Blizzaro World

Living in an Perfectly Hypocritical World

2006-02-19T17:56:00.000-05:00

Do you believe what I'm saying now or what I said 8 years ago?

If only Cheney had looked sorrowfully into the camera and said, "it's a private matter between Hillary... I mean, Harry and me. I have certainly caused pain in my marri... errrr... friendship with Hilla.... ahhh... Harry. But if Harry has forgiven me, I think the country should just move on. This is not a public matter. It's a matter between me and Hill...(cough) arry, that is.

You know, Brit, every time a President has sex with an intern in the Oval Office or a VP shoots his friend, I think the public realizes that these are purely private matters."

I realize that there isn't perfect symmetry here. Cheney's shooting incident did not disgrace the office he holds and was likely more akin to putting Gerald Ford behind the wheel of a golf cart. And ... at least not yet... Cheney hasn't committed perjury in an attempt to hide his private act.

But the reaction of the left and right is perfectly hypocritical. Republicans, who rightly saw Clinton's disgraceful indulgence with a government employee as a public act, couldn't run to a microphone fast enough to declare disingenously that the Vice President's actions were "private".

Not to be outmaneuvered in the Beltway parlor game of Hypocrisy, former Clinton apologists (the most hypocritical of all being Lady Hillary) stepped to the podium and declared dismay at the Vice President's failure to make this matter public. (In fact, he did... just in an amateurish fashion, which rightly drew criticism).

To their credit, these same Republicans and Democrats gathered on the Capitol steps on Thursday to sing A Day at the Fair's "Who You Guna Believe, Me or Your Lying Eyes".

Sunday Shorts

2006-02-19T11:38:00.000-05:00

For the record...

* I will be rooting and voting for Taylor Hicks to win this year's American Idol. He appears humble, possesses a unique voice and stage presence (he is a cross between Ray Charles and a man with cerebral palsy), and plays a harmonica.

* I will also be rooting for Chris Daughtry, David Radford, and Becky O'Donohue (even though I do not really remember if she can sing)

* But I think Katharine McPhee will win.

* With apologies to Arrested Development fans, NBC's The Office is the best sitcom since the sixth season of Seinfeld.

* I know no one who admits to watching the Olympics (it reminds me of the days of yore when Golden Girls was a top 10 show and no one watched it).

* Given the ratings this year, maybe no one is.

* If the ratings continue to disappoint, don't be surprised if "stock car racing" becomes a Winter Olympics sport in 2010. That may seem laughable, but I'm sure racing enthusiasts would tell you that Stanley Park is perfectly shaped for just such an event. There is the problem of joggers, rollerbladers, and bikers, but if the Canadians sent in Dick Cheney as part of the advance team, I am certain that the park would be all clear for racing.

* When my 86 year-old, FDR Democrat grandmother agrees with my tax positions (-a-inheritance/death tax = 0% regardless of income if received from your parents, aunts and uncles, kids, grandparents, or great grandparents... otherwise a 20% tax on the first dollar you receive; -b- social security tax should be applied beyond to wages beyond $90,000... I don't buy the argument that people stop receiving the benefit of social security beyond that amount because that same argument can be used for income taxes... or do you really believe that Alex Rodriguez receives $25 million in government services each year? This would allow us to increase funding for social security while lowering the tax on everyone; and -c- income taxes -- should be tied to federal spending), I'm torn between thinking they are good ideas or I've lost my mind.

* I'm leaning toward "good ideas" ... but what else would a crazy man think.

On Economics...

2006-02-18T10:29:00.000-05:00

It's the options and dot.coms, stupid

As we all fondly recall, 1998, 1999, and 2000 saw budget surpluses -- the last two, the largest in U.S. history.

President Clinton and his acolytes crowed that it was the President's 1993 tax increases that resulted in these incredible numbers. Of course, they never did get around to explaining why it took 5 years for those tax increases to lead to the rapid tax revenue growth we saw starting in 1998 or why in 2001, before President Bush enacted his tax cuts, tax revenues were starting to decline.

Republicans took control of Congress in 1995 and claimed that the 98-'00 surpluses were the result of fiscal discipline. If it wasn't so painfully untrue, it would keep me laughing for years. Federal spending was at 1.515 trillion in 1995. In 2000, the great Republican pocketbook-minders had "shrunk" federal spending to a level of 1.789 trillion -- which, by the way, was almost exactly how much the Democrats had "shrunk" federal spending in the 5 years before the Republicans took office.

Congressional Republicans are a lot like those guys who cut back on small purchases to save for the 60" widescreen television set for their trailer home. Whereas Democrats eschew such "rich man's status symbol purchases" and instead fritter away their money on thousands of $4.50 Hallmark cards, which make them feel more egalitarian and "close to the little people".

Of course, neither are actually controlling spending (or serving the public good), and the last 5 years have laid waste to any credibility Republicans thought they had as the party of fiscal restraint -- spending a staggering 2.47 trillion in 2005. Almost doubling what the "fiscally conversative" Republican and Democratic Congresses had done in each of their previous 5 year terms.

Source for the above numbers: CBO

So how do we account for these record setting budget surpluses?

In unrelated news -- 1998-2000 -- Amazon.com's stock rose from about $15 to over $100. By 2002, Amazon.com hovered around $25 per share. Freemarkets (the company) rocketed to over $300 per share. By 2002, it was fighting to keep its head above $15 a share.

In further unrelated news, CNET.com kindly put together a Top 10 dot com busts list (just for the heck of it, I included the years of their "rise" and ultimate demise.)

1) Webvan (the people who thought using the Internet to deliver groceries was a great idea... I suspect they're currently working on a rival to Apple's fabulous iTunes -- it will be called "The 8-track Jukebox") -- (1999 - 2001)

2) Pets.com -- (1998 - 2000) (You know you have a LOUSY business model when growth on pet spending by Americans and Europeans begins to look like a chart of Anna Nicole Smith's weight in the same time period and yet you fail)

3) Kozmo.com (1998-2001)

4) Flooz.com (1998-2001) -- the geniuses who thought that people would prefer "Internet currency" to using their credit cards.

5) eToys.com (1997-2001)

6) Boo.com (1998-2000)

7) MVP.com (1999-2000)

8) Go.com (1998-2001)

9) Kibu.com (1998-2000)

10) GovWorks (1999-2000) (as we can see from the numbers above, GovDoesntWork would have likely led to a more successful (or at least truthful) business.)

Again... in unrelated news ...

The year 2000 saw individual income tax reach its highest level ever... at just over 1 trillion dolloars.

Analyses conducted by the CBO indicated that stock option exercise revenues increased from scant amounts in the early 90's to over $100 billion in 2000. (Resulting in approximately $40-45 billion in additional revenue)

Thus, we got rich in the late 90s in the same way the crack addict does who sells all of his belongings. (This is not even factoring in the falsely inflated salaries that some people received because RealBadBusinessIdea.com and GoingToGoBust.com and the Y2K scam artist companies lured away IT professionals and web designers, as well as lawyers, marketing, executives, and HR folks)

Unfortunately just like that crack addict, there comes a point when that source of temporary cash infusion (employees cashing in stock options on their company's ridiculously over-inflated stock price -- who the hell was buying Amazon.com for $100 a share or Freemarkets for over $300 a share???) dries up, and all you are left with is a greater need for a fix (or federal spending) without the cash (revenue) to support your greater crack spending habits. Unfortunately for crack users, the Chinese government is not willing to finance their crack habit by purchasing crack user securities. More unfortunately for us, the same cannot be said about U.S. government securities.

So if you are wondering why we cannot balance the budget now like we did back then, all you need to know is that now everyone knows that delivering groceries over the Internet will never work, that we have 3 60" widescreen tvs in a studio apartment, and our crack habit is as bad as ever.

Perhaps it also helps explain why I consider President Clinton neither a good President nor a bad President... but rather a mediocre, morally-flawed President with fortunate timing -- a 1990s version of Calvin Coolidge -- another man upon whom chance smiled and about whom the best one can say is that he was at the right place at the right time.

And why I think of President Bush (43) as a fiscal conservative as often as I think of Teddy Kennedy as a fiscal conservative. Indiscriminately cutting every tax in sight does not make you a fiscal conservative, it just makes you indiscriminate. Ronald Reagan - no friend of taxes -- actually raised certain taxes because in his judgment that was the only sensible way of preserving certain programs -- i.e. social security. And buying 3 60" widescreen tv sets for a studio apartment may appease you, your wife, and daughter, but it sure as heck is not the fiscally responsible (or adult) thing to do.

Proud to be from Pittsburgh

2006-01-28T10:43:00.000-05:00

where 30,000 people show up to a pep rally and say things like...

"If it was raining and minus 5, I'd still be here," Greg Boerio said. "It doesn't matter."

I disagree, Greg. If it was -5 (and it doesn't really matter if he meant -5 Celsius, though you know he didn't) AND raining, it would matter. It would matter quite a bit!

A Penny for your Thoughts

2006-01-28T07:20:00.000-05:00

(With thanks to a barmaid for the referral)

I was hoping I would be Martin Van Buren, as 8 is my lucky number, but perhaps this is twice as lucky. (though clearly not for Abe -- the manically-depressed, assassinated 16th President)

Find out if you are the next Rutherford B. Hayes or Zachary Taylor.

Super Bowl Prediction

2006-01-07T16:31:00.000-05:00

If the Colts make it to the Super Bowl, then...

there will never be an uglier quarterback to have played in the Super Bowl.

I once heard it said that the most striking thing about James Van Der Beek is that he has a head shaped like a cereal box, and I think that is an apt description of Peyton Manning.

But after some consideration, I think there is another former Hollywood star who bears more of a strinking resemblance to Peyton....

And I was wondering...

2006-01-05T20:14:00.000-05:00

this morning...

some time during the course of Otto Walk in the A.M., what do they do with all of these decorated-hard-and-thrown-away-bone-dry Christmas trees?

In 2002, there were almost 21 million Christmas trees cut down in the U.S. [An aside -- and equally importantly, why in the hell are we paying someone in our government to keep statistics on things like this?] So on January 3rd of 2003, where did all of those Christmas trees go? Did they all become mulch and wood chips?

And as I considered that, I wondered why you do not see gonzo greenies starting huge campaigns against the denudding of our Christmas tree forest/farms.

Think about it ... we are killing 21 million trees a year for a 2 or 3 week decorative purpose! How is that not morally objectionable to the granola-crunchin', tree-huggin', Birkenstocks-wearin' crowd?

And yet, not once, have I heard anyone implore people to save a Blue Spruce and purchase an artificial tree this year. In fact, with one exception, I haven't even heard anyone express a word of remorse for the not-so-dearly-departed Christmas trees.

I guess a kind person might say that it just shows that no matter how scientifically ignorant or logically challenged you are, you still aren't dumb enough to attack a symbol at the very heart of the Christmas season.

Since I have never professed to be kind, I think it just further demonstrates how horribly illogical and inconsistent many of the eco-maniacal positions are.

Where Art Thou Mike Brown

2006-01-03T19:26:00.000-05:00

in case you were wondering

If, like me, you have found yourself inexplicably pondering "who will hire Mike Brown given his performance in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina," then ponder no longer.

Whispers were that Renamity in Philadelphia had hired the former FEMA director as an Events Manager. I am happy to report that these are no longer whispers. Clearly Mr. Brown is one of the new Events Manager for Renamity and his first big event was putting together the New Year's Eve bash at Le Jardin. When asked about the event, Mr. Brown said, "these parties are a breeze. It's part execution, but mostly it's about covering the details."

As to how Mr. Brown's first event came off, well, it is not my place to judge... only to report.

Blizz Footnote: In the course of searching for information about Le Jardin, my fingers and Google landed me at this site.

Now, I will not judge, but I must admit that I did begin to speculate around restaurant number 37... and was convinced of it by the time I arrived at Morton's, restaurant #61 -- that the authors of this guide to 10 Great Restaurants were not, in fact, math majors.

In fairness to the authors of this list, their list of 10 "must eat" Places in Philly contained ONLY 11 restaurants... which is 50 closer to 10 than 61 is. Perhaps they were counting to 10 in Base 7 (although, even in this generous scenario, they still landed on Saturn while shooting for Mars... which is, though, warmer than Neptune).

I'm Not a Liberal

2005-12-31T09:59:00.000-05:00

So Please Stop Calling Me and Sending Me Your Fund-raising Letters

In the past 2 months I have received --

4 letters from environmental groups (note: I claimed Microbiology as my major for the first 3 years of my 4-year college existence, so putting POLLUTION in bold capital letters and OZONE!!!! in italicized caps with lots of exclamation points after it does not persuade me of your claims of a global apocalypse.)

3 calls from a group against Melissa Hart (note: Though a Republican, I do not hold Melissa Hart in the same esteem as I hold Ronald Reagan, Abe Lincoln, Teddy Roosevelt, or John McCain. In fact, I am as excited about her re-election as I am about a trip to JoAnn Fabrics. If I receive one more call, however, telling me that Melissa Hart wants to take away my grandparents' social security checks and send my Bub and Pap, along with hundreds of thousands of other elderly citizens, to danger zones in Iraq -- presumably to drive ridiculously slow, create major traffic jams, and thereby frustrate the timing of insurgent car bombings -- then I'm going to begin actively campaigning for Melissa Hart. You'll recognize me as the guy at your door pinching his nose while asking you to vote for Melissa.)

2 calls from a group railing against "Big Oil" (note: I have a 401(k). I not only like Big Oil, I love Big Oil. Funny, I don't remember your calls railing against Big Oil when they were laying thousands of people off in the late 90s because oil was at $15 a barrel. I know -- they are ridiculously profitable right now. As a shareholder, I wish they would run their businesses more like GM and Ford have. That was sarcasm. Please quit calling. That wasn't.)

1 call from a woman with a sultry voice who dialed my number by accident. PLEASE CALL AGAIN. IMMEDIATELY!!! (just in case you have been conditioned by environmental flyers)

The Pirates

2005-11-05T10:10:00.000-05:00

A case of mistaken identity

While the Red Sox and White Sox busied themselves with breaking curses, the Pirates reliably produced 2 more lackluster seasons. As a Pirates fan, I have grown accustom to a full year's worth of news cycles without one mention of this team. That's how truly mediocre they have been.

Imagine my surprise this morning, while scanning MSNBC.com, when one of the top stories concerned the Pirates. Such is life for my beloved Pirates that the real-life kind of pirates -- the ones supposedly eradicated in the early 1800s -- garner more media attention than their mediocre-hitting brethern.

Fortunately for hundreds of tourists off the coast of Africa, these real-life pirates hit with the same lethality as the black and gold variety that can be found floundering their summer nights away in Pittsburgh.

Losing to Win

2005-07-23T11:14:00.000-04:00

euphoria -- n -- a feeling of great happiness

When the Penguins finished 2nd to the Washington Capitals in last year's draft lottery, many Caps fans thought they had finally bested the Penguins when it mattered.

But like all things between the Capitals and Penguins, an early edge quickly turns into just another defeat.

When the Board of Governors established the rules for the 2005 draft lottery, they decided that each team would start with three balls in the lottery but would lose one for each playoff appearance it had made in the past three years (only to a maximum of 2 balls) and b) (and more importantly for our discussion) one ball for having won the 1st pick in the draft over the previous four years.

So by finishing 2nd last season (and not making the playoffs in any of the past 3 seasons), the Penguins were one of four teams with 3 balls instead of being one of 12 teams (presumably the Capitals would have had an extra ball as well) with 2 balls. How this shifting probability would have impacted the 2005 NHL lottery is impossible to say, but what one can say with certainty is that the next NHL superstar -- Sidney Crosby -- is going to be a Penguin and the Caps will be picking 14th.

Making it even sweeter is the fact that some are now even suggesting that the Penguins' pick in last year's draft, Evgeni Malkin, is an even better prospect than the Capitals' pick (and first pick overall) Alexander Ovechkin.

Oh yeah, and the Rangers are picking 16th!

It's a great day for hockey... at least in Pittsburgh, if not in New York or Washington ... indeed.

A Great Ad

2005-07-17T17:57:00.000-04:00

apercu -- n -- discerning perception; insight

I wish that I knew what I know now, when I was younger

They may have overplayed it.

And it was definitely conceived to push Nike merchandise.

But while watching this, I can't help but forget that. In that moment, I see myself and the kid that is still in me, and I recognize that I, like Tiger Woods, am the man that I am because of my mom and dad.

A wonderful marriage of technology, creativity, and music.

Kudos to Nike, on a great ad. Kudos to Tiger, on another great championship effort.

Costco

2005-07-16T12:24:00.000-04:00

rapacity -- n -- reprehensible acquisitiveness

One reason why it's my favorite store...

A thousand copies of "Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince" for $15.74

And one reason why I hate shopping there...

Some ethereal force compelled me to also purchase "Meet You in Hell: Andrew Carnegie, Henry Clay Frick, and the Bitter Partnership That Transformed America" for $14.99.

What about Charlie Batch?

2005-07-15T23:02:00.000-04:00

Catch him if you can ...

I'm not sure who I find more pathetic here...

Ladies, for future reference, here's a tip... if you aren't famous or wealthy, then he probably isn't either.

Perception

2005-07-15T21:35:00.000-04:00

Choosing our facts . . .

speculatist -- n -- a theorist

I want to believe that JFK stole the 1960 election from Richard Nixon through nefarious means -- and there is evidence to suggest that both Illinois and Texas were the states in which an election was stolen (as compared to possibly lost incompetently in Florida in 2000, where a Democratic-controlled election board in certain counties approved the butterfly ballot that befuddled voters).

I wanted to believe that the Clintons acted improperly in the Whitewater matter and the Travel Gate incident. And there is some evidence that they did.

I want to believe that Ronald Reagan was not aware of the selling of arms to Iran in an effort to persuade a terrorist state to use its influence to gain the release of Americans held hostage by radicals in Lebanon. I also want to believe that he was not aware that proceeds from the sale of arms to Iran were being used to fund the contras in Nicaragua. It seems that the greater weight of the evidence pointed to the fact that Reagan was not aware of what Lt. Col. Oliver North and others were up to. I could also make a persuasive argument that the Boland Amendment that made the funding of the contras illegal was an unconstitutional usurpation of executive powers by the legislative branch.

If it was Clinton and not Reagan, I must reluctantly admit that I would not be so inclined to believe that he was unaware and would instead focus on the facts that indicate that he had to be aware. And I would have argued then, as I would now about the matter -- even though it is Reagan, that a chief executive bears responsibility for the actions of his subordinates. It may be true that he didn't know, but a President acts with gross negligence in allowing underlings to sell weapons and illegally fund a resistance faction. While I would have acknowledged (since I am still a person of principle) that the Boland Amendment is an unconstitutional usurpation of executive powers, I would have correctly emphasized that it was a violation of the law. The proper course of action would have been to challenge the Boland Amendment and not to contravene the law.

As I read Ron Chernow's masterfully-written work on our greatest founder, Alexander Hamilton, I am struck by the fact that 1787 was no different than 1987 nor any different than today. We invariably, no matter how hard we may try not to, view the world through our own prism.

This doesn't make us hypocrites ... as a hypocrite is someone who applies different principles to the same set of facts... or perhaps it does, but in a way with which I'm comfortable... but it explains why rational and fair-minded people can see a set of facts so differently.

And while I'm willing to accept that and find that this is what makes for great argument, I also find that the more immediate the event the more passion and partiality seep into my arguments, making for a less-inspired discourse. For me, time acts as both a cooling and leveling force.

I mention this because I have found myself instinctively tempted to point out the "facts" (that is, those items that support my instinctive position) in discussions with more Democratic-minded co-workers regarding the latest D.C. imbroglio in which Karl Rove finds himself ensnared. Karl Rove is like Barbra Streisand (without the backlighting or the self-indulgent web site ... yet) in that it is difficult to find people who don't have a strong opinion about the person one way or the other (and sane people think you are nuts if you don't). To the anti-Bush (as I believe there were actually only 5 people who were pro-Kerry in the last election, which topped by 2 the number of people who were pro-Dole in the '96 Presidential campaign) camp, Karl Rove is Satan. Pro-Bush "folks" (not to be confused with those folks who are flying planes into the Twin Towers and killing thousands of Americans) simply add a v, rearrange the last few letters and think of Rove as a savant.

If you are an anti-Bush, you see the negative aspects of this mess and focus and highlight those. If you are pro-Bush person and inclined like me, you focus on the "fact" (yes, equivocal statements are now facts... just as rumor and innuendo have become) that there doesn't appear to be a violation of any law ... or at least not the Intelligence Identities Protection Act (the law most often discussed) because a) by all accounts Karl Rove did not disclose (if I were otherwise-minded, I would say "leaked") that Joe Wilson's wife worked for the CIA not with the intent to expose her as opposed to with the intent to destroy the credibility of Joe Wilson (which has, from my impassioned view of the facts, already occurred) and b) Joe Wilson's wife would not be considered a covert agent under that Act because she had not been working abroad (i.e. she had a desk job in the U.S.) for over 5 years before the disclosure.

But here's the one ACTUAL fact that I can't get away from . . . I don't know all of the facts. So while my prism and I are inclined to make a determination here, as I learned (after some time) in the 80's with Iran-Contra, and as Clinton supporters learned thanks to Monica, and as poor Scott McClellan learned in defending Rove unequivocally two years ago, it is better to let my passions cool and my partisanship recede into the recesses of my cold conservative heart... before staking a position.

Instead, I will sit back and enjoy the hypocrisy of principle switching (pre-judging = good if you were a Republican during the Clinton years but it is bad to so now; pre-judging = bad if you were a Democrat during the Clinton years but through the wonders of time, like bell bottoms, is now back in fashion) and reading those who point this out.

Another possibility

2005-07-07T13:49:00.000-04:00

Wait... we were the red team!

sardonic -- adj -- cynically mocking

While some are rightfully questioning a possible connection between the London bombing and Paris' failed Olympic bid, is it possible that someone was not fooled by this ruse and thus became motivated to attack London?

Words

2005-07-06T21:32:00.000-04:00

are like women

Intoxicating... mysterious... infatuating... and, occasionally they drive you mad because of your inability to understand what they mean.

Were you lucky enough to experience WORDPak in junior high/high school? (Do you remember walking home from school wondering what the hell happened to the c?) After teachers tired of torturing their elementary students with SRAs, they employed WORDPak and then books by Jane Austen.

I have found myself immersed in historical American Revolution-themed works and biographies of our "founding fathers" (a phrase, I recently learned, was first coined by President, then Senator from Ohio, Warren G. Harding... who I recall from a visit to the Hall of Presidents at the Smithsonian over 10 years ago, may also have another noteworthy distinction... being the only President poisoned to death by his wife.)...

But I digress. As I said, I have read in the past month or am now reading "1776", "Alexander Hamilton", "John Adams", "His Excellency", and "The Writings of Alexander Hamilton". What has amazed me so far is that the breadth of their vocabulary stands every bit as awe-inspiring as their uncommon valor, brilliance, and patriotism. I mean, can you imagine people today using words like "emoluments", "foppery", and "parvenu" in every day conversation? And while it is understandable that people do not bandy a word like "manumission" around the water cooler, it hardly explains why "quotidian", "velleity", and "prolixity" do not find their way into our discourse.

As one person's small effort to color our language (and not blue) and in the spirit of sadisitc English teachers everywhere, each day I will post a word that relates to the piece I am writing, that I recently learned (from reading and not a calendar), or that simply strikes me.

So with that in mind... and as an homage to the most brilliant founding father, Alexander Hamilton...

autodidact -- n -- self-taught person

(note: emolument -- payment for an office or employment; foppery - foolish quality or action; parvenu - a person who has suddenly risen to a higer social and economic class and has not yet gained social acceptance by others in that clase ... e.g. Bill O'Reilly in his mind; manumission - formal act of freeing from slavery; quotidian - commonplace; velleity - mere wish or inclination; prolixity - tediously prolonged; wordy; tending to speak or write at excessive length)

Tresspassers William

2005-07-05T22:01:00.000-04:00

Great sounds and "sights"

Somewhere in my parent's house the vinyl version of Fleetwood Mac's "Rumors" rests in quiet obsolescence, Stevie Nicks having worked her magic on me years ago. Ten years later two other song sirens, Natalie Merchant and Edie Brickell, lured me to the music of the 10,000 Maniacs and the New Bohemians. Five years passed before an Irish lass, Ms. O'Riordan, fronting the Cranberries, stole my musical heart with Irish melodies. Two years later, my affections wandered to a Scottish woman, Shirley Manson, and the band Garbage.

In the ensuing years, either my tastes turned to female solo artists or the number of female-fronted rock bands waned. Whatever the case may be, two summers ago Amy Lee and Evanescence reignited my love of both sights and sounds.

And now, two years later, I am smitten again (and have been for a few months). Anna-Lynne Williams and Tresspassers William, my ear and affectionate gaze are yours.

Friends

2005-07-04T21:56:00.000-04:00

and not the NBC sitcom

35 years ago on this date I came into this world determined to accomplish three things ...

1) become the greatest hockey player the NHL has ever seen. While I still have a few good years left, taking into account that unlike other players my age, the only hits I have taken in the past 17 years have been inflicted by seventy-year old women carelessly careening around Giant Eagle, I suspect that my dreams of capturing a Hart Trophy are as whimsical as my aspiration of marrying Minnie Driver.

2) discover the cure for aging. Yes, aging. I have always believed that aging is not a natural process but a chronic disease that we all suffer from -- (though until this year, I was wondering if Dick Clark disproved the universality of my theory). Unfortunately, after falling asleep studying for my Virology exam my junior year at Pitt and subsequently sleeping through the exam, I decided that the world of science wasn't for me. While in theory one would think that knowing that the half life of Strontium 90 is approximately 28 years would impress women, the reality is that the only women who are impressed are tragically nerdy. I think it's safe to say that marriage to Minnie looks more likely.

3) find some incredible people to have as best friends. And by any measure, I have exceeded both the goal and my expectations. I am reminded of this every time I talk to them, or e-mail them, or read their work.

I have known my best friends for over half of my life now, and like any best friends, we have shared the highs and lows, the excusions and misadventures, and the memories and things-we-would-soon-like-to-forget.

When you are lucky, as I am, over the years and through these times your best friends become your brothers... and by extension, their families become part of your expanded immediate family. When you are especially lucky, as I am, your best friends marry wisely and your family of best friends grows as well.

My best friends have innumerable qualities that I love about them and that make them magnificent men... but none greater than these 3 . . . Wendy, Melissa, and Meredith. I treasure your thoughts, advice, and stories as much as I do those of my brothers.

So to my 6 best friends I say... thank you for making any birthday wish superfluous.

Elections Matter

2005-07-03T15:01:00.000-04:00

or Ted Kennedy, please shut up.

Both parties raised the issue in the 2004 Presidential campaign. The next President may... likely would, they said... have the power to alter the make-up of the court. Of course, when they said it, they (both sides) said it in their typically apocryphal way, ignoring the almost 220 years of history that had inconveniently (and to them, unknowingly) preceded their statements. (Do they recall, for example, the Revolution of 1937 that dramatically transformed the economic rules of this country? Or that FDR appointed 8 justices during his 3+ terms in office?)

True to form, at least one side's recollection of history does not now extend back as far as the 2004 elections. On numerous programs I have heard the likes of Sens. Ted Kennedy and Charles Schumer lecture the public how President Bush has a duty to confer not just with the Senate (controlled by the Republicans) but with Democrats in the Senate. Strange, then why exactly did you warn me in 2004 to care about this issue?

The left-wing of the Democratic Party along with Ralph Neas and NOW have said that since O'Connor was a moderate conservative, Bush must appoint a moderate conservative. Just as when Byron "Whizzer" White (Onterrio Smith's favorite justice), a moderate conservative, President Clinton bowed to pressure from Republicans and selected renowned conservative Ruth Bader Ginsburg... oh wait. Maybe, I'm thinking of when President Bush 41 replaced Thurgood Marshall, a dyed-in-the-wool liberal, with another liberal thinker, Clarence Thomas.

Presidents have the discretion in picking their appointees and certainly have no obligation to consider the opinions of those who voted overwhelmingly against them. (Sadly, I am certain there would be ideologically-crazed conservatives who would be demanding the same from John Kerry if he had been elected President).

The point is... and it is a simple one... if the nominee is a competent and intelligent jurist/individual, then he/she should be confirmed.

As a member of my law school's chapter of the Federalist Society, I can assure you that I found little in Ruth Bader Ginsburg's writings and views with which to find agreement. She was, however, a competent and intelligent selection, and the 97-3 confirmation vote for her was as it should be. While much was made this week about the Senate confirming Sandra Day O'Connor 99-0, we should also recall that the Senate confirmed Justice Scalia (unquestionably brilliant and conservative) 98-0. Again, the way it should be.

Kennedy (97-0), Souter (90-9), and Breyer (97-3) all found little resistance in their confirmations. The notable exceptions in these past 20 or 30 years... Robert Bork (42-58) and Thomas (52-48)... either had the unfortunate circumstances of being too forthright on their judicial philosophy (i.e. Bork did not prevaricate) or had 1 former colleague accuse them of sexual harassment, which raised, in at least some people's minds (mostly which broke down along party affiliation), legitimate questions about whether they were competent to serve.

So, will Bush's next appointment be a Bork and a Thomas, or a Scalia and a Ginsburg? My suspicion is that the answer to that is "none of the above". I think we are likely to see a return to the 70s when 68 voted for and 26 voted against Rehnquist and 65 voted for and 33 against John Paul Stevens for appointment to the Supreme Court and when the shrillest of voices found audience in a third of the Senate.

Qualifications be damned. Special interests are paramount, say those who fight for the last branch of government still under their ideological spell.

(Tuesday ... "And Why It Matters ")

On the Digital Jukebox

2005-05-26T22:35:00.000-04:00

iTunes

The only sensual pleasure without vice -- Samuel Johnson

In the interest of accepting at least one blog challenge, I humbly present . . .

LAST CD I PURCHASED:

Pre-ordered X & Y -- Coldplay

SONG PLAYING RIGHT NOW IN iTUNES:

Save Me -- Aimee Mann

EIGHT SONGS I LISTEN TO A LOT RIGHT NOW:

1. Everybody Wake Up (Our Finest Hour Arrives) -- Dave Matthews Band
2. Sometimes You Can't Make It On Your Own -- U2
3. I Can't Steal You -- Matthew Ryan
4. Honestly -- Zwan
5. Ugly -- The Exies
6. Smile Like You Mean It -- The Killers
7. Devils & Dust -- Bruce Springsteen
8. Your Eyes Open -- Keane

EIGHT SONGS THAT I JUST FEEL LIKE MENTIONING:

1. Un Jour IlViendra -- Sarah Brightman
2. Like A Song -- U2
3. Top -- Live
4. Pink Moon -- Nick Drake
5. Not for All the Love in the World -- The Thrills
6. Re-Offender -- Travis
7. A Girl Like You -- Edwyn Collins (Everytime I listen to this, I swear that it's David Bowie... but I like it anyway)
8. Let Go -- Frou Frou

And 2 categories of my own

EIGHT FAVES FROM EIGHT FAVES:
1. Black -- Pearl Jam
2. Bad -- U2
3. The Stone -- Dave Matthews Band
4. Trouble -- Coldplay
5. We Are the Normal -- Goo Goo Dolls
6. Atlantic City -- Bruce Springsteen
7. Sleep Better -- Pete Yorn
8. Zero -- The Smashing Pumpkins

EIGHT SONGS THAT WILL BE ON MY FIRST SOUNDTRACK (A tragic love story told in reverse chronlogical order):

1. (Opening Credits) Here's Where the Story Ends -- The Sundays
2. Waiting for that Day -- George Michael
3. For You -- Tracy Chapman
4. This Years Love -- David Gray
5. Avalanche -- Ryan Adams
6. Everything -- Lifehouse.
7. Smile -- Pearl Jam
8. (Closing Credits) She's the One -- Bruce Springsteen

Many Things to Say

2005-03-20T10:09:00.000-05:00

but so little time to say them...

* First and foremost, I hate West Virginia. They are the state equivalent of Randy Quaid and his family in "Christmas Vacation". It is the home of former klansman and current U.S. Senator Robert Byrd. And now, perhaps for the best reason of all, the university that bears its name knocked out Wake Forest from the men's NCAA tournament last night.

* Secondly, I hate Wake Forest. See above and please note the fact that I had WF winning it all in 2 of the 3 pools in which I am competing. Correction... in which I was competing.

* Thirdly, I hate West Virginia University. See 1 and 2 above. And note the fact that they beat Pitt twice this year.

* Since it's Sunday, please change "hate" in 1, 2, and 3 above to "passionately loathe".

* If you are reading this on any day other than Sunday, please insert "hate" for "passionately loathe" above.

* The Schiavo case -- on one side we have a mother, a father, a sister, and her caregivers and on the other side, we have a husband. No one can say what Terry Schiavo wants, so whom do we believe can best express her wishes? I cannot say. I do think that any state has business making life or death decisions, but I strongly believe that is a determination left to the states to make. For the record, in case I'm in a situation like this at some point, I definitely want to be kept alive and, more importantly, under no circumstances do I want Wake Forest in the Final Four or winning it all in any of my pools.

* The Schiavo case and the issue regarding homosexual unions reinforce in my mind the notion that Democrats and Republicans are whores to their constituents and find the notion of principles "whore-ifying". How else does one explain Republicans in both cases arguing against federalism (by arguing to overturn the decisions of the states) and Democrats in both cases arguing for federalism. (though in at least one of those cases, it does trouble me greatly that state judges and not state legislatures are making laws)

* For those who are cheering SF Mayor Gavin Newsom for his "courageous" stand against injustice (i.e. his decision to openly violate the law of California and marry gay and lesbian couples), I sincerely hope that you likewise rally around the next mayor who "courageously" decides to pass out handguns to minors or narcotics to citizens of all ages because of his personal views on what the law should be rather than what the law is. And by the way, is Mr. Newsom agreeing to marry men and/or women who would like to have a 2nd, 3rd, and/or 4th spouse? If not, why isn't Mr. Newsom "courageous" enough to stand up for polygamists whose rights are surely being just as trampled as the rights of gays and lesbians in California.

* Some 230 years ago, Immanuel Kant laid out the foundation for a system of morality and ethics based on the fundamental notion that an object must be treated as an end in and of itself and not as a means to end. In other words, something cannot be said to be moral simply because the outcome of the action is good or virtuous. Or, more simply, the end doesn't justify the means. It's a shame that too many of our elected officials, Republicans and Democrats, stopped reading philosophy after being introduced to John Stuart Mill's utilitarianism or, more likely, found Kant's moral absolutistism too difficult to comprehend.

* Or maybe it's something much simpler -- our politicians are neither moral relativists (though they certainly act like it at times) or moral absolutists (which they can be when it's convenient), but rather something much more craven and sad -- moral opportunists.

Tact

2005-02-23T13:22:00.000-05:00

or why it is sometimes best to keep our mouths shut no matter how awkward it may seem to do the same

I still think about the time that during an otherwise enjoyable conversation I had with a co-worker, I innocently (inanely) asked her if the picture on her desk was a picture of her father. In my defense, I think we had talked about her father (or at least that's how I choose to recall this). I remember her face reddened a little as she said, "no, that's Tony. My husband."

I reddened more than a little.

I knew before I finished my question that I didn't and shouldn't want to finish my question. If I lived in a cartoon universe, I can assure you that I would have reeled in my conversation blurb before she had an opportunity to read my words.

I'm sure that my former girlfriend's mother experienced much the same intense regret when she attended the viewing for the mother of a schoolmate. She and her boyfriend ran into the grief-striken girl in the vestibule of the funeral parlor. The girl, like the two of them, was a freshman at college at the time and was clearly touched that a high school classmate would make the effort to come to the viewing.

"Noreen, I'm so glad that you came," the girl said.

Noreen, like many of us in such situations, felt awkward being appreciated on a day of sorrow. She, like many of us, searched for the words that might make this girl feel better, perhaps not realizing that her mere appearance was enough.

Instead, Noreen hugged her and said, "I wouldn't have missed this for the world."

Nervous laughter by Noreen and her boyfriend ensued, followed by their hasty departure, leaving the girl to her grief and confusion.

Then there is Meathead (an alias for a high school classmate of mine). Meathead was not a super bright person, hence the name, and he did have a tendency to place his foot in his mouth so often that his dentist treated him for athlete's foot.

Even so, I cannot imagine that even Meathead intended to be so callous that day in the Gap.

Meathead ran into Eric and I talking to Beth and Kathy at the jeans store in the Berkshire Mall. Beth and Kathy were (I believe they still are) sisters whose father had passed away from stomach cancer a few months before.

Meathead must have overheard us talking about their father because he thoughtfully (for him) asked, "how is your dad doing?"

My grandmother is 85. Her mother died over 40 years ago. To this day it is difficult for her to talk about that. She can talk about all of the great things her mother did, but acknowledging that her mother is no longer among us is hard even after all of this time.

So, I cannot imagine it would be any easier for 2 college-age girls, only a few months removed from their father's death, to say "he passed away"... but they managed to do so.

Most people in situations like this instinctively reply, "I'm so sorry to hear that. How are you doing?" They may not truly mean it or care, but they are human enough to know that they too could be there one day and that this is the courteous thing to say.

Mike, however, is called Meathead for a reason. I can still hear the words clearly as if lodged as a permanent voicemail message in my mind ...

"Oh that's right, I forgot your dad bit the dust."

Being the sick, twisted person that I am, and being fortunate enough to have best friends who share my same gallows humor, even if I want to forget these lessons about the safety of maintaining the awkward silence, I cannot.

So thank you, Eric, for informing me that the great Dolphins punter, Reggie Roby, has died at the age of 43, for reminding me of this timeless lesson of tactfulness, and for letting me know that "another one bites the dust".

Modern Art Sucks Part II

2005-02-19T15:31:00.000-05:00

The Gates of Hell

On February 12 of this year, New York suffered its worst tragedy since September 11th.

On that day "The Gates" was completed and viewable to the public.

When viewing a work of modern art, I force myself to remember that art is like religion in that it is exceedingly difficult to define, which is why one person's cult is another's religion and why one person's spectacle is another's art. So while Tom Cruise and John Travolta, therefore, may rightfully claim that Scientology is an actual religion just as The Gates is a work of art, I cannot help but wonder how very different "the religion of Scientology" would be if the early adopters of said religion decided that L. Ron Hubbard's books were a bit too challenging and had instead decided upon Dr. Seuss as the lynchpin of their new spiritual awakening.

I can hear the sermon now (assuming said early adopters were also alcoholics)...

Their god is a clod.
An unrepetent fraud.
He makes them pay for sin.
We say, "hey, pass the gin."

To me The Gates is not art but a spectacle, and not an environmentally friendly one at that. It's best "seen" from the air, so people are chartering helicopters to "experience" what to my eyes looks like a ski run in Kiev. Air pollution. Noise pollution. Exactly what Central Park needs in greater quantities, right?

And while I can appreciate other's appreciation for it, just as I appreciate those who find value in Duchamp's Ready-Made urinals and snow shovels, I find Central Park a curious place to "create" this saffron spectacle, if one of the artists' motivating factors was not simply "publicity".

I'm reminded of the THE MOST PHOTOGRAPHED BARN IN AMERICA in DeLillo's "White Noise". Murray asked, "[w]hat was the barn like before it was photographed? What did it look like, how was it different from other barns, how was it similar to other barns? We can't answer these questions because we've read the signs, seen the people snapping the pictures. We can't get outside the aura. We're part of the aura. We're here, we're now."

Imagine The Gates in a park identical to Central Park in North Dakota. Without the fanfare. Without the spectacle. Without the hype. You happen upon it... a piece completed by a group of local high school students. Does that change it for you?

And while it is true that our perceptions are altered with respect to any work of art -- even a classic work of art -- about which there is some expectation, if you put the "Mona Lisa" in my bedroom, it would not fundamentally alter your appreciation for that work. Modern art, particularly spectacle art like The Gates, requires our expectations because (to my mind) its intrinsic aesthetic qualities are minimal.

Thankfully The Gates comes down on February 28. So while some will lament its short life in much the same way that some (happily no one I know) lamented the only 13-week run of "Cop Rock", I can only say that The Gates is a spectacle whose end, like February 28, cannot come too soon.

A Tuesday Morning Drive

2005-02-15T13:32:00.000-05:00

What the hell are people thinking?

My mother is fond of saying "it's a full moon and all of the crazies were out today" after a day chock-full of lunatic (mental footnote: of course, the very word deriving from similar such theories) customers.

Not that I will often disagree with my mother (at least not in public; privately that's another matter), but I don't believe it matters if the moon is a full moon or a new moon (aside: why do we call a moon that is completely obscured a "new moon"? "No moon" or "Used moon" seems a more apt description) or waxing or waning (aside: admit it, discussing the phases of the moon instantly reminds you of "The Karate Kid").

Or maybe my mom is right, it's just that I think of incredibly stupid people as the "new crazy" (I don't mean that they are "obscured crazy people" rather I use "new" in the sense that pink is the new yellow. Stupidity is the new crazy).

Take, for example, Mr. Rusty Van. As many of you know, I have no affinity for bumper stickers. They are car tattoos. "Ross Perot in '92" may seem like a great idea at the time you affixed that sticker to your bumper -- just as "Mary Sue Forever" seemed like a great idea for a tattoo in '92 -- but as Sara, your wife in 2004, can attest, great ideas have a way of turning on you.

As dumb as Mr. Rusty Van may be, even he didn't stupidly proclaim his allegience to Ross Perot 9 or 13 years after the fact. Nor did Mr. Rusty Van have a Joe Hoeffel sticker on his car (outside of his immediate family, and even them I am not sure about, no one trumpetted their support for Joe on the back of their car).

No, Mr. Rusty Van instead sported a bumper sticker for a "24-hour Pet Burial Service". It's bad enough that I once saw a mini-van (the property of the presumptive owner of such burial service, I hope) with "24-hour Pet Burial Service" emblazoned on each side (yet another aside: now that I think about it, I sincerely hope that Mr. Rusty Van's "24-hour Pet Burial Service" bumper sticker is several years old. I shudder to think that this service is still in business). But Mr. Rusty Van is actually advertising for this service. A service that provides practically ZERO value.

As a starting point, who in the hell gets up at 2 in the morning, finds his pet dead, and says "we'd MUST bury him now"? Assuming for a minute a person suffering from OCD would make such a request, why would he need a service to do it? It's not like it's grandma that just croaked in the upstairs bedroom. This is a pet -- beloved, no doubt -- and we still find it socially acceptable (dare I say, we have a societal expectation) to bury our pets on our property (word of caution: it's only socially acceptable for serial killers to bury human relatives on their property).

I didn't have long to contemplate this thought, as I made my way south on I-79 to work this morning. Shortly after passing Mr. Rusty Van, I came upon Clueless Chick in Caravan sporting a "I'm Straight But Not Narrow" bumper sticker.

Maybe I'm the one that is demented or stupid for thinking about these things. But I have to admit to spending the next 10 minutes trying to figure out what could possibly possess someone to put that bumper sticker on his/her car. I'm guessing the store was all out of the "I'm a Raging Homophobe" bumper stickers, so Clueless Chick in Caravan purchased the next best thing.

I would have spent the next 15 minutes (not just 10) thinking about this and not figuring out an answer, but I drove past the Ass in the Audi, a few miles before my exit... still on the highway.

My suspicion is that the Ass in the Audi doesn't believe that talking on a cellphone while operating a motor vehicle makes one more susceptible to an auto accident. I suspect that not because the Ass in the Audi was talking on a cellphone. No, the Ass in the Audi would clearly consider such a feat too mundane, not challenging enough for his tastes. The Ass in the Audi found something more challenging (a.k.a. infinitely more dangerous for his fellow travelers). The Ass in the Audi decided that this morning was a perfect time to read the newspaper on his way to work. And he was not just glancing at the front page headlines. The Ass in the Audi had the entire paper open as if he was sitting at the diningroom table reading the Sunday paper over breakfast. The only difference here being, of course, that he was driving 75 mph down the highway. (aside: and yes, I did say I drove past him, but I still vehemently deny ever speeding. At least that's the story I have ready for any district justice that I may appear in front of)

Perhaps I missed it. Perhaps, like me, some young engineer at Audi found the tv show "Knight Rider" intriguing as a child. Perhaps, unlike me, this young engineer was in a position to build an Audi that, like K.I.T.T. from "Knight Rider", steered itself. Perhaps talking to the driver and saying such things as "what did the Post-Gazette have to say about Pitt's win last night?"

Perhaps... but I doubt it.

The Ass in the Audi, like the Clueless Chick in Caravan and Mr. Rusty Van, is simply the new crazy... which is to say... incredibly stupid.

Celebrating a Martyr

2005-02-14T19:53:00.000-05:00

Holiday stupidity

As you all know, today we celebrate the death of a Roman who was martyred for refusing to give up Christianity. I'm sure that most of you are spending time giving thanks to this Roman who continued to marry people against the mandate of Emperor Claudius, who had wanted to ensure that the men of his empire had no attachment to loved ones so that he could send them off to war. Legend has it that on the day of his death, St. Valentine left a note to the daughter of his jailer expressing thanks for her friendship. (At least this last part explains the cards)

I guess one could plausibly say that on Valentine's Day we are remembering that a man gave his life so that others could experience the joys of matrimony. Except does anyone even remember that and is this at all tied to what people actually do on Valentine's Day?

No, in our typically American way we have turned an act of selflessness and decency into a day of "you'd better do something to show that you love me". And while some demented soul might think that picking a restaurant for his wife and him to eat at without her input is as dangerous as defying a Roman Emperor, picking the wrong restaurant or sending your loved one the Country Lovin' Bear instead of the Love Bandit typically does not lead to death.

But Valentine's Day is not unique in this way.

We all get a day off of work on "Labor Day", but people in the lumber and milling industry are all working on "Arbor Day".

There is also "Secretary's Day" on which we recognize secretaries for doing exactly what we have paid them to do. Oddly, to my knowledge, there isn't a "garbage man's day" on which we give praise to the men and women who take our bags of dirty diapers and banana peels away. No, we don't recognize this because THIS IS WHAT THEY ARE PAID TO DO!

Without question, however, the most ridiculous holiday in the world, which also happens to be my absolute favorite bar none, is the British holiday that takes place in the beginning of November -- Guy Fawkes Day.

Who is Guy Fawkes you ask and why is he celebrated? Well, he fought for the Spanish for over 10 years, which probably isn't a good reason for the English to honor him. No, Guy Fawkes is remembered for attempting to blow up Parliament as part of the Gunpower Plot. It seems odd to honor a man who was not only a traitor (last time I checked no one had successfully passed a Benedict Arnold Day here in the States) but an incompetent terrorist to boot. In his book "A Narrative on the Gunpower Plot", David Jardine described Fawkes as "a zealot, misled by misguided fanaticism, who was, however, by no means destitute of piety or humanity." (An aside to Mr. Jardine: when exactly was the last time you saw fanaticism properly guided?)

He's an incompetent zealot, but he's not completely devoid of humanity.

What a wonderful ringing endorsement for someone I want to name and celebrate a holiday after.

And the best part? How do you think the English pay tribute to this "great man" on Guy Fawkes Day? Of course by lighting bonfires and shooting off fireworks. Personally, I think they should celebrate the day by attempting to light bonfires and shooting off fireworks but failing miserably.

One can only imagine that if this form of English irony invades America, we will one day be celebrating "Osama Bin Laden Day", on which we will blow up the largest buildings in our towns.
As unbelievable and mind-numbingly impossible as that sounds, you'd be lying if part of you didn't think we were stupid enough to do it. After all, what do the selfless acts of a Roman priest have to do with your obligatory dinner date this evening?

Happy Valentine's Day.

Quick reviews

2005-02-07T23:33:00.000-05:00

TV... Movies... Books

Tomorrow is the 2 hour finale of the Amazing Race 6. As much as I'm looking forward to that, I was extremely disappointed to learn that Amber and Rob from Survivor (and Survivor All-Star) fame will be participating in the Amazing Race 7 (in March). When did this show begin celebrity casting?

A part of me wondered if Ray garnered the Oscar nominations that it did because of sentiment for its titular star -- Ray Charles Robinson. After watching 2 hours and 30 minutes of an amazing Jamie Foxx performance in an utterly engrossing film, my only regret is that the film was not another hour long. Each of those nominations was well-deserved.

the Memory of Running by Ron McLarty is a modern day version of A Catcher in the Rye, except interesting and worth reading.

Blink by Malcolm Gladwell... very insightful. If you get a chance, take an IAT at this site and learn some interesting things about yourself and your (our) biases.

Modern Art Sucks Part I

2005-01-31T23:58:00.000-05:00

A sidenote about the horror that masquerades as art

I'm not sure how I forgot to mention it, but in addition to the sales support service award (and the all important bonus!), I also led our scavenger hunt team to 1st place (1st out of 14... impressive indeed) that Friday evening at the Carnegie Museum. I probably failed to mention it because of the prize that each of my excited teammates and I won... a hard plastic triceratops.

Before you go thinking that this in any way was a cool prize, allow me to provide you with some quotes:

One of our regional directors said this, "I'm very glad now that my team did not win."
A number of colleagues of mine chimed in with, "that really is hideous."
And a friend said sympathetically, "I don't even think my five year-old son would want that."

So what could be so awful that neither a 5-year boy nor any sane adult would want any parts of it? It is a dinosaur after all!

Actually, though it is shaped liked a triceratops, that's not what it is referred to as on the side of the box.

No, it's not a triceratops but a "Ketchup-Saurus".

Yes, that's right, a triceratops, painted red, with a giant Heinz ketchup sticker on its back.

All of which led to this thought... "if an asteroid, or temperature changes, or evolutionary trends hadn't killed the dinosaur, surely modern art would have."

Fast Track to Dentures

2005-01-29T22:03:00.000-05:00

A dentist for those who abhor healthy teeth

I'm walking Otto home from his grooming appointment, minding my own business, which is to say "daydreaming", when a sign assaults my peace of mind. Beneath the name of some Sewickley dentist, just before the words "general dentist", a word insanely sits and smiles at you... "alternative". As in Dr. Sewickley Dentist is both freakin' insane and an alternative general dentist.

Now, I thought the alternative to dentistry was letting your teeth rot and having them fall out, or, alternatively, moving to England.

I peeked in the window to see if a band of lesbians, gays, and bi-sexuals filled the waiting room. Now I can't say definitively that the man and woman living-fossils who were either waiting to see Dr. Alternative (or who may have, in fact, been dead... the funeral home is just a few buildings down, so perhaps it was a misdelivery) were not homo or bi-sexuals, but the dumb-looking couple with two dumber looking kids certainly weren't.

I found myself hoping that Dr. Alternative was simply a big Pearl Jam or Foo Fighters fan, but I suspect that the witchdoctor's 21st century descendant, alternative medicine, has invaded dentistry.

Instead of novacaine, a drill, and proper dental hygiene, one pays for the pleasure of sitting in a chair and having a man in a white coat who tells you that he didn't graduate from college but he has watched a lot of college football games. Perhaps Dr. Alternative received his degree from the same cereal box that most chiropractors do (note: there is a reason that doctors practice medicine in professional buildings, whereas most chiropractors can be found cracking backs next to Giant, Foodland, or Redner's in some strip mall).

Maybe Dr. Alternative manipulates your mandible and massages your maxilla in the belief that poor alignment and stress are the precursors to cavities. Does the alternative orthodontist simply hit your kid in the mouth with a baseball bat? I suspect that the alternative oral surgeon has you repeatedly bite down on jawbreakers to remove your wisdom teeth.

I'm sure Dr. Alternative tells his clients that they may drink all of the sugary sodas that they want, that they needn't worry about time-consuming flossing or brushing, just make sure they talk to each tooth and encourage them not to succomb to the cavity creeps.

Call me old-fashioned, but I'm going to stick to the dentist with a drill and a degree. Sure he makes mistakes and covers them up by saying "rinse", but I prefer this guy who takes x-rays of my teeth, than Dr. Alternative, who I can only imagine walks into his appointments and announces that he's going to scan your teeth with his x-ray vision, just before he puts on Enya and begins chanting "decay decay go away".

Snocaine Habit

2005-01-25T19:48:00.000-05:00

Otto's Next Stop... Rehab?

I inquired at work the other day to see if my health care plan covered in-patient treatment for pets with drug problems. Otto does not toke up nor have I found any syringes tucked surreptitiously inside his cage.

I asked this question because it has become apparent over the last couple of days that Otto has a serious snocaine habit. The first time or two, I tried to brush it off as just "recreational" use or experimentation. There's no denying it now though -- he's a hard core snocaine addict.

And before you go blaming me for this, you must understand that I have done my best to drag him along during our morning and evening lemon-snowcone-making adventures, to keep him on the straight and narrow. But alas, every couple of feet, he digs in and buries his snout in a fresh pile of powder and snorts.

I haven't helped. When he pulls free of the snow, I can't help but laugh. He looks for all the world like a team photo of the BYU basketball or football team.

This is a serious matter, I realize. He has all the classic signs of addiction -- excited behavior… frequent urination… defacating in public… it's quite sad. He's just a little over 14 years old (which is 2 in people's years). He has his whole life -- at least 11 more years, I hope -- ahead of him.

For people who think a snocaine habit is glamorous, my spray bottle of Pet Resolve and I can assure you that it is anything but. Oddly enough God did not fashion a dog's digestive system to handle mounds of dirty snow. Horribly bland dog food -- not that I have tried it, but I imagine that it would be -- yes. But not snow.

HR got back to me today to break the bad news -- no coverage. So while men with limp penises can get prescriptions for a temporary fix -- a temporary stiffy, I am left to my own devices to treat a miniature schnauzer with a snocaine habit and an upset stomach.

The Day After

2005-01-24T20:14:00.000-05:00

sans the nuclear Holocaust

Either fantasy football has completely warped my perspective and killed my love of the Steelers or I have matured.

Today I woke up not depressed nor suicidal nor wondering about "what might have been". No, I woke up today as I do most days with a 20 pound dog sprawled across my chest, licking my face, and reminding me that life goes on no matter what the score of yesterday's AFC Championship game.

This past Friday night I attended my company's sales awards banquet. Every January, our distributors and direct sales people fly in from the thriving and cramped streets of Bangalore, India and the picturesque Munich hamlet of Otterfing and from just about every other place imaginable across the globe. Many are friends; all are good company -- at least for one night.

In the atrium of the Carnegie Museum of Natural History acknowledgements and thanks are given out like candy on Halloween... and near the end, a few big candy bars are delivered... in the form of the two awards for excellence in sales support (i.e. all of the non-sales people who help in the sales process... or at least that's the theory).

Winning this award, being recognized for excellence in what I do means far more to me than the score of yesterday's Steelers game. So while I was deeply disappointed last night, I woke up warmed by the thought of my Friday night award and something else even more important to me than a 5th Super Bowl victory for my beloved Steelers -- and while I'm sure (at least most of the time) my family, health, and all the usual suspects might be appropriate responses here... after a painful Steelers loss, those, quite frankly, aren't tremendous solace... because, and let's be honest, I have those all year round anyway.

No, last night's loss seemed distant to me this morning as I smiled and thought of what is more lasting and important to me than a trip to Jacksonville.... a nice bonus check to deposit that accompanied my award.

Because as much as I will always be a hardcore Steelers fan at heart, I'm an even harder core capitalist.

Eagles 14-10

2005-01-23T16:25:00.000-05:00

Like I said...

You can't give a good team 2nd chances. This time the Eagles gave the Falcons second life with a personal foul - hands to the face (or whatever they called it). 2 plays later -- despite one clean and vicious Brian Dawkins hit -- touchdown Falcons.

End of the 1st

2005-01-23T15:51:00.000-05:00

unsuccessful but damn smart

With 1:00 left in the 1st quarter, I kept hoping the Eagles would use a time out to ensure that the Falcons wouldn't have the wind to kick a field goal. With 0:01 left, the Eagles did just that. Forcing the Falcons to go for it. Some may criticize Andy Reid for that call, I thought it was damn smart.

Side note: Even with the wind, I'm not sure Michael Vick will complete more than 10 passes. He looks AWFUL.

7-0 Eagles

2005-01-23T15:40:00.000-05:00

Penalties kill

As we have seen time and time again this season, you absolutely cannot give a good team second chances. The Eagles went three and almost out. D'Angelo Hall grabs a face mask, gets called for illegal hands to the face, and the Eagles steamroll over the Falcons with a beautiful delayed trap with Westbrook, a scorcher to L.J. Smith, and old man Dorsey Levens carrying 10 Falcons with him after being initially stopped at the 2 for a touchdown. 7-0 Eagles.

Sidenote: I thought bumping a receiver 15 yards down the field was either interference or illegal contact downfield?

Championship Sunday

2005-01-23T14:09:00.000-05:00

A day long diary of events

It's 1 hour before the first of two big games. This is the time when games are won and lost. Hopefully I have done right by the Eagles. I'm wearing jeans, a white turtleneck with a Mr. Yuck green t-shirt overtop. The Eagles are going to make the Falcons sick all day. If the Eagles lose (which isn't going to happen), then I may regret not wearing my green Woodstock t-shirt instead.

My unwashed, pizza-stained Steelers t-shirt is resting up for the 6:30 game. Though no professor has published a study indicating that Tide can leech the remaining bit of luck in a piece of clothing, I'm not taking any chances.

And, oh, when the Steelers and Eagles do meet in 2 weeks. You can be sure that my Mr. Yuck t-shirt will be washed while my Steelers t-shirt will be funky.

Pain and Predictions

2005-01-22T21:39:00.000-05:00

See you in Jacksonville

Much to say but not the pain tolerance to say it. Either someone has stuck a thin, long knife into my cervical vertebrae or I have pulled a muscle in my neck. In any case, this is going to be short... very short.

Eagles-Falcons

Some people are trying to figure out what the weather/wind is going to be like in Philly/at Lincoln Field tomorrow. If I were an Eagles fan, I would be more concerned about the weather later in the week, if I were planning on flying to Jacksonville to watch the Eagles in the Super Bowl. A repeat of 2002... Eagles 20 Falcons 7

Steelers-Patriots

Conventional wisdom and most pundits have this game as a close one...with the Patriots winning by a field goal. Unless Belichick can figure out a scheme that lets him put 15 men out on the field on defense, the Steelers will steamroll over the Patriots for a 2nd time this season... Steelers 31 Patriots 15.

Great Movie Line

2005-01-20T02:25:00.000-05:00

a "Real Genius" line, you might say

Somewhere between watching a TiVo'ed episode of this evening's (or last evening's, more accurately) Lost and falling asleep on my couch for the 4th time in 6 days, my favorite movie line of all time popped into my head.

It's nothing as memorable as "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn" or as prosaic as "I'm king of the world". Rather, I think I enjoy it so much because it's something I can imagine myself saying (and am envious that I did not think of it first). The fact that it references one of the ancient world's great thinkers, requires a certain amount of historical knowledge to appreciate, and titillates one's macabre "sensibilities" makes me love it all the more.

So without further ado...

Val Kilmer, in that "classic" 80's film, Real Genius, says, "I believe it was Socrates who said, 'I drank what?'"

Dear Mike and Mike in the Morning

2005-01-18T22:01:00.000-05:00

(cue) "on ESPN radio" (in sing song voice)

It's nice to see that you have joined the millions of other short-term-memory-addled, "what have you done for me lately" crowd.

I heard you this morning as you told me and every other Steelers fan that you must factor in what happened in this past weekend's playoff games. The Steelers were "lucky" to make it to the championship game and the Patriots throttled a team that many considered to be the best in the league.

I guess I'm supposed to forget the 15-1 record. I'm supposed to forget 2 impressive victories against the 2 teams favored to make it to the Super Bowl in Jacksonville. And certainly I'm supposed to disregard the first of those impressive victories... the 34-20 thumping of Bill Belichick's Boys from Boston.

They didn't have Corey Dillon. There was no Deion Branch. The Steelers played a perfect game. The Patriots were bound to lose sometime after winning all of those games in a row. Tom Brady is 7-0 in the postseason. Bill Braniac is 13-0 the 2nd time his Pats have played a team in the same season. They have the X Factor -- oh no, wait... sorry, that's another rant about another team/player for another time.

Sound familiar?

Only by luck did they beat a team that had lost its last three games of the regular season. It was a game that many people thought they lost or at least should have lost. They needed a late score and a field goal in OT to secure a trip to the AFC Championship team. Their AFC Championship opponent, however, just clocked a team that many regarded as one of the best in the league. An opponent who the week before had completely dominated their opponent. They are starting a quarterback who just came off his first playoff game, and, as I mentioned before, he is lucky to have a 2nd playoff game. Sure, the quarterback had a magical season in his first season as a starter and won a bunch of games in a row, but this magical ride ends this week. Remember, this guy was going to be the backup all season, but for a near-season-ending injury to the starter in the second game of the season.

Of course, you know who I'm talking about.

Yep, the 2001 New England Patriots.

But wait...

Mike and Mike said that we are supposed to look at what happened last week. Okay, the Steelers won. Ah, but look at how Roethlisberger played. Look at how fortunate the Steelers were to get by a mediocre Jets team.

And as we learned in 2001, all of what happened the week before and all of the talk of luck and good fortune and a quarterback with barely any playoff experience... all of this matters not at all.

The Pats won 24-17 against the Steelers that year. Did it matter that the obscure tuck rule had saved their season? Did it matter that they needed an Adam Vinateri field goal in overtime to make it to the championship game? Did it matter that Tom Brady was in his first season as a starter, having assumed the role of starter in Week 3 after a devastating injury to Drew Bledsoe in Week 2? Did it matter that Brady was making just his 2nd playoff start against the favored Steelers?

Was it perhaps more important how Brady and the Patriots had played since Brady took over? Would it be fair to say that the 14 games he had as a starter were a better indication of his play than his playoff game in the snow against the Oakland Raiders?

The past is predicate, but the past is more than just yesterday...and more than your last game.

There is a lesson to be learned from that 2001 Patriots season... unfortunately Mike and Mike (and the other talking heads) have learned the wrong lesson.

On Sunday, we will all learn that lesson once again.

Maybe next time they'll remember it.

Believing

2005-01-16T12:05:00.000-05:00

... or is it wishful thinking?

Some time around 3:00 yesterday afternoon, Ed Bouchette interviewed Peter King, who discussed his November article on the Steelers and said about the Steelers an hour and a half before kickoff -- they are a great team because great teams, even when they are not playing their best, find a way to win.

4:30/4:35 -- Kickoff

While my Renee (sister), Terry (brother-in-law), Mike (cousin), and Shawn (cousin-in-law) and 64,911 other fans twirled their Terrible Towels, I sat in my livingroom with my dad as he rocked nervously back and forth Leo Mazzone-style.

End of 1st quarter

It was 10-0 and it looked to all the world (or at least me, anyway) as if the Steelers were going to walk away with this one because in 4 games against the Steelers in this half decade, the Jets have managed just 1 touchdown... and that was on a half back option... and hadn't scored more than 7 points in any of those games.

Santana Freakin' Moss

Watching a game with my dad is like watching it with Monsieur Meursault from Camus' "The Stranger" -- except that my dad is slightly more of a fatalist. He declared the game all but over at that point. I reminded him that there was a half of football left and that to my knowledge no team had ever lost a game by a score of 10 to 10. Besides, the last game was 3-3 at half time. And the Jets offense still hadn't scored against the Steelers.

In an effort to save the Steelers' season, my dad changed into a Roethlisberger jersey at halftime while I walked Otto. While I can't be certain, I strongly suspect that if my dad hadn't changed his attire, the Steelers would have handily won this football game. Thankfully, I was able to counterbalance this effect by folding up the blanket I had been using to keep myself warm (as turning the thermostat up past 65 hadn't occurred to me) -- because the Steelers hadn't lost a game all year in which I had watched them without a blanket.

My sister and brother-in-law called at halftime from the game -- a bit concerned. This wasn't the Indy-Broncos game that they were hoping for. I calmly told them that the Steelers would win. I wasn't worried about that -- and oddly, I really wasn't.

Getting slipped the Tongue

The game WAS OVER, according to my dad, when Roethlisberger threw a perfect strike to Reggie Tongue, who returned the pass 86 yards for a touchdown. The game WAS OVER even though the Steelers had more than a quarter to score 1 TD to tie the game. I reminded him of this, but my dad has never let things such as logic override his fatalistic sensibilities when it comes to the Steelers, so the game still WAS OVER. (Mind you, this is a man who was at the "Immaculate Reception" game -- and every other game that the Steelers played at home during the 70s -- but who missed seeing Franco make the catch and score the touchdown because he had buried his head in his lap after Bradshaw's pass ricocheted off either Jack Tatum [if you are a Steelers fan or the referee who called the game] or Frenchy Fuqua [if you are a Raiders fan], so convinced was he that the game was over. 33 years later and not much has changed, except he buries his head a quarter or two earlier.) And yet, despite the fact that the game WAS OVER, my father, who mixes his fatalism with a healthy dose of sado-masochism, kept watching. I still believed that the Steelers would win, because great teams win these games.

The drive and the fumble

The Steelers' second series after the Tongue debacle reminded us all of why the Steelers were 15-1 heading into this game... because even with 8 or 9 or 10 guys in the box late in the game, the Steelers become an unstoppable running force. Well, almost unstoppable -- a Bettis fumble -- that occurs about as often as a Don Henley album release -- stopped them and once and for all convinced my father that (with a little less than 1 quarter to play and the Steelers down by only a touchdown) the game was REALLY OVER now.

He went upstairs, took off the Roethlisberger jersey, and came down only after he heard me yell "touchdown".

The field goals and the interception

Father Fatalism scurried back upstairs shortly after I informed him of the shuffle pass to Hines Ward, so he didn't see Doug Brien line up for a 47 yard field goal with 2:03 to play. A stat shot across the screen that said the longest field goal at Heinz Field by a visiting kicker was 46 yards. I'm sure my father would have said, had he been watching, "they are jinxing us. He's going to make it." I, on the other hand, was certain that he would miss it. My dad ran down the stairs when he heard me cry "yes" after the ball clanked off the cross bar -- a game of inches indeed.

With 1:57 left to play, 2 timeouts, and the ball at their own 37, the Steelers began their 2 minute offense -- the very same one that had marched us down the field so effortlessly against the Jacksonville Jaguars for a game-winning field goal. Whether more effort would be required this time turned out to be a moot question as Ben's first pass sailed over Burress and into the hands of the Jets' David Barrett. Several plays later, with 0:04 left on the clock, Doug Brien trotted back onto the field for a chance at redemption and to end a storybook season.

My father, having returned from his self-imposed exile, apparently eager to experience first-hand the pain associated with an unexpected and crushing defeat, sat next to me on the couch, waiting to say "they stink" and "I told you this game was over". My sister, I would later learn, sat in the stands and cried, while my brother-in-law sat next to her hugging the husband and the wife to his side. All hoping for a miss. I sat and believed.

There is, I'm sure, a fine line between belief, self-deception, and hope... but there was not one moment in that game when I thought the Steelers would lose. I did not hope. I did not self-deceive. I believed that Brien would miss his field goal.

And miss it he did.

Overtime

The Steelers overcame a punt return for a touchdown, an interception for a touchdown, and my dad's donning of a Roethlisberger jersey to get into overtime. Was there any question that they would win this game?

My nephew (Robbie) returned with my mother from my grandmother's house as overtime began. Robbie excitedly ran toward the television, looked back at us and said, "meatball" -- as in his favorite Elmo DVD. Sorry, Robbie, there are things bigger than meatballs. More important than Elmo. When he gets older, he'll have a better perspective on this -- when he sends his own child off into the crying arms of his mother or grandparents, glued to the glorious spectacle that is playoff football, he'll understand.

After a generous third down spot gave them a first down on their first series in OT, the Steelers forced the Jets to punt and started the game's final drive from their own 13.

A vintage Steelers' drive later (running, running, Roethlisberger scrambling and throwing, and then more running), Jeff Reed lined up a game-winning 33 yard field-goal. My dad rocked anxiously next to me -- hoping for an improbable Steelers victory. My sister and brother-in-law continued their crying, hugging, and hoping. I believed.

20-17

Just inside the right post went Jeff Reed's kick and with it, the Steelers to the AFC Championship Game next Sunday night at Heinz Field.

There are no guarantees or certainties in life. The Colts and Patriots both are capable of beating the Steelers next week -- as are the Falcons or Eagles in the Super Bowl.

But as Duce Staley said after the game, "You just have to have faith."

And as Peter King said before and Hines Ward echoed after the game last night, the Steelers will find a way to win because "[t]hat's what great teams do."

That's what I believe.

Friday Night Lights

2005-01-14T22:44:00.000-05:00

quick sound off

Come sister, come brother-in-law, come father, mother, and nephew. My house of 1 will soon be a B-and-B of 6... and 2 dogs.

In honor of the parade of award shows that have already started...

Most honest author award:

Atul Gawande -- "Complications: A Surgeon's Notes on an Imperfect Science". A rare acknowledgement by a doctor that doctors make mistakes... quite often... but the alternative may otherwise be a world in which only 72 year old physicians have any experience. Honest and insightful.

Ridiculously optimistic award:

Tie: Too many banks to mention. Drive by any bank that displays the time for your convenience. The bank is also kind enough to show you the current temperature as well... in Fahrenheit.... and Celsius. Perhaps I missed it. Did Americans become metric-savy overnight? Was 7 year-old Johnny sitting in the back of the car, prepared to dust off "C = 5/9(F-32)" but for the dual temperature reading of the clock? Yes, I want 1 lb of turkey breast. No wait, please make that 454 grams of turkey breast. Maybe... just maybe... I could see some frat guy becoming a fan of the metric system... "Yeah, baby, I've got 10... centimeters... that I can't wait to show you."

Patronizing and pandering award:

The government. On Monday many people (not your truly however) will receive a vacation day -- a much needed vacation day seeing as New Year's Day was all of 2 weeks ago and Christmas was the week before that. Monday we observe Martin Luther King's birthday. Maybe I'm in the minority on this, but as great a man as MLK was, was he more important to the struggles of Black Americans than George Washington Carver, W.E.B. Dubois, Malcolm X, Shirley Chisolm, Rosa Parks, ... and the list goes on. Was MLK more important to this nation than Abraham Lincoln? Clara Barton? Thomas Jefferson? Franklin Roosevelt? Thomas Edison? And yet, Carver, Dubois, Barton, Jefferson, and Lincoln share one day together on which we honor them... the inanely titled "Great Americans Day", which replaced "President's Day" -- which had once been 2 dates in February -- a separate date for Lincoln and one for George Washington. So instead of focusing on the inequalities still faced by Black Americans, we have distilled your contributions into 1 man -- Martin Luther King, Jr., who like Roosevelt and Edison and Chisolm was a Great American, so why then the separate holiday? Given the demographic changes and the speed at which politicians race to be the first to pander... can a Cesar Chavez day be far behind?

And some predictions...

Eagles will win easily -- by no fewer than 2 touchdowns.

Steelers by lucky 13.

If the field is slick in Foxboro, the Pats by a fieldgoal. Otherwise, the Colts by 4.

Is there a team more overrated the Falcons? A player more overrated than Michael Vick (who looks and plays like Kordell Stewart with a couple of juke moves)? And yet I think Mike Martz will lose this game for the Rams. For if Belicheck is like an extra field goals for the Pats, then Martz is the equivalent of an 80 yard interception return for a TD against you. Falcons by 3.

No matter how hungry you are...

2005-01-13T21:03:00.000-05:00

Do not eat iPod Shuffle

One of the many magnificient aspects of Ireland that I enjoyed when I went there in the fall of 2003 was the lack of American-style lawyering. I first noticed this wonderful fact about the Irish realm approximately two feet from the edge of Dun Aenghus, a Celtic fort precariously positioned 300 feet above the Atlantic Ocean on the largest of the Aran Islands, Inishmore, as my knees began to shake uncontrollably. I immediately dropped to my knees and slowly inched my way forward earthworm-style, peering over the cliff and taking in the beauty of the Atlantic below, stealing one breath every 60 seconds. Aside from the occasional gulp of oxygen and camera shot, necessary evidence of my incredible bravery, I stayed motionless and imagined the people who awoke to this sight each morning, some 2,000 years ago. It is an experience I will never forget.

Ireland as the country without million dollar tort suits occurred to me again as I took in the Cliffs of Moher seaside and caught glimpses of people watching us from O'Brien's Tower above. A thought reinforced when our captain mentioned that the Cliffs of Moher was Western Ireland's #1 attraction for tourists and people looking to kill themselves.

In America, we all know that the closest the government would allow us to the edge of the cliffs of Dun Aenghus or of the Cliffs of Moher is approximately 10 feet, obstructed by some ugly-a$$, chain-linked, barbed-wired-topped fence. Sure, we could have gone back to the "welcome center" and watched pictures of the cliffs and envied the camera crew that the government had hired to take those shots, but instead of imaging the lives of the Celts who walked the land at the time of Christ, we would be imaging what it would be like to actually peek over the edge. What sort of experience would that be, we would wonder. An inspirational day, a perfect snapshot replaced by an utterly disposable memory.

American lawyers -- make our lives safe ... and dull.

Well -- some times lawyers can make our lives fun... but only if we are laughing at them for the things that they force us to say.

As many of you may have heard, Apple released yet another amazing iPod product -- the iPod Shuffle. I strongly encourage you to go to this site and read about yet another fantastic offering from Mr. Jobs. And while you are looking at this iPod Shuffle page, please read the small print just below and after the "Plug-and-Playlists" paragraph.

The first point in small print notes that music capacity is based on 4 minutes per song and 128 Kbps AAC encoding. That's a nice thing to know. If they said "120 songs" and that estimate was based on 1 minute songs, I think I'd want to know about that.

But then, and please make sure you are in a nice comfortable and sturdy chair for this, read the 2nd note in small print...

What the #%%&$#%&$???

Yes. You read that right. "Do not eat iPod shuffle".

How unbelievably insane is it that some lawyer either advising Apple or working for Apple felt compelled to instruct the marketing department to include this disclaimer.

I am going to repeat it again, because I just can't say it enough...

DO NOT EAT IPOD SHUFFLE

Okay, maybe I can fathom this disclaimer if the iPod Shuffle was a Microsoft product, but even then...

Are people really this colossally f'ing stupid that WITHOUT THIS DISCLAIMER they might, in fact, pay $99 for what they mistakenly believe is a Japanese delicacy???

DO NOT EAT IPOD SHUFFLE

I think we can all sleep well at night knowing that American lawyers while preventing us (protecting us?) from experiencing once-in-a-lifetime sensations and reflections, will make damn sure that not one incredibly stupid M F'er will eat an iPod Shuffle.

And aren't we all the better for that?!?

Sigh

Stupid Tuesday

2005-01-11T21:30:00.000-05:00

Because try as they may, some people are just too stupid to change

Scientifically challenged...

If a not-so-bright friend asks you what the periodic table is, and you respond, "I think it's the way that women keep track of their menstruation cycle."... well, you are a wee-bit of a dummy. If, on the other hand, you believe that clouds are created by smoke stacks, then you are a dummy-in-full-bloom.

Green Egg in Your Face and Spam

Three years, a bunch of student loans, and an MBA later, I can happily report that I graduated in December from Katz School of Business. Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on one's perspective, I still receive e-mails forwarded from my Katz account to my Verizon e-mail account.

The first e-mail I and every Katz student with an active e-mail account received today originated from an Asian student. Now, you might think me a bigot and/or Sherlock Holmes, because the e-mail sender's name was Ping Phu. But I didn't notice that part until after I had read the e-mail. No, it was this classic opening line that led me to this conclusion "I also have a VERY GOOD condition 'Creating Business Advantage in the Information Age', asking for $40." Now, my little Asian buddy, Ping, has either grossly underestimated the value of a talking textbook or he learned how to speak English by watching The Simple Life. While it's true that you can't spell "chump" without "Phu", spam + poor English doesn't make Poor Ping Phu ("Triple P") stupid -- actually it makes him typically American.

No, no... the stupid part appeared in two part harmony shortly thereafter.

The first gem whistled into my Inbox at 10:33 this morning from William J. Kooser, who responded from his work account with the following note: "With all due respect, if you're sorry, then stop sending this type of e-mail. I for one don't want a flood of 'books for sale' messages cluttering up my inbox." Klueless Kooser kindly had forwarded his response to not just Triple P but the ENTIRE recipient list of Triple P's e-mail, which, as a reminder, is EVERY Katz student with an active e-mail account.

Now, it is stupid to make the implicit claim that you are too busy to read Triple P's e-mail when you are reading your Katz e-mail AND responding to it at work. It's even dumber to use the expression "cluttering up my inbox", unless one can imagine Mr. William J. Kooser sitting at work proudly trumpetting to a co-worker "I have the tidiest inbox in the entire company" at the very moment that Triple P's e-mail arrives in his inbox, inadvertantly stripping Mr. William J. Kooser of this impressive distinction.

I cannot tell you if Mr. William J. Kooser is Asian, Indian, or European, but I can fairly deduce that Mr. William J. Kooser is self-important and incredibly stupid. Self-important in that Mr. William J. Kooser believes that he is so ridiculously busy that he does not have the 1 second it takes to delete a "book for sale" e-mail from his meticulous Inbox but he does have the 60 seconds it takes to compose an e-mail in response to Triple P. Moreover, self-important in that Mr. William J. Kooser believed that I and every other Katz student (or former students) actually cared to hear about his well-maintained Inbox.

This is also what makes Mr. William J. Kooser incredibly stupid. Someone has just, in your mind, spammed you and hundreds of other people -- made you and they read something you and they didn't want to. Yet your response is not to send an e-mail to Triple P and the IT Administrator for Katz. Instead, you send a spam reply e-mail to EVERY person who was already spammed by Triple P, making you, Mr. William J. Kooser, Double Dumba$$.

The second moronic missive arrived 2 hours later. mpsattler thought it important to follow up on Double Dumba$$' e-mail by adding, "Well put! I think there is a Katz intranet site for stuff like this."

If sending out spam in response to spam makes you an imbecile, then I think sending out spam praising spam that rails against spam makes you the Chucklehead of the Week.

Paper Route Speeding Tickets

2005-01-10T23:48:00.000-05:00

mall money

Back in the days of yore, when you couldn't work for the $3.35/hr. minimum wage at the local outlet until you were 16, entrepreneurial 14 year-olds tossed newspapers for a living. For a year this newsboy spirit coursed through my veins, expiring, coincidentally, about the time my parents informed me that they would no longer help me deliver said newspapers.

What I remember most about those glorious times (and this I say facetiously... though I guess it could have been worse, I could have worked with the "Blue Shadow" as a rent-a-cop or toiled at McDonald's for all of 4 hours) are "collection days".

If one had run his route efficiently, one would collect for the papers at the beginning of every month. Being like most route runners -- which is to say, "inefficient" --, however, I collected from a few patrons at a time, whenever I needed cash to go to the mall.

I thought of this as I discussed my numerous brushes with the law with my grandparents this Sunday -- two speeding tickets (only one of which I was found guilty of), a few parking tickets, a "failing to obey speed traffic devices" (which is what cool cops give speeders), driving with an expired registration (thank you Farmer's Insurance, you incompetent b*stards), and, oh yes, the time my car was impounded less than 2 blocks from my house -- but only after no fewer than 3 police cars and 5 police officers surrounded my car... in Sewickley... and again, 2 blocks from my house.

I thought of those exciting times as a Reading Eagle news carrier because it occurred to me that municipalities are really no different than those 14 year-old paperboys -- than me. Police enforcement is not uniform. No, police seem to only start writing tickets whenever municipalities need mall money.

And while I did speed, just as my customers did receive the paper, the difference is that I treated my customers courteously when I asked for the money they owed. When is the last time a local cop (as compared to a state police officer, who clearly has had training on acting professional) acted with compassion or with a sense of humor toward you? I know some of the people who have become cops in the area in which I grew up and these guys were delinquent, loser jacka$$es. Most became cops because of how much time they spent in the proximity of cops... typically in holding cells... and, oh what fun, I'm sure they thought/think, it would be to harass other people under the color of the law. In short, the local yokel police academy became the fraternity house for the G.E.D. crowd.

At times I become frustrated with this 14 year-old-like behavior... particularly as a cop writes me out a $50 ticket for parking in front of my house on the designated street cleaning morning, whereas he is no where to be found at the time someone's stealing a bike out of your neighbor's yard. (Okay, so that happened on Cops and not in Sewickley, still...) Fortunately, I remember the advice a police captain gave to my roommates and me without an ounce of irony in his voice nor with a drop of sarcasm on his lips after someone tried to break into our college apartment and after we waited 3 hours for the cops to arrive --

"The next time this happens, don't call the police. Just walk up the street to Mister Donuts. You should be able to get a cop there right away who can help you. Otherwise you'll be waiting for hours again."

Ah yes, mall money well spent.

Sunday Odds and Ends

2005-01-09T10:35:00.000-05:00

Tried and true? expressions

When people ask me if I participated in any student groups during my college years, I typically tell them that I was the head of the student chapter of P.E.T.A. ("People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals" ... and not the humorously titled group "People Eating Tasty Animals"), but that a bunch of radical members (which is redundant) kicked me out after I said regarding one of my action proposals that it would allow us to "kill two birds with one stone".

As far as expressions go, this one is particularly violent and seemingly insane. I'm assuming that the only time that people spoke literally about "killing two birds with one stone" occurred during our "hunting and gathering" stage -- which ended some 10,000 years ago.

And while I find the expression at once useful and barbaric, I'm not prepared to sponsor a contest on finding a suitable alternative because then the expression may have to be changed to killing two loons with one stone.

Don Rumsfeld

Even Republican Senators are hammering this guy. Over the past several months, he's become a lot like NBC, in that neither has Friends.

Playoff Football

Perhaps it is because he's from Canonsburg, where I work. Or maybe it's because unlike some coaches in the NFL, he's neither an obnoxious, arrogant fool nor an imbecile. Whatever the reason, I was rooting for Marty's Chargers yesterday and am disappointed that he will yet again have to answer questions about his playoff record.

And I know my sister is probably happy that the Steelers will likely now face the Jets (and not San Diego) next week, but I was not afraid of either team. If the Steelers do not beat themselves (which can happen -- though I don't think this year), then I cannot see any team beating them. They are playing incredible team football like New England has these past few years, and I think a combination of hunger and talent is what makes them a better team than the Patriots this season. So I don't care who they play. Bring 'em on.

Quick note on my prediction to Patriots, Colts, Jets, and Eagles fans

So far in 2005 I have made one football prediction -- which was that Pitt would beat Utah by 3. Pitt, in fact, LOST by 28.

Texas Hold 'Em

2005-01-07T23:40:00.000-05:00

A New Lesson

Until this evening I had always believed that there was nothing worse in poker than being dealt bad cards all night long.

Now I know better.

In fact, there is one thing worse. It is being consistently dealt the 2nd best hand at the table.

Maybe it says something about how I would like to die... and I know I'm going to die. We all do. But I would prefer a long and slow death... some time when I'm in my 90s or 100s. I would be all the more excited if my obituary indicated that I died of "natural causes". Though I'm not quite sure what that means.

I know we all die technically because of a loss of blood to the brain. Or at least that's what I vaguely recall an answer to the Genus I edition (the original) of Trivial Pursuit saying. But what I think they are saying is that "he/she was just old." I'm fairly certain that natural causes is a heart attack or a stroke. But yet if you have a heart attack or a stroke when you are in your 40s or 50s or 60s... even your 70s... then it's a heart attack or stroke that killed you.

At what age exactly does your life become so meaningless that absent getting hit by a semi crossing the road or murdered that no matter what kills you, it's classified as "natural causes"?

I often think about that, oddly enough, when I strolling through the produce center of my local Giant Eagle and pass the "organic" food section.

Of course, I know they mean the use of "organic" chemicals and not that my "non-organic" grapes are inorganic.

But consider that for a moment... people are paying more $ for food that is cultivated not the way it is now, but the way people in the 60s grew vegetables and fruits... the 1760s! (I'm just waiting for the "organic" band-aids... which will just be a box of leeches.)

At some point you either have to start dashing out in front of tractor trailers on the Interstate or you are doomed to die of natural causes. But somehow it is seen to be more sophisticated, smarter even, to eat carrots that aren't grown with modern scientific advances but in a way that was used when your 105 year old grandmother was born.

So, in summary, my grandfather, who turns 90 in February, should take solace in the fact that while we think his life is meaningless, the way he grew tomatoes is critically important.

If my life in any way resembles my card playing tonight, however, none of this will matter. As I won't live to be my grandfather's ripe old age. I won't die of natural causes. I will die a quick and painless death... just short of a full house.

Banana Milkshakes

2005-01-06T22:31:00.000-05:00

Mmmmmmmmmmm...

First you start with the ice cream. Good ice cream is key. If you error in the ice cream selection -- for example by buying something like this (which to my taste buds -- and maybe it's just me -- is made by pouring milk in an ice cube tray and freezing it) then you might as well have just gone to your local McDonald's and purchased one of their imitation shakes.

Then you thinly slice a whole banana into the blender. If your banana doesn't have banana freckles (brown ripe dots), then again please visit MickeyD's.

Finally, you pour just enough milk in so that it just reaches the top of your ice cream. Then hit shake. Count to 5 using Mississippis, then let it settle for a second, then shake again... 3 Mississippis. (If you want a thicker shake, count using Maines. If you would a thinner shake, then drink a class of milk you pansy.)

In a little under 2 minutes (or 120 Mississippis), you have a drink that is wickedly perfect.

Note -- if you can't make a banana milkshake, then the next best thing?

The second time I was in Calgary on business, in July 2001, coincided with the Stampede. I would leave the offices of my sister company (at the time) around 6 at night and make my way back to my hotel amidst a sea of drunken wannabe cowboys -- it was like a scene out of a bad rodeo movie. But apparently there were tons of exciting things to do (or so everyone in Calgary and back in Pittsburgh assured me). So when I returned home and was asked what the best thing about that part of my trip (I then rented a car and drove from Calgary to Kamloops through the Canadian Rockies and then on to Vancouver -- and then a day trip to Seattle to see the Mariners and Pike Place Market... THAT ENTIRE PART WAS AWESOME)... but the best part of my time in Calgary was the next best thing to a banana milkshake... banana pancakes for breakfast.

Thank God for Vices

2005-01-05T22:44:00.000-05:00

a short shoutout to all that's morally repugnant...

If people didn't smoke, think how much more non-smokers would have to pay in taxes. Moreover, if people didn't smoke what would redneck farmers in North Carolina grow as crops? And kids would be forced to live in a world without Joe Camel and Joe Chemo.

Of course, it's equally good that smoking's siamese twin -- excessive drinking is permissible. Without it there would be a lot of ugly men and women who wouldn't have had sex otherwise.

I thank God for pornography. Sure, I was that 16 year-old kid who spent several weeks during the wee hours fruitlessly trying to tune in Channel 59, naively believing that persistence and prayer would dissolve the semi-psychedelic big black bar down the center of my tv that taunted, teased, frustrated, and ultimately shielded me from the beauty of copulation in celluloid. But that's not why I'm thankful for skin flicks. No, I give alms for adult films because exactly what else would dumb girls with implants do for a living? I mean, David Hasselhoff can only produce so many shows.

Without drugs there would not have been a Scooby Dooby Doo or a Puff the Magic Dragon or an H.R. Puff 'n Stuff.

Without murder, no one would know who Kato Kaelin is or have witnessed the wonder that is Fred Goldman's handle bar mustache.

Oh wait, maybe vices aren't all they are cracked up to be. Then again, if given the choice between having to engage in actual vice or being forced to sit and watch one hour of The Swan 1/2/3 or Who's Your Daddy on Fox, I'm thinkin' that my new catch phrase would be "you can't spell 'porn' without 'ron'"

Pretentious

2005-01-04T22:56:00.000-05:00

Maintaining perspective...

J.Lo -- I mean "Jennifer" -- who asked recently that people quit calling her "J.Lo" (okay, I promise, that's the last time I will call her that. I do, however, reserve the right to call her "ho" and/or "serial spouse".) J.Ho -- AHHHHH... I mean, Jenny from the Block...ack.... Jennifer Lopez said, "I'm not J.Lo, she's not a real person."

Fascinating. But not as deliciously inane as "I was going to call [my] album 'Call Me Jennifer' because that would be my way of saying goodbye to the whole J.Lo [she said that, not me!] thing. But 'Rebirth' is perfect because it means so much more."

I was going to add her comments to the last piece as a way of indicating how they showed her lack of intelligence (i.e. her stupidity). But "Pretentious" is perfect because it means so much more.

People May Be Strange

2005-01-04T22:39:00.000-05:00

but a whole lot more are just plain stupid...

I know it's a new year and I'm supposed to be optimistic and positive or some garbage like that, but stupid people ruin that for me. As hard as I try to avoid dumb people, they are too damn stupid to use condoms so they are all over the damn place -- like panhandlers on Forbes Avenue in Oakland. So instead of avoid them, every Tuesday I will be pointing them out and the dumb things they do. Do I think that this will make them any less idiotic? No, but if you can't beat them, try to humilate the daft bastr&ds.

Without further ado

So you haven't read "The Piece of String" by Guy de Maupassant or "The Bet" by Anton Chekhov because French and Russian existentialists aren't your thing, this does not make you stupid. Naming your auto body shop after a painter who gave the world this and this, marks you as a complete and utter moron.

When someone asks you what Carbon-14 dating is, you respond "some sort of kinky matchmaking website for science nerds" -- okay, that makes you a little dumb -- but still you are not half as stupid as the twenty or thirty people who I had to pass in the right lane on my way back from Reading on the turnpike over Christmas -- even though there wasn't another car in the right lane for at least a quarter of a mile. Are the signs that say "Keep Right. Pass Left. It's the Law" somehow too confusing? Of course, even they apparently are not 1/10 as dumb as the governor/Congressmen who have asked that these signs be posted on the turnpike at a tune of $675 each.

So when KDKA descended on Pitt's campus in the early 1990s and interviewed you and asked you when Columbus discovered America, and you said in your perfect Jersey girl accent "I ain't no history major" or your dumb-as-doornails Lennie voice "1944?"... well, you are unbelievably stupid. But if you didn't know that it was 1492 (the same year that Moors were driven out of Spain) -- that doesn't make you dumb. If you didn't know until just thirty seconds ago when you found the Moors link that the Jews were driven out of Spain in 1492, then you are the exact opposite of dumb... you are freaking brilliant despite the fact that you find it remarkable that none of your history teachers or professors ever mentioned the fact that Spain kicked the Jews out before the Muslims. Now that I think of it, perhaps the seed to Middle East peace is to pit the Jews and the Muslims (who seem to be waging a war over incidents that started before Jesus was born) against their old enemy -- the Spaniards.

If you memerized Pi in high school, that doesn't make you an imbecile but it does indicate that you are one seriously screwed up dude. Still, I'll take 10 of you -- actually 10 of you in a drunken stupor -- over the jacka$$ who came up with the public service announcement with Stevie Wonder in which Stevie says that he would rather drive than let someone who has had too much to drink drive. Now, you don't have to be a math wizard to figure these odds out... drunk guy with blurry vision sees 3 roads, only 1 is right... blind guy with NO VISION see 0 roads, and 0 are right... who would you rather let drive?

One of the best things about looking up sites to link to are the things you learn. How about this site again. "Cliff Notes -- The Fastest Way to Learn". The makers of this site aren't clods but they do have the biggest set of balls on the planet. The fastest way to LEARN? Yes, all of the students who used Cliff Notes in high school were always looking for the quickest way to LEARN something. If the audacious creators of this site were honest, the moniker would read "Cliff Notes -- When You Are Looking For Shortcuts and Learning Gives You Headaches" or perhaps most accurately "Cliff Notes -- For People Who Hate to Read".

Worse than a dumba$$ is a lazy dumba$$. The number of companies on the web offering college term papers is staggering. My personal favorite though is Paper Experts, Inc. who claim "At The Paper Experts Inc. we only sell superior quality non-plagiarized papers." Yes, because if I'm looking to you to do my work for me, I demand that you not be as lazy as I and insist that you not plagarize from someone else and produce top quality work. Perhaps more disturbing is the fact that you can purchase 175 papers on Ethics. The clear winner of the group being "6. 874 The Importance of Ethics". Maybe our good friends at the Paper Experts can team up with Cliff Notes and rebrand their site -- "Paper Experts -- The Fastest Way to Write".

Shakespeare said in Henry VI "kill all the lawyers"... I think only because "stupid people" are just too much fun to not have around.

Related/Unrelated closing note....

For a wonderful look at additional idiots in this world, please check out the various articles on Shaun Alexander, hot swim suitmodels, and Stone Phillips (okay, there is no article on Stone Phillips yet there... but I'm sure one of these days that waste of humanity will be cleverly profiled there. I can only hope).... at a Madman's website.

And an interesting blog that I came across today in the op-ed section of the WSJ of all places...

The Children's Blizzard

2005-01-03T19:37:00.000-05:00

Booknotes

When I was a boy 0f 5, dinosaurs, sharks, snakes, and anything featured on In Search Of, especially killer bees and Bigfoot, fascinated me. This fascination together with the allure of the hypnotic hum of a nostalgic love cemented an affinity for the written word. And while I lived nowhere near the desert southwest, nor had any plans to ever visit, I found it useful to remember that red touching yellow meant trouble. And I found myself captivated by the shark that looked like an anvil had lodged itself in its misshapened head.

As a boy of 34, my tastes have changed. Instead of T-Rexes and makos, biographies of Hamilton, Truman, Adams, Churchill, Lincoln, and Edna St. Vincent Millay (to name but a few) crowd several bookcases throughout my house. Unfortunately, with rare exception, the authors of these tomes all seem to have graduated from Tolstoy University, in which aspiring historians are instructed to write no fewer than 900 pages of text about their subjects. And while Hamilton deserves all 731 pages of his 10 font treatment by Chernow, I'm not sure W.E.B. Dubois' life -- as intriguing and controversial as it may have been -- is worth 751. Needless to say, my eyes have seen the last pages of very few of these books.

In fairness, as I cannot lay the blame entirely at the feet of these writers, I have a habit of reading multiple books at once. It's not uncommon to find four books patiently waiting their turn in the nightly rotation on my nightstand. And this lends itself further to an "incomplete" reading. This may explain why I'm 293 pages into 9/11 Commission Report, 117 into Chernow's "Alexander Hamilton", 7 into "The Writings of Alexander Hamilton", and 147 into Stefan Fatsis' entertaining "Word Freak: Heartbreak, Triumph, Genius, and Obsession in the World of Competitive Scrabble Players". If that weren't bad enough, "E=MC^2: A Biography of the World's Most Famous Equation" claims top honors as "bathroom reading", having taken over for Sedaris' "Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim", which I managed to read over about 120 "morning readings".

It is a rare book of non-fiction that captures my attention to completion... except if it is a book about an ill-fated Everest climb, or an ill-fated whitewater expedition in Tibet by a former high school classmate of Bill Gates, or anything by Erik Larson.

I have just found and finished another in this line of enchanting, beautifully-written tragic tales -- "The Children's Blizzard" by David Laskin.

Imagine yourself as a 12 year-old on the Great Plains in the waning years of the 19th century enduring a month of snow and temperatures below 20F. Then on the morning of January 12th, 1888 a wonderful reprieve... a day of sun, clear skies, and temperatures in the 40s. Like many, you may have gambolled off to your one room schoolhouse a half of a mile from your family's sod house... maybe without mittens or thick wool socks -- the protections of winter's clothing.

What would you be thinking when during the lunchtime recess, a black line appeared on the horizon and an eery calm enveloped you?

For most, there wasn't time to think as the storm like no other struck, bringing with it plummeting temperatures, gale force winds, and a blizzard that made it difficult for you to see your hand in front of your face.

This is a tale of immigrants fighting to farm an inhospitable and unforgiving land. It is a story of the fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, and teachers who found a way to survive that 12th day of January 1888. But it is also the story of over 100 children and 150-350 adults who did not.

It is a snapshot of America -- (then and now) -- the heroism of its citizens and the hubris of government bureaucrats and officials.

Sunday Sports Emporium

2005-01-02T18:42:00.000-05:00

A perfect marriage of sport and community

My former co-worker, still-friend, and past/present/future rah-rah coach (Beth) and I have (I was going to say "debated", but that would imply that there is a credible argument on the other side... so I instead will say...) "playfully mused about" the status of cheerleading -- activity or sport.

As the wise financial genius behind minor league baseball (Eric) has commented, "if cheerleading is a sport, then what was their win-loss record last year?" Consider that archery... which certainly is no more than an activity... is included in the Olympics as a "sport", but only the deluded believe that cheerleading should be a medal event.

Come on, the only reason that cheerleading exists is to give men hot women to look at when the football game becomes boring. If cheerleading is a sport, then there are sports venue all over this city. I prefer to think of them (though I do not frequent them... as Bill, Mike, and Jr. can attest to) as strip clubs. Some prefer to think of them as "gentlemen's clubs", though few gentlement can be found in them. But if cheerleading is a sport, then millions of husbands can take a fistful of dollars and tell their wives that they are going to a sporting event -- where the only equipment required is a pastie.

But I'm not here to continue this discussion because, quite frankly, CHEERLEADING IS A FREAKIN' ACTIVITY! No, I'm here to talk about something (I'm not even sure it's an activity) more interesting.... platform tennis in Sewickley.

The activity?/game?/sport?

Every day that I jog, I pass Sewickley Academy, which sits expensively (Tuition is $16,750/yr. for a high schooler, but only a mere $10,525 for pre-kindergarten -- morning only) on my left as I make my way down Beaver Street. But as tempting as it is to look at a building that is just sucking money out of people's trust funds, I find myself mesmerized by the venue on the other side of Beaver, where individuals who yearn to be part of the Polar Bear Club but who either have a fear of water or are not completely insane, partake in that unique October through March outdoor (activity?/game?/sport?) known as plaftorm tennis.

And what exactly is platform tennis, you may wonder. The best description that I can come up with is... it's the wallyball version of tennis, except played with raquetball paddles by people without a lot of range.

The first time I ran past the court and saw people playing, I thought it was an activity that only Vince McMahon could have created. The XFL for tennis. It was as if several tennis players had become incredibly angry at each other and challenged one another to a "steel cage match" but instead of wrestling, they decided to play each other in tennis.

Once I looked past the unique venue, it occurred to me on that "lovely" December 2003 day that there were snow flurries floating down around me like confetti and as hard as it tried, the mercury in the thermometer couldn't get past 20F.

Now correct me if I'm wrong, but the only activities/games/sports (skiing, hockey, luge) purposely played outdoors on the winter solstice involve either snow or ice... or some combination thereof. I mean, you don't see people forming outdoor variations of shuffleboard or horseshoes in the Northeast to play in December, do you? Of course not because that would be fairly insane (note: I reserve the use of the phrase "completely insane" for people who jump into 45 degree water on a 20 degree day or who voted for Al Sharpton).

So inevitably one asks, "what sort of community would create a venue for this activity/game/sport?"

A place I call home

As those who know me know, I love Sewickley. I love the fact that in most communities I would be considered a middle to upper-middle class member. In Sewickley, I often feel as if I have Section 8 housing. In most communities, I think people would say that my home is a Red Monopoly property. In Sewickley, I live on Oriental Ave. Mind you, this is a community where I watch parents pull up in their BMW SUVs across the street from my house and drop off their middle schoolers. And their precious 12 year-olds aren't carrying baseball mitts or backpacks filled with books as people in my middle school did. No, these kids are toting laptops (no lie!) and lacrosse sticks.

There is a Land Rover dealership in town (or as Sewickley residents refer to it... "the village"). Residents ostracized the "lower-class" Audi/BMW/Porsche dealer to "the river side" of Rt. 65 in Sewickley.

The two gas stations located in town do not advertise their prices. As the saying goes "if you have to ask how much, it's too expensive for you."

Don't misunderstand. There are many things to love about Sewickley... the property values (if you are a homeowner), the schools (if you have kids), and the village (if you want to be a minute's walk from a morning bagel at Bruegger's -- though I much prefer Einstein's -- or a cup of joe -- aka a "no foam, soy latte" -- at Starbucks)... to name just a few. But while I love Sewickley, there can be no more perfect a location for the activity?... the game?... the sport?.... known as platform tennis.

Saturday Rants and Ramblings

2005-01-01T09:05:00.000-05:00

Freely elected?

First a note... Sorry for the disappearing act, but I vowed not to post until the actual winner of the Ukrainian election took office. Truth be told, my vow was not to post until the actual winner/winner of Washington's governor race was put into office, but I fear we may never know the answer to that. We have heard much lately about making sure that "every vote is counted", but before we get there, isn't it more important to ensure that every vote cast is legitimately cast? As John Fund persuasively argues in his book "Stealing Elections", recent efforts (such as the Motor Voter law) aimed at making registration easier have also increased the likelihood of voter fraud. So while we rightly consider ways to modernize our polling places to ensure that your vote is counted, why are we not equally (if not more) steadfast in our desire to ensure that your vote should be counted?

New meaning for "freeze frame"

I love television. More to the point I love tvs, particularly mine (when it isn't being serviced). But while looking at dishwashers in Best Buy before Christmas, I saw perhaps the most frightening "innovation" since the 8 track tape player. I'm not sure what LG was thinking in creating this, but I think it's the dumbest idea I have seen or heard since Carl Pavano dumped Alyssa Milano. And hey, this is coming from a person who at one point had a tv in his kitchen and used it regularly while he washed dishes. This is different though as this would require me to stare at my refrigerator for goodness sake. And it's one thing to pay $70-$100 for a 13" color tv for the kitchen. It's quite another to spend an extra $2000 over the cost of a normal refrigerator to get a 13" LCD in the middle of your frig.

Give me consistency... and give them death

In the last month I have seen no fewer than 10 supposedly-able-minded individuals explain that the death penalty should be banned because innocent people are put to death and/or because the administration of the death penalty is racially-biased and terribly flawed as a result of poor representation. Let me say first, as a point of integrity, that I think that innocent people are put to death, that there is a socio-economic (and probably racial) bias tied to the system, and that the public defenders who handle some of these cases are not people I would want defending me for a parking ticket violation let alone my very existence.

But the logic of these arguments applies equally well to incarceration. For surely there are innocent people are who are incarcerated and die in jail (either from natural causes or from, what I like to call, "natural prison causes"). There is bias in this part of our justice system as well, and these people are defended by the same incompetent graduates of some non-accredited law school. And yet not once do you hear these individuals call for the abolishment of prisons. If you are logically consistent, you invariably would have to. Rather than do away with our system of criminal punishment, I think the more logical/sensible approach is to continue to make efforts to improve the process so that people aren't wrongily executed or left to die in prison.

A last look back at 2004 (until further notice)

Here are some of the interesting things I learned in 2004:

* Fighting in Vietnam was somehow less noble and courageous than not (hmmm...?)
* War experience matters -- if you are Republican, this statement is only true for previous elections, and if you are a Democrat, this statement is only true for this past election.
* A mistake and a lie are the same thing.
* That it's important to remember that no matter how tragic an event may seem, it could always have been SO MUCH WORSE.
* There's more subtext to Bill O'Reilly's "Who's Looking Out For You?" than I gave him credit for.
* While an insanity defense is popular for murder defendants, "I'm gay" may be the new defense for the corrupt.

No resolutions just a prediction for 2005

* At the risk of being called a liar (as opposed to hopelessly optimistic and/or stupid) tomorrow, I predict that Pitt will win the Fiesta Bowl by 3 tonight.

Happy New Year All!

WWWW: Wacky World Wide Web

2004-12-03T23:23:00.000-05:00

What the....

I stumbled onto this site and boy am I glad I did. How wonderful is it to know that for the week ending November 8th (election week), that after "election results" (1st) and "exit polls" (2nd), voting America apparently was most interested in Tara Reid? The only way I can think to explain this is that Sergei Fedorov is a huge Google user.

What else, you ask?

We cared more about Linux in October than we did Angelina Jolie. That's just wrong!

Tupac was the 4th most popular male celebrity in October. Quite a feat for a DEAD man.

Dogs sneaked out a narrow victory over DRAGONS for most popular animal searches.

John Kerry was 1 spot ahead of President Bush in the hearts and fingertips of Google users. Of course, Bush voters can take heart in the fact that Ashlee Simpson was more popular than either. Though not even Ashlee could take down Camilo Mejia (who I'm "embarrassed" to admit I never heard of until I clicked on the link).

As dumb as the Europeans may think we are, it was the UK (4th), Canada (2nd), Netherlands (1st), Sweden (4th) and Brazil (6th) and not US who had Britney Spears on their minds. Note, the Germans (4th) and Australians (3rd) showed more "discriminating" taste by ignoring Britney in favor of Christina Aguilera and Hillary Duff respectively.

Showing the world that it is important to put things in their proper perspective and self-important stereotypes be damned... the #1 topic that most French people were interested in? France.

Stereotypes be damned "numero due"... popping in at #7 of the most popular search topics in Italy? "last minute".

And finally...

Russian tennis star and beauty, Maria Sharapova, was the #2 object of desire among Korean surfers, but she couldn't crack the top ten in her native land -- losing out to such interesting topics such as "japanese stock trading" (5th), instant motor insurance quote (7th) and my personal favorite -- plastic windows (9th). Wow, those Russians sure know how to have fun.

2004-12-02T20:56:00.000-05:00

Christmas Spirit

Otto Immanuel Absolute Certainty Principle

2004-12-02T20:45:00.000-05:00

Damn dog

First the principle... Whenever you desire Otto to walk at speed s, Otto will with absolute certainty walk with speed 1/s.

Then a constant... Otto's normal full-block walk time = 13 minutes 27 seconds. He sniffs every other blade of grass. Lifts his leg and marks his spot on every third tree, fire hydrant, or unfortunately-placed tricycle. Does a little 2-legged, hoppin'-down-the-street, so-glad-to-see-you dance when other dogs are around. Ears go up and curious expression shoots across his snout when squirrels scamper within his field of vision. The important point here... the normal full-block walk takes us 13 minutes and 27 seconds on average.

And now the proof... In June of this year I had the pleasure of being 3-legged. An ill-advised game of basketball begat a ruptured Achilles tendon, which necessitated surgery that meant no pressure whatsoever on my left leg for 4 weeks. And joy to me, crutches became my constant companion.

Now, have you ever walked around on crutches with only one good leg? The key, as you may recall, is BALANCE. What precipitates balance? Well, of course, a nice, steady and slow speed.

Blades of grass Otto sniffed during my time of pain? Try 1 blade of grass every half block. And how often did he lift his leg? I can't recall if he ever did. He just looked back at me, smirked and said, "this is going to be fun. I'm just going to hold it until the dog walker comes at lunch. Right now I think I want to take you for a little jog." And squirrels were no longer objects of curiosity but rather objects we MUST chase. I've never dog-sledded before, but I think I truly understand the principle now.

Flash forward. Tonight. 30 degrees outside. Damn cold. And yes, damn dog strikes again. I cut his walk in half and it still took us nearly 17 minutes to finish. Let's retrace our steps as I think I missed a blade of grass a few hundred yards back. Let's make sure that every object an inch or more above the surface of the neighborhood lawns experiences the wonder of my doggy spritz.

And while one could argue that I should have dressed more appropriately for the temperature, I would first point out that this is normally less than a 10 minute walk (I had planned on cutting the walk in half from the moment I stepped out onto my front porch) and that if I had dressed more warmly that damn dog would have finished the loop in record time. I know this because of the Otto Immanuel Absolute Certainty Principle.

Additional proof... It never fails that when interesting and attractive females approach us and want to pet and talk to him, he remembers that he has an urgent meeting somewhere as far away from these women as he can get.

But if an octagenarian with questionable body hygiene crosses our path, that damn dog cannot be moved, perhaps because of the malodorous mixture of moth balls, 1930's vintage (read: cheap) cologne or perfume, and medicinal/rubbing alcohol/"straight-from-the hospital" smell, fools Otto's olfactory senses into believing that these people are walking doggy biscuits. Yes, for Grandpa or Grandma Milkbone, he makes his 20 pounds miraculously seem like 200.

Moreover... If I'm running late for work, Otto decides that this particular day is a perfect one for him to explore his interest in botany. But if it's beautiful outside and a wonderful day for a walk, Otto does his Carl Lewis impersonation.

The conclusion... It is with absolute certainty that I know that damn dog will walk at a speed perfectly inversely proportional to the speed at which I want him to. Fortunately for him, what I also know with absolute certainty is that I love that damn dog and wouldn't trade him for the world.

Belated But Still Random Thoughts

2004-11-30T21:37:00.000-05:00

An edo to dyslexia

* 3 hrs. 43 minutes. Wyomissing to Sewickley. From my parents driveway to my front step. It's an unofficial personal best and something that I'm sadly somewhat proud of. To put this in the proper context... 3 hrs and 43 minutes is exactly equal to the amount of time I feel I've lost after watching 1 episode of the Golden Girls or the approximate time it takes me to get through 1 3-minute John Tesh ballad.

* Yesterday marked the beginning of deer season... or buck season... or killing bucks with a firearm season. Or as I prefer to think of it... Halloween for Men, as it is the one time during the year that adult males have permission (in fact, Dick's and Dunham Sports encourages you) to dress up in funny costumes and march around in the cold autumn air. For the record I have nothing against people spending hours in the woods tracking defenseless animals, shooting said creatures with a semi-automatic weapon, and then calling it a "sport". I just think it's foolishness. No, I think hunting is worthwhile as we have way too many deer. But I think it's the height of stupidity to hunt in the woods with a rifle when a more intelligent hunter would simply fasten the seat belt of his gaudy Hummer and drive up and down any major interstate. The success rate for the intelligent hunter would be far greater and you get the additional benefit of partially tenderizing your venison.

* Intelligent hunting tip of the day: Deer never cross near the signs with their pictures on it.

* Another "exciting" Meet the Press weekend -- as the Rev. Al Charlatan appeared alongside the Jerry "blame the gays for 9/11" Falwell for a show on morality. At first I was certain that Tim Russert was talking to the two most recent people voted off that lamentable NBC reality show "Biggest Loser" or perhaps a show on shameless self-promotion. But no, sadly it was not.

* Am I missing the Christmas spirit if I excitedly read all of the Black Friday ads on Thanksgiving and think only of things that I want to buy for myself? Mind you, I'm not saying that I would ever be so self-absored, but I'm just curious if you think it would be wrong.

* Please just chalk it up to my cynicism, but judging by the pre-holiday blitz shouldn't the song be updated and renamed the "12 WEEKS of Christmas". And while we are at it, perhaps "some chick I'm sleepin' with for now" could replace "my true love".

* I'm sure you have heard someone spout the cliche "don't speak ill of the dead." Just for fun, the next time that you hear someone say that, ask them his opinion of Adolf Hitler.

* After flipping through a television guide this weekend, I am more convinced than ever that Everybody Loves Raymond and the Amazing Race 6 are on CbSI. Likewise, I noticed that if you removed Dateline and any show with "Law & Order" in its title from the proud peacock's lineup, the Weather Channel (as my dad could attest to) could legitimately claim to air more original hours of programming than NBC.

* I am willing to give $20 to the first heterosexual male born after WWII who admits to having voluntarily watched "Murder She Wrote".

* And finally... the best thing about my Thanksgiving... seeing Joey, Lyndsey, Robbie, and Tyler Grace (as well as Melissa and Eric) and an unexpected Firestones' sighting at Target.

Things I am Thankful For

2004-11-24T13:27:00.000-05:00

A pre-Turkey Day reflection

I'm thankful for...

First and foremost, my parents, my sister and her family, my brother and his family, my friends, and Otto, who make every day a day of thanks giving.

The PA Turnpike workers, for going out on strike!

Being able to read on a daily basis such great writing at a Madman's website.

The end of the Atkins craze, as I can eat gobs of mashed potatoes tomorrow without feeling guilty.

Great news that I got the other day from my dear friend, Mary (Zerbe) Firestone.

Being able to see my goddaughter, Tyler Grace Krupa, over the holidays.

A 9-1 start for the Steelers.

That the baseball season is over... approximately 3 months after the Pirates' season ended.

The fact that (to my knowledge) they no longer sell "Big Pouch" bubble gum (gum that was sold like chewing tobacco) or candy cigarettes to kids. What genius thought it would be a good idea to entice kids with a product that would allow them to practice for Skoal and Marlboros? I'm just waiting for the same guy to propose selling Pixie Stix candy dust in cocaine-like vials with toy razor blades.

The Amazing Race 6 and Lost.

Russell Banks' thought-provoking "The Darling".

Apple's incomparable iTunes and iPod.

The fact that I have teams with winning records in at least 2 of my fantasy football leagues.

That Brittney Spears has decided to take a "sabbatical". If she can convince Clay Aiken to do the same, then I would have to vote for her as Time's Person of the Year.

... but mostly for having been reared in a way and having had the divine fortune to surround myself with good influences (my friends) that when I look in the mirror each morning, I see a good man starring back at me.

Reading, Writing, and Arithematic

2004-11-22T23:52:00.000-05:00

Short and sweet -- like Herve Villechez

In the summer of 1998, shortly before I lost my mind and began dating my ex-wife, I met my conservative philosophical idol, George Will. On the 3rd floor of the Tattered Cover Bookstore, a stone's throw from Coors Field in the historic LoDo section of Denver, George signed his latest novel, "Men At Work: The Craft of Baseball". People around Eric and me nodded sympathetically, I having reluctantly conceded I was, in fact, a Pirates fan. George smiled as he recounted that his father had taken him to see his first game at Forbes Field in the "historic" section of Oakland, PA, which is a stone's drop from where I earned my B.A., J.D., and M.B.A.

6+ years later and 4 weeks ago, John Irving informed a full house at the Carnegie Music Hall (which sits just beyond what used to be the left field bleachers of Forbes Field) that for him every beginning literally starts with an ending. First he ponders and then pens the ending of the entire novel, followed shortly thereafter by the endings of each chapter. He explained that it is only with an ending that he has a point and tone to write to.

At 7:30 this evening in a lecture entitled, "H and Me", Russell Banks explained to a sparse crowd at the same Carnegie Music Hall how Ernest Hemingway had shaped his life and the lives of other writers of his generation. He talked of a visit he recently made with fellow writers Frank McCourt and Michael Ondaatje to Hemingway's residence outside of Havana, "La Finca Vigia", which has a museum that is open to the public but whose actual residence is closed to visitors who aren't famed American (or Canadian) writers. On the wall of the bathroom just off of the main sleeping quarters near a scale one finds only at a doctor's office, Hemingway had scrawled a daily record of his weight, which for most of his stay in Cuba fluctuated between 205 and 210 pounds. Shortly before returning to the Florida Keys and less than a year before he would kill himself in Idaho, Hemingway recorded his last measurement on that wall -- a staggering 275 pounds.

3 great writers. Forbes Field. Oakland. A beginning and an ending.

I'm sure there are many lessons to be learned from these amazing talents, but what I took away from these passing encounters is that apparently the first thing that goes when you obtain some acclaim is the ability to sign your name legibly.

Random Thoughts Friday II (on a Saturday)

2004-11-20T09:24:00.000-05:00

Political Cartoons

* "Do as I say, not as I do" Take 1 -- Bill Clinton talked about wanting to bridge political divides and sanctimoniously wondered aloud if he was the only person who liked both President Bush and Senator Kerry. Aside from the obvious fact that Clinton has been and remains a deeply partisan person, it seems odd to make such statements on the opening of your library, a library that contains an alcove dedicated to the "politics of persecution", which ostensibly is about how the Republicans attempted to de-legitimize President Clinton and his administration. Did he say bridge or plank?

* Reportedly 2 alcoves "Things I am ashamed of" and "Things I take responsibility for" were removed from the library after Clinton couldn't think of one thing to include in them.

* "Do as I say, not as I do" Take 2 -- James Carville (after smashing an egg on his face... no, he seriously did) on last Sunday's Meet the Press railed against Republicans for being the anti-gay party and at the same time when asked if President Bush had a mandate said, "The only politician in America I know with a mandate is Jim McGreevey (the gay ex-Governor of NJ)."

* Speaking of mandates and in the department of "your candidate lost" Part I... before the election we heard that if Bush was elected that he would select conservative judges for the Supreme Court. Now we are being told by the same people (aka Kerry voters) that Bush somehow has an obligation not to select conservative judges. So wait, why did I vote in November?

* "Your candidate lost" Part II... The Senate should stick with tradition and name Arlen Specter to the chair of the Judiciary Committee. Pat Toomey lost the PA Republican primary and not because PA is filled with moderate Republicans but because a number of pro-life, conservative Christian Republicans voted and/or supported him (e.g. Sen. Santorum and me). If Specter is not selected, it will sadly confirm that the Republican Party has become like the Democratic Party and now has an abortion litmus test for key party positions.

* Why doesn't Lex Luthor wear a necklace made of kryptonite?

* Why doesn't Superman just have a suit and mask made entirely out of lead?

* I think you would agree that in a contest between a superhero and a super villain, the superhero would be favored by new fewer than 10 points, so how in the heck is there a superhero named "Underdog"?

* I suspect that Michael Powell and the FCC were behind Cartoon Network's decision to kill their behind-the-scenes look at the Tennessee Tuxedo cartoon, which had tentatively been titled "Making (Phineas J.) Whoopie".

A Lawyer in My Foyer

2004-11-18T19:41:00.000-05:00

In honor of Dr. Seuss

So how could I make this site worse?
Why I could tell you my day in verse.

Yesterday I woke up and thought,
"A 2-day CLE, I've got.
Happy, I'm not.
200 lawyers and me,
paying a handsome fee
for 16 hours devoid of glee.
Oh, how awful this will be."

And so I drove downtown
wearing a beautiful frown
to meet counselors of renown
who graduated from Brown
while I hoped to drown.

And I'm sure you know that lawyers are contentious
But did you know that they are equally pretentious?

And while most are greedy,
preying on the sick and needy
the worst of the lot are also seedy.

And there they were...
A room full of the who's who
And all they could do
Was talk about whom to sue.

Bore me they did
Behind a newspaper I hid
as toward sleep I slid

So 2 days have now passed
And I assure you not too fast
Forever they did seem to last...

Those 2 days...
My CLE haze
and glossed-over gaze...

And so I wonder,
my thoughts torn asunder
by cell phones going off like thunder,
was this a blunder?

Should I have explained it in prose?
Made it Christmasy with ho-ho-ho's?
Ahh... who the hell knows.

A Word From Our Sponsor

2004-11-15T20:17:00.000-05:00

and a note

I highly recommend the George Foreman Indoor/Outdoor Grill. There is nothing better than coming home after work when it's 40 degrees outside and grilling salmon, chicken, filet mignon, turkey burgers, etc. in the warmth of your kitchen.

You may have heard that Forbes Magazine has weighed in on the economics driving the hockey lockout and has speculated (I guess I should say "reported") that the losses that the owners have claimed and that an auditing expert found are not as steep as they have suggested. Mind you, this is a magazine (which I admit to subscribing to... but in my defense I did get a 5 year subscription for $12... thank you eBay) that just a month ago greeted me with "Why $45 Oil Is Good For You". So please forgive me if I don't buy their math.

One last plug.... www.abebooks.com If you are going to buy a book, you are crazy to buy it anywhere else.

Symbolically Numb

2004-11-15T13:37:00.000-05:00

Much too soon

Pink ribbons. Red ribbons. The ubiquitous yellow ribbons. Red, white, and blue ribbons.

Be aware of breast cancer and AIDS, support our troops, God Bless the U.S.A., they shout to us from lapels, billboards, and bumpers.

Of course, I am at first left wondering, who isn't aware of breast cancer or AIDS? Who doesn't support our troops? And with the exception of certain atheistic , secular humanist extremists, who doesn't wish for God's blessings for our country?

As I think about it more deeply, however, I move from puzzlement to amusment and annoyance to rabid indifference.

I'm curious how many people who sport the omnipresent "Support Our Troops" stickers have actually donated any of their time, money, or possessions to do just that. Or whether their contribution to supporting our troops was and is to purchase a gaudy sticker that they can affix to their cars and S.U.V.s and proudly display what caring human beings they are without really having to care or do anything of consequence.

Similarly, why did so many people decorate their vehicles with flags after 9/11? The common response I hear is "a show of patriotism".

A show of patriotism?

Joining our military to fight against the terrorists, donating blood for our soldiers, risking your life to report on the war in Afghanistan or Iraq, and even arguing for restraint and against waging war are examples of patriotism.

Driving to Home Deport and buying a $20 flag for your Ford Explorer is the beginning of a story entitled, "How I spent my Saturday afternoon".

I just think it's easier for us (me... especially me... included) to do the symbolic act rather than something real, something meaningful, and somehow we have convinced ourselves that symbolic action is as important as true effort.

In my case, I just don't feel connected to these causes. I thankfully do not know anyone with breast cancer or AIDS, so people suffering from these diseases are simply a news story to me.

Like everyone else, I was tremendously moved and distraught over the sights and sounds of that fateful day in September of 2001. Men and women jumping to their deaths. Firemen rushing into towers of flames without regard to their own safety. But I didn't know anyone who lost their lives on Flight 93, or at the Pentagon, or in the twin towers of the World Trade Center, so over time (as much as I would like to say that it hasn't) I think even my feelings from that day have disappeared, replaced by thoughts of how I should feel.

And that is not to say that I do not have compassion and anger, but it seems somehow artificial to me.

What is real to me is a father's loss of his 5 year old boy.

It was a week ago that I heard about Chuck Loshnowsky's son, Collin. I have had the pleasure of knowing Chuck for several years. He owns a team in a fantasy football league in which I have participated for ten years. Chuck bares a striking resemblance to Jay Fielder and is simply just a good and decent guy (qualities which make him unique in our league).

A week ago today my friend, Brent, (our commissioner) sent around a note to several of us informing us that Chuck's son had been in a horrible accident. Collin, 5, had been playing with his brother (7) and some friends in front of Chuck's house, when they all decided to go skateboarding. Not having a helmet, Collin ran across the street to get one when he was struck and killed by a passing automobile.

Ever since that e-mail, not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about Collin, Chuck, Chuck's wife, Nicole, their other son, as well as the 77-year old man driving the car. Not a day has gone by that I haven't prayed for them all.

This is real to me and no sticker or ribbon in the world is necessary to make me remember, to make me feel what I feel today.

So while our soldiers battle bravely on in Afghanistan and Iraq and while men and women lie in hospital beds suffering through their final days, their bodies ravaged by cancer or AIDS, I think about driving more slowly now, looking this way and that, and of a 5 year old boy whose time has come much too soon.

Random Thoughts Friday I

2004-11-12T15:20:00.000-05:00

Chaos in the midst of chaos isn't funny, but chaos in the midst of order is -- Steve Martin

Of all the wonderfully entertaining e-journal entries I have read there this week, Big Bad Dumb is my favorite so far for pure entertainment. And of all the bon mots in that piece, "lemony elephant"... perfectly acerbically hilarious.

Has Bill O'Reilly lost it? It's bad enough that as a "special deal" for spending 100 bucks at his online store that your reward is a "limited edition" signed Xerox of the questions that he asked President Bush in September on his show... but to call this reproduction on his show an "historic document"?!! I guess in Bill's world grandiose claims don't count as spin.

A couple of thoughts from my past weekend of PA Turnpike driving: What color-blind bastard named Yellow Freight, YELLOW Freight??? And I guess Tony Orlando's song would now go... "stick that yellow ribbon on your S-U-V".

I am all for legalizing Monster Trucks on our roadways. After having people pull out in front me yesterday on two separate occasions only to go 5 mph as they tried to figure out where it was that they wanted to go, I became a huge proponent of Big Foot legislation. Namely, if you pull out in front of someone and then proceed at a snail's pace, then it is perfectly permissible for them, if they have a Monster Truck, to crunch your car into oblivion.

I recently saw a beautifully produced U.S. Postal Service ad on tv and came away thinking--- why in h-e-double toothpicks is the post office advertising? Does this mean I can expect to see ads from the Sewickley Water Authority on tv soon?

We Might As Well Be Strangers by Keane is playing on my iTunes, while The Darling by Russell Banks is dog-earred on my nightstand.

My lovely sister bought me Halo 2 for my birthday and I have waited patiently for its release... which was this past Tuesday. Here's the problem... I won't see my sister until Thanksgiving. The solution... spend $5 to rent a game for 5 days that I'm going to get in less than 2 weeks. Oh well, I never claimed to be completely rational.

Blizz...Out

F Earl

2004-11-11T07:48:00.000-05:00

Is it too much to ask to be left alone at a supermarket?

Whether by design or circumstance I do my grocery shopping Wednesday evenings, which tends to be a light traffic night. I'm in and out in under an hour and I use the self-scan lines not because I dream of one day being a checkout clerk but rather to avoid small talk. Grocery shopping is the one activity in which I indulge my asocial side. In other words, just leave me the f alone.

Most people seem to get this. Hell, most people seem to embrace this.

So can someone please explain to me that crazy woman in aisle 11 last night?

I'm not sure if you've visited a Giant Eagle lately, or if maybe your local chain has adopted the same strategy, but it's no longer just Kellogg's, Post, and General Mills that fill the cereal shelves. In addition to Malt-o-Meal and Kashi, Giant Eagle also hawks its private-label cereal at half the price and taste as the brand names. Making matters worse, thanks to the "organic" craze, which was followed by the "fiber" phase, since followed by the low-carb fad and simultaneously with sticking any kind of dehydrated fruit -- particularly bananas -- into their plain Jane cereal (e.g. Corn Flakes with REAL bananas), the cereal shelves are stuffed like a fat woman in spandex.

(Side note: Who in the hell is still eating Grape Nuts? And who ever ate Mueslix?)

It would seem that Giant Eagle had an engineer organize the shelves. Either that or the asundry Chex cereals have reciprocal restraining orders that prevent them from being within 6 cereals of one another.

So I'm scanning the shelves for Multi-Bran Chex -- which has moved in the 2 weeks since my last visit as a result of adding some high-fiber, low-carb, dehydrated fruit offering that had Denise Austin on the box grinning like the Cheshire Cat, clearly in need of a bathroom break after having indulged too heavily in her high-fiber cereal with dehydrated prunes.

Sorry... So I'm scanning, being gleefully asocial, and watching this crazy woman out of the corner of my eye who is watching me look at the cereal shelves and walking toward me. You would think the fact that I subsequently moved my cart directly in between us would signal "leave me the f alone". It would and does unless you are the Crazy Woman in Aisle 11.

"Is there a particular cereal I can help you with?"

Who in the hell asks that? Even the people running around the store in Giant Eagle smocks don't ask people that. In fact, they don't even acknowledge you when you are soliciting their help to find something. And yet here was the Crazy Woman in Aisle 11 -- a shopper like myself, except clearly mad -- asking me if she could help me find a cereal.

As my friends will lie and tell you... I'm an indulgent and social person. I'm also particularly patient with people who break taboos, such as talking to others in the cereal aisle of the local Giant Eagle. So I smiled -- like Denise Austin -- and politely declined her invitation.

Crazy Woman in Aisle 11 isn't like you or me. She wasn't born with the sensor that picks up on signals from other people nor apparently could she read the big neon sign I had flashing over my head that screamed "LEAVE ME THE F ALONE".

"Raisin Bran is a good one. Total with [REAL] Strawberries is another one we like."

"Okay, thanks," I said, which clearly was said in a way to convey "LEAVE ME THE F ALONE".

Crazy Woman in Aisle 11 then picked up a box of cereal -- I can't remember which one because at this point I felt like I did while watching The Grudge -- how in the hell did I end up here? -- and CWA11 began explaining why I should buy this cereal.

And I thought (with Charlton Heston's voice in my head) "Damn you, Giant Eagle and dehydrated fruit makers," while I started picking up every box in the vicinity in the hope that my cereal was covered up and in some strange hope that my desperate act of tearing through cereal boxes would scare CWA11 away.

It didn't work.

When I finally located a box of Multi-Bran Chex, CWA11 smiled and said, "Earl likes that one."

"Who the F is Earl and why should I care?" is what I thought. Instead, my smile and patience long since exhausted, I muttered, "lucky me," as I hurried off to the adjacent pet aisle. Surely a woman this desperate for conversation could not have a pet, I thought then and mentioned to Otto later when I returned to the safety of my home.

Although, in retrospect, CWA11 had all the markings of a crazy cat lady (any single woman with 3 or more cats). I'm quite sure that Earl was not her husband, as I thought at the time, but rather one of her 7 (as she was especially crazy) Siamese, Burmese, Ragdoll or whatever type of cats that crazy cat ladies have. Each cat with a different favorite cereal.

So maybe this makes you think that I'm a misanthrope or asocial. Fortunately, if this is true, then it's okay for me to tell you that I don't like you or want to talk to you anyway.

Tim Crutcher

2004-11-09T19:25:00.000-05:00

Eternal youth

I thought about Pi this morning.

3.14159 not apple or pumpkin.

On more restless days, my mind wanders to 6.02 x 10^23 and then to "great gobs of galloping goldfish" and "you squirrels". On long drives the Order of Operations some times flirts with me, which invariably leads to midnight madness and my friend Eric animated like I have never seen him, exasperatedly yelling at a Domino's Pizza delivery guy that "the mathematical way is the logical way!" And, of course, on those occasions when 9.8 m/s^2 worms its way into my subconscience like a Men at Work song, I think of Captain Ceo and Godzilla killing Bambi.

But today I thought of Pi. So today I thought of Tim Crutcher.

And it's always the same question... why would anyone memorize Pi to the 40th decimal place?

I guess it would help if you knew that Tim was not your run-of-the-mill geek. No, Tim was an extraordinary one. Biblical floods wouldn't have dampened the hems of his pants. Before they became fashionable among 80 year-old Jewish women, Tim sported oversized, partially-tinted glasses and wore plaid shirts that you typically only see on a scarecrow in a poor man's cornfield.

In short, Tim was the kind of guy that nerds ostracized.

So maybe it should have come as no surprise when during some dreary 9th-grade day Tim proudly recited the first 40 decimal places of Pi.

But it did and still does.

Memorizing something so meaningless. A number that seemingly has no end. For what purpose?

And then I wonder, what does it say about me that I vividly recall Tim Crutcher, Pi, and other memories like these. (And worse yet, write about them!)

Is my life just a random recollection of odd occurrences? Am I really any different than Tim?

And then I'm out on the street, walking Otto past the firestation and thinking "Why are fire engines red? 4 Wheels 8 Men. 4 + 8 is 12 . . ." and then I see Alexandra (my step-daughter for too short a time) set tight in her car seat in the back of my Honda singing like Bono... "it's a beautiful day, don't let it get away. A beautiful day". And I remember.

27-3

2004-11-08T07:46:00.000-05:00

Until we meet again

If a tie is like kissing your sister, then a win over the Eagles is like kissing your girlfriend's sister. You enjoy it and look forward to doing it again, but you'd be wise to keep those thoughts to yourself. And, generally speaking, comparisons are ill-advised.

It's best to stick with things like...

"I can't see that happening again" or "whatever you are cooking smells wonderful".

While I believe myself selective in who I consider friends, somehow a few people have slipped through who are not diehard Steelers' fans but instead root for the team from the City of Brotherly Love. Recognizing that everyone has at least one flaw (and now that you know that I have friends who are Eagles' fans, you have discovered mine) and believing deeply that everyone is capable of redemption, I have befriended these deluded fans of Philly.

The game begins

So while I hollered and pumped my fists during the first half of yesterday's game (21-3) in the raw emotion zone known as my home, I had the pleasure of spending the 2nd half in the comfort and friendship of one of those McNabb Maniacs.

Realizing (at least from my perspective) the error of his ways, my friend had the good sense to marry a beautiful, intelligent woman, who more importantly is also a Steelers' fan.

Yes -- he wanted to save his kids. There was hope.

First son -- Eagles' fan.

Okay, mistakes can happen. Fortunately, they decided to have a 2nd child to correct this mistake. And like any good mother would, she declared her 2nd born for the Black and Gold.

Unfortunately, my friend and his wife allow their children some freedom of thought, and while I normally find this admirable, in some circumstances (such as football team allegiance) this is dangerous.

Big brothers and fathers representing to a younger brother what that they do, he cannot help but want to share in this alliance -- even if all involved understand the gravity of this misjudgment.

Final score... 27-3. Steelers win. The Steelers win.

No hollers. No fist pumps. Just a polite smile and good conversation about the prospect of our teams -- the best in each of their respective conferences -- meeting again. And then my friend and I, with a Nerf football and two Eagles-loving boys in tow, made our way to the backyard to catch, throw, and run, to play the game that boys of all ages have played for decades. Where there are no Steelers' fans. And no Eagles' fans. Just football fans.

2004-11-06T11:16:00.000-05:00

The Infamous Otto

Election Reflection

2004-11-06T11:01:00.000-05:00

Thanks, Chad, for the daily reminder of how much fun this was when it had no name, and to whom I say, as I'm sure Wendy would agree, Steelers by 4!

As I was saying...

Oh, those exit polls.

No, not the ones conducted on Election Day by Dan Rather's 6o Minutes researchers. I mean the more meaningful ones that tell us that maybe Babs is leaving and Alec too. And while Mr. Smith went to Washington, Mr. Redford may be heading to Ireland. So many Hollywood liberals, so few who seem to want to stay and fight.

It's not just Hollywood now. Maura, Tim, and Karen, diehard Bush-haters, which is to say "tepid Kerry supporters", moaned at work and on the radio and in a shopping mall that they may flee to Canada, the UK, or possibly France (though not Mexico... it has too many [embarrassed whisper] Mexicans, oddly enough). With Burberry scarves adorning their necks and Prada bags at their sides, they say their tearful good-byes... on their self-aggrandizing web sites.

Leave now, they must. Religious fanatics have re-elected a Christian.

So why is it when the devil incarnate (this is said in jest... well, sort of) won a plurality in 1992 and again in 1996 or before this election (presuming a Kerry victory), you heard nary a conservative or a Republican express his intention to expatriate himself?

While a more thoughtful investigation may wrangle with considerations of petulance and hauteur, in an effort to "begin the healing", I offer these possibilities (or perhaps, more apropos, exaggerations):

1) While conservatives have no problem outsourcing American jobs to India, we ourselves would certainly never want to go there.

2) Fleeing to Canada would require taking our homes off of cinder blocks.

3) Only Aleksander Kwasniewski has offered to take us in.

4) When asked what Ennui is, our best guess would be "a name some poor black woman had given her child."

5) There isn't a Spanish word for "NASCAR".

6) Iraq is the only country that will let us bring our guns.

7) David Hasselhoff is big in Germany. Enough said.

8) We make WAY TOO MUCH $$$ here, so we'd be stupid to leave.

If it's not that, then maybe we are all just waiting for Lee Greenwood to sing us a new song and show us the way.

- Blizz