaineses and Their Incredibly Small Dad is taken to scale.

By Requesties: The Maggster

2008-01-22T22:48:00.001-08:00

Approaching 7 Months!

Not Technically Belated

2008-01-21T20:47:00.001-08:00

Happy Birthday, Katie Rexrode!!!

Get Legal on the Phone!

2008-01-20T20:54:00.001-08:00

Space.com is gonna pay. Finally, I'll be able to stick it to that creep Lou Dobbs.

(Thanks to Becky H. for the link.)

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Naz and Ryan (visiting from Heaven as you can see in the photo) spend some quality time with Maggie June at Larkins in Eagle Rock. Hey, Ma, when you come out here next month I'm totally gonna take you to this joint, an excellent Southern-tinged brunch spot with impossibly good hot links and French toast. And pancakes. And grits. And veggie sausage. And I'd bet the oatmeal is great too.

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The Giants-Packers game just about restored my faith in football this weekend. It was played in tough conditions, it meant something, it wasn't plagued by penalties (for the most part), there weren't lots of dumb turnovers (okay, there was one dumb turnover, but at least it was dramatic), and there were no annoying story lines involving Jessica Simpson. I think I'll actually care a bit about the Super Bowl now.

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Persepolis is funny, sad, cute, tragic, engrossing, beautiful. Go see it.

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Rena Kosnett, the Whirlwind of West Hollywood, has a blog. Go read it.

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Naz and Ryan provide various artistic services. Go patronize them.

Gaines Power

2008-01-17T12:24:00.001-08:00

By Ryan Ward, MFA

Spooky

2008-01-16T08:46:00.000-08:00

When I started work around 7 this morning, I could see clear up to Griffith Observatory no problem. Half an hour later, it looked like this:

Grand River Madness!

2008-01-15T11:30:00.000-08:00

I don't know the first dang thing about architecture, but I did have one solid hope for MSU's Eli and Edythe Broad Art Museum to be built along Grand River Avenue in East Lansing: that it be shockingly different from anything else in mid-Michigan. And it looks like that's going to happen. Zaha Hadid's winning design reminds me of a silver Lamborghini. If you take the video "fly through" on the Web site, you'll see lots of airy space and naturally lit rooms (although I'd guess there will also be some artificial light for those cloudy days that hit Michigan every so often).

There's already some stick-in-the-mud commenting on the State Journal story that he could have designed something better that Hadid did. It's exactly this sort of hostile attitude I hope the museum and its contents combat when it's finally built. In fact, I hope it sparks a regionwide debate about art and design, modernism and tradition. I want people to be shocked by this: shocked at the initial design, shocked at the finished product, shocked into loving or hating it. The worst thing that could happen is for the museum to be met with indifference.

So who wants to fight me? I say the building is beautiful, strange, spacey, sneaky, and -- happy-happy-joy-joy! -- not conforming to its surroundings. Viva la strange!

Go Green! (And white, red, silver, purple, brown, gray, mauve, goldenrod, orange, black, opalescent, neon green, strawberry pink ...)

Pat Muir Takes Issue with My Soy Hot Dog

2008-01-15T08:12:00.000-08:00

Excerpt from an e-mail:

I'll give you a pass on the ketchup, because I don't think it's the ketchup that's the problem. Seriously, Gaines? A soy corn dog? Dude, I understand soy. I like soy. And I even sometimes like weirdo West Coast cuisine. But a soy corn dog? A soy corn dog? That's like saying I'm eating a tall short, or a hot cold. I'm eating vegetarian meat. I'm Craig Gaines, and I'm an a**h*le.

On the plus side, you've got to be the first person to ever drive a PT Cruiser and eat a soy corn dog. So congrats.

Regards,
Muir

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Speaking of Pat, check out his reportage on the day-night lives of Yakima, Washington's "rock stars."

Not Cool

2008-01-13T10:00:00.000-08:00

Since moving to my current apartment at Hillhurst and Finley in Los Feliz, I've seen at least three major car accidents (one involving a flipped car), and dozens of near misses. People drive way too fast on Hillhurst, and take way too many chances trying to cross from Finley. Which is why I wanted to run down just a minute ago and smack the woman who was walking across Hillhurst ... not at the crosswalk ... with her young son ... pushing a stroller ... while talking on a cell phone! I mean, jeez!

There Is No Place for This Sort of Thing in a Men's Locker Room

2008-01-10T17:23:00.000-08:00

After my shower at the Y this afternoon, I noticed that someone had left his bath pouf in the locker room. Duuuuuude. If Men's Locker Room Rule No. 1 is No Oprah on the TV, then No. 2 is No Poufs, Period.

THERE'S STILL TIME! IT STILL COUNTS!

2008-01-09T22:20:00.000-08:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BECKY HUD!!! ROCKET FEVER LOVES YOU!!!

2008-01-09T07:59:00.000-08:00

SECOND LEVEL, GONE WIRED CAFE (FORMERLY RAUPP'S CAMP FITTER), MICHIGAN AND FAIRVIEW AVENUES, LANSING, MICH.--It wasn't entirely fitting that "Paradise City" came on the radio as I descended upon Ingham County on Saturday morning (the grass certainly isn't green this time of year), but its refrain of "Oh won't you please take me home" at least made me smile. I had flown into Detroit the day before, and was traveling at a responsible speed down I-69 in my rented PT Cruiser.

My host on Friday were the Jake and Bridget Cooleys of Grosse Pointe. We dined on copious amounts of meats, cheeses, breads, and whiskey at the esteemed Roma Cafe in Eastern Market, and were joined for the caper by Amy-Shane and Mandy-Brent, which ensured wall-to-wall riotous discussion. Happily for me, much of the convo centered on new beginnings as Mandy and Amy were joining me in embarking upon new jobs (congrats, ladies!). The evening ended, not surprisingly, sitting around Jake and Bridget's dining-room table, drinking homemade Bailey's and generally laughing our keesters off.

(A note about Jake and Bridget's house: It is unmistakably but unexplainably a Grosse Pointe house. The layout and interior design are wholly different from my grandparents' old place on Park Lane, but within minutes of entering, I could tell I was in a G.P. home. There was something about the smell, the way the light hit the windows, the presence of a front and back staircase [my grandfather later told me their first house on Pemberton had five staircases], the way the house hung well on you like a good suit.)

I woke up Saturday morning, enjoyed my second bagel and tea courtesy of the Cooleys, and hit the road for Lansing. I got home a few minutes before noon, just ahead of various siblings, siblings-in-law, nieces, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Naz Arandi will be happy to note that Ivie has grown even more beautiful at 3 years old. And now she's talking up a storm and banging around like a proper toddler: perfect. She, her sister, Elly, and cousin, Brianna, are in the early stages of composing a famous coterie of cousins; watching these kids grow up is going to be fun. I honestly couldn't get too caught up with brother Chris and sisters-in-law Sarah and Meghan since I spent most of the day holding Brianna, chasing Elly, and tickling Ivie. Uncle Craig considers it a fair trade.

The first wave of family left Saturday afternoon just as the second wave -- the Hays of Falls Church, New York, and Blacksburg (soon to be Charlotte) -- arrived. Aunt Jenny and Uncle Gordon look great, and it was a smashing good time seeing cousins Justin and Ian. Justin does IT for a financial firm in Manhattan, and he can expect to be buying me a drink and offering me a couch to crash on when I finally visit New York. Ian is about to graduate from Virginia Tech and take a banking position in Charlotte, and he can expect to bail me out with a major loan when this freelance thing finally goes bust.

We continued family time the next day at our grandparents' place in East Lansing, where we ate barbecue (excellent job, Ma), watched a couple forgettable football games, looked at pictures (way to go, Flickr), talked politics, and watched Musharraf and Clemens on 60 Minutes. After that, Sister and I introduced the Hay boys to the Peanut Barrel, where I was on my way toward pasting Ian in pool when I scratched on the eight ball (which Justin repeated, giving Ian two really weak wins).

And then the past couple days included work (no, seriously, I'm a freelancer!), a viewing of Enchanted (my expectations were too high), dinner at PT Chang's that included a happy encounter with the Diaz family (friends from high school), a visit to Sister's quaint new home in quaint old Williamston for a Flight of the Conchords marathon and a surplus of puppy love from Wryly the Lab, lunch at Woody's Oasis with Beth and Barry Cook, a round of tag-team editing with Pop, a few viewings of a classic family video featuring a piano medley by one Harold Gaines, and some choice cuts of steak.

Which brings me to the Gone Wired Cafe just a few blocks down from the original domicile on Fairview. This is now officially my favorite place in Lansing. The coffee is solid, the Internet is free, the booths are roomy, the vibe is local, the music is straight-up jazz, and then there's the chicken sandwich. While the olive burger is no doubt the official dish of mid-Michigan, the chicken sandwich at the Gone Wired Cafe is the perfect evocation of the Capital City, much like the Newsroom Cafe's avocado bacon chicken burger perfectly evokes Los Angeles. Where the chicken burger is bursting with flavor, the chicken sandwich is straightforward; where the chicken burger is piled with avocado, turkey bacon, and "pesto-tofunnaise," the chicken sandwich is dressed with a pretty red tomato slice and a slice of melted Swiss; where the chicken burger is best eaten on a sunny patio overlooking the boutiques and celebrity restaurants of Robertson Boulevard, the chicken sandwich is best eaten in a ramshackle former camping outfitter overlooking the rough storefronts of Michigan Avenue.

And so the Michigan-L.A. existence goes.

Thanks to Ma and Joe for a warm bed and lots of coffee and cinnamon buns! Hold tight, Los Angeles, I'ma comin' home.

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And a quick note to Karis Eklund, the Official Archaeologist of Rocket Fever. She's gone off to bang around some of Earth's more exotic corners, and we couldn't be more excited for her. Everyone at Rocket Fever hopes her travels are safe, her bed is warm, and her eyes are open. Bon voyage!

The Urban Jungle

2008-01-02T10:19:00.001-08:00

A coyote just trotted east across Hillhurst, down the middle of Finley, and then turned south on Commonwealth. A guy walking west on the sidewalk on Finley slowed up as the coyote passed, but the dog didn't have a care in the world.

Just another day in Los Feliz.

Cat Care!

2008-01-02T07:42:00.000-08:00

While I deal with my ongoing case of blog block, check out this short video story (with a moral!) from my friends Jed and June. Happy New Year!

Holla 2008!

2008-01-01T00:30:00.000-08:00

From Micah, Hudder, Becks and Evie D.

A Rocket Fever Classic

2007-12-27T20:54:00.000-08:00

Mike suggested I pull up my post from 2006 detailing Jocko and LeMutt's first night in L.A. As you can see above, Jocko has settled down quite comfortably out here.

L.A. Christmas in Photos

2007-12-25T23:34:00.000-08:00

It's Maggie's first. And a world class experience for all...making an appearance: the KTLA Yule Log, Becky, Buckley, Gaines, the Eklund family. (Not pictured: Lasagna)

Christmas Eve, Silverlake Style

2007-12-24T23:50:00.000-08:00

Vietnamese Noodles and a hot shot of coffee, some sake for Ben, vegetarian-style for his mother and a bottle for Maggie.

Christmas Eve, Hudson Style

2007-12-24T14:39:00.000-08:00

It's not Hans' or even Johann's, but Yum Yum's on West Glenoaks Blvd. did an admirable job for the West Coast clan this year.

Huddy Reports: San Fran in December

2007-12-17T20:46:00.000-08:00

SAN FRANCISCO -- Hey gang. I'm up here for a couple days and thought I'd pass along a few pics for all to enjoy. This is a fine town with mild winter temps, East Coast architecture with large public spaces against impressive hills and bridges. It's a cozy little city compared with the giants like Chicago, LA or NY (or Columbus, Ohio for all you Census lovers), but it has got to be up there on the list of remarkable cities.

What a fun time to be here...lotsa lights, Christmas shopping crowds, street musicians and carolers (CAROLERS!) all around. Plus, I found a tacqueria and ate the shizz out of some carne asada, carne al pastor and pollo en salsa rojo. Buzztastic.

All that said, I'd still rather be with my little girl right now...but this ain't a bad runner up. Send Gaines some pics of the holidays from your neck of the woods and we'll all e-sit around the hearth wishing we had gotten that Xbox.

Going Singular

2007-12-14T10:08:00.000-08:00

Today is my last day at the L.A. Weekly. Starting Monday, I will be a full-time freelance word person. It's a move I've been contemplating for years, and have been seriously planning for the past few months. I'm lucky to have built up as much freelance work as I can take while at the Weekly, and cannot resist the urge to see how much more work is out there. If the early returns are any indication, I should have no problem keeping busy: Some initial rounds of e-mails have already scared up extra opportunities.

Becoming the CEO of Craig Gaines Inc. will also allow me to devote time to the creative endeavors I've been ignoring lately. In the coming months I'll be spiffing up this ramshackle blog, devising some Hudson & Gaines episodes, writing pieces for The City Desk, contributing to The Other Style Council, working on another podcast project, and generally riding that unyielding L.A. wave.

I also plan on banging around the globe a bit, with early plans for visits to the Pacific Northwest, New York City, and Istanbul Holy-Mother-of-God Turkey.

In a way, I've been leading up to this move ever since I started Rocket Fever and left Cleveland. That physical and mental break with one era began a years-long transition to this 21st-century, self-deterministic period of my life that will lead me to points unknown. That's what Rocket Fever has always been about: Choosing paths leading to the great wide open. Here I go!

It's True

2007-12-10T15:28:00.000-08:00

Guess which really great blog comes up if you Google "california best state ever"?

Feet

2007-12-06T10:33:00.000-08:00

My good friend Natalie Milbrodt, also a close chum of one Becky Amos, has created a documentary about feet. From watching the trailer, I gather that foot culture is much richer than I ever thought. I mean, everyone's heard of a shoe fetish, but Natalie has people discussing their feet preferences in more detail that I can talk about the 1990 Detroit Pistons (Brendan Suhr and Brendan Malone, assistant coaches).

I met Natalie during my film-studies program in London while at Michigan State. Natalie, obviously, embarked on the program because she was serious about becoming a filmmaker. I, on the other hand, just wanted to watch movies and drink absinthe. (This is the trip, by the way, during which I also forged my lifelong friendship with the legendary Kate Cosgrove. There are many other luminous alumni from that summer. I wonder where some of those folks are.)

So run or walk or tiptoe or skate or dance or skip your way to Feet the Movie if it shows up at a film fest near you!

(Full disclosure: I am typing this post while wearing my Puma El Rey Us vs. Them shoes.)

Incredible, Even Dangerous Levels of Cute

2007-12-05T12:30:00.000-08:00

**Note them shoes!**

RF Hearts MJ

2007-12-03T18:03:00.001-08:00

Rocket Fever's Official Bundle of Joy,
enjoying her first visit to the Midwest.

Hudson & Gaines Ep. 21 Is NOW!

2007-12-03T10:26:00.000-08:00

Christmas in early December? Must be! Now that we're 21 episodes old, who's going to buy us our first (legal) drink? C'mon! We can hold our drink!

Anyhoo, in the show's triumphant comeback from natural disaster, Gaines resorts to desperate measures (namely, hijacking the show) to bring attention to what he sees as a gross oversight: The Bush Pilots' failure to give full sensory awareness to its hearing- and vision-impaired fan base. He has some 21st-century solutions, but Hudson and Lynn Jepson, those twin forces of moderation, aren't having any of it.

Join the fight at the Firefox-unfriendly hudsonandgaines.com, or check out your handy subscription on iTunes. And, gosh, tell a friend!

Resources!

2007-11-28T16:11:00.001-08:00

So I ordered these four martini glasses from Crate and Barrel online.

And it came in this much packaging, after having been shipped here from Illinois. Prolly shoulda just picked them up from the C&B in Hollywood, huh?