Welcome to the late night early morning Buffa shack of thoughts. For the people who think I resemble a Post Dispatch writer, consider this the unfiltered take. The lost kids in the store in my head. The words I keep silent while I produce prose for the masses. As the Royals and Mets play baseball in the 14th inning at Kaufman in Kansas City in Game 1 of the World Series. In other words, the game where people try to decide which team Joe Buck wants to win more.
Harold Reynolds sucks. No I mean he really fucking stinks at being a color analyst. At one point in the game, he talked about how everything starts with a pitch and a hit ball. He’s just bad. He knows baseball but the wrong words come out of his mouth. It may be the fact that he accused the Cardinals of stealing signs from the Dodgers a year ago. It could have been the fact that he got on all fours and mentally undressed Clayton Kershaw on a mound. I don’t like him and brings Buck down.
No one rolls with the punches better than Buck. He isn’t as good as his dad. He has time there to get there. He can take anything and roll on. A bad graphic? Got it. A technical malfunction that literally cut off the world series from TV sets for a few minutes. He talked about putting change in the meter and playing all night. He’s smooth. He is intelligent. He cares about baseball. He’s a gem.
Eric Hosmer hits a sac fly and wins Game 1 in the 14th for the Royals. Something you’ll never predict. Bartolo Colon loses a decision to Chris Young. Download that one.
Speaking of Colon, he tested positive for PEDs in 2012. Something to help him recover from all those buffet trips. He’s a large man.
The Royals and The Mets. Two good clubs who made moves at the deadline that boosted their team. The royals added Johnny Cueto and Ben Zobrist. The Mets added Yoenis Cespedes, who hit 17 HR and slugged .604 down the stretch. Something the Cards didn’t do at the deadline.
Bridge of Spies and The Martian are worth your hard warren money at the cinema. 2015 was a weak slate until the last month. Add in the Walk and these are three films that could contend for Oscars yet also entertain and inform an audience.
Bridge of Spies is all Cold War history. A lawyer negotiating a swap of spies during a time where 2 countries engaged in a vicious cock fight that captivated a nation. Hanks is great. Spielberg is swinging the hammer again. The movie resonates.
Martian will literally beat you up with inventive survivalist thrills. In a good way. As Matt Damon says, it will science the shit out of you. Ridley Scott hits all the right notes here in adapting a novel and adding cinematic twists to engage the viewer.
The Walk is a slice of wild American French history. Joseph Gordon Levitt plays the Frenchman who dared to lay a wire across the World Trade Center Towers and walk across it. Director Robert Zemeckis frames the film like a magician showing a bag of historical tricks. It’s a kick and bittersweet because those towers eventually fell 30 years later.
Kingdom is the TV show to watch and Frank Grillo is a big part of it. It’s everywhere. iTunes. Amazon. Hulu. Uverse. Everywhere. Yeah the show I’ve been bothering you with reviewcaps of is good. A family of MMA fighters. Drugs. Destiny. Ambition. Frank Grillo powered of course. Grillo has quickly over took guys like Jason Statham, Denzel Washington, Jon Hamm and Vin Diesel as my authentic action hero and must watch actor. Yeah fuck you I mean it. He’s dynamite. A guy who looks like he was chiseled out of rusted steel and grit to recreate what Charles Bronson would look like if he worked out. He is a guy who looks the part and sinks his teeth, balls and knee into. Few actors can mold into roles. Frank Grillo can do it. If you don’t know him or his films get on it.
Watch these films.
Warrior, The Grey, Disconnect, End of Watch, The Purge Anarchy and Pride and Glory. See who sticks out.
I haven’t listened to enough new music but Alabama Shakes and The National are good bets.
Starbucks coffee officially tastes like shit. It’s burnt. Over roasted. Bad. I get a five shot iced espresso from the Bux these days. It’s like iced coffee with a nasty ex wife and sirloin steak attached to it with a hammer and blowtorch finish. Try it and hang on.
I’m a t shirt, jeans and fleece guy. Always. Fuck polo’s. Fuck suits. Pleats. I’m a stay at home writer dad so I can look like a bastard. I can be a bald headed bearded Italian with torn jeans and a shirt on the snug side. I got the body to back it up too so don’t hate. If you are fat, stop being fat. It’s a choice.
Don’t eat gas station food.
Too many school shootings but I’m becoming less surprised. The world we live in has a load of fucked Up people in it. It has nothing to do with video games or movies. Or bad parenting. Some people are born with a faulty wiring. Bad makeup inside. It’s sad but true. This would get more attention but we are busy crying over an ex basketball player who snorted enough drugs to kill a horse. Yeah.
People flip that on me by saying I made it okay to sympathize over Heath Ledger. Wrong. I loved Ledger’s work in the Dark Knight. What he did to himself off the set is moronic. He took a wild mix of pills and died. He didn’t kill himself but he was stupid. He left behind a little girl, family, friends and talent. You see people die and it’s not mourning them. It’s mourning the loss from others. Heath was dumb. No sympathy. His performance in DK is legendary and deserved accolades. His death…not. Same for Philip Seymour Hoffman. Not cool to have your kid find you with a needle in your arm pale dead.
Oscar Taveras made a terrible albeit common mistake. He drank a shit ton, drove and killed himself and his 18 year old girlfriend in a crash. He left behind a son. He was dumb. People can learn from his mistake. No sympathy but Oscar isn’t a murderer. Murder is premeditated assholes.
Maybe parents who lost a child and had a rough childhood can learn from Odom and not snort everything but the dust off the walls at a brothel to find peace. Maybe that will help future depressed folks not make unthinkable lapses in judgement. No Love Ranch for a healing. Better at a church with a horny priest.
Vladimir Tarasenko is a stud and if he doesn’t like being called Tank, I will stop. I fall victim to the player is great so slap a nickname on it bug as much as anyone. Vladi doesn’t care for nicknames and that’s cool. Special talent can make special demands. Not that he actually cares.
If Daniel Craig wants to talk shit about playing James Bond in four films and its “toll”, let him. On the other hand, he can also decide to stop sounding like a petulant child who finally gets to leave home and explore on his own. I love the guy and his impact on Bond won’t be easy to match, but every time I hear high paid movie stars complaining about how a role makes them look or strains them, I feel like stepping into Danny Bautista’s shoes and bouncing their ass down a slope. Then SAY NO NEXT TIME. LIKE I SAID, Frank Grillo never bitched and moaned. He has two sequels to one monstrous franchise(Marvel’s Captain America: Civil War and The Purge 3) coming up but you don’t hear him WHINING. He just gets on set and kills it. Follow suit, Mr. Craig or I will stain your tux and kick your ass myself. Or I’ll call Tom Hanks to come kill you again(like he did in Road to Perdition).
Ed Burns new show Public Morals isn’t just a good enough show to write about. It’s an old school classy ode to 1960’s police work. He based on his dad’s stories. Consider it the other side of town to Mad Men. Burns is a master at casting, telling a simple story and at making a dream happen. He is the reason you can watch new releases on demand instead of in theaters. He is the reason Itunes releases movies. He once made a film for 12,000 dollars. Respect the craft. Burns is a made guy in cinema.
Burns responded to my tweet, read my article and retweeted(sending it to his 67,000 followers for the Twitter handicaps) my review. He is a gent. Having actors, directors, creators or whatever respond and show a piece of shit like myself attention never gets old. Never.
My wife, the lovely and ferocious Rachel, turned 32 today. We are getting so fucking old. Yes, 32 and 33 can be old when you decided to fight life at an early and try to play house with another human. I am 33 but feel 45. We met when we were flirting with 21. Now we are an old married couple with a four year old 42 pound heavyweight pain in my ass yet adorably earnest dude named Vinny. Happily ever after comes at a cost my friends, but it’s worth it. If the other person is a good fit. Find someone who loves you at your lowest and when you are a complete gigantic fucking moron. I got one in Rae. She’s mine. Hands off bastards. Did I mention she’s almost 5 feet 3 inches? I can lean on her when I’m sleepy. That’s a bonus round you Facebook slot game clicking maniacs. Anyway, today, wish her a happy birthday or just think it you cheap prick.
Time for me to go. I have talked for over 1.600 words and it’s past 1am. It’s late and quiet. Except for the TV, which never sleeps. What’s bad? Trying to go to sleep and a classic like Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Commando comes on the tube. 96 minutes of brainless yet highly entertaining scenery chewing muscle glistening macho tough guy banter. A movie where Arnold spends the entire film in the same green henley and never showers. Fuck. Those were the days. Budget around 25 million. Explosions. Ugly fat bad guys wearing chain shirts with creepy mustaches. I just got a nostalgic boner thinking about it.
Until next time, enjoy the structured writing.
One thought on “A Stream of Consciousness amid Midnight Baseball”
HAPPY BIRTHDAY RACHEL!!!!!!!!!!!!!