Schiff Happens Has Officially Gone International [Fame]

Those of you who have stuck with me since the beginning might recall that around this time last year (almost to the day, wow), Schiff Happens rose to national prominence when I was featured in the New York Times as the world's foremost expert on defriending people on Facebook in exchange for a free Whopper sandwich from Burger King. Word of my fame eventually traveled across the pond to the UK, and towards the end of The Year That Was Naught, Schiff Happens took the next step toward world domination when I was interviewed about the same topic on camera by the BBC. You read that correctly - the freaking BBC! We international, baby!

Unfortunately, I managed to blog through the entire Rest Of '09 without mentioning this little nugget of awesomeness (Or, I should say, quarter-pounder of awesomeness. See what I did there?). It happened during the World Series, so I guess it got lost in the shuffle of me attending Game 2 for free and meeting Uncle Jesse. Makes sense, really. I mean...Stamos. Anyway, it turns out that throughout the last year, the BBC had been putting together a massive documentary project about the World Wide Web, looking back at 20 years of the Internet to try and express how it has dramatically changed our world and predict where it might be heading. Pretty intriguing stuff. The fourth episode of the series is all about how the Web has changed the nature of human interaction, and in their research the producers at the BBC had stumbled upon the Whopper Sacrifice and fallen in love with its subversive nature (as I had) as a case study in how we define friendship on the web. They contacted me via Facebook, naturally, and asked me if I would be willing to tell my Whopper story on camera, and ultimately be featured in the project. I can vividly recall Susanna Posnett, the Assistant Producer who first spoke to me about the show, telling me in her classic English accent, "My director told me to find a Whopper Guy and, well, you're my Whopper Guy." Now if that doesn't scream "You've made it," I don't know what does.

I was happy to oblige, and the rest, as we say around here, is history. About a week after that initial conversation, I was sitting in a midtown diner next to Dr. Aleks Krotoski, the host of the documentary, telling the tale that made Schiff Happens famous. A cameraman stood behind the diner counter and filmed us as we conversed, with matching plates of burgers and fries in front of us, about the utter hilarity inherent in deleting an online relationship with ten people you probably weren't even friends with in the first place for the equivalent of one-tenth of a fast food sandwich that you probably didn't even want to eat in the first place. It was an extremely fun and memorable experience, made even more rewarding by the high praise I received from Krotoski, Posnett, and director Molly Milton, who agreed that I was one of their favorite interviews of the entire series. To put that in perspective, these people traveled the globe interviewing all-time geniuses and Internet hall-of-famers including Bill Gates, Al Gore, Arianna Huffington, Stephen Fry, Mark Zuckerberg, and Tim Berners-Lee. Oh, you say you invented the World Wide Web? I'm sorry, I wasn't listening - I'm the Whopper Guy!

This is all to bring you up to speed and let you know that the series, titled "The Virtual Revolution," started last night with Episode 1: "The Great Leveling?" on BBC 2, and debuts at the end of February on BBC World. The series will be broadcast in the US, so all of you, my tens of adoring fans, will definitely be able to watch my leap from mere national fame to worldwide superstardom. Dates for American airings are still being sorted out, but I am in contact with the show's directors and will be sure to get that info to you as soon as it's available. They've also promised me DVD copies of the entire thing, so maybe we'll get a special Schiff Happens screening together. For now, check out the preview video below, follow the series on Twitter @BBCDigRev, and be sure to check out the program's official web site. It's chock full of interviews and source video and all kinds of great information on the series, and is in itself a must-see example of open source goodness for all you Internetty types. In fact, as incentive for you to see what it's all about, Schiff Happens will personally buy a free Whopper meal for the first person who can find me in the annals of the Virtual Revolution site. I promise, I'm there somewhere.

Until then, stay tuned right here. Schiff Happens, the global phenomenon coming soon to a burger joint near you.

Fist Pumping in the Old Country

(Thanks to the superb Tumblr "Black and WTF")

I believe that's DJ Pauly Polka in the center, rocking the first ever blowout. And there's Claus Von Situationsteinn right up in his grill - a truly epic moment in photography capturing the original Bavarian Beat Battle.

To be honest, with all the Jersey Shore parodies and spoofs we've seen, I'm actually shocked we haven't seen a Fist Pump Polka from the king of all parodies. I would gladly pay money to see this happen, especially since I haven't already paid to see Weird Al in concert twice in my life. Nope, definitely never did that....

/Finds worn-out "Alapalooza" CD. Polkas. Sobs.

Conan and Sandler Flip Off NBC, Jersey Shore Rips Off This Blog

Last night was noteworthy as far as Schiff Happens late night tv watching is concerned, which is completely unrelated to the fact that this post is first going up around 3pm. Completely unrelated.

First, Adam Sandler made a fantastic appearance on the Tonight Show as one of Conan OBrien's final guests (check the full show here to see how Conan wasted $1.5 million of NBC's money, and witness the return of an old furry friend). Sandler, rocking the faded green Jets tee (Gang Green don't say I never gave you any love!), serenaded the host and revealed the story of how he and Chris Farley didn't leave Saturday Night Live on their own terms but were actually fired by NBC in 1995 despite being pretty much the funniest humans on the planet at the time. The moment recalled better days at SNL and NBC, when Conan, Sandler, Farley and a generation of standard-bearing comedians collaborated each week to produce some of the most hilarious moments we've ever witnessed. But it also served to show that genius truly is so often unappreciated in its time. The interview fittingly ended when Sandler summed

things up with his then-manager's reaction to the situation those 15 years ago (and Smellson's new favorite quote from now on I can almost guarantee), "NBC: Nothin But C***s!"

After that, I caught "Jersey Shore: Spoof'd!" on MTV. It has apparently been rerunning for a week already, but try as I might, I can't be everywhere this insanely overexposed show is all the time, so I was seeing it for the first time. It was a collection of all the spoofs and sketches that have been passed around to no end since the show stormed into our lives as the greatest reality train wreck in television history, and was noteworthy for just one reason: If the guidos liked a clip, they threw a fist pump as a seal of approval, complete with a fancy graphic.

This is important because, as my tens of faithful readers will no doubt concur, the whole gimmick, is just a repackaged ripoff of The Jersey Fist - my Jersey Fist! I invented rating things on a scale of fist pumps, damn it! I had even just recently resized this photo, featured in this post, to serve as our new official Jersey Fist in future posts.

It's the same as MTV's graphic! Unbelievable. These are the perils of being famous. You pay homage to the glory of the great Garden State and a bunch of Sleaseside guidos rip you off.

So how do we plan to fire back at this outrage, you ask? Well, Schiff Happens is here to officially announce the Jersey Shore Boycott! Won't you join me? Just say "No" to guidos!

Just kidding. I could never stay mad at you, Shnookieshpookies. Finale party is officially on tonight, and the RonRon juice will be flowing! Drop me a line for details. Until then, can we please get Snooks into one of those Snickers commercials? I can see it now...

Inside Karma, a crowd of guidos are battling on the floor.

Voiceover: "Hungry? Grab a Snickers!"

Russ aka "Ron" grabs Snooki and takes her for a piggy-back ride to the beach, where he proceeds to not fuck her. Snooki returns to the house, dejected.

Snookers: "Waaahhh! Nobody wants to f*** me in this town! What the f***?! I'm the f***ing Princess of F***ing Poughkeepsie!"

RonRon: "Still not smushed, err, satisfied? Would you f*** a Gatorade bottle at this point? Try one of these."

Tosses Snickers a Snickers, who voraciously sucks the nuts out of the candy bar, then proceeds to do herself with it.

Snooks: "What? I eat it a certain way!"

It basically writes itself.

Must Go! Must Buy! [Coachella 2010 Lineup!]

You guys! You guys! I'm seriously!

Some time Tuesday night the Coachella lineup was born unto this earth, and like Moses descending Mount Sinai bearing the 15 10 Commandments, it was a miracle sight to behold.

And lo didst the Festival Gods shineth down their light upon Indio. And yeah, it was good, and Schiff rejoiced.

Is this the best festival card you've ever seen?

The Official Jersey Shore Drinking Game [Fist Pumping!]

It's here! It's here! After a long, frigid week, a brand new episode Jersey Shore is finally here again!

I have no idea how many episodes are left, but this week the housemates are taking a road trip to Atlantic City, which seems to me like a last big hurrah before winding down to a finale. If that's the case, it's time to take a cue from Snooki and start living it up!

No more bitching out like Sammi and Ronnie - henceforth, every minute of Jersey Shore is your last (Yes, for now let's ignore the insanely awesome rumor that the entire cast is coming back for a second season). It's time to put on your bedazzled fleur de lis tee and creep like you've never creeped before! Battle that beat like your life depended on it! Get your GTL on every dam day! Suck the ever-lovin shit out of that Vlasic! For goodness sake punch someone in the damn face! These are the precious final moments - cherish them, people!

In that spirit, here's the Official Jersey Shore Drinking Game (or at least the one that about a dozen of us played last week). For authenticity, you can blend up some RonRon juice like we did - "Whenever that shit comes out, it's always a filthy night" - but all you really need is plenty of beer and a stash of liquor for the occasional shot. Happy fist pumping!


The Jersey Shore Drinking Game, Official Rules:

1. The names of all the housemates are put into a hat and each person draws one. If you're drinking with more than 6 people, just put the names back and draw again until everyone has their housemate. When your guido talks to the camera, take a drink.

2. If anyone actually calls Snooki "Snooki," finish your drink.

3. If they call her anything else - Snook, Shnooks, Snickers, Shnicks, Snicky-Snicky-Shnoiks, Shnookumspookums - it's a social.

4. If the housemates all sit down for family dinner, everybody does a toast and takes a healthy chug. Except for whoever has Sammi Sweetheart - she's excluded from chicken cutlet night. She also has to refill the cup of whoever has The Situation... that ungrateful Flintstone big toe havin' bitch.

5. When they fist pump, we fist pump. Any fist pumping battle scene starts a waterfall. Everyone drinks while fist pumping and doesn't stop doing either until there's no more fist pumping happening on screen.

6. And of course, no Jersey Shore drinking game would be complete without this BASEketball-inspired rule: Do a shot every time a fight breaks out!

Follow these rules and you'll be craving ham and water in no time. By all means feel free to add your own and let me know what you come up with. Just please don't invite any sort of zoo creatures to my Jersey Shore party.

Well, I'm wasted! Who wants to smush?

We Want You To Be Happy

So glad they're back.

Mash-Ups Make Me A Happy Panda

"An hour of party-fest intensity sometimes followed by guilt because you're fist pumping to the vocals of a song that you probably talked shit on at some point in the past 5 months"

Sorry, couldn't resist that title.

For my mash-up heads, take note:

Get on that WHITE PANDA shit.

Confusion (quoted above) was the first one to plant the name "The White Panda" on my brain, and he recently had them on his "Underrated '09" list. Looking back, I clearly remember perking my ears up at Passion Pit vs. T.I. in "What You Know About Little Secrets" a few months ago, and even passing it on to a few people. Unfortunately, I have already fairly well achieved my resolution to repress most of my memories of 2009 - a year which I shall henceforth in this space and in conversation replace with "The Year That Was Naught" (TYTWN) - and The White Panda got lost in the shuffle.

But that was 'Naught. This is now. The new year has the mash-up duo of Procrast and DJ Griffi offering their debut mixtape, "Versus," to keep our fists pumping. Click play below to start the party, but only do so if you're fully prepared to battle. "Versus" is a hour-long assault, and you're going to have to beat back the beat to see the other side.

Versus (The White Panda Mixtape) by whitepandamusic


Or check out their web site for all the downloads and details. Get after it!

Wherein I See Phish and the World Series for $5 Total [Rest Of 2009]

We're coming down to the wire and there's no time to lose, so here's the rest of The Best Rest Of 2009.

A few months after the most glorious concert experiences of my life, a friend of mine was offering around extra tickets for the last leg of Springsteen's tour, which included a mini-residency at Giants Stadium. These concerts would be the last for Bruce in the venue that vaulted him into worldwide arena rock superstardom, as the new Giants Stadium (and I'll be calling it that regardless of whatever corporate name gets stickered all over it, so deal with it, Jets fans) is set to open in 2010. Clearly I had to be there and jumped at the chance. I was met with an interesting choice: General Admission floor seats for the second-to-last night, or 100-level seats for E Street's last ever Giants Stadium show? For some, it seems like a no-brainer. Go for the tour and stadium closer, where the band is bound to pull out all the stops and, given the historical significance of the venue, there may even be a special guest or two. However, recall my Bonnaroo epiphany and you'll see why I made the choice that I did. It simply had to be the floor. After being so close to The Boss that I could see the sweat flying off of his pumping Jersey fists, there was just no way I was opting for the seats, even if it meant gambling that the second-to-last E Street show at Giants Stadium would measure up to the finale. Observe below to see why I clearly made the right choice.



My favorite part about this is that more than once in the video you can clearly hear me muttering, "Where's The Boss man? Where is he?" only to have him emerge into view mere feet from our position. My second favorite part is the fact that we somehow managed to not notice the mini stage in the center of the floor just to our right until Bruce was standing on it. We were just in the right spot at the right time, and you're just going to have to believe me that it worked out that way. Oh, and 60-year-old Bruce crowd-surfing a solid 40 yards. I guess that's my third favorite part. It's the story of 2009 in a nutshell, really. All-time highlight memories sporadically cropping up amongst an otherwise murky sea of confusion and doubt.

This now puts us right smack in the thick of October, my favorite month of the year. If ever there was a saving grace for 2009, it was October. Not only did it include the aforementioned Bruce experience, but the YANKEES WON THE WORLD SERIES! If you know me or have read this here blog at all, you'll know how much the 2009 MLB Playoffs lifted up my Worst Year Ever. Some of you reading right now may have been there for this guy's birthday celebration, watching me jump for joy during Game 2 of the ALDS as A-Rod tied it with a HR in the bottom of the 9th and Teixeira walked it off with a wall-scraper in the 11th.

In the next round, I was able to score tickets for the Littlest Bro (who is ironically the biggest of we 3 Schiff Brothers) and I to see the Yanks take care of the Angels and capture their 40th pennant in Game 6 of the ALCS. Of course, our first attempt to see the game was rained out, but, as we saw time and time again in '09, out of the FAILstorm emerges a WIN. Because of the rainout, Littlest Bro was forced to head home, so myself and Middle Bro went to drop him off with our Aunt and Uncle who were heading back to Jersey after seeing John Stamos star in Bye Bye, Birdie on Broadway. That's right, folks, Uncle Jesse himself. Here at Schiff Happens, we have sung Stamos' praises before, but never did we expect to actually meet the proprietor of the Smash Club.* However, the stars aligned that night, leading to one of the greatest pictures ever taken of the Schiff Brothers.


Yes, I'm well aware that only half of my face is visible. I stand by my statement. Note to all of you out there who will now attempt to stake out the Stamos: Try to avoid saying "Uncle Jesse on 3!" just before you snap the picture. Ask Littlest Bro about it.

As October turned into November, the Yankees ended nine long years of frustration with World Series win number 27 and another parade down Broadway. Yes, I'm well aware that complaining of the Yankees "struggles" is ridiculous. I apologize for nothing. I also should probably mention that I was in the house to watch the Bombers take down the Philthadelph in Game 2 of the World Series alongside Middle Bro, which was especially satisfying since we got to chant "Who's your daddy?" at Pedro Martinez all night. Probably should also mention that it was free. Hey, I said the highs were all-timers.

The final positive of 2009 was Phish's fall tour. For the first time ever I decided to try and check out an entire multi-night run, procuring tickets for Wednesday and Friday nights at Madison Square Garden, and Saturday night at my alma mater, The University of Virginia's John Paul Jones Arena. Of course, Thursday - the one night of the four I went into without a ticket - was the night of note. I joined my friends at the bar near MSG for their pregame, and just as I was about to go do a lap around the arena to scour for an extra, the guy next to me at the bar leaned over and said, "You need a ticket? Here you go." He pulled out a mail order ticket, I managed to mutter something along the lines of, "Are you serious?" and he said, "Sure, why not? I was gonna eat it anyway. Buy me a beer and it's yours." So, for the price of the beer I was able to ensure that I saw "Fluffhead" for the first time live. I'd call that a victory. Of course, that was also the night I learned that Jonathan Larsen, creator of RENT, died of an aortic aneurism, and didn't even have a little bit of AIDS. I'd call that a loss. A major loss. I have never felt so bamboozled in my life, and to be honest, I'm still getting over it a little bit. The story will have to wait for another time, because I'm getting emotional just thinking about it, and because quite frankly, it's 8:30 on New Year's Eve and we've all got some drinking to do.

So before you head out to whatever loft party, watering hole, or slump buster you're hitting up tonight, take a minute to view perhaps my favorite video of 2009. I call it, "How Not To Shoot a Concert Bootleg," and when you consider that this hilarious piece of pure, unadulterated FAIL was shot just moments after the incredible joy and good fortune captured in the "Hungry Heart" video above, it's the perfect sendoff for 2009, the Worst Year Ever. May 2010 be the most epic of WIN for all of us.



Happy New Year.


*Wow, definitely didn't remember that the original Stamos post was Yankees-related. Weird. Awesome.

Welcome to 2009, Now Get The F Out! [Rest Of 2009]

Alright, so the Springsteen Bonnaroo story was a little long-winded, but deservedly so I think. If you haven't already, check the Picasa stream for all the highlights of Bonnaroo '09. The general gist of the festival is there, but with so little left of this year, we've got precious little time to waste as we continue to remember the Best Rest of 2009. I can almost guarantee that the highlights of the entire rest of the year won't take up as much space as the camera story. And we're off!

So, right after we made it back from Bonnaroo, I moved downtown and was fired from a shitty job that I hated anyway for showing up late to do something I wasn't hired to do in the first place. So it goes. It was a pretty miserable experience to have to deal with, but I figured it was life's way of telling me, "You'll thank me later."

A few weeks later, the night before I was supposed to fly down to Florida to watch one of my fraternity brothers walk the plank aisle* I found myself in the hospital with appendicitis. I figured that was life's way of telling me, "Nope, you were wrong." Looking back, though, this was a great moment. It was around this time when I decided that I'd had enough bullshit negativity. From that moment on, I would devote myself to being one of those positive people I can't stand. It has been a struggle, and while I can assure you that my cynicism and penchant for hatin' will never quite disappear, I have to admit that little by little, I started to feel the whole optimism thing coming back to me. Friends and family even told me they were noticing a change, and despite being jobless and recovering from surgery to remove a useless, vestigial organ, more quality memories emerged from the Worst Year Ever. Less than a week after the surgery, I was trucking up to Saratoga to see Phish once again, relying on my brother as a personal lean-to while nearly passing out for the entire second set to wrap up Summer Tour 2009.** Next, I hit Cape May for a week of relaxation before a bachelor party and another wedding Labor Day Weekend (this time I was able to attend), making Summer Sans Appendix a success.

Allow me to pause here, if I may, during the Cape May portion of this recap, to acknowledge that while 2009 may have been the WYE, it brought us perhaps the greatest television show of the Aughts. Of course I speak of the now-legendary Jersey Shore. I'm not going to dwell on this too much, especially since Cajun Boy has done such an admirable job of keeping us up to speed on all the fist-pumping madness over at Animal NY, but isn't it fitting that 2009, which was beyond awful, gave us a show so far beyond awful that it's truly amazing? I groaned in disgust when I first learned the premise of Jersey Shore, but I'm already hoping for a second season*** and tonight's new episode is pretty much the only part of New Year's Eve that I'm looking forward to (Aside from, of course, saying "Good thefuck riddance!" to 2009. You really can't understate just how craptastic this year was).

Actually, this seems like a good time for yet another short commercial break, but chill out, Freckles McGee - The Rest Of 2009 continues momentarily. In the meantime, amuse yourself with one of the most talked about viral videos of the year below. Snooki Punch '09, never forget.

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

*Another 2009 phenomenon, by the way: My friends getting married. No, I have no idea what they're thinking either. I mean, uh, Mazel Tov, guys! Many happy returns! Hope getting married questionably young during the Worst Year Ever works out for you!

**Totally worth it.

***MTV, if you're out there, I have a few friends from back in the old neighborhood that you have to meet, ASAP!

The Worst Year Ever is Finally Over [It's safe to come out!]

Well hey there, stinky britches! Didn't see you hangin around. I thought everyone had left. I certainly got the hell out of there. I guess after the Thriller was gone I just couldn't see a reason anymore.

Look, I have no idea why I abruptly vanished from these airwaves way back in June. This year just sort of shook out that way. Sure, the good moments included some all-time memories, and I intend to give thanks for that. However, for me, navigating through 2009 mostly felt like spelunking through a long, dark cavern of suck. I know I'm young in the big scheme of things, but this was by far the worst year I have ever experienced. And so, with that in mind, Schiff Happens presents to you not the Best Of, but simply "The Rest Of 2009." Here's hoping that we remember the few good times and otherwise ready ourselves to say good riddance to bad rubbish in the final moments of this decade. I can't promise that 2010 will be better, but can it really get any worse?

I guess I should probably begin where I so rudely left off by finishing the story of Bonnaroo. The short version is that we saw a bunch more music, attended the lamest Lebowski-Fest of all time, and witnessed the coming-true of my live music wet dream - Bruce and Phish, together on stage - from the front freaking row. Now you might be thinking to yourself, "Schiff, what in your wide fist-pumping world could possibly top rocking out to a Trey vs. Bruce 'Glory Days' guitar battle from mere feet away?" And you'd be right to ponder that question - until you heard the tale of Schiff's Epic Bonnaroo '09 Springsteen Miracle.

This isn't even the greatest story to come out of Bonnaroo '09. I know, seriously.

Saturday night's E Street set was obviously the most anticipated moment for our Bonnaroo group, and we decided we were going to rock out from the pit, or not rock at all. This proved to be excessively easy, as all we had to do was stand in a line beside the main stage while watching Wilco's set. Tough life, I know. Soon enough after Wilco finished up, the line was moving and we were there. And I mean there. Front row. Center. FIST. I had come prepared with my new video camera, knowing that I wouldn't want to miss a moment. The show came and went and E Street of course brought the power, as they do night after night after night after night. You all have seen the setlist by now so you know all the highlights (If you haven't, Backstreets has your back. Light scrolling required). Growin' Up. Thunder Road. Hell, Santa Claus even came to town. But what made this show a life-changer for me and our crew was our spot. When Bruce came down into the crowd during the "Badlands" opener, we were feet away. When Bruce brought a delirious hippie chick out of the crowd to Courtney Cox with him during "Dancing in the Dark," we could hear her squealing with joy. And when The Boss motioned for all of E Street to join him in the crowd for the final flourish of "American Land," we were feet away from the most hard-rockin accordion you ever saw. After that, I knew I'd only be able to see a Springsteen show from the floor for the rest of my life. How could I return to the seats after that experience? The best part? I captured all the highlights in 720p thanks to my trusty camcorder.

Needless to say, after the show we were wiped, so we took a seat toward the back of the main stage field to reflect and munch on some snacks. With the big stage closing for the night, a nearby festival vendor started shouting, "Free food!" Clearly we jumped at the opportunity, powered through a plate of some sort of festival grub or another, and headed back towards Centeroo to get started on Saturday's late night sessions. Approaching the fountain, I paused for one of my famous paranoid patdowns, checking each of my pockets for vitals. Wallet. Check. Phone. Check. Car key. Check. Video camera... Video camera?! In my haste to get up and chow down on free food, I had forgotten to grab the camera, which I had taken out of my back pocket and placed on the ground beside me so as not to crush it when I sat down. I grabbed my brother and cousin and we raced back toward the main stage.

Predictably, the entire area was closed off, with security guards flanking the entrances. I pleaded my case with a few of them to no avail. "Please!" I begged. "I know exactly where we were sitting!" Refusing to resign myself to the lost and found, I raised my voice one last time and demanded to speak to someone in charge. An older gentleman approached, looked me in the eye and asked if I could really take him to the exact spot where we were. "If I don't," I replied, "then you can give me a hard time. How about that?" He agreed and we were off again, trying to put as much distance between him and us so as to maximize our search time. I mean, I had an idea of where we had been, but it was dark and that field is huge. Soon we reached what I thought was the spot and frantically started looking around. I noticed an enormous truck circling the premises and feared that I'd find my camera in the shape of a pancake. My brother and cousin weren't seeing it. The truck passed by. Still nothing. My body froze over in a cold sweat. Then I heard someone calling out to me. It was the security geezer. He had caught up to us. My heart sank, fearing our last gasp was over. I honestly don't even remember what he said to me. All I remember is looking up, and seeing him toss something towards me. A black pouch. My camera case. Inside...the camera, fully intact! In that moment, my friends, I became the Luckiest Guy at Bonnaroo '09.

The true miracle here isn't just that we found the camera. It's that if we had not, the world would have been deprived of this. And this. And of course this. And you wouldn't all get to relive with me the greatest moment of my concert-going life. Observe below and enjoy while I steel myself for the rest of what I have to believe is the first-ever "Rest Of" countdown. Clearly I thought that the highs of '09 were few and far between enough to include in a single post, but we're going to have to make this a multi-parter. I promise I won't abandon you like last time. Believe in the Promised Land that is 2010.