Fall, Glimmer, Sparkle and Fade

:: Wednesday, February 26, 2003 ::

Awards shows don't normally rub me the wrong way. Basically, because I don't feel as if they truly mean anything in the long run. The last time I cared about any awards show was last years Academy Awards when "In The Bedroom" was completely ignored, despite the fact that it should have one every category it was nominated in and some that it wasn't. I can't even remember the last time I cared about a music awards show.

This year was different. Finally a show had a purpose. And the Grammy's just fucked it up.

This was Bruce's year. The Boss was nominated for a slew of awards and was going to walk home with every single one he was nominated for and all the papers across the country would have a picture of him standing in the media room having trouble holding all of his brand new awards. Bruce helped to heal a nation when it needed it the most and he was finally going to get some official recognition. He was to be the guest of honor at the 'biggest' music awards show of the year. The powers that be scheduled him to perform not once, but TWICE. First, an amazing performance of 'The Rising' followed later in the evening as part of a tribute to The Clash with Dave Grohl, who is starting to turn into the next Springsteen. What a fitting tribute it would be to this great musician, storyteller and man. Then, as it is accustomed to doing, the Grammy's dropped the proverbial glass ball and it shattered all over the ground in front of a global television audience.

It has nothing to do with opinions or musical preferences, everyone sitting in Madison Square Garden along with the billions watching around the world knew what had to be done. The first broadcast award he was up for, the crowd in the Garden was chanting "Bruuuuuuuuuuce", because they knew he was going to win. He had to. It was his time to be recognized in the city he helped to emotionally mend. Hollywood could not have written a better story line. "..and the Grammy goes to...(as if they even needed to open the envelope).... Norah Jones?" The announcement of the 'winner' even sounded full of doubt. The presenters looked like someone had passed gas, but that no one was quite sure who. There they were, thinking to themselves: "Was this the right envelope? C'mon, there's no way we came out here to give an award to Norah Jones over Bruce Springsteen". Unfortunately that was the case. No typo. No misplaced envelope. Everyone in MSG was confused, but they were able to breathe a little easier because he was still going to bring home the rest of the awards he was nominated for. Of course, what were they thinking? Sure, he didn't win the first one he was nominated for, because I'm sure they wanted to at least try to spread around the awards early on. But no one should worry, because obviously the rest of the night would belong to The Boss.

Immediately following his performance of 'The Rising', they were presenting Song of the Year. Of course, this is why they waited so long to give Bruce his first televised Grammy, because now they already have him up on stage so they can kill two birds with one stone. What a great idea! The crowd is still buzzing from the performance and can't wait to give Bruce another standing ovation. Again, the "Bruuuuuuuuuce" chants start up except this time they're even louder. Seriously, should they even open the envelope when it's so clear who is going to win? Well, I suppose to make it 'official' they should read from the envelope. "... and the Grammy goes to... Norah Jones?" Okay, now everyone's realllllly confused. How does a woman that didn't even write the only song of hers that matters beat Bruce Springsteen? It seemed as if an appropriate song to play would have been The Ramones 'Beat on the Brat', except a SPECIAL Grammy version entitled 'Beat on the Boss'. If people in the world were sick of long award shows before this disaster, they're fucking done with them now.

Yes, I understand Bruce still went home with three Grammy awards. And I'm well aware that no matter how many awards they give Norah Jones, she's still going to be playing in airport lounges in two years. The Boss had earned a certain level of respect that the people at the Grammy's were unwilling to acknowledge. Sure, we'll give him awards but why should we actually let him be recognized on stage in front of the city that is so grateful for all he has done? Why should he be able to thank all those that made it possible for him to make that record in front of billions of people? Fuck him. He's on his way out, let's let this piano-playing Britney get the entire spotlight so our broadcast will seem 'hip' and 'cool'. Yea, that's what we should do. Because the kids love things that are 'hip' and 'cool'. And the 'hip' and 'cool' Norah Jones will be around much longer than someone the likes of Bruce Springsteen. Just ask Hanson and the Spice Girls.

:: Ryan 4:08 AM [+] ::
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I'm never completely sure just what I'm supposed to post on this site. Mainly because I don't think the day to day activities in my life would be all that exciting to any of you out there. I always have a good time, but I know from reading other people's blogs that 'good times' don't always turn into 'good blogs'. However...

I hit a pole Monday.

As you can imagine, it sort of killed the whole night. Things were going really well too: I don't have classes on Monday, which means sleeping until at least noon. Then an unusually short (20 min) meeting that would normally take a good hour or so right before a Quinnipiac basketball game, which to top the day off was the best of the season despite it being a loss. The damn snow couldn't just let me get back to my apartment and just enjoy my fine Monday. Nooooooooo, that would be too easy for the snow.

I take a back road to get to my apartment from school and in retrospect -- hindsight is 20/20 -- I should have taken the highway just because it would have been plowed/salted/etc, but it's a bit too late for that now. Anyway... I'm not even five minutes from school when I lose control of my back wheels. Now I grew up in the Northeast, so I know how to handle my car in the snow. So after I the back of the car starts floating to the left, I quickly readjust and my car is straight again. Problem averted. Right? Wrong. Sure, the car is straight but now all four wheels are gliding on ice under the snow. Even though the car is happily gliding along in a straight line, the road isn't being quite as cooperative because it's decided to have a turn to the left and it quickly became apparent to me this telephone pole coming up wasn't going to be moving anytime soon. I realized there wasn't anything I could do and just helplessly held the wheel while by baby green jeep got it's brains beat to shit by a telephone pole.

After I took a look around the car to make sure no one had been killed or hurt, I automatically thought my car was done. The sound it made when it came into contact with the pole would have brought tears to any Jeep owner's eyes. To be honest with you, before I stepped out of the car to take a look at the damage I thought it was all over. I thought I'd have to send my dearest Jeep off to the land of beautiful dead Jeeps. However, I was pleasantly surprised when I saw that the metal fender took most of the impact and the grill on the car wasn't even smashed. There wasn't any smoke, broken glass or anything of the sort. I let out a huge sigh of relief... well as big of a sigh you can let out after you drive straight into a pole.

Now I get to deal with paying for my baby to get fixed, which is going to end up being fairly expensive. I realize having to repair my car is much better than doctors having to repair my arms or legs, I really do. But my not being injured in the accident doesn't make me two grand richer. So if anyone wants to help out with the repair costs, I will welcome any and all donations. Please send checks or money orders, made out to Ryan Jones, to:

Ryan Jones
The Help Repair Ryan's Beautiful But Injured Green Jeep Fund
c/o WQAQ
275 Mount Carmel Ave.
Hamden, CT 06518

:: Ryan 3:11 AM [+] ::
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