DoktaKra.com

If you're wondering why I haven't posted anything here in two months, it's not just because I've been lazy (though that's certainly a part of it). In between covering the NBA Draft and several other Sacramento Kings-related events -- I've actually written 13 NBA articles in the last two months -- Michelle and I were also out of the country for two weeks in early June.  We traveled through Germany and England, and I've finally found the time and motivation to bring you some stories, random observations, and anecdotes from our trip.  Though if you want to skip straight to the photo album, I won't blame you one bit. 

Wedding in Bavaria

Instead of a "Just Married" sign, the bride and groom had a Star Trek starship and a Spock figurine on the hood of their card.  Considering that Michelle and I met at a sports bloggers' happy-hour, I'm really in no position to pass any judgement here.

During the wedding, several guests competed to see who could crow the loudest, which is apparently some kind of German tradition.  The winner then had to stand up and crow at the top of his lungs once an hour, and buy dinner for the bride and groom each time he'd forget.  I don't get it either, but you'd better believe Michelle and I will be holding some kind of equally-awesome contest to get people to do funny things at our wedding.

Neuschwanstein Castle, Germany

The castle itself is amazingly beautiful, though, as we were constantly reminded, incomplete because King Ludwig II and his psychiatrist mysteriously drowned in a nearby lake during construction (there should really be a movie about this).  If I didn't have an irrational fear of stairs, especially narrow ones atop gigantic rocks, I probably would've enjoyed the hike down the scenic path above a waterfall a little more (many more pictures in the album).

Tour of Munich

Since we were there a month ago, neither of us remembers exactly what we saw from the bus.  I've captioned most of the photos as, "something on our tour of Munich" -- very helpful and informative, I know.

From what I do remember, on the left is The Glockenspiel (I love the sound of German), which has chimes, bells, and moving figures that re-enact some kind of very long story, in the Marienplatz city center; in the middle is the fantastic view (and I don't mean just us) from the top of the Olympic Tower; and on the right, you'll find Michelle posing like Athena the Goddess in Nymphenburg Palace.

The Beer and Food

Yep, nothing like getting beer served by the liter.  Did I finish it?  Not even close.  Did it get me a just tad tipsy?  Perhaps...and mine was actually half-lemonade.

Of course, Germany is extremely pro-vegetarian -- just look at all of those ripe tomatoes next to the globs of cured meat!  My typical dinner consisted of four pretzels and this zucchini schnitzel that tastes as good as it looks (which is surprisingly awesome).

Kings of Germany

Perhaps the highlight of the trip (at least for me) came during our walk through in the English Gardens, which, confusingly enough, is in Munich and contains the Chinese Garden (above). We stopped to watch a drum circle in the park, and noticed a familiar sight.  Yep, one of the drummers was wearing a vintage Sacramento Kings jacket.  I mean, honestly, of all teams and in all places, what are the odds of this happening?

Petting Zoo in Bavaria

My other favorite part was the petting zoo, where sheep, goats, llamas, and pigs walk around freely and eat out of your hand.  We tried to get the baby goat's attention, but he clearly wasn't interested in what I had to offer him (that's him dissing me by walking away in the background).

And amongst the crowd of pigs on the right, of course, is the infamous, overanxious one that bit Michelle, who then tried to convince me to eat bacon to defend her honor...

Quick Views of London

We spent a few days doing some of the touristy things in London, all of which were fun but none of which are all that exciting to discuss in much detail.  Let's just go through these from left to right: standing in front of Buckingham Palace after the changing of the guard; the view from the London Eye (basically an enormous Ferris wheel); and outside of the Tower of London. 

Michelle and her friend Phil rocked American flag capes during the United States vs. England World Cup game. I figured no one would pick a fight with Phil because he's 12 feet tall or Michelle because she's so cute, but I stayed out of the patriotic displays for my own safety. U-S-A!

Also, I Tweeted this at the time, but it's worth mentioning again -- this was in the men's room at one of the London pubs, and doesn't cease to make me laugh.

And finally, we have Michelle looking beautiful at Kensington Gardens, and me, doing what I do best after an exhausting two weeks.

When I heard that Common would be appearing at the NBA Store today to promote his new movie, Just Wright, I called him a sell-out on Twitter.  I immediately received replies from people who disagreed -- including someone who worked on the movie set -- and claimed that he had the right to pursue an acting career.

In retrospect, maybe "sell-out" wasn't the right word. It was just easier than saying, "I can't believe my one-time favorite, underground rapper has become an aspiring Hollywood actor who's now irrelevant in hip-hop and no longer cares about putting out quality music."  That, and "sell out" fit within the 140-character Twitter limit.

I've been with Common (Sense) since the very beginning, and I didn't suddenly turn on him for no reason.  I still remember hearing "I Used to Love H.E.R." and being blown away by the beautifully crafted concept of "Hip Hop in its Essence and Real."  The cool kids in my (mostly white, suburban) middle school who were into rap had no idea who Common even was -- for a while, his lyricism and intellectual wordplay on Resurrection, my all-time favorite album, was almost like my little secret.

I picked up his witty debut, Can I Borrow A Dollar?, found some of his early '90's demo tapes, and bought One Day It'll All Make Sense (1996), a deep and nostalgic trip through his past, on the day it was released.  When Common became more widely known and recognized after Like Water For Chocolate (2000) -- I was shocked that my girlfriend at the time thought he was hot -- I performed his commercial hit, "The Light," at my high school talent show.

As a sophomore in college, I stared at the cover of the poorly-reviewed, electronica and rock-inspired Electric Circus, briefly considering leaving it sealed in the shrink-wrap to preserve the good memories of his past works, before finding the courage to to open it.  My friends and I went to a few of his shows when he toured in New York, and when I talked to Common after a performance, he sounded genuinely proud and excited to take hip-hop into another direction -- one that I, and many others, didn't appreciate.  I thought I'd never hear the same poetic prophet and self-righteous rhyme artist I grew to love.

A few years later, seeing Common and Kanye West perform "The Food" on Chappelle's Show was like hearing from an old friend I thought was long gone.  But while Be, and the subsequent Finding Forever were some of his best and most vibrant albums, Common expressed a growing desire to get into acting.  The writing had been on the wall for a few years, after he'd written jingles and appeared in commercials for conglomerates Coca-Cola and The Gap.

Many of his rap peers had already established themselves in Hollywood: former N.W.A.'er Ice Cube was putting out family comedies; Original Gangster Ice-T went from causing controversy with "Cop Killer" to playing a cop on Law & Order: SVU less than a decade later; LL Cool J had a couple of notable movie roles and would soon do his best David Caruso impression on NCIS: Los Angeles; and Snoop Dogg endorsed every imaginable product by adding "izzle" at the end of its name.

I never thought I'd see the day when Common would be following in their footsteps, but I didnt fault him for earning more money, as long as his music didn't suffer as a result.  Instead, when his long-awaited Invincible Summer came out in December 2008 under the title of Universal Mind Control, my biggest fears were realized.

I would've been okay had Common decided to become a full-time actor and left the rap game entirely, if it spared me from listening to a rushed, 10-track, 39-minute album filed with unclever sexual references and clichéd dance tracks like the gag-worthy "Sex 4 Suga."  Whether it was a conscious decision to appeal to a broader audience by sounding like Ludacris or T.I., or lack of time from filming his parts in American Gangster and Smokin' Aces, Common dumbed down his conscience-provoking style for unimaginative narratives -- “Check my dictionary / That ass is so defined” -- and ditched the smooth, jazzy production of Kanye West, the late J. Dilla, and No ID for the Neptunes’ pop beats.

The man who chastised hip-hop for getting "caught in the Hype Williams" and losing H.E.R. direction on The Roots' -- who casual fans now know as the house band on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon  -- "Act Too (Love of My Life)," shot a video for Universal's lead single with (who else?) Hype Williams.

On "Announcement," possibly his raunchiest song to date, Common alluded to his past glory in unexpected and heart-breaking fashion -- "I still love H.E.R., she be needing the d*** / When it comes to hip hop it's just me and my b****."  Whoa.  I had to rewind and listen to that part four or five times to make sure I heard him correctly.

Since the album's release, Common's landed a supporting role in Date Night and the lead in Just Wright, a romantic basketball movie with another rapper-turned-actor, Queen Latifah.  Meanwhile, he's promised "raw hip-hop" on his upcoming album, The Believer, which is slated to come out sometime this year.  Until, of course, another script comes his way.  

I really did used to love H.I.M.

I was excited when I received a jury duty summons in the mail.  Sure, I'd probably sit around doing nothing, but I'd also get a couple of paid days off, get up later than usual, and come home earlier.  And if I didn't have a job, I would've pocketed a cool $40 a day.  What could be so bad about this?

My first order of business was ensuring that I wouldn't get selected as a juror.  I didn't cut my hair and grew out a fantastic beard to look a little more intimidating...or at least more of a mess than I usually am.  

Now, does that look like the face of a man who should be deciding another person's future?

But my plan began to unravel when my name was on one of 120 pieces of paper drawn from a ballot box (it's almost endearing that they haven't embraced the whole automated craze yet).  I was directed into a court room, where the judge asked if anyone couldn't be impartial, and -- well, that was just about the only question I heard, because I noticed the district attorney had something stuck in his bushy mustache and spent the next 15 minutes trying to figure out if it was oatmeal or a piece of hot dog,

After a two-hour lunch -- a staple in the court house, as I learned -- 24 people were randomly chosen from the ballot box to be jury finalists.  I was the second one called.  Of course I was.

I had to answer a few basic questions from the judge and both attorneys -- and by the way, it's always fun to talk about where you live and what you do for a living in front of an alleged criminal -- to show that I wasn't prejudiced.  I told them my dad was recently held up at gun point (true story) and that my cousin works for a law firm, figuring at least one of those facts, combined with the disheveled appearance, would be enough for disqualification.  Not a chance -- I was the first juror put on trial.

The case was stretched out over five excruciatingly long days, during which I learned an exorbiant amount of information about the drug market, such as, a gram of cocaine goes for $28 on the street and an eightball, which is 3.5 grams, sells for $100 (no idea who decided to make the math so damn hard).  The defendant talked to a drug dealer who sold cocaine to an undercover police officer and stood on the corner where it happened, looking up and down the streets.  The dealer then came over and gave him the full $100 from the drug sale a minute later.  Now, does that sound like the defendant had at least something to do with it?

As the first juror, I was assigned as the foreperson, meaning I had the life-altering job of announcing the verdict to the court room.  I started practicing saying, "on the charge of drug trafficing in the third degree, we, the jury, find the defendant ... (extended dramatic pause) .. guilty" in my head.

Of course, one of the 12 jurors had to mess everything up and insist he didn't think the defendant was guilty, because despite receiving the money from the dealer, he may not have known it was from selling drugs.  Seriously.  Instead of deliberating for all of 20 minutes, we spent the next nine hours locked in a windowless room, trying to convince the outcast juror that his line of reasoning defied all logic and common sense.  In the end, I had to announce that we were deadlocked and the disappointed judge announced a hung jury. 

But wait, there's the twist -- just like in a real Law & Order episode!  The defendant wasn't in court for the last four days of the trial, but we were instructed to disregard his absence because it was his right  In fairness, he was out on bail, and could've been in the hospital or taking care of his kids, for all we knew.   

Except he wasn't -- he skipped town and the police are still out looking for him.  The judge ruled that the jury couldn't be made aware of this fact during our deliberations.  I love our judicial system.  Because, you know, an innocent person would take off in the middle of trial and all...

On the bright side, we received a free lunch courtesy of the taxpayers on the last day.  So there's that.  And I don't have to deal with this nonsense for at least the next six years.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I really need to shave.

I'm on a Twitter trivia roll.  After winning a Tyreke Evans bobblehead from the Sacramento Kings earlier in the week, I won yesterday's contest to assist New York Knicks legend John Starks during his appearance at the NBA Store.  As I've stated many times, I am an encyclopedia of useless sports knowledge.

When I arrived at the store, the attendants quickly suited me up in Zipway gear from head to toe.  What is Zipway, you ask?  Well, Starks wasn't there to just chat with the fans, but to promote his own athletic apparel company, which claims that you can rip off your pants in 0.3 seconds.  I, for one, am in full support of anything that speeds up the removal of my clothing.  I competed against Starks and another contestant in a "zip-off," and although, I shockingly wasn't quite as fast or coordinated as a former professional athlete, I received a pity prize won a $25 gift card (too bad Zipway doesn't make any Kings apparel, John).

I took a picture with Starks -- unfortunately, I only had my my crappy cell phone camera -- and also received a personalized signed picture of "The Dunk" (it's in my hand, if you look closely).  I briefly talked with him about the epic battles with his arch-nemesis Reggie Miller and the Indiana Pacers in the mid-'90's, which he called "fun" and "good times."  I asked him about being a one-time teammate of Mitch Richmond, my favorite player, way back in the day on the Golden State Warriors.

"We came up together (in 1988),"  Starks told me. " Mitch is a great guy -- one of the best you'll meet."

I then shot around on the center basketball hoop -- if you've never been to the store, there's a regulation half-court shooting area in the middle of the lower level -- where Starks signed autographs and greeted the fans, as hundreds of other people looked on from the upper floor.  A few contestants then entered a free throw shooting contest, and I rebounded their misses and passed the ball back to Starks.  During intermissions, he and I alternated taking shots.

It's probably the closest I'll ever come to feeling like an NBA player, and I didn't even embarrass myself too badly despite not touching a basketball since last summer -- no turnovers, three straight mid-range jumpers at one point, and only one ugly airball.

Hey, it's better than going 2-for-18, right?

It's hard to believe that it's been over 25 years since Mr. T made his groundbreaking debut as Clubber Lang in Rocky III or that he's only made sporadic TV show and movie appearances since The A-Team last aired in 1987.   That's probably because this helluva tough man has never met an endorsement deal he didn't like, lending his name to all kinds of embarrassing advertisements and merchandise.  It's now gotten to the point where it's difficult to not be pitied by Mr. T, when he continues to insult fools who, among many other things, don't eat Snickers, play World of Warcraft, buy Hitachi Data Systems, wear Hanes double tough socks, or use his Flavorwave Oven.  

After sifting through over 3,000 of his products on eBay, I've decided to highlight a few of my favorite finds, all of which encompass his trademark mohawk, gold jewelry, and of course, the hilarious, but never outplayed catchphrases.  And if you're wondering, Michelle has forbidden me from buying any of these, which is somewhat understandable since I already own two dozen Rocky figures (not dolls, as her father calls them).  Let's get to it.

Mr. T's Water War:  From what I understand, you hook this Mr. T head to a hose, and wait for one of your friends to run in front of it (or for a neighbor to walk over to find out why the hell there's a Mr. T head on your lawn).  You then hurl a wet sponge at Mr. T's head (note: I don't recommend throwing anything at Mr. T, under any circumstances), and he humiliates the person by squirting water into the sucka's face.  That'll team 'em to quit their jibba jabber.

Mr T. Super Teeny Bouncers:   When you're as comfortable with your masculinity as Mr. T, there's no reason why you can't endorse a product that claims your balls are not only super teeny, but also "unbelievably bouncy."  I'm pretty sure most of us would've been okay without knowing either of those facts.

Mr. T Gold Chain Bubble Gum: That's right, chewy wonderfulness apparently shaped like one of Mr. T's chains. From the looks of it, the flavor is actually "gold chain." He even manages to push his other merchandise on the packaging, informing us that he "pities the fool that passes up the offer on the back." Of course he does.

Mr. T Chia Pet:  If you're anything like me, then you've undoubtedly dreamed of growing a mohawk, but couldn't do it on your own head without being ridiculed by your friends and likely fired from your job. Problem solved!  Originally given to a select few during a 1996 TV Land promotion, it now goes for around $40 in mint condition.  A bargain, if you ask me.

Mr. T Cereal:  When Mr. T insists that "it's cool" about 14 times in the commercial, you figure it has to be pretty damn awesome.  The problem is that the cereal is nothing more than plain, yellow T-shaped "Cap'n Crunch" pieces.  Now, if it had marshmallow Mr. T heads, then you'd better believe I'd eat a bowl right now.  I wouldn't even care that it was discontinued shortly after it was released in 1984.

Mr. T Air Freshener:  I'll admit this air freshener is a hell of a lot more intimidating than one of those wimpy pine trees.  But as nice as it would be to have Mr. T's scent with me at all times, I'm not sure I want my car to smell like a large, sweaty man...well, more so than it does already.

Mr. T's Commandments:  On the heels of his motivational video,  "Be Somebody...or Be Somebody's Fool! (best title ever?), Mr. T released a seven-track children's rap album.  Along with memorable hits like the jazz-influenced, "The Toughest Man in the World," "No Dope, No Drugs," and the touching "Mr. T, Mr. T (He Was Made for Love)," it includes the indescribable, "Treat Your Mother Right."  Go ahead and watch this video I guaranteed it'll be the best three minutes of your day.  

Mr. T Eraser: I couldn't find one in the original packaging, so I don't know if the legs are sold separately from the inexplicably pale and creepy torso. Nor can I confirm (but strongly suspect) the tag line is, "I pity the fool who makes mistakes!"

Mr. T Rubber Duckie:  I won't lie, I'd be a little frightened to get into the tub next to one of these things myself, much less allow my child to get within 10 feet of it.  But if you dare, I'd recommend getting this fantastic Mr. T Soap on a Rope to complement your bathing experience and wash your armpits with his face.

Mr. T Super Hero Disguise / Mr. T Pez Dispenser:  Gah, it can see into my soul!  Good luck sleeping tonight...

Last year, I broke down a small sample of the most ridiculous R. Kelly lyrics I've ever heard, from his profanity-laced "REAL TALK" to his desire to propose to a buttocks.  To be fair, I'm not sure there's a single song in Kellz's extensive catalog that doesn't include some kind of head-scratching, cringe-worthy line...or ten.  The man simply has a gift for penning ill-fated sexual metaphors and similes, and I'm not ashamed to admit that I enjoy them a little too much.  If a recent acquittal on multiple child-pornography charges didn't stop him from bringing the crazy, then clearly, nothing ever will.  Here is Part II of this immensely enjoyable (at least for me) exercise in absurdity.

"Customer (Remix)" (from Raheem DeVaughn's Love Behind the Melody):  As the title suggests, the two singers allow a female customer to order various items from their respective menus.  Perhaps you can overlook Kelly referring to himself as "Chef Boy-R. Kellz" and claiming that that he'll "put that roast in your oven," but he, of all people, wouldn't dare go there, would he?  Yes, yes he would -- "shorty, if you're thirsty, I got some good, good lemonade."  Wow...just wow.

"In the Kitchen," TP.3 Reloaded:  Another song, another masterful display of storytelling:  "Sex in the kitchen over by the stove / Put you on the counter by the buttered rolls / Hands on the table, on your tippy toes / We'll be making love like the restaurant was closed."  Nothing out of the ordinary, really -- until Kellz blurts out, "Girl, I'm rea-dy to toss your sa-lad!!" at the 1:52 mark.  That, even after all of this time, I did not see coming.

"Pregnant," Untitled:  The self-proclaimed sexasaurus cuts to the chase within the first five seconds of this remarkable ode to child-bearing: “Girl I want to get you pregnant -- knock you up!”  You see, when a player find a woman with "an unbelievable booty," who's "more than a mistress," he must "handle [his] business and put that girl in [his] kitchen."  Truer words have never been spoken.  I still can't decide if I find this song to be brilliant, humiliating, uplifting, embarrassing, unreal, and/or genius.  Although, maybe this is just me, but despite Kellz's best intentions to make this a sensual slow jam, I'd be a little hesitant to have this playing in the background if I brought a woman into my bedroom.

Also of note is the unexpected reappearance of Tyrese, who almost outshines Kellz by apparently thinking it's 2001 and telling the object of his affections, "I can have you co-starring and get in one of my new movies ... I can make you famous."  Sure you can, Ty...sure you can.

"Echo," Untitled:  Inexplicably yodeling at the end of 1997's "Can We Get Up On a Room" (R) was obviously not enough, as Kellz decided it was time to bring back the lost art form a dozen years later on the chorus of his latest single.  Like I've said all along, alpine exuberance is exactly what contemporary R&B has been missing:  "Yo-de-lay, yo-de-lay, yo-de-lay hoo-hoo / Got you sounding like you're screaming from a mountain peak."  Only in R. Kelly's universe is yodeling a sexual aphrodisiac, but rest assured, he very clearly explains his reasoning.

"Whole Lotta Kisses," Untitled:  I almost skipped over this generic and relatively boring track, but listened long enough to be treated to one of Kelly's stranger comparisons:  "Bury myself all in you, as if you were my grave."  Wait, what??  I'm no king of R&B, but I can't think of a more guaranteed mood killer during a make-out session than that.

Well, unless you attempt to compare a woman's love to going to church -- she's even "got a n***a waking up extra early on Sunday" (!) -- and then tell her that she reminds you of your mother, both of which Kellz does within a span of a minute on "Religious" (I guess he forgot that he already broached this topic on 1995's "Religious Love").  Sigh, it's like he's not even trying sometimes.

Look, if Kellz is going to remake his own tracks, can Usher (or anyone more relevant than Trey Songz) diss him so we get another version of the indescribable "I'm A Beast?"

It seems like only six months ago, I was single and hating on everyone in a happy relationship. Oh, right, that's because that was six moths ago, and not too long before I met Michelle.  I knew she was the one for me soon after our first date, and I'm proud to say that as of January 9, she's gone from being my girlfriend to my fiancée. But, of course, that doesn't mean everything went smoothly or just as I had planned -- here's the engaging story (see what I did there?) of how it all went down.

I went to Michael C. Fina and picked out a beautiful Tacori ring in early December with the help of one of Michelle's best friends (according to Wikipedia, it's the same kind of ring that Chandler proposed with to Monica on Friends, though that wasn't my primary reason for choosing it...or so you'd think). As luck would have it, Paul Tacorian, who I later found out is that guy from The Bachelor, along with several other multi-millionaire company owners were in the store at the time and congratulated me on giving them a sh*tload of money my decision (notice that I'm standing credit card-in-hand).

The ring was supposed to be ready on December 28, and I originally planned on proposing at some point during our New Year's trip to California.  But unbeknownst to Michael C. Fina, Tacori was closed for two weeks in December, since, you know, no one ever decides to propose over the holidays. They assured me it would be ready by Friday, January 8, the day before our six-month anniversary.  So what happened on January 8?   A huge snowstorm hit the east coast, delaying all UPS shipments and leaving my ring stuck on a Newark Airport tarmac. Despite my outrage, it was out of the company's hands -- the ring wouldn't get to the store until Monday, January 11.  I begrudgingly agreed to have the jeweler temporarily fuse my diamond with the stock setting so that I could at least propose on our anniversary date.

My new plan was to put the ring inside a Miami Dolphins lunch box for the biggest Fins fan I know, which I had shipped to my parents' house in New Jersey so she wouldn't see it. The only problem, of course, was that as of Saturday morning, it was also yet to arrive due to that damned snowstorm.  But just as I started thinking of yet another backup plan, my dad called me to say that the lunch box had just come in and they were on their way into the city.

The next problem was getting Michelle out of the apartment to get everything in order. Unfortunately for her, but very fortunately for me, she had to work in the afternoon, giving me a two-hour window to pick up the ring and the lunch box. When I arrived at Michael C. Fina, the store clerk happily informed me that my ring -- the real one that I'd picked out -- had just come in 20 minutes ago. The off-duty UPS delivery man who brought it in had already changed into jeans and was on his way home when he received a call about a package in Newark, and only went back to get it on his own time because he wanted to go to Michael C. Fina to buy a ring for his girlfriend.   What are the odds? I must've been wearing that lucky deodorant. I ran back home after getting the lunch box from my parents and picking up a bouquet of flowers, and patiently waited for Michelle to come home.

The lunch box ended up being a huge hit. In fact, Michelle was SO excited about it, that it took what felt like an hour for her to finally open it.  When she saw the jewelry box inside, I got down on one knee and tried my best not to hyperventillate as I blurted out that magical four-word question. A dozen "yeses" later, we were engaged and on our way celebrate over a candlelit dinner in Rockefeller Center.

And then, as if things couldn't get any better, this happened last week on Twitter.  

doktakra @Candace_Parker Hey, Candace. I got engaged over the weekend & my new fiancee made me take down your poster off my wall. You okay with this?
Candace_Parker @doktakra LOL! congrats!  aww its okay i forgive you

That's right, after all this time, the (former) dream girl finally acknowledged me, and it wouldn't be possible without (the current dream girl) Michelle. I guess that's the way love goes...

Coming Soon: A major announcement that you might already know if (a) we're actual or online friends; (b) you follow my Twitter; or (c) you listen to this Jagged Edge classic...

You know how CSI and CSI: Miami will have those occasional crossover episodes to make you tune in to each show to get the entire story, even though don't really need to watch both episodes to get the scoop on everything anyway?  That's kind of what's going on here.  By now I'm sure you've read all about my gloriously entertaining first visit to Sacramento (and shame on you if you haven't), but here are some other highlights from my three-day trip to the Westside (do people still say, "Westside" or am I living in 1996?).

Santa Monica Pier:  I've got a long-running streak that goes back all the way to my summer camp days at the Green Lane "Y" in New Jersey -- I've never gone home empty-handed from a boardwalk basketball hoop.  In fact, I used to be so good at hitting those tricky shots, that other campers would ask me to shoot for them just to get the prize.  You'll be glad to know the streak lives on -- I won a stuffed animal shark for Michelle after eight attempts on my first try, which is now promptly sitting in a box in our storage unit.  Good times.

Someone So Unforgettable:  We were on five flights with three different airlines over the weekend, and despite Virgin Airlines' free in-air TV and WiFi and Jet Blue's timely NFL package, my hands-down favorite was Southwest Airlines.  As we prepared for landing, one of the flight attendants announced that we'd be treated to some entertainment -- Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable."  That would've been fine and all, but she then proceed to sing the entire song herself over the PA system.  Look, you just had to be there...it was like being trapped at an "American Idol" audition 10,000 feet up in the air.

Just Win, Baby:  It would've been far too easy had we boarded our flight out of Sacramento early Sunday morning and been back in New York by eight o'clock at night.  But of course, our plane was diverted to Oakland due to heavy fog, so we missed our connecting flight out of Long Beach.  Fortunately, Jet Blue gave us the option of leaving out of Las Vegas, complete with a three-hour layover in Sin City, which no rational person could possibly be mad about or decline.  Things got even more interesting when an earlier flight to Vegas was held up in Long Beach just as we arrived, and the security people inexplicably let us on board without even checking our IDs (gotta love the way they've stepped their game up after those recent scares).

Long story short, we rented a cheap hotel room and spent a solid six hours gambling at the Flamingo and Caesar's Palace .  I wasn't old enough to enter the casinos the last time I was in Vegas on a family vacation in high school (thanks, mom), but I more than compensated this time around.  I won't disclose how much money I lost, but let's just say that it was roughly three times more than what Michelle gambled away.  Note to self:  the roulette tables are not your friends.

By far the greatest moment was when a woman won $1,000 in the "Wheel of Fortune" slot game in front of us, and then told me, "now it's your turn" before walking away.  She left $20 worth of credits in the machine, which I went on to lose in about three minutes, but still, that type of thing just doesn't happen every day.  Or hell, maybe it does in Vegas...I should go back more often.

I feel I should explain the huge internet controversy surrounding my submission to straightcashhomey.net.  Okay, so it's not really a controversy, and only several dozen 11 people know or care about it, but I've got little else going on right now.  For those that aren't aware, Straight Cash is a website specializing in capturing random people quite simply wearing bad jerseys.  For years, I tried to get something posted, sending in pictures of someone in a Muggsy Bogues Hornets jersey and another person in a Chan Ho Park Dodgers one.  No dice...until, I had a genius idea while shopping at TJ Maxx (I needed undershirts -- don't judge me).  I found an Aaron McKie 76ers jersey on the discount rack, and promptly put it on so that Michelle could take a picture of me in the store.  Yes, I technically cheated since it was staged, and someone went on call me out in the comments.  But I could care less -- that's another goal I can cross of my list (and for the record, one of my other submissions was coincidentally published the day before, so there).

Anyways, let's move on to something a little more interesting.  Like most people, I fast forward through the commercials now that I've realized it's almost 2010 and there's this new techonology called "DVR."  But there are still some advertisements that are just too funny, ridiculous, or otherwise entertaining to pass up.  Let's just call these babies "DVR-proof."

You'd think a name like "Tasty Torpedo" sounds homoerotic enough, but Quizno's doesn't stop there.  In fact, this is quite possibly the most disturbingly awesome commercial I've ever seen (though there's no way I'll ever get a Quizno's sub after seeing what their employees do with the ovens).  I love the way the guy subtly looks down when he says, "that burned."  High comedy. 

A commercial doesn't need to try too hard or be extra long to make me laugh.  Sometimes, all it takes is 15 seconds of Biz Markie repeating "Oh, snap!  Guess what I saw?" over the "Just A Friend" instrumental.  The motto is, you can never go wrong with Biz...well, unless you have a bunch of white hipsters singing his music in a cab, which I prefer to think never happened. 

Maybe it's because I've never owned a dog, but I didn't really get the big deal when I first saw this one.  But the mom kills it with her priceless reaction.  And of course, anything with "steamer" in the title warrants a chuckle because I'm 12 years old.

If could, I would nominate the German guy for an Academy Award. I feel his pain...I'm hungry all the time, too.

Who doesn't love ice cream and cake?  Well, besides me, since I can't eat dairy.  But if I could, I would annoy everyone around me by singing this jingle every time I took a bite out of my Carvel treat.

I was never a big Halloween fan.  Even as a kid, the first and only time I ever put a hint of effort into my costume was in fourth grade, when I convinced my parents to buy me a horror movie mask that I wore to school with my normal clothes.  For the nine years that followed, I went the cheap cop-out easy route by putting on my trusty Mitch Richmond jersey and "dressing up" as a Sacramento Kings fan.  During my freshman year of college, one of my roommates and I snuck into the New York City Halloween Parade.  There I was, marching among the most creative and interesting costumes around -- including a man wearing a suit made entirely of MetroCards -- in (what else?) a replica Chris Webber jersey.  I decided that was the last time I'd celebrate Halloween.

But of course, in a year filled with changes, I came out of my semi-retirement.  Since I'm (we're?) obsessed with the Rocky movies, Michelle and I ended up going to the Halloween Masquerade Ball at Bryant Park Grill dressed as the Italian Stallion and Adrian, after also giving some consideration to Mickey and Ivan Drago.  We went the distance, spending weeks planning out our costumes and applying a few final touches on fight night (check out the shiner she gave me).  If you're wondering, we kept track of the number of times people yelled out, "Hey, Rocky!" or challenged me to a fight versus the number of times Michelle heard, "Yo, Adrian!"  After taking an early three to one lead, I ended up losing by a split decision, most likely because "Yo, Adrian!" is just so much more fun to say.  

And as you might know, if I can change, and you can change, then everybody can change.  Click here for the full album.