Sioux Potatoes Simon

Friday, 11 March 2011

Today the North Dakota Senate voted to keep the UND’s nickname “The Fighting Sioux.” Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that enough of the Senators voted in such a way to keep the name in effect.

Here’s an article about it.

As my wife astutely pointed out this evening, the issue isn’t so much that a team is named after a particular group of people, it’s that those people have (probably) no say in the matter. Of course, I raised the objection that no Vikings were consulted in the naming of Minnesota’s homeless football team, but my wife countered that the Scandinavian roots run deep here in the land of 10,000 hot dishes.

But…still…aren’t the Vikings just being stereotyped? I mean, not all Vikings were warriors. They didn’t wear horns, and the long braids were only in style in the summer of 997AD. But I suppose since many players on the team and many of their fans are descendants of Vikings, then things are cool, right? Wait – who here is a descendant of Vikings?

My high school team was known as the Fighting Irish, a name adopted because of the town’s large Irish population, and due to the fact that Irishmen do nothing all day but beat up each other.

Maybe a better idea is to nix ethnic terms altogether, especially terms like “Sioux,” which were labels applied by outsiders who couldn’t pronounce tricky words like “Lakota.” If you are gonna name your team after a group of people, pick an occupation (Packers, Steelers, Cowboys, Senators) or a movement (Patriots, 49ers).

Skol White Skins, let’s go!

Saturday, 12 March 2011

We dined at TGI Friday’s (Thank Ganesha It’s F’s) this afternoon. We gave Isla a couple of pieces of Owen’s pasta and she pretty much just immerses herself in the sensory experience of handling noodles between her fingers and gumming them into a tasty paste.

I, meanwhile, had me a bowl of mashed potatoes. Not sure why, but about two days ago I suddenly got a hankerin’ for some mashed potatoes (and, no, I don’t think it’s correct to spell “hankerin'” with a G at the end). I was craving them all day yesterday. I even contemplated running out to the grocery store to go buy some, but my laziness trumped my appetite. So, today, while we were out running errands, Jennifer managed to sell the idea of dining at Friday’s by noting that they offer mashed potatoes as a side dish. I suggested going to a buffet where I could heap a mountain of potatoes onto my plate Dreyfuss-style, but Jennifer reminded me that everything at buffets tastes the same, so I could just chew on the steering wheel if I wanted mashed potatoes from a buffet.

Anyway, I’m all better now.

Sunday, 13 March 2011

Guess who my favorite artist of the last 100 years is?

Did you guess Alfred Hitchcock? You guessed wrong.

Did you guess Gene Roddenberry? George Orwell? Mason Jennings? Puff Daddy? Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. And extremely wrong.

The answer is Paul Simon.

Yeah, that’s right. If I was stranded on a dessert island, and I was given the option of having with me a collection of Hitchcock classics, my favorite works of fiction, or Paul Simon’s discography, I would opt for the latter.

I can’t think of anyone else, who, in my opinion, has so consistently put out such quality work. There are other musicians for which people could maybe (maybe!) make a case for superior lyrics – Bob Dylan comes to mind – and others for which superior musical arrangement could be made – Brian Wilson comes to mind – but in combination, Simon is peerless. I once made a list of my 25 favorite albums, and Paul Simon had four on the list (six if you count his work with Garfunkel). I also once made a list of my 50 favorite songs – a list I was never fully satisfied with, incidentally – but the top ten included four songs by Paul Simon, including the #1, #2, and #3 positions. And you probably won’t believe this, but I tried really hard to not give one performer such a monopoly on the top three, but I just couldn’t honestly say that the #4 or #5 songs were better than those three Simon songs.

For many years, Simon has been the soundtrack of my life. In high school, I love Simon and Garfunkel just as much as my classmates loved MC Hammer and the New Kids on the Block. And I’m also happy to say that, unlike them, my fandom has never turned to embarrassment. Later, I was given a copy of his solo album Graceland and found myself astonished that, for what seemed like the first time, I actually enjoyed an entire studio album (most of my music collection at that time consisted of greatest hits albums). Later, I purchased copies of his albums Still Crazy After All These Years and The Rhythm of the Saints and I started to think that he could do no wrong.

In 2006, Simon (who by that time had become the pop star with the most Grammies) released his latest album, Surprise. Again, it’s a masterpiece and I enjoy blasting it at work whenever I go in on Saturday and have the lab to myself.

I am eagerly anticipating his album So Beautiful or So What, which is slated for release next month. I will have a copy the day it becomes available.

Lucky for Minnesota, Simon is coming in concert on May 2nd to the Minneapolis Convention Center. Jennifer and I were thinking this might be our last opportunity to see our favorite musician (he’s 69 years old, after all) as well as a great first-concert for Owen. Ticket prices start at $132.

I’m not saying he’s not worth it. I’m just saying I can’t afford it. Oh well. Rock on, Paul. Rock on.