The Fires in SoCal

If you're curious, I'm updating my most recent entry on the other site regarding location of the nearest fire and where to get information.

Behold the Mighty Red Sox!

For the 3rd time in 5 years, the Red Sox entered the ALCS.

For the 2nd time 3 attempts, they are CHAMPIONS OF THE AMERICAN LEAGUE!!!!

And, they are IN THE WORLD SERIES, BABY!!!!

Oh, it is SO SWEET!

My brother and Cherie's sister live in Boston, we're 2 hours away by car, and you best believe we'll be in Boston for another victory party if and when it happens!!

FOR THE LOVE OF GOD...

...will Fox please, please, please retire Tim McCarver?!?!?!?!

That's 6, no 10, no 9 men in a row retired by Beckett...

Grady's 2-4...I mean 1-4...

That's a double...no, a triple...by Youkilis.

This man is incapable of getting the basics right when broadcasting. He's a god-damn embarrassment.

And could Joe Buck be a bigger p***y?

Jeez, I hate Fox's baseball broadcasters.

Better late than never

Ok, so it's a few days late. Here's my contribution to BAD:

Carbon dioxide is not pollution.

Voop, voop, bitches...

Back from out of town just in time to see my Red Sox despoil the Indians, 10-3. Papi and Manny took the Voop in hand and smacked the war paint right off 'dem Indians. 1 down, 3 to go.

Respectfully submitted,

M.F.V.

Goddamn...

...I love me some Manny Ramirez.

...and some Double Bock beer.

Oh, I think I understand...

...that you should BEWARE THE MANNY!!!!!!

2-0, bitches.

Oh, what's that, the Cubs are DOWN 2-0? Again, I think that puts them in the category of teams that suck like a Hoover.

GO RED SOX!!!!!!

Beer is good.

Clearly chaps misunderstands...

Speaking of which, I was thinking of elements of my life that have and have not changed since the last time the Cubs made the playoffs.

For one thing, I use the word "tallboy" a lot less.

For another, I don't have squirrels living in the roof.

On the other hand some things haven't changed; I still have pothead old lady neighbors; and it's still fun to play the giant-spotlight game with teenagers as they drive by late at night.

p.s. speaking of back in the day, anyone know a Jennifer (Jenn) Owens, who is apparently AU SOC/SPA '97 or so? She was among the interviewers I faced today for a community leadership gig here in the Syr... and is the only other person I've met who was both a CLEG and PJ major undergrad.

Admirable cultural parallels

There are two kinds of people in this world: people who suck, and the Chicago Cubs.

The Chicago Cubs spends their Saturdays climbing mountains and meditating in peaceful solitude. Sundays are for oral sex, KFC and
Old Styles.

Chicago Cubs always have sex on the first date. Always.

There is no theory of evolution, just a list of creatures the Chicago Cubs allow to live.

When the Chicago Cubs go to donate blood, they decline the syringe, and instead request a handgun and a bucket.

The Chicago Cubs once walked down the street with massive erections. There were no survivors.

The Chicago Cubs have two speeds: walk and kill.

The Chicago Cubs are the only men to ever defeat a brick wall in a game of tennis.

As Chicago Cubs are born, the nurse says, "Holy crap! That's a Chicago Cub!" Then she has sex with him. At that point, she will be the third girl he has slept with.

Chicago Cubs can set ants on fire with a magnifying glass. At night.

It takes the Chicago Cubs 20 minutes to watch 60 Minutes.

The Chicago Cubs are not lactose intolerant, they just refuse to put up with lactose's shit.

The Chicago Cubs can divide by zero.

When the Chicago Cubs do pushups, they aren't lifting themselves up, they're pushing the Earth down.

The Chicago Cubs can piss into gale force winds.

The Chicago Cubs do not teabag the ladies. They potato-sack them.

The Chicago Cubs once bet NASA they could survive re-entry without spacesuits. On September 29, 1998, the Chicago Cubs re-entered the earth's atmosphere, streaking over 14 states and reaching a temperature of 3000 degrees. An embarrassed NASA publicly claimed it was a meteor, and still owes the Chicago Cubs a beer.

The Chicago Cubs doesn't shave; they kick themselves in the face. The only thing that can cut the Chicago Cubs is the Chicago Cubs.

The Chicago Cubs do not hunt because the word hunting infers the probability of failure. The Chicago Cubs go killing.

Bullets dodge the Chicago Cubs.

The Chicago Cubs' bobblehead dolls have slept with more women then most men.

The Chicago Cubs recently had the idea to sell their urine as a canned beverage. We know this beverage as Red Bull.

Schadenfreude

At the end of the game yesterday, thousands of Chargers fans were heard chanting, "MAR-TY! MAR-TY! MAR-TY!"

One year ago today...

...at about this moment, the sounds of Audrey's slowing heartbeat filled me with dread. The fetal heart rate monitor's speaker transmitted the sound of Audrey being strangled with every contraction by the umbilical cord that had wound itself around her neck.

Dr. Laura Da Vita, Cherie's OB, watched a moment longer, pursed her lips, and said, "Let's go to section."

Minutes later, wearing an ill-fitting pair of scrubs, with my Red Sox cap still on, I sat on a stool next to Cherie in the OR, stroking her head and praying to hear a scream, just one scream. When the doctors lifted Audrey into the air, she screamed her lungs out and kicked her way into this world with tiny, red legs. Those sights and sounds filled me with relief and joy of the most extreme kind.

One year later, I am still filled with that joy. Audrey inspires it every day. To the few of you on this blog who haven't yet experienced fatherhood, I wish it for you. It is a gift and challenge that beggars description. Happy Birthday, pumpkin. Mama and I love you more than you will ever know.

Cubs Clinch! Cubs Clinch!

Now the real stress begins.

Red Sox and Cubs Clinch!

Thanks to a thumping of the Twins, Mariano Rivera's latest collapse, and a genius bunt by Melvin Mora, the Red Sox have just clinched the AL East crown. Even as I write this, the Cubbies, by virtue of a victory earlier today, stand in position to win the NL Central crown with a Brewers loss (currently trailing the Padres 6-3 in the 9th)...and there it is! Trevor Hoffman has K'd the last Brewers batter, and the Cubs are kings of the NL Central. Hot damn, here we go again!!

Lessons From Golfing in Florida...

Yesterday, I played a round of golf at "The King and Bear", a course co-designed by Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus. During the round, I learned the following:

1. Even if the forecast is "mostly sunny", bring an umbrella and change of clothes. it will still rain during your round. Twice. Heavily.

2. If water is in play on 14 of 18 holes, and the rough consists of thick, tropical brush that contains both rattlesnakes and water moccasins, bring at least 18 balls. Oh, and poking at one such snake with a golf club is, shall we say, inadvisable.

3. If you play like I play, you're probably not good enough to really enjoy a course designed by the likes of Arnold Palmer and Jack Nicklaus. Or to justify $139 greens fees or a total cost for the day of $210. Damn, that's pricey.

4. Sonicburger, fries, and a large Coke -- perfect post-game meal. Mmmm, Sonic.

Paternal pride

So, the kid's got one of these:

http://www.vtechkids.com/product_page.cfm?productId=489&tvFrom=

And it's got a little singalong microphone that he likes to yell into.

This morning I was playing with him and did a little white boy beatboxing.

Son of a bitch if he didn't pick up the mike and throw down a couple beats himself.

He might not outsell Kanye but Fitty better follow through on his retirement plans.

Five more days...

...and then I will be lounging here.

Later in the week, I will be playing golf here.

Best of all, I will NOT be here.

New project starts after vacation. I cannot wait!

Why do the Cubs...

...seem so intent on giving away the NL Central? And why does the NL Central suck so badly that the teams tied for 1st place barely have .500 records (Cubs and Brewers tied at .511)?

Enlighten those who focus on eastern baseball, Red Sox style...........

And, those of you who know me well will know...

... that, until very recently, almost inconceivable to think that I'd ever find myself in the business of censoring penises.

In fact, I always thought of myself as one of the more avant-garde thinkers in the field.

But then:

Soundtrack of me

take a moment to cut-paste-and-visit

www.pandora.com

Welcome to the only place I have ever heard Guttermouth's version of "April 29, 1992" broadcast by means other than out my car windows.

Listen to it, bitches.

Soundtrack of our generation......

Josh, this doesn't apply to you (yet), but for the rest of you...am I the only one who's noticed the following:

lately, when I'm in a store -- grocery, department, whatever...I notice that as I walk around, I recognize nearly every song playing on the in-store PA -- there's a lot of Counting Crows, Pearl Jam, Smashing Pumpkins, etc. I especially notice it at a grocery store known as "Big Y". There are several of them in Connecticut, and one just opened nearby. Every time I walk in, there's an early-to-mid 90s rock/pop song playing on the in-store sound system -- which tells me two things:

1. Those stores are all using the same demographic research and marketing firms, which are handing them a list of songs that should be played to appeal to 30-somethings who are shopping for themselves -- and their children. .

2. I'm getting old, because I fit the demographic..........

Ok, I'm tired of seeing that post...

So Chris, moved in yet?

And I will be staying here during the last week of September. Pays to have a partner who gets to attend conferences in fun places :-)

And then I thought, "I just killed my daughter...."

Early yesterday afternoon, just about the time Tiger Woods was arriving at Southern Hills to limber up before surviving the ridiculous heat to pocket his 13th major professional golf tournament victory, my 10 month-old daughter announced with a sharp cry that she was awake and in need of attention.

Like I've done many (100? 500?) times before, I ran upstairs, scooped her from the crib, deposited her on the floor, and followed her down the hallway as she speed-crawled from the nursery to our master bedroom to find her momma.

As usual, she showed no interest in the stairs opposite our bedroom. Stopping just short of our doorway, her eyes alighted on a copy of the Economist laying on the floor. I'd brought it upstairs the night before to read before drifting off to sleep. I had then and have now no recollection of how the magazine had migrated from my nightstand to the floor in the hallway. She picked it up and opened it. As she pulled the open magazine toward her, the wide spread of her arms and their backward movement unbalanced her, and she toppled over backward.

It was the one thing I wasn't expecting.

It was the one time I was not between her and the stairs.

It was the one time I'd left the gate open after coming up the stairs to grab her.

And she fell -- right down the stairs.

As she tumbled through a couple of backward somersaults, off the edge of the carpeted landing at the top of the stairs, into open space above the 14 bare, wooden stairs and tile floor below her, I thought, "Oh. No!" And then I thought, "I just killed my daughter."

Audrey's tiny body bounced down from step to step. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I instinctively dove headfirst down the stairs after her. I remember crying out, "Noooooo!" I remember thinking that if I reached her, I would find a crumpled, defenseless, lifeless body, and that for all my striving to be a good father, after 10+ months of hard work every day, her life would be snuffed out by one moment of inattention. I remember thinking that seemed terribly unfair. I remember thinking, "I'm so sorry, Audrey, I'm so, so sorry."

Time seemed to stretch out in front of me, as did the distance between my clutching fingers and Audrey's frail body. At last I was at the bottom of the stairs, and I had managed to catch Audrey between the last wooden stair and the hard, unforgiving ceramic tile floor below it.

She was in my arms, and she was screaming in pain. I wish I could write that I was strong then, but I was not. I was shaking, and I was a damn mess. As I sat there cradling her in my arms, I thought over and over about the fractures she must have suffered -- arms, legs, head. I thought about her neck and head -- were they badly injured? They MUST be badly injured! Is she dying? She MUST be dying!

Cherie, who'd been cleaning in the bedroom, only to hear her daughter fall and her partner cry out in anguished disbelief, raced downstairs and took command of the situation. She got me up and hunting for our car keys, got Audrey bundled into the car, got me thinking. "Hospital's only 5 miles away. I can be there faster than an ambulance can get here and back." I jumped into the driver's seat, punched the gas on the Passat, and ran every stoplight I could between our house and the hospital. Cherie yelled at me several times to slow down, but I heard her only as distant chatter. She would forgive me for speeding as long as we reached the hospital quickly and safely. Cherie called ahead to let them know we were coming. I gunned the engine again.

Less than 5 minutes after leaving the hospital, we arrived at the entrance to the Emergency Department. Nurse after nurse, PA after PA, doctor after doctor checked her -- temperature, pulse, heartbeat, blood pressure, blood oxygen, lung sounds, reflexes, awareness, wakefulness, reaction to visual and audio stimuli, test after test after test, all with the same result:

Audrey was perfectly, unbelievably, inexplicably fine.

Aside from one bump in the middle of her forehead, she had survived plunging down 14 bare, wooden stairs unscathed. Not one more scratch. Not one more bruise. Not one more unseen injury. By the time the testing and observation periods were over, she was crying -- not because she was still in pain -- a little liquid Tylenol from a nurse had cured that -- but because the hospital trip had caused her to miss lunch. She was starving, and she wanted a bottle, damnit!

While Cherie fed her, I tallied up my injuries: two severely bruised knees, a chipped bone on the inside of my left elbow, and bruised ribs, all from flinging myself unthinkingly down a flight of stairs. Oh, and one wounded heart. I had let down my little girl, and it was only by the grace of God that she had survived.

Near as I can tell, Audrey's survival and near freedom from injury were owed to one factor. As she toppled off the landing, her body turned sideways. Instead of tumbling head over heels, smacking her head and neck with every revolution, she rolled down the stairs sideways like a giddy 10 year-old rolling down a steep, grassy hill. More often than not, she rolled in mid-air, and when she hit a stair, she hit it with her hands and feet instead of her face or head. I thank God for that wonderful bit of fortune. If not for that sideways roll, this story might have a very different conclusion.

As it is, it will be years before I can erase these images from my mind, and before I can forgive myself for what could have been a fatal accident.

Snyder, Paul, Matt -- hug your kids for me.

Speaking of Bitches, Bitches...

...there is an interesting article in the New York Times today about the City Council's attempts to ban bitch and ho from the lexicon of NYC residents, and the resistance they're encountering, particularly because of the popularity of the word, "bitch". Turns out that in some instances (as used by Mr. Close), it is a term of "camaraderie". So to the Council I say, "Close, but no cigar, bitches."

First Place, Bitches

Watched Cubs from rooftop on Sheffield for first time ever:

Watched Cubs move into first place, first time since 2003:

The Simpsons Movie

See it.

I was pleasantly surprised. Quite a few laugh out loud moments.

Yikes - Bought a House

So we finally took the plunge and bought a house. In about a month and a half, we'll be living in Mt. Prospect, IL here:

Found amid the mountains of crap on my desk...

I like to shovel through the mounds of crap on my messy, messy desk once every few weeks and throw away as much of it as I can.

Today I found one I'll keep.

A scrap of corporate-retreat-center letterhead, with the following note in my handwriting, small and alone in the middle of the page:


"Prelude to a clusterfuck."

Defeat stings, but corrupt defeat really stings...

So, for several months, my practice has been competing to provide a "courts case management" solution for a large US state. Basically, a courts case management system takes the manual processes involved in sharing information between trial and appellate courts -- often involving the manual assembly and shipping of large packets of paper -- and converts it into an automated process whereby documents are created and moved electronically. The overall value of this particular project for a vendor is approximately $50M. Winning this project would have provided the foundation for a lot of plans we have for growing our practice within the company -- and not coincidentally -- would also have laid the foundation for all of us earning large salary increases and bonuses.

Having been asked by this particular state to participate in the bidding process, we spent hundreds of thousands of Business Development $$ to put together a great solution. Part of the competitive process involved spending time with state employees, demonstrating our solution and being evaluated by said employees. At one point, the competition was reduced from 5 bidders to 2 -- with my employer being 1 of the last 2 standing.

Last Thursday, we heard through the grapevine that we had beat the other competitor on the official scorecard for the proposals, produced by the eval committee. Also, the person allegedly responsible for making the final contract award decision said things to us like, "So, when you bring your team here, are you going stay in a hotel, or rent a house?" and "Please start working up the contractual language for the final contract so we can get this started."

Friday evening, we received two documents: a letter, telling us we'd lost to our last remaining competitor; and, a copy of the scorecard.

Guess what? We won on the scorecard, but the result was overridden by someone in state government to hand the award to our competitor. Why? Because the competitor had included a piece of software in its bid that this someone preferred. He intervened (some might say illegally, or at best unethically) to change the final award decision and steal from us a contract award we'd won through hard work and the development of a great solution.

So, instead of having $50M in our pocket, great corporate momentum, bigger salaries, sizable bonuses, and people saying "yes" to the things we want to invest in to create a better practice, we're now shaking our heads and struggling to survive.

Oh, and worse -- the company chosen over us has no experience providing a solution of such size and complexity, which came through during the competition, and is partly why we won. So this un-named state will likely suffer from an underperforming vendor that doesn't meet the contractual requirements, the solution won't work, and the state will flush $50M of taxpayer $$ down the toilet over the next few years. Way to go. Can't wait to read about it in the newspaper in 2 years. Then I'll tell you all which state I'm talking about.

It sucks. Thanks, corrupt state employee. Congratulations on hurting your own state and a corporation looking to help you!

Lunch with the Lewises, my triumphant return to golf, etc.

This week, I sojourned to both Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, and Tysons Corner, VA. My practice had a meeting to plot strategy in the wake of a stinging business defeat (more on that momentarily), and then we all journeyed to a "collaboration offsite" to bring some disparate (but overlapping) groups together to find ways to work together more effectively. Highlights:

1. Lunch with the Lewis Clan: Matt, Amanda, Nate, Maddie, and I shared a quick lunch at Silver Diner in Tysons. It was great to spend time with the whole family. Made me miss living in DC. Maddie is absolutely beautiful, and I can hardly believe it's been almost six years since she was crawling around the floor as a baby at Crystal Square. It just goes to show how quickly children grow up, and it reinforced for me how important it is to enjoy Audrey now -- because she'll be 7, and then 18, before we know it! Nate is a trip -- he has red hair right now, and he displayed a propensity for chewing the table while we ate! He's only 3 months younger than Audrey, and before long will be chasing his sister around. Matt and Amanda -- as I'm sure they will tell you -- are doing great, but are balancing moving into their new home in Herndon with continuing to prep the old Belvoir condo for sale. Having just renovated our own 1st floor 1/2 bath, I don't envy you guys. Good luck!

2. My triumphant return to golf! : ok, so triumphant may be stretching it. Still, I was very pleased with my overall performance. Now, I should begin by saying that I literally cannot remember the last time I played a full round of golf. It may be as long ago as the 1997 Otis Open in northern Virginia. I've had a few tournament opportunities fall through, and I've spent some time at the range in the last 2 years, but on Tuesday, I played a round with my boss at a golf club just outside Harrisburg, PA.

The club (name redacted to protect me) sits at the foot of the Allegheny Mountains. The front nine are characterized by fairly straight, flat, and wide open fairways, with several long Par 5s and some tricky water placement. The back nine are much hillier and twistier, as they take advantage of the natural topography.

On a hot, hazy day (96 degrees), I shot identical 51s on the front and back. Not bad for not playing a competitive round of golf in maybe a decade. I was particularly pleased that I was mostly able to straighten out my driver, and that I hit my long irons and hybrids very well. Short irons (8-9-pw-sw) and putter were my chief weaknesses. I did a fair amount of chipping back and forth over the green from just off the green, and it killed my game.

One good shot stands out: on the 468-yd, Par 5, #17 -- after slicing a long drive left over the trees and into the middle of another fairway, I pulled out my #4 hybrid club. I then crushed a drive 200+ yds over the trees, and landed the ball at the foot of the green, in the center, leaving me a chance to 2-putt for birdie. Of course, my short game deserted me, and I bogeyed again, but -- the best part was that my boss was watching when I hit the 4-hybrid, and later, at the bbq at his house, all he could do was talk about how I crushed that shot. Always good to leave the boss admiring at least part of your game.

3. Boring Business Meeting: Wednesday's meeting blew goats. Nothing is more boring than 5 hours of listening to your colleagues talk about "what we do". I know it's a necessary first step in finding ways to work together, but dear God, I wanted to hang myself by 5 pm.

4. How do I hate thee, US Airways -- let me count the ways.... After last night's bad weather, I was trying to fly out of DC back to NY. My first flight was cancelled in a timely fashion (4:30 for an 8:00 pm flight), but my second flight was listed as being on time -- right up until it wasn't. At 9:05, 5 minutes after we were supposed to have departed, our gate attendant announced that the plane for our flight was here, but because of crew rest rules, the crew attached to our flight was still in Boston, and wouldn't arrive in DC until at least 11 -- and her tone of voice indicated it might be MUCH later. So, I re-scheduled for today, called my parents, and spent the night at the Chapin Family Homestead. Staying there felt odd -- it has always felt like home to me, but now that I have my own daughter and family, it feels a bit foreign to me. Don't know what that's all about. Maybe it's just the continuing process of maturing as an adult.

Hey, motherfuckers, hey...

...so tonight, I'm stuck in the cowtown of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, which is home to the hq of the practice I work for. Don't ask me why it's headquartered in PA, it's a long story.

The good news is that tomorrow morning, I have to be in Tysons Corner for a conference from 1-5, and then I fly out at 8. If any of you DC-based motherfuckers are interested in getting together around lunch or dinner time, call my cell at 203-448-6908.

BC

You know who can't drive?

Women.

What I Did Today

CUBS WIN!

Cubs Celebrate

Seventh inning stretch - boo, Charlie Weis, you're terrible!

Game Day - Cubs-Brewers

Save Net Radio

I don't like to pimp my other stuff, but I think this is important.

Well hell, as long as we're looking back: A worthy successor to the Cardigans; Busch Series

1) Remember being captivated by the Cardigans' "Lovefool"? For some of us, for a while there, that was the theme to shaft. Anyway, based solely on their single that I've heard so far ("Lights On") the Pierces may be a worthy successor.


2) Timmy McCreadie is scheduled to pilot RCR's #31 in this weekend's NBS throwdown. Grew up watching the kid from Watertown fence with his dad, Barefoot Bob McCreadie, maybe the best dirt-track big block modified driver ever, on the 1/3 mile D-Shaped Dirt Demon, Brewerton Speedway:

... Anyhoo, Tim was last year's champ in the WoO Late Models, and his "ABC" career kicked off with a 4th in last weekend's ARCA in Mich. Not so bad for a kid from Watertown who grew up racin' at a place where, "If you don't have dirt in your beer, it ain't racin'."

Hey, It's Been Awhile

The blog is still here? I thought it would be shut down by now because of Brian’s oxycodone and valium addiction. Oxycodone and the “iteret” do not mix.

Couple other thoughts:

• Sammy Sosa hit his 600th home run yesterday and it’s hard to judge exactly what that means. Of all the big home run hitters of the steroid era, he is the only one who hasn’t been linked to one of the true steroid connections – BALCO, Jose Canseco, etc. But it’s hard to get past the era that he piled up those numbers.
  
  What is also interesting – to me at least – is that unlike Barry Bonds or Mark McGwire, Sammy Sosa’s home run barrage was accompanied by a marked improvement in his overall offense, particularly his batting average. In 98, all McGwire did was hit home runs and bat .260. Sosa hit all the home runs and improved his BA dramatically.
  
  The other thing that is interesting is that Sammy’s declining output can be traced not to the increased scrutiny of steroid use, but getting hit in the head early in 2003. He was never the same again.
  
• Cubs fans, I just don’t think it’s going to happen this year. Though the emergence of Felix Pie, THE RIOT, and Fontenot along with pretty good pitching gives hope for the future. Now if only we could get a right fielder who could play.
• I view the rapidly approaching Simpsons movie with trepidation - this could be a huge letdown, much like the last 5-7 seasons. Of course, I have to say, I have been catching up on some of this season's episodes and I have been laughing again. So there's hope.
• I will be seeing Transformers. But I may have to rent the original Transformers movie. The original is always the best. Yes, that is sarcasm.
• Will Dick Butkus be the next coach of New Mexico University's men's basketball team? Devotees of T-NBC will know what I'm talking about.

Audrey enjoys her first sailing trip

Wherein Audrey learns her knots, tries her hand at sailing, and poses for the camera....

American Express...

So, my employer's New York City corporate offices are on the 14th floor of "3 World Financial Center", also named the "American Express Tower". I've been spending a lot of time there during the last couple of weeks working on a proposal. And I just have to say, that damn, American Express sure does employ a lot of talent.

If you know what I mean.

I'd include pictures, but the act of taking them probably would get me kicked out of the building and fired.

By the way, I've now been with my current employer 5 years, 5 months, and 1 day. Whomever bet against me in the "Will Chapin last Five (ok, 1) year(s)?" pool better pay up. I'm talking to you, Joe Weinberg.

HD Television

Leave it to the Wachowski's. This review makes me think I need to get an HD setup for my home. Much like the original DVD release of "The Matrix" made me realize I needed a surround sound audio system in my home.

Yes, let's all remember...

That I am high as a kite, and I've been taking only the minimum of Oxycodone and Valium so far. My head feels like it is constantly swimming, swimming, not that's not Emmett Swimming, where's Beck, who's Beck, when's Beck? And why is the Odelay phenom playing at the Tavern. Oh, that's right, it was before he hit it big, even if "big" only really lasted 1-2 albums..........Shazam.............

I don't understand how people could become addicted to Oxycodone...unless you want to walk through life in a total fog. One certainly couldn't drive on these meds without thinking, hey, why is the road moving back and forth in curvy undulations?

You should all be impressed I can still use the word undulation.............

While You're Laid Up, Chaps

They've finally made the perfect video game. I can only imagine the hours upon hours of play value this title holds.

Watch out, Connecticut and DC

My baby cousin Dan just moved to take a consulting job in DC area (Tysons). He's currently living on someone's floor. If anyone has a good lead on rental opportunities, pls. advise by e-mail. I anticipate he will continue the Snyder tradition of peeing in DC's bushes (and some of the other ones).

Also, family Ranz is headed to Conn. at the end of next month. Andy's got a new job in West Hartford, and they sound really unimpressed with the market there... $400K for a shithole with no lawn and the siding falling off. Other than "things are tough all over," anyone got any answers in the southington/meridien neck of the woods?

From Uncomfortable to Frightening...

So, my Memorial Day went from bad to much, much worse. Left with back pain yesterday, came back with diabetic shock today. Whoopie!

After taking a couple rounds of meds yesterday (Monday), including the steroid Prednisone to reduce swelling of the disc and nerves in my back, I woke up at 2 a.m. Tuesday morning to find my heart pounding so hard I thought it was trying to leave my chest. Thankfully, Cherie and I have a "family" blood pressure and pulse monitor that was a gift from my overzealous mother a few years ago. Never have I been so glad to have a mom who loves to nag about my health as I was yesterday.

The monitor revealed that my BP was 174/104 and my pulse (after sleeping for 2 hrs) was 131. Called the hospital, they said come in NOW.

They had a bed and EKG ready for me as soon as I arrived. Hooked me up to IVs, took blood, ran labs...turned out that the prednisone had caused a rare (4 out of 1000 people experience it) but known side effect. My blood sugar skyrocketed from normal (100 for me, 80-126 is normal range) to 596. I was diagnosed as experiencing "uncontrolled" Type I Diabetes, and was in diabetic shock, which caused my BP and pulse to shoot up and my heart to bounce off of my sternum.

So, I spent most of today in the hospital's emergency unit receiving insulin treatments, fluids, and resting.

The bad news is that I have to continue taking the prednisone for my back, and now have to take a drug that stimulates insulin production to counteract the side effect of the prednisone. The good news is that I'm done with the prednisone on Saturday. According to all concerned, there's a strong chance my pancreas, insulin levels, and blood sugars will return to normal after I stop taking the prednisone. But, there's a small chance that the prednisone caused permanent damage to my pancreas, and I'll now always have Type I Diabetes. We just won't know until I'm done with the prednisone and wait a few weeks to see how my blood sugar comes around.

This sucks.

Fascinatingly for some readers ...

... AU Rag tells me Dancer Monique got married recently.

Which leads me to raise a cold cup of gin in the general direction of Joe.

My lessons for Memorial Day...

This is not actually about Memorial Day, but what happened to me today -- which only coincidentally is Memorial Day. Avert your eyes, all who are squeamish (this especially applies to you, Chris).

I reinjured my back in a serious way this weekend, which led to a stint in the hospital. Consequently, I am now high on Oxycodone and Valium, among other wonderful pharma products. Along the way, though, I learned some lessons previously unknown to me. I guess that's redundant, eh? Blame the goofballs. I write this as a public service to all of you who may one day face the awful experience known as the "rectal exam":

"Lotta pressure" is thoroughly inadequate as a description, warning, or preparation for the sensation of a large man (think Lewis but 2 inches taller and 30 lbs. heavier) named Keith Shafto, PA, shoving one of his meaty fingers up my previously one-way freeway.

The second worst aspect of a rectal exam is the utterly invasive, thoroughly uncomfortable feeling of a large man's finger probing the "tone" of your anal walls -- which leads me again to wonder how it is possible for anyone to enjoy butt sex -- but I digress.

The worst aspect of such an exam is the lingering slipperiness left by by the k-y which once lubed Keith's glove-covered sausage of a finger -- reminding me for hours afterward of this awfulness.

Dilaudid and valium delivered by IV drip are potent, boy, I tell you what...

Oxycodone and valium taken orally and in combination, surprisingly, are even better.

I haven't thrown a cold beer into the mix, but I may have to try that just to compare it to the sensation I had at Keiper's party in '03 the first time I hurt my back, and in desperation to quell the pain (as Chris and Josh remember), took one of Cherie's medications and flew high all night.

Signing off to enjoy the gauzy world of powerful narcotics.

Now this is the Pumpkins...

This song is vintage Smashing Pumpkins.......

So what do you think?

This newly-released single, "Tarantula", off of the Pumpkins' new album, "Zeitgeist", is undeniably catchy. It will no doubt get the Pumpkins a lot of coverage in pop press and even airplay on some modern rock radio stations (not that there are many left). But, to me, this just doesn't sound like the Pumpkins. It sounds more like Billy Corgan fronting Velvet Revolver. There's even a little My Chemical Romance "Black Parade" influence in the refrain. Hmmm, just don't know that I like......

The Apocalypse

These are seven people who should never, ever be in the same living space together again.

But, yes, I will be watching.

Electrical wires taste yummy! aka Audrey's First Near-Death Moment

Audrey is 8 days away from being 8 months old. She is developing rapidly in a number of areas, and that is mostly a lot of fun to experience and observe. You might even say it is a time filled with joy.

However, a healthy dose of fear has sidled up alongside that joy, and it intends to make itself a permanent home in my psyche. Just the other night, it snuck up on me, leaned in toward my ear, and shouted, "HEY! I sure do like me a good fricasee, and whaddya know, your baby is about fricasee herself!"

I had been fixing a problem with our home theater setup. Cherie, working on dinner for Audrey, had walked into the kitchen. But, she had failed to notice that she'd put Audrey down on the floor within reach of my laptop's power cord. That would have been ok, except that moments before, I'd unplugged the laptop from the cord so that I could carry it over to where I was working on our A/V receiver. The cord was plugged into the wall and would be live enough to electrocute any humans who decided to suck on the free end.

Audrey being in the throes of teething, hit upon the cord as a prime contender for "Next Foreign Object For Me To Gnaw On."

It took her only a moment to grab the free end of the power cord and prepare to taste it. I caught a flicker of movement out of the corner of my eye and looked up to see Audrey sitting in front of the couch, with the cord wrapped around her left hand, the free end waving lazily to and fro only inches from her mouth.

Summoning the standing broad jump muscle memory last used to launch myself at the front door of 4319 44th St on a cold, drunken January night, I lunged out from behind the entertainment center, landed in front of Audrey, ripped the power cord from her tiny hands, and in my loudest bellow, let her know that NO! was the order of the day.

Crisis averted. Fear cackled gleefully, and said, "Hey boy, better get used to me. Now that you have her, I'm here till the day that you die!"

He's an ugly little bastard.

I had a premonition last night...

To all my pimps in Accounts Receivable, Yo...

Herbert Kornfeld, Rest In Peace

Cheers and Jeers

Looks like I've been awfully absent lately from the blogs. My job is slowly killing me. So there's that. But I've been able to glean these insights in recent weeks:

Cheers to The Queen and Stranger than Fiction, two movies that United Airlines offered me on my way to and from LA in March. Stranger than Fiction was surprisingly good, with Will Ferrell giving a surprisingly effective non-baffoon comedic role.

Jeers to Blades of Glory, on which I wasted $9.50 ($19 if you add in Susan) for all of three hearty laughs in two hours. Boo, you're terrible.

Moderate cheers to Silversun Pickups, a new band (possibly) whose song "Lazy Eye" you may have heard on the radio. Since Brian is the only one (for the most part) who likes the same music I do, the rest of you can move on, but I would say 5-6 of 11 songs on their newest album are solid, particularly "Little Lover's So Polite" and "Three Seed", whose opening you will hear during a Michael Mann movie death scene or on Scrubs.

Jeers to the Cubs for not being any better than last year.

Cheers to the Cubs for keeping Felix Pie in the bigs rather than sending him back to Triple A where he was hitting .444. He could be the difference.

Jeers to the Illinois Tollway System for lengthening my commute from 40 minutes to 60+ minutes because of construction.

Cheers to me for not beating the crap out of that car whose driver gave me the finger three times because I would not let her cheat the system by letting her in to my lane after I waited 30 minutes in the turn lane. Good thing I didn't have a bat in my car.

Farewell to a Journalistic Giant...

The world has lost a star today.

David Halberstam, one of my favorite journalists and non-fiction authors, was killed today when a car he was riding in was broadsided by another car. His death is a blow to all who loved excellent journalism and fantastic non-fiction writing. My favorite (among many outstanding books) is "The Teammates," about the lifelong friendships between Bobby Doerr, Dom DiMaggio, and Ted Williams. It is small -- in size and scope -- compared to many of his other books, but it is a gem nonetheless.

Halberstam won a Pulitzer Prize for his Vietnam Conflict reporting, and his book on JFK's foreign policy decisionmaking, "The Best and The Brightest," is considered by many to be the definitive analysis of the Kennedy Administration's initiation and management of the Vietnam Conflict.

What a shame.

One for the San Diegans

Heard today on 94.9... Two clues only:

1) This song was intro'd, following commercial break, by nothing more than a gleeful Halloran shouting "What day is it today?"/cut to music...

2) Good for tuberculosis.

It pays to live on higher ground...

...so the "Nor'easter" dumped 8 inches of rain on Danbury, and we barely escaped its wrath. All over our area, roads and homes are flooded. Thankfully, our townhome is on land just a couple of feet higher than the surrounding area...because a two-minute walk from the house, this is the scene (as captured by a Danbury News-Times photographer):You're looking at Federal Road just past the intersection of Federal and Old Brookfield. We live on Old Brookfield Road, just down the street (and I mean a hundred steps down the street) from the intersection. Thank God for higher ground!

Thought you all might enjoy...

...a picture of my daughter without the bunny suit. Enjoy.

Hey, Renkey...

...had breakfast this morning with the Deputy Commissioner of NYPD for IT, Mr. V. James Onalfo. It turns out his son, Curt, is the Curt Onalfo who is head coach of the Kansas City Wizards. How is that for small world?

Happy Easter, Everyone!

Even more glorious:

This one's for you, Chris.

http://syracuse.craigslist.org/spo/306050722.html

Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory

And it is the Brewtender.

Sweet land of liberty...

And now for something completely different...

...best line from Saturday Night Live in the last several years?

Peyton Manning in a skit about a couple having a seemingly normal, then outrageous, conversation while sipping coffee on their porch:

"Know what Carl did for Janice's birthday? He hung himself in the garage."

Sick, wrong, but with that deadpan delivery, funny as s***.

Iran...

For decades, the western world has allowed Iran to behave like an immature, dangerous belligerent, both within its own region and lately, vis a vis the world writ large. Because of its oil reserves and the need to maintain a "balance of power" within the region, it has been allowed to develop nuclear weapons, sponsor worldwide terrorism, outright threaten the existence of another nation, and now it has abducted British naval personnel from Iraqi waters -- this act alone could be considered an act of war against the UK.

I pray that once the UK has recovered its 15 abducted naval personnel, it strikes hard against Iranian military targets -- to include the homes of the mullahs who sponsor terrorism and inspire Iran's belligerent behavior. I hope to see the smoking ruins of Iranian infrastructure live on CNN. Iran needs to be taught a harsh lesson.

WHAT THE F***?

So after a very, very long work day, I was just perusing the Washington Post Online. I was excited to see this article, which discusses the outstanding and (for AU) historic performance by Josh Glenn, an AU wrestler who just won AU's first ever Division 1 athletic national championship. But then I saw that the article included this passage,

"...American's interim Athletic Director, Athena Argyropoulos, said."

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT?

Athena was an SPA GUIDANCE COUNSELOR in the 90s. She was one of two counselors (along with the thoroughly incompetent Anne Kaiser) who helped process my add/drop slips from 1993-1997.

What the hell does she know about being Athletic Director? Other than being (like Neal Kerwin, Sean Bates, etc.) an AU lifer?

Paul, can you shed any light on this?

Sometimes My Job Rocks

For example, getting internal passes to one of our customer's websites. And now we're allowed to talk about it.

Boo. Ya.

Happy Fun Time College Ball Game Picking Tool

Once again, I present you with the ASM scores for all 65 NCAA tournament teams. Check out posts from this time the last three years to understand what it all means. It has been pretty good - even last year when it missed all final four teams, it still had 6 of the final eight and Florida had the highest ASM of the final four.

That's it for my analysis. I'm committed to not overthinking the numbers this year even though I have a tough time picking UNC to win it all.

It's still better than me justifying Illinois going to the Final Four somehow.

ASM - East Region

1. North Carolina - 22.2
2. Georgetown - 15.4
4. Texas - 13.7
9. Michigan State - 12.9
8. Marquette - 11.5
12. Arkansas - 9.5
7. Boston College - 9.4
5. USC - 9.1
6. Vanderbilt - 9.1
3. Washington State - 8.9
10. Texas Tech - 7.3
15. Belmont - 7.0
14. Oral Roberts - 7.0
11. George Washington - 6.5
13. New Mexico State - 5.6
16. Eastern Kentucky - 1.0

ASM - Midwest Region

1. Florida - 20.3
2. Wisconsin - 16.2
4. Maryland - 16.1
6. Notre Dame - 15.4
10. Georgia Tech - 13.1
11. Winthrop - 12.8
3. Oregon - 12.5
5. Butler - 12.2
7. UNLV - 11.4
8. Arizona - 11.3
13. Davidson - 10.8
9. Purdue - 9.6
15. Texas A&M Corpus Christi - 9.1
12. Old Dominion - 9.0
14. Miami (Ohio) - 4.0
16. Jackson State - -4.5

ASM - South Region

3. Texas A&M - 20.2
2. Memphis - 19.6
1. Ohio State - 17.5
9. Xavier - 13.7
6. Louisville - 12.0
8. BYU - 11.6
7. Nevada - 11.5
5. Tennessee - 10.4
10. Creighton - 9.9
4. Virginia - 8.8
14. Penn - 6.5
11. Stanford - 6.1
12. Long Beach State - 5.5
13. Albany - 3.4
15. North Texas - 2.3
16. Central Connecticut State - 1.9

ASM - West Region

1. Kansas - 19.6
2. UCLA - 16.3
6. Duke - 14.7
9. Villanova - 13.8
3. Pittsburgh - 13.3
7. Indiana - 11.9
8. Kentucky - 11.9
5. Virginia Tech - 11.5
10. Gonzaga - 11.2
12. Illinois - 11.2
11. VCU - 9.7
4. Southern Illinois - 8.9
13. Holy Cross - 7.0
14. Wright State - 3.4
16. Niagara - 1.0
15. Weber State - 0.2
16. Florida A&M - -2.1

The Horror...

...so I changed my first diaper of the solid food era this afternoon, and all I have to say about that is, "Oh, my God, the stench...."

10th Anniversary of a Generation Defining Moment

RIP, B.I.G.

Can't do it for Tupac though. He's still alive.

Beer Launching Fridge

This is why God made technology.

Schools

I happened upon this piece by Bill Gates in today's Washington Post titled: How to Keep America Competitive. It includes this time-worn gem to answer the title's premise:

"First, we must demand strong schools so that young Americans enter the workforce with the math, science and problem-solving skills they need to succeed in the knowledge economy."

Bet that took a while to come up with.

But the problem is, it may not be the real solution.

Somewhere I have an article that makes this point: The United States has had underperforming schools relative to the rest of the world for years. Yet the American economy is still the strongest in the world and the most innovative. It's because we never stop learning. We don't rely just on our schools. We learn throughout our working careers too, such that we not only catch up to the rest of the world, we surpass it.

No one is arguing against a strong education system, elementary through high school and beyond. That would be great.

But there's more to staying competitive than high school math achievement relative to the rest of the world. We show that every day.

Don't Believe the Hype...

If you've read or watched the news in the last week, you cannot help but have heard of the shameful condition of at least a portion of Walter Reed Army Hospital. This article in today's Washington Post reports that the Pentagon leadership only just now learned of the particular problems bedeviling Walter Reed's now infamous "Building 18". But don't believe the hype. For decades, Army hospitals have been known as the home of substandard facilities. This is largely the result of Army culture, which does not place a high value on the comfort of facilities used by its soldiers. There's a good reason for this -- you don't want soldiers who may have to go live in a tent in a muddy field for 6 months (or a hot, dry desert) getting too accustomed to too many creature comforts. But long ago, this good reason became an excuse for allowing Army facilities to fall into disrepair.

In 1993, I personally led the rehab of the family waiting room of the Intensive Care Unit at Landstuhl Army Regional Medical Center in Germany when our National Honor Society chapter discovered how appallingly bad its condition was. We raised money, bought furniture, cleaned and painted the walls, replaced the carpeting. It made me sick to see the conditions that family members had to endure while waiting to find out whether their grievously injured loved ones would live or die. Walking around the hospital, I saw lots of peeling paint, broken furniture, stained flooring, etc. It was hardly the type of environment to encourage healing of our wounded warriors. I pray that this expose by the Post leads to a long-term commitment by the Army and all of our armed services to rehabbing the facilities that rehab our soldiers, sailors, airmen and Marines!

don' worry 'bout me boys

...I spent the last week in Clearwater Beach and Tampa, drinking margaritas like I get paid well to do it, helping the boy dip his toes in the ocean and eat his first sand, eating day-fresh seafood that would make a landlocked gourmand cry, and generally living a life of degeneracy. And, my flights back on JetBlue were apparently the only ones in the hemisphere not to get stovepiped by the weather.

Plus I come to find that my snowblower kicks ass, enabling me to dig my way into my house last night in only four hours. So I really don't have anything to complain about.

If you have the means, I highly recommmend it.

==M

Four Choices...

So I am volunteering to host my motor racing-loving friends for one or more motor racing events in New England this summer. As I see it, there are three choices:

1. 7/1/07: The Lenox Industrial Tools 300 (Nextel Cup) at New Hampshire International Speedway in Loudon, New Hampshire. Preceded by the Busch Series New England 200 on 6/30/07.

2. 9/16/07: The Sylvania 300 (Nextel Cup), also at NH International Speedway. To be preceded by the Craftsman Truck Series New Hampshire 200 on 9/15/07. For either of these, Loudon is about a 3.5 hour drive from my house.

3. For a completely different experience, we could try Lime Rock Raceway in Connecticut. It's 44 miles from my house (1 hour). It hosts the Busch Series "Mohegan Sun NASCAR Busch East 200" on 17/18 August. It also hosts GT races (25-28 May), American Le Mans series races (6-7 July), SCCA (Sports Car Club of America) races (19 May, 16 June, 28 July, 11 August, 29 Sep), and a special Vintage Series (presented by BMW) over Labor Day Weekend.

Ok, so now there's potentially a fourth choice...Cherie's employer, ITT Corporation, owns a firm known as Gould's Pumps. It is one of the largest employers in the Finger Lakes area of New York, and it sponsors at least one NASCAR car. Cherie thinks she could get tix to (and possibly VIP passes of some sort) to the races at Watkins Glen. It took me less than 3 hours to drive to the north end of Cayuga Lake, and Watkins Glen is closer than that by about 20 minutes, so I could also host this -- or Snyder could!

Thoughts, gentlemen?

Change Sux

So, Blogger forced me to switch over to the "new" Blogger. Looks pretty much like the same old Blogger to me. Undoubtedly we are getting the shaft in this deal.

F you, Blogger.

I hate change.

An Angel Got Its Wings

Duke is out of the Top 25 for the first time in 11 years.

So, Snyder...

How's that snow?

Ah, it feels like 1992...

So, it has just been announced that Pearl Jam and the Smashing Pumpkins will co-headline the NovaRock Festival in Austria in June. One band resurgent, the other reunited. Together on the bill for the first time since they co-headlined a college tour in the US in 1992 -- along with the Red Hot Chili Peppers. They all came to AU the year before we arrived in '93. What an awesome ticket that must have been.

Oh, if only I could afford a plane ticket to Vienna and a concert ticket. Alas, diapers and commuter train tickets eat up all of my disposable cash. Damned adulthood.

Today, I feel like the opening line of Elliott Smith's Miss Misery: "I will fake it through the day, with some help, from Johnny Walker Red............"

Just for the Record

I'm not exactly brimming with confidence that the Bears will win Sunday. But it will be jig-worthy if they do.

Also, having watched the Super Bowl Shuffle yesterday at work, I can say this: it does not hold up well over time.

Another Bears Song

Repeats not allowed? For shame. Prepare to have this little ditty stuck in your head the rest of the day:

Chorus: We are the Bears Shufflin' Crew Shufflin' on down, doin' it for you. We're so bad we know we're good. Blowin' your mind like we knew we would. You know we're just struttin' for fun Struttin' our stuff for everyone. We're not here to start no trouble. We're just here to do the Super Bowl Shuffle.

Walter Payton: Well, they call me Sweetness, And I like to dance. Runnin' the ball is like makin' romance. We've had the goal since training camp To give Chicago a Super Bowl chance. And we're not doin' this Because we're greedy. The Bears are doin' it to feed the needy. We didn't come here to look for trouble, We just came here to do The Super Bowl Shuffle.

Willie Gault: This is Speedy Willie, and I'm world class. I like runnin' but i love to get the pass. I practice all day and dance all night, I got to get ready for the Sunday fight. Now I'm as smooth as a chocolate swirl, I dance a little funky, so watch me girl. There's not one here that does it like me, My Super Bowl Shuffle will set you free.

Mike Singletary: I'm Samurai Mike I stop'em cold. Part of the defense, big and bold, I've been jammin' for quite a while, Doin' what's right and settin' the style, Give me a chance, I'll rock you good, Nobody messin' in my neighborhood. I didn't come here lookin' for trouble, I just came to do The Super Bowl Shuffle

(Repeat Chorus)

Jim McMahon: I'm the punky QB, known as McMahon. When I hit the turf, I've got no plan. I just throw my body all over the field. I can't dance, but I can throw the pill. I motivate the cats, I like to tease. I play so cool, I aim to please. That's why you all got here on the double To catch me doin' the Super Bowl Shuffle.

Otis Wilson: I'm mama's boy Otis, one of a kind. The ladies all love me For my body and my mind. I'm slick on the floor as I can be But ain't no sucker gonna get past me. Some guys are jealous Of my style and class, That's why some end up on their -, I didn't come here lookin' for trouble, I just get down to The Super Bowl Shuffle.

Steve Fuller: They say Jimbo is our man. If Jimmy can't do it, I sure can. This is Steve, and it's no wonder I run like lightnin', pass like thunder. So bring on Atlanta, bring on Dallas, This is for Mike and Papa Bear Halas. I'm not here to feather his ruffle, I just came here to do The Super Bowl Shuffle.

Mike Richardson: I'm L.A. Mike, and I play it cool. They don't sneak by me 'cause I'm no fool. I fly on the field and get on down. Everybody knows I don't mess around. I can break'em, shake'em, Any time of day. I like to steal it and make 'em pay, So please don't cry to beat my hustle 'Cause I'm just here to do The Super Bowl Shuffle.

(Repeat Chorus)

Richard Dent: The sackman's comin', I'm your man Dent. if the quarterback's slow, He's gonna get bent. We stop the run, we stop the pass, I like to dump guys on their -. We love to play for the world's best fans, You better start makin' Your Super Bowl plans. But don't get ready or go to any trouble Unless you practice The Super Bowl Shuffle.

Gary Fencik: It's Gary here, and I'm Mr.Clean. They call me "hit man," Don't know what they mean. They throw it long and watch me run, I'm on my man, one-on-one. Buddy's guys cover it down to the bone, That's why they call us the 46 zone. Come on everybody let's scream and yell, We're goin' to do the Shuffle, Then ring your bell.

William Perry: You're lookin' at the Fridge, I'm the rookie. I may be large, but I'm no dumb cookie. You've seen me hit, you've seen me run, When I get the pass, we'll have more fun. I can dance, you will see The others, they all learn from me. I don't come here lookin' for trouble, I just came here to do The Super Bowl Shuffle.

(Repeat Chorus)

Bear Down Redux...

In honor of this blog's owner, and his Super Bowl-bound Chicago Bears....

Bear Down, Chicago Bears
Make every play, clear the way to victory!

Bear Down, Chicago Bears
Put up a fight with a might so fearlessly!

We'll never forget the way you thrilled the nation
With your T-formation

Bear Down, Chicago Bears
And let them know why you're wearing the crown!

You're the pride and joy of Illinois,
Chicago Bears, Bear Down!!

Better than Ninjas, or, Beating up the Boss

Actually my boss is a pretty nice guy. I have no desire to beat him up.

But this is frickin' hilarious.

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/asia-pacific/5251952.stm

The Disingenuous Democrats...

Few can argue that it has been the Democratic Party that has been leading the public relations charge against the strategic and tactical changes being made by the Administration and military in Iraq. Congresspeople and Senators with names like Pelosi, Murtha, Reid, and others have railed against the "surge".

One would assume that if a Congressperson or Senator believes fervently in the wrongness of the "surge" and other components of the President's new strategy for success in Iraq, then it is incumbent upon that Congressperson or Senator to exhaust Congress' warmaking and oversight powers to prevent or end the surge, and even the entire Iraq adventure.

Instead, witness Senate Majority Leader, Harry Reid's, recent quotes during an interview with the new Washington, DC, political newspaper, "The Politico": Republicans "would like this debate to be as whether or not we are going to be cutting off money for the troops," Senate Majority Leader Harry Reid recently told The Politico. "The logical conclusion is that a lot of things can happen. But right now, the most important thing is to tell the president that what he has done with the escalation is wrong. And that's what we are doing, bi-partisanly."

You are Congress. You alone have the Constitutional authority to declare war. Under your War Powers Resolution of 1973, you have clarified the circumstances under which a president may take the country to war, and you have reserved for yourself the right to withdraw statutory warmaking authority from the executive branch. And the extreme action you're taking is "to tell the president that what he has done...is wrong"??????

Reid's quote lays bare the true nature of the "opposition" in the Congress to the Iraqi conflict, led by the Democratic Party. It's not actually interested in solving what it perceives to be a problem -- not interested in exercising its powers, acting boldly (or recklessly, depending on your perspective) -- it's content with just talking about it. How sad and pathetic. How poorly we are all represented by the new party in power. Shame on them for their weakness and laziness.

PS Contrast this with Senator Russ Feingold, who at least has the courage of his convictions.

Would You Have Accepted My One Phone Call?

When I got home last night, I found a business card in my door frame from a special agent with the Criminal Investigations Bureau of the California Department of Justice. There was a hand written note at the bottom that said "Pls. call [REDACTED]" with a phone number that was not already printed on the card.

I called the phone number, and reached a recording of a female informing me that I had reached the voicemail of the name printed on the business card. I left a message giving my phone number.

Not sure what this was about, I immediately called my cousin's husband who is a detective with the Sacramento police department. (I also called Ben Maplethorpe who was, unfortunately, in bed when I called. I guess now that he's a cop, he actually goes to bed early. Sorry, Ben.) The best my cousin-in-law could offer was that it could be regarding just about anything, and to let him know what I found out.

I then turned to the one other resource I had at my disposal which would reveal if I've been tapped to provide information as part of a clearance check, or if one of my friends recently ran afoul of the law. (Not that I'm accusing anyone. But, let's be honest: if that situation were to happen, someone on this site would know of it.)

This morning, I called the number again. No response. I didn't leave a voicemail.

Around 10:15, she called me back. Let's replay that conversation, shall we?

Me: This is Josh.
Special Agent (subsequently to be to referred to as S.A.): Joshua Cheshire? This is Special Agent [REDACTED] with the California Department of Justice. Do you have a moment to speak with me?
Me: Hi. Yeah, I can talk now. How can I help you?
S.A.: You should know that I'm partnered with the F.B.I.'s Counterterrorism Unit. We received some information and would like to ask you some questions around that.
Me (wondering what you guys have gotten me into now): Okay...
S.A.: Specifically, can you tell me if you visited the city of Denver in September of 2006?
Me: It's quite possible. May I ask what, specifically, this is about?
S.A.: Would you prefer to speak in person?
Me: Yes, I would.

At least now I was 95% certain that it didn't involve any of you. But, I was in the area meeting with Focus on the Family at the time. God only knows what that crazy little enclave is up to at any point in time. (Some day, I'll have to tell you about that particularly creepy day.)

It was decided that she was coming to my office to speak with me. Now.

Imagine the buzz in the office when at 11:00 AM this morning, two members of the California Department of Justice show up flashing badges asking to speak with Joshua Cheshire.

Short version? It turns there was some sort of activity that occurred in the city of Denver the day I arrived. It happened with the same vehicle I rented the night I got in. I clearly remember this rental, as the guy who had it before me was being extremely difficult with the rental agency and refusing to return it. Now I'm just wondering if I was radiologically poisoned.

S.A.: Well, Joshua, it looks like you weren't even in town when the event occurred. We're going to follow up on your flight information, and assuming it comes out as you say it was, you'll probably never hear from us again.

Comments

It has come to my attention that comments have not been posting. Well, it's true. I recently approved about five months of comments. Scroll through and see what people thought about your posts months ago.

I'm going to turn off the comment moderation, which I think is preventing the comments. If we have comment spam problems, we'll revisit the issue.

That is all.

Indiana (at least parts) is Bears Country

I won't be inundating you with posts about the Super Bowl in the next couple weeks, but this article in the Chicago Tribune today is really interesting about how the northern part of Indiana is filled with Bears fans. It should be somewhat interesting to you because the town that is its case study is Renssalaer, Indiana.

I witnessed this personally this past weekend in Susan's hometown where I saw more Bears gear than Colts - though I think it's more of a generational thing (older folks are Bears fans, younger folks are Colts fans) than a geographical thing.

What Have You Gotten Me Involved in Now?

I came home this evening to find a business card on my front door from a special agent in the Criminal Intelligence Bureau of the California Department of Justice. Anybody want to tell me something?

Go Bears

Bear Down, Chicago Bears
Make every play, clear the way to victory!

Bear Down, Chicago Bears
Put up a fight with a might so fearlessly!

We'll never forget the way you thrilled the nation
With your T-formation

Bear Down, Chicago Bears
And let them know why you're wearing the crown!

You're the pride and joy of Illinois,
Chicago Bears, Bear Down!!

48 Hours in Vegas

What, I don't pay attention to the blog for a while and Chapin's driving the national debate on the Iraq surge?

Anyway, so at the end of last week, I went to Vegas - for work. Here's a little quiz about my time there. Which one of the following things did I do while in Vegas:

a. Eat pigeon.
b. Tool around in stretch Hummer for no particularly good reason.
c. School a bunch of Consumer Electronics Show stragglers in poker.
d. Be in town during the apparently annual porn convention.
e. Stay at the magnificent Wynn Hotel, the newest on the Strip.

Trick question. It's all of the above. Can't say actually working in Vegas is exactly worth it, given how it cut into gambling time. But I was able to fit in all the rest of that. The Wynn is nice. Stretch Hummers are ridiculous, the CES guys sucked at poker, and I don't know how the porn convention was (honest!) but there was a little more artificiality than normal there.

And here's the verdict on pigeon as a meal: it's a fattier quail.

Is Congress truly powerless?

So, even from my remote outpost in Danbury, CT, I've been following (via MSNBC) the punditocracy as it ruminates over Congress' supposed powerlessness to "stop the surge".

Most pundits have said with certainty that the only power Congress might have over the presidential action is the power of the purse -- in other words, Congress can cut or rescind the appropriation and/or authorization of funds used to support the surge.

But here's a premise, and a question for the scholarly among you:

1. Congress, according to Article 1, Section 8 of the US Constitution, is the only US governmental entity expressly empowered to declare war.

2. Congress, through the War Powers Resolution (Public Law 93-148), clarified the circumstances under which, and the manner in which, the executive and legislative branches interact when the US government commits its forces to hostilities. In that resolution, Congress essentially creates two "extra-constitutional" grounds for the President to commit US forces to hostilities:

A. "...specific statutory authorization...."
B. "...a national emergency created by attack upon the United States, its territories or possessions, or its armed forces."

3. Congress authorized the president wide authority to commit US forces to hostilities to Iraq in the "Authorization for Military Use of Force Against Iraq Resolution of 2002", aka Public Law 107-243.

4. Why couldn't the "powerless" Congress simply do one of the following:

A. Pass a new Joint Resolution simply stating, "The Congress of the United States, consistent with its powers under Article 1, Section 8, of the US Constitution, and consistent with its War Powers Resolution of 1973, hereby rescinds the statutory authorization granted to the Executive Branch in Public Law 107-243." There would have to be a few procedural steps afterward, but unless this new resolution was reversed, my understanding after reading the law is that the President would be without any legal authority to wage any hostilities (up to and including war) against Iraq.

b. Pass a new Joint Resolution simply stating, "The Congress of the United States, under Article 1, Section 8, of the United States Constitution, hereby renounces any and all laws, previously passed, to include Public Law 107-243, that alone or together could be interpreted as a declaration of war against the sovereign nation of Iraq."

Thoughts?

This quote sums up my feelings...

...about Miller Lite (and for that matter, most American beer),

"Miller Lite...now there's a beer. I'll tell you what, I could piss in a cup and give it to this guy here and he'd like it better than a Miller Lite. "

Eddie Vedder

Do You Take It?

So barely work safe, it's not actually work safe.

Double Happiness

Oh... Oh my.
The seventh seal has been opened. Pre-order your own copy now.

New Lewis

Nate was born at 10:34 on 12/22. Manda's water broke the night before at about 6:30, and we went to the hospital at about 8:30. We've got pictures up at Walgreens (you'll need to make an account there to see them). There's one picture of him on the scale right after delivery showing him weighing 7 pounds, two ounces. Later, while up in the nursery, the nurse was checking him out, and asked me if he was close to nine pounds, because he felt so heavy. I told her what the scale said he weighed, so she weighed him again, and he was 8 pounds 5 ounces. So that picture is pretty funny now.

I Believe the Phrase is "Huzzah!"

Brain Can Repair Alcohol's Damage

Catch Me Ridin' Dirrrrrty............

Mainly I posted because I just couldn't stand to see "Malted Vomit" on top of this blog any more. I couldn't help but conjure a visual image of what that must look like, and it just made me ill.

Oh, and as part of my current project, my team is conducting "user observations". The goal is to watch cops do their job in the field and then come into the precinct house, to see how, when, where, and why they would use the tool we're developing for them.

So, Thursday, I will spend the day roaming with New York's Finest as they patrol in the territory of "The 7-9", reputedly NYC's toughest (aka most crime-ridden) precinct. The 79th Precinct encompasses a 1.2 square mile patch of land in north Brooklyn that is more popularly known as Bedford Stuyvesant, or "Bed-Stuy". Among Bed-Stuy's notable alumni are Jay-Z, Notorious BIG, Big Daddy Kane, Mos Def...and Lil' Kim.

Will report back (possibly with pics, if the cops allow me to take them).

Oh, and I'm getting outfitted with Kevlar for this particular mission. Sh-weeetttt.

Malted Vomit...

...or, why I (heart) XM...

Because how else would I hear Guttermouth on my way to work in the morning?

Great Article

About my college cross country coach.

Spot on.

FYI - There is a great deal of profanity, as would be expected in the City Paper and from Matt.

Please Pen the Goose...

Today, I watched the Bears-Vikings game on Fox, featuring the broadcasting trio of Dick "Hair Plug " Stockton, Daryl "Moose" Johnston, and Tony "The Big Fat Stupid Idiot" Siragusa. Now, I like Stockton despite his awful hair plugs, Moose is a surprisingly good broacaster and will always have a warm spot in my heart due to his tenure as a Cowboy, but I CAN'T STAND Tony Siragusa.

Has there ever been a sideline reporter given to more idiotic utterances than Siragusa? Can Fox not see that he is an awful "reporter"? It seems that instead, they're giving himself more rope to hang himself. Today, it appeared that they gave him an open mic on the sideline. He frequently interrupted Stockton and Johnston with random utterances like, "Yeah, I'm here, I'm here" or "I'm like an icecube." He was obviously talking to other people on the sidelines, not paying attention to the fact that his mic was on. It became first distracting, then annoying, then downright painful.

Please, Fox, pull the plug on the Goose, before I'm forced to watch crappy AFC football on CBS.