Christmas Wishes: Love, Actually....Not So Easy

When we come to the crossroads of Christmas & New Years Eve Avenue, the thoughts spinning in our minds have shifted many times, and in many ways. The shopping, the search for gifts for friends (and foes) alike, and the preparations to make it the best of Christmases have all circled our minds for a solid month. (Talk about time suck...)

For the single souls, the idea of making a love, actually connection also flies in for a weekender. The idea of a soulmate popping up in our busiest season when all people are rushing about for the hot games to play on the Xbox (I could go on some porn rant here, but I won't) seems a bit too Love, Are You Kidding Me?

I happened to be in the single DNA pool during the season. We all know why. No need to rush to that therapy couch, or dig up some old photos, or talk to someone that knew me from high school. It's obvious - and I've talked enough about it to give Dr. Phil/Dr. Oz brain cancer via auditory violations of their senses.

What I do know is I have substituted for love the various parts of interaction that constitute a relationship. For example, my interaction with girl #1 (Rita) typically is about education, books and whatever popular media is cooking up for our consumption. Woman #2 (Laura, sexism learned) is about sports & drinking and whatever her latest conquest is going to do for her. Woman, Chastity a.k.a. numbero tres, is a hottie that knows it, flaunts it, and wants a guy to pay for it - alimony I assume is in her tarot readings.

There are more, but you get the point. The pheromones attract me to bits and pieces of a ideal woman, the ones with scents of lilacs in their hair, or sweat-kissed lips that must send out a 50,000 watt signal to my turbocharger to rev up to 10,000 RPM. What I find is someone unavailable for future engagement.

I learned this tact from the Oakland A's. Substitute parts of a really killer team with Frankenstein parts of other orgs that don't fit into their team direction. This worked for them from 2001-2006. Now, however, they are trying to make a monster via trades and minors grooming....but anyways...you understand the philosophy, now to what I want for Christmas.

The soulmate would be funny, love sports, read and know what the hell is going on in Africa, Australia and Asia, like to travel, love sex, dreams and does what she dreams, and can stand me. (The last one is the deal killer, I know.)

She'd be attractive, not dolled up like some porcelain knock-off with hooker traits that you'd find in the West End. No, she'd be a girl (um, woman) I would think jeans, a white t-shirt without a boulder holder on, would suffice to pretty her up. And no, I ain't making this a sexual...thang.

We all like certain ideas - or as a classic rant from Bull Durham stated:

Well, I believe in the soul, the cock, the pussy, the small of a woman's back,
the hanging curve ball, high fiber, good scotch, that the novels of Susan Sontag are
self-indulgent, overrated crap. I believe Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone. I
believe there ought to be a constitutional amendment outlawing Astroturf and the
designated hitter. I believe in the sweet spot, soft-core pornography, opening
your presents Christmas morning rather than Christmas Eve and I believe in long,
slow, deep, soft, wet kisses that last three days.

Amen brother. (Sontag, right)

To wit, we all have our wishes and dreams that can rarely be satisfied, especially during a Holiday season. They all spin around like some bad, old 45 in our heads. (I'm thinking: Don't Dream It's Over by Crowded House.) And they continue to spin because I really don't know what I have to offer to make the spinning game a exciting and fruitful and multiplying love life.

Oh, well Love actually isn't very easy.

In fact, it damn hard.

Happy Holidays!

Song I can't find online:

Just Jack, 'Smoke'. ( I like the sax playing...)

Facebook link to Phil Garant Mix is all I've found and ilike.

The life of a basketball: Does not Need a ROCKSTAR or a ROCK Goddess to move me

I come (in peace) to tell you that being bored is a an unfortunate disease of the heart. I spend this moment to tell you that while many of you are busy bees making that honey (money) to dole out to whatever suits you at this particular moment, there is always someone else that is fighting the urge to go bonkers due to lack of whatever necessities to get going.

As my seasonal affect disorder kicks in, and energy drinks give me my only rush, with the crash too quick, and the burning desire to find a rock goddess to spend a wham-bam-thank-you-and-be-well adulterous night with withers away, since there is no rock goddesses near the home of this blogger, I suppose I need to find other outlets.

I do on many occasions. I picked up an old basketball that was in my once littered garage and spent an hour actually impressed that I can still put a ball in a hoop from 20 feet. (My game got much better after age 21...then has gone back south after age 35.) The ball itself is over 22+ years old. It belonged to a old friend that isn't on Facebook that I know. (Which is funny he was pretty social in high school.)

Still in good shape, despite the lack of usage, the basketball unlike my life does not seem bored or at a worse for wear. It keeps bouncing along - just add air - and does not need a quick pick me up or a unwieldy fantasy to get its blood going.

I guess what I feel is mid-life crisis. I'm not chasing kids around to go to practice for music, sports or other avenues. Nor am I positioned to become CEO of some venture where by I can be convicted of defrauding the company forthwith. No, my life is indeed a bore.

Work. Write. Read. Watch TV. Internet. No ha has. No Oprah moments (that I know of.) And certainly no Nobels for inspiring anyone to do anything.

I could change all that. Bouncing on to the next basketball metaphor and hope someone guides me to the hoop of opportunity to make a difference. I just hope it does not take twenty more years to find the goal in mind.

TFIG: Thank Friday It's God! (My favorite actress & Book review)

A bout of dyslexia cured, I am back to writing on something other than whether Dick Williams or Charlie O. Finley was the bigger A-hole in Oakland in the 1970's. It's really no contest, but, it is fun to speculate with the dynasty.

Fall brings out all the dreary feelings in me. Midwest (please help me escape!) is filled with dull days, unless you have money. None of that currently occupying my pockets. So its reading and watching free videos picked up at the library, where, it is not teeming with higher minds surprisingly, or en fuego soccer moms or bonita college co-eds.

I wish the lady above would pop out of a belated birthday cake for me. Instead J-Lo II, got her chassis classy for none-so-sassy Jamie Kennedy. Why should the Kennedy's have all the women? (Knowing he ain't related to that clan.)

There is nothing good afoot in the United States. No matter how we try, we are stuck in maliase of our own doing. But we do have the market cornered on blaming everyone not like us for our daily woes. If you have health care, blame those that don't. If you like your drugs, blame the big pharma for keeping you addicted to them. If you run a small company, blame the government for taxes. If you like Wall Street boom-bust cycles, blame them for everything you loss (and will gain back only to lose again.)

With that last tidbit, I just finished up a quick read: Wall Street: America's Dream Palace by Steve Fraser, a lecturer and historian. It takes you back to the origins of The Street, and all the muddy waters of stock-jobbing, building of aristocratic bona fides, the swindles and the swines operating the levers of economic success and destruction. Particularly, a few ogres of Capitalism stand out: Cornelius Vanderbilt and Jay Gould are given a revisit to the American heydays of damn-all-the-rules and fuck-the-common-man sensibility of those titans of money.

The book describes four archtypes: The Confidence Man, the Aristocrat, the Hero and The Immoralist. Each is mainly set in the latter half of 19th -early 20th century. (The Gilded Age of Mark Twain's penning with assistance.)

Today's Parallels:

• The Confidence Man today would be Bernard Madoff.
• The Aristocrat could be CEO of Google Eric E. Schmidt or Bill Gates. (Nouveau riche as the prerequisite.)
• The Immoralist: ex-CEO of Countrywide Angelo Mozilo.
• The Hero: Will be decided at a later date. (J.P. Morgan is oft given credit for rescue during the 1893 and 1907 Panics.)

Best line in the book related to the nature of the stock-jobbers activities at night. The obtainment of "the milk-white bosom of a virgin soon to be polluted by the touch." I would have added "ravenous"before touch.

TGIF! Let's Dance!

Mariah's Obsessed (They disabled it, those twits that don't tweet!)

Manic Monday: Writing, Reading, Running, Mobbing & Etc.

Wouldn't you know it, but it's harder than ever to focus on just one task. Sure, I'm not a dad/Mr. Mom, but I do my fair share. Cleaned out a garage/shed area, rode my bike 10 miles (busted the sprocket though, I knew it was going), read about 150 pages on great baseball managers, trying to keep up with all that social media stuff. (And reading Accidental Billionaires a.k.a. The Story of Facebook.)

And work. And write. (And go to the sports bar to check out the games, and hopefully, make miss bartender into Mrs. Powers. We all do it...the flirting.)

Meanwhile, America seems pretty complacent and complaining about the role of government. In 1946, when we were running the world cart blanche, no one complained about the size or scope of government. You expected roads, schools, law enforcement and protection from the wild bunch that is Wall Street.

Today, after 30 years of ignoring infrastructure, eroding educational systems, health care costs rising and the Wall Street fiasco, we must either turn to government (and fix it internally) or just let it fall apart. Because that is what is going on.

We all need to get busy on other things. Create something of value. Innovate. Invent. Optimize. Draw upon that American bullheaded nature - but to make not destroy.

I know more about NOT doing things right that most others ever will. Its not braggin', it is the plain simplistic truth. I have become more aware in the past few years of that gnawing in the belly feeling that I am not living up to whatever was suppose to be my calling. That every Manic Monday I ask, "What did I do this past week? What am I gonna do?"

These are questions I hope to answer sooner than later.

America needs to do that too.

Predictable Irrational: Good for Starters, Demand More

Never took a course in behavioral economics, but this book gives you a starter into that arena. After seeing the stock market and America's mortgage market, crash-n-burn, binge-n-purge, or spin out of control like a bipolar hurricane, you got to try to understand the hidden forces behind it all.

Predictably Irrational attempts to layout out premises along the line that we are neither very rational nor can we predict with much regularity what we will ultimately do. That our motivators often are irrational; that we can make distorted decisions based on erroneous concepts. (FREE for example is never really FREE.)

Ariely puts forth several experiments tested on MIT students and others that reflect we can be seen doing very strange things under certain heightened pressures. That we can take rational, normal persons and turn them into less-than-moral, far-from-societal pillars. (Remind you of the Wall Street?)

It's an interesting read; but it does not dwell or delve greatly into the current malaise. Instead, it picks out specific ideas of why we all are prone to irrational, and predictably so, decisions. That said, while I got something out of the book - it still left me less that satiated. It didn't meet my demands.

No Rest in Fantasy Baseball: Cash for Clunkers, Fines for Plunkers, and Punk'd Moves

Shortly after my last post, Kevin Youkilis decided that a bean ball war needed his escalation. I can understand the need to flex one’s muscles and show that you not gonna be anyone’s Pedro Martinez’s “punk bitch,” but Youk got five games as a pine warmer. (1/10 of Manny "not 100%Manny" Ramirez's suspension for the worst offense we currently rail against…steroids.)

The opposing pitcher Rick Porcello got 5 games, one start out of the rotation. So the punk is on Youk. (bottom of the picture.)

Recently, the cash for clunkers program has taken off. The idea of giving an incentive/rebate to get a hunk of junk and gas-addicted vehicle off the bridge to nowhere has boded well. Baseball teams often take a scrap heap worthy player and rebuild him to his old, not-so- clunkerish form. At least in theory.

And so, the Phillies recently gave cash to a clunker pitcher in Pedro “Punk” Martinez. (I call him one because he threw down a septuagenarian…ex-Bo Sox manager, Don Zimmer.)

But Pedro had a better day than Notre Dame WR/wannabe starter Jeff Samardzija who, along with Sean Marshall, got punked out of the ballpark by the Phillies power quartet: Howard, Utley, Rollins and Ibanez. And another punk in the stands let The Flying Hawaiian, Shane Victorino, have some alcoholic fruit punch to go along with his uniform without a Wailuku Lei.

No Luaus for Mr. Victorino are planned in Chicago. He’ll be happy to sue that bleacher dude, without the surfboard, and whomever feels spry enough to take over ownership of the Cubs this season. Bummer.

Meanwhile, Rich Harden gets cheated by the rain Gods (not in Hawaii) on Sunday, God’s day of rest. My pitching seems more contented to rest – no wins, dead last and a growing gap – than to pitch to victory.

God created the world in six days…then he rested because it was good. Well, in my case, there is no rest for the wicked, wacky, and winless warriors on my punk'd pitching staff. (Aside from Roy Halladay… he got royally punked over.)

All in a day’s work – this punk is over.

(JP currently is running first! in a Yahoo! fantasy baseball league. Just took over that spot today.)

New: Appropo Song by Cage The Elephant: Ain't No Rest For the Wicked



Classic Live Version: Tracy Chapman, Fast Car

Conan O'Brien: BLOW up my Car!!!

I submitted to Conan's contest to blow up a car on the Tonight Show. I believe I should win because:
1) My car indeed sucks, even if it were just a point A to point B ride
2) Using it to do papers, it sucks even MORE - I have to make sure I don't lock myself out while driving nearly 27,000 miles per year.
3) Winter time is coming and it REALLY BLOWS - therefore, blow it up.

Here's my 120 word submission:

I’ve delivered stale daily newspapers in MY TANK for 15 months. It has NO
power steering but provides good exercise cheaply. The front windows don't come
down, NO A/C , and the child locks refuse to be disabled. Driver's door unlocks
only from inside. Houdini would scratch his head.

The radio has only FM - but I love sports talk on AM. It uses a quart of
oil per week and gets 16 MPG at a cost of $400 per month. The TANK is
desperately seeking a suicide - give it what it wants. My livelihood depends on
a death trap: I can't afford to replace it, but it’s killing me
financially. BLOW IT UP, PLEASE!!!

I believe it is BLOW UP WORTHY. What do you think?

Library of Congress: Home to Our History, A National Treasure

I've never been to the Library of Congress. The idea appeals beyond the massive size and scope of the collections they have - (the research one can do!) - and the history one can lose one's self in during a visit, hopefully, prolonged.

In doing a baseball book, I know there are plenty of resources for books and images. The images that are older (sans copyright) are a special treat to find. To shape a story about the history of the sport, you have to include the quirky past to understand how it evolved into the sport where $1.5 Billion stadiums rise out of dirt to pay homage to men in tight uniforms. (And to think guys would play for free - nearly - back in the 1850-1860's.)

The Library of Congress though holds much more than the baseball game.

It holds our nation's treasured past, its foilables, its great expansion, and its bloodiest moments. The dreams of ordinary citizens, the lines of poets and playwrights and the hallowed words of Presidents long since gone. It is the written essence of our country - that which Thomas Jefferson sold his vast personal collection of books to keep alive after the War of 1812. (The Brits burned down the original Library of Congress.)

Jefferson's collection doubled the Library's existing volumes to that date. He offered: "I do not know that it contains any branch of science which Congress would wish to exclude from this collection . . . there is in fact no subject to which a member of Congress may not have occasion to refer."

Jefferson, who would pass away in serious indebtness ($200,000+ in then 1826 dollars), was a knowledge hound. Much more than most of our politicians and scholars are even in today's information age. He read, in Latin, the classics. Adored Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 B.C.) a Roman philosopher, orator, and statesman. Indeed, he saw a usage for all books - and organized them by subject matter - thus paving the way for various classification systems utilized by the Library of Congress, and also, under the Dewey Decimal System.

Researchers owe their debts to Jefferson for adding his collection to the Library, his understanding of how knowledge is organized, and later, the ability to find millions of volumes in this Library today. While I have never been to Library of Congress , the libraries in America are stocked with the impetuses of Jefferson (and Franklin). They themselves are National Treasures - but their ideas gave us the most tangible assets we need to hold steadfast in our most trying times.

(This Post was written from the Lowell Public Library, Lowell, Indiana.)

Summertime Blues: Business Direction for Fall Season

Though I haven't published in a month, I still have been blogging in my mind. Stories are always out there. To craft a piece has been on the tip of the tongue, just waiting. But I have been preoccupied.

With an upcoming pay cut from my job, after my other relatives received there's, I am in "let's see if the stimulus plan is getting jobs out there for me" mode. So far, not much. The likelihood of big guys adding jobs soon is fairly small. So, I turn to my own venture.

I would like a media-related publishing group. Something creative and cutting edge. The problem, as always, is resources. Standard Capital investment comes from business plans that work and posit a quick path to success. (Or at least the personal assets and fortitude to get such ventures off the ground.)

Bringing together a team of eager, risk-tolerant persons is hard too. Everyone is going their own way. While social media has its benefits, are people willing to hear out, or creatively add to the pot I am trying to stir?

Once again, the personal resources are limited by my own past misdeeds. I know that, to some, that is the only thing that matters. (That and my personality flaws - which are many.) If I could take back some decisions, I would.

So - I go it alone on most things - and that can only work for so long and so far. At some point, a bridge to somewhere more inviting must be built and crossed.

As the summer reaches a midpoint, I hope the collection of assets I am putting together and the ideas I am fostering can be heard. Blogging, while fun, takes too much time in a library. (So I can't do it at my leisure.)

At best, I may only post 1 per week from hear on - which is terribly unimportant - but I think it helps me out too.

Double Platinum, 2-Disc Tribute: MJ's Top 10 & The Big 80s

With his departure, Michael Jackson leaves behind an enormously vast legacy to be remembered and dissected in countless future interviews on Music history and his life. He falls into the esteemed category alongside Elvis, Dylan, Hendrix, Cash, Lennon and McCartney, as people you can never leave out when talking about Rock & Roll's growth and dissemination to us, the masses.

MJ brought the seismic change in video design and creativity. All of his videos were the gold standard of the 1980's - where many, many others tried to dethrone the King of Pop on a weekly basis on MTV. His was a personality fit for the Big 80s: big hair, fashion (glove, parachute pants), big money (Wall Street obscene) and eccentricity to an art form (the monkey comes to mind.)

So what are MJ greatest hits, with video expertise included, or as an additional weight on the greatness of the track? (An opinion, not a musical verity.)

1. Billy Jean
2. Thriller
3. Beat It (Youtube)
4. Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough (Youtube)
5. Bad
6. Dirty Diana
7. PYT
8. Smooth Criminal (Youtube)
9. Wanna To Be Startin' Something
10. Rock With You

Here's His entire catalog


The best of the rest in the 80's musical game that put out the best music and/or videos are:


Madonna - Vogue (technically, 1990, but we know it was made in 1989.)
Peter Gabriel - Sledgehammer from SO (guy was so freaky, Genesis cut him loose after he dressed up as a grape and couldn't get a mike next to his mouth.)
Genesis - Land of Confusion (Reagan at his best.)
Pink Floyd - The Wall - the groundbreakers for the weird. Amongst the All-time in sales next to Thriller.
Metallica - One - a hellish existence on video. Really the best heavy metal band.
Bon Jovi - Dead or Alive - a karokee favorite.
The Police - Wrapped Around Your Finger. You were expecting Every Breath You Take?
Prince - Little Red Corvette. With Madonna, amongst the next legends to be mourned.
Duran Duran - Hungry Like The Wolf. They could put out vids.
Aerosmith (featuring Run DMC) - Walk This Way. (Collaboration classic.)

SO, that's the double platinum album. That MJ passed does not mean we should not treasure all the good he produced. There will be plenty of bad revisited by those prone to dwell on the worst.

FROM SO -Peter Gabriel's Sledgehammer

WANT TO TOUCH THE HINEY!!!

Reprise of an old blog: The Ugly, The Bad and The Good (July 25, 2005)

The Ugly
With the recent Kenny Rogers’ Incident involving tossing cameras and abuse of the news media, I thought back to one of the worst incidents in baseball history, involving two HOF pitchers, a lifetime .250 hitting catcher and two bitter rivals in the Dodgers and Giants. (Left)


From the HOF archives
Juan Antonio Marichal Sánchez (born October 20, 1937 in Laguna Verde, Dominican Republic), better known as Juan Marichal, was a Major League Baseball starting pitcher known for his high leg kick and dominating stuff, and his intimidation tactics, which included aiming pitches directly at the opposing batters' helmets.

The high-kicking Juan Marichal, AKA the 'Dominican Dandy' or 'Manito', already had pinpoint control of his curve, slider, screwball, and blinding fastball, all thrown with a variety of motions. Some commented he had 16 different pitches, throwing his 4 pitches from either an overhand, 3/4, sidearm or submarine deliveries. His lifetime stats:

Led League in wins 1963 and 1968
Led League in ERA 1969
All-Star in 1962-69, 71
Elected to Hall Of Fame in 1983

IP: 3507.1
W-L; 243-142
ERA: 2.89

But with all that success came the unfortunate incident most remembered in his elite career. It happened on August 22, 1965.

That day, Marichal faced Sandy Koufax at Candlestick Park in the heat of a tight pennant race. The Giants and Dodgers had come close to a brawl two days earlier over catcher's interference calls. Los Angeles's Maury Wills had allegedly tipped Tom Haller's mitt with his bat on purpose, and Marichal's best friend, Matty Alou, retaliated by tipping John Roseboro's face mask.

Roseboro nearly beaned Alou with his return throw to the mound. In the August 22 game, Marichal had flattened Maury Wills and Ron Fairly with pitches when Roseboro purportedly asked Koufax to hit Marichal. When Koufax refused, Roseboro's return throw came close to Marichal's head. Name-calling ensued, until Roseboro suddenly ripped off his mask and stood up. Marichal rapped the catcher on the head with his bat. What followed was one of the most violent brawls in major league history.

Willie Mays led away Roseboro, who had suffered a concussion, while Dodger Bob Miller tackled Marichal, Alou slugged Miller, and Tito Fuentes menaced the Dodgers with his bat. Roseboro sued Marichal, but eventually dropped the $110,000 suit.

NL president Warren Giles suspended Marichal for eight games and fined him $1,750. He also forbid Marichal from traveling to Los Angeles for the final Giants-Dodgers series of the season.
Marichal, not to be outdone, had another memorable game:

On July 2, 1963 , he went the distance beating the winningest HOF lefthander in Warren Spahn and the Braves 1-0 in 16 innings. Warren pitched only 15 1/3 innings in the loss!

The Bad
John Roseboro was a 'good' left-hand hitting catcher in an era that had the likes of Yogi Berra, Johnny Bench, Joe Torre, Tim McCarver, Bill Freehan and Elston Howard around catching.

According to Bill James, he is considered the 27th best catcher in MLB history. Though his .249 BA is not considered HOF worthy, two points should be made:

1) The 1960's was the worst offensive era for ALL hitters due to the mound height and strike zone expansion in 1963
2) Dodger Stadium was not a friendly hitter's ballpark like the ones today in Denver, Arlington and Houston, among others. Dodger stadium has always been a negative park for hitting homeruns, especially at night.

So, to properly rate Roseboro, we could do it in a better time (the 1990's or present day), and his offensive numbers would be much, much better. Also, his 'real' numbers assisted quite a bit given the scarcity of runs in the 1960's.

His defensive skills and game calling probably rate him a top 10-15 catcher all-time. (Caught Drysdale, Koufax, Sutton, Osteen, and Podres which ranks up there among the best pitching staffs all-time.)

All and all, he could have been a HOF catcher with a little more pop at the plate and not playing in the most restrictive era for hitters.

The Good
Sandy (Sanford) Koufax. The name is synonymous with great pitching. His lifetime stats:
Led League in wins 1963, 65-66
Led League in era 1962-66
Led League in strikeouts 1961, 63, 65-66
All-Star in 1961-66
Most Valuable Player Award in 1963
Hall Of Fame in 1972
IP: 2324
W-L: 165-87
ERA: 2.76
In World Series play
IP: 57
W-L: 4-3
ERA: 0.95
Books and articles about Sandy Koufax

His first few seasons in the ‘Bigs’ were not successful, but showed enough promise, given his wildness (sometimes overstated, sometimes understated) and the fact he didn’t get much support from manager, Walter Alston, in pitching out of jams.

But for 6 years, 1961-1966, he pitched better than ANYONE ever dreamed imaginable. Yogi Berra said in 1963, "I can see how he won 25 games. What I don't understand is how he lost five."

His legacy was cut short by a circulatory ailment that caused swelling in his arm unlike anything you would hear of in modern sports. With the right medical (and managerial) advice given, he could have pitched many years more. And what would have been? As it turned out, he made the HOF in 1972, six years after retiring.

Not bad, Lefty. Not bad at all.
Sandy Pitching in splendor - watch those curves!

R.I.P.: Michael Jackson, Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon & The golden TV era

I wish I had the appropriate words to express what is necessarily a difficult time for those who love and adored Farrah Fawcett , Ed McMahon and Michael Jackson. Their life was apart of Americana; they were a memorable part of the art form that was the ubiquitous TV land.

As members of the Greatest Generation and the Boomers fade out into just the lasting individual memories, outlandish laughs and smiles, and quirky classic videos and sounds, it brings to mind how quick it all goes away.

The fame and fortunes - Ed McMahon was in foreclosure and Michael Jackson was nearly broke- the looks and usual health - Fawcett inspiring battle against cancer decimated her - can be taken so fast. So fast.

Most remember Christopher Reeve's struggles and strength after his paralysis. And it is a reminder how uncertain it all is: life.

We can wake up, plan stuff, get the family involved (or no) and take the day by the horns. Then, it finally happens - a tragedy - and we don't wake up anymore. Others, such as Fawcett knew the odds were stacked against her - and yet she fought well - and acquired the greatest gift: The value of the time and friends and love, while here.

The hardest lesson will ever learn is the end of life - as we finally learn the secrets to it all - we have to take that lesson to beyond and to those we all ready missed.

Those of us left behind have the ubiquitous TV, a mountain climb, a clear sandy beach, a perfect corn field, a hustling and bustling downtown, a mountain lake, or a song, to remind us of you, the departed.

So here's a song for them all:
The Righteous Brothers - Unchained Melody

Good Bye Friends.

Michael Jackson's Bad (my favorite)

Affairs, Politics & Music: Gov. Mark Sanford & Rest Assured

Another Republican gets caught with his hand in the Affair cookie jar. South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford, an outspoken critic of the automotive bailout and potential 2012 Presidential candidate, had an affair of the heart - visiting Argentina to bid adieu to his "Don't cry for me Argentina" girlfriend. Yet, Sanford did:

"I've been unfaithful to my wife," he said in a bombshell news conference in
which the 49-year-old governor ruminated aloud with remarkable frankness on
God's law, moral absolutes and following one's heart. He said he spent the last
five days "crying in Argentina."

Such is the state of affairs in the Republican party.

Mark Foley (R-FL) was just a creepy idiot who must not have much understanding of technology and did not get out much. Newt Gingrich's (R-GA) had "long-term" affair with congressional aide Callista Bisek, who he married. (While this went on - Hypocrite Newt was castigating and impeaching ex-President Bill Clinton for the same thing...)

Much more recently, less than a fortnight ago, Senator John Ensign (R-NV) decided to keep it in-house, er, the affair. This governor at least got a nice vacation to Argentina, where, if he had much imagination, he would have blamed it all on Rio. (Leaving aside Rio's location in Brazil. But a liberal posited that Sanford was down there to talk to Hugo Chavez. So, who's loonier? (Don't answer.))

Which is why my Constitution Convention Idea must be a front burner topic. (Well, how bout back burner?) Americans, are you not tired of putting up with these morally vapid men & women? (No scandals yet from the fairer sex.)

I can say yes.

So here's my song that Mark Sanford was singing (crying) as he said:"The odyssey that we're all on in life is with regard to heart."

Rest Assured Treat Infamy - (Bittersweet Symphony inspired.)



Life does have its twists and turns.

A Second Constitutional Convention: Constitutional Reformation in the 21st Century

I hope that my desire to fix America does not mean that what I write and why I write it is called into question. We have a serious problem and serious solutions are needed. (Not the inane discussions on Letterman.)

I have proposed this in a document on DocStoc: Constitutional Reformation in the 21st Century.

It is my firm belief that we have to sit down for a prolonged period of time and figure out America. It can not be of a half-hearted, hen-pecked, small-victory design. It has to be a grand ideal, much like the dream and reality that is America.

So I hope you read the links and download the document. We need debate and the time has to be now.

Surpreme Comic Controversy: Palin v. Letterman v. A-Rod v. Roberts, 666 U.S. (2009)

It would nice if pols really understood comedy -or, er, the nature of the craft.

Letterman took to throwing around barbs at Sarah Palin's family, who will not got back to Alaska - and fight those pesky Ruskies. Now, picking on a 18-yr old unwed mother is a bit much. But who brought it on themselves?: Palin.

When you seek a grand stage, be prepare for the slips and jibes at yourself, family and anything you deem a cause, because that is what is going to happen. (Ask former Ms. California Carrie Prejean (above) about such attention via her less than stellar answer - granted, her free speech - but the consequences of such speech.)

For Dave's part (who I have not watched in God knows when), he backhanded an apology. He was not condoning the sexual deviance toward Palin's younger daughter. (He just didn't remember - or his writers got lazy - with her name. (The legal one.) But this is just fluffy way to retort on Palin's part.)

The biting lines from Yahoo! TV:

His Top Ten list featured "Highlights of Sarah Palin's Trip," and included: "Bought makeup at Bloomingdale's to update her 'slutty flight attendant' look."
But the diciest joke centered on the family attending a Yankees baseball game.
Letterman said "an awkward moment" occurred for Palin when, "during the seventh inning, her daughter was knocked up by (Yankee third baseman) Alex Rodriguez."

I actually feel more sorry for A-Rod, since the miserably-selling tell-all book of Selena Roberts was just a ultra-feminist taking any jabs at the man she could from the get go. (And his two-faced persona. Like we don't know successful & spoiled people have such flaws. Really - that is all the book was.)

This off-the-beaten-path detour comes because that author, Ms. Roberts, has shown a pattern of behavior in advocating on behalf of victim - the Duke Lacrosse case - without actually having the facts in evidence. As it turned out, the case was not supportable, and the men accused, were innocent. (They were Reade Seligmann, Collin Finnerty, and David Evans.)

Quick judgments are a pandemic of our society - feed forcefully by gerrymandering journalists they are more worried about being scooped, and sent to the dustbin of journalism, where hatching, at best, second-rate tripe about third-rate fame and frivolity. So they slant - taking hard stances, even when dead wrong, or just lack the sensitivity to actually do the story right.

(A-Rod can be called a 'me' ballplayer. However, compared to many, many others, he is just vanilla - and was not worth the time Ms. Roberts spent in staking the claim to such a story. So, he did steroids? And then what? Did he beat up on others? How bad did he really treat his wife? Did his $252 million contract come without the owners being able to do their own background research, like you did, Ms. Roberts?)

Going back to Letterman, Palin jumped up like a mama bear to defend her cub. Too bad she did not teach her cub how to comport herself as the potential second family of the United States.

Palin on Today, Friday

The fact Letterman made a off-color joke is not a surprise. Reacting to it (as Palin did and has), with a lack of understanding who the really parties involved were: A-Rod and Bristol, is undoubtedly the bigger goof. Where she indeed VP, where were her sensitivities compel her to respond? And how much trouble could she have caused as a heartbeat away?

Like Selena Roberts found out, writing a tell-all about the richest baseball player does not guarantee success. In fact, it might be that quality of the analysis of baseball itself lacked. (It did.) True fans know that the game is not clean; or hasn't had its flaws and flawed players.

But both women can learn that you need your facts straight and presented in an entertaining manner, in order to succeed. And let stupid talk - slide, especially when posited by a two-bit talk show host that talks about your daughter, the older one, carelessly. (When that one is politically active and made a life-altering decision, and is being obviously watched for future goofs.)

The conservatives are just itching for a fight...about something, anything other than their policies.