Consider Yourself Soiled Ol' Glory!

As I have noted before I am taking a "A History of Boston" as one of my final two classes (which I have to pass by the way). In this class there are a couple books I have to read, books I may or may not have read if it were not for this class. The first book I enjoyed very little and concluded that because of it's title, appearance and plot there is very little chance I would have ever read it.

The Soiling of Old Glory by Louis P. Masur catalogs the issues and the incident behind the famous photo by photographer Stanley Forman. It uses the infamous photo to deconstruct the outbreak of racial animosity in Boston during the 1970's so we can better understand why it happened. For me it read much like a 200 page Wikipedia article, informative but at the same time dry and boring.

Having read All Souls by Michael Patrick MacDonald when I was younger I already have a fair grasp on the riots and violence that surrounded the forced busing of the 1970's. What really interested me was the photo, which I have never come across although I have lived in Massachusetts my whole life.

Stanley Forman won a Pulitzer for "Old Glory" which pictures a black man being held while a young white male is poised to strike him with the tip of a pole holding an American flag. The scene takes place in front of Boston City Hall during an anti-busing demonstration which Ted Landmark (the pictured black man) was unfortunate to walk through.


Mr. Forman also won a Pulitzer for a picture he had shot a year prior to his picture of the flag. This picture (shown below) was taken at a fire in Boston, and while taking photos of the scene Mr. Forman took this photo moments after a fire escape gave way and sent the child and woman five floors to the pavement. The woman pictured died as a result of the fall while miraculously the child survived. As a result of this photo, which ran on the front page of the Herald American, Forman was characterized as an oppurtunist who chose to take pictures from safety instead of helping those in trouble. When in fact this very photo led to sweeping reform of Boston fire escape laws which have undoubtedly saved countless lives since.


The book itself is a fairly average book with a glossy cover that borrows heavily from the picture it chronicles. The font used for the title is in all caps with a paint splattering effect which leaves dots of color on the white background. It's simple and lacks originality mostly because the picture was not hard to find when the book is based on said picture.

In the end the photo itself and it's photographer are very interesting and warrant more interest on my part, but the book itself delves heavily into why the photo is visually compelling instead of simply leaving it to the reader to comprehend and providing the setting it was in (which it does but I feel the setting is lost in the details). In all likelihood I would not read this book if it were not for my class, mostly because I know the setting in which this picture took place and all I would need to see is the photo and a brief history of the actual event itself.

I feel like this post can not end so abruptly, so I'm going to dally for a moment.......wait for it........OK, now we can say goodbye.

GOODBYE!

On Hispsters and Lullabies

A couple weekends ago Katy and I were going to see the tall ships and decided to bring our books, she Trainspotting (cult movie starring Ewen McGreggor) and me Lullaby (if you read but not much, you read Chuck Palahniuk). Katy joked that if anyone looked in her purse (which because of her refusal to be like every other girl and buy a duffel bag for a purse has our books sticking out of it) they would think we were trendy/hipsters.

Now if you know me you know I hate trendy people and I hate hipsters, mostly because they stole my witty t-shirts, my skinniness, made listening to certain music and books that I might like or read "hip" and decided to like shitty beer that I also like to drink form time to time. (Katy says their mantra is "i take photos, drink shit beer, and read cool books").

So I might be called a hipster, because they share traits with me. Just like I used to get "you take emo pictures" because I hate posing for pictures. I'm perilously close to being a victim of "hipster" profiling and I'm not even a fucking hipster! Though apparently I'm only a stupid hat and a pant size away from being a spitting image of one.

Now you did not come here for a rant about hipsters and my apparent likeness to them, though I'm sure you enjoyed it. You came here because you wanted to get the skinny (always wanted to use that word) on Lullaby. Besides not being able to get the voice and image of Edward Norton out of my head, Lullaby is solidly enjoyable novel of very easy language and fairly predictable plot.

Upon reading Lullaby I now understand why so many people consider Chuck Palahniuk their favorite author and why Fight Club translated so easily from a book to a hit movie. Mr. Palahiuk writes with a distinct style and flow to his book which makes the digestion easy and therefore keep the book going at a fast pace. It reads like a movie. With a hint of anti-society mixed in.

But more than anything I like it because it makes you think about situations that are in a way possible but at the same time not thought about as much as they should be. I would go into the specific thought process I came away with but I would ruin the book. If you read it and the part about possible genocide via irregular means catches your interest then feel free to send me an email and we can talk about it.

Lullaby is a beautiful book to behold. The cover is a solid white with black curvy font, with a dead bird placed in the middle. The texture of the cover is not rough or slippery, but instead, for lack of a better term "grippy". The pages on the inside are filled to the edges, not wasting excess space on borders. My one grippe is that chapter endings and chapter beginnings never share a page back to back, I feel not doing so is a waste of paper. But that is far from a deal breaker, just excessive.

More books by Mr Palahniuk will be read in the future I am sure but for now I think I will stick to the classics and critically acclaimed in lieu of the confusion surrounding the question of my "hipster" qualities.

(P • B) ⊃ B

I like Blueberry Pancakes (and Raspberry ones) and I like beer, and because I am taking a Logic class (which I may or may not pass, evidence of the latter to follow) I can say say that just because I like Blueberry Pancakes and I like beer does not mean I would like Blueberry Pancake beer. Aux contrare monfrare! As a matter of fact (P • B) ⊃ B! [(If I like Blueberry Pancakes • I like Beer) ⊃ I like Blueberry Pancake Beer!]

To be fair, Sea Dog Blue Paw is not meant to be a Blueberry Pancake Beer, just merely a beer that tastes like blueberries. Yet the buttery aftertaste combined with the taste of blueberries makes you feel like you are gorging yourself on pancakes that have the added benefit of getting you drunk. I feel as if Willy Wonka is behind this, realizing that beer that tastes like a delicious meal is far more marketable than his three course gum.

That being said I find it hard to keep up my very manly reputation while frequently being seen drinking a fruit beer (pun intended). Katy very frequently attacks my manliness on the grounds that I enjoy beers such as UFO Raspberry, Sea Dog Blue Paw and Hell or High Watermelon (though her intentions for doing so elude me). Here I mount my defense.

1. Try Sea Dog, I guarantee you will like it! (imagine a local TV commercial pitchman voice and then do what it says)

2. Since when does like a tasty beer make you less manly? Why do I have to drink Coors Light or Bud Light to be a man? Or to go to the other end why do I need to drink IPA or some bitter beer that looks like it was fermented with black licorice to be a man? Why can't I just like the beer that I like.

3. Which brings me to my next point, in Belgium, one of the leaders in beer making since the beginning of time, drink a fruit flavored beer known as Lambic. Besides being one of the best things on the face of the planet (though when I say this leave the Cherry flavored one out, it tastes like Robitussin), it is not considered non manly to have.

4. It is made in Maine and real men are from Maine.

With my manliness living to fight (or not fight) another day, we now come to the obvious the question; if a beer tastes like blueberry pancakes and blueberry pancakes are eaten for breakfast is it OK for one to drink a blueberry pancake tasting beer for breakfast?

I say yes, but then again I am not opposed to drinking at all hours of the day to begin with. I mean the ability to have a drink, not actually drink all hours of the day, I may be manly but not that manly.

The Buck Stops Here

To quote the large book about a man I read in 7th grade, "The Buck Stops Here". Big Buck Hunter makes me want to buy a shotgun and go hunting for Big Buck Hunter consoles. In particular the Big Buck Hunter at TC's Lounge. Why? Because at no point in it's existence does that game not piss me off.

The one thing that really, really, really, really gets my gourd (old people say it why can't I?) is the noise that emanates from the machine when someone is not playing it. It makes this western wolf like noise every time the game starts it's loop. If you have been with me to TC's you would know that each time it does this I also make a noise, but one a game isn't allowed to make.

Now let's get one thing straight, if you live in Boston, you attend Berklee, you wear flip flops with pants and you frequent a drinking establishment called TC's Lounge then you are not a hunter and the closest you are going to get to a rifle and a large four legged animal is a paint ball gun and your friends Newfoundland (an exchange you would lose). So no, I'm not impressed by the "skillz" you have in respect to Big Buck Hunter, because if that gun was real and that Moose an actual 400 pound piece of meat and fur you would have no clue what to do.

Which brings me to my next point; it's just glorified target practice, that cheetah isn't going to maul you and that heard of Buffalo isn't going to trample you. There is no threat to your person what so ever, you are hitting clay ducks but instead of a gun with kickback its a glorified laser pointer for $1 - $2. That's fun?

That all being said, I had my moment of weakness with the game a few weeks ago when Katy and I went to NYC for her to sit in a meeting and for me to drink at random bars. At one of these said bars I was going to the bathroom and I noticed that there was a "Safari" edition of Buck Hunter. After scoffing at it I noticed that there was one credit already loaded on the game, and being a person who never turns down things that are free, and apparently a person who changes there opinion on things just because they are now free (so yes give me free things and then I will no longer sneer at you, strong convictions), I decided to give it the good old college try (I have no idea what that means but I wanted to say it). I picked my weapon (having never fired a weapon this was quite simple and random), I picked my prey (always wanted to hunt Elephant, just don't have the few extra grand laying around to pay off an African tribe to tie one up for me to shoot), and I was ready.

Then the machine prompted me for another credit. Like teachers making making 10 question quizzes worth 20 points, this machine made one play worth 2 credits. Why would they do that? Besides making me feel and look like a complete and utter moron I can think of no reasons.

So yes Big Buck Hunter does make me want to shoot things, but four legged animals have no need to be worried.

What I Just Read: The Shoemaker and The Tea Party

As you may or may not know I have entered my final term at Northeastern University (Not Northwestern, unfortunately I am not that smart), and as one of my two final classes I am taking The History of Boston, which I am calling "Story Time take 2" (the first "Story Time" being America and the Sea). In this class like many classes out there we have to read books and the first book is The Shoemaker and the Tea Party by Alfred F. Young, and in the words of a Chicken Lou's cook "What could be more fun than Shoemakers and Tea Parties?"

As a matter of fact there probably far more things more interesting than Tea Parties and Shoemakers. George Robert Twelves Hewes, "The Shoemaker" mentioned in the title of this book, is the vehicle used by the author to show how the "Tea Party" changed to suit the political necessities of the day.

The analysis of the "Tea Party" is well done, even if it is slightly obvious. It is the biography of Mr. Hewes that irks me, it is mostly a regurgitation of two period biographies and a whole bunch of inference (second class this semester is logic btw). All in all I would call it weak, and Hewes a victim of circumstance and good genes and not all that deserving of a biography. The Tea Party thesis could easily be made without.

Fun Fact: Hewes named his 11th son, Eleven. Best "Boy Named Sue theory" name ever.

The cover looks and feels like a Borders Classics book, that is to say rushed and ugly. The inside of the book is average with period pictures through out.

Suffice to say I would never buy this book nor read it if I was not required to do so.

It's Easy (but probably not probable) Being Green: Hydro-Electric Home

Here is our ongoing segment known as It's Easy (but probably not probable) Being Green. Which is ripped from a Kermit the Frog song. Again I am not the green energy consulted that also goes by the name Kevin Doyle, I'm just the guy who mistakenly gets his emails.

Dear Mr. President,

I hope this letter finds you well, and after we last met I hope this letter simply finds you at all. Again I apologize.

But moving beyond that I would like to get straight to the point, I have an idea that could save the average American a bit of money on their electric bill, that is of course if they live in the Northeast and that is also of course if it continues to rain non-stop in the Northeast and if the system is actually cost-effective, I'm just the man who thinks of things, I don't actually implement them.

As you know the Northeast has become a rain forest in the past 2 or so months, with nonstop rain drenching the area on a daily basis. What I propose is that we harness this rain water on a house to house basis and turn it into electricity.

In my two dimensional illustration pictured above I show how water defies physics and runs down only one side and one corner of a roof, hits a water wheel and through a system of pulleys it somehow charges a battery. I claim to know nothing about either weather patterns or power generation but I do look outside and I do notice my electric bill and there must be a connection. That's why I think you should hand this off to your energy experts (of which you would do well to remember I am not one of them) and have them develop the system and give it the American Public, the word "give" being loosely defined by you.

As always Mr. President feel use your "Bully Pulpit" to beat people into submission and make them implement this system. Though if the black and blue populace does not re-elect as a consequence don't come crying to me.

Sincerely,

Kevin (No L required) Doyle

Haikuing While Under the Influence of Rain

Seeing as how I fancy myself a poet I figured I would document the rains of epic proportions we have been experiencing the past 24723847 days through Haiku. Enjoy

What is misery
Rainstorms are miserable
Rain is misery

Rain, rain go away
Come again another day
On second thought, don't

It will rain today
It will rain again Friday
Rain is relentless

Raindrops on my head
My head below my shoulders
My neck really hurts

Foot in a puddle
Clothing soaked all the way through
Fuck Mother Nature

What I Just Read: The Painted Bird

Thanks to two 4+ hour bus rides and 2 hours to myself in Central Park I finished this book in one day, the actual finishing happened somewhere in Central Connecticut on a dimly lit bus.

The Painted Bird by Jerzy Kosinski is a story of a young boy, who through his parent-less wanderings through Eastern Europe witnesses and befalls unspeakable (though not to him) attrocities at the hands of the local village populations. Reminded me a lot of Night by Elie Wiesel (in the fact that it was a story about the atrocities of WWII through the eyes of a child).

The stories in the painted bird are meant to be shocking and gut wrenching but to me his words had very little effect on me. The scenes he depicts were just that to me, scenes. I do not disagree that rapings, beatings and torture are horrific and indefensible acts but having not felt any of the effects of such actions. I think that may have been why I was surprised, partially due to Katy's reaction to the book, at how it was not as graphic as I thought it would be.

On the whole I enjoyed the book, in large part to the changes in the main characters thought process through out the book. Much like A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah who reflects on the mental toll that war and soldiering during his childhood had on him the painted bird talks about how adult events such as war, sex and torture are damaging to children.

To put it bluntly the design of this book is terrible in almost every way possible. For starters orange, purple and gray are not colors that work well together, and when you lay them on top of one another they really hurt the eyes.

The bird on the cover looks like someone used MS Paint (ha Painted Bird get it?) to put it on there. As a matter of fact this whole cover looks like it was put together in MS Paint by an Elementary School kid. The fact that it was made some time in the 60's or 70's is no excuse they should have updated it by now.

On the inside the words are smooshed together while leaving an inch for the margins. My question is why not give more spacing for the words or make the book smaller as a whole?

Next up is Lullaby by Chuck Palahniuk. Last time I came in contact with something associated with Mr. Palahniuk was Fight Club (the movie not the book), just as the title credits were beginning I was told the whole plot of the movie. Now as a warning, if you know what happens in this book and you somehow bring it to my attention before I finish, I will kill you.

What I Just Read: An Arsonist's Guide To Writers' Homes In New England

Winner of the longest title of the year award.

Seeing as how I no longer have to write silly English papers and I am no longer required to know Spanish I thought I might read a few things of my choosing. That is of course until I start school again on Monday which includes Logic and The History of Boston, which may prove to be some interesting reading in itself. To the book!

An Arsonist's Guide To Writers' Homes In New England is one of the books that you are on the fence about until you come to the climatic scene and then the book is abruptly over. For the majority of the book I found myself struggling to pay attention and wanting to jump over paragraphs the author dedicated to stories the main character thought were the life stories of total stranger. While some were incredibly entertaining others were woefully drawn out and were simply delaying the inevitable ending of the book.

The book reminded me of Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close in the way that narrator is very simple minded and the reader tends to understand what is going on before the narrator does. The problem is in Loud & Close the narrator is a child and in Arsonist's he is a grown man, or as the narrator likes to say a grown ass man.

Good book, with a different take it could have been great. Not a must read but a good one no less.

I like the cover, for one it takes balls to go with an orange cover ( I would say as much balls as it took for me to wear a bright orange shirt to school once a week in 8th grade but I think that was more stupidity than anything else) and second the burning lady (not once, not twice but three times) was a nice touch. What I didn't like is the lighter orange around the title letters, too far man.

After much internal deliberation I have decided to forgo Daniel's favorite author Murakami and the beautiful looking Lullaby by Palahniuk for now in lieu of the more jarring book The Painted Bird by Jerzy Kosinski. As I understand it is very doable and desirable to read in a day; and seeing as how I have about 6 hours of bus riding tomorrow (to and from NYC) I like those qualities.

What I Just Read: American Gods

Before we get into the book just an overall formatting change of how I am going to approach books from now on. Why I thought you needed two posts per book I have no idea, so I am no longer going to give you the book cover review and my thoughts going into the book. Instead I am going to lump them in with the review after the book, the result being one large post on; my thoughts going into the book, the cover, and my overall review.

I know what you are thinking "How will we know what you are reading?!?!?!" do not worry yourself about that, I will still continue to give John Lennon a frined in the What I Am Currently Reading list in the left hand column but instead of linking to a post it will link to the Wikipedia page of the book or the author. That being said there may be a spoiler in the at link, so consider this your spoiler alert.

Again for those of you who were not reading:

CONSIDER THIS YOUR SPOILER ALERT FOR ALL LINKS UNDER "WHAT I AM CURRENTLY READING"!!!!!

If you are like 99.9% of the people on the planet and have no desire to be updated about what books I am reading and what my opinions are then I apologize for the last couple paragraphs.

Anyway on with the show.

Katy loves Neil Gaiman, so much so that when she found through his Twitter (his tweets are the reason she is on Twitter in the first place) that he was just down the street enjoying some museum time with his girl friend Amanda Palmer (or as she calls herself Amanda Fucking Palmer) she almost ran out the door.

Speaking of Neil Gaiman's girlfriend Amanda Palmer (twitter handle: @amandapalmer) Katy and I each won tickets to her secret show in Cambridge via Twitter. The show was more than enjoyable, and even if you do not care for her music her personality more than makes up for it. This show, being no more than 200 people there, was all request with her staple "Ask Amanda" segment being mixed in. "Ask Amanda" involves the audience submitting a bunch of questions and Amanda picking a few to answer. Let's just say one question lead to us knowing which boob Neil Gaiman prefers (the left one) and the name of her boobs' musical act "Titter and the Plus One's".

Anyway the point is Katy loves Neil Gaiman and because of that she made me read his book American Gods. Now yes Katy is slightly crazy and her recent choices of audio books have been a little suspect (the ones that involve vampires) but her past recommendations have been spot on (Lolita, Everything Is Illuminated, The Corrections ) so I was not all that worried.

I would like to say that I very rarely shut out the rest of the world in order to read a book. I believe all of the Harry Potter series and Dune were the only books to invoke that trait of mine. American Gods showed shades of that which involved me angering Katy by reading at the dinner table (though I must say she had been on my case to read it for months and then she gets mad when I put it down?). What I am trying to say is, I enjoyed it. Thoroughly.

Then again it is hard to imagine not enjoying a book that takes Gods from all over the world and gives them human traits such as greed, alcoholism, lust and anger, among others. Besides that there is not much I can say that will not spoil the story, other than that Mr. Gaiman writes with the ability of a classic Sci-Fi/Fantasy writer but in a modern day and adult fashion, if that makes sense. Just read the book, you will enjoy it, and if you don't enjoy it then you have no soul.

As for the cover, it is a decent cover, nothing jaw dropping about it but it suits it's purpose. At first you pass you wonder what it has to do with Gods. After reading it you wonder why that house? To which I tell you it's a stock photo from Getty Images.

Next book up is An Arsonist's Guide To Writers' Homes In New England by Brock Clarke, yes it's a novel and not an actual guide to burn by. Came highly recommended by a few people, I will report back when I inevetably finish it, that is of course unless you are a book about John Lennon.

New BANNER!!!!!!!!

There is a new banner above. It's funny. You should sit there and chuckle to yourself for a few moments. Not too long though, because that might be considered a bit creepy.

For the original photo, and how it was created, check out Katy's blog for the details

What I Just Read: The Discomfort Zone

Sorry, I've been busy. And when I am busy you the reader suffer. For that I apologize. That being said the situation will not be getting better anytime soon. That being said it will get better one random day when I decide I need to post 3 things I want you to know about it. That being said here is the review of The Discomfort Zone by Jonathan Franzen. That being said, enjoy.

Long, long ago, in a blog post slightly below this one there is a book cover review.

The Corrections were great because the story was ridiculous. The story opens up with pages dedicated to comparing Enid's need to hide mail from Alfred with guerrilla warfare. The later part of the book takes places in Lithuania and a military coup. It was hilarious because it was ridiculous.

Jonathan Franzen's real life, though funny at points is unfortunately not as ridiculous as his fictitious family life is in The Corrections. The book is broken down into anecdotal stories from his early years and one around his present self. They are funny and sad but more than anything the book opens a window into how he got ideas for his characters in The Corrections. His parents are milder, more humanizing versions of their fictional selves. The siblings are, as far as I can tell, varying versions of Mr. Franzen himself.

All in all it was a decent book with an amazing cover. Would I recommend you read it? No, only if you want to understand the thought process behind his writing The Corrections, and even then it isn't worth it that much.

As for news on the cover, I went looking for it. Northeastern did not have a copy of the magazine, so I submitted an order for a copy from any library that had it. On that order I said that a copy would only be of use to me if it was in color. I got this:

(Click on them and they give you a bigger more legible file)

When it comes to the Woman's heart that was much better than nothing at all considering I could not find a legible copy to begin with. Yet I wanted it in color to see the detail. Regardless my hunt is far from over. You will see a color copy with detail in the future. Mark my words.

What I Am Reading: The Discomfort Zone

I enjoyed Jonathan Franzen's book The Corrections immensely and upon realizing that I would not be working at Borders much longer I promptly bought the other two books of his that we had in stock.

The Discomfort Zone is meant to be (as the cover says) a personal history; all of 20 pages in it appears to me to be a tamer telling of The Corrections with his real mother and father reflecting milder versions of their counterparts in the Corrections. Makes you wonder if he wrote this only to clear up any misconception that Alfred and Enid were fictional characterizations of his parent. Not all of us can be fooled.

Yet again Jonathan Franzen fails to disappoint in the cover department with this being my favorite book cover of any book I have read so far. My being a lover of maps it isn't hard to believe that a book with a very descriptive map of a man's heart would catch my fancy. Now after doing a little research stemming from reading the back cover, apparently the original map (published in a January 1960 edition of McCall's) came complete with a map of a Woman's heart as well. I have been unable to find a good quality version (here is a poor one) via the internets so I now have plans to look through Northeastern's collection of Magazine's and if I cannot find it there I will hunt it down at the library of congress. To be continued.....

What I Just Read: Factotum

They say never judge a book by it's cover, well then maybe don't read this.

There are two constants in the life of Henry Chinaski; every woman he beds was "good" and every job he has ever had and will have asks far to much of him for far to little pay. Factotum is not different, Chinaski like most books gets himself hooked to a crazed woman who likes to show him some leg while at the same time moving from job to job (mores so in this book than any other) where his bosses don't understand him and ask far too much of him.

I get the job thing, he is lazy by nature, hates being told what to do and above all would rather be sitting in his bed with his back to the wall drinking a beer. I get that.

What I don't get is how a man that looks like this, who considers himself not to be a ladies man can be found giving it to a new woman every other chapter (What is equally as confusing is the year long dry spells he speaks of). Now of course this is fictional and not autobiographical (though Henry Chinaski sounds awfully close to Charles Bukowski) and he probably embellishes most of what he writes but there must be some form of truth to it.

Regardless of an overall meaning I enjoy reading Bukowski if not for the sex crazed boozed up smart ass Chinaski but for the quick to the point writing and the finality of each book. The use of his novels to portray periods of living be it his life from birth to leaving his family, or his work at the post office, or even his preoccupation with only women, each book he writes is about one period in his life and the main issue that his life revolves around at that time (what an English teacher would call a theme).

That being said I am going to leave Hollywood and South of No North for later. I find it hard to believe that anything is going to top Ham on Rye, Post Office or the other two I read, so I plan on reading Bukowski when I'm not likely to feel let down and in reality all I want is my sex crazed boozed up smart ass fix.

Top 5: Things NOT to Say to an IM Official

If working for Northeastern Intramural Sports has taught me anything it has taught me how to take a whole lot of abuse from peers. As a result of that abuse I have come to look at the role of a referee in a new light as well as speculate as to how smart students who attend NU really are. What follows are 5 things you should never say to an IM official unless you are A) looking to make yourself look like an idiot or B) looking to get yourself banned from IM Sports and the Marino Center.


5. He hit me first!

Unfortunately I did not see him hit you first, if I had he would also have a penalty. And no I am not going to take your word for it, if I did that I would be calling a "penalty" on someone every 30 seconds. Besides that, did your mother never teach you about turning the other cheek and being the better person? Or maybe you learned about proportional responses? Sort of along the lines of being pushed to the ground and then turning around and slugging the guy in the face, I think that was not a proportional response on your part.

On top of that I have one set of eyes and unfortunately they both have to look in the same direction at all times. So yes I miss calls occasionally, it happens, get over it, losing a IM dodgeball game should not be up there with the murder of a family member.


4. Have you played Hockey before?

I love answering this question because in fact as a Hockey ref I have played hockey once or twice in my life (wowzers!), to be specific I have been skating since I was 2 and been playing Hockey since I was 4, so what's your next question Mr. Lipton? Do I know how to blow a whistle? Do I know how to lace up my skates properly? Do I sleep at night? Am I blind? I have a question for you: can you read? In particular the part of the rules where it says this is a "non-contact league". I don't care how hockey is played in the NHL because believe it or not this isn't the NHL and you aren't Sidney Fucking Crosby so stop whining like him and serve your two fucking minutes.

3. Shut the #%&@ Up! (and all manner of swearing thrown in my direction)

This one puzzles me; why would someone think it is all right to verbally abuse the person who controls their playing eligibility? It's liking bitching to a cop for a speeding ticket, what do you want a busted tailight and reckless driving tacked on? I can throw you out of this game for looking at me the wrong way (sadly I haven't found a pair of IM eyes I couldn't stare down) and no one from my boss to the President of the University would fault me for it. But yet you think it's ok to tell me to go fuck myself and how to do it? Do I look like the dumbest guy in the world to you? On second thought don't answer that question, just be quiet.

2. What's your name?

What are you going to do with my name? Complain to my boss about me? He likes me and he doesn't like you. More importantly he doesn't like people questioning the calls of his officials. So what on God's green earth do you think he is going to say to you, do you think he is going to fire me because my interpretation of a hooking penalty is a bit different then yours? I think not.

1. You want to fight outside after this is over?
This isn't as much of something not to say to a referee as much as it is a fear I have. I am waiting for the day when I'm walking down the street, ordering a beer at a bar, or grabbing a box of Cheeze-Its from the shelf at Shaws and suddenly someone blindsides me with their fist. And all that because they couldn't understand why I threw them out of a game for jumping over the boards and playing the role of Killer from Slapshot. It's going to happen, maybe not tomorrow and maybe not next year, but someday it is going to happen.


Just keep the audible noises from your throat to a minimum and behave like the decent human being your mother and father brought you up to be. That's all we ask.