Page 3 of 28

The World Without Albany, NY

November 29, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

Albany marked on a map of New York State.

Or as we call it around here, Smallbany.

Yes, I reside in our titular city. I have most of my life. We don’t have the glamor of Los Angeles, the thrill of New Orleans, or the sleaze of Philadelphia, but we’ve got…umm, other stuff. In this article, we’ll explore this great city’s hypothetical absence further.

So, without further ado, in a world without Albany…

…America Wouldn’t Exist

Before you scoff, just remember that one of the 56 signers of the Declaration of Independence was a cat named Philip Livingston, who happened to be an Albany native. Without him, were those other 55 white guys really going to sign the paper? My imagination says no…

Independence Hall in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. The Founding Fathers sit around debating stuff.

Samuel Adams: Pass me another Cold Snap.

Benjamin Franklin: Somebody cut that guy off. And where the hell is Livingston?

Thomas Jefferson: Late. He’s coming from Albany. 87 is brutal this time of day.

Benjamin Franklin: That’s the city with the Empire State Plaza buildings that look like a bunch of radiators, right?

Benjamin Rush: Those don’t exist yet. And neither does I-87. Now are we gonna sign this thing or what? I gotta rush home.

John Hancock: I’m down. I’ve been practicing my signature.

Benjamin Franklin: Yeah, we know, Hancock. But we’ve got to wait. We can’t sign anything without Livingston.

Benjamin Rush: Why not?

John Adams: Because then we’d only have 55 signers.

Benjamin Rush: So?

Thomas Jefferson: Because we already commissioned the monument, and I’m not paying for touch-ups, okay? Let’s just wait for Livingston.

Josiah Bartlett: Hear, hear.

Benjamin Franklin: Who are you again?

You get the idea. Without Albany there’s no Philip Livingston, and without Philip Livingston, there’s no Declaration of Independence. You’re welcome, America.

…High School English Students Would Be More Cheerful

And I don’t just mean those from Albany. You see, in many American high school English classes, students are forced to read Moby-Dick by Herman Melville. I’ve only met a single person in my life who enjoyed that book: My dad. (Shoutout to my dad.) For everyone else, the 50-page descriptions of whale blubber aren’t exactly thrilling.

What does all this boredom have to do with Albany? Well, Mr. Melville earned his adolescent education at Albany Academy (where I also worked as a camp counselor for, like, seven summers, NBD). Without Albany there’d be no education, and without the education there’d be no book, and without the book there’d be less drudgery for subsequent high school students. And if they could destroy Albany just to spare themselves from Moby-Dick, I think some would.

…New York City Would Be the State’s Capital

Non-New Yorkers might be surprised to recall this, but no, the Big Apple is not the state’s capital. It’s Albany. Yet without the latter, the capital wouldn’t be Buffalo or Rochester or Syracuse. Saratoga, maybe. But in all likelihood, it would be NYC.

I love the City, but it already has enough going for it, such as the New York Stock Exchange, the Statue of Liberty, New Year’s Eve celebrations, Madison Square Garden, and the New York Yankees.

By comparison, what does Albany have aside from being the capital? We have Nipper, a 28-foot tall replica terrier that sits atop a building downtown. And that’s about it, as evidenced by my next point.

…My Wife Would Have More To Do

When Sara and I considered moving back to Albany in 2016, she asked me to describe the city. Here’s my comprehensive list of amenities:

“Well, there’s the Egg, the mastodon museum, and the Magic store.”

The Egg is a performing arts center downtown that resembles an egg yolk, hence the name. The mastodon museum is my shorthand for The New York State Museum, which boasts the skeleton of a mastodon. And the Magic store is Flipside Gaming, a local hobby shop I patronize every few months so I can lose at the popular trading card game Magic: The Gathering.

For Sara, this wasn’t much of a sales pitch. I’m surprised she still wanted to move, because we were leaving Denver, Colorado, a far cooler town. Yet she joined me nonetheless, and we’ve been here ever since. I consider myself very lucky.

…Sports Franchises Would Go Somewhere Else to Die

Albany is famous for attracting third-rate professional sports teams that leave after a handful of years. It happened to the River Rats, the Devils, the Firebirds, and most recently—and painfully—to the Empire.

I loved the Albany Empire, albeit mostly from a comedy standpoint. My good buddies Jeremy and Ryan had season tickets with their family, so they’d sometimes invite me to games.

These games weren’t only entertaining—they were educational. After all, we learned new rules every time we attended. Did you know players could catch touchdown passes off the screen behind the goalposts, almost like a bank shot in basketball? We didn’t, either…until the Empire did it.

The team boasted numerous memorable characters, including a guy with the nickname “Boom-Boom” (can’t remember his legal name) who celebrated touchdowns by standing on the logo and pretending to rev a push lawnmower. It was transcendent.

But of all the characters on the Albany Empire, the greatest was the quarterback, Tom Grady. Not Brady. Grady. Jeremy and I designed shirts with the B crossed out and replaced with a G. I still wear mine.

Though Grady wasn’t quite as successful as his NFL counterpart, he still put up stats (number six all-time in passing yards and number five in passing touchdowns, according to ArenaFan.com). One time he was signing autographs on the sidelines prior to a big-time game (one-dollar hot dog night), and Jeremy and I would’ve asked for his signature on our custom-made shirts, if only the other autograph-seekers weren’t 12-year-old children. Later, in 2019, Grady led the Empire to the ArenaBowl XXXII title. The fans even stormed the field, which was the greatest moment in Albany history since earning a shoutout in the Erie Canal song.

Sadly, a less savory character arrived to ruin it all: Antonio Brown.

You might remember AB as an electrifying wide receiver for the Pittsburgh Steelers, an equally electrifying complainer for the Oakland Raiders (for whom he never played a snap), and an even more electrifying quitter for the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. After the NFL gave up on him, you might’ve thought he’d start a cult or something. Instead, he became the majority owner of the Albany Empire.

This was fun at first, since famous people avoid Albany like my cats avoid my dog. However, based on Brown’s previous behavior, everyone knew where this was going. And it went there.

Brown started by failing to pay players, then cutting them when they complained. The Empire’s coaching staff was no exception to this merciless treatment; according to a brilliant ESPN story chronicling the whole sad affair, the team had three different head coaches in a five-game stretch. AB wasn’t paying his league dues, either, and with seven games still left to play on the schedule in 2022, the league voted out the Empire. And once again, Albany lost a pro team.

That ended up being a long anecdote. But few momentous events happen in Albany, so we’ve got to celebrate them all, even the failures. Especially the failures.

…My Family Would Have Fewer Hilarious Stories of Bureaucratic Dysfunction

Both my parents worked for New York State, so they’ve got hours of content on this subject. For instance, my mom worked in the Department of Education (shoutout to my mom), and during one meeting, the office brass distributed newly designed business cards, stressing how important and paradigm-shifting they would be. Then someone raised their hand.

“You spelled ‘education’ wrong,” they said.

Now if that isn’t a moment straight out of The Office, I don’t know what is.

…The Movie Salt Would Not Exist

Salt is a middling 2010 action-thriller starring Angelina Jolie as a spy or something. Fact is, the only reason I watched Salt is because it features a pivotal chase sequence shot in Albany. Evidently, ours was the only city willing to shut down its multi-tiered highway system for several days, just for some cash and a “special thanks” in the credits.

Though the scene is supposed to take place in Washington, DC, you can spot numerous Albany landmarks in the background, including the aforementioned New York State Museum and a decaying warehouse that’s stood downtown since I was a kid. Albany wins again.

…I Wouldn’t Exist, Either

There’s no me without Albany, and I’m not just saying that because it rhymes. I was born at Albany Med and have lived here pretty much all my life, so without it, I wouldn’t be here, and you wouldn’t be reading this, and you’d never know about Philip Livingston, and that would be sad for all involved.

…The World Would Be Far Less Interesting

Albany might not be one of the premier cities in the country, but it’s home. Here’s hoping our next sports franchise fares a little better.

Kyle A. Massa is a comedy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

You can read more from the “World Without” blog series here. And if you want to see a specific topic, email kyle@kyleamassa.com.

911, What’s Your Emergency?

November 19, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

An animated GIF of a 911 call making a smartphone buzz.

Here in the United States, if you’ve got an emergency, you’re probably calling one of two numbers: 911, or your mother. In this blog post, we’ll discuss the former.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

This is how 911 operators always answer the phone, and I think it’s a good policy. Otherwise, you might have situations like this…

…[Dial tone.]…

“Hello?”

“HELP! The call was coming from inside the house and now some masked psychopath is trying to murder me!”

“I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong number. This is Arby’s. May I take your order?”

You may be wondering how my hypothetical victim dialed Arby’s instead of an emergency hotline, and the simple answer is, I have no idea. Anyway, that’s not the point. The point is, modern 911 operators know what they’re doing.

You can see it in their choice of question. “What’s your emergency?” Presumptuous, maybe, but also warranted, considering one only calls in dire situations. Surely nobody would ever do something like this…

…[Dial tone.]…

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“Just watching the Giants game. You?”

“This number is for emergencies only.”

“I know, that’s why I called. Have you seen Tommy DeVito play quarterback?”

The “what’s your emergency line” isn’t one of those movie inventions, by the way. It’s real. I’ve had occasion to call the police twice in my life, and I assure you, these are the first words spoken when you call.

Now if you’re a cold-hearted individual, that might give you an idea. You might wonder if this job could be outsourced to AI. After all, if all one does is utter a pre-written line and record information, couldn’t that task be automated?

I certainly hope not. Imagine, for example, you found yourself in a life-or-death situation, and when you called 911 looking for help, Siri answered. Here’s the transcript of your conversation…

…[Dial tone.]…

“Siri here, what’s your emergency?”

“Help me, Siri, the masked psychopath has returned! I’m being murdered again!”

“On it…”

“Huh?”

“Here’s what I found on the web for ‘masked psychopath.'”

Then she’d serve you results for discount Halloween costumes, which would be great if only you weren’t getting disemboweled.

With Siri, this is par for the course. I frequently ask her questions (e.g. “At what level does Charizard learn Flamethrower?”), and rather than giving me a straight answer, she farms out the work to a web search. It could be worse—she could be using Bing instead of Google. But there’s never any compassion, which is why I don’t want Siri or any other AI fielding my call. I want a trained operator, dammit.

I know I took a jab at movies a few paragraphs ago, but if we’ve learned anything from them, it’s that 911 operators are dedicated individuals, albeit a little psycho-obsessive sometimes. For a perfect example, see Jake Gyllenhaal in The Guilty. If you’re in a pinch, you’d prefer someone who will literally—spoiler—go to jail for you. Not freaking Siri.

So here’s to all the 911 operators out there. You’re all heroes, or at least better at your job than AI would be. I salute you, I commend you, and when you ask me what my emergency is, I’ll gladly tell you. And thanks for asking.

The World Without Halloween

October 31, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

Halloween

This article might be controversial. After all, Halloween is a beloved holiday. In fact, in terms of belovedness, it’s right up there with Thanksgiving, Christmas, and International Juggling Day. Maybe not that last one.

But hey, this series is often about appreciating subjects through their hypothetical absence. So let’s start appreciating. In a world without Halloween…

…Michael Myers Would Actually, Really, Seriously Be Dead

Because he’d never exist. Get it?

For the record, I wouldn’t mourn. Though most regard John Carpenter’s 1978 slasher film Halloween as an all-time classic, I think it’s overrated. I recognize everything it did for the genre, but I find it tiresome when Mikey survives for, like, the 13th time.

Speaking of 13, that’s how many Halloween films exist. I’m not exaggerating. I’ve only seen the original, so I can’t vouch for the rest, yet something tells me Rob Zombie shouldn’t be making movies. That said, his and all the Halloween movies are undeniably lucrative; they’ve grossed a collective $885,966,037 worldwide, according to Wikipedia.

Imagine what filmgoers might’ve spent all that money on instead. Probably a different holiday-themed horror franchise, like an ornery cyclist who runs people off the road to their dooms on National Bicycle Day (Google assures me this is an actual day). I’d call it Cycle of Violence. Hey, did I just become a multi-million dollar movie executive?

…Trick-or-Treating Wouldn’t Be a Thing

This would be a massive blow to the Candy Industrial Complex, which invented Halloween just to clear their back stock of Baby Ruths. But won’t someone please think of the children? They are the ones who would suffer most. For kids, Halloween ranks higher on the grand fun meter than Paw Patrol, bounce houses, and TikTok.

…Well, maybe not TikTok. But if it does, that’s really saying something.

…No More Costumes, Either

Everybody loves dressing up for Halloween. Except me.

One year, for example, my mom spent hours doing my Count Dracula makeup. She’s a painter, by the way, so it was excellent. However, I took one look at myself in the mirror and became terrified of my reflection (ironic, considering I was a vampire). My poor mom watched as all her hard work went down the drain—literally. Ever since, I’ve been a curmudgeon with costumes. Sorry, Mom.

However, I believe I’m in the minority on that. Many people enjoy donning their Halloween costumes, including NFL fans attending games on or near our titular holiday. I once spotted a man in the stands wearing an Aaron Rodgers jersey overtop a Minion costume jeering at Kirk Cousins while drinking a Pabst. It was quite the sight.

…There Would Be No Controversies Over Halloween Candy

Might not be a bad thing, considering these are some of our dumbest controversies. Every year, people earnestly argue that candy corn is a quality candy, or isn’t, then get outraged by the response. This is about as productive as pounding one’s head against a door—and likely has a similar effect on the brain. That said, I just poked fun at Baby Ruths a few paragraphs back, so I’m part of the problem.

…Horror Movies Would Diminish in Popularity (Slightly)

We all know half the fun of Halloween is watching scary movies with loved ones (or, if you happen to be crowded into a theater with noisy strangers, hated ones).

To be clear, horror movies are eternal, and I would never suggest that killing Halloween would kill their popularity. But there’s no doubt this would reduce it, at least a little. After all, what other time of year would horror movie viewership peak? Spring? Too hopeful. Winter? Too Christmas-y. Summer? Too packed with Marvel movies. Halloween, and fall in general, is just right.

…The Dark Knight Wouldn’t Exist

At least not in its current form. That’s because the film’s plot was inspired by Batman: The Long Halloween by Jeph Loeb & Tim Sale, a graphic novel that features a killer who murders on holidays, starting with—you guessed it—Halloween.

Without Halloween there’s no comic, and without the comic there’s no inspiration, meaning Christopher Nolan and co. would have to look elsewhere for ideas, perhaps returning to the campiness of the Adam West Batman. Somehow, I don’t think Shark Repellent Bat Spray jives with, “Some men just want to watch the world burn.”

Furthermore, speaking from personal experience, losing this film would be a tremendous blow, not least of all because I saw it four times in theaters. Being a high school sophomore at the time, I was convinced it was the greatest movie ever made by anyone, ever. I’ve since decided that distinction belongs to Troll 2, but Dark Knight is still in my top 10.

…Your Neighbors Would Have More Lawn Space

This one is self-explanatory.

…The World Would Be Far Less Interesting

Happy Halloween! Hope you enjoy all that candy corn.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include five books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

You can read more from the “World Without” blog series here. And if you want to see a specific topic, email kyle@kyleamassa.com.

For the Love of the Gut

October 9, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

A cartoon GIF of a stomach—or some may say the "gut"—digesting a hamburger.

Gut.

It’s a word that’s existed for centuries, though nowadays it’s become more popular than ever (or maybe I’m just noticing it more). My question is this: Why?

It’s not like “gut” is a descriptive term. It’s unpleasant to hear—and to say, for that matter. Try saying it. “Gut.” It’s so guttural.

Furthermore, this word always gives me the same visual: Someone’s soft, flabby stomach getting slapped and/or punched. “Slugged in the gut.” That’s what comes to mind.

Despite its shortcomings, I hear this term everywhere, especially in the fields of sports, nutrition, and dating. “Gut check.” “Great for your gut health.” “Do you have a fire in your gut?”

That last question was recently posed by Arizona Cardinals head coach Jonathan Gannon. He was addressing a roomful of NFL players, and his speech was meant to be a motivational rallying cry and/or a practical joke. Either way, millions of internet pundits found it hilarious, including me, partly because of Gannon’s gratuitous invocation of the “gut.”

It only gets worse in health contexts. “Gut health” has become a catchall term for the stomach, or maybe the gastrointestinal system, or maybe, I dunno, the gallbladder. I’m uncertain because so-called “health experts” on Instagram insist on using the word in all their content, though they never define it. It’s like a contractor pointing at your roof and saying, “Your house has a leaky hat.” There’s no faster way to kill your credibility.

Aside from sports and health, the place I hear “gut” most often is on the Bachelor franchise, which is the most damming evidence one can present. Contestants on the show constantly refer to their gut as if it’s a personal confidant, e.g. “At the end of the day, I had to go with my gut.”

This conjures an image of the gut as a wise counselor, some shriveled, pink, slimy mass of tissue in your abdomen that holds a notepad and wears glasses. When you present a moral quandary to your gut such as, “Should I trust Chad even though he has toxic masculinity issues?”, your gut replies with a sagely, “No, but the producers will appreciate it if you keep him around a few more weeks.”

In this context, the gut is like one’s own personal Yoda, only it can’t use the Force and its home address lies somewhere between your pancreas and spleen.

Or not. And this is my issue with the term to begin with. Its meanings are so varied it has no meaning.

According to the New Oxford American Dictionary, for instance, the noun “gut” has five different definitions, from “entrails that have been removed or exposed in violence or by a butcher” to “a narrow passage or strait.” It’s also applicable as a verb, or as a component of common phrases such as “hat[ing] someone’s guts.”

Is it possible to hate the guts of the word “gut”? Because I’m getting there.

I believe the primary application of the word should be comedic, and more specifically, ironic. For example, if you were to say, “I went with my gut and gave myself a gut check because there’s a fire in my gut, and I should probably go to the hospital to get it checked out,” then I salute you. Otherwise, I think it’s overused.

So next time you’re tempted to use the G-word, heed my warning. It might just change your life.

One-Sentence Story Notes for “Mild Buffoonery”

September 27, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

My dog Osi (pictured above) recently read my new book, Mild Buffoonery. Her review: “Woof.”

Hopefully that’s positive. I don’t speak dogish. All I can tell you for certain is that Mild Buffoonery is a collection of humorous essays on topics ranging from parenting to music to sports to reminiscence about a cruise I took a decade ago. In other words, I think I’ve really lived up to the title.

If you haven’t read the book yet, maybe these one-sentence story notes will get you interested. If you’ve already read it, maybe these notes will deepen your appreciation (or distaste). Either way, that’s enough stalling from me. Let’s get to the essays!

“A Dad’s Review of Disney on Ice”

After posting this story to my blog and getting a warm reception, I became inspired to write this entire book.

“Irrational Fears of the Possibly Supernatural”

Ghost sightings always make for good stories—even in nonfiction.

“The Land of Buckets and Honey”

I enjoy essays with strange subjects, and I don’t think it gets any stranger than porta-potties.

“Grand Theft Auto: Nassau Edition”

Thus far, this has proven to be the book’s most popular entry, despite potential embarrassment for myself and/or my dad.

“Is All Art Really Quite Useless?”

I wrote this piece on my blog several years ago, though I added three mini-stories here to underscore my points and make it feel more substantive.

“Hilarity at the Movies (Accidentally)”

“What? No!”

“Famous Person”

My wife Sara is fairly unimpressed with celebrities (unless they happen to be Tim Shriver), so I really tried to win her over with this one.

“The Return of the Albany Book Festival”

I was trying to write my version of David Foster Wallace’s “Ticket to the Fair,” in which the author wanders around making witty observations, though I’m unsure if I succeeded.

“Hot Sauce and the Importance of Humor”

I often write in fits and starts, finding dead ends and doubling back until I discover the proper route, yet this was one of those rare pieces that simply flowed.

“In the Absence of a Drum Kit, Tabletops Are a Decent Substitute”

Perhaps the most Sedarisian essay of the bunch, specifically reminding me of “The Understudy,” in which the author vividly describes a bizarre babysitter.

“The Losers’ Game”

My editor, Matt Price, described this one has the most “wistful” essay in the collection, and I think he’s spot-on.

“Giving Thanks for the Applause”

I tried expanding this one, but after re-reading it several times, I concluded its brevity was a strength, not a flaw.

“I Admire Poets”

I think the lengthy digression in the middle of this essay adds flavor to what’s already a fairly tasty entry—and if food isn’t poetry, I don’t know what is.

“Three Hours and 64 Ounces”

I apologize in advance; this is the second essay in the book centered around bathroom humor.

“Sideburns”

I like this piece because it’s specific yet universal, in that most of us wear styles in the past that embarrass us in the present.

“A Tale of Two Gigs”

Yes, the band is still around, but no, we haven’t returned to Randy’s.

“Remembering Gizzvember”

Perhaps the most self-indulgent essay of the bunch—and considering the aforementioned one about porta-potties, that’s really saying something.

“Five Rules of Karaoke (Plus One More)”

Nostalgia is a powerful force.

“Why Tapas Restaurants Fill Me With Nothing But Rage”

Probably better described as a rant than an essay.

“Slut Life”

Proof that I need a stronger optical prescription.

“Birds, Bets, and Sarcastic Texts”

I’ve changed my mind—this is my favorite entry in the book.

“On Being Descended from an Extreme Cheapskate”

After years of wanting to write about Jeff Yeager, I finally found the opportunity.

Grab Your Copy

Ready to read Mild Buffoonery? It’s available in ebook, paperback, and hardcover from tons of places. Get your copy today!

A New Book, and This Time, It’s Personal (Essays)

September 15, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

Greetings reader,

I’m happy to report that Mild Buffoonery is available right now in ebook, paperback, and hardcover. There’s no film adaptation, but we’re working on the script.

I’m pleased to report that early readers have commended its “good humor,” “fun and lighthearted writing style,” and its “essential contributions to humankind rivaled only by the wheel.” (That last one was completely fabricated.) It even peaked at number 25 on Amazon’s Rural Life Humor category, which I consider a major victory.

In no particular order, here are some of my personal favorite excerpts from the book:

You get the idea. You can purchase your digital copy right on my website, paperback at Amazon, or hardcover at Barnes & Noble. (Note: The B&N link is active as I write this, but I think they’re still building it. Might want to check back an a bit if it’s not active.)

Whatever you choose, thank you for reading. I hope you enjoy it!

Best,

Kyle

P.S. I’ll be reading some essays from the book live this Sunday, September 17, at 10am EST. Hope to see you there!

A New Hope: My 2023 New York Giants Season Preview

September 10, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

New York Giants quarterback Daniel Jones calls an audible at the line of scrimmage.

All-Pro Reels, CC BY-SA 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons

Football season is back, and this time, I promise not to be emo. Yes, if you joined me last September, you might’ve noticed a certain nihilism regarding my New York Giants.

…Not this year, baby. This year, we’ve got the Coach of the Year!

All Hail Brian Daboll

After suffering six seasons of being coached by an underachiever, a clown, and a man wielding a Denny’s menu, the Giants finally hired a legitimate head coach in Brian Daboll. I wish I could say I’d been a fan of the decision.

I wasn’t. In fact, before last season began, I described Daboll’s hiring as a “dubious offseason move.”

I’ve never been happier to be wrong. Though there were many reasons for the Giants 9-7-1 record, Daboll was the most impactful. Unlike his predecessors, his game management was excellent, his game plans were even better, and he maximized a below average roster. Which brings me to my next point.

A Not-Below-Average Roster

Yes, it’s improving. General Manager Joe Schoen and his staff were singing “Hello Goodbye” this offseason to the following players:

Goodbyes

Nick Gates signed with the Washington Commanders, for some reason.
Jon Feliciano joined the San Francisco 49ers, which seems like a good decision.
Richie James went to the Kansas City Chiefs, where he will now drop passes from Patrick Mahomes.
Fabian Moreau departed for the Denver Broncos, though he might return to the Giants after spending a day or two around Russell Wilson.
Julian Love left us for the Seattle Seahawks, and that feels like a legit loss.

Hellos

Deonte Banks was drafted in the first round, which should address a glaring hole.
John Michael Schmitz was drafted in the second, a move ESPN described as “an excellent pick in terms of value and filling a need.”
Jalin Hyatt arrived in the third round, and the dude’s got wheels.
Parris Campbell, Jamison Crowder, and Cole Beasley all add depth at receiver.
Bobby Okereke comes from the Indianapolis Colts, and he’s improved every season.

The Helloest Hello Award goes to tight end Darren Waller, who came over in a trade from the Las Vegas Raiders. Waller’s a high-ceiling, low-floor guy; his ceiling is Willy Wonka’s Glass Elevator (1,196 yards and nine touchdowns in 2020), while his floor is the basement from Barbarian, since he gets injured so much. That metaphor didn’t really work, but whatever—it’s very on-brand for Waller to be questionable for tonight’s game.

On the brighter side, the Giants re-signed Saquon Barkley, Daniel Jones, and Dexter Lawrence, all of whom made huge strides last season.

So, after a year in which they weren’t all that talented, the Giants suddenly have a solid roster. The question is, will this translate to another successful campaign?

My Prognostication

It’s strange to write this, but I’m feeling good about this team. They’ve got more talent, a great coaching staff, and even a reliable quarterback.

If you told me last year that the Giants would sign Daniel Jones to four years and $160 mil, I might’ve vomited. But thanks to the tutelage of Master Daboll, Jones set career highs in passing and rushing yards, completion percentage, and games played, while setting career lows in turnovers. Plus, he did it all with a lousy offensive line and the league’s worst receiving core. With both those units improved, Danny Dimes should improve with them.

In fact, the only compelling argument I’ve heard to counter a successful Giants season is their schedule. FanDuel set their Over/Under at 7.5 wins, which is shockingly low (not to mention hurtful). Their schedule will be harder, yes—but Week 1 schedules are notoriously unreliable.

Take last year’s Giants themselves, for example. They performed far above preseason expectations, while teams like the Broncos and Packers performed far below.

Looking at the Giants schedule, I see similar possibilities. Are we sure Seattle and Geno Smith can run back their success from last year? Are the Jets really going to be as formidable as their fans believe? Will Dallas be overhyped as usual? Bookies undervalued the Giants all season long last year, and I think they’re doing it again now.

Then there’s the albatross of the Eagles. If preseason hype alone could win a title, the Giants greatest divisional foe would already be hoisting the Lombardi Trophy. Sorry to break it to you, Philly fans, but the season just started. (If you don’t know my feelings about such people, you can learn more in this essay.)

They’ve got talent, yes, but they’ve centralized most of that talent around old guys. Jason Kelce? 35. Lane Johnson? 33. Brandon Graham? 35. Fletcher Cox? 32. I mean, I’m 31, and last month I suffered a random swollen toe with no clear origin, and I’m not even a pro athlete (as far as you know). Once a pro football player hits their 30s, injuries and regression are more likely than sustained success.

Also, the Birds lost their coordinators on both sides of the ball, and they might suffer a Super Bowl hangover. Am I claiming the Giants will finish with a better record than the Eagles? No, I think that’s unlikely (and possibly irrational). All I’m saying is, results aren’t guaranteed. Let’s play the games before we decide them.

Good Luck, Giants

The New York Giants season begins tonight at 8:20pm EST on NBC. Cris Collinsworth will probably still be talking about Patrick Mahomes, but we’ll have to tune in to find out.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include four books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

The World Without Taco Bell

August 21, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

The World Without Taco Bell

Would a world without Taco Bell be worth existing in?

I’m unsure, reader. But sometimes the best way to appreciate greatness is to imagine our lives without it. So, in the spirit of celebrating everybody’s favorite subpar brand of cheap, grade-D ground beef-based fast food, let’s start imagining. In a world without Taco Bell…

…There Would Be Far Fewer Five-Year-Old Taco Sauce Packets Stuffed Into Drawers

I love Taco Bell, but seriously, they give you way too many sauce packets. Sometimes they’ll stuff them in there without even asking, making me wonder how the bag doesn’t rip from the weight of all those individually packaged condiments. It feels like a waste to throw them out, so you’ll end up cramming them away, only to rediscover them years later in the dark recesses of your cabinets.

The good news is, there’s so much sodium packed inside that they’ll never go bad, no matter how many decades into the future you rediscover them. Enjoy!

…We’d Have Fewer Late-Night Options

We all know why people order food after midnight, and it’s not because they’re looking for fine cuisine. It’s because they’re drunk, high, or both, putting them in the perfect mind state to make bad decisions. Enter Taco Bell.

To be fair, Taco Bell is like Samuel Adams beer, in that it’s always a good decision…or maybe it’s simultaneously good and bad. Good in that it tastes good, bad in that it’s bad for you.

…Sylvester Stallone’s Acting Career Would’ve Ended

Let’s step back into the 90s for a moment. Sylvester Stallone is making a lot of movies, though few of them are any good. I mean, when’s the last time you watched Stop! Or My Mom Will Shoot? Other than 1993’s Cliffhanger, it’s a rough decade for the Italian Stallion. But there was another glimmer of hope: Demolition Man.

I first watched this movie with my dad, who specifically encouraged me to see it. When I asked him why, he answered, “You’ll see.”

In this sci-fi action flick, Stallone plays a reckless cop who’s cryogenically frozen in 1996 and thawed out in 2032, finding himself in a puritanical future. I enjoyed the explosions and the random cameo of Jack Black as “Wasteland Scrap #2.” But most of all, I enjoyed the police banquet scene.

Why? Because the banquet is catered by Taco Bell. Yes, according to Demolition Man, we can all look forward to a future where Taco Bell is given the respect it deserves. My dad knows me well.

In a world without the Bell, this movie would lose a critical plot point. And without this movie, Stallone would lose one of his only two good movies in the decade. Talk about Live Más.

…I’d Be Deprived of Treasured Childhood Memories

Once upon a time, there was a young lad who lived down the street from a combination KFC-Taco Bell restaurant.

The young lad’s favorite item on the menu was a combo meal of two chicken strips and two tacos, plus two sides of his choosing. This was not a healthy meal, nor was it high-quality, but it was delicious. Whenever the young lad’s parents asked him what he wanted for dinner, lunch, and sometimes breakfast, he’d answer, “A number six combo meal, please.”

When the young lad grew into a man (or at least a little less of a lad), his beloved KFC-Taco Bell closed down, ceding its building to an ostentatious conglomerate known as Starbucks. Nowadays, the man often drives past that Starbucks location, and when he does, he sighs longingly, thinking about what once was and what will never be.

In other words, down with Starbucks. Bring back my KFC-Taco Bell!

…I Would Lose Out on a Favorite College Tradition

Yes, the Bell has been a lifelong obsession. When I was a student at Ithaca College, for example, I formed a tradition for myself. I would stop at Ithaca’s Taco Bell (still thriving to this day), then order a chicken quesadilla and a Crunchwrap Supreme. Next, I’d head down the road to the nearest gas station and purchase a Monster energy drink. As you can see, I was a very health-conscious individual.

During my three-hour drive back to Albany, I’d eat, drink, and listen to an audiobook on my iPod Classic. This tradition was enjoyable for two reasons: First, because I got to eat Taco Bell, and second, because there were no viable rest stops between Ithaca and Albany, so I always made excellent time.

…Long John Silver’s Would Die

I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Long John Silver’s fast food location without a Taco Bell attached to it. This is likely a parasitic relationship, with Taco Bell being the proud lion on the savanna, and LJS being the tape worm living inside the lion’s colon.

…A Thriving Community Would Vanish

And I’m not talking about the Roanoke Colony. I’m talking about Taco Bell fans.

For people who revere the Bell, meeting another aficionado is a momentous occasion. For instance, my brother-in-law and I have had no fewer than 30 separate conversations about the greatness of Taco Bell. Sometimes we even discuss how long it’s been since we’ve last eaten there, often in sad and wistful tones.

And that’s not all. Have you been on the Taco Bell Instagram account lately? At least 20% of their posts are pics of people heading inside after attending prom or getting married. There’s even an online literary magazine called Taco Bell Quarterly that I desperately want to publish a story in. Wish me luck.

…The World’s Collective Happiness Would Decline by 6%

I’m docking one percentage point per decade Taco Bell has existed (the first Bell opened in 1962). We have to be scientific about these things.

…The World Would Be Far Less Interesting

So would a world without Taco Bell be worth existing in? Alright, fine, I guess so. But it certainly wouldn’t be the same. I, for one, am glad it’s still here.

You can read more from the “World Without” blog series here. And if you want to see a specific topic, email kyle@kyleamassa.com.

A Fan’s Review of King Gizzard’s New Album “PetroDragonic Apocalypse”

June 20, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

Album artwork by Jason Galea, converted to a pillow (for fun) by the author.

They promised it would be “heavy as fuck.” They weren’t lying.

PetroDragonic Apocalypse is here, and it spits pure fire. It’s the latest album from my new favorite band, King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, and I’ve got some thoughts about it.

Opening Remarks

Billed as a sequel to their 2019 thrash metal classic Infest the Rat’s Nest, PetroDragonic Apocalypse shares an unexpected lineage with a different Gizzard record: 2022’s Ice, Death, Planets, Lungs, Mushrooms and Lava. Ice Death is known for its long orchestrations, and we see them here with Petro, too; only “Gila Monster” runs shorter than five minutes. The rest are lengthier explorations, with “Motor Spirit,” “Dragon,” and “Flamethrower” all approaching double-digits.

Still, like Rat’s Nest, the album uses heavy riffs to underscore its apocalyptic lyrics, i.e. “coal-black cloud horizon,” “miasma of hair and bile.” You get the idea. The concept of environmentalism shines through once again, albeit in a fantasy milieu rather than the science fiction of Rat’s Nest or the aquatic bliss of Fishing for Fishies.

Petro emphasizes guitars and drums throughout, with a hint of synths and throbbing bass. Ambrose’s harmonica is absent, as is Stu’s flute (though honestly, the latter would’ve surprised me). A little disappointing, but certainly not enough to slay this dragon.

Now let’s take a track-by-track look.

1. “Motor Spirit”

Stu’s doing his best impersonation of a smoker on this song, which I’ll admit is not my favorite vocal delivery. Still, the riffs are nasty, especially when we enter the track’s third act at 4:55. The two-word lines here are effective: “Burnt rubber/Grave robber/Fire starter/Spark imparter.” Really makes you want to buy a Tesla.

2. “Supercell”

This one’s appeared on touring setlists for a while, so it’s nice to hear the “official” version. It’s pure energy, with a chugging central riff and a fun call-and-answer chorus featuring Amby and Joey. There’s a pretty cruel inversion of The Wizard of Oz in the first verse, too, with lines like “Bodies flying on a rainbow/Run Toto” and “Angle grinder, a welcome friend/Dorothy’s end.”

Such lyrics could get a little eye-rolley, but fortunately, Gizzard has a sense of humor about it. In an interview with Spin, Stu described Petro like this: “[It’s] about humankind and it’s about planet Earth but it’s also about witches and dragons and shit.” Even at their most dramatic, they show a healthy sense of self-deprecating self-awareness.

3. “Converge”

I’m actually one of the first people to hear this song—or see it, for that matter. They debuted it live at Boston Calling on May 28, and let me tell you, the crowd went nuts. Seriously. I almost got swallowed by the mosh pit.

The album version inherits that same energy, opening with rapid-fire mute-strumming and progressing into vaguely Shakespearean lyricism. Stu’s guttural bellow at 4:15 is a highlight.

4. “Witchcraft”

If MacBeth was a musical, it might’ve sounded like this. “Witchcraft” is perhaps the most fantastical they get on this album, complete with a guitar solo at 3:02 that conjures Ritchie Blackmore’s fretwork from Rainbow. I feel like there’s an excellent acoustic take on this track somewhere in the aether—or maybe that’s just wishful thinking after their June 4th acoustic show.

5. “Gila Monster”

This one feels the most like a Rat’s Nest track, waiting until the final 55 seconds to depart from its main theme. It’s also another number I saw live in Boston. I must say, there are few things in life more fun than screaming the word “gila” over and over.

6. “Dragon”

After initial skepticism, this has become my favorite track on the record. I never love when artists just repeat the song’s title and call it a chorus (feel’s like AC/DC at their laziest), and at 1:17, that’s where it seems like this track is going.

Yet at 2:42, we get an unexpected callback to “Tetrachromacy” from Polygondwanaland. Next, at 4:08, Stu growls these truly badass lyrics: “The eye dilates/The air gyrates/A gate in the sky/A portal to die,” leading into a chorus of evil backing vocals at 4:25. I assume they’re sung by Amby and/or Joey, though it honestly sounds more like a bunch of dwarves from Middle-earth (they’re speaking Latin, not Dwarven, but still). At 6:27, Cavs goes ham on the double bass drums.

I counted seven distinct acts in all, with the first and penultimate overlapping on a pseudo-80s-metal-style riff. This is an epic worthy of Mordor.

7. “Flamethrower”

The album’s closer is as heavy as the rest, though we get a surprising shift to spacier sounds at 4:19, first with Cavs on toms, then joined by some layered synths. At 7:40, we hear the return of “Motor Spirit,” fading out to the end. It’s a nifty callback, giving the album a circularity hearkening back to 2016’s Nonagon Infinity.

…Unless you have the vinyl edition, in which case you’ve got one more track.

8. “Dawn of Eternal Night”

This vinyl-exclusive, 14-minute epic is another collaboration with longtime Gizzard co-star Leah Senior, who you’ll remember from Murder of the Universe. So far as I can tell, there’s no digital version of this track, so alas, I haven’t heard it. Maybe someday I’ll dust off my record player—or perhaps they’ll play it live.

Closing Remarks

King Gizzard has greatly improved as metal musicians in the four years since Rat’s Nest. Where those songs were hook-based, four-minute compositions reliant on repetitive (albeit sick) guitar techniques, PetroDragonic Apocalypse is far more varied and daring. It reminds me of Black Sabbath’s Sabbath Bloody Sabbath, wherein the band leads each track with a heavy riff, then ventures off into new directions. It doesn’t always work—for example, “Converge” probably would’ve played better as a tighter song—but when it does, you get gems like “Motor Spirit” and “Dragon.”

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this little review of King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard’s PetroDragonic Apocalypse. Feel free to crank the volume.

Kyle A. Massa is a comic fantasy author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their daughter, and three wild animals. His published works include three books and several short stories. When he’s not writing, he enjoys reading, running, and drinking coffee.

Some Notes from Boston Calling 2023

May 31, 2023 / Kyle A. Massa

12:57pm

As I near the Harvard Athletic Complex for the third and final day of the Boston Calling Music Festival, I hear a Red Sox game playing on the radio. As a Yankees fan, I’m obligated to hate the Sox, yet instead, the broadcast gives the city a pleasant, cozy feel. I must be going soft.

1:24pm

Outside the Athletic Complex, I’m feeling a bit lost until I spot a guy about my age and an older woman (his mother?), both of them wearing King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard shirts. I follow them. These are my people.

1:36pm

As I combine with the tide of eager concertgoers, two things occur to me. First, that I must look like a complete tool, what with my clear drawstring bag packed with SPF 50 sunscreen, water bottle, and box of tissues. Second, that I forgot to pack my cough drops. (I’ve got some sort of cold.)

1:43pm

Juice opens the day on the Red Stage. They’re energetic and fun, with three lead singers and a guy on electric violin who’s absolutely nasty.

I try to navigate around a metal barrier protecting the center of the viewing area, but I’m informed that’s reserved for VIPs. Now I feel like a pleb.

1:43pm (continued)

Not even a full minute later, I leave this note for myself: “And by the way, where are the bathrooms?” I consult the festival app, but my phone is getting sluggish and I realize it must be overheating. So am I, since there’s a high of 87. Next priority: Finding something to drink.

1:53pm

I discover the bathrooms, which end up being a small village of portable toilets. On the way back to the Red Stage, I notice a woman in leather pants.

…Leather pants? I reiterate: It’s 87 degrees out. When does fashion supersede personal safety?

1:55pm

You know you’re in Boston when the line for the Dunkin Rewards Lounge is 100 people deep.

2:05pm

And now I purchase my first beverage of the day, a Truly Strawberry Banana hard seltzer. It costs $12.50, which really irks my inner cheapskate. What’s worse, it tastes not only bad, but slightly nauseating.

2:06pm

I find my way back to the stage to see Juice’s penultimate song. I decide their drummer looks like the son of David Bowie and Harry Styles.

2:19pm

There are some eccentric characters at this festival. Example: A shirtless guy with a green mohawk and tattoos of Pichu, Pikachu, and Raichu scattered across his back.

2:56pm

I next opt for a Twisted Tea, saving a whopping 50 cents compared to my previous purchase. This goes down much better.

3:30pm

The line for merch looks like a standing army. I give up on my idea of buying a new King Gizzard shirt.

3:41pm

I catch the Linda Lindas, again on the Red Stage (because it’s the only stage I can find). They urge people to “Stay hydrated!” Also, they ask, “Do y’all have a favorite kind of dinosaur?”

3:51pm

It’s hot as hell and everyone’s fighting for shade. I catch random snippets of conversation:

“Oh my god, I texted you, I said, ‘Where you at, bitch?'”
“I’m the Jacob that hates being called Jake.”
“Back in our day, it was weird to punch people in the face.”

4:02pm

Another Twisted Tea. I don’t feel so much as a buzz, probably because I’m instantly sweating out anything I put in.

4:14pm

I tally the shirts I spot. Gizzard count is at five, Taylor Swift count is at two. BTW, T-Swift isn’t playing at this event. I find it remarkable that her appearance in the film Cats hasn’t damaged her popularity whatsoever.

4:18pm

I search for the Blue Stage, because that’s where Gizz will be in about four hours. I catch a band called Brutus, a three-piece hard rock/heavy metal group that I like but don’t love. I sit on the grass with a bunch of other people, roasting like a turkey that’s paid for the privilege.

5:11pm

I return to my trusty Red Stage to find a band called Bleachers. With the singer’s tucked shirt and blue jeans, along with not one, but two saxophone players, I’m instantly reminded of the E-Street Band. Then the singer’s like, “I’m from New Jersey!”, and he invites his dad onstage to play a song, and I’m wondering if his dad is actually Bruce Springsteen.

(Addendum: He’s not.)

5:55pm

There’s a hidden stage. It’s called the Orange Stage, and I find it more or less on accident. Ali McGuirk sings there with three backing musicians, and they’re outstanding. I enjoy them all so much I forget to take notes.

6:34pm

A hairy man passes me, points at my chest, and asks, “You ready? You ready? You ready?” It’s only when he passes that I realize he’s talking about Gizzard. (The shirt count is up to nine, by the way.)

6:47pm

The merch line has not moved. At all. For all I know, those are the same people who were there this morning, now forever locked in a Sisyphean struggle for a new t-shirt.

7:08pm

While standing between the Red and Green Stages waiting for Queens of the Stone Age, I see him again.

“You ready? You ready? You ready?”

This time I’m ready. I accept his fist bump and say something to the effect of, “Yeah!” My voice is reedy and hoarse, not from screaming, but from that annoying cold.

7:10pm

Re: Maren Morris: She’s very talented, but I just can’t do country. I’m sorry. I can’t.

She’s playing the Green Stage while I wait for Queens at the Red. There’s a definite schism between these two fan bases. Nobody on my side is clapping, or even reacting, to her.

7:20pm

Queens of the Stone Age hits the Red Stage, and it occurs to me that, as a musician, you’re frequently photographed with your mouth wide open.

8:01pm

I leave Queens early to get a good spot for Gizzard. That ends up being the front-right of the Blue Stage, about 10 rows back. My right shoe sticks to the concrete.

8:10pm

20 minutes until showtime and the band’s already here. They’re practicing a song I don’t recognize, though only a few of their instruments are plugged in; all I hear is Lucas on bass and Cavs on drums (we’re on a first name/nickname basis). Could they be debuting a new song?

8:20pm

Gizz goes live. People go crazy, including me. A swirling mosh pit emerges, and I back up to avoid it. At some point, I stop taking notes.

10:05pm

A mass swarm for the exits. Paramore is still playing on the Green Stage, yet this crowd doesn’t seem to care. I overhear someone behind me say, “Aderol and weed was the perfect mix for Gizz.”

Glad he had fun. I did, too, though without the assistance of substances (unless you count the Twisted Tea). They did indeed debut a new song, and I was one of the first people to see it.

Now I need to get some sleep (and possibly a shower). I steel myself for the walk back.