Yankees fans can never know pain. Not the way a Red Sox fan knows it.

Last night, you all got a sample, a taste, a cursory lick of hopelessness. Tell me, how did you like it?

Last night, you were sitting on the edges of your seats, not a fingernail left on your hand, sweating enough bullets to fill a crater, weren't you? Welcome to our world. This is how we live day in, day out, especially come October. For a moment, tell me you didn't doubt your Bronx Bombers. Look me in the eye and say you didn't begin to wonder if the "curse" would be shattered last night. If you tell me you never worried an ounce, you're not only arrogant, you're a filthy fuckin' liar.

That aside, I have nothing bad to say. I'm proud of Boston's effort considering that they are the eternal longshot. This play-off series convinced me that I will see them win the World Series before I'm gone. But to all you Yankees fans who refuse to give credit where credit is due, who simply brush it off and give thanks to your "curse," grow up. Nothing is worse than an obnoxious sports fan, regardless of who they root for. Put a sock in it.

Sure, I like rubbing it in people's faces, but 99.9% of the time, I'm content to keep our victories sacred by smiling to myself. I don't want to lose the joy since it doesn't often cross my eyes. Honestly, I wish I were the only one. I know plenty of obnoxious Red Sox fans, so don't think that I'm making the Yanks' fanbase out to be some kind of cult. Truth be told, I have plenty of close friends who're loyal to the Yanks, and hey, that's fine by me. While impulsive in my younger years, I refuse to demean myself or either team by coming to blows over a sports rivalry. In the long run, we respect one another and don't go name-calling. That's what sportsmanship is all about, and I laud it.

However, sportsmanship in general is lost on a lot of people nowadays, fans and players alike (so to answer your question, no, I don't condone Pedro Martinez's actions last week. Happy?). For the past week and change, all I've heard is "curse this" and "curse that." "1918 this" and "1986 that." "Bucky Dent this" and "Bill Buckner that." All I've seen is arrogant, conceited grins from cocky Yankees fans. You wonder why more people from Boston haven't gone B.P. (Beyond Postal) and attempted to carpet bomb Yankee Stadium. Thank God for discretion.

I'd like to think that in some alternative universe, some wonderful type of Karmageddon, these "rub it in your face" types will wind up being reborn into a family of deer 10 feet from Ted Nugent's compound. Then you will know what it's like to be singled out and intimidated. Then you'll know what it's like to hide yourself in a sports bar. Think that over the next time you attempt to condescend to a Red Sox loyalist like myself, OK?

Well, I won't be watching the World Series as neither team interests me. Sure, I'll root for the Marlins, no problem. But why waste my time watching a game that doesn't involve the team I bleed for? And yes, I bleed red. I bleed red to the end, and I'm not the only one. If nothing else, being a Sox fan has taught me humility, and how to cope with pain. But to pull one tearjerker on you, I've got a 9-year-old cousin who is no doubt crying after last night's game, and will probably be ridiculed at school today. When was the last time a 9-year-old Yankee fan had to weep? What, Giambi didn't get that million-dollar raise on his contract? Bernie Williams didn't hit the homer your way? Jeter didn't hit on your mom when he met her? Some day you'll know the pain. Some day you'll know what it means to be stripped of your pride. I guarantee it.

In closing, I'd like to reference my friend Sav. Now Sav is a tried-and-true Mets fan who, for obvious reasons, loathes the Yankees. Now, he could be petty and "1986" me to death, but he realizes there are bigger fish to fry. When I woke up and signed on this morning, his away message, on a scale of one to ten, ranked "totally awesome." And I don't think he'd mind if I shared it with you now...

"Where the hell did all these 'Yankee fans' come from? Half of you wagon-riders didnt even know Aaron Boone played for the Yanks. Now he's a hero? Please. Most of you should spend less time seeing how cute Jeter looks and hoppin' on the Yanks train and try loving the game of baseball itself. As for you true Yankee fans, that was a great game, couldn't have asked for a better series. I can't imagine what a Red Sox fan must feel like. It has been a while seen I've seen a team with that much heart. That alone made it an amazing series. You've captured the souls of New Englanders (and hopeless Mets fans) everywhere... The Sox define team unity."

Amen, Brother Sav.

Goodnight and have a pleasant tomorrow (yes, even you Yankees fans).

On my way to work today, I was listening to Howard Stern on the radio as usual. The guest of the moment was famed hip-hop star Ludacris. Now, as you all should know, I’ve got some issues with the entire hip-hop subculture. Lemme offer you this disclaimer before you go crying “racist.” Skin color, heritage, ethnic/cultural background, that means nothing to me. I judge people by the quality of their beings. They are either good or bad, case closed.

And granted, I am not a fan of hip-hop in general. My tastes tend to lean towards the rock edge of things, but that is just a personal preference. I am, however, irritated and severely alarmed by the glorification of the hip-hop lifestyle portrayed in both song and on the screen. Welcome to the Bling Bling Revolution, as I call it.

But to get back to the point (so you can see where I’m going with this), Ludacris was on Howard Stern this morning. One of the questions Howard asked him (semi-jokingly) was if he carried a gun or not. Ludacris responded he did, but added that it was “for show.”

He carries a gun for show.

Does that bother you at all? Does that make your ears perk up? This man, who fancies himself a superstar in the hip-hop community, carries a deadly weapon, designed for the sole intent to end life, for show. When you hear a comment that proud, that smug, that blatantly ignorant, it’s really hard to disagree with even the most extreme right-wing conservatives who preach against the evils of modern music, particularly rap and it’s glorification of drugs and violence, and its degradation of women.

This is where musical preference falls by the wayside, and disdain for a subculture sets in.

Just some more fuel to the fire: I was watching Scarface a few nights ago on cable, and Ice-T was offering between-commercial commentary on what the film means to him and how it has influenced the hip-hop community.

For those of you who’ve never seen the film, lemme sum it up for ya: Cuban refugee makes it big in America by working as a lackey, killing his superior, and selling cocaine. At the height of his fortune, he is murdered my enemies. That sums it up in a nutshell.

The film does, however, offer up lavish sets, especially in the Miami clubs and Tony Montana’s palatial estate. The phrase, “The world is yours” is echoed throughout the story ad nauseum, as the only thing Tony (Al Pacino) craves is more power. He wants to rule the world, and for a time, he does. But the fast life founded on drugs and crime winds up being his undoing. I know, it sounds a bit clichéd, sure. But it’s still a marvelous picture.

The screenplay was written by Oliver Stone, who at the time was battling cocaine addiction himself. In many ways, it is a social commentary on the criminal underworld, especially as it pertains to drugs. Think of it as one big “Just Say No” campaign with piles of coke, scores of bullets, and a barrage of 182 “F-Bombs.”

However, many in the hip-hop community have taken the stylish imagery from the film and tried to model their livelihood based on that. Think about it, every time Cribs invades a rappers house, the constants are always the same: Cristal, fancy pool, flashy bedroom, and Scarface on DVD. I sincerely doubt that Ice-T or Ludacris ever took a contemporary film class, otherwise they’d be able to read between the lines and figure out that the movie preaches against the type of life they’re leading. Either that, or they just don’t care.

I’d be really curious what Oliver Stone and Brian DePalma think of how the hip-hop community has idolized Tony Montana. I’d love to conduct an interview to see just what they think of this business, ‘cause I gotta tell ya, it disgusts me. Rap used to be a serious social genre. Artists like NWA, Grandmaster Flash, and Public Enemy used the form to preach against social injustice, racism, street life, police brutality, and other topics pertinent to African-Americans at the time.

Now, however, like most musical styles, it has degenerated. In this instance, it has degenerated to one grandiose six-figure, diamond-encrusted, fully-locked-and-loaded Cinderalla story come true for many rappers. But come on, let’s be honest, how long can those fortunes sustain before they start to wear thin on the public? Didn’t you guys see MC Hammer’s Behind The Music? The story doesn’t end pretty! Royalties will only cover so many payments on your Bentley until one is deemed an empty investment by the record company. Even half-assed overpriced clothing lines aren’t likely to keep you afloat.

Whatever the case is, these folks don’t have as rosy a future as they might like. It absolutely turns my stomach to witness such a gross abuse of money.

Or maybe all those Scarface DVD’s just got cut off halfway to the end. Yeah, that’s it. Word.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.

Am I the only one who finds the lack of solid guitar playing in today’s music troublesome? Anyone else in on this? Anyone at all?

I remember when the guitar heroes of generations past used to actually be quite talented. Hendrix, Clapton, Page, Beck, Rhoads, Van Halen, Satriani, Vai, Hammett, Vaughan, etc. What happened? When did we trade in Angus Young for the non-descript dude from Linkin Park? When did Yngwie Malmsteen give way to Mike Mushok from Staind? When did we forget about Michael Schenker the second we saw Wes Borland?

I don’t get it. I seriously don’t get it. The guitar has been such an integral part of contemporary music since the 60’s, when did it take a backseat to everything else? My only hope is that with the current saturation of the Nu Metal genre that good old rootsy guitar playing will return to prominence.

Now it should be duly noted that I am somewhat excluding the blues from this list. Since ’95 we’ve been graced with great blues guitarists like Kenny Wayne Shepherd, Jonny Lang, Shannon Curfman, Joe Bonamassa, Eric Gales, Derek Trucks and Doyle Bramhall II. Those guys are OK by me. They’ve got chops and they know what it’s all about. They understand good blues and what the genre requires, so they are henceforth exempt.

I’m also not referring to virtuosos or progressive rockers. Joe Satriani, Steve Vai and Dream Theater’s John Petrucci simply live to bend and break the rules of what is possible with music, and in doing so they have spawned a few generations of relatively small but fiercely loyal fans. Don’t believe me? Check out the Dream Theater Scenes From Manhattan DVD, and take note of Petrooch onstage. I guarantee you’ll have no doubts.

No, good reader, I’m talking more along the lines of hard rock. Seems that with the exception of ageless classic rockers like Aerosmith’s Joe Perry and AC/DC’s Angus Young, nearly no one is bothering to put the time into their guitar work anymore. The heavy metal scene itself, once renowned for rapid fire riffs and scaling solos has given way to thick, out of tune riffs that seem to loop over and over without much feel. Hell, as I’ve mentioned here before, I love St. Anger, but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t vexed about the fact that Kirk Hammett didn’t solo. Not once. It’s disheartening to see one of the best guitarists ever forego his trademark solos.

My major curiosity pertains as to where things took a left turn. Unlike most people, I do not blame the Seattle Explosion (I can’t stand the term “grunge”) for this sudden shift. Kurt Cobain’s fretwork, while obviously simple, was still graced with the occasional solo. In an Angus Young sort of way, he gave a lot of younger guitarists hope that they, too could be in a great band, even with simple riffs and solos. Kim Thayill from Soundgarden was not afraid to solo, and did quite well with it to boot. Mike McCready and Stone Gossard of Pearl Jam still have their chops when the time is right. And Jerry Cantrell from Alice In Chains is one of the best guitarists ever. Period.

So I don’t blame the Seattle Explosion. I think a lot of things changed when Korn got in the game. Now don’t get me wrong, I dig Korn. They’re a very creative band, but the whole amalgamation of metal, rap and funk mixed in with out of tune seven-string guitars did a lot to damage the music scene. Lots of imitators popped up in their wake, all of whom are not worthy of being mentioned. But they exploded big, causing Nu Metal to grow at a lightning-quick pace on ye olde product life cycle. But with accelerated growth comes an earlier maturation point, and that’s where the market is now. The only full-on metal bands, Nu or otherwise to survive the trend have been Korn, Disturbed and Godsmack. Fine, throw in Linkin Park as well, but they’re still a new band, so there’s plenty of time for them to jump the shark like all the rest.

Let’s be honest folks, there aren’t too many beacons of light out there for us guitar aficionados. Aside from active classic rockers like Perry, Young, Ted Nugent, Edge and Alex Lifeson, touring whores like Steve Howe, Billy Gibbons and (of course) Keith Richards, prog rockers/virtuosos like Vai, Satch and Petrooch, and the ubiquitous Kirk Hammett, how many actual guitar heroes are there anymore? Only other guys that come to mind are Tom Morello, Jerry Cantrell, Dimebag Darrell and the almighty Zakk Wylde. I mean, these are guys who, because of their axe-handling abilities have managed to inspire legions of aspiring guitarists without the brand equity of their band name. Sure, lotsa people love Godsmack (myself being one of them). But how many can actually name the lead guitarist?

See? Eh? For the record his name is Tony Rombola.

Y’know, it’s sad to see music devolving so quickly. And again, I’m talking about rock music. Screw pop and hip-hop, I don’t have a gauge on that stuff. We went from scores of breeding grounds for great bands in the 60’s (the Beatles, the Stones, the Yardbirds, the Who, Led Zep, Cream, Hendrix), 70’s (Aerosmith, AC/DC, Deep Purple, Rush, Pink Floyd) 80’s (Van Halen, Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Metallica, Guns N’ Roses, Blizzard Of Ozz) and 90’s (Nirvana, Soundgarden, Alice In Chains, Pearl Jam, Rage Against The Machine, Korn) to an apparent cesspool of overrated under-practiced hollow rock.

That’s not to say there’s no hope. I think there are a few budding artists out there that show signs of potential. I dig Nickelback (ballads notwithstanding) if nothing else for the fact that they sound like a good ol’ fashioned classic rock four-piece. The guitar work ain’t too shabby either. Similarly, Theory Of A Deadman bring back that rootsy feel typical of Southern Rock with some good tunes. Stone Sour mixes old school metal norms with AIC-inspired melodies, thick riffs, and “ear-delicious” solos. Even Evanescence has the occasional solo to complement Amy Lee’s amazing voice, and y’know what? They’re not too shabby. I’m also excited about the Porch Ghouls, whom Joe Perry describes as sounding like “Peter Green-era Fleetwood Mac on steroids.” If you’ve ever listened to Peter Green’s chops, you know that’s a good thing. Australia’s Jet are a nice return to classic blues-swagger guitar-infused rock n’ roll with the odd solo here or there. Also, Velvet Revolver (comprised of STP’s Scott Weiland, GNR’s Slash, Duff McKagan and Matt Sorum, and Infectious Groove’s Dave Kushner) are almost guaranteed to bring back some of the traditional fretwork standards courtesy of the man in the black hat.

And more and more, young bands are getting away from downtuning and opting for melody. That in and of itself is a step in the right direction, and who knows? The next crop of real guitar heroes might not be that far around the corner. Until that time, I don’t mind swimming, wandering aimlessly through the melodic tributaries of the mainstream. You should consider joining me sometime.

Goodnight, and have a pleasant tomorrow.