Starting Five

1. BOOM!

Yes, the tragedy on Boylston Street is horrific. Three dead, 144 wounded. Awful and outrageous. We’ll get to that. Meanwhile, last Friday in Washington, D.C., your congressional “leaders” repealed the STOCK (Stop Trading on Congressional Knowledge) Act. Unanimously. The act, passed last year, would have required federal employees earning more than $119,000 a year to disclose their financial dealings in an online database as a means of preventing insider trading by powerful, well-connected government officials.

At the time President Obama said, “The idea that everybody plays by the same rules is one of our most cherished  American values. It’s the notion that the powerful shouldn’t get to create one  set of rules for themselves and another set of rules for everybody else, and if  we expect that to apply to our biggest corporations and to our most successful  citizens, it certainly should apply to our elected officials—especiarlly at a  time when there is a deficit of trust between this city and the rest of the  country.”

I’m trying to find the E-Trade statement that proves I bought Netflix last summer.

According to official records the bill was passed within 10 seconds of being introduced in the Senate and within 14 seconds of being introduced in the House. If there were a 24-second clock on Congressional bills…

Why so fast? Why no debate? Do you want to be the Congressman who goes on record saying that you are in favor of keeping the public in the dark as to how you are turning your $174,000 salary into an annual income that is five to ten times that? Those words will come back to haunt you come election time. But damn if that bill didn’t get passed unanimously and quick.

Now it’s up to President Obama to put his money where his mouth was last year and veto it. It will probably still pass –they obviously have the votes — so Obama will likely veto it knowing that his veto is immaterial here. Will he raise public awareness of it, though?

Full disclosure: government officials must still disclose dealings of greater than $1,000 within 45 days of the transaction, but it will no longer be available on an on-line database. It’s just going to be that much harder to locate this publicly available info. Then again, some public advocacy group will likely create a website that makes all this information readily available on-line to you and I, won’t they? So what was the point of Congress’ action?

2. “We’ve had an attack” — Steve Silva, videographer

You know the details. We had the most evocative photo and the most salient video and the name of the runner who stumbled up on this site yesterday afternoon, long before the cable and network news channels had them. Not because I am a terrific investigative reporter, but rather because I pay attention to Twitter. Instead of rehashing the event — we all saw what happened — I’ll ask some questions and make some observations designed to provoke thought.

— It’s 9 a.m. on the East Coast and we all know that an eight year-old boy was killed and that his name was Martin Richard. That’s truly sad. He was cheering on his father, who was running the marathon, and the family is from Dorchester, Mass. His sister lost her leg. We also know that two other people were killed but we know nothing about them. Male or female? Adult or children? White or not? Isn’t it incumbent upon the news channels to at least inform us that they have no specifics about whom the other two victims are at this time? If they don’t know, they should inform viewers. If they do know, they should not single out the eight year-old boy as if his life were more valuable. It does draw in viewers, though, doesn’t it? (UPDATE: I just heard Lester Holt say, “One of the three dead, an eight year-old.”)

Moment of the blast

— What is “terror”? Besides being an alarmist term, I mean? From what we hear it no longer takes a group with the amassed scientific skills of the Manhattan Project to develop a pipe bomb. No one knows who perpetrated this act. It may have been a foreigner or a domestic with a political agenda. It just as easily could have been a nihilist like Adam Lanza, who killed far more people last December. Is it terror if you use a bomb instead of a gun? Is it terror if you target a well-known site or event as opposed to a school? A crime is a crime is a crime is a crime. What’s “terror” got to do with it?

–Last night I was combing through columns looking for one that captured the pathos and gravity of yesterday’s heinous crime and a city’s resilience (I’m like a poor man’s Richard Deitsch; literally). The best story I found was writtenby Kevin Cullen of the Boston Globe.

— I know, I know, I know. It’s far down the list of “what’s important.” But I’ll mention it. Extremely Handsome Man Adam Scott won the Masters on Sunday (Clay Travis described him as “The man your wife or girlfriend would rather be with than you”) and the glistening rain combined with his killer biceps would make for a great Sports Illustrated cover. On the other hand, Boston occurred on Monday afternoon for a magazine that closes on Monday night. And I’ll add that managing editor Christian Stone is a Tufts alumnus (assistant managing editor Steve Cannella is a Boston College graduate). I’ll be curious to see how SI handles this from a cover perspective.

—Mike Barnicle, Boston Globe columnist: “This was as if someone came into your living room and attacked you.” True. And you can ask the native Americans who lived in what is now Massachusetts, Connecticut and Rhode Island between the years 1620 and 1650 how that feels. Read Nathaniel Philbrick’s “Mayflower” some day when you get the chance.

–Days such as yesterday remind us how much more valuable our time is spent devoting ourselves to careers that help make the world a better place. The police, the first responders, the doctors and nurses who worked tirelessly through the night attempting to save lives and limbs. None of them lose any sleep wondering if they are happy or not, I bet. Something for younger readers to think about and consider.

–The 78 year-old runner who stumbled and fell at the moment of the blast, Bill Iffrig, rose and finished the race in less than 4 hours and 10 minutes. He finished second in his age group and a 4:10 at that age is incredible. Said Iffrig, “When you get that close to the end of the marathon, you’re going to finish.” Good for him. Iffrig, who has been on the earth some seven decades more than Martin Richard lived, was probably no more than 10-15 yards away from Richard when he was killed. That’s life. It’s not supposed to make any sense.

— “Thoughts and prayers.” I apparently incited a furor on Twitter amongst some of my (former) followers for suggesting that a tweet of “thoughts and prayers” is a hollow act of piety. Last summer, in the premiere episode of “The Newsroom”, anchorman Will McAvoy rolls his eyes while reporting on the BP oil spill after a second corporation sends out a release noting that its “thoughts and prayers go out to the victims.” My point isn’t that people tweeting such thoughts do not care; it’s that typing those words, from an emotional standpoint, is the equivalent of the $20 gift certificate as a Christmas present. It’s tantamount to a Costanzan donation in your name to the Human Fund. It’s the most convenient and unimaginative form of grief. It is boilerplate.

And let’s be honest: Is this grief? Did you know these victims? Or do you just feel the need to be involved because you “saw it on the TEEEE-VEEEE?” Nobody with a heart is anything but devastated when watching the video, and knowing that innocent people lost their lives and limbs in that attack. But “thoughts and prayers” translates, at least to me, as you wanting the world to know that you have a compassionate soul. Last night I read a tweet from actor Wendell Pierce. He wrote, “Prayers of peace to the world. Peace of spirit to those around the world who have lost a loved one to violence today. May you be blessed.”

See what Wendell did there? He actually conveyed both a thought and a prayer.

— Yes, April. Specifically, mid-April. The hour of Waco, Columbine, Oklahoma City, Virginia Tech, and yes, Lexington and Concord. And now Boston. It is one of the best months of the year, the true advent of spring and the regeneration of life in the natural kingdom. So why has it developed this notoriety for nihilism and violence?

3. Mad Men

You are welcome to your opinion, but for me the show is at least three times better when it focuses on the spreadsheets as opposed to what’s going on between the sheets. The philandering of Don Draper and Pete Campbell plays a role in the narrative, but the office scenes are magic. They are Sun-Tzu meets the Wernham Hogg Paper Company.

Roger Sterling does not appear in Sunday’s episode until it is two-thirds over, and before he even utters a line, his admiring grin during the meeting between SCDP and Jaguar may be the show’s most rewarding moment. Roger’s smirk says it all: Look at Don Draper talking out of both sides of his mouth at the same time, overtly obeying the craven request of a New Jersey Jaguar dealer — a slimy creep whom he loathes — to persuade the corporate overlords to refocus their campaign locally while simultaneously destroying the idea with the words he uses. Roger’s admiring grin is the same one you and I are wearing at home, marveling at the brilliance of the scene.

And to think that the dealer tells Pete Campbell afterward, “He’s (Don’s) no salesman!” HA!

When Roger finally has a chance to talk to Don, in Don’s office, he says, “That may be the finest act of self-immolation I have ever seen.” Don: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Then Pete enters and admonishes Don: “Why can’t you just play by the rules?” Don, who can be so idealistic and ethical professionally (and when it comes to Joan), locates a metaphor and tells Roger and Pete, “This is Munich.” Pete, decade or so younger than his veteran/military veteran partners, replies, “You guys are always talking about Munich. What the hell does that mean?”

Roger: “It means we gave the Germans whatever they wanted to make them happy, but it just made them want more (a syndrome that Megan Draper and Trudy Campbell can relate to).”

And then Pete’s retort: “Well, who the hell won the war?”

If that isn’t the most Pete Campbell thing ever said, I don’t know what is.

It’s a perfect television moment, from the board meeting –where Don suggests putting Jaguar fliers in the Sunday paper– to this confab in Don’s office. Mad Men does not get any better than that. What series could?

4. The HBO comedy special, Oh My God, a taping of Louis CK’s concert last February in Phoenix, Ariz., premiered over the weekend. If you had to introduce a stranger to the mind of Louis CK in just one bit, you’d want to refer him to “Of Course, But Maybe.”

5. Now, a treat. My 18 year-old niece, Kristen, a college freshman at Loyola Marymount, attended the Coachella Music festival last weekend. Like all writers who contribute to this site, she is more talented than its founder. Here’s Kristen’s report on her weekend of music and mayhem in the desert:

Coachella Vs. The College Student

by Kristen Walters

        Midterms, all-nighters, weekends, finals, parties, 20-page research papers. I consider myself to be an expert at all of these—just try and test me. I have Red Bull running through my bloodstream, I drink coffee like it is water, and sleep is basically non-existent. It seems as though nothing can stop me! I can’t be tamed!

            Nothing can stop me, besides Coachella, that is. I finally met my match this past weekend when I attended the Coachella Valley Music and Arts Festival held in Indio, CA.

“We are young/So we’ll set the world on fire…”

            Let me start by saying that when I was at Coachella, I felt like I was on another planet (And no, I was not on ‘shrooms). Different types of live music everywhere I turned, so many young people just having the times of their lives, and even that picturesque ferris wheel that lights up the sky—it all creates an atmosphere unlike anything I have ever experienced.

            But not everything about Coachella is out of a dream. For instance, the plethora of hipsters roaming the grounds with their pretentious attitudes was straight out of a nightmare. I actually never minded the whole hipster thing until Coachella. To all the people hipper-than-I: Yes, I know you heard of them before me. Yes, I know I only know the words to that one hit song that’s overplayed on the radio. Yes, I am aware of how upset you are that this band is now becoming too mainstream.

            Also—a side note: I could have done without the girls in the flower head bands. This is not the 70’s and you are not at Woodstock, you are in the Sahara tent dancing to music that is made from a guy pressing buttons on his Mac.

            One other thing—put your phone away. I will never understand why people insist on recording the entire set on their iPhone. First of all, I assure you there are professionals taking pictures and videos that will be of much better quality than yours. Second, the Red Hot Chili Peppers are right in front of you! (And you are missing it because you’re so focused on your videotaping).  But at least you have that one video, right? I too would much rather have that video—that I will never look at again—than have actually enjoyed the moment and the music. I also love having your raised videotaping hand block my view the entire show. Love it.

(Editor’s Note: So my 18 year-old niece is Louis CK; I could not be prouder)

            People are so obsessed with their phones that at Coachella there is actually a charging station. Here, I stumbled upon a group of people sitting around outlets charging their phones. As I walked by, I could just feel their intense pain. 20% battery left? What an atrocity! It seems as though they would rather die than let their phones die.  

Karen O. of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs

            But despite this, I have only good things to take away from my Coachella experience. Thousands upon thousands of people and I didn’t find myself waiting in line for a bathroom or for a bite to eat (by the way, the food was overpriced, but awesome). Let’s just say they really had their stuff together.

            There are six different tents/stages at the festival, including the main stage. All day long, bands and artists of all genres of music are performing. The great thing about Coachella is that one moment I was watching Band of Horses (an indie rock band), then I could go over and witness the wonderful talent known as 2 Chainz ( a rapper? I think), and then from that I could go into a tent where a DJ, such as Wolfgang Puck, is playing music and everyone’s dancing and going crazy. When there was no one performing I particularly knew of, I walked around to the different stages and found myself discovering new music everywhere I went. There is definitely something for everyone at Coachella.

The Not-Far-From-San-Diego Chargers

            I would describe Coachella as a three-day party. I could also describe it simply as a college kid’s dream and a parent’s worst nightmare. It’s non-stop all day and you are either ready for it or you’re not. I brought all my energy—which is a lot—and at the end of each day I was completely drained. And by the end of that third night it was clear Coachella got the best of us.

            After having lived through three days of Coachella and all of its glory, we college students went from hyped, eager, wide-eyed animals dancing everywhere we went, to zombies literally covered in a layer of dust (thanks to a sandstorm that swept through Sunday night) walking slowly in unison toward the shuttles that would take us away from this dreamlike place forever. Or until next year, at least. I would go every year if I could. There really is nothing like it. I’m still trying to process it all.

            But I did find the college student’s kryptonite: 3-day music festivals. I have to give Coachella props because it might be the ONE thing on earth that can wear a college student out. Thousands upon thousands of them, at that.

Coachella: 1. College Student:0. 

            And I didn’t even camp.

“There is no such thing as a good tax.”

–Winston Churchill

 Starting Five

1. Let’s Give Them Something To Talk About

Boston Marathon. Patriots’ Day.  The finish line clock read 4:09:44 when presumably a bomb was detonated less than 100 yards or so short of the finish line, just outside of the Marathon Sports store. The explosion occurred just to the left of the course and you’ve probably already seen the video. But this is THE VIDEO, at least thus far. A second explosion occurred about 150 yards up Boylston Street, in that same final .2 mile of the famed 26.2-mile race.

This iconic photo shows Boston P.D. reacting with the strongest sense of purpose, and looming over the runner who fell to the pavement in the immediate aftermath of the concussive blast. It will probably win a Pulitzer Prize.

Photo by John Tlumacki, Boston Globe. The runner is Bill Iffrig, 78.

There are deaths. And there is dismemberment. Precisely how many of each are unknown at this moment. One eyewitness reported that “Somebody’s leg flew by my head.”

Deaths. Lost limbs. Horrific, of course. “Thoughts and prayers”, isn’t that what we are supposed to tweet? Another April day and another descent into madness. Waco. Oklahoma City. The Virginia Tech shooting, which took place simultaneously with the 2007 Boston Marathon (a male victim’s female sibling was actually running Boston at the time he was murdered.

Such events no longer occur in a vacuum. They occur and, whether by design of the perpetrators or not, they seize command of Twitter, cable news and even network news. We tweet out “thoughts and prayers” because it’s happening in our living room, via computer or television. And because they’re either American or on our side. Twenty bombs and 37 dead in Iraq today, too, but we’re all kind of over that.

It’s almost as if whoever commits the heinous crime takes a line from that Bonnie Raitt song, as if a bored and stagnant nation needed something to be horrified or indignant about. But then nobody detonates a bomb when the LIBOR scandal happens, now do they?
You cannot commit a crime such as the one committed on Boylston Street today without gaining both fame and infamy, even if it is only in Warhol-ian time increments. And we should be wondering just how much that truth plays into the motivation to commit the crime in the first place.

2. Tiger Woods Improves His Lie

It’s not complicated. Here are the salient points worth making over Tiger Woods’ 2nd-round visit to Amen Corner last Friday:

1.) Nothing about Tiger’s past, on or off the golf course, is relevant in terms of discussing this issue.

2.) Golf rules may be arcane and silly and redolent of a time when Ward sat down the Beaver and explained to him that sometimes the difficult thing to do is the best thing to do. And, yes, it’s 2013. But the rules of golf are the rules of golf and no one altered them between Friday morning and Saturday afternoon. If you don’t believe me, ask Guan Tianlang.

3) Tiger Woods hit, fittingly for him, too perfect an approach shot on 15. His ball actually struck the stick, and then ricocheted backward onto the slanted green before rolling into the pond. Tiger essentially has two choices here. He can draw a line between the hole and the point that the ball went into the pond and place his ball anywhere BEHIND the point the ball entered the pond extending as far back as he wants, OR… he can drop a ball “as near as possible” to the place where he struck the approach shot. Since that shot left a divot, it’s not too difficult for Tiger to locate that spot.

4.) Tiger chose option No. 2, which is fine. Except that he placed the ball about two yards, or six feet, or the body length of a slightly taller than average adult male, behind his previous shot. We not only know that Tiger did this but why he did it: to improve his lie. And how do we know this? Because Tiger said so himself in his post-round press conference: “I went back to where I played it from, but I went 2 yards further back and I took, tried to take 2 yards off the shot of what I felt I hit.”

5). At this point, if it were a trial and Aaron Sorkin were writing the script, a blue-eyed Lt. Daniel Kaffee would have stepped in and exposed the fatal flaw of Tiger’s syllogism: If men follow your orders and you ordered them not to touch Private Santiago, then why would you have him moved because you felt he was in danger? If moving the ball — no matter in what direction — to improve your lie is a violation that results in a disqualification, and if the rules of golf attest that you must self-report any transgressions, and if as you just stated, you “went two yards further back” in order to gain a competitive advantage, what are you still doing in this tournament?

6) You like watching Tiger play Augusta. I like watching Tiger play Augusta. CBS and the Masters LOVE seeing Tiger play the Masters. None of that should have mattered. By allowing Tiger Woods to continue — the ticky-tackiness of the foul, again, is irrelevant here; this is the business that golf has chosen — all golf did was become the latest institution (standing proudly with the Justice Dept.) to demonstrate that money trumps justice. That, as George Orwell put it so bluntly in “Animal Farm”, “Some animals are more equal than others.”

Here’s what Dave Kindred thought and here’s what Cameron Morfit offered. For a contrary opinion –and a surprisingly weak argument from a gifted writer –here’s what SI’s Michael Rosenberg wrote.

Is it the death of golf? No. The lowest moment of Woods’ career? Hardly. But it is another step down a treacherous path for this nation, this generation, one that values convenient short-term solutions to hard-won principles. When you start placing the importance of certain individuals (those with money, power and/or celebrity) over ideas and principles, look out.

Remember one of the very first scenes from the first episode in the first season of “Game of Thrones”? When Ned Stark, as the Lord of Winterfell,  beheads the deserter even though he does not want to do it, even though he can see the deserter may have had a valid reason to desert the Night’s Watch? Ned beheads the criminal and tells his son, “The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword.”

Am I overreacting? It was just a golf shot. Maybe. Then again, maybe winter is coming.

3. Speaking of Game of Thrones, here’s the update on Jaime Lannister: He’s gone from handsome to handless. At least one of them (then again, as Elaine Benes might say, “Not the face. Anywhere but the face.”) There was some important right-hand symbolism taking place last night on GoT. Lannister lost his after, oddly enough, coming to the rescue of Lady Brienne. Meanwhile, sister/co-parent Cersei made a prolonged and quite overt demonstration at a council meeting, showing the trio of wise men that both literally and symbolically she sits at the right hand of the father, Tywin Lassiter.

Jamie Lannister: “Call me ‘Lefty’.”

The theme of the show: Money isn’t everything — unless you are the Master of Coin. All of his daddy’s money cannot save Jaime Lannister’s hand –taking the swash out of his buckle — and in fact it probably incited his captor to chop it off. And Kaleesi finds that no amount of money will purchase 8,000 castrated warriors –but one dragon will.

Simply put, GoT is excellent. There’s fantasy and swords, etc, but there’s also realism in the shape of Tyrion Lannister discovering that his nephew’s kingdom is in fabulous, grand debt — and no one in Westeros has ever heard of collateralized derivatives or credit-default swaps.

4. Through 13 career starts Met pitcher Matt Harvey has a 2.21 ERA and a nearly three-to-one strikeouts-to-walks ratio (70 to 26). Last Saturday the New Jersey native took a no hitter into the seventh inning at Minnesota. Harvey, 24, struck out 11 in just 5 1/3 innings in his Major League debut at Arizona last July. He is 3-0 this season with a 0.82 ERA and an MLB-best WHIP of 0.545.

5. Carmelo Anthony and Kevin Durant both have two games remaining, but we don’t expect to see Carmelo, whose Knicks clinched the second spot in the Eastern Conference, in uniform again until New York hosts Boston in the first round. If Carmelo enters a game, that goes against his points-per-game average and currently Melo leads KD in the scoring race, 28.7 to 28.1. Here’s what you should be watching: Durant needs 99 points in two games, versus Sacramento and Milwaukee (both games are in OKC), to surpass Melo. The bet here is that KD gets there.

KD probably needs 60 tonight to get Melo thinking about playing in the Knicks’ final game Wednesday.

Happy 66th birthday, Dave!

The king of comedy

 Starting Five

1. San Diego is now Brawltimore

The word “pacific” means “peaceful in character or intent”, but don’t tell that to the San Diego Padres or Los Angeles Dodgers. Last night Dodger pitcher Zach Greinke plunked Padre batter Carlos Quentin (a San Diego native who attended Stanford, by the way), inciting the “Melee Near Mission Bay.” San Diego is renowned for its wondrous Balboa Park, but who knew it was Rocky Balboa Park (wakka wakka wakka). Mitigating factors:

* Quentin, a right-handed hitter who is known for diving over the plate, was hit on the left shoulder on a 3-2 count in a one-run game in the 6th inning.

*Greinke had hit Quentin, alias “The La Jolla Destroya'”,  twice before in their careers. Greinke has never hit one batter three times.

*Since the start of the 2008 season, Quentin leads the majors in HBP. He has been plunked 96 times, including last night. Quentin led all of baseball in HBP in each of the last two seasons.

Jorge Soler cannot understand why Quentin dropped his bat.

You’d accuse Greinke of having such outstanding control that he knew exactly what he was doing here, but on the other hand the lone earned run he allowed in this game prior to leaving it –the lone run allowed in his two starts — was due to a wild pitch two innings earlier. Greinke, who took on Quentin’s charge to the mound far better than Manti Te’o took on Alabama running backs back in January, broke his collarbone and will miss at least a month or two. Nice $147 million investment there for the Dodgers.

For us, the final piece of the puzzle is what Greinke said to Quentin after plunking him. Quentin took a step or two toward the mound, but then went all bull-seeing-red for some reason a moment later. Here’s what Quentin had to say about that: “I’ve been hit by many pitches. Some have been intentional, some have not been. For the amount I have been hit and my hitting style, I’m going to repeat: I have never reacted that way.”

Makes you wonder what Greinke said to incite this.

2. Carmelo Anthony goes for 36 points, but the Knicks’ 13-game win streak ends in Chicago. Kevin Durant scores 31 points but the Thunder win at Golden State. Currently, Carmelo (“He’s a chucker!”) leads in the scoring race, 28.7 ppg to 28.3 ppg. Hey, here’s a surprise: Do you know who’s leading the NBA in rebounding? The season’s biggest disappointment, Dwight Howard.

OKC should make these their permanent road jerseys…

Jon Barry (whom I love) back on SportsCenter: “The Lakers haven’t been on the same page all year. They haven’t even been in the same library.”

…and the Heat should make these their permanent home jerseys.

3. Leave it to The Daily Show to unearth a wonderful little story as a launch pad to reveal the lunacy and paranoia that is the NCAA. Aasif Mandvi to Minnesota wrestler Joel Bauman, who was on 10% scholarship but lost his eligibility after releasing a rap tune: “Let me tell you your first problem: You’re rapping under the name Joel Bauman.” And after Bauman drops some lyrics, Mandvi deadpans, “But you’re a good wrestler, right?…You’re going to keep wrestling?” The payoff comes from 2:47 to 2:58 on the clip, ending with a North Carolina Tar Heel troll doll. Apt.

4. Here’s Frank Rich writing for New York magazine on the state of the print media industry. Item: There are 30% fewer staffers in the industry than there were in 2000. What’s the problem? Well, consider that you are reading about it on a blog that costs you nothing to read, a blog written by an erstwhile staffer of 15 years at America’s premier sports publication who now earns more money than he ever did there peddling steaks and boozahol two blocks south of its offices. And that you are reading it off a link from the magazine, a magazine that would prefer –but does not demand– you read it by actually purchasing the magazine or buying a subscription. Imagine if there were outlets where you could take sips of Diet Coke for free without actually purchasing a six-pack. How much Diet Coke would you buy?

5. This is funny. Two members of Rush, Geddy Lee and Alex Lifeson, tour Rolling Stone’s offices. Why is that funny? Because Rush, which was recently elected to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, never “made the cover of the Rolling Stone.” They’re no Stillwater, after all. And here they are touring the hallways of Rolling Stone perusing all of the covers in the mag’s 44-year history. Geddy Lee spotting Rodney Dangerfield on the cover of RS: “I identify with Rodney.” Where’s drummer Neil Peart? Bands always leave out the drummers, no? Here’s one of the Canadian trio’s better opening guitar riffs.

Rush: Unafraid to devote an album cover to a pun.

Reserves

We are not even two weeks — a fortnight! — in, so don’t make too much of it, but the National League RBI leader is a dude with a name out of a Steinbeck novel who was born in Wyoming: John Buck of the New York Mets, who has 15. Buck’s position is catcher, but as this story demonstrates, he also has two career saves.

Miss Snake Charmer? Don’t go there, bub.

Young lady standing in the midst of a metaphor for what actual corporate life will be like for her.

Whenever I see that Erin Andrews TruBiotics ad, my mind returns to this sketch from the old ABC late-night attempt at taking down SNL, “Fridays.” “Take a pill!”

I picture Michelle Beadle popping down one of these pills and chasing it with a shot of Patron. Am I wrong?

Mark Lisanti’s “Mad Men Power Rankings” is always a fun read…

Remember the Carnival cruise liner Triumph (“this is a good ship for all of us…to POOP on!”)? Well, they’re offering four-night cruises starting at $149 per person. That’s $38 per night.

The last four emails of Bill Simmons’ long-awaited “Mailbag“, still the best read in sports. Also, note that the afrorementioned Mark Lisanti drops in a question earlier. My favorite comes from the reader that notices that when the Trail Blazers visit the Hornets, the city abbreviations on the scroll combine to make “POR NO”.

Also from the men of Grantland (this blog has morphed into The Grantland Index today), votes for the next host of The Tonight Show. One thing all of us can agree on: It shouldn’t be Jimmy Fallon. My votes are not included here: 1) Seth MacFarland 2) Seth Meyers and 3) Not-Seth DeGeneres.

Why hasn’t anyone mentioned Ellen to succeed Leno?

Manti Te’o visited the steakateria last night. A former New York Giant defensive player was part of his dining party. No one set out an extra table setting for his girlfriend.

Remote Patrol

Wet Hot American Summer

FLIX 8 p.m.

I attended an outdoor screening of this film last summer not far from the Brooklyn Bridge, accompanied by a few thousand hipsters. Paul Rudd and Amy Poehler showed up and you would have thought the Beatles reunited. Funny indie film from 2001, but the cast list is why it bears watching: those two plus Christopher Meloni (as the Carl Spackler of Camp Firewood), Bradley Cooper, Elizabeth Banks and the always underrated Ken Marino. It’s “Dazed and Confused” with a side of “Meatballs.”

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xxx

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Before we issue today’s edition of “It’s All Happening”, here’s the marvelous Chris Corbellini with a brand new, um, thing for us: “Upon Further Review.” This is where Chris returns to a film he saw awhile ago, and with the benefit of time and perspective provides an even more insightful essay. It’s kind of like twice-baked potatoes-meets-film criticism. This is not to be confused with “Upon Fuhrer Review”, which we plan to introduce next week. Here’s Chris…

Upon Further Review: The Descendants

by Chris Corbellini

My first screening of “The Descendants” told me what I already knew: Hawaii is the Leonard-Hagler of tourist spots, a heavenly, hype-busting spit of sand and coral and pools of aquamarine. Halfway through the film the camera cranes over George Clooney and his family as they stare at an unspoiled coast that is a key plot point of the picture, and several patrons in the theater gasped in awe. The land had the best part in the movie. Walking home through a crosswind in frozen and bitter-about-it NYC, I wondered … if this movie were set in Omaha and the mother’s accident happened on an icy road, would people show up to watch? But there’s no denying the re-watchability of it now, as produced on a beach towel in the Pacific. More than a year later “The Descendants” is replayed on HBO virtually every afternoon, becoming a candidate for the 21st Century’s “Just One Of the Guys,” and I thought I’d give it another try.

A Rumination With a View

“Paradise? Paradise can go f-ck itself.”

Writer-director Alexander Payne likes to tell stories about men who must take a bite out of the sloppy poop panini that is sometimes our everyday existence, and then, when they make A Big Decision, those characters must gaze at that panini, sniff it, then wolf it all down in agonizing gulps. In “The Descendants” Payne maps out another tale of emotional awful, and by the third act Clooney has taken so many blows to the psyche he’s seemingly driven downward into the sand. The world-famous actor seems smaller and slighter in his slumped shoulders by the final frames. He also finally looks like a dad.

Sir Salt-and-Pepper plays a lawyer named Matt King, and the story (based on a book by Kaui Hart Hemmings) is as simple and stately as the name. King’s thrill-seeking wife is in a coma after a boating accident and within the first few minutes a doctor gives him somber news no husband wants to hear. He elevates to QB1 after being the “back-up parent” with two daughters who are molded in his spouse’s willful image, and tries not to drown. In doing so, his oldest confesses that mommie dearest was skipping out on him with another man, a Tommy Bahama-wearing real estate anti-Christ. Instead of it all playing out vindictively, the main character decides he wants whatever consistency he can find in his girls’ lives, and perhaps preserve a slice of Kauai who’s sole rightful owner should be the sun. The hints were there from the first few edits: “You give your children enough money to do something but not enough to do nothing,” King says. Right. How would you like your poop panini prepared, Mr King?

Yeah, but think about the estate tax.

Watching the climactic signature scene again, I noticed Clooney is barefoot. He isn’t wearing shoes during an angry confrontation with his wife’s friends about her infidelity either, and neither are they (“You were putting lipstick on a corpse!!”). It’s just as well – Hawaii has to be felt on your bare skin to be appreciated and it’s a nice little costume detail. One of the funniest bits of the movie is when King is actually wearing the wrong shoes as he spastically runs through his neighborhood, and you can hear the slaps of his Dockers on the road. It sounds so … perfectly awkward.  Staying with the technical aspects here that I missed the first time, I spotted two interesting camera shots, filmed for the sake of interesting camera shots: when Clooney’s oldest daughter, played by Shailene Woodley, is caught drinking at her school and tries to evade a searching flashlight, and later, when she screams while submerged in the deep end of a pool. The score was probably the easiest choice for any director that year – local flavor – and that music tickles the footage in the right places (the standout moments: when Clooney dips beneath a bush looking at his wife’s lover, and when a nurse explains the inevitable to the youngest daughter).

All these tiny details and heartbreak add up to an three-star ocean resort of a movie, and Payne doesn’t push it any further.

You have to want to spend two hours with a shell-shocked family, and that’s where the Kings run up the score. When the Beau Bridges character reveals how a man named Brian Speer factors into the land decision at a local bar, Clooney slowly slumps away and his face is molten misery. The close-up reaction was so good, in fact, that the editor uses a “jump cut,” showing the actor twice from the same angle as he plops into a chair. The younger daughter Scottie (Amara Miller) somehow has the best comic timing, and Woodley spits out every line like she just downed a shot of Red Bull. During the confrontation scene with the adulterer on a beach house porch the angst-y teen becomes dad’s Scottie Pippen for good – at that moment it looks like the two actors share the same DNA. The only speech I felt was off that I enjoyed the first go-around was actress Judy Greer’s moment at the mother’s bedside. It felt like overkill. By the time Mr. King says his own goodbye (truly gutting), I’d seen way too many teary-eyed confessionals.

At the end of the day, you’re eating ice cream on a couch in Hawaii with George Clooney. Chin up, girls.

And I still think the grandest performers are the islands of Hawaii. There’s a misty morning scene when King is jogging on the beach and passes the man he’s been looking for, the stranger in the strangers-in-the-night equation, and it’s one of the most stunning settings I’ve seen captured on film. Perhaps that’s the larger point of the movie – this is the silhouette-on-the-beach beauty that’s passing us all by while we are so wrapped up in our heads and tragedies. Then again, perhaps not.  Matt King is looking out for his kids, above all. Hardly a novel thought but worth revisiting on a wintry afternoon, especially with all that tropical island real estate porn around.

Starting Five

1. Honeymoon Over My Hammy

Let’s just begin with the Las Vegas Denny’s that now has a wedding chapel. The service costs $95 but we suggest a gratuity of 15-20%. Top three items from Late Show’s Top 10 list on this: “Number 6, You may now exchange onion rings; No. 4, I will now read a passage from Appetizers; and No. 2, The waiter is in the kitchen giving the maid of honor a sausage slam.”

Not to be outdone, McDonald’s is introducing Drive-Thru Divorce

2 Black Mamba 47

The Lakers’ Kobe Bryant scores a season-high 47 points in 48 minutes as LA edges the Blazers and soon-to-be Rookie of the Year Damian Lillard (38 points). Kobe is averaging 29.5 points over the Lakers’ last eight games, six of them wins, and in the only game he failed to lead LA in scoring, he recorded a triple-double. LA has Golden State, San Antonio and Houston while Utah has two versus the T-Wolves and one versus Memphis. The Lakers have one less defeat now, but if they finish with the same record, the Jazz earn the eighth spot. LeBron: MOP. Kobe: MVP.

Mamba: For goodness’ snake

3. Is it really Quidditch if nobody can fly? The Quidditch World Cup takes place this weekend in Kissimmee, Fla. and be thankful if your school failed to qualify. Most frequent complaint officials hear? “He muggled me on that play.”

One circle. Many squares.

4. Steve Rushin, doin’ what he was born to do. I particularly enjoyed “a crock of Bulls-Heat.”

Rushin, a.k.a. Sir I Lick Guinness

5. Now That’s What I Call a Gal-lery

Yes, that’s Lindsey Vonn looking all Adele Invergordon (all three “The Legend of Bagger Vance” reading this pat selves on the back) during the opening round of the Masters. You know, it’s funny. Vonn’s boyfriend, Tiger Woods, already has four Masters. When will he go for his PhD?

Lindsey

Adele/Charlize

Reserves

Cub prospect Jorge Soler reportedly rushes the opposing dugout wielding a baseball bat. Cub GM Theo Epstein deals him to Lt. Aldo Raine of “the Basterds.”

Your team has won one world championship in the 21st century. Your owner during at least part of that time may be the most bombastic in the sport. Your best player was born outside of the United States. And your team suddenly looks old and not playoff-bound. You are the New York Yankees. Or the Dallas Mavericks.

Fenway Park fails to sell out for the first time in nearly 10 years.

Chances that “Accidental Racist” makes it on to the soundtrack of “42?”

Remote Patrol

The Masters, Opening Round

The Golf Channel, 7:30 p.m.

ESPN 8 p.m.

It’s not live coverage, but it’s still Augusta. Scott Van Pelt and Andy North are your stewards. Tom Rinaldi will interview Bubba Watson in an attempt to set a new world-record in on-air tears.