Hustle's Hot Corner

-30-

2010-03-14T23:33:00.003-04:00

For the first time in 13 1/2 years, I am no longer a full-time newspaper journalist.

It all still feels a bit surreal. As our industry eroded, wave by wave, I came to adopt Bum Phillips' old saying: There's two kinds of journalists, them that's been laid off and them that's gonna be laid off.

There's already been too much time consumed and words wasted lamenting the losses, so I feel no need to add to that.

Instead, consider this a short memoir. It's one man's journey, consequential to no one, but preserved before the memories fade away.

I never planned on being a journalist. I always envisioned something different, like teaching or meteorology, maybe both. Then I discovered I was too ill-tempered for teaching obnoxious youths; further, I was completely uninterested in physics and chemistry, prereqs to weather-related studies.

It was as simple as this: As a junior with major-declaration time approaching, I did the math. I had always been a fair writer. I always enjoyed sports. Why not be a sportswriter?

As a senior, I landed an internship at my hometown paper, The Times News in Lehighton, Pa. Upper management loved a free worker.

My first assignment was a football game between my alma mater and a high school that was within a block of our campus; you can see how close they are on Google Maps (click the Satellite view; Moravian College's football field, then in the middle of renovations, is the tan blob to the left).

I was warned beforehand that covering high school football was a pain, and my experience concurred. Stats provided by the schools were too often unreliable and usually couldn't be obtained on tight, Friday night deadlines, so it was up to us to keep the stats. If you've never been a journalist, imagine charting what happened on every play, how much yardage it gained or lost, who carried, passed or caught, whether a first down resulted, whether a touchdown resulted (and what time this occurred at), whether a penalty resulted (and figuring out what the new down and distance was after the penalty was assessed) and, possibly, who made a big defensive play.

And don't forget, you have 30 seconds or so to write all this down between plays.

What disappointed me most was that everything I had learned about the tactical side of football - passing routes, blitz pickups, blocking angles - was of no use. There was no time to dissect what went right and what went wrong unless it was obvious to everyone watching the game (a middle defender blocking a kick, for instance).

But I learned as a I grew older; when play-by-play charting became an afterthought, I was able to jot notes about what had happened and a key moment that made it happen.

My second assignment was much closer to the office. I filed from there that night, my first experience inside of a newsroom. I was stunned at how I felt it was simply the place for me to be. I felt at home there. I heard intelligent discussions about sports, the jocular banter you'd expect in an all-male department, and, for the first time, the sense of contributing something that was part of a much larger scheme.

I learned much more than that, of course. Emmett McCall helped me understand solid design principles; it took me years to figure out how he could so quickly take a batch of stories that were to be on a page and whip up a stable design that would prevent bumping heds and the like. Rod Heckman gave me appreciation for statheads and folks with a quiet, solid work ethic. Steve Stallone, who left shortly thereafter to move to the Hazleton Standard-Speaker, taught me how to cover events like a pro. Ed Hedes, our boss, stuck up for me even when I didn't deserve such treatment.

We only had one major shift in personnel. When including the weeklies that we owned, colleagues like Scott Pagel (hockey) and Kate Huvane (field hockey) not only became good friends, but taught me the skill and artistry of the sports they knew best.

And along the way, we had a blast doing it. Beers in the media lot at Pocono Raceway (on a Friday afternoon no less! But shhhh...), mocking the characters of 'Days of Our Lives' with Kate, listening to the Notre Dame fight song every f---ing time Emmett's computer booted up.

I was privileged in that Ed was OK with most ideas I proposed. I could cover Philadelphia Eagles and Penn State angles at the NFL Draft; so, for two years, I went to New York. We had somehow lucked into a credential for the Orioles-Indians ALDS in '97, so I went. (I'll always remember being on the field standing next to Jayson Stark, Pedro Gomez (both before they ventured to ESPN) and a third person listen to a discussion with then-Indians GM John Hart about a potential salary cap in baseball. All this happened as Stark was on the Fanavision in the stadium, doing an interview for a segment for 'This Week In Baseball.') I covered the first interleague game between the Phillies and the Blue Jays.

And toward the end of stay at home, I covered the college signing of a local kid who was going to play offensive line for the University of Richmond. What a random choice, I thought. What exactly is there in Virginia that would draw someone there?

By that time, it had become clear that remaining in Lehighton would not be a wise move. There's only so many years you can spend in a hometown of 5,000 people; when I had the audacity to pick against my alma mater in our weekly Grid Picks, I often had people ask why I wasn't more supportive of them. The most ridiculous comment of that nature came when Lehighton faced Berwick at the end of one regular season; then, Berwick was the class of eastern Pennsylvania football and the Indians were no match.

My own stubbornness didn't help. I didn't see eye to eye with management - the ones who enjoyed the free labor - and though I still feel as if I was right in my resentment, I now understand there would have been better ways to handle it. The general manager, for instance, was the publisher's son and had come straight from an underling advertising position. He knew nothing of production, from editorial to editing to printing; once, when I worked as sports editor of a weekly that served the area where he resided, he once requested an extra page - on production day! - to ensure that I would have enough room to print his son's youth league results. Even the compliments were half-assed; when I took a photo of a high school baseball player named Geoff Kelowitz, his subsequent e-mail commended me for my "nice photo of the Kelowitz." I burned bridges with them and though I'm sorry I did, I'm not that sorry.

I looked for the first train out of town, somewhere within a range of southern New England to Northern Virginia. My first job offer was at a small placed called the Manassas Journal Messenger. One my final day, Bob Urban - our then-managing editor at the TN and a man I continue to greatly admire - reminded me, "If those Southerners give you any problems down there, you just remind them that they're still batting 0 for 1." I didn't know at the time that Manassas was hardly "The South," which starts at Fredericksburg.

I plunged myself into an area I didn't know. My first residence was a room rented from an eccentric, single older woman. My room had no cable and I was not one to hang out with her much; the only way to keep up with the world was at work. So I worked often.

At the JM, I was immediately taken by a different style of leadership. It felt more professional and less collegial than the TN, and I mean to infer nothing bad about the latter. Lehighton and Carbon County is/was a small region where people knew people; Manassas was part of suburbia, sprawling and always in flux. Both styles served their areas well, and neither was better than the other; they were just markedly different.

Perhaps what was more striking was the divergent backgrounds of the people who made up the newsroom. Our editor was from southern Georgia and graduated from Florida; a copy editor had gone to Lehigh, just across the river in Bethlehem from Moravian; our sports editor was from west of Richmond but had spent time at U.Va. and Arizona State.

Really, everything was different. I was within walking distance of multiple businesses that were open 24 hours a day; I can think of maybe two such businesses in all of Lehighton. The nearest Best Buy was in Allentown, a 25-minute drive; in Manassas, there was one that was less than a 25-minute walk. On one route to the office, I passed maybe 30 restaurants, far more than any route in Lehighton would produce. I now had to worry about traffic and the federal government.

There were many lonely nights in Manassas, wondering if I'd made the right move. None was worse than when a fire consumed the townhouse next to us, forcing us to relocate while the house was rebuilt. I stayed with a kind neighbor and his family while more permanent housing could be found; I read thick classics to pass the night hours away, since I didn't want to be any more of a bother than I already was, considering my odd work hours. (The misery then paid off later with a sweet long-term apartment in a gated community in McLean, near Tysons Corner.)

But I also increasingly found my stride within the community, the paper and as a writer. The first story I ever wrote that I was really proud of involved a deaf eighth-grader who played basketball. His sign language coach, a female, had also played basketball and served as his interpreter. "When he gets yelled at, I yell at him through sign language," she said.

Within six months of arriving, though, changes were afoot. Our papers were being combined with another one in the same county, lengthening my commute by a great degree. After a few months, it became too much and three of us, all in sports, rented a townhouse nearer to the office. Thus began the fun years of the Woodbridge frathouse.

With Keith McMillan, Kipp Hanley and I, we all enjoyed a place to rest our heads and commiserate privately about whatever was going wrong with work. We were all single at varying points, enjoying our jobs and, for the most part, each other.

This also coincided as the most fun I'd had working in sports. We had a superb team with excellent writers and reporters, all of whom had daily newspaper experience before coming here. We routinely won awards, all of us, and were the best sports section in the state for our size, by any measure. We had different specialties and varying abilities, all of which came together for a halcyon era, at least by the standards I'd had.

Lacy Lusk was a baseball encyclopedia and a thoughtful reporter. (Once, while putting together a friend's going-away page, I pasted the head of Osama bin Laden onto the body of then-Braves pitcher Tom Glavine. Lacy happened by and saw my work. He deadpanned, "bin Laden's a lefty. Who knew?") Keith was a superb writer, unafraid to take on subjects that others would shy away from. Kipp routinely found outstanding human interest stories, and Dave Utnik was as descriptive a writer as you'd find. Marcus Rosano, our desk guy, was steady, unflappable and always willing to listen to gripes, professional or otherwise. I always considered myself a utility player, with comparable - but not superior - skills to any of the above. We all had fun and we kicked ass doing it.

When our clan broke up, a new wave of faces replaced them. Keith and Lacy moved on to bigger things; Marcus moved on to better things. Guys like Byron Barboza, Chris Errington and Tom Lawson helped bring in a new era; I don't know that our quality slipped a great deal, but the era was different nonetheless. Byron sat next to me, and could often be heard arguing with Tom about the inane topic of the day. At least there was life among us.

I was finding my stride as a writer and as a designer. I found myself sitting down at a computer after an event and struggling with the lede, as we've all done; my only credo - "write something intelligent" - reverberated through my head, a cautionary tale against the easy, too-frequent AP ledes of a one-line setup before the nut graf. As a designer, I appreciated the fact that I could clear off my calendar and produce an excellent centerpiece, provided I could find the materials and the know-how to do it.

I was also fortunate to cover some incredible events, some of which I'd written about before (numbers 1, 2 and 5 happened during this era). I covered the Washington Redskins part-time for several years. I had one-on-one interviews with people I could have never imagined, like Ryan Howard and Jack Nicklaus.

A year and a half ago, things changed. We were told that we were a community newspaper and, as such, there was no reason to spend resources covering 'national' sports like the Redskins (though no one could ever tell me why, since I was told specifically it was not a resource, financial or competence issue). The specter of layoffs was also imminent, given what was going on across the industry and that some layoffs had already occurred at some of our company's papers. We didn't know when or what, but the sense that something would happen.

A year ago, it did. Our executive editor decided she wanted a universal desk, one in which a set of copy editors are responsible for the whole paper; there are no sports-only copy editors, for instance. I was placed on the desk; my days as a full-time writer were over. I continue to have deep feelings about this move; lest I burn any more bridges, I'll keep them to myself.

This move also set the stage for my eventual layoff. In the fall, we began hearing of plans for a consolidated copy desk, somewhere far (Richmond) or very far (Lynchburg) from where we currently were. The drumbeat grew louder, and sources inside and outside our building confirmed that a move was imminent. By January, we'd received unofficial word; by mid-February, we received official word. We could move to Lynchburg or be laid off.

I took the latter.

I'll walk into that office tomorrow as a contractor, unsure of what lies ahead.

But I took tonight to look back, to revisit the good and bad. The journey has been incredible and, were you to read this to me when I was in Bethlehem, unbelievable. I met people and went places and saw things that were simply beyond my comprehension then. For heaven's sake, I sat in the front row of the Hoosier Dome, watching Florida beat UCLA for the men's Division I basketball tournament.

It was a good run.

Eclectic music tastes

2009-01-07T22:48:00.002-05:00

So a friend recently remarked that I had the greatest mix of music ever. See, there's a thread over at SJ where you take your iPod/MP3 player and relate the first five songs on the shuffle. No skipping, nothing. Apparently my shuffle was varied and crazy enough to elicit such a response.

With that in mind, here's the full list of bands on my iPod (thanks, Santa!). Eclectic, or just plain nuts?

(Please also note that some of these bands' tunes came via soundtracks and compilations, so this is not an exhaustive list of my CD collection.)

2 Unlimited
The 5th Dimension
AC/DC
Aerosmith
The Alan Parsons Project
Alanis Morissette
Alice In Chains
Aretha Franklin
Az Yet
BTO
Bad Company
Barenaked Ladies
The Beatles
Better Than Ezra
Billy Joel
Black Box
Blackstreet
Blindside
Blink-182
Blue Oyster Cult
Blur
Bob Marley & The Wailers
Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band
Boston
Boyz II Men
Bruce Springsteen
Bush
The Byrds
C+C Music Factory
Carl Douglas
The Cars
Chad Kroeger
The Champs
Cheap Trick
Collective Soul
Coolio
The Cranberries
Creed (just one song, don't worry)
CCR
Culture Club
Damn Yankees
Dave Matthews Band
Deep Purple
Def Leppard
Depeche Mode
Dire Straits
Dishwalla
The Doors
Dr. Dre
Elton John
Everclear
Everything But The Girl
Faith Evans
Filter
Fleetwood Mac
Foo Fighters
Foreigner
The Four Tops
Fuel
The Fugees
Garth Brooks
Gary Glitter
Genesis
Gin Blossoms
Goo Goo Dolls
Grateful Dead
Groove Theory
Guns 'n' Roses
Hank Williams Jr.
Harry Connick Jr.
Ice-T
Iron Maiden
James Brown
Jay-Z
Jefferson Starship
Jimi Hendrix
Jimmy Buffett
Jodeci
Joe Jackson
Journey
Judas Priest
KC & The Sunshine Band
K7
Kansas
Kiss
The Knack
Korn
Led Zeppelin
Limp Bizkit
Lisa Loeb
Little River Band
Live
LL Cool J
Lynyrd Skynyrd
M/A/R/R/S
Madonna
The Mamas and The Papas
Mariah Carey
Marky Mark & The Funky Bunch
Meat Loaf
Megadeth
Metallica
Montell Jordan
Monty Python
Motley Crue
NWA
Naughty by Nature
Nirvana
No Doubt
Oasis
Onyx
Ozzy Osbourne
Paul Simon
Petey Pablo
Pink Floyd
Poison
The Police
The Presidents of The United States of America
Public Enemy
Quad City DJs
Queen
R. Kelly
The Ramones
Ratt
Red Hot Chili Peppers
Red Rider
Reel 2 Real
REO Speedwagon
Rob Base & DJ Easy Rock
Robert Palmer
Rod Stewart
The Romantics
Sarah McLaughlin
Scorpions
Seal
Simon & Garfunkel
Skee-Lo
Smashing Pumpkins
Snoop Dogg
Steam
Steppenwolf
Sting
Stone Temple Pilots
Survivor
Tag Team
Tchaikovsky
Technotronic
Tesla
TLC
Todd Rundgren
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
Toto
Train
Tupac Shakur
U2
Van Halen
The Verve Pipe
W.A.S.P.
Warrant
Weezer
Whitesnake
Willie Nelson

Graphic discussion

2008-12-15T00:53:00.001-05:00

I've been around news all my life. My parents were religious local news watchers and, for most of the time when I lived at home, we subscribed to a morning and an afternoon paper. My least favorite part of going off to camp was the disconnectedness I felt; no TV and no papers meant I was cut off from current events - even if I had no geopolitical understanding and, therefore, no context to those events.

We were lucky, then, that I got to experience news from several viewpoints. We got broadcasts from New York (where there's always something going on), Philadelphia (and its ruthless press corps) and Scranton (where a local fair was as likely to lead the newscast as anything).

And it wasn't always the news that interested me. The graphics were a big part too; of particular interest were the openings: WPVI's legendary quick-hit video with Al Ham's "Move Closer To Your World"; WNEP, which still uses a different Ham composition; and WCAU's multi-person opening that was used before I moved south.

I suppose it's natural, then, that this curiosity carries through to today.

For some reason, instead of the openings, the thing that catches my eye today is how stations and networks introduce breaking news. So when I stumbled across these two examples, it made for a fascinating contrast.

First, CNN:

It's bold, it's flashy. Three notes and the climax. And it has traditional elements too: notice the strings playing after the other instruments have faded. If you're of a certain age, you'll remember that back when, the sound of a Morse code used to be popular on news broadcasts. They're keeping an eye on the wire, ready to bring you anything of importance that crosses it. (Note that this version doesn't have a voiceover, which is heard in this example.)

Now, onto BBC World:

It's much more stylish, in a European sort of way, with all its half-spheres and curves. The music is far less dramatic and, though urgent in its opening notes, less attention-grabbing.

But such is the difference between the cultures. We're more bold and loud, they're more reserved and stylistic.

So I don't know if it matters a hoot to anyone, just something I found curious: cultural differences as seen in news graphics.

A restaurant that gets it

2008-12-09T23:37:00.004-05:00

I've found a new favorite lunch place on the Wednesdays when I trek to Ashburn (and, of course, assuming there's time to be had for lunch).

It's called California Tortilla; I've seen them refer to themselves as Cal Tort for short, even if it sounds like a small, forgotten branch of a law firm.

I used to get my daily dose of humor on the hilarious bumpers for Lucy. Then Sirius went and ruined the channel, turning it into a soulless wasteland (though thankfully it doesn't have a DJ, unlike most other channels).

These days, CalTort fits the bill. Those are some of the freebies pictured above. The napkin should be easy enough to read; the drink behind it has some poor sap getting a drink dumped on his head by someone woman who looks to be having way too much fun dumping. The tagline reads: "Refills are on us!"

Yes, it's a silly gag. But when a place is full of them, it shows you that it doesn't take itself seriously. And that brings a smile to your face.

Just above the soda fountain is a sign that goes where a Coke or Pepsi logo would be. It's a two-part sign that's split by the ice dispenser. The left side reads: "Bad Bob fills his water cup with soda." And it shows some guy, Bob presumably, getting the finger-wagging treatment from another, equally random guy, presumably an authority figure. The right side of the sign says, "Good Bob fills his water cup with water!" Same two random guys, except the lecture is now a celebration. Conflict resolution while you tap the Sprite spigot.

This is part of a long, backward "L" shaped counter; this is the very top of the letter. The sign reads: "Need Help??? Use Megaphone or Bell!"

Sure enough, down the counter a bit - where near the point where the two lines meet - there was a megaphone and a bell. I wonder how many people opt for the former...

For all the silliness, it wouldn't matter if the food sucked. Fortunately, it doesn't. Twice, I've tried the - brace yourself - Buffalo Chicken Wing Burrito, which should come as no surprise to anyone who has shared a bar with me. It's good, and the wing sauce they have works well with the rest of the ingredients; I daresay it would beat what most places pass off as wing sauce.

A quick aside: If you happen to go, for heaven's sake, get the smaller size burrito. Not knowing any better on my first visit, I got the large. When I was finished, about 5/6 of the way through that beast, I couldn't eat another bite. And that was after untold contents spilled because I wasn't smart enough to keep the thing in its wrapper.

For me, the gem of the place was this:

It's called the Wall of Flame. I was heartened to see such wonderful, and ambulance-inducing, sauces. Just to the right of the Jack Daniels-looking bottle (more on that in a sec) is our old friend, Dave's Insanity Sauce.

In my ~~younger~~ stupider days, I bought a bottle of DIS from a German restaurant/novelty store/beer store back in the Lehigh Valley Mall. I couldn't wait to actually use it on my food, so I took a dab and rubbed it off on the front right part of my tongue. That spot burned - and I don't mean smolder, I mean unrecognizably charred - for a good 20 minutes. Not unlike this guy's experience.

It's part of a line of super-hot, XXX sauces, ones that do their damndest to give you space for a tongue ring. Many have catchy and humorous names.

But the Jack-looking bottle caught my attention this day. It may have the greatest product name in all the glorious history of American capitalism: Professor Phardtpounder's Colon Cleaner Hot Sauce, the Elixir of Capsaecin Extremus!

There's something to be said for a bottle of sauce who's biggest words jump out at you: COLON CLEANER.

And it fits in perfectly at Cal Tort, where it seems no gag is silly enough if it makes your day.

An important comment I hope everyone reads

2008-12-03T22:49:00.002-05:00

A comment notification popped into the old inbox this afternoon. In full:

You know, I've been seeing this for a year, and normally I don't respond to ad hominem attacks, but finally, in this year of change, I thought I'd set the record straight.

1. I was the starting guard for my JV high school basketball team.
2. I was a starting member of the tennis team for 2 years in high school.
3. I regularly played intramural sports through college and law school.
4. I taught tennis at the Special Olympics when I attended Cal.
5. I hosted the Tiger Woods Foundation Golf Clinic at Harding Park in San Francisco in 1999.
6. I play golf whenever I can, having taken up the sport in 1997 after watching Tiger Woods win the Masters. Something about "role model" and "opportunity" made me want to compete in a sport I had heretofore not identified with minorities.

If you bothered to read the entire transcript, you would understand the issues involved. If women are not provided a chance to engage in intercollegiate athletics, what does that say about our country? Everyone uses the old saw that "football, baseball, basketball" will be cut. The evidence hardly exists to support that conclusion, except perhaps in those rare instances in schools where the programs were marginal to begin with. The fact of the matter is, college athletics is more robust, and college campuses are richer, and our nation is stronger because of the passage and enforcement of Title IX.

Yes, sometimes choices have to be made. But the fact is, they have always been made in college sports. Prior to Title IX, campuses determined what mens' sports teams to support and which ones would be self-sufficient. Blaming Title IX for the demise of some mens' programs is an easy blame-shifter, rather than focusing on the fact that we are creating the same opportunity for camaraderie, teamwork, and excellence for young girls and women. I say that's a positive.

It certainly doesn't suck.

Sincerely,
Michael Yaki
Commissioner
U.S. Commission on Civil Rights

First, I'd like to offer sincere thanks to Mr. Yaki for taking the time to write his comment.

Here's the original post. I think Mr. Yaki missed the long-running gag, that people and things who committed silly acts got thrown into the ever-popular "You Suck" series. Other members of the club include current D.C. council member Marion Barry, electronics maker Sony, faux weight-loss product Lipozene, and the folks who compose the scrolling ticker on CNN.

So you are not alone.

All that being said, I stand behind what I wrote. While your accomplishments are numerable and commendable, particularly your involvement with Special Olympics, they do not qualify you to be in a position to be advising on aspects of intercollegiate athletics. I am as much qualified to be an instructional pilot at Delta based on my hours spent on Flight Simulator.

We agree on more than you may think. The growth of women's athletics in this country is a wonderful development. I pray that the WNBA stays afloat for as long as possible; they provide role models to a generation of girls that may otherwise find few of them.

Title IX, at its essence, is good legislation.

What it has become, however, is not good. It does suck.

See, the thing that blows my mind is this: You're essentially saying - and please correct me if I'm wrong on this - that collateral damage in men's sports is OK, so long as we provide opportunities for women's sports.

That, and your unfortunate choice of words in that hearing, are my primary concerns with you in your capacity as it relates to Title IX. (If you believe the Associated Press wrongly quoted you, please let me know and I will happily post that. I will leave it to our readers to decide.)

Here's what I want from our higher education system: Opportunities for all to participate in as many varsity sports as possible. These days, that is not possible. Wrestling programs are being eliminated at an alarming rate; other Olympic sports on the men's side have also been dropped frequently.

Much of this, as best I can tell, happens to bring a particular school in line with Title IX.

I have no concerns that the big three of football, basketball and baseball will be adversely affected. At the I-A/FBS level, football drives the athletic department; basketball helps out too; and baseball, in certain pockets of the country, is incredibly popular.

Instead, I worry about the minor sports. What if I have a son who runs cross country but goes to a school where the program is cut? What if he wrestles? Can I demand a campus wave off federal funding in order to support my son's team? I can, I suppose, but I'll be laughed out of the building (with a security escort, no doubt).

Let me say this as clearly as possible: My feelings have nothing to do with gender, race, ethnicity or even sport of choice. I will fight with all of my power to ensure that young women have a chance to benefit from athletics.

But what kind of a person am I if I don't fight with that same intensity for young men and their opportunities? Do they not deserve the same chance?

I want equality for all. Not some, or half, or most. All.

Title IX, for all the excellent intentions behind it, fails in that endeavor at this point.

-----

Mr. Yaki, you are always welcome here. Though I disagree most vehemently with your position and the way you present it, I believe in the power of free speech as well.

The difference between the East Coast and the West Coast

2008-12-02T22:39:00.003-05:00

Depending on where you live, one of the following statements will be shocking to you.

1. The drive from Bend, Ore., to Portland takes three hours. Using the most common route, you'll pass through 14 different towns.

In order - with an assist from Google Maps - it's Redmond, Prineville Junction, Terrebonne, Opal City, Madras, Warm Springs, Government Camp, Rhododendron, Faubion, Brightwood, Alder Creek, Cherryville, Sandy and Gresham. That's every place name, regardless of size, along the route.

On average, that's one town of some size every 12.86 minutes.

2. The drive from my hometown, Lehighton, Pa. to State College takes three hours. Using the most common route, you'll pass through 28 towns.

In order - again from Google Maps - Jamestown, Packerton, Jim Thorpe, Hudsondale, Beaver Meadows, Hazleton, Conyngham, Sybertsville, Hetlerville, Mifflinville, Lime Ridge, Lightstreet, Bloomsburg, Kaseville, Mooresburg, New Columbia, Rosecrans, Mackeyville, Clintondale, Lamar, Nittany, Snydertown, Hublersburg, Mingoville, Zion, Pleasant Gap, Dale Summit and Houserville. That's every place name, regardless of size, along the route.

On average, that's one town of some size every 6.4 minutes.

Recollections from a year ago

2008-11-26T01:01:00.003-05:00

It all started with an innocuous act: checking e-mail.

High in the inbox was a cryptic e-mail. Few details, an ongoing situation.

Somewhere in Miami, Sean Taylor had been shot.

The statement was brief, three sentences. Yet it was the beginning of an unwinding story, one that, a year on now, still stirs emotions throughout the region.

That first day was a blur. Checking for constant updates on the wire, the Washington Post, ESPN, the Miami Herald and SJ all while trying to accomplish a normal day's work.

The tragedy continued into the night as reports surfaced that he was fighting for his life.

I woke up the next morning, wondering what the day would bring.

"Sean Taylor passed away," my wife told me, first thing.

There's a strange duopoly to life as a journalist. My first instinct was to head to work, grab the recorded and head to Ashburn. This was a story that was going to affect a lot of people, even for a county as regionally diverse as the place I work. Unlike few other stories, this one mattered to Giants, Eagles and Cowboys fans, too.

The other side is that we're human, too. It was hard not to feel for the Redskins fans out there, the ones who had such deep emotional investments in the franchise. They were just outside the fence at the entrance to Redskin Park; a makeshift memorial had been set up there.

It was harder not to feel for the players and coaches to whom Taylor was closest. These were people that you sometimes shared a joke with or just chatted with in the course of doing your job; now, they were forced into inexplicable public grief.

The day was windy; I remembered that from seeing a Post video. Two workers came out and hung black bunting around the "Washington Redskins" sign at the front entrance.

The place was packed. I remembered reading about accounts of Pete Rose's final days as Reds manager, just as his gambling habit came to light. When the network news people showed up, one story said, it was never a good situation.

And that's how it felt. The media room at Redskin Park, small for a normal crowd, was SRO. The crowd flowed into the main lobby, where there were 30 or so more people. I counted.

I counted because there was ample time in between the players' availability. There were long periods of frustration - being cooped up with so many other unfamiliar people - punctuated by sheer sadness. Whenever a player came out to speak, their head hung low, they spoke softly and invariably wiped away tears.

It was then, and only then, that the full impact of what happened was felt. These were real people grieving. The facade of invincible NFL players was lifted in a most dramatic and tragic fashion.

Taylor's lockers in Ashburn and Landover remain untouched, encased in glass, a haunting reminder of loss.

A year later, it's still surreal.

Fail

2008-11-22T13:00:00.002-05:00

Hank, miffed at the fact that his pudgy snout wouldn't allow him to get all of the goodness left in the Fancy Feast can.

He tried, though, as evidenced by the tan residue on the right side of his nose.

Just because: The top five rock songs of all-time

2008-11-09T00:15:00.003-05:00

Not that you asked for it, but I've been thinking about my all-time top five - hey, the drives can be long and the mind wanders.

So, take it for what it's worth.

~~5."Far From Over," Frank Stallone~~
OK, OK, I couldn't resist as wiseass line to start off. But still, you can listen to the tune if you want. Not that I like it or anything. Nah, never. But I could've sworn the first time I actually heard it was in this video, where Martin Short and Christopher Guest try their hand at synchronized swimming.

But seriously, folks...

5. "Estranged," Guns 'n' Roses
Of course, it was nowhere near the hit that some of the other songs on Use Your Illusion I & II were. But there was something different about it, something foreboding. The structure was unconventional, the lyrics too. The song took twists and turns, from intense to mellow, from Slash's blistering guitar to a soft piano/guitar duet. Halfway home, there's a redemptive, more upbeat feel to the tune; then, in an instant, it turns intense again: I see the storm's getting closer/and the waves, they get so high/Seems everything we've ever known's here/why must it drift away and die. And it kicks ass over the final few minutes, leaving you feel like you've been on a roller coaster. The tune takes me back to when I was in high school; I had Use Your Illusion II forever in the CD player, always ready to hit this track. For some reason, I associate it with winter, sitting in my room doing whatever, wishing I was out skiing - back when I did such things - and thinking that the snow must be pretty sweet down at Blue Mountain. Oh well.

4. "One," Metallica
This was the best of times for Metallica, when their music had matured and got polished but before money mattered and they turned everything into a soulless, four-minutes-and-done abomination. The mournful opening bar sets the tone; the reserved music serves as a prelude to the intricate ass-kicking. The production is tight and the music is meaningful - to say nothing of the absolutely haunting video they shot for it.

3. "Dazed and Confused," Led Zeppelin
It's a damn shame Zep couldn't get any higher than three on this list. But, in one song, there's everything you've come to know and love about the band: Robert Plant's piercing vocals, Jimmy Page's mastery of the guitar, John Bonham's sometimes-melodic, sometimes-driving drumming, and John Paul Jones' incredible gifts of arrangement. It wasn't as popular as "Stairway to Heaven" - which, in retrospect, failed to demonstrate all that these four could do together - and for the life of me, I can't understand why.

2. "Under Pressure," Queen & David Bowie
I love how the music plays off the title. Several times, the music builds to a crescendo and someone cracks the valve to let off the steam, leading to the iconic bass line (later shat upon by Vanilla Ice). Each time, the steam seems to take a little longer to rebuild, but the release is no less satisfying. It's a wonderful song; at the times when the pressure is highest, if you will, the instruments and vocals work in such harmony that every last part just seems to fit perfectly. There's no needless verbosity or overwrought loudness. Love it, love it, love it. But not quite as much as...

1. "Nights in White Satin," Moody Blues
First off, I'm sorry you get the short version on the video; no poem reading or anything. Justin Hayward's vocals make this No. 1 for me. Each verse starts understated and dramatic and ends on a fever pitch. Add in the philharmonic to create instrumental cascades - something no band would consider doing today (and no, I don't count Metallica's stunt, a live album with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra nearly a decade ago). Unfortunately, lost in the video, is that the symphony provides a most dramatic ending after the poem. It's a series of peaks and valleys that leaves you exhilarated.

So there you have it... I know you'll think I'm batty, especially for the No. 1 song, but I can take it.

For my pal, Jerry

2008-11-07T19:15:00.002-05:00

I have a ton of respect for Jerry, who writes the hell out of a Hofstra-based blog with a really excellent name.

So I know he'll love the photo. (And no, he's not bitter. Why do you ask?)

And, sorry to disappoint you, but I was up in Fairfax talking to one of the wrestlers. Nothing to do with hoops. When are you going to write about Hofstra wrestling, anyway?

Back to normal

2008-10-31T19:20:00.003-04:00

I wore my Phils jersey to work on Thursday and kept my Nike Phils had on all day - flaunting our rarely-enforced dress policy.

While I hung out at home with my wife on Friday, we watched sporadic updates of the Phillies' parade on ESPNews.

Now, the parade and the speeches are over.

That means cynical Hustle returns. Enough of the sappiness.

Did it really happen? Honestly?

2008-10-30T00:38:00.003-04:00

Did I really see Brad Lidge drop to his knees?

Did I really see a pile of celebration envelope him?

Did I really see Charlie Manuel hold up a World Series trophy?

Did I really see this when I turned the channel?

Yes.

Yes I did. At least I think so.

Just the thought of the bottom of that pic - "Phillies defeat Rays, 4-3, win World Series" seems incomprehensible. Each time, each time I think of the momentousness of it, and what it means to so many people who mean so much to me, I'm forced to wipe away a fresh wave of tears.

For the first time in my life - or at least since I've been old enough to remember such things - I'll go to bed knowing that one of the teams that I cheer for is a world champion.

Congratulations to our own Philadelphia Phillies, who brought joy to a city that had long since given up on it.

Utterly incomprehensible.

Yet I saw it. I know I did.

2008-10-16T01:09:00.001-04:00

(Photo by Reuters via Yahoo)

What the Phillies' run means to me

2008-10-15T21:50:00.002-04:00

I've done a lot of bitching here. There's lots to complain about, at least from the perspective on the maroon La-Z-Boy.

Fundamentally, I like what I do for a living. I've seen a lot of things, been a lot of places and met a lot of people I would have otherwise never met or simply only dreamed of meeting. The downside, as we've talked about many times, is the loss of pure joy that sports once provided.

But, for the past few weeks, that joy has returned.

The Phillies are playing in October.

See, Philly's nine was the first team I ever loved. I can still picture the Mike Schmidt jersey pajamas I had as a little one; I always wondered why I never got to see them play in those jerseys, but that was back in the days when only road games were broadcast.

Schmitty was my first athletic hero, and the Phillies were the first pro team I ever saw play live.

I don't much remember their World Series trip in '80s; though through the highlights, I can picture Tug McGraw's iconic final strike.

I vaguely remember the '83 Series, when many of those same players from 1980 were older and wheezier. They lost that one to Baltimore.

A decade later, an equally wheezing lineup made it back, only to lose on Joe &$#!#@* Carter's homer.

Fifteen years later, after so many close calls - the Eagles' failed Super Bowl visit, a couple of Finals appearances by the Flyers and Sixers, all for naught - the Phillies are on the cusp of making it back.

It's 5-0 in Game 5 as I write this, though the Dodgers are threatening in the fifth. That's OK, because Los Angeles has a good team; to think that they're going to roll over in an elimination game is foolhardy.

Regardless of what happens, I'm going to be cheering the whole way.

And I haven't said that about any sports team in a long, long time.

Let's go Phillies.

Now this is how it should be...

2008-10-10T19:12:00.003-04:00

Driving to an assignment tonight, generally miffed that I'm having to miss the Phillies game.

But the long drive was made imminently more enjoyable by the fact that, for the third inning, I was able to enjoy Vin Scully calling the game, thanks to XM. I'm even happy to overlook the fact that he called this guy by this guy's name.

That's OK. It's a pure pleasure to listen to Scully on the radio. During the regular season, he gives way in the third inning and moves over the TV booth. So after the third, I did likewise and switched over to the Phillies' feed - just in time to hear another legend, Harry Kalas.

I know some of our regulars are nowhere near a radio signal that would carry a Kalas broadcast. So go search YouTube (hell, just click the link, I did the legwork) and enjoy one of the smoothest voices of our time.

That is baseball as it should be.

Was anyone really surprised that neither of the VP candidates tripped?

2008-10-03T14:32:00.003-04:00

Driving home from work, I heard Jeff Greenfield from CBS - a guy whose work I appreciate and a reporter I respect - talk about potential pratfalls leading into Thursday night's one-and-done vice presidential debate.

The key, Greenfield said, for Gov. Sarah Palin was to avoid coming off as clueless and out of the loop (that's my summary, not his exact words). Sen. Joe Biden could not afford any mean-spirited sarcasm or his occasional loose cannon-ness (again, my summary).

And he was absolutely right.

As it turned out, neither did.

I watched the debate with Greenfield's words in the back of my mind. And then it hit me: If he, a reporter, knew this, wouldn't it seem that the campaigns were aware of this as well?

Palin came off as in the know, though her continued unwillingness to expand on the topic at hand was annoying. Biden came off as a thoroughly respectable person, not one who reluctantly participated as if it were beneath him - though Palin was right in that Biden and Barack Obama seem more interested in badmouthing the Bush administration (which does deserve a fair amount of badmouthing) than showing us how they'd do it differently.

Which, I'm sure, is precisely what the campaigns wanted.

It's hard to imagine a scenario in which Palin, during debate prep, wasn't lectured over and over that she could ill afford to look squeamish or unprepared to answer. It's hard to imagine Biden, during debate prep, wasn't lectured over and over that he could not have a slip-up. As much as he may have wanted to, he simply could not blow his top.

It's like the venerable John Chaney used to say about his team: The guys he coached against were smart enough and their staffs were smart enough that they knew as much about his team he did. If his Owls couldn't rebound worth a damn, the opposition knew that. If they were turnover prone, those opponents would know that too.

If a guy like Greenfield knows these things about the candidates, you're damn tootin' the campaigns know it. Again, that's not a knock on Greenfield; but in the end, he's just a reporter.

The campaigns know better.

On Thursday, nothing was going to be left to chance.

CFB Viewing Report: Week 5

2008-09-28T09:03:00.002-04:00

While I can't put it in the list - as I didn't actually see a play - I was fortunate enough to hear the radio broadcast of my alma mater's win on Saturday, in their biggest test so far this season. You'll find a couple of gamers here and here, (thanks for making that second one so easy to find, guys) and the old 'Hounds are off to a quick 4-0 start. Such is the wonder of modern communication, hearing a low-powered radio station from several states away.

Just as amazing, one of the games I did take in was Lehigh-Princeton, broadcast by the Lehigh Valley's lone television station - which I grew up watching - whose feed was picked up by FSN Pittsburgh, thus making it available to me here in Virginia on DirecTV.

It was a wild, wild, weekend. I've got some serious thinking to do about the SJ poll. Anyway, on with it.

Alabama (beat Georgia 41-30)
Alabama-Birmingham (lost to South Carolina 26-13)
Akron (lost to Cincy 17-15)
Arkansas (lost to Texas 52-10)
Army (lost to Texas A&M 21-17)
Auburn (beat Tennessee 14-12)
Bowling Green (beat Wyoming 45-16)
California (beat Colorado St. 42-7)
California, Pa. (beat IUP 21-19)
Central Florida (lost to UTEP 58-13)
Cincinnati (beat Akron 17-15)
Clemson (lost to Maryland 20-17)
Colorado (lost to Florida St. 39-21)
Colorado State (lost to Cal 42-7)
Connecticut (beat Louisville 26-21)
Duke (beat Virginia 31-3)
East Carolina (lost to Houston 41-24)
Eastern Michigan (lost to No. Illinois 37-0)
Eastern Washington (beat Idaho St. 45-31)
Florida (lost to Ole Miss 31-30)
Florida A&M (beat Tennessee St. 28-21)
Florida State (beat Colorado 39-21)
Fresno State (beat UCLA 36-31)
Georgia (lost to Alabama 41-30)
Houston (beat E. Carolina 41-24)
Idaho State (lost to E. Washington 45-31)
Illinois (lost to Penn St. 38-24)
Indiana (lost to Mich. St. 42-29)
Indiana, Pa. (lost to California, Pa. 21-19)
Iowa (lost to Northwestern 22-17)
Kentucky (beat W. Kentucky 41-3)
Lehigh (lost to Princeton 10-7)
Louisville (lost to UConn 26-21)
Marshall (lost to West Virginia 27-3)
Maryland (beat Clemson 20-17)
Miami, Fla. (lost to UNC 28-24)
Michigan (beat Wisconsin 27-25)
Michigan State (beat Indiana 42-29)
Minnesota (lost to Ohio St. 34-21)
Minnesota State (beat Winona St. 35-32)
Mississippi (beat Florida 31-30)
Morgan State (lost to Rutgers 38-0)
N.C. State (lost to South Florida 41-10)
Navy (beat Wake Forest 20-17)
Nebraska (lost to Va. Tech 35-30)
Nevada (beat UNLV 49-27)
New Mexico (beat New Mexico St. 35-24)
New Mexico State (lost to New Mexico 35-24)
North Carolina (beat Miami, Fla. 28-24)
Northeastern (beat UC-Davis 27-10)
Northern Illinois (beat E. Michigan 37-0)
Northwestern (beat Iowa 22-17)
Notre Dame (beat Purdue 38-21)
Ohio State (beat Minnesota 34-21)
Oklahoma (beat TCU 35-10)
Oregon (beat Wazzu 63-14)
Oregon State (beat USC 27-21)
Penn State (beat Illinois 38-24)
Pitt (beat Syracuse 34-24)
Princeton (beat Lehigh 10-7)
Purdue (lost to Notre Dame 38-21)
Rutgers (beat Morgan St. 38-0)
South Carolina (beat UAB 26-13)
South Florida (beat N.C. State 41-10)
Stanford (beat Washington 35-28)
Syracuse (lost to Pitt 34-24)
TCU (lost to Oklahoma 35-10)
Tennessee (lost to Auburn 14-12)
Tennessee State (lost to Florida A&M 28-21)
Texas (beat Arkansas 52-10)
Texas A&M (beat Army 21-17)
UC-Davis (lost to Northeastern 27-10)
UCLA (lost to Fresno St. 36-31)
UNLV (lost to Nevada 49-27)
USC (lost to Oregon St. 27-21)
UTEP (beat Central Fla. 58-13)
Virginia (lost to Duke 31-3)
Virginia Tech (beat Nebraska 35-30)
Wake Forest (lost to Navy 20-17)
Washington (lost to Stanford 35-28)
Washington State (lost to Oregon 63-14)
West Virginia (beat Marshall 27-3)
Western Kentucky (lost to Kentucky 41-3)
Winona State (lost to Minnesota St. 35-32)
Wisconsin (lost to Michigan 27-25)
Wyoming (lost to Bowling Green 45-16)

What I'll remember about Yankee Stadium

2008-09-24T21:30:00.003-04:00

Yankee Stadium is gone, and we've heard from many that all that's left of the place is our own memories. Here are mine:

The first time I ever went there was in college, in rather unusual circumstances. A friend of a friend found out he was being laid off one day; an anti-celebration celebration was quickly organized. I was in on the plan early in the afternoon when my friend Brion called.

"Hey," he opened. "What're you doing tonight?"

It was college. I was a poor student. The answer was obvious.

"Nothing," I told him.

"Wanna go see the Yankees?"

What, a bar run? Didn't we get MSG in Bethlehem, or was that just in Lehighton?

"No. Actually going to see them."

Well, OK then.

A few hours later, I was in an old Caravan with several other guys, bound for the Bronx.

We drove over the GW Bridge and down the Major Deegan, took the exit and parked pretty close. We managed to get a group of tickets together behind the first base line and watched now-disgraced Roger Clemens pitch for New York; Kenny Rogers - never much friendly so it's hard to call him disgraced - threw for Texas.

I remember walking through the tunnel and getting my first glimpse of the field; it was overwhelming. Even if you despised the Yankees, it's hard to not be amazed at Yankee Stadium. As I walked in, my mind flashed through all of the players that had played on that field: Gehrig. DiMaggio. Mantle. Larsen. Jackson.

Hell, it's the House that Ruth Built.

All of them played on the patch of field before me. Wow.

The second time I went back, I was with my parents and we saw Milwaukee. I had to think a little bit; interleague didn't begin until I started working (I know, because I covered the Phils' first-ever interleague game against Toronto), and I believe I was still in college when i went to the second game. So Milwaukee would've still been an American League team.

That time was just as special, since it was the one time I visited Monument Park in left field.

They can build it bigger and they can build it better - as the new Yankee Stadium is bound to be - but they can't build history into it.

I saw two inconsequential games, both in an inconsequential part of the season. But I saw them, and I saw the stadium.

I can't wait to tell my grandkids about it. Old Yankee Stadium will sound as ancient to them as Shibe Park did to me.

CFB Viewing Report: Week 4

2008-09-20T22:33:00.002-04:00

A full day of unadulterated football. So it's going to be a long list...

Alabama (beat Arkansas 49-14)
Air Force (lost to Utah 30-23)
Akron (beat Army 22-3)
Arizona (beat UCLA 31-10)
Arizona State (vs. Georgia)
Arkansas (lost to Alabama 49-14)
Army (lost to Akron 22-3)
Auburn (lost to LSU 26-21)
Ball State (beat Indiana 42-20)
Boston College (beat UCF 34-7)
BYU (beat Wyoming 44-0)
Central Florida (lost to BC 34-7)
Central Michigan (lost to Purdue 32-25)
Chadron State (beat Colorado St.-Pueblo 32-0)
Colorado State-Pueblo (lost to Chadron St. 32-0)
East Carolina (lost to N.C. State 30-24, OT)
Florida (beat Tennessee 30-6)
Florida Atlantic (lost to Minnesota 37-3)
Florida International (lost to South Florida 17-9)
Florida State (lost to Wake Forest 12-9)
Fresno State (at Toledo)
Georgia (at Arizona St.)
Georgia Tech (beat Miss. State 38-7)
Indiana (lost to Ball St. 42-20)
Indiana State (lost to No. Illinois 48-3)
Iowa (lost to Pitt 21-20)
Iowa State (vs. UNLV)
Kansas (beat Sam Houston St. 38-14)
Louisiana Tech (beat SE La. 41-26)
LSU (beat Auburn 26-21)
Miami, Fla. (beat Texas A&M 41-23)
Michigan State (beat Notre Dame 23-7)
Minnesota (beat Fla. Atlantic 37-3)
Mississippi State (lost to Ga. Tech 38-7)
Montana (beat UC-Davis 29-24)
N.C. State (beat East Carolina, 30-24, OT)
Navy (beat Rutgers 23-21)
North Carolina (lost to Va. Tech 20-17)
Northern Illinois (beat Indiana St. 48-3)
Northeastern (lost to Syracuse 30-21)
Northwestern (beat Ohio 16-8)
Notre Dame (lost to Mich. St. 23-7)
Ohio (lost to Northwestern 16-8)
Ohio State (beat Troy 28-10)
Penn State (beat Temple 45-3)
Pitt (beat Iowa 21-20)
Portland State (lost to Wazzu 48-9)
Purdue (beat Cent. Michigan 32-25)
Rice (lost to Texas 52-10)
Rutgers (lost to Navy 23-21)
Sam Houston State (lost to Kansas 38-14)
SMU (lost to TCU 48-7)
Southeast Louisiana (lost to La. Tech 41-26)
South Carolina (beat Wofford 23-13)
South Florida (beat Florida Intl. 17-9)
Syracuse (beat Northeastern 30-21)
Temple (lost to Penn St. 45-3)
Tennessee (lost to Florida 30-6)
Texas (beat Rice 52-10)
Texas A&M (lost to Miami, Fla. 41-23)
TCU (beat SMU 48-7)
Toldeo (vs. Fresno State)
Troy (lost to Ohio St. 28-10)
UC-Davis (lost to Montana 29-24)
UCLA (lost to Arizona 31-10)
UNLV (vs. Iowa St.)
Utah (beat Air Force 30-23)
Utah State (beat Idaho 42-17)
Virginia Tech (beat UNC 20-17)
Wake Forest (beat Florida St. 12-3)
Washington State (beat Portland St. 48-9)
Wofford (lost to South Carolina 23-13)
Wyoming (lost to BYU 44-0)

It's Friday night...

2008-09-19T19:12:00.002-04:00

In now 12 years of covering football, there seems to be one constant: The weather takes a turn south starting with Week 3.

When I was on the computer this afternoon, the Weatherbug temp seemed to be stuck around 74. This was in mid-afternoon when, in the not so recent past, we were much further up the thermometer.

I have long sleeves on for the first time since I don't know when. It's just a simple button-down shirt, but still.

I'm out in Manassas, and left the house at an appropriate time to be here. In order to avoid the frustration of Friday traffic, I took several back roads that - on more than one occasion - made me think I was back in Carbon County driving to a game. But such is the wonder of local knowledge and GPS.

On the way, I stopped in our Manassas office to take care of some quick office work, nothing major. As I walked outside, the sun was dying to the west, the air was cooler and the streets - normally much busier - were near silent.

I felt alone. It's a common feeling on days like this at a time of year like this.

The start of everyone else's weekend is simply a continuation of our workweek; obviously you know this when you sign up for this job, but the reminders, though infrequent, can be painful.

My wife's out at happy hour, getting just a little more visiting with our dear friends Andrew and Rebecca, who trek back to Phoenix tomorrow. Occasional commenter Donna says she's headed to Old Town.

And here I am.

I have no doubt that, some years down the line, young Drake will develop a love of Duck football and maybe he'll think he can cover them. I hope I'll be there to give him a lollipop and distract him from such silliness.

Eight minutes to kickoff. I guess I'd better start paying attention...

Is anyone home?

2008-09-18T17:11:00.002-04:00

(A political rant below, if any of you are averse to such things.)

How's this for a stunner? Democratic veep pick Sen. Joe Biden (D-Del.) told Good Morning America that it's "patriotic" for the wealthy to pay more taxes that, in the Obama-Biden administration, would be used to help offset tax cuts for the middle class.

Good Lord... where to begin.

How about with semantics? It's not patriotic. Patriotic is believing, truly believing, what our country stands for and doing what you can, as a citizen, to support and promote those ideas. Patriotism is something that all of us, left and right, can agree on: Jefferson's principles about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Respecting the rule of law, even if you don't agree. Supporting our troops and all the sacrifices they make to protect us. That's patriotism.

Patriotism is not policy.

All that, of course, says nothing of the exaggerated idea of wealth redistribution. My wife and I are not rich; barring an unexpected lottery win, we will not be rich. So this whole Robin Hood ideal is quaint, but barely realistic.

Let's imagine for a moment Obama gets elected and this policy is enacted. Now, other folks are penalized to give me a few more bucks to throw around. Let's say, for instance, I decide to save that money. As an average citizen, I put the money in the bank - which is probably a large national or regional bank, like PNC, BB&T or Bank of America - which it uses to help make loans to others at much higher rates than what I get back. That makes money for the bank, which is run by wealthy individuals who get a cut of that money in either salary or bonuses. (In truth, we belong to a small credit union, yet I don't think the people running the credit union drive Kias.)

Let's say, for instance, I'm your average guy and want a shiny new techno-gadget or a new game for the 360. What am I going to do? I'll take that money to Best Buy or Circuit City and buy something. That money, in turn, helps the bottom line (however incrementally) of billion-dollar international retail outlets, which pay their executives a great salary and good bonuses because I decided I wanted something shiny from Best Buy or Circuit City. Moreover, the manufacturer gets a cut of that, possibly taking the money out of the country and making rich people even richer.

Let's say, for instance, I want to get ahead on bills. That means more money headed into the direction of the following: Verizon Wireless (Verizon's market capitalization: just shy of $93 billion); Washington Gas (market cap: $1.73 billion); Cox Communications (a privately-held company, but in 2005 made a sale to another company that brought in $2.55 billion); DirecTV (owned by Liberty Entertainment Group - market cap: $12.31 billion); XM Radio (now a part of XM-Sirius - market cap: better than $3 billion); and Carmax (market cap: $3.35 billion).

So, no matter which way I turn, I'd be giving that money right back to a large corporation, which are mostly run by rich people, who - per this policy - gave me the money in the first place.

Wealth redistribution is a myth, particularly in a capitalist society.

But here's what bugs me most about Biden's idea of patriotism: The money from the rich folks is supposed to come to me.

I live in a decent suburban house with a wonderful wife (happy birthday, honey) and two cats. I drive an Explorer (though I wish I drove a Stratus so I could exclaim it like this guy) and have enough to indulge in a newfound wine passion. Yeah, money is tight, particularly after we bought the house; but I can make it for however long it takes to pay off said Explorer.

So why, exactly, does Biden want to give money to me? I live a good life with few complaints.

Why not give the money to people who really need it? Like the lower class or the lower-middle class, people who struggle to pay bills on a regular basis. People living below the poverty line. The homeless.

There are people out there who are a lot worse off than me, through no fault of their own. Why are they not at the front of the line? Why me? I could use the money, but I don't need it. Lots of other people need it. Why don't they get consideration?

Oh, right. We don't pander to the lower class.

My bad.

RIP, Whiskey's

2008-09-16T17:22:00.002-04:00

Mark passed along the sad news today: One of the venerable watering holes in Ketchum is no more.

He lamented the fact that he had spent so much time in that place. Mine was severely limited, as I've only been in the Hailey-Ketchum area once in my life.

But the one time I made it there, Whiskey's was on the itinerary.

A few years ago (Really? It's years with an 's'? Seems like yesterday...) we were in town for Mark and Maya's wedding. We got a brief taste of the town during our stay: The bars that I remember were Whiskey's, one with a lot of college kids and a third that several of us had (liquid) lunch in.

So I'm bad with names. It's the experience that counts.

Anyway, I do hope Whiskey's rebounds, though at the moment it's in shambles. When Mark talked about all the time he had spent there, I flashed back to JP McGillicuddy's in Bethlehem. It was a good-sized restaurant right across the street from our football stadium; they had 70-some beers on tap and I did my damndest to get through the whole stock. And I have yet to have wings that compare to theirs: huge and never lacking for a lip-smacking (and gastrically potent) hot sauce.

Apparently it was done in by a dual problem of letting minors in and not paying taxes. Not a good combo. The owner started a new place, PJ McGrady's, which apparently is still kicking on Bethlehem's south side, near Lehigh.

Whiskey's came to a more abrupt end (though one can only hope it gets rebuilt). That makes it all the more sad.

Here's hoping Whiskey's rises from the ashes. In a couple decades, I'm going to need a place to buy my nephew a beer.

CFB Viewing Report: Week 3

2008-09-15T23:04:00.002-04:00

A little late, I know. And the viewing was a little limited because our dear friends Andrew and Rebecca were in town; we took Saturday to enjoy the evening with them.

We miss them dearly since they've moved to Phoenix, and spending time with them was way more important than me catching a game in the Utah-Utah State game.

And as I was typing, news flashed on screen: "(14:23) B. Westbrook up the middle for 1 yard, TOUCHDOWN."

Still making my way through the list, then this: "(10:34) (Field Goal Formation) N. Folk 47 yard field goal is GOOD, Center-L. Ladouceur, Holder-B. Johnson."

Sigh. "(8:59) B. Westbrook up the middle to DAL 34 for -1 yards. FUMBLES, RECOVERED by DAL-J. Ratliff at DAL 33."

Sigh. "(4:40) M. Barber right tackle for 1 yard, TOUCHDOWN."

We'll see what happens...

Anyway, on with it:

Arizona State (lost to UNLV 23-20, OT)
Buffalo (beat Temple 30-28)
BYU (beat UCLA 59-0)
Cal (lost to Maryland 35-27)
Chattanooga (lost to Florida State 46-7)
Clemson (beat N.C. State 27-9)
Duke (beat Navy 41-31)
East Carolina (beat Tulane 28-24)
Florida Atlantic (lost to Michigan St. 17-0)
Florida State (beat Chattanooga 46-7)
Georgia (beat South Carolina 14-7)
Georgia Tech (lost to Va. Tech 20-17)
Illinois (beat La.-Lafayette 20-17)
Iowa (beat Iowa St. 17-5)
Iowa State (lost to Iowa 17-5)
Lousiana-Lafayette (lost to Illinois 20-17)
Maryland (beat Cal 35-27)
Michigan (lost to Notre Dame 35-17)
Michigan State (beat Fla. Atlantic 17-0)
Minnesota (beat Montana St. 35-23)
Missouri (beat Nevada 69-17)
Montana State (lost to Minnesota 35-23)
N.C. State (lost to Clemson 27-9)
Nebraska-Kearney (beat Western St. 44-15)
Northwestern (beat So. Illinois 33-7)
Notre Dame (beat Michigan 35-17)
Navy (lost to Duke 41-31)
Nevada (lost to Missouri 69-17)
Ohio State (lost to USC 35-3)
Oregon (beat Purdue 32-26, 2OT)
Penn State (beat Syracuse 55-13)
Purdue (lost to Oregon 32-36, 2OT)
South Carolina (lost to Georgia 14-7)
Southern Illinois (lost to Northwestern 33-7)
Syracuse (lost to Penn State 55-13)
Temple (lost to Buffalo 30-28)
Tulane (lost to East Carolina 28-24)
UCLA (lost to BYU 59-0)
UNLV (beat Arizona St. 23-20, OT)
USC (beat Ohio State 35-3)
Virginia Tech (beat Ga. Tech 20-17)
Western State (lost to Nebraska-Kearney 44-15)

Italics indicate a non-Division I game.

Uh, Carter Beauford's really good

2008-09-13T01:55:00.002-04:00

After the sad death of Dave Matthews Band saxophonist LeRoi Moore, I was reminded of a video I had seen months before. It wasn't of Moore or anything, but another of the guys in DMB: drummer Carter Beauford.

The guy's incredible. I say that as someone who played as a kid and prayed frequently that one day I'd wake up to a Tama rage cage with double bass, more toms than I knew what to do with and cymbals hanging from the rack by a chain. (Mick Brown totally had the right idea.)

As proof, I'll offer up this doozy. Apparently he's making some sort of documentary or instructional video and he plays along with the studio version of Ants Marching. Since the camera's exclusively on him, he can showboat a little (which he does) and play much more intricate fills than he does on the released version (which he does).

The clip's on Google video, so no embedding here, sadly. But here's the link.

The first minute is pretty tame; the nature of the song pretty much determines that. But at the minute mark (:55, actually), Beauford starts getting into it. The standard beat on the song is pretty easy, but at :55, he fluffs up some of the fills with some syncopation and an off-beat accent on the partially open hi-hat.

It's not easy. Drumming is about rhythm, and the fill from :55 to 1:03 is anything but. It's intentional, of course, and impressive to watch a pro pull it off.

He cools it out again for a little while. At 1:45, he makes use of the full complement of equipment by using the small 'splash' cymbals. While it's hard to tell there, those little guys can make an interesting sound.

At 1:49, his fill is quite difficult, giving you a quick hit on the snare, chilling on the hi-hat and coming back with the crash, right on time.

When they pull back for the wider shot at 2:33, you can see an odd-shaped cymbal in the upper right; it looks like it's inside out. It's called a China, and adds a different kind of sound, as you can hear. He comes back to it again later.

The fill at 2:58 might be my favorite. It utilizes the low toms by themselves for effect, which you don't often see in pop music. Usually they provide more of a rhythmic background (think of the trippy bridge in 'Welcome to the Jungle', here at 3:24), so it was nice to see them stand on their own.

A few seconds later, my favorite technical piece: He uses his right hand to take down the toms and the splash cymbals. Speaking from my own lack of expertise, that would be something I'd need two hands to do. Beauford needs only one, and is pounding on a cymbal on the left with his other hand. But then again, that's why he's a world-famous musician.

The fill coming out of the bridge at 3:42 is also impressive. Quick hands are a necessity.

At 3:51, he rides the toms up and down. I've always thought that was underused in pop music; it seems like you can get a wonderful effect when you go against the grain like that. Out of the fill, he puts the China on display, and you can really hear the difference from a normal crash.

The showboating's at 3:58. Nothing hard about hitting cymbals the way he does, but it does make for a more flashy performance. And that's really what it's all about, right?

Even so, it's an impressive display of musicianship. Bravo, my friend.

Killing time on a Friday afternoon...

2008-09-12T14:05:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, I walked downstairs in my normal evening attire; shirts are only for the most important of occasions, such as the chance of me dribbling dinner down my chest.

"Go get some clothes," my wife urged. Her fear, she said, was that unexpected guests might pop by. All I'd have is my evening, uh, best.

Her fears were realized this week when I was relaxing after a short day. I was awaiting her arrival in my typical at-home attire when the doorbell rang. Now what?

I didn't have a shirt on. When I answered the door and found out it was a traveling salesman, I didn't care that I didn't have a shirt on.

Long story short (and believe me, it'll be a lot less painful for you, dear reader, than it was for me): His company, a new startup, was in the neighborhood and was looking for ~~suckers~~ homeowners who needed a renovation and they were offering free estimates and would I be around Saturday and if that wasn't convienent they were also around in the weekday evenings because they know how challenging everyone's work schedule can be.

Sigh.

The guy was all about signing people up. I was all about not being signed up.

I felt like I gave him plenty of outs. Did he have a brochure I could show my wife, we would discuss it and get back to him? Nope, he just ran out of brochures. So, for the second time, would I be around Saturday and if that wasn't convienent they were also around in the weekday evenings because they know how challenging everyone's work schedule can be.

In the meantime, Grace the cat takes advantage of the open door and runs outside. Still shirtless, I chase after her and shoosh her inside.

Silly me. I thought perhaps my frustration of having the cat run outside while several minutes into this high-pressure pitch was evident on my face. It wasn't. He didn't miss a beat, even as I scolded Grace.

My sigh or general look of disinterest would've been a clue to a more adept salesman. But, well, you do the math.

My final lifeline was to ask for a phone number. My wife and I would discuss it and I would be in touch if we wanted to pursue their offer. Well, he said, we're still a pretty new company and don't really have a phone number yet, but would I be around Saturday and if that wasn't convienent they were also around in the weekday evenings because they know how challenging everyone's work schedule can be.

"Then we're not interested," I said. "Take care." And I closed the door.

Ten minutes of my life I won't get back...

I don't mean to dismiss the guy or his job; it's got to be a tough job. But how, exactly, does he expect to be taken seriously when he shows up out of nowhere selling a product we don't need from a company I've never heard of that doesn't even have a phone number? And then I'm supposed to be sympathetic when he doesn't take a veiled 'no' for an answer?

Sorry. Next caller.

But hey, if you can make some kind of a credible sales pitch, maybe I'll put a shirt on for you.

-- OVER AT THE WINE BLOG, we're rapidly coming up on our centennial wine. I can't believe I've made it that far. And I can't believe just what that says about me... (cough cough L cough U cough cough hack cough S cough cough H hack cough, clears throat)

Anyway, I signed up with this outfit called BlogBurst which takes your blogs and distributes them to various media outlets that sign up for them. When one of your blogs goes through, it gets posted on a little side area of the page.

I thought it made sense to sign up the wine blog, since that's more focused than this one, which is just a whole mess of crap.

But the latest stats from BlogBurst about who put one of my snippets on their page: Chicago Sun-Times 845, Reuters 23, Computer Shopper 1.

That's exactly what the Windy City needs: To be exposed to another blowhard.