Results tagged “music” from SPRG09JR608 Interactive News Cesidio Pinciaro

This is the time of year for me when a lot of quality reading that I usually get done - news, leisure reading, school reading - gets replaced with an obscene amount of statistical numbers and random names that results in something a lot of people can't quite understand: Fantasy Baseball.

For those unaware, fantasy baseball is a game - usually played amongst a number of friends in groups of 8-12 - where real players are "drafted" by single teams. They pick an entire roster and whoever drafts the best team (the team whose players have the best statistics) and keeps it up throughout the year wins the league, and usually a decent pot of cash that each team wagers at the beginning of the year.

So in the midst of the fantasy baseball season, I decided to throw myself a simulated Allston Fantasy Draft. I guess the only statistic the league would have would be "Allstonness," though the ambiguity of that term is scary. Define it at your own risk. 

Based on the few months I've lived there, here's the first round of a mini 4-team draft. Subjects available to draft include people, places, and objects. (Almost included ideas, but then the concept of "Allstonness" gets really heady):

1. The Linden Superette: The place I get my paper every morning.
   
• Guy behind the counter (during the day) never takes his right hand out of his jacket pocket, creating the illusion of holding a pocket pistol.
• Guy behind the counter (at night) will jokingly try to sell your girlfriend a $16 porn that comes with 2 DVD's. But he isn't joking.
  
• Woman who works afternoons chases the cat around the store with a roll of paper towels when it misbehaves.
• Children of the owners can sometimes be found sleeping on the floor behind the counter.
  
2. The Paradise: Music club on Comm. Ave; threateningly close to B.U.
   
• Great place to see a show. The Brew is coming around 4/18. Be there if you like good live music!
  
• If you're really feeling "Allston" 16 oz. Pabst Blue Ribbons are $3.50 I believe.
  
3. Stickers: Trite ways of expressing ones' self.
   
• Cars, street signs, electrical boxes, telephone poles, traffic lights, midgets...if it's under 6'4" and it's public property, someone in Allston has tagged it with a sticker.
  
• I guess Shepherd Fairey is onto something...
• With the #3 pick, "bumper stickers" could be an early candidate for pick of the draft.
  
4. Marty's Liquors: 
• Well with the recent accusations coming against Blanchard's, Marty's could be well prepared to have a huge Allston fantasy year in 2009. 
• More often than not there's someone hanging around the entrance asking for change. This is usually annoying, but I saw one guy throw his plastic cup at someone for ignoring him when I was there last week. Not your average bums outside Marty's.
• Employees are knowledgable and friendly.
  

Oh that's right...this guy went to an Allston basement party. A random one. One where I knew nobody except the people I came with. Well, that and a couple people in the band that was playing.




A couple of my friends - the bass and tenor sax player - in the ska band Big Lick played at a party in Lower Allston on Saturday night.  Five bands played about 50-minute sets a piece in this random house on Franklin St. And though it was only a five minute walk from my house, it seemed like I stepped into another world for a few minutes.

Here's a short list of things at the party that reminded me why I don't understand Allston:

• Everyone in the audience - except the people I came with - was wearing one shade of black, white, or gray. I felt like I was in the first ten minutes of the Wizard of Oz.
• Pabst Blue Ribbon. Everywhere. I still don't get understand the obsession with this beer. I brought a couple Sam Adams White Ales and felt so out of place cracking them I briefly thought about keeping them in my pockets and waiting until I got back to apartment to drink them. But like I said, that thought was brief. Very brief.
• Mosh pits....oh yeah. Multiple. I didn't see those coming (and luckily I kept my balance), and I guess I wasn't entirely surprised, but I've seen these guys play about a handful of times and that was the first mosh pit I've seen. I would have taken a picture but I like my camera.
• Mohawk. HUGE ONE. If you put your hands flat and place them together (unless you're Shaq), this guy's mohawk was bigger. Funny thing is he wasn't even at the party...we passed him when were almost back at my apartment after the show. I mentioned it to my buddy in the band - he stayed a little after we left - and he was like, "Yeah, I saw that guy!"

My friend Seb, the sax player (with the glasses), described it as the "rawest" show he's ever played. And he said that before he even got there. As you can see from the pic, the setting is quite raw...note the "if someone takes one bad step, this place could ignite like Great White is on stage" wiring in the background.