One of the traditions I miss from back home was our annual Super Bowl party. My buddies and I started the tradition back in the late 70's when the Cowboys lost to the Steelers in Super Bowl XIII. We had that first party at Dave's (H) apartment in Pawtucket. The following year the gang went to a Knights of Columbus hall. Since then the party circulated from person to person in our homes.
At the height we had six guys in the rotation .... Don, Paul, Ski, Dave R, Tom, and Dave H. Depending on living arrangements we would host the party every 4 to 6 years. It started with a bunch of single guys, a keg of beer and cold cut sandwiches. Girlfriends entered and exited. Some became wives. By the time we reached Super Bowl XX there was a pack of rug rats in baby walkers crashing into our shins.
On that day Dave H, hosting his third party, was fed up with the noisy activity distracting us from the game. Before any man could dissuade him from making a proclamation that would draw the scorn of the womanfolk, Dave ran his mouth. "This is bullshit. If your not watching the game go in the other room. Next year we're having a guys only party!" Needless to say the motion to have a men's party was not received well by the young wives club. No man would second the motion. We left Dave to the pack of she-wolves tearing him apart in a vicious verbal attack.
Some of us even jokingly joined in, "Dave. How can you be such an asshole? What do you want them to do, cook for us and leave with the babies?" Secretly we all thought Dave had a fantastic idea. We just weren't foolish enough to say so in front of the women and children.
Like all Super Bowl parties, food became as important as the game. We had a pot-luck buffet with each family bringing dishes. The host would coordinate the menu in the week leading up to the game to insure no duplicates. Ski usually made a Polish dish, Dave H often made wings, Tom made Italian, someone had to bring cilli. I sometimes made French meat pies. The host would make a few items to fill in the menu gaps, appetizers, dessert, etc.
Beer was always invited to the party. Paul and Ski were home brewers. They would offer their latest concoction when they hosted. There was never a shortage of spirits at the gig.
Poker was our pre game show. I was the bookie, running the pools and holding the bets that made the game more interesting. I hosted the SB party for games XVIII, XXI, XXV, XXX and XXXVI. My last party would be the final roman numeral with my oldest and dearest friends. We moved to Arizona in 2002. Tom moved to Tucson three years prior.
As years passed some of the regulars would skip a party because there was snow, the drive was too far, maybe a kid was sick at home ....... or they had better plans. If you had a lame excuse the hearty traditionalists would call you on the phone during the game for a group tirade. I never missed a party over that 24 year span. I could not have my friends talking trash behind my back on gameday.
Since I left Rhode Island the annual Super Bowl party has died a slow death. There have been some parties but fewer attend. Some have abandoned the tradition entirely. I have often called the host during the game to say 'hello' to those keeping the tradition alive. Today I sadly report there will be no party. None of the old gang are watching the game together.
An era has passed.
I've been invited to parties here in AZ but I decline. I have come to appreciate seeing the game with no distractions. Kid's are not crying, wives are not chatting over the television, no one is stealing my chair. Today's menu starts with home made tortilla chips and salsa, bacon wrapped scallops. I'll have chicken wings and baby back ribs slow cooking on my smoker. They'll be accompanied by roasted potatoes, baked beans and home baked bread. I'll be drinking Sierra Nevada Pale Ale.
It will be a nice gameday but I would gladly trade my quiet game at home to hang out with my old friends. Most of them have this blog address. I wish them all a happy Super Bowl Sunday ............ and you're all a bunch of bastards for letting tradition die.
Geaux Saints!
I have a modest collection of a guy thing. I'm not much of a knick knack person. I don't collect things. I'm a purger. But I love pint glasses. I have a couple of dozen pint glasses of many breweries. They're not displayed but I use them often. I never drink beer from a bottle .... ever. I have frosted pint glasses in my freezer 60/60/24/7/365.
Help me Mr. Wizard!
I have some concerns about the first Muslim space mission. We must assume the turtles and mouse are Muslim. I doubt an Islamic theocracy would permit infidels in their top secret space program. The faith of the worms doesn't matter. They're just worms.
Were the animals carrying tiny copies of the Koran tucked under their little arms? Did Ahmadinejad's rocket scientists provide a carpet to pray on five times per day? How will they know what direction Mecca is when they bow in prayer? These are important questions because when Tehran get's around to sending men into orbit.... (I suspect there will be no burkas in space) ....these vital Islamic issues must be addressed. Space travel is no excuse for shirking on your responsibilities to Allah.
After the big event Iranian President, a.k.a. Mr. Wizard, proudly stated, “The scientific arena is where we defeat the West’s domination.” Alrightythen.
The key to a successful space program is bringing the turtlenauts (I don't know what else to call a space turtle) back to earth in one piece, alive and well. I hope the little guys make it back. I don't believe Mahmoud the great humanitarian wants the death of two reptiles and one rodent on his conscience. If these creatures were launched into martyrdom will they get 72 virgins or is that perk just for men?
Also in the news, two guys in Turkmenistan tied a lizard to a rock and fired it into the air with a big slingshot.
You have to start somewhere.
If you've ever seen the cable program where Americans recount their ordeals in foreign prisons you might have the same reaction I had. "What the fuck were you thinking? In the few episodes I've seen the now mature adult tells the tale of how they were duped or forced into moving drugs or some other contraband. I can't speak for everyone, but I know smuggling hashish out of Turkey is risky business. If I get caught there will be no, "You have the right to remain silent", or the guarantee of one phone call. Westerners don't seem to understand we don't have the same rights we have at home when we're busted in less liberal nations.
We have three American hikers in Iran, caught after they crossed the Iraq-Iran border on an ill fated trek. It was probably a navigational mistake. Damn Garmin! They've been held for six months without due process.
Samantha Orebator, a British citizen, was sentenced to death in Laos for trying to smuggle heroin. Her sentence was reduced to life in prison because she became pregnant on death row. I wonder who the baby daddy is?
Amanda Knox, an American exchange student in Italy, was sentenced to 26 years in prison for the murder of her roommate. She was detained more than a year without bail. It was an open and shut case. At least the Euro media thought so. The evidence was damning.
A British citizen, Akmal Shaikh was arrested in Beijing in 2007 and found guilty of smuggling. To the dismay of his family, no mental health evaluation was done while he sat in a Chinese prison. Shaikh is mentally ill. I should say he WAS mentally ill. Akmal was executed by lethal injection for smuggling heroin.
Last year two female journalists thought it wise to sneak across the border from China into North Korea. Bill Clinton rescued the women from the evil grip of Kim Jong Il. It seems some Americans travel abroad with complete ignorance, or disregard, of the legal consequences should they find trouble.
The Baptist missionaries are a particularly odd group. When first questioned by Haitian authorities they answered every query with bible scripture unrelated to the incident. Yup, that'll work. Tell them God in on your side. As the facts began to emerge we learned some of the children were not orphans. They cried for their mommas. Later it was revealed the parents of some gave them up when promised a better future for their children. I don't know what they were assured but we do know where the bible thumping saviors were going, the Dominican Republic.
The Island of Hispaniola is poor regardless of what side of the border you're on. If you're promising a better future I have to assume the D.R. is not the final destination for these kids. The good Christians from Idaho have more explaining to do. What was the ultimate end game of this operation? Is any part of their scheme legal in Haiti or the United States?
The fact they had no legal documents for the children and attempted to secretly cross an international border is damning enough for me. I believe they should be charged with the crimes they committed. I also don't believe our government should be negotiating for the release of foolish Americans after they've committed crimes in foreign lands. If the Baptist missionaries were on a 'Mission from God', they should ask him for help in getting them released. Good luck with that.
Friday night was an occasion. We dined at the Arizona American-Italian Club. I know what people on the coasts are thinking. Big deal, we have ethnic clubs in every town. I fondly remember the clubs back home. In AZ we don't have so many ethic neighborhoods and clubs of heritage. I had not been in a club like this since moving west.
Back home there were clubs in every town for various ethnicities. The Lusitania Club and Madera Club were rival Portuguese establishments less than a mile apart but in different towns. The Knights of Columbus was the choice of many Italian and Irish Catholics. We could get cheap beer and eats at The Polish Home. The German Haus had better beer and good sausage. The Madera Club had a great Friday fried seafood deal. They probably still do. In the Providence area there's no shortage of Italian social clubs.
Not all social clubs are ethnic. They can be built on any association or interest, religious, political, sporting, business. They may be lodges named for Elks, Lions or some other species. The Masons are everywhere. Unlike many social clubs, The Rotary Club does not discriminate. Regardless of what association they have, these clubs are similar in many ways.
I have always preferred the ethnic club. The first thing I noticed different about the club we dined in Friday was the fact American came before the hyphen. I have only been to Italian-American clubs.
After getting over the hyphen thing, nothing else was different. There were many Cadillacs and Buicks in the parking lot. Before we entered I had to check out the Bocce courts where old men tossed the pallino. There was a bingo game going on in one hall. The moment I stepped into the main dining area and bar I imagined 10,000 wedding receptions and anniversary parties have occured here. Who hasn't been to a party at a blue collar social club?
Clubs often have a unique smell. It's the smell of tradition and oldness. I don't know if it was the aged people, the building, the decor, the old school values, or the combined antiquity of everything. I hoped it wasn't the beer. It may have been the remains of thousands of spilled drinks in the circa 1975 carpeting.
My biggest fear in a club like this is what beers they'll have on tap. They rarely have quality you don't expect. Every bar has the same taps, Bud, Miller, or some cheap local pisswater. When we first arrived we could not get served at the bar. We were guests of a member but he was not there to vouch for us. Without his nod we could only wait.
Our host enjoyed my Italian jokes. Under the influence we scanned the crowd giving the goomba members Mafia nicknames.
"Tony Two Fingers."
"Why two fingers?'
"He uses two fingers to pull the trigger when you get two in the hat."
"Why?"
"He has a big gun."
"That guy over there, he's Vinnie No Neck. The pisanes he's talking to are Guido The Gimp and Bobby Bag-o-Donuts."
I was one of the younger people in the crowd. This is another common thread with the clubs back home. Once the kids are old enough to not come here with momma and papa, they don't. This is a family club. There were some little kids with parents. There were very few teens or twenty-somethings. This is not the place for young adults on a Friday night in Phoenix.
Some of the older women were on their fashion 'A' game, decked out for a Friday night at the club. I don't know what's sadder, a 40-something dressing to look 20, or a 60-something dressing to look 40. Some of these ladies dressed like they were walking the red carpet.
It was a fun place to be for one evening. The American-Italian club reminded me of the places and people back home. The fish fry and memories were good.
I have always felt our news outlets have a slant that attracts like minded people? I believe people seek bias in their news. I've blogged this opinion before.
I read the same news on multiple websites to compare content and tone. Is FoxNews biased to the right? You betcha. In CNN left leaning? Absolutely. When they decide what stories and issues to report they tell us what they feel is important. If you look at both websites every day the differences in their reporting is obvious.
I also participate in polls related to the same political topics to see if the news sites get the same results. I have seen wildly different poll results in the past. This evening I saw one of the largest poll discrepancies ever.
FoxNews readers disapproved of the President's State of the Union address by a wide margin of 73 to 22% with 4% saying it was fair. The same CNN poll had 64% percent approving with 26% unhappy with Obama's speech. 10% thought it was fair.
Simple math tells me the people using CNN and Fox could not be further apart in their opinions of our president and his agenda. To go from a negative 73 to postive 64 requires an enormous swing of votes. These are not like minded people. Conservatives read Fox, liberals read CNN and the networks cater to these partisan news customers.
It's not news to me. I watch for bias in the news, slanted reporting, under and over reporting of issues. The media is a pet peeve of mine. The media is no longer reporters of the facts, and just the facts. The major news outlets are for profit companies tailoring their news and opinion to audience.
This makes me sick to my stomach.
I did not watch the address live. I'm currently watching and listening to the replay as I type. I give the speech a positive grade but the cynic in me knows Mr. Obama has a snowball's chance in hell of getting the GOP on board. The stone faced Republicans in the audience needn't rebut the address. Their faces say it all.
If you did the math, and I know you didn't, you might notice the Fox poll did not add up to 100%. Foxnews had a fourth choice in their poll. One percent of the people selected "I don't know" as their response to the speech. Go figure.
1/26/10..... Our dog sleeping on the couch is no reason for alarm. This may be his greatest skill.
Every so often there will be a sleeping pooch pose. We quietly grab the camera. If he sees us move the pointy Boxer ears twitch into radar mode. Should he open his eyes and lift his heavy head, the candid canine photo op is lost.
These spontaneous Michelangleo moments are left on the camera for weeks. Some of these dog lounging pics are months old. Eventually they get uploaded to my laptop. I look at them but never post about my dog's liquidity.
Mikey can fit in any crack, on a chair, in the sectional, between people or pillows. You think you've positioned yourself in a manner that blocks him from encroaching on your evening perch. Guess again. His considerable body is liquid conforming to the surrounding surfaces.
If you think sitting in our genuine faux micro-fiber leather recliner will leave him no room to invade your personal space. You are a naive. We have a 76 pound lap dog.
Michelangelo has almost super-canine powers. He can curl up into a ball no bigger than a cat. A really big fucking cat...... with personality.
On Christmas Day we were packing for our holiday travels. Mikey sensed we were going somewhere and decided to jump in. Only half the gifts were packed. There would be no room.
Our domesticated dog is the master of his domain. He adapts to whatever we're doing at what time we're doing it. He's goes to bed when the last person in the house has retired, no sooner. The life of a dog is one long nap interrupted occasionally by human activity.
Someday soon I will link another YouTube video of Mike. You will hear his voice loud and clear. There's no sense in taking videos of the leather sectional action. Once he occupies the couch there is only still art.
I recall my extremely brief online dating search. One woman wrote, "I love to eat but I hate to cook. I would love for you to take me to restaurants." I may have broken my mouse button clicking past that profile. Knowing how to cook is good. I wanted to meet someone who loved cooking.
I have weekdays when I come home after a long Monkeytech day and the last thing I want to do is cook a meal. We still do it, one of us always has dinner in-the-works. We don't make much frozen stuff, no prepared box-o-dinner is served here. Tonight was my pasta primavera scampi dish, a staple in this house.
Shrimp, mushrooms, red peppers and asparagus cooked in a wok-ish skillet in butter and garlic. This is served over linguine with finely chopped fresh basil. We had caprese salad ..... sliced tomato, soft mozzarella, red onion and basil leaves with olive oil and pine nuts. I picked up warm baked French bread on the way home.
This is a typical mid-week meal for us. Last night was chicken wings and a fresh made garden salad. Later this week will be grilled NY strip with a baked potatoes/onion dish and steamed veggies.
The weekend is when we cook all day. Breakfast is one of my favorites. Sunday I smoked two racks of ribs, about 4 hours. I'm a dry rub man. I like BBQ sauce just fine but I prefer the spices rubbed and slow cooked into the meat. Cheryl made her potato salad and we opened a can of Bush's beans. Canned food is not common here. I have a history.
When I was a kid the only veggies we had were poured from a can. We were poor. Cans are cheap. They made me gag. I have truamatic memories of soggy green beans, watery beets, flavorless corn and the worst of all .....(insert dramatic music here)..... yellow. wax. beans. I have not eaten a wax bean or sugar beet in more than 37 years. since the day I was old enough to say "Hell NO!" when mom served them. I revolted at age 12.
My mom was not a good cook. She made passable dinners that I later learned were barely so. My dad was a better cook but he only cooked on weekends, not every week. Mom overcooked everything. I hated steak until I had one cooked by someone who knew what they hell they were doing. I hated meatloaf. I detested many foods because of mom's culinary retardation. The day I moved out of my parents home, at age 19, was the last day I had a canned vegetable served at my home.
I quickly learned that I love vegetables. I switched to frozen because it was affordable and durable but there's nothing better then fresh produce. Two things I miss from back home, my vegetable garden and farm stands.
We spend too much on produce, but it's worth every penny.
As brief as dinner may be, it's the one time everyone in the house is assured to sit together and talk. Even if you don't have a deep conversation there's a togetherness at meal time that I have appreciated my entire life ........ even when my mom cooked her infamous shell burgers, hard on the outside, dry in the middle.
Because I was 13, 11 and 9 years older than my sibs, I cooked many meals as the live-in teenage babysitter. I did okay, had a few missteps, but my sibs are still kicking. They were my guinea pigs. I once made them cry with undercooked runny pancakes.
Besides eating delicious meals, my favorite things about cooking are the never ending lessons of experience and the creativity. I try every recipe by the precise measurement and instructions the first time. After that I make it my own with variations and seasoning to suit my taste. Garlic always seems to find it's way into the pan.
I have often intended on writing about cooking, I have taken many pics of set tables like the one below but I never got around to writing the posts. This is a good place to end this. I'll pick up the cook book and write again another day.
Smoked chicken with salad, corn-on-the-cob and fresh bread. (9/20/09) ..... and beer.
The journey may be good, but it's better with good food & spirits.
I've had a very tough time dealing with the single parent feelings I have. I've tried to do everything I can for James even though I know it's far short of what he needs. Life at home can be challenging. Privacy no longer exists. Watching my once successful son languish in a medicated-but-still-delusional state is hard on me. It's damn depressing. The fact his mom is not pitching in does not help my sanity.
For the first ten months his mom has been a weekly date. She might take him out for lunch on a Saturday, a haircut, or shopping to pick up small items he needs. That's about it. We'll get an hour or two break from our 24/7 routine.
The resentment in me was buidling, especially when she had suggestions of what I should do or say to our son. She has all these insights she needs to share. I'm living it every day. I don't need her amateur psycho-analysis.
During the holidays Jeffrey and I had a conversation about how his brother's illness makes our home a different place. He eventually asked about mom's role. I kept it simple and civil in expressing my resentment that she does not play a more active role. He must have said something to her before he flew back to LA.
Before his plane was off the ground she called with an offer that James spend an occasional night with her. At first I was skeptical. She had a long list of conditions. There was a madman in wanting to scream, "Conditions?", but I held him at bay. We ironed out the details over a few conversations. I vented a little about how difficult caring for him can be and told her we would appreciate any night off.
James spent the night of 1/9 at her apartment. Cheryl and I went out for dinner, nothing fancy, but it was great to have a break. They didn't go anywhere because mom has issues with his appearance. She makes much to do about almost nothing. He showers daily, just not thoroughly, so she complains about his hygiene. The physical ticks he has remain. The constant mimicking can get on your nerves. He also spent the 16th at her place.
We took him out Saturday night because mom had plans and could not have him over. I understand she has a life, so do we, a life interrupted by life.
We appreciate the occasional evening she might take James and hope they continue. It's not just for us. I believe James needs a break from being in this house and having his mom take a slightly larger role may help their relationship.
She has a handful of complaints, too many considering he's only spent two nights. That's just how she is. Going with the flow is not her way. I'm trying to help resolve these issues hoping they're not blown out of proportion. This is the history of drama between James and mom. I'd prefer not revisiting that chapter in life.
I don't know if there will be a slumber party this coming weekend. Those plans are up in the air.
We lacked hard evidence. The strewn money and ripped billfold were only circumstantail.
James was angry at the dog but I was not convinced. We have a dog with occasional chewing episodes. I still have my twisted eye glass frames. Every once in a while he'll find something, like a CD case or high heel shoe, to chew on when he's left home alone.
I have no clue why Mikey decided to chew these retro 80's techno punk sun glasses. It was the second pair of specs to fall victim. I still 'guilt him' with my mangled frame. He slinks away.
James would not let go of Michelangelo's cash snack. Every day he'd remark on the money muncher. He recited the missing bills. There was no sign of the alleged missing notes. I still doubted there was linen fiber paper currency in my dog's digestive system. A week passed.
We've had a bitch of a weather week here in the valley of the sun. All that weather pounding L.A. moves east, across the desert, the wind increases over the open space. Phoenix got pounded with high winds, driving rain, flash floods, property destruction and death. The palm trees in the yard were sideways. Chairs were tossed about the deck, my smoker was blown into the pool.
Today was cleanup day after days of shitty weather. The sun was shining. The ground was squishy from the rain. I had dog duty, the worst job of owning a free range Boxer. He poops where he wants, always on the landscape rocks. I let them dry in the desert sun. With all the rain, the nuggets rehydrated. Thank dog for rubber gloves. The problem is, the thin latex glove does not spare you the temperature or texture of the mess you're picking up.
Some places had bigger problems and nastier messes to clean up. My pool will not qualify for disaster relief.
Among the rocks along side a Texas Sage I spotted the first evidence. Andrew Jackson was staring at me from his resting place. I don't care how legal this tender is, no shopkeeper would accept the $20 bill I found. It was part of dog breakfast, days later, after three days of rain. The 7th president was a mess. I walked carefully. I did not care to be scraping a dead president from the bottom of my sandal.
Somewhere out there, if James was correct, was a portrait of Ulysses S. Grant. I stumbled across the crime scene. I found the remains of a Washington and a Hamilton. President Grant turned up later. All had been through the dog. None would be saved.
The mystery was solved. Michelangelo had in fact eaten a fair amount of cash. We've positively identified four bills, and one, a ten, a twenty and a fifty.
The 5.9 aftershock in Haiti rattled previously frayed nerves but may be overshadowed by the boots thumping on the ground. Thousands of people have descended on Port au Prince, none louder than our western media aftershock.
I understand the magnitude of the human tragedy. I feel terribly for the people in the affected city and villages but there's a point where media saturation becomes too much. This is the biggest story in the world but it's not the only news. You would not know this from watching CNN, Fox and especially the nightly news on the big three broadcast networks.
We should just start an All Haitian News Network for the people obsessed with the horror and devastation. Let the rest of us consider what else is happening in the world and watch the story in Haiti in our own measured manner.
Also in the news .....................
There was violence in Jos, Nigeria between Christians and Muslims. Over two hundred people died. Churches and mosques were attacked.
Congo's army has massacred 14,000 people in 2010. The mission is to rid the nation of militiamen responsible for tribal ethnic cleansing. As you might guess, many women and children are among the dead.
These stories are not uncommon in third world nations but we mostly ignore them. It's easier to ease the suffering of natural disaster victims because there are no bad guys to deal with.
Speaking of bad guys, Iraqi victims of Blackwater thugs are signing up for a class action suit against the private American security firm. This suit is very important and may set a precedent in international cases where civilian contractors act like warlords in war torn nations. It's a bigger problem than you might think. For the record, I'm on the side of the Iraqis in this case. Unless new information comes out what I have read makes Blackwater look like a death squad for hire.
This from the politically incorrect logic and commentary department ..................
I understand Haiti is the poorest nation in the western hemisphere. The Haitian people endure sickness, starvation and death as a part of their life. Where was the media on January 11th? The earthquake made life and death in Haiti a story of a greater magnitude but the truth is, Haiti has been a disaster for many decades. We mostly ignore it, the same way we ignore poor African nations, South American poverty, South Asian suffering and the poor people of any nation without natural resources to exploit.
If you don't have oil, a poor nation must have a natural disaster or harbor terrorists to get the attention of the western media. If your people are suffering from the everyday run-of-the-mill maladies of hunger, sickness, and general hopelessness you won't have CNN and FOX dropping their top correspondents in to set up satellite links for wall to wall coverage. That's just the way it is. This tragedy in Haiti is the news-of-the-day but in a short time there will be another tragedy or inhumane act of terrorism to steal the spotlight. It's only a matter of time. When the media pulls out the people of Haiti will be left to bury the dead, heal the wounded and clear the rubble with little attention.
All it would take to distract the media from Haiti is a blonde girl in Topeka being kidnapped. This is one type of story minority victims are not qualified for. It's sad but true. The media is racist in this regard.
There's more news you did not read today ..................
On a lighter note, a 13-year-old Saudi girl has been sentenced to 90 lashes for bringing a cell phone to school. Our human rights loving allies in the middle east have found a way to get their teens off Twitter and Facebook. She will be flogged in front of her class. In America, classmates would be snapping photos of the whipping with their I-phones. I'm guessing this won't be a problem in Arabia.
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sharpchick mentioned the Poe toaster in her blog. That's a great story. I read it yesterday. I also consider the possibility the original toaster has died. Roses and Cognac, nevermore.
Chappaquiddick was not enough an issue to unseat Ted Kennedy but anger over healthcare reform cost the Democrats his seat in congress. I get it, you can drown a young lady and hide the facts but you can't try to save her with health insurance. Politically, we Americans draw moral lines in the strangest places.
There is good news on the Haitian front .....................
This opinion may be harsh and a tad un-PC. When the dust settles on this disaster the survivors will be better off. ..... What? ..... Am I kidding? ........ No, hundreds of millions of dollars are pouring into this impoverished nation at a rate the Haitian people have never seen. The western industrialized nations will help them rebuild. There will be jobs. There will be food and water. There will be better healthcare and sanitation. There are fewer people to feed. In addition to the fatalities Haitians are fleeing by the boatload to points elsewhere, anywhere.
I don't believe this opinion is uncaring. The fact is they had too many mouths to feed, not enough food, scarce water, medievil sanitation and healthcare. If it weren't for charities and aid workers they would have nothing. Many of the caregivers are among the dead. Humanity lost some of it's most humane souls in this tragedy.
Port au Prince will have a different landscape in five years. Once the mourning ends I hope the people of Haiti take advantage of the international investment being made in their poor nation. It is darkest just before the dawn. This earthquake, as horrible as it is, may be the beginning of a new Haiti. We can only hope.
Not all aftershocks are bad.
If you made it through this entire post you may qualify for disaster relief from FEMA. Thankfully they're not in charge in Haiti.
We started seeing Avatar trailers in the theatre months ago. From the beginning I had no interest in seeing the film. I'm not an action movie fan. I'm not a fantasy or Sci-Fi buff. For me, there was nothing attractive about James Cameron's blockbuster.
After the premiere there were complaints, mostly from right wingers, the film had an anti-war agenda. Then it was an obvious pro-environment motive. Oh no, not the evil environment again! Last week came accusations from the left of a racist plot. How can one film offend so many people on the right and left? When the Roman Catholic church condemned the movie my apathy turned to curiosity. I had to see it for myself. James wanted to see it so we took in the 3D version this evening.
I went in with eyes open looking for the anti-war, environment, racist and false God messages that have all the uber-sensitive-turd-for-brains whining. T
Avatar is more war movie than anti-war. The fact we humans are the bad guys is making people squirm. Introspection is not always comfy. Racism? I don't think so but you could easily see the Navi people as representing native Americans, exploited for the wealth of their land. The Catholics are just pissed Avatar's spiritual message is not God centric. Nature is respected and worshipped.
Since the dawn of film making serious films have held social or political messages. I don't understand why people get upset when a movie takes one side of an issue. I suspect the offended are the usual suspects looking for offense in the public square. They seek offensive material and will find it even if it's only in their pointy little heads. Sometimes they're correct. A writer or director has an agenda and a story was told with one side in mind. So what. Don't read the book. Don't see the movie.
The only offensive agenda I see in the Avatar controversy is the simple minded thought police trying to control what we consume in books and movies. STFU.
I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed Avatar. James Cameron gave us a visual masterpiece. If that's not enough for you maybe you'll enjoy the spirituality of the natural world. I recommend this film, especially if you like fantasy adventure with a moral message and plenty of action.
At $12.50 the 3D version was pricey but worth the extra few bucks.
After reading a Wall Street Journal article about jobs that will never return to this economy I wondered what all the construction, financial services and manufacturing workers will do next. The housing meltdown trimmed over 1.5 million construction jobs and 1/2 million jobs in the mortgage/finance business. Competition overseas and south of the border has sucked hundreds of thousands of manufacturing jobs away from the US economy in the last decade. None of this is news to someone paying attention to the world.
I love technology but there's a side of human advancement we don't consider. The recording industry, from producing to retail is 1/3 smaller than it was due to the advent of mp3. I did not consider my Ipod is costing some people their jobs. My reading the news online, not buying newspapers or magazines, has resulted in a 25% loss in publishing jobs. The digital camera I use and the phones with cameras have resulted in 45% of photo processing jobs to vanish. Because we have Google at our fingertips, finding information with the click of a mouse, office administrative jobs have been cut by 10%. Even the clueless office manager can find what he needs without a secretary. Technology is making the world smaller. That's why you get a service rep with a strange accent when you call your bank about that mystery charge on your Visa. We're losing jobs in services.
In past recessions the job markets rebounded after the bust. In previous booms the total number of American jobs surpassed the pre-bust highs. That's not going to happen this time. The only area predicting a major increase in jobs is healthcare. Our aging population will require more caregivers. Unfortunately these are not high paying jobs, at least not as high as many of the jobs lost in the past few years.
I'm trying to imagine that rugged construction worker trying to locate my vein to draw blood during an office visit. It's not a pretty image. I can't see my high heeled nattily clad mortgage broker changing a bed pan, but I hope that cold crooked bitch is looking for a job.
I don't have the imagination to know what business 3 million people will find jobs in over the next few years. Hopefully there will be some not-yet-known technological advance, retraining, and a million new jobs making and servicing the new gadgets we must have. Unfortunately the Chinese will work cheaper and our greedy corporations are more than happy to give them work at our nations expense.
Every time I read about the recovery I'm skeptical. The cynic in me looks at the evidence and wonders where the optimist is finding evidence we're coming back. There have been some good numbers coming from the manufacturing sector ..... mainly the purchase of raw materials that suggests we're preparing to make new stuff again ...... but I see little evidence that we'll rebound to a level that creates millions of jobs.
The next time you see corporate advertising claiming patriotism, flip your television the bird. There is no nationalism in corporate America. I also doubt Obama and his hope & change team have answers. How bad can a first year of a presidency be? I know it's not all his fault but he wanted the job. Now he should try doing it.
I blame it on Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Sergey Brin and that "Can you hear me now?" dude. If these tech geeks just let us stick with our trusty old paper clips, the rolodex, binders, index cards and phone booths we'd be less efficient and more people would be needed to do the jobs we do. Technology hurts people ...... but I'm not sending my Ipod back, or my laptop. I'll keep my cell phone too. There's no going backwards.
There may never be a boom like we just had but I suppose there's some good news. Without the boom there may never be a bubble to burst like the one we just popped. Ya see, positive energy. I'm trying to end this with happy thoughts. It's a new year baby and I have a pair of rose colored glasses.
I suspect we've all had these unfortunate phone calls bearing bad news. It seems I've had more than my share. I've had so many 'bad news' calls I have been conditioned to cringe when my cell phone rings. I've also made a few of these calls. I rarely answer the home phone. I let the machine pick up.
Ring ring. Don't panic. I'm at the Hasbro Children's Hospital ER. Jeff was attacked by the neighbors dog.
Ring ring. Hello, Mr. P. This is the Sunday River ski patrol. There's been an accident. Your son is being transported to the hospital for surgery.
Ring ring. Dad. I had an accident. I'm okay but I think the car is totaled.
Ring ring. Hey it's me. I'm in the ER at Killington. I dislocated my shoulder again.
Ring ring. Hello Mr. P, this is the Maricopa County Sherriff's department. He have your son here and ......
Ring ring. Hey dad. How are you? I've got some bad news. Don't worry, I'm okay now but ......
Ring ring. Hello, this is the dean of student affairs at UM Law. There's appears to be a problem with your son.
Ring ring. Mr P. Your son is missing.
Ring ring. Don, this is Mr. H. We found your son. He's been arrested again. (this was good news)
Ring ring. Hello, dad? I need my insurance information.
The last call came Saturday. Jeff was skiing at Big Bear, CA and went down with a dislocated collar bone. In my family, on a scale of 1 through 10, a dislocated bone is somewhere between a 3 or 4. We've had fractured skulls and other injuries requiring emergency surgery. Jeff will be okay after an uncomfortable week or two.
I know all parents deal with trauma and tragedy. Maybe we don't have more incidents than the average family. I really don't know. But it seems we have more than most people I know. An old friend back home once said, "Why does everything happen to your family?" When you add the lost wallets, missing car keys, roadside breakdowns, and other minor mishaps it seems there's always something going on. Enough already.
The good news is, even with his sling and painful injury Jeff can still text message and play XBox. Whew!
The holiday season is officially over. Alarm clocks are set for the working hour. We get paid by those who learn from our mistakes. After suffering a few morning commutes 2010 reminded me of something. 2009. it's exactly the same as the last work week, and the month before, and one year ago. New year my ass.
And what's all this end-of-decade bullshit the media has foisted upon us. The decade ends AFTER the tenth year. We don't start counting with a zero, we end on a zero. 1-2-3-4-on and on until we reach ten. The media pulled the same scam at the end of the millennia. 2000 was not the first year of the new century, it was the last year of the 20th century. I hate this shit and I hate that people don't understand. Fucking media lemmings.
As much as I love the good tidings of 'Happy New Year' and the hope a new calendar brings, the truth is we're in the same boat we were sinking in 2009. The economy still sucks. People are losing jobs. The housing and mortgage mess festers. Peace on earth? I don't think so, not with two wars in progress. Obama has not done a helluva lot in his first year. Flipping a couple of digits on the year makes no difference. Healthcare? We'll see.
On positive note. It feels better at MT without the Bird, a.k.a. Tony the pizza man. Here I am lamenting joblessness at the same time I'm glad one guy is no longer with us. A source of stress was given his walking papers. That's all I have to say about that.
I'm glad college bowl season is coming to an end. With my sons home there was a college football game on every day. There are 34 bowl games. That's just stupid. Some very mediocre teams are getting rewarded for shitty seasons. Who cares about the Ernie's Tire & Lube Shop Grease Bowl between teams that finished in 7th place in their conferences? Apparently my sons do. Jeffrey's school won a bowl game. He attends every UCLA home game and some on the road. Penn State - LSU was not pretty.
It will all be thankfully over Thursday. With that said, I'm wondering about the Orange Bowl right now. I'll probably watch the Texas - Bama game.
The sameness of this first week of 2010 should be a reminder to us all that we're a silly culture with celebrations and traditions that mark nothing at all. These rituals are just another reason to drink. So maybe they're not so bad but it seems we're always looking for a reason to party. There's a drought between 1/1 and St Patrick's Day. After that there's a string of holidays to party. One for every ethnic group. In between we have Fridays, and Saturdays, and NFL Sunday.
The Sherlock Holmes film is very good. I found it entertaining start to finish. Of course there are loose ends. Robert Downey Jr. is on top of his game right now with some well made popular movies and big sequels coming.
I checked it last night. It was just bugging me. I must credit Wikipedia for explaining the decade fiasco in a reasonable manner. They covered both sides of the issue. But I'm still a 1 through 10 believer.......... and that it really doesn't matter. The other people are just wrong.
Is that monkey drinking Schlitz? That was the first beer i ever drank. It was a king size can.
My football team did not make the playoffs. That's okay, they can't take away the six Lombardi Trophies. Wait until next year is so much easier when you have a few championships behind you. Ask a Cubs fan.
This is the result of having five days of writing and throwing nothing away. There's some typical cynicism and a little positive energy. I need to find it every day things. My ex wife did not call today, A big plus. Positive energy. There's some simmering bullshit in the ex-marital-co-parental relationship of my life. There could be drama on the horizon. Stay tuned.
The last year of the first decade of this new century at the beginning of the third millennia feels a lot like the rest of the decade. It's not going to chang unless we make it so.
Positive energy.
This will need a lot of tags.
Last night Cheryl and I took the boys to an NBA game as a Xmas gift. The Boston Celtics were in town to play the Phoenix Suns. Sporting events have always been a major entertainment choice for our family. Over the years I've taken my boys to ballgames from Boston to Los Angeles and many points between. James and Jeff love attending games.
Before the game we grabbed a quick bite at Stoudemires, a restaurant owned by a PHX player. We had a great night out. Unfortunately for us Boston fans, the Celtics were missing their best offensive player and best defender. The Suns owned the undermanned men in green. It wasn't pretty.
We cheer for our favorite players and teams from the sidelines. We hope they do well. Some people pray their team reaches their goal of winning-it-all. But we have no power to affect the outcome of a play, the game or the long season. There are times when I feel this way about my life. When I have no control of an outcome I feel like a spectator, watching life from the edge.
For the record, this is not a blue post. My mood is contemplative with a matter-of-fact tone.
James is doing okay at home, but not great. I'm grateful he takes his meds. I'm happy his personality is close to the young man I knew prior to his illness. Thank you depakote. There are still issues with hygiene. He does not shower often or thoroughly enough. His room smells. He leaves messes around the house. Cheryl and I take action to stay ahead of the mess. He eats like a bear having just awakened from hibernation. He's gained weight.
None of the clothes we bought him for Christmas fit. He was not happy about this and decided to start running. Most nights he takes the dog for a 5-10 minute jog. It's hardly enough exercise to combat the onslaught of calories from gluttony but I'm encouraged by his attempt. I hope he builds on this motivation.
In recent weeks James has gone out with friends from high school. He contacted them hoping to reconnect. They've all graduated college, found jobs, some moved away but are home for the holidays and one is married, Their lives are on chosen paths.These old friends have no clue what James has been through in the last two years. I wonder and worry about what he's telling them.
His 'old friend issue' is enough for a blog entry of it's own.
I talk to my son about his life situation but I have little chance of affecting the outcome. I'm a spectator shouting at the ball to go into the net. He listens to my questions. We discuss his issues but his point of view is skewed by schizophrenic thinking. I have no impact.
James is not the only contest in life I have no ability to affect.
My housing-mortgage situation remains in limbo. I recently learned my home is worth less than half what it was appraised at when I refinanced for my divorce in 2006. I knew it was bad but it's worse than I thought. I cannot imagine being here one year from now. Numbers don't lie. After 24 years of home ownership, being a renter again does not sound as bad as it once did.
My on-the-job stress lingers at years end with little chance of a turn around but there is small improvement. The new guy making life at work intolerable, a.k.a. Tony the pizza man, was let go yesterday. It was only a matter of time. If it weren't for the holidays he would have been fired weeks ago. We didn't have the heart to do the dirty deed before Christmas. It felt very strange to feel happy a man lost his job. I'm not that cold. This had to be done.
It's not easy feeling we have no say in the outcome of life's events. Uncertainty is not comfortable. I'm a man of modest means. I can only do so much for my son. The rest is beyond my control. The real estate market is certainly not within my ability to affect nor can I convince a bank they need to make further adjustments for me to stay here. I may have some say in my employment situation, as I have in the past, but until the job market improves I'll have to stay where I am making the best of it.
I love the HBO series Entourage. Ironically, Vinny Chase and the boys represent many of the excesses I question in our liberal western society. But the show is funny, well written and acted. Sure, the boys are shallow, materialistic, pretentious, but the writers make us care about the characters. Good writers can make us root for bad men. Being on the side of a few Hollywood airheads is no big deal.
I started watching the show in the middle of season two. I try to catch it every week when it's in-season but never have to worry because HBO replays series' all week. After season six ended I started Netflixing the older seasons, starting at the beginning, watching them in order. We're at the end of season three.
I cannot claim loyalty to any television shows but I have become attached to a few HBO series. There is a major bonus of no commercials and cable allows the reality of every day language and mature material. When you add the freedom of watching it when I want, HBO wins my patronage.
I even have a framed Entourage poster over the pool table. I'm a fan.
Even though we despise him sometimes, Jeremy Piven's portrayal of vulger hyper-agent Ari Gold is fabulous. I celebrate his political incorrectness. I also enjoy the cameos done by real celebrities. Apparently, there's no shortage of major Hollywood talent hoping for a spot in an episode.
I can't say watching a series is quality time with the kids, but the whole family watches Entourage. I can't think of another show we all enjoy. We're not very loyal TV viewers.
I don't see myself buying the DVD sets, I've seen it all, but I will miss this show after season #7 wraps up in 2010. The end of Entourage is coming soon.
This languished in my drafts folder for weeks.
A couple of months ago I felt badly for Tiger Woods, as bad as you can feel for a man with hundreds of millions of dollars. The media was crawling all over his neighborhood. He'd just crashed his Cadillac Escalade into a tree at the and of his driveway. He was injured. His wife ran down the driveway to extract him from his crumpled SUV. It was 2:25 in the morning. The paparazzi wanted a story and Tiger's bad driving was the big news of the day.
Where was he going at that late hour? Had he been drinking? Was there a fight between he and his wife? The questions swirled. A recent tabloid tale of infidelity was the center of much speculation. Mr. and Mrs. Tiger were sequestered in their 2.5 million dollar home. I felt bad because few men or women would be subjected to such public scrutiny had we crashed our car into a neighbor's tree. This is the price Tiger and other celebrities pay for their fame and fortune.
Several weeks, lots of new information and a half dozen mistresses later: I'm feeling no pity for Mr. Woods. As news of his serial (and surreal) cheating came out the world began to realize Tiger Woods was not a cut above other celebrity athletes. His image as a clean cut, no nonsense, professional has been destroyed. The man is no better than the cheating and lying thugs of the NFL, MLB and NBA. The womanizing of professional athletes is not new. Tiger's philandering is only the latest example. Fans thought, and hoped, he was better than the rest.
With model Jamie Jungers providing sordid details of her 18 month tryst, complete with a timeline, his flying her around the country and her 'visiting the family home' several times..... I could not imagine Mrs. Tiger would remain married to the most recognizable face in extra marital affair history. My question to Tiger Woods and the hundreds of other cheating celebrities is ....... why get married if you want the playboy lifestyle?
The opportunity to cheat is ever present for the celebs of sports and entertainment. They're loved by fans. They have money. Their careers require travel and long periods away from home. There's no shortage of women (or men) seeking their attention. I understand the situation but I don't understand how they expect to get away with it. Everyone knows your face Tiger! You are the most recognizable athlete on the planet. Are you that drunk on your own fame?
Wilt Chamberlain claimed to have bedded 10,000 women during his NBA career. He's a proud man. Maybe Tiger was trying to break Wilt the Stilt's record. We can only speculate.
Corporations are jumping off the Tiger bandwagon. Gatoraid dropped him as a spokeperson claiming the decision was made long ago. Yeah. What. Ever. Accenture, Gillette and watch maker Tag Heuer have cut ties with the most famous philanderer. Having him as pitchman is not good for their public image and we all know how corporate America values image. He still has Buick and Nike in his corner but I suspect there's discussion in those board rooms.
Don't worry about TW. He won't be on food stamps.
There is one record Woods may break, the amount of money lost through infidelity and divorce. Half of what he has is a boatload of money and real estate. His estimated worth is ONE BILLION DOLLARS. I hope Mrs. Tiger gets every penny possible under the law. I trust the needs of her children will be met.
Jeff bought me the Inglourious Basterds DVD for Xmas. I loved the film in the cinema on opening weekend and blogged about it. http://dadadadio.livejournal.com/81007.h
I often read member reviews on Netflix after I see a movie. I find most of the negative reviews to be pointless bashings written by people who most likely made a bad movie choice given their taste. If you click on the 'other reviews' link for these members you'll find they mostly review films they hate. I think this says more about the reviewer than the film they're panning.
Movies are like music. We run them through the filter of our personal taste, sensitivity, and the mood we're in at the moment we experience the art form. Our preferences are unique to us and while critique is often helpful I think we must be aware of our biases before we put pen to paper.
I would never watch a violent action movie based in martial arts and then write a scathing review because I know I'm not a big action movie fan and the over-the-top martial arts variety are not my favorite within that genre. But some people love that stuff. Why do movie fans who don't appreciate Quentin Tarantino films bother to watch them ...... then waste time beating on the work in a nasty review?
I'm usually moved to write about filmmaking and music I love. When an artist moves me in a negative way I tend to move past the experience with a ..... "Well, that sucked for me."..... and forget about it. There's plenty of film and music out there for everyone but not all of it is for everyone. Sometimes we pick a lemon.
A couple of weeks ago I happened across a Robin Williams movie I had never heard of, 'The House of D'. I find accidental art discoveries to be wonderful. In a supporting role, Williams plays a mentally handicapped man who becomes jealous as the people around him move on in life while he cannot. He clings to the past. The movie is not about him but he's great in the film. I much rather recommend a fine piece of feel good filmmaking than prattle on about a movie I was bored with.
I wish the Netflix amateur movie experts would consider their own taste before they drag a movie's rating down with their negativity. Give the film your one-crappy-star-rating and find another movie to watch. Sometimes it's best to dismiss art as simply not-being-for-us than to critically destroy it as if we have some special insight into the art form.
Inglourious Basterds will be a long and tedious film for movie goers who don't like lengthy suspense filled scenes used to develop characters. The film will offend those who are sensitive to violent images, revenge, war atrocities, or the relationship between Jews and Nazis. If you don't like war movies you might want to skip this film. If you don't like Quentin Tarantino, don't even think about it.
I promise to not listen to country western music and waste my time writing about how much I hate it.
Since my divorce I've attempted to start new traditions. I love having the Eve at my place with the few people closest to me. Seafood and stockings, a few cocktails and watching a movie late in the evening. Tomorrow we pay visits for breakfast and dinner, modest gift giving with no high expectations.
If I pay less attention to Santa and sales I find the season more enjoyable. This year I worked on doing just that. The constant reminders make it impossible to avoid but I can measure my participation. Each season I will try to lesson issues that bring people angst during this season until I lose the Scrooge.
I was thinking about the good people of Paz de Christo. The souls who volunteer this season understand the true meaning of Christmas. If there is hope in mankind it lies in the hearts of these givers of goodwill.
Merry Christmas to all. I hope you have a safe and peaceful holiday.