Governor Sanford and his trip to Argentina?
The late, great Michael Jackson?
Football great Steve McNair?
Thanks to Facebook, I don't have time to update the blog. Not that I am so verbose on Facebook, it's just I only have so much time to type out pithy prose.
The big news in the family isn't that we're moving my dad into supportive living, or the interesting means by which I convinced him to go. The big news is that we're headed back to Disneyworld in November.
Can't get enough of that place.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Friday, May 15, 2009
Here come the 'Hawks, the mighty Blackhawks!
Well, here we are.
The resurrected Chicago Blackhawks will begin their first conference final on Sunday against the hated Detroit Red Wings. I'm not going to labor under any notion that the 'Hawks can win this series. The Wings are the defending champion, their bench is deep, and they are simply an awesome team.
That being said, this is PLAYOFF HOCKEY, where anything can happen, and usually does. Take the fact that the 'Hawks are even here as an example.
Playoff hockey is magical. I find it very difficult to watch on television because I need to see the entire ice to know what is going on. So much of what happens in hockey takes place away from the puck...the matchups, the checking, the strategy. I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat or standing during a televised playoff game trying to ward off the inevitable anxiety attack of not knowing what is happening and then suddenly "HE SHOOTS HE SCORES!!!!" It takes a lot out of me.
The Blackhawks are still owned by the Wirtz family, and since Bill passed away a few years ago, his son, Rocky, has done a great job of running the team. He hired John McDonough (formerly Cub president) as team president, he has reached out to former greats such as Bobby Hull, Stan Mikita and Tony Esposito to become ambassadors for the team, and more importantly, all games, home and away, are televised. Thanks to former 'Hawk player and broadcaster Dale Tallon's drafting and trading acumen, the team is young, fast, and not aware that they are underdogs.
This will be fun.
The resurrected Chicago Blackhawks will begin their first conference final on Sunday against the hated Detroit Red Wings. I'm not going to labor under any notion that the 'Hawks can win this series. The Wings are the defending champion, their bench is deep, and they are simply an awesome team.
That being said, this is PLAYOFF HOCKEY, where anything can happen, and usually does. Take the fact that the 'Hawks are even here as an example.
Playoff hockey is magical. I find it very difficult to watch on television because I need to see the entire ice to know what is going on. So much of what happens in hockey takes place away from the puck...the matchups, the checking, the strategy. I find myself sitting on the edge of my seat or standing during a televised playoff game trying to ward off the inevitable anxiety attack of not knowing what is happening and then suddenly "HE SHOOTS HE SCORES!!!!" It takes a lot out of me.
The Blackhawks are still owned by the Wirtz family, and since Bill passed away a few years ago, his son, Rocky, has done a great job of running the team. He hired John McDonough (formerly Cub president) as team president, he has reached out to former greats such as Bobby Hull, Stan Mikita and Tony Esposito to become ambassadors for the team, and more importantly, all games, home and away, are televised. Thanks to former 'Hawk player and broadcaster Dale Tallon's drafting and trading acumen, the team is young, fast, and not aware that they are underdogs.
This will be fun.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
H1N1
I'm not calling it swine flu. It's H1N1.
I was watching NBC News tonight and learned that Egypt is ordering the slaughter of all hogs, even though the flu is not caused by or transmitted by the presence of hogs, or the eating of hogs.
Lebanon has banned the 'greeting kiss', a popular custom.
And France has banned extra-marital affairs.
I was watching NBC News tonight and learned that Egypt is ordering the slaughter of all hogs, even though the flu is not caused by or transmitted by the presence of hogs, or the eating of hogs.
Lebanon has banned the 'greeting kiss', a popular custom.
And France has banned extra-marital affairs.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Been a long time...
Sorry, I've been working to re-elect our mayor, so I've been sort of busy doing other things. The incumbent won re-election 75% to 25%. Our main strategy was to simply ignore the other guy. I think it worked.
Anyhow, after all this time away, the only thing I can think of to write is that I don't think the 'Madonna falling off a horse' story is a big deal.
A better story would have involved the horse falling off Madonna. Shades of the Catherine the Great legend.
Anyhow, after all this time away, the only thing I can think of to write is that I don't think the 'Madonna falling off a horse' story is a big deal.
A better story would have involved the horse falling off Madonna. Shades of the Catherine the Great legend.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Liar Liar Pants on Fire!
U.S. Sen. Roland Burris has acknowledged he sought to raise campaign funds for then-Gov. Rod Blagojevich at the request of the governor’s brother at the same time he was making a pitch to be appointed to the Senate seat previously held by President Barack Obama.
Latest developments at chicagotribune.com: http://link.chicagotribune.com/r/VKC7L0/X61RL/TUV6VV/KTK0/KEFPFC/28/t
Latest developments at chicagotribune.com: http://link.chicagotribune.com/r/VKC7L0/X61RL/TUV6VV/KTK0/KEFPFC/28/t
Monday, February 09, 2009
Monday, February 02, 2009
New York, New York, it's a hellava town
A month ago, I went on a little adventure.
It has taken a month to reflect on this adventure (well, let's face it, I've been busy trying to oust Governor Blowdryavich from office, and now that I've accomplished that, I can actually post something a little more self-involved).
I flew to Austin on Jan 2 to help our friends, the Plakovic's, move to New York City. Please visit http://plakyinnyc.blogspot.com/ for all the whys and wherefores (which is a redundant turn of phrase, as wherefore means why). Someone refered to this trip as a Mancation, but, then again, they've never taken a cross country trip with James and me.
I arrived in Austin on Friday afternoon, and the Plakovic's treated me to dinner at Chuy's. This is the same Chuy's that the Plakovic's first dined when they picked up stakes some 15 years ago to seek their fame and fortune. We enjoyed dinner very much. James and I then went on a last "Austin" excursion, very brief, which included a visit to a GuitarCenter and a bar.
Here's some advice when shopping for guitars or other musical instruments in Austin. First of all, you must be a professional musician to even pick up an instrument in Austin. If not, then you must at least have a few well-rehearsed licks ready so there is no doubt that you know your way around the instrument you are touching. Anyway we ended up putting a Fender Precision Bass in the car. The car was a Prius, so yes, the bass was paid for.
We then went to some popular restaurant bar, and discovered that, at the ages of 46 and 45, we are getting too damn old. Or cheap. Not sure which.
We were up and at 'em by 6am the next day, and after loading up the truck with a few last items, were lit out for Memphis, the first stop on the magical history tour. Yes, Texas is a large state, but who da thunk Arkansas would be so wide? We hit a minor traffic back-up outside of Memphis, and my handy-dandy GPS unit insisted we take an odd detour just to stay on I-40. It was dark when we reached our hotel, and we're disappointed to find that the nearest chain restaurant (sure we would have loved to eat something indiginous, but one musn't take gastro-chances on the road) was not within walking distance. So we got back in the truck and drove to Ruby Tuesdays. This absolutely guaranteed that there would be no "What happens in Memphis, stays in Memphis" stories.
After dinner, we (I) turned on an NFL playoff game, and we both fell asleep before it was over. Did I mention our mean age is 45.5?
The next day, we were up and at'em around 6am, off to our next stop, Roanoke, VA. It is a good thing that we didn't sample any local cuisine, because James was having a terrible time processing the 'quick service' food we had last night. Thankfully, the monster was defeated by the time we got back into the moving van.
Yes, Arkansas is a wide state. Tennessee, however, is a wide-ass state. I don't mean wide-asses live there, it is a long drive from Memphis to where we turned north to head into Virginia. We stopped for gas, we stopped to pee, gas, pee, gas, pee, for goodness sakes, you'd think I would have wised up and stopped drinking Diet Coke, but damnit, I live life on my own twisted terms.
We crossed into Virginia, and started thinking about the dinner and beer we were going to enjoy in Roanoke. What we did not foresee was that for every mile we drove north, Roanoke would move about 2 miles farther away. Chasing daylight, we didn't stand a chance. But the time we got to Roanoke, the interstate seemed to be 5 feet wide and my field of distance was about 35 feet. Our hotel was new, and located north of Roanoke proper, which meant that for Sunday dinner, we had to climb back into the van and drive a few miles to the TGI Fridays. James was gracious enough to allow me to pick the restaurant, and I hadn't been to a TGI Friday's in a while. There's no doubt in my mind that we were asleep before 10pm, our bellies full and dreaming for the (relatively) short drive to Jersey City the following day.
The next day was full of promise as we breakfasted on 'deluxe continental' fare. We again were on the road early, and we're excited of the prospect of a 6 state day: Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and (by train) New York. All was right with the world, the GPS, the rest areas on the way. We stopped for gas west of Allentown, looking at less than 3 hours to go. As we approached Allentown, however, we encounted a huge back-up (construction related) that lasted about 45 minutes. Undaunted, we got clear of that jam, only to be stuck in hell 10 minutes later. An unknown 'traffic event' had forced the closing for the interstate, and we were stuck for over an hour trying to exit with what seemed to be an endless line of vehicles.
Yes, this was annoying, inasmuch we were hoping for a short, leisurely last day of driving. So I didn't think much of that huge Diet Coke (with two squirts of vanilla flavoring in it) when we stopped to get gas. But that was around 11:30am, and now it was 2:45 pm. I couldn't get off the freeway fast enough, and then try to find someplace, a gas station, a mini-mart, a fast food restaurant, a ditch with a steep slope, anyplace where I could relieve myself. We finally made it to a Wendy's, where, although there wasn't really a space to accomodate the moving van, I overcame adversity and skidded to a halt, running in a limping manner to the washroom.
A quick note about physiology. I've seen Olympic weightlifters, shot-putters, and hammer throwers. They must have the strongest muscles in the world...with the exception of the muscle that holds my urethra closed. When that muscle is forced to stay closed, clamped shut, for an excessively long period of time, one must enter into negotiations in order for it to open. The pain of these negotiations is intense. It just will not open, and open it must. And when it grudgingly opens, only a small amount of urine is allowed to exit. The fire-house intensity that one expects is in reality only a trickle, a painful trickle. When the bladder finally seems empty, you really can't be sure. All sensation is gone, you just don't know if you are empty or not. Maybe I should have turned on a faucet or something to force the issue.
(The cause of the accident, I later learned, was a rolled-over semi. No one was killed in the accident. James and I will be going to hell together due to our constant plea to the lord that someone should have died as a result of our inconvenience)
Back on the road, I was ready to make up for lost time. This would be a good time to discuss the different driving styles that James and I have. James is a safe driver, a good driver, a law-abiding driver. He follows the speed limit, going perhaps a little over if traffic allows. Our safe arrival to NYC is a result, in large part, to his driving skills. My driving skill follows my love of the free market. If a lane is more open than the one I am in, I use it. Speed limits are 'really good suggestions', but lets face it, if there is open road, I'm driving on it. The moving van had a governor that allowed a maximum speed of 75 mph. I know that for a fact. The truck would NOT go any faster. Our safe arrival in NYC was made despite my driving skills. I am proud to say that James wife, Kathy, and I are alike in this regard.
We bounced into New Jersey. Literally bounced. The roads, under construction, were wavy. Thankfully we had our Frosty cups to spit our dental fillings into so they could be re-installed at a later date. We rushed across the Jersey prairie (bet you don't get too many hits Googling "Jersey prairie") and finally made it to Jersey City, our landing point for the day. We checked into a nice hotel, and then ran onto a train to the heart of Manhattan.
This was my first trip to New York City. Sure, I can get around cities like Chicago, Houston, and San Antonio. They are all nice little towns compared to midtown Manhattan. As we walked towards Time Square, early evening turned into noonday sun with the glow of the lights. I'm not sure I can explain the vitality of that area. To this Nebraska son of a son of a farmer, it was one of the most amazing things I've seen. That's not to say I didn't see the bums, the rats, the whores, etc. I saw them, too. Everyone spoke a different language. I saw the famed 'Naked Cowboy'. I walked past the Ed Sullivan Theater. I saw lot of things, including the line of tourists going into Olive Garden for dinner.
We dined at Angelos on 57th Street. Real Italian food. Really good Italian food. I bought a couple of T Shirts for the kids, and we headed back to the hotel in Jersey, knowing we had just one more day of moving ahead of us.
We left the hotel before 5:30 am,, hoping to beat traffic across Manhattan. Driving down Main Street Hoboken, I was magically transformed into Johnny Nyack. Downtown Hoboken is darn quaint, with lots of neat shops, including Sleepy's, where (of course) you would go to buy a mattress. I became Johnny Nyack, seasoned delivery van driver. My language became infected with F-bombs. I used that word as a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, command, suggestion, implication, you name it and I found a use for it. James and I were giddy, and we hadn't even made it to the effin' Lincoln Tunnel yet.
Coming out of the tunnel, we drove across Manhattan, miraculously getting to the Midtown Tunnel without any harm to us, others, or the contents of the truck. Yes, a few wrong turns occurred. Hey, it was dark. We drove under the East River, arriving in Queens. I hummed 'Those Were the Days' (the All in the Family theme) as we headed north, trying to find the bridge that would get us onto Roosevelt Island. Hey, it was dark! Anyway, by 6:30am, we were there. A Starbucks breakfast, a quick tour of the apartment, a stroll down the the grocery store so I could purchase a house-warming gift (a 4-pack of toilet paper - I'm so effin' thoughtful), and before you know it, it was 9 in the morning and we began the task of unloading the truck and moving the Plakovic's belongings into the apartment.
Being experts in ergonomics, James and I quickly divided up the tasks. I would take the items from the truck and cart them to an open hallway area, where James would take them to the elevator and up to the apartment. I think we worked smoothly, glad that it was not raining or snowing or excessively windy. By noon, all that was left to move were the boxes of IKEA furniture. We could see the light at the end of the nicely tiled tunnel. Kathy, Emma and the dog arrived around that time, and spirits were high.
Boxed IKEA furniture is some of the heaviest stuff known to man. That's all I'll say.
By 1:30, we were done. We enjoyed some pizza for lunch around the corner, I especially enjoyed 2 liters of water. We did not take any breaks while unloading, and both James and I were beginning to feel our age (Mean age 45.5, did I mention that?) With the truck empty, we began the 6 mile journey to return it, to the far west side of Manhattan. A little gas, a little more Johnny Nyack, a few more wrong turns (no, it wasn't dark) and ta-effin'-daa, we had the truck to the Penske return lot.
The Penske lot was not located in the most posh of areas. We walked confidently and forthrightly 8 blocks east to a more 'comfortable' neighborhood. We boarded the subway and before you could say "The Effin' King of Prussia", we were back on Roosevelt island.
Although my original flight was cancelled, Kathy (Miss Traveler) made sure I got out of LaGuardia that night. I know we had dinner, but I think I was too exhausted to to notice. Before I knew it, my car had arrived to take me to the airport, and away I went. I was home, in my own bed, by midnight Central Time. Whew!
For James and Kathy (and Emma and Murphy) this is the start of not only a year-long adventure, but also sort of a new life as well. They have no idea where they will be in a year. I find that to be very exciting. I'm even more excited that it is them, not me. Adventure is thrilling, but it is also scary (especially when your Mean age in 45.5) In any event, I was thrilled to be a part of the first stage of the adventure. In a year, I may be back on the road, helping James move the rest of their belongings to a new city.
It has taken a month to reflect on this adventure (well, let's face it, I've been busy trying to oust Governor Blowdryavich from office, and now that I've accomplished that, I can actually post something a little more self-involved).
I flew to Austin on Jan 2 to help our friends, the Plakovic's, move to New York City. Please visit http://plakyinnyc.blogspot.com/ for all the whys and wherefores (which is a redundant turn of phrase, as wherefore means why). Someone refered to this trip as a Mancation, but, then again, they've never taken a cross country trip with James and me.
I arrived in Austin on Friday afternoon, and the Plakovic's treated me to dinner at Chuy's. This is the same Chuy's that the Plakovic's first dined when they picked up stakes some 15 years ago to seek their fame and fortune. We enjoyed dinner very much. James and I then went on a last "Austin" excursion, very brief, which included a visit to a GuitarCenter and a bar.
Here's some advice when shopping for guitars or other musical instruments in Austin. First of all, you must be a professional musician to even pick up an instrument in Austin. If not, then you must at least have a few well-rehearsed licks ready so there is no doubt that you know your way around the instrument you are touching. Anyway we ended up putting a Fender Precision Bass in the car. The car was a Prius, so yes, the bass was paid for.
We then went to some popular restaurant bar, and discovered that, at the ages of 46 and 45, we are getting too damn old. Or cheap. Not sure which.
We were up and at 'em by 6am the next day, and after loading up the truck with a few last items, were lit out for Memphis, the first stop on the magical history tour. Yes, Texas is a large state, but who da thunk Arkansas would be so wide? We hit a minor traffic back-up outside of Memphis, and my handy-dandy GPS unit insisted we take an odd detour just to stay on I-40. It was dark when we reached our hotel, and we're disappointed to find that the nearest chain restaurant (sure we would have loved to eat something indiginous, but one musn't take gastro-chances on the road) was not within walking distance. So we got back in the truck and drove to Ruby Tuesdays. This absolutely guaranteed that there would be no "What happens in Memphis, stays in Memphis" stories.
After dinner, we (I) turned on an NFL playoff game, and we both fell asleep before it was over. Did I mention our mean age is 45.5?
The next day, we were up and at'em around 6am, off to our next stop, Roanoke, VA. It is a good thing that we didn't sample any local cuisine, because James was having a terrible time processing the 'quick service' food we had last night. Thankfully, the monster was defeated by the time we got back into the moving van.
Yes, Arkansas is a wide state. Tennessee, however, is a wide-ass state. I don't mean wide-asses live there, it is a long drive from Memphis to where we turned north to head into Virginia. We stopped for gas, we stopped to pee, gas, pee, gas, pee, for goodness sakes, you'd think I would have wised up and stopped drinking Diet Coke, but damnit, I live life on my own twisted terms.
We crossed into Virginia, and started thinking about the dinner and beer we were going to enjoy in Roanoke. What we did not foresee was that for every mile we drove north, Roanoke would move about 2 miles farther away. Chasing daylight, we didn't stand a chance. But the time we got to Roanoke, the interstate seemed to be 5 feet wide and my field of distance was about 35 feet. Our hotel was new, and located north of Roanoke proper, which meant that for Sunday dinner, we had to climb back into the van and drive a few miles to the TGI Fridays. James was gracious enough to allow me to pick the restaurant, and I hadn't been to a TGI Friday's in a while. There's no doubt in my mind that we were asleep before 10pm, our bellies full and dreaming for the (relatively) short drive to Jersey City the following day.
The next day was full of promise as we breakfasted on 'deluxe continental' fare. We again were on the road early, and we're excited of the prospect of a 6 state day: Virginia, West Virginia, Maryland, Pennsylvania, New Jersey and (by train) New York. All was right with the world, the GPS, the rest areas on the way. We stopped for gas west of Allentown, looking at less than 3 hours to go. As we approached Allentown, however, we encounted a huge back-up (construction related) that lasted about 45 minutes. Undaunted, we got clear of that jam, only to be stuck in hell 10 minutes later. An unknown 'traffic event' had forced the closing for the interstate, and we were stuck for over an hour trying to exit with what seemed to be an endless line of vehicles.
Yes, this was annoying, inasmuch we were hoping for a short, leisurely last day of driving. So I didn't think much of that huge Diet Coke (with two squirts of vanilla flavoring in it) when we stopped to get gas. But that was around 11:30am, and now it was 2:45 pm. I couldn't get off the freeway fast enough, and then try to find someplace, a gas station, a mini-mart, a fast food restaurant, a ditch with a steep slope, anyplace where I could relieve myself. We finally made it to a Wendy's, where, although there wasn't really a space to accomodate the moving van, I overcame adversity and skidded to a halt, running in a limping manner to the washroom.
A quick note about physiology. I've seen Olympic weightlifters, shot-putters, and hammer throwers. They must have the strongest muscles in the world...with the exception of the muscle that holds my urethra closed. When that muscle is forced to stay closed, clamped shut, for an excessively long period of time, one must enter into negotiations in order for it to open. The pain of these negotiations is intense. It just will not open, and open it must. And when it grudgingly opens, only a small amount of urine is allowed to exit. The fire-house intensity that one expects is in reality only a trickle, a painful trickle. When the bladder finally seems empty, you really can't be sure. All sensation is gone, you just don't know if you are empty or not. Maybe I should have turned on a faucet or something to force the issue.
(The cause of the accident, I later learned, was a rolled-over semi. No one was killed in the accident. James and I will be going to hell together due to our constant plea to the lord that someone should have died as a result of our inconvenience)
Back on the road, I was ready to make up for lost time. This would be a good time to discuss the different driving styles that James and I have. James is a safe driver, a good driver, a law-abiding driver. He follows the speed limit, going perhaps a little over if traffic allows. Our safe arrival to NYC is a result, in large part, to his driving skills. My driving skill follows my love of the free market. If a lane is more open than the one I am in, I use it. Speed limits are 'really good suggestions', but lets face it, if there is open road, I'm driving on it. The moving van had a governor that allowed a maximum speed of 75 mph. I know that for a fact. The truck would NOT go any faster. Our safe arrival in NYC was made despite my driving skills. I am proud to say that James wife, Kathy, and I are alike in this regard.
We bounced into New Jersey. Literally bounced. The roads, under construction, were wavy. Thankfully we had our Frosty cups to spit our dental fillings into so they could be re-installed at a later date. We rushed across the Jersey prairie (bet you don't get too many hits Googling "Jersey prairie") and finally made it to Jersey City, our landing point for the day. We checked into a nice hotel, and then ran onto a train to the heart of Manhattan.
This was my first trip to New York City. Sure, I can get around cities like Chicago, Houston, and San Antonio. They are all nice little towns compared to midtown Manhattan. As we walked towards Time Square, early evening turned into noonday sun with the glow of the lights. I'm not sure I can explain the vitality of that area. To this Nebraska son of a son of a farmer, it was one of the most amazing things I've seen. That's not to say I didn't see the bums, the rats, the whores, etc. I saw them, too. Everyone spoke a different language. I saw the famed 'Naked Cowboy'. I walked past the Ed Sullivan Theater. I saw lot of things, including the line of tourists going into Olive Garden for dinner.
We dined at Angelos on 57th Street. Real Italian food. Really good Italian food. I bought a couple of T Shirts for the kids, and we headed back to the hotel in Jersey, knowing we had just one more day of moving ahead of us.
We left the hotel before 5:30 am,, hoping to beat traffic across Manhattan. Driving down Main Street Hoboken, I was magically transformed into Johnny Nyack. Downtown Hoboken is darn quaint, with lots of neat shops, including Sleepy's, where (of course) you would go to buy a mattress. I became Johnny Nyack, seasoned delivery van driver. My language became infected with F-bombs. I used that word as a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, command, suggestion, implication, you name it and I found a use for it. James and I were giddy, and we hadn't even made it to the effin' Lincoln Tunnel yet.
Coming out of the tunnel, we drove across Manhattan, miraculously getting to the Midtown Tunnel without any harm to us, others, or the contents of the truck. Yes, a few wrong turns occurred. Hey, it was dark. We drove under the East River, arriving in Queens. I hummed 'Those Were the Days' (the All in the Family theme) as we headed north, trying to find the bridge that would get us onto Roosevelt Island. Hey, it was dark! Anyway, by 6:30am, we were there. A Starbucks breakfast, a quick tour of the apartment, a stroll down the the grocery store so I could purchase a house-warming gift (a 4-pack of toilet paper - I'm so effin' thoughtful), and before you know it, it was 9 in the morning and we began the task of unloading the truck and moving the Plakovic's belongings into the apartment.
Being experts in ergonomics, James and I quickly divided up the tasks. I would take the items from the truck and cart them to an open hallway area, where James would take them to the elevator and up to the apartment. I think we worked smoothly, glad that it was not raining or snowing or excessively windy. By noon, all that was left to move were the boxes of IKEA furniture. We could see the light at the end of the nicely tiled tunnel. Kathy, Emma and the dog arrived around that time, and spirits were high.
Boxed IKEA furniture is some of the heaviest stuff known to man. That's all I'll say.
By 1:30, we were done. We enjoyed some pizza for lunch around the corner, I especially enjoyed 2 liters of water. We did not take any breaks while unloading, and both James and I were beginning to feel our age (Mean age 45.5, did I mention that?) With the truck empty, we began the 6 mile journey to return it, to the far west side of Manhattan. A little gas, a little more Johnny Nyack, a few more wrong turns (no, it wasn't dark) and ta-effin'-daa, we had the truck to the Penske return lot.
The Penske lot was not located in the most posh of areas. We walked confidently and forthrightly 8 blocks east to a more 'comfortable' neighborhood. We boarded the subway and before you could say "The Effin' King of Prussia", we were back on Roosevelt island.
Although my original flight was cancelled, Kathy (Miss Traveler) made sure I got out of LaGuardia that night. I know we had dinner, but I think I was too exhausted to to notice. Before I knew it, my car had arrived to take me to the airport, and away I went. I was home, in my own bed, by midnight Central Time. Whew!
For James and Kathy (and Emma and Murphy) this is the start of not only a year-long adventure, but also sort of a new life as well. They have no idea where they will be in a year. I find that to be very exciting. I'm even more excited that it is them, not me. Adventure is thrilling, but it is also scary (especially when your Mean age in 45.5) In any event, I was thrilled to be a part of the first stage of the adventure. In a year, I may be back on the road, helping James move the rest of their belongings to a new city.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Blowdryavich : The End of an Era
I apologize for the confusion that our former governor has caused. He did get a fair trail, and now he is gone.
Yes, I imagine my taxes will go up, and they need to...we can't keep stealing from the state pension fund to balance the budget anymore, can we?
Yes, I imagine my taxes will go up, and they need to...we can't keep stealing from the state pension fund to balance the budget anymore, can we?
Monday, January 19, 2009
Change
Be sure to watch history tomorrow.
Even if you didn't vote for him, it is still a very big day for America.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Perhaps a retraction, or a clarification
In my last post, I alluded that Senator-select Roland Burris may not be an honest politician anymore. I probably meant that yesterday, but after hearing him run the gauntlet of news shows today, I have a more informed opinion.
Roland Burris is probably the best candidate to be selected (but not elected) as the next junior senator from Illinois.
The problem I have with him is that his goody-two-shoes explanation for wanting to be senator reminded all of us why he couldn't get elected as governor or senator in the past.
I'm all for unbridled optimism, however, at this juncture, a little bit of realism from whoever the next senator is would be appreciated. We're tired of being spoken to as if we all are idiots.
Sure, I know Blowdryavich was elected twice.
Roland Burris is probably the best candidate to be selected (but not elected) as the next junior senator from Illinois.
The problem I have with him is that his goody-two-shoes explanation for wanting to be senator reminded all of us why he couldn't get elected as governor or senator in the past.
I'm all for unbridled optimism, however, at this juncture, a little bit of realism from whoever the next senator is would be appreciated. We're tired of being spoken to as if we all are idiots.
Sure, I know Blowdryavich was elected twice.
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
All Hail Our New Senator-select
Governor Blowdryavich, still living in his own special world of denial, named elder statesman Illinois politician Roland Burris as his 'senator-select'.
Roland Burris quickly leapt to Blowdryavich's defense, claiming the charges pending against the governor were 'false, untrue, and very unfriendly'.
No word yet if in fact Burris read the arrest warrant that pretty much tells you what you need to know about Blowdryavich.
Burris may have been a honest politician up to today, but the real reason he was selected was because he is one of the few politicians who are shorter in stature than the governor.
photo stolen from the Chicago Tribune website.
(I think I can take credit for 'Blowdryavich', it's less mean-spirited than "Blowdryabitch')
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Post Christmas outlook
We had a nice, white Christmas here in northern Illinois, and now comes a warm front which has melted the 8 inches of snow in just 24 hours. Flash floods and fog for the next week or so. Hopefully they can keep the ice cold at Wrigley Field, where the Blackhawks will take on the much hated Redwings on New Years Day.
I drove up to see my Dad and drop off his Christmas present and go over his new budget. He finally got his Section 8 approval, which should solve the month to month finances, and help set up a nest-egg for the inevitable doctor bills and car repairs. Despite my day to day management of his finances, I've only seen him three times in 2008, last January, in October for his mother's funeral, and today.
Yes, I know I should visit more often. And yes, he should visit us more, too.
I went over the budget with him, encouraging him to try to follow it while trying to live comfortably as well. If we can build up the reserve fund in the next year, then he can then have more to spend and enjoy. I don't want him to live monastically, just responsibly. As always, we'll see how that goes.
My father doesn't seem to want a lot of interaction with me or my family, and I've sort of grown tired trying to push the relationship. I'm 46, I have a nice family. We care about my dad, but his interest doesn't extend much past the basic pleasentries. Perhaps he feels that I caused all the turmoil in his life by yanking him from squalor in Indiana 2 years ago and compelling him to face the music about his health and debts. It had to be done, and I guess I was the best suited to do so. No one else in my family, God love them, is as much of a hard-ass as me, a skill I learned from the old man himself. Go figure.
Sure makes me miss my mother.
I drove up to see my Dad and drop off his Christmas present and go over his new budget. He finally got his Section 8 approval, which should solve the month to month finances, and help set up a nest-egg for the inevitable doctor bills and car repairs. Despite my day to day management of his finances, I've only seen him three times in 2008, last January, in October for his mother's funeral, and today.
Yes, I know I should visit more often. And yes, he should visit us more, too.
I went over the budget with him, encouraging him to try to follow it while trying to live comfortably as well. If we can build up the reserve fund in the next year, then he can then have more to spend and enjoy. I don't want him to live monastically, just responsibly. As always, we'll see how that goes.
My father doesn't seem to want a lot of interaction with me or my family, and I've sort of grown tired trying to push the relationship. I'm 46, I have a nice family. We care about my dad, but his interest doesn't extend much past the basic pleasentries. Perhaps he feels that I caused all the turmoil in his life by yanking him from squalor in Indiana 2 years ago and compelling him to face the music about his health and debts. It had to be done, and I guess I was the best suited to do so. No one else in my family, God love them, is as much of a hard-ass as me, a skill I learned from the old man himself. Go figure.
Sure makes me miss my mother.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Snow starts the day
Lots of snow last night and today. I don't know how many inches, I just know that my back is killing me from all the shoveling.
Just 10 minutes ago, however, I finally got my snowthrower to run. Thanks to neighbor Steve, who talked me through several diagnoses and after a lot of mental mechanics, I was able to clear the foot of my driveway in minutes.
Long story short: my fuel problem was caused by a cracked primer bulb.
My Toro is about 15 years old, and when running, can handle just about any depth of snow.
I'll be lugging it over to Steve's driveway every chance I get this winter. I owe him that.
(When you are 46 years old, things like having an operational snowthrower is almost better than sex. Almost.)
Just 10 minutes ago, however, I finally got my snowthrower to run. Thanks to neighbor Steve, who talked me through several diagnoses and after a lot of mental mechanics, I was able to clear the foot of my driveway in minutes.
Long story short: my fuel problem was caused by a cracked primer bulb.
My Toro is about 15 years old, and when running, can handle just about any depth of snow.
I'll be lugging it over to Steve's driveway every chance I get this winter. I owe him that.
(When you are 46 years old, things like having an operational snowthrower is almost better than sex. Almost.)
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Same old legislature
The Illinois legislature is taking their sweet time to impeach Blagojevich. They listened to the governor's mob attorney today demand to listen to the tapes. At least they had the guts to remind the attorney that the impeachment hearings were not a criminal court proceeding, and they would appreciate it if his client would show up in Springfield to offer testimony.
Fat chance of that since the sonovabitch won't go to Springfield to govern.
Come and get me Rod! I'll kick your ass and shave your head!
Prick.
Fat chance of that since the sonovabitch won't go to Springfield to govern.
Come and get me Rod! I'll kick your ass and shave your head!
Prick.
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Blago-you-bitch
Yes, I'm surprised that it's taken me 2 days to opine on our asshole governor's arrest and indictment.
I knew this guy was a crook. After reading all 78 pages of the indictment, I do have to say that he exceeded my wildest dreams as a crook, however. It is hubris on steroids. It is beyond the pale. It is simply amazing. There is no way he is going to beat these charges.
And now, it all makes sense. The commitment to the bad hair. His refusal to live in Springfield. His MO of trying to pick fights, and then when losing, pretend they didn't happen. Is there enough jail time to change his attitude?
I would always give his wife a pass because I know that as a real estate agent, you
need to rely on relationships in order to do business. However, I now know she is simply Dick Mell's daughter. And that isn't a slight on Dick Mell, he is a career politician, a Chicago alderman, and he conducts business as it is done in Chicago. However, I guess I let my oogling of Patty Blagojevich cloud my judgement.
Oh well, it will be interesting to see what happens next. Blago is too deluded to resign right away. He may still try to appoint a senator.
The drama continues.
I knew this guy was a crook. After reading all 78 pages of the indictment, I do have to say that he exceeded my wildest dreams as a crook, however. It is hubris on steroids. It is beyond the pale. It is simply amazing. There is no way he is going to beat these charges.
And now, it all makes sense. The commitment to the bad hair. His refusal to live in Springfield. His MO of trying to pick fights, and then when losing, pretend they didn't happen. Is there enough jail time to change his attitude?
I would always give his wife a pass because I know that as a real estate agent, you
need to rely on relationships in order to do business. However, I now know she is simply Dick Mell's daughter. And that isn't a slight on Dick Mell, he is a career politician, a Chicago alderman, and he conducts business as it is done in Chicago. However, I guess I let my oogling of Patty Blagojevich cloud my judgement. Oh well, it will be interesting to see what happens next. Blago is too deluded to resign right away. He may still try to appoint a senator.
The drama continues.
Saturday, November 29, 2008
After 31 years...
I've always been a big Jackson Browne fan, starting when I was 14 and Running on Empty was released. It was one of the first albums I bought when I started buying albums with my own money.
For all you youngsters out there, it was recorded live in venues from concert halls to hotel rooms to the tour bus. At a time when live albums featured re-hashed greatest hits with mistakes overdubbed in the studio, Running on Empty was unique in that all the songs were new and recorded 'as-is'. The one thing about Jackson Browne live is that the musicianship is top-rate...sometimes too perfect, inasmuch as no one seems to make a mistake onstage. Not a bad thing, really, just outside the norm.
Anyway, this tour would have been at the time The Pretender was out, and for Jackson Browne, this would have been a challenging time in his life. Go to Wikipedia to learn why, I'm not a very good biographer.
The opening track, of course, is Running on Empty, and the first 30 seconds or so consists of various shouts from the audience, which, when I was a teenager, meant nothing to me, it was just a bunch of rowdy fans making noise.
At my advanced age, listening now, I realize the shouts were requests for songs such as Ready or Not, Late for the Sky, and Redneck Friend. You can hear an eight count leading up to the song that was in fact performed.
Also at my advanced age, I think about those people at the concert, yelling for their favorite song, and then POW! Running on Empty, the version you hear on the radio, with the great David Lindley lap steel solo and the Danny Kortchmar guitar fills and the beautiful soaring harmony of Rosemary Butler (I had a serious Rosemary Butler obsession in 1980) and of course the message of the song, the ever searching, longing, to find what it is we needed to find ourselves. If the audience only knew. Were they disappointed? Don't know.
Looking around for the friends I used to turn to to pull me through, looking into their eyes, I see them running, too.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Remorse, optional
When asked if there were anything George Ryan would change, Lura Lynn Ryan said neither she nor her husband has any regrets. "His conscience is as clear as his mind," she said. "If he had it to do over -- and I've heard him say this -- he would govern the same way as he did before.... Sun-Times story today
There were stories in both Chicago papers today regarding the possibility that President Bush may commute the sentence of former Illinois Governor George Ryan, who is in jail on a racketeering conviction.
A thumbnail: While Secretary of State (among other things, in charge of granting drivers licenses) Ryan either implemented or ignored the program to sell commercial driver's licenses. One such beneficiary ended up instigating that burned six children to death in a highway accident.
Ryan, obviously, to this day believes he did nothing wrong because he never 'took the money', channeling it to cronies, who in turn, would do really nice things for Ryan and his family.
He is a really old man, his wife is not in the best health, he has lost his government pension, and has ruined his name. Maybe serving one year of his six-year sentence is justice enough.
But if he can't feel any remorse, then perhaps he needs to rot a little more.
There were stories in both Chicago papers today regarding the possibility that President Bush may commute the sentence of former Illinois Governor George Ryan, who is in jail on a racketeering conviction.
A thumbnail: While Secretary of State (among other things, in charge of granting drivers licenses) Ryan either implemented or ignored the program to sell commercial driver's licenses. One such beneficiary ended up instigating that burned six children to death in a highway accident.
Ryan, obviously, to this day believes he did nothing wrong because he never 'took the money', channeling it to cronies, who in turn, would do really nice things for Ryan and his family.
He is a really old man, his wife is not in the best health, he has lost his government pension, and has ruined his name. Maybe serving one year of his six-year sentence is justice enough.
But if he can't feel any remorse, then perhaps he needs to rot a little more.
Thursday, November 13, 2008
After a one week cooling off period...
Well, congratulations to President-Elect Obama. History has been made, and we will be watching it unfold for the next 4-8 years.
Now that the election is over, our nation needs to keep on keeping on. The sky has not fallen, despite what my republican brethren say, and I don't think we're headed for the socialist revolution.
I don't know the last time Warren Buffett was wrong about something, and if he isn't afraid, then why should I be afraid?
The McCain campaign hacks who persuaded him to pick Palin are now trying to throw mud at her. What you see is what you get, folks. She was not the best choice, and I've spoken to a lot of conservatives that saw through her act and were very afraid of the prospect of another dolt leading our nation.
My pain is with the neo-cons (Rush Limbaugh included) who will not rest until Obama is killed. Hate is hate.
I'm against hate.
If President Obama turns out to be a stinker, we have the 2010 and 2012 elections to rectify the problem. Martyring a president is a sure why to ensure his programs (especially the offensive ones) get passed.
This is America, we should give President Obama a chance. We gave President Bush a chance, and how bad was that?
I retract the question.
Now that the election is over, our nation needs to keep on keeping on. The sky has not fallen, despite what my republican brethren say, and I don't think we're headed for the socialist revolution.
I don't know the last time Warren Buffett was wrong about something, and if he isn't afraid, then why should I be afraid?
The McCain campaign hacks who persuaded him to pick Palin are now trying to throw mud at her. What you see is what you get, folks. She was not the best choice, and I've spoken to a lot of conservatives that saw through her act and were very afraid of the prospect of another dolt leading our nation.
My pain is with the neo-cons (Rush Limbaugh included) who will not rest until Obama is killed. Hate is hate.
I'm against hate.
If President Obama turns out to be a stinker, we have the 2010 and 2012 elections to rectify the problem. Martyring a president is a sure why to ensure his programs (especially the offensive ones) get passed.
This is America, we should give President Obama a chance. We gave President Bush a chance, and how bad was that?
I retract the question.
Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Election Day 2008
Wow, here we are at last.
What ever happened to my fellow well-informed Republican voters?
I guess there were no issues that interested mainstream Republican voters this year. Instead of arguing the merits of McCain's position on the economy, security, energy, etc, all I seem to hear from my fellow Republicans is how Barack Husein Obama is going to have abortions performed on every pregnant woman in the country, take money away from (white) poverty-stricken pensioners and give it to (black) welfare mothers, and mandate the teaching of Arabic in our schools.
Keep in mind, I'm a Reagan Republican, and this rhetoric offends me.
I've always thought that fear-mongering was for the losers, and I guess I'm right about that this year.
McCain-Palin will go down in flames, and our country will have new challenges to face and overcome.
It is time to re-think how we elect our leaders. Money outstrips the message. Fear outweighs fact. The loudest voices are heard over the smartest voices.
I'll miss Tina Fey. We'll I can always watch her on 30 Rock, I guess, but she has never been more brilliantly funny than as Sarah Palin.
And four years from now, if Sarah Palin is more than trivia, I'll vomit.
What ever happened to my fellow well-informed Republican voters?
I guess there were no issues that interested mainstream Republican voters this year. Instead of arguing the merits of McCain's position on the economy, security, energy, etc, all I seem to hear from my fellow Republicans is how Barack Husein Obama is going to have abortions performed on every pregnant woman in the country, take money away from (white) poverty-stricken pensioners and give it to (black) welfare mothers, and mandate the teaching of Arabic in our schools.
Keep in mind, I'm a Reagan Republican, and this rhetoric offends me.
I've always thought that fear-mongering was for the losers, and I guess I'm right about that this year.
McCain-Palin will go down in flames, and our country will have new challenges to face and overcome.
It is time to re-think how we elect our leaders. Money outstrips the message. Fear outweighs fact. The loudest voices are heard over the smartest voices.
I'll miss Tina Fey. We'll I can always watch her on 30 Rock, I guess, but she has never been more brilliantly funny than as Sarah Palin.
And four years from now, if Sarah Palin is more than trivia, I'll vomit.
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