Finally Another Triple Crown

     Today, I finally got to see another Triple Crown winner in my lifetime; the third and final example of the most exciting 2 minutes in sports.  I don’t think I really fully appreciated the last three since I saw them happen in a span of just five years during the 70’s. Who would have thought it would take 37 years for another horse to do it again?  For my wife it was the first time she'd witnessed a Triple Crown winner live; both of us were both yelling as we watched the horses came down the final stretch and American Pharoah pull away at the end, great stuff.

Last year I was really rooting for California Chrome to pull off the Triple Crown and it really exposed the pettiness behind the scenes in horse racing. It’s hard for a horse to race 3 times in less than two months, especially with the travel involved. With other trainers not really trying to win the Triple Crown but instead working to prevent someone else from doing it is akin to a jealous ex-lover knocking someone off because they don’t want any else to have them. It is way past the stage for a serious look to a change in the timing between races. It wouldn't cheapen it since an owner would still need a hell of a good horse to beat the best 3 times in a row. 

I guess I wonder if horse racing would be as popular if it had been designed around something other than betting. No doubt viewership wouldn’t be as high nor would it also be for the 4 major pro leagues ; teams getting fined for not reporting injuries doesn’t have anything to do with appeasing the oddsmakers in Vegas does it? Nope sure doesn’t and by the way, I am the REAL Easter Bunny.

The past couple years I’ve started to gravitate more and from the major pro sports and toward something different, like bull riding. The rules are real simple: 1. Ride for 8 seconds, 2. Don’t get killed. The riders all root for each other since they all have a common opponent: the bulls. If there is any trash talking it must be in the locker room because you don’t see it on event night, it’s rather refreshing.

Congratulations to American Pharoah’s team for a great accomplishment and a two-fisted one finger salute to the trainers that skipped races and ran their horses only in the Belmont, this year at least it didn’t matter.

Tag, You're In and the Floppy Socks are Out

     When the New Year rolls around, as it just did, conversation often turns to the question of New Year’s resolutions. What New Year’s resolutions are you making and how long do you think you will stick to them?  The idea, in essence, makes a lot of sense; we just passed through a time of introspection and reflection on the year that was, as Christmas and whatever holiday you celebrate blew in through your front door and out the back. Then again maybe not, everyone celebrates the holidays in their own way and some folks are just happy to see the previous year in the rear view mirror as we look to a fresh start.

     New Year’s resolutions have been around since ancient times and are recorded as far back as the Babylonians and the Romans. The Romans moved the practice from March back to January, apparently as an offering to the God Janus, where we get the name for the month of January.  This god had two heads looking in opposite directions, one looking at the year ahead, the other head peering back at the year behind.  No doubt Saturday nights in the land of the gods must have been difficult; when you have two heads wanting to go in opposite directions deciding which party they were going to run off to probably ended in a tug of war. As you can see in the pic above he has his party jug at hand. I bet he walked sideways a lot.

     The beginning of a new year is similar to the experience of driving a stretch through a winding road only to finally come around a blind curve that opens into a long straightway. That straight stretch of road appears to have no end as it touches the horizon in the distance, though we know perception lies a lot and that straightaway may contain a dip we don’t see and a turn or three as we keep on truckin’. Maybe that’s where New Year’s resolutions come in to the picture; either way we get to see where the road leads.

     As we drive, those resolutions can become navigational aids or convenient clubs left by the side of the road to pick up and beat ourselves over the head with when we feel the need. The old standby resolutions such as eating better, losing weight, getting more exercise, quitting smoking or drinking have the potential to lend themselves to frequent stops to grab a club. From this seat I see those as year round sort of resolutions; whether it’s January, May or October I can always start my year over.  I kind of consider offering the old standbys as my New Year’s resolutions as being kind of lazy on my part; most of those pop up all year long for me anyway, so I know I am and will continue to be a work in progress.

      My resolutions tend to be a little outside the norm and I fully claim the right to make new ones at any time of the year. Last year in March I had to make a late resolution to not wear my shirt to work inside out. Apparently I threw on my polo shirt inside out one morning and didn’t notice until someone asked me why I had a tag on the outside of my shirt halfway through the day. I didn't bother switching it around at that point, why argue with success?

   A brief side rant here: Why do we call polo shirts polo shirts? I remember when these types of shirts started showing up everywhere during the 80’s we called them golf shirts, because golfers seemed to be the only ones wearing them.  There is a lot more people that play golf anyway. Who the hell knows anyone that plays polo?  Seriously, full contact croquet on horseback with a soccer goal and we name a shirt for that?  No, nah, nah, nah no, false. Okay, end rant now where was I? Ah, resolutions for a new year and the right to change them, or not.

     I’ve decided to keep the not wearing my shirt inside out to work resolution, and will apply that to all apparel with tags, though my wife and I disagree on one item. I say underwear doesn’t count because no one sees it, she disagrees; the eternal debate rolls on.

     Another resolution I am going to stick with this year is to try some type of food I have never eaten. A few months ago I ate guacamole for the first time. To me it is the most disgusting looking stuff; I thought it looked more like lizard puree than something edible. As far as I’m concerned it still is horrible looking stuff, though now I can say it tastes good. Live and learn I guess, though I do reserve the right to not eat cottage cheese again. Ever.

    Another resolution I’ve made for this year is a kind of two in one. I decided at least a couple times a month to wear different colored socks to work. That idea will test my creativity with a collection of socks that are either black, grey, or brown, which leads to part two. I resolve to purge my sock drawer of all my Pete Maravich socks. You know the ones I’m talking about; the ones with the elastic that is shot so they just puddle around your ankles. Hmm, I guess there is a part three here too. I suppose I’ll also have to rid my sock drawer of all the socks I’ve sharpened my toenails on for so long I can read the newspaper through the toe.

   I resolve to make more lists this year to give myself a visual reminder to not forget to do the stuff I keep forgetting to do. I think I will do them in pencil, because those trusty old pencils need some love too. I think I have a sharpener stashed in my office supplies box, its probably hidden under the box of staples I bought 5 years ago. This list idea is done under the guise of having my office be more organized. Now if I can keep the top of my desk a little more clutter free I might be able to find said list. 

     My resolution for this weekend is to put all the Christmas stuff back in the shed and fill the recycle bin with the boxes left over from Christmas shipping. The cats will lose their playhouse, though they have more than enough toys around here to keep them amused; especially the hair ties from the two-legged in the house.

     My wish for your New Year is one of good health and much success. Hopefully you will all find the time to find a good spot to watch the sun rise or set, take in the glow of a full moon with someone you care about, find some flowers to get a good whiff of and just basically  be happy. I say this to you and also to myself. We have a new year to mold, enjoy it and fill with new memories. Here's to making it a good one.

     

The Kyphosis Inheritance

Dusty demons found hiding in my office

I often have to stifle a giggle  when I witness what is essentially an impromptu group photo of the obsession with cellphones. It is not like I suddenly noticed; the rock I live under does have windows after all.  I am talking about that moment when I just stop to observe; I marvel at the scope of this current cultural phenomenon. Age isn't a factor, nor is social strata. It manifests right in front of you, whether you’re cruising the aisles at Walmart looking for cheap crap you don’t need or strolling into a fancy office fronted by a receptionist with a $100 manicure. I’m talking about that obsession with our “cellulose” phones, those magical devices that convince a goodly portion of any group to stand around with their faces buried in the screen. I’m guilty too at times, though I force myself to stop walking when I ‘m writing a text, which occasionally does help the person on the receiving end. Anyone that receives texts from me on a regular basis can attest to the 3^rd degree eye slaughter that results from the “some language other than English” those texts frequently contain. And no, I don’t use auto-correct thank you; I can make perfectly nonsensical messages all by myself.

     I get that I can do lots of stuff on a phone. My question is why? I just don’t get the attraction of fiddling with Facebook, getting lost in a game or watching a movie on that little bitty screen. Nope, lost me there and no I don't want the app for that. I guess I should go out and come back in again.

     I'll catch myself standing there gawking when I‘m somewhere like a store or anywhere people tend to congregate, and I'll notice how so many folks have their heads bent over their phones. Sometimes I wonder what the teens and twenty something's of today will look like when they are my age or older. Will we have a whole segment of society populated by those afflicted with kyphosis? Scores of folks walking around with their head bent forward since they can’t lift it up because their back and neck is all whacked. I’m sure you've seen those little old folks in the grocery store, head bent over their grocery cart, shuffling along pretty much staring at their feet?  In addition, I envision a myriad of arthritic thumbs and index fingers bent in 6 different directions from sliding, tapping and texting. It doesn't sound pretty, then again I’m paying for my misspent youth too in some ways, so the invincible mindset managed to get passed down the line. Not that wasn't much of a surprise now was it?

 I’ll catch myself walking and texting and I make myself stop, finish my message and put the damn thing away. I see so many people out and about that walk with their face glued to the screen of their phone it makes me shake my head. I guess there is no great concern out there of walking in to a wall or the person in front of you, possibly trip over a curb, or just wander out in to the street. My question is, why the obsession with our cell phones and why do I see so many people doing it? Even If it’s in my pocket it's still sending me updates and such from text or email messages. It is somewhat like having a bunch of kids around when the ice cream man comes down the street; its just going to bug you until you take it out and respond to what it wants.

The changes in phones and how we use them has been quite amazing really, though I doubt the old land-line phone will disappear entirely. There are still a lot of areas where cell reception is bad, whether due to terrain or in cities where cell towers are not allowed for aesthetic reasons. I haven’t had a land-line phone in about 7 years and doubt I’ll go back to one unless the geography of my domicile deems it necessary. 

I have a love/ hate relationship with my phone even if it serves 3 functions fairly well.  First and foremost it's my alarm clock. No more pumpkin face luminous numbers staring back at me in the middle of the night; I don't own any electric clocks now. Second, it’s my watch since I don’t like wearing one. Lastly, it’s a phone, where it’s used sparingly as a talking device. Since I talk on the phone all day at work I sure as hell don't want to talk on it when my day is done. I probably use it the most for texting, and it only makes noise when the alarm goes off.  Oh and there is another thing I use it for occasionally and mainly outdoors. I used my current phone to take the picture at the top and was surprised it actually came out all right. It really sucks for taking inside picture, I almost need Klieg lights to get a decent picture. I leaned them against the lamp that sits on my desk, which is made out of an old coffee pot and voila! Wonders never cease.  

Now my dastardly companion will go to one side of my desk, where it resides most weekends until I need the alarm on Sunday night. Now if my thumbs would stop aching and I could just get rid of this stiff neck…

Watching Train Wrecks

    

     I am happy to report that despite being exposed to 24 hour cable news on a daily for basis the past several weeks, I do not have Ebola.  I am not a news watcher, whether it’s the local,” If it bleeds it leads” variety or the 24 tag team loop of the same 3 stories repeated over and over. Since I choose not to eat at my desk and rarely go out for lunch, most days it’s just me and this enormous TV in the break room; the 72” flat screen on the wall is rather difficult to avoid. Granted the Ebola story needed to be told, though some of the lead lines just made me shake my head. I just munched on my brown bag fare of the day, read my book and waited for the dire warning to grab a few rolls of duct tape and cover my windows with plastic. News in any variety is basically the use of certain volatile words like, “deadly”, “tragic”, or “ devastating” to create an emotional response to get you to stop and watch, then sell you a few pills, the latest electronic gadget , or a car you can look great in while you drive around collecting cans to help pay for it. Then again, maybe I’m a bit cynical when it comes to some things.  Believe it or not I hold out some hope for the human race, though that has been tested by the other ongoing sagas filling our various news outlets recently.

     The other stories of course have to do with police involved shooting in Ferguson and the killing of an unarmed man on the streets of New York. The subsequent protests are just another example of how everybody loses when incidents like this occur.  A crisis like this hits friends and families on both sides and we are given a ring side seat to watch. Well maybe not everyone lost; I’m sure the networks probably made out pretty well, advertisers’ stuff got eyeballed and no doubt several lawyers picked up a few new clients. There is always money to be made from other folk’s misfortune; somehow a train wreck has its own special magnetism and we become powerless to tear ourselves away from the devastation.

     I watched chunks of coverage after 9-11 and Hurricane Katrina and the latter drove me away from watching news altogether; I felt like a voyeur after seeing people at their most vulnerable and being firmly convinced that it all didn't need to go down that way. I feel the same way about the police involved incidents that have been filling the newswires of late. Ferguson, from what my half ear has heard and the little I've read, seems to have been wrong right from jump street; inconsistent statements came from both sides, though it appears to have exposed an attitude that has no place anymore, which the New York incident showed is not restricted to St Louis.  Based on the response to a few football players making a show of support, the Police Chief’s office in St. Louis must have had a stray can of gas lying around and figured he’d thrown it in.

     As a kid growing up I watched the Civil Rights marches on TV and I thought over time they gave this country a good start in making some progress in race relations.  By saying that I must add a caveat; I’m not black and I never have been so I can’t speak to what it’s like being rousted for being black in public. The only thing I can speak to is being stopped for being long haired in public. It really doesn't have the same social impact; one is a choice the other is not.

     I don’t have any answers, though I wish I did. No doubt the answers are within our grasp, I just wonder if anyone is listening.

   

    

 Photo source - www.me.umn.edu

. 

I Can't Believe it's Coach Speak...Spray

     Did anyone else see the Richard Sherman and Doug Baldwin press conference on Tuesday making fun of NFL policies? If the video above doesn't play, here is a link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tLbv4_TpsL8

     I’m sure it will get taken down pretty quickly and not because it isn't high comedy, which it’s not, or because it’s not safe for work, which it is: it will get the hook  because of the content.

    Living in Arizona Cardinals country I am definitely not a Seahawks fan, never have been and never will be. It is not necessary to be a Seahawks fan to appreciate some of the points these guys made in the video, though I think it will pretty much fall on deaf ears and probably cost each of them more than a few dollars.  Marshawn Lynch getting fined for not talking to the media started it and I don’t think this little drama is over yet. No doubt in a few days they both will be having a press conference to regale us with fake contrition and bow to King Roger the Double Face.

     As I've seen players and coaches get fined for not talking to the media more and more I’m reminded of Hall of Fame pitcher Steve Carlton, he refused to talk to the media for years and I don’t ever remember him getting fined for it.  And yes I know that was more than a few years ago, though pro sports is still pro sports and the media is still the same media since the first newspaper hit the stands. I don’t blame athletes’ for their reticence to talk to the media; half a sentence turned in to a sound bite can start an avalanche that would level a ski-resort in nothing flat. Some players just give lousy interviews; others can talk circles around the person handling the microphone and love to give interviews. Interview those guys and leave the players that can’t put two intelligent sounding sentences together back to back alone. 

     Say what you will about the masters of coach speak, Bob Knight and the two Bills, Belichik and Parcells, none of those guys really ever gave up anything and have no problem shutting down silly questions.  Granted, the answers any athlete or coach has to give during a press conference or an on the field interview pretty much sound like they came from a can. I think the NFL should give every player and coach a spray can of “Coach Speak”, each clearly labeled with instructions on the side to “Use when near media members”.  

     My thinking is the players’ associations in the major pro sports had to include availability to the media as part of any bargaining package they signed with the various leagues; no doubt it is a much bigger part than one would think and most likely a possible deal breaker if not included.

   Here’s a thought to those that think these guys get paid a lot of money to play a game, which they do, so they should always make themselves available to the media.  I have a game for you and you don’t have to make an NFL team to play. This is how it works. You agree to sign up to have anywhere from 70-80 car accidents ranging in speeds from 15 to 30 mph once a week for 3 to 3.5 hours, with a couple short breaks thrown in and then tell me how much you’ll really feel like talking to anyone after that. Just sayin’.

     These two guys, well one and a cardboard cut-out bring up some other salient points in their little skit, which when posed to league officials are usually answered in corporate rhetoric, even when someone points out the obvious. The rules have been changed; they are constantly being tinkered with, tightened in some areas, only to be loosened in others all under the pretense of player safety. “Yes, we are concerned about player safety, but the fans really enjoy the Thursday night games.” Translation: Everything before but is bullshit, and we care about more about the brand and the piles of money rolling in, player safety is nice but it's a secondary consideration.   

   The games in London are another example of the lie that is player safety.  Flying in a tin can of compressed air is tough enough going from coast-to-coast; the idea of essentially doing it twice back to back to get to a game in London is beyond ridiculous. Seriously, isn't the definition of insanity failing at the same thing over and over while expecting different results? I mean NFL Europe was such a rousing success, why not try something similar it will be huge success. False. Now they punish teams for winning the bid for the Super Bowl by having them give up a home game to play it in London once a year. I’m sure the stands will be filled to capacity to see the Jags play there 4 years in a row;better get your tickets now before they are all gone.

   I’m not surprised the response from the league office has been a no comment. It will be interesting to see how it plays out, though in the mean time I’ll go back to sipping a coffee and screaming at the TV on Sunday, and Monday, and Thursday.

A Test You Can't Study For

     

     There is nothing quite like a cancer scare to make your ass pucker and push your thought in all sorts of directions. One of the aspects of something like that coming down the pike is the knowledge you’ll may end up running the gauntlet we all know as the health care industry if the test results force you to start down that path. I had a procedure done the other day that still gives me little reminders of Gregg’s Not Excellent Adventure in a paper gown. I came through all right, though the two weeks leading up to that result is really what this post is about. I've waited a couple  of days with the idea in mind that it would help cut down on the profanity that may erupt from the end of my fingers during what will follow here: I make no promises nor apologies.

     My regular GP sent me to a specialist to get something checked out that gave him pause.  After some research online using the list of names I was given I made an appointment. When I arrived they asked me to pee in a cup and I dutifully complied.  After the usual vitals stuff the doc arrived about 20 minutes later. His entrance set my teeth on edge for the days ahead:

“Hi I’m Dr. ___, we found blood in your urine we are going to check you for cancer.” 

“Um, what?”

     At this juncture I’m still a big groggy after getting up 3 hours earlier than usual to get this appointment in before I get to work, though he has definitely got my attention, so  I listen to what the has to say. Essentially the hook was set for me to come back. He rattled off a short description of what happens next, tells me I need another test first before I came back, and explains the procedure. He then proceeds to tell me he does over 750 of these a year and I start doing math in my head. He shoos me off to see the receptionist and collect my cares and ways so I can head home.

     I scheduled the other test, which was taking a ride on the Stargate machine, AKA a CT scan; since they can’t do anything but take the test then hand you a CD I had to wait another week to get back to the doc again after that the test. Needless to say more than once that week I woke in the middle of the night and had to talk myself down off the ceiling before the appointment day rolled around.  After all is said and done, I’m right as rain, though maybe a tad grumpy, which is pretty much my normal state if you ask some folks. Am I glad all worked out okay?  You bet your ass I am, though I am definitely torqued at what I experienced.

    

     I felt like I was run through a procedure mill, right from my initial conversation with the doctor to the fact I got the EoB from my insurance less than 2 days after I had the procedure done. I never get those EoBs that fast. Never. The doctor himself and his staff were very pleasant, professional, and efficient though almost too much so; I felt like I reached warp speed as I was hustled through every little detail of my visit. When I was on my way out from the first visit I was told that my CT scan had been scheduled with an imaging place right down the road from this doctor’s office. I told the scheduler I’d rather not drive a half hour for the CT scan and preferred to use a place closer to my house, she wasn't too happy. That unhappiness was reinforced on procedure day when the doc asked me why I used the place his look of disdain just didn't sit right with me. I get the whole referrals thing and the back and forth, though seriously don’t be so fucking obvious. I told the gal who took my vitals that I felt like I was being hustled through a procedure mill. Her response was, “You know what this test is for right?” “No, I’m a goddamn idiot that hears the word cancer in the first 15 seconds of talking to the doctor and decides instead that it’s a good time for tennis lessons.”  Meow. When the doc came in he asked me the same question and I told him to just get this shit done. When we finished he asked me again and I told him, “You pretty much hooked me to come back when you the word cancer popped out of your mouth in the first words you spoke to me.” His response to that statement was the same question; obviously he didn't get my fucking point and I doubt he never will or cares too. 

     The whole procedure mill phenomenon is just way out of hand. From doctors performing a half dozen Lasik surgeries before lunch, to being knocked out so someone can stick a camera up your ass to check your tonsils, and though I don’t have them I’m sure most women don’t enjoy putting their tits in a vice. In essence it’s about billing; a hard sell under the guise of healthcare.  What we have is one continuous call to grab our plastic sheeting and duct tape to cover our windows so we can feel proactive as we wait for disaster to strike.

     The whole setup is based on fear; making us afraid and using that as an advantage to justify the process, which really fries my onions. So much of our health costs and our time spent are about responding to fear. My issue here is really how we have been conditioned to be afraid of various and sundry diseases that we willingly submit ourselves to all these tests over and over. Once we get our results we are usually handed a pill or two and the cycle repeats itself.  

     For me, doctors are essentially body mechanics and I go to them when I need a diagnosis if I think something is wrong.  Being stubborn as hell some times that noticing needs more than a little prodding from my other half. She is extremely adept at using my own advice against me; she simply asks me if she was experiencing whatever the symptom may be, what would I say to her. At that point I call her a brat, she giggles and I go make an appointment.  I guess I don’t see the value in looking for trouble, though I know a lot of you beg to differ when it comes to this kind of stuff. 

     My issue is not with the tests themselves, it is the fearful mindset we've allowed to be foisted upon us. Fear is a great motivator and an excellent marketing ploy that is used by basically anything that we buy whether it’s cars, zit cream, or the stuff on the “As Seen on TV” rack at your local grocery store and healthcare. You ask, have I fallen prey to the marketing of fear? Of course, if I had conquered the human condition I wouldn't be here. My biggest fear now is running out of things to write about and having the time to do it, and as boogy men go that’s not a big one. 

Not My Idea of Body Art

    

     I managed to pick myself up a case recently, and it wasn't the kind you bring home for a backyard barbecue. I surmised I pretty much had bronchitis so I carted myself off to urgent care. Forget about trying to get in to see my regular doc at the beginning of ick season, he was booked solid. I went to the same urgent care I have used before since they are usually pretty efficient.

     When I arrived I was the only one in the waiting room, which only proves my point; if you are going to get sick do it early in the morning, the lines are shorter. I sat and filled out the normal paperwork crapola and sat down to wait.  I began to wonder if everyone there was updating their Facebook page and why I was still waiting to go in; there was no one there but me.  After about 15 or 20 minutes the triage technician lady came out and called my name. We ran through all the usual vitals stuff and she told me to wait for the doc. I kicked back with my Kindle to wait for the docs appearance, which didn't take very long.

     The doc did the usual poking and prodding, peering in orifices and listening to my chest, then told me she wanted a chest x-ray.  A few minutes later back in comes the same technician and says, ‘I’m the x-ray tech too, follow me.”  Off I thus troggled to the x-ray room. I elicited a giggle when I explained she needed to turn the slide on end because I have long lungs. She remarked she wished more people would remember that. I didn't realize it was that common and I thought it was kind of weird when an x-ray tech pointed that out to me many years ago, so I've made a point to remember.

    After that it was back to wait for results and see the doc again. She gave me a few  scripts and told she wanted to give a shot of some kind of antibiotic to get my healing kick-started.  Guess who was handed the job of antibiotic archer? Yep, it was the same triage, x-ray tech. I told her she needed to get paid more; she agreed.  She put a band-aid on my hip over the injection spot, handed me some papers and sent me on my way.

      The fun began later, depending on your point of view. I‘m not a big fan of band-aids; they either keep trying to fall off or collect every stray bit of fuzz I  get near when I am wearing one. I decided this one needed to go; it wasn't covering anything that big. Bad idea I had there. I had a bit of trouble trying to get it started to pull it off since it was in a rather odd spot, though I finally managed to pull it loose – along with a few pieces of skin.  

     A gander at the mirror confirmed my suspicions; I had a nice connect the dots in the shape of a band-aid on my ass.  In between giggles and ouchs I received an assist from my better half in finding a bigger one to cover my new body art.

     This one is staying on till it falls off or it snows here- whichever comes first.

Leaving on a Jet Plane....Nope not yet.

     

     I do not have a fear of flying; I just don’t like to do it. Short flights of two, maybe two and half hours or less I can tolerate fairly well, though anything much longer than that I dread the thought of; it’s akin to that one unpleasant task that you don’t really want to do. You know that one thing you finally decided can’t be avoided and just need to follow through on. I know flying is the most time efficient way to travel long distances, I just don’t like that post-flight feeling of being beaten with a phone book; there are no bruises though it sure feels like there should be some. I basically walk out the gangway like I’m wearing a blindfold and only one shoe; I usually end up walking into something. I pretty much have figured out that ugh feeling has a lot  to do with the fact I can’t at any point say “Hey, Pullover, I want out”, like you can on a long car ride; one can’t really do that at 35,000 feet up.

     I count myself among the fortunate ones that can fall sleep almost anywhere; I learned as a kid long trips mean lots of naps. Take me on a long road trip by car and you get pretty much the same; if you want someone to keep your company let me drive a for a while, otherwise I’ll be leaving you with your own thoughts as the miles melt away.  However, it is not so handy a trait during those often pointless meetings at work; that’s me standing up in the back there so  I don’t snap my neck nodding. Plane trips usually turn into several 20 minute cat naps which definitely make the time go faster, however I occasionally miss out on those bags of 9 peanuts the flight attendants toss at you.

     I also experienced my first peanut free flight when the flight attendant announced over the PA that we would only be given pretzels during one leg of our journey. I wasn't aware the airlines even did that type of thing, though it makes sense in recycled air 6 miles up for folks with peanut allergies.  I’d sure miss my peanut butter if that ever happened to me.

     I've come to the conclusion that airline seats and Japanese motor cars are made for midgets. If you are taller than 5’10’ and weigh more than 160 lbs. you feel like a breakfast sausage; that same feeling you get when you put on the suit that has been in the closet for 5 years and the pants…are…a…little…snug! Phew! After the combination over the past decade or so of some airlines going bankrupt and a few others merging, it seems that the airlines that are left have pushed the seats closer together to stuff a few more people in; I don’t remember flying coach as being quite as cramped years ago. Then again I could just be a cranky old man that doesn't like to fly.

     There have always been PA announcements in airports, though the post 9/11 announcement that runs on a loop makes me wonder what we have done to ourselves. You know the one I mean, it starts off with, “If any unknown person attempts…”, then repeats itself 5 minutes later. I guess it must be geared towards the folks that don’t heed the warning on the back of those sun shades we put in our windshields out here; "Do not attempt to drive with sun shade in place". If you need to have that announcement repeated to you ad nauseum you probably shouldn't leave the house.

      

     Another aspect of the changes implemented by the airlines over the past decade or so has been the decrease in the number of non-stops. Now most flights have at least one stop and those layovers often are so short you have to almost run from gate to gate depending on the airport. Sometimes, like the layover we just experienced, they seem to never end; ours did eventually since I’m writing this at home instead of Southwest gate A10 in Baltimore.  Our layover in Baltimore was supposed to be only 35 minutes and we were supposed to stay on the same plane and continue to Phoenix: I should have known that was too good to be true. Fortunately for us we had no connecting flight to catch in Phoenix since it ended up being a 3 hour wait, though I hoped no one else on our flight had to make a connection.

     We were told we needed to get off the plane and wait in the passenger area for further instructions. So off the plane we troggle to sit in the chairs by the gate and wait, about 10 fidgety minutes later with no updates the ornery goat that doesn't like to fly decided he needed some instructions. As I walked up to the gatekeeper at his little podium I overheard him tell the man that had beat me there by 3 steps to “please go sit and wait sir there have been some changes to your flight and we will let you know more shortly.”  I previously worked for a small commuter airline so I really didn't want to be “that” passenger so I went and sat myself back down. I waited another 10-15 minutes during which I saw several people attempt to elicit information from the gatekeeper; he just stonewalled each one and shooed them away, then eventually disappeared. I decided to try my luck at another desk and the woman behind the counter at least was kind enough to tell me they were giving our plane to a group that had theirs delayed and our delay would be about another hour, adding also they would have to find us another crew as well. Really?  Another trip through Baltimore airport had turned into a delay. Why should I be surprised its happened every time I've gone through there? It is the airport equivalent of the Hotel California – you can never leave.

     The situation evolved from the ridiculous to the sublime a very short time later. That plane we came in on, the one that was supposed to be used by the passengers that got hosed right before we arrived, well that one was taken away so they had to wait for another one, which turns out wasn't ready to fly either. I stood up to go look at the board to see what time they had moved our flight to and it had disappeared from the board! Right about now I am doing a slow burn, I really didn't want to leave New York and I didn't want to have my next birthday at the airport in Baltimore.  I walked up to the desk and asked a woman standing behind it, wearing makeup by the pound, what was going on.

“Well sir it seems the plane we were going to give your flight isn't ready, and it looks like we are short a crew as well.”

“Why is it every time I go through here there is an issue with the plane? Do you bring all your broken planes to Baltimore?”

“Oh no sir Southwest doesn't bring all its broken planes to Baltimore.”

Standing to my right is another woman with a twinkle in her eye and a bit of grin who pipes in with, “Well Baltimore is a maintenance hub for Southwest.”

“Ahh. Okay I get it now, all the broken planes DO come through Baltimore.” 

Queue the crickets. The woman to my right, shrugs, as a smile tugs the corner of her mouth. The woman behind the counter looks at me like she doesn't know whether to shit or wind her watch. I thank the lady to my right and tell the Maybelline ad to drink some more Kool-Aid, do an about face and head back to my seat.

     Eventually we managed to find a plane and a crew and made it into the air for the last leg of our trip home. The attendants passed out free booze to those indulging and broke out the good stuff from the snack bin - packs of cheese filled Ritz and mini Lorna Doones. I wolfed down my share and settled in for my usual nod.  We finally arrived home a few hours later than expected, grateful neither of us had to roll in to work the day.

     I hope my next trip to Baltimore is to see family and not as a stopover. If it is I’ll remember to bring a pillow and a blanket in case the Hotel California is doing a thriving business.

    

     

Four Weeks in

 
                                                                           

     I must admit I feel a bit jaded four games into the NFL season with some of the changes on the field and the stuff happening off it. We have reached the quarter pole and there certainly have been some surprises from both teams and players at both ends of the spectrum since the kickoff.  The fumbled punts from the league office surrounding all the off the field shenanigans from Ray Rice, to Adrian Peterson, in addition to the Greg Hardy and Ray McDonald situations has been more in the news then the game on the field.  The first two situations are now about damage control and attempting to appease the masses and keep the bozos in Congress from sticking their noses in. Goodell has been as bad for the NFL as Stern was for the NBA by creating a product that becomes more difficult to sit and watch. The number of penalty flags decorating the field has gone beyond ridiculous, with the number of ticky tack fouls being called slowing the game and affecting the flow, though adding more review-able plays would allow for more beer and pizza commercials.  Per the usual corporate mindset, mahogany row always does what mahogany row wants to and the hell with everyone else who has bought at ticket: in other words like it or leave, this is what you get.

     The game on the field has definitely had some surprises, except for the Jets and the Raiders who have been and will remain clown cars with brief, very brief flashes of organization. The Cardinals and Bengals are the only teams undefeated at this point in the season which is rather unusual to have only 2 by this juncture.  The Cardinals appear to have developed a much tougher mindset the past couple of seasons and it will be interesting to see how well they can hold on to that. The Bengals have been here before and felt flat in the playoffs, only time will tell if this will be their year.

     The biggest surprise would have to be Dallas winning 3 of 4 and mowing down teams with their running game. DeMarco Murray has to be in the mix for MVP based on his early play. I didn’t expect Dallas to win more than 6 or 7 games given all the defensive issues that carried over from last year, plus losing a couple of defensive starters and their guys have stepped up and played well.  Another 3 up 1 down surprise would have to be the Texans, after only winning 2 games last year, though they may not be there if not for J.J. Watt and their defense.  Detroit winning 3 of 4 is a small surprise too, though they kind of should be since they have plenty of talent and it seems a new coach has helped get them moving together in the right direction.  Given the Lions history the past 60 years, great starts have often lead to epic implosions, however with the talent here these guys could definitely go a long way.

    From the other end of the spectrum the surprise team would have to be the Saints losing 3 of 4 and with that defense they are lucky to have won one game. A high school freshman football team could drop 30 points on these guys, they don’t tackle and there are way too many guys out of position.  Their supercharged offense has been nothing worth noting either, I see 8-8, 9-7 at best with this group. There are two of the ugliest teams at 2-2 based on preseason expectations; one has to be the Patriots with an offensive line that can’t keep the quarterback upright even when they are blocking 5 or 6 on 4 and a defense that can’t seem to stop anyone on third down. You can never count out a Belichek coached team; however it doesn't look like he has the horse this year to pull it off.  He is one of the best at making adjustments on the fly, so a candle of hope will remain burning impatiently in Foxboro, that Bill can right the ship.  The 49ers are the other team that seems to be fighting to get itself together after two 4^th quarter meltdowns. Rumblings have appeared on line that players are unhappy with the coach, though I don’t see him going anywhere anytime soon.

    The rest of the teams are about where expected, in a state of meh, with the expected bottom dwellers at the bottom and the middle kids being right where there supposed to be. The Falcons and the Colts should be fun to watch from what they have shown so far and both will probably have a few games that end with scores around 38 – 35.

    From a fantasy football perspective a lot of the expected studs have been duds, especially the running backs.  Adrian Peterson we know Is home watching day time TV, Jamaal Charles missed time, Eddie Lacy and LeSean McCoy can’t seem to get going and as mentioned before DeMarco Murray is running roughshod over people so far. So many teams are going with running back by committee that finding consistency from running backs has been so much a test of skill and more like a bit of luck. The top receivers have had their issues too; Calvin Johnson, Brandon Marshall and Demeryius Thomas have all been dealing with injuries and not in top form.  Steve Smith even at 100 years old makes Joe Flacco look like he can throw the ball and doesn’t look to be slowing down a bit.  Allen Hurns from the Jags pretty much has the “That Didn’t Help Anyone” award sewed up for the season after week one, I think that surprise performance will be tough to beat. I think Peyton Manning misses Knowshon Moreno more than he can admit; he’s still Peyton though not as Peytony. Brees and Brady have spent the first few weeks running for their lives and not shown us what we are accustomed to seeing from these two. I don’t want a witness from the congregation I want you to block someone dammit! Nick Foles obviously spent the off season learning how to throw interceptions, though with that offense he will be all right.  Aaron Rodgers finally looked like himself dismantling the Bears, though the Packers look a little unsteady. Meanwhile, Andrew Luck is steadily working his way to being poster child for the NFL. I almost forgot to mention to the top rookies QB's from the draft, Teddy Bridgewater and Blake Bortles, the early returns look like these guys can play and I hope their offensive lines can keep them from getting killed. Two of the defenses expected to be dominating, the Panthers and 49ers have not been, and the one expected to be tissue, the Cowboys, have exceeded expectations.  The Cardinals have played real well despite losing some starters from last year and are a mild surprise though Bruce Arians has got these guys playing together and playing tough.

     This season so far is shaping up to have a couple of 9-7 or 8-8 wildcard teams, as there is no team really dominating week in and week out and it wouldn't be a surprise to see a 9-7 in the Super Bowl.  The halfway point may be a better gauge as the inevitable injuries mount up and the teams that can adjust and have fill-ins step up will rise to the top.

     My jaded self has come to realize that football has been a fall tradition for me for so long it is hard to break away from it. I have the games on some Sundays as background noise while I futz around the house, waiting for the crowd roar to run to the TV. I sure I see more replays than real time plays some weeks. I started playing fantasy football 3 seasons ago after some prodding by my other half, and that has become more interesting than the games on the screen. Something wrong there I think. I’ll still watch with one eye at least, though I’ll be sure to keep a book to read handy and a pillow nearby for naps between play reviews.

    

                                                                            

     

Chromie and the Page Gnomes

If I didn't need another sign that Google+ is deader than Abraham Lincoln I still managed to find another one here. Well let's say maybe outdated. Might be time to move this collection of paper filled holes to another site. I tried to add some pictures to a post the other night and it kept failing, needless to say the air was blue in this office. There was this little ball on here that kept changing colors from red to yellow to green to blue and around again while I was trying to add my pictures. The message revealed when I hovered over it? It appears your have compatibility mode enabled. Not!, that's asking for trouble. A little more poking around brought me to a page that showed me the best browser for using this site. The little page gnomes made me aware that my browser is out of date and pointed out to me I should be using IE 9, 10 or Surprise! Chrome. I have IE 11. Facepalm. Lo and behold when I closed out and opened back up in Chrome I had no issues loading pics. I've tried Chrome here and there but was never a fan of it, the bare bones look for me was like buying a brand new Cadillac with manual window cranks. In the meantime I will keep on scribbling while I investigate another home for my musings, all the while with one eye peeled. watching and hoping the pages gnomes don't follow me.

The Week in Review cost me 5 cents

     We’ll it’s been quite a week. Professional athletes have been making the highlight reel after their game and the lowlight reel for some things they did off the field.  A rich old white guy in an expensive suit tried to convince those who were watching that the dog ate his homework, when in reality the dog didn’t exist and there really wasn’t any homework.  As the NFL’s crisis of conscience continues getting more and more convoluted while the jumbo sized boxes of Band-Aids are rolled out to face the problem head on, I’m left with a thought. 

     I hope that someone in a situation like some of these families are in finally decides for themselves that enough is enough and takes some steps to change their Life, no matter how scared they are. Walking through the internal fire of a major Life change isn’t easy, never has been never will be. There is support out there, though finding it isn’t always easy either. I was talking to a couple of my buddies out by the smokers tree at work today and came to the conclusion that it sucks that one has to be a part of the system long enough to know what angles to play to even get some of the most basic kinds of help; not get rich or just take for the sake of taking type of stuff, just enough to make it a little easier to live day to day.

     Major social issues are never fixed by throwing more rules and regulations at them. That just fuels those making the new rules with the audacity to puff out their chest and say see what I did, it becomes just another magician’s misdirection ploy, though it does give the mob mentality someone to hang in the meantime.  We all live Life individually, no one can think for me nor can I for them. Good thing isn’t it? Any major change occurs on an individual basis; you can’t throw a net over something so large and for a moment expect to be able to pick it up all at once.  It’s the individuals involved that make it happen one person at a time, not the big shiny stuff rolled out to collect accolades and applause, those are just there to polish egos and garner brownie points.  Change comes from the people working side by side with those that are trying to change their lives.  There are examples all around, you may have walked by someone in the grocery store today never knowing what positive changes had occurred recently for that person perusing the frozen vegetables.  The way I see it everyone is recovering from something, either their own addiction or the side effects of someone else’s.  It doesn’t matter if it’s booze, drugs, food, gambling, anger, sex, guilt-tripping, power-tripping, or cow-tipping, when they are essentially all about abuse in some way, over-indulgence to where they reach a point of getting in the way of living Life on a day to day basis.  Can we fix ourselves? Maybe. Will we fix ourselves? Maybe. Do we want to fix ourselves? Maybe.   That is just my two cents and with it currently costing 2.4 cents to make a penny I will now go to the back door and throw a nickel in the street. Keep the change.

Bye Ray, Take Roger with You

     The Baltimore Ravens released Ray Rice on Monday after the security cam video of him decking his then fiancé in an elevator was posted online by that paragon of journalistic integrity known as TMZ.Apparently the word from the Ravens and the NFL is they had never seen that video until today. Right, and I'm the friggin' Easter Bunny.


     The notion that NFL security and the Ravens team security was never allowed access to it smacks of absolute bullshit. If these security guys can't get their hands on stuff like this, which makes no sense to me, then they need to be replaced. Seriously, you want those of us with more than half a brain cell to believe that TMZ can get this video and league security couldn't? False. The entire situation was handled poorly from the start by the league and the Ravens and both are now backpedaling and standing behind the " We didn't know" defense. No na na na no, false. I have to give Goodell credit he is the consummate politician and marketing huckster, not since P.T. Barnum has anyone been able to stack bullshit that high. This guy needs to go. This was a whiff of epic proportions, way beyond any swing and a miss from the Bambino or Reggie. He hasn't been good for the league since he came aboard and the sour notes just keep playing a tune that rivals fingernails on a chalkboard.


     Anyone who has ever watched sports, especially the NFL knows that these guys generally are not choir boys. They basically are paid a lot of money to kick the crap out of the guy in front of them for 3 hours every Sunday. Granted these guys all live in a fishbowl, but the other 6 days of the week they have lives outside of work and like the rest of should adhere to the rules of society. Goodell is like the marketing guy that puts " New and Improved" on the packaging without changing a thing on the inside. Most of the fines and suspensions dished out the last few years have been about protecting the brand, and promoting the image of the league as caring about important issues like player health and personal responsibility, which ofttimes comes across as a misdirection ploy. The NFL has been and always will be run by a bunch of rich old white dudes, though one would think there must be one or two with a social conscience in there somewhere. Then again, I may be just a dreamer after all. By the initial consequences dished out by the league after this incident it essentially went on record saying that domestic violence is acceptable, now they are going to get tough after the public outrage. Hey Roger maybe you should suspend yourself for moral indifference. Anyone out there think this was handled well? Didn't think so.

Airheads & Egga Muffins

I just read that Longmire on A & E has not been renewed for a 4^th season and I’m pissed though not all that surprised with the state of the entertainment industry these days. Granted, fans like me of the show got 2 more seasons of Longmire than those of us who loved Firefly. Then again that was on the Fascists On Xanax network, so should we really have been that surprised?  As I remember A & E started out as the Arts & Entertainment network, though I think now it stands for Airheads & Egga Muffins, where we are treated to such gripping TV as Duck Dynasty & Storage Wars.  No, I don’t watch that s***, though I do see the promos for it when I fast forward through commercials on my DVR.  I really think the big execs in the entertainment industry see the majority of us a collection of morons. The “reality TV” that fills the airwaves is akin to a greasy burrito fart in a crowded elevator; you can’t get away from it; the endless promos show up no matter what you are watching. That type of show in prime time really got that engine rolling full bore when Survivor hit the airwaves. Is that still on?  The entire genre has snowballed out of control. I tried watching Jersey Shore once and couldn’t stop asking myself, “Why is this mess a TV show?” Maybe I’m a dinosaur, but I do remember when almost every show was only in black & white and TV was not very sophisticated for sure, though now it feels like we are regressing, to what I know not. I marvel, briefly mind you, at the offerings we gobble up as entertainment currently and wonder what is coming down the pike next. I’m sure TV execs are banging on the heads of their writing staff for a dazzling new schlock filled idea to draw on our collective addiction to living vicariously through our TV screens. I wonder, if the people we live with, and that includes ourselves, are we just not interesting enough anymore. How did we get so broken?  End of rant, time for a PB&J and a book.

 

 

 

Bears with Dingleberries

I saw a commercial the other night that made me question evolution. Not the argument between Darwin’s ideas and the Creationists. No I’m talking about something much less volatile though of vital importance to each and everyone one of us. What set my mind adrift in the sea of contemplative nonsense was the evolution in the marketing of toilet paper.  This is big, we all use it many of us have our own special names for it. Some of you know it simply as TP, others are more self -conscious and whisper the words bath issue like they trying to avoid anyone knowing they use it.  Sometime the direct approach can work best so I imagine the words shit paper causes anyone a moments doubt about its use.  Then there are the odd family monikers that are borne from simply sharing space year after year. Often no one knows why it was given its household name, and becomes similar to that crazy aunt who lives in the attic and can only be talked about in code when company is around.  Growing up in my house we called it sheet music, the origin of its birth name lost in the pages of time, though the name still stands as a testament to tradition if nothing else.

I remember my mom telling stories about being the 9^th of 10 kids a in small Connecticut town in the decades after World War I. “We had 14 rooms and a path with the Sears Catalog hanging from a nail inside the door of the outhouse.  When only the shiny pages were left us kids would race to the mailbox when the mailman came hoping the new catalog had come in the mail and then fight over who would get it first.” Living through that period of severe lack during the 30’s she developed an appreciation for “modern” things like automatic washers and soft toilet paper.  

After watching toilet paper commercials for many years I ‘m still surprised that it’s never called that on TV, instead it’s always bath tissue, which to me has always been odd because it implies it’s tissue you use for a bath.  Anyone who has ever had the misfortune of dunking an entire roll knows that you are left with a big wet useless wad of gloppy mess. I’m sure there are some of us who remember how well wet balls of toilet paper stuck to anything and everything in junior high, the only drawback of course was getting caught flinging it. I grew up watching Mr. Whipple feeding his toilet paper squeezing fetish and shooing away anyone else that tried to satisfy theirs.  After many moons of trial and error for softer, fluffier and more absorbent sheets we have finally graduated.  Now to hawk those sheets of softness we have bears with dingleberries. One shudders to think, what would Mr. Whipple say?