Dangerous, Dirty, and Unfun

However, comma, if you’re interested in actually learning a little something about local zoning and construction issues in New York City, instead of just recklessly exploiting them for political gain, I definitely recommend this lengthy New York Times report, from the fifth anniversary of September 11, titled “The Hole in the City’s Heart.” It’s old, but it should give you a good flavor of the concrete problems involved in building anything near Ground Zero.

Will Lebron James spend the next three to five seasons delivering the multiple championships that we’ve all been assured he will someday win to Cleveland, ushering in a new golden age for the benighted former metropolis? Or will he flee, plunging clea bleak, post-apocalyptic nightmare future where unsold Travis Hafner bobbleheads are the only currency, and flames leaping from the Cuyahoga River are not a shameful sign of postindustrial decay, but rather a nostalgic reminder of the bright flame of hope that once burned in the heart of every Clevelander, before their Chosen One skipped town, their souls and innocence in tow? Tonight is the night we find out!

I’ve gone back and forth about Lebron’s um, decision to go through with “The Decision,” the hour-long program tonight where he’ll announce the team he’s chosen to sign a free agent contract with. On the one hand, it’s incredibly tacky. It’s always been one thing for ESPN and the rest of the national media to pick up this “Where will Lebron go” narrative and milk it for everything it’s worth over the past three years. But for the man himself to throw one final last tanker full of gasoline onto the flames with this self-indulgent bit of puffery? It’s unseemly, especially considering Lebron has yet to win a damn thing.

Then again, as you all know from my posts on guys like Manny Ramirez and Chad Ochocinco, I’m all about my athletes being entertainers. Sports are supposed to be fun and frivolous. They’re supposed to be spectacle. Is there a bigger spectacle than an hour-long, widely publicized, highly produced show dedicated to the type of announcement that Kevin Durant managed to make in less than 140 characters. As far as entertainment goes, Lebron can either make himself into a Rushmore-worthy mark of integrity and loyalty by sticking with Cleveland, or one of the biggest sports villains ever by stabbing his hometown team in the heart on the biggest stage imaginable. Either way, I’m writing a running diary of the thing. Here we go!

8:58 And Sportscenter is already reporting that “Sources indicate Lebron James will sign with the Heat.” I hope that doesn’t happen, or else ESPN will have ruined their whole surprise!

8:59 We’ll all be watching together, Linda Cohn just said. I feel like America is my whole family. Lebron James is bringing people together. Before he tears them bloodily apart.

9:01 Who is this voiceover guy, Zordon? Also, this bing logo in the “The Decision” chyron in the corner is pretty ill-placed.

9:02 Simmons touched on this earlier in the day, but I’ll reiterate: if Lebron, Bosh, and Wade are playing for the Heat, who else are they playing with? Hobos off the street? Guys that’ll play for mojitos?

9:03 Jon Barry just called Dwyane Wade the second-best player in the game. I think there should be a split screen of Kobe Bryant’s reactions to the bloviation that occurs in the next hour.

9:07 I swear to God, I almost bought that purple gingham shirt the other day. Of course, I don’t think Lebron is shopping at the Banana Republic factory store.

I’ve liked Joe Johnson ever since he made the Celtics look like they were playing pee-wee ball in the 2008 playoffs, but I don’t think he really deserved that contract.

9:10 I might be a homer, but I think what happened with the Celtics in 2008 was a fluky anomaly. Rondo and Perkins happened to coincidentally be effective players, and James Posey happened to be able to play clutch defense on everyone’s best player, and PJ Brown happened to be able to still walk. Lightning in a bottle!

9:11 Would it have killed ESPN to take the time to superimpose Lebron’s face onto some color unis? At least it would look dynamic and distract us for a second from what an effing farce this whole thing is. For a second.

Commercials = grabbing a beer. Great Divide Denver Pale Ale. Perhaps Lebron to the Nuggets?

9:15 Where would we be without “California Love”? ESPN would need to play the theme to The OC during All-Star promos, that’s where.

9:16 At 25, I wanted the option to earn jillions more dollars. I bet Lebron’s living room has air conditioning.

You know, I refuse to believe that Lebron would go through with this whole show if his operation was leaky enough that so many “sources” are sure he’s signing with the Heat. But I don’t know anything about anything.

9:20 Here’s a Facebook update from the Official Roommate of Dangerous, Dirty, and Unfun, a Cleveland native and Cavaliers fan:

ORODDU: really? this thing is sponsored by bing, the “decision engine” and “DecisionWater” (formerly known as VitaminWater)?? ridiculous

Ha!

9:22 I gotta tell you, I couldn’t care less what Lebron thinks about the process. We’ve all made tough decisions before. They suck! Get on with it!

9:23 Incidentally, I saw the giant sign that the Russian plutocrat owner of the Nets painted on the side of that building overlooking MSG the other day. It’s kinda hilarious.

9:25 I’m ashamed to say that I have a knot in my stomach. This could be the end of Cleveland, and the guillotine is dropping in slower than slow motion.

9:27 So it’s the Heat. Did you hear that crowd? Hoo boy.

9:29 “How do you explain this to the city of Cleveland?” Like this: see you in hell!

9:30 Will you still live in Akron? Ha! That’s a legitimate lol.

9:32 This is a time-stamped guarantee: if Pat Riley doesn’t walk downstairs at some point to coach Lebron James, I’ll eat my hat.

Look at all that Vitamin Water. It looks like backstage at a Gossip Girl fashion show.

9:36 Did you see that bartender in Cleveland? Holy smokes.

Mike Wilbon just congratulated Lebron for making his decision. I wish I was congratulated for doing things I’m supposed to do. “First of all, Timmy, congratulations for brushing your teeth this morning.”

9:39 I hope the fans will be respectful, but I don’t expect them to be. Interesting quote. I would change my mind about rooting against Lebron if he made a complete heel turn here. Drop the faux humbleness, mug for the camera more, show up to the arena in a black feather boa.

9:44 That’s right! Who knows how game 7 would have gone if Perkins didn’t go down!

One look at my Facebook news feed, and I’m already having a backlash against the Lebron backlash. I don’t want to hate on Lebron is hating on Lebron is already passe . . .

9:49 Was that litany of great teams a slap in the face of Mo Williams?

I kinda sorta don’t believe that they’re showing Lebron video of people burning his jersey. “How do you feel about that, Lebron?” Probably bad! Then again, nothing burns like an effigy . . .

9:51 I love this “to my real fans” stuff.

10:00 Alright, enough. Go Celtics.

America!

Happy Independence Day, everybody. I’m not one of those scolds who’s going to tell you to feel guilty for engaging in jingoistic acts of revelry, seeing as how there’s so much suffering and injustice not only in the world, but in this very country. There’s two reasons for this, one of which I’ve already written about. For as bad as America may seem to its harshest critics, at home and abroad, it’s still a great place, and with the ability to be greater:

That’s what makes America great, that quest for perfection. Our history as a nation is pocked by almost unforgivable sins: genocide, slavery, war. I say almost unforgivable, because I believe that the American story is a story of redemption. (I guess we’re back to the redemptive power of change.) And whether the redemption is of the ancient crimes of European tyranny, or our own more recent ones, America is a place where that cleansing can happen, where things can be made right. Because even though their application hasn’t always been consistent, the words that actually are our birthright have never changed: that all men are created equal; that our union can be more perfect; that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish. The American story is a long slog; too long, in fact. But the slog inevitably leads to the same place. That’s the genius of America.

The second reason being, it’s America’s birthday, people. Wherever you are, you should probably find a place and a means to party. What I would ask, as I am wont to do on occasions such as this, is to take a moment to say a few words to the close and holy darkness for the men and women who are overseas, fighting under that flag you see above, as well as their families, who suffer in ways that you or I can scarcely imagine.

And so I leave you, treasured readers, as I make my preparations to go down the shore to celebrate America’s independence from the hated British, with the only rendition of our national anthem that ever really mattered. Be good.

While the invoice from my hosting company should have been ample reminder, I completely forgot that May 29 was the one-year anniversary of dangerousdirtyunfun.com. What a horrible blogger I am. Where’s the romance gone? Sure, at the start, there were rose petals leading from the door down the hallway and right to my laptop. Pretty soon, though, the posts got less frequent, the writing got a little skimpier, until finally I’m forgetting our anniversary. I’m sorry, dangersoudirtyunfun.com! Let me make it up to you with a special Dangerous, Dirty, and Unfun Event.

In the coming days and weeks (because let’s be honest, precious readers, DD&U doesn’t do week-long events), I’ll be going through the past year’s worth of posts, picking out some of my favorites, providing some commentary, basically playing around in the archives. I’ll do my best to provide some fresh content so this isn’t some exercise in blatant narcissism. But then again, you people will read anything I post, right? Right?

Anyway, here’s the oldest post I can possibly point to: the first one, from May 29, 2009! It’s extra cute, because I talk about all this crazy customization I planned to do on the site, and reference all of these old details that are long defunct. Ah, capricious youth. The most substantive bit here is the origin of your favorite blog’s title, which isn’t really that substantive, but hey! Cut me some slack, it was my first post!

Way back when I was a junior in college, I and a group of dear friends took a road trip out to sunny South Bend, Indiana, to watch the mighty Eagles of Boston College vanquish their bitter rivals, the Fighting Irish of Notre Dame. On the way home, two of our group attained other means of transport home, so it was just Michelle, whose car we were in, Katie, and myself splitting driving duties. I remember being behind the wheel and blazing through Indiana in a pelting rain storm. I don’t recall how long it took us to get back to the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, but I do remember driving through the night, and trying to get some shut-eye in the backseat, which wasn’t necessarily easy.

So there we were, on the Massachusetts Turnpike, 15 or 20 minutes from home, going through a tollbooth. Michelle was driving, Katie was in the passenger seat, and I was in a half-catatonic state in the back. Michelle called our attention to an advertisement on the divider between toll booths. I think it was for Boston’s public parks. Anyway, it hyped up Boston’s playgrounds as “Safe, Clean, and Fun!” This wasn’t inherently hilarious. But then Michelle said “Of course they’re safe, clean, and fun. What are they supposed to say? Dangerous, dirty, and unfun?” This wasn’t inherently hilarious, either, but for whatever reason, be it the sleep deprivation, or maybe the residue of the copious amounts of fermented spirits I had imbibed hours before, I laughed harder than I ever did in my entire life. All the way home, I couldn’t stop laughing, gasping for breath, clutching the seat in front of me, wheezing “Dangerous, dirty, and unfun! Ha!” After that, the term became something we brought up in conversation, and it also became the title of the memorial mixtape of the trip that Michelle made for me.

So that’s it. I just thought it was a fun term. Is there any inherent meaning or application to the blog? I don’t know. You tell me.

Regular readers of Dangerous, Dirty, and Unfun know that I, along with the Official Roommate of Dangerous, Dirty, and Unfun, play in a weekly cornhole league. (Cornhole, for the uninitiated, is a game a lot like horseshoes, except with beanbags and wooden ramps.) Well, last night was the championship tournament. What transpired was exactly what you would expect to transpire when two of the fiercest competitors in the history of lawn games pit their mettle against the best players the great metropolis of Boston has to offer.

That’s right, precious reader. The dynamite duo, Beanbag Puns Are Corny, is your Winter 2010 Social Boston Sports cornhole champion!

The greatest moment of my life.

After a cutthroat semi-final round, we were up against two of the most formidable cornhole practitioners I’ve ever encountered. Dudes were straight up assassins. I’m talking ringers on demand. After losing game one, we fell into a deep hole. I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you that there were several moments during that second game where I was convinced we were done for. But in moments like that, in the white-hot crucible of competition, the truly transcendent athletes find a store of will that, quite frankly, doesn’t exist in ordinary mortals. Suffice it to say, we were able to mount a furious comeback and complete a David and Goliath story that makes the Book of Samuel look like a writeup of a mid-July scrimmage in the Plattsburgh, New York Little League.

For that, we were given the right to sip the sweet, sweet nectar of triumph (aka Sam Adams Noble Pils) out of that golden championship chalice. And t-shirts that will forever identify us as cornhole champions. Success! Victory! Glory!

The vestment of a champion

As always, I’m writing about the Oscars because I like movies and I watch them from time to time, and I’m always trying to position Dangerous, Dirty, and Unfun within the zeitgeist. I only saw a few of the nominated films, namely Inglorious Basterds and a bootleg copy of Avatar, so as usual, all opinions should be taken with the requisite grains of sodium chloride. And for previous Oscar commentary, go here!

8:32 How about a Harold and Kumar reference in the opening musical number? Fun!

8:33 Also, remember like, ten years ago when Neil Patrick Harris was nobody? Does anyone even refer to him just “the guy that was Doogie Howser” anymore?

8:37 I usually don’t like saying these things, at the risk of sounding like I’m the kind of guy that thinks women are objects, but Helen Mirren = hot. Yeah, I said it.

8:39 In our first movie, we were both born a poor black child. That was kinda funny.

8:43 This George Clooney scowling thing in the opening monologue is supposed to be a gag, right? Am I just not in touch enough to get it? Because I’m pulling my collar like crazy over here! Also, I didn’t see his movie, but I think Jeff Bridges is owed an Oscar after being snubbed for his betrayal as Dude Lebowski.

8:47 Ah ha! An actor nominated from a movie I actually saw! Christoph Waltz for best supporting actor!

8:48 Ding ding ding.

8:50 I don’t like Ryan Reynolds being all solemn and serious, introducing The Blind Side. This is Van Wilder, dammit! Chris Brander! Is this some sort of preparation for us to take him seriously as Hal Jordan?

8:52 Does everyone else have a The Bounty Hunter commercial on right now? And are you all weirded out that King Leonidas is now the go-to guy for soulless, forgettable action flicks and cookie cutter romantic comedies?

8:56 Does this Steve Carrel thing mean that Jude Law won’t be appearing on this broadcast? I’m a huge Jude Law guy : (

8:57 I like what they do with the cartoons. That is all. I gotta go for Coraline here, because it was written by a guy that writes comic books. Like, really writes comic books.

8:58 College Humor says what needs to be said about Pixar.

9:00 Is Miley Cyrus on stilts? Look at how tall she is!

9:02 Reinhart Wagner, nominated for best original song. Is he German?

9:04 Neither of these guys who won look like a “T-Bone Burnett.” I think the guy that said “I love you more than rainbows, baby” should be named T-Bone.

9:06 Why didn’t they make the previews for District 9 as good as that little montage? I probably would have seen it!

9:10 David Carr signed with the 49ers? Who’s our backup now? Sorry, this has nothing to do with the Oscar broadcast. It’s just a reason for concern.

9:13 I, for one, am thrilled with how Robert Downey’s career has panned out.

9:17 Molly Ringwold? Where’d she come from? I haven’t seen her since that episode of Family Guy.

9:17.5 Of course it’s a John Hughes memorial, so now I feel like a big jerk.

9:19 Breakfast Club, Shmreakfast Club, when was anyone gonna tell me that John Hughes wrote Home effing Alone? And Christmas Vacation!

9:25 Margaret Monroe of Washington, DC, has never seen Christmas Vacation. I thought the world should know.

9:34 Yup. Short films.

9:45 Wait a sec, 72 percent of America preferred their toilet paper over the roll? How is that even possible!

9:48 Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire was based on a book? How about that.

9:53 They honored Roger Corman? That’s actually kinda awesome. I know a guy that works for him nowadays.

10:00 This is a make-up Oscar for Mo’nique, after she was snubbed for her portrayal of Cherry in Beerfest.

10:20 Bride of Frankenstein was a pretty good flick. Thoughts?

10:24 I feel like it would be much cooler if they actually like, recorded an actual RPG blowing up an actual cop car in that scene from The Dark Knight.

10:26 Now, does every member of the Academy get an equal vote for every category? What the hell does some writer know about sound mixing?

10:32 I’m glad we don’t have to see those Yaz commercials that are solely about how Yaz is actually deadly poison. Girls falling into bathtubs with their clothes on is much more whimsical than “Our last ad lied to you about how harmful our product is.”

10:35 Is this a glitch? I feel like the cinematography category should have some like, examples of good cinematography. Right?

10:39 I like James Taylor, but they couldn’t get Sir Paul to sing the song he co-wrote?

10:45 Remember when J-Lo used to put out records? “I’m Real” with Ja-Rule is still an awesome song!

10:51 Those guys were spinning on their heads for like, 30 seconds! That was a crazy. Maybe this is a legion of extraordinary dangers. Also, thank you, Alan Moore, for giving us the “Group Noun of Extraordinary Plural Nouns” construction.

11:01 I’m a huge Matt Damon guy. I don’t care who knows it, either. Also, this Burma movie looks wicked heavy. Yikes!

11:02 And then a movie about slaughtering dolphins? WTF?

1103 Seriously, Hollywood. Can we get a documentary with some whimsy? I’m about to cry.

11:05 Awesome awesome awesome. The producer of the winning documentary, The Cove, is the same guy that played Lyle Corman, the critic from the Philadelphia Inquirer who gave Paddy’s Pub a scathing review on It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. H/t to my roommate for figuring that one out.

11:10 I’m kinda rooting for Jeremy Renner. Not because I saw The Hurt Locker. But because I saw 28 Weeks Later, and I kinda liked it!

11:12 People might treat this like a joke, but good for the pride of New Jersey, Buzz Aldrin, for appearing on Dancing with the Stars. I’m rooting for him full-throatedly.

11:19 Here’s the thing about Avatar. You’re a human, so when you’re not in your avatar, it’s sleeping. Presumably because you’re awake and doing human things. Don’t you also have to be awake while you’re in the pod and you’re controlling the avatar? Because if you’re actually the mind giving agency to this puppet, don’t you yourself have to be conscious? So when does the human sleep? Did this get established in the movie? And I’m not talking about established in a “we have one scene where Jake is tired in his video diary” way. I mean was this problem actually addressed and resolved in a grown-up way.

11:25 What happened to Michelle Pfeiffer? Is she not a big star any more?

11:26 I don’t know if I’m digging this “co-star yap yap yapping about the nominee” thing. These are Hollywood actors here. They don’t need to be praised any more than they’ve already been praised!

11:32 We all saw this Jeff Bridges win coming, right? The Dude abides, right?

11:34 Oh hey, Julianne Moore was just on stage. She played Maude Lebowski!

11:48 Did the Academy just not want to have to decide between Meryl Streep and the girl from Precious?

11:55 Is it cool or funny or something that the woman that directed Point Break just won best director?

11:58 I guess James Cameron will have to console himself with his millions and millions of dollars. I should probably also get The Hurt Locker on-demand? People seem to think it’s a good movie.

Regular readers of Dangerous, Dirty, and Unfun know exactly what I’m talking about.

Dangerous, Dirty, and Unfun’s mommy always told me that it’s rude to let someone clean up after me if I’m capable of doing it myself. Sure, she washed my dishes and did my laundry for a good number of years, but the lesson took! Same thing in the Scouts. You bus your own tray, you clean your own tent, yada yada yada. Combine that with my powerful and innate sense of guilt, and you can imagine how I look sideways at the principle of single-stream recycling.

Boston, along with a lot of towns and institutions, have single-stream recycling. The idea is that you treat your recyclable materials just like you treat your garbage: chuck it in one bag or container and let the truck take it away to, I dunno, whatever magic place turns it back into cardboard boxes and beer cans. The actual process of separating the paper from the plastic from the metal is pretty cool, if you like giant machines and flying garbage. Which I do.

Looks legit enough, but I still feel weird about it. One of the primary and most intuitive virtues of single-stream recycling is that it’s so easy, even a monkey could do it. Check out this list of acceptable materials from the City of Boston. Basically, as long as you put it in a clear plastic bag and it’s not a rod of enriched uranium, the recycling truck will pick it up. Which is great. Recycling is obviously more effective if everyone, even the lazy idiots, do it.

However, comma, I personally don’t feel unduly burdened by separating my recyclables. This isn’t rocketry, folks! And it’s not particularly labor-intensive either. You put the bottles in one bucket, you put your paper in another. Boom. Of course, since I live in a single-stream community, my separating skills have atrophied like so much…I dunno, atrophied stuff.

Here’s the problem. Anyone that lives in New York or Massachusetts or Michigan or any of the other bottle deposit states knows that a significant amount of recycling is done by homeless folks returning cans for the five (or 10) cent deposit. No one disputes this. That’s why, even though recycling is only collected on Friday mornings, it’s feasible to put out a bag of cans any night of the week. Someone will pick them up. Happens every time.

So you can imagine my surprise when, on my way to the T this morning, I saw a familiar-looking bag on the street a few blocks from my apartment. Empty handle of Jim Beam: check. Six wine bottles from Tuesday’s book club meeting: check. Juice cartons and Pringles can: check. It was the bag of recyclables I had put out the night before! Except all the beer cans were gone. I can only surmise that some can person grabbed our bag, sorted out the useful stuff from the dregs, and then dumped the bag. The recycling truck was long gone, so this bag would probably just get picked up by a public works functionary this weekend and get mixed in with the regular garbage. You know, hence defeating the purpose of recycling in the first place.

I refuse to believe that this doesn’t happen ALL the time. Why wouldn’t it? Boston is notoriously bad at distributing recycling bins, so most of the people who recycle things at all are putting their junk in bags. Why wouldn’t a bag man just snag a whole block’s worth of recycling sacks, take them to his base of operations, grab all the goodies, and leave the dreck? It makes perfect sense! How many tons of recyclables are lost to the normal garbage every year? I demand statistics. Does the amount of garbage lost to situations like the one I just described offset the amount of recyclables gained by people being drawn in by the ease of single stream? That’s a serious question. One that this blogger is too lazy to investigate himself, but would be overjoyed should some sort of answer drift through the comments section.

In the meantime, single-stream recycling is still off-putting to me. Did you watch that video up there? We’ve outsourced our sorting to the machines? What happens when the machines stop serving us, and we start serving the machines? I’ll tell you what: Skynet.

. . . just posting a love song for Valentine’s Day weekend. Can’t a guy listen to a little Jeff Buckley without people asking a lot of questions?

Also, in other Valentine’s Day–related news, here are some deep cuts from my tenure as the food columnist for the Heights, the independent student newspaper of Boston College. One on the wonders of fondue, the other on Necco Sweethearts. Enjoy.

. . . but I think it’s time to hand the reins over to our dolphin overlords and pray for mercy.

While our elected leaders have trouble even counting to the number 60, these half-fish/half-mammal killing machines have devised a hunting system so intricate that I had to watch the damn video twice to figure out how it worked. And if you’re reading this, dolphin masters (and I have no doubt they’ve already mastered all of the world’s languages), please don’t lump me in with the rest of those devils who have polluted your oceans and ensnared your brethren in tuna nets. I’ll name names!

It used to be that I read this satirical Onion article and laughed. Now, I can only marvel at its prescience, and weep for humanity’s fate.