Wish

I don't care if you don't like Notre Dame, Charlie Weis, or football at all. This is a such a wonderful story that I felt compelled to post it.

Weis grants little boy's dying wish
Associated Press
SOUTH BEND, Ind. -- Charlie Weis doesn't usually let anyone else call plays on offense. He made an exception for 10-year-old Montana Mazurkiewicz.
The Notre Dame coach met last week with Montana, who had been told by doctors weeks earlier that there was nothing more they could do to stop the spread of his inoperable brain tumor.
"He was a big Notre Dame fan in general, but football especially," said his mother, Cathy Mazurkiewicz.
Weis showed up at the Mazurkiewicz home in Mishawaka, just east of South Bend, and talked with Montana about his tumor and about Weis' 10-year-old daughter, Hannah, who has global development delay, a rare disorder similar to autism.
He told Montana about some pranks he played on Joe Montana -- whom Montana was named after -- while they were roommates at Notre Dame.
"I gave him a chance to hammer me on the Michigan State loss, which he did very well. He reminded me of my son," said Weis, whose son, Charlie Jr., is 12 years old.
Weis said the meeting was touching.
"He told me about his love for Notre Dame football and how he just wanted to make it through this game this week," Weis said. "He just wanted to be able to live through this game because he knew he wasn't going to live very much longer."
As Weis talked to the boy, Cathy Mazurkiewicz rubbed her son's shoulder trying to ease his pain. Weis said he could tell the boy was trying not to show he was in pain.
His mother told Montana, who had just become paralyzed from the waist down a day earlier because of the tumor, to toss her a football Weis had given him. Montana tried to throw the football, put could barely lift it. So Weis climbed into the reclining chair with him and helped him complete the pass to his mother.
Before leaving, Weis signed the football.
"He wrote, 'Live for today for tomorrow is always another day,"' Mazurkiewicz said.
"He told him: 'You can't worry about tomorrow. Just live today for everything it has and everything you can appreciate,'" she said. "He said: 'If you're (in pain) today you might not necessarily be in pain tomorrow, or it might be worse. But there's always another day.'"
Weis asked Montana if there was something he could do for him. He agreed to let Montana call the first play against Washington on Saturday. He called "pass right."
Montana never got to see the play. He died Friday at his home.
Weis heard about the death and called Mazurkiewicz on Friday night to assure her he would still call Montana's play.
"He said, 'This game is for Montana, and the play still stands,'" she said.
Weis said he told the team about the visit. He said it wasn't a "Win one for the Gipper" speech, because he doesn't believe in using individuals as inspiration. He just wanted the team to know people like Montana are out there.
"That they represent a lot of people that they don't even realize they're representing," Weis said.
When the Irish started on their own 1-yard-line following a fumble recovery, Mazurkiewicz wasn't sure Notre Dame would be able to throw a pass. Weis was concerned about that, too. So was quarterback Brady Quinn.
"He said 'What are we going to do?'" Weis said. "I said 'We have no choice. We're throwing it to the right.'"
Weis called a play where most of the Irish went left, Quinn ran right and looked for tight end Anthony Fasano on the right.
Mazurkiewicz watched with her family.
"I just closed my eyes. I thought, 'There's no way he's going to be able to make that pass. Not from where they're at. He's going to get sacked and Washington's going to get two points,'" she said.
Fasano caught the pass and leapt over a defender for a 13-yard gain.
"It's almost like Montana was willing him to beat that defender and take it to the house," Weis said.
Mazurkiewicz was happy.
"It was an amazing play. Montana would have been very pleased. I was very pleased," she said. "I was just so overwhelmed. I couldn't watch much more."
Weis called her again after the game, a 36-17 victory by the 13th-ranked Fighting Irish, and said he had a game ball signed by the team that he wanted to bring to the family on Sunday.
"He's a very neat man. Very compassionate," she said. "I just thanked him for using that play, no matter the circumstances."

Just some stuff

I've given the recent Ohio State loss some time to sink in and I think I have my thoughts straight now. No longer am I fueled by the emotion of the moment or the pork chops or keg of beer. Three things bother me about the game and I will try to be brief:
One...A platoon system at quarterback rarely, if ever, is successful. I know there had to be a few quarterbacks in history that shared duties and did just fine, but I can't think of them.
Two... It's first and goal. You are OSU. You line up three times from the shotgun?!? This is the Big Ten, baby! This is where true football is played. You line your horses up and say, "Try to stop this" You don't dodge the fight.
Three...I read today where the OSU tight end Ryan Hamby (no relation to Erik or Heather) is getting "hate mail" from fans after he dropped a wide open touchdown pass as the Buckeyes went on to lose at home and essentially squelch all hopes of playing for the National Title. When he did it, I and another person at the same time said "And Jackie Smith has to be the sickest man in America", in reference to the famous broadcast of the '79 Super Bowl where Smith, from Dallas dropped a sure touchdown from Roger Staugbach and go on to lose the game to the Steelers by 3 points.
Listen, it's just a game folks...right? If I had Ryan's address here is what I would write
"Dear Mr. Hamby,
Your dropped ball in the biggest game of the college football season was only overshadowed, ultimately, by your team's inability to win. You are getting paid a fine salary while we should also not forget to mention your lucrative scholarship deal and your "loaner car" program provided by your greater Columbus auto dealers (wink, wink). Your dropped ball sent a shooting pain into my gut as I felt like I got kicked by a rabid venomous mule. I don't believe you should be getting hate mail. That is unfair. However, I do feel that you should have your tires slashed once a week and every time your name is mentioned it should be followed by a shower of "boooo"
Sincerely,
My team never wins"

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Scam alert! Body wash is nothing more than liquid hand soap in a fancy bottle that says "body wash" Don't let 'em fool ya'! It would be no different than if I poured some Palmolive dish soap in a bottle labeled Herbal Essence or something. It's all the same stuff, man! I think Procter and Gamble makes it all in one giant brass vat...takes a little out and throws some coloring in it and, bingo...you've got hand soap/shampoo/body wash/etc...

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Listen, I sincerely like Oprah. I really do. She is a self-made success and carries herself well and is somewhat attractive. She's helped thousands of less fortunate and does a lot of "good". But let me give you a rundown of nearly every Oprah Show:
Person with some problem sits on high backed chair. Tells the crowd his/her problem as the producer in the booth sprinkles in a few crowd shots (consisting primarily of some red-eyed housewife wiping her nose and slowly nodding that "you poor soul/we're with you" nod)
Person with problem then says something to the effect of "but I'm gonna beat it....or....but I just keep trying....or....I'm gonna make it. You'll see" Producer pans back into tight shot of another woman with tears streaming down her face as she gives the "everything's gonna be all right" look. Oprah looks into the camera and explains she's just like all of us, except for the fact that she's worth 50 katrillion bajillion dollars.
But I'll bet Oprah is a fun time. I'd like to go out with her if she ever asks me.
Note to self: Must eliminate Stedman
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Sophia has recently started pre-school and my post work ritual of picking her up when school lets out has begun. I always enjoy this time of year because this is when I get to scope out all of the mothers. It is also a time where I make wagers with myself about the following "how many of these dames will actually talk to me this year?". I do an over/under game. It's still early, but I'll say out of 20 ladies, I am looking at an "under 4". Now let me say this, 90% of them are really nice people. Really. Let me set the scene for you: Thirty seven mini-vans parked near the door. I pull up in the truck and park 30 miles away. They should be running some sort of shuttle service for me. I stroll up fresh from another day at my horrific, life-sucking job. I couldn't stick out more than if I had been dropped off by a squad car shackled up in an orange prison suit. As I get closer I hear "what did you do today?" and one of them will usually say "oh, not much. Kinda hung around. Was just tired...lazy day", as I think about my wife who drives 200 miles a day and schedules her appointments to be there to take her kids to school.
But these few moments of uneasiness are immediately erased when that door opens up and Sophia (now...Anna before) dashes out with arms wide open. It might as well be a tunnel she's running through because I see or hear nothing else but her. It's such a great moment that I've gotten to re-appreciate after the summer off.
*and for the record, the ladies are actually very nice and don't treat me half as bad as I put on*
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Gotta go. Please be sure to check out my Previous Posts. You think you hate this site now, wait til' you read more!

Football Is Upon Us

I'm sitting here at around midnight on a friday night and was thinking, "d'ya know why I'll never be a great writer?" The obvious answers include, but are not limited to, my complete lack of punctuation and the fact that I wouldn't know a run-on sentence from a past participle and a little thing called "formal training". But instead I realize that the main reason I'll never be placed in the pantheon of great writers is how I look. No, not physical body features or anything (exhibit A: Steven King...he looks like a rejected zoo monkey with a couple of coke bottles shoved in his eyes sockets...but that somfabitch can write some damned words now!) As I sit at my cluttered desk I realize that I am wearing nothing but a ripped-up sleeveles Nike shirt and some ratty shorts from '97. Occassionaly I will take a huge gulp of chocolate milk and often scratch south of the border. Great writers would be sitting upon an overstuffed, riveted leather chair at an old manual typewriter with a giant bowl of brandy by their side. Not me. I swear, if for some reason every writer in the world disappeared overnight and people turned their lonely eyes to me for literature, the first book I published would have a full picture on the back jacket cover of me in a cardigan sweater with elbow patches, smoking a meerschaum pipe as I gaze into the distance with a pensive look on my face
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Has anyone noticed that Nick Lachey has been doing a lot of sports shows lately? I've seen him on discussion panels and being asked for his picks of the week. Now many may say, "What the hell is he doing talking about sports?". If you know me, you might think I would say the same. But I gotta' say, I think it's kinda cool. Let's look at the facts: He's from Cincy, he seems like a pretty good guy, he knows what he's talking about...oh!...and he's currently shacking up with some incredibly steaming hot babe. (if there are any doubts about the said hotness of his wife, please refer to her video for the Dukes movie. I've spoken about the "POW" factor before...when you see someone like her and just say "Pow!"...much stronger than wow, closer to holy crap, but just below Geeeezusss Krrriiisstt!) So, good for him. You know, he and I are a lot alike. We both have beautiful wives, love Cincinnati sports teams...and....well, I never sang in a boy band or slept with Jessica Simpson and I wake up and go to a job each day that I simply deplore and have the life sucked out of me for 8 hours 5 days a week. Yeah, we're a lot alike. (a lone tear streams down my cheek)
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The approach of 9/11 is coming soon and, without bringing down the "show", it just amazes me how life-altering that day was for all of us. No words could ever describe. But on a completely different subject, and much lighter I might add, the 11th also marks the second day of what I consider to be Football season. See, Saturday night is the Ohio State vs. Texas matchup. Sunday is the Bengals opener against the cleveland team. This is the start of football for me because OSU openers don't really mean too much to me. Whoopdee doo...Miami of Ohio, or BG, or some other mid-major. But Saturday! Look out. I'm so excited that I have already applied the eye-black to my cheeks and taped my ankles. I'm giddy with anticipation. To make things better, our good friend Gene (proprieter/operator of Geno's Bar and Grill) has decided to open his establishment much earlier in the season than usual to mark this occassion. Thinking about it...I've never had a bad time there, so no wonder why I can't wait to get back. (Geno's among many other events, marked the place where I enjoyed one of the greatest sports moments in my life. It was the Ohio State National Championship vs. Miami (of Fla.). Without going on too much about the intensity in that room that night, I have to say that I'll never forget that feeling I had in the last minutes when the Buckeyes missed their final opportunity and how I just hurt because AGAIN, my team failed. But wait! A flag. Another chance. They convert! Final seconds, Miami fails and the clock is at zero and I remember the room erupting in sheer craziness of people hugging/jumping...I fell to the floor and people fell all around me as the noise was deafening in a tiny bar in a barn in the middle of the country on a cold, cold January night as a handful of good friends celebrated a common victory. There is so much more in that memory than just the win and it's something I will never forget.
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For fear of jinxing my team, I will not make my usual prediction this year as I have the last couple. No, I'm not saying the Bengals will go 15-1 or "14-2...conservative". It doesn't work and only accomplishes the goal of making me look more of the horse's ass than I already am.
In related news, I stepped down from my long tenure as Commissioner of the JFL (J-Bird Fantasy Football League). I started it on my own in 1999 and ran it up until a few weeks ago. I ruled with an Iron Fist from Suite 83 in the JFL Headquarters in downtown New York, but it was time to move on. I just don't have the time or the desire to go through with it this season. But if you have never done a fantasy football league, do yourself a favor and try it. It will make you concerned for the stats of the freakin' Arizona/Seattle game that you would otherwise give two shits less about.
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Donnie Baker and "Morgan Freeman" call in skits on Bob and Tom radio will invariably make me laugh...no matter what! "It was the longest night of Andy's life..."
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Here's a murphy's law moment for you. If you spend a lot of money on a big ass mower, it will never rain again thus eliminating the need for mowing and that new mower sitting in your garage.
It actually has rained a little bit lately and I gotta say my rig gets er done. I can cut a 40 yard long path in 4.2 seconds (I raced Darryl Green, formerly of the Redskins and smoked his butt). It sounds like a freakin' sikorsky when I engage the blades. Oh sure, I may be a pathetic fat loser, but my mower makes me feel really good about myself. *coming soon to a Dr. Phil episode near you*
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The theme is again football. If you haven't seen the Nike Football commercial "I Promise", please check it out here....http://www.nike.com/nikegridiron/index.jhtml?ref=www.nike.com#promise
Not to be a reminiscent sap, but football has so many memories to it that always stay with you. Mostly, for me, are the sounds. As in the commercial I just mentioned, there are a few there that just take you back to very specific moments. There are times when it is exceedingly hot out and excessively dry...and the humidity makes the air so thick...there is this smell I get and it always takes me back to the second session of a two-a-day practice (for those who don't know, you would practice for a few hours in the morning, take a short break, then put all of your wet, sweaty pads back on and go at it for another couple of hours) where the grass has turned to dirt and you wonder why you do it. But another memory comes back as I think about walking down from the locker room preparing to run onto the field. I felt sick to my stomach but incredibly hopped up. Like a gladiator about to do battle. But I'll never forget as we made that slow walk to the gate hearing the band march. No, not the marching band...but the music they made as they marched getting louder over the sound of our cleats on the gravel drive. It was just the drum guys and, I think, the xylophone (can that be right? did they carry a freakin' xylophone in a marching band? Anyway, it was the bell sounding thingy) Again, not to be like Uncle Rico (from Nap. Dynamite) but it is and always will be one of those things that always stick with you.
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I watched The Last Samurai the other night. Let me say this, for as much as a farged-up cooky crackpot that Tom Cruise is, he has made a few good movies (such as a few good men).
Three Cruise movies you gotta see if you could only see three:
**#1 Top Gun :no brainer, one of the greatest movies of all time.
**#2 Collateral: would be #1 if there were no Top Gun. He's a freakin' badass in this movie. Intense and Jamie Foxx is good in it. (the soundtrack includes a song called "Hands of Time" by the Groove Armada, find this song and listen to it. Incredible)
**#3 I'm not sure now that I've started my list...but you have to mention these as really good movies (at least that I liked) Few Good Men, The Firm, Minority Report, and Born on the 4th of July
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Shouldn't trees be free to anyone who wants them? On the same note, why the hell should a three foot baby tree cost over a hundred bucks? Something doesn't seem right about that. Probably why it cost 2 bucks for a bottle of freakin' water. **Which reminds me, if you want to see a great comedian, see Jim Gaffigan...he does a bit on water that is perfect**
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Allright, I'm done for the night. Remember, there is a plethora of dated, mindless ramblings located in the Archives section (below the previous posts area) on the right hand side of this site.

London

Hello again everyone. We recently returned home from our trip to London. Had a great time. What a neat city, with nice people and incredible scenery. I'm not much of a "city" person, but it was different there. It was like we were in a totally different country or something...oh yeah, we were. What's most notable is the age of things over there. Just a random statue in a park can be dated at, say, 1750. And that is relatively new! Heck, this was before America was America.
Our first day there, we walked around and tried to familiarize ourselves with the place. I mainly was looking for British chicks to talk to because, honestly, any girl with an accent is pretty cool. Southern, English, Australian, whatever...I think it's neat. That evening we went to the Natural History Museum for our Welcome Night. The entire place was just ours as ADP (the company that sent my wife and me there) rented the whole thing out. We could walk through any of the displays while grabbing anything we wanted to eat or drink. I opted for the plates of cold beer and the smoked salmon (i consumed large quantities of each...hey, they're free) This grand, royal looking band marched down the large stairways to the floor we were on and played music...but what really intrigued me is the amount of sweat that must have accumulated in every nook and cranny underneath those heavy, ornate costumes.
The next day we took a tour of the city aboard a large motorcoach that was reserved just for us. It was very interesting as we often parked and wandered around some great landmarks such as St Paul's Cathedral (where Di and Charles got married), Kensington Palace (where that Di chick lived), and The Royal Albert Hall (Now we know how many holes it takes to fill the Albert Hall...a line from A Day in the Life by the Beatles). One of my favorite parts of the entire trip was our tour of Westminster Abbey. We weren't allowed to take pictures inside, but it was really amazing. There are hundreds of people buried in the floors of this place, mostly folks of great importance to Britain..and the very wealthy, as well as Kings/Queens and a memorial to FDR "“A faithful friend of freedom and of Britain…”. You'd walk along these corridors upon carvings of those beneath you from the year, say, 1580 or something. Incredible. We were told of a large bomb that fell directly through the large dome in the middle of the church. Dropped by the Germans during the Blitz, it ended in the lower regions of the place...but never exploded. It was removed and detonated in a field where it created a massive hole. Talk about Divine Intervention I guess.
We wanted to see a "show" in the famous and historic theater district. One night we saw The Lion King at the Lyceum Theater (originating in 1765). Another night, we went to Her Majesty's Theatre (opened in 1705) to see Phantom of the Opera...which I have now seen 5 times. Me likey. We often listen to the soundtrack at home...does this make me queer? Afterwards we went to an outside cafe near Piccadilly Circus and sat and enjoyed a few cold lagers, then walked home through Trafalgar Square on our way back to our hotel..which was the London Hilton, near Hyde Park and Mayfair. Also saw Big Ben and Parliament...where it is required that I must say each time, "Look kids! Big Ben, Parliament...I can't get left!!!" from European Vacation. Classic. Took a ride on the Eye of London, **pictured** which
is a massive ferris wheel that takes you on a great view of the city. It never stops moving and takes about 30 minutes to make a revolution. Each car holds about 25 people and is very clean and nice. Visited Buckingham Palace where they have the Changing of the Guard every other day. The day we were there to witness it, it was raining...so they cancelled. Wankers!
On Saturday, we took a train to Paris, France. The train reached speeds of 185 mph and we went under the English Channel through the "Chunnel". We were underground for about 20 minutes. What a smooth ride. Never been on a real train before and I liked it. You could stand, sleep, stretch out, walk around. Much better than flying.
We took a tour of Paris and, like London, saw many buildings marked from bullets and bombings. Amazing to think about what those countries went through during that time...and how America came in and kicked some ass. We went to the Louvre and were stunned at the absolute size of the place (said to be bigger than the Vatican). Saw the Mona Lisa. Very cool. Of course, being a Davinci Code fan, it was a real thrill to actually picture some of the book while walking through it. It would probably take a week just to get through the entire place.
Later that day, we felt obligated to find a sidewalk cafe and eat. The menu said they had some le poopie au de flambee avec goobledeegookie blah blah blah. It's like those people have a different word for everything over there. We managed to point and muddle through some words and ordered something halfway edible. Since we were there, again we felt obligated to have some wine and dessert. Not bad.
All in all, Paris was o.k. It's kinda' like Hoover Dam. Amazing, spectacular, historical, and awe-inspiring...but once you've seen it, you don't really feel the need to travel that distance to see it again. Plus, French people are smelly, pompous assclowns. *Foreigners really do smell bad...not the Brits, though*
On the last night, we went to the going away party held by ADP called Club ADP. It was in a neat place that looked like a cross between a castle/hotel conference room/and MTV set. They put on a great party. Of course, there were trays upon trays of cold beer. This time, it was good ol' Budweiser and once again, it was free. Which reminds me of a great quote by my wife one time when we were at an open bar at a ballgame. She said to me, "Just because it's free doesn't mean you have to drink it all". So wise, yet it's hard to pass by when, for example, you have to pay $5 bucks for a beer down with the Joe Punchclocks of the world. You feel like you're just trying to break even. It's just good financial sense, I say. Anyway, at the party they had a guy who looked like Austin Powers and sounded just like him too. That just makes me laugh thinking about it. He introduced a band that was pretty darned good and they played a lot of British rock stuff (Stones, Who, etc...). Very cool. Unfortunately, we went to bed our last night at 2:30, then had to have our luggage ready for pickup at 4 am, then leave for the airport at 6 am. Kinda' rough.
I have to say that we've now been to Hawaii, British Columbia, and London as well as short trips to Vegas, Miami Beach, and Chicago...all on ADP's dime. And these people take incredibly good care of you and shower you with gifts. You don't touch your luggage, transportation awaits you to and from everywhere (when we arrived at London, a dude with a silly hat and a sign with our names awaited us to whisk us to the hotel in a little Mercedes van). Money is given to you for the week, tips are already taken care of, the travel department's staff is extremely professional and very very nice. It's super sweet. I thank my wife for busting her ass at her job to earn these rewards so a sluggish turd like me can live the high life for a few days. Thanks dear, now get your butt out there and sell some crap! Trays of free beer await me!

Just more stuff...

Well, I've been trying to think of some important topic or funny story to share with you all. And you know what?...I'm drawing a blank. First, I would like to thank all of you who have been reading my site regularly. In fact, it is exciting to me to know that others are checking me out. It's also a little scary. But the good thing is that it makes me more motivated to sit and turn out this mindless drivel.

Funny words: Once in a while I get a word or phrase stuck in my head and can't get them out. Here are a few recent ones: stipend, congruity, pivot table, kevin federline, montage, jumpin' jehosaphat, and Gadzooks!!! (three exclamation points are required by law to follow that word)
Funny saying I heard: He's happier than a monkey in Bananaland.

We have a floor fan going in our un-air conditioned house. It is required that I must walk up to any fan and say into it "Luke. I am your father" ala Darth Vader. So I do that. A minute or two later, my daughter Sophia walks up to the same fan and says, "Luke. I am your brother. Duhhh!" and quietly walks away.

I could tell you that the other day, I was on my way home from work. It's early afternoon and it's about 95 degrees out. I look to my right and see a guy in a freakin' pith helmet mowing his grass. You may recall, if you are a loyal reader of this site (all two of you), that I am mesmerized by the whole pith helmet thing. I wrote about it earlier when speaking of the US Postal Service and their use of them (and I will again note that I hate the postal service...use email, phones, faxes, telegraph, maritime flags. Anything to bury the postal service and their civil servant-laden ranks of slack jawed..well, slackers. If postal employees had shovels to lean on, instantly city, county, and state road crews would no longer be the butt of laziness jokes).
Anyhow, this guy is in his ditch with his pith helmet on his head. But to top off the entire ensemble, he was wearing khaki shorts and a khaki shirt. I totally expected to see a lion jump out of the weeds or perhaps a Range Rover full of sightseers come into view. For a minute I thought I was at Animal Kingdom and this was one of the groundskeepers.
But it all comes back to this simple question: Who wakes up in the morning and says, "You know what? I think I'm going with the khaki on khaki today...and....Yes! The ol' helmet"
****See stock photo of man in pith helmet...what a goober!

Watched a good movie the other day called Garden State. It was a friday night and it was rather late for me...about midnight. I was flipping through the channels looking for anything good. So I stop on this one channel where a guy is sitting in a doctor's office filling out paperwork and this blind lady's dog quietly slips away from her. The dog instantly walks up to the guy filling out papers and starts humping his leg. I don't care who you are or where you are from...that is always funny. Perhaps the only time it isn't funny is if you are the "humpee". Which reminds me of a great line from a "Vacation" movie. Cousin Eddie's dog starts humping Chevy Chase's leg when Eddie says "Aw Clark. He's got a little Mississippi Leg Hound in him. Just best to let him finish". Classic line.
I watch a little bit more of it because it has the guy from Scrubs in it (Zach Braff..who also directed it) and I like him. But quickly I noticed the movie wasn't a comedy after all. It was part romantic, part drama, part comedy. In other words, it was a ChickFlick.
Naturally, you would think that I quickly turned the channel. But it must have been the soft, intoxicating glow of my warm television flickering on my tired eyes because I couldn't turn it. In fact, quite morbidly, I was waiting for it to start sucking. But that moment never came.
These are the types of movies that win awards and I typically avoid. I've learned that the more nominations a movie receives, the more reason I don't want to see it. See, me and The Academy don't really agree on what makes a movie enjoyable. In fact, it's not about "enjoyement" with them. It's about "art" and "their craft". Here's how you get your movie nominated for an award: A) Be very disturbing B) Make the viewer uneasy C) Be very serious D) Get a beautiful actress and make her ugly. You will then be nominated.
My criteria? Easy. A) Make me laugh B) Give me an hour and half to two hours of enjoyment C) Gratuitous nudity.
Really though, it is a great movie. I didn't know who the heck Natalie Portman was but in this movie she was (and I have probably used this word twice before in my life) "adorable".

That's all I have. If anyone has some feedback or ideas, please let me, or my publisher (hardy har har) know.

First Pitch

Well, I recently was able to check off one of those "listable" things in life. I'm sure we've all made a checklist of stuff we want to do before our short time on this earth is gone. Some may have lofty goals such as finding the cure to some disease, or perhaps helping those in need. Or maybe it consists of being adventurous or traveling to different exotic locations. Whatever it is, it is always a significant moment when that thought that had been bouncing around in your head and dreams for some time actually becomes reality.
One little task that I always thought would be neat would be to throw out the ceremonial first pitch to a baseball game. Of course, my original plan included me being begged to do it because I was either a famous athlete, President, or some other glamorous position. My dreams didn't involve me emailing a guy several times begging them to allow me to do it. But I'm willing to look past that little fact and focus on the fun part.
The date was July 9th, 2005. I was to be at the ballpark at 6:15, 45 minutes prior to gametime. *Side note: If you know me, I prefer to be at a game at least an hour and half before scheduled start time. I have a rule that I usually follow...If I'm gonna miss the national anthem, then I'm not going. I once went to Boston for the last Celtics/Lakers game in the old Garden. I was there at 3:30 for a 7:30 game. That was a little extreme (especially considering the weather) but one needs to surround himself with the environment. You don't just hop off the train at Wrigley and pop in for the middle of the first inning. It's wrong. It's embarrasing. And it should be punishable by law. My "getting there early" pays off. I was once able to watch Cal Ripken field ground balls...I managed to stand on the green parquet floor of the old Boston Garden while Elden Campbell (he was a Laker, therefore I hated him) shot free throws 15 feet away from me...I once shook Steve Stone's hand before a Cub/Phillies game as Lenny "Nails" Dykstra, Kruk, Incaviglia, Duncan, and Jim Fregossi stood about 10 feet away**
Anyway, it's always nice to see how caring and thoughtful people are when an event like this comes along. For example, I'd be willing to bet that 30 people, in the days leading up to my moment, said things like "I'll bet you bounce it" "Don't bounce it to the catcher, fag" "You better scoot up so you don't bounce it". Very encouraging.
But I entered the night trying to maintain the same boastful demeanor that I had when I originally realized that I wanted to do this. It was a warm summer night a few years ago and I was sitting next to my friend and fellow season-ticket holder Jake Hawkins. We had seen a dozen first pitches by this point in the season. However, we both noticed that nobody really gassed it up there. They all kinda' lobbed it. Shortly after, we began booing first pitches because they were generally blase' and lacked any of the excitement that the beginning of our National Pasttime warrants. I vowed that if I ever got the chance I would saunter out there, reach back and give it all I had. And, much like my email to a Dayton Dragons representative, I boasted about how exactly I was gonna' do it if I ever got the chance. "I'm not scared"
By chance, that same Dragon's rep replied to my mail and asked when I wanted to do it.
My mouth dropped to the floor and that swaggering bravado that I once posessed went out the door like a fart in the wind.
So my day came. 8,000 plus fans packed into the friendly banking confines of 5/3 Field...Home of the Single A Cincinnati Reds affiliate Dayton Dragons.
I was taken underneath the stadium and through it catacombs and eventually to a hall where the sunlight poured in. To the light and up the steps and I was standing in the dugout. The dream of playing professional ball is something that I am not able to check off my list, but this is as close as you can get to it.
I stood at the top of the steps and leaned over the top rail like I belonged there. Looking out onto the field I felt the previously unfelt nervousness creep in. It's that excited, nervous, worried jitters that one may get before a game...and for that moment I felt like one of the team. I watched guys tape up their bats. Shook hands with the hitting coach, Chris Sabo. Yes, the 1988 NL Rookie of the Year! I had a lot of time to just look around. My wife and kids were there (Ava's first baseball game!!!), and a lot of my family and friends as well as quite a few co-workers.
They announced my name, rolled out a red carpet, put my name and image of me on the jumbo-tron and I took the long stroll to the foot of the mound. I looked into the catcher, who earlier gave me some good advice. He said, in his deep Texas draw, "It's better to throw it high, than throw it low"...obviously a reference to the fact that he didn't want some liquored up bozo (me) bouncing the ball of his precious nuts.
So, I take the ball and look in for the signs, he flashed me the "number 1": Fastball. I jokingly shook him off, knowing that I didn't have the guts to try to snap off a curveball and risk it actually bouncing my catchers important parts. I nodded "yes" and started the full wind-up. It was midway through the throw as my left foot planted that I thought to myself, "I'm getting old..this doesn't feel like I remember the last time I pitched" (which was in 92 against Otterbein College). But as different as it felt, something about it felt right too. For that one split second, I was winding up in front of a packed house, with my wife snapping pictures, friends video taping it, my family and especially my daughters in the stands...and it all felt really good.
All in all, it was a great day that I had been excited about for a long time. And as we stood for the national anthem and looked out on the pristine field of green, manned by the boys of summer, there was no place I would have rather been
Oh, and for the record, it was a strike.
***I wanted to include this email from a good friend of ours, Eddie...enjoy:
Mike, I would like to introduce myself. My name is Shady McSlimey and I am an up-and-coming sports agent. I happened to be in town looking for new talent when I saw you at the Dayton Dragons game last Saturday. I was very impressed with your composure under extreme pressure and would like to talk to you about the possibility of joining our team here at McSlimey & Assoc. I am sure that you have been deluged with offers after your rare display of poise and power. Before you sign with anyone I'd like you to talk to a few of the people I currently represent and hear first hand how I've changedtheir lives. Not to sound braggadocios but here are just a few of the elite athletes and stars in my stable. Danny Amonte', Ryan Leaf, TimCouch, Tiffany, DavidKlingler, Mr.T, Eve Plum, Buddy from Buddy's Carpet, Mark Aberrantly( TheKool-Aid Pitcher guy),and my newest signee...Roof-Man of the DaytonDragon's! I know you have the same potential as any of these house hold names. Please contact me so we can begin to change your life forever!
Sincerely, Shady
PS: I hope I'm not showing all my cards by sharing this with you but if you sign before August 1st I'll provide you and your family with a free rental car for the weekend of your choice (Economy or Mid-Size, yourcall!).......*This offer not valid inCalifornia,Nevada,Pa.,Florida,Texas,Mississippi,Washington,Iowa or any otherstate where I have been prohibited from doing business by that states Attorney General*

Wednesday Advertisements

So, Wednesday night I got home from playing 18 holes of golf. Nobody was home so I sat on the couch and turned on the tube. King of Queens was on, so I started to watch. The show just started so I was excited that I didn't miss much. Later, the first round of commercials started to play. The very first one was for Coke. It featured the old "I'd like to buy the world a coke" tune, but this one was different. I looked up and much to my surprise was a familiar face looking back at me. Featured in this commercial was my favorite band, G. Love and the Special Sauce. The tune was, naturally, funktacious and good. I was pumped.
Follow the link and look for the title "Chill": http://www2.coca-cola.com/presscenter/av_advertising_viewall.html
I have this feeling of happiness for the band because I feel like I "discovered" them. (which couldn't be farther from the truth, as they were around many years before I first heard them) In any regard, I still have followed them a lot. Purchased all of their cds (including some rarities via eBay), travelled to Cleveland and Cincinnati once, Columbus twice to see them and also have "tivo'd" a couple of their appearances on t.v. But I feel good for them because, for one, I think more people will tune into the band and find that there is some great original and different music out there beyond what we are allowed to hear today. Secondly, I feel like I got in on the "ground floor" in regards to, what appears to be, their imminent success. Much like the feeling I will have in late January as I stand at Ford Field (site of this year's Super Bowl) or more likely, in front of my television, with a tear in my eye as the Bengals are handed the Vince Lombardi Trophy...knowing that I am being rewarded and validated. The endless screams of "Whhhyy" and "What the F*** were you thinking?" as I stand in my garage listening to the games of season's past with baseball bat in hand and shards of whatever it was that I just took a swing at in my fit of rage will all be washed away.
So, on with my wednesday night t.v. story. Again, I'm all excited with the commercial and still basking in the warm glow of my friendly television when the next commercial comes on. It's for Chase Financial whatever. Basically this: Man is doing financial planning for his family's future. His Daughter (about 5-9 yrs. old) is nearby. Her wedding is closer than he thinks. Commercial is full of "flashbacks" of young daughter/current soon-to-be-wed daughter. Final scene, newlywed daughter asks dad for dance, as he walks to the floor it transitions into him walking with what was once his little daughter.
As a man with three daughters, I sat there quietly until a finally took a big gulp and swallowed that giant lump that had been rising in my throat. Listen, I have little money and my financial plan is based on trying to decide on whether or not to buy the cheaper canned beer or splurging on the bottles...but I was nearly ready to take out all of our money and call the Chase Financial guy. I asked myself "what is this salty discharge coming from my eyes" (paraphrasing Seinfeld).
But suddenly, my quiet time had ended. I looked out the window to see my wife and kids pulling up. It was too late, they were in the door faster than ever before. The wife stopped...looked at me and said "What's wrong". I immediately jumped up, held up my hand and said "Nothing! Allergies! Pulled a nose hair out. Bit my tongue" and I was out of the room as quickly as they had entered.
Once my composure was regained, I went to Chase's website. It was the only way to explain my little episode. Remarkably, amongst the painful drivel of "mortgage lending" "financial goals" and other financial goobledygook, I found that very advertisement.
I clicked on it and prepared it's viewing for my next subject. I called in the wife and had her sit. I pushed Play and walked out of the room. 30 seconds later, I reappeared to find my wife in a tearful mushy ball of emotion. Ha HA! I thought to myself. At that point, I found no need to explain my earlier reaction. I simply said to her, "See?".
Here is the link to that commercial (look for the title "wedding" and chose your preferred video player) http://www.jpmorganchase.com/cm/cs?pagename=Chase/Href&urlname=jpmc/about/adv_chase

New Addition

Many of my faithful followers of this world famous web log have already heard the news through various sources (People, ET, Hard Copy) but I wanted to officially announce the arrival of Ava Kathleen on June 20th. She popped out about 1 pm with a full head of dark hair. She's a real beauty and seems to get prettier every day. I believe it was Broadway Joe Namath that once said "I can't wait for tomorrow because I get better lookin' every day". She has to be thinking the same thing.
Of course, now the male species is an even larger minority in this house. Zeke and I are the only ones with testosterone racing through our bodies. But I feel good about being a minority (although the white male is the most persecuted being in America...don't argue). Now I have excuses for my stupidity or apathy. I can now say that I didn't get the last pork chop on the platter because "the womenfolks' is holdin me down"
In all seriousness, I feel extremely lucky to have what I have. I am fortunate to have three healthy, beautiful, smart, and lively girls in my life and now there is no doubt that Little Miss Ava is quickly becoming the fourth.

Some thoughts...

Hello once again, faithful readers (all two of you). I recently lost a major supplier of readership when my buddy, Dean, decided to shut down his website that had my link on it. If you are here now, you obviously are a huge fan and followed me anyway...or you are merely related to me and feel that you are obligated to stop in occassionally to avoid the awkward situation when I ask you, "Have you been to my blog lately?". I have a sinking feeling that you are more the latter than the former.
.........I was thinking the other day...Do you think mommy and daddy earthworms fret over the day when they have to explain to their offspring the "birds and the bees"? "Well Little Billy, you are asexual. A hermaphrodite. See, you gotta do this here...and then this to yourself....". I guess when you tell an earthworm to go F*** himself, it's probably an odd situation.
......... Are you like me...are you sometimes thrilled by the misfortune of certain others? For example, think of two of the biggest jerks in sports: Barry Bonds and Kellen Winslow. Bonds, who undoubtedly is on steroids, is injured and will be for some time. This makes it hard for him to beat Babe Ruth and Hank Aaron for most homers ever. All I'm saying is this, Babe played in monstrous ballparks, was an out-of-shape sloth with absolutely no off-season training and he was able to hit taters practically anytime he wanted to while downing a steady diet of brats, beer, and cigars. Bonds says, "I didn't know what that substance I was injesting was". Sure, Barry. This, coming from a guy who has thirty personal trainers, built like a wrecking ball, and monitors calories/carbs/etc...and he didn't know that those injections he was getting was steroids! Bonds is a jerk. Winslow, on the other hand has two things going for (or against) him. Primarily, he is a Cleveland Brown which ranks him in the Pyramid of Life just below perineal shmegma and a kick in the crotch (if they were actual living organisms). Secondly, he injured his knee riding his new motorcycle. Apparently, he purchased the bike shortly after watching some stunt bike show. Somewhere, Evel Knievel weeps.
.........Lots of good music out there, you just have to look for it. Lord knows you won't find it on "normal" mainstream radio. You could listen to NPR which occassionally has some good tunes. But, in the meantime you will have to listen to their incessant ramblings about how evil anyone is that isn't either a A) Hippie B) College teacher C)Homeless D)Social Worker E)Yellow Springs inhabitant F) Hollywood Actor-type or G) Bleeding heart liberal. Also, for every great new artist that you haven't heard and liked, you suffer through songs like "Bongo Beat 16" by The Republic of Chad Symphony or "Zither Melodies" by some goofball that recorded it in the back of his van, located down by the river. Nevertheless, I can't listen to most radio anymore because if I hear the following songs one more time, I'm gonna jam pencils into my coccyx: Layla, Pride and Joy, Old Time Rock'n'Roll, Schools out for Summer, Rock n Roll all night (party every day). These songs make me cringe. Don't get me wrong, I love Clapton, Stevie Ray, Seger, etc... What bothers me is that these artists have an entire catalog of great music, yet we are relegated to years and years of the same crap.
But I digress, I'd like to thank my no-good-brother-in-law for turning me onto a band called Dispatch (among others). I'd say they are a little bit of funk/reggae/folk. However, they are neither a little bit country, nor a little bit rock n' roll like our friends the Osmonds.
I have a hierarchy of bands that includes masters of the likes of the Beatles, Zeppelin, etc... But I have to say my favorite band of all time is G. Love and the Special Sauce. If I was ever a groupie, this would be for whom I'd "group" for. I've seen them about 4 times now and would see them again if they pass this way. As I've said before, just three guys pumping out some big sound. The drummer plays some jazz-type funky beats, while the bass player plays the ginormous stand up bass and looks like he just clocked out of his shift at the JiffyLube. G. Love plays the harmonica and guitar. I can't classify them other than to say they mix to perfection Blues, Funk, Rock, Folk, Rap and Jazz (and I truly think most Jazz is terrible..a bunch of guys just banging around playing scales and people think they are brilliant). The greatest concert I've ever seen would have to be last october in cincinnati. Standing there I was in between goosebumps and footstomping. I literally gritted my teeth because it was just so so so good. I know I'm not explaining it right, but there's nothing better than hearing that perfect song or sound and just letting it "move ya'". They are awesome. Speaking of good music/shows, I recently just bought another DVD of a Norah Jones concert. This one is good but not as good as an earlier one from the House of Blues. I don't care if you like her music or not, you will love to see her play. In a word, I'd call her "effortless". She's so smooth, innocent, and sounds fantastic. Considering all of those factors, this makes her very attractive. She obviously didn't write Tennessee Waltz but I would put money on it that her and her band perform it better than it has ever been done before. Again, goosebumps. Also, Jack Johnson has a new album out and it is very good. Oh, and check out a dude called Amos Lee. Very good. People call him the female Norah Jones which is a compliment, I feel...but we all hate labels, now don't we...you bunch of jerks! (kidding) Family members, I would love to share it with you some time. Please let me know.
.......The day of the birth of our third child is closing in. I'm very excited about this. We don't know what it will be. It seems like everyone finds out the sex. That's fine, that is their choice...but I feel it's one of the last great surprises in life. I can't help but to think of that moment when it is born. When our children were born, the doctor told me "Daddy, you tell your wife if it's a boy or a girl" I think they did this because they wanted to give me the false feeling that I played an important part in the process (other than the very beginning...and we are waiting on the lab results to confirm this). With our second kid, I expected it to be a boy. When that moment came to proclaim to the world if a boy or girl had been born unto this world...I stopped and stuttered. Where's the "thing", I wondered to myself? I had to take a second look, as the room collectively held its breath. "It's...it's...It's a girl??...Yeah, it's a GIRL!" Great day.
........Why must the name Larry Bird be such a bad name to name a boy? Even I admit it would be hard to snuggle up to lil' Larry. Oh well...the search for names continues. I'm leaning toward "Benito", "Sammy the Bull", "Keith", "Vladamir", "Lamaaaaar", or "Wilhelm (pronounced Vilhelm).
For Girls, the frontrunner is "Lequisha Chantelle", "Desiree" (put your hands together for Desiree!), "Hillary", "Penelope", "Maria Rodriquez DiRossario". I don't know...they are all so good.
............One of my favorite shows right now is Curb Your Enthusiasm. Admittedly, I got into the show late, but I really like it. Larry David (creator of Seinfeld) is absolutely great. There are so many memorable shows. If you don't watch it and see where the show Seinfeld got its greatest contribution, then you're blind. Not to liken myself to the genius and creativity of Larry David, but my wife, during every episode, always says "You are Larry". For instance, he hates the "stop and chat" and goes to all lengths to avoid having to stop and talk to someone you run into. I do that. You just have to see and maybe you would see the similarities. Quirky, one would say.
...........It appears that my wife is in line to win, nay, earn another trip for her outstanding work. This time it is to London, Eng-a-lund. I will vow to each and every one of you that I will say the following phrase at least 5 times a day while across the pond: "Hello, Gov'nuh". I plan on walking across the crosswalk at Abbey Road (with my shoes off) while uttering "I buried Paul" (or "crannnnberry sauce"). Someone called me "limey" for going. If by limey they mean the crisp refreshing taste of lemon-lime, then limey I shall be! Actually, my main objective while over there will be to bring forth and teach the wonderment that is Oral Hygiene. I'll be standing on the back of a flatbed truck tossing out floss, toothbrushes, and paste to the clammoring masses looking much like Oprah throwing out shoes and books to needy villagers of some lost tribe somewhere.
......... I plan on going to see the new Star Wars movie. I didn't see the last one, mostly because the one before it sucked ass. Now, the first three? Top-notch. But I'd like to experience it on the big screen and bid it farewell. My wife told me something to the effect of "yeah, have fun with your light saber you nerd". Then I gave her a kidney punch and whipped her into the figure-four leg lock. Feel the burn, sucka!
..........Movies: Saw Friday Night Lights recently. On the J-Bird Rating scale (1-10...and if I have to explain that 10 is the highest, then you are an idiot), I give it a 5.5. Not a bad movie. Just "okay". One scene that I really liked was when they were walking down the tunnel to the field before the championship game. If you didn't get a chill, then call the morgue deadman.
I viewed Napoleon Dynamite again. Still funny. I give it a 7.6 on the J-Bird Movie Rating scale. I can't even begin to explain it, other than it has a quality that I appreciate in a movie...stupidness for the sake of laughter. Simple, yet not done enough to suit me.
Saw "Ray". Technically, a wonderful movie. Well done, incredible music, and sensational acting. Having said that, I like to view my world through rose colored glasses. I like to picture Ray Charles as a sweet ol' guy who pumped out some of the greatest music EVER. I feel the movie focused 9/10 of its contents on his drugs/womanizing. Still, good movie. I give it a 7.9
..............Television: I still think the hottest chick on t.v. is Jamie Gertz from Still Standing. She's this decades "Elaine" from Seinfeld to me. I flipped through and saw Pam Anderson on some show. Say what you will, but that girl (fake or not) is built like a brick shit house with metal swingin' doors. One word, folks "POW!" If you see a girl and say "POW", it's a good thing. "Whap" or "Wham" doesn't get it done. But "POW" sorta just says "Good lord, yeoowcch!" I want to bite my palm like Lenny and Squiggy or, like that old cartoon dog, stamp my feet, whistle, and howl. It reminds me of a time I was with Rosey (and our wives) at a bar and some woman walked by that was just amazing. Even the girls would admit that she was "put together". Rosey, never willing to hold back his emotion, just stomps his foot on the ground, throws his shoulder back and says forcefully "Geeezuuuuss Chhhriiisssst!!!!" And you know what, nobody questioned it or felt it was out of place. I kinda' admire that.
If you can, try to catch Cheap Seats. It's on espn classic. It's much like Mystery Science theater but to the setting of cheesy sports shows. Follow this link, you can get a little glimpse by clicking in the upper right-hand corner to see a short video of the show. http://www.cheapseats.tv/#
Could there possibly be more wasted channels on cable? If I see that old nun with the eye patch again, I'm gonna jab fondue forks into my own eye. There should be federal legislation banning home improvement shows on the Learning Channel or Discovery. Stick to bugs, animals, ancient pyramids. Forget the redecorating and home-how-to's. Leave that to Lifetime (following a very special episode of "You're Not My Mommy" starring Meredith Baxter-Birney)
Allright, my kids are home. My 30 minutes of solitude has passed. Enter, stage left, the rambling loudness of my wonderful daughters.

Whatever...

It's been a while since I last made an entry into the "blog" In fact, the last time I did so, the Buckeyes had just won their bowl game, snow was on the ground, and the wonderfully warm thoughts of spring were nothing more than a distant desire. Ahh, but now spring has arrived. It's funny how one's mood, and the mood of others around you can change for the better once the sun starts to shine and the mercury rises. The wife and I recently went on a trip to Chicago (through her work) It was very nice. One thing I like about these "little" trips is that they are short in duration..usually 2-3 days. I'm a "get-home" guy. I like going places, but I enjoy even more being home. I'm famous for it with some of my buddies. They know if we all go somewhere that when the event is over, I am ready to go right now. Anyway, being away from home for a few days with your significant other is a good thing. Adult conversations are a rare thing when you have two children around and one must cherish the opportunity when time allows. We walked down the Magnificent Mile in Chicago. Busy sidewalks, tons of people, beautiful spring weather...but, being in a big city also means you have your share of crazy-folk and homeless. As we were walking, this crazy lady came walking towards us talking loudly and rambling about something. Before I could write her off as a crackpot loonie person, I had to pause a second and think...maybe she's on a cell phone with the hands free mic talking to her freakin' accountant or something! Who knows. As she wobbled by (and I realized that in fact she truly had more than a few screws loose) I told Katy that "cellphone technology has instantly made crazy people seem a little less crazy"
Another thing that has been bothering me lately is the United States Postal Services use of the "pith helmet". As you may know, I have no compassion for the USPS. For one thing, they use civil service exams to hire people. That's a big clue. Plus, I almost had to rumble with the postmaster in my town because of the location of a mailbox. Long story short...mine keeps getting smashed by snowplows and baseball bats. I simply moved it out of traffic, yet still allowed Joe Postoffice the ability to still sit his fat ass in his car and lean out to deposit my mail. I essentially made his/her job easier because of the way I located it. Anyway, Cletus at the local post office denied it and...and he was shitty about it too. He told me their schedule was too busy to drive the extra 2 feet. I answered back that it must be a terribly difficult job sitting on your can 4 hours a day driving a car around some back-country roads. I also wondered that it has to hard to find the time to deliver mail while they are stripping/cleaning their automatic weapons which they will later use to shoot up the sorting room staff.
Anway, back to the pith helmets. If you're not familiar, a pith helmet is one of those hard-shelled helmets that one would typically find on an African safari or maybe an archaelogical dig. If you went to Disney right this minute, there would be a whole staff of college kids in khaki shorts and shirts wearing pith helmets at the Wild Kingdom attraction. What concerns me most that at some point in the long history of the USPS, someone made an executive decision that permitted the use of pith helmets. "Ok, we've got the blue pants with dark blue stripe (also in short length), we've got ski caps for winter as well as baseball caps if you want 'em. Now...about my other idea. Who thinks we should order pith helmets?" Was there, at one time, a rash of postal injuries that resulted from lion attacks? Were giraffes dropping leafy greens from their mouths onto unsuspecting letter carriers who were just trying to do their damned job? A pith helmet has to cost a hell of a lot more than a baseball hat to manufacture. Plus, what about storage space? I could store 500 baseball hats in the trunk of my car...but I'm willing to bet that I couldn't fit 25 pith helmets in there.

Buckeyes Win...show the love

I'd like to speak to you all for just a minute about a bittersweet feeling I have at this moment. It has to do with the Buckeye's win...nay, their Dominance last night in the Alamo Bowl versus Oklahoma State

I will start. My evening started like usual, care for kids, cook dinner, wash the dishes, collect eggs, and run a load of laundry. Typical fare. Of course, all of this is being done while my wife is burrowed in the den holding three phones (literally), the fax machine working double-time, and ADP stock flies through the roof. But I don't mind, I was born to be a housewife.
Later, I get a phone call from a great friend who asks me to join him in watching the game. Soon after, my daughter reminds me of how I promised her I'd take her sledding and, after reviewing local weather reports and seeing the thawing/rain on the way, I figured it best to get that done.
My story now brings us to this point...I'm laying on my couch exhausted after the 10 minutes of physical activity that I try so strongly to avoid saps the life out of me. We went to the levee where I once was crowned King of the Peaks due to my abilities on the toboggan. I once took my chevy to the levee, but the damned levee was dry, but that is another story for another day.
I watch a Buckeye team come out from the opening gun and completely smash the crap out of Ok State. I say to myself "They are a baseball school". I see Simon Frazer drill a guy on the sidelines **side note, wasn't Simon a key character in some of our Ohio History books from jr. high? He sounds like he founded a small township or settlement back in 18 something or other** I see the greatest linebacking corp (someone challenge me on this) in recent history blow guys up on every play. After every hit, I yell at my television's warm inviting glow, "Welcome to the Big Ten, baby". Even Trev Alberts (who is an outspoken Buckeye-hater) said that OSU was impressing him and kicking ass. WoW. That's like a muslim cleric coming out and saying, "I think Christianity is a groovy kinda' religion, Communion for everybody!"
I was fairly pleased with the frank and honest conversation with Lee, Mike and Kirk about Ohio State's recent problems. No sense in ignoring it. Ignoring it would only make it more uncomfortable sorta like when you're having a serious conversation with someone and they have giant twig of lettuce sticking to their chin or something. So they did a good job with it. Done, right? Wrong. The voice over proclaims, "Coming up at halftime, there will be a 8 hour expose on the Buckeye Football program complete with charts, graphs, Clarret quotes and transcripts of federal wire taps."
But, this is where the physical activity from earlier in the evening comes into play. My eyes grow heavy as my hands slowly slide into their "sleeping position" located inside my warm underwear. Once this happens, after about 3 minutes of scratching, I am seconds away from total REM-sleep.
This morning I awake pretty certain that the Buckeyes hung on to win. But then I think, most teams I root for have shitty luck. So I get a little nervous. I slip on my fuzzy peach slippers and quickly find my new nightgown (it's got a cute little bear montage on it..darling) and skamper into the computer room. I click on espn.com expecting to see a picture or a bold-typed headline, I scan the screen. Instead, I see a picture of ..hell...I don't know...Warren Moon..I mean, someone that isn't even "in the news" and hasn't been for at least 5 years. Over to the side where the little headline clips are, I see the first listing. It doesn't say "Buckeyes dominate in win" Or not even a cute little "OSU over OSU". The headline was basically "Buckeyes in trouble. AD lies..blah blah blah". I click on it, hoping to find a score and somewhere in about paragraph 12 it mentions the Buckeyes win.
Now, I know I live in a country where the liberal mamby-pamby media force feeds us political correctness, tries to impose their hidden agendas, and basically pussifies us. But when I can't get a good honest recap of a Bowl game from a site dedicated to sports, then I get a little perturbed. Am I wrong? Is anybody with me on this?

Anyway, allow me to step off my soapbox.

Wilford, Roy, and Petey

What's up with Wilford Brimley and why is he so pissed off at me for considering purchasing my diabetes medicine at a drugstore? Oh sure, he wants me to mail into some program he's promoting.
Man, he's just plain mean about it now. Anyway, I always will hold him in high regard after his portrayal of "Pop Fisher" in one of the greatest movies ever, The Natural. He was absolutely brilliant. I love the exchange when Roy Hobbs is hurt and comes back to the locker room. Pops is shaving and talking about how he should have been a farmer. Roy saunters up and said that he wanted to be a farmer too...blah blah...trust me, it's pure movie magic. But I love when Pops says "you're the best goddamn hitter I ever saw". Awesome. By the way, if you don't get goosebumps when Roy hits a tater off the clock in Wrigley after the "lady in white" appears..OR..if you don't have tears in your eyes after Roy hits a game winning rocket into the lights as his teammates all dance in the shower of sparks....well, you're a damned idiot and you need your pulse checked.

As for baseball, today it was announced that some of the candidates available for voting into the Baseball Hall of Fame would be Wade Boggs, Willie McGee and Darryl Strawberry....uh....what the hell? Did I just hear "Strawberry"? You have got to be freakin' kidding me. Let me give you his rap sheet:
Strawberry was suspended from baseball in 1995 and 2000 for testing positive for cocaine and in 1999 following an arrest on a possession charge. He served 11 months in prison in 2002-03 for violating probation on a cocaine possession charge.
Pete Rose is permanently ineligible for this honor and has to be reinstated very soon or his chance will forever be lost. Pete Rose is not smart...he is not a great personality. In fact, some say he's a big giant ass. But Pete Rose was a baseball player. Pete's biggest drawback was that baseball was first and foremost in his life, it was all he really knew and all he lived for. The man's nickname is "Charlie Hustle". Take away gambling and there are very few bad things you can say about Pete. Yet, he is banned for life for gambling, an act that Major League Baseball is against except when The Ohio Lottery wants to plaster a 30 foot billboard onto the centerfield wall.
I leave you with this decision....would you rather your son or daughter bet a hundred bucks or so on a sporting event or have him/her spend time in jail for cocaine possession charges. To me, it's a no-brainer.
For Pete's Sake, put him in the Hall of Fame where good baseball players deserve to be.

Random Thoughts

The Thanksgiving holiday is over and there are a few random thoughts running through my tiny little mind. In no particular order, here they are:
Went to Michigan for Thanksgiving. Started our journey wednesday afternoon while pulling our camper. About an hour into the drive, my truck suddenly veered right, then left. I looked into my rearview mirror while saying "oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" and noticed the trailer was basically by my door. I was jack-knifing all over the road. I went down into the middle a little where my camper then went onto two wheels. It was pretty freakin' scary. Luckily I was able to save it. It's the closest I've ever been to having a major accident and the closest I hope I'll ever come. Immediately after, I was so pumped up. My heart was racing, my wife was crying but all I could think was "damn, that was some great driving!" It wasn't until about a half an hour later that I realized how close we came to serious trouble...then I worried. Needless to say, I limped back home and left the trailer there. I don't know why there was nobody beside me at the time of my near spin-out, but someone must have been watching over my girls in that truck.
Once at the "cabin" (the next day) I was a little more relaxed. I went hunting that evening. We were all clear to shoot "anything brown" and I was ready. It had snowed the night before and the woods were absolutely beautiful. Fresh, clean, crisp. It's amazing how in tune with your surroundings you become when you are sitting 30 feet in the air in a tree stand. Your ears become your best tool and you hear absolutely everything. At first, every time a bird lands on a tree within 50 feet of you, you think it's a deer coming up. When a small puff of snow falls from a branch and lands on the ground, you expect to look up and see this monster buck. What's neat is that none of that happened. There were a million sounds and no deer to be found when about an hour into the hunt you start to daydream and become careless with your careful movements. It was at that time that out of the corner of my eye I saw a doe walk down the path. My heart started racing. (so much for that finely tuned listening that I mentioned earlier) I slowly grabbed my gun in anticipation of that deer walking into range. The deer gingerly made its way into the clearing where I could begin to think about shooting. But I then made the decision to not shoot. Instead, I stood there and watched this beautiful creature cautiously make its way to the bait pile of sweet potatoes and corn about 30 yards away from me. For the next 45 minutes I did nothing but enjoy the show. I was so close that when the deer went for some corn, I could hear her mouth crunching it. Soon, she made her way right toward me and walked directly under my tree stand. I coulda' spit on her!
It was really great. Don't let me kid ya', if an 8 pointer walked in behind her, I would have taken a shot...I guarantee you that.

I saw a comedian the other day and I was reminded of what she said while on the way home sunday. I never really "got" the whole sun blind thing that people put in their car windows to block the sun from their children's eyes. This comedian mentioned that "god forbid that we allow our kids to have sun shine on them!" So true.

People are talking about Brett Favre's 200 consecutive games streak (when he starts on monday night) and how impressive it is. What a great record...and I love Brett. He's an absolute stud and probably one of the top 3 quarterbacks to ever play the game (somebody please argue that with me...I dare you). Instead of appreciating it, sports folk decided that we should compare it to Cal Ripken's streak 2000 plus games. First of all, it's apples and oranges. Secondly, you are comparing a streak that I am sure neither athlete would dare try to diminish the other one's. Understandably, it is now football season and the NFL, and college football for that fact, are King...much bigger than baseball in America right now. What surprised me is the overwhelming votes for Brett's streaking being Greater. Football is far more dangerous, no doubt. Quarterbacks take more blindside hits than anyone. But Ripken's streak is incredible. 162 games a year 1982 to 1998...not to mention post season and pre-season games, spring training, etc... Yes, Favre plays a violent sport and plays through incredible injuries and his position demands that he be the leader on every play, but Ripken played in 2500 plus games with injuries too. I would take Favre as the qb on my team in a heartbeat. But at the same time, I would have Ripken as my shortstop (also the leader of the team) on my all time team.
Let's just say that both are two of the best at their sports and go with it...without diminishing what either of them have done. p.s....isn't it good that we are talking about two athletes like this? The topics are "heart" "desire" "leadership" and "guts" instead of brawls that spill into the stands, someone dropping their towel on the Monday Night Football intro and arrests...this is good for everybody.

Finally, how can Michigan be in the Rose Bowl? What's more, how can they be mentioned in the BCS picture? They got beat by a mediocre Notre Dame team (who played the toughest schedule in the nation this season) and then get DESTROYED by a less than mediocre Ohio State team. It doesn't add up.

Oh, one more thing. WHO DEY?!?!?! Actually, lost in all of the hype over the Bengals victory is how they can give up 40 odd points to the Browns who aren't exactly an offensive powerhouse?
P.s....I love the Bengies uniforms despite what others say. They look great!

The Fall Season

Hello all,

It's been nearly a month since my last posting. I'm hoping with the onset of colder weather some of my activities will slow down a little and allow me more time to do meaningless stuff like this.
The Fall softball season is winding down as tournament season starts up. For some reason, we were scheduled to play 3/4 of our games with a starting time of 9:15 pm. I don't know about you, but at 9:15, the last thing I'm thinking about is dragging my fat butt out of the house and preparing for a game. Also, if you factor in that after our games we are required by state law to stand in the parking lot and discuss strategy, this makes for a long night. Our strategy sessions typically last about 2 minutes with 1 minute of it talking about how great I played (jokingly). An hour and a half later, we decide that we should get home. This led to our epiphany as to why we were scheduled to play so late....because the director knew we'd be the last ones to leave anyhow, so why not just schedule them at the end???
Even though playing ball gets a little old after a while, I still look forward to getting together with the guys. I feel like a school kid being let out for recess...the doors open up and you just run and laugh and be stupid. That's about what happens in our games. We get together and laugh, goof around, crack on each other and just have a great time. The game is secondary. We still play very well even though we had our two season unbeaten streak broken early this season. Teams are starting to catch up with us. I'm pretty certain that it isn't them getting better but, instead, us getting a little slower and probably a lot less serious. I have to say that we win a majority of our games with defense and great execution. I truly believe that other teams envy our ability when it comes to situational defense, lining up cut-off throws, being in proper locations, etc... What is really neat about it is that since we started (in about 1992) we've done with a "homegrown" team of guys who all went to high school together. What's more, we are all close friends off the field. I've never seen a team that could boast that. We started our first few years getting thumped on a little. Spent a majority of the next years dominating...and we are now in the "Fall Season" of our illustrious softball careers. And while we are starting to lose our edge a little, I don't think there are too many more teams around that get the respect we get. Mouthy teams are a lot less mouthy when they play us. This is partly due to the fact that we have a few guys that wouldn't mind mixing it up a little bit, but I think it is mostly because we are able to just blow up and score 15 runs in an inning.
I've been a part of some huge games. Seen a "Perfect" game thrown by Mark Rose. 9 batters. The tenth batter was running late and hurrying to get his shoes on and get loose. No need. He never got to hit. I've never seen that happen before. We've played guys with watches and jeans (to which it is mandatory to ask the guy, "What time ya' got?") and we've played state champs. We won the Ft. Loramie tournament which, to us, was the biggest thing around. Why? Because drinking beer was demanded of your team and they served mushroom burgers. The organizer would call us the month before to confirm we were playing because they had to order a truckload of burgers for us. I've seen one of our guys hit 5 homers in a game..each farther than the one before it. The last at bat, the outfielders were gathered in centerfield leaning against the fence talking...the ball launched 10 rows deep into the cornfield behind them. We won the championship there one year and it really felt like the freakin' World Series. Mike Rose took a pitch (that looked like a strike) to make it a full count. With the bases loaded and down by three, he deposited the next pitch over the fence and onto the road. Game over, championship won! Our prize. A warm 12-pack of Shaeffer Light beer.
Best beer we've ever had.

Food Worries

I was sitting here at my little lunch break thinking of really important issues. Like... when they have the nutrition facts on the back of a package, why are the Serving Sizes always so odd. For example, on a bag of Cheetos, the serving size is "about 21 pieces". About? If it's "about", why not just round it down to 20. Why 21? Also noted is that the serving size is "about 2". If my math is correct, and there's an excellent chance it is not, then that means there are 42 Cheetos in this package.
But, let's get to the heart of the matter. What is a Cheeto, really? Is a Cheeto a finger length sprig of dangerously cheesy goodness, or rather a knuckle-length morsel which brings on a severe case of cheesgasm? I don't know. Is it really necessary for the Frito-Lay Co. to label the bottom of the bag "Cheese flavored snack"? Was there a big board meeting where all of these high level execs sit around a large mahogany table and decide, "We need to let the consumer know that this isn't actually cheese, but instead, just cheese flavored snacks!" When three of the first five ingredients are Ferrous Sulfate, Niacin, and Thiamin Mononitrate, I'm gonna guess that this isn't a wholesome cheese snack derived from some fine wheel of cheese somewhere.
While we are talking about food, I think we need to talk about cereal for just a moment. In this day and age, when you always get a little less of the things you need in return for your hard-earned money, how is it that when I eat Raisin Bran and/or Lucky Charms I am bombarded with an unproportionally high amount of Raisin and/or Charm? I gotta tell you, Raisin Bran without the raisin is just plain Total. When I get a nice raisin in there, well, it's like a party in my mouth. But just like any party, you only want a few of your close personl friends. You don't want to open the door and have your biker buddy and his 56 member posse trailing in. You need some order! Just like Lucky Charms, I can't enjoy the magical deliciousness if my mouth is scraping through too many marshmallow treats. It's like eating packing peanuts with a few toasted oats thrown in. If you owned a cereal company, wouldn't you skimp a little on the "extras" and stay a little heavy on the filler? I would think! Apparently, this is the reason why cereal costs $4 freakin dollars a box.
I don't know. I think we need some federal legislation to straighten things out in the snack and cereal industry. Someone has to get a handle on the madness!

Good Luck, Steve

At this point, I feel like I should start to post some very worthwhile things. Yet, I really don't have anything new and exciting to say. I could go into a long talk about how I went to the grocery this evening...yeah, that works!
A friend of mine, Steve, is retiring from work tomorrow. We are having a little carry-in lunch for him (this is the reason for the late night trip to the grocery). He's really a great guy who always made me laugh somehow. I can recount at least 10 different stories through the years of him doing something crazy at work that I'll never forget. The smokebombs under peoples cars...the Chevy Chase-like falls during company meetings. Walking around the off-site facility in his underwear, pretending like he didn't know you were there, talking on the phone telling the "other" person how hot it was over there and if he could "just get a fan". We've had a lot of great talks through the years. We've had a few good battles too. This is a man who skips his lunch to stop by your house to drop off a card for your newborn baby...all while wearing a doctors mask, for effect. Just a really good guy. I'll miss him much. Happy Trails, Steve and I know you'll enjoy your retirement.