If you haven’t heard of Sondre Lerche (LER-key), then don’t worry, I won’t judge you. I’m mean today, but I’m not that mean. I really recommend that you give him a listen though. Perhaps you’ve already heard him without knowing it: Lerche scored last year’s Steve Carrell-driven Dan in Real Life, and offered some lovely tunes to its soundtrack. The best way to describe him would probably be a modern-day Cole Porter, if Cole Porter were Norwegian, looked 12 but was really 27, and liked to break stuff. I know—awesome, right? He’s also totally dreamy, in that I-just-want-to-take-you-home-and-make-you-a-sandwich-because-you-just-always-look-hungry way. But, um, for us deep, dedicated listeners with substance, that doesn’t really matter.

So let’s get the tough part over with first. Opening act Sylvie Lewis arrived on stage to little clamor. Of course, being an unknown singer-songwriter, one can’t really expect much rousing applause upon one’s entrance, but Lewis was especially reserved, to the point where no one knew she was Sylvie Lewis until she broke into her spoken-word introduction. Oh yes, I did say spoken word. It had something to do with birds and windows and the repetition of the phrase “tell them, tell them” (WHAT do you want me to tell them?!), but pretty much all spoken word has to do with that crap. Even though I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this sort of opening, her intro somehow seemed like it had been done before. The fact that she forgot what she was saying mid-poem didn’t help matters.

So anyway, out walks Ms. Lewis, in a light blue sweater and jeans (on a separate note, I really really really don’t like patches on jeans), and the first words out of my mouth as I turn to my friend Kelly (what up Kelly!) are “she looks like a regular person.” And boy do I love me some regular folk. The second set of words out of my mouth is “I like her already.” That, unfortunately, very quickly changed. Her songs seemed either very contrived or very nonsensical (though not in the Tenacious D way, in the bad way), with titles like “Old Queens, Monet and Me,” about, as she described, crying to gay men about the destruction of one of her relationships. That is not nice. To make matters worse, when she realized she was tanking with the audience, she busted out an “Obama won, guys,” which sounded like a half-assed ploy to get her largely Democratic audience to actually cheer for once. Way to jump on the Bam-wagon, lady. That was mean, I know. Brown curse, blah blah. If you’re into blonde, quirky female folk singers, I’d say to check out Charlotte Martin instead, who opened for Lerche a few years ago.

Before I go into my review of Lerche’s set, I should say that I’ve got a little bit of history with the man. I’ve seen him live every year for the past four years, and we’ve had our ups and downs, Sondre and me. I’ve followed him to Irving Plaza, to the sweaty, cramped corner of a Williamsburg record shop (he was performing, I was not stalking him), to the Union Square Barnes & Noble, and to an Urban Outfitters in the West Village (he was not performing, I was stalking him). This set was, without question, an up.

Our view was fantastic, mostly because I made sure to shove Kelly to the front of the stage once doors opened. Lerche hopped onstage with his hands in his pockets like a boyish, mischievous Mr. Rogers, picked up an acoustic guitar, and launched into an up-tempo brand-new gem called “Heart Break Radio.” Any doubts I had that this solo performance would be lacking—Lerche typically plays with a fantastic backup band known as The Faces Down—were quickly erased. Even a rude, annoying drunk heckler who felt the need to repeatedly badger the performer with “funny” comments about Swedes– who, apparently, are the Norwegians’ sworn enemies—couldn’t ruin an astonishingly lively set. Lerche switched between an acoustic and a bright-blue electric guitar, which he played the hell out of. Don’t believe me? Check out one of his many rad guitar solos, which I was lucky enough to get on tape.

Insane, no? The song’s called “Airport Taxi Reception.” Most of the solos lasted even longer than this one, convincing my fellow concertgoers and I that this experience was worth the hour-long wait (Though, Madonna, I have a bedtime and a job. Maybe next time we start when we say we’re going to?) and the beyond-reasonable ticket price. His clever banter and genuine appreciation for New York City (Lerche proudly announced at the end of his first song that it was “good to be home”) was charming, and his passionate thank-you to the country for “electing the right guy,” followed by a sly comment about his uncooperative guitar apparently supporting McCain, outdid Lewis’s unenthusiastic hoo-rah. Lerche even apparently picked up on my foul mood early on in the performance, dedicating “Everyone’s Rooting For You” to anyone in need of some good cheer. This throwback to the days of Chet Baker features an opening line of “Don’t be ridiculous sweet darlin’/It’s so unlike you to be blue/You had them the moment you walked in/And everyone’s rooting just for you.” I know! Adorable! And that’s coming from me! Me!

Lerche continued the cuteness with a rendition of a fan favorite called “Modern Nature,” from his debut album Faces Down (random fact: Lerche makes a cameo in Dan in Real Life singing this very song with original partner Lillian Samdal). Usually, since he performs this ditty solo whilst touring, Lerche relies on the audience to sing Samdal’s part, and we always oblige (yes, we, as in I participate). This time though, he saw it fit to drag Sylvie Lewis out. Whatevs man, I still sang along.

The only real downside for me was a new song called “Like Lazenby,” about Lerche’s wish to be just like the man who once played James Bond. Really, though, unless you’re Kanye West, you shouldn’t be name-checking in your songs. That could just be a personal preference though.

One of the coolest things about the show was the merchandise. Lerche personally burned and signed enough copies of an EP called “Pumpkin Polaroid Party”– containing demos for six new songs—for the entire audience. In addition, each EP contained a Polaroid picture taken either by Lerche or of him (I got a very cute one of him standing in front of a picture of the new Senate on Election Day). This was no small feat; the decently-sized venue was packed with fans, and while Lerche isn’t yet a sensation in the States, he does have a significant following in the US.

One of the most embarrassing things about the show was my behavior. While chatting up Sondre, I tore open my EP envelope and watched the color drain from his face. Kelly later informed me that I had torn off the song list so it was unreadable.

Sorry, dude. Sorry I ruined the EP you made just for me. Blame it on the curse, for I know not what I do.

I never realized how messed up that song was, considering it included Snoopy, beloved  by children everywhere. Now, I know a few things: Snoopy often imagined himself in dogfights atop his doghouse, and this was alluded to in the strip. I also know that Schultz had nothing to do with this song (though after a lawsuit obtained the rights to all royalties from it). Still, I thought I’d point out a few interesting points.

In the predecessor to this song, Snoopy and the Red Baron , we learn that 80 men died trying to end the streak of Baron Von Richthofen. And it was true that this German held that record. But in the first verse of this fun happy song, we learn “they’re buried together in the countryside.” That means all of his victims were in a mass grave. That’s not only historically inaccurate, it’s just a little dark. Ultimately in that first installment, Snoopy is shot down, goes to the Great Pumpkin for help, and then returns to the skies to shoot down the Baron. Forget Dave Petreaus, the all-knowing military strategist we need to be consulting is a gourd.

Anyway, the Baron lives to fly again, returning for a special holiday-themed version of the same basic song. In this version, Snoopy sucks wind and almost gets shot. But the Christmas bells ring out below, and the Baron has a moment of kindheartedness, making Snoopy land on the other side of the Rhine, “behind enemy lines.” The song ponders why the Red Baron had Snoopy in his sights and didn’t shoot. I too would be slightly hesitant as well to waste bullets on a cartoon dog when the combined allied air forces were after me. Even if that cartoon dog did shoot me down once before.

So Snoopy lands, and the Baron wishes him “Merry Christimas Mein Friend.” This of course, in an awful German accent that sounds more like a bad impression of a Pakistani accent. This villan then  audibly pops a bottle and toasts Snoopy. That’s right, this villain who had killed 80 allied pilots and the cartoon dog shared a drink, and then got back into their planes to go kill other pilots.

So in case you haven’t heard, star receiver Plaxico Burress—who caught the pass that made the New York Giants Super Bowl Champions last February—shot himself in the thigh (ok, the thigh, but still), thereby probably ending his season and possibly ending his entire football career. As a massive fan of Big Blue, I can’t help but be extremely disappointed in one of the most talented players this team and game have ever seen.

Still, even that won’t stop me from making a cheap joke.

Update 2.2 promises some nice things for the iPhone user. The first thing that I noticed was Safari was a little different. The address and search bar are on the same line similar to how Safari looks on my computer.

The next thing I really noticed was the Maps App. Now when you go to look up directions, you can get walking directions (very handy when walking through the city. I could have used this last year). You can also get mass transit schedule/directions which I find very cool. I just did a test from work back to my apartment and showed me where to get the bus, where I would transfer, and when where the destination will take me along with times for the next available bus and I can also see the schedule for the rest of the day. Again, I imagine this would be really awesome in the city.

Another great thing that I look forward to playing with later is the ability to download podcasts right on the phone. I enjoy a podcast or two, but I am not one that syncs my phone everyday, and as a result, I end up with a lot of podcasts not being enjoyed. However, now that I can download them right to my phone, I may find myself listening to podcasts while driving everywhere. I can’t wait to test this out in the car. Now I’m off to find a good Podcast…

For full details on the update, visit Apple.com

________________________________________________________________________

A few iPhone Products from our sponsors you might enjoy:

Excalibur 153 SoundMaster(tm) Wireless Shower Speaker for iPod:

Monster iCarPlay FM Transmitter for iPhone:

Griffin Microfiber Case for iPhone:

In the 1920s, Macy’s Department store started what is now a Thanksgiving day tradition. Houses across the US tune in two watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade, even if it’s just on in the background while the family begins its Turkey Preparations. The parade has come to symbolize the celebration of family, and the subliminal message of holiday shopping. Well, maybe not too subliminal since the parade is the “Macy’s” Thanksgiving Day Parade, and goes by their big store in NYC. And at the end of the Parade, Santa comes riding in on his sleigh to remind us all that after today when the stores reopen tomorrow, that the Christmas shopping season has begun.

In the world of retail, seasons and holidays always seem to come months before the event. As soon as Halloween was over, Christmas decorations and merchandise were already going up. For people like my sister who watch their shopping budget, the shopping begins before the leaves even turn colors. Until recently, I used to wait until the week before Christmas to do all my shopping. But I guess when you are single and don’t have a lot of people to shop for, it makes more sense. Now, even I contemplate the early shopping. But no matter how early the Christmas season seems to start every year, there is one day that will never move, BLACK FRIDAY.

However, this year I have noticed something new. Maybe it’s been there for a while and I’m just noticing it now, or maybe stores are trying to build the hype. This year I have noticed reports of Black Friday ads being leaked from places like Circuit City, Radio Shack and Best Buy. And with the economy the way that it is, some stores (Circuit City) are hanging on by a thread, and Black Friday is just the ticket to pull them out. Now, I am no longer averse to going to the store on Black Friday (or stay at home and shop online), but there is no way I am getting up early to go to the store on my day off. In fact, getting me to the store before lunch would be a miracle. But the real question is, what is it about Black Friday that will make people get out of bed at 3 AM when they normally groan about getting up at 6 or 7 Am for their job, go out in the cold of night when they hate the cold, stand in a line and then encounter this…

For what, so save $50 on a toy, or a DVD player? Yes, I like to save money, and love finding great deals on products (especially electronics) but nothing would make me get up this early for a piece of plastic with some wires in it. Further more, events like this betray the Christmas spirit and the whole reason we came to the store in the first place. We aren’t out shopping for ourselves (or at least we shouldn’t be) we are out shopping for the people in our lives that mean something. And we are there to get them a gift that shows them that we care about and cherish them. But when I look around and see that Black Friday is only about the consumer in us, then I have to say that it, more than other holiday, is the most American. It is the capitalist holiday that wants us to get out of our warm beds, dress for a snow storm, kiss our loved ones good-bye, and head out for battle against our neighbors for the last 42″ LCD that we are buying for our kids bedroom that doesn’t even have a wall big enough to put the TV on.

In this last week leading up to Black Friday, slow your role, and think about it before you head out. Wouldn’t you rather sleep in and have a nice breakfast with the family and enjoy the day off. And then, if you really want to take advantage of the sales, go out after lunch when all the crazy people have gone home. Sure, it will still be crowded, and maybe the stock pile has gone down somewhat, but there will still be things to buy, and sales to be had. Happy Shopping Everyone!

————————————————

One of our partners, Champs Sports, has already sent us their Black Friday Special: More to come soon!

Last week in the midst of my web wanderings, I was inspired by an old advertisement that I read. Yes, I was inspired by an advertisement. Actually, anyone who knows me at all should not be surprised that I, paragon of character depth that I am, would be inspired by an advertisement. I’ve also been known to be inspired by tea bags, fortune cookies, the homeless, The Incredible Journey, country music and a squirrel outside of my window.

Of course, this is not just any advertisement. This was once voted as the greatest advertisement of all time. See, the story goes like this: Caddy had a new model out, which had some dependability issues (imagine that). Since reliability has been Cadillac’s USP (unique selling proposition), Packard was successfully increasing their sales by making a hoopla about the about quality issues in the press. Cadillac responded with the ad, only run once in the Saturday Evening Post January 2, 1915. The Brilliant copywriter Theodore MacManus (a fellow scot) wrote an triumphantly inspiring ad that never once mentioned Cadillac. It was successful because true or not, we all think of ourselves as leaders, bogged down by the critics, nay-sayers, haters, ill-wishers, guff-givers, armchair quarterbacks, worst-episode-everers and the IRS.

THE PENALTY OF LEADERSHIP

In every field of human endeavor, he that is first must perpetually live in the white light of publicity. Whether the leadership be vested in a man or in a manufactured product, emulation and envy are ever at work. In art, in literature, in music, in industry, the reward and the punishment are always the same. The reward is widespread recognition; the punishment, fierce denial and detraction. When a man’s work becomes a standard for the whole world, it also becomes a target for the shafts of the envious few. If his work be mediocre, he will be left severely alone - if he achieves a masterpiece, it will set a million tongues a-wagging. Jealousy does not protrude its forked tongue at the artist who produces a commonplace painting. Whatsoever you write, or paint, or play, or sing, or build, no one will strive to surpass or to slander you unless your work be stamped with the seal of genius. Long, long after a great work or a good work has been done, those who are disappointed or envious, continue to cry out that it cannot be done. Spiteful little voices in the domain of art were raised against our own Whistler as a mountback, long after the big would had acclaimed him its greatest artistic genius. Multitudes flocked to Bayreuth to worship at the musical shrine of Wagner, while the little group of those whom he had dethroned and displaced argued angrily that he was no musician at all. The little world continued to protest that Fulton could never build a steamboat, while the big world flocked to the river banks to see his boat steam by. The leader is assailed because he is a leader, and the effort to equal him is merely added proof of that leadership. Failing to equal or to excel, the follower seeks to depreciate and to destroy - but only confirms once more the superiority of that which he strives to supplant. There is nothing new in this. It is as old as the world and as old as human passions - envy, fear, greed, ambition, and the desire to surpass. And it all avails nothing. If the leader truly leads, he remains - the leader. Master-poet, master-painter, master-workman, each in his turn is assailed, and each holds his laurels through the ages. That which is good or great makes itself known, no matter how loud the clamor of denial. That which deserves to live - lives.

The ad was resurrected in 1967 and mailed on scrolls to Caddy owners — including one Elvis Presley. He immediately had it framed and it hung in his office. In fact, it’s still hanging on the wall in Graceland for visitors to appreciate today.

Recently, we’ve gotten a modern-day reminder of just how not that fun these pirates can be. As I was driving to work today, I heard a report that pirates had hijacked a tanker with over 100 million dollars worth of oil (about 2 million barrels). They were able to overpower the crew of 25 and take hold of this massive ship. The tanker, the Sirius Star, is a Saudi boat, one of the biggest of its kind. It’s 1,080 feet long — that’s longer than the Chrysler building if it were laid on its side. At first I was shocked that they could overtake such a large vessel, but after discovering how enormous the boat was, I was shocked that they had a crew of only 25 aboard. With a crew of that size, they could easily be overtaken by sea gulls.

Now these guys are floating around on an island of oil. There is not much that they can do with it, they don’t have the equipment to pump it out, and not sure anyone would buy it. However, they could destroy the precious cargo, torching the oil and causing incomprehensible environmental damage. For this reason, like all of the other countries that have been victims of these Somali Swashbucklers, they are probably going to play ball. What’s a million bucks to a bunch of crazy kids to make sure your 150 million dollar boat loaded up with 100 million dollars worth of oil is returned safely? It’s like buying lemonade from the neighborhood kids. You’re driving through their block, you have to play along.

Big ups to the Indians — instead of pussy-footing around, they just up and blew up a pirate ship before it could do any damage. That’s the decisive action I want to see. I say anyone wearing an eyepatch, peg-leg, 3-pointed hat or Scimitar should be shot on sight.

But really, there is only one solution to the problem. Send a boatload of wisecracking parrots around the Cape of Good Hope. No pirate can resist a wisecracking parrot. I’m not sure what will happen next, but I’m sure it would be hilarious.

a. be the fruitcake my parents insist everyone loves
b. contain some piece that could lead to a choking hazard and lead to a recall (sorry kids, I don’t make the toys, I just buy them, albeit begrudgingly) or;
c. suck.

Nope, this holiday is all about massive Charlie Brown floats (Macy’s parade, what what!), football (Don’t you hate those tools who never help out with the dishes because they’re too busy watching the game? I’ll be one of those tools this year.), and the actual giving of some thanks. So, instead of dropping some actual knowledge on ya’ll (I don’t think you’re ready for that jelly), I decided to be really selfish (but also, hopefully, a little entertaining) by giving you Shibow’s Reasons to Love Thanksgiving.

1. This:

2. It forces you to you know, like, think and whatever. At least in does in my family. Even though my post thus far has made me sound as if I hate everyone and everything—which may or may not be true—I actually appreciate the whole “Let’s go ’round the table and each name something we’re thankful for” bit. It’s kind of nice. But if anyone asks, I didn’t write that. Someone swooped in and edited this post to make it seem like I had a soul.

3. Bollywood’s got nothin’ on us. Ok, maybe they do, but still. Since I’ve officially graduated to amused spectator, I can now enjoy the annual Kollappallil kids Thanksgiving performance. It has, over the years, gone from being a straightforward, historically inaccurate history of the holiday, complete with construction paper pilgrim hats and Native American feathers to, most recently, a (maybe more accurate) talk show featuring a belligerent turkey. Kids these days are so creative. Oh—sidebar— if any of my family members are reading this, keep whatever photos you may have of a decked out Pilgrim Shibow TO YOURSELF, or you will pay. (NOTE: AAVR Magazine will pay for these photos -Ed. )

4. See below.

Believe it or not (if you’re the unlucky fella I attempted to bake this for last year, you fall into the “or not” category, but we all make mistakes, hater), I made this pie . That’s my stove top and everything. I swear. I’ve made this pie many times, and it’s come out looking like the above (meaning freaking perfect) exactly twice, which should explain why I felt a photo op was necessary. Meringue is just not as easy as my girl Nigella Lawson makes it out to be.

Yeah, I’ll admit it: I’m a baker. What of it? I’m that chick from Grey’s Anatomy (not that I watch that… I just hear stuff). You know that chick—the annoying, outspoken speech-y blond chick who cranks out muffins whenever she’s had a bad day in the ER. Yeah. I’m that girl. And this is my day.

5. I get to be selfish. Did I mention that already? Well, whatever, it’s all about me anyway. Basically, now I get to bombard you with a list of things I’m thankful for:

a. This. Because a little shameless plugging never hurt anyone.

b. Kanye West. Because when I don’t want to be me, I can just Be Kanye.

c. Justin Colby [is currently editing this post and may have inserted himself into this list].

d. Important stuff which I refuse to elaborate on, mostly because I will stop writing if I find out one of my posts elicited an “awww” from someone.

e. The Book of Sheda (as in Sheda Brown, my one phone call, should the need for a bail-out ever arise). This is a publication that is not yet available to the general public, but will be once I hit the jackpot/marry Warren Buffett. The teachings of Sheda have helped me through many a rough patch, including, but not limited to, a recent falling out I had with a [and you call yourself a] friend. Included:

“I’d tell him, you’ve got problems. If I had a car, I’d probably walk outside and find you keyin’ it up.”

“I’m not crazy because you say I’m crazy, I’m crazy because I know I’m crazy.”

“You need to buy him a dress in his size.”

“This is not Jenny Jones.”

“I wish somebody would just roll me home.” Indeed, Sheda. Indeed.

Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a meringue to perfect.

As AAVR Magazine has grown, we’ve been enjoying traffic from all over the world. Recently, we’ve noticed that that we’ve been receiving visitors from Chinese search engine Baidu. We hope that our discourse is okay by the government of the People’s Republic of China, and if it isn’t, contact us. We’ll gladly fall in line to be named official glorious paper-free magazine of the People’s Republic of China and associated territories including Taiwan and Hong Kong.

Zai Jain!

Joe The Plumber

I guess sometimes, it’s about being in the right place at the right time. Now, I am certain that Joe Wurzelbacher (you might know him by his nom de plume, Joe The Plumber) is a driven, god-fearing, decent guy. Seriously. I’m not going to demonize him. But, he is one lucky son of a gun. Just by showing up to a rally and speaking up, this guy is going to check off half of my bucket list:

- be a country music star

- be on TV

- Have a mafioso-style nickname (my nickname in my old neighborhood, blanquito, doesn’t count)

- Write a book that someone actually reads

That’s right, my boy Joe wrote a book. I’m going to give him the free promotion, because I’m sure he’ll do the same for me on his web site when I write my book. (yes, I know that’s not actually him)