Start me up

Recently I was reading a blog where "Welcome to the Jungle" was put forth as the best first album track-one of all time. It's not bad, but I don't think it would crack my top five. Which got me thinking about what I would put up there. Here are some nominees I had, in no particular order:

Led Zeppelin, "Good Times Bad Times"
Kick-ass. Possibly one of Zeppelin's ten best songs, period; for all the different styles they tried and as great as a lot of their more "experimental" stuff could be, for my money they were just drop-dead awesome at the basics of rocking. (See also: "Communication Breakdown.")

The Beatles, "I Saw Her Standing There"
"One two three fah!" In my rankings this is the best song the Beatles put on an album until 1965, and it was the opening track of their very first LP. And since it's a Beatles song, you know it's an all-time classic.

The Doors, "Break On Through (to the Other Side)"
Although they put out fully six studio LPs between 1967 and 1971, the Doors easily peaked in front-to-back quality with their first one, which contains probably three of their five most famous songs, including this one. There's really never been another band that sounded quite like the Doors did on their first album, and this was the song that introduced the world to it.

Boston, "More Than a Feeling"
You could argue this one, I suppose; Boston, to some degree, only has this one album, and while "More Than a Feeling" is a pretty good song, it may not be the all-time classic that some of these songs are. But it at least deserves a place in this narrow discussion.

Cream, "I Feel Free"
Perhaps an unfair comparison with many of the rest of these, as Cream was a fully-functioning supergroup even in 1966. All four of their albums have all-time classic songs on them, but "I Feel Free" is certainly one of the five best they did, and they had the sheer balls to open with it.

U2, "I Will Follow"
Not everyone loves U2, and Boy is a more forgettable album than stuff like The Unforgettable Fire and The Joshua Tree, but even those who think U2 is a really overrated band, particularly in the last decade, should be willing to admit that for a first song by a group that formed as a cover band in Dublin just four years earlier (famously, before most of the band members were particularly proficient with their chosen instruments), the driving rock of "I Will Follow" is pretty great.

It's also interesting to think about the songs that don't qualify because they came off a second album that just happened to be the first one the artist actually got known for. Take "Blowin' in the Wind," for example, which would be a strong contender for #1 on this list... except that The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan was Dylan's second album, following 1962's self-titled album which today is almost entirely forgotten (and not without reason; Dylan's two-disc "Essential" album, released late in his career, contains no tracks from that first album but two from Freewheelin'). 1970's Elton John leads with "Your Song," but his first solo album was 1969's Empty Sky, which, according to All Music Guide, contains no "forgotten gems." Other bands still put what turned out to be their first album's seminal song in a position other than the opener; "My Generation" is track six even though it gives The Who's first album its name, and "American Girl," which I always loved as the opener to Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers' Greatest Hits album, is the last track on Petty's debut.

Pull out "More Than a Feeling" and you might have my top five, though it's of course tempting to include personal favorites like The New Pornographers' "Mass Romantic," Ben Folds Five's "Jackson Cannery," Fountains of Wayne's "Radiation Vibe," and The Killers' "Jenny Was a Friend of Mine."

Did I leave out any supreme classics? What would be your top two or three or five?

Stop the presses

Journalists gravitate towards the best story. It's not much of a surprise, therefore, that as Josh Hamilton - introduced by Chris Berman as "five of the best stories in baseball this year" - pounded 500-foot homer after 500-foot homer in the first round of last night's Home Run Derby, it wasn't just the crowd that immediately crowned Hamilton the new home run king before he'd actually won the Derby. And I mean, that's fine - Hamilton is a good story, a former #1 overall draft pick who threw his career away thanks to heroin addiction, then defied the odds to make it back to the major leagues and now, in what will be his first full big-league season assuming he doesn't get injured, leads baseball in RBIs at the All-Star break. He hit 28 home runs in the first round last night and 35 total; he has just 40 career home runs.

But he didn't actually win the Home Run Derby. Totals reset in the final round and Hamilton, probably worn out from hitting 28 moon shots in the first round, was able to crank out just three, falling to Justin Morneau. Morneau hit just 22 home runs in the entire Derby, but he hit more than Hamilton in the final round, and so he actually won.

Now. The Home Run Derby is a ridiculous exhibition, and it doesn't really matter who wins. And Hamilton's first-round barrage was, in fact, something to behold. But the morning after, and even right after it happened last night, people were ready to erase Morneau from the history books like he hadn't even been present, which seemed a little odd. Sure, it's not much of a story for a mild-mannered Canadian guy who already has an MVP trophy on his shelf to win the Derby with a mere 22 home runs. But it was the story. Don't tell that to people like Jayson Stark:

[H]ow will we explain that this was Josh Hamilton's night even though, technically speaking, somebody else won?

That somebody else was Twins first baseman Justin Morneau, by the way. We'd probably better mention that now before we forget -- because it'll be, oh, about 20 minutes before everyone else forgets.

Again - yeah, okay. Hamilton had a really awesome first round. He had 50,000 people in Yankee Stadium chanting his last name. It was a pretty great moment. So great, apparently, that it proved the existence of God, at least if you ask new ESPN acquisition and unrepentant sapmeister Rick Reilly, who was quoted during the broadcast as saying, "It's a lousy night to be an atheist."

This because Hamilton apparently had a dream two years that he was competing in the Home Run Derby, at Yankee Stadium, and because Hamilton credits God with saving him from his drug addiction. Of course, as Junior at Fire Joe Morgan pointed out:

It already seemed weird at the time, but now it seems even weirder that God, if He does indeed exist, would shove it in the atheists' faces by having Hamilton break Bobby Abreu's hallowed first-round record of 24 home runs (was Abreu's night also a bad night for atheists?) and then come right back and force Josh to hit only 3 taters when the contest is on the line. Questionable storytelling sense, God.

In addition, Mike Davidson, the State Farm Insurance guy who presented the check to the Boys and Girls Club, called Morneau "Jason," inspiring a rather hilarious grimace-then-laugh from Erin Andrews, who didn't pronounce his last name very well either ("Mar-neau") but at least knew that his first name was Justin. Mike Davidson doesn't work in baseball, but I don't think it's unfair to expect him to know the guy's name, especially when it's been announced and flashed all around the stadium multiple times during the event. (Let's not cut Andrews too much slack; the only question she asked Morneau after the trophy presentation was, "How did you beat Josh Hamilton?") It may have been a lousy night to be an atheist, but in some ways it was an even lousier night to be Justin Morneau.

We all got it. Josh Hamilton is a good story. And we know that after that first round, everyone at ESPN desperately wanted him to win. But it seems like it could have been a little less transparent somehow. It's okay if the crowd was deflated after Hamilton lost (and they were), but I would have expected a little better from journalists, even at a non-event like the Home Run Derby. Would this happen at the World Series? Like say the Cubs and Red Sox played in the World Series this year - obviously at this point the Cubs winning would be the "better story." If the Cubs were to lose in seven games, and the very first person interviewed on the field at the conclusion of the seventh game were Lou Piniella, and then during the trophy presentation Bud Selig called Terry Francona "Tony," do you think Red Sox fans might be a little annoyed by that? Maybe at the Home Run Derby it doesn't matter so much, but it seems a bit problematic to let storylines completely dictate your coverage. That's the only reason I'm not looking forward to a Cubs postseason run - you know that during every game we're going to hear about Bartman and the goat and everything else that Cubs fans are sick of hearing about eight thousand times. Because that's where the "story" is, and God forbid we just watch some baseball games.

A lame excuse for an excuse

Did you hear about Jesse Jackson's comments about Barack Obama? No? Here they are:

The remarks came Sunday as Jackson was talking to a fellow interviewee, UnitedHealth Group executive Dr. Reed V. Tuckson. An open microphone picked up Jackson whispering, "See, Barack's been talking down to black people ... I want to cut his nuts off."

Well! That's certainly a classy statement. Reverend Jackson, anything to say in your defense?

Jackson told CNN's "Situation Room" that he didn't realize the microphone was on.

"It was very private," Jackson said, adding that if "any hurt or harm has been caused to his campaign, I apologize."

Private, huh - you don't say. I'm shocked that you didn't think the microphone was on. But let's not bullshit here, Reverend - you clearly believe what you said, or you wouldn't have said it. And note that nothing in Jackson's words actually backs off the statement itself. He says that he didn't realize the microphone was on and that the comment was private - as if blaming other people for having heard him - and then apologizes for the following things:

* "if any hurt or harm has been caused to [Obama's] campaign"
* the fact that the particular words used were "crude"

Earlier, Jackson told CNN he felt "very distressed because I'm supportive of this campaign and with the senator."

"So supportive that I would like to cut his nuts off for being, supposedly, condescending." Nice work, Jesse.

Just for fun

Alma found a bag of old candy while we were looking for new candy in her parents' dining room. How old? Well, there were some marshmallows marked as expiring in 1999, and a bunch of Laffy Taffy that, according to Alma, she sold for a class fundraiser in 1997 or 1998. Then, she dared me to eat one.



Thanks to the quality of the camera phone, it can be a little hard to hear me, so I made the following transcript in case you really wanted to know:

Alma: Okay, go ahead.
Me: I used to buy these at the Prescription Counter for a nickel. Man, this is gonna be like, totally stuck to the wrapper, isn't it.
Alma: Yeah.
Me: [unintelligible]
[I eat the candy]
Me: "What do you drop when you're using it, but pick up when you're not?"
Alma: Um, I don't know.
Me: "An anchor." Ohh!
Alma: How is it?
Me: Not really a joke...
Alma: [laughs]
Me: Um, it tastes a little like paint.
Alma: Is that how they usually taste?
Me: Yeah, pretty much.
Alma: Okay, don't eat any more, all right?
Me: Mmm! [moves package towards mouth]
Alma: Hold on, hold on, hold up the wrapper, I wanna get the, uh, the year on the-
Me: Oh. Mm, here.
[The copyright year is 1995.]
Alma: Okay.

And yes, I know - the position I was sitting in makes me look really fat. No need to mention it.

San Diego recap

Too many pics and stuff for the blog, so check it out here. If you like being bored.

Now in select cities

Being in San Diego, with my first experience with In-N-Out Burger and seeing other places I'd heard of but never been to (like Del Taco), made me think a bit about the interesting existence of regional restaurant franchises. When you get right down to it, there aren't very many places that actually span the entire country, but there are a number of other places that are hugely popular in certain regions, and end up gaining this weird national cult status as a result. Here's a few that leap to mind:

In-N-Out: This might be the #1. People swear it's the best fast food burger, and yet it doesn't extend east of Tucson or even north of Redding, CA. You basically have to be in Vegas, California, or the big Arizona cities to see one. And the crazy thing is, they basically have four things on the menu (hamburger, cheeseburger, fries, shake). Best fast food burger? No, but better than the major national chains? Sure. Probably not deserving of its cult status though.

Sonic: Especially now that they advertise nationally even though you've got to drive a couple hours from Chicago or New York to get to one. I barely remember my one experience with Sonic, which came on a quiz bowl trip to points south; the drive-in aspect is a large part of the appeal, as focused on in their generally obnoxious ads, while the food seems secondary. My recollection of the food is nil, so that sounds about right.

White Castle: I never thought of it that way since they were around when I was growing up, but there are no White Castles west of Missouri or south of Tennessee, and they're almost completely absent from New England (though you can get frozen sliders in grocery stores in nearly every state, even ones without actual restaurant locations, New England doesn't even have those). Alma tells the story of people from California out in Chicago for a friend's wedding who insisted on going to a White Castle; this was pre-"Harold and Kumar," so they didn't even have that excuse.

Chick-fil-A: Famously closed on Sundays, the Chick-fil-A site doesn't have an easy-to-use map, but there are (as I mentioned in this week's Junk Monitor) no locations within 50 miles of Chicago, and just two dozen total within 50 miles of New York and Los Angeles. By and large they're a southeastern phenomenon, yet they're popular enough that McDonald's felt a need to rip off their signature sandwich for mass distribution. Considering how obnoxiously religious Chick-fil-A is, though (right down to doing cross-promotion with Focus on the Family), maybe I don't mind the lack of them around here so much.

Krispy Kreme: Krispy Kreme donuts are now sold in most states, though they still omit the northern midwest and most of New England. When I was growing up in New Jersey they were sort of like In-N-Out, this far-off myth of the "best donuts ever" that you could never see in your life. Even as recently as 2001, they were hard enough to find in Illinois that we drove out to the location near O'Hare just to get some. Now they're in every Jewel (although obviously not "HOT NOW").

Carvel: The Geneva store appears to have closed, meaning that there is now one Carvel in Illinois (in Wilmette); when searching for my "three nearest stores" on their website, the next two results are in Michigan, over 200 miles away. Carvel has gained national recognition on the strength of novelty cakes like Fudgie the Whale and Cookiepuss, and you can get their cakes in Jewels out here. You can probably also get perfectly adequate soft-serve at any other place that does soft-serve. But as I was saying to someone recently, when I was growing up, Carvel was ice cream. Places like Cold Stone didn't exist yet and South Orange didn't have a Baskin Robbins or a Dairy Queen. I'm pretty sure I went to Carvel more often between the ages of 6 and 14 than to any other single food-service establishment.

Carvel is an example of the desire for something springing up not around some mythical status but around having little else for so long and suddenly being deprived. I'm not sure if there's anything else I could personally put in that category, aside from maybe Blimpie.

Anyway, those are just some examples that I came up with off the top of my head, but I'd love to hear from the readers (all three of you) on this one. Places that you had as a kid and now long for? Places you hear about as awesome but don't ever see? Places you have but think other people are curious about?

Crowned

Normally I feel about horse racing similarly to the way the rest of the Sports Night cast reacted when Jeremy Goodwin attempted to pitch Secretariat for Athlete of the Century - I don't have the DVDs with me, but when Jeremy delivers his final pitch (based on the fact that Secretariat's heart was found to be much larger than normal at his autopsy), "He had the heart of a champion," either Dan or Casey responds, "And I'm saying he had the heart of a horse." But in light of yet another failure to win the Triple Crown (there have now been as many failed attempts by Derby/Preakness winners just since 1978 as there have been actual winners of the Triple Crown in history, 11 each), I wanted to go back and look at Secretariat's dominant 31-length win in the 1973 Belmont. He was only facing four other horses, but the field included Sham, who had finished second in both the Derby and Preakness. Sham held Secretariat for about 3/4 of a mile - half the race's 1 1/2-mile distance - then tired and ultimately finished last. Secretariat, astonishingly, just kept going and ended up blowing away the track record.

I mention all this simply as a way of introducing this piece from the SportsCentury episode on Secretariat, which is immaculately put together. I'm as cynical about horse racing as anyone, but this piece gives me chills every time (and I've watched it five or six times now). If you wonder what ever made me want to be a video editor, it was the thought of putting together stuff like this.

What can't Brown do for you? Win the Belmont

Tyler and I have an occasional game where we try to guess the pun- or rhyme-based headlines that will arise from various sporting events. Today, as you may know, Big Brown not only didn't win the Triple Crown, he finished last in the Belmont's nine-horse field. Immediately my mind went to possible headlines on ESPN.com and the like:

"No Crown for Brown"

"Brown Goes Down"

"No Browning Achievement"

"Down Goes Brown"

"Brown and Out"

"Brown for the Count"

"Brown-Out at Belmont"

"Tears of a Brown"

"Big Brown Not Even #2 at Belmont"

And then there was Alma's suggestion:

"What's big and brown and smells like failure?"

EDIT: Oh man, you guys. So I posted this at 10 pm; at the time, the headline on ESPN.com was the non-pun-or-rhyme-based "Not So Fast..." As of this edit, the headline is "Brown and Out." Screen-cap proof here. I better see a royalty check in my mailbox soon, ESPN.

Back in town

I'm back from San Diego. A deeper discussion of this with pictures will be up within a few days once Alma can get all her photos into the computer, but it was pretty nice, even if I only managed to see one of the two Cubs wins and had to sit through their loss. By far the worst part of the trip was the flight back in - in particular, the end of it, which was at best the second-worst turbulence I can recall having to deal with thanks to 35 mph winds at O'Hare - and while the weather wasn't quite as warm as maybe I would have liked, it's not bad when the weather is in the mid-60s with some sun and no humidity. It certainly isn't worse than the steamy 85 degrees I came back to.

All in all, it was a pretty fun time, and a good choice for my first true vacation since 1994. I don't know if I'll be able to take a vacation like that every year, but I'd like to. I think it's been good for me to just have some time away, not having to worry about anything. (Kudos to work for not calling me in a panic at any point.)

I'm not the first Sparkle

The yo-yo weather continues. We get a great weekend - two straight days (Sunday and Monday) that ranged from mid-70s to low-80s, and the scheduled storms managed only to come overnight, leaving enough time for things to dry out by the time I'd be awake enough to go outside, thus enabling Alma and me to squeeze in another round of mini golf on Monday afternoon - and then I wake up today and it's 43 degrees with a wind chill dropping it to nearly freezing. This delightful meteorological anomaly is known as a "pneumonia front," and apparently this was only the seventh time it's happened in recorded weather history. It's supposed to warm back up by the end of the week, and then rain for much of next week while maintaining high temperatures on the warm side - but then I won't be here next week, and hopefully the weather in San Diego will be what the weather in San Diego is known for being. Of course the ten-day for San Diego lists temperatures for next week like "high 67, low 61" and "high 65, low 61," which isn't bad, but probably could have been a little warmer. I suppose this is what I get for scheduling a vacation during the June Gloom.