The Awesomeness that is Canton 1.28.09

     I've finally gotten around to doing Canton. As a non-resident, I hope I can do justice to this truly spectacular Baltimore neighborhood. "Rantin' from Canton" was right: this was definitely missing from my older list of Baltimore neighborhoods and restaurants. This week is Baltimore Restaurant Week; unfortunately, the weather, schoolwork, and economy have not been particularly conducive to making full use of this. Nevertheless, I hope to hit at least a couple more of the best and most original downtown spots before the end of the week and take advantage of the specials, discounted prices, the culture, and, of course, the food. This past weekend, I was reminded that I needed to shed some light on the previously forgotten neighborhood, Canton. We went down there for dinner the other day, and ended up at a really cool restaurant called Helen's Garden. There was a new chef, in fact, that night, because their old chef has apparently just been called back to "Top Chef," which is pretty cool. 

     Anyways, I had some really good marinated Greek chicken kebabs with tzatziki and asparagus. The asparagus was a little overcooked, and the service was not outstanding, but nonetheless, the painted walls and original artwork for sale created a really cool vibe. Constructed out of two rowhouses, the entrance to Helen's Garden is through a painted tunnel-like space that used to be the little alleyway between the two homes. On either side is a bar and a restaurant, and the artwork was colorful and original, many of the subjects including Hopper-like storefronts, or colorful "Amish Quilts." These pops of color were a really nice juxtaposition to the darker, sleeker, and more neutral feel created by the low lighting, the contemporary seating, and the cream colored walls with dark trim. There were even cool little alcoves that had been built off of the other wall, with sheer bronze curtains adding to the intimate setting. 

     It also had unique qualities, like a surprise special, prepared by the main chef. If a customer orders this, all he knows about the dish is that he has a choice between filet and scallops, and he is surprised by whichever way the chef decides to pull each plate together. No two customers get the same surprise special; my dad ordered this, choosing scallops, and was quite happy with the result. In addition, their truly gourmet burgers are made with ground filet mignon, and the sweet potato fries, or regular, looked divine. They were golden brown, hand cut and sprinkled with salt and a fresh herb mix, and toppled over the large serving dish. For desert they had homemade Michigan cherry bread pudding, and volcano cakes that looked awesome, although if neither of these look good, you can always run across the street to the legendary Vaccaro's for one of the best cannolis in Baltimore. 

     Anyways, Helen's was pretty good. If you're looking for a place to watch the Ravens (next season) or something more casual, there is the epic Looney's or a family favorite of ours, Nacho Mama's, which features paraphernalia and merchandise from both the Baltimore Ravens and Colts teams. It's like a great place for cheap, indulgent foods, Natty Boh (if you're 21 and older), a museum, and a conversation with an authentic and eccentric Baltimorean all in one. In addition to the Baltimore brew, now made in North Carolina (weak,) Nacho Mama's, as I recall, loves Elvis. Loves. 

     I was looking at this place, Birches, that looks pretty excellent as well. Who wouldn't want to try 'The Original Pink House Dip,' with "backfin crab, artichoke hearts, baby spinach mingling with cream cheese and house spice, served with toasted baguette half?"I don't know, but I don't want to meet that person. In addition to the foodie stuff, it looks to have a good blend of pub grub, so to speak, and excellent brick-oven pizza and burgers. At the Can Company, you can find Austin Grill and, of course, Ray Lewis' Full Moon BBQ. (Although I am disappointed that Ray doesn't know it should be Lewis's rather than Lewis'.) He does a radio show there, too. Monday nights I believe. Gecko's is apparently some great southwestern style food, and then there is the classic seafood place/ rawbar with a cool name, 'Mama's On the Half Shell.' Anything crab or oyster is here, from shooters to crab dip, which I have already admitted I have a special spot for. Bay Cafe has also been acclaimed by some as the best waterfront spot in the city, which is saying a lot, and while its menu is simple, it sure does sound delicious. 

     Wherever you want to eat, and no matter what you want to do, it seems pretty clear that the heart of Canton is O'Donnell Square, which better resembles city storefronts from the 60's, or a small town main street, than it does a hotspot in the middle of Baltimore City. This, to me, is a good thing. It also has a park in the middle, complete with benches, and I'm sure perfect for enjoying a spring day or late summer evening. The community and the care put into these establishments really pays off, because like Fell's Point, Canton is an inviting place, where one cannot help but feel immersed in true Baltimore culture, and also safe.     No matter where you look, there is something cool to look at, something cool to eat, or something cool to buy, from one of the numerous locally owned and unique shops, selling quirky Baltimore stuff, pet goods, antiques, clothing. . As a crusader against sprawl, particularly urban sprawl, the brick facades and humble storefronts are pleasing to me, and it is clear that Canton's community members are uniquely attentive to their surroundings, and their dedication and commitment is reflected in Canton's growing popularity. Preservation and restoration of areas like Canton, so integral to the well being of a city like Baltimore, is often overlooked. But not here; Canton has fought the odds and come back stronger than ever.

      A short trip from Fell's Point, Patterson Park, and even the Inner Harbor, the Canton area is definitely accessible, and people are taking full advantage of this ('2910 on the square', right next to Helen's is a particularly good example of this, and offers one of a kind things on par with the artsy goods sold in and around Hampden's Cafe Hon.) After the Depression, Canton became home to many immigrants from various countries, and these communities have today forged a unique cultural epicenter that transcends the cuisine and events offered in and around the area. Canton is constantly offering karaoke nights, music festivals, and hosting green initiatives. As the home of the first branch of the Enoch Pratt library, as I remember, history certainly lives here. The waterfront scene is beginning to take root as well, and a full scale revival of this neighborhood is making it inarguably one of the best places to live and/or hang out in Baltimore. Bottom line, Mr. Rantin' from Canton, where you live is pretty awesome and I'm jealous.

Beijing: Gold Chains 'Round My Neck Just Like Michael Phelps

a little collage that I made back in August honoring the Baltimorean

Obama Inauguration 2009: Republicans Red, Democrats Blue; Out with the Old and In with the New!

     Red, Blue. Personally, I've always been a fan of purple, and I think that the vibrant hue might be coming into style, which means we can pull the dress out of the closet that has been sitting, accumulating moth-holes for the past eight years. Unfortunately, purple also kind of depresses me lately, which you would understand if you watched the Ravens game.

     That was the last time that Terrell Suggs, Ray Lewis, and Bart Scott will play together, and the last time they will play for Rex Ryan. That was our last chance. We had to win. But Daren Stone, the officials, our fourth string CB, Ben Roethlisberger, and Troy Polamalu had different ideas. It didn't help that Limas Sweed had to take out his frustrations (that he can't catch) with a cheap hit to Corey Ivy. It didn't help that Hines Ward, although rendered immobile in the second quarter, had his usual stupid comments and flashed his usual stupid smile. It didn't help that Willis McGahee was the best player on the entire Ravens roster that night. It didn't help that he was absolutely crushed in a helmet to helmet hit that unnerved the entire team and confirmed the Steelers' victory. It didn't help that for once, we went to our passing game, but entrusted the responsibility to a rookie quarterback who made maybe 10 completions all season. 

     The penalties didn't help. The defense's numerous missed tackles really hurt. Sam Koch was as frozen as, well, ice, and we all know that touching ice burns. Most of all what really hurt was that this season, this experience, came to an end. The Baltimore Ravens defense as we know it came to an end. And it didn't go out in style. Despite the injured Terrell Suggs making huge tackles and even recording two key sacks, we were beaten. Badly. And when it counted most, we allowed Big Ben to make completions all over the field, whether they be to Hines Ward or No-names. What really hurts is not hearing the Sports Radio chatter when I drive home from school. Not seeing the purple flags whipping past me, as cars rush by. No more "let's go Ravens" spelled into the sign at McDonalds, no more Ravens Specials at restaurants. No more electricity, no more hope. And now we will have to wait long months until next football season. And who knows if we'll even be good next year.

      are you aware you lost the AFC Championship yesterday, Joe?

     Putting football aside, though, it's been a pretty darn good weekend. I mean Bruce once again proved himself to be a superior being, and put on a great show for the President. And  also realized my blog is named after his song, so... But sure enough, there are some good signs for the country's future. First of all, Barack Obama was inaugurated yesterday. While I sat taking a Biology exam, my dad stood among a crowd of millions, waiting to catch a glimpse of our President. Luckily I got home in time to catch it on TV. First of all, as they wheeled Cheney out, I couldn't help but think that he looked remarkably like Scrooge. Or Potter, if you've ever seen It's A Wonderful Life. Chris Matthews also observed Cheney's appearance to be a metaphor for his performance as Vice President and for the public opinion of him. 

     Then came the girls. Gorgeous. Angelic. I wanted to be their best friends. Wait, I still do. 1) Malia does not look like a 10 year old. 2) Sasha looked like the most adorable coral and tangerine teddy bear in their custom JCrew peacoats. Audrey Hepburn is one thing, but these girls are a real style icon. I totally want to buy a matching one. Michelle looked sophisticated and assumed an elegance I can only hope to attempt some day. Joe and Jill, my favorite All-American couple. Oh, except for one. The President of the United States and his First Lady. 

     When Bush came out, the crowd booed him like noneother. They sang 'na na na na, na na na na, hey, hey, goodbye.' Personally, I took offense. I thought it was so disrespectful. His father was there. His wife. He was still our President. Who cares what he did or didn't do in office? At that point, he was still the face of our country. He is an American. 2) We reserve that song for Steelers' fans. But in all seriousness, I found that moment so disheartening, for how far have we really come, if we still boo Former President Bush? Luckily, they began to blare the music, in an attempt to drown out the disgraceful chants. Ted Kennedy popped out, looking cheerful as ever. 

      When it came time for President-Elect Barack Hussein Obama to drop the "Elect," I had trouble believing it. I didn't live during the civil rights movement, but I saw enough scarred, wrinkled, tear-soaked faces who did. I saw Elijah Cummings. I had trouble believing that George Bush simply wasn't President anymore. I had trouble believing that the man I made 300 phone calls for, organized canvassing trips for, put my whole faith into, would be the leader of the free world. He delivered a strong message to the nation, and the world, a sharp condemnation of the Bush years, and hope. He reminded us that we all need to do our jobs, and work hard, and love our neighbors. 

     He is a transformational figure, and while this is largely due to the color of his skin, who cares? If he inspires people to involve themselves in politics, or to vote for the first time, or to help a friend, or a stranger, who cares why he appeals to someone, why he inspires someone? In so many ways, things are already promising. Air strikes in the Gaza strip were ordered to conclude before yesterday. The world is listening. People show up to the United States Presidential Inauguration from Ethiopia, Kenya, France, Japan, Jamaica. 

     He wants to use words over weapons, he wants to use reason over irrational action. He wants to bring soldiers home, and make a commitment to these soldiers and their families. He voted for the GI bill. He realizes we are in the 21st Century, and need to fight wars as if we know this. Double alternative energy in the next three years, instead of pretending you've never heard of global warming. A real dedication to education. College tuition for community service. A President who understands the challenges of our nation because he has seen them first hand. He has been the boy who didn't want to learn, but then something peaked his interest, and made a name for himself. He knows what inspires kids, what makes them want to learn, how to improve their grades. He knows more than how a good family legacy can get you into Yale. He is shutting down Guantanamo Bay (literally, now.) Universal Healthcare. Finally. He is open to science and the world of wonders it can do. Tim Pawlenty, Republican Governor of Minnesota, spoke so kindly, so graciously of President Obama. He spoke of Obama's own transformation, his shift to more moderate positions, that appeal to more than the far left-wingers. 

     To all the haters, there is nothing false, or lame, about getting caught up in the jubilation, believing in the hope, thinking that "we can." People have said President Obama has made America cool again, and from my standpoint, if you think getting swept up in the magnitude and greatness of this is obnoxious, or stupid, or joke-worthy, if you mock this, all I can do is feel bad for you. I don't care if your comments are all in good fun, they are offensive to me and to my country. 

     During the Inauguration, Keith Olbermann commented that Obama looked tense before being introduced, and offered that he didn't "think anyone could possibly be calm in a situation like [this.]" I don't think Keith has met Joe Flacco. Joe Flacco, who everyone else in Baltimore has been completely enthralled by over the past four months, has never impressed me too much. And I really wish he would show some emotion. A smile, a frown. Even after he blew the game? He didn't even look upset. Really, that's all we get? I like people who wear their hearts on their sleeve. As professional as President Obama is, even he has, at times, channeled Vice President Biden and shown some feeling.

     "As we consider the road that unfolds before us, we remember with humble gratitude those brave Americans who, at this very hour, patrol far-off deserts and distant mountains. They have something to tell us, just as the fallen heroes who lie in Arlington whisper through the ages. We honour them not only because they are guardians of our liberty, but because they embody the spirit of service; a willingness to find meaning in something greater than themselves. And yet, at this moment - a moment that will define a generation - it is precisely this spirit that must inhabit us all." With this statement, President Obama reminded me of why I so seriously consider joining the Armed Services. Furthermore, I believe so much in this man, I am aware of the physical and mental capabilities our maker has given me, and I would gladly serve this Commander in Chief. I would gladly serve a nation as great as the one we live in, where on a sub-freezing January day, just 35 years after the conclusion of the Civil Rights movement, 3 million people fill the National Mall, stretching across the lawn, waving flags, and elbowing (in a friendly way) to catch sight of our nation swearing in a black President. 

     Rather, a president, who happens to be black. I doubt I would even know or care about the race factor if it weren't for the books, or the media.

     I am not going to lie, I am pretty jealous of the youth volunteers who were invited to the Youth Ball. MTV did a disgraceful job covering it, but the Obamas showed up, and even danced, "old school." Since I was such a dedicated volunteer, I am wondering how exactly these kids were chosen. But I think Barack's message to them was even more important. He told them that America progresses and changes when young people inspire their older countrymen. He told them that they made his impossible dream a reality, they made his journey possible. And while I wasn't at that ball, I know he was speaking to me too. I want to do more. I didn't get one of those fist bumps or thumbs up from Sasha that I covet (yet), but nonetheless I am beginning to feel the power. 

     My family and I drove to the side of the railroad tracks on Saturday. We didn't go downtown, because we knew it would be too crowded. About 20 other people stood near us, behind a Church, in Hartford County. There were police, too. And there were comparable groups of people lining the tracks from Pennsylvania to Baltimore. Where we were, firemen stood on their trucks, trying to catch the first glimpse as the Amtrak came around the bend. Old women sat, perched with digital cameras in hand. Children. My friend saw a Steelers Fan and a Ravens Fan sharing a towel where she was. (Could this perhaps bode well for the Israeli/ Palestinian conflict?) 

     A charming old man, with icy blue eyes, kind eyes, and wind-burnt skin, approached us and asked if he could help my dad hold our huge American flag as the train went by. In the 20 minutes we waited, they shared their entire life stories. He was a lifelong Midshipman, in every sense. He had dedicated his youth to our country, and he told us of his ventures. Then the train came. It rushed by, blazing down the tracks. They were inside the special car, but nonetheless, we stood a few hundred feet off from the World's role model. And we knew they saw us, felt our support. At the end, I told the man I was looking at the Academy, and his face lit up. He gave me a card and told me he would love to help me out, whether it be learning about the Academy or beginning the Admissions process. Those are the kind of people that voted for Barack Hussein Obama. Those are the kind of Americans we live side by side with. (And Ted Kennedy has left the hospital.) God Bless this country.     

[photos: NYTimes, Baltimore Sun]

A Lot to Love in Baltimore: What a Charmin' City

     When you enter "Baltimore" into urbandictionary.com, entry number 3 goes as follows, "...You like the grime, you like the fact that everything, absolutely everything, is stained and faded. Everything in the entire city, and even in many parts of the surrounding county, looks as though it was built sometime in the 50's and hasn't been sweeped since. I'm thinking mainly of the schools..." and the next entry rounds out the first page, with, "So we aren't the safest city... Don't be an idiot and wander into West Baltimore after dark. We might not be the cleanest, but the Inner Harbor collects all of the trash that floats through the freaking bay. But we have history. We are extremely cultured. We are Baltimore, and you aren't going to change that. "How 'bout dem O's, hon?"' 

     Well actually, MMoFoW, I don't think you want to ask that because I'm sure you know the Orioles are terrible. Others credit Baltimore as the home of Carmelo Anthony, and his "Stop Snitching" video, which is true. They talk about Mondawmin Mall, where you can go "if you brave." Others talk about chicken boxes, urban/ exotic hairstyles, The Wire, Honfest, Patterson Park, Charles Village, The Painted Ladies. Crabs, crabcakes, crab dip, crab anything. BELIEVE. "The City that Reads." The painted bridge near MICA. The (failing) Zoo. The National Aquarium. Hampden. Fell's Point. Canton. The typical. The murders, the crime. Definitely home to some original, profane, eccentric, and opinionated people. Fort McHenry. The Star Spangled Banner. Obama's coming on Saturday! The B&O Railroad. The '68 Riot. The '58 Colts. The '08 Ravens. The Bromo Seltzer Tower. Domino Sugar. Morgan State University. Station North. Penn Station. Pimlico. Coppin State, Howard University. Nancy Pelosi. Baltimorese. Gee, this listing is starting to resemble "We Didn't Start the Fire." Ironic. Duff Goldman, the Ace of Cakes (who is making the biggest mistake of his life by moving to Los Angeles. I am heartbroken.) John Waters. Hairspray. The 410. Our rivalries.

     The Charles Theatre. The Senator Theater. Under Armour. JOHNS HOPKINS LACROSSE. Black & Decker. Sheila Dixon and her corruption charges. City/ Poly. The private schools. Western. Dunbar. Frederick Douglass. The Sun (although it could use a little help.) Babe Ruth was born here, remember that. Cal Ripken Jr. Natty Boh. The NAACP. Mayflower vans; don't talk about them. Edgar Allen Poe. Nevermore. Jada Pinkett Smith. Step Up. OPRAH. Johnny U. Lenny Moore. Juan Dixon. Thurgood Marshall. Michael Phelps. Rocky AKA Sylvester Stallone. Mario. Pam Shriver. Goldie Hawn. KAL. Reggie Jackson. Nancy Pelosi. John Wilkes Booth. Tupac. Harriet Tubman. Annie Oakley. The guy who plays John Locke on LOST. David Hasselhoff. Cue slow-mo beach run. Oysters on the half-shell. Berger Cookies. The Lexington Market. Cross-Street Market. Each "Baltimoron" includes one or more of these in his own unique list.

     Also, Baltimore likes to lay claim to all these things and all these people. They may simply have roots here, or maybe endings, but these things are all part of us. Or at least the fact that we like to think so is part of us. I am so drawn to Baltimore, in part for the same reasons American Exceptionalism is so appealing to me. I like to believe that as small and insignificant as we are, we are part of something amazing, something meaningful, and of great magnitude. 

      And now we lay claim to about twenty more guys, and become part of something great for the second time this year. Just as Michael Phelps's spotlight begins to dim, we get to assume the spotlight of another great man. Or two. And celebrate in our shared hatred of Hines Ward, Joey Porter, James Harrison, and those stupid purple towels. And it feels so good to be acknowledged again. I love when our city gets attention for the great people and cultures it produces and contributes, rather than just for murder rates, and all that stereotypical stuff. Even in Boston, I have never felt quite as at home as I do in Baltimore. 

     There are tons of people who would criticize me, telling me I don't know anything about anything, telling me I don't live in the real B'More, know the real Baltimore. They would tell me that I think I know their city, and I take credit for it, without living through its trials and tribulations. But I'd like to think I can claim just as much allegiance to the city as a man on North Avenue or a woman on The Alameda could. A different allegiance, doubtless, but I love Baltimore nonetheless. And isn't that something to be appreciated and wondered at, rather than put down? The idea that so many different people can take pride in a concept or a person or a place, for many different reasons? I think it's cool, not stupid, that people want to be associated with Baltimore. 

     And as you can see, there is much to be proud of. Nothing excites me like even the most minor recognition of our city. Interviewing Elijah Cummings on CNBC makes me proud, for goodness sake! So, having said this, imagine how I'm feeling this week. The Baltimore Ravens are coming off a regular season that no one saw coming, and are prepared to take on the Steelers on Sunday, at 6:30 PM, Eastern. I am feeling great, like just about everyone else in "The City that REEDS." I BELIEVE. So even if they lose, knock on wood that they won't, I hope we can enjoy, at least for now, that once again people have realized that we have more to offer than heroin and death tallies. Because we do. 

     This season, the Ravens adapted a cheer first used by coach John Harbaugh's father, Jim. The inspiration for Jim's cheer originated during the weigh-in before boxing legend Muhammad Ali was to face-off with Ernie Terrell. Terrell, also a black fighter, refused to respect Ali's recent conversion to Islam, demonstrating a great level of intolerance, ironic coming from an African American in that time period. Terrell continued to call Ali by his birth name, Cassius Clay. Muhammad told him that if he would not call him by his proper name now, he would be doing so by the end of the night. Legend has it that Muhammad went on to win the match decisively,  and with each knock he demanded that Terrell submit to his simple request. "What's my name? WHAT'S MY NAME?" Soon enough, Terrell let out a faint "Ali." Faint, but discernable. Muhammad had earned the respect he deserved. The Ravens have since made it their mission to emulate this "What's our name?" chant, hoping to get the respect they deserve. Before every game, they pull together, join hands, and command attention, command respect. They're finally getting somewhere. 

     And we might learn a lesson from both Ali and Ray Lewis. It's about time that we join together, asking the nation, asking the world, "What's OUR name?" It's a simple answer. Baltimore.

Superstar, Where You From, How's It Going?

The 65th Golden Globes; my favorites (for the most part). 

The Best:

The Men of the Night:

Why, oh why? Blake Lively can wear anything. Anything, and look good. Except for this. So disappointing.

Bruce Springsteen is Having the Best Year Ever

     So that Eagles game was pretty great yesterday. I'm not a huge fan, but I love Donovan McNabb, because I feel like he's a class act, but he also gets trashed by the media and his diva teammates. Not to mention, every time the Eagles screw up, it's always Donovan's fault. Supposedly. For the most part, I could care less about the NFC, and the winner of this week's Steelers/ Ravens matchup is clearly going to win the Super Bowl. Yesterday, however, McNabb's comedic act far outshined Leno, Letterman, O'Brien, even, dare I say, Fey.

     He ran over to the Giants' bench, and picked up their players' phone, presumably connected to the opposing team's Defensive Coordinator or such, before flashing his pearly whites, slamming the receiver down, and taking his unsportsmanlike conduct penalty like a man. Bart Scott, Greatest Penalty Offender Ever (see last season's Patriots/ Ravens Monday Night Football Game), would be proud. It was almost as great as my boy Derrick Mason's incredible touchdown reception, or Ray Lewis elbowing that guy in the face, causing his mouthguard to fall out. 

     As soon as the game was over, we skipped the postgame (I don't like Fox's coverage anyways) and headed for Shannon Sharpe's expert analysis on the upcoming Steelers game. We watched that, and we're ready for round three. Apparently the mayor of Pittsburgh, Mr. Ravenstall or something is even changing his name to Steelerstall for the week. One witty Baltimorian called into 105.7, the sports station, and added that for Baltimore Mayor Sheila Dixon, such a name change would not be necessary, because... drumroll.. .. she already is a "stealer" (see indictment/ corruption charges). Oh politicians.. But Mayor Ravenstall is not the only one pumped up for this weekend. So is Baltimore; the entire downtown area, including city hall, is illuminated/ shrouded in purple (whichever verb floats your boat). Not gonna lie, it looks pretty nifty. 

     And after this, we once again skipped postgame coverage (somewhat more regrettably) and headed over to NBC for the Golden Globes. So we hit all of the major networks except for ABC, which I guess was the real loser last night. We missed most of the red carpet arrivals, but I've still picked a few of my favorites. Soon, we were inside. As soon as I realized Miley Cyrus was nominated for a Golden Globe, I found myself muttering some sort of countercurse in the hopes that this undeserving, nasal, twangy, preteen icon wouldn't win and join the ranks of film's greatest icons. But, not to fear. I could breathe a sigh of relief when not only did Miley lose, but Bruce Springsteen won! The Boss! So I thought I would tell you some reasons why Bruce Springsteen is having the best year ever.

     1. I am his newest, big fan.

     2. He is performing at the Super Bowl; where he will undoubtedly brush elbows with Michael Phelps, and the Baltimore Ravens.

     3. He has a new album due out soon that has already been pre-ordered like, a million times on iTunes

     4. He won a Golden Globe (as of last night)

     5. An entire episode of my favorite TV show, The Office, was centered around him/ rumors that Michael had tickets to his concert

     6. Everyone's favorite President-Elect (soon to discard the Elect) Barack Obama played Bruce's 'The Rising' during his appearance at the DNC as well as all subsequent appearances, including November 4th.

     Can anyone really have a better year? Tina Fey and Blake Lively also had pretty good ones, though. Clearly I was happy that Bruce won, although my second choice would have been the music from Wall-E, "Down to Earth." I really liked that one too. The movie was cute and had important social commentary, although I could have done for some dialogue. Oh, what would I give to be in a love story like that one, even if it were about robots? Fact: A lot. 

     I also really liked Tracy Morgan's shoutout to "post-racial" America. I love him so much, and that other girl's shoutout to the election was pretty cool too. Occasionally, we would flip over to FOX to see how the "24" premiere was going. Jack Bauer looked to be making some difficult decisions, and while the plot was unclear, I could tell that something dramatic was happening. So maybe this year is not so different from the last.. Also, I was a little uneasy about Colin Farrell's reference to withdrawl from drug addiction, and didn't see why it was necessary that Zac Efron be a presenter. Or the Jonas Brothers, for that matter. This is the Hollywood Foreign Press, not Disney Channel. I didn't get why that woman won for yet another "girl in love with a vampire" storyline.  I did really enjoy the writing though. And Tom Hanks is a beast. First he acts in amazing movies. Then he produces amazing miniseries; first Band of Brothers, now John Adams. Wow.

     My dad will not stop talking about the Ravens. He reads the articles, listens to each player's radio show, analyzes, and never fails to share his observations with us. But he mentioned he has a church dinner next week at the same time of the game, and if he choses to attend that, I will really have to question where his priorities are in life. I would like to say Santonio Holmes (10) is also really getting on my nerves. First he caught that "touchdown" back in December against the Ravens. Now he's making big runs in the playoffs. I'm a little scared. I have also been thinking that because the referees are just going to penalize us all day anyways, we might as well make the best of the situation. That means flipping Hines Ward upside down and making Ben Roethlisberger forget what his grandma looks like. If we're going to take the booking, we might as well make it worth the while. This weekend, I assure you, we will determine which defensive unit is actually the best in the National Football League. Also, I would like to wager 1,000,000 dollars that the unoriginal, uncreative, and uninventive Baltimore Sun will title Monday's headline, "Third Time's the Charm" or some such cliche, if the Ravens do pull it out. But don't take me up on that because if we're pleasantly surprised, I don't have that much money.

     In other sports news, I also happened to flip to the UNC/ Wake Forest basketball game and was shocked to see Wake nationally ranked at #4! I had no idea. 

     Consequentially, (or not so much, I will leave you with this thought; wouldn't it be nice to grow up one day and be one of those fat guys that has his buddies over for the game every Sunday? They appear to be financially stable, and they sit watching football all weekend, chowing down on the DiGiorno pizzas one of the guys ordered his wife to throw in the oven. It doesn't even matter that they're lazy and fat! I think that would be the ideal profession. I wonder how they achieve this level of dishevelment and passion, because I have to admit, it's quite alluring. 

Golden Globes

     In anticipation of tonight's Golden Globe Awards, and in thankfulness that they were not once again reduced to a press conference because of a writers' strike, we look back at some of my favorite red carpet gowns of the past, and reflect on a year of witty one-liners and suspenseful plot twists. Even if LOST's viewer ratings did more closely reflect the downward trends of our financial market, we were still graced with some excellent films and TV shows that kept us laughing, thinking, or on the edge of our seats the entire time.

Chance Meetings with Baltimore Sports Legends: We Must Protect This House! I WILL I WILL

     We may not be playing at home tomorrow, so we cant exactly protect M&T Bank Stadium, right? But we will win, and I will offer analysis. Further, Ed Reed doesn't just protect 'this house,' he does a darn fine job protecting the President of the United States. Maybe we should get him on a Secret Service detail. Maybe if President Palmer (24) had known about him, he would still be alive, and Jack Bauer's job would be a lot easier. But I'll take anything I can get, and if Reed can do more for our defense than Albert Haynesworth does to our offense, I'll be grateful.

     I had a star-struck moment, or whatever they're called today. I was walking to class and stopped dead in my tracks. There, in front of me, was the daughter of none other than Ray Lewis, the NFL's actual best linebacker, and the heart of the Baltimore Ravens. She looked strikingly like her dad, and although I have known for two years that she goes to the same school as me, I had never seen her until today. It must be a good omen. (This was better than the time I was running at my brother school and came across Cal Ripken Jr. That time, I was so awed that I said, blankly, "you're Cal Ripken." He had then proceeded to give me an exasperated look, like 'yeah, I think I know that,' and turn back to the baseball game he was watching.) 

     But this was so much better; almost as good as when I met Derrick Mason at his radio show two weeks ago, snapped a picture, got a couple of autographs, and offered him some advice and well-wishes. Also good was the time I met Kyle Harrison's parents at a Hopkins lacrosse game, or when Lenny Moore, the legendary Colts' runningback, who played in the '58 Championship Game, AKA The Greatest Game Ever Played, walked out of Miss Shirley's when we were waiting to be seated. Or perhaps getting a hug and autograph from Michael Phelps like seven hours before he was arrested in November of 2004. But we forgive him, and love him anyways. Bottom line: Baltimore sports legends exemplify Benjamin Franklin Rodriguez's statement, in The Sandlot: "Heroes get remembered, but legends never die." There's a reason that's my favorite movie. 

So sticking to the point, be amazed by Ed Reed's legendary talent, and prepare yourself for some more of it at 4:30 pm, Eastern tomorrow.

Moxley's Shuts Down in Towson; I'm Screaming

       Sadly, it turns out that 2008 is not the only thing getting kicked to the curb this January. Moxley's Ice Cream Parlor, the quintessential hometown, homemade, ice cream spot is on its way out this year. Opened in 1998 by Moxley, the yellow labrador retriever, and his "best friend," Tom, Moxley's fast became a household name in the North Baltimore/ Towson area, renowned for its charm and innovative flavors.

     The joint is pleasant and sunlit, featuring a full-service sundae/ scoop shop bar, complete with the tall stools, which provide endless entertainment for any kid, or perhaps the young at heart. Even though this shop opened its doors in the nineties, it had a distinctly classic, old America, feel. The ice cream is unmatched, in variety or quality, yet somehow, Moxley's was never too crowded. Not that there is such thing as a line too long for a scoop of Moxley's anyways. The charming storefront is enticing, and the ice cream doesn't fail to meet everybody's expectations.

     Disregarding the plethora of options, including monthly sundaes, floats, shakes, and smoothies, Moxley's flavor offerings alone cannot be beat. Almond Joy: Chocolate with coconut and almonds. The best banana ice cream you'll ever have. Banana chocolate chip. Blueberry with white chocolate chips. Butter Almond. Butter Pecan. Cardamon. Very Cherry Chunk, with two types of cherries. My favorite; Minty Mojo. Crushed Oreo, but with Mint! Triple Shot Espresso. Funky Monkey: Coconut with banana and chocolate chips. Another favorite, Ghost White Chip. Vanilla with white chocolate chips. Peppermint stick. Strawberry with white chocolate chips and fudge swirl. Pumpkin Pie. Coffee Mojo. Boring Chocolate Chip. Black Walnut. Butterscotch Vanilla. Candy Corn. Cantaloupe, Caramocha, Cherry Chocolate Chip. Vanilla with white, caramel & chocolate chips. Chocolate Covered Pretzel. Chocolate Peanut Butter Swirl, Coffee Almond Chip. Death By Chocolate; with brownies and fudge swirl. Cinnamon, Coffee Irish Cream, Egg Nog. Dulce de Leche. Ginger, Green Tea, Ice Cream Sandwich. Every type of sorbet. Sherbet. Minty Chocolate Chip. Peach, Peanut Butter Ripple, Pistachio. Hungry? Yeah, I thought so. I don't eat or crave anything unhealthy anymore; with one exception. I can never pass up homemade ice cream, especially Moxley's. That would be like blasphemy, or sacrilege, or something. And the names themselves are pretty creative and alluring.

     But, sadly, it appears that like everything else, this hotspot has succumbed to the uniform, impersonal, and cheap power of the super-chain. No, WalMart has not bought up Moxley's, but Lee's Ice Cream has, and that's close enough. They already have a spot about 2 1/2 miles south, why take over a place that is full of mid-summer memories and sentimental value? Here, we must observe what Moxley's was, and pay homage to its short-lived greatness. In just a decade, Moxley's became a legend for the ages, as far as eateries go. I'll miss the nights I spent with my dad and my chocolate moustache; watching the fireflies, ice cream running down my arm, and catching every last dribble and drop with my tongue. The Kicker? I never got to tell Food Network about Moxley's, so they could come check it out.

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