never gonna give you up

My wife and I had Phillies season tickets for 18 seasons and we were pretty avid baseball fans. Besides going to Phillies games, we would watch other, out-of-market games on TV and even visit other ballparks. We wouldn't necessarily go to other cities when the Phillies were the visiting team (as a matter of fact, we would prefer not to). We liked to compare Philadelphia's stadium to other city's stadiums. (All were much better than the giant toilet bowl that was Veterans Stadium, but after 2004, nothing compared to beautiful Citizens Bank Park. Fight me!) We also liked to to see how other teams handled the "fan experience," including available concessions, ease of parking and stadium entry and how fans were made to "feel at home" and be "part of the game." (With the exception of the Phillie Phanatic — the greatest mascot in the Major Leagues — the Phillies experience leaves a lot to be desired.)

We gave up our season tickets in 2014. Actually, we kind of gave up on baseball, as well. We stopped watching games and we stopped visiting other ball parks. But, just this year, while on the hunt for outdoor activities in the (fingers crossed) waning days of the worldwide pandemic, we began to go back to baseball. We've already been to a few games here in Philadelphia and yesterday we even ventured to Washington, DC to visit Nationals Park. We made plans with Mrs. P's Virginia-based cousins who, for reasons that are still unclear to me, are rabid Atlanta Braves fans. The Nationals were playing the Braves, so this would be a great opportunity for a particular family member who, at sixteen years old, would be attending his first Major League baseball game.

The Atlanta Braves began life in the latter part of the 19th century as the Boston Braves, adopting a Native American in a feathered headdress as their logo. They relocated to Milwaukee in 1953, still keeping the stereotypical Native American motif as part of their uniforms and team logo. The team moved to Atlanta in 1966, still clinging to, and even elaborating on, the cartoonish portrayal of Native Americans, including a depiction of a "laughing Indian" as the team logo. They added the presence of "Chief Noc-A-Homa" at Braves' home games, who would emerge from his left field teepee and dance when a home run was hit by a home team player. Russell Means, an actor and Native American activist and advocate, complained about "Chief Noc-A-Homa," citing the name as "derogatory" and his actions as "insulting" to Native Americans. Instead of sympathy and re-examination of the concept, the Braves PR department explained that the actor who portrayed the character at the ball park was, himself, Native American and therefore validated the whole scenario. It was essentially a kiss-off to Means and his accusations. In 1991, stadium organist Carolyn King began to play a stereotypical, yet familiar, "Indian" riff for most Braves' at-bats. When coupled with the distribution of oversized foam tomahawks, the infamous "tomahawk chop" was born. Once the Braves became a pennant contender, fans were relentless. They wielded their foam "weapons," or just their outstretched palm, in a mock "chopping" motion when the Braves scored a run or made a spectacular play. Soon, the action could be spotted in other stadiums when the Braves were the visiting team.

When protests were levied against the Cleveland Indians and the Washington Redskins regarding their team names and practices, their respective management examined their options. Sure, it took a while (In DC, it took a few years. In Cleveland, it took decades), but eventually, they did the right thing. In 2018, Cleveland removed all reference to "Chief Wahoo," the long-time mascot depicted as an exaggerated caricature of a Native American. At the end of the 2021 season, it was announced that the team would be renamed "The Guardians" to start the 2022 season, the new name being a reference to the iconic sculpted figures on the Hope Memorial Bridge in downtown Cleveland. The Redskins, cited by Native American groups to be just as offensive as the unspoken "N-word," ditched the racist moniker and went with the generic "Washington Football Team" for two seasons while a new name was selected. The 2022 season will see the team rechristened the "Commanders," while sporting a stylized, though rather nondescript, "W" on their uniforms.

But the Braves are standing firm. Sure, they slowly eliminated the "laughing Indian" from team uniforms, but they kept the bright red tomahawk, still displayed prominently across players' chests. The Braves' front office claims the team's relationship with the Native American community is "a proud expression of unification and family." Spokespeople from the Native American community beg to differ.  

In the 2019 post-season, the Braves were facing the St. Louis Cardinals in the Division Series. Cardinals pitcher Ryan Helsley, a vocal member of the Cherokee Nation, expressed his dismay about the controversial "tomahawk chop" and its accompanying chant by fans. The pitcher said he found the fans' chanting and arm-motions insulting and that the chop depicts natives "in this kind of caveman-type people way who aren't intellectual." Upon hearing this sentiment, the Braves discontinued the sale and distribution of the popular foam tomahawks. The stadium organist was instructed to immediately stop playing and inciting the "chop." Related graphics would no longer be displayed on the stadium scoreboard. The Braves then released a statement saying they would "continue to evaluate how we activate elements of our brand, as well as the overall in-game experience" and that they would continue a "dialogue with those in the Native American community after the postseason concludes." Various Native American groups continued to condemn the Braves' actions. Even in the aftermath of Cleveland and Washington changing their team names, the Braves announced on-going discussions regarding the "chop," but defiantly stated that the team name will remain unchanged.

At Saturday's Nationals-Braves match-up at Nationals Park, I saw a substantial representation of Braves fans, identified by the abundance of tomahawk-emblazoned jerseys and t-shirts scattered throughout the seating area. After a lackluster beginning, the Braves lit up in the top of the third inning when first-baseman Matt Olson took a 1-0 fastball over the fence, scoring two teammates who were already on base. This prompted the visiting Braves faithful to rise from their seats and enact the notorious "tomahawk chop" and its equally-notorious low, throaty chant. A solo home run in the very next at-bat by third-baseman Austin Riley kept 'em standing and kept 'em chanting. Mrs. Pincus's young cousin and his father were cheerfully waving their outstretched arms, joining in on the rebellious activity. Sideways looks and silent jeers be damned! These are our Atlanta Braves! Proud team! Proud rituals! Proudly confrontational! The Nationals fans (if there really are any), the casual baseball fans and those just looking for something to do on a Saturday afternoon sat quietly, sort of like the victim of a relentless bully.

I felt like I was being Rick-rolled.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

we can be heroes

Let me preface this by saying "I am not a comic book guy." I didn't read comic books when I was a kid. With very few exceptions, I don't like movies or TV shows based on comic books. I have seen only a handful of movies from the Marvel and DC franchises and, again with few exceptions, I didn't care for any of them. It's funny. I've had friends, family members and other acquaintances recommend a particular comic book movie, touting "This one is different! You'll like this one!" Against my better judgment, I watch and — sure enough — it is not different. It's a comic book movie. And I am once again reminded that I don't like comic book movies.

As a matter of fact, I can only identify a few of the colorful characters depicted in the image at the top of this blog post. So, what gives me the qualifications to write a piece about comic book characters. What gives me the qualifications to write about anything I don't know about?

My wife and I were out in the neighborhood on our regular after-dinner, early evening walk. We strolled past a newly-opened store that, by the stock visible thorough their large front window, is an art gallery of sorts. (Actually, this place hasn't actually had its doors open to welcome customers in weeks. Even during the days leading up to Christmas, the place is dark and a large metal grate is pulled down across the entrance and secured with an imposing and impenetrable padlock.) The window is cluttered with all sizes of prints, paintings and colorized photographs of celebrities, along with out-of-place framed Philles and Eagles logos.

As we walked past the store, I spotted this print in a corner of the window.

I just glanced at it at first, but then, I stopped and went back for a closer inspection. Apparently, these superheroes have taken a quick break from their busy agenda of philan.... philan.... uh... good deed doing to.... um.... relieve themselves against a wall, à la Who's Next. I pondered this print for way to long. I stopped Mrs. P, who had already proceeded on her walk, nearly making it past the newly-reopened (but currently closed) neighborhood ice cream store. I summoned her back to answer some of the questions now forming in my head, brought on by this stupid print in the window of a closed (and not long for this world) art gallery. Mrs. Pincus is more of a comic book fan than I am. If you get right down to it, almost everyone is a bigger comic book fan than I am. Mrs. P is partial to Superman and the Fantastic Four. I know this because we have seen cinematic entries in the canons of the both properties, both in first-run theaters and on television. I remember trying to stay awake during one of the Fantastic Four films and thinking how Brandon Routh was a poor replacement for the late Christopher Reeve in DC's attempt to revive interest in the Superman saga. (To his credit, Routh was serviceable in the recent Hallmark Christmas movies featuring the one and only Ambrose the cat... the real star!)

I pointed to the picture and asked: "Do superheroes need to go to the bathroom?" This sparked quite a debate. One that took up way too much of our time, but considering that we have had lengthy discussions regarding the use of Jeannie's powers versus the use of Samantha Stephens', this was not anything unusual. (Welcome to the world of the Pincuses!) I began to think, despite my admittedly limited knowledge of all things superheroes. The one thing I do know is: one so-called "super" hero that has no actual super powers at all. Technically, he's just a guy in a costume with a bunch of highly-advanced gizmos. That guy's name is Batman. Obviously, Batman has to pee sometime. Because I am not now nor have I ever been a reader of Batman comics, I can only assume that the Caped Crusader has not been depicted using the porcelain facilities in the colorful pages of a printed book. I know that was never shown or even alluded to in the campy 60s TV series (which, as a five year-old, I watched religiously). However, I cannot speak for the current trend of grittier, more adult-oriented stories and subject matter that apparently pervades today's comic publications. So, because Batman is human and was not subjected to gamma rays or a spider bite nor is he a strange visitor from another planet, who came to Earth with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal men — he pees. It's the other ones I'm not so sure about.

Superman, for instance. Since he is an alien, there is no way of knowing if he eliminates bodily waste in the same way as humans. Sure he eats and walks and does other humanesque things, but how are we to know if the Kyptonians were so evolved that the simple process of urinating was replaced with something more sophisticated and less.... primal.

A lot of superheroes started out as humans, but were subjected to an overexposure of laboratory chemicals and/or rays, either accidental or intentional. Sure, we got to see the results of such a mishap in Dr. Bruce Banner's anger or Barry Allen's speed. But, how can we assume that normal bodily functions weren't also affected by the same chemicals or rays. We can't. Has the Hulk ever stopped for a bathroom break during a heated session of smashing? Has the Flash every paused to tinkle in the middle of a high-velocity pursuit? I don't really know. As far as Captain America, Steve Rogers was definitely human. He was injected with a laboratory controlled regimen of "super soldier serum" to make him the ultimate human specimen. While he may have suffered from a back full of "steroid acne" like Barry Bonds and Mark McGwire, he certainly was capable more than just hitting a lot of home runs. I'm fairly sure that Bonds and McGwire still continued to urinate during their record-breaking seasons, but I cannot confirm or deny Captain America's bathroom visits.

By the same token, did the radioactive spider bite that gave poor Peter Parker his arachnidical abilities affect his urinary system? I read that spiders don't produce urine like humans, but do produce uric acid in solid form (hence to be known as "spider poop.") So, if "A + B = C," then Spiderman shits but does not piss. (Actually, I felt a glimmer of hope when I misunderstood Peter Parker's inner dialogue as "My spider sense is tinkling." I was disappointed all over again when I was corrected.)

Other heroes, like Martian Manhunter, Silver Surfer and Hawkman, fall under the same category as Superman. They are aliens. Since the creators of these characters were free to make up any sort of lifestyle functions they wished, bathroom requirements were, most likely, either not taken into consideration or ignored entirely. Wonder Woman, being an Amazon, can also be given "non-human, so human qualities do not apply" status.

As I have explained, I am by no means an expert on superheroes. I'm not even a novice. Perhaps someone can come forward and clear up this controversy once and for all. But, please... I beg you.... don't tell me how much I would enjoy Avengers: Endgame. Unless it ends with everyone excusing themselves to go to the bathroom.... I won't.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com

our love's in jeopardy (finale)

I usually don't weigh in on topical subjects until the subject is no longer topical. Today, I will make an exception.

I love watching Jeopardy!, the game show with a twist, where contestants offer the questions to match up with provided answers. Jeopardy! appears in syndication in most television markets paired with Wheel of Fortune. This is an interesting coupling. These two shows appeal to two entirely different audiences. Most people who watch Wheel of Fortune dislike Jeopardy! — mostly because they can't answer a single question. Wheel of Fortune doesn't require the intellect that most Jeopardy! contestants posses. All you really need to do is be able to identify letters and read, something that 90% of Wheel of Fortune contestants are capable of doing. Jeopardy! requires a vast knowledge of many subjects and the ability of quick recall. As a long-time trivia fanatic, I find I can answer a decent amount of questions on any given episode of Jeopardy! The ones I can't answer, I take as a learning experience.

I remember watching Jeopardy! in its first incarnation in the 1960s. This initial version was hosted by Art Fleming, a typical game show host in the mold of contemporaries like Wink Martindale, Bill Cullen and Dennis James. My mom — a whiz at trivia herself — would take time out of her morning of laundry and vacuuming to add to her knowledge of "World Geography" and "Potent Potables." On days when I was home from school with the sniffles (either real or imagined), my mom and I would watch Jeopardy! together over a cup of healing tea and plate of dry toast. The ever-cheerful Art Fleming would smile, introduce the contestants, read the "answers," recap the scores, congratulate the champion and console the losers and bid the television-viewing audience a fond "Good Day" at the end of 22 minutes, not including commercials. Jeopardy! ran from 1964 until 1975. It was brought back in 1978 as All-New Jeopardy! but was canceled after five months due to unpopular (and downright confusing) changes in format. The unnecessary tinkering with the game play prompted Art Fleming to turn down the offer to host when the show was revived in 1984. Scrambling for a new host, show creator Merv Griffin (yes, that Merv Griffin) took the advice of his friend Lucille Ball (yes, that Lucille Ball) and hired up-and-coming game show host Alex Trebek.

On September 10, 1984, a bright and colorful Jeopardy! premiered in syndication with host Alex Trebek. Trebek expressed in interviews that he insisted on being introduced as the host of Jeopardy!, not the star. He humbly explained that the game was the star and he was merely there to keep things moving. However, after three decades, Trebek seemed to have changed his mind, often injecting personal opinions into contestant interviews and overly berating contestants on wrong answers. One could say he earned that right after so long. I would not and I often found Trebek's behavior distracting in a "steal the spotlight" sort of way. His eye-rolling, snide remarks and sometimes mean retorts were very unbecoming. But it certainly wasn't enough to get me to stop watching Jeopardy! 

In 2019, Alex Trebek announced that he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer (coincidentally, the same type of cancer that claimed the life of Art Fleming in 1995). While fans of the show were sent reeling at the inevitable loss of the beloved Alex Trebek, the "elephant in the room" needed to be addressed — "Who would be Alex Trebek's successor?" When he passed away in November 2020, enough episodes had already been filmed to take the show into the new year. From January until the summer of 2021, Jeopardy! was hosted by a long parade of guests from all sorts of backgrounds. There were actors and newscasters and reporters and former Jeopardy! contestants, even a sports figure and a sportscaster were among the mix. Their "auditions" lasted one or two weeks and, thanks to the power of social media, there was a daily consensus on how each one fared. I watched each guest host and, with one exception, found them to be — well... completely unremarkable. And that's a good thing. I don't watch Jeopardy! for the host. I watch for the show. The show is the star of the show, just like Alex Trebek originally asserted. Each guest host had their quirks, their strengths and weaknesses. I remember that Today Show co-host Savannah Guthrie behaved as though Jeopardy! was a brand-new show that no one in the country had ever seen before, prompting her to over-explain every single move that was made by everyone. (In her defense, perhaps she herself had never seen Jeopardy! because of the early hour in which she has to get to bed in order to wake up to host an early morning news program.) 

I was actually unimpressed by the majority of the guest hosts. Any one of them would have been fine with me, with the exception of "Doctor" (and I use the term very, very loosely) Mehmet Oz. He was unbearable. He was cocky, condescending and thoroughly annoying. He commented on nearly every response (right or wrong) and made the contestant interviews all about him. "Doctor" (and again, I use the term very, very loosely) Oz and his outrageous claims regarding various medical issues specifically the COVID-19 pandemic, was (in my opinion) a poor choice by the Jeopardy! producers. The show serves as a 30-minute escape from the daily grind. Controversy has no place in a game show, especially a popular one.

After all of the prospective hosts had their time in the spotlight, the announcement came that the Jeopardy! baton had been passed to Mike Richards, the show's executive producer. Almost immediately, the internet lit up with disapproval. Complaints flooded all social media outlets, voicing dismay — and disgust — with the decision. Folks campaigned for reconsideration of their favorites among the passed-over candidates. Others vowed never to watch the show again if Mike Richards is the host. Within a day or so, however, Mike's past unsavory behind-the-scenes antics came back to — as they say — bite him in the ass. It seems that "Who is a creepy asshole?" would be the correct question to the answer "Mike Richards." Richards stepped down while filming episodes for the new season and second runner-up, actress Mayim Bialik, took over as "interim guest host." Oh yes, Jeopardy! fans, the search continues.

Personally, I don't care who hosts Jeopardy! I really don't. And honestly, you probably don't either. Did you really tune in every evening to see Alex Trebek? Did you wonder what pithy words of wisdom he would offer? No, of course not. You tuned in to see how smart you are by answering some questions. Or perhaps you'd learn something about the Galapagos Islands or Marie Curie that you didn't know before. You watched to wind down after a day at work or dealing with your neighbors or a particularly trying hour in the dentist's chair. In the big scheme of things, does it really matter who reads those questions or recaps the scores or bids you "Good day until tomorrow"? 

No. It really doesn't.

Unless it's Dr. Oz.

www.joshpincusiscrying.com