Welcome Back Wagner College.
Obviously, we are back in session, we have the first week of classes under our belt, and the Allen Koehler Show is officially back on the air!
Shall we begin with the weeks leading up to our on-air return?
Obviously, Allen and I are RA's in Towers Hall, meaning that the two weeks before school began had us in training for that position. Interestingly enough, Show manager and Laundry List host Diez is an RA, as is field reporter Chris Fourman, as is new sports personality Stephanie Burnett. So we had the unique oppurtunity to all be back together early, and so over the weekend during training, Allen thought it would be a good idea to take all of us away on retreat, to reflect on the show, and to look ahead to our year. It was a really great experience for our show as a staff, and helped connect us through a great campfire with s'mores, a two on two volleyball tournament, and some late night bonding in our cabins that I will refrain from posting here for the sake of appropriateness. Don't worry, it was a christian camp. It didn't get too wild.
So now we were back and refreshed, and of course, we had a show to prepare. August 26th, we learned a lot about ourselves, and our show. We had no guest on this week, so our suffering audience had to listen to Allen, Stephanie, and myself for two full hours. Chris had the night off, because he had tickets to the Red Sox Yankees game, meaning that the one time he was actually in the field at a newsworthy event, he took the night off. Thanks Chris, keep working hard.
One of the topics that came up on last week's show was circumcision. It is an interesting topic to me, and I had many conversations with an aquaintance from my past who was a Ob/Gyn who had performed many many births and also had done the procedure on many many infants. He was not a proponent of the procedure. Now, I was raised to believe that it was a good procedure, it was more sterile, helped prevent disease, etc. etc. That is what I was raised to think. Turns out, in the past twenty years, these perceptions that I had have mostly been proven wrong.
The British Medical Association released a statement in 2006 that said "it is now widely accepted, including by the BMA, that this surgical procedure has medical and psychological risks."[41] Goldman (1999) discussed the possible trauma of circumcision on children and parents, anxieties over the circumcised state, a tendency to repeat the trauma, and suggested a need on the part of circumcised doctors to find medical justifications for the procedure."
Ultimately, there are arguments that say that the procedure should only be done in cases of medical necessity, although I could not find what situation would make circumcision a medical necessity. There are also several religious rites that involve circumcision.
As Diez gave us on the air, there are a lot of decreasing percentages (the procedure is down 25% since the 70s) in the amount of circumcisions done yearly. That doesn't mean that the procedure is going away, however, because there is no evidence that any religious organizations are rethinking their own dogmas in terms of what is or is not humane.
It is an interesting topic, one we could talk about for a whole show, although I doubt we would get huge viewership for it.
For more info, check out this website:
http://kidshealth.org/parent/pregnancy_newborn/medical_care/circumcision.html
Tune in next week to the show. We have a comedian on.
-Gavin
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Thursday, August 7, 2008
The travels, how they travel.
It is 11:30 on Thursday night, which means Allen Koehler himself is returning to New York City in a little over twelve hours. Which means a few things:
It means the summer is officially over.
It means I am going to have to start doing real work.
It means I will no longer be able to update this column while sitting on Allen's sofa that I was keeping for the summer.
I am not ready to have him back.
But with the end of the summer come a few fond memories that spread beyond the scope of the baseball diamond, though they tend to be few. However, along with my trusty partner in crime, Diez, I managed to put together some stories this summer from my travels that I think make for a pretty successful season away from the studio.
Luckily, I had the good fortune of not having a real job this summer, and was able to squeeze in several decent vacations, the first of which took me to Myrtle Beach, South Carolina. While I was on this vacation, I managed to miss Diez' birthday, which makes a real shitty partner in crime of me.
Back Story: Over Spring Break this past March, The Allen Koehler Show went to Myrtle Beach for a little while, and Diez and I discovered a really cool restaurant where all the inlet locals went called Creek Ratz, which has live music and really choice southern cuisine. Lots of simple fried fish sandwiches etc. and hush puppies with honey butter that will curl your toes. What makes the place really cool is that everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) in the place knows each other. All the local folks were greeting one another jubliantly at the bar to the sounds of that weeks best Jimmy Buffet cover in the low country. It was a very cool place.
So I missed Diez' birthday in New York. He turned 21. He grew a mustache. How could I have missed such an event. A real drag. But on his birthday, I happened to be at Creek Ratz, which to me connected us a little bit. I also bought him a total yokel t-shirt bearing the slogan "Creek Ratz: We all here 'cuz we ain't all there". How quaintly southern.
Also while I was down south, I watched a guy hook a shark. He caught a fucking shark. With a fishing pole. That. Is. A. Man.
What happened was, on my last day of vacation, I was bathing in the ocean, when a group of people started yelling at my brother (Dobles) and I to get out of the water. I was annoyed. It was my last day of vacation, and I am entitled and from New York. So I yelled "Why??" to which a woman responded "He's got a shark!". Dobles and were dry in five seconds.
We watched this guy start trolling down the beach, clearly struggling with a pole that had a real big boy on its south end. Then the dorsal fin breached the surface of the water. He won the battle, and pulled a shark that was five feet in length if it was an inch, grabbed it by its fucking mouth, took a couple pictures, and threw it BACK INTO THE OCEAN. Did we continue swimming? Yes, but only because Dobles and I are from Maine, and not very bright.
So I got on my flight back from Myrtle Beach, and Diez picked me up from the airport, and drove me to his house, with another of our mutual friends, Steph. We were due for a night on Long Beach Island, a family barbeque, and a killer rainout at the Phillies game. Had we known about the rainout before we were on the road, our spirits may have been less high. But needless to say, we were pumped for a weekend away from the big city.
That evening, we got to LBI, and went to a supposedly famous restaurant called The Chicken or the Egg (AKA the CHEGG). I as usual, over-ordered, and got buffalo chicken fingers, mac 'n' chee, onion rings, fried broccoli, and french fries. Anyone for dessert? The place was money, and if you are ever in LBI, I highly recommend checking this place out.
We also enjoyed a few games of Skee-ball, Jersey shore style. What is the Jersey Shore without it? The amount of tickets we won was negligable, but Steph managed to get us free ice cream because she knew the woman who worked there, even though Diez' brother dropped his whole ice cream down the front of his shirt.
The next day was the most interesting. We became a part of the Diez family barbeque. He has a lesbian aunt who told us a story about her friend who has cancer of the vagina. Not cervical, not uterine. Vagina. And apparantly she had her entire vagina radiationed out, and while I type it, it sounds horrible, but I guess it was the inflection of Aunt Diez' telling of it that made it so bizarrely funny. Plus, the woman donated her body to science. I hope that science didn't need to study her vagina.
Obviously the last of our foray into the Diez family was the Phillies game. Feel free to jump back a post for that story, but I will say this to rain delays:
BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.
The next weekend, we were obligated to be guests on the Cincinnati edition of the Allen Koehler Show. He was broadcasting on 88.9 Classx out of his hometown for the summer and invited us out to visit the city and check out his setup. We got in on a friday, and of course, because it's Allen, our time was scheduled out to the minute.
Friday night we ate at the Montgomery Inn. The place was money. Guess what? I over-ordered. I got ribs, brisket, pulled pork, jalapeno corncakes, and mac 'n' chee. There are no vegetables in Ohio. I'm convinced.
After the dinner, we went across the river into shit-ass Kentucky to celebrate "Goetta-Fest". I didn't actually eat any of the stuff, but the definition I found on Wikipedia explains it this way:
Goetta is a peasant food of German origin that is popular in the greater Cincinnati area. It is primarily composed of ground meat and oats. Pronounced gétt-aa, ged-da or get-uh Americanized Pronunciation, this dish originated with German settlers from the northwestern regions of Oldenburg, Hannover, and Westphalia who emigrated to the Cincinnati area in the 19th century. The word "Goetta" comes from the Low German word götte.
Goetta was originally a peasant dish, meant to stretch out servings of meat over several meals to conserve money.
The modern popularity of goetta in Cincinnati has led to it being called "Cincinnati Caviar". Glier's Goetta, the largest commercial producer of goetta, produces more than 1,000,000 lb (450 metric tons) annually, around 99% of which is consumed locally in greater Cincinnati.
Goetta was originally a peasant dish, meant to stretch out servings of meat over several meals to conserve money.
The modern popularity of goetta in Cincinnati has led to it being called "Cincinnati Caviar". Glier's Goetta, the largest commercial producer of goetta, produces more than 1,000,000 lb (450 metric tons) annually, around 99% of which is consumed locally in greater Cincinnati.
Why anyone would want to eat this is beyond me. But God help me if those rednecks don't just eat that shit up.
Sticking to the German theme of the night, Allen took us to the Hofbrauhaus, which was a brewery in Newport KY. They made their own beers in house, had a live polka band, and everyone danced on tables to the song "Hang on Sloopy", which oddly enough turns out to be the state song of the state of Ohio, and they were singing it in Kentucky. They sure told me a lot about their intelligence in the great state of Kentucky. This place also didn't mess around when serving a beer. For $8, you get a liter of beer. Look at this thing in the picture above. That's a big ol' beer.
The next day we got the Koehler family barbeque, which was more or less similar to the Diez family barbeque except that there was a greater abundance of cornhole, which is a game similar to horseshoes, in which you throw bean bags onto a slanted board that has a hole at the top. You try to get the bags in the hole for three points, on the board for one point, twenty-one points wins the game. It was addicting, and Mr. Koehler was kind enough to make up a set of boards to send back to Wagner with Allen, so that we may start an Allen Koehler Show sponsored cornhole tournament (in conjunction with the Laundry List- A Music Show Featuring Diez). Look for that later this fall.
Finally, we got to go to the studio and do the Allen Koehler Show which was a really cool experience. Allen had a great guest on, comedian Marcus T, whose website is linked on http://www.allenkoehler.com/ and Diez and I had a great time midwest.
It's been a great summer, and we are excited to get started this fall, with RA training, and welcoming back the Wagner community to the Allen Koehler Show. See you on August 26th, 10pm on the stations of WCBG (Wagner channel 18) or online at http://www.allenkoehler.com/
Over. And Out.
-Gavin
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Off and Rollin'...
So, with the end of the summer, we are now getting prepared to start the new season of The Allen Koehler Show on August 26th at 10 pm!
But that isn't to say we all haven't been busy this summer...
...so for the next two weeks leading up to the season premier we will be passing along stories of the summer!
We will start in the ballparks of America, where I (Gavin), who was stuck on Staten Island for the whole summer, spent the summer unemployed (essentially) and visiting the baseball havens of NYC for their final seasons of regulation play.
First, show manager and host of "The Laundry list: A Music Show", Derek Blauser, and I spent all our time together, working on campus and otherwise adventuring together.
And one day, as we sat in the dining hall with long time listener/supporter Mehg, we were approached by the head of Dining Services at Wagner, and asked if we wanted to go to the Yankee game. Assuming that he meant the Staten Island Yankees, we were skeptical and inquired further. No, not Staten Island. The man was offering us the chance for a free trip to the Bronx that very night. Cover my duty, let's get on the 4 train. Turns out, the guy, through a promotion from Coca-cola, got a stack of tickets with accompanying food vouchers for the Yankees v. Rays game for that night. So, we dropped everything we were doing that night (it was easy, we had no plans), got on the ferry, got on the 5 train, realized we had to take the 4 train, got off the 5 train, got on the 4 train, and were on our way. The funny thing about Yankee stadium is that it is shrouded in history, and majesty, and pomp, and some foreign sticky substances that I could otherwise not identify, because the concession stand was OUT of beer. It was an interesting enigma, as we went for our concessions, that they were not only out of beer, but had no hot dogs ready either. I don't know if this had anything to do with the fact that we were as high up in the stadium as we could possibly be, in the furthest outfield section that the Yankees offer, but as far as I am concerned, in the sacred house that Ruth built, at an athletic performance considered to be America's pasttime, there should be copious amounts of both hot dogs and beer. For these, to me, are America.
So later that week, show manager Derek (Hereinafter known as Diez, for reasons explained later) and Myself decided to give Shea Stadium a try. Unfortunately, our seats were much closer to the field, there were plenty of hot dogs, and the stadium was nicer, and less sticky. But at least it was Southpole Free T-shirt promotion day. Thank the lord. Now, what I take pride in at Shea is the family feel the park offers. But, sitting in our section was that guy. That guy, in a Jeremy Shockey football jersey, and a Montreal Expos hat, mind you the Expos are not only a team that no longer exists, but are also a division rival of the Mets as the Washington Nationals. So, clearly this guy was on the ball. So Shockey provided a real source of entertainment throughout the game, I call him Shockey only because of the shirt he was wearing, although I can say with confidence that the real Shockey is probably not any different in terms of personality. First we got to see Shockey fight with an entire family of Asians. Then Shockey got in a verbal confrontation with a mom sitting in front of us. And only after both of these confrontations did he decide he needed beer. On his way back from the beer stand, we got to watch him get lost on his way back to his seat. And not regular lost, like "I know my section but can't find my seat in the crowd" kind of lost, this was "I can't tell whether or not I am still at Shea Stadium" lost. We watched him look directly at his seat section, see his friend, and proceed to walk in the opposite direction. At least he found another beer vendor in the meantime.
The nice memory is that the Mets and Yankees both won their respective games, and I will look back on both historic stadiums fondly, as they demonstrated to me what New York City, New York Baseball, and New York Fans all represent: Lewd behavior, poor sight lines, and beer. Because what is baseball without it?
Having gotten sick of New York, Diez and I decided to tour our love of the Great American Pasttime, visiting Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia, and Great American Ballpark in Cincinatti.
We didn't get to actually watch a game in Great American Ballpark, because the Reds were away while we were in town, but the stadium is nice. Small, new, clean, it was money. Wish we could have seen some action there.
Philly was a different story. Diez brought me home for a weekend in South Jersey (more on that later...), and as a result we got the oppurtunity to see the hometown Phillies take on Diez' favorite team, the Braves. It was great. We had great seats, it wasn't too hot out, and in the second inning Diez' Braves were on top 2-0. As Mel Brooks so faithfully put it "It could be worse, could be raining".
And that's what happened.
But this wasn't rain. This wasn't even downpour. In fact, to describe this rain as downpour would be to describe VanGogh as a painter. It was fuckin' raining.
So we attempted to find cover. Naturally. Only, at first we found no shelter. The wind howled the rain over us with tropical force. When finally a respite came, we struck out to spend the food vouchers that came with our tickets (again with that, gotta love free shit), and got under real shelter finally. Now, Diez was in a Braves Jersey and wearing a Braves hat, and it was PACKED under the awning as we started our trek to peruse the food. One man offered the slightest support, a meek "go braves", said softly, as though if he showed his solidarity at a greater volume, the mobs of Phillies fans would attack and kill him, although probably not because he was a Braves fan, but moreso because he was NOT an Eagles fan. The funny thing about these Phillies fans is that they do not actually like the Phillies, but can find nothing else to spend their Sundays in the summer doing because the Eagles are on hiatus. After the meek showing of support, an eager Phillies fan walked past Diez, booed him for a loud long time, and continued on his way. And I mean booed. Loud. And long. Then it was proclaimed by a third fan, from across the walkway, that Chipper Jones, the man whose name adorned the back of Diez' jersey, was a faggot. "CHIPPER JONES IS A FAGGOT". It was something like that. Needless to say, I was glad to be wearing a Phillies t-shirt.
But the best part of the rain delay was the Schmitter. I assume it is named for Mike Schmitt, former Phillie great, but either way, it is a formidable sandwich. It includes, but is not limited to, salami, shaved steak, tomato, grilled onion, melty cheese, and special sauce. It was a hell of a meal. Next time you make it to Citizens Bank Park, come for the rain delay, but stay for the Schmitter. Its worth it.
The result of the day was that an hour and a half into the rain delay we decided it wasn't worth it to stay, because the game would likely be called off, so we left. Play resumed within twenty minutes of that decision. I suppose that is only appropriate.
-Gavin
Stay tuned for my next post, when I discover New Jersey family barbeques, Cincinatti family barbeques, and somehow get stuck co-hosting the Allen Koehler Show on my summer vacation!
But that isn't to say we all haven't been busy this summer...
...so for the next two weeks leading up to the season premier we will be passing along stories of the summer!
We will start in the ballparks of America, where I (Gavin), who was stuck on Staten Island for the whole summer, spent the summer unemployed (essentially) and visiting the baseball havens of NYC for their final seasons of regulation play.
First, show manager and host of "The Laundry list: A Music Show", Derek Blauser, and I spent all our time together, working on campus and otherwise adventuring together.
And one day, as we sat in the dining hall with long time listener/supporter Mehg, we were approached by the head of Dining Services at Wagner, and asked if we wanted to go to the Yankee game. Assuming that he meant the Staten Island Yankees, we were skeptical and inquired further. No, not Staten Island. The man was offering us the chance for a free trip to the Bronx that very night. Cover my duty, let's get on the 4 train. Turns out, the guy, through a promotion from Coca-cola, got a stack of tickets with accompanying food vouchers for the Yankees v. Rays game for that night. So, we dropped everything we were doing that night (it was easy, we had no plans), got on the ferry, got on the 5 train, realized we had to take the 4 train, got off the 5 train, got on the 4 train, and were on our way. The funny thing about Yankee stadium is that it is shrouded in history, and majesty, and pomp, and some foreign sticky substances that I could otherwise not identify, because the concession stand was OUT of beer. It was an interesting enigma, as we went for our concessions, that they were not only out of beer, but had no hot dogs ready either. I don't know if this had anything to do with the fact that we were as high up in the stadium as we could possibly be, in the furthest outfield section that the Yankees offer, but as far as I am concerned, in the sacred house that Ruth built, at an athletic performance considered to be America's pasttime, there should be copious amounts of both hot dogs and beer. For these, to me, are America.
So later that week, show manager Derek (Hereinafter known as Diez, for reasons explained later) and Myself decided to give Shea Stadium a try. Unfortunately, our seats were much closer to the field, there were plenty of hot dogs, and the stadium was nicer, and less sticky. But at least it was Southpole Free T-shirt promotion day. Thank the lord. Now, what I take pride in at Shea is the family feel the park offers. But, sitting in our section was that guy. That guy, in a Jeremy Shockey football jersey, and a Montreal Expos hat, mind you the Expos are not only a team that no longer exists, but are also a division rival of the Mets as the Washington Nationals. So, clearly this guy was on the ball. So Shockey provided a real source of entertainment throughout the game, I call him Shockey only because of the shirt he was wearing, although I can say with confidence that the real Shockey is probably not any different in terms of personality. First we got to see Shockey fight with an entire family of Asians. Then Shockey got in a verbal confrontation with a mom sitting in front of us. And only after both of these confrontations did he decide he needed beer. On his way back from the beer stand, we got to watch him get lost on his way back to his seat. And not regular lost, like "I know my section but can't find my seat in the crowd" kind of lost, this was "I can't tell whether or not I am still at Shea Stadium" lost. We watched him look directly at his seat section, see his friend, and proceed to walk in the opposite direction. At least he found another beer vendor in the meantime.
The nice memory is that the Mets and Yankees both won their respective games, and I will look back on both historic stadiums fondly, as they demonstrated to me what New York City, New York Baseball, and New York Fans all represent: Lewd behavior, poor sight lines, and beer. Because what is baseball without it?
Having gotten sick of New York, Diez and I decided to tour our love of the Great American Pasttime, visiting Citizens Bank Park in Philadelphia, and Great American Ballpark in Cincinatti.
We didn't get to actually watch a game in Great American Ballpark, because the Reds were away while we were in town, but the stadium is nice. Small, new, clean, it was money. Wish we could have seen some action there.
Philly was a different story. Diez brought me home for a weekend in South Jersey (more on that later...), and as a result we got the oppurtunity to see the hometown Phillies take on Diez' favorite team, the Braves. It was great. We had great seats, it wasn't too hot out, and in the second inning Diez' Braves were on top 2-0. As Mel Brooks so faithfully put it "It could be worse, could be raining".
And that's what happened.
But this wasn't rain. This wasn't even downpour. In fact, to describe this rain as downpour would be to describe VanGogh as a painter. It was fuckin' raining.
So we attempted to find cover. Naturally. Only, at first we found no shelter. The wind howled the rain over us with tropical force. When finally a respite came, we struck out to spend the food vouchers that came with our tickets (again with that, gotta love free shit), and got under real shelter finally. Now, Diez was in a Braves Jersey and wearing a Braves hat, and it was PACKED under the awning as we started our trek to peruse the food. One man offered the slightest support, a meek "go braves", said softly, as though if he showed his solidarity at a greater volume, the mobs of Phillies fans would attack and kill him, although probably not because he was a Braves fan, but moreso because he was NOT an Eagles fan. The funny thing about these Phillies fans is that they do not actually like the Phillies, but can find nothing else to spend their Sundays in the summer doing because the Eagles are on hiatus. After the meek showing of support, an eager Phillies fan walked past Diez, booed him for a loud long time, and continued on his way. And I mean booed. Loud. And long. Then it was proclaimed by a third fan, from across the walkway, that Chipper Jones, the man whose name adorned the back of Diez' jersey, was a faggot. "CHIPPER JONES IS A FAGGOT". It was something like that. Needless to say, I was glad to be wearing a Phillies t-shirt.
But the best part of the rain delay was the Schmitter. I assume it is named for Mike Schmitt, former Phillie great, but either way, it is a formidable sandwich. It includes, but is not limited to, salami, shaved steak, tomato, grilled onion, melty cheese, and special sauce. It was a hell of a meal. Next time you make it to Citizens Bank Park, come for the rain delay, but stay for the Schmitter. Its worth it.
The result of the day was that an hour and a half into the rain delay we decided it wasn't worth it to stay, because the game would likely be called off, so we left. Play resumed within twenty minutes of that decision. I suppose that is only appropriate.
-Gavin
Stay tuned for my next post, when I discover New Jersey family barbeques, Cincinatti family barbeques, and somehow get stuck co-hosting the Allen Koehler Show on my summer vacation!
Good Evening...
Good evening, and welcome to the first edition of the Allen Koehler Show blog.
This blog will be updated two to three times a week with some oddities in the news, as well as some news about the show and its hosts, field reporters, and managers.
This is also an outlet for me, Gavin, show co-host, to keep our viewers updated throughout the week, besides just on Tuesday nights at 10.
Look forward to an update about our summer as a show, and info on the upcoming season premiere of The Allen Koehler Show, on August 26th at 10pm, on WCBG, Wagner College broadcasting group (Wagner channel 18), and also online at www.allenkoehler.com
-gavin
This blog will be updated two to three times a week with some oddities in the news, as well as some news about the show and its hosts, field reporters, and managers.
This is also an outlet for me, Gavin, show co-host, to keep our viewers updated throughout the week, besides just on Tuesday nights at 10.
Look forward to an update about our summer as a show, and info on the upcoming season premiere of The Allen Koehler Show, on August 26th at 10pm, on WCBG, Wagner College broadcasting group (Wagner channel 18), and also online at www.allenkoehler.com
-gavin
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
