specialk189's Xanga

Another Chicago 34 gone

Tue, 07 Mar 2006 15:03:06 GMT

Kirby Puckett, as anyone who reads the sports pages knows, died yesterday.

Hopefully, today's athletes will read the headlines, see the photo slideshows and video montages and remember back to watching him play. And maybe they'll remember how much fun it is and how lucky they are.

Puckett was one of my favorite athletes. He played with an outright enthusiasm and love for the game. He was happy to be there, and anyone who saw him knew it. He wasn't the most in-shape, but damned if he'd let that stop him. He zipped around the outfield with the speed and countenance of a pinball. He never ran the bases — he scooted around them. And just because he was having fun didn't mean he wasn't competitive — is asking a team to climb on your back not one of the ballsiest statements ever uttered in sports?

It just seems like there are so few athletes like that now, that still play the game like a little kid. I
look at what happened after, and I'm not surprised — and to my chagrin, so many columnisits dredge it up, saying he ruined his legacy. I think it's irresponsible not to mention it, but it's equally irresponsible to take it out of context. If you saw Puckett play, you knew he loved the game. LOVED it. And that was torn from him, by no fault of his own. He'd worked insanely hard to get there, cherished it while he was there and then in the fading of an eye, it was gone. That's a void so painful, I can't even imagine it. Does it necessarily excuse what actions he did do? No. Does it make them gain a little more sense? Sure. It's easy to judge when you sit at a desk commenting on the actions of others. But say, soon after one of these guys won a Pulitzer, they lost use of their hands. How would they deal? Or if you lost what you loved —what you'd based your very life around? It wouldn't be easy.

Puckett played in an era when I unconditionally adored baseball, no questions asked. I knew the name and position of every player — how could I not, when I had stacks of boxed and binders chocked with baseball cards, religiously following the minute fluctuations in their averages? I knew I'd never play, but there was something honest and pure and fun about the game. I think that's gone from it now. And, sadly, one of the men who embodied that, who was baseball, who was sandlots and Neat's Foot Oil, who was the dream of every kid who spent endless hours winging a ball at the side of a house; now, he's gone too.

May I suggest the Port?

Wed, 22 Feb 2006 13:26:58 GMT

This whole Arab-controlled company controlling U.S. ports story is quickly becoming a dangerous one. For those of you that need background, check it out.

All in all, the situation is a sad state of affairs.

Arab advocacy groups have begun trumpeting the calls of bigotry on the part of officials who would block the deal. See? Now, it's hard to argue with their stance. Certainly, Americans get in an uproar when other countries such as Germany and Japan move to purchase our large primary-job providers. And there are people who call for the deal to be stopped, but rarely are those people in such high positions of influence. No doubt there are security concerns with any sort of port deal — including American ones (we can be terrorists, too, remember?). It's impossible to ignore the history Americans have as far as pigeonholing people, so there's obviously something else happening here, even if it is lurking deep in the dark recesses of our psyches. Because of the unfortunate connotation people of Arab descent here have with terrorism, prejudice is undeniably at work.

Sadly, however, that prejudice is founded. Look at this whole cartoon snafu. It doesn't do a people a whole lot of credit when they destroy things and hurt and even kill others over a cartoon. Yes, many of those Mohammed cartoons could be construed as offensive, and yes, the call for them from the Danes was insensitive and juvenile. That does not excuse the actions of a violent and narrow-minded few, however — for Jeff MacNelly's sake, the cartoonists had bounties put on their heads. Can you imagine the havoc in this country if the Christian fundamentalists went around the bend every time they got offended? The cities would be in ruins, heaps of smoldering rubble, and all the newspapermen, gays and environmentalists would have to develop some sort of underground sewer-city to avoid persecution and reconditioning programs; meanwhile, massive crosses and temples would soar above the fallen secular false idols, ushering in a new era of faith-based America as Bill Frist, Sam Brownback and Pat Robertson gaze on in leathery-faced, too-white-teeth-grinned glee.

Its unfortunate that the many are labeled by the acts of a few. Arabs, who happen to be predominately Muslim, have been slapped with the label of potential terrorists and dangerous fundamentalist freaks. Americans have been derided as world-hating snobs with no regard for pretty much anyone but ourselves, and we'll crush you if you get in our way.

Neither perception is right. Neither is fair. But enough people with enough power are taking enough action to keep them alive, and, by extension, keep them from seeming wrong.

Ports being the latest firestorm seems too appropriate. Don't you get the sense that a ship is sinking here?

America on ice

Mon, 20 Feb 2006 17:42:36 GMT

The frothing throng of hockey journalists (do they even qualify as a throng at this point? pack? group? two Canadians in a bar?) have been ranting about the dire need for the NHL to pull its stars from the Olympics. They cite wear and tear, lackadasical play and a missing sense of team cohesiveness.

It's really the only news the hockey world has seen lately short of gambling, gold-digging wives, and I shan't touch either of those. There's a bigger, more pressing issue regarding Olympic hockey going untouched: The USA's uniforms.

Really, could they be more patheitic? USA in block script, with a little star in the "A" and a sort of red-and-white-striped flag pattern weaving out of the bottom end of the "S." That's it. That's duller than a broken spork.

Look at the other countries. They all have some sort of nifty crest or logo representing the spirit, the emblem of the county. Germany has its sleek eagle. Sweden the three crowns. Finland, its rampant lion. Slovakia has ... whatever that cross-thingy they have is. That's pride. That's having something to identify yourselves with. That's knowing your heritage. (Switzerland, by the by, doesn't count. That's a neutral country, and what symbolizes neutral? Maybe they need solid grey uniforms. And Italy, well, its hockey team is a novelty cobbled together for this week-long stretch. What else can we expect?)

Should the Americans' unis sink to the level of those droll nations? I would argue otherwise. We need a crest, something inspired and patriotic, not a bland template that could be used to market anything from athletic apparel to drill bits.

Why not a bald eagle, something emblematic of the presidential seal? Or maybe a statue of liberty-type design (The Capitals and Rangers can suck it up; this is our country dammit!). Something the players can look down to and remember why they leapt on this plane in the first place. Something we can see to remind us why we want to watch and root for them. Something that embodies: AMERICA.

Actually, come to think of it, never mind. We'd end up either with Uncle Sam lighting all those other crests on fire, or a giant "Drink Coke."

U-S-A!

olympic evolution

Sat, 18 Feb 2006 16:41:02 GMT

Journalism's arbitrary notion that experience makes a good reporter has been exposed, blown wide open thanks to the cold winds sweeping down from the Italian alps.

Sportswriters, desperate and old, are trying to find compelling angles in these Olympic games. And they complain when people like Lindsey Jacobellis and Bode Miller fail to win. I bet that deep down, they did want to win, but they're railing against the media for all the exposure, trying to brush it off.

The media want quotes punctuated with weeps and sobs. The kids just want to have fun. They're still clutching to the memories when an Olympic medal could unite a country; that doesn't happen any more. It's too regional, too fractured. Is it bad or good? It doesn't matter; it's gone. If you want that, move to another country, a country that needs its athletes to add to national pride.

Our sense of nationalism is kaput, in sports at least. Why do we need a Miracle on Ice when we can have a Maraudering in Iraq? We don't need gold medals anymore.

And I understand this. I've seen it happen (and don't get me wrong; I appreciate and enjoy the Olympics and miss watching them, but I know they've changed). The old guard media hasn't. For better or for worse, America has moved on. It's time for those journalists to do the same.

Wednesday, February 15, 2006

Wed, 15 Feb 2006 02:56:06 GMT

Valentine's Day.

The cruelest holiday of the year.

If you're with someone, you lord it over other people but really you're just desperately trying to compensate for all the other days of the year when you keep messing things up.

If you're not, you're left to wonder what in holy fuck is wrong with you and why does your life suck and if you see one more smarmy, love-struck shmuck buying a heap of flowers in a store you want to brain them with horseshoe then use those flowers to make that person completely airtight.

I basically try to avoid thinking about it entirely. Of course, I have nothing that can appropriately distract me — see the my sports teams suck post — so I end up failing miserably.

To that though, why the hell would Sports Illustrated release its Swimsuit Issue today? It reminds those of us who don't have anyone that we'll never get a woman like that, and it reminds those of us that do have someone that she'll never look as good as a sand-dappled Marissa Miller. Now, go, my followers, and pursue your unrealistic expectations! I'm off to weep in a corner.

Thursday, February 09, 2006

Thu, 09 Feb 2006 14:59:15 GMT

Seeing as how I've and my heart and soul ripped out and turned to puppy chow this past week or so, I need to do something to cheer me up. And because my spirit is but a pale reflection of anything resembling humanity, I can't be too creative.

Therefore, (in honor of the Pittsburgh Stillers), I humbly present
Troy Polamalu facts!
Troy Polamalu doesn't tackle; he dispenses justice.

Troy Polamalu could play quarterback, and he would make Peyton Manning look like a four-year-old. But Troy Polamalu's passes would kill any receiver on impact.

"Katanas" were once known as "Polamalus." Then they were deemed not lethal enough and the name changed.

Troy Polamalu's hair is home to at least three species of lizard found nowhere else on earth.

The city of Pittsburgh tried to rename itself Polamalusburg. But the buildings and infrastructure couldn't support the sheer power of the name.

Troy Polamalu once collectively tackled(dispensed justice to) the New York Giants, Jets and cast of Rent.

Troy Polamalu could intercept a particle in an atom smasher.

A look into Troy Polamalu's eyes is more fatal than a shot of cobra venom.

Troy Polamalu's so fast, he's right behind you now. But you looked too slowly and you mssed it. Now you'll live in fear of when it might happen again.

Thursday, January 26, 2006

Thu, 26 Jan 2006 15:32:19 GMT

Life on Loan

The Seattle Post Intelligencer carried an item of deep personal interest today: a story on student loans.
It basically followed the trying times of people in their 40s, making huge salaries and yet still struggling to get by. It was both depressing, baffling, encouraging (only a little) and daunting.

Here's an excerpt for those of us too lazy to follow links:

Driven by rising education costs and easier access to funds, total student loan debt has ballooned during the past decade, economists said. About two-thirds of students now rely on loans to graduate, compared with less than half a decade ago, according to a report by the Center for Economic and Policy Research, a Washington, D.C.-based think tank.

This combination of forces has the potential to create a new class of working poor -- those who have fallen behind before they've had a chance to get ahead. These are secret strugglers. They aren't counted anywhere, and no one is sure how large their ranks are, although anecdotal evidence would suggest they are increasing. They don't necessarily look, act or identify themselves as financially challenged. They are rich in education, but they've leveraged their futures for the privilege.

Based on the center's analysis of government data from 2004, the average amount of government loans used to graduate from a four-year public institution was $15,662, compared with $9,798 (adjusted for inflation) in 1990. For private schools, the average amount borrowed was $22,581, about one-third higher than in 1990.

What gets me is that middle paragraph. It makes a good point, and I feel as though it labels me so clearly, I should stitch it into the back of my neck. Certainly, I have some nice things — despite living in a Godforsaken trailier: laptop, bike, snowboard, many books (all paperback), a cell phone. I have some fairly nice clothes — only three pairs of dress pants, two if you don't count the ones with the hole in the crotch, my own car, stylish glasses. But really, I'm coming to realize this all has to LAST, and I may not be able to hold onto it for long anyway (the bike may be on the chopping block).

I've got a hefty amount of loans. Maybe not med-school or law-school size, but substantial nonetheless, and I work on a journalist's salary, so they may as well BE those kind of loans. But I see the money these people in the story make, and I don't understand how they can't do it. I'm worried, sure, but with some careful planning, I should be okay. I'll be paying them off when I'm 40, I know this, but I don't see them as crippling.

At least not immediately.

As the piece says, I've certainly fallen behind before I got ahead. I've limited my opportunities and my margin for error. I've got a safety net made of wet tissues, and it's a long way down. And I've got private loans, which mean that I can't consolidate or defer for anything short of graduate school. This is scary, to say the least. I'll be living in places fit for rats for some time (unless I go screaming back to mommy).

Of course, this was my decision and my problem, and bitching about it won't get me anywhere. I just have to do it.

Just don't ask me whether I'm glad I went to CU for a few years.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Wed, 25 Jan 2006 17:43:38 GMT

Can belligerence bring understanding?

I'm not even pretending to work today.

I'm going to give you all a little assignment. Read this, then come back, and we'll discuss.

...

About the only thing that can't be argued here is that Stein uses one hell of an eye-catching lead (by the by, I refuse to use the term "lede." It's an irrelevant, anachronistic term, like "forsooth" or "Chicago Blackhawks hockey" that I think is just journalists trying to act hoity-toity).

After that, though, everything is up for grabs.

After reading this, most people probably had one of two reactions: Either they wanted to high-five Stein, or punch him in the neck.

I think, in essence of argument, Stein's got a good point — although I think I'd appreciate this more if it wasn't for the humor he drops in; some of it fits, but to do it right, you have to have subtlety, not a hammer. It is a weak position that bleeds into hypocrisy — the ultimate compromise, a good way to stop yourself from being labeled an America-hater while still taking a position of dissent. Looking at it from a logical standpoint, it seems almost impossible. I don't support the war, yet I support the agents of war. I'm searching for an analogy, and for once, I'm failing. I think this may work: I really hate racism, but I like what those Ku Klux Klan guys are doing. Doesn't that seem ridiculous? But it's what's happening; it's just that KKK members are disdained by most people, so that comparison seems ridiculous, while the troops stance seems to make sense.

I'm not sure I can honestly take a position on this. My cousin, Daniel, just enlisted in the Marines and just finished basic. He "can't say" where he's off to next, but I think we can all figure out that it's one of two places. I don't support the war. Never did. It seemed BS from the beginning to me, and I think this was partly because I was out of the country when the idea was publicly pitched and never heard straight American rhetoric. This was a big mistake, and no matter how better off the world is without Saddam, I personally don't think the sacrifice of life on both sides has been worth it.

But how can I say I don't support Dan? I watched him grow from boy to man, and spent plenty of holidays helping him to assemble his Lego sets amid scraps of wrapping paper on Grandma's living room floor. Clearly, he no longer needs my help, and judging by the pictures I have of him, he'll be kicking some serious ass. So, then, is saying I support him "wussy," as Stein puts it? (And I refuse to sneak out the back door by supporting Dan and no one else).

No.

No, because I think that people who sign up for the military don't do it to support unjust causes. They do it to support something they believe in and presumably love: America. They do it because they're trying to get by, maybe get some financial help or get their life in order, or both. Nothing about those is unjust. They don't go in trying to support preordained and unjustifiable political agendas pushed by men and women who never need suffer the consequences of those agendas. Stein poses the idea of military people ignoring their morality. Does he really think that's what happens? I think military people who see combat action are more aware of their morality (and mortality) than most anyone. Talk to someone who's done it, and ask them tough questions about what it was like. The veneer of toughness or pride will crack, maybe if for only a moment, and their eyes and face will tell you they know more about morality than you will ever understand. See that, and then say you don't support them.

If given full intelligence about the actual preconditions for this war (assuming, of course, that's even possible), I'm sure most every soldier would have at least hesitated before polishing his or her rifle. But a military can't function like that (nor can a business, government, fraternity or newsroom). It's sad that's the case, but it is. And it's sadder that some people in positions of power abuse the hell out of that. Those are the people that don't need our support; indeed, they need our ire and anger.

That's why, agree or disagree, it was important and good that Stein wrote this. Because it creates a debate and makes people think and it shows anti-war people moving away from positions of fear and cowing to war-hawk pushed cries of "America-hater!" The good W and I were talking, and we thought it was interesting how anti-war activists who speak out and go too far are derided viciously — Ward Churchill and Cindy Sheehnan come to mind — while people on the side of the war who go to far are written off as loonies — Pat Robertson. That needs to stop, even if it means a lot of insensitive and possibly assholish views. Warren put it better than I could, and I quote him here: "If we all try to cater to the fear of confrontation, it's never going to be resolved- and it clearly needs to be resolved."

Yup. And then we can turn high-fives and punches into something much more important:
Handshakes.

Wednesday, January 25, 2006

Wed, 25 Jan 2006 16:07:09 GMT

Surveillance and stupidity

This update exists in spite of itself. I'm really tired, fried and I smell like (and am somewhat covered in) ash from the fireplace. But I want to give WRG something to read, and I need to do something soul-charging before court this afternoon.

---

Internet users, news junkies and porn freaks (I'm sure at least two of those are redundant) by now have to be aware of the Justice Department's request of online search companies to turn over search records in an effort to keep with an online pornography law.

AOL, MSN and Yahoo all showed they have the backbone of a common garden slug and caved. Google, however, has resisted so far, and big ups to them for doing so. I understand the need to weed out people trafficking in child pornography, but I can't get in line with the Feds' reasoning here. Even if you strictly police the Internet, you're not going to eliminate it, and there's no way its worth limiting the freedom of expression the Internet offers to do so. If I want to search for "Brokeback hobbit goat orgies," well, damnit, I should be able to do so (whether or not it yields no matches — one day ...).

Frankly, this stuff is getting freaky. First the NSA phone taps and now this. Seriously, I grew up an only child and now I have a big brother? This isn't right. People should be straight pissed off, and yet, no one seems to care. It seems as though this administration could just go out and start stepping on puppies in the name of national security, and people wouldn't bat an eye. It's going to be interesting to see what, if anything, will push people over the edge. There's going to be no sense of a national pulse until the elections in November, and so much stuff can happen between now and then.

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Did anyone see David Letterman go all Kobe Bryant (that's right — I verbed "Kobe Bryant", and let the record show I'm the first to do so) against Bill O'Reilly? If not, check it, then come back. I'll wait.

It was nice to see Letterman show some fangs. I think it speaks volumes that a guy who claims to be the voice of the people and all that got served, if you will, by a man who spends most of his time interviewing people such as Tom Cruise and Oprah Winfrey — not a knock against Letterman, mind you; I find it amazing he can stay so sharp, sorting through the entertainment world slurry that he must, but shouldn't someone who goes up against political pundits nightly do better? Not so tough when you can't drop the interview on your terms are you, Billy O?

I try to avoid party-lining myself most of the time. Regardless what I think of Michael Moore, I agree with his statement, "I'm not anti-right or anti-left, I'm anti-dumb." (It's hard to see how much Moore truly subscribes to that, though.) But I'm gonna go ahead and say if the Dems could somehow formally recruit Jon Stewart and Letterman to positions of confrontational and debate power, that would do a lot to ferret out all the "dumb" in this administration and expose a lot of the crap that's going on. Those two are sharper than Leonardo's katanas.

---

Speaking of dumb, here's Bush's response to being asked about "Brokeback Mountain" in Kansas (courtesy of Richard Roeper):

Audience member: "You're a rancher. A lot of us here in Kansas are ranchers. I was just wanting to get your opinion on 'Brokeback Mountain,' if you've seen it yet? (Laughter.) You would love it. You should check it out."

W: "I haven't seen it. I'll be glad to talk about ranching, but I haven't seen the movie. (Laughter.) I've heard about it. I hope you go -- you know -- (laughter) -- I hope you go back to the ranch and the farm is what I'm about to say. I haven't seen it. (Laughter and applause.)"

Good to know the Chief can think well on his feet. One only hears that sort of gibberish and dancing around a topic when listening to drunk homeless men on 2 a.m. buses, or women.

Monday, January 23, 2006

Mon, 23 Jan 2006 02:21:35 GMT

GO SEAHAWKS

I'm not gonna lie, if there's another team I'd want to see win, It's Seattle. I think a lot of it is because I love that city. Easily my second-favorite American city, after Chicago. I like the way the team's put together too, and I feel that if the Bears got themselves a freakish Samoan defender like Lofi Tatapu or Troy Polamalu, they'd be in the big one right now. But, they're not, and the 'Hawks are my boys. Big ups to Pittsburgh for making the Denver Broncos look like a gang of little girls on tricycles — and, really, tricycles would have moved better than the Broncos' offense. Normally, I wouldn't delight in their loss so much; I haven't adopted them, by any means, but I don't hate them. However, people here in the newsroom were such insufferable pricks to me when the Bears went down — this would be forgivable if the Broncos beat the Bears — that anything that makes people here in Montrose miserable is fine by me.