My mother called today sometime between meetings for CIT BK Monitoring and BoA Pending Purchase Process. I hadn't spoken to her in a while, and I didn't know when I'd have a chance again so I flipped open the phone and answered.
Hello. How are you? Good, how are you? The niceties of the conversation concluded, my mother paused. Uncle Jimmy passed away she said.
Great Uncle Jimmy, to be exact. I can't say that I was particularly close to him. I saw him on holidays and for special occasions. The last time I saw him? I think it was at my brother's wedding in 2005. When Ciocia Stasha was still alive. That's Aunt Stella for all you non-Pollocks.
Jimmy Burns. Of Irish heritage. Born in the mid-1910s. I don't know much about his childhood; I don't even know where he grew up, though my guess would be southern Connecticut. I do know that he attended school at St. Thomas Seminary. But, that was rather common back in his day; there were significantly more people involved in the Catholic formation process back then.
He wasn't priest material. Instead, he worked and concentrated on his voice. I regret that I didn't get to hear his enjoyable tenor tone, at least in his prime. According to my grandparents, he had a beautiful voice. Oh, and he was a clothes horse. As long as I knew him, he always dressed... dapperly. (Is that a word? Had to look it up. It is.)
He got married. Well, that's how I'm related to him. He met the second to youngest Podgorski girl, named Estelle, and married her in the late 50s. They had two children, Greg and Donna.
That catches you up with as much as I know about his history.
I met him in 1977. Or I suppose I should say that he met me first since I had no idea what was going on at that point. As I said previously, I saw Uncle Jimmy on holidays. Christmas and Easter to be exact. The family would converge on my grandparents' house. Uncle Henry. Ciocia Manya (Aunt Mary) and Uncle Johnny. Uncle Jimmy and Ciocia Stasha. Greg and Donna and Donna's date. Grandpa and Babcia. Uncle Mark. Uncle Dennis from time to time. Great Grandma. Mom, Dad, Richard. A full house to say the least.
When I think of Uncle Jimmy, I think of a bleach-white skinny bald-headed man with a unique voice and an opinion about everything. From football to politics to walking down the street, you knew the conversation wasn't quite finished unless he'd had his two cents.
Strangely, though, that's not how I'll remember Uncle Jimmy. Not for his music as many will. Not for his opinions. Not for his clothes. Not for the fact that he scared everyone to death driving his boat of a car into his 90s. No, what I'll remember is the post-holiday dinner lull. The men retired to the den to watch football for Christmas or golf for Easter. The women crowded into the kitchen to squawk and clean. And we kids would find something to pass the time.
But Uncle Jimmy would move from the dinner table to the living room couch where he would take an afternoon nap. Shh, everyone said, Uncle Jimmy's sleeping. To be honest, I don't think anything could have disturbed him as he sat there on the couch with his eyes closed. The most peaceful I'd seen him.
The last time I saw him? At my brother's wedding, as I said. It wasn't a remarkable meeting. I most likely shook his hand and exchanged a few pleasantries. Told him about Seattle. He retold a story or two. And that was it. Now, I hope he is at peace after a long, full life.
Goodbye Uncle Jimmy...
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Monday, September 29, 2008
I'm Sailing! I'm Sailing!
I don't think we're going out this weekend, Mark told Joseph, the weather's gonna be crappy. And so, Joseph and I were disappointed that we wouldn't get to go out sailing with our friends.
Our friends, yes. Mark and Sam. We met Mark first through softball. He's on our team, the third baseman. Well, one of the third basemen - Joseph's the other. Sam, we met later. Again, on the softball field. Sam coached the Rockets; I coached the Buzz. The Rockets beat us twice. But not by much the second time. That's another story.
Mark and Sam had invited us to the Mariners-Yankees game earlier in the year. The one where Brandon Morrow allowed one hit in his first outing against the Yankees. One of the many games that the Yankees lost this year because they couldn't seem to get the bats moving. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and agreed that we should do more 'stuff' together. Mark suggested a trip on his boat. We showed our enthusiasm.
It was a matter of synchronizing our schedules. Not this weekend. Nope, not that one. We're away. Joseph's walking. We decided on September 21st and kept our fingers crossed. It's fall, after all. And as some of you who've read a previous entry know, fall's about the rain in the northwest. Weather becomes hit and miss. 9/21? Miss.
We thought it was our last chance. Then comes the weekend that summer forgot to give. Sunny. mid-70s. Mark looked at the forecast and sent Joseph a message. Hell yeah...
We arrived at the Elliott Bay Marina with chips, dip, and beverage in hand, ready for our jaunt around the bay. We found Mark and Sam readying the boat for departure. A beautiful boat. I couldn't give you the proper dimensions so I won't try, but when I went down the stairs into the boat, I could stand up straight, always a good sign for me. Not that I stayed down there for long. It was too beautiful to stay below board.
We pulled around to a guest spot and awaited our mutual friends Rusty, Grant, and Troy. A full boat. Not overfull, but full enough. Sam at the helm. Mark as first mate. We the passengers. And before long, we were underway.
We traveled, as I said, around and within the bay. A little geography lesson that Sam taught us. Elliott Bay extends from the lighthouse on Alki Point (West Seattle) to the lighthouse at Discovery Park (Magnolia). At the border of the bay begins Puget Sound.
We began the trip heading towards the city. Admiring the architecture. Showing each other where we work. The food came out rather early on. And the beverages - a Cape Codder my drink of choice. The chips and dip went over well. But not as well as the goat cheese, blue cheese, salmon spread, and crackers.
Another treat too. Grant's mother had sent him caviar. He'd never tried it. I'd never tried it. And I know Joseph hadn't. I told my friends - while Joseph was sunning himself on the bow - that he wasn't particularly adventurous. So, when Joseph came to the back, they told him it was a type of jam. He scraped it across the crackers and tasted. As quickly as it entered it exited into the bay. Giving the fishies back their eggs. Not a fan. We laughed.
I tried 'em too. I liked 'em. Figures, I said aloud, that I'd have expensive tastes. Rusty turned to me and told me that I just knew how to appreciate the finer things in life. I chuckled.
We continued to enjoy each others' company. Talking, laughing. We came across a white buoy with sea lions atop it. We whistled, talked to 'em. Someone was calling 'em kitties. A little off, but then again, so were we. We took pictures. At some point, I'll get some of the pics uploaded and show you. For now, you'll have to take my word for it.
After our first loop around the bay, Sam asked me if I wanted to take the helm. I initially declined telling him to ask me again. I don't know why. Perhaps because I was shy. And a little nervous. But I was intrigued.
After a time - and after Sam and Mark had worked to ensure that the sails were secured, Sam gave me the helm. I zigged a bit at first but righted the ship - literally - and piloted the boat under Sam's watchful eye. During that time, I discovered that Sam was a Marine, that he's a Coyotes fan (hockey) and a Diamondbacks fan (baseball). I haven't followed hockey in a while, though I enjoy going to see a Thunderbirds game once in a while. We found that we shared a good amount in common. I had a good time talking to him while the others sat up front.
I yielded the helm after I began to lose concentration - more from drink than from disinterest. And we set back towards the marina.
I was awesome. And I hope to do it again. Hell, I hope to own a boat someday but I'm not holding my breath. We disembarked and went our merry ways. Tired, but with tales to tell.
Our friends, yes. Mark and Sam. We met Mark first through softball. He's on our team, the third baseman. Well, one of the third basemen - Joseph's the other. Sam, we met later. Again, on the softball field. Sam coached the Rockets; I coached the Buzz. The Rockets beat us twice. But not by much the second time. That's another story.
Mark and Sam had invited us to the Mariners-Yankees game earlier in the year. The one where Brandon Morrow allowed one hit in his first outing against the Yankees. One of the many games that the Yankees lost this year because they couldn't seem to get the bats moving. We thoroughly enjoyed ourselves and agreed that we should do more 'stuff' together. Mark suggested a trip on his boat. We showed our enthusiasm.
It was a matter of synchronizing our schedules. Not this weekend. Nope, not that one. We're away. Joseph's walking. We decided on September 21st and kept our fingers crossed. It's fall, after all. And as some of you who've read a previous entry know, fall's about the rain in the northwest. Weather becomes hit and miss. 9/21? Miss.
We thought it was our last chance. Then comes the weekend that summer forgot to give. Sunny. mid-70s. Mark looked at the forecast and sent Joseph a message. Hell yeah...
We arrived at the Elliott Bay Marina with chips, dip, and beverage in hand, ready for our jaunt around the bay. We found Mark and Sam readying the boat for departure. A beautiful boat. I couldn't give you the proper dimensions so I won't try, but when I went down the stairs into the boat, I could stand up straight, always a good sign for me. Not that I stayed down there for long. It was too beautiful to stay below board.
We pulled around to a guest spot and awaited our mutual friends Rusty, Grant, and Troy. A full boat. Not overfull, but full enough. Sam at the helm. Mark as first mate. We the passengers. And before long, we were underway.
We traveled, as I said, around and within the bay. A little geography lesson that Sam taught us. Elliott Bay extends from the lighthouse on Alki Point (West Seattle) to the lighthouse at Discovery Park (Magnolia). At the border of the bay begins Puget Sound.
We began the trip heading towards the city. Admiring the architecture. Showing each other where we work. The food came out rather early on. And the beverages - a Cape Codder my drink of choice. The chips and dip went over well. But not as well as the goat cheese, blue cheese, salmon spread, and crackers.
Another treat too. Grant's mother had sent him caviar. He'd never tried it. I'd never tried it. And I know Joseph hadn't. I told my friends - while Joseph was sunning himself on the bow - that he wasn't particularly adventurous. So, when Joseph came to the back, they told him it was a type of jam. He scraped it across the crackers and tasted. As quickly as it entered it exited into the bay. Giving the fishies back their eggs. Not a fan. We laughed.
I tried 'em too. I liked 'em. Figures, I said aloud, that I'd have expensive tastes. Rusty turned to me and told me that I just knew how to appreciate the finer things in life. I chuckled.
We continued to enjoy each others' company. Talking, laughing. We came across a white buoy with sea lions atop it. We whistled, talked to 'em. Someone was calling 'em kitties. A little off, but then again, so were we. We took pictures. At some point, I'll get some of the pics uploaded and show you. For now, you'll have to take my word for it.
After our first loop around the bay, Sam asked me if I wanted to take the helm. I initially declined telling him to ask me again. I don't know why. Perhaps because I was shy. And a little nervous. But I was intrigued.
After a time - and after Sam and Mark had worked to ensure that the sails were secured, Sam gave me the helm. I zigged a bit at first but righted the ship - literally - and piloted the boat under Sam's watchful eye. During that time, I discovered that Sam was a Marine, that he's a Coyotes fan (hockey) and a Diamondbacks fan (baseball). I haven't followed hockey in a while, though I enjoy going to see a Thunderbirds game once in a while. We found that we shared a good amount in common. I had a good time talking to him while the others sat up front.
I yielded the helm after I began to lose concentration - more from drink than from disinterest. And we set back towards the marina.
I was awesome. And I hope to do it again. Hell, I hope to own a boat someday but I'm not holding my breath. We disembarked and went our merry ways. Tired, but with tales to tell.
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Mere Minutes: Stroller Rolls Backward on Ballard Sidewalk
There we were in our Subaru Forester traveling down NW Market Street towards Golden Gardens Park. The dogs were trading windows at each stop, whining as they maneuvered in the back seat. Buddy barked at passersby; Cleo let loose her wild tongue at everyone and everything that she deemed lickable.
I sat in the passengers seat spying the quaint neighborhood. Restaurants that we should visit. Novelty stores where we might find trinkets aplenty. 'We'll never come here,' said Joseph. 'Great attitude,' I said teasingly.
We wereapproaching the intersection with Leary when I spied a couple standing at a Washington Mutual ATM. My roving eyes then spotted a rolling thing with a child attached to it. For a nanosecond, I thought it might be a child in a wheelchair rolling backwards to make room for pedestrians on the sidewalk. Then, I realized that the child was far too young, and I yelped 'Hey!' at my closed front window. Joseph immediately caught sight of the situation and beeped multiple times in succession.
The mother turned her head, and I witnessed the utter fear and surprise on her face as she leapt to the stroller and grabbed the bar, barely preventing her child from tipping into the street.
We traveled past silently shaking our heads at happenstance.
I sat in the passengers seat spying the quaint neighborhood. Restaurants that we should visit. Novelty stores where we might find trinkets aplenty. 'We'll never come here,' said Joseph. 'Great attitude,' I said teasingly.
We wereapproaching the intersection with Leary when I spied a couple standing at a Washington Mutual ATM. My roving eyes then spotted a rolling thing with a child attached to it. For a nanosecond, I thought it might be a child in a wheelchair rolling backwards to make room for pedestrians on the sidewalk. Then, I realized that the child was far too young, and I yelped 'Hey!' at my closed front window. Joseph immediately caught sight of the situation and beeped multiple times in succession.
The mother turned her head, and I witnessed the utter fear and surprise on her face as she leapt to the stroller and grabbed the bar, barely preventing her child from tipping into the street.
We traveled past silently shaking our heads at happenstance.
Friday, September 26, 2008
TD's Official NFL Picks - Week 4
Good evening...
I usually choose my winners on Wednesday night, but those of you who read this blog understand why you don't know them yet. A Mr. Neil Diamond - for those of you who still had no idea about whom I was talking in that post - had visited Seattle. And given that there was no Thursday night game - if there had been it would have been a tough choice - I decided to delay the picks until this evening.
So, here I sit, ruminating about the debate and typing on Joseph's laptop whilst he watches the Sex in the City movie. Football. Football. Football. I'm trying the ruby slippers. Okay, here we go. Did much better last week than the week prior. Barely staying ahead of JB. But still ahead. Here we go...
Cleveland V. Cincinnati
The battle of Ohio. Why oh why oh why oh? Why do I care about Ohio? I read this past week that Ohio and Missouri are really sucking it up when it comes to football. 0-12. Yeesh. And these two Ohio teams had such high expectations. A potent Bagel offense versus an upstart Brownie offense. That's what we all thought three weeks ago. But not now. Now, the football gods are just hoping that one of these teams can actually do enough to win. I want the Brownies. I do. But there's something happening in Brownie world right now that leaves me a bit verklempt. And the Bagels kept up with the Jints. TD chooses: Cincinnati Bengals
Houston V. Jacksonville
AFC South showdown in a division that is NOT wrapped up by week three. And Jacksonville has issues with Houston. But it's also Houston's third road game of three games this season (remember that they had their first home game postponed by Ike). And they're not playing particularly well. Matt Schaub is as much the QB of the future as was David Carr. No, Jacksonville's got too much right now. TD chooses: Jacksonville Jaguars
Atlanta V. Carolina
NFC South showdown in a division that is really not wrapped up by week three. Atlanta's doing better than anyone thought. But that's what happens when you rid your world of toxicity and start building from the bottom up. God forbid the Atlanta Falcons are not the dirty birds anymore. But I'm stickin' with John Fox. Carolina's stronger. And I think they might do better than even I expected. TD chooses: Carolina Panthers
Denver V. Kansas City
See 1st Pick regarding Missouri. They're terrible. No line. No QB. No receiving corps. No defense. Do they have a kicking game? I dunno. You know, it's really tough to go oh and forever in a season. But this ain't gonna be the week that KC pulls it out. Because Denver's better? Not exactly. It's because Denver's actually good. TD chooses: Denver Broncos
San Francisco V. New Orleans
Colston. Shockey. Out out. I'd say they're disappointing, but they've lost to two good teams in Denver and Washington. Then there's San Fran. Mike Martzing it. I must say that JT did me good in fantasy last week. I have a soft spot for those players who get me the points. He has Bruce to throw to. Vernon Davis. And Patrick Willis leading that D. But it's in N'Orleans. Oh, I don't know. Umm... TD chooses: San Francisco 49ers
Arizona V. New York Jets
The battle of the ex-Super Bowl winning QBs playing in uniforms that don't quite look right. Cardinal Red. Well, football Cardinal anything, yikes. And then Jet Green. What is this, an odd Christmas come early? Still, it's an interesting game. Arizona has something to prove, and they kept up with a good Washington team last week. The Jets. Eh, they're the Jets. TD chooses: Arizona Cardinals.
Green Bay V. Tampa Bay
The battle of the bays. Green and Tampa. Tampa and Green. Green Bay outclassed last week but still a good team. Aaron's learning. Tampa, gritty. Pulled out a win against Chicago, but methinks that win had something to do with Chicago's inability to manage the game effectively. I think I'll give it to the green. TD chooses: Green Bay Packers
Minnesota V. Tennessee
Hmm. This is my interesting game of the week. Don't really know. Minnesota's coming off a good win. They showed they were a cohesive unit, somehow with Gus at QB. But Tennessee has also proven their ability to rally behind their backup turned starter. Let me now journey into the world of the tangent. I watched a Super Bowl once. It starred the New York Football Giants and the Baltimore Quoth Them Nevermore Ravens. The latter employed a QB by the name of Kerry Collins. Can you say deer in the headlights? Yes, he was able to help get them there. But along the way, he freaked me out, and he showed why in that Super Bowl. It's just a matter of time. TD chooses: Minnesota Vikings
San Diego V. Oakland
In the Black Hole, this could be the upset of the week. Lane Kiffin's trying to keep his job. The Raiders are, in fact, showing life. No, Jamarcus can't sustain a passing attack of more than two consecutive passes. But they have people who can actually run the ball. San Diego has LT, even if injured. And a pretty good D. And a serviceable QB. But they also have Norv can't get it done Turner. No, not this early in the season. I know. But there's something about this game. And I don't even like Oakland. TD chooses: Oakland Raiders
Buffalo V. St. Louis
JB, yes the JB with whom I am competing for the joy of purchasing for him or having him purchase for me a beer. He goes by another name, a rather appropriate name at that. Joreacle. And Joreacle says that St. Louis is gonna blow 'em out. What? I grimaced as he told me. Nah. Then I read Peter King's - of NBC and SI - picks. And he picked St. Louis too. What, Trent Green starts and it's the second coming. And against a 3-0 Bills team coached by Mr. Dick Jauron. I do not subscribe to their points of view. TD chooses: Buffalo Bills
Philadelphia V. Chicago
The Sunday night game. An intriguing matchup. Philadelphia shut Pittsburgh DOWN last week. And Chicago completely mismanaged their game against Tampa. Chicago has a running game. Philly has an injured running back. Philly's D was a brick wall. Da Bears were rather porous. I think Chicago's strong, but they could be blowing smoke. But if Donovan stays healthy the Iggles are a true contender. TD chooses: Philadelphia Eagles
Baltimore V. Pittsburgh
Did I ever tell you I hate Baltimore? It happened even before they played the Jints. Because I like the Browns. A little known fact. And the way they moved just didn't sit right. So, I root against them as a general rule. This Monday night will be no exception. But this isn't about the team I want to win. This is about the team that's going to win. And so, TD chooses: Pittsburgh Steelers
Pick of the Week
Washington V. Dallas
Classic. Dallas, a group of world beaters. T Alfonso Owens. T Tire Changin' Romo. Adam Blinky Jones. Spankin' Tank Johnson. Marion the Demon Barber. Washington, a bunch of... Redskins. Okay, so everything about this game says Dallas. And that's why TD chooses: Dallas Cowboys
I usually choose my winners on Wednesday night, but those of you who read this blog understand why you don't know them yet. A Mr. Neil Diamond - for those of you who still had no idea about whom I was talking in that post - had visited Seattle. And given that there was no Thursday night game - if there had been it would have been a tough choice - I decided to delay the picks until this evening.
So, here I sit, ruminating about the debate and typing on Joseph's laptop whilst he watches the Sex in the City movie. Football. Football. Football. I'm trying the ruby slippers. Okay, here we go. Did much better last week than the week prior. Barely staying ahead of JB. But still ahead. Here we go...
Cleveland V. Cincinnati
The battle of Ohio. Why oh why oh why oh? Why do I care about Ohio? I read this past week that Ohio and Missouri are really sucking it up when it comes to football. 0-12. Yeesh. And these two Ohio teams had such high expectations. A potent Bagel offense versus an upstart Brownie offense. That's what we all thought three weeks ago. But not now. Now, the football gods are just hoping that one of these teams can actually do enough to win. I want the Brownies. I do. But there's something happening in Brownie world right now that leaves me a bit verklempt. And the Bagels kept up with the Jints. TD chooses: Cincinnati Bengals
Houston V. Jacksonville
AFC South showdown in a division that is NOT wrapped up by week three. And Jacksonville has issues with Houston. But it's also Houston's third road game of three games this season (remember that they had their first home game postponed by Ike). And they're not playing particularly well. Matt Schaub is as much the QB of the future as was David Carr. No, Jacksonville's got too much right now. TD chooses: Jacksonville Jaguars
Atlanta V. Carolina
NFC South showdown in a division that is really not wrapped up by week three. Atlanta's doing better than anyone thought. But that's what happens when you rid your world of toxicity and start building from the bottom up. God forbid the Atlanta Falcons are not the dirty birds anymore. But I'm stickin' with John Fox. Carolina's stronger. And I think they might do better than even I expected. TD chooses: Carolina Panthers
Denver V. Kansas City
See 1st Pick regarding Missouri. They're terrible. No line. No QB. No receiving corps. No defense. Do they have a kicking game? I dunno. You know, it's really tough to go oh and forever in a season. But this ain't gonna be the week that KC pulls it out. Because Denver's better? Not exactly. It's because Denver's actually good. TD chooses: Denver Broncos
San Francisco V. New Orleans
Colston. Shockey. Out out. I'd say they're disappointing, but they've lost to two good teams in Denver and Washington. Then there's San Fran. Mike Martzing it. I must say that JT did me good in fantasy last week. I have a soft spot for those players who get me the points. He has Bruce to throw to. Vernon Davis. And Patrick Willis leading that D. But it's in N'Orleans. Oh, I don't know. Umm... TD chooses: San Francisco 49ers
Arizona V. New York Jets
The battle of the ex-Super Bowl winning QBs playing in uniforms that don't quite look right. Cardinal Red. Well, football Cardinal anything, yikes. And then Jet Green. What is this, an odd Christmas come early? Still, it's an interesting game. Arizona has something to prove, and they kept up with a good Washington team last week. The Jets. Eh, they're the Jets. TD chooses: Arizona Cardinals.
Green Bay V. Tampa Bay
The battle of the bays. Green and Tampa. Tampa and Green. Green Bay outclassed last week but still a good team. Aaron's learning. Tampa, gritty. Pulled out a win against Chicago, but methinks that win had something to do with Chicago's inability to manage the game effectively. I think I'll give it to the green. TD chooses: Green Bay Packers
Minnesota V. Tennessee
Hmm. This is my interesting game of the week. Don't really know. Minnesota's coming off a good win. They showed they were a cohesive unit, somehow with Gus at QB. But Tennessee has also proven their ability to rally behind their backup turned starter. Let me now journey into the world of the tangent. I watched a Super Bowl once. It starred the New York Football Giants and the Baltimore Quoth Them Nevermore Ravens. The latter employed a QB by the name of Kerry Collins. Can you say deer in the headlights? Yes, he was able to help get them there. But along the way, he freaked me out, and he showed why in that Super Bowl. It's just a matter of time. TD chooses: Minnesota Vikings
San Diego V. Oakland
In the Black Hole, this could be the upset of the week. Lane Kiffin's trying to keep his job. The Raiders are, in fact, showing life. No, Jamarcus can't sustain a passing attack of more than two consecutive passes. But they have people who can actually run the ball. San Diego has LT, even if injured. And a pretty good D. And a serviceable QB. But they also have Norv can't get it done Turner. No, not this early in the season. I know. But there's something about this game. And I don't even like Oakland. TD chooses: Oakland Raiders
Buffalo V. St. Louis
JB, yes the JB with whom I am competing for the joy of purchasing for him or having him purchase for me a beer. He goes by another name, a rather appropriate name at that. Joreacle. And Joreacle says that St. Louis is gonna blow 'em out. What? I grimaced as he told me. Nah. Then I read Peter King's - of NBC and SI - picks. And he picked St. Louis too. What, Trent Green starts and it's the second coming. And against a 3-0 Bills team coached by Mr. Dick Jauron. I do not subscribe to their points of view. TD chooses: Buffalo Bills
Philadelphia V. Chicago
The Sunday night game. An intriguing matchup. Philadelphia shut Pittsburgh DOWN last week. And Chicago completely mismanaged their game against Tampa. Chicago has a running game. Philly has an injured running back. Philly's D was a brick wall. Da Bears were rather porous. I think Chicago's strong, but they could be blowing smoke. But if Donovan stays healthy the Iggles are a true contender. TD chooses: Philadelphia Eagles
Baltimore V. Pittsburgh
Did I ever tell you I hate Baltimore? It happened even before they played the Jints. Because I like the Browns. A little known fact. And the way they moved just didn't sit right. So, I root against them as a general rule. This Monday night will be no exception. But this isn't about the team I want to win. This is about the team that's going to win. And so, TD chooses: Pittsburgh Steelers
Pick of the Week
Washington V. Dallas
Classic. Dallas, a group of world beaters. T Alfonso Owens. T Tire Changin' Romo. Adam Blinky Jones. Spankin' Tank Johnson. Marion the Demon Barber. Washington, a bunch of... Redskins. Okay, so everything about this game says Dallas. And that's why TD chooses: Dallas Cowboys
Thursday, September 25, 2008
An Early Birthday Gift
Last evening - or afternoon as it were - I referred to a happening. No, not like in the movie. I didn't even see that movie. Wasn't that M. Night Sh. Not even gonna try. Yeah, I know I could look it up, but I'm just gonna leave it at Sh.
Where was I? Oh yes, last evening. Joseph purchased for me two tickets to... Well, I'll get to that... eventually. But let's recount the evening.
Left early from work. Fed dogs. Dogs pottied. I sat and blogged. I returned to downtown. Picked up Joseph from the gym. Drove to Queen Anne.
For those of you unfamiliar with this name, Queen Anne is an area within Seattle where neither a queen nor women named Anne live. Discuss. Okay, so there may be some Annes but I don't know any.
We park. We start looking for a restaurant. We have about an hour.
Local pub, packed. Italian restaurant next door, packed. Another pub, packed. Everyone's eating out, it seems. Finally, we enter a place called The Spectator. From the outside, it looks like a run down strip club. Has the name for it too. Inside, there are umpteen televisions playing the Mets-Cubs game. A sports bar. Nice. We sit. We eat. We watch as the Mets get a friggin guy on 3rd and can't get him home. Egregious.
Time to go to the Key. As in the Arena. Home of the Superson... Oh, no. Home of the Thunderbir... not them either anymore. Home of the Seattle Storm. Thank goodness for the WNBA. And there are still a few concerts and such held there. And we were going to one...
Now, you could ruin the surprise and find out who was at the Key last night. Or, you could wait as I build the anticipation until I finally reveal who it was and you can guffaw loudly or chuckle mildly depending, of course, on your whereabouts as you read this.
We entered the Key. I watched as Joseph's face revealed his... his... well, his disbelief that he was there. We walked into the arena itself and descended to the sixth row. Great seats. Just awesome. Joseph done good.
We looked around the arena and tried to spot minorities. Yes, minorities. Joseph, being black, and I, being white, have no problem admitting that we are in fact black and white respectively. And we laugh at our respective 'peoples'. Last night was his opportunity to laugh at mine. I did, however, spot an African-American woman and her daughter; I told Joseph. Well, I'll be damned, he said, a sistah.
A hint? Okay. The first six people in our row - including us - a black 30 something gay man, a white 30 something gay man, a white tattoo covered facially pierced 20 something straight man, a white black-wearing long-haired 20 something straight woman, a white 60 something married man, and a white 60 something married woman. Does that help?
The announcer said that there would be no opening act. And no intermission. Joseph glanced at me with a pained look.
The lights didn't as much dim as they just shut off. We saw the outline of band members readying to play everything from an electric guitar to an accordian. And then the performer, with much drama, was announced. A singer, actor. Another hint. The only person ever to have been nominated for a Golden Globe and to have won a Razzie for the same part...
The person appeared as if from nowhere - or from the stairs that ran up the back of the stage - and the spotlight shone. Strumming the black guitar, the performer strode down the stage as the moving parts of the stage - described as like tectonic plates by a critic I read today - closed in behind the person. Holy cow! I was really seeing this person in concert.
The first few songs were familiar. Some songs strumming the guitar. Others songs just singing with a cordless mike. The performer built the energy slowly but surely.
Then came an emotional spot. 'I've shared the story of my life a thousand times. I'd like to share it just once more with you.' At that moment, my life filled to the brim, I had found a new favorite that I'd heard before but had never internalized.
The performer wasn't finished. There was another very personal song. And when he sang it, Joseph turned to me with excitement in his eyes. A song that he not only recognized but that he also liked. After the song, he asked excitedly, 'Are you having a good time?' 'I am,' I said smilingly.
A few songs from a new album. Good songs. And then back to a few more familiar ones. Good times, I tell ya. I couldn't remember when the times felt so good. I couldn't recall a better concert, I thought to myself.
After that crescendo, I thought the concert was over. Little did I know.
The performer seemed to disappear but the spotlight found the person sitting at a table on which there sat a single rose and a bottle of wine. The performer belted out the song, and I don't think anyone could say he didn't bring it with that performance.
The person moved into a few more new songs. A few older ones.
'I am a spiritual traveler' the person said at one point. 'I don't think I'll ever stop.' The crowd roared.
And then the final song. One of the twelve songs on a recent album. Heartfelt. Awe inspiring. A good end, but not the right one. The performer left the stage. Everyone was standing. Even I. Yes, I was standing. Part of the raucous audience cheering for the person to return. I turned to Joseph and told him amidst the din, 'That performer' - so I didn't really say that - 'has to play two of three more songs and I'll be happy.' Joseph said in my ear, 'I don't know anyone who doesn't come out for an encore.'
And out the person came. Pictures of immigrants flickered on the giants screens to the left and right of the stage. We the audience sang with the performer, sang those lyrics we knew so well.
1 of 3
And then he started. It might not have been a hot September night in Seattle, but it was hot in that arena as he sang. The sermon came. The platform on which he stood rose. The lights flashed. And we were all satisfied.
2 of 3
The concert ended. Joseph turned to me. 'He just sang for over two hours.' 'Really?' I said 'And with no intermission,' he added. 'Not bad for a 67 year old' I said. Joseph continued, 'I have to say I'm surprised; that concert was awesome.' Not what I expected to hear from him. 'Are you happy I got you the tickets?' he asked.
I am I said.
Where was I? Oh yes, last evening. Joseph purchased for me two tickets to... Well, I'll get to that... eventually. But let's recount the evening.
Left early from work. Fed dogs. Dogs pottied. I sat and blogged. I returned to downtown. Picked up Joseph from the gym. Drove to Queen Anne.
For those of you unfamiliar with this name, Queen Anne is an area within Seattle where neither a queen nor women named Anne live. Discuss. Okay, so there may be some Annes but I don't know any.
We park. We start looking for a restaurant. We have about an hour.
Local pub, packed. Italian restaurant next door, packed. Another pub, packed. Everyone's eating out, it seems. Finally, we enter a place called The Spectator. From the outside, it looks like a run down strip club. Has the name for it too. Inside, there are umpteen televisions playing the Mets-Cubs game. A sports bar. Nice. We sit. We eat. We watch as the Mets get a friggin guy on 3rd and can't get him home. Egregious.
Time to go to the Key. As in the Arena. Home of the Superson... Oh, no. Home of the Thunderbir... not them either anymore. Home of the Seattle Storm. Thank goodness for the WNBA. And there are still a few concerts and such held there. And we were going to one...
Now, you could ruin the surprise and find out who was at the Key last night. Or, you could wait as I build the anticipation until I finally reveal who it was and you can guffaw loudly or chuckle mildly depending, of course, on your whereabouts as you read this.
We entered the Key. I watched as Joseph's face revealed his... his... well, his disbelief that he was there. We walked into the arena itself and descended to the sixth row. Great seats. Just awesome. Joseph done good.
We looked around the arena and tried to spot minorities. Yes, minorities. Joseph, being black, and I, being white, have no problem admitting that we are in fact black and white respectively. And we laugh at our respective 'peoples'. Last night was his opportunity to laugh at mine. I did, however, spot an African-American woman and her daughter; I told Joseph. Well, I'll be damned, he said, a sistah.
A hint? Okay. The first six people in our row - including us - a black 30 something gay man, a white 30 something gay man, a white tattoo covered facially pierced 20 something straight man, a white black-wearing long-haired 20 something straight woman, a white 60 something married man, and a white 60 something married woman. Does that help?
The announcer said that there would be no opening act. And no intermission. Joseph glanced at me with a pained look.
The lights didn't as much dim as they just shut off. We saw the outline of band members readying to play everything from an electric guitar to an accordian. And then the performer, with much drama, was announced. A singer, actor. Another hint. The only person ever to have been nominated for a Golden Globe and to have won a Razzie for the same part...
The person appeared as if from nowhere - or from the stairs that ran up the back of the stage - and the spotlight shone. Strumming the black guitar, the performer strode down the stage as the moving parts of the stage - described as like tectonic plates by a critic I read today - closed in behind the person. Holy cow! I was really seeing this person in concert.
The first few songs were familiar. Some songs strumming the guitar. Others songs just singing with a cordless mike. The performer built the energy slowly but surely.
Then came an emotional spot. 'I've shared the story of my life a thousand times. I'd like to share it just once more with you.' At that moment, my life filled to the brim, I had found a new favorite that I'd heard before but had never internalized.
The performer wasn't finished. There was another very personal song. And when he sang it, Joseph turned to me with excitement in his eyes. A song that he not only recognized but that he also liked. After the song, he asked excitedly, 'Are you having a good time?' 'I am,' I said smilingly.
A few songs from a new album. Good songs. And then back to a few more familiar ones. Good times, I tell ya. I couldn't remember when the times felt so good. I couldn't recall a better concert, I thought to myself.
After that crescendo, I thought the concert was over. Little did I know.
The performer seemed to disappear but the spotlight found the person sitting at a table on which there sat a single rose and a bottle of wine. The performer belted out the song, and I don't think anyone could say he didn't bring it with that performance.
The person moved into a few more new songs. A few older ones.
'I am a spiritual traveler' the person said at one point. 'I don't think I'll ever stop.' The crowd roared.
And then the final song. One of the twelve songs on a recent album. Heartfelt. Awe inspiring. A good end, but not the right one. The performer left the stage. Everyone was standing. Even I. Yes, I was standing. Part of the raucous audience cheering for the person to return. I turned to Joseph and told him amidst the din, 'That performer' - so I didn't really say that - 'has to play two of three more songs and I'll be happy.' Joseph said in my ear, 'I don't know anyone who doesn't come out for an encore.'
And out the person came. Pictures of immigrants flickered on the giants screens to the left and right of the stage. We the audience sang with the performer, sang those lyrics we knew so well.
1 of 3
And then he started. It might not have been a hot September night in Seattle, but it was hot in that arena as he sang. The sermon came. The platform on which he stood rose. The lights flashed. And we were all satisfied.
2 of 3
The concert ended. Joseph turned to me. 'He just sang for over two hours.' 'Really?' I said 'And with no intermission,' he added. 'Not bad for a 67 year old' I said. Joseph continued, 'I have to say I'm surprised; that concert was awesome.' Not what I expected to hear from him. 'Are you happy I got you the tickets?' he asked.
I am I said.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
The 11 Ways You Know It's Fall in Seattle
In place of my usual NFL Picks this Wednesday, I will be giving and abbreviated post. The NFL Picks will come later in the week. But another happening prevents me from spending that time tonight. That happening will become apparent as the week progresses...
So, without further ado...
11. The number of car accidents has literally octupled because Seattle residents have forgotten that wet roads have a better than average chance of being slippery.
10. People are holding white paper Starbucks cups instead of clear plastic ones.
9. Mariners fans have said 'There's always next year' so often, they're starting to believe it.
8. Socks and sandals.
7. Cougars and Huskies fans can look forward to the Apple Cup (and not much else).
6. The leaves are turning shades of... Wait, this is the Evergreen State. Scratch that.
5. The Seahawks are well on their way to winning the NFC West. (As well on their way as any of their other division rivals. Boy, the NFC West sucks.)
4. You can tell the people who haven't lived here long because they're not only carrying but using their umbrellas to shield the rain.
3. Conversely, you can determine the people who have lived here a while; they're soaked.
2. The Seattle Supersonics are readying for another exciting year at the Key. They what? Really? No... You don't say. Umm, nevermind.
1. We have officially met our quota for summer days - defined as over 75 and sunny. All eleven of them.
So, without further ado...
11. The number of car accidents has literally octupled because Seattle residents have forgotten that wet roads have a better than average chance of being slippery.
10. People are holding white paper Starbucks cups instead of clear plastic ones.
9. Mariners fans have said 'There's always next year' so often, they're starting to believe it.
8. Socks and sandals.
7. Cougars and Huskies fans can look forward to the Apple Cup (and not much else).
6. The leaves are turning shades of... Wait, this is the Evergreen State. Scratch that.
5. The Seahawks are well on their way to winning the NFC West. (As well on their way as any of their other division rivals. Boy, the NFC West sucks.)
4. You can tell the people who haven't lived here long because they're not only carrying but using their umbrellas to shield the rain.
3. Conversely, you can determine the people who have lived here a while; they're soaked.
2. The Seattle Supersonics are readying for another exciting year at the Key. They what? Really? No... You don't say. Umm, nevermind.
1. We have officially met our quota for summer days - defined as over 75 and sunny. All eleven of them.
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
It's the Economy Stupid
I'm not what you might call a financial genius. Other than my 401k and my pittance of a bank account, I don't have any investments. No stocks. No bonds. I've never played the market. I've asked for help from different sources any number of times in this arena, but have had returned to me advice that boggles my mind. Like I said, no genius.
What I do think I understand is history. And history tells me we're in the midst of a rather significant era, the likes of which a non-historian might claim we've never seen but which a historian would say we haven't seen in 80 years. Well, 79 on October 29th to be exact.
No, this is not the beginning of a second Great Depression. At least, I think it's too soon to say it is. But this ain't no financial picnic either. We're in some trouble.
Rampant speculation. Flawed borrowing. High-risk lending. How could this happen? Didn't we learn? When did this all start?
I recommend that you familiarize yourself with the Glass Steagall Act and the Gramm Leach Bliley Act. I don't care if you think you're a Republican or a Democrat; the tale of these two acts will lead you to look at our country differently, methinks.
The Glass Steagall Act? In short, FDR's banking reforms. Established the FDIC. A control on rampant speculation. The Glass Steagall Act had been under siege since the 70s. Too many restrictions. Not enough power for banks. The Republicans wanted it repealed. But Democrats fought it. You'll find the Dems' arguments below:
The argument for preserving Glass-Steagall (as written in 1987):
1. Conflicts of interest characterize the granting of credit – lending – and the use of credit – investing – by the same entity, which led to abuses that originally produced the Act
2. Depository institutions possess enormous financial power, by virtue of their control of other people’s money; its extent must be limited to ensure soundness and competition in the market for funds, whether loans or investments. - Good idea
3. Securities activities can be risky, leading to enormous losses. Such losses could threaten the integrity of deposits. In turn, the Government insures deposits and could be required to pay large sums if depository institutions were to collapse as the result of securities losses. - Sound familiar?
4. Depository institutions are supposed to be managed to limit risk. Their managers thus may not be conditioned to operate prudently in more speculative securities businesses. An example is the crash of real estate investment trusts sponsored by bank holding companies (in the 1970s and 1980s).
Well, if Glass Steagall is in place, then how could the subprime mortgage crisis happen? How could the economy be so bad?
The answer: the Glass Steagall Act was ransacked. Sure, the FDIC is still around. But that's about it. For the most part, the Glass Steagall Act was repealed. By the Gramm Leach Bliley Act.
This act allowed for banks to become 'whole banks' again. It allowed for the already formed conglomerate Citigroup - the merger of Citibank and Travelers - to cease being illegal back in 1999. It allowed for the renaissance of the Gilded Age. Morgan, Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, Rothschild, and Carnegie reborn; and up to their old tricks. But not in industry as before. It's in the finance.
Does that spelling of Gramm seem familiar? Phil Gramm, the one-time presidential campaign co-chair of the McCain campaign as well as a continuing senior economic adviser. By the way, he's the one that called the United States a nation of whiners. Do you want even more good news about Gramm? He was one of the 5 co-sponsors of the Commodity Futures Modernization Act of 2000 which contains the Enron Loophole.
But this gets better. I told you I'm being completely bi-partisan here. I've already mentioned McCain and his ties to the dubious Gramm. But who eventually signed both the repeal of the Glass Steagall Act and the Commodity Futures Modernization Act? 1999 and 2000? Slick Willie Clinton. As I said, this ain't about Republicans and Democrats. This is about the haves and have nots. Those in government have too long been in bed with the corporations. Corporatocracy, it's called. The inability to separate government from business. The Bush family and their oil connections. The Clintons and their corporate connections. Two sides of the same coin.
I give to you a New York Times excerpt of a June 2007 interview with the CEO of Goldman Sachs, Lloyd Blankfein (Goldman Runs Risks, Reaps Rewards):
And Treasury Secretary Paulson wanted NO OVERSIGHT. That means that he wanted the money and wanted to have NO ACCOUNTABILITY. And Bush told the Congress that they better just go along with it so that we could resolve the problem. Am I in the Twilight Zone? Oh, and what does this make Bush? It's my understanding that FDR was the guy who bailed this country out the last time. And that Republicans are for smaller government. Did I miss something?
I don't have a great answer for you. But there's a lesson to be learned. Please remember that most of FDR's alphabet soup agencies didn't do much. FDR had about as much of an idea of how to fix the economy as Hoover had. But the unemployment benefits, the banking reforms, and the social security programs he did enact were very popular. That got him through the 1936 election. Then the Great Depression ended. Do you happen to remember how? A desperate country across the Atlantic elected a man who would change the course of world history. The rise of Nazi Germany and the attack by Japan jumpstarted this country like no other event could.
Do not doubt that history could repeat.
At this point, the world is feeling the repercussions of the financial problems. Our enemies smell blood in the water. We're embroiled in two wars. We're still dependent on foreign oil. And now our houses aren't worth what they were when we bought them; I know mine isn't. People are wondering how they're going to get through the winter with oil prices so high. People are wondering how they're going to purchase food as their prices rise. People wonder if their jobs may be outsourced to a land of cheap labor. Look to see for whom you work and then look to see who owns them. I see Lone Star owns my company. I see that they're purchasing Citigroup toxic debt. They're purchasing Barclay's - who just purchased part of Lehman Bros - debt. This isn't far from us.
'Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.' (William S. Burroughs)
The old man says that the sin of omission will always be more abominable than the sin of commission. Perhaps we should commit to fighting the good fight. To becoming leaders in our local communities. To realizing that this country consists of more than greedy corporate leaders. To uniting as labor unions once did and challenge the status quo. To showing the world that we can reassert the prominence of a great country.
Or we can fail 'not with a bang but a whimper'...
What I do think I understand is history. And history tells me we're in the midst of a rather significant era, the likes of which a non-historian might claim we've never seen but which a historian would say we haven't seen in 80 years. Well, 79 on October 29th to be exact.
No, this is not the beginning of a second Great Depression. At least, I think it's too soon to say it is. But this ain't no financial picnic either. We're in some trouble.
Rampant speculation. Flawed borrowing. High-risk lending. How could this happen? Didn't we learn? When did this all start?
I recommend that you familiarize yourself with the Glass Steagall Act and the Gramm Leach Bliley Act. I don't care if you think you're a Republican or a Democrat; the tale of these two acts will lead you to look at our country differently, methinks.
The Glass Steagall Act? In short, FDR's banking reforms. Established the FDIC. A control on rampant speculation. The Glass Steagall Act had been under siege since the 70s. Too many restrictions. Not enough power for banks. The Republicans wanted it repealed. But Democrats fought it. You'll find the Dems' arguments below:
The argument for preserving Glass-Steagall (as written in 1987):
1. Conflicts of interest characterize the granting of credit – lending – and the use of credit – investing – by the same entity, which led to abuses that originally produced the Act
2. Depository institutions possess enormous financial power, by virtue of their control of other people’s money; its extent must be limited to ensure soundness and competition in the market for funds, whether loans or investments. - Good idea
3. Securities activities can be risky, leading to enormous losses. Such losses could threaten the integrity of deposits. In turn, the Government insures deposits and could be required to pay large sums if depository institutions were to collapse as the result of securities losses. - Sound familiar?
4. Depository institutions are supposed to be managed to limit risk. Their managers thus may not be conditioned to operate prudently in more speculative securities businesses. An example is the crash of real estate investment trusts sponsored by bank holding companies (in the 1970s and 1980s).
Well, if Glass Steagall is in place, then how could the subprime mortgage crisis happen? How could the economy be so bad?
The answer: the Glass Steagall Act was ransacked. Sure, the FDIC is still around. But that's about it. For the most part, the Glass Steagall Act was repealed. By the Gramm Leach Bliley Act.
This act allowed for banks to become 'whole banks' again. It allowed for the already formed conglomerate Citigroup - the merger of Citibank and Travelers - to cease being illegal back in 1999. It allowed for the renaissance of the Gilded Age. Morgan, Vanderbilt, Rockefeller, Rothschild, and Carnegie reborn; and up to their old tricks. But not in industry as before. It's in the finance.
Does that spelling of Gramm seem familiar? Phil Gramm, the one-time presidential campaign co-chair of the McCain campaign as well as a continuing senior economic adviser. By the way, he's the one that called the United States a nation of whiners. Do you want even more good news about Gramm? He was one of the 5 co-sponsors of the Commodity Futures Modernization Act of 2000 which contains the Enron Loophole.
But this gets better. I told you I'm being completely bi-partisan here. I've already mentioned McCain and his ties to the dubious Gramm. But who eventually signed both the repeal of the Glass Steagall Act and the Commodity Futures Modernization Act? 1999 and 2000? Slick Willie Clinton. As I said, this ain't about Republicans and Democrats. This is about the haves and have nots. Those in government have too long been in bed with the corporations. Corporatocracy, it's called. The inability to separate government from business. The Bush family and their oil connections. The Clintons and their corporate connections. Two sides of the same coin.
I give to you a New York Times excerpt of a June 2007 interview with the CEO of Goldman Sachs, Lloyd Blankfein (Goldman Runs Risks, Reaps Rewards):
“We’ve come full circle, because this is exactly what the Rothschilds or J. P.You're seeing the results. The rich are getting richer. And God help the poor. Now, a $700 billion dollar bailout? Are you freakin' kidding? For these private equity firms that lobbied 30 years in the first place to get that Glass Steagall Act repealed? Obama calls it welfare for Wall Street Execs. Isn't it?
Morgan the banker were doing in their heyday. What caused an aberration was the
Glass Steagall Act.”
And Treasury Secretary Paulson wanted NO OVERSIGHT. That means that he wanted the money and wanted to have NO ACCOUNTABILITY. And Bush told the Congress that they better just go along with it so that we could resolve the problem. Am I in the Twilight Zone? Oh, and what does this make Bush? It's my understanding that FDR was the guy who bailed this country out the last time. And that Republicans are for smaller government. Did I miss something?
I don't have a great answer for you. But there's a lesson to be learned. Please remember that most of FDR's alphabet soup agencies didn't do much. FDR had about as much of an idea of how to fix the economy as Hoover had. But the unemployment benefits, the banking reforms, and the social security programs he did enact were very popular. That got him through the 1936 election. Then the Great Depression ended. Do you happen to remember how? A desperate country across the Atlantic elected a man who would change the course of world history. The rise of Nazi Germany and the attack by Japan jumpstarted this country like no other event could.
Do not doubt that history could repeat.
At this point, the world is feeling the repercussions of the financial problems. Our enemies smell blood in the water. We're embroiled in two wars. We're still dependent on foreign oil. And now our houses aren't worth what they were when we bought them; I know mine isn't. People are wondering how they're going to get through the winter with oil prices so high. People are wondering how they're going to purchase food as their prices rise. People wonder if their jobs may be outsourced to a land of cheap labor. Look to see for whom you work and then look to see who owns them. I see Lone Star owns my company. I see that they're purchasing Citigroup toxic debt. They're purchasing Barclay's - who just purchased part of Lehman Bros - debt. This isn't far from us.
'Desperation is the raw material of drastic change. Only those who can leave behind everything they have ever believed in can hope to escape.' (William S. Burroughs)
The old man says that the sin of omission will always be more abominable than the sin of commission. Perhaps we should commit to fighting the good fight. To becoming leaders in our local communities. To realizing that this country consists of more than greedy corporate leaders. To uniting as labor unions once did and challenge the status quo. To showing the world that we can reassert the prominence of a great country.
Or we can fail 'not with a bang but a whimper'...
Monday, September 22, 2008
Getting to Know Me: A Night at the Movies
Good evening...
Well, it is my intention to share with you the ethereal and the mundane - definitely more the latter - of my life. And so, every so often I'll offer opinions about exceptionally mundane topics. My goal is to bore you with incessant tripe - which can be defined either as utter rubbish or cattle intestine. This entry should fall somewhere between the two.
The first movie I remember seeing in the theater. You know, I couldn't tell you. There are those people in the world who happen to remember their pre-womb existence as an ant ready to be ground into ant-meal by Nancy Sinatra's boots. I personally don't have the ability to put into a meaningful chronological order any happenings in my life up until about age ten. With that said, I remember Goonies, Back to the Future, Return of the Jedi, and Gremlins. Enjoyed them all at the time. And I bet you couldn't guess which I'd still consider to be among my top favorites of all time. Well, some of you could, but don't tell. You'll find out later.
The first movie I remember seeing period? Oh Lord. No idea. I know I saw Patton about 1300 times as a kid. And the Sound of Music or Gung Ho every time I went to see my paternal grandparents. An odd fact. I've only ever been to the movies once with my maternal grandparents, and we went to see Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. They're also the older white folks - phrase stolen from my uncle - who have never owned a VCR, let alone a DVD player, and who barely know how to set their thermostat.
Scariest movie ever? Tie. Hated Jaws. Still do. Couldn't look at a shark until I was about 15. And then there was this movie about piranhas aptly named Piranha that scared the utter bejesus out of me. I ran up the stairs so fast when I saw that old fisherman's legs severed at the knees; didn't sleep right for a week.
Scariest scene. The Godfather. The toll booth. 'Nuff said.
Funniest movie. I don't have one. Don't get me wrong, I like lots of comedies. But none that I can watch over and over. Blazing Saddles. Holy Grail. Silence of the Lambs. Just checking. Yeah, I guess it just ain't my genre.
Movie that makes me cry. I've said it already in this blog. Do you remember? Field of Dreams. Kevin Costner playing catch with his dad. Gets me every time.
Movie that freaked me out the most. The Game with Michael Douglas and Sean Penn. If you haven't seen it, go watch it.
Movies that I will most likely never watch again. Schindler's List. Saving Private Ryan (first 20 minutes). The Passion of the Christ. Too difficult to watch.
Biggest disappointment. Now, this movie wasn't a disappointment. It was, in fact, probably the director's best to date. But, the day after it came out a friend said, he's dead. Yeah, you all know to which movie I refer.
Best superhero movie? Some would say Iron Man. Yes, it was good. Spiderman, also a good trio. Superman - the original. Certainly a candidate. X-Men? Second one ranks in the top five. The Incredible Hulk? Eh. Ghost Rider. No. Hellboy. Cult classic, maybe, but no. It's Batman. Both of the most recent. The original and the sequel were good too. No doubt. But I think Nolan just has the pulse of the character. Awesome.
Box sets that were purchased for me. Star Wars. Indiana Jones. Star Trek. The Bourne Series. Back to the Future. Die Hard. Lord of the Rings. That should give you some indication of the my leanings as regards movies.
Which brings me to an opinion. I will not go to the movies to watch romantic comedies. I'll most likely not be watching those anyway. I won't go for comedies. I won't go for most dramas. I won't go for foreign films. It's not because I don't like the movies. It's because I'm cheap. Even the matinees are ridiculous. No, give me the special effects with big bangs and space shots and such.
Guilty pleasure. All of the Disney Pixar films.
Documentary? Tie between The Civil War and Baseball.
A movie that I will watch no matter how bad? Any underdog sports story. From the good ones like Hoosiers to the questionable ones like Little Giants. Mystery, Alaska. The Mighty Ducks. The Bad News Bears. Glory Road. Remember the Titans. Friday Night Lights. Can't help it. Gotta watch.
Best movie with no action whatsoever of any kind? Mindwalk. Awesome. If you can sit and watch people walk around Mont St. Michel, watch it.
Okay, I'm ready for my ice cream so I shall now reveal what I tell everyone is my favorite movie and what movie I really will watch over and over without stopping. The former? Shawshank Redemption. The latter? Back to the Future. Love the Delorian. Love the Flux Capacitor. Love the premise. Love the line, 'Who's Vice President, Jerry Lewis?' and 'Great Scott' and '1.21 Jigowatts'.
There you have it. Movies at a glance, TD style. And now I must be off...
'Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads...'
Well, it is my intention to share with you the ethereal and the mundane - definitely more the latter - of my life. And so, every so often I'll offer opinions about exceptionally mundane topics. My goal is to bore you with incessant tripe - which can be defined either as utter rubbish or cattle intestine. This entry should fall somewhere between the two.
The first movie I remember seeing in the theater. You know, I couldn't tell you. There are those people in the world who happen to remember their pre-womb existence as an ant ready to be ground into ant-meal by Nancy Sinatra's boots. I personally don't have the ability to put into a meaningful chronological order any happenings in my life up until about age ten. With that said, I remember Goonies, Back to the Future, Return of the Jedi, and Gremlins. Enjoyed them all at the time. And I bet you couldn't guess which I'd still consider to be among my top favorites of all time. Well, some of you could, but don't tell. You'll find out later.
The first movie I remember seeing period? Oh Lord. No idea. I know I saw Patton about 1300 times as a kid. And the Sound of Music or Gung Ho every time I went to see my paternal grandparents. An odd fact. I've only ever been to the movies once with my maternal grandparents, and we went to see Snow White and the Seven Dwarves. They're also the older white folks - phrase stolen from my uncle - who have never owned a VCR, let alone a DVD player, and who barely know how to set their thermostat.
Scariest movie ever? Tie. Hated Jaws. Still do. Couldn't look at a shark until I was about 15. And then there was this movie about piranhas aptly named Piranha that scared the utter bejesus out of me. I ran up the stairs so fast when I saw that old fisherman's legs severed at the knees; didn't sleep right for a week.
Scariest scene. The Godfather. The toll booth. 'Nuff said.
Funniest movie. I don't have one. Don't get me wrong, I like lots of comedies. But none that I can watch over and over. Blazing Saddles. Holy Grail. Silence of the Lambs. Just checking. Yeah, I guess it just ain't my genre.
Movie that makes me cry. I've said it already in this blog. Do you remember? Field of Dreams. Kevin Costner playing catch with his dad. Gets me every time.
Movie that freaked me out the most. The Game with Michael Douglas and Sean Penn. If you haven't seen it, go watch it.
Movies that I will most likely never watch again. Schindler's List. Saving Private Ryan (first 20 minutes). The Passion of the Christ. Too difficult to watch.
Biggest disappointment. Now, this movie wasn't a disappointment. It was, in fact, probably the director's best to date. But, the day after it came out a friend said, he's dead. Yeah, you all know to which movie I refer.
Best superhero movie? Some would say Iron Man. Yes, it was good. Spiderman, also a good trio. Superman - the original. Certainly a candidate. X-Men? Second one ranks in the top five. The Incredible Hulk? Eh. Ghost Rider. No. Hellboy. Cult classic, maybe, but no. It's Batman. Both of the most recent. The original and the sequel were good too. No doubt. But I think Nolan just has the pulse of the character. Awesome.
Box sets that were purchased for me. Star Wars. Indiana Jones. Star Trek. The Bourne Series. Back to the Future. Die Hard. Lord of the Rings. That should give you some indication of the my leanings as regards movies.
Which brings me to an opinion. I will not go to the movies to watch romantic comedies. I'll most likely not be watching those anyway. I won't go for comedies. I won't go for most dramas. I won't go for foreign films. It's not because I don't like the movies. It's because I'm cheap. Even the matinees are ridiculous. No, give me the special effects with big bangs and space shots and such.
Guilty pleasure. All of the Disney Pixar films.
Documentary? Tie between The Civil War and Baseball.
A movie that I will watch no matter how bad? Any underdog sports story. From the good ones like Hoosiers to the questionable ones like Little Giants. Mystery, Alaska. The Mighty Ducks. The Bad News Bears. Glory Road. Remember the Titans. Friday Night Lights. Can't help it. Gotta watch.
Best movie with no action whatsoever of any kind? Mindwalk. Awesome. If you can sit and watch people walk around Mont St. Michel, watch it.
Okay, I'm ready for my ice cream so I shall now reveal what I tell everyone is my favorite movie and what movie I really will watch over and over without stopping. The former? Shawshank Redemption. The latter? Back to the Future. Love the Delorian. Love the Flux Capacitor. Love the premise. Love the line, 'Who's Vice President, Jerry Lewis?' and 'Great Scott' and '1.21 Jigowatts'.
There you have it. Movies at a glance, TD style. And now I must be off...
'Roads? Where we're going, we don't need roads...'
Sunday, September 21, 2008
End of a Journey
It's over. The last first pitch. The last last pitch. The last homerun. The last out. The final winning pitcher. The final losing pitcher. The final game at the Cathedral of baseball.
And the Yankees won.
But I'll back up a moment. Because today represents the reason I love this season. The end of summer, the beginning of fall. Baseball's pennant races; Football's surprises. The game I was genetically predisposed to love; The game I learned to love by playing, against all odds. All of it in a day.
I woke at 9 and went into the living room. ESPN and CBS and Fox pre-game programming. Let's get to it. At 10 I expected to see some random game like Arizona V. Washington - since Seattle didn't play until 1. But no... Ho, what is this? Giants V. Bagels. Awesome! I sit myself on the couch with some Honey Smacks and start talking at the television. Every once in a while I laugh at myself realizing I'm sounding like my uncle and grandfather. I shrug the thought off and keep talking, scaring the dogs every once in a while with a 'You're dead!' or 'What are you thinking!?'
With about a minute until halftime, I get a call from a friend who happens to be a huge Jaguars fan. He asks if I'm still planning on watching the later games with him and our mutual friend at a local restaurant named Sport. Ready and waiting, I tell him. We agree to meet there early to beat the rush for the later games. About noon.
That's when I arrive. I make my way back to the bar where I see hats and jerseys of every type. Panthers. Eagles. Bears. Seahawks. Cowboys. I have added the Giants to the mix.
Much to my chagrin, they are showing the Cardinals/Redskins, Bears/Bucs, Dolphins/Pats, and Panthers/Vikings games on the four televisions above the bar. Raiders/Bills was playing behind us. But no Giants. Finally, my friend spots a television across the restaurant in a far corner playing the Giants game. Sheesh!
So, I'm watching the Giants game from afar while spying five other games. And there's a beer in front of me. All is right with the world. There come eruptions of applause form every corner of the place at different intervals. A check of all the games will tell you which game has prompted the response. Orton getting spun. Trent Edwards leading his team down the field to try to catch up again. Ronnie Brown scoring a TD. Ronnie Brown scoring a TD. Michael Turner running. Gus Frerotte trying. Randle El leaping. Ronnie Brown scoring a TD. From afar, Carney kicking another FG.
The games are coming to a close. Bears/Bucs coming down to the wire. Giants/Bagels too. Dolphins pummeling the Pats. Cardinals close. Panthers letting it slip away. The Raiders driving.
I have to go watch this up close, I tell my friend. I get up and watch the final Bagel series. In front of me, there sit about 20 - no exaggeration - Philly fans cheering Palmer, Chatman, Perry, and the other multivarious Bagels. I hold my tongue as Graham kicks the FG. OT. I return to the table to find that the Bears/Bucs are going to OT as well. They switch the Dolphins/Pats game to the Giants/Bagels. I watch both games back and forth. Plus the Raiders/Bills game behind me. Loving it.
Long story, short, Carney kicks. Good! Okay, I can breathe. Bucs win. Fine with me. The Bears fans leave in a huff. Bills pull it out. Game winning field goal. I can't help but chuckle anytime I see the Bills have a game on the line that they can win by a field goal in the final seconds. Mean? Yes. But, hey, I'm allowed.
The second round of games start. Not as many, but enough to have one of each on the televisions. Eagles/Steelers. Go Steelers, except I need Westbrook to score a lot for fantasy. Westbrook goes down. Oy! There's Saints/Broncos. Couldn't really care less. Seahawks/Rams. Remember if the Seahawks lost I vowed to write them off. They didn't. They can stay for another week. Lions/49ers. Umm... And Colts/Jaguars. I was there to support my friend. What a game. The best to watch, in fact. Back and forth and back again. Jags seize the day on the second to last play. FG.
And there's still the Cowboys/Packers game. My friends want to go to another bar. Nah, I said. I'm done with bars for the day.
When I arrived home, I found the following text from the old man: 'Tonight is the last at the stadium. Now I truly appreciate our day. It started with Grandfather Morrell and ended with MY sons. Thank you.'
The football that day had been awesome, enjoyable, and all that. But now, I had to watch the final game, media circus that it was. No, I didn't catch all the ceremony that preceded the game. I was, however, sitting on my couch for the first pitch thrown by Andy. I watched as the night unfolded. The sparkle of cameras like stars in a field of black. The Orioles were there for show, to be honest. There was no way in hell that this final game at Yankee Stadium would spell the entry of the Red Sox into the playoffs. I don't doubt that the Orioles played hard and to win, but they had to know it wasn't happening. That can be some other night. This night was reserved for the Yankees.
I felt that sense of history. The greats. Derek. Joe D. The Mick. Lou. Mariano. Thurman. Roger. Yogi. Reggie. Whitey.
The Babe.
All of them were there in some way or another. I'm sure Joe Torre was watching from afar. With Casey and Miller and Ralph and Billy and Joe all haunting the place with their dirt kicking, double speaking, and ass chewing.
After the final lap around the stadium. And after all the pictures and the pomp, they ended with Yogi. 'I'm not gonna miss this place because it's right here,' he said pointing to his heart. Yes, I know that final tribute was meant to pull at the heartstrings. And if it were most anyone else, I'd chalk it up to nostalgic kitsch. But there was something in Yogi's face that made me believe him. For his age, for his experience, for his intelligence, I can say by looking at him that he has never lost that quality of loving the game as would any little boy. And in that final look into his eyes across the television, I was reminded of my grandfather Klemenz.
A tear fell. Thank God I had made it to Yankee Stadium one last time. Thank God it was with my brother and father. Thank God we have that memory.
I enjoy football immensely, yes. But there's no game akin to baseball
And the Yankees won.
But I'll back up a moment. Because today represents the reason I love this season. The end of summer, the beginning of fall. Baseball's pennant races; Football's surprises. The game I was genetically predisposed to love; The game I learned to love by playing, against all odds. All of it in a day.
I woke at 9 and went into the living room. ESPN and CBS and Fox pre-game programming. Let's get to it. At 10 I expected to see some random game like Arizona V. Washington - since Seattle didn't play until 1. But no... Ho, what is this? Giants V. Bagels. Awesome! I sit myself on the couch with some Honey Smacks and start talking at the television. Every once in a while I laugh at myself realizing I'm sounding like my uncle and grandfather. I shrug the thought off and keep talking, scaring the dogs every once in a while with a 'You're dead!' or 'What are you thinking!?'
With about a minute until halftime, I get a call from a friend who happens to be a huge Jaguars fan. He asks if I'm still planning on watching the later games with him and our mutual friend at a local restaurant named Sport. Ready and waiting, I tell him. We agree to meet there early to beat the rush for the later games. About noon.
That's when I arrive. I make my way back to the bar where I see hats and jerseys of every type. Panthers. Eagles. Bears. Seahawks. Cowboys. I have added the Giants to the mix.
Much to my chagrin, they are showing the Cardinals/Redskins, Bears/Bucs, Dolphins/Pats, and Panthers/Vikings games on the four televisions above the bar. Raiders/Bills was playing behind us. But no Giants. Finally, my friend spots a television across the restaurant in a far corner playing the Giants game. Sheesh!
So, I'm watching the Giants game from afar while spying five other games. And there's a beer in front of me. All is right with the world. There come eruptions of applause form every corner of the place at different intervals. A check of all the games will tell you which game has prompted the response. Orton getting spun. Trent Edwards leading his team down the field to try to catch up again. Ronnie Brown scoring a TD. Ronnie Brown scoring a TD. Michael Turner running. Gus Frerotte trying. Randle El leaping. Ronnie Brown scoring a TD. From afar, Carney kicking another FG.
The games are coming to a close. Bears/Bucs coming down to the wire. Giants/Bagels too. Dolphins pummeling the Pats. Cardinals close. Panthers letting it slip away. The Raiders driving.
I have to go watch this up close, I tell my friend. I get up and watch the final Bagel series. In front of me, there sit about 20 - no exaggeration - Philly fans cheering Palmer, Chatman, Perry, and the other multivarious Bagels. I hold my tongue as Graham kicks the FG. OT. I return to the table to find that the Bears/Bucs are going to OT as well. They switch the Dolphins/Pats game to the Giants/Bagels. I watch both games back and forth. Plus the Raiders/Bills game behind me. Loving it.
Long story, short, Carney kicks. Good! Okay, I can breathe. Bucs win. Fine with me. The Bears fans leave in a huff. Bills pull it out. Game winning field goal. I can't help but chuckle anytime I see the Bills have a game on the line that they can win by a field goal in the final seconds. Mean? Yes. But, hey, I'm allowed.
The second round of games start. Not as many, but enough to have one of each on the televisions. Eagles/Steelers. Go Steelers, except I need Westbrook to score a lot for fantasy. Westbrook goes down. Oy! There's Saints/Broncos. Couldn't really care less. Seahawks/Rams. Remember if the Seahawks lost I vowed to write them off. They didn't. They can stay for another week. Lions/49ers. Umm... And Colts/Jaguars. I was there to support my friend. What a game. The best to watch, in fact. Back and forth and back again. Jags seize the day on the second to last play. FG.
And there's still the Cowboys/Packers game. My friends want to go to another bar. Nah, I said. I'm done with bars for the day.
When I arrived home, I found the following text from the old man: 'Tonight is the last at the stadium. Now I truly appreciate our day. It started with Grandfather Morrell and ended with MY sons. Thank you.'
The football that day had been awesome, enjoyable, and all that. But now, I had to watch the final game, media circus that it was. No, I didn't catch all the ceremony that preceded the game. I was, however, sitting on my couch for the first pitch thrown by Andy. I watched as the night unfolded. The sparkle of cameras like stars in a field of black. The Orioles were there for show, to be honest. There was no way in hell that this final game at Yankee Stadium would spell the entry of the Red Sox into the playoffs. I don't doubt that the Orioles played hard and to win, but they had to know it wasn't happening. That can be some other night. This night was reserved for the Yankees.
I felt that sense of history. The greats. Derek. Joe D. The Mick. Lou. Mariano. Thurman. Roger. Yogi. Reggie. Whitey.
The Babe.
All of them were there in some way or another. I'm sure Joe Torre was watching from afar. With Casey and Miller and Ralph and Billy and Joe all haunting the place with their dirt kicking, double speaking, and ass chewing.
After the final lap around the stadium. And after all the pictures and the pomp, they ended with Yogi. 'I'm not gonna miss this place because it's right here,' he said pointing to his heart. Yes, I know that final tribute was meant to pull at the heartstrings. And if it were most anyone else, I'd chalk it up to nostalgic kitsch. But there was something in Yogi's face that made me believe him. For his age, for his experience, for his intelligence, I can say by looking at him that he has never lost that quality of loving the game as would any little boy. And in that final look into his eyes across the television, I was reminded of my grandfather Klemenz.
A tear fell. Thank God I had made it to Yankee Stadium one last time. Thank God it was with my brother and father. Thank God we have that memory.
I enjoy football immensely, yes. But there's no game akin to baseball
Saturday, September 20, 2008
How I Met Buddy
When Joseph and I adopted Cleo in August 2005, we wondered if we should just adopt two of the puppies to ensure that Cleo had a playmate. But we agreed that we really didn't know how much work it would be to take care of a puppy AND we didn't want to change the dynamic in the house too much or too quickly - the cats wouldn't have forgiven us.
We watched as Cleo grew from a puppy who could fit on my chest to a puppy who could just about collapse my chest.
We enrolled her in puppy classes where she learned 'wait', 'sit', and 'take it' among other commands. We took her to dog parks and for walks whenever we could. At home we loved her and hugged her and played with her in the yard, and she loved every minute. Unfortunately for her, we couldn't play every minute of every day. We had to run errands and we wanted to enjoy some down time, never mind work. She therefore tried her paw playing with the cats, to no avail. The cats tolerated her to a point but then flipped up their respective tails and strolled to their kitty tower for a nap.
Joseph and I saw what was happening; we talked about a playmate for her. But Joseph wasn't as enthusiastic about a second puppy as he was about the first - not that he didn't want a second puppy mind you, but he was content with his little girl - and neither of us looked forward to the puppy issues like potty training, infections, and general training. At the same time, we realized that introducing another dog into a house where one dog already lives can be... challenging. If Cleo were to be overly territorial or protective, then the whole idea could be nixed.
Still, I wanted another puppy. I wasn't in a rush to find one, but I started some time after New Years 2006. Each day during my breaks at work and each night at home, I scanned craigslist and pets.com checking for pets. I saw rats and cats and bats. Okay, not bats. I read about goats and pigs and hens. There were snakes, lizards, tortoises. Even tarantulas. Ick. And of course there were dogs. Great Danes to Chihuahuas. Mutts of every breed.
I checked listings with and without photos. I even contacted a few people. But I had no luck. Until... At the beginning of February, I contacted a couple in Arlington, WA about a dog that they could not keep. The guy was in the navy and was about to be deployed to Iraq. And his girlfriend was pregnant and moving back to Ohio to be with her family. They said that they had rescued the dog from a kill shelter and didn't want to bring him back to that shelter.
After a few e-mails regarding the particulars, they sent a picture of their puppy, Buddy.
We watched as Cleo grew from a puppy who could fit on my chest to a puppy who could just about collapse my chest.
We enrolled her in puppy classes where she learned 'wait', 'sit', and 'take it' among other commands. We took her to dog parks and for walks whenever we could. At home we loved her and hugged her and played with her in the yard, and she loved every minute. Unfortunately for her, we couldn't play every minute of every day. We had to run errands and we wanted to enjoy some down time, never mind work. She therefore tried her paw playing with the cats, to no avail. The cats tolerated her to a point but then flipped up their respective tails and strolled to their kitty tower for a nap.
Joseph and I saw what was happening; we talked about a playmate for her. But Joseph wasn't as enthusiastic about a second puppy as he was about the first - not that he didn't want a second puppy mind you, but he was content with his little girl - and neither of us looked forward to the puppy issues like potty training, infections, and general training. At the same time, we realized that introducing another dog into a house where one dog already lives can be... challenging. If Cleo were to be overly territorial or protective, then the whole idea could be nixed.
Still, I wanted another puppy. I wasn't in a rush to find one, but I started some time after New Years 2006. Each day during my breaks at work and each night at home, I scanned craigslist and pets.com checking for pets. I saw rats and cats and bats. Okay, not bats. I read about goats and pigs and hens. There were snakes, lizards, tortoises. Even tarantulas. Ick. And of course there were dogs. Great Danes to Chihuahuas. Mutts of every breed.
I checked listings with and without photos. I even contacted a few people. But I had no luck. Until... At the beginning of February, I contacted a couple in Arlington, WA about a dog that they could not keep. The guy was in the navy and was about to be deployed to Iraq. And his girlfriend was pregnant and moving back to Ohio to be with her family. They said that they had rescued the dog from a kill shelter and didn't want to bring him back to that shelter.
After a few e-mails regarding the particulars, they sent a picture of their puppy, Buddy.
One look, and I was hooked. And when I showed Joseph, he was hooked too.
The only thing left to do was to see if Cleo accepted him. We planned a trip to Green Lake, which was approximately half way between our house and theirs. We would meet near the play fields.
When we arrived, we immediately recognized Buddy. Attached to him were a very young couple who were most likely no more than 20. We greeted each other and then let Cleo sniff Buddy's behind. She did. Then sniffed his face. She told him in dog speak not to piss her off and then she started sniffing the ground. We looked at Buddy's caretakers; they looked at us. We all shrugged. We all figured it was a success.
After transferring Buddy's crate and his other amenities to our car, we said goodbye and loaded the two dogs into the car. We rolled down the windows. Cleo took one side; Buddy took the other. And there's never been a problem since.
Friday, September 19, 2008
Ramblings: First Names
I'll put you on the spot. If you were to name a child, what name would you choose and why?
As I walked up to the cashier today at Papa Murphy's, I noticed her name tag. At first, I thought it said 'Dreamer'. Then, 'December'. But no, it was 'Deamber'. So, do you say that Dee Amber? Or Deem Bur? Or Deemer (silent 'b')? I didn't ask. But it did get me to thinking... Why do people choose the names they choose?
As I walked up to the cashier today at Papa Murphy's, I noticed her name tag. At first, I thought it said 'Dreamer'. Then, 'December'. But no, it was 'Deamber'. So, do you say that Dee Amber? Or Deem Bur? Or Deemer (silent 'b')? I didn't ask. But it did get me to thinking... Why do people choose the names they choose?
Time for Wikipedia... Up first, Romeo and Juliet. Say it with me now: 'What's in a name? that which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.' Did that help? Well, I think it means that names refer to people but can't particularly describe them. Good segue...
Bertrand Russell. Oh dear. Names can (1) describe and/or (2) refer. Well, that's not so bad. Russell said that names really should be used as reference only, but he admitted that English intertwines the reference and description too often. Let us take an example. Johnson. Son of John. Description of the fact that the person is the son of some person named John. And yet the name itself refers to that person named Johnson. Okay, okay... too much. I'll move on.
Then there was this guy named Kripke. He said something of import about the issue. And if you want to now what, I suggest reading the Wikipedia article about names. I think we have enough of a start.
So names can describe or refer. Good to know. What would you want a name to do? If you subscribe to Russell's theory, you should choose a name you like, a name that will refer to another without describing that person. Halnos. Qipterene. Vorox. Good, solid non-descriptive names. Problem: as soon as Halnos starts for the Oklahoma City Thunder and wins his first dunk contest, there'll be a Halnos dunk. Followed by the Halnos line of shoes and underwear and flying cars. Then all sorts of moms and dads will want their kids' names to be Halnos. Then you have Halnos Johnson and Halnos Smith and Halnos McCreedy and Halnos Gutierrez. The name thus becomes referential but also descriptive. I called him Halnos because of the guy on the Thunder. Did you see how he dunks? So, the kid named Halnos now has a reference name but also a name described as the same as that of a great slam dunker. Maybe this kid Halnos will be a great slam dunker too. Those are big shoes to fill... literally and figuratively.
And yet that's what most of the world's people do. They describe another human being with a given name. In Ghana, many of the children receive their first name based on the day on which they were born. Kofi Annan. Born on a Friday. And thus Kofi. In Jewish tradition, children are named for those who have died. If they are named for someone who's alive, it is said the angel of death might make a mistake and take the younger rather than the older. Freaky. Even 50 Cent. Yes, it really means something. Curtis James Jackson III took the name as a metaphor for change. 'The name was derived from Kelvin Martin, a 1980s Brooklyn robber known as "50 Cent". Jackson chose the name "because it says everything I want it to say. I'm the same kind of person 50 Cent was. I provide for myself by any means".' (50 Cent, Wikipedia)
So what of it, readers? What do you choose? Do you go with Russell and stick with the likes of Beezenarl and Deamber or do you go with the flow and choose Muhammad, Rachel, or Pedro? A tough choice.
I, for one, have names chosen. Gabriel Joseph - a powerful archangel and the father of Christ (as well as my partner's name). And Jada Nicole - because I like 'em. One of each. Now you choose.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Mere Minutes: Angry Woman Shouts at Real Change Vendor
The story you are about to read happened in a mere ten minutes...
Joseph came to my desk at noon today with a sparkle in his eye. He wanted something, and I knew before he said anything that I'd acquiesce.
'We're going to lunch tomorrow, right?'
'Yep' I replied.
'Well, then why don't you treat me to lunch today?' The grin widened.
I looked away for a moment and then back at him. 'Okay, let's go.'
Down we went through the bowels of the Darth Vader building and out through the front doors. Our destination, Subway on the corner of 3rd and Blanchard. We walked along the sidewalk against traffic on 4th when we came upon a woman - and someone who seemed to be a caretaker of some kind - selling Real Change.
Joseph came to my desk at noon today with a sparkle in his eye. He wanted something, and I knew before he said anything that I'd acquiesce.
'We're going to lunch tomorrow, right?'
'Yep' I replied.
'Well, then why don't you treat me to lunch today?' The grin widened.
I looked away for a moment and then back at him. 'Okay, let's go.'
Down we went through the bowels of the Darth Vader building and out through the front doors. Our destination, Subway on the corner of 3rd and Blanchard. We walked along the sidewalk against traffic on 4th when we came upon a woman - and someone who seemed to be a caretaker of some kind - selling Real Change.
TANGENT: On nearly every street corner in Seattle stands or sits a person selling a newspaper called Real Change. But The Real Change Homeless Empowerment Project is about more than just a newspaper. In the organization's own words, 'Real Change exists to create opportunity and a voice for low-income people while taking action to end homelessness and poverty.' (http://www.realchangenews.org/). The paper acts as just one facet for this empowerment. Vendors - commonly the homeless themselves - must pay $0.35 for each paper which they then sell for $1.00 (technically a donation). Though only a small amount, the act of selling gives the vendors a sense of responsibility and pride in the ability to earn the money rather than beg for handouts. TANGENT CONCLUDED
So, these women sitting on the corner of 4th and Blanchard asked us as we passed, 'Would you like to buy Real Change'? I smiled and said no. I don't carry money. Joseph, however, stopped and searched his jangling pockets from which his hand emerged with four quarters. He put them in the woman's hands and took from her a paper.
At that instant, there came from across the street - in front of Ralph's Grocery - something resembling a cross between a squeal and a hiss. Standing on the opposite corner was another homeless woman complaining in full voice about the purchase that Joseph had made.
From behind us, the other woman yelled 'You know this's our corner. You go away. I'm sellin' here.'
The other woman answered with some incoherent reply but made no move to cross the street.
Joseph and I exchanged glances wondering what had just happened. And then we promptly moved on to another subject as we headed towards Subway.
I suppose I should not have been surprised by that interchange between the two women since both are trying to earn their keep. I'd just never thought of Real Change vendors as being in competition.
That all happened in a mere ten minutes...
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
TD's Official NFL Picks - Week 3
Not good. Not good at all. No, I'm not talking about the bailout of AIG by the Fed, I'm talking about my picks for last week. Just terrible. I said two teams - teams that all the pundits said would make it deep into the playoffs - would be angry enough to pull out their first win. Well, Jacksonville and San Diego didn't pull it out. Okay, okay, Jacksonville more than San Diego. Ed Hochuli, yes, but I'm impressed that he's taking it on the chin and telling everyone the buck stops with him. And San Diego did lose to the Panthers on the last play of the game too. Still, 0-2. Maybe the Chargers have an excuse, but the Jaguars? Yes, injuries. Patriots anyone? Colts too? I don't buy injuries.
And then there's the NFC East. I have officially decided the the NFC West must yield its championship playoff spot to the second place winner of the NFC East since it looks like they're on the way to having both wild card berths this year.
Yes, there are other teams in the league too. And they're coming your way... NOW!
Kansas City V. Atlanta
Did anyone else think Kansas City was that bad? I mean, they couldn't run against the worst run defense in the league from 2007. Pitiful. I don't think I can pick them again until... maybe when they play the Raiders since by that time the Raiders should have a new coach. But more of that below. Oh yeah, Atlanta. Um, Matt Ryan, eh. Michael Turner, good. Lawyer Milloy, drunk and driving. Still, the entire Atlanta team could be drunk... and driving this week. And still win. TD chooses - Atlanta Falcons.
Oakland V. Buffalo
So, Al Davis said about Lane Kiffin, and I quote, 'He's not the guy I hired.' Okay? What this indicates is not that Lane Kiffin was somehow murdered by Mystique and replaced, but rather that Al Davis's delusions have finally bested him. Still, they won last week. How? See the first question of the matchup above. They won't be doing that again unless Buffalo collectively gets a big head and looks past this game. Which I don't think Dick Jauron will allow. Did I mention that Buffalo defeated Jacksonville last week? Well, we'll be finding out if Buffalo's for real in the coming weeks. As for this game, TD chooses - Buffalo Bills.
Tampa Bay V. Chicago
Former rivals within the NFC Central, these teams pose an interesting matchup. The Bears aren't quite there yet. Impressive against Indy, but lost a little flair against Carolina. Orton, improving. Forte, playing like he's been there. But then there's Tampa. I can't quite place Tampa. Coached well, I'd agree. But just missing something. Well, something more than a QB this weekend. And please don't wax poetic about Brian Griese. It'll be a good game, but TD chooses - Chicago Bears.
Carolina V. Minnesota
Good bye Tarvaris. Hello Gus? Ugh. Adrian and the D have their work cut out for them to stop from being 0-3. Meanwhile, the Panthers continue to surprise some. Let it be know that I'm not too surprised. Fox has 'em primed to play. Delhomme will be sacked a few times, but Frerotte won't be able to open the running game. It's another close one. TD chooses - Carolina Panthers.
Miami V. New England
Parcells is biding his time. He's no idiot. He doesn't expect to win this game, but he'll never put it past a team of his - whether he's coaching or sitting upstairs - to pull an upset. Belichick, meanwhile, has the burden of proof. He has to prove he's the genius. He already beat Brett the Jet - more because Mangini stayed conservative, but still. And he's not going to let his team get beat in this one either. TD chooses - New England Patriots.
Cincinnati V. New York Giants
So, before I boast of the Giants, let me just ask, what the hell is going on with the Bagels? Okay, so I'm taking it just a little personally because I chose Carson Palmer in FFL and he has exactly (-1.49) points for me this season. They have no running game, no D, no receiving core to be seen. They're terrible. I just don't get it. Where'd they all go? Oh, right, jail. As for the Jints, yes, I know, they played St. Louis last week. Still, 2-0 is 2-0. Just ask Minnesota and San Diego. TD chooses - New York Football Giants.
Houston V. Tennessee
Before the season began, I would have given this game to the Texans. Shows how much I know. Houston's still stuck in this rut from which they can't seem to free themselves. They have good receivers, a serviceable QB, and a coach who has learned to love RBs. But still, they're not overcoming the odds. And then there's Tennessee. Kerry Collins has been better than average. They have a real live consistent running back. And their receiving core is growing up fast. Not to mention the likes of Keith Bulluck and the rest of the D. TD therefore chooses - Tennessee Titans.
Arizona V. Washington
Arizona, I just don't believe you yet. I just don't. Kurt Warner will get hurt. Or Anquan Boldin will decide to walk out of the stadium never to play for them again. Or Larry Fitzgerald will be abducted by Saturnians. There's no reason for me to choose against you. Well, there are about 25 years worth of reasons. But not against Washington. Still, TD chooses - Washington Redskins.
New Orleans V. Denver
Many people told me that I shouldn't underestimate Denver at Mile High. I said San Diego had something to prove. Well, it's Denver that proved something to me last week. And Mike Shanahan, to boot. I won't underestimate them again, no matter how many offensive weapons New Orleans is purported to have. TD chooses - Denver Broncos.
Detroit V. San Francisco
The Return of the Martz? Not entirely appropriate since he's not exactly returning. The Revenge of the Martz? Yeah, I'll go with that. He has J.T. O'Sullivan slinging. Isaac Bruce and Bryant Johnson are catching. At least last week. And the Lions? They have a good receiving core and a better than average QB, but they're just terrible everywhere else. That's what happens when you take WRs in the first round every year since Wayne Fontes left. Same old, same old. Overall, the game's the goat of the week. TD chooses - San Francisco 49ers.
St. Louis V. Seahawks
Did I say that game was the goat of the week? Well, then I'll clarify. That's the billy goat. And this one's the nannie goat. Someone has to win, and by the looks of it, St. Louis should be playing in Division I-AA. I think Delaware'd beat 'em. At least Seattle could hang in there with UCONN. But, so help me God if the Seahawks let me down, they're going the way of the Chiefs this year. TD chooses - Seattle Seahawks.
Cleveland V. Baltimore
No love lost here. Cleveland's looking for a win. Baltimore's just looking to play. Cleveland has a good shot to win this game. I think they're a good team that's been shoved into the limelight too quickly. They're still building. And the likes of Dallas and Pittsburgh to start their season was too much. But against the Ravens and a young QB, I think they can pull it out. I haven't given up on them yet. Remember they still play the Bagels twice. TD chooses - Cleveland Browns.
Jacksonville V. Indianapolis
I almost made this my game of the week. But with all the injuries on both teams, I've decided to make it the medical emergency of the week. I appreciate the way that Manning willed his team to win next week. It could go down as one of the best wins of his career. But Ugoh's gone now too. And Saturday. And Clark. Are ya kidding me? Then there's Jacksonville. Lost two linemen up front. Jones-Drew a question mark. Oy! It's still an important divisional game. The Colts at 1-1 can take the lead. The Jaguars, by winning, can tie them and force the issue. Who then? Who? Magic 8-Ball? Ask again later. Thanks. Okay, TD chooses - Jacksonville Jaguars.
Pittsburgh V. Philadelphia
The battle of Pennsylvania. Pittsburgh, strong QB, strong RB, good receiving core, good D. Philly, strong QB, strong RB, fair receiving core, better than average D. The D will make the difference in this one, though it will be close. TD chooses - Pittsburgh Steelers.
New York Jets V. San Diego Chargers
This past weekend, Mangini showed us all that he's doesn't quite know what he's got in Brett the Jet. And Brett will not yet bite the hand that fed him, especially so soon after the debacle that was his return. San Diego is on the verge of desperation and can't afford to lose another. They really are a better team than 0-2. The pundits believe it. The critics believe it. The talking heads believe it. Even Steve believes it, though his love for the Jets will never allow him to say so. And, yes, I believe it. TD chooses - San Diego Chargers.
PICK OF THE WEEK
Dallas V. Green Bay
It's the frozen tundra. It's Sunday night. Primetime audience. Perhaps an indication of what we might see come January. Dallas is strong. Very strong. Some say unbeatable. Green Bay's inexperienced. Rodgers won't hold up. The D can't stop the likes of Tony Romo and the mighty T. Eldorado Owens. Yeah. I've heard all that. And logic would tell me to agree. But there's something magical about prime time in Green Bay. For Tony and for the hope that good may conquer evil, TD chooses - Green Bay Packers.
And then there's the NFC East. I have officially decided the the NFC West must yield its championship playoff spot to the second place winner of the NFC East since it looks like they're on the way to having both wild card berths this year.
Yes, there are other teams in the league too. And they're coming your way... NOW!
Kansas City V. Atlanta
Did anyone else think Kansas City was that bad? I mean, they couldn't run against the worst run defense in the league from 2007. Pitiful. I don't think I can pick them again until... maybe when they play the Raiders since by that time the Raiders should have a new coach. But more of that below. Oh yeah, Atlanta. Um, Matt Ryan, eh. Michael Turner, good. Lawyer Milloy, drunk and driving. Still, the entire Atlanta team could be drunk... and driving this week. And still win. TD chooses - Atlanta Falcons.
Oakland V. Buffalo
So, Al Davis said about Lane Kiffin, and I quote, 'He's not the guy I hired.' Okay? What this indicates is not that Lane Kiffin was somehow murdered by Mystique and replaced, but rather that Al Davis's delusions have finally bested him. Still, they won last week. How? See the first question of the matchup above. They won't be doing that again unless Buffalo collectively gets a big head and looks past this game. Which I don't think Dick Jauron will allow. Did I mention that Buffalo defeated Jacksonville last week? Well, we'll be finding out if Buffalo's for real in the coming weeks. As for this game, TD chooses - Buffalo Bills.
Tampa Bay V. Chicago
Former rivals within the NFC Central, these teams pose an interesting matchup. The Bears aren't quite there yet. Impressive against Indy, but lost a little flair against Carolina. Orton, improving. Forte, playing like he's been there. But then there's Tampa. I can't quite place Tampa. Coached well, I'd agree. But just missing something. Well, something more than a QB this weekend. And please don't wax poetic about Brian Griese. It'll be a good game, but TD chooses - Chicago Bears.
Carolina V. Minnesota
Good bye Tarvaris. Hello Gus? Ugh. Adrian and the D have their work cut out for them to stop from being 0-3. Meanwhile, the Panthers continue to surprise some. Let it be know that I'm not too surprised. Fox has 'em primed to play. Delhomme will be sacked a few times, but Frerotte won't be able to open the running game. It's another close one. TD chooses - Carolina Panthers.
Miami V. New England
Parcells is biding his time. He's no idiot. He doesn't expect to win this game, but he'll never put it past a team of his - whether he's coaching or sitting upstairs - to pull an upset. Belichick, meanwhile, has the burden of proof. He has to prove he's the genius. He already beat Brett the Jet - more because Mangini stayed conservative, but still. And he's not going to let his team get beat in this one either. TD chooses - New England Patriots.
Cincinnati V. New York Giants
So, before I boast of the Giants, let me just ask, what the hell is going on with the Bagels? Okay, so I'm taking it just a little personally because I chose Carson Palmer in FFL and he has exactly (-1.49) points for me this season. They have no running game, no D, no receiving core to be seen. They're terrible. I just don't get it. Where'd they all go? Oh, right, jail. As for the Jints, yes, I know, they played St. Louis last week. Still, 2-0 is 2-0. Just ask Minnesota and San Diego. TD chooses - New York Football Giants.
Houston V. Tennessee
Before the season began, I would have given this game to the Texans. Shows how much I know. Houston's still stuck in this rut from which they can't seem to free themselves. They have good receivers, a serviceable QB, and a coach who has learned to love RBs. But still, they're not overcoming the odds. And then there's Tennessee. Kerry Collins has been better than average. They have a real live consistent running back. And their receiving core is growing up fast. Not to mention the likes of Keith Bulluck and the rest of the D. TD therefore chooses - Tennessee Titans.
Arizona V. Washington
Arizona, I just don't believe you yet. I just don't. Kurt Warner will get hurt. Or Anquan Boldin will decide to walk out of the stadium never to play for them again. Or Larry Fitzgerald will be abducted by Saturnians. There's no reason for me to choose against you. Well, there are about 25 years worth of reasons. But not against Washington. Still, TD chooses - Washington Redskins.
New Orleans V. Denver
Many people told me that I shouldn't underestimate Denver at Mile High. I said San Diego had something to prove. Well, it's Denver that proved something to me last week. And Mike Shanahan, to boot. I won't underestimate them again, no matter how many offensive weapons New Orleans is purported to have. TD chooses - Denver Broncos.
Detroit V. San Francisco
The Return of the Martz? Not entirely appropriate since he's not exactly returning. The Revenge of the Martz? Yeah, I'll go with that. He has J.T. O'Sullivan slinging. Isaac Bruce and Bryant Johnson are catching. At least last week. And the Lions? They have a good receiving core and a better than average QB, but they're just terrible everywhere else. That's what happens when you take WRs in the first round every year since Wayne Fontes left. Same old, same old. Overall, the game's the goat of the week. TD chooses - San Francisco 49ers.
St. Louis V. Seahawks
Did I say that game was the goat of the week? Well, then I'll clarify. That's the billy goat. And this one's the nannie goat. Someone has to win, and by the looks of it, St. Louis should be playing in Division I-AA. I think Delaware'd beat 'em. At least Seattle could hang in there with UCONN. But, so help me God if the Seahawks let me down, they're going the way of the Chiefs this year. TD chooses - Seattle Seahawks.
Cleveland V. Baltimore
No love lost here. Cleveland's looking for a win. Baltimore's just looking to play. Cleveland has a good shot to win this game. I think they're a good team that's been shoved into the limelight too quickly. They're still building. And the likes of Dallas and Pittsburgh to start their season was too much. But against the Ravens and a young QB, I think they can pull it out. I haven't given up on them yet. Remember they still play the Bagels twice. TD chooses - Cleveland Browns.
Jacksonville V. Indianapolis
I almost made this my game of the week. But with all the injuries on both teams, I've decided to make it the medical emergency of the week. I appreciate the way that Manning willed his team to win next week. It could go down as one of the best wins of his career. But Ugoh's gone now too. And Saturday. And Clark. Are ya kidding me? Then there's Jacksonville. Lost two linemen up front. Jones-Drew a question mark. Oy! It's still an important divisional game. The Colts at 1-1 can take the lead. The Jaguars, by winning, can tie them and force the issue. Who then? Who? Magic 8-Ball? Ask again later. Thanks. Okay, TD chooses - Jacksonville Jaguars.
Pittsburgh V. Philadelphia
The battle of Pennsylvania. Pittsburgh, strong QB, strong RB, good receiving core, good D. Philly, strong QB, strong RB, fair receiving core, better than average D. The D will make the difference in this one, though it will be close. TD chooses - Pittsburgh Steelers.
New York Jets V. San Diego Chargers
This past weekend, Mangini showed us all that he's doesn't quite know what he's got in Brett the Jet. And Brett will not yet bite the hand that fed him, especially so soon after the debacle that was his return. San Diego is on the verge of desperation and can't afford to lose another. They really are a better team than 0-2. The pundits believe it. The critics believe it. The talking heads believe it. Even Steve believes it, though his love for the Jets will never allow him to say so. And, yes, I believe it. TD chooses - San Diego Chargers.
PICK OF THE WEEK
Dallas V. Green Bay
It's the frozen tundra. It's Sunday night. Primetime audience. Perhaps an indication of what we might see come January. Dallas is strong. Very strong. Some say unbeatable. Green Bay's inexperienced. Rodgers won't hold up. The D can't stop the likes of Tony Romo and the mighty T. Eldorado Owens. Yeah. I've heard all that. And logic would tell me to agree. But there's something magical about prime time in Green Bay. For Tony and for the hope that good may conquer evil, TD chooses - Green Bay Packers.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
A Look Back: An Introduction to Freshman Honors English
September, 1995. My freshman year at the University of Delaware. Getting acclamated to a co-ed dorm. Wondering how I was going to endure two roommates named Chris - yet another story. Trying desperately not to feel homesick.
First day of classes. Honors Spanish. Good teacher. Great class. I still play fantasy football with a number of the people I met in that class. Also an International Relations class I would ace. Not so bad, I thought to myself as I journeyed back to the dorms. Those were the Monday/Wednesday/Friday classes.
The next day, I had English mid-morning. I had always had a love-hate relationship with English. That may seem strange to some of you. But it was true. I wasn't particularly fond of reading in high school. And I deemed all the English teachers overly dramatic abstractionists. They sounded more like bad psychologists than people who were teaching a subject. So, I wasn't particularly excited about the class.
I found the building - a chem lab named for some DuPont (Little Known Fact: The University of Delaware is publicly run but privately owned mostly by the DuPont and Gore - GoreTex - families. Delaware State University in Dover is the state school). I descended to the basement where I found a classroom reminiscent of one from a 1950s Catholic School. I entered hesitantly. Not the first person, but close. I sat in the one-piece chair-desk and waited. No one spoke.
The classroom filled with another 15 students. About 20 in all. There were a few people who knew each other. And thus a few random whispers. Enough to be really annoying, but not enough to have someone turn around and shoosh them.
We waited for 5 minutes. Then another 5. Still no one spoke. We didn't know the 15 minute rule yet.
She entered. A large woman with a bulldog face. She seemed to have brought a hurricane-forced wind with her. Books and papers flailing in her arms. She half dropped, half threw everything that barely stayed in her arms upon the table. We sat stunned.
She looked up with a grimace and paced the front of the room for a good 30 seconds before opening her mouth.
I paraphrase:
'This is Honors English. You will be reading a LOT. More than you've ever probably read in your life. If you're not ready to read, I suggest you don't come back. You will also be writing a LOT. If you're not ready to write, I suggest you don't come back. This class is difficult. And most of you probably won't do as well as you expect.' Then she looked us collectively in the eye with some mutant power acquired from some university in New York. 'I don't like you. And you'll most likely not like me. It's better that way. But anyone who does choose to stay will learn. Good day.'
With that she scooped into her arms in one motion the papers and books that laid about the table. And she was gone.
Some made a mad dash for the door, never to be seen on campus again. The rest, like me, sat stunned staring at the empty green chalk board. We had no words for what had happened. I returned to my dorm wondering if a life in gas pumping was really as bad as everyone suggested.
Whether out of stupidity or courage, I returned that Thursday to the basement of the chem lab. I watched the classroom fill with people who looked as if they were going to the hangman. There were 12 of us. Down about 10 from 2 days prior. We lingered as if wraiths on the cusp of dismal immortality.
She entered. Breezily. Gradually. Her papers and books neatened in her plump arms. She placed them down ever so lightly upon the desk and sat her body upon the desk. 'Now that we have that little episode out of the way, shall we get started?' We stared again, but this time with amazement at the reclining woman. 'Let me just say that I needed to separate the wheat from the chaff. But please don't misunderstand me. I meant everything I said during our first encounter except, of course, that line about not liking you. Just give me some time, and I'll learn to dislike you. But I have to give you the benefit of the doubt.' She smiled widely and delved into introductions.
First day of classes. Honors Spanish. Good teacher. Great class. I still play fantasy football with a number of the people I met in that class. Also an International Relations class I would ace. Not so bad, I thought to myself as I journeyed back to the dorms. Those were the Monday/Wednesday/Friday classes.
The next day, I had English mid-morning. I had always had a love-hate relationship with English. That may seem strange to some of you. But it was true. I wasn't particularly fond of reading in high school. And I deemed all the English teachers overly dramatic abstractionists. They sounded more like bad psychologists than people who were teaching a subject. So, I wasn't particularly excited about the class.
I found the building - a chem lab named for some DuPont (Little Known Fact: The University of Delaware is publicly run but privately owned mostly by the DuPont and Gore - GoreTex - families. Delaware State University in Dover is the state school). I descended to the basement where I found a classroom reminiscent of one from a 1950s Catholic School. I entered hesitantly. Not the first person, but close. I sat in the one-piece chair-desk and waited. No one spoke.
The classroom filled with another 15 students. About 20 in all. There were a few people who knew each other. And thus a few random whispers. Enough to be really annoying, but not enough to have someone turn around and shoosh them.
We waited for 5 minutes. Then another 5. Still no one spoke. We didn't know the 15 minute rule yet.
She entered. A large woman with a bulldog face. She seemed to have brought a hurricane-forced wind with her. Books and papers flailing in her arms. She half dropped, half threw everything that barely stayed in her arms upon the table. We sat stunned.
She looked up with a grimace and paced the front of the room for a good 30 seconds before opening her mouth.
I paraphrase:
'This is Honors English. You will be reading a LOT. More than you've ever probably read in your life. If you're not ready to read, I suggest you don't come back. You will also be writing a LOT. If you're not ready to write, I suggest you don't come back. This class is difficult. And most of you probably won't do as well as you expect.' Then she looked us collectively in the eye with some mutant power acquired from some university in New York. 'I don't like you. And you'll most likely not like me. It's better that way. But anyone who does choose to stay will learn. Good day.'
With that she scooped into her arms in one motion the papers and books that laid about the table. And she was gone.
Some made a mad dash for the door, never to be seen on campus again. The rest, like me, sat stunned staring at the empty green chalk board. We had no words for what had happened. I returned to my dorm wondering if a life in gas pumping was really as bad as everyone suggested.
Whether out of stupidity or courage, I returned that Thursday to the basement of the chem lab. I watched the classroom fill with people who looked as if they were going to the hangman. There were 12 of us. Down about 10 from 2 days prior. We lingered as if wraiths on the cusp of dismal immortality.
She entered. Breezily. Gradually. Her papers and books neatened in her plump arms. She placed them down ever so lightly upon the desk and sat her body upon the desk. 'Now that we have that little episode out of the way, shall we get started?' We stared again, but this time with amazement at the reclining woman. 'Let me just say that I needed to separate the wheat from the chaff. But please don't misunderstand me. I meant everything I said during our first encounter except, of course, that line about not liking you. Just give me some time, and I'll learn to dislike you. But I have to give you the benefit of the doubt.' She smiled widely and delved into introductions.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Breast Cancer 3-Day: Day Three
A day late and a dollar short...
NOTE: This is the third part of a three part series detailing the Breast Cancer 3-Day walk from a Walker Stalker's point of view. I recommend you read the first and second parts to have the full appreciation of the third...
The walkers' day began early. Most of them woke between 4 and 5 a.m. During breakfast, they persuaded Ashley to take it easy. Her feet, you see, were a mess. And however much her heart told her to go, her feet and her friends suggested otherwise. Julie called Maggie who went to pick her and Fernando up at 6:45. The rest of the team boarded school buses at Marymoor and proceeded to the University of Washington on the other side of the water. This was the final day. The final 20 miles. And they would spend it west of the lake.
Joseph called me to tell me what was happening. I got up, showered, ate, and called Maggie. They were going back to Maggie's house to make sandwiches. Meanwhile Maggie suggested I buy more water for the day. I proceeded to Safeway and bought another 7 gallons. That was over 20 gallons of water in three days.
I then drove into Seattle Center to park so that I could be ready after the closing ceremonies. Maggie and crew picked me up, and away we went.
We met the Pink Buzz at the second pit stop. Twiggy and Joseph wore their pink pirate hats. In fact, Twiggy, with that hat, looked like the second coming of a pink-garbed Errol Flynn, the epitome of a swashbuckler. Those hats would be our key to identifying them for the rest of the day.
They had three miles until their next stop. They walked and we drove. We decided we would go half way and set up our water, candy, and spritzing station. We discovered that half way was at Green Lake, a favorite spot to walk for Seattlites. On that day, Green Lake doubled as the largest cheering station we had seen. We circled the lake and chose a spot to stand. Maggie, meanwhile, went to retrieve her mother from Seattle Center.
We whooped, hollered, and hooted. We offered water, candy, and spritzing to thankful passersby. And as others discovered why we were there, they joined us until we became a cheering station unto ourselves. At one point, I reflected on how this dastardly disease brought random strangers together to cheer on these amazing walkers. There really aren't words for it.
Maggie arrived a short time later with her mother, another survivor, and after more cheering we made our way to Woodland Park. Fernando and Ashley would leave the ranks of the Walker Stalkers at that pit stop and walk the remainder of the trail. Joseph had his shin splints wrapped with plastic wrap. And the team used foot powder, mole skin, and countless bandaids to care for the myriad of blisters appearing on their feet.
It was also at that stop that a young, beautiful woman approached me randomly and asked if she could record my testimonial. I thought she was asking all three of us - I was standing with Ashley and Fernando at that point - but she was only asking me. I've never done particularly well in front of any kind of camera, but I couldn't deny this request. And so, when she began, I told her that I was supporting my partner and the Pink Buzz as a Walker Stalker. And that I was participating in memory of my godmother. I felt flushed as I finished. She thanked me.
From there, we went to find out where lunch would be. Gasworks Park. You could see Seattle across Lake Union from that park. Then we doubled back and did the candy, water, spritzing thing.
Lunch came and the team said they wanted to push it a bit more to get to Seattle Center by 3:30. We had about 20 minutes to eat - again the wonderful vittles prepared by Maggie - and then off we went. Yes, we. I had decided that I wanted to walk at least a short distance with the team to show solidarity and to encourage. From Gasworks, across the Fremont bridge, and down to the southwest corner of Lake Union, I walked with Joseph and Katrina. Along the way, people outside a supermarket in Fremont cheered for us. There was a cheer squad just before we crossed the bridge. And there was a random guy in a Seahawks jersey cheering us as we exited the bridge. There was a woman walking back to her car thanking us. There was an older gentleman sitting in a deck chair with a Scooby Doo stuffed animal sitting in an adjacent chair. There were kids offering Starburst and Skittles. There were two men with multiple facial piercings encouraging us onward. There was a small station handing out Dixie Cups of iced Gatorade. There was a guy with a hose just spraying. There were so many people. And I thank God I walked that short distance because I understood what the whole walk was about. It was about the walkers, yes. But it was about those random, voluntary acts of kindness being displayed at - literally - every corner.
Maggie, her mother, and Tammy - one of Julie's long-time friends - were standing in front of McCormick & Schmick's (a Seattle restaurant that I recommend). I decided to join them as Joseph and Katrina walked on.
After a quick stop at Starbucks, we set up for the last time and did the candy, water, spritzing as the walkers came up Fairview. We then followed the route through Seattle and down to just north of Pioneer Square. We took a right and found ourselves near the piers. We traveled adjacent to the Sound following the walkers until we came to the Sculpture Park. And then we decided that we would be best served parking near Seattle Center and cheering the team into the final stretch.
We parked, went into QFC, and Maggie purchased a huge butterfly balloon - which turned out to be a rather ingenious idea since that's how they saw us in the stands - for the closing ceremonies. We proceeded to the final stretch, meeting Julie's and Maggie's father as well as a couple of Fernando's friends. After seeing the team into the holding area, we went into Memorial Stadium - a football stadium - where the closing ceremonies would be held.
We sat in the sun, waiting as the stands became more and more crowded. On the field, extending from one end zone to the 50-yard line was what looked like the outlines of the Breast Cancer ribbon. It was an enclosure into which the people would be walking. Imagine, if you will, a giant fenced area in the shape of a ribbon on the outside. Then there is a smaller fenced area inside of that giant area. And then even a smalled fenced area inside that. And finally, a circle inside which there was a platform with a flagpole.
The inspirational music began. The volunteer crews dressed in green, orange, and red lined both sides of the path that the walkers would take into the largest of the enclosures. After they had outlined the path, the walkers, dressed in white, proceeded into that large enclosure. They kept coming. And coming. And coming. Over 3000 walkers. I felt the chill run down my spine. I felt my eyes welling at the catharsis of the moment.
Following the walkers were the crew. They in their multiple colors filled the second enclosure.
Finally, the survivors - maybe about 100 women - walked out proud and garbed in pink. Their arms interlocked. They share something I hope most of us never have to endure. As the speaker said, they share the memory of that pain that cancer causes.
And it was then that I realized that a few days of walking 60 miles, or in my case a few days spent supporting and cheering and waiting on these walkers, was nothing. Is nothing. As compared to what these men and women must endure. God, we need to eradicate this thing called cancer.
As the speaker spoke, I think most of the stadium reflected. And cheered. Wow, did they cheer. Such an uproar.
The ceremonies ended and we made our way as a team to West Seattle to have beer and pizza. The Pink Buzz could hardly walk. And do you blame them? They were exhausted.
And I must admit that never have I been prouder of my Buzz. Maggie, my partner in stalking. Elaine, the Pink Buzz adoptee. Twiggy, the Uncrustable eating swashbuckler. Fernando, the bellowing single-man cheer squad. Katrina, the rabbit-eared, tell-it-like-it-is strong woman. Tara, the focused, recycling go-getter. Ashley, the bad-footed, golden-hearted walker. Julie, officially one of my heroes. And Joseph, my charismatic and unconditionally loving partner.
If it's true that you win as a team and lose as a team, then the Pink Buzz just won BIG!
Thanks for reading...
NOTE: This is the third part of a three part series detailing the Breast Cancer 3-Day walk from a Walker Stalker's point of view. I recommend you read the first and second parts to have the full appreciation of the third...
The walkers' day began early. Most of them woke between 4 and 5 a.m. During breakfast, they persuaded Ashley to take it easy. Her feet, you see, were a mess. And however much her heart told her to go, her feet and her friends suggested otherwise. Julie called Maggie who went to pick her and Fernando up at 6:45. The rest of the team boarded school buses at Marymoor and proceeded to the University of Washington on the other side of the water. This was the final day. The final 20 miles. And they would spend it west of the lake.
Joseph called me to tell me what was happening. I got up, showered, ate, and called Maggie. They were going back to Maggie's house to make sandwiches. Meanwhile Maggie suggested I buy more water for the day. I proceeded to Safeway and bought another 7 gallons. That was over 20 gallons of water in three days.
I then drove into Seattle Center to park so that I could be ready after the closing ceremonies. Maggie and crew picked me up, and away we went.
We met the Pink Buzz at the second pit stop. Twiggy and Joseph wore their pink pirate hats. In fact, Twiggy, with that hat, looked like the second coming of a pink-garbed Errol Flynn, the epitome of a swashbuckler. Those hats would be our key to identifying them for the rest of the day.
They had three miles until their next stop. They walked and we drove. We decided we would go half way and set up our water, candy, and spritzing station. We discovered that half way was at Green Lake, a favorite spot to walk for Seattlites. On that day, Green Lake doubled as the largest cheering station we had seen. We circled the lake and chose a spot to stand. Maggie, meanwhile, went to retrieve her mother from Seattle Center.
We whooped, hollered, and hooted. We offered water, candy, and spritzing to thankful passersby. And as others discovered why we were there, they joined us until we became a cheering station unto ourselves. At one point, I reflected on how this dastardly disease brought random strangers together to cheer on these amazing walkers. There really aren't words for it.
Maggie arrived a short time later with her mother, another survivor, and after more cheering we made our way to Woodland Park. Fernando and Ashley would leave the ranks of the Walker Stalkers at that pit stop and walk the remainder of the trail. Joseph had his shin splints wrapped with plastic wrap. And the team used foot powder, mole skin, and countless bandaids to care for the myriad of blisters appearing on their feet.
It was also at that stop that a young, beautiful woman approached me randomly and asked if she could record my testimonial. I thought she was asking all three of us - I was standing with Ashley and Fernando at that point - but she was only asking me. I've never done particularly well in front of any kind of camera, but I couldn't deny this request. And so, when she began, I told her that I was supporting my partner and the Pink Buzz as a Walker Stalker. And that I was participating in memory of my godmother. I felt flushed as I finished. She thanked me.
From there, we went to find out where lunch would be. Gasworks Park. You could see Seattle across Lake Union from that park. Then we doubled back and did the candy, water, spritzing thing.
Lunch came and the team said they wanted to push it a bit more to get to Seattle Center by 3:30. We had about 20 minutes to eat - again the wonderful vittles prepared by Maggie - and then off we went. Yes, we. I had decided that I wanted to walk at least a short distance with the team to show solidarity and to encourage. From Gasworks, across the Fremont bridge, and down to the southwest corner of Lake Union, I walked with Joseph and Katrina. Along the way, people outside a supermarket in Fremont cheered for us. There was a cheer squad just before we crossed the bridge. And there was a random guy in a Seahawks jersey cheering us as we exited the bridge. There was a woman walking back to her car thanking us. There was an older gentleman sitting in a deck chair with a Scooby Doo stuffed animal sitting in an adjacent chair. There were kids offering Starburst and Skittles. There were two men with multiple facial piercings encouraging us onward. There was a small station handing out Dixie Cups of iced Gatorade. There was a guy with a hose just spraying. There were so many people. And I thank God I walked that short distance because I understood what the whole walk was about. It was about the walkers, yes. But it was about those random, voluntary acts of kindness being displayed at - literally - every corner.
Maggie, her mother, and Tammy - one of Julie's long-time friends - were standing in front of McCormick & Schmick's (a Seattle restaurant that I recommend). I decided to join them as Joseph and Katrina walked on.
After a quick stop at Starbucks, we set up for the last time and did the candy, water, spritzing as the walkers came up Fairview. We then followed the route through Seattle and down to just north of Pioneer Square. We took a right and found ourselves near the piers. We traveled adjacent to the Sound following the walkers until we came to the Sculpture Park. And then we decided that we would be best served parking near Seattle Center and cheering the team into the final stretch.
We parked, went into QFC, and Maggie purchased a huge butterfly balloon - which turned out to be a rather ingenious idea since that's how they saw us in the stands - for the closing ceremonies. We proceeded to the final stretch, meeting Julie's and Maggie's father as well as a couple of Fernando's friends. After seeing the team into the holding area, we went into Memorial Stadium - a football stadium - where the closing ceremonies would be held.
We sat in the sun, waiting as the stands became more and more crowded. On the field, extending from one end zone to the 50-yard line was what looked like the outlines of the Breast Cancer ribbon. It was an enclosure into which the people would be walking. Imagine, if you will, a giant fenced area in the shape of a ribbon on the outside. Then there is a smaller fenced area inside of that giant area. And then even a smalled fenced area inside that. And finally, a circle inside which there was a platform with a flagpole.
The inspirational music began. The volunteer crews dressed in green, orange, and red lined both sides of the path that the walkers would take into the largest of the enclosures. After they had outlined the path, the walkers, dressed in white, proceeded into that large enclosure. They kept coming. And coming. And coming. Over 3000 walkers. I felt the chill run down my spine. I felt my eyes welling at the catharsis of the moment.
Following the walkers were the crew. They in their multiple colors filled the second enclosure.
Finally, the survivors - maybe about 100 women - walked out proud and garbed in pink. Their arms interlocked. They share something I hope most of us never have to endure. As the speaker said, they share the memory of that pain that cancer causes.
And it was then that I realized that a few days of walking 60 miles, or in my case a few days spent supporting and cheering and waiting on these walkers, was nothing. Is nothing. As compared to what these men and women must endure. God, we need to eradicate this thing called cancer.
As the speaker spoke, I think most of the stadium reflected. And cheered. Wow, did they cheer. Such an uproar.
The ceremonies ended and we made our way as a team to West Seattle to have beer and pizza. The Pink Buzz could hardly walk. And do you blame them? They were exhausted.
And I must admit that never have I been prouder of my Buzz. Maggie, my partner in stalking. Elaine, the Pink Buzz adoptee. Twiggy, the Uncrustable eating swashbuckler. Fernando, the bellowing single-man cheer squad. Katrina, the rabbit-eared, tell-it-like-it-is strong woman. Tara, the focused, recycling go-getter. Ashley, the bad-footed, golden-hearted walker. Julie, officially one of my heroes. And Joseph, my charismatic and unconditionally loving partner.
If it's true that you win as a team and lose as a team, then the Pink Buzz just won BIG!
Thanks for reading...
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Breast Cancer 3-Day: Day Two
NOTE: This is the second part of a three part series detailing the Breast Cancer 3-Day walk from a Walker Stalker's point of view. If you haven't read the first part of this series, you may get a little lost...
Day two. I woke up at 8 and made it over to Maggie's house by 9. With cooler in hand and with the ten gallons of water we had purchased the day before, we made our way to I-90, crossed the lake, and exited in Kirkland.
First stop, an espresso stand - tough to believe they actually still exist in the Pacific Northwest - to load up on caffeine. Next stop, we wanted to backtrack and find the team. We found the walkers - it's tough to miss an endless line of approximately 3000 people wearing pink. Next, we drove the opposite direction the walkers were walking in order to find the team. On the way, we honked, hollered, waved our pom-poms, and otherwise cheered on the walkers. And they waved back. Once we made it to the trail from where the walkers were emerging - not on the street and not accessible by car - we texted and called the Pink Buzz Team to find out where they were. They hadn't yet made it that far, they told us. So, we drove up and back again honking... and well, you know.
When they did emerge, we parked and said good morning. Ashley and Katrina had taken the bus to lunch, their feet sore from the day before. Joseph, Elaine, Julie, Fernando, Tara, and Twiggy were at least bright-eyed if not fully bushy-tailed. But they had devised a cheer and a catchy one at that. Two taps to the chest with both hands while they said 'Whoop Whoop' and then there arms extended to the sky while they yelled 'Whoo'. A catchy little cheer that men and women were mimicking up and down the walking route. We would hear it from them and others all day.
After meeting with them, we made our way to a parking lot up one of the many, many hills the walkers would have to traverse. We turned the stereo up and offered water and Tootsie Pops. Same as yesterday. The walkers were grateful. Men and women from all over the United States. Texas, Virginia, New York, Massachusetts, Michigan... All over.
After the team passed, we got back into the van and headed out to Fred Meyer. Two spray bottles, mayo, and two bags of assorted candy later, we were back on the route figuring out what to do next. The team had reached a pit stop, so we stopped there. Then Maggie and I went to retrieve Ashley and Katrina from the lunch spot so they could help us cheer. And we set up shop in front of a behavioral health center, hoping we wouldn't be accosted.
The four of us - Maggie, Ashley, Katrina, and I - handed out water and the assorted candy. In addition, we spritzed. Oh, the spray, the walkers raved. We love the spray. By that time, it was already in the low 70s and these walkers were hot and sweating. To hear them tell it, there was nothing better in the world than two random people spraying them with water from generic spray bottles.
After we sprayed our team - and a few more of the teams that followed - we packed up the van and moved on to lunch. We dragged the cooler, the blanket, and a few chairs into a shady area near the lunch spot. Maggie had told me earlier that she had made nine sandwiches of turkey and havarti - and one of peanut butter and jelly for Twiggy who doesn't do turkey. But that wasn't all. She also bought lettuce, tomato, and onion. Still not all. She packed grapes - purple and white - and carrots. And, finally, she fried up some bacon. When the team saw the food, they almost fainted with joy (since the previous day's lunch had been a frozen chicken patty on dry bread). Applying the mustard - both dijon and regular - as well as the mayo we had retrieved from Fred Meyer, the team feasted.
After some stretching and foot care, the team was once again ready. The walk, Elaine announced, was half over. 'Go Pink Buzz!' followed by 'Whoop Whoop, Whoo!'
Maggie and I drove to a particularly sunny spot and spritzed away. We drove to the next pit stop and found the team stretching, eating, drinking, and using the bathroom. They looked tired. To tell the truth, they were tired.
It was during that pit stop that Joseph told me a story from the night before. There had been a girl on crutches during Day One. I noticed her. Well, everyone noticed her. And everyone gave her as much support as she could handle. Every once in a while, we'd drive to the back of the walker line and see her crutching along. Joseph told me that she was the final one to camp last night. She had made it 20 miles ON CRUTCHES. Remarkable!
We departed from the pit stop and came across a woman with her arms crossed. Since the thumbs down signal wasn't working as well the day before, the volunteer crew had decided to use the crossed arms signal to mean someone wanted to go to the next pit stop. We told them we weren't a sweeper van but that we were willing to transport. The woman who wanted a ride shrugged her shoulders and said, I'm getting in. So she did. We picked up another along the way. And then we pulled over to what we thought was a pit stop. We later discovered that it was only a cheering station - no drink, food, bathrooms, or medics - but when we returned we didn't see them there. Another sweeper must have retrieved them, we hoped.
We set up again as a spritzing station. People loved it.
We then went to the next pit stop. People were starting to drop more rapidly. Joseph's shin splints were hurting. Feet were blistered. Ankles were swollen. And the heat was getting to everyone. We packed Ashley, Katrina, and Fernando into the car. When we started moving, we received a call telling us to come get Joseph. The shin splints were too much. Sixty miles ain't no joke.
The five of us set up another spritzing station next to a horse farm. (I almost stepped in horse manure. Joseph did.) 'Whoop Whoop, Whoo!' We were almost a pit stop unto ourselves. Well, except for the medic and the bathrooms. But we did have water and candy; it was something.
From there we proceeded to the final pit stop before camp. The team caught up and we said our goodbyes. Joseph and Ashley wanted to go to camp; so we took them. The others continued on.
I'm tired right now, but I can't imagine how the walkers are feeling. And if I'm right, they shouldn't be feeling much right now except for the comforts of a blanket and a pillow.
Check back for tomorrow's final 20 miles.
Day two. I woke up at 8 and made it over to Maggie's house by 9. With cooler in hand and with the ten gallons of water we had purchased the day before, we made our way to I-90, crossed the lake, and exited in Kirkland.
First stop, an espresso stand - tough to believe they actually still exist in the Pacific Northwest - to load up on caffeine. Next stop, we wanted to backtrack and find the team. We found the walkers - it's tough to miss an endless line of approximately 3000 people wearing pink. Next, we drove the opposite direction the walkers were walking in order to find the team. On the way, we honked, hollered, waved our pom-poms, and otherwise cheered on the walkers. And they waved back. Once we made it to the trail from where the walkers were emerging - not on the street and not accessible by car - we texted and called the Pink Buzz Team to find out where they were. They hadn't yet made it that far, they told us. So, we drove up and back again honking... and well, you know.
When they did emerge, we parked and said good morning. Ashley and Katrina had taken the bus to lunch, their feet sore from the day before. Joseph, Elaine, Julie, Fernando, Tara, and Twiggy were at least bright-eyed if not fully bushy-tailed. But they had devised a cheer and a catchy one at that. Two taps to the chest with both hands while they said 'Whoop Whoop' and then there arms extended to the sky while they yelled 'Whoo'. A catchy little cheer that men and women were mimicking up and down the walking route. We would hear it from them and others all day.
After meeting with them, we made our way to a parking lot up one of the many, many hills the walkers would have to traverse. We turned the stereo up and offered water and Tootsie Pops. Same as yesterday. The walkers were grateful. Men and women from all over the United States. Texas, Virginia, New York, Massachusetts, Michigan... All over.
After the team passed, we got back into the van and headed out to Fred Meyer. Two spray bottles, mayo, and two bags of assorted candy later, we were back on the route figuring out what to do next. The team had reached a pit stop, so we stopped there. Then Maggie and I went to retrieve Ashley and Katrina from the lunch spot so they could help us cheer. And we set up shop in front of a behavioral health center, hoping we wouldn't be accosted.
The four of us - Maggie, Ashley, Katrina, and I - handed out water and the assorted candy. In addition, we spritzed. Oh, the spray, the walkers raved. We love the spray. By that time, it was already in the low 70s and these walkers were hot and sweating. To hear them tell it, there was nothing better in the world than two random people spraying them with water from generic spray bottles.
After we sprayed our team - and a few more of the teams that followed - we packed up the van and moved on to lunch. We dragged the cooler, the blanket, and a few chairs into a shady area near the lunch spot. Maggie had told me earlier that she had made nine sandwiches of turkey and havarti - and one of peanut butter and jelly for Twiggy who doesn't do turkey. But that wasn't all. She also bought lettuce, tomato, and onion. Still not all. She packed grapes - purple and white - and carrots. And, finally, she fried up some bacon. When the team saw the food, they almost fainted with joy (since the previous day's lunch had been a frozen chicken patty on dry bread). Applying the mustard - both dijon and regular - as well as the mayo we had retrieved from Fred Meyer, the team feasted.
After some stretching and foot care, the team was once again ready. The walk, Elaine announced, was half over. 'Go Pink Buzz!' followed by 'Whoop Whoop, Whoo!'
Maggie and I drove to a particularly sunny spot and spritzed away. We drove to the next pit stop and found the team stretching, eating, drinking, and using the bathroom. They looked tired. To tell the truth, they were tired.
It was during that pit stop that Joseph told me a story from the night before. There had been a girl on crutches during Day One. I noticed her. Well, everyone noticed her. And everyone gave her as much support as she could handle. Every once in a while, we'd drive to the back of the walker line and see her crutching along. Joseph told me that she was the final one to camp last night. She had made it 20 miles ON CRUTCHES. Remarkable!
We departed from the pit stop and came across a woman with her arms crossed. Since the thumbs down signal wasn't working as well the day before, the volunteer crew had decided to use the crossed arms signal to mean someone wanted to go to the next pit stop. We told them we weren't a sweeper van but that we were willing to transport. The woman who wanted a ride shrugged her shoulders and said, I'm getting in. So she did. We picked up another along the way. And then we pulled over to what we thought was a pit stop. We later discovered that it was only a cheering station - no drink, food, bathrooms, or medics - but when we returned we didn't see them there. Another sweeper must have retrieved them, we hoped.
We set up again as a spritzing station. People loved it.
We then went to the next pit stop. People were starting to drop more rapidly. Joseph's shin splints were hurting. Feet were blistered. Ankles were swollen. And the heat was getting to everyone. We packed Ashley, Katrina, and Fernando into the car. When we started moving, we received a call telling us to come get Joseph. The shin splints were too much. Sixty miles ain't no joke.
The five of us set up another spritzing station next to a horse farm. (I almost stepped in horse manure. Joseph did.) 'Whoop Whoop, Whoo!' We were almost a pit stop unto ourselves. Well, except for the medic and the bathrooms. But we did have water and candy; it was something.
From there we proceeded to the final pit stop before camp. The team caught up and we said our goodbyes. Joseph and Ashley wanted to go to camp; so we took them. The others continued on.
I'm tired right now, but I can't imagine how the walkers are feeling. And if I'm right, they shouldn't be feeling much right now except for the comforts of a blanket and a pillow.
Check back for tomorrow's final 20 miles.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Breast Cancer 3-Day: Day One
For the next three days, this blog will detail the 3-Day walk to cure breast cancer from a Walker Stalker's point of view.
A few things before I begin.
A few things before I begin.
- The Breast Cancer 3-Day is a 60-mile walk over a 3-day period.
- Each walker MUST raise $2200 to walk. (NOTE: Click the link to the top right side of this blog's screen and donate to a VERY worthy cause.)
- Anyone can walk. But you have to sign up for the event first. There are survivors. Family members and friends of loved ones who have survived. And of those who have died. Even people who feel a sense of solidarity with attempting to eradicate breast cancer but who have not been personally affected by breast cancer.
- Walkers usually create teams composed of friends, family members, co-workers, and acquaintances.
- The walkers walked 20 miles today on the East Side (Bellevue, Redmond) and will then continue with 20 miles both Saturday and Sunday. They will finish at Seattle Center (where the Space Needle is) on Sunday afternoon. Each night - tonight and tomorrow night - they sleep in tents at Marymoor Park.
- Every 2-3 miles the walkers must stop at 'pit stops' to eat, drink, refill their bottled water, and go to the bathroom. If each walker doesn't do each of these things at each pit stop, it means there is most likely a problem.
- During those 2-3 mile 'hikes' there are white vans available to 'sweep' people who are unable - for whatever reason - to make it to the next pit stop. Those people are therefore transported to the next pit stop and can decide if they'd like to continue walking or be transported to the following pit stop.
- In addition to all the volunteer staff working at the pit stops and in the vans, there are Walker Stalkers. These Walker Stalkers are engaged in any assorted number of activities throughout the day including, but not limited to, honking and cheering from the car, refilling water bottles during the 'hikes', carrying team members who would like to rest for part or all of a given 'hike', run to the supermarket for requested items, playing loud inspirational music... well, you get the idea.
With that information, some of what I will tell you will make more sense. So, without further adieu...
The Team: The team I coached this past year was named the Buzz. (And yes, that story will come, but not tonight.) On the Buzz there played a woman named Julie, who happens to be a Breast Cancer survivor. Well, because the team was so close, a core of them decided to do the walk together as a team. They call themselves the Pink Buzz. Who else is on the Pink Buzz? So, some of these names may mean nothing to you, but here they are anyway... Elaine, Twiggy, Tara, Ashley, Fernando, Katrina, and Joseph. Yes, my partner Joseph. They are, as I type, slumbering down in their tents in Marymoor Park. There are two full time Walker Stalkers - at least there were today - Julie's sister, Maggie, and me.
The Day: Joseph awoke at 4 a.m. He left at just before 5 and made his way to West Seattle - where Julie lives - and took a limo with the Pink Buzz walkers to the East Side. I tried to sleep in, but the dogs were up and so was I. I had breakfast and surfed the web until about 8:15 when Maggie arrived. With the pink and white window paint as well as with the other accessories, we decorated her mini van. And off we went. At Safeway, we got water and gas. And we were on our way. We finally arrived at the first or second - I don't remember - pit stop and found the team at approximately 10.
We found them in the midst of some morning angst, that anticipation of a grueling, but emotionally fulfilling day. After a short talk and after they unloaded some of the items they didn't need, they were off. And we proceeded on down to the next pit stop honking and flailing pom-poms along the way. Can you imagine me with a pink pom-pom? Well, it was for a great cause so I didn't care.
We drove to the next pit stop. Then to the lunch spot - a beautiful park. We doubled back and cheered the walkers. Then we turned around again - a lot of that today - and set up in a random spot about a mile before the next pit stop. We offered water and Tootsie Pops to appreciative passersby - including our team members. It was at that stop that a volunteer - who was monitoring crossing at a smaller intersection - came up to us and asked us to take a gentleman to the next pit stop. Sure, we said and we began to rummage through the items in the back seat, making room. Then the volunteer asked Maggie to call it into Command 1. Huh? Aren't you a Pick Up Van, he asked. Oh, no, we're not, but we can take him. Oh, he said, you can't. I thought you were a sweeper van. The flushed gentleman retreated to the shade as the volunteer aplogized. Maggie and I traded glances and shrugged. Must be the liability, we agreed.
We met the team at the next pit stop. They ate, drank, refilled, and went to the bathroom. Just as they were supposed to do.
They started again. And we continued doing what we were doing. Tootsie Pops and water. In addition, every once in a while, we saw, as we passed walkers, people giving us the thumbs down signal. Did they want us to stop hooting and hollering? Maggie and I weren't sure. So we continued on.
Then we started to get it. They weren't turning their thumbs down at us because they were upset. That was the signal for a ride. They, like the volunteer and the flushed man to whom we spoke earlier, thought we were a sweeper van. But there was no way we could tell all of those people that we weren't a sweeper van. Maggie and I wondered if we should just go park somewhere and cheer. Or if we should just go to pit stops. But, no, we agreed, we were Walker Stalkers and we were going to stalk.
So we did. We met up with the team as well as some of Julie's co-workers, friends, and even her father at lunch. The walkers weren't particularly impressed with their lunch. Julie's friend, Beth, had supplied lunch for Maggie and me, which I must say was rather good. I felt a little bad. But Maggie and I agreed that we would provide better lunches tomorrow. The job of the Walker Stalker.
After lunch, Katrina decided that she needed a little time away from walking. We took her in the car and continued our stalking. Still, we saw multiple thumbs down. We didn't stop. We let Katrina out to meet back up with the walkers and then set up shop passing out Tootsie Pops and water yet again.
Back in the car. We needed more water. Ten gallons from Safeway. And gum. Julie and the team wanted gum. So we got gum. We met back up with them at another pit stop. Fernando and Ashley wanted to join us in the car. So they did and off we went to scope out the next pit stop. On our way, we saw a group of women turning their thumbs down at us. There had to be at least 15 women sitting there. No shade around. No pickup van in sight. We traveled a bit more down the road talking about how that was just a travesty. And after we had worked ourselves up enough, we agreed that we were going to help, if only a little. Maggie turned the car around and we went back to the group.
We took three of them. We explained that we weren't really a sweeper van, and they couldn't have cared less. Just help us out. Okay, then hop in, we said. And away we went.
That next pit stop, we later discovered, would be our last for the day. We took pictures and ate Uncrustables. (They're rather good.) We then loaded Ashley, Fernando, and Katrina into the car and headed for the next pit stop. But we were right by Microsoft. And it was Friday. And it was 4:30. Imagine 95 in southern CT or the 91-95 interchange at rush hour - for those of you in CT - and you'll understand what happened. We doubled back and stopped for the last time. Tootsie Pops and water. With the three walkers in the car, we all made an executive decision to bring them to Marymoor Park, where they would be sleeping for the night. And so we did.
With traffic only getting worse, we called up the rest of the team and told them that we were going home. And so we did.
I will leave you with some of my favorite t-shirts, stickers, and slogans of the day:
- T-shirt: Help Save These! Ask How!
- Slogan: I Fight Like a Girl
- T-shirt: Help the Beaver. Save Her Two Friends!
- Team T-Shirts: Breast Friends
- T-Shirt: I'm Here for the Boobs
- Slogan: Save the Ta-Tas!
And finally, my favorite:
- Save Second Base
More tomorrow...
Thursday, September 11, 2008
A Look Back: September 11, 2001
Growing up, I heard the question asked, 'Where were you when Kennedy was shot?' Every American born before 1958 had a story. Their world stopped on that day. The first assassination of a U.S. President in recent memory. And a beloved president at that. The funeral ensued. Little John saluting the casket. The drums and the clip clop of horses' hooves.
Now, every American born before 1996 has a story. Where you were when the planes hit?
I had arrived just a couple weeks before at St. John's Seminary in Boston, MA for my second year of pre-theology. Classes had already begun. We seminarians were getting reacquainted with the busy schedule. Tuesday mornings meant Morning Prayer in the small chapel for the pre-theologians. Young and middle-aged men dozing in the padded chairs before the tabernacle. A warm, hushed place of comfort.
We all went down for a quick breakfast and then back up to our rooms. I didn't have class that day until the afternoon, so I lounged around the hallway with the others. I remember having a disagreement with a friend, though about what I can't say for sure. And then we went into our rooms to sulk. I came out of the room at about 8:55 and a new pre-theologian named Dan Kennedy - imagine a Kennedy in Massachusetts - was walking down the hallway toward the third floor common room. He said - in passing - 'a plane just hit one of the World Trade Center buildings; it must have been an accident'. 'What?' I knocked on my friend's door and told him. We walked down to the common room together.
As I walked into the room, I glanced at the television and literally saw the second plane crash into the second tower. The room - as I'd imagine most rooms in America did - froze. No one breathed. I sat. And we all proceeded to watch and listen to the live coverage. In fact, we sat and listened for three full hours. Numb. Stunned. We watched as the towers fell, seemingly demolished in an eerily controlled way. But how could it have been? We watched as news of the Pennsylvania plane - we all hoped an isolated incident not linked to what we were seeing - came across the airwaves. And the Pentagon plane. All too much. Airports shut down. Fears of attacks elsewhere in the US. Why not Los Angeles? Chicago? We all waited to see what would happen next.
Classes were canceled that day and Monsignor Lennon had a special prayer service in the chapel at 12:30. We heard the sound of jets in the sky. We felt the weight of the world.
I looked back to my journal entry on that day. I leave you with it:
9-11-01 SJB (Saint John's Bedroom)
8:35 a.m.
'It happens again. Formation strikes at the heart and soul. Escape is impossible if I open my heart. Where do I go now? The heat swarms around my tired form. A great weight upon my shoulders. Lord help me with the weight of this yoke.'
11:59 p.m.
'Thomas Merton warned that these attacks, these wars, begin with the sins of the world's people. We must all take some of the blame.
Lord God I pray for this world. We must pray. We must invite You into our lives. Come, Lord Jesus, though we are not worthy.'
Now, every American born before 1996 has a story. Where you were when the planes hit?
I had arrived just a couple weeks before at St. John's Seminary in Boston, MA for my second year of pre-theology. Classes had already begun. We seminarians were getting reacquainted with the busy schedule. Tuesday mornings meant Morning Prayer in the small chapel for the pre-theologians. Young and middle-aged men dozing in the padded chairs before the tabernacle. A warm, hushed place of comfort.
We all went down for a quick breakfast and then back up to our rooms. I didn't have class that day until the afternoon, so I lounged around the hallway with the others. I remember having a disagreement with a friend, though about what I can't say for sure. And then we went into our rooms to sulk. I came out of the room at about 8:55 and a new pre-theologian named Dan Kennedy - imagine a Kennedy in Massachusetts - was walking down the hallway toward the third floor common room. He said - in passing - 'a plane just hit one of the World Trade Center buildings; it must have been an accident'. 'What?' I knocked on my friend's door and told him. We walked down to the common room together.
As I walked into the room, I glanced at the television and literally saw the second plane crash into the second tower. The room - as I'd imagine most rooms in America did - froze. No one breathed. I sat. And we all proceeded to watch and listen to the live coverage. In fact, we sat and listened for three full hours. Numb. Stunned. We watched as the towers fell, seemingly demolished in an eerily controlled way. But how could it have been? We watched as news of the Pennsylvania plane - we all hoped an isolated incident not linked to what we were seeing - came across the airwaves. And the Pentagon plane. All too much. Airports shut down. Fears of attacks elsewhere in the US. Why not Los Angeles? Chicago? We all waited to see what would happen next.
Classes were canceled that day and Monsignor Lennon had a special prayer service in the chapel at 12:30. We heard the sound of jets in the sky. We felt the weight of the world.
I looked back to my journal entry on that day. I leave you with it:
9-11-01 SJB (Saint John's Bedroom)
8:35 a.m.
'It happens again. Formation strikes at the heart and soul. Escape is impossible if I open my heart. Where do I go now? The heat swarms around my tired form. A great weight upon my shoulders. Lord help me with the weight of this yoke.'
11:59 p.m.
'Thomas Merton warned that these attacks, these wars, begin with the sins of the world's people. We must all take some of the blame.
Lord God I pray for this world. We must pray. We must invite You into our lives. Come, Lord Jesus, though we are not worthy.'
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
TD's Official NFL Football Picks - Week 2
A friend of mine at work commented to me about a site that claimed to have 'picks' for the NFL's Week 1 games. Unfortunately, he explained, the writer didn't really pick the teams. Instead, he made the picks 'Unofficial' and proceeded to hit with the one-liners. Funny one-liners in some instances, but nothing with which we could hold him accountable.
Well, the picks that I make are TD's Official Picks. Sure, I may throw a one-liner in there. Maybe even two - not sure if I mean a two-liner or two one-liners. In any case, after I'm finished with each blurb, you'll have no doubt who I'm choosing.
Oh, and I'm not going to be picking against the Vegas odds. And I'm not going to try to anticipate the score. First, it's just too much for my addled brain. Second, I'm really not good at it. Not that I can claim to be good at choosing the winners either.
I hope to do this every Wednesday during the football season. And yes, I'll even keep a running tally to show you whether I am a divinator - 'Davinator' - or not.
I know, I know. I missed the first week. It's a wash. I don't have a Delorian with a flux capacitor, so that's that. You'll get a good 15 weeks outta me, as well as playoffs...
So without further adieu...
Tennessee V. Cincinnati
Cincy looked like the Bagels of old this past week. And I can only imagine that Carson is flipping his lid at the antics of Ocho Loco. Yet, it seems the Titans have one-upped the Bagels with their own dysfunction. The cops actually had to help Jeff Fisher find Vince Young. Umm... To be honest, I have no idea who to choose. But based on Chris Johnson's running and the fact that Kerry Collins can be serviceable at times, TD chooses - Tennessee Titans.
Buffalo V. Jacksonville
I like the matchup. Buffalo, I think, has come to play this year for this first time since the mid-90's. They're gonna make this a game. But Jacksonville's pissed. There's really no better word for it. I don't think Del Rio's going to let 'em lose another. TD chooses - Jacksonville Jaguars.
Oakland V. Kansas City
A game that will influence the season how much? If your answer was not at all, you're right. Still, someone must win. The Chiefs were rather pesky last weekend against a diminished, though still good, Patriots team. Meanwhile, Oakland... well... sucked. TD chooses - Kansas City Chiefs.
Indianapolis V. Minnesota
This is one of the most intriguing games of the weekend. Minnesota was supposed to have been a team that will go far into the playoffs - perhaps even to the Super Bowl. Meanwhile, the Colts with Dungee at the lead and Peyton at the helm is supposed to be nearly unstoppable. So, how is it that both teams are 0-1? I'm afraid to say that I don't think Tarvaris is the answer. He wasn't good. If Minnesota wins, it will be Adrian and the D. As for Indy, their O-Line is gone. Yes, I know Peyton lost a lot of weight; yes, I know he's rusty. But honestly, when you're missing Jeff Saturday as well as a number of other starters on the front line, well, it's gonna be tough times for Peyton. So, who wins this week? I'm gonna say that Tarvaris doesn't improve but that AP runs all over Indy. TD chooses - Minnesota Vikings.
Chicago V. Carolina
Another intriguing matchup. This is the story of two teams who were expected to be 0-1. And they each shocked an AFC 'powerhouse'. In my playoff picks, I said that you should be watching out for Carolina. They have this weird tendency to have bad seasons followed by good. '02: 7-9, '03: 11-5, '04: 7-9, '05: 11-5, '06: 8-8, '07: 7-9. What happened in '07 to the Panthers? Jake Delhomme went down and the Panthers went with Steve DeBerg, Vinny Testaverde, Ryan Leaf, David Carr, and Neil O'Donnell. I think John Fox will have them back close to that 11-5 mark this year. But what of da Bears? Forte looked good. How's that feel Cedric? And Orton looked like he knew what he was doing. An intriguing matchup. TD chooses - Carolina Panthers.
Green Bay V. Detroit
Aaron Rodgers proved that he could play. And he has a good cast to help him along the way. Detroit? Random Fact: Last playoff win 1/5/92 against Dallas. Last one before that? 12/28/57. TD chooses - Green Bay Packers.
N.Y. Giants V. St. Louis
It's not a homer pick this week. St. Louis is, in fact, that bad. For anyone interested in Fantasy, stay away from everyone on their team. I had Holt last weekend, I know. TD chooses - New York Football Giants.
New Orleans V. Washington
I think Washington laid an egg against the Giants, but I just have a hard time believe they're that bad. Maybe they are, but I'm gonna give 'em some time. Oh, wait, it doesn't mean I'm gonna pick 'em. Did you see N'Orleans last week? I think they're the team everyone thought they'd be last year. As long as they don't have any major injuries - oh wait, Colston - they should be okay. TD chooses - New Orleans Saints.
Atlanta V. Tampa Bay
Ryan showed me something last week. As did Turner. The Falcons aren't going to be nearly as bad as everyone supposed. And with Garcia out this week, this turns into an interesting game. And a divisional game at that. I'll go out on a limb. TD chooses - Atlanta Falcons.
San Francisco V. Seattle
I live in Seattle. I promise my Seattlite friends that I'll root for the home team if they're not playing mine. I'll keep to that promise. But sheesh. Two healthy receivers. Count 'em. Not a running game in sight. I'm concerned for this team. If they - and the rest of the NFC West - keep up this pace, I'll formally suggest to Goodell that the NFC West should yield their division championship to another more deserving NFC Team. Anyway, I'm not too high on the rebuilding 49ers either. I guess... TD Chooses - Seattle Seahawks.
San Diego V. Denver
Like Jacksonville, San Diego's not happy. That last minute pass to Dante is not how they envisioned the start of their season. Denver? They beat the Raiders. Yeah, and I can beat a 4-year old in the 100-yard dash (if only barely). I like Royal. And Cutler is rather accurate. But there are too many questions in the Bronco D. TD chooses - San Diego Chargers.
Miami V. Arizona
Yipes. Umm. Chad Pennington V. Kurt Warner. No, no story line there. Ricky Williams V. Edgerrin James. I'm pulling at straws people. Oh, I got it. A team that is actually rebuilding versus a team that's perennially rebuilding. TD chooses - Miami Dolphins.
Baltimore V. Houston
I thought this was the year that Houston would surprise us. I almost thought about calling them my dark horse for the playoffs. But, eh. They weren't the Sam Houston Texans, they were the George Bush Texans. Baltimore, on the other hand, has at the helm a fellow ass-kickin chicken alum. TD chooses - Baltimore Ravens.
Pittsburgh V. Cleveland
Oh, Cleveland, I really wish it were true. I wish you were coming into your own. That you'd stand up to the bully Steelers in primetime and shove every last resenting guffaw down their gullets. And I even think you have it in you. But I think you'll get stage fright. It'll perpare you for the future spotlight this year, but Big Ben and Wee Willie Parker are gonna light you up, I'm afraid. TD chooses - Pittsburgh Steelers.
Philadelphia V. Dallas
During days when I was less kind, I would have rooted for injuries. Today, I only root for... the Giants. This one's gonna live up to the hype. They're not bitter rivals like the Skins and Boys, but there is the T.idiOt. story. And there's a rejuvenated Donovan. Okay, fine, it was against St. Louis. I know. But he didn't even have his best receivers on the field. This is Dallas, you'll say. They just dismantled the Browns pretty convincingly. Yes, I know that too. But Donovan's a gamer, and he's healthy. So's Romo. Okay, all these voices. Fine, though I hate to say it... TD chooses - Dallas Cowboys.
PICK OF THE WEEK
New York Jets V. New England:
What juicy stories in this one. The antithesis of the Miami / Arizona game. Belichick V. Mangini. The loss of Brady. Brett the Jet. A divisional game in a now wide open division. Can Cassel win? Will Randy play? So much. So much. But I won't linger on the story lines; you'll read about them all week. Instead, TD chooses: New York Football Jets.
Well, the picks that I make are TD's Official Picks. Sure, I may throw a one-liner in there. Maybe even two - not sure if I mean a two-liner or two one-liners. In any case, after I'm finished with each blurb, you'll have no doubt who I'm choosing.
Oh, and I'm not going to be picking against the Vegas odds. And I'm not going to try to anticipate the score. First, it's just too much for my addled brain. Second, I'm really not good at it. Not that I can claim to be good at choosing the winners either.
I hope to do this every Wednesday during the football season. And yes, I'll even keep a running tally to show you whether I am a divinator - 'Davinator' - or not.
I know, I know. I missed the first week. It's a wash. I don't have a Delorian with a flux capacitor, so that's that. You'll get a good 15 weeks outta me, as well as playoffs...
So without further adieu...
Tennessee V. Cincinnati
Cincy looked like the Bagels of old this past week. And I can only imagine that Carson is flipping his lid at the antics of Ocho Loco. Yet, it seems the Titans have one-upped the Bagels with their own dysfunction. The cops actually had to help Jeff Fisher find Vince Young. Umm... To be honest, I have no idea who to choose. But based on Chris Johnson's running and the fact that Kerry Collins can be serviceable at times, TD chooses - Tennessee Titans.
Buffalo V. Jacksonville
I like the matchup. Buffalo, I think, has come to play this year for this first time since the mid-90's. They're gonna make this a game. But Jacksonville's pissed. There's really no better word for it. I don't think Del Rio's going to let 'em lose another. TD chooses - Jacksonville Jaguars.
Oakland V. Kansas City
A game that will influence the season how much? If your answer was not at all, you're right. Still, someone must win. The Chiefs were rather pesky last weekend against a diminished, though still good, Patriots team. Meanwhile, Oakland... well... sucked. TD chooses - Kansas City Chiefs.
Indianapolis V. Minnesota
This is one of the most intriguing games of the weekend. Minnesota was supposed to have been a team that will go far into the playoffs - perhaps even to the Super Bowl. Meanwhile, the Colts with Dungee at the lead and Peyton at the helm is supposed to be nearly unstoppable. So, how is it that both teams are 0-1? I'm afraid to say that I don't think Tarvaris is the answer. He wasn't good. If Minnesota wins, it will be Adrian and the D. As for Indy, their O-Line is gone. Yes, I know Peyton lost a lot of weight; yes, I know he's rusty. But honestly, when you're missing Jeff Saturday as well as a number of other starters on the front line, well, it's gonna be tough times for Peyton. So, who wins this week? I'm gonna say that Tarvaris doesn't improve but that AP runs all over Indy. TD chooses - Minnesota Vikings.
Chicago V. Carolina
Another intriguing matchup. This is the story of two teams who were expected to be 0-1. And they each shocked an AFC 'powerhouse'. In my playoff picks, I said that you should be watching out for Carolina. They have this weird tendency to have bad seasons followed by good. '02: 7-9, '03: 11-5, '04: 7-9, '05: 11-5, '06: 8-8, '07: 7-9. What happened in '07 to the Panthers? Jake Delhomme went down and the Panthers went with Steve DeBerg, Vinny Testaverde, Ryan Leaf, David Carr, and Neil O'Donnell. I think John Fox will have them back close to that 11-5 mark this year. But what of da Bears? Forte looked good. How's that feel Cedric? And Orton looked like he knew what he was doing. An intriguing matchup. TD chooses - Carolina Panthers.
Green Bay V. Detroit
Aaron Rodgers proved that he could play. And he has a good cast to help him along the way. Detroit? Random Fact: Last playoff win 1/5/92 against Dallas. Last one before that? 12/28/57. TD chooses - Green Bay Packers.
N.Y. Giants V. St. Louis
It's not a homer pick this week. St. Louis is, in fact, that bad. For anyone interested in Fantasy, stay away from everyone on their team. I had Holt last weekend, I know. TD chooses - New York Football Giants.
New Orleans V. Washington
I think Washington laid an egg against the Giants, but I just have a hard time believe they're that bad. Maybe they are, but I'm gonna give 'em some time. Oh, wait, it doesn't mean I'm gonna pick 'em. Did you see N'Orleans last week? I think they're the team everyone thought they'd be last year. As long as they don't have any major injuries - oh wait, Colston - they should be okay. TD chooses - New Orleans Saints.
Atlanta V. Tampa Bay
Ryan showed me something last week. As did Turner. The Falcons aren't going to be nearly as bad as everyone supposed. And with Garcia out this week, this turns into an interesting game. And a divisional game at that. I'll go out on a limb. TD chooses - Atlanta Falcons.
San Francisco V. Seattle
I live in Seattle. I promise my Seattlite friends that I'll root for the home team if they're not playing mine. I'll keep to that promise. But sheesh. Two healthy receivers. Count 'em. Not a running game in sight. I'm concerned for this team. If they - and the rest of the NFC West - keep up this pace, I'll formally suggest to Goodell that the NFC West should yield their division championship to another more deserving NFC Team. Anyway, I'm not too high on the rebuilding 49ers either. I guess... TD Chooses - Seattle Seahawks.
San Diego V. Denver
Like Jacksonville, San Diego's not happy. That last minute pass to Dante is not how they envisioned the start of their season. Denver? They beat the Raiders. Yeah, and I can beat a 4-year old in the 100-yard dash (if only barely). I like Royal. And Cutler is rather accurate. But there are too many questions in the Bronco D. TD chooses - San Diego Chargers.
Miami V. Arizona
Yipes. Umm. Chad Pennington V. Kurt Warner. No, no story line there. Ricky Williams V. Edgerrin James. I'm pulling at straws people. Oh, I got it. A team that is actually rebuilding versus a team that's perennially rebuilding. TD chooses - Miami Dolphins.
Baltimore V. Houston
I thought this was the year that Houston would surprise us. I almost thought about calling them my dark horse for the playoffs. But, eh. They weren't the Sam Houston Texans, they were the George Bush Texans. Baltimore, on the other hand, has at the helm a fellow ass-kickin chicken alum. TD chooses - Baltimore Ravens.
Pittsburgh V. Cleveland
Oh, Cleveland, I really wish it were true. I wish you were coming into your own. That you'd stand up to the bully Steelers in primetime and shove every last resenting guffaw down their gullets. And I even think you have it in you. But I think you'll get stage fright. It'll perpare you for the future spotlight this year, but Big Ben and Wee Willie Parker are gonna light you up, I'm afraid. TD chooses - Pittsburgh Steelers.
Philadelphia V. Dallas
During days when I was less kind, I would have rooted for injuries. Today, I only root for... the Giants. This one's gonna live up to the hype. They're not bitter rivals like the Skins and Boys, but there is the T.idiOt. story. And there's a rejuvenated Donovan. Okay, fine, it was against St. Louis. I know. But he didn't even have his best receivers on the field. This is Dallas, you'll say. They just dismantled the Browns pretty convincingly. Yes, I know that too. But Donovan's a gamer, and he's healthy. So's Romo. Okay, all these voices. Fine, though I hate to say it... TD chooses - Dallas Cowboys.
PICK OF THE WEEK
New York Jets V. New England:
What juicy stories in this one. The antithesis of the Miami / Arizona game. Belichick V. Mangini. The loss of Brady. Brett the Jet. A divisional game in a now wide open division. Can Cassel win? Will Randy play? So much. So much. But I won't linger on the story lines; you'll read about them all week. Instead, TD chooses: New York Football Jets.
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