The Daily Bitcher: Chairs Missing

Ah, yes--one of my pet peeves, the wonderful Metro Boston Parking Space Reservation System. Yes, I know it's legal. And by way of disclosure I'm not responding as angry driver who's always looking for a parking spot--I'm just a pedestrian walking around and shaking my head. I think it's an obnoxious tradition. It's public parking. No one owns it. If you bought a house with off street parking, you'd pay thousands more for that property. But if you own or rent, have a car, and want to make sure that spot is still there when you get back, all it costs you is the time and energy to put out a chair, a cone or a garbage can. And no one will ever move your crap and take your place, because who wants the grief of a confrontation or something happening to your car? 

Is this just a Boston thing? Part of me hopes so, and a part of me hopes we're not the only town that does this, just because it's so shameful. Then again, we did invent the "Yankees Suck" chant and saw fit to cart it out at non-baseball games against non-New York teams. It's not beyond us to be alone in practicing something this stupid.

The Daily Pitcher: Linden Arden Stole the Highlights

"And he put his finger through the glass."

The Daily Pitcher: I Just Wanna Stop

Many thanks to the Snilch, and the Snilch's amazing wife, Janine. They hooked our friend Tim and me up with excellent seats to tonight's C's/King's tilt, and it came with the additional bonuses of A) their company and B) the endless amusement that results from watching many and varied people try their hand at the arcade hoops shooting game at Sullivan's Tap.

None of those folks, however, could match the prowess of Eddie House, who rang up a career-high eight three pointers. From our vantage point in section 21, he appeared to be shooting by feel, as we in the basketball business put it. Which is to say: those of us who like to express our sporting admiration by way of dodgy sexual metaphors.

But on a night like this, our thoughts inevitably turn to Gino. Though the dancer in the American Bandstand video that often crowns a Celtics blowout win passed away nearly 20 years ago, his spirit remains--to recall, as our friend Ken would point out, those nights in Montreal. Peace out.

The Daily Pitcher: A Hazy Shade of Winter

The Daily Pitcher: All Tomorrow's Parties

The area on top of and around my music desk has become a sort of knick-knack central. Paul Pierce, Curt Schilling, and Teddy Ballgame. Capt. Jacob's Flying Club--the remains of an old sign whose wings have been clipped. A picture of M and I overlooking the water at ICA, from our engagement shoot. And the box for the wonderful Andy Warhol "Fragile" shoes M got me for Christmas. The shoes are very cool, and the box (in typical Warholian fashion) operates as an art piece.

The Weekly Rocker: WWJD

WWJD.mp3 - Scott Bishop
He would comfort and protect the poor and the wretched

He would clothe the naked and take in the lepers

He would welcome his enemies as friends at his table

He would heal and embrace those who were not like him

He would speak in plain words without obfuscation

He would cast you out as thieves in the temple

You believe word and deed he's a thing at all like you

He would be word and deed not a thing at all like you

You believe word and deed he's a thing at all like you

The Daily Pitcher: Taxi

The Daily Pitcher: Three of a Perfect Pair

Shots from the Copley area this week. I was at the Marriott for a work conference. Always great to see friends and colleagues, but it's strange to spend two nights in a hotel that's situated five miles from my apartment.

This first image is a crab cake from the Daily Grill. It's a running joke M and I have, because we watch Kitchen Nightmares, and at every restaurant Gordon Ramsay helps, he starts out evaluating their food by order the crab cake and the salmon.

A more alert person would have noted which church this is. Unfortunately, you're stuck with me, some purty pitchers, and a complete lack of information.

To paraphrase XTC, "Life Begins at the Pops."

The Daily Pitcher: Seek and Destroy

It was my brother's birthday yesterday, and Metallica was nice enough to throw a party for him at the TD Banknorth Garden. Okay, so they didn't invite either of our spouses,or any of our friends or families, and we had to pay to get in. It's the thought that counts.

As Dale said, "They ain't lost nothin' off their fastball." They brought for two solid hours, plus an encore of "Seek and Destroy." The coffin lighting rigs flashed me back in a funny way to the U2 Zoo TV show I saw with Dale back in '92 at Sullivan Stadium. And the fact they played in the round meant everyone got something resembling face time from every band member. 

I misread our ticket, thinking we were in loge 12, which led to a) talking to a couple of nice but very hammered guys from New Brunswick who drove eight hours to see the show, and b) the people who actually owned those seats showing up just as Metallica were about to take the stage. Compounding the drama was the fact I'd lost my ticket during my last trip to concessions. It turns out we were in loge 2, which was still a great location, and the usher waived us in after he saw only Dale's ticket. 

The encore was punctuated with the dropping of big, black inflatable balls with the Metallicalogo. I was thisclose to grabbing one, but the kid behind me punched it fifteen rows ahead. If he had caught it, I wouldn't have been pissed--it's a cool souvenir. Unfortunately, he was quick enough to punch and slow enough not to consider it as a keepsake. Dale did snag a WAAFsticker on the way out commemorating the show, date and all. A great night all around.

Dale's understanding was that Metallica tended to run a tight ship with security to minimize photos, videos, and audio from leaking out. So I opted to leave the camera behind. Big mistake--we were treated to typical Garden security. Getting a camera in would have been no problem. So the upshot is that the few pictures I took are from my phone. 

The Weekly Rocker: Perfect Mistakes

Perfect Mistakes - Scott Bishop

Everytime we never met, another time I thought I glimpsed you
A history filled with regret, rewritten as a life of fortune
Moments I saw as missteps were footprints on the path to find you
Some semblance of how we forget/The book revised to now star you

Characters stripped from the story
In the rearview as if to seem too boring
You take the brush and slap across the page vivid new colors

Every town I ever left/I left behind a tenament of unwritten stories
Memory, that poor architect, mixes up the stones from different quarries

The marble of old loves forgotten
The limestone of youth besotted
To the unforgiving granite of my heart you've taken your
Chisel and carved out words I never thought I'd say
(Now I give them to you)
The corner of its foundation now bears your name
(I whisper to you the great saying above its gate)

From every house I ever wrecked, I took away the pieces of what I lacked
Reconstituted amlmost whole, a body that could absorb the impact
Until the day I collided with you, and saw the very last crack filled up
Every corner became a room/I saw a home wherever you turned up

The Daily Pitcher: Slow

The Daily Pitcher: Brick Is Red

The Daily Pitcher: Reflections

The Daily Pitcher: Face to Face

Nursemaid Scully. If I'm not well, she's there to sit on my chest. Not so good nuking the heating pad or getting the advil, but there you go.

The Daily Pitcher: Traffic Light Rock

The Weekly Rocker: In Parallel

Each weekend I plan on putting an up MP3 of one of my songs. It's partly a clearinghouse for what I've written, since I'm not a working musician. This week, though, the song I'm putting up is apropos, particularly in light of Margo pointing NPR's request for songs that thematically relate to this week's inauguration of Barack Obama,

I wrote "In Parallel" right after the election. The last eight years have really seemed like a gut punch for many of us. We've endured an insular, paranoid administration that squandered America's good will post-9/11; that led us into a poorly rationalized war that has damaged or ruined the lives of thousands of soldiers; and that led us to the brink of financial collapse. The song is really a jolt of relief from eight depressing years. However our new President performs, he's already provided many of us wit some crucial: hope that we can restore our standing in the world, rectify past wrongs, and bring forth a new vision of America's place in the world. Here's to the next four years.

The gut punch is over
It’s time to get up off the mat
The air is crisp, as it always is
Right after the storm has passed
And you see, we can reclaim
A little of the shine that we once had
Before the fall, before disgrace
Was the robe in which we were clad

And I can hear
Something you say time will only tell
The day when word and deed
Are running in parallel

And not in divergent paths
Like convicts who had to share a cell
But down the aisle, side by side
Like lovers who long ago felt the swell
Here we are, different face
Time to redecorate the place
Leash the dog and lose the fence
Build it up on a different base

The Daily Pitcher: Heart of Glass

In architecture--at least in the Longwood Medical Area--glass is the new brick. (Or concrete. Ot stucco.) In this case, what you're seeing is a reflection of light off 350 Longwood and onto the building I work in at 320 Longwood. The play of light on the various structures in the area--especially the brand new Center for Life Sciences and Harvard's New Research Building--can be pretty stunning. I didn't have my camera on me for one such amazing display I saw yesterday around 9, so one of these mornings I'll make sure to have my camera at the ready.

Other interesting patterns can form on my building from precipitation, as happened Wednesday during our snow-, sleet- and freezing rainfest.

The Daily Pitcher: Staring at the Sun

The Mission Church, Mission Hill in Boston. I'm at a loss to explain why I, a devout heathen, tend to gravitate towards churches. But wherever I travel I find the need to go into one if it's open.

The Daily Pitcher: Reaching Out, I'm a Fortune Teller

Boston is looking ugly today, and my back feels like crap. I'm not leaving the office until checkout time, and I'm not banking on getting a good photo during the commute. And when I get home? Well, pictures of cats acting cute are always a possibility, but I think I'll put the cutes on hold. It's too early to play that card.

So what to do? Well, let's look through my wallet. Ah, yes--the three fortunes Margo and I received at Ruby Foo's in NYC last Tuesday! Why three? Well, the third one was snared from the table next to us. I don't know if it was a date that wasn't going so hot, or if it was just a guy and a gal hanging out and one of them forgot their cookie. But at some point, it really seems like fate is screaming, "DUDE, that's your fortune. Rip it, read it and eat it." So we did.

The top one is M's; the second (made borderline comprehensible by a couple of clear "English as a fifth language" choices) is mine; the third, we agreed, is ours. The first one was good for M; the second one I could apply to basketball; the third one was perfect.

As a bonus, I turned over the fortunes to give you three very helpful words the next time you, say, want to order a specific drink in Chinese. Yummy.

The Daily Pitcher: The Pavements, They Are a Mess

Yep, it's crazy camera pic time. Forgot the Powershot at home, otherwise you'd be looking at 1) a quality shot of the side of Joslin Diabetes Center--exposed after having been covered by an 80 year old building that housed Rebecca's Cafe and a florist; or 2) three ducks crossing the Riverway while traffic yielded for them, only I couldn't get my freakin' phone going quick enough to get a shot off. (The hatred I feel for my phone is another thing you won't have to deal with today.)

Instead, you get some broken down pavement at the corner of Longwood and Binney, and avoid a long-winded treatise on the economy and the contrast between its impact on the progress of the new Dana Farber building and the sudden cessation of work on the new Joslin building, to have been housed in--you guess it--the space once used for that aforementioned 80 year old building. You got off easy this time, is what I'm sayin'.

The Daily Pitcher: Ice Cold Ice

The Daily Pitcher: Anticipation

From Exit Art's Labyrinth show, running through 2/7/09.

The Daily Pitcher: Sign o' the Times

The Daily Pitcher: Mixed Signals

One of my New Year's resolutions was to try and post a pic of some kind every day. I'm playing a little catch-up to make it happen. This was an actual crossing sign we saw in the Lower West Side on Friday--I saw another one yesterday, so presumably it has a purpose. As Richard Thompson once said, "Much as I like to disseminate confusion, I feel this is going a bit far."

The Daily Pitcher: Happy New Year

Nope, that's not Times Square. Close, though--My Morning Jacket at Madison Square Garden. Great show, fantastic way to ring in the New Year.