Good & Not So Good of 2012

It’s a few hours before that horrible TV experience known as ROCKIN' NEW YEAR’S EVE, so it must be time for my annual Good & Not So Good of the past year.

2012 “Good” of Pop Culture

Movie: Lincoln
TV Show: Boardwalk Empire
Reality Show: America’s Got Talent
Book: Fifty Shades of Grey by EL James
Album: Overexposed by Maroon 5
Song: “Call Me Maybe” by Carly Rae Jepsen
Episode of SNL: Martin Short & Paul McCartney (Dec 2012)
Sports Story of 2012: NY Giants once again beat Brady and the Patriots
Late Night Talk Show: Jimmy Fallon
Favorite Celebrity of 2012: Wilford Brimley (of course)
Break Out Star of 2012: Ted from the movie Ted
Best Thing of 2012: Barack Obama reelected

2012 “Not So Good” of Pop Culture

Movie: Rock of Ages
TV Show: Is Whitney still on?
Reality Show: Snooki & J-Woww
Book: In One Person by John Irving
Album: Unapologetic by Rihanna
Song: "Never Ever Getting Back Together" by Taylor Swift
SNL Episode: Daniel Craig & Muse (Oct 2012)
Annoying Story of 2012: Summer Olympics
Horrible Story of 2012 Two-Way Tie: Newtown Shootings/Super Storm Sandy
People Magazine Story of 2012: William & Kate Pregnant
Late Night Talk Show: Chelsea Lately
Most Overrated Star of 2012: Rihanna
Least Favorite Celebrity of 2012: Kim Kardashian
Biggest Disappointment: "Guns don't kill people, people kill people."
Worst Thing of 2012: Gangnam Style

My 2013 Wish: RIP, American Idol

There you have it. I hope you had a super 2012. Try not to fall of the 'Fiscal Cliff' in 2013!

Read More:http://news.msn.com/pop-culture/some-really-odd-stuff-happened-in-2012

Brian Huba
12.31.12

Literally the sickest story I have ever read

See Link: http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/queens/man_dead_in_train_push_horror_in_9GAX83oeSi36YYRTZ77AqO


More about this story: http://www.nypost.com/p/news/local/victim_of_brutal_subway_shove_id_pQ6fAjrP43uWDFN5a1jLwO


Brian Huba
12.28.12

Give 'Em the Strippers

Did anyone read about the off-duty Schenectady Cops being investigated for having strippers at the Clam Shack on Broadway? A group of graveyard guys got together for a “glorified” Holiday Party and brought in some adult entertainment. Now the Chief of Police, Mark Chaires, has to pretend he cares about this, and when it’s done, the Dept. will probably have to suspend their “glorified” Parties, because that’s what the public will demand. I say if nothing illegal happened, who cares, give 'em the strippers.

Do you have any idea what the life of a Schenectady Beat Officer is probably like? The stress involved with taking a domestic-disturbance or gunshot call in Hamilton Hill? Many of these cops are just like me, early thirties, first house, starting a family, etc. Only difference is I don’t live with the reality that every time I punch the time clock I could come back with a toe tag. They're doing the most dangerous work in Upstate New York, functioning on tight salaries, trying to create a civilized life for themselves and family, but their whole day (or night) is wearing a uniform and huge hat inside slums where most see you as the enemy. You want to do it?

In a world where fire fighters are being baited to house calls for target practice, I think these cops should get strippers every Friday night, paid with tax dollars, which wasn't the case here, of course. Schenectady Cop? I’d probably be divorced, a drunk, every fingernail chewed to the quick. And these guys aren't small-town cop who gets off duty then gets drunk and drives down the road in reverse, because he can. We all know that guy. Nope. The Electric City is the real deal.


God bless 'em. And if legally-hired strippers is what it takes to compartmentalize some of the stress, so be it.

Read More:http://www.news10.com/story/20426696/police-under-investigation-for-having-strippers-at-platoon-party

Brian Huba
12.27.12

Bad Idea, Jethro

Anyone who thinks more guns are the answer to solving gun violence probably thinks Sarah Palin would be a good President too. To believe that arming teachers and clergymen and hospital employees will deter people who want to commit heinous crimes like we saw in Newtown last week is the same as suggesting the best way to fight drugs is just give everybody crack and coke to even it out. It’s ridiculous and such ridiculousness on issues is eating America from the inside out. Being from New York we are immune to most of this Ted Nugent thinking, but take a trip to Kansas or Kentucky and you’ll see why George Bush was elected President.

Enough already with the Second Amendment. I’m so tired of NRAers throwing that argument up as defense for arming the entire country. It means nothing. I don’t care about your right to have a wall of weapons in your house. That amendment was written by men whose heads would explode if they ever saw a two-story building. That antiquated amendment doesn’t mean every American gets to have an assault rifle capable of crushing an entire village. A small handgun is one thing, not weaponry that the Taliban would get giddy over.

What about hunting, Brian? Hunting is disgusting. I don’t need a lesson on where meat comes from, I get that. But for a regular civilian to go into the woods and blow an animal’s head off for game, that’s not my kind of game. But, Brian, without hunting the wild animal population would be overwhelming. Wrong again, Jethro, it wouldn’t. Wild animals statistically live short lives and die off from so many other things. Hunting doesn’t affect it either way. So please, can the Right-to-Bear-Arms-for-Hunting argument.

What’s next? Arming teachers to stop school shootings? Another gem, Jethro. You want a teacher in front of a classroom conducting a lesson with a handgun on his person? Really? You know for every teacher there are about 30 students of all different states of mind. 30 to 1. Yeah right, that doesn’t have front page of the NY POST written all over it. And if a shooter enters the school, said teacher can just retreat to his office and grab his assault rifle and shoot the intruder dead. So you want a Hollywood shootout in the hallways of our high schools? No, Brian, the teachers would be trained. Really? That 57-year-old computer teacher would be trained to identify and eliminate a target with one bullet? So he’d teach computer class AND be James Bond?

If you’re not in the Army, a Police Officer, or some profession of that nature, you should NOT have an assault rifle. The end. I don’t care about your Second-Amendment Rights and I don’t care about your Hunting Sundays. We had 21,000 gun deaths last year. Actually, I know a few guys who were shot dead while hunting. Enough is enough. This is just another issue that Barack Obama has to clean up after eight years of Bush. And if you tell me that same dumb line: Guns don’t kill people, people kill people. Again I say no, Jethro. There’s a reason the Military doesn’t invade foreign lands armed with Puppies or Goose-feather Pillows. Guns are killing machines.

What's my solution to problems right now? Build a time machine, go back to 2000, and put Gore in the White House? America is still the best country in the world, but even the best is going to flounder a while right off the worst leader in Modern History.

Read this: http://www.timesunion.com/local/article/NRA-solution-to-Newtown-school-shooting-More-guns-4138371.php

Watch this: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CdeczH1Sxao&safety_mode=true&persist_safety_mode=1&safe=active

Brian Huba
12.21.12

George Bush & Social Media

What happened on Friday in Newtown is one of the worst moments in Modern American History. 9/11, Pearl Harbor, the Challenger & JFK. That bad. And now the talk will turn to blame. The gun guys will tell you guns don’t kill people, people kill people. Actor/Politicians will Tweet super-original things like it’s the media’s fault for glorifying killers. Others will finger the separation of God and schools. Some might say America is mishandling its mentally ill. I go George Bush and Social Media.

George Bush ruined this country. When he stole that election from Al Gore, the US of A tumbled immediately into terrorism, all-out war, violence, natural disasters, and surging surpluses gone. Paradise finished. We lost two towers, four commercial flights, and the City of New Orleans. I’d say 'God' was sending America a bright-neon sign. When historians look back, the election of Bush will be the beginning of the end in America. Why are 400,000 teachers about to be laid off? Bush! Why are we in a Fiscal Cliff? Bush! Why are the roads and bridges crumbling? Bush! Why are college degrees useless? Bush! He ruined this country.

When Obama mercifully took office in 2009, the country was in the worst shape it’s been since the 1930s. And before you blame Obama for not magically fixing the Great Recession remember it took the beloved FDR nine years to pull us out of the Great Depression. On this issue, what do you want Obama to do? Arm the teachers? Can anyone say Syria?

So here we are: 30 million hopelessly out of work, doing nothing but starting Facebook wars and posting statuses. Why? Bush! 30 million, that’s more people than most countries total. Social Media has allowed the worst thing possible for any prospering empire: It's given uninformed people a voice and place to mobilize. Remember when you had to be an accredited journalist to have a media presence?

We are endlessly on the brink of war around the world, the rich are obnoxiously rich, the Middle Class is a shrinking image, and our 20-somethings want to be singer/songwriters/artists. Nobody wants to be an electrician or plumber or elevator repairman. Electricians don't shoot up schools. Failed songwriters with orange hair do that. They all want to be Snooki and the Situation. Everyone wants their fifteen minutes of fame, even if that fame comes on a suicide mission.

The American Dream is now a reality-TV, Down-to-the-Final-Eight ideology. It’s no longer a modest house with a job and family. Everyone is going to be famous now, it’s an American Right. Today's 20-somethings are going to be the first generation to fall short of their parents. You can thank George Bush who crippled this country's growth and Facebook for giving people a forum to 'fight back.'

What happens when that 21-year-old who wants to be a singer/songwriter/artist/actor realizes such a career is less likely than getting hit by lighting and winning the lottery? Is that when his desire to be talked about gives him the idea to shoot up a middle school or shopping mall? Plumbers don't shoot up shopping malls. Having people blog about you is better than a ranch house and raising kids on a carpenter’s salary. It's the Fast-Food Approach. It's the new America.

George Bush turned America into a country club for the top 2%, while destroying the Middle Class on a fake war and unregulated mortgage practices that put a bullet in the housing market. Combine that with a culture of delusional, over-parented 20-somethings. You can be anything you want to be, Little Johnny. Who cares about ethic or talent? You deserve it. When you’re young and unequipped to face rejection or challenge, there’s no limit to what you could do to yourself or others. This is what happens when the present can’t climb past the prior. My only fear is what’s next? What will some wannabe singer/songwriter with access to guns do to be talked about on MSNBC? What could ever be worse than executing 20 elementary kids? I'm afraid we might soon find out.

Read More:http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/12/15/newtown-shooting-motive_n_2306876.html

Brian Huba
12.15.12

One Last Conversation

Yesterday was the Holiday Party on my father’s side. This tradition has been going for years, and it’s always interesting to see everyone. This year it was held at my cousin Jen’s house in Loudonville, and I remember when Jen was just a kid (she’s the same age as me), chasing gifts from her mother. Now she’s almost a mother herself and the emcee of the only family party we hold true to. Of course this party has been a bittersweet day since my father’s passing in 2009. It's always a mixed bag of emotions. Yesterday was no different.

The hardest part of losing any loved one is knowing you can never see them again, never have another conversation. During the festivities yesterday, I slipped off to a side room to take a breather, and found my father’s brother sitting alone in the semi-dark by the window. This brother is about the same age as my father, he looks like him, talks like him, moves like him, and his eyes are the same. He was my father’s best friend and best man at his wedding. They spent afternoons together for years. This man is the closest thing on earth to what my father was, and there he was, alone in the semi-dark.

Me and this uncle don’t usually talk. He’s had a hard time with things, losing some of the movement and ability in his right hand and arm from a life in construction. When I saw him there, my first instinct was to wave hello and move along, but for some reason I sat down in the next chair. We spoke for twenty minutes. Every so often he moved painfully in his seat, trying to adjust his arthritic and withered body. We spoke of all things.

A few minutes into the talk I realized I was using my father’s closest brother. In that semi-dark room, I was using my uncle to cheat the one rule of death, and have one last conversation with my father. Yes, for a few moments in time, my father was alive again, morphed up from his brother, if only in the eyes, and voice, and movements. I was able to speak with him. I cheated. And when it was done, I ended the conversation and went back to my wife, leaving my father’s brother alone in the semi-dark.

When my father was alive, we had an up-and-down relationship. It was, at times, a chaotic dynamic, often capable of sparking with intense love or anger. I guess that’s how life goes. The last time I ever saw my dad, we were over at the family house. I was with my wife (then my girlfriend) and dogs, and my mother, brother, and sister were there. The whole family together for dinner at his new dining-room table.

When the food finished, we talked like two grown men. Finally after all those years of chaos, we had reached a mutual peace. This would be the beginning of a great time in life. Later on, when he got tired, he said he was heading to bed. We shook hands and he said, “I’ll see you soon, Brian.” Then I watched him walk off and up the stairs, into the darkness, and I never saw him again, a lifetime of chaos ended so quietly and easily. It was nice to see him again yesterday, if only for a few moments in the semi-dark.

Brian Huba
12.10.12

Senseless

My greatest fear is dying senselessly. Every day I leave the house I wonder for a few beats if this is my day, because there’s no way you can know. I have thought much about the two local tragedies this week. First the young girl stabbed to death by her sister’s ex-boyfriend in Albany. She was 20. Who figures their life could ever end stabbed to death? I’ve also thought much about the Shen seniors who passed away last weekend. In the end Dennis Drue, who struck their SUV and has since been crucified, his “troubled past” posted all over the media, wasn’t even drunk, and the DA will have a heck of time proving he did anything wrong. How can he prove it? I think this ordeal ends with Drue walking. Dying senselessly. Horrible.

Did anyone see that Christopher Wallace's AKA Notorious BIG's autopsy was made public this week? Biggie was shot in LA in ’97 leaving a night club. It was a drive by and Biggie was in the shotgun seat of a Chevy Suburban. He was shot four times, including a bullet in the scrotum, and only the final shot was fatal. The rapper was rushed to Cedar-Sinai Hospital where he was pronounced dead at 24. Biggie’s killer has never been found. As I’m sure most remember, this was the unofficial finish to the East Coast vs. West Coast Rap Battle that waged in the late 90s, and was intensified with the shooting death of Tupac Shakur in ’96 in Vegas after the Mike Tyson Fight. Tupac’s killer has never been found either.

I think Biggie’s death is as sad and senseless as the murder of John Lennon. I don’t think Biggie or Puff Daddy or Bad Boy wanted anything to do with this silly East vs. West thing that Death Row and Tupac fueled for so many years. All Biggie ever talked about was making peace with Tupac and enjoying the huge success they both had. But Tupac was 150lbs of walking, talking trouble. He was involved with so many bad people, like Suge Knight and the Black Panthers. The night Tupac died, he was caught on security tape stomping some guy in a casino lobby. The night Biggie died, he didn’t have a drop of alcohol or drugs in his system, despite just leaving a night club. Biggie rapped about the life. Tupac tried being it. Biggie wanted nothing to do with this war.

Every time Tupac got shot, and he got shot a lot, moron rap fans and media people found a way to link it back to Biggie. And Biggie would tell anyone who would listen that he had nothing to do with it. Why would Biggie want Tupac dead? Why would he commit murder, even by accessory, with millions in the bank and living a dream life? But when Tupac was finally finished off at 25 in Vegas, Biggie knew that he was next, even though he was three thousand miles away when it happened. The truth: Tupac’s own people probably killed him to sell posthumous albums. But from the moment Tupac expired, Biggie knew his days were numbered, for this fake war was destined to end no other way. The last seven months of his life, despite releasing one of the best rap albums ever, was lived waiting to die by some idiot screaming “thug life” and putting a bullet in his back for no reason.

The greatest rapper who ever lived was shot dead in LA less than a year after Tupac was murdered. And just like that East vs. West was over. It’s one of the saddest, most senseless chapters in pop culture history, fueled by the mob mentality of total idiots. Biggie and Tupac were rap gods, once-in-a-lifetime talents, and we just wasted them away for nothing. It’s heart wrenching to think how Biggie lived the last few months of his life. Watch some interviews from that time. Biggie is in full-blown paranoia. He knows. And when he went out to LA to promote LIFE AFTER DEATH, he was being threatened in the malls and on the music channels. Many wonder why he didn’t just leave LA on the spot. Why would he? His senseless death was already written in the stars, whether it be LA, NYC, or Fargo.

’97 was my senior year in high school. We hit Lake George for Memorial Day Weekend after the Senior Dinner Dance. Notorious had just died. I remember a few friends from my school pulled up on the Strip in a red Mustang convertible at dusk. They parked outside the arcade across from Taco Bell, and cranked “Mo Money, Mo Problems,” and we all stood around the car, and that last verse, when Biggie raps, we were all singing along, “B-I-G-P-O-P-P-A . . . Tap my cell and the phone in the basement ... Step on stage, girls boo too much . . .” It was the only moment I remember from that weekend. Perhaps people would say it was best he went out on top. To compare, watching Eminem these last few years has been sad, I'll grant that, how he went from a revolutionary to making duets with that joke Rhianna. But at least he's alive. And Biggie's dead. Tragic. Senseless.

Read More: http://www.nypost.com/p/pagesix/notorious_grisly_autopsy_report_alYnOq6Ek4AGdA4O156GfI

Mo Money Mo Problems: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZ4tNmnuMgQ&feature=player_detailpage

Brian Huba
12/8/12