I'm a big fan of a Canadian band called Sloan, and I don't know anybody else who is. The thing is, they're huge in Canada and pretty big in some cities in the northeast US, but no one's really heard of them here. My wife thinks they're ok, but after going to a show that they had in L.A. with me (they come once every couple years), she's vowed never to return. Chris from the band bugged her so much with his constant mugging and what I guess he thinks is showmanship that both of us spent the majority of the concert trying to ignore him. Not a good sign. All four band members write and sing songs on the albums, but the one with the most songs is Chris, so he was in the forefront quite often. I really like their music though (and have all 9 of their studio cds, their live double disc set, and a single cd with some great B sides), so when they come to town again, I'll be there...I just might be alone.
Anyway, I was craving some older Sloan over the past few days and have been going through the cds on my commute home. This morning, I chose one and popped it in for the 40 minute commute. Lo and behold, a song called "I Can Feel It" came on and I smiled widely because I remembered a certain lyric was coming up: "Happy birthday to the best brother in the world." Today is, in fact, my brother Kevin's birthday and I get to see him for lunch. This might not seem like the biggest coincidence in the world, but there were several factors at play. First, I chose the cd with that song on it. Second, the KROQ show I listen to every morning was doing an interview with Radiohead that I didn't feel like listening to, which prompted the rare a.m. cd-listening. Lastly, the half hour span that the cd was on happened to cover that song. So everything lined up just right for me to hear the most pertinent line for December 20th in my entire music collection.
Oh yeah, and it's my friend Jon's birthday too. Happy birthday, dude.
Back to being angry: Just before I got home from Vegas, my mom called me to tell about the Sunday crossword in West Magazine of the LA Times. Each Sunday, I take stabs at the one in the regular part of the paper and the one in that magazine. They're always clever and make me say aloud, "Man I hate those bastards" in a very admiring way. Kinda like how Wes Mantooth feels about Ron Burgundy. Anyway, my mom called to say that this particular puzzle was about...auto-followers. They call them "cliché combos" or "idiomatic married couples", but they're the same thing. In fact, the example they give is this:
"For example, a woman with very little on is never 'minimally clad' or 'skimpily clad' or 'barely clad,' but always 'scantily clad.'"
That's right, they used my number one example of a Class 1 AF as their example. Son a bitch stole my line. I've only had a few minutes to look at the puzzle so far, and I've only found one of the eleven special clues so far. It's pretty good though: "breakneck." Yeah, that's a Class 1 alright, and it pisses me off. I'm very, very tempted to look at the answers so I can start critiquing the "cliché combos," but I have to try to get more on my own first. I'm having a hard time, because "Belgian violinist Eugene" doesn't really help me fill in the boxes.
So this pisses me off on two levels. One, this was my thing. Two, since it's my thing, I should be better at getting the answers. Stupid puzzle makers. What's next, a puzzle on the power of Ralph and FB2K4? I'm watching you, West Magazine. With my furrowed brow.
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