Frazzamatazz!

Kids, the discontent continues. Perhaps the ides of March? Or actual madness for March madness?

Also, for anyone who happened to read my cougar rant about March Cougar Madness a few days back, please note that a magazine, I think Esquire?, is also having the hottest women bracketology contest for readers too.

I don't know why this frustrates me so. I guess because I do not appropriate tournament brackets to heterosexual males as much as it would appear mass media does. Really, many of the most rabid March madness lovers I know are women. Many of the most degenerate casual gamblers I know are men, but I still don't equate NCAA brackets with men, or men of a certain degree of gambling addiction. I consider filling out brackets a tradition that is a wonderful take all comers equalizer that opens the joy of NCAA basketball to all. So glorious, in fact, that it makes me ask - can you imagine if there were an equivalent NCAA football bowl situation?!?! Crazy even to ponder.

Once the games begin on Thursday there's quite a good chance that the crockpot will turn, as it did during the Olympics, to matters of buzzer beaters, surprise upsets, tournament favorites, and other things Jay Bilas might say on television. Just a warning.

Today had all the makings of a hybrid of two of the best books of my childhood - Wacky Wednesday and Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No-Good, Very Bad Day. The reasons are not important, and many reside within my own little brain crockpot, but I think I should have known to just turn around and go home when I heard some hilarious soundbites on NPR during my drive to work.

The first was a British gentleman explaining to Renee Montagne (Montane? Montaine? Montaigne? MawnTayun? Anyway...) who David Beckham was. "You have to understand, Renee, he's somewhat of a national hero here."
It was sooo hilariously matter-of-fact and understated. So British. Such a British reaction to Renee's question - which was absurd and somehow flippant enough to be condescending and also so very stereotypically NPR in its reflecting the total lack of grasp of David Beckham's influence on soccer as a sport globally, and particularly, in England. Oh, and let's not forget America. He was basically sent to colonize America for the kingdom of soccer. Look at that - total fragment. And another describing the fragment. And another right there (and here!). Anyway, Renee was asking a sports reporter being called upon to represent the expert opinion of sports in England whether, at 34 going on 35, Beckham wasn't getting a little long in the tooth to be running around playing soccer? The implication was something akin to, "I mean, yeah, he had a pretty devastating injury, but shouldn't people lower expectations? I mean, he's been playing for what, more than ten years? Can't this guy just admit he's getting old?"

Really, like I cannot imagine that being asked on an American sports show without the "sports expert" responding with yells. Phones would ring off the hooks. Email inboxes would flood. What?!?! It's DAVID FREAKIN' BECKHAM. Kind of a big deal to the sport of soccer. I can't even imagine Renee asking that to the guys on Click and Clack and not getting laughed off the air. It's David Freakin' Beckham!

Anyway, I was still pondering that when another story aired involving the record breaking sale of Michael Jackson music rights (record breaking in two ways! Crazy! and booo....bad one). The interviewer was asking another British expert - this time a music rights guy - if MJ would become the new Elvis in his posthumous popularity and sales. After a rather lengthy comparison and explanation that actually made a lot of sense, he capped his interview by saying, "The time is right for a new dead artist."

I mean, grace in soundbites of a high degree. If he waits, oh whaddya think Renee, another 10 minutes? maybe he can get old man Becks. He's sure to kick soon.
Actually....that's kinda the thing....
He can't kick.

Nina Totenberg, take me away!