Grannies, Post-Punk Funk, and Riding The 7 Out To Shea.

I just got back from doing some supermarket shopping at my local Shop-Rite, which is pretty skanky, but the closest and by far the cheapest supermarket to my house. I'll never go on a Sunday morning again. It's like Golden Girls meets MXC, with dozens of angry old ladies doing battle at the Deli counter, banging carts into the achilles tendons of unsuspecting shoppers, and driving their little-old-lady hoopties the wrong way down one-way parking lanes to save precious seconds on their quickly dwindling days on earth.

And don't get me started on the old-bag theory that 24 cans of cat food are exempt from the "10 Items Or Less" rule in the express aisle.

Despite my run-in with these Senior Hooligans, I'm still well-chuffed over a couple things...

Mets single game tickets went on sale this morning and the Gods of the Internets allowed me to somehow sneak in and score tickets for the Saturday afternoon Mets/Yankees game in May, as well as a set of tickets for Opening Day against Houston for my dad, brother and me. Pedro Martinez and Carlos Beltran have got me psyched this year.

Gang Of Four will be playing a smallish tour of the USA with a couple NYC dates at Irving Plaza lined up. If you dig Bloc Party, Radio 4, Franz Ferdinand, or 3/4 of the bands from Brooklyn right now, you'll recognize that the angular but funky bass and beat of their sound owes big to the Gang Of Four. I've seen them a couple times way back in the day, and really loved the shows. Loud, noisy, and groovy.

Did I mention I'm pumped for the Mets this year? So much so that I need to post a picture of my favorite Met ever, Mookie Wilson, right now.