Dave Alpert: I Know Where You’re Going with That

In the past 3 years, I’ve written numerous posts about parking in Boston.  In this one, I reminisced about the sweatshirt my mom once gave me that had a huge orange ticket across it with the line: “Boston: a great place to visit… but I wouldn’t want to park there.”  Having lived within the city limits for 10 years, I have to say that our fair city does, in fact, live up to its sweatshirt slogans. 

Yesterday, I parked on Hereford St at a 2-hour meter–not a new multi-space meter, mind you, but the old-fashioned “feed the meter” meter.

I filled the meter to the brim and headed down the street to my destination.  With ten minutes to spare, I returned to my car to move it to a different space.  Because it was later in the afternoon, there were plenty of spaces, both on the same street and adjacent streets.  I moved it to a space further down the street.  After such a collosal effort, I was shocked to find that an hour and a half later, I received a ticket for “over the meter limit” anyway.

I quickly found a BTD employee and asked why I received a ticket.  I was told that it is not enough to move to a different meter; you are actually prohibited from parking on THAT BLOCK!  All I could think of what that scene in Animal House in which Dean Wormer says, “There is a little-known codicil in the Faber constitution….”  I know that “ignorance to the law is no excuse” but I can’t even find where it says that.  I did look through some relevant parts of Boston Traffic Rules and Regulations, but I still can’t find where it says, “move to another block.”

In addition, the modern day meter attendant is armed with technology that allows them to note that my car is on a particular street.  Can’t they also note at which meter I’m parked?

So, here we go again.  Another ticket appeal. More frustration. Another stamp. More wasted time on everyone’s part.  The way things are going, I wouldn’t be surprised if I had to pay the ticket.  I’ll keep you posted.  Wish me luck!

It’s been a while since we last graced the stage at TT the Bear’s in Cambridge, MA, so we are pretty excited about this one!

Announcing a fun mid-summer rock show with Kevin Hearn (Barenaked Ladies) and The Everyday Visuals…

show flyer by designer Michael Leykin. 

Tuesday, July 14th, 2009. Doors are at 8:30pm.  We go on first (9pm), so come early and hang with 3 great bands.  The show is 18+ and tix are just $10.  We could really use the support, so don’t miss this show.  Hope to see you there!

I know.  They say that musicians are irresponsible party animals. 

ERRONEOUS!  We recycle!

I was walking down Boyston St, crossing Mass Ave in Boston, and saw the fog rolling across the skyline.  Here’s a shot of the Pru I took with my phone…

As I continued down the street, I passed by Boston Fire Station Engine 33 (also know as “Hollywood” by other firefighters because the firemen sit in front of the station and watch all the decked out girls walk by in the summer). 

The guys at that station definitely have fun.  Some of you may recall the story I told about the time I walked into the middle of a practical joke there and got soaked by someone pouring a bucket of water out a window on the head of one of the firemen who was making announcements.  Today, as I walked by, some of the firemen were flirting with 2 young ladies, and they were all looking up at the skyline.  I heard one of them say, “Heah that Joe, can’t even see the HanCOCK.  That’s what she said.”  You really couldn’t.

A few weeks ago, I was driving through Watertown with my roommate, drummer, and man-about-town–Chris Anzalone.  The car in front of us had a vanity license plate that just said “PASHI”.  So, as we drove, we let our imaginations run wild.  In our heads, Pashi was some sort of anti-Fonzie.  You know.  The Fonz from Happy Days…

While The Fonz was cool, got all the girls, helped his friends out of any situation, Pashi is the exact opposite.  Pashi can’t get laid to save his life, tries to be smooth but comes off as smarmy, and he’s entirely oblivious to the people around him.  “Ayyyy.  It’s Pashi!” I guess in my head, Pashi also kind of looks like Beni, the wimpy thief from the 1999 version of The Mummy.

So, you may be wondering why I’m sharing this tale of 2 juvenile musicians concocting stories about some fictitious character named Pashi.  Well, as opposed to Fonzie, who rode a motorcycle, Pashi drives a station wagon.  And just today, I spied Pashi again–this time turning into the 7-11 in Watertown.

Ay, It’s Pashi!

So, who is this man of mystery?

I want to start off by apologizing to my loyal readers for my failing to post over the last few months.  I’ll try to be better about telling humorous (read: obnoxious) stories online for the world to enjoy and discuss.

Okay, on to some topics of interest…

I love bones.  I think the US must be the most boneless country on earth, however.  Meat starts out being attached to bones.  Now, it’s like they are genetically breeding animals without bones.  And boneless buffalo wings are totally stupid.  They aren’t even made out of wing meat.

Speaking of bones… I have a bone to pick with performers who get on stage wearing flip-flops.  If you want to play music wearing flip-flops, roll yourself a fatty, sit in the back yard and strum away.  But in the Stage Clothes Handbook, flip-flops are on the no-fly list before sandals and after clogs.  I’m not the only one who thinks that flip-flops can be detrimental to your career.  I particularly like this line from the Reuter’s article: “‘Wearing flip-flops conveys the mood that you are relaxed and on vacation. That’s not a good message in the office,’ said Meghan Cleary, a style commentator.”

photo credit: Patrick Schneider, The Charlotte Observer via WPN

Next topic… insane environmentalists.  When I started hanging out at Esspreso Royale Caffe in Boston 4 years ago, this much older woman was dating one of my Berklee friends.  She talked a lot and only about depressing topics.  She was a total punisher.  Fast forward to last week.  I walked into Porter Square Books to buy a cup of coffee to extinguish the fire in my head, and I saw her standing at the coffee bar. 

It took some time to get my coffee, but to my horror, she was still there.  I needed some milk and had no choice but to interact.  I watched her pick up straws and put them down, grab a fork and drop it, stare at the sugar packet in her hand.  Pick up and put down a milk container.  So, I joked, “You seem perplexed by the coffee bar.”  She said nervously, “Yes. Yes.  Perplexed is the right word.  I put too much cream in, you see, and then I put in sugar, so now I have sugar on the cream.”  She lifted the raw sugar packed and continued, “You can’t even recycle these because they are lined with plastic, and I can’t decide what to use to stir this that will be the most earth friendly, and now, i can’t decide, the fork or the knife [both metal].”  I realized that she’s not just annoying; she’s also bat-shit crazy.  I interrupted, “Look.  If we continue this discussion, I’ll go completely insane.”  I made my escape.

But it really got me thinking about environmentalism.  We all just want to “have our cake and eat it, too”.  It’s not about recycling.  The real problem is that we have managed to overpopulate the world at an alarming rate, so that we are consuming at an alarming rate.  And we have advanced medicine so much that people are living a long time–far too long if you are REALLY concerned with  the environment.  If that woman really wants to reduce her carbon footprint, she should just kill herself.  According to these life expectancy stats from the CDC, if it were 1900, she’d already be dead.  Back then, the life expectancy at birth was 47.3.  In 2005, it was 77.8.  The additional 30 years of consumption means something.  And shouldn’t we start limiting the number of children people have?  Remember the crazy octuplets woman:

Wow.  Now, that’s a lot of bones.  Nuff said.

These photos are from our show at Club Bohemia in Cambridge, MA last Saturday.  Thanks to Kate Korolenko for snapping them!  The Cello Chix opened the show, and they kicked ass!

Dave Alpert & Chris Anzalone

Rob Sistare looking all badass

Dave Alpert, Mariana Iranzi & Chris Anzalone

everyone rocking

Yesterday, I was speaking with a friend and old colleague who asked me how I felt about the anniversary of the day POPstick died (February 14th, 2005)–or at least the day most of the employees in Boston’s Fenway office were laid off in one felled swoop.  Funny how Valentine’s Day will never have the same meaning again.  I wrote this post recounting the fantastic story of the layoff a few years back.

Great to know that almost all of us have moved on to do great things with our creativity (even if some of us are a whole lot poorer).  And many of us are still close friends.  So, happy anniversary everyone!

I’m playing another great rock show at Club Bohemia tonight.  I’ll be joined by this guy on drums:

Chris “Last of the Village People” Anzalone

This guy on guitar:

Rob “Brrrrrown Beard” Sistare

and on the bass:

Chuck “No Pictures Please” Vath

It’s gonna be an amazing rock show with 3 other great bands, so come early and hang out!

DAVE ALPERT
Thursday, February 12, 9pm
Cantab Lounge (downstairs)
738 Mass Ave, Cambridge, MA - Central Sq
doors at 8pm.  Lloyd Thayer kicks off the show.  We play 2nd, and then stick around for Milquetoast and Hope Roth! 21+. $8.  See you there!

I am sick of hearing about two subjects lately: the crazy fertility treatment woman who gave birth to octuplets and apologetic sports figures falling from grace.  Personally, I forgive the octuplet woman; she is just insane.  But if an insane woman has octuplets in the woods, and there are no journalists there to report on every pube of the story and rehash the same info day and night, does it really waste my time????  I just hope that the media eventually gets the memo: WE DON’T CARE. 

While there are similarities between that story and the stories about A-Rod taking drugs and Michael Phelps (taking drugs), there are striking differences–and I do not forgive them.  To me, the issue isn’t whether these sports figures took (or take) drugs.  I don’t care.  It’s just that they are not sorry, so their apologies insult and anger me. 

Watching interviews with Michael Phelps and Alex Rodriguez reminds me of my experiences as a summer camp unit head.  For two summers, I ran a leadership training program for 10th graders, and one month I had a camper with severe behavior problems.  When caught doing something wrong and confronted by the authorities (me and my staff), he would say, “I know, Dave.  I’m sorry.  What I did was entirely wrong. I broke your trust.  I let you down, and I just hope that you’ll forgive me.”  But the only thing he was sorry about was that he got caught.  The apology was just a way to diffuse my anger and to soften any repercussions.  This is EXACTLY what these guys are doing.

Of the two, A-Rod is definitely far more despicable.  Even though he seemingly takes responsibility for his actions, he also keeps couching his apologies with excuses.  At least Michael Phelps just says, “Yeah. My bad.”  A-Rod keeps talking about “the times” and “everyone was doing it” and “I felt pressured by the league”.  It’s sort of like looting a Best Buy during a hurricane, being caught by the police holding a flat screen TV, and saying, “It’s just the times.  Look.  Everyone loots.” 

There are really only two things that are frowned upon in sports: cheating and bad sportsmanship.  By taking performance enhancing drugs in competition and subsequently lying about it and making excuses, A-Rod has managed to demonstrate both.  Way to go!

While I do enjoy sports, I never counted sports figures as heroes.  I suppose the story would hold more significance for me if I did.  On the other hand, that’s the problem with viewing athletes as heroes.  In the past, heroes were great leaders or warriors or men and women whose deeds impacted the world in a more significant way.  Unfortunately, mass media has created a reality in which we often mistake celebrity for greatness (i.e. Paris Hilton).  So, I guess that one problem is that celebrity athletes are held to high standards more on par with their salaries than their personal character.  That’s our fault.

Still, I DON’T CARE, and I don’t want to hear about it.  As I discussed earlier, we Americans have more important things to worry about nowadays.