The RRU and Religious Rap

The car I drive at work, "Unit 4", did not originate with me. For that reason, I cannot be responsible for all the programmed radio stations that it contains. Once my first- and second-string stations go to commercial, I start pushing buttons until I come across something I can handle (assuming I don't want to switch over to the arsenal of CDs, including Zakk Wylde's early Pride and Glory album... if you've never heard it, check this track out, it'll blow your mind. A banjo in a metal song? No way.) But I digress...

So I'm punching buttons on the radio until I find something manageable. But after a few minutes go by, I start to listen to the music and say "Wait... What station is this?" The positive, loving nature of the seemingly hard rock is confusing me and making me feel uncomfortable. Upon further investigation, I once again discover that I have stumbled upon The Fish, Sacramento's religious music station. "Damn you, Fish! You fooled me again!" I proclaim as I skid off the road and search for a real rock station.

Yes, religion has tried to rear its ugly head into all aspects of life, including rock and/or roll (everybody knows that all the best bands have already signed with Satan). But I was shocked and appalled when the following link was sent to me, displaying in all its glory what has become known as "religious rap":

Yes, promoting the "Christian Side Hug" (in order to help prevent the "risk of two crotches touching"), this group has blasted onto the scene, claiming religious rap as their own.

I don't care about their message... No, what really upsets me is that these clowns claim to be the pioneers of religious rap, when everyone knows that religious rap originated with a little group called The Rocky Road Underground.

If you're unaware of their back story, you should get caught up before we continue.

Anyway, everybody knows that Rabbi Rap was the origin of religious rap, and to prove it, I have published a (very) rough cut of something I started to cobble together years ago but never got around to finishing... a documentary on the legendary Rocky Road Underground. So here's a little clip from that failed experiment...

With a little luck, this will spark my interest once again, and perhaps one day the world will finally see a completed version of "The Rocky Road Underground: Behind the Money". But I've said that before... so don't hold your breath.

At the very least, I may release a book of motivational quotes from singer Seamus McGoy.

Losing Streak

Lately, I seem to have a knack for betting on the wrong horse. At least in person.

First, my Ducks go down to an unranked team in an embarrassing defeat.

The following night, I go to see my hometown Warriors take on the not-so-good Sacramento Kings (by way of $10 seats). Turns out the Kings are on a "hot streak", despite losing a few key players. Again, I am crushed.

To make up for it, I head out on the town with some pals and... lose a game of Battleship to some chicks at a bar. I am humiliated.

So when the offer came across the table to go to another Kings game, I had to think twice about it. I didn't know if I could handle another blow to the ol' ego, but the tickets were free, compliments of the station's cross-promotion with the Kings and the TV show Glee. I figured I couldn't argue with free tickets, so I put on my Kings hat and headed out. Turns out the seats were a whole hell of a lot better than the $10 ones. However, that just meant that I was able to see my newly adopted team get their asses kicked from up close.

One thing's for sure... I ain't headed to Vegas any time soon. At least not until this losing streak finds an end (hopefully before the Ducks go to the Rose Bowl!).

Not all of us at the game were losers though. A certain mustached tape-about-town was seen hanging on the court after the game with Glee actor Matthew Morrison. I've never watched the show, so I've got no idea who he is, but Alfonzo was a fan, and the two got along swimmingly.

Movin' the Dumpty

Humpty Dumpty sat on a mound of grass amidst the UC Davis campus.

Humpty Dumpty had to be moved because they were building a new law school.

All of Davis' horses and all of Davis' men...

Couldn't put Humpty Dumpty on a stupid steel pole atop a mound of dirt before I had to get to my next story.

I'm sure your bizarre egg statue looks great in its new location. Try sticking to your schedule next time, and perhaps our viewers will get to see a glimpse of it.

The Great Stanford Heartbreak

Coming off of a big-time USC ass kickin' last week, the Oregon Ducks were ready to huff it on down to Palo Alto and offer up a similar helping to Stanford and that stupid dancing tree mascot of theirs. I sure as heck wasn't about to miss out on this, as I love me a good ass kickin', so I hopped aboard the Sactown alumni party bus and we rocked all the way down to the bay.



With a crew 75 strong, we set up shop and brought a lil' bit of Autzen's notorious drunken numbskullery to the fine folks of Palo Alto. We drank some beer...

...talked some sports...

...and yelled at some stupid Stanford fans...

Oh yes, we had a powerhouse team, and we were ready to start kickin' some ass!! If these stupid Stanford fans only knew what they were in for! Woo!!!

So how'd the game go? Well... not good.

Turns out Stanford showed up to play today, and Oregon's defense... well... they didn't. It was embarrassing. It was painful. It was a 51-42 heartbreak. Damn you Stanford, and your stupid dancing tree.

It was time to drown our sorrows and pain. On the bright side, we did have a party bus to return to!

We drank some more beers, yelled at some more Stanford fans...

...and hey, even Green Man showed up to wallow in our misery.

It was a long 3 hour bus ride back to Sac. Oh well, at least it wasn't pissing down rain like last year's Bay Area loss.

And we're still #1 in the Pac-10! Well, for now, anyway. So long as that holds out, there just might be another Ducks adventure in the Photocalypse forecast.

The San Diego Adventure

Thursday nights have become something special here in the Sactown media market. It started out with two local photogs going to a late night pizza joint every Thursday night for a few beers. They invited a few friends, who invited a few friends, and over the past few months "media night" has grown and thrived. Nothing more than grabbing a few beers with local newsies, often representing every station in the market. It's always a good time.

Last Thursday, as I prepared to venture out into the night and make my obligatory appearance at Media Night, my work phone started to ring. "A caller, at this hour?!" I exclaimed as I glanced at the clock that was ticking towards midnight. Caller ID declared that it was my station's EP, who I assumed was lost on his way to the festivities. So I answered...

"There's been a plane crash in San Diego. Can you be at the station at 4 AM?"

Being told I was the only option, I was left with no other option. I was gonna be starting my day in a few hours, and it was gonna be a long one. I phoned the crew to inform them of my sudden unavailability and headed to bed, desparately trying to scrounge a few hours of sleep.

None came, and before I knew it, my alarm was blaring and my day was beginning, without a minute of sleep.

So I headed to the station, grabbed my gear and reporter, and headed on over to the Sacramento Airport. You see, the evening before, a military helicopter collided with a Coast Guard plane over the ocean. The plane was stationed out of Sacramento and was down South searching for a missing boater. 7-9 people were missing, and the search was on.

As soon as our plane landed, we grabbed our gear, hopped a cab, and literally ran to our first live shot, an 8:45 hit at the end of the morning show over at the Coast Guard station. It was gonna be a long day.

Now, I'd never been to San Diego before (and all knowledge of its media market was based off of a movie I saw some time ago), but from what I saw through my bleary sleep-deprived eyes, it seemed quite lovely.

The day rolled on, the hits came every few hours, and the press conferences were ample. Hopes were high that these folks would be found, and they weren't about to give up anytime soon.

As the day wore on, my sleep deprived mind became lost in a haze of confusion. By 3 PM, as I was driving the rental car through a city I'd never before seen in desperate search for food or some sort of sustenance, I realized that I could barely understand what my sidekick reporter was yammering about. We grabbed some tacos, headed back, and I collapsed in the back of the rental car for a solid 30 minute power nap. Following that, I suddenly became surprisingly more coherent, and the live shots continued.

By that evening, our San Diego sister station had gone through three crews- morning show, dayside and nightside- in the time that we had been there. Also one of our tape-to-tape decks died on us, but all in all, things went surprisingly smoothly (especially compared to previous out of town work trips). By 11, we were finally done with our 20 hour day.

We crashed hard at a nearby hotel, and come 7 AM, we were on our way back to Sacramento. A whirlwind adventure and a test of endurance. Am I glad I did it? Eh, sure. Makes for a good adventure and a fine story. Still, I can't help but wonder what would have happened if I had shown up to Media Night on time rather than trying to be fashionably late...

Halloween and Such

As adulthood has dawned upon me, I have come to realize that Halloween, much like most other holidays (New Year's Eve, St. Patrick's Day, heck... even Christmas) is just an excuse for "grown-ups" to get drunk and act like fools. Don't get me wrong, as I'm not complaining... I'm just sayin' that it ain't the night of glee and whimsey that it once was.

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Now chicks, they got the costume thing easy. They can take anything and slutty it up a bit, and nobody complains. A slutty cop, a slutty pirate, I even saw a slutty bumblebee (explain that one to me).

Dudes have to be a little more creative. The most popular of the night was my pal's Silent Bob get-up (left):

Other costumes we came upon ranged from the hilarious...

to the kinda gross...

to the just plain wrong...

Mine was sort of a combination of all three, as I donned a stereotypical Oakland Raiders fan costume:

If you don't get it, you've never been to an Oakland Raiders game.

Another year, another Halloween filled with drunken debauchery. Ah, the holidays!