And The Winner Is ...

So let's talk Elm City Cocktail Competition, OK? Register food columnist Stephen Fries invited me to judge this a couple months ago, and that's a good thing because I came to a major, major conclusion: I can consume some mixed drinks without making funny faces. I'm serious. It's possible.

I'm a beer guy. You pour me a good ale, and you'll have my heart forever. Sadly, none of the nine bars that competed in this first annual event gave me a Dale's Pale Ale in a martini glass or anything. I had to drink (some of) nine cocktails. I haven't had nine real cocktails in my life. Well, maybe I have, but it's really, really close.

Out of all the entrees, the one that scared me the most beforehand was coming from Leon's, a little concoction that included cucumber, my mortal nemesis. I did not like that drink. It turns out, Bespoke won the event. I have to say, that drink tasted like a Sour Patch Kid to me. It wasn't that great. Way too sweet. Way too sweet.

Personally, I was a big fan of the drinks poured by the very nice people over at BAR, Bar 19 and 116 Crown. I guess I like things with "bar" and numbers in the name. Who knew?

The big surprise, to me, was that I tended to like the manly drinks. I had a feeling I'd like the girl-friendly stuff because, you know, I don't do mixed drinks and fondly remember $1 mixed drink nights freshman year Providence College. I personally consumed many, many screwdrivers and Midori sours. Girly. I grew out of that crap quickly though. At this event, I liked the stuff with whiskey and bourbon best. That's amazing to me.

That’s what you all missed today. You might regret that, but you certainly shouldn’t regret the heartburn that I got. Too many acidic drinks left me with some burn. But it’s good burn because, you know, now I'm officially an adult. I can drink a cocktail without making a funny face. Woo hoo.

Technical Difficulties

OK, a couple things.

Mark over Manic Productions just texted me so that I would remind everyone that the very funny Neil Hamburger is over at Cafe Nine tonight. What I would add to this is JP Incorporated is opening. I've written about him before. Hysterical.

On to the difficulties, I'm trying to make this blog wider, but can't figure out how to make this border wider, so there's a line in the middle of the posts. Does anyone know how to fix this? Later, aligators.

Tonight, On 'The Needle Drop'

If you're looking for something to do tonight, I highly recommend buying some beer, building a fire and listening to Eric Danton and I guest on "The Needle Drop," the music show hosted by Anthony Fantano on WNPR. The show airs at 10 p.m. tonight on 90.5 FM out of Hartford. We had fun recording our segment yesterday.

What else? Well, I'm back in Boston for a cousin's engagement party. Woo hoo. Just a reminder, if you're interested in giving to charity and drinking some booze, I'll be a "celebrity" judge at tomorrow's first annual Elm City Cocktail Competition. The event kicks off Restaurant Week. I like food. I like alcohol. It's truly a no brainer.

But, yeah, the event's for charity and only costs $30. You'll get to drink and eat. You can't go wrong. Oh, and you can also corner me and make me answer questions. That should make the cost no big deal, too. See you there, OK?

The Bare Facts

So let me try to put this into words:

I would rather walk barefoot over hot coals than see Barefoot Truth again.

I would rather walk barefoot through a whole lot of goat poop than see Barefoot Truth again.

I would rather eat a bucket of mayo while barefoot than see Barefoot Truth again.

I would rather have my head chopped off while barefoot than see Barefoot Truth again.

You get the point, right?

For a variety of reasons, I saw Barefoot Truth in the Lily Pad at Toad's Place last night. For a variety of reasons, I didn't enjoy this particular experience. Not one bit. The only thing that made it even the tiniest bit tolerable was the particularly crazy woman who was standing in front of me.

Before we get to her, though, let's talk about my personal nightmare. Most people reading this have probably learned over the past six or so years how much I hate jam bands. Now, wait, let me say there are exceptions, but not many.

So you probably think that's my least favorite type of music. You'd be wrong. I really, really hate white-boy reggae. More than anything. Frat boys who grew up listening to Bob Marley trying to play a bastardization of Marley and Mayer ... well, that's my personal hell. Maybe I'm going there someday (I doubt it; I'm a nice person), but I should not have to visit now.

Barefoot Truth manages to synthesize all three: Marley, Mayer and the Allmans. But all three of those acts have some decent characteristics. This band, which formed in Connecticut a few years back, neuters them all. There’s nothing dangerous here, just some bland music and more lyrical cliches than you can count.

Watching the guys play - and I'm sure they're all nice people - I couldn't help but feel the only people, by and large, that could like this music is college girls and older people who think it might be cool. I know that sounds harsh, and it is to a point, but I sure had that feeling numerous times last night.

Now, there are some good things to talk about. These guys are all good musicians. The singer has a good voice, even if he hasn't found anything close to a unique way to deliver it.

Why try so hard to sound like other people? Why try to make your pretty-boy folk have a reggae tinge? Why? Why? Why? Why have band members switch instruments when it only lessens the level of play in both cases? Why do a cover medley of old R&B songs mixed with Sir Mix-a-Lot? It's a lazy way to get laughs and, more importantly, it's borderline insulting. Why did HBO just begin playing "Sweet November"? Why? Why? Why?

Look, I know I’m just crapping on a band here, but, of course, if you play music in public you should know some a-hole critic might be watching. I just don’t understand why bands are so happy to be completely ordinary. Do you really want to sound like DMB without any kind of testosterone? Do you really want to sing like you’re Bob Marley and constantly mock Beenie Man (who was playing the main room downstairs) during your set? When you can only hope that someday your crappy take on reggae can even be in a conversation with Beenie Man?

Every one of the band members has talent. They should use it to find their own voice. Or, just keep on going doing this thing, playing to a rotating group of college girls who, while you get older, they stay the same age.

Wait, maybe I have the wrong idea here? Maybe Barefoot Truth is a lot smarter than me.

The End?

Well, last night was probably Pedro Martinez's last professional game. That's not an absolute, but, sadly, it is more than likely.

He's my favorite athlete of all time; and it makes me sad to think that was it. So, because of the end, here's Jonah Keri's piece about the greatest pitcher to ever play.

More later, but this needed to be put up now. Woo hoo.

Tweet Tweet

OK, so I'm not sure how I'm going to feel about this in the morning. I may wake up and do the proverbial walk of shame in my head. I may wake up and want to vomit. I may wake up and not want to look at myself in the mirror. There are a whole lot of things that I may want to do, but I have decided to become a Twitterer.

I will tweet, or whatever. I feel dumb just saying that, but it's come to the point where I feel like I'm missing out on something. Whenever that happens, my natural intellectual curiosity gets the better of me.

With that said, I feel I should warn you: There won't be anything very "intellectual" going on in my tweets. This is going to be purely for my own enjoyment. Fun, little dumb jokes.

Anyway, you can follow me @patferrucci. Let's get me some followers. Deal? I'm watching basketball right now, so ...

What I Saw

What I really want to talk about today is "The Joe Schmo Show: Season 2." Yep, we're going back to dark days of 2004 for this post.

I was recently told to check out this show. Correction: I was recently told that I needed to see this show. I was told it would change my life.

Five years ago, I didn't know it existed. I remember the first season of "Joe Schmo." It was OK. I laughed a bit. I had no idea a sequel was made. Now I believe that the sequel might be the funniest thing I've ever seen in my life. That might be a bit hyperbolic, but I'm dead serious.

The DVDs came out over the summer, but I was told only last week about them. I put the series in my Netflix queue and the first disc of the set arrived at my apartment Saturday. Life has not been the same since. I don't want this to end. I want to savor each and every episode. I watched one at 8 a.m. this morning, and I bet I woke up the neighbors laughing. Loudly. Howling, really. Tears. Lots of them.

So, basically, in case you don't know, the premise of "Joe Schmo 2" is that two regular people are invited to be part of a dating reality show very much like "The Bachelor." The only thing is that everyone else is an actor. Everyone. The bachelor. The bachelorette. The other contestants. The host. All of it. It's very "Truman Show" like. The cast does hilarious things to get a rise out of the two people who believe everything to be true.

I can't even explain the crap that goes down. Basically, every stereotype is amped up. Every thing ridiculous that's a little subtle on a show on ABC is the furthest thing from subtle on this program, which originally aired on Spike. Seriously, I can quite make it clear how amazingly awesome each and every moment is, how much I laugh and laugh.

Here's a clip. Just watch:



On another note, over the last few days, I've seen three movies: "Zombieland," "Paranormal Activity" and "A Serious Man." Let me just say that I wholeheartedly recommend "Zombieland," which is a truly comedic romp of energy. I'm not a big zombie guy, but this one won over my heart. I was laughing throughout.

"Paranormal" is something to see this week, what with Halloween being all the rage and everything. Yet I can't really tell people to check out "A Serious Man," the newest Coen brothers flick. It was weird. And with repeated viewings it might turn out to be good, but I'm not so sure. The jury's out.

I guess that's basically it for today. Mount Eerie and Tara Jane O'Neil are The Space tonight. That's a show you don't want to miss. Seriously.

A Happy Return To The Living

"Let's just talk about what I can do for you."

Those were the magic words whispered to me last week. No, I was not visiting a prostitute. I was actually on the phone with a lovely person with a Southern accent. She's an employee of Comcast. You see, last Friday I got my cable bill and it had gone up by almost double. This wasn't acceptable. I called Comcast.

I guess some promotion that I was enjoying (for the last three years?) ended. Before I phoned the cable company, I took a brief look at the DirecTV Web site to see prices. Before the lady said those words above into my ear, I said, "I don't understand why it's not in my best interest to just get satellite."

That's when she started to debate the merits of satellite vs. cable. After I rebutted one of her claims, she said, "I don't want to have this debate with you. Let's just talk about what I can do for you." Woo hoo.

What this meant was a major reduction in price for me, plus a long period of time with every single movie channel. I am having a hard time leaving my couch. I'm pissed off right now, wondering who Kevin Costner (that's him above!) voted for at the end of "Swing Vote." Why didn't they tell me? Damn them. I just saw a preview for "Paul Blart." On Sunday, I watched "Curb Your Enthusiasm" when it was actually on! I don't think I've done that since 2002 or something. Amazing.

Why am I sharing this little story? Well, someone once told me about doing this, which is why I called last Friday. With all the competition out there now, cable is not a monopoly. You have choices. You can haggle over prices. You can quote competitors' prices. It's OK. Go for it. There are now too many movies on-demand, at my fingertips. It's scary. I may call in sick next week.

I'm not going to bother catching you all up on why I've been MIA the last couple weeks. Let's just say I was a very busy boy. Lots of work, lots of school work, I'm playing in a fall softball league, tons of shows, good music in the mail ... Oh, wow, did I just catch you guys up? Look at that. Oh, I forgot that I've been in mourning over the Red Sox, too. Plus, baseball playoffs are my favorite time of the year, Sox or not.

By the way, did any of you see this story from our paper last week? Is there a funnier vision than a guy dressed as a ninja claiming he wants to beat up Senator Lieberman? I don't believe so. No, I don't. The guy took my Halloween costume. I've always wanted to be a robot ninja programmed to end Joe Lieberman. Damn dude ruined everything.

That's all I got for now, but speaking of Halloween, let me leave you with a scene from my favorite horror movie of all time, 1981's "Student Bodies." We'll talk tomorrow. I promise with all my heart.

Guns And Stuff

I'm not much of a proponent of gun laws. I'm the kind of guy who believes in an evolving Constitution, one that realizes that maybe, just maybe, the laws and ideas of the Founding Fathers back in the 18th century may not work in the 21st.

My stance on right to bear arms varies by the day. I can admit that. I don't know the answer.

I know I love coffee. I don't know whether guns should be illegal or whether making them illegal would change anything. I know if coffee was made illegal, it would change me. I'd be an unhappy guy that constantly sobbed in the streets. That's true.

Anyway, I do know that world was a far different place when the Second Amendment was written. We've changed the Constitution a whole lot since the 18th century, but haven't changed this. Now, semi-automatic weapons are legal. One thing I know is that shouldn't be the case.

Why am I going on about guns? Because I read this story today. For some reason, I missed the stories last year, the ones that told of Meleanie Hain bringing her gun to her kids' soccer practice. Well, now she's been killed by her husband in a murder/suicide.

I just think it'd be really hard for folks to commit these crimes if they had no gun.

Just look at the photo of Hain above. I mean, that's just batpoop nuts. I could make a lot more jokes if the woman wasn't killed yesterday, but I feel like if you're packing heat everywhere you go, you have a much better chance of being shot than I do, a guy who packs nothing. No heat here.

Guns to soccer games though? Huh? I mean, did she expect one of the kiddies to bite her leg? I just think this is all something to think about. I have no answers.

I do know this answer: Did the Red Sox win last night? No they did not. I cried like a baby. I'm very excited about tonight's contest. We'll see.

Playoffs? Playoffs!

Well, hello all my friends out in the cyber world. How's it going? Sorry it's been so long. As you probably could have guessed, the week after I get off vacation is always hellish. I've been catching up and doing a whole lot of schoolwork ... so the children don't suffer, of course.

Anyway, I'm good now. Promise. It took a little more than a week, but I'm caught up on work, school, sleep and whatever else people catch up on. And it's no coincidence that happened today. I've been planning my grand return, getting tons of things done in order to be able to say this: I can concentrate on the baseball playoffs now. Woo hoo. I love baseball. I love the playoffs. I'm a happy, happy boy.

I'm even skipping a chance to head to Toad's tonight to see Dinosaur Jr., one of my all-time favorite bands. Of course, if you're not a baseball junkie, you better be on York Street tonight. You better, you better, you bet. Or whatever.

So what else is new? Not much really. I had a great vacation, going from New Haven to Boston to Kansas City to Columbia to Kansas City to Dallas to Boston to New Haven. That's a lot of traveling for one week. I didn't do one bit of work while I was gone. I think that's the first time I've ever gone on vacation and not done anything. Of course, this meant plenty of catching up.

So that's all I got for right now. I'm going to type playoff predictions in a second. Oh, and by the way, the best part about the last couple weeks? My Pavement tickets came in the mail. Yep, I bought tickets. Couldn't chance it. Here's a Pavement video. Woo hoo.