The Spicy Baconator: Denied…

…or “Where’s the Bacon? The Wendy’s Story.”

Friday night I had a fast food injustice visited upon me that I still haven’t recovered from.

I ventured to Wendy’s to try this Spicy Baconator sandwich I’ve heard so much about. My lady friend Megan was with me, and also wanted to try the monstrous creation, which features two 1/4 pound patties, six strips of bacon, pepper jack cheese, jalapeno slices, and a chipotle ranch sauce. Sounds good, right?

So we drove across town to Wendy’s, ordered two combos, paid more than $14 for our food, and went back to her place to watch a movie.

I was excited to try the baconator, as I’m a big fan or bacon-and-other-meat combos. I’m down with the spice, too, so count me in.

When we unwrapped our sandwiches, though, we found the bacon had been left off. HOW DO YOU LEAVE THE BACON OFF OF A SANDWICH CALLED THE BACONATOR?

The sandwich was okay, but it was missing the bacon I had been so excited about. And for $14, I feel pretty ripped off. I would have gone back and complained, but it was cold out and I didn’t feel like driving across town again and I wanted to go ahead and eat. What would they have done for me, anyway? Offered twice the bacon on my next Spicy Baconator? I don’t think so.

So consider this a warning, Sanford. The next time you go to Wendy’s, watch your sandwich. Someone might snake your bacon.

Faraquet – The Missing Piece

I used my creative energy yesterday to tear down someone based on their opinion, so today I figured I’d use it to talk about something that I actually like. I can be positive and sincere sometimes. Sort of.

Today I want to talk about Faraquet, a three-piece rock band that existed in Washington, D.C. from 1997 to 2001. They had a couple of EPs and one magnificent, near-perfect album called The View From This Tower, which was released in 2000. The first time I heard this record I was in college and my friend Mike Kane had come up for a visit. We went to the record store and he picked it up on the recommendation of another friend. When we got back to where we were hanging out, he popped it into the CD player with the intention of listening to just a few minutes of it. Instead, we sat through the entire album, jaws hanging open.

The View From This Tower is one of those records I’d probably bring to a desert island with me. Many would probably lump it into the genre of “math rock” (one of the sillier music classifications I’ve ever heard) because of its odd time signatures and squirrelly guitar lines. I tend to think of it instead as a really creative progressive/indie rock album. Yeah, the musicianship is pretty stunningly technical, but there’s an underlying simplicity to the record — you get the feeling that they’re not trying to blow you away with how many notes they can cram into a second. Instead, it always felt to me like they just wrote their songs like that.

I always looked to the album’s final track, “The Missing Piece,” as kind of proof of my theory. A delicate instrumental, it’s both a pretty significant departure from the rest of the record and a fitting end. The song is the same simple guitar riff for several minutes, which the band tastefully builds on with organs and trumpets throughout the course of the track. I wish I could write songs like that. It’s hard to be so confident that you think a song that’s essentially the same part over and over again can really work. But work it does.

Anyway, Faraquet did a few reunion shows this year, none of which I got to see, but I was perusing YouTube for some of their performances and came across this video. Some animator put together this video for the song and I think it fits perfectly. It seems to be a love story of some sort, and while it’s kind of confusing, I like it. It seems sweet, or something. I’ll probably get stuffed into a locker for writing that if the wrong person sees this entry, but whatever. A better writer than I once penned the line “even a rotten creep can have moments sweet and pure.”

Anyway, here’s the video. Check back later for a more manly entry about baseball or something.

If you love American Idol…

…you’ll not want to read this. I am not a fan.

But it has come to my attention that my commanding officer here at the S.S. Herald, in a craven attempt to drive more traffic to his blog, has been writing recently about the show, which he calls a “guilty pleasure.“

Look. I don’t like American Idol, but I don’t care if you do. So the first time Billy wrote about American Idol, I gave him a verbal lashing in the form of a stingingly witty blog comment and let it go.

But this morning, Liggett approached me, head-down and sheepish, to admit that he’d done it again. He’d written about American Idol again, this time because some goofy longhair named David Cook did a “rock” version of the Michael Jackson hit “Billie Jean.” I decided right then that things had gone too far. But what could I do? Billy was beyond gone at this point. An intervention would do little.

The only solution remaining was to, in a craven attempt to increase traffic to my own blog, write about American Idol myself. But this time I would say what needed to be said. I would shout it from the rooftops. So here it goes. Hopefully my sermon on the evils of Simon Cowell and Ryan Seacrest will help absolve Billy see the error of his ways, and maybe even go some distance toward the cleansing of his tainted soul.

As I said earlier, I have no desire to watch American Idol, but that doesn’t mean I’m judging you if you do. I’m not really a fan of pop music in the top 40 sense. It’s just too manufactured. I’m fully aware that I’m in a minority with this position, and that’s fine. Nobody has to like anything.

But when people start using the word “rock” in the same sentence as “American Idol,” well, it kind of burns my butt. Look — if you’re trying to make a career out of rock music, American Idol is the last thing I’d recommend. Not that I know, really, as I don’t have what you’d call a “rock” career, but still. The winners, in my estimation, have been a bunch of weenies and divas who go on to make overly-produced, formulaic records that are the antithesis of rock music.

That is not rock and roll. Rock and roll is smashing your guitar against a wall. Rock and roll is firing a flaming arrow into your guitar in front of thousands of screaming fans. Rock and roll is not covering someone else’s rock version of “Billie Jean.”

I guess you think my definition of rock and roll is damaging your instrument, but that’s not what I mean. I mean that I think of rock and roll as the art of freaking out. The art of spontaneity. Rock and roll is a genre of music, sure, but it’s also something more ethereal that can apply to any kind of art. And that’s why I think it doesn’t have any place on American Idol. The two things kind of necessarily can’t say anything about one another.

And what do Simon Cowell, Randy Jackson and Paula Abdul know about rock music anyway? Okay, I give Jackson some credit for time served in the Blue Oyster Cult and I know he had some involvement with Bruce Springsteen and Journey, but give me a break. Whatever.

Sometimes I think I’m too negative and I realize I’ve probably offended like everyone who reads this thing, but I can’t help it. I mean you no offense, I promise. I also feel all over the place with my anti-American Idol rant. I know I’m arguing against 50 different things at once and all at cross purposes with myself, like a Libertarian in Congress or something, but I saw red. I’m calming down now.

I fully expect Billy to murder me now.

Baseball Season, Day 2

Baseball season is here (kind of)! Spring training is over (kind of)! In actuality, there are still a smattering of spring training games left before Opening Day, but with MLB doing all kinds of wacky things these days, the season got off to a start in Japan yesterday with a two-day series between my beloved Oakland Athletics and the hated Boston Red Sox.

But because the games were played in Tokyo, a full 11 hours ahead of us here on the east coast, I’ve had to wake up at 6 a.m. for baseball the past two days. Not easy. I am not a morning person, but it’s hard to catch the A’s on TV on a year where they’re good, much less a year when expectations are low due to a youth movement in its first year.

So I did it, with the help of some natural excitement and some black coffee, and it was worth every second. After a frustrating first day (Oakland played well, but dropped the game in the ninth inning), everything was working perfectly today.

Rich Harden, the staff ace who seems perpetually injury-plagued, was lights out. He struck out nine batters in six innings, walked just three and allowed a single run on a solo shot by Manny Ramirez. If Harden stays healthy this year (a big if) it literally means the difference between finishing above .500 or below.

After watching this team two days in a row, I have few of the doubts that many baseball columnists in the A’s native Bay Area have. With the exception of closer Huston Street, the few veterans who are left (second baseman Mark Ellis, pitchers Joe Blanton and Rich Harden, outfielder Emil Brown, and even shortstop Bobby Crosby) have already played at or above expectations. Many of the young players, especially catcher Kurt Suzuki, first baseman Daric Barton and third base fill-in Jack Hannahan have either held their own or produced right out of the gate. The bullpen, with the exception of Street, looks fine. The only question mark is the rest of the starting rotation. But there are enough options there to make me feel confident about the year ahead.

I know it’s just two games, but these were two games against the best team in baseball. Two games in which Oakland’s young offense scored 10 runs against the best team in baseball. And the young players who didn’t make the team (heralded prospects Gio Gonzalez and Carlos Gonzales [not related]) only make the future look brighter.

I know. There’s still a chance that injuries could decimate the team. There’s still a chance (a probability, actually) that some of the young guys will struggle as the league adjusts to them. There’s still a chance that General Manager Billy Beane will trade move Blanton and Harden at the trade deadline for a cache of top prospects, solidifying his goal of gunning for championships in 2010 or 2011.

But there’s an (optimistically speaking, I know) equal chance that this team plays above .500 ball for the first four months of the season and is just a bat or a glove away from the playoffs this year.

When Beane moved four players (one of whom was the American League’s starting pitcher in the 2007 All Star Game) during the offseason, fans and observers both started writing the obituary for the 2008 team. Looks like that may have been a little premature. Now I know I’m being optimistic, but this may be the only time Oakland leads the American League West in wins all year. Give me some wiggle room here.

Anyway, I’m wide awake (it was like five cups of coffee) and I’ve got a lot of work to do today. But I couldn’t be more excited that it’s baseball season. Go A’s!

Tell me your Thai House memories

In my story about the Thai House fire, I’d like to have some comments from people who frequented the restaurant.

If you’re reading this and you’re one of those people and would like to be quoted, you can either leave me a comment here, send me an email at anderson@sanfordherald.com or call me at 919-718-1221.

I’ll be in the office until about 6:30. Thanks!

Terrible News

I had a blog all planned out about how I got up early to watch my baseball team on the first day of the regular season, but I got some horrible news just new: One of my favorite restaurants in town was destroyed last night by fire.

Firefighters responded last night to the Thai House at 1834 S. Horner Blvd. but we unable to extinguish the fire before it damaged the building beyond repair.

“They’re out of business,” said Sanford Fire Chief Wayne Barber. “That building was gutted.”

Barber said firefighters were still looking to determine the cause of the fire. Nobody was inside at the time, as Barber said both the restaurant and the insurance agency next door had been closed since before the Sunday holiday. The insurance agency suffered some smoke damage, Barber said.

I feel terrible. Even though I loved that place, I hadn’t been since my birthday in December. I haven’t gotten to speak to the owner yet, and when I do I’m sure that he won’t have plans in mind yet, but my sincere hope is that he’ll be able to rebuild his business.

The staff at Thai House has always been attentive and kind and genuinely glad that you showed up. Much like other family-owned restaurants in the area, I felt good eating there. It’s easier to give your money to someone you feel like you know a little bit than a faceless entity like Ham’s or Applebee’s (don’t worry, I like those places too, but you know what I mean).

My heart goes out to the people affected by this fire and I hope they make a full recovery.

Next Week: Richard Burr

Just discovered I’m going to have an opportunity on Monday to interview U.S. Sen. Richard Burr, North Carolina’s junior senator.

Burr isn’t up for re-election this year, but he’s going to be in Sanford for an event and is going to stop by to answer a few questions for me.

I had a chance to meet Burr when he was campaigning for his seat in 2000. Look for my interview with him in Tuesday’s Herald.

Barack Obama in Fayetteville

Today I attended Barack Obama’s speech on national security and foreign affairs at Fayetteville Technical Community College.

Sure, we could have used wire copy and photos, but how often do you get to see a serious contender for the presidency up close? So for me and our photographer Brooke, it was off to Fayetteville (not my favorite place in the world) at 8 a.m. today.

There’s a lot of hassle in covering a presidential campaign up close: You have to get media credentials. You have to go through layer after layer of security. You have to deal with campaign volunteers who want you to stand here or there and then move here or there a few minutes later. You’re not the only reporter in the room, which is a little ego-crushing (media-types are cocky, I know, and when you put 100 or so of them in the same room, there’s a lot of self-important phone-checking and backslapping and over-confident laughter that can really make you a little sick). You have to wait and wait and wait.

But it’s worth it. It’s fun. Seeing someone in person is a lot different than seeing them on TV, and it’s something I recommend.

When Brooke and I got to Fayetteville Tech, I saw a van for some AM radio station emblazoned with the huge faces of two guys I can’t stand, but listen to all the time: Rush Limbaugh and Sean Hannity. What bothers me about these guys isn’t their conservatism, but their blatant and repeated disregard for the truth. Naturally, I couldn’t resist getting Brooke to snap a picture of me with them.

Anyway, after getting through the security and a snarky doorman (“The Sanford Herald? You guys must be here for all 12 of your readers.”) we sat down and found that it was 9:15 a.m. Obama wasn’t set to speak for another hour. In fact, he didn’t take the stage until about 11 (which was about 20 minutes after some campaign volunteer walked by and gave me what she called a “five minute warning.”).

During all that downtime, Brooke and I watched all the media types mill about, out-importanting one another. For crying out loud, I thought. The place could have done without more than half of them, Brooke and myself included. At least we were providing content for our readers, though. I guarantee a good many of them were just there to feel important. I saw Anderson Cooper at one point. He looked really serious. And short.

Anyway, Obama’s speech was very good. He’s a heck of a speaker, even if I don’t agree with all of his positions, and it was good to see a candidate put some effort into North Carolina. You can read a transcript of the speech (which contains several detailed proposals on foreign policy issues including the Iraq war, the broader war on terror, and diplomacy with enemies like Iran and North Korea) at my boss Billy’s blog.

I’m not saying publicly who I support, although a little scouring of the Herald staff blogs could probably give you an idea, if you care, so that’s not what this blog is about. I just wanted to give you some insight on what it’s like to cover an event like this and have an up-close encounter with a person who might one day be president (my others, so far, include one-time presidential candidates Bob Dole, Elizabeth Dole and John Edwards).

My story about the speech will be in tomorrow’s paper.

Coming Soon: Obama speech

Billy kind of jumped the gun in pushing my Barack Obama blog, so for any of you who might be clicking here looking for it and wondering who that Julian Lennon dweeb is, rest assured I’m working on it and will post as soon as I am able.

Thanks for reading.

Too Late For Goodbyes

What was your first favorite song? I was talking last night with some people about this, people who said they couldn’t remember having a favorite song at age 4, but I vividly remember mine: “Too Late For Goodbyes” by Julian Lennon.

I can clearly remember getting excited every time I heard it on the radio. That was before I understood that radio played the same songs over and over and over. The only other song I can clearly remember from that era is Tina Turner’s “What’s Love Got To Do With It?”

I thought it was a man singing.

Anyway, my conversation last night got me thinking about Julian Lennon and that song, so I looked it up on youtube. Sure enough, there was a “live” performance (lip-synced) that’s of pretty questionable quality.

My 2008 assessment: Still a pretty cool song, although Julian looks like a real wet end. Toward the end, some of the instrumentation gets pretty hilarious, especially the bass with its attempts at funkiness. He looks and sounds just like his father, which is what I imagine made this a hit in 1984.

Anyway, enjoy: