First, watch this video. It is truly the saddest thing I have ever watched.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMv9d1pIoBA

Now let me tell you a tale. If you know me well enough that you're going to see me in real life at some point, have me tell you this one. My stories are much better in person.

This comes from a message I sent to Chuck but I thought I'd share it with everyone.

Late on night in 2003, coming home form work on the Orange Line, I was on the last Orange Line train out to Oak Grove station. I lived in Malden at the time with my cousin Kim. It was around midnight. I was alone in the car. I was exhausted and kind of fading in and out. I was shaken awake by the movement of the train and the announcement that were about to pull into Downtown Crossing.

Suddenly, as the train approached the station, I heard a low roar. Like a cycle tone that was barely audible. Almost white noise. It was loud, in a way, because it could be heard over the train rumbling.

As we pulled into the station I saw the reason for the noise. It was them. The ICP hordes. HORDES. The entire platform was full of teenaged, face-painted, hoodie-wearing kids. At first I thought..."The Kiss Army?"

I should've been so lucky. No. It was indeed the Juggalos and their sad female counterparts the Juggalettes. In numbers higher than you can dial, to quote the Beastie Boys. They busted onto the train like water through a vent. They were like an infestation of insects. They were trampling each other, shoving each other out of the way, and "singing" ICP as they did it. Literally all of them were singing. Groups of them were singing different songs from other groups and they were trying to shout down the other groups.

A fat one, aged I'd say 14 or 15, in full clown paint and a shirt reading "ICP 4 LYFE" (home made) reached into his bag and pulled out some RC Cola bottles. He shook them and started spraying his fellow "humans" with the bottles. I thought a fight would break out. Instead girls started getting in the way so their clothes would get soaked. A new song went up, this time from the entire assemblage.

I stood off to the side in complete awe. I felt like the adventurers in "King Kong" when they find the cannibal tribe. The ICP minions had not, as of yet, noticed me. My mind raced with ideas. Should I get off at the next spot? No, no, I couldn't. I need to go all the way to the end (in Malden) and we were still in Boston. I didn't have money for cab fare. There were no other trains. This was it. I was locked in with the Juggalos.

I thought maybe some would get off at each stop. Perhaps after 2 or 3 stops the car would be only half-full and I would be free. No such luck. Stop after stop passed and not a single face-painted asshat got off. Suddenly it dawned upon me. Why would they? Juggalos aren't from the city. They're not from the 'hood. THEY'RE FROM THE SUBURBS. Which is where I was going. Malden. Oh dear God, I thought to myself.

We went stop after stop. Kids hung from the handlebars like monkeys. Girls were literally crowd-surfed over the gathering. I hoped for the door to the cabin to open and a T employee to come out but then I recalled as I got on that the small cabin was empty. We rattled on through Boston and then Charlestown. I had gone to white trash hell.

Then they turned upon me. "Look at this Fonzi motherfucker," one skinny girl with her braces showing said to who I assumed was her boyfriend. He, another...shall we say "husky" fellow (also face-painted) began to make odd hooting noises at me not unlike a gorilla. Then a song went up. These people sing more than soccer fans. It was obviously aimed at me judging from the fingers being pointed.

I figured there were probably 50 or 60 of them and just me. They were all, as I said, teenagers but in numbers that large I was bound to get hurt somehow. I tensed up and waited for the first one to make his move. I stood up slowly and said as calmly as I could, "come on you Kiss poseur motherfuckers."

A few challenged me verbally. The usual questions of my parentage, sexual orientation, and size of my tackle box. As the insults flew the automated voice kicked in. "Oak Grove station, last stop."

Then it was over. I was suddenly ignored and as the doors opened the clown horde flowed like a swarm of hip hop locusts out and into the station. I walked behind them. The parking lot was full of minivans. In groups of 5 to 10 the horde broke up and got into them. The others disappeared like cockroaches up side-streets. The ICP Nation had returned to their dominion.

3 months later it happened AGAIN but that's another story.

Oh that's right boys and ghouls, your favorite neighbor '70s punk is gainfully employed by none other than the Museum Of Fine Arts, Boston. Read that one more time. How funny is that?

Basically I take people on tours every once and awhile but mainly I work with the members (normally the richer old ones) making sure they've got their tickets and whatnot. It's pathetically simple and the people I work with are awesome folks. Plus the steady flow of hot (HOT) MassArt girls from up the street does not hurt in the slightest.

Not bad for ol' Jim, eh?!

I just wish I didn't have wear a suit and tie...

If you don't like soccer, don't keep reading. I just tried to post this and then the computer went down and lost it, so now I'm really pissed off.

As some of you may know my English football team is Newcastle United FC. The Magpies (our shirts have vertical black and white stripes). The Toon (that's "town" pronounced in the thick Northern accent of those from Newcastle and it's surrounds). A old, proud team. Founded in 1892. A team that does one thing really, really well. Reach into your chest and crush your heart. The last time we won the league? 1927. NINETEEN GODDAMN TWENTY SEVEN. The FA Cup? Oh we had a great run in the FA Cup...in the Fifties. The last time that mug came home to St. James Park was 1955. The British were still rationing food as if the war was still on in 1955. The last time we won anything, anything at all, was the Inter-Cities Fairs Cup (now called the UEFA Cup) in 1969.

This is all in a football set-up with more silverware than a restaurant. FA Cup, League Cup, Carling Cup, LDV Vans Trophy, it goes on and on. We have perfected the art of being the runner-up (or choking). Our hated rivals Sunderland AFC have basically done one thing...win the FA Cup after us. 1973. They talk about it like it was yesterday. Bastards.

I should have known better than to fall in love with this team. A team that's known for falling short yet is supported by a psychotically loyal fanbase from the northern reaches of their country? Who does that sound like?

I'm from Boston, loving heartbreakers comes with the territory. But oh, fall for them I did. Like a redhead or a girl with a good record collection (or both). The end result is the same- they kill ya. Everytime. We once lost in the FA Cup to Wolves. WOLVES. The Wolverhampton motherfucking Wanderers. We were in the upper reaches of the Premiership and they were barely keeping their ugly-orange-kit-wearing selves above relegation water in Division One. Craig Bellamy pointed to his Premier League badge as he walked off the field as if to say, "Well we're higher up the chain than you." He completely missed the point of THAT'S WHY YOU SHOULD HAVE WON. We shipped his sheepshagging Welsh ass to Scotland and not a moment too soon. 

But that's how the story goes. They assemble world class talent and make you think that this year, maybe this year, they'll bring home some kind of silverware. I don't care what it is. None of us do. But they always come back empty-handed (and usually fairly bloodied) and we always hang our heads and say "Never again." But then the next season starts and it's "Off to Blaydon Races" (the team song) all over again. Notable examples:

1995: 15 points clear at the top of the league at Christmas. Lost it to Manchester United by 4 points.

1974 and 1976: Led by Malcolm "Supermac" Macdonald (the second best player in NUFC history after "Wor" Jackie Milburn and in front of current captain Alan Shearer), we go to the FA Cup Final and League Cup Final. Liverpool and Manchester City win, respectively.

1972: In one of the biggest shock losses in FA Cup history, Hereford United (at the time in the old 4th Division) knocked us out. We were in the old First Division.

I know I don't live in England, my pain can't compare to those who live within subway distance of St. James Park. However I will say I love them as much as anyone who wasn't born there or lives there can possibly love them. A lot of my friends follow English football, we have a little mini-community. I know all the legends, all the stories (good and bad, mainly bad), all that stuff. I feel as much a "Geordie" (someone from Newcastle) as anyone.

Anyway I'll try and get to my point. We used to be coached by Sir Bobby Robson. Football's own Yogi Berra. Robson's famous quote is, "The first 90 minutes are most important." If you don't know, the game is only 90 minutes long. Oh we loved Bobby. Bobby got us into Europe a few times. We beat Italian giants Juventus, 1-0, at home in 2002. We got into the semifinals of the UEFA in 2003/2004. We finished 5th (5th!) that season. Then we got rid of Bobby. Of course it didn't make any sense, this my son is Newcastle. Our chairman (Freddy Sheperd) once told a reporter that Alan Shearer (all time leading goalscorer in Premiership history and former captain of England) was bad, that he did his whoring abroad because Geordie girls are hideous, and that we must all be stupid for buying replica shirts every year.

Last year we finished a whopping 14th under the "guidance" of Graeme Souness. Here we come to the point. If Souey hasn't fucked up your team, count your blessings. How the man took a team that only a few scant seasons prior was running riot across Europe like the fucking Vikings to where the loyal Toon Army is worrying about relegation (!!!) I will never, ever know. They finally sacked him, thank the Lord High God.

I have totally written this season off. The best we can do in Shearer's last campaign is win the FA Cup and I hold out no great hopes of that. They should have won something for the man. They should have won something for us. I don't know who's going to come in next. Rumors are flying (as they always do in English football) with lots of names mentioned. I don't know who would want to take over the craziness that is NUFC. The most insanely loyal fanbase in football...but cross them and they'll make your life hell. An embarassment of riches as far as talent goes but the mental attitude of 80s metal stars.

As long as Souness is gone, I'm happy. At least happy-ER. It's the only highlight of this season.

P.S. If you'd like to see the thing that sums up the recent past of my beloved team you need go no further than the on the field fight between Kieron Dyer and Lee Bowyer. Yes, they were on the same team.

...when you go to a bar and the doorman doesn't card you (says, "Jim what are you kidding? I know who you are!") and the bartender yells across a crowded room, "Oh my god, you're back! We missed you!"...? Nah, I didn't think so either. God I love PJ Kilroy's.

Yeah, so first I was putting away Massachusetts’ copy of the Bill Of Rights (and by copy, I mean the man who wrote it sat down and wrote out the same thing over and over, 13 times. Not like a photocopy, kids. The real deal Holyfield.) Then I was taking out Paul Revere’s bill for his “midnight ride” (shout out to my Midnight Riders homies, I sang “From The Halls Of Foxboro Stadium” while walking the halls with it). What, you thought he did it for free? He tried to pad it too! Revere tried to overcharge the state!

Then I was putting away Sacco & Vanzetti’s death warrant. Oh, and the 1620 charter and the state constitution (the oldest constitution in the world, that one)- yeah I know where those are. Brought those out for a touring group. 

Best part? Two words: Hessian musket. Only 2 exist in the world and the other is in a private collection in Connecticut. By year’s end, I am promised, a picture of me brandishing that bad boy shall exist. 

I love my job.

As you may or may not know, I am a supporter of the local pro soccer team, the New England Revolution. As you may or may not know, they played today in the championship. The 10th MLS Cup final. We faced our old nemesis, the Los Angeles Galaxy who beat us in the same event 3 years ago.

As you may or may not know, the Revs went down like dogs in double OT (like last time) off a goal by a guy from Guatamala (like last time).

As you may or may not know, I am crushed.

 

 

11 friggin seconds left and the B's piss it away to the Habs at home in front of a sellout crowd. Nice to know things haven't changed that much. More reason to hate the Canadiens. As if I needed more reasons.

Bloody FINALLY. Tonight, after the stupid malarkey about lockouts and all that, business may resume. They've started off the right way. My beloved Boston Bruins versus our ancient, evil, and French enemies the Montreal Canadiens. The Black'n'Gold versus the Rouge, Bleu, Blanc. Two of the oldest teams in the NHL with enough history to fill 20 books (and they have). I don't know how these new rule chnages will affect the game. I'm not I'm even in favor of half of them. The easiest way to make the game faster without monkeying with the rules would have been to just make the ice international size. Hard to pull off a neutral zone trap when the neutral zone is the size of Lake Champlain. It'd also help out when NHLers play in the Olympics. The problem is your average NHLer is now the size of a medium sized NFL linebacker. Bigger guys make less room. But anyway, besides all that, tonight I'll be in my '80s B's jersey, drinking at Eddie's, and screaming that most revered of Bruins' chants..."KILL THE HABS!"

passed along to me by my agents in the field...(I do have them you know)... REPUBLICAN NATIONAL COMMITTEE CONVENTION SCHEDULE New York, NY 6:00 PM Opening Prayer led by the Reverend Jerry Falwell 6:30 PM Pledge of Allegiance 6:35 PM Burning of Bill of Rights (excluding 2nd Amendment) 6:45 PM Salute to the Coalition of the Willing 6:46 PM Seminar .1: Getting Your Kid a Military Deferment 7:30 PM First Presidential Beer Bong 7:35 PM Freedom Fries served 7:40 PM EPA Address .1: Mercury: It's What's for Dinner 8:00 PM Vote on which country to invade next 8:10 PM Call EMTs to revive Rush Limbaugh 8:15 PM John Ashcroft Lecture: The Homos Are After Your Children 8:30 PM Round table discussion on reproductive rights (men only) 8:50 PM Seminar .2: Corporations: The Government of the Future 9:00 PM Condi Rice sings "Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man" 9:05 PM Second Presidential Beer Bong 9:10 PM EPA Address .2: Trees: The Real Cause of Forest Fires 9:30 PM break for secret meetings 10:00 PM Second Prayer led by Cal Thomas 10:15 PM Carl Rove Lecture: Doublespeak Made Simple 10:30 PM Rumsfeld Lecture/Demonstration: How to Squint and Talk Macho Even When You Feel Squishy Inside 10:35 PM Bush demonstration of trademark "deer in headlights" stare 10:40 PM John Ashcroft Demonstration: New Mandatory Kevlar Chastity Belt 10:45 PM Clarence Thomas reads list of black Republicans 10:46 PM Third Presidential Beer Bong 10:50 PM Seminar .3: Education: A Drain on Our Nation's Economy 11:10 PM Hilary Clinton Pinata 11:20 PM John Ashcroft Lecture: Evolutionists: A Dangerous New Cult 11:30 PM Call EMTs to revive Rush Limbaugh again 11:35 PM Blame Clinton 11:40 PM Laura serves milk and cookies 11:50 PM Closing Prayer led by Jesus Himself 12:00 PM Nomination of George W. Bush as Holy Supreme Planetary Overlord

OK, so Americans think soccer is boring. Yet people will watch cars drive around in circles for HOURS and/or watch people try to play football on a tiny field with padded boards. NASCAR and Arean Football have got to be the dumbest things I've ever seen. People get on my case for liking soccer yet watch that crap? IN DEFENSE OF SOCCER: 01.) You become connected with a global community. 02.) NASCAR races go on for hours, soccer is 90 minutes (give or take a little). 03.) I always hear how soccer is low scoring. OK, yes sometime the score is 1-0 or maybe 0-0. That's not every single game. Think of American football. Imagine a touchdown was only a point. A 21-14 game becomes a 3-2 game. Sounds like a soccer score to me, kids. 04.) Watch the ball-dribbling skills. I'm sorry, if a guy cutting around 3 defenders and putting a shot on goal (while only being allowed to use his feet, chest, and head) doesn't impress you then you're not a sports fan. 05.) You know that hot chick at your local Irish bar? The bartender lady? Yeah, the redhead. She's gonna be a LOT more interested in you if you discuss Glasgow Celtic or the Shamrock Rovers with her than the Timberwolves or Raiders. Guaranteed. 05a.) You know that nice Mexican place out by the highway? Yeah the one with the sombero in the ads. Your service will improve sevenfold if you ask the waiter if he thinks putting a Chivas entry into the MLS will be good or bad. Once again, a guarantee from ol' Uncle Jim. 06.) Rivalries that go back longer than Bobby Brown's arrest record. Rangers vs. Celtic makes the Red Sox vs. Yankees look like Matignon High versus Arlington Catholic. That one goes back to 1888. No, not a typo- the 19th Century. In America, the Chicago Fire vs. Dallas Burn gets heated (sorry, I had to)- they have their own trophy (The Brimstone Cup) given to the team with the better head to head record. 07.) Wouldn't it be interesting if the Bruins played teams from overseas? Or if the Sox played a team from Cuba? Happens all the time in soccer. The Revolution and LA Galaxy just played some matches against Portuguese legends Sporting Clube de Portugal (and won). Rumor has it the 2004 MLS All Star Game will pit the All Stars versus the biggest team in the whole world, Real Madrid. Pretty cool huh? Instead of just playing teams in your own country and proclaiming yourselves "world" champions, in soccer your team will probably play (at the very least) 3 or 4 foreign big-time teams a year. 08.) Drinking and being loud is part of the culture. 09.) Unlike basketball and baseball, where the US once was dominant but is now losing it's grip- in soccer we're just coming into our own. Right now the US is ranked 8th, over England (who invented the damn game!), Germany, Italy, and Ireland. For a nation who's top division is less than a decade old that's pretty impressive. Those nations have 5 World Cup championships between them (we've never won). Imagine if all of a sudden Jamaica became really good at ice hockey and Jamaican teams beat some NHL teams. Same idea going on here. 10.) Because a bicycle-kick goal is beautiful.