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Man Cave
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
When I first saw Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone, I was 18. It was the last time my parents took my 
little sister and me out to see a movie as a family. I hadn't read the books (still haven't). I wasn't into it. I considered it to be a kid's film and I — probably hungover — slept through most of the matinee. But when I heard that some of my buddies were going to be getting together to nerd out over this shiz, I knew it was time for my Hogwarts reboot.
The truth of the matter is, Harry Potter is very much a kid's film, complete with a pod race and everything. Also, I'm starting to wonder if any fantasy epic can exist without a prophesized "chosen one." Harry is simply the messianic descendant of Frodo, Neo, Luke Skywalker, dude from Dune and that young chick from Narnia. My apologies to the heads if these are out of order. Still, J.K. Rowling's version of Jedi powers are sorta badass in their own right. Harry's naive bravery and his buddies with unique skills are effectively nerdy in a way I can really appreciate.
Man On Wire was a different variety of wizardry. If you're unfamiliar with the British documentary about the French tightrope walker, check out City Paper's 2008 review. There's an encouraging dudeliness to Philippe Petit's patently illegal quests for high-altitude absurdity. Petit is the John Dillinger of high wire walking, and if you haven't seen his clutch appearance on The Colbert Report, cruise over to Colbert Nation. Then, stream the hell out of that docco on webflix.
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
This weekend, I found myself in North Carolina, where I enjoyed my very first Renaissance Faire. If you've never been to this type of liberal-arts mecca, the ren-faire is exactly what you'd expect, and then some. There were dozens of theatrical performances, including death-defying gymnastic jugglers and comedic storytellers. A number of troupes performed Medieval Period folk music. Knights plowed into each other with jousts while the crowd yelled for blood.
My favorite act was Zilch the Tory Steller, a fast-talking, mandolin-wielding Shakespearean who speaks mostly in spoonerism (you know, switching consonants, a la Jomeo and Ruliette). Let me be the first to say that those minstrels of yore had a filthy vocabulary, often draped in double- (and even triple-) entendre. Zilch's show and some others were rated "LC" — Loose Cannon, parental discretion advised!
Pennsylvania has one you can check out in August. It's out near Lancaster, which is a road trip in its own right. But if it's similar to the North Carolina model, it'll be a full day of good entertainment for around $20.
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Man Cave is a testosterone-dripping Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
Andre Wright, executive director of Give and Go Athletics (GGA), made a deal with one of his star athletes: 
Pass an upcoming school test, or lose the chance to play in a big game. Unfortunately, the test was not passed. Wright could have looked the other way and nobody would have known. But he wants the students in his program to know that Give and Go is bigger than basketball. Unfortunately, they lost the game and were out of the playoffs. But while the team may have lost, the community won.
This Saturday, I enjoyed a luncheon at Dave and Busters to benefit the program, which currently serves about 70 youths through North, South and West Philadelphia. GGA teaches fundamental basketball skills and provides kids with opportunities to play in leagues, tournaments and other after-school competitions. Founded in 2009 by Wright, who's also a guidance counselor at Ferguson Elementary, and Patricia Palermo, a clinical counselor at Reynolds Elementary, GGA encourages team-building, character development, goal-setting, academic accountability, anger management and social-skills building through basketball and mentorship.
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
Happy Halloween! Over the weekend I dipped into Mad River in Manayunk for its maximum-occupancy-defying costume party. But the bulk of my weekend was spent taking in some of my favorite horror-flicks.
Dead Alive — Some folks are still unaware that before Lord Of The Rings, director Peter Jackson was a 
gore-tastic zombie fiend. This cult-y gnaw-athon is my personal favorite zombie flick. If you're into priests who "kick ass for the Lord!" and gruesome lawnmower-slayings that could make Quentin Tarantino nauseous, this modestly hilarious bloodbath is for you. Make sure you get the unrated version. It's important.
The Omen — The tagline from this 1976 gem is "If something frightening happens to you today, think about it." What a groovy way to vaguely amp up the atmosphere of cinema terror. This tale about the coming of the antichrist features one of the scariest movie motifs in horror history: a young kid. The scary thing about a kid who grimaces at you and then you die in a terrible accident is that it could really happen. This is a stark contrast to most of the other films in this list.
Alien — Easily the scariest sci-fi flick ever made. By not showing you much of the monster for most of the film, the frights are less visual and more visceral. Get out of there, dude!!
Evil Dead 2 — If horror-comedy is indeed a cult, then this classic is the Kool-Aid punchbowl. One of the truly asinine films of the ages, Evil Dead 2 is perhaps the most classic film in cheese-terror history. Unlike its predecessor, which attempted more straight horror than comedy, and its successor, which attempted more comedy than horror, this movie is pure WTF.
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
I have to admit that Mad Men originally didn't grab me. That's probably because every time I would catch it, I would watch four minutes of a guy in a suit with a cigarette and whiskey staring into the distance before I moved on to more immediately gratifying entertainment options.
That said, the cultural importance of the philandering Don Draper and Sterling
Cooper advertising was growing to a point where I couldn't ignore it, and I decided to start the series on DVD. I got through the first two seasons in about a month, and this weekend I plowed through most of season three.
At first, Mad Men survives solely on its premise: a zoo exhibit of early '60s office-life. Against the backdrop of today, this unbelievably inappropriate workplace environment is just enough to keep you clicking "next episode" even without substantial character development or plot — both of which, in my opinion, are somewhat lacking until the end of the season. Thankfully, the show survives this narrative and the final episodes of the season really hooks you in.
Some of the Man Cave standouts in these first few seasons are the slick John Slattery (Roger Sterling) and the CurvaSaurus Rex Christina Hendricks (Joan Holloway). Elisabeth Moss (Peggy Olson) plays a more subtle, sympathetic young lady and Vincent Kartheiser (Pete Campbell) is great as a conniving junior executive.
Seasons two and three really churn it up with more extramarital affairs, some office outcasting of the ambitious Peggy, infertility of newlywed Pete Campbell, a trip to California where Don goes m.i.a. ... even MORE extramarital affairs ... and of course, enough whiskey and cigarettes to wake Humphrey Bogart from the dead and then kill him again.
The challenge is simply trying to pace yourself to get maximum enjoyment out of each episode, rather than scarfing the whole fourth season down like a Big Mac with fries. Sadly, I know how that plays out in my man cave. I'm not sure what it says about my personality that a TV show doesn't have to be great as much as addicting. Luckily, Mad Men is both.
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
Do you think the Savage brothers bicker about who had the better coming-of-age sitcom growing up? Sucks to be Ben! Boy Meets World was solid (and maybe funnier) but cheesy laugh tracks can't compete with the awkward adolescent nostalgia that comes from The Wonder Years. Not to mention my first crush, Winnie Cooper.
While TWY is not available on DVD — 
presumably due to soundtrack licensing issues (remember all those classic hits they used!) — Netflix has found a way to stream it instantly. I'm not asking any questions, I'm just spending my entire weekends marathoning the shit out of it, whole seasons at a time. This weekend I notched off the first two seasons, and boy are my eyes red with nostalgic man tears. Wayne was my horrible older brother made over, Paul was my nerdy best friend and Winnie the reason I started talking to girls in '88.
Season one (spoilers!) finds the gang about to start high school during the summer of 68. And Kevin and the Winnie actually kiss in Harper's Woods in this very first episode, which is part of the reason their ensuing high school career has a sexual tension you could cut with a plastic spork.
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
I spent the weekend absorbing comedian Patton Oswalt's new CD, Finest Hour. My feelings? It's not necessarily his funniest hour, but it's consistent with his hyper-literal, pop-cultural back catalog. And this time he's added some tales about his misadventures in parenting.
Oswalt — known for portraying the buddy in King of Queens and the voice of 
Remmy in Ratatouille — extols the virtues of sweatpants, singing alone in the car and Ambien dreams. He still touches on big-picture issues like religion and gay marriage, but unlike some of his previous efforts, he keeps those topics on the sillier side (i.e. a discussion about how Jesus' superpowers would fair in a comic book.)
Patton has definitely improved his word economy, which I personally have mixed feelings about. His jokes may be tighter, but Patton has always been unique in his ability to weave an enjoyably evocative tapestry of verbosity. Therefore, unlike most comics, a bloated word bureaucracy has always helped rather than hurt Patton's act. Now that he's stripped down, the material relies more on the sheer power of his premises, which, while they remain way above the national average, are not the best in his portfolio.
But that's fine with me, because most über-successful comics would face the onset of a family as vacation time. Patton, on the other hand, has incorporated his youngster into his work ethic and, keeping to his album per every two years schedule, achieved a solid CD that's worth plenty of laughs.
At Tower Theatre on Saturday, Primus played a two-hour-plus show featuring two sets and an encore. The first set was comprised of early-era songs, almost entirely from their first three albums. And the second was their new album, Green Naugahyde, in its entirety, followed by a two-song encore of "Here Come The Bastards" and "Pudding Time."
I caught up with guitarist Ler Lalonde for a brief chat.
CP: What does the future have in store for Primus?
LL: I’m hoping there are more albums. Over the last ten years we’ve done some touring, but I think the 
focus now is to try to move forward making records, not just go out and tour.
CP: How has the transition to Jay Lane on drums been for you guys?
LL: The transition to Jay Lane has been awesome. I consider it a very lucky type of thing. He’s a super cool guy, a great player and he’s really great to write with. You couldn’t ask for better aspects.
CP: How have your fans reacted to Green Naugahyde?
LL: It seems, oddly enough, every Primus record comes out and I think 'Oh, boy this is the one that nobody’s gonna get,' and sometimes it’s half-and-half. This is the first one that it seems everybody is able to grab on to. People seem to get it for some reason.
CP: This may be more of a question for Les, but is Jimmy MacDonagal and other characters in your songs based on real people, or are they completely conjured?
LL: To some extent, everything is based on some kind of real character or real incident, like "Bob," for example. The names are usually changed to protect the innocent.
CP: You were trained by Joe Satriani. Does he approve of all the odd sirens and other effects you get out of your guitar?
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
Montreal's Sam Roberts Band (SRB) bombarded the Electric Factory Friday night to open for Grace Potter and The Nocturnals. Playing a number of songs from their most recent disc Collider, SRB added saxaphonist Stuart D. Bogie, of Antibalas. The addition of sax avoids E-Street style, achieving just a smidgen of funk for what's otherwise the most straight-forward classic rock band of all the popular indie acts today. The first rockin' shuffle, "The Last Crusade," sets the tone for an album that attempts to shove humanity more aggressively down modernity's throat than any of their previous works.
"Longitude" is one of SRB's Canadian anthems, capturing both the general vibe of Canadian indie-rock as well as a lyrical aesthetic of life in the north. "Let the spirits lead us and the hunger feed us!" sings Roberts in a duet with Land of Talk's Elizabeth Powell.
"Streets of Heaven (Promises, Promises)" is a groovy big-picture reflection, reminding us "You're a drop in the ocean baby, don't drift away / You're just a body in motion baby, you're food for a day." "Heaven" offers the only bona fide sax solo on a record that probably has more sax hidden in the weave than standing out.
"I Feel You" is an emotional march with a zeal typical of Sam Roberts' hyperbolic sincerity. "All or nothing, love is war. Remember who you're fighting for!" The first single in Canada, "I Feel You" is definitely the "biggest" song on the album.
"I Feel You" is followed up by the album's climax, "The Band vs. The World." A different group would risk eye-rolls with its adolescent naivete (recalling their debut's impressively genuine mission statement, "Yes, I believe in Rock 'n' Roll, and I would die for Rock 'n' Roll!"). This anthem about the symbolic cleansing of a good summer rainstorm (a concept probably lost on most Philadelphians lately) is less adversarial and more unifying that its title suggests. "None of us are free till all of us are free!" sings Roberts on one of the most cathartic tracks on the album.
The Sam Roberts Band headlines North Star Bar on Fri., Dec. 2. For tickets, visit northstarbar.com.
Man Cave is a testosterone-laden Monday feature that highlights the weekend haps of a pop culture-loving Philly dude.
Tonight, if you're a subscriber to the DIY Network, House Crashers has teamed up with MLB to find the 
ultimate Phillies Fan, a title won by 38-year-old Center City realtor Johnny McDonald (pictured). In the episode, former Phillies pitcher Mitch Williams crashes Johnny's house to help him build the ultimate Phillies man cave. I asked Johnny — a Phillies fan from birth — what it was like working with Williams:
"Super cool! he is smart, funny and surprisingly talented in the construction trades. We hung out pretty much the entire time, he was literally swinging a hammer with me, both for demolition and to build. He and I took down a huge brick wall, with help from the Philly Phanatic, then we built these sweet planters in the garden. Maybe the best part about Mitch was that he brought over some of his wild-thing southpaw salsa. His recipe is insane!"
Johnny and Mitch also built a special keg elevator to keep the basement well stocked, as well as stadium seating in the backyard for those bigger BBQ gatherings. This is a pretty exciting Philly man-cave moment. The episode airs tonight at 8 p.m. on the DIY Network.
Photo: Johnathan Storm
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