There were two stand-out “sounds” that really rose to the forefront of some of the music I loved this year: female vocalists (Bird of Youth, Little Scream, Widowspeak) and low-fi, fuzzed-out power pop (Cloud Nothings, Total Babes). Of course, my pick for Album of the Year doesn’t fall into either of those categories, so there’s that. As has become my custom in recent years, I’ve given up on the whole Top 20 Albums of the Year thing, and instead I’ve given over to a few random awards here and there. So, without further adieu, here’s a look back at the music that meant something to me in 2011…

The Album Cover of the Year:

Fucked Up – David Comes to Life

The Best Vocal Moments of the Year:

Bill Callahan – “Drover” (Just go to right around the 1:10 mark, as heard below, and then, at 1:18, you’ll hear my moment of the year, which isn’t really even a lyric, but a noise made by by Callahan.)
The Mountain Goats – “High Hawk Season” (Listen from 2:21 to 2:36, as heard below. Check out the a cappella call-and-response between John Darnielle and his “chorus.”)

The Song I Heard Once and New Immediately It Would Be On My Year-End List:

Wild Flag – “Future Crimes” (heard below)

The Five Most Overrated Records (In Alphabetical Order) Based On the Critics’ Picks:

Atlas Sound – Parallax
Bon Iver – Bon Iver
Florence + The Machine – Ceremonials
Girls– Father, Son, Holy Ghost
Radiohead – The King of Limbs

The Three Videos of the Year:

Battles – “Ice Cream“
Mister Heavenly – “Bronx Sniper“
The New Pornographers – “Moves” (Note: the song is from 2010; the video is from 2011)

The Five Best Records That Weren’t In My Top Five and All Tied For Sixth Place:

6. Cloud Nothings – Cloud Nothings
6. Tapes ‘n Tapes – Outside
6. Wu Lyf – Go Tell Fire to the Mountain
6. Wye Oak – Civillian
6. Yuck – Yuck

The Top Five Records of 2011:

5. Dan Mangan – Oh Fortune
4. Hospital Ships – Lonely Twin
3. An Horse – Walls
2. Gold-Bears – Are You Falling In Love?
1. Fucked Up - David Comes to Life

I forced myself to make two (and only two) CDs worth of music this year, which was unbelievably tough. As I do every year, I began putting 2011 music aside on January 1, 2011. And while I’m unsure as to how many records I actually downloaded and listened to this past year, I had a list of, oh, 157 songs for my Best of 2011 consideration. To put it another way, that’s more than six CDs’ worth of music — six CDs’ worth of the year’s best music. So, yeah, paring it down to only 47 tracks was, to say the least, difficult. Granted, it always is, and the fact that I still bitch about this aspect of mix-making on a yearly basis is astounding.

I just wanted to include a couple notes on the selections below. First, I wanted to thank my pal Waking Up With Robots (@Waking_Robots) in California for introducing me to the Ohio-based band Herzog (and for sending me various CDs throghout the year). (Sadly, I couldn’t find a link to the Herzog track on my mix. Figures.) Second, as far as the tracks below go, I linked to some live/alternate versions of the song that actually appears on the mix, either because I couldn’t find the studio version or simply really enjoyed the live performance. This, as you’ll see, is the case for songs like Dan Mangan’s “Oh Fortune” and Wild Flag’s “Future Crimes,” to name a couple. Finally, as mentioned above, I still can’t believe how many unbelievable songs I had to omit based solely on space. What a gyp!

By the way, as I started doing last year, you can access the mixes in their entirey over at Mediafire. I’ve included the links below.

With that, I give you the 47 songs that comprise my 2011 mixes…

Sturm front cover.

Sturm interior artwork.

Drang front cover.

Drang interior artwork.

Sturm (The Best “Slow” Tracks of 2011):

1. Bill Callahan – “Drover” (Apocalypse)
2. Dan Mangan – “Oh Fortune” (Oh Fortune)
3. Hello Echo – “Intently” (Hello)
4. Beirut – “Goshen” (The Rip Tide)
5. The Antlers – “Putting the Dog to Sleep” (Burst Apart)
6. The Mountain Goats – “High Hawk Season” (All Eternals Deck)
7. An Horse – “Know This, We’ve Noticed” (Walls)
8. Bird of Youth – “The Great Defender” (Defender)
9. La Sera – “You’re Going to Cry” (La Sera)
10. Tennis – “Take Me Somewhere” (Cape Dory)
11. The Sandwitches – “Lightfoot” (Mrs. Jones’ Cookies)
12. Times New Viking – “No Room to Live” (Dancer Equired)
13. Crystal Stilts – “Silver Sun” (In Love With Oblivion)
14. Pete and the Pirates – “Can’t Fish” (One Thousand Pictures)
15. Hospital Ships – “Old Skin” (Lonely Twin)
16. Male Bonding – “The Saddle” (Endless Now)
17. Nat Baldwin – “The Same Thing” (People Changes)
18. Tapes ‘n Tapes – “People You Know” (Outside)
19. Wu Lyf – “Such a Sad Puppy Dog” (Go Tell Fire to the Mountain)
20. Gold-Bears – “Yeah, Tonight” (Are You Falling In Love?)
21. Explosions In the Sky – “Postcard from 1952” (Take Care, Take Care, Take Care)

Drang (The Best “Fast” Tracks of 2011):

1. Collections of Colonies of Bees – “Lawn” (GIVING)
2. tUnE-YarDs – “Bizness” (w h o k i l l)
3. Gold-Bears – “Totally Called It” (Are You Falling In Love?)
4. Surfer Blood – “Miranda” (Tarot Classics EP)
5. Let’s Wrestle – “Dear John” (Nursing Home)
6. Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks – “Forever 28” (Mirror Traffic)
7. Real Estate – “It’s Real” (Days)
8. Herzog – “Rich People Ballad” (Cartoon Violence)
9. Fucked Up – “Life In Paper” (David Comes to Life)
10. The Beets – “Now I Live” (Let the Poison Out)
11. Cloud Nothings – “Not Important” (Cloud Nothings)
12. Peter Bjorn and John – “Breaker Breaker” (Gimme Some)
13. Total Babes – “Like They Always Do” (Swimming Through Sunlight)
14. Robert Pollard – “You Sold Me Quickly” (Lord of the Birdcage)
15. Wild Flag – “Future Crimes” (Wild Flag)
16. Vivian Girls – “Lake House” (Share the Joy)
17. An Horse – “Trains and Tracks” (Walls)
18. Widowspeak – “Fir Coat” (Widowspeak)
19. Yuck – “Georgia” (Yuck)
20. Eleanor Friedberger – “I Won’t Fall Apart On You Tonight” (Last Summer)
21. The Rurarl Alberta Advantage – “Stamp” – (Departing)
22. Hello Echo – “Animals” (Hello)
23. Wye Oak – “Civillian” (Civillian)
24. Fleet Foxes – “Battery Kinzie” (Helplessness Blues)
25. Tapes ‘n Tapes – “SWM” (Outside)
26. Hospital Ships – “Reprise” (Lonely Twin)

Well, folks, that’ll do it for 2011. A shit-ton of work, as always, went into this year’s edition. Now, then, I encourage – nay, demand – you to do four things:

1. In the comments section, let me know your picks for the best songs, records, and anything else music of 2011. What did I miss? What do you violently disagree with? What are you wholeheartedly in agreement with?
2. Should you choose to (or if you have already) put together a Best of 2011 disc of your own, by all means send me a copy of the disc, or at the very least a track listing. I’ll do my best to post them on my blog.
3. Go here to access Sturm and Drang via Mediafire. [UPDATE: Sorry, folks, but the original links I provided were screwed up. These are in good working order now!]
4. You’ve got Twitter, Facebook, and a thousand other social media outlets at your disposal. Share this with the world, even if you only have two Twitter followers (and one of them is me).

Until the Best of 2012, have at it, you vultures!

BD

Now, then, I hate the idea of a Bucket List. I hate the idea of that goddamn movie, too. But, yeah, having nomenclature for the things one must do before he dies is absurd. Here’s a thought: stop thinking about this insane list of life goals and just start doing shit.

I suppose that’s somewhat disingenuous, in that I, too, have places I’d love to visit one day (Vietnam, Singapore, Portugal) and things I’d love to do (catch a 500-pound tuna, for instance). All the same, I won’t consider my life a failure if I do not, in fact, do those things. (My life’s already a failure.)

With that, today’s poem, also written a few months ago, sort of describes my anti-Bucket List mindset, but applies it more to poetry. That is, to my poetry, or lack thereof. I started thinking about all the poems I’ve written that have gone unfinished, wondering if and when I’d ever return to them — wondering if it was worth returning them. In a way, the things we fail to complete but keep around all the same are a sort of albatross around our collective necks. I guess, then, the great irony of the poem is that it is, in fact, completed.

Before I die

there are not a million things to do
as most people would have you believe.
I’d wager 200, maybe 250 tops.
No way we all of us are foolishly
keen on hiking the Appalachian Trail, or
really seeing just how miniscule the Mona Lisa,
or secretly etching our initials
into the Great Wall of China
like some kind of clandestine operation
circa the first World War. Nah.
That’s all the stuff of bad movies and,
worse, bad imagination. Because, really,
when tasked with doing anything
outside my usual orbit, it is, in fact,
work. It is the promise of stress
and exhaustion. It is the extra cup
of burnt coffee after midnight
to knock out that last hour of cramming,
that bonus problem set, that one more crack
at writing and rewriting the stanza
that will never see its way out
from my hard drive, that will sidle up
to the other unfinished docs
in my graveyard of parboiled work,
and it, too, will be dated and named “Poem,”
and it, along with the others, will be
forever burned onto my flittering screen
like a ghost begging for exorcism.

BD

Yeah, I know. It’s been a while. Kind’ve been tied up doing other “important” things (like this and this). Okay, so maybe “important” is a poor word choice.

In all fairness, though, I started a new full-time job in August and returned to teaching in September. My old job allowed me to waste my time on the Internet all day, thus giving me the opportunity to write blogs like this one. (I suppose “allowed me” is not quite the right choice of words, though, considering my Internet usage is the very reason I’m no longer with my old company.)

One of the best things to happen during the last few months is that I’ve somehow returned to writing. Not grant writing, not spewing bullshit, not the usual hate. No, I’ve actually returned to poetry. The need — the desire — to write has come back to me, and I couldn’t be happier about it. Sometimes a writer has to live like a farmer, in that the farmer plants seeds but doesn’t always know if and when his crop will come up. It’s like that with writing, at least for me, in that I don’t always know when the poems will speak to me, and I sure as hell don’t know what they’ll say. All I can do is hope for a good crop.

If I had to point to people in particular who have prompted my return to writing, it’s easy: Bruce Weigl and Brian Turner. I’ve written about Bruce previously, and he continues to be my mentor as far as poets go. It’s weird, really, but I know I can always go back to his work and rediscover not only his voice, but my own. (Incidentally, Weigl is reading in Pittsburgh this coming February, and we actually have plans to meet up and, with any luck, bullshit over beers. So, yeah, to say I’m giddy to meet one of my heroes is an understatement.) Brian Turner, like Bruce, is a poet who emerged from the war, only from a different generation. Turner spent a year in Iraq, which birthed his first published collection, Here, Bullet. It’s an amazing, heartbreaking collection that gives a very different and much-needed perspective on the Iraqi people. His latest book, Phantom Noise, is a continuation on the theme, but contains more work from here, after his time in Iraq. I can’t urge you enough to check out their 2008 co-reading as recipients of awards from the Lannan Foundation.

With that, I’m intending to post some poems in the “Versus” series over the next few weeks or so, beginning with “Not Breathing.” I actually wrote this one back in August, and outside of my girlfriend it hasn’t been read by anyone. I’m sure it could use some work, as all of these new poems could. All the same, thanks for reading.

Not Breathing

Anymore, I cry
for no reason, do
that quick succession
of breathing
where I am, in fact,
not breathing. Suffocating,
maybe. Choking, perhaps,
on a wishbone
of connective tissue –
Panic and Terror joined
at the ligament, limiting
my exhaust to a staccato.

These moments to myself
are the usual ghosts
hovering, not as transparencies,
but as dense, white sheets
ready to snuff out
whatever capsule of breath
might still beat inside me.
In these moments
I am dying a little bit
each time I’m left
with even a second
of silence, left to wonder,
to wander, to not understand.
And here, now, that’s all there is:
the not understanding,
which, I have to hope,
is part of understanding.

BD

Event 5: Football

Rules:

• Two halves (15 minutes and 15 minutes, respectively);
• No “Losers Walk”; team who loses coin-toss defends side of field of its choosing;
• Kicking team in 1st half is receiving team in 2nd half
• Only 1 first-down possibility per drive (located at mid-field);
• Only 1 blitz per set of downs;
• Defense can “blitz” after “5 Mississippi” count;
• Quarterback can’t run with the ball unless rushed/blitzed;
• Touchdowns worth 1 point;
• No field goals, no extra points; and
• If overtime is needed, no sudden death scoring; both teams play till one team scores touchdown and second team fails to answer.

Through the first two years of Brolympics, Josh and I were unbeaten in football. We decided beforehand that this, along with basketball, were surefire wins for us. That is, we knew we could and must take them both. Starting Saturday morning with a 3-1 lead once again removed some of the pressure, but we wanted these events all the same.

So, having slept less than five hours on a couch, I made my way to the football field with the rest of the guys. It was already hot as hell outside and it wasn’t even 11 AM. Still, we pushed forward. If nothing else, at least I knew we all of us felt pretty terrible, so there was no clear advantage (other than our height, I suppose).

Maybe the best part of the game was Matt calling the coin flip. He called “Tails” and the coin, of course, came up Heads. Mitch chastised Matt, and promptly asked, “Who calls ‘Tails’?” Couldn’t agree more, Mitch. Couldn’t agree more. We, of course, chose to receive the kick-off.

In the 2010 Brolympics, Josh and I had a pretty decisive victory. This year things were different. During the course of the first half, I caught a TD pass from Josh, and Josh ran in an interception for a touchdown. Conversely, Mitch made two TD catches on nearly identical plays, in that he slid into the left pylon and scraped the shit out of his leg. In all fairness, what would Brolympics football be without an injury to Mitch? We went to halftime tied 2-2.

At one point, bugs were crawling on the open wound. Ugh!

Scoring was limited in the second half, with each team scoring only once. I scored on a long crossing pattern, whereas Matt scored on a bomb thrown by Mitch. That was it; that was the extent of the second half scoring. And with that, we went to overtime.

We scored first in overtime on a rather controversial play. I pitched the ball to Josh on an end-around, and during his run Josh spun, allegedly blocked his flag and scored. Mitch challenged the call, as he claimed Josh intentionally blocked his flag. The way we explained it, though, was that his hand naturally went to his side in the spinning motion, and there was no intent. As a counselor, Josh made the point that he stresses this to his kids every time they play flag football. That is, he makes sure they understand that flag-blocking is illegal. So, after about 10 minutes of discussion, the play was allowed and the touchdown stood.

Mitch and Matt now had to score in order to keep the game going. Josh played defense whereas I stayed on Mitch, trying to keep him in the pocket and hopefully obstruct his view. Mitch threw not one, but two balls into the end zone. Josh apparently got a finger on both, and in both cases M & M came up empty. With that, Josh and I took down yet another event, preserving a football victory for the third straight year.

Look! Josh sweat Donnie Darko again!

M & M enacting what we were currently doing to them.

Football Final Score: J & B defeat M & M, 4-3
Event MVP: Josh
Overall Score: J & B lead M & M, 4-1

Event 6: Basketball

Rules:

• Two-on-two;
• No “make it, take it”;
• Half-court game, with ball taken out at the top of the key
• 1-point shots inside the arc; 2-point shots outside the arc;
• Must win by 2; and
• One game played to 21.

Basketball was something we all played as kids, though I can’t say any of us were ever any good. Again, I’d have to think Josh was the most “gifted,” but maybe I’m thinking that based solely on height. In any event, we thought it would be fun to introduce basketball into the mix in lieu of shuffleboard (and thank God for that). Apparently, Josh had been practicing quite a bit at camp, which was obviously a huge advantage for us. Me? I hadn’t played basketball since that day in Pittsburgh a few years back when I watched nearly every shot of mine get swatted away into the Allegheny. If anything, I told Josh I’d focus on passing and defense, and that’s exactly what I did.

During the course of the game, we realized we’re all old, white and fat. Playing to 21 seemed unnecessary and downright cruel, seeing as how there may have been one basket made in the first five minutes of play. With that, we opted to play a game to 15. Honestly, though, 15 or 21, it wouldn’t have made a difference.

We slaughtered them. Josh absolutely dominated the game. That’s that. To celebrate our fifth victory, Matt suggested we high-five one another, and he’d capture it using the “Sports” setting on his camera. So, first you’ll see the picture of the losing team, followed by our “flip-book” high five.

After several failed attempts by Matt, Mitch pulled off the ball twirl.

Basketball Final Score: J & B defeat M & M, 15-3
Event MVP: Josh
Overall Score: J & B lead M & M, 5-1

Event 7: Home Run Derby

Rules:

• 9 innings;
• Each batter gets 3 outs per inning; each team gets 6 outs per inning;
• 3 strikes equal 1 out. Foul ball on strike 3 is an out (which we forgot to implement this year);
• Ball is foul (a strike) if it doesn’t roll forward after contact;
• Balls over the fence are home runs;
• Balls may not be caught for outs; and
• Teammates pitch to one another.

Home Run Derby continues to elude me and Josh. For some reason, we can never quite get any momentum going. (Well, in year one, Josh didn’t homer, so that’s a great way to kill momentum, I suppose.) Last year there was a record number of home runs hit, but we still came up short. This year, up 5-1, we were feeling pretty damn confident, knowing we needed only this event to win Brolympics III. Well, it wasn’t meant to be.

Mitch hit four home runs in the first inning, which was the most hit in any one inning. Incredibly, we never had to change balls this year, as a single ball lasted the entire event. We played in the same spot as last year, so there were no real adjustments to be made. I, for one, was having problems with fatigue. Between my hangover, lack of sleep, lack of food and heat, I was gassed. Just swinging the stinking bat was getting to be too much. Still, I managed to hit eight home runs, so not a terrible showing all the same.

We got the score as close as 12-11, but in the end we succumbed to M & M’s dominance in this event, as we once again fell by a score of 17-12. Stupid Home Run Derby.

Celebratory shot of the three-time champs.

Harumph.

Home Run Derby Final Score: M & M defeat J & B, 17-12
Event MVP: Mitch
Overall Score: J & B lead M & M, 5-2

Event 8: Cornhole

Rules:

• Best 3 games out of 5;
• Games played to 21;
• “Skunk” in effect (meaning 11-0 wins the game); and
• Must win game by 2 points.

We went back to Matt’s house, Josh and I swearing we wouldn’t let the Derby get us down. We knew that we could take Cornhole, in which we were 2-0, and wrap this damn thing up. Matt got new boards and bags recently, and they were slick as all hell. What’s more, they had so much bounce to them that a heavy, flat-tossed bag just wasn’t gonna’ hold. Well, Josh found that out the hard way.

Josh and Matt stood at one end while Mitch and I stood at the other. Mitch and Matt adjusted pretty quickly, as did I. We knew that in order to hold the board, you’d either have to spin the bag on your throw or toss it with such a high arc that it had no choice but to fall straight down without a forward bounce. Josh, sadly, just didn’t grasp it. It was as though he’d never played before. And even though it sounds like I’m ripping him, he’s well aware of the fact that he played like a dog.

We dropped the first game 23-8. Now, if you don’t know what a “skunk” means, it’s when one team shuts out the other team and plays a shortened game. So, if one team reaches 11 points in Cornhole before the other team scores a single point, game over. Well, they not only skunked us in game 2, but did so by a humiliating count of 17-0. It was outrageous. Game 3 wasn’t much better. We dropped that one 28-13. Again, do you see that in every game their score was beyond the required 21 points? That’s because on their final toss, respectively, they racked up so many freaking points that they exceeded the necessary points to win. So, they scored 68 points between the two of them, whereas we scored a mere 21. Of those 21 points, Josh scored 0. Nothing. Nada. Zilch. Not one fucking point! Shameful.

Slightly pissed off.

Rightfully pissed off.

Cornhole Final Score: M & M defeat J & B, 3-0
Event MVP: Tie, Mitch & Matt
Overall Score: J & B lead M & M, 5-3

Event 9: Bocce

Rules:

• Team play (red balls vs. green balls);
• One game played to 25;
• Any part of the field is “in bounds”; and
• Must win by 2.

After losing two straight events, Josh and I were suddenly panicked. We realized there were only three events to play, and one win would give us the overall victory. What’s more, we knew one of those events was Darts, which would be an automatic win for M & M since I’m goddamn awful. We agreed as a whole that Miniature Golf would be the final event, as daylight was at a minimum and we could play at night under the lights. Additionally, we could play darts in the basement at any time. Still, they gave us the option: Darts or Bocce.

Josh and I thought about it and decided on Bocce. After all, why allow them to win a third straight event with two to go when we could simply end it here? So, it was back to the park where we played Tennis, Football, Basketball and Home Run Derby. Bocce didn’t come into play in year two, and there was even talk of removing it for year three. I, for one, voted to keep it, as Bocce has been a Thanksgiving standard for the past decade. And thank God we did.

Josh and I jumped out to a ridiculous lead. At one point, I think we got it to 14-1 or something closely out of whack. Every time they’d get a ball inside of ours, one of us would either manage to move the pallino closer to one of our balls, or simply get inside their tosses. Regardless, we destroyed them. We tried to stifle our excitement, but every time we got a point closer to 25, I felt like we were a point further back. It didn’t matter, though. In the end, we prevailed, destroying them 25-8. (I think they had 8. After a while, it became irrelevant.)

At long last, and after a whole year of self-loathing, Josh and I finally took our first Brolympics! Through three years, the overall record now stands at 1-1-1. Honestly, I wonder if we’ll ever again need all 11 events…?

Champions!

Not the champions.

Bocce Final Score: J & B defeat M & M, 25-8
Event MVP: Tie, Josh & Brandon
Overall Score: J & B defeat M & M, 6-3

Well, that’ll do it for the 3rd Annual Brolympics. Thanks a shit-ton for joining me. Kudos to Mitch, Matt and Josh for all their hard work. Now, next year we’re going to implement team colors, meaning from this point forward both teams will have a set color pattern. Also, do any of you have suggestions for other events we could substitute? We’re already talking about adding Chip & Putt next year to replace Miniature Golf. Trivial Pursuit? Eating competition? Thoughts?

Until next year, have at it, you vultures!

BD

Team Josh & Brandon’s 2011 t-shirt, back.

On Friday, July 15 and Saturday, July 16, myself, my brother, Mitch, and our cousins, Matt and Josh, took part in the 3rd Annual Brolympics. This year, we made only one significant change:

1. We added Basketball and removed Shuffleboard.

Like last year, the 2011 Brolympics took place in Havertown, outside of Philly. This year’s Brolympics consisted of 11 events, which took place in the following order (keep in mind, this was not the original order; changes were made during the actual Brolympics):

1. Tennis
2. Bowling
3. Pool
4. Beirut (Beer Pong)
5. Football
6. Basketball
7. Home Run Derby
8. Cornhole
9. Bocce
10. Darts
11. Miniature Golf

As a refresher, the images work like this: to capture the results of each event, we documented them with a photograph. The winning teammates for each event held their fingers up, while the losers kept their hands roughly waist-high. So, if the score was 3 to 1 following four events, for instance, the team with three wins would hold three fingers high, while the team with one would hold one finger waist-high.

With that, here’s how it all played out, beginning with…

Event 1: Tennis

Rules:

• Doubles (obviously);
• Best 2 out of 3 sets; and
• No third set tiebreaker.

We got started rather late this year. In fact, I’m thinking it was somewhere around 5:00 till we actually began. We kicked things off on the very same courts where Josh and I were handed our second straight tennis defeat. And even though I’d been playing a fair amount of tennis this summer, Mitch had been playing a lot, thus worrying me from the get-go. Still, after watching Josh hit some forehands, I was under the impression he’d been practicing, and I wasn’t quite so worried. I thought.

The grueling first set went on-and-on, back-and-forth. After the first two service games, I don’t think anyone held serve for the next seven or eight games. It was sort of pathetic. What’s more, I asked if everyone was as nervous as I was, thus forcing everyone to play tentatively? Matt said no, but the rest of us were somehow terrified, as if every point was the last. It was strange, considering this was only the first event. Still, there was no shaking our opponents’ unbeaten streak, and because of that I put entirely too much pressure on ourselves. And despite that, Josh and I, at long last, took the opening set — our first set in Brolympics history — 7-5.

Knowing we only needed to take one of the next two sets, we must have let up a bit. I told Josh at the start of set 2 to play as though we hadn’t won, and that we absolutely did not want to go to a third set. Well, we went to a third set after losing the second one, 6-2. Hell, we were demolished in that second set. I couldn’t seem to return Matt’s serve, as I struggle hitting the ball when there’s no pace on it. I was getting entirely too mental about everything. At last, Josh told me to quit thinking and “just swing,” a la Joaquin’s “Swing away” speech in Signs, I suppose.

The pep talk helped. We went up a break in the third set, but they got things back on serve. In fact, if I’m not mistaken, they even took a 6-5 lead. We had agreed beforehand, though, that we would not play a third set tiebreaker. With light fading, sweltering heat, and the knowledge that this was still only the first event, Josh and I dug deep, tied up the third set, and finally — finally — won our very first tennis match in Brolympics history, taking the third set 9-7. If that didn’t set the pace for us, nothing would.

An exhausted Josh (right) and Brandon celebrate our first Tennis victory.

Mitch (left) and Matt suffering the bitter taste of defeat.

Tennis Final Score: J & B defeat M & M, 7-5, 2-6, 9-7
Event MVP: Josh
Overall Score: J & B lead M & M, 1-0

Event 2: Bowling

Rules:

• Each player bowls three games; and
• Total combined scores win.

We never got around to bowling in year 2, as, if you recall, Mitch’s football injury forced us to move the order of events around. Probably a good thing for them, as Josh and I proved victorious year one in bowling. We went to a local alley in Havertown Wynnewood, and I was immediately floored by both the number of teenagers present, as well as the crazy-ass hair on the guy behind the counter. It was as though he had a combover despite not being bald. (How does one manage such a thing?) We got our shoes, paid for three games each and scavenged for balls among the frankly shitty stack scattered about the lanes.

We arrived pre-Rock ‘N Bowl, but Combover assured us he’d be kicking out the “fat jams” before too long. Swell. Now, unlike tennis, bowling is conducive to drinking, so we naturally got at it in a hurry. For some reason, this shit bowling alley had Hoegaarden bottles, so we had at them in a big way. Sadly, none of us were able to find a ball that properly fit our hands, but so be it. At least we were equally disadvantaged.

Brothers Matt and Josh come together before ripping each other’s throats out. Literally!

I don’t know that anyone had a huge advantage in bowling, although Matt bowled in a league. We all bowled as kids, and these days my brother and I are there only if it’s a kid’s birthday party or something along those lines. Still, bowling is something I’m fairly comfortable with, as it’s pretty much aim and muscle memory. You roll a ball or two and it becomes fairly consistent in practice. I was using an all-too heavy ball, and while it kept me from getting much pace on the ball, it obliterated the pins all the same due to its massive weight. The other thing I noticed was the variety of bowling styles. You had Matt, who had a weird, claw-like release, as seen here:

Then there’s Josh, with his outstretched left arm:

And while Mitch looks like he’s about to sit down, he actually heaves the ball down the lane with ridiculous speed:

And then there’s me, with my weird-ass right leg kick. But what flair!

Josh and I took the first game, rolling a combined 304 to their 294. A 10-pin lead wasn’t much, but it was a lead all the same. We also took the second game, rolling a combined 264 to their 235. Game three? Well, it was more of the same, as Josh and I took it down, 268-260, giving us a combined score of 836-789. And, just like that, Josh and I took an early 2-0 lead. (I say early, but it was already 10:30 or so, and we’d only played two events. Ugh.)

Yes, that’s beer. Yes, we’re getting drunk.

One of the great features of the run-down alley was the old-school scoring monitor. Each game had its own color. Game 1 was blue, game 2 was red and game 3 was black. The graphics were as low-end as you could get, and yet that’s what made it pretty damn cool. Nice job, old school alley.

The old-timey scoreboard.

The victors (and the non-victors).

Bowling Final Score: J & B defeat M & M, 836-739
Event MVP: Tie, Josh & Brandon
Overall Score: J & B lead M & M, 2-0

Event 3: Pool

Rules:

• Race to 5 (first team to 5 games wins);
• 8-Ball (must call pockets); and
• Scratch on the 8-Ball is a loss only if cue ball is also pocketed.

Mitch and I gave up league-play about a year ago. Frankly, neither one of us have shot much at all since then. I’d probably played a bit more than him, but in any event we’d all of us be rusty. We went to shoot pool in the bar next to the bowling alley, the same place we played last year. And just like last year, some drunken idiot (below) thought it would be funny to ask a million questions. Granted, I’d likely do the same thing if four guys walked into a bar after 11 wearing matching shirts.

Admittedly, pool is not Josh’s strongest event, so I knew we were immediately at a disadvantage. All the same, with a 2-0 lead, I knew the pressure was on M & M to perform, and I figured that would make things easier for Josh. Lo and behold, it did. To an extent, that is. If I remember correctly, Mitch scratched to give us the win not once but twice. Fortunately, Matt picked up the slack, and emerged as the pool MVP.

I’d like to say we were able to turn things around and win our first ever pool match to go along with our tennis win. Sadly, though, it wasn’t meant to be. On the bright side, though, we eluded a thumping like last year’s 5-1 score, and instead we went to the rubber match. Unfortunately, M & M took it and walked away with a 5-4 victory. So, like tennis, the final game was needed. On the downside, it was near closing by the time we finished, meaning I was drunk and exhausted (natch) with at least one more event to go till calling it quits for the day. Oof.

The site of our demise for the second straight year.

Hey, look everybody! It’s a random, drunk asshole!

Pool Final Score: M & M defeat J & B, 5-4
Event MVP: Matt
Overall Score: J & B lead M & M, 2-1

Event 4: Beer Pong (Beirut)

Rules:

• Best 3 out of 5;
• 6 cups per side shaped in a pyramid;
• Elbows can’t pass the end of the table when shooting;
• Regroup cups after every made shot;
• Teams can rebound and reshoot missed shots;
• “Rebuttal” when both teams are on last cup; and
• Overtime consists of three cups per team.

After year one’s legendary Beer Pong win, and having not had a chance to play in year two, we decided beforehand that Beer Pong must be included this year. Furthermore, we thought it better to play Friday night, as we’d all be leaving early Sunday morning to drive to Baltimore for the Orioles game. With that, sometime after 2 AM, we kicked off Beer Pong.

Before going home to play, though, we made a pilgrimage to Wawa, as we’d been at this for over 7 hours and I, for one, hadn’t eaten since around noon. I ducked in for a meatball sub and some Dorito’s. Don’t believe me? Check the receipt:

Because that’s what you do at 1:57 AM.

Now, these next run of images are completely out of order. We didn’t finish playing until 3:30 or 4 AM, so we were unable to take the post-event photo until later (much later, in fact, as we took it Sunday morning). The photos that follow that one, though, are post-Beer Pong, post-Wawa.

We set up shop in Matt’s garage, playing on his personal table and listening to music piped in through a set of old speakers. I don’t remember much as far as any conversations we may or may not have had during Beer Pong (Beirut). All I know is that, while Matt is probably the best Beer Pong player I know, Josh and I eked out a miraculous victory in year one, and we were poised to do so again. With that, Josh and I took the first game, needing only two more to win the event. M & M answered right back, though, and we were tied at one game apiece. As we were all wasted and exhausted by then, strategy kind of went out the window, and instead I was hoping to make anything. I know I had at least one good game, but in the end it was Josh who starred, as I was consistently struggling to make the last cup. When the dust cleared, Josh and I not only won game 3, but game 4, as well. And, at long last, Day 1 of Brolympics was in the books, with Josh and I holding a comfortable 3-1 lead.

Sunday, pre-Orioles game.

Now, for those of you familiar with my “Tales of the Wandering Jew” posts, the following should look awfully familiar. Having been up since 5:30 in the morning, driven to Philly, competed in four events, been drinking for 12 hours and just eaten a meatball sub, I’d completely had it. I eventually scraped myself off the table and spent the night on the couch. See you in the morning…

Beer Pong Final Score: J & B defeat M & M, 3-1
Event MVP: Tie, Josh & Brandon
Overall Score: J & B lead M & M, 3-1

Click here to read Part 2 of “Do Not Pass Bro.”

Now, while I don’t have a traditional “cover” this year, I instead give you this gem, followed by a must-click link:

Tom Hanks & Dan Akroyd – “City of Crime“

If there was one song I wanted more than any other on this year’s Troutmas mix, it was “City of Crime.” What a goddamn embarrassment to watch Hanks & Akroyd perform this shitstorm from the equally shitty Dragnet. Sadly I could only get my hands on the above version, and in the conversion process the audio was downright terrible. Hence, I had to leave it off my mix and wallow in my own shitty misery.

Troutmas 2011:

1. Gary Portnoy – “Mr. Belvedere Theme Song“
2. Cyndi Lauper – “She Bop“
3. Barbershop Quartet – “The Vasectomy Song“
4. Treacherous Three – “Xmas Rap“
5. Randy Newman – “Short People“
6. Fat Boys and The Beach Boys – “Wipeout“
7. Ween – “Hey Fat Boy (Asshole)“
8. The Lonely Island – “Motherlover“
9. Bon Jovi – “Bad Medicine“
10. Jason Segel – “Dracula’s Lament“
11. 3rd Bass – “The Gas Face“
12. Busta Rhymes – “Woo Hah!!“
13. They Might Be Giants – “Mr. Klaw“
14. Junkyard Dog – “Grab Them Cakes“
15. Josie Cotton – “Johnny, Are You Queer?“
16. Peter Griffin – “Cowboy Gay Sex“
17. Fu-Schnickens – “What’s Up Doc (Can We Rock)“
18. The Eagles – “Witchy Woman“
19. Kurtis Blow – “Basketball“
20. Tenacious D – “Fuck Her Gently“
21. Patrick Swayze – “She’s Like the Wind“
22. MC Chris – “Pizza Butt“
23. ABBA – “Waterloo“
24. Run DMC – “Ghostbusters“
25. Alf Clausen – “ALF Theme Song“

That’ll just about do it for any and all Troutmas mixes for the year 2011. Until next time, have at it, you vultures!

BD

Now, what I don’t have for you is the compendium disc Chuck brought to this last Troutmas. Rather than making a standard mix, he instead put together a CD combining the work of two artists and two artists only: Wesley Willis and R. Kelly. Let me tell you that when I say it’s genius, I mean that wholeheartedly. It’s truly inspired.

I haven’t made it to Troutmas since 2009, but I was so inspired by Chuck’s latest effort that I began working on a brand new Troutmas mix of my own. It’s about half-way done, but you can rest assured it will be on the site once it’s completed. And I can tell you right now that it’s got some downright terrible singles already. So, without further adieu, I give you Chuck’s 2011 Troutmas shitfest.

Chuck’s 2011 Troutmas Mix:

1. Insane Clown Posse – “Miracles“
2. Tom T. Hall – “I Love (Little Baby Ducks)“
3. Trailer Park Boys – “Shit Hawks“
4. Culture Club – “I’ll Tumble 4 Ya“
5. Bone Thugs-N-Harmony – “1st of Tha Month“
6. Night Ranger – “Sister Christian“
7. LL Cool J – “Big Ole Butt“
8. The Dirtbombs – “Shari Vari“
9. George Harrison – “Got My Mind Set on You“
10. They Might Be Giants – “In the Middle“
11. Kid Rock – “Balls in Your Mouth“
12. NewSong – “Christmas Shoes“
13. N.W.A. – “100 Miles and Runnin’“
14. Gerardo – “Rico Suave“
15. Bubbles and the Shit Rockers – “Liquor & Whores“
16. Billy Joel – “Allentown“

Well, there you have it. Another fine outing from Western PA’s finest. Thanks to Chuck for yet another solid contribution. Until I get my 2011 Troutmas mix on this piece, have at it, you vultures!

BD

Years later, after my dad and step-mom were married, they adopted an orange Lab named Duncan. He was loyal, affectionate and quiet, and even though my parents adored him, he was never my dog, either. Duncan died of an aneurysm and my parents were heartbroken. I got it, but I didn’t get it. I mean, I knew I loved animals and I was sad Duncan passed, but he still wasn’t mine. I just thought of him as a “good dog” who I knew my parents loved. They got another dog, Sam, who they rescued. She was everything Duncan wasn’t: loud, aggressive and kind of a flake. To be fair, though, I kind of blamed my parents. They rarely walked her and refused to give her the run of the house. In fact, Sam was essentially confined to the kitchen, so I couldn’t have been happier to learn that they eventually found a family with a farm to adopt her.

Since then, I haven’t really had a dog. Well, that is until about four months ago, when my girlfriend moved in with her little brown Weiner dog, Oscar. She’d had him for over a decade, and even though she was never sure of his exact age (she found and rescued him, after all), she put him at 11 or 12. I flew to Texas and personally moved her and Oscar here. He spent half of the 25-hour drive in my girlfriend’s lap, and the other half in a cardboard box cut and lined with blankets to act as a makeshift bed. She and Oscar were as close as I’d ever seen an owner with her pet. He followed her everywhere, and because he had a bad back (as a lot of Dachshunds do), he wasn’t allowed to climb or descend the stairs, which meant one of us was always toting the little fella around. It was no bother, though. He loved to be loved. He didn’t bark at people. Hell, he didn’t bark at other dogs. He was loyal and cuddly. At night he slept with us and would borrow under the blankets, a trait common to his breed, apparently. He was just a great little guy.

Well, not long after they moved here, Oscar had to go to the animal hospital for digestive problems, which had been plaguing him since before he moved. Additionally, the doctors not only confirmed that he had a heart murmur, but an enlarged heart. It’s trite, I know, but it didn’t surprise me, because Oscar was all heart. Over the past couple months, Oscar had several episodes of strained breathing, and he started taking various medications to treat both his heart and what became a regular cough. About two weeks ago I was forced to rush the little man to the animal hospital after he fell over and began convulsing. He recovered, but it scared the hell out of me all the same, as I was the only one home when it happened.

This past Saturday, during 4th of July weekend, my girlfriend and I drove out to Pittsburgh, leaving Oscar with my sister. That night we got a call that he wasn’t doing so well, and the next morning my sister drove him back to the hospital. We drove back Sunday morning after we got the call and picked Oscar up. He was with my dad and step-mom at their house. He was listless, but clearly excited to see my girlfriend all the same. We brought him home and did what we could to make him comfortable. We put him in bed with us and even fed him a hot dog. Later that afternoon, though, after watching his labored breathing for hours, he had another fit and let out an awful whimper, a sound we’d neither of us ever heard him make before. He apparently stopped breathing momentarily, and it was enough for us to drive him back to the hospital. We knew beforehand that we weren’t taking him to be examined, but to do the humane thing and let him rest comfortably.

After 30 minutes or so, they took us into a private room where we able to hang out with Oscar, who had been fitted with an IV. The doctors told us to take as long as we wanted, and to let them know when we were ready. My girlfriend gave me the word and we notified the doctor. He came in, explained the procedure, and proceeded to inject Oscar’s IV with a blue fluid. My girlfriend held Oscar in her arms all the while, and within seconds he was gone. It was obviously the worst thing she ever had to do, yet it was the right decision. He needed the peace we couldn’t give him. We both cried, she more than me. And I encourage her to keep doing so, to do whatever she needs.

So, with that, she and I curated a mix for Oscar. He had many names — Oskie, Wein, Little Brown Man, Montgomery “Monty” Wrinkles and, my personal favorite, Merlin Diapers. With that, this is the Mix for Montgomery “Monty” Wrinkles. In locating songs for this mix, we searched our libraries with everything from “dog” to “brown” to “wrinkles” to “weiner.” With any luck, this all pans out pretty well.

Mix for Montgomery “Monty” Wrinkles:

1. Harry Nilsson – “The Puppy Song“
2. Harlem – “Three Legged Dog“
3. Hello Echo – “Animals”
4. The Beta Band – “Dog’s Got a Bone“
5. The Fiery Furnaces – “My Dog Was Lost But Now He’s Found“
6. Sly & the Family Stone – “Dog”
7. Spoon – “The Underdog“
8. The Format – “Dog Problems“
9. Swearing at Motorists – “Dog With the Lampshade Head“
10. Quasi – “Master & Dog“
11. Devendra Banhart – “Dogs They Make Up the Dark“
12. Elliott Smith – “Little One“
13. For Stars – “Brown Skin Saint“
14. Yo La Tengo – “Little Eyes“
15. Wu Lyf – “Such a Sad Puppy Dog“
16. The Mountain Goats – “Song for Dennis Brown“
17. Iron & Wine – “Kingdom of the Animals“
18. Mountain Man – “Animal Tracks“
19. Augie March – “Little Wonder“
20. The Antlers – “Putting the Dog to Sleep“
21. Astrud Gilberto – “The Puppy Song“

RIP, Oscar (Little Brown Man).

BD

This month-long installment of haiku, from Monday, May 30, 2011 through Sunday, June 26, 2011, covers puns, Memorial Day, Octopussy, job interviews, bartenders, cheapskates, Young Guns II, punk rock, The Real Housewives of New Jersey, local flare, Adam Richman, LeBum James, Selena Gomez, Heather Graham, Hersheypark, Bon Jovi, lawn care, break-ups, white trash eats, Yuengling, Father’s Day, The Expendables, realtors, Gordon Ramsay, softball, Lake Tobias and Coraline. As always, you can find this collection here every Monday, or go on over and subscribe to my Twitter feed. Have I slacked off a bit? Sure. But how many of you are shamelessly plugging your Twitter feed and writing stupid haiku on a daily basis?! Didn’t think so.

My Financial State Has Inspired Me to Write Terrible Puns Haiku (May 30, 2011)

I’m so fucking poor
that even my morals are
bankrupt. [ba-dum-chh]

My Absolutely Traditional Celebration of Memorial Day Haiku (May 31, 2011)

Ate sushi for lunch,
because I’m obviously
an American.

After Watching Roger Moore as James Bond in Octopussy Haiku (June 1, 2011)

007?!
Please. That old fart should have been
named “700.”

After Yesterday’s Job Interview, I Fear the Worst is Upon Me Haiku (June 2, 2011)

Spent an hour in a
suit talking with a banker.
I’m now dead inside.

To the Bartender I Hate at the Bar I Like Haiku (June 3, 2011)

Why don’t I come in
much anymore, you ask?
Because you’re always there.

To the Woman Who Refused 50¢ Instead of $1 for Uno at Her Yard Sale Haiku (June 4, 2011)

Hope you enjoy a
lifetime of solo Uno,
you fucking dipshit!

After Watching Young Guns II Till 5 AM, Note the Star Power Haiku (June 5, 2011)

Estevez, Slater,
Lou Diamond Phillips AND
Kiefer?! Call Tiger Beat!!!

To the Musicians Who May Have Permanently Debased Me Haiku (June 6, 2011)

Much thanks, three punk rock
bands, for officially causing
me to go deaf.

The Mantra of The Real Housewives of New Jersey Haiku (June 7, 2011)

Family, Family, Family
Family, Family, Fuck You, Sis!
Family, Family.

To the Guys at the Bar Who Went Retro with Their Greeting Haiku (June 8, 2011)

I understand you’re
drunk, old Central PA men,
but “Wassup”? Really?!

Why Man Vs. Food Nation Is an Inferior Product Haiku (June 9, 2011)

I preferred to watch
Richman when I thought it HIM
who’d keel over. Sigh.

After Calling His Shot Via Social Media, an Epiphany Haiku (June 10, 2011)

In retrospect, LeBron
shouldn’t have taken his
talents to Twitter.

Solving the Mystery of Selena Gomez & J. Bieber’s Tryst Haiku (June 11, 2011)

It must have been her
turn in Princess Protection
Program that did it.

Assessing the Key Performance in the Judy Moody Movie Haiku (June 12, 2011)

Heather Graham plays the
ditzy aunt in revealing
clothing. Oh, what range!

Taking Inventory of Yesterday’s Trip to Hersheypark Haiku (June 13, 2011)

My fav’rite game was
from atop the Ferris Wheel.
Played “Spot the Mullet.”

Sadly, I Assume This Happens at Least Once a Day Haiku (June 14, 2011)

“Shit, they were NEVER
the same after Slippery.”
- Bon Jovi fans/nerds

After Looking Through the Kitchen Window That Overlooks My Yard Haiku (June 15, 2011)

My lawn is merely
an extension of myself:
covered in dog shit.

There Is Simply No Such Thing as Being Let Down Easy Haiku (June 16, 2011)

Whenever I hear
“It’s not you; it’s me,” I know
it is ALWAYS “you.”

My Litany of Eats During Last Night’s White Trash Party Haiku (June 17, 2011)

Six PBRs. Four
Jell-O shots. Gobs of spray cheese.
Ready for NASCAR.

My Plans for Today’s Trip to the Yuengling Brewery Haiku (June 18, 2011)

I intend to go
Bob and Doug McKenzie all
over a chilled vat.

For My Father on Father’s Day Haiku (June 19, 2011)

Because you sold shoes
for thirty-plus years, you’ll always
be Al Bundy.

My Recreation of Yesterday’s Festivities With My Family Haiku (June 20, 2011)

[Very loud noises.]
[Talking over each other.]
“Happy Father’s Day!”

After Watching The Expendables, My Proposed Title Change Haiku (June 21, 2011)

Sly & Arnold &
Dolph & the Rest of The
Indecipherables.

Some Tips From My Realtor After Yesterday’s Open House Haiku (June 22, 2011)

Touch up kitchen paint.
Mop foyer. Burn dead bodies
in garage. Clean den.

I Think I’m Beginning to See a Pattern Here Haiku (June 23, 2011)

I like that show where
Gordon Ramsay cooks food and
tells people they suck.

After I Homered In My 1st At-Bat of Yesterday’s Softball Game Haiku (June 24, 2011)

Decided to go
out on top. Punched a baby
rounding third, then quit.

My Highlight From Today’s Trip to the Animal Park Haiku (June 25, 2011)

What did I point out
at the nature reserve? “That
bull’s making a poop!”

After Watching Coraline, My Daughter Was Scared to Sleep Haiku (June 26, 2011)

Probably shouldn’t
have left buttons, a needle
and thread in her room.

Well, that’ll do it for this installment. What a month. Have at it, you vultures!

BD

Where to begin on this goddamn term…

First of all, there must be a statute of limitation. These days, every movie, television show, and inkling of gossip is available online. If your pal hasn’t seen the movie and exactly divulged every and all secret about the new M. Night Shamalamadingdong movie, you’ve no less heard the “big reveal” via Twitter or some other form of social media. (Oh, by the way, want to know the secret of every M. Night movie? It sucks! There. Mystery solved.) I guess what I’m saying is that if you’ve not yet seen films with twists at the end, such as the aforementioned The Sixth Sense, too fucking bad. It was released in 1999, which is alarmingly 12 years ago already. It’s your own goddamn fault if you don’t know the ending.

Also, Bruce Willis is dead! The little boy sees dead people, which is why he can see Bruce Willis. Mystery solved, shitbags! And for the record, Verbal Kint is Keyser Söze, Darth is Luke’s father, and Don Draper’s an alcoholic. (Okay, so that last one’s not a spoiler; rather, I just wanted to talk some Mad Men, as I’m missing it terribly.)

My lady actually owns a t-shirt featuring this very image! Kismet?

You know when people say “Spoiler Alert” to let you know they’re about to reveal some bit of secret information, thereby ruining whatever movie or television show you intended to see down the line? Well, here’s some news. Saying “Spoiler Alert” before giving it away does not excuse giving it away. It’s the same thing as people who excuse their own asshole comment by saying “I’m just being honest” or “The truth hurts.” While it may be true, it doesn’t excuse them for acting like terrible people. Same goes for interjecting “Spoiler Alert.” What, so you said those two words and now I no longer have the right to see something at my own leisure? You’re off the hook because you told me a full moment earlier that you’re going to give away the twist? Fuck you! Again, this goes back to the statute of limitation.

I move for one week on this and nothing more. In other words, if a movie or show has been made available to the public for an entire week, those in the know are no longer required to insert “Spoiler Alert” into their oral or written communication beforehand. Now, if you intend to write about a show and know that spoilers will be included, as was always the case with my beloved LOST, then by all means say so at the top of said article. I guess what I’m saying is that I’m okay with spoilers; it’s the term “Spoiler Alert” and the douchebags who say it without giving their audience a chance not to hear said spoiler that drives me fucking bananas.

Now that I think about it, there are no good spoilers. Not this kind of “spoil”…

Gross.

And certainly not this kind of spoiler…

Grosser.

With that, I should make it known that — SPOILER ALERT — you’re all gonna’ die someday. Adorable.

Well, that’ll do it for this installment. Until letter “T” creeps up behind you and gooses you with a bowling pin, have at it, you vultures!

BD