All posts by Matthew Callan

Baseball

Frank McCourt Runs Into an Old Flame

Oh, hey Dodgers. Haven’t seen you in forever. Who woulda thought I’d run into you here in Chavez Ravine?…No, I can’t go in for a hug? Alright, a handshake is okay…Or a wave, sure, a wave is fine.

You look great. Really, I mean…wow.

Me? I couch surfed for a while after you kicked me out, stayed with my brother for a bit. Right now I’m rooming with my buddy Mark in Los Feliz. You remember him, right? He does the lighting for I Carly. No? You don’t remember him? He’s an awesome dude. You’d like him.

Yeah, been working out a bit. That’s why I’ve got this bike, trying to stay in shape. The binoculars? Bird watching. I like to bird watch when I, um…when I bike.

Finally working on that screenplay idea, too. Some stuff has really come together in my mind, just really gelled, you know?

God, it’s good to see you. We should get together some time, get some drinks or something. Hey, I know you must be busy since you’re running away, so I’ll leave my new digits with the bat boy, okay?

Pointless Nostalgia

Humiliation Theater and The Last Haircut

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I used to joke about going bald before it happened. I already was well aware of the scientifical fact that if your mother’s father was bald, chances are you would be, too. My grandfather lost his hair by his late 20s, so I figured it was only a matter of time for me (while also hoping my grandfather’s hair loss was hastened by three stressful years in the Pacific during World War II). In high school, I began to grow my hair out, thinking I should do so while I still could. And when I say out, I do mean out. My hair did not grow down no matter how long I left it uncut. It grew sideways, like a mushroom cloud.

Early in my freshman year of college, I visited my cousin Staten Island. He was still in high school, and we went out and did the normal kind of weekend things that I was too uptight/immobile to do when I was in high school. At the moment, it felt like practice for all the things I should be doing in college. Relaxing. Not thinking. Having fun.

The Sunday I was set to go back to NYU, my uncle found an old Polaroid camera. Use it up before I throw it out, he commanded, so we did, taking dumb pictures of each other doing goofy stuff. The photos never developed. Everything was cast a muddy greenish-gray.

I stuffed a few in my backpack to take back to my dorm. On the bus trip back, I pulled a book out to read and noticed it had weird goop on the back cover, whitish, like dried Elmer’s glue. I looked in my bag and saw the culprits were the Polaroids. The dying film stock was leaking. I took one of the photos out to see how bad the damage was inside my bag, but I forgot to keep inspecting when I got a closer look at the picture. Something about my hairline didn’t look quite right. My part seemed higher up, like someone had grabbed me by the back of the head yanked my scalp back as far as it would go. It took this weird, half-formed Polaroid to show that I was already starting to lose my hair.

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Sports, The Worldwide Leader, Videocracy

No Brain, No Pain: Chili Pepper Division

This weekend, my brother reminded me of this gem from a college football game broadcast on ESPN in 2007. I remember watching this live and nearly choking to death from laughter. Fun!

In this clip, sideline reporter Rob Stone visits the Chili Pepper Institute at New Mexico State. While there, he tries to act all tough in the face of some the most tongue searing substances in the world. The head of the institute hands him a tiny pepper, which Stone does not treat with the proper respect.

PROFESSOR: This is the Bhut Jolokia, the world’s hottest chili pepper.

STONE: [crunch]

PROFESSOR: A million Scoville units.

STONE: What is that?

The timing and cluelessness displayed here is amazing. This man knows he’s at the Chili Pepper Institute. He is well aware that chili peppers are hot. And yet, he immediately chows down on something without any idea how spicy it might be. Better yet, when told exactly how spicy it is, he continues to act with misplaced bravado and ignorance. “What is that?”

Shortly after taking a huge bite of THE HOTTEST THING IN THE WORLD, Stone starts to experience some serious distress. The professor hands him some milk, but it does him no good. “I’m not even feeling it,” he says, as his brow rapidly moistens with sweat. The professor doesn’t help Stone’s state when he informs him that the effects may last five to six hours.

Watching this video again for the first time in years, I suspect this whole scene may be somewhat staged. However, I also suspect that Stone was told by his producers to take a big bite out of the hottest pepper known to man without any clear idea of just how hot it would be. In either case, it led to pure televisual hilarity.