Trump Plaza - Atlantic City, NJ

The Donald's voice saying 'Welcome to the Trump Plaza Casino, the best casino along the best boardwalk in the world' should be played via recording upon entering said casino. Not because it's true, but because that's how the Donald rolls.

Regardless of its standing amongst casinos, I ended up visiting the Trump Plaza Casino Friday night with several of my fellow Merck employees and Melissa on a booze bus trip. The running joke throughout the week was that I was riding the bus with a bunch of blue-haired old ladies going to play the penny slots and drink free versions of whatever it is blue-haired old ladies drink - whiskey sours and white wine spritzers is what I imagine. While everyone but Melissa was older than me, I would not categorize any of them as old. There were even some other dudes.

Aside from being dudes, everyone drank and gambled way too much for me to imagine them as old ladies.

I joined in on the festivities with them, I was not about to let them show me up. I am no Olga, the Travelling Bra, but I try. Aside from a creepy bald dude hitting on every single one of the older women who rode the bus with me, as well as my lack of luck at the tables the night ended without mishap.

Angelo Bertelli

'Pennsylvania takes its football seriously.'
So says the link on ESPN to a story on the Manheim Central football team. One player from Manheim Central's 2003 state championship team told me that a teacher told him winning the state championship will go down as the greatest thing he ever did!

As a swing state in November, PA has gotten plenty of attention from the political parties but we Pennsylvanians do not get the constant prep football props that California, Texas, and Florida do. However, you need look no further than the Professional Football Hall of Fame to see that the gridiron glory is a Pennsylvania tradition. The Keystone State has 26 inductees, second to only Texas with 27. Moreover, PA just defeated Ohio in the first round of ESPN's competition for who has the best high school football to make it the final four with the 3 overpublicized heavyweights mentioned above. PA and OH were unfortunate to face one another in the first round because I feel both states may not have the vaunted speed of the above 3, but playing in the heat and humidity of preseason camp as well as the blustery cold of the late season games allows PA and OH to produce tougher players than the other 3 possibly could. Heat wears players out, but cold makes even the stoutest player shiver. Everything hurts more in the cold.

Right now, I bet you are asking, 'What does PA football have to do with http://www.picsofmeinfrontofstuff.blogspot.com/?' I write it, I am from PA, I am obsessed with football and recently I have taken to seeing the final resting spots of my football forefathers. So I have mentioned one so far, but now you can increase that count by one as I have gone to visit the grave of the 1943 Heisman Trophy Winner, Angelo Bertelli. That is a 100% increase all for the sake of my faithful blog readers!


Legerdemain is not a word I use in my everyday vocabulary or ever really, but it was the first word in the first draft of this blog. That's right, I actually proof read this!!!! I will assume most of the people reading this do not know what legerdemain means, in fact if not for the downright necessity for literacy when using the internet I would assume most of the people looking at this can not even read. That is if I had friends, they would look at this blog, but if there were people dumb enough to want to hang out with me I would assume they could not read as well. Of course, if you look at the previous post you would note that there is clearly a picture of me with other people who appear to be having a wonderful time.

It is amazing what a few beers will do.

Getting back to the SAT word mentioned earlier in this posting, legerdemain, according to dictionary.com, is sleight of hand and/or someone who performs of sleight of hand.

Example: The accountants at Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac were excellent at accounting legerdemain.

Legerdemain is also the word used to describe the exploits of 1943 Heisman Trophy Winner Angelo Bertelli in the Notre Dame Football team's backfield.[1] Obviously, Bertelli was a damned good football player and since 1) I am obsessed with football 2) Bertelli's final resting place is in north Jersey[2] and 3) I am clearly weird enough to take pictures of me in front of graves wearing my college football jersey I decided to visit Mr. Bertelli's grave.

Unfortunately, saying a small prayer at the grave of Coach Lombardi did not guarantee gridiron victory for my favorite football teams, (PSU won, while both sets of Eagles – Philadelphia and Juniata – lost) it did give me something to do on a lovely Wednesday evening. With that in mind, a few weeks later I found myself following directions, despite the incredible cost of gasoline, to another Italian-American gridiron hero who had passed on. Once there I paid my respects to Mr. Bertelli, took the picture below, and returned home.

If you read all that you will see that after ~650 words I actually I described the trip in approximately 15. Who knew the trip would be so brief?

[1] Angelo Bertelli. Heisman.com
[2] Angelo Bertelli. Findagrave.com

St. Lunacy in June....-acy

Phils battling the Braves; Phils in first place. Reminds me of when the Fightin's should have been in first place to stay. It was June and I was in St. Louis knocking Missouri off the list. Matt and Ben and I were in town to enjoy beer, baseball, and the Arch - the Holy Trinity of St. Louis.

Justin was with us as well, to serve as fodder for our incessant Mets jokes.

This was a surprisingly easy picture to take on the Friday night we spent in St. Louis. Bearfights will do that to a man.

Bearfight = jaeger-bomb followed by car bomb followed by inebriation.

Not surprising, our load was basically shot following those poor decisions. I did manage to see the Arch, but the combination of the heat and the hangover killed any ambitions we may have had for drunken debauchery. Some of us were more affected than others.

Luckily, I accomplished my twin goals of enjoying a baseball game and seeing the Arch in St. Louis!

Go Phils!

Tara Lipinski as a fat redneck dude

When I think of figure eights, I think of figure skating with tiny elven girls glidning across the ice in their little showgirl costumes. At the Bloomsburg Fair, when tbey talk about figure eights they talk about sending beat-up compact cars careening around huge tires in a figure eight pattern. Think figure skating minus any class but plus lots of redneck.

Following the multiple races to qualify and the main event, most of the participants decided to enter the demolition derby to destroy their race cars. I was cheering for # 76 for obvious reasons.

Following the carnage, I decided I needed a picture in front of the results.

Oh the humanity!!!!

Phucked up in Philadelphia

Something you should probably know: Fear itself is afraid of Cole Hamels.[1]

The only good thing I can say about Saturday night was Cole Hamels pitched and the Phillies won and continued to win until they were tied with the Brewers atop the NL East standings. A feat initially deemed as unlikely by me and many fellow Phillies' fans has now come to futition – the Phils have tied the Milwaukee Brewers for the final spot in the playoffs. The Phils are also only a half behind the New York Mets and should the Mets struggle against the Washington Nationals, the Phils could take the lead in the NL East and embarrass the Mets…again.

But really, I did not choose picsofmeinfrontofstuff.blogspot.com to talk about the Phillies, I do that enough on myspace. This blog is about my misadventures throughout New Jersey and the rest of the world. Unfortunately, the last misadventure was a lot more MIS than adventure and so I will not go into explicit details as to the stupid things that may have gone on (read: stupid shit I did). To put it bluntly, I am normally the responsible one and I was not on Saturday. To my friends who were unfortunate enough to deal with that, I am sorry. Let's file this one under F for Fucked Up.

As for the famous or ridiculous, here's a picture of me with Ben, one of the poor souls who ventured down the unfortunate path of Saturday night, and the owner of the bar, Glam, in which our night went from mild fun to wild, blurry nightmare.

Note to self, though the drinks are free this does not mean I need to keep drinking them. That is probably the important lesson learned from that evening. That is going to be a mistake I do not plan on making again.

[1] Cole Hamels Fact No 10. Cole Hamels Facts.com

Visiting One of the Fathers of Football

Way before the New England Patriot's stretch of dynastic domination of the NFL was derailed by a blitzing Kansas City Chiefs safety, there was what many consider to be the first dynasty in the NFL – the Green Bay Packers of the 1960s. While the beginning of the 21st Century has the 'genius' of Bill Belicheck, the 1960s had the man after whom the Super Bowl trophy is named, Vincent T. Lombardi. Coach Lombardi guided the Packers to 5 NFL championships, including the first 2 Super Bowls. Lombardi was also a member of the Seven Blocks of Granite, the moniker given to the offensive line of the 1936 Fordham University offensive line, for which he starred at center. That's right, the football factory currently known as Fordham University… Based on his offensive line play, the Rotary Lomdardi Award is given to the nation's best offensive or defensive lineman and linebacker. The physical award is actually a block of granite on a pedestal paying homage to Lombardi's time as a Block of Granite.[1] It is fitting that the award for the best linemen is clever, since offensive linemen are the smartest and most clever players to step on a football field. Tackles, centers, and guards entering the NFL draft fill 3 of the 4 top scoring spots on the Wonderlic test, a 50 question problem solving test administered during the NFL Combine.[2] Sadly, their defensive counterparts tend to perpetuate the idea that linemen as a whole are dumb. Getting back to the topic at hand – Vincent T. Lombardi was born in Brooklyn and obviously must have spent some time living in the New York area since he played at Fordham University and coached at Army. Clearly, he must have lived in Wisconsin at least during the football season. But the famed coach does not live anywhere now, having succumbed to cancer at the age of 57 in 1970. Vince Lombardi, along with his wife, is currently buried at Mt. Olivet Cemetery in Monmouth, NJ.[3] Considering Vince Lombardi is an immortal in the game of football and my 26 year obsession with the game of football I hold high esteem for the man, the myth, and the legend that Vince Lombardi was and is. I was proud to learn that high school near my current apartment plays football on Vince Lombardi Field. I was also pleased to learn through Findagrave.com the exact location of the Lombardi gravesite and with the beginning of the football season decided to make a pilgrimage in hopes of providing a blessing to those most important to me i.e. Penn State, Juniata College, and the Philadelphia Eagles. Despite being a luminary in the football community, there is no Lombardi Taj Mahal. More importantly, because Coach Lombardi was a luminary in the football community and not in the international community there is no Lombardi Taj Mahal.

So I visited the Lombardi grave in Monmouth, NJ with my best high school football face and college football jersey with me. The beautiful autumn background reminded me of the wonderful falls I spent running into other large young men and cheering with my best friends. While I was there, I took my picture since this is http://www.picsofmeinfrontofstuff.blogspot.com/, said a little prayer, and went on my way.

I can only wish when I am long gone that I have done enough in life for some young man to come get his picture taken next to his grave.

Hooray, football!

References:

[1] Wikipedia.com. Vincent T. Lombardi
[2] Zimmerman, Paul. New Thinking Man's Guide to Pro Footbal.
[3] Findagrave.com Vincent T. Lombardi.

Melee at Shea

We might be smiling during my second visit to the level of Hell known as Shea Stadium, but the Phillies are losing and there are fist fights going on behind us.

If I have not lived a life worth of reaching the pearly gates and instead descend into Hell, with all of its fire and brimstone, I am positive that there will be a special section for me with loudspeakers that ceaselessly play a crowd chanting 'Let's Go, Mets!' There is a not single phrase repeated over and over game that more fills my mouth with bile nor burns my ears more than that three-syllabic cheer for the residents of Shea stadium. Imagine Karl Rove and Sarah Palin in Mile High Stadium during Barack Obama's acceptance speech during the Democratic National Convention – that is the kind of Hell I am talking about.

Having already spent one evening in the dump known as Shea Stadium, I found myself returning with feelings of excitement at the possibility of a Phillies sweep and a tie for first place in the NL East. My man-crush, Cole Hamels was on the mound to oppose one of Satan's newest minions, Johan Santana. Not only was our ace pitching, but also the Phillies had won the two previous games of the series including the day game of the day-night doubleheader caused by Hurricane Hanna. I felt the stars were aligned for a sweep and a tie for first.

Unfortunately, the Baseball Gods did not agree and Cole gave up 3 runs in the first inning and the Phillies gave up 6 overall while managing to score only 3. The real excitement was in the stands of Shea as supporters of the Phillies had traveled to Shea to harass the fans of the Mets. Imagine once again Karl Rove and Sarah Palin at the DNC – this time drunk and mentally challenged. Even with security nearby, including an angry man wearing a jacket emblazoned with SUPERVISOR, across the back, multiple melees ensued in the later innings in my section as well as the surrounding sections. At one point,l a multitude of angry, mostly overweight, security guards in bright orange shirts rushed past me on the steps headed towards the fighting.

Leading up to the hand-to-hand combat, some of the would-be warriors traded insults with the initial raucous Philadelphia Phanatics hurling brilliant barbs such as 'Retarded Retards!' as well as the old standby of questioning the Phans’ heterosexuality. The truly great aspect of the ultimate Mets defenders was the fact that while they yelled at the invaders from Philadelphia, the game for which they had paid to see was going on behind their backs. Clearly, these were shining examples of the residents of New York and Philadelphia. The most amazing combatant was the younh, male (and I use that term lightly about New York Mets fans) Mets fan somehow was involved and possibly instigated 3 fights and yet was not forced to leave until he got into a fight directly in front of security. Maybe that's why call them the Amazin' Mets.

Either way, Go Phils!

Everclear at the Union County Music Festival

One of the most exciting moments up to that point in my very young life was going to see Everclear at the Electric Factory in Philadelphia my senior year of high school. I had never driven to the big city sans parents and so visiting Philadelphia at night with my best friend Ben driving was a very exciting time. DJ Spooky, the Black Eyed Peas in the pre-Fergie era, and Soul Coughing opened for Everclear. I remember seeing a couple making out pretty heavily directly in front of me as well landing on people's feet when I jumped up and down with the music. It had been only the second concert I ever attended, preceded by witnessing Genesis live at Veterans Stadium when I was in 5th grade. It truly was an exciting evening though it no longer ranks as highly as it once did.

Fast forward approximately 10 years and 75 miles northeast of Philadelphia and I found myself going to an Everclear concert once again. This time there was no will.i.am. or Super Bon Bon to open for Art Alexakis and company and I was no longer an intimidated 16-year-old in the big city for the first time.

I was a little bit older and a little bit bigger this time around.

Look a those guns!!!

Just like the last time, Everclear rocked even though all but Mr. Alexakis have been replaced. Another difference was the fact that all the Everclear songs to which I knew the words were old school, hard core Everclear.
Here's my personal favorite, "Father of Mine".



I knew all the words. When did I become old?

Regardless of my numerical age or perceived age, the concert rocked. From two concerts in two nights, my ears are currently ringing but both were great. More importantly, Everclear closed out the show with 'Jenny/867-5309' and they proved why it is great to be a rockstar.

Wild Sweet Orange in Philadelphia

I started this blog because I am obsessed with having my picture taken in front of/with unique/famous people, places, or things. However, this entry contains no pictures of me at all. Still makes for an interesting story, at least to me.

Gabe, my co-worker, invited Kate, another co-worker, and I to a concert featuring Wild Sweet Orange and What Made Milwaukee Famous at The Khyber in Philadelphia on Thursday night because he was 'on the list' (OTL). You know those cool people who to get to go wherever, they are OTL. So by getting us OTL, Gabe was making us some of those cool people.

Wild Sweet Orange is small rock band from Alabama, fronted by Preston Lovingood. Preston's sister married Gabe's cousin so Preston is almost related to Gabe. Therefore Gabe had a connection to get us OTL.

Sweet, that equals free concert at The Khyber in Old City Philly.

So Gabe, Kate, and I journeyed to Philadelphia to visit The Khyber and listen to live music for free since we were OTL. However, when we arrived at the Khyber, at 9PM the designated start time of the concert there was no band and NO LIST! You can not be OTL without the L. WTF?! Since we had driven ~2 hours to get there we forked over the $12 to get in and drink some $2 bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon (PBR).

Fortunately, while we sat and drank our PBR and watched the NFL game of the season Gabe spotted his cousin (for lack of a better description) Preston, mainly by his big, long-haired white boy afro. Gabe would not immediately introduce himself, but with some prodding from Kate, a veteran concert attendee, and a few more ounces of PBR Gabe stuck out his hand and introduced himself. Preston turned out to be a very nice guy and talked to us off and on throughout the night. Best of all, Preston told his tour manager to get us a refund for the cover we had paid pre-L. With the L and the band present, we were OTL and had immediately become cool.

VICTORY!!

Preston also hooked us up with some free Yuenglings, a small improvement over the PBR. Sadly, though Preston hung out with us, I blew my chance to satisfy my photography obsession by my own simple inaction. If he becomes a big rock star I will have to punch myself in the junk.

Overall, the concert was good. Both Wild Sweet Orange and What Made Milwaukee Famous were excellent bands and I plan on borrowing the CDs purchased by Gabe and Kate. Though we did not get home until 2AM on a work night, I would definitely stay out late to be OTL again.

Wild Sweet Orange


What Made Milwaukee Famous