Another crack-ah!

This move has since been banned . Imagine what Kid N Play could have done.

SURPRISE!!!!!

In absolutely stunning news, the MTA has announced that they are cancelling plans to build "Downtown's Grand Central." The New York Post's Steve Cuozzo has been all over this sad story from day one. No one who has followed the trials and tribulations of post-9/11 construction downtown should be surprised by this news.



But nor is anyone outraged. In today's apathetic political climate, the vast silent majority care nothing for issues big (Iraq) or local (Alan Hevesi winning an election despite corruption charges comes to mind). This allows our elected leaders to get away with doing absolutely nothing. George Pataki slithered out of office last year with Ground Zero still a massive hole in the ground. Nigh on 8 years later shouldn't Pataki be confronted with his colossal failure to build anything, a memorial, something, every single time he shows his face at a public event?



Of course, in New York State, our elected leaders can always pin the blame on our quasi-independent public authorities. It's a fair point, and worth discussing in the future. The main point for now is that $900 million will go down the drain without adding an inch of track to our subways. Dozens of viable small businesses who kept going through 9/11 were evicted, in the name of us, the public, in order to build the grand station you see above.



Now we will likely be left with a subway staircase attached to the side of a massive condo tower sold to a developer at a bargain rate. We all know that the only condos get built in this town. The 7-train extension to the far west side? The 2nd-avenue subway? the LIRR connection to Grand Central? Moynihan Station? The Freedom Tower? A 9/11 memorial?

Could the money earmarked for the unnecessary Fulton St. Hub have gone to speed up the MTA's myriad capital projects that make weekend subway travel confusing and long? We'll never know. And as long as our papers don't make these stories front-page news and as long as they don't ask the simple questions that can shed some light on Albany we'll continue to never know.

What a Crack-ah!

Live the Dream

Sorry America

Wranglers and a Banquet Beer Woulda kept him warm.

Hello America:

Terribly sorry about that game yesterday in Green Bay. The Giants overcame a phantom holding call on that Bradshaw TD. They overcame the collective will of Joe Buck and Troy Aikman. They overcame the collective will of every sportswriter and sports pundit. The Giants have prevented you all from enjoying two weeks of the Hyperbole-HyperBowl. Two weeks of slobbering over Brady's cleft chin, his dreamy eyes and that toussled hair that you just wanna run your hands through before collapsing into the surf at Provincetown, tummies full of chowder and a heart bursting with joy/lust but on the verge of breaking beacuse you know that a beauty like his cannot be contained by one lover, not even in one sportswriter, but it is a beauty that must be shared with the world. A beauty that should be nourished with SmartWater.

Two weeks of slobbering over that eternal 11-year old who snuck onto the field at Lambeau 14 years ago and never looked back. Two weeks of daydreaming about that Peter Pan running around carefree in your backyard in your safe, comfortable gated community, slinging passes in the snow that break fingers whilst clad only in snug wrangler jeans, k-mart boots and a Lee Fogerty shirt. Two weeks of dreaming that you were staring into that dazzling white smile worthy of Lawrence Welk wrapped in a mischevous smirk worthy of Dennis the Menace. That scamp. Two weeks of daydreaming of that eternal 11-year old replacing your own awkward, unworthy and grossly overweight sons who do nothing but sit around texting each other about getting more Mountain Dew and Elio's Pizza Bagels when not playing World of Warcraft or yanking it to Hannah Montana.

Sorry football fans who were looking forward to cheering for the All-American Heartland Pack against Dr. Evil and the Hateriots. Sorry Peter King. Sorry Bill Simmons. Sorry Tuesday Morning Quarterback. Sorry Dr. Z. Sorry Chris Berman. Sorry Joe Buck. Sorry Troy Aikman. Now you gotta cheer for a New York team, for beer that's sold 24 hours a day, for alcohol that's not sold from a state-run ABC store, for booze sold on Sundays, for fast-talking 47th St. Photo and not Best Buy, for San Loco not Chipotle, for a schmear of lox on bagels and for Seinfeld. Sorry if you're resentful over New York City's dominance of the media. Sorry if you just plain don't trust big cities what with their mechanized forms of underground transport where you can't pick up Rush Limbaugh on the AM dial. Sorry the Super Bowl won't be one big Aw-Shucks Dream-White-Boy Circle Jerk.

Hey, there's still Tom Petty at halftime.