The Burning Will Subside...Eventually...

It’s a phrase that symbolizes accomplishment within the exercise community. It proves that what you’re doing is good for you; that you’re on the path to good results. So why is it that if you “feel the burn” while doing anything else, you should be alarmed? ie: cooking; building a fire; tanning…ahem, urinating…

To me, feeling the burn means that for the next couple of days, I’ll be rendered relatively immobile, due to the adverse affects of my own vanity. Sure, everyone wants to be fit, but man, is it ever tough.

I recently jumped back on the wagon after my third relapse into laziness within the past 6 months. Prior to my wedding in June, I was going quite regularly and actually dropped about 10 pounds (my annual winter weight). Naturally, I wanted to look good for the copious amounts of photos that would be taken (our photographer alone took about 4000). I was happy. Then I went on vacation.

Vacation, if I’m to continue my sobriety metaphor, is a weeklong bender. Junk food is readily available 24/7 and relaxation is all that’s on your mind. It’s a nice break. The problem, though, is when you come back from vacation you need to be prepared to leave your vacation life behind. It’s back to the real world…which is depressing (even if you love your job).

So, you tell yourself that you need to relax to unwind from a week of relaxing - the logic is rock-solid in your mind - and that’s what you do. Eventually, a week turns into two and before you know it, the great progress you had before vacation is now gone and you’re left with the task of starting over; which you’ll do “tomorrow”. So begins another cycle.

It is amazing, though, how quickly you can feel alive after just one day of good eating and some exercise. You start to get excited. It starts to fell like you’re already in shape.

Then you wake up in the morning.

The day (or two) after is generally the toughest part about getting back into a fitness routine. It feels like you’ve been run over; like the muscles you’ve been neglecting for so long are exacting their revenge on you. Your body hates you; and you hate your body. This is your motivation. Take the pain to mean you’ve accomplished something. You’re on the path to recovery. It won’t be easy, but eventually you’ll reap the benefits.

Keep feeling the burn; at least with regard to exercising…otherwise, you may need to get that checked out.

-Crash-

Oh, and remember that this is a bad idea:

It's Not a Race Until Someone Gets Rubbed Out...

So, it was Radio Night at Speedway 660, Saturday night. The Fox crew was there (along with our sister stations) giving away free gas & groceries... I went for the fries.

I have never really been a big race fan. Other than seeing the cars go fast in front of me, and having a basic knowledge of how races work in general (first to cross the finish line wins), I’m completely clueless to the sport of car-racing. I’ve never been able to get into it the way I do with, say, hockey. Much like I follow the Leafs (yes, I admit it), race fans follow their favourite driver; buy the merchandise; and keep track of stats. I always found it kind of boring...at least on TV.

Seeing a race live, is a whole other animal; even for me.

When I was a kid, I loved the fact that an hour drive (I grew up here) meant I could witness, live, the same thing that bored me to death on TV, and be completely thrilled. I loved the sounds. I loved the speed; and I loved those fries.

Naturally, though, being a kid, I went with my parents to the races hoping for accidents. You know how it is; you can’t look away. Sure, it was fun to watch the cars fly by, but I was always waiting for a collision; a flying car; or, at the very least, some burn-outs. I usually got to see all of that - gotta love the Street-stock division – and I found it all very exciting. The crowd would cheer and look in awe as a car would collide with another and spin off the track, forcing the dust to fly... sometimes, pieces of the car. You could smell the burning of the tires as cars slid to a stop, and the added excitement was watching the other cars attempt to avoid the mash-up.

This past Saturday wasn’t much different than those trips with my parents years ago. It was the Firecracker 150, which for me - as stated above - means nothing...I didn’t see one firecracker; let alone 150... What I’ve come to realize, though, is that what made my childhood trips to the Speedway so much fun, were the same things that made my parents hesitant to take me. Crashes sure slow things down, huh?

I guess I’ve grown up a bit. With each caution flag that went out on Saturday during the main attraction, I found myself getting angry at those that caused them. I was enjoying the chase. The longer the cars went without a caution, the faster they seemed to go; the closer several got to taking over the lead. I was caught up in the excitement. Then, suddenly, it was a leisurely Sunday drive.

I had a blast this weekend, and I want to thank the folks at Speedway 660 for having us out there for Radio Night (congrats to all who won gas & groceries). If you haven’t been in awhile, I encourage you to get out and enjoy it before the season ends (here’s the schedule).

And, while the accidents may slow things down, at times...it makes for an excellent time to get those famous fries without missing the action.

-Crash-

The Key to Being Approachable...

I left my house keys in the lock over night…’cause, y’know, I wanted to see if I could trust my neighbours.

I’m happy to say I can.

I guess we just live in a nice neighbourhood…either that or the crooks are incredibly congenial -- Didn’t let the cats out; left the keys where they found them…didn’t steal anything…

“What a stupid thing to do”, you may say, but I look at it as symbol of my approachability. I mean, if I’m going to leave the keys for anyone to enjoy my house, then a casual conversation on the street is a breeze. That being said, it’s not an invite to steal my wallet…a mugging and a friendly convo are two separate encounters; I only welcome one of them.

Besides…I have a black belt.

(thanks Tip-Top)

-Crash-

Gimme an R...

Well, two days after Fred Rock, there is a lot of thank you’s being thrown around. From the Organizers to the volunteers; everyone did such a superb job making sure the weekend went well that thank-yous are definitely earned. But I have to say, I was especially proud of the crowd at the Loyalist Rugby Club this weekend!

The crowd was incredibly responsive, and that made my job as MC that much easier. Every time I asked for them, the cheers got louder and louder. I could feel the excitement and anticipation as each band performed and it got closer and closer to the headliner.

Our Lady Peace had not played the city since their Clumsy tour in 1997. I’m sure they now have a reason to come back more often. Backstage, each member had raves for the crowd with regard to how fun it was to perform in front of you, and for that, as a crowd member, you deserve a “thank you.”

Plus, when you cheer while I’m out there, I feel like the rock-star, so…thanks for the ego boost. :P

-Crash-

Lights Out, It's Time To Rock...

So, Fred Rock got off to a blistering start with Thornley at the Delta. The set-list was half Big Wreck, which didn’t disappoint...at least not me. The other bands had their moments to shine as well.

Craig Mercer & the Will Be Gones started the night with a slow - and I mean slow- one and I don’t know that the crowd ever really got into it the way they’d intended. Overall, I thought they sounded good, but that may have been lost on the crowd looking for a party. (By the way, did anyone else think the bass player looked like Snake from Degrassi? Just sayin’)

Brad Cain (from Fredericton) took the stage and began a set of all new material. It had a Tool/A Perfect Circle like vibe, which I thoroughly enjoyed. He has a new album in the works, by the way.

Saturday at the Rugby Field started off with a great set by local heroes Sleepy Driver. They’re also working on a new album and played about 4 new ones for the concert goers that showed up early. (Which I recommend every time...there’s so much talent that gets missed because people will wait til later to go…but that’s a rant for another time.)

KO hit the stage next with his brand of stoner-hip-hop-folk-rock…I guess that’s how I’d describe it. The crowd seemed to be into him, but he wasn’t really my thing. After that, Cape Breton’s Slowcoaster proved why they’re one of the premier jam-bands in the Maritimes. I can’t say enough good things about them.

After Slowcoaster, the wild-card of the festival hit the stage…

I remember when I first heard that Marcy Playground was on the bill, and I thought to myself: “where have they been?” They got two songs in before I heard the lead singer (John Wozniak) say “we’ll get there, don’t worry.” I thought waiting through two songs before requesting Sex & Candy showed incredible restraint amongst the crowd. -- I spent a good chunk of their set waiting to get some food (it was supper time, after all…and I was starving) but they sounded good to me. And yes, they played the song.

By the time I got on stage to introduce Hot Hot Heat, the crowd was growing, and the drinking side was getting their drink on big time. The heat was a great motivator.

I’d heard a lot of good things about HHH but never had the chance to see them perform before Saturday. They certainly upped the ante with regard to expectations. A superb live band, complete with energy & a loud sound, they hooked the crowd big time, and for me, was one of the stand-out performers early on.

As Hot Hot Heat left the stage, I got up to help Nick (Fred Rock Co-organizer) get a “Fred Rock” chant for the video. The crowd was impressively loud and super responsive; the dry side (which was slightly smaller) gave the drinking crew a run for their money with their enthusiasm. After the chant, everyone was awaiting Girl Talk.

Girl Talk was one of the most talked about acts of Fred Rock, because no-one really knew what to expect. He’s made appearances at some of the biggest music festivals in North America and has garnered rave reviews. There were beats, remixes, stage dancers and toilet paper…one of the most visually interesting performances of the weekend. The crowd on stage dancing really made it what it was; a great party before OLP took over.

It took the crew some time to clean up the mess that Girl Talk made of the stage (toilet paper, confetti and, thanks to Hot Hot Heat, vegetables..) so that only provided more time for anticipation, as everyone knew what was coming.

Once Our Lady Peace hit the stage, there was no denying who the majority of the crowd paid the ticket price to see. The band ripped into the most energetic song on Burn Burn (Monkey Brains) to open the show, and from there played hit after hit after hit; garnering many a sing-a-long. OLP played with energy and sounded good while doing so. The light show only enhanced the experience. By the time the band walked off stage, a good time was indeed had by all.

Thanks to everyone that was a part of it, from organizers, to volunteers, to patrons…it was a blast, at least from my perspective.

Now…who’ll come next year?



-Crash-

I Dreamed a Dream Within a Dream, Within a Movie...

Inception is the rare blockbuster that provides you with huge action scenes, explosions, car chases and good looking stars, all the while demanding your full attention. As the viewer, your eyes focus on the stunning visuals, while your mind gets destroyed by the complexity of the story. A Michael Bay movie, this is not.

Set in a somewhat futuristic present day world, Inception stars Leonardo DiCaprio as Dom Cobb, a professional thief who specializes in stealing from people’s dreams. He takes on one last job with his team (Joseph Gordon Levitt, Tom Hardy plus new recruit Ellen Page) from a Japanese business man (Ken Watanabe) who promises to erase his vague legal issues, which will allow Cobb to reunite with his two children, who are back home in the States.

To explain any further only gives things away. I can tell you, though, that this “one last job” is not to steal an idea form the “mark” (played by Cillian Murphy), but to implant one; a feat which is said to be impossible. At the very least, “inception” involves a considerable amount of risk, and hence, a thriller is born.

Christopher Nolan has proven his worth to me more times than one. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed all of his films, (even Insomnia, which isn't as highly regarded) and his screen-writing abilities only further intrigue me. (How does a mind like his exist?) A common theme among his films is jumping back and forth between time frames within the film, creating an intricate puzzle that can leave the viewer confused, yet wholly satisfied by film’s end.

As someone who commonly remembers his dreams, I was blown away with how detailed and intricate the script was in dealing with the human subconscious. I’ve picked apart my own dreams to figure out what certain themes may represent, or how seemingly random moments and people from your life can just pop-up within these - as I like to put it - “movies of the mind.” With Inception, Nolan incorporates all of these ideas, and explains them in a way that is existential, yes, but without the common art-house pretentiousness. After all, this is a heist film at its core; and what is a summer blockbuster without action?

The film is shot beautifully, with, most importantly for this film fan, limited CGI. The zero gravity fight scene, which rivals anything from the Matrix, was done with a rotating set & cable work. This method allows the viewer to believe the unbelievable aspects of this world, because it doesn’t look like it was done with a computer.

At 2 ½ hours, the film didn’t feel long to me. In fact, it moved along at pretty slick pace, which was heightened by the fantastic score which underlined the entire film. I sensed both the urgency and the excitement that was being presented, and I was completely hooked form the beginning. As I mentioned before, my eyes were locked on the visuals, while my mind was being blown apart. A movie that does that is worth viewing again…and in this case, you’ll probably have to just to fully-grasp its complexity.


5 Dented Bumpers*



*Crash’s Film Rating Legend:
5 DB’s -- Freaking Fantastic! (a rating that’s not easily attained.)
4–4.5 DB’s -- Great: It’s worth seeing again/owning.
3–3.5 DB’s -- Decent – Good (I’d watch it again on cable)
2–2.5 DB’s -- Meh; (possibly had potential, but I won’t watch it again)
1DB -- Awful; I want my money back.

Anything less is not even worth downloading illegally

A Fist-Pump to the Sky...

I love when callers are excited to win tickets...Like Mike was to get Fred Rock tickets this morning. Only problem: he didn't actually get the trivia answer correct, lol....I gave the tickets to him...eventually. Check out the audio below.

The Fox is the Official Radio Station of Fred Rock Go here to learn more.



-Crash-

The Boy Who Cried Foul...

So, I struck out in slow pitch… twice… in my first game.

It was this utter humiliation that drove me to avoid playing on my new team for 5 weeks. (Not true…but it's much sadder this way) Either way, this past Sunday I made my return to The Slammers <- my Sunday's only beer-league-type slow pitch team. The heat was on. (No really; it was in the 30's…and humid.)

Seeing as how, for various reasons including a couple rain postponements and my own wedding, I hadn't played with the team since that fateful first outing, I'm dead-last in the batting order. The pressure to actually get on base was outstanding, and I had lots of time to agonize over my first at-bat.

The first pitch is thrown. I count: one...two... swing on three.

Whiff!

It was a swing and a miss, followed by laughter from our dugout; followed by cursing under my breath.

The 2nd Pitch

Contact is made (though barely). The ball grounds to the short-stop who decided to throw to third for the out rather than catch me at first. I was on base…fielder's choice, yes, but I was on base. Mission Accomplished. My stats still sucked, but beefing those up from the comedic Zero was never the goal of the day…a pipe dream, perhaps, but never a goal.

My next at bat was similar to the first, except this time the fielder elected to throw to first for the out. (I won't be focusing on my defensive play; The day wasn't about that. Although I did get an assist, we don't keep track of defensive stats, so…why try so hard?)

For my final at-bat of the game I stepped to the plate, amidst tremendous scrutiny and jeering from my teammates (If you know me at all, you know I dish it out as well as the best of them). The pitch is thrown.

Contact is made. I drive it deep into left field. So deep, in fact, that it sails over the netting designed to keep balls in the park. That's right, reader; I nailed one out of the park. My team was in shock from awe. I felt fantastic; it was the best contact a bat I'd swung had ever made with a softball.

It was foul.

So, while my story loses its impressiveness at this point, I have a reason to look forward to next weekend and a new goal to work toward: making it to second base.

-Crash-

Third Time's a Charm!

After two failed attempts, I was finally able to make my interview with Steve Mazur of Our Lady Peace happen. We talked for about 15 minutes. This is what made the air:

"MACGRUBER!!! He made a movie that's not really worth watching MACGRUBER!!!!"

Signs the movie you are about to watch sucks:

1) The guy that rips your ticket smirks as he says: “enjoy your movie”
2) There are 8 people in the theatre; 1/4 of them came with you.
3) Everyone you know who’s seen it says it sucks.
4) The Previews beforehand feature this, this and this.

MacGruber had all of these signs going in, plus it was playing in Theatre 5, Death Row for movies playing in Fredericton, only two weeks after its release.** All of this aside, I was curious. Maybe I’m just a sucker for punishment, but I had to know for myself.

MacGruber, as a recurring sketch on SNL, makes me laugh; mainly because of Will Forte. Not everyone likes him, but I find his dead-pan delivery hilarious. The sketch works because it’s only about 5 minutes long. The film, however, is 88 minutes.

I’m not going to lie, MacGruber made me laugh, but the laughs came way too sporadically for a movie of its nature. When jokes start getting repeated, it gets old…especially when it was old the first time (MacGruber’s nemesis in the film, played by a bloated, hammy Val Kilmer, is named Dieter Von Cunth…think about it) The story doesn’t really matter in a film like this, but the script has to be sharp to keep my interest in between laughs and MacGruber just didn’t do that

The actors do what they can, and as I said there are some genuinely funny things in this movie. It was nice to see Ryan Phillipe going for some laughs as opposed to being Mr. Serious all the time; I’ve already expressed my dissatisfaction with Val Kilmer (what happened to this guy!?). Kristen Wiig & Will Forte have a good chemistry and great comic timing and ability; it’s just too bad they couldn’t have shown a bit more of that here.

Overall, the experience wasn’t a total wash. MacGruber is not the worst SNL movie (It’s Pat) nor is it anywhere near the best (Wayne’s World). I wasn’t let down because my expectations were so low going in, there was no way to climb but up; after seeing the previews for Resident Evil: Afterlife & Piranha 3D, nothing I was going to watch could’ve possibly been worse.

2 Dented Bumpers.*

*Crash’s Film Rating Legend:
5 DB’s -- Freaking Fantastic! (a rating that’s not easily attained.)
4–4.5 DB’s -- Great: It’s worth seeing again/owning.
3–3.5 DB’s -- Decent – Good (I’d watch it again on cable)
2–2.5 DB’s -- Meh; (possibly had potential, but I won’t watch it again)
1DB -- Awful; I want my money back.

Anything less is not even worth downloading illegally


** As of this posting, MacGruber is no longer playing in Fredericton. (it played for 2 weeks)

A Love Born Out of Spite

The year was 1967. It was the year my father, a mild-mannered, shy, quiet soul, fell in love. This love would become strong, unwavering and not without its hardships.

No, this is not the kind of love that would eventually manifest itself into the handsome young man writing this entry for you today. That love would come later on. This love, was a love born out of spite. It is a love I, myself share. Oddly enough, I owe it all to fans of the Montreal Canadiens.

In 1967, Matthew Barton was certainly aware of hockey, but had never fully jumped into the realm of full-on die hard fandom. He knew of the teams, and he certainly knew the game. My father and his brothers would grow to become synonymous with a twice a week ice-time at the local arena; If you hadn’t played “Barton Boys” hockey, you hadn’t played hockey.

Now, while he had yet to accept the hopeful, glorious highs along with the desperate, bitter lows of choosing a sports team in which he could rest his faith, he was most certainly aware of the kind of attitude needed to be a “die-hard”. Anyone (whether knowing the game or not) who has looked at their Twitter/Facebook feed during the Stanley Cup playoffs this year is also blatantly aware of the utter ridiculousness of it all – yup, I said it.

Here’s the deal: In ’67 the Montreal Canadiens were poised to win their third consecutive Stanley Cup, after ousting Detroit & Chicago, respectively, in the two years prior. So, naturally, Habs fans (and I’m referencing Seinfeld here) had “hand” in their relationship with fans of other teams. So, like any fan with “hand”, these Habs fans – these friends and school-mates of my father – started chirping. The only thing worse than a chirping fan, is a chirping Habs fan. (You know my affiliation, so don’t even bother to defend, here.)

Yes, my father is mild-mannered, and shy…he is also stubborn and antagonistic (traits I can concede he has passed on to his children). The latter traits will trump most any other if he cares enough; and in 1967, my father cared. He cared, not for who he thought would be the best hockey team; not for who had the most cups…he cared about silencing the chirping. He cared about serenity. If another team were to beat the Canadiens and win the cup, my father knew he could go to school and not have to put up with the overzealous boasting that, until now, wasn’t even directed at him. That’s how bad it was and he’d had enough.

So, Matthew Barton, the antagonist, began to truly watch hockey, but he needed a team. He had to root for someone: a team that could be better than Montreal, a team that, by winning a game in general, could piss of an entire nation of Habs fans. He chose The Toronto Maple Leafs.

The Leafs won the cup that year; playing Montreal in the Stanley Cup finals, taking them out at home in game 6. They haven’t won another since. Montreal would go on to win the following year, and many years thereafter, but in 1967: the chirping was silenced. My father found peace. My father fell in love…with the Toronto Maple Leafs.

Hey, Dad, listen…the chirping has stopped again for the year. Here’s to you, and here’s to 2011.

Even The Losers Get Lucky Sometimes

The Losers are a macho group of rag-tag military guys with nicknames as cliché as the rest of the movie itself (see poster above for nicknames). Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

The first scene arbitrarily sets up the premise: A 5-man military unit is on a mission. The unit is set-up; the mission goes bad, and they’re left for dead. The gang goes off the grid until a mystery woman offers to help them get their lives back and then spend the rest of the film exacting revenge on man they know only by his voice and a name: Max.

Max is fantastic, by the way. Jason Patrick, not necessarily known for light-hearted fare, injects snarky humour into the heartless bad-guy. He steals each scene he is in and, at least for me, he made this movie. The rest of the cast are as cliché as you’d expect in a B-class comic book movie. (Is The Losers even considered B-class?) Each of the Losers has his own specialty and they crack wise and act macho, but they all have a heart of gold...or do they?

There’s plenty of over the top action, complete with double crosses. The good guys are all perfectly accurate while the bad guys have the reflexes of turtles. There’s a cool state-of-the-art terrorist weapon that is there to have something to stop at the last second, and there’s even a love-story; but it’s merely a blip. Zoe Sandala is basically in it to look good; which I’m fine with.

Overall, The Losers is a TV Movie with a bigger budget. At the same time, that’s the beauty of it. It doesn’t take itself too seriously and that’s why I had fun. It had action; it had laughs; and it sets up nicely for a sequel. How could I expect anything more?

3 Dented Bumpers*


*Crash’s Film Rating Legend:
5 DB’s -- Freaking Fantastic! (a rating that’s not easily attained, btw)
4–4.5 DB’s -- Great: It’s worth seeing again/owning.
3–3.5 DB’s -- Decent – Good (I’d watch it again on cable)
2–2.5 DB’s -- Meh; (possibly had potential, but I won’t watch it again)
1DB -- Awful; I want my money back.

Anything less is not even worth downloading illegally

Unicorns & rainbows...and Telfer...

The Guys from Telfer dropped in for a chat today. It's always a good time when they stop by. Check out the interview & performance...and hear a story about their "beef' with Ross Neilsen...



And here it is - Thanks to Telfer - in actual Video Form:

My DJ Day Was Rad...

Ross Neilsen & The Sufferin' Bastards have a new album for your listening pleasure and on Friday, Ross, Shawn & Karl dropped into the Fox-Hole to chat about it, and the Release Party...plus they performed one of my favourites from Redemption: "What I Can"...hear it here:

Another Love Letter To My Favourite Music

“Hope,
A new beginning
Time,
Time to start living
Like just before we died

There's no going back
To the place we started from…”

-From All Secrets Known by Alice In Chains

Black Gives Way To Blue is an album that shows Alice in Chains as a band re-emerging from dark times – their lead singer, Layne Staley, died in 2002 – to not only pay tribute to their friend, but also to prove that they’re a band with more to say . The album opens with the aptly titled All Secrets Known; a song that shows a broken band picking up the pieces and carrying on doing what they do. Rightfully so, that song also begins their live set.

With the lights down, the album’s bare-heart logo is projected onto a white curtain covering the front of the stage. With nothing more than the sound of a heartbeat, anticipation builds as that familiar “thump, thump” grows increasingly more hurried. Then he appears.

A 30 foot silhouette of Jerry Cantrell towers over the nearly sold out crowd at the Civic Center in Portland, ME. This is the first time Alice in Chains has played a show in the city for 20 years; anticipation has now reached a boiling point. Cantrell raises his arms in the air to a cacophony of cheers. He begins the opening riff of All Secrets Known and the rest of the band appears, silhouetted on the curtain.

“...Time to start living; like just before we died...” Cantrell sings. The curtain drops. “There’s no going back, to the place we started from”, the crowd erupts at their first true glimpse at a band resurrected; a band on fire. They played for nearly two hours.

To say my opinion of the band is biased, is entirely expected; I’m a huge AIC fan. However, as I’ve mentioned in this blog before, I’m a fan of music with meaning. What excites me about this band is their ability to convey emotion in what they do; both musically and lyrically.

Many bands will say how their albums are reflections of where they were at the time they recorded them. The same can be said for Alice In Chains. Looking back on it, they laid it completely on the line; wearing their hearts on their sleeves. Layne Staley’s drug addictions (and let’s face it, the rest of the bands demons) are prominent features of the bands material; especially the last album with Layne.

As for live performances, the Portland show was my first time experiencing the band live - other than on a DVD. I’m well aware of the haunting performance that was given for the bands MTV Unplugged session (rivalling that of even Nirvana for the distinction of the best in the series, if you ask me). This performance - while loose, fun and technically stunning - is filled with sadness. Staley looked like he was on his last legs then and yet he still “lived” for 6 more years; simply chilling.

A lot was said when William Duvall took over vocal duties for the band in 2005. Many claimed you could not have Alice in Chains without Staley. Well, for my money, he more than handled the back-catalogue with ease and exuberance, making the songs not only as memorable as they were when originally recorded, but making them his own. He’s a fantastic vocalist and he’s also no slouch when it comes to guitar. Trading guitar parts with Cantrell as much as he traded vocal duties, Duvall proves himself worthy of being in this band.

The show I saw was filled many a memorable moment - The opening from behind the curtain was certainly one of them - but it was the introduction of the band that will stand out as one of the most memorable, for me. Taking a moment to introduce each member, before introducing himself, Jerry Cantrell confirms what the crowd is already gleefully aware: “(they) are Alice in Chains”. This was followed by a touching tribute to their lost friend which transitioned into a haunting performance of Nutshell – you could almost see the pain in Jerry’s eyes as he began. Woah.

Alice in Chains has shared their emotions with every album; with, presumably, every live performance. Amidst the aggression of their music is a soul that beats beautifully; it may be scarred, but therein lies its character. The band I saw on stage in Portland last week is a band that has lived through the grief and sadness to only appear that much stronger, conveying that very emotion with each song - the black has given way to blue - I can’t wait to experience it again.

-Crash-
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Make a Date Night to See Date Night With Your Date...Tonight...

As an engaged man approaching a Summer wedding, I’m more than aware of the amount of jokes related to how “romance is almost over” for me. However, after watching a movie like Date Night, I’m made aware that it’s not that romance is over; it’s just that life (and in this case, Kill-shots) can sometimes get in the way.

Steve Carell & Tina Fey play The Fosters: a happy, albeit slightly bored married couple, with two children, who have to schedule their dates… often times forgetting they’ve done so. After friends reveal they plan to split, The Fosters, worrying they’ll endure the same fate, decide to change it up a bit. Rather than hit up their usual New Jersey date night watering hole, they head for Manhattan for a night on the town at a swanky new restaurant. There’s only one problem: they don’t have a reservation.

So, while waiting for a table (which they’ll never get) they decide, in the spirit of spontaneity, that they’ll take a table reserved for no-shows, The Tripplehorns. From here comes mistaken identities, car chases, gun fights and a shirtless Mark Wahlberg. The basic premise is as far-fetched as what transpires on the screen, but it’s made believable, or at the very least acceptable, because of the way Carell & Fey play it. The two leads show great chemistry and comic timing and you believe them as the Fosters - a couple in love that just wants the best for each other.

Tina Fey essentially plays the suburban mom version of her character in 30 Rock (which is perfectly fine) but Carell is especially great as Phil. He takes all of the awkwardness and despicable qualities of Michael Scott and trades them in to play a down-to-earth regular Joe with just enough charm to make you want to be friends with the guy. It’s almost as if her were playing the role of Jim (pre-management position, or course) from the Office and making it his own.

Sure, it’s silly and things get over the top, but this is a comedy; as long as you laugh, who cares if that car chase isn’t at all possible. I laughed a lot, and I admired the heart of the film. If you don’t see your own relationship played out on screen, you will most likely know someone to compare it to. At the very least, you’ll walk away learning one valuable lesson: don’t take someone else’s reservation.

3.5 Dented Bumpers*



*Crash’s Film Rating Legend:
5 DB’s -- Freaking Fantastic! (a rating that’s not easily attained, btw)
4–4.5 DB’s -- Great: It’s worth seeing again/owning.
3–3.5 DB’s -- Decent – Good (I’d watch it again on cable)
2–2.5 DB’s -- Meh; (possibly had potential, but I won’t watch it again)
1DB -- Awful; I want my money back.

Anything less is not even worth downloading illegally