Lamentations For a Slowly Mainstreaming Band

(The Black Keys is the best band you may have never heard of.)

I hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving break filled with nothing but steamed vegetables and salad...maybe even a croissant or two.  Being back home for the holidays is always great, not only because of the superior food (though I have learned how to make very exquisite PB&J sandwiches during college), but also because it is the best time of the year to catch up with some old friends that you never get to see while you are away learning things you will never need for your future job.  I try to keep in touch with my best friends from high school, because in many ways I feel like I've made many of my life-long friends before I ever stepped into a college classroom being taught by a professor that spoke broken English.

For some reason, I've always had the weirdest taste in movies and music.  I'm not a big fan of movies that are built to win awards, which is why I'll watch something critically frowned upon yet fun like Club Dread or Role Models before I'll watch something as acclaimed as The Hurt Locker ever again.  I mean, my favorite Tom Hanks movie (and possibly just plain favorite movie of all-time) is The Burbs.  To a lesser extent, I feel the same way about music.  To me, relatively unknown bands have a lot more capability to give meaning to average people with their lyrics than a mainstream band does.  I would much rather listen to a song that actually means something to the artist than one that is made purely to be heard on the radio twenty times a day.  Maybe I'm on to something or maybe that is just the way I'm wired, but I do know I that I absolutely cannot ever make a successful party mix with my musical preferences (i.e. My failed attempts with Nick to incorporate LCD Soundsystem at our roommate Joe's ring dunk party.) 

Over the break I was watching the A&M game at my friend Ken's house and had a conversation with my friends Kollin, Tyler, and Matt about music.  These three guys are incredible musicians who have played at our church since we were in junior high school and are now in bands with outstanding record albums that I try not to shamelessly plug whenever I can.  I, on the other hand, have no musical talent, and the biggest claim to fame that I may ever have is that my mom went to prom with a pre-famous-and-pre-Road House Patrick Swayze.  (True story...though she eventually traded up for my dad...not only because his sense of humor and sports knowledge is vastly superior, but also because Red is still alive.)  Anyways, we traded some bands that we thought each other would like...which is one of my favorite things to do because I pride myself in listening to bands that are rarely heard on the radio.  (I know, I'm that guy.)  However, one of these bands is slowly fading out of obscurity and into the mainstream limelight.

During my lone year at Oklahoma my roommate Rick and I would frequently visit a music store in Norman called Guest Room Records.  While he actually owned a vinyl player, I mainly tagged along because I was usually tired of the mind games (lame inside joke..) and loved listening to the obscure bands that were usually featured on the headphone display in the front of the store.  I discovered many of my favorite bands there.  One of the most notable albums I found was a little gem called Keep it Hid by Dan Auerbach.  After doing a little digging, I found his regular band, The Black Keys, and immediately found myself listening to nothing but the two-man group consisting of Auerbach and drummer Patrick Carney.  Starting with The Big Come Up, it became obvious that their old school, vintage rock-style feel was exactly what I needed.  (I vividly remember the time when my friend Austin told me that Nick Drake was a dead guy from the 1970s.  I was devastated; I could have sworn after watching this commercial in high school that he was an up-and-coming musician that was just trying to bring back the Simon and Garfunkel style of music.)  The Black Keys always record their albums quickly and in unusual places.  My favorite album of theirs, Rubber Factory, was named after recording it in an old rubber factory in their hometown of Akron, Ohio.  Their songs are blues inspired and typically go against the bland music that you can find on your local hit radio stations.  They were under-appreciated and a breath of fresh air from the mundane songs you here all the time.  (With the exception of Creed and Nickelback.  If you can't have fun laughing at them then you must not have a sense of humor.)  So for the past few years, while I clearly wasn't one of the earliest to find out about them (their first few albums came out years before I started listening while I was Ray LaMontagne and Iron and Wine heavy), I prided myself as one of the few who was "in-the-know" about the greatest rock band most people had never really heard of while others were busy listening to Hinder.  (Sorry, Rickesh.)

Going back to last Thursday night when I was watching football on TV with my friends, I slowly watched with mixed feelings as The Black Keys slowly dominated the television set.  The fact that these commercials are some of the most overplayed ads on TV right now, along with the fact that Nick said that they had a breakout performance at this year's Austin City Limits Music Festival, did make me sigh with relief that my musical tastes can be more vindicated than my movie tastes.  (In other news, I'd like to take this time to apologize to some of my friends for my Thanksgiving movie selection.  Seriously, do NOT watch the movie Spike.  Because although that cover should be a promising sign for a terribly good time, the RedBox description said nothing about it being a gothic love story.  I thought it was going to be like a killer Sonic the Hedgehog.  But instead of killing people by pressing Down B on the controller, the guy spouted poetry and tried to make some girl fall in love with him.  Come on...at least collect rings or something.)

However, selfishly I guess I always want my bands to be like a pre-Miami Heat version of Chris Bosh: under-appreciated, supremely talented but relatively unknown, and innocent to the harsh effects of day-to-day news and radio coverage.  Yet despite my concerns, I actually am proud of The Black Keys and am happy that they are gaining a larger audience and finding huge success.  Recently they even toured with Kings of Leon, a band that randomly hit the mainstream faster than Andre Johnson destroyed Cortland Finnegan.  I just truly hope that they can find a happy medium and not turn into post-Heat Bosh: overpaid, jaded, and crippled by the hype.  Something tells me they will do it and I doubt they will even have to shave their heads to fight off the Predator jokes.

[Just a disclaimer, I may be off the grid after this post until after finals in order to pass Geology 101...(and yes, I am a senior currently getting weeded out by a freshman weed out class).]


-PB

For the Heat, A New Transfusion of Blood Hopes to Bring True Play

For those with their sarcasm meters turned off, this is an article à la The Onion.

By: Nick Bunce, Associated Press

MIAMI- After a disappointing 8-7 start to the season, many observing the Miami Heat are searching for answers.

"I don't know. It seems that you just can't throw some superstars together to make a super-team, I guess", said team trainer, Michael Ross. "We're all just looking for something that will bring the team together."

Indeed, the early season for the Heat has only been disillusioning, as they were projected to go 79-3 and win both the NBA Championship and the Championship of the Universe representing Team Earth. By all indications, the team has fallen far short of that, despite having All-Stars LeBron James, Dwayne Wade, and Chris Bosh on the team.

"You know, all the responsibility rests on me," quipped James after their most recent 104-95 loss to the Orlando Magic. "All of us, but really myself, really need to step up our, or my, game. "But I really want to make a difference, getting the most points, assists, and steals for myself regardless of what the outcome of the game is."

However, after their loss to the Magic, the Heat may have stumbled onto some sorcery of their own. Before the team separated for Thanksgiving, the team contacted renowned occultist Dr. Konrad von Wittigenstein on possibly trying to gain a new edge on the court. Although, Dr. von Wittigenstein declined comment himself, sources close to the team have said that the new plan involves James, Wade and Bosh transfusing their own blood into each other.

The plan is, that by transfusing each other's blood into each other, they will all will have the ablilities that they each posess. "All 3 of them will have James' vision, Wade's agility, and Bosh's shooting," said an unnamed team source. "The new LeChris Bowaderon will lead our team to victory and glory! Sieg, Heil!"

Other occult experts say that this builds on work previously abandonded by the Nazis in the 1940s.

While other efforts by the Nazis, such as finding the Lost Ark of the Covenant and searching for the actual Holy Grail, have turned out less than successful, the SS had stumbled upon a real stroke of genius in blood transfusions near the end of the war in 1945. If it weren't for a top secret initiative led by American university professors, the Nazis may have turned the tide of the war.

Now, the Miami Heat hope to turn the tide of their season.

When asked about their new plan, James was reluctant to divulge details, but he had this to say: "Imma be takin my talent to Berlin for awhile. For...uh...ya know...tests." Those tests are rumored to be wildly successful. While Wade's and Bosh's blood tested AB+ (a universal recipient), James' blood was rumored to contain the blood of several million Cleveland residents who were recently murdered in a bizzare and inexplicable event this summer. Even so, the transfusion was successful, and the team hopes for all three players to rejoin the team for Friday's game against the Philadelphia 76ers.

"We hope to honor Wilt Chamberlain's legacy in Philadelphia by having all three players break his record of 100 points in a single game," said Ross.

While most Miami fans were enthusiastic about the news, many around the league decried the use of such performance enhancing magic in the NBA. "We already have rumors of the Los Angeles Lakers using ancient Egyptian methods to give Kobe Bryant an extra edge," said NBA Commissioner, David Stern. "With so much of sports today cast into doubt, we do not need any performance enhancing magic on the court."

Perhaps the most vehement opponent of the Heat's new tatics, are the Houston Rockets, who appear to be haunted by an apparition, which appears to only appear in the fourth quarter (and by "everything" Yao means "a paranormal demon bent on my destruction [most likely point of entry: the foot]").

All in all, the rest of the season is looking up, if not more interesting. Heat head coach Eric Spoelstra agreed, "Even though we've already tried sacrificing virgins at the altar to satisfy Pat Riley (May he live forever!) and thus extend his life by 50 more years, it seems that it wasn't able to give us an edge against the rest of the Eastern Conference. But, you know, this might be the best thing that's happened to us so far."

LeChris Bowaderon was not available for comment.

Feast and Famine: Longhorns, Aggies, and a Healthy Case of Flip-Flopping

Sorry about the long wait since my last post about the Houston Rockets, but I was taking the rest of the week off, much like the Rockets.  Plus, Nick's posts were difficult to top so I decided to lay low until they blew over.

Someday soon I plan on writing about my personal experiences as a Big 12 South student, seeing as I'm somewhat of an expert (or perhaps just a floozy...I've attended several schools in my collegiate career that directly conflict with each other as Big 12 rivals).  However, in the spirit of Thanksgiving, I want to talk about the quasi-epic showdown going down on Thanksgiving night in Austin, Texas between Texas A&M University and the University of Texas.

This season has been interesting for the Aggies and Longhorns, highlighted by some good coaching decisions (welcome to the field, Tannehill) and some bad player decisions (ehh, Gilbert Grape).  The roles between the two teams have also switched this year, as the unranked Longhorns plan to play spoiler to #17 Texas A&M.  I know how ridiculous it sounds when I say that the Aggies are the favorite to win this Thursday's game.  What am I going to tell you next, that tigers could be extinct soon?  Oh, wait.  To top it all off, this game pits the Smith family against each other in a most unusual way.

With the exception of my Aggie brother-in-law, my family bleeds more burnt orange than Bevo himself.  My dad, who my friends and I lovingly nicknamed Red after his uncanny resemblance to the great character on That 70s Show (seriously, put a full head of hair on Kurtwood Smith and he is my dad), has always taken me to games since I was a little kid.  My mom and sister know more about football than all of the ignorant t-shirt Longhorn fans (you know who you are... and you're the Worst.)  If that's not enough, my great uncle even built the famous fountain outside of the football stadium.  Needless to say, I was raised a Longhorn fan throughout my entire youth, brainwashed so effectively that I decided to attend UT's affiliate school in San Antonio rather than Texas A&M my freshman year in hopes of attending school in Austin my sophomore year.  Long story short, I saw my sophomore self pulling a wild card, reneging on my acceptance letter to UT and instead choosing to attend Oklahoma University.  An even longer and more outlandish story short, I found myself coming full circle at Texas A&M University, the school I had once forsaken, for my junior year.  I was harder to keep in one place than the island on Lost, and despite much playful prodding from friends, I still remain in College Station for my final year.  (Like I said, if you're interested in the longer story, I promise I will go into further detail on the ridiculousness of my situation someday down the road.  If you're not interested, well...here's the Door.)

Saying my collegiate experience has been unconventional is more redundant than saying Bo Pelini has severe anger issues.

Here at Texas A&M, the saying is that 98% of the student body is wholeheartedly invested in the traditions, football yells, and other cult-like happenings at the school...labeling everyone who isn't a "two-percenter."  After years and years of being a Longhorn fan, combined with the one magical year at OU that culminated in driving eighteen hours straight with my friends from Houston to Miami to watch them play in the National Championship game, I was quick to call myself a 2%er here at A&M.  Because as much as I like rooting for my college, I was a little weary of doing the same mundane yells, such as the "BTHO" yell, endless times during Aggie games.   Not to mention that I still think it's more than a little ridiculous that we Aggies feel the need to give UT so much credence by 'sawing Varsity's horns off' and having these decals on our cars.  (Come on, Ags, we're a big-time university.  Let's worry about our own school and stop acting like UT's kid brother.)  However, I have come around during my time here, going as far as preparing to order my Aggie ring and actually having pride in it.  Although I'm still probably a "two-percenter" in the traditional sense, I still think Texas A&M is an incredible university and that there's no school I'd rather be at.  (If none of this makes sense to you, I apologize.  Just know that while I'm not the greatest Aggie, I've come a long way in the past year and a half.  I really couldn't be prouder to be a student at Texas A&M.)

This past weekend proved to be the biggest game for Texas A&M football in over ten years.  Students set a record by pulling over 30,000 tickets to the game vs. #8 Nebraska.  There was more hype and optimism surrounding this game in College Station than there was in Portland after drafting Greg Oden a few years ago.  Although College Gameday unwisely chose to be apart of the circus at Wrigley Field, Herbstreit and Musberger were coming to do the commentary for the game on ABC.  This game was undoubtedly a big deal here.

Yet instead of showing my new found Aggie fandom, I found myself in Austin, Texas, taking in the rather unspectacular game between the Longhorns and the Florida Atlantic Owls.  A family friend from Colorado was visiting Texas for the first time ever and seeing as he is in high school and my parents still consider George Strait cool, I tagged along upon their request to keep him company and help show him around the campus that I spent my entire life thinking I would be attending.  (This included Red pointing out his picture from his intramural basketball team that still hangs in Gregory Gym nearly forty years later, as well as this nonchalant gem--"There's the tower... sometimes people go up there and shoot other people."  My family has a very dark yet hilarious sense of humor.  I love it.) In true 2% fashion, I gave away my student ticket to my final home game in College Station without hesitation.  But despite their continuous gratitude, my parents should know that it isn't necessary, because even if I knew how entertaining the Aggie game was going to be compared to the blow-out game in Austin, I would make the same decision again.  Family comes first.  (Cliche statements come second.)

So this Thanksgiving will once again stir a house divided (I expect the game to be closer than expected, with A&M prevailing in the end), yet at the end of the day I am happy to be blessed with such an awe-inspiring family.  And although my group of best friends are mixed between what feels like every Big 12 school and our allegiances run strong here in the south, I'm grateful that I can call each and every one a friend, even if we are quick to make fun of each other (some more than others).  So love your family and friends this holiday season and enjoy the game.  Happy Thanksgiving everyone.

Oh yeah, and go Ags!

-PB

Chicken Soup for the Cynic's Soul

Hey guys, this is an old Facebook note from around my sophmore year (second year) of college. Hope you enjoy the throwback!

I like to write.

However, I like to threaten to write even more than I like to write.

You see, as much as we hear on the news that math and science testing scores are down, and we need to do as much as we can to prevent this slide, we still reserve a special place in our psyche for writers. If I were to introduce myself as an English major, I’m sure that the cute brunette across from me would have one of two notions:

1) I will live in a cardboard box…but it will be a romantic cardboard box because I will be doing what I love, and nothing is more romantic than self-determination. Not to mention, I will have all the blissful vocabulary in the world to reassure my sweetheart when we have been evicted from that box.

Or…

2) I will live on the Left Bank in Paris, smoking Cuban cigars and traveling to exotic locales such as Madrid, Rome, Rio de Janeiro, and Beijing. All the while, I will shower her with gifts and money. Not to mention, I will have all the blissful vocabulary in the world to reassure my sweetheart when the drug dealers in Rio hijack our car.

Either way, I am perceived as empathetic and expressive, which lends me some sort of value or a type of uniqueness. The common man is more prone to punch out, “Y r u mad @ me” or “Paartyyy at Chriss’s tonite!! Brriing youre money?!?!?!” on a text message than write anything approaching eloquent. So, it at least seems that I have more to offer a girl than most guys. (However, as much as they would like to lead you to believe so, women really don’t care for the liberal-arts-major-type. They much rather go out with an intellectually mediocre man with the F-350 or a Corvette. They, apparently, have more fun or something. But more on that later.) However, more importantly, I perceive myself as to have these qualities, and I then climb aboard a mental train that takes me to some sort of fantasyland. There, visions of literary grandeur float along my mental pages, and I believe that even I could write something that could touch someone or, at the very least, provoke thought.

In short, I feel that I have something to give and that something will be appreciated by others.

Yet there is something inherently wrong with writing. You see, I believe that it took me about 30 to 45 minutes to write all of the above. It takes time and effort to write and, as a college student, I happen to resent both time and effort. For me, it is easier to come up with something beautiful and leave it tucked safely inside my brain than it is to get up and start typing on my computer. Please don’t even talk to me about using a pen and paper. Also, one needs a certain amount of hubris to say words like “one” and “hubris”. I am not always so egotistical.

So, when I threaten to myself that I will write, I experience all the warm and fuzzy emotions of writing without the mess and labor of actual writing. It seems to be the best of both worlds. For example, if I become very perturbed at an article in the newspaper, I simply imagine writing a letter to the editor and envision what I will say. I release all of that pent up anger and yet I still have time to use my brain in a less productive way.

Therefore, barring some unforeseen stroke of inspiration, I don’t write that often. However, just like any good dieter knows, wanting is half the battle.

The Thursday Adventures with Speed Dater

If you go to Texas A&M University and aren't either too pretentious or rich, you most likely ride the bus to class. As a faithful rider of all of my years at college, let me tell you that it is an excercise in both patience and ignorance. You have to be patient because during any given ride you are most likely to have to stand up for 20 minutes with some jock's reeking armpit in your face as country music blares over the PA.

(Sidebar: Don't EVER criticize the driver's choice of music. On the first day of class, I whispered over to Ryan that it should be against Transport Services rules to play such horrible music. The giant standing behind me apparently took issue with this and leaned in saying, "Well, what would you play then?". To which I replied, "Nothing, I can play my own music without having to listen to yours." Much to my chagrin, he was a bus driver and said that it helped them pass the long hours driving. Much to his chagrin, Ryan said, "Well, I'm a bus driver too, and I don't make people put up with that garbage!")

Anyway, on a Thursday early on in the semester, Ryan and I were riding the bus to class, and it was everything that you could ever dream of and more. It was, as usual, packed and because of the 100 F (37 C) weather, the bus was sweltering despite the meager use of AC. Thankfully, the driver was merciful and let us forgo our daily dose of western twang. Per bus etiquitte, everyone was dead silent. Only the hum of the motor pierced the uncomfortable quiet. Little did we know that it was about to become even more uncomfortable.

"So, what kind of music do you like?" The question hit my ears like the clang of a missed granny-shot free throw. It was soon clear that we and everyone else were caught in a long and awkward date taking place on the bus. There he was. There she was. They were sitting across the aisle from each other and every exchange reverberated throughout the bus for all to hear. "I'm more of a country girl myself, but I like to switch it up a bit with some rap and T-Pain at parties. I dunno, I like everything I guess!", she said with perhaps a bit more enthusiasm than she would want to betray. "Really?! Me too!", he said with a bit more enthusiasm than we would like to hear. The date was going well. By all accounts really, it was going spectacularly. She was into him, he was into her, and the conversation was flowing along swimmingly. I, on the other hand, could not contain my bursting laughter.

"Well this puts a whole new meaning to the term 'speed dating'", I said to Ryan. This was perhaps the most awkward bus ride of my life. I felt that I was as much a part of this date as he or she. "Well, Speed Dater, I'm personally a fan of Community and Mad Men. What kind of shows do you watch? ...Oh what's that? You've never seen either one? That's too bad." I honestly wanted to bust in the conversation, "Speed Dater, meet Blah Blah Blah, by the powers invested in me by the Transport Services, I now pronounce you boyfriend and girlfriend." However, I couldn't do this because the date was simply too hilarious. I wanted it to go on. Mostly because I wanted to see the inevitable crash of reality when the girl realized how creepy Speed Dater really was and reject him. (Oh, the glowing embers of a broken heart are so dazzling when seen from afar.)

And so, the date continued. Almost, every topic was touched: Movies, classes, where they were from (He, the Rio Grande Valley; she, doesn't matter. It's not that important.) Finally, as we turned the last corner going onto campus, he looked at her very intently. It was as if something from deep inside of him was boiling up and was about to burst out. He looked at her, looked down at the floor, and back up at her. He hesitated for a second, but went for it anyway. "Well, what are you doing for lunch? I mean, maybe we could grab a bite to eat before class." It obviously caught her off guard. Maybe she didn't realize what Speed Dater's true intentions were. For all she knew, he was simply a nice guy who was being friendly during the stressful first few weeks of the semester. What could be wrong with being friendly?

The slightly pained but pitiful look on her face said it all. But just in case, she said it out loud for him. "Um...I really don't think I have the time to. And anyway, I've already eaten."

Were he a normal man, he would have packed it in and called it a day. But no! This was Speed Dater. Unfazed, he pressed on, this time bringing up the future. "What do you want to do? I want to go to law school. Mostly because I really don't know what else I'll do..." And with that, the bus pulled to the stop and the the doors opened, releasing us from our prisons of forced romance. As I glanced over my shoulder, I saw that they were still chatting as they walked off the bus.

God speed, Speed Dater. God speed. And here's hoping there's bells ringing on the bus after your wedding...

The Tuesday Top Ten: Most Ridiculous Houston Rockets Players

For better or for worse, the Houston Rockets have, in many ways, shaped my life.  My family still loves to tell everyone how I would always cry when they lost growing up ("They just lost to the worst team in the league!") and the image of John Stockton hitting that three pointer on Barkley to go to the NBA Championship still haunts me and, while I am not a psychologist, may very well be the reason why I am still single.  Karl Malone set a moving pick!  (No, I'm not bitter.)  Oh, well, have fun trying to beat Jordan in the next round, Jazz.

The Rockets have had some amazing players over the past fifteen years ("If it's good enough for Scola, then it's good enough for me").  However, as with anything else in life, I find humor in the most bizarre things...so without further ado, here is my list of the most ridiculous players to ever don a Rockets jersey in my lifetime.

 10.  Eric Piatkowski (2003-2004)

 If I was 6'7'', I'm pretty sure I could get away with being the last man on the bench on an NBA team, not to mention take photographs that make me look like I'm a televangelist.  Wait, maybe Piatkowski was on to something.

9. Bonzi Wells (2006-2008)

 Bonzi was in the same mold as Ron Artest, minus the hilarity.  In fact, the two played together in Sacramento, where Bonzi played well enough that Ron Artest offered to forgo his entire salary to keep Bonzi on the team.  Sounds like Crazy Pills (I thought about putting Artest on this list, but decided it would be way too easy).  However, Bonzi felt that the 5 year, $38 million contract the Kings offered prior to the 2006 season was an insult.  His grandiose expectations of landing a bigger contract turned out to be nothing but delusions of grandeur, as Bonzi eventually gave in to the bitter reality that no one else would offer that much and signed a 2 year, $4 million contract with Houston.  This is the same guy who admitted he ate fast food about three times a day when he was a young gun in Portland.  Needless to say, his Rockets career was as random and inconsistent as the meat from Taco Bell and he was eventually shipped to New Orleans.

8. Pete Chilcutt (1994-1996)

Chilly Pete is an NBA champion.  Let that sink in for a moment.  He actually had a surprisingly long-lived NBA career that spanned nearly ten years and seven teams.  He took over for Matt Bullard during the team's second NBA championship season, cementing the myth that as long as you're tall and can shoot there will be a place in the league for you. 


7. Kelvin Cato (1999-2004)

With a top-notch, alliteration-friendly name, not to mention a tie in to an underrated character from Lost, it would have only been fitting for Cato to be the centerpiece for championship-winning Houston teams.  Alas, Cato was a part of the 'blockbuster' trade that sent our two lovable alley-oopers (more on them later) to Orlando for a player who would eventually be nicknamed Knee-Mac.  Sometimes the world isn't fair.

6. The White Point Guards of the Late '90s
Matt Maloney (1996-1999)      Brent Price (1996-1999)       Bryce Drew (1998-2000)

Yeah, these are three separate players, but at the end of the day...are they really?  They single-handedly ruined what could have been a magical run during the twilight of Olajuwon, Drexler, and Barkley's careers.  Maloney, in particular, was absolutely brutalized by John Stockton in the 1997 Western Conference Finals.  If the Rockets had a starting point guard that didn't go to to an Ivy League school, we could have been the team that Chicago destroyed in Jordan's last two championship years!  Brent Price was plagued by injuries during his sporadic NBA career (the knee brace in his player card could not be more fitting), while Bryce Drew was what Gordon Hayward will eventually become: a decent player who was overhyped by an impressive NCAA tournament and later fell into NBA obscurity.

5. Walt Williams (1999-2002)

Walt Williams was the man.  He wore knee-high socks in honor of George Gervin and had an overall old-school feel to his game.  That old-school style included shooting nothing but three pointers and not playing even a hint of actual defense.  Prior to his glory days as a Rocket, Walt was featured in Hootie and the Blowfish's bizarre music video to "I Only Wanna Be With You."  Because anytime you can incorporate Walt Williams, Alonzo Mourning, Dan Marino and ESPN anchors in a music video for a pretty great song that has nothing to do with sports, you've gotta do it.  Oh, the '90s....


4. Eddie Griffin (2002-2003)

Easily the most tragic player on this list, Eddie Griffin had an incredible amount of potential.  He had decent range while possessing an ability to block a basketball that only Kelvin Cato could match.  In order to get him, they traded three draft picks (one of them the rights to Richard Jefferson).  Right in line with most of the moves the Rockets made during this time period, the Eddie Griffin trade did not pan out.  Besides his inconsistent play, Griffin suffered from alcoholism, and the Rockets eventually released him after erratic behavior.  He played his final years in Minnesota.  He was arrested on one occasion for driving under the influence while watching porn in his car.  If that wasn't disturbing enough, Griffin died in 2007 after crashing his car into a moving train, burning to death.  His blood alcohol content was over three times the legal limit.  In other news, Richard Jefferson is still alive.


3. Steve Francis/Cuttino Mobley (1999-2004, Francis - 2008)

The last 'Mobley-jumping-into-or-onto-Francis' picture could not come soon enough.  Looking back at this era, I applaud myself for not jumping off the Rockets ship and straight into a barrel of nitroglycerin.  These lost years were saturated with uncomfortable celebrations, endless answers to interviews starting with "Me and Steve",  and ESPN The Life segments where Cuttino and Steve went to buy matching crotch rockets.  (Believe me, I searched endlessly online for a clip of that glorious episode, but found nothing.  It's probably burning in hell next to Derek Fisher's soul.)  Despite all of the losing and awkwardness, they found the time to somehow master the art of the alley-oop.  The dynamic duo were traded along with Cato for McGrady and others before being separated via another trade in Orlando.  Neither player was the same since...

2. Ryan Bowen (2004-2006)

This one is particularly painful for me.  Not only did he make every guy named "Ryan" seem instantly less talented at basketball, but he shared starting time at power forward with Clarence Weatherspoon during the 2005 playoffs!!  I'm fairly confident I could have matched his averages against the Jazz (18 minutes, 2.6 pts, 2 boards), even if I am nearly a foot shorter and visibly afraid of looking at Carlos Boozer for more than two seconds at a time.  And at least they would have saved money because I'd have played for Scooby Snacks.

1.  Moochie Norris (2000-2003, 2005-2006)

Dear lord, where to begin?  Yes, there was a point in time where the Rockets could send out a who's-who lineup of all-time Rockets greats.  With the Mooch running point with more soul than a 1970s disco dancer, Francis and Mobley lovingly hugging it out after alley-oops, old school Walt Williams launching three after three to no avail, and Griffin and Cato clogging the paint as superbly as a roll of toiler paper,  I honestly can't imagine how the Rockets failed to make the playoffs during that five year span.  Speaking of Moochie, I miss the fro, but not as much as I miss the days when people did this.

Despite my pessimistic tone, I wouldn't change any of these guys.  I'll be a Rockets fan for the rest of my life and if that means having guys like these over players like Luke Walton, I'll be happy.  And just for nostalgia's sake...




-PB

Welcome to Charging Interests!

It would be pretty unconventional to have our second post explain the meaning of the blog, but I'm pretty sure that unconventional posts by our writers here at Charging Interests will be more common than seeing these Turrrible commercials on TV....so here we go.

For the past few months my friends and I have been thinking about writing a sports blog, mainly because we feel that it is absolutely ludicrous that someone as delusional as Colin Cowherd can somehow be considered respectable enough to work for ESPN (not to mention share a show with Michelle Beadle, my future wife).  However, it wasn't until recently that we finally sat down in full-fledged Mad Men mode in order to come up with specifics for our blog.  After a long night of channeling our inner Don Draper,  including gallons of Scotch on the rocks, hundreds of packages of Lucky Strikes, and an overabundance of skinny ties, we had an epiphany: we won't confine ourselves to a sports blog (if you didn't notice from my laughable first post about obscure horror movies), but we'll also write about all things movies, television, college experiences...and maybe an occasional wild card post. 

Hopefully by combining our randomly diverse opinions we can make this blog entertaining and insightful.  If not, we promise to at least make it classy and not the least bit offensive or self-aggrandizing (unless that's what you're into, because we can be pretty good at that, too.)

I hope you guys enjoy it.

-PB

A Halloween Hangover: Top Ten Under-Appreciated Horror Films

 (The Pool Monster from Are You Afraid of The Dark?  My answer as a seven year old boy....yes.)

All my life I've been cursed with an obsession of horror movies.  Maybe it was my sister's fault, seeing as she made me watch the original Halloween when I was six years old.  No matter how long I stayed under my covers in bed from then on out, I was positive the Boogeyman was standing right inside my closet.  Or maybe it was the time I snuck a viewing of Scream on Pay Per View when I was eight (no, I didn't pay for it, but I did watch it on the blurred-out channel with sound that PPV movies were on before DirecTV existed).  Anytime a phone rang in my house after that, you couldn't tell me that it wasn't someone calling from the front porch.  I remember the old newspapers used to come out with TV Guides every Sunday and I would always excitedly check to see if there were any listings for my favorite horror movies with my childhood best friend Reid.  I was like Captain Ahab, except that instead of looking for a white whale, I was looking for Chucky from Child's Play. 

Needless to say, I'm still interested in watching these abominations.  However, after spending most of my life watching these movies I have become more than a little bit desensitized to the effects of horror movies.  The last movie that I actually scared me in a movie theater was The Ring (I know, I'm a little girl, but you tell a 7th grade boy to walk into a pitch black house at 10:30 PM after seeing someone creep out of a television and kill everyone.  I did watch that weird tape during the movie after all, you know.  Plus, I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to be out past 10.)  Nowadays my friends and I watch horror movies for the unintentional comedy.  Yes, I was the guy who bought bootlegged copies of Goosebumps and Are You Afraid of the Dark DVD's at the age of 20 just so we could laugh at them (who wouldn't have fun with that?)  Which brings me to the point of this inaugural post.  Even though Halloween was nearly two weeks ago, I have been itching like a hound to give you the readers a list of my favorite under-appreciated horror movies.  It's imperative to note that these movies range from creepily scary to creepily hilarious and that many of these movies won't be found at your local Hollywood Video.  Then again, what is at Hollywood Video anymore?

*Please don't watch these with your families.  I don't want to be held responsible when you realize that having your kids watch movies like this might lead to them compiling a ridiculous list of horror movies fifteen years later.


10. Magic (1978) - Directed by Richard Attenborough.  Starring Anthony Hopkins, Ann-Margret, Burgess Meredith

More of a melodrama than a horror movie, this movie stars three of my favorite actors (two of which can be purely attributed to Grumpy Old Men).  Based on a recommendation from my friend Cale, this movie was surprisingly intense with plenty of comedic elements and a constant sense of confusion (much like a typical Texas Aggies football season).  Without giving too much away, I'll just say that this: it gives a whole new meaning to harmonica music for me.
*Bonus Points: I watched this movie with a great group of friends on a particularly freezing MLK weekend at our infamous lake house in Austin, affectionately nicknamed The Hydra Station (more on that later).  Because of the cold weather and this silly movie, there may or may not have been a cute girl at the Hydra that I was able to get cozy with.  So melodrama or not, this movie makes my list...Thanks, Hopkins!

9. The Prowler (1981) - Directed by Joseph Zito.  Starring Vicky Dawson, Christopher Goutman

I had never heard of this movie until recently, so for those of you who have been on The Prowler bandwagon for years, I apologize.  One of the major things I got from this movie was the prowess of special effects man Tom Savini.  I had seen a few movies of his, including Friday the 13th and The Burning, but it wasn't until this (as well as this Wikipedia page) that I realized how 'realistic' his works are.  The movie revolves around a killer dressed in vintage military attire who hunts kids as they prepare for a dance.  The dance is complete with a rocking '80s band (completely necessary for an '80s horror movie), and some creative kills, the last of which is explosive and mildly hilarious.


8. Amusement (2009) Directed by John Simpson.  Starring Keir O'Donnell, Katheryn Winnick, Jessica Lucas.

My first advice for most movies is to not watch the preview.  ( know I have attached links to some of the trailers for these movies, but it's my first ever post and I'm excited to use all of the features, so give me a break).  Many times, lower budget movies are the worst films to watch previews for because it's common for the editors to confuse "preview" with "summary of movie in two minutes".  I saw this movie at the store a few times and immediately laughed at the front cover.  However, when I finally sold out and watched it, I became a huge fan.  Not just because Katheryn Winnick might be the most gorgeous girl in any of the movies on this list, but also because I now find Keir O'Donnell frightening for a completely different reason other than his role as the creepy younger brother in Wedding Crashers.
*I looked up Katheryn Winnick to see if she had been in any other movies than this one...and found a little film called Satan's Little Helper.  After about 5 minutes I had to stop because I quickly realized I need my friends because I am NOT getting through that one alone..

7. Candyman (1992) - Directed by Bernard Rose.  Starring Virginia Madsen, Tony Todd, Xander Berkeley

Tony Todd is perfect for this role. The premise is an old urban legend that is very similar to "Bloody Mary", based on a short story by the dude who came up with Hellraiser.  Half of the creepiness isn't just the Candyman himself, but the urban setting that the characters are placed in.  Coming from a guy who lived in the suburbs his whole life, I know I wouldn't want to explore the projects like Virginia Madsen bravely does.  This movie isn't without its unintentional humor, because any time you can fly out of a window backwards, you've gotta do it.
*On another trip to the Hydra, my friend Janisch got a friend of a friend, who was a complete stranger to all of us, to turn out the bathroom lights and say "Candyman" three times in front of the mirror.  When she found out why he made her do it, she left the next day and none of us have seen her since.  (Maybe we haven't seen her ever again because she goes to a completely different school, but that notion severely hurts my implication that the Candyman got her, so I'll leave that part out).

6. Cube (1997) - Directed by Vincenzo Natali.  Starring Nicole de Boer, Maurice Dean Wint.

Ah, Cube, one of the best movies nobody has ever heard of.  My friends Wellborn and Heather clued me in to this vastly underrated movie that had all of the best parts of the Saw series (traps and twists), and only some of the worst parts (not nearly as much over-the-top gore is a plus; some baaaad sequels are a negative).  However, Cube, a mysterious Canadian film that takes place entirely inside a seemingly never-ending, ahem, cube, will keep you on the edge of your seat while remaining more disorienting than the idea of Zach Randolph being an NBA all-star.

5. Hatchet (2006) - Directed by Adam Green.  Starring Joel Moore, Tamera Feldman, Deon Richmond

No, this is not based on the kid's book by Gary Paulsen. What this movie lacks in plane crash surviving children it makes up for with an overabundance of gore.  Hatchet is the epitome of this list.  With some surprisingly hilarious characters and plenty of thrills, this film's tagline "old school American horror" is true to the bone.  Taking place during Marti Gras in Louisiana, the film's hatchet-wielding murderer, Victor Crowley (portrayed by former Jason Vorhees, Kane Hodder), goes to incredible lengths to get his kills taken care of, all of which I'll leave out for my family's sake of reading this post.  So watch out for over-the-top massacring and high-profile horror icon cameos, including Robert Englund and Tony Todd. 

4. Sleepaway Camp (1983) - Directed by Robert Hiltzik.  Starring Felissa Rose, Mike Kellin

This "campy" cult classic is most notable for it's shocking twist ending.  Yes, the ending was such a surprise that I would have ranked Sleepaway Camp this highly without even seeing the rest of the movie.  However, there are plenty of things present in this film other than the big surprise that you would want in any horror movie.  Whether it's the sleazy cook getting a pot of boiling water to the face or the surprisingly childish slutty girl getting a not-so-blog-friendly demise in her cabin, this movie is the type of campy horror film that Hatchet emulates.  Needless to say, go into this movie without reading anything about it, otherwise you'll be as disappointed as I was the time my friend Janisch ruined the ridiculous ending to Orphan for me the day I was going to see it.  You're the worst J-Train, that movie would have been awesome.

3a. Wrong Turn (2003) - Directed by Rob Schmidt.  Starring Eliza Dushku, Desmond Harrington, Emmanuelle Chriqui
3b. Cabin Fever (2003) - Directed by Eli Roth.  Starring Rider Strong, Jordan Ladd, James DeBello

These two movies will forever be interchangeable amongst me and my friends.  I had just finished my last day of school in 8th grade and my friends and I thought we would be really cool if we snuck into that horror movie starring Shawn from Boy Meets World.  Much to our surprise, we saw the previews to that movie, Cabin Fever, while we waited to see something called Wrong Turn.  After our initial disappointment, we were relieved when the actual movie we saw turned out to be both hilarious and scary, an obvious prerequisite for any good horror movie.  Although laughing at inbreeding may not be politically correct, I'm not a politician, so I'll continue to laugh away.
When I finally got the chance to see Cabin Fever, I was just as impressed.  Eli Roth's directorial debut was both disturbing and funny, and both movies I felt like I really connected with the characters and lamented their impending deaths, with the exception of this guy.

2. Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (2006) - Directed by Scott Glosserman.  Starring Nathan Baesel, Robert Englund, Angela Goethals

More intentionally funny than the rest of the movies in this post, Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon is a smart, creative horror movie that plays on the genre's norms.  The film revolves around a film crew that is making a documentary on a prospective serial killer as he prepares for a killing spree while revealing tricks of the trade.  Leslie Vernon has an uncanny ability to draw the audience in with his macabre humor, including his humorous take on how much cardio serial killers must do in order to maintain a slow, menacing appearance.  Robert Englund's character's less-than-subtle homage to Dr. Loomis is the icing to the cake for this gem that will surprise you with its originality.

1. The Burning (1981) - Directed by Tony Maylam.  Starring Brian Matthews, Leah Ayres, and Brian Backer.

The Burning has anything and everything you would want from an '80s slasher film.  This is one of the more underrated killers of its time, starting with his awesome origin (hey man, if you're on fire: stop, drop, and roll), his name (can there really be a better name for a serial killer than Cropsy?), or his method of killing (suffice it to say, this movie is shear terror).  Jason Alexander makes his film debut and it's as if it's George Costanza himself at the doomed summer camp, as he is nearly identical to Seinfeld's best friend, though this was filmed nearly ten years before.  I almost expected Kramer and Newman to arrive at the camp at some point to be sheared to death by Cropsy.  Holly Hunter also makes her screen debut, although after seeing the movie twice I'm still at a loss as to who exactly she is (I am not a Saving Grace aficionado, I guess).  Plus, you can never count out seeing a young George Minkowski from Lost getting his hand chopped off (sorry for the spoiler, but the reference had to be done).  Overall, my favorite underrated horror film of all time.
*Bonus points to this movie for Alfred, portrayed by Fast Times' Brian Backer.  He is a spitting image of my friend Wellborn, so of course when his character turned out to be nearly as creepy and awkward as Cropsy himself, my friends and I let him have it. 

After all of my utter nonsense, I think it's necessary to point out that you can't expect these movies to be as incredible as the more well known horror classics.  At the end of the day, there's probably a reason why most of these movies have fallen through the cracks into obscurity.  However, if you go into these movies with low expectations (especially with a group of friends with a sense of humor), you might be surprised at how much you like them.

-PB