About two weeks ago, I started sensing a numbness and then a weakness in my legs. I rationialized it all to a side-effect from developing a severe backache after peeling potatoes (go figure, but I think I mused about this over at my other blog, Le Food News). However, things got worse to the point where I often felt I would collapse to the ground and not be able to get myself up.

Then I chanced upon an ESPN segment about the 70th anniversary of his July Fourth speech in which Lou Gehrig proclaimed himself "the luckiest man on earth." As the program then tracked his deterioration into death at 37 from ALS (Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis), I could see the same symptoms in my muscular degeneration To say the least, I was scared to death.

Fortunately, a voice inside me took me back to the day that my cardiologist (who treats me for my family history of arrythmia) told me I should start taking Lipitor to reduce a "risk factor." Of course, my LDL was perfectly normal at the time, but he told me he himself took 10 mg a day, so I figured, "Ok, I’ll give it a try." My LDL went from about 90 to 48 (at which point he told me it was "too low").  But now ,a year later, my voice inside reminded me that he also had warned that the drug could have side effects on the liver and might produce "weakness in the legs."

Might? Wow, I thought I was on death’s doorstep, so I immediately–without consulting any doctor–stopped taking Lipitor. It’s been three days, and my legs seem improved but still somewhat numb in my right thigh.

I went online and found various forums in which people compared Lipitor to having ALS. One man even said his legs and muscles remained weak after quitting the drug for six months, though I think he was taking a much higher dose at 80 mg. I also saw that many sites recommended taking something called CoQ10, a coenzyme (whatever that is) that Lipitor seems to destroy. I immediately ordered a two-month supply.

Folks, I can only conclude that the best heatlh care reform is to watch carefully what you do and what you ingest. I was looking Lou Gehrig’s fate in the face and then realized that my doctor had steered me down that path. From now on, I’ll do my research in advance.

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An airline in China will now begin selling standing-room-only seats.

You heard that right–standing room only, but with a catch.  You will get a safety belt fastened around your waist, a minor concession over subway and bus travel.

Great, so no one can use the aisles to go to the bathroom? On the plus side, I guess it would prevent terrorists from getting to the cabin.

With this "innovation," China’s Spring Airlines will now become Coffine Airlines.

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Also spract Obamathustra.

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The Orlando Magic have now featured seven-year-old Gina Marie Incandela four times singing the National Anthem, and four times they’ve won.

Remarkable since Gina was born with autism and couldn’t even pronounce words. Her parents enrolled her in the University of Central Florida, where speech therapists used music to coach her into speaking. It worded magic (there’s that word again), and especially so after she heard Leanne Rimes sing "The Star Spangled Banner." She copied that recording, learned it by heart, and you can now hear the results in this video:

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When news flashed through our office yesterday morning that Manny Ramirez had tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs and been suspended 50 games, I shouted, "Now, we know how he did it all these years." His exposure as a phony leaves only one big man standing–Albert Pujols. Will his Emperor’s Clothes come off next?

Typical of the recently exposed, Manny was quick to issue an apology–for taking medication for a "private" medical issue that his doctor prescribed but which he (Manny) and presumably the doctor didn’t know violated Major League Baseball’s drug policy. Oh, yeah, and for $24 I’ll sell you Manhattan.

In a press conference, General Manager Ned Colletti praised Manny for taking "ownership," especially since it wasn’t his fault because he didn’t know what the prescription was!

Manager Joe Torre, whom I used to respect, spent way too much time babbling on and on about, well, you know, everyone is human and we all make mistakes.

Victor Conte, who used to steroidize Barry Bonds (who with Roger Clemens, of course, would never knowingly touch the stuff), quickly pointed out that the Mannian substance, HGC or human chorionic gonadotropin, is used to restore sperm count and bring one’s gonads back to life after abuse of steroids.

Now, we know the sad truth–Manny Ramirez had no balls!

Sadly, we also know that the Dodgers are full of crap from head to toe–from owner Frank McCourt to GM Colletti to Manager Torre.

Manny can’t play again until July 3, but the Dodger brass, instead of realizing what a sham their team and organization have become, will no doubt plaster the town with billboards and radio spots starting in June announcing, "Only two weeks till Manny returns!" "Only five days till Manny-mania fills the city!"

Barf, puke. Let’s hope they’re irrevocably in last place by then, and Manny can’t even reach the warning track when he’s off steroids. (Of course, HGH is available to all, and baseball looks the other way.)

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This past week another Potts-like performer strode to the stage, but instead of silence she was accorded open boos and cat calls based solely on her frumpy (some would say ugly) looks. the rendition of I Dreamed a Dream from Les Miserables instantly turned boos into applause and transformed 47-year-old Susan Boyle into an international celebrity. Reportedly, Simon Cowell himself is now working on a contract for her.

Watch it all here and share in her joy and accomplishment.

Here’s her appearance on the Today show:

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The makeshift fan memorial at the entrance to Angel Stadium:

Close-up of the fan memorial:

Video tribute before the start of the game:

A stadiumwide moment of silence with teams lining the diamond, followed by, "Let’s play ball."

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Then, gone, shattered, all feelings of innocence destroyed…maybe forever.

The third day of the season, a young pitcher struggling to make the Los Angeles Angels’ roster pitches like a bulldog for six straight innings, holding the hated opponent to zero runs. After the game, he tells everyone that he finally feels like he’s a major leaguer.

Then, early the next morning after celebrating with friends, that same pitcher is slain by a vehicle speeding through a red light, the driver drunk, driving with a suspended license from a previous DUI. Two of the pitcher’s friends die, a fourth clings for his life in a hospital.

His parents, at least one of whom–his father–attended the game, lose their only child. A cold ring from the phone awakens the family to the most horrible news in the world–a child has been taken before them.

Baseball is no longer the innocent sport of summer. Nick Adenhart is gone, and here just hours before he pitched, I was predicting "the bum" wouldn’t last two innings.

It’s so easy to have opinions in baseball. Opinions are hard to shatter when there’s no wake-up call, but once a loving, proud family is shattered through a terrible tragedy, baseball fades into the dark shadows of reality. The warm glow of opening day is now but a nightmarish eclipse.

Can we fans ever recover? Ever attend a game with youthful abandon, gorging ourselves on hot dogs and beer, and thinking, "At last, spring is here and we are renewed"

With time, probably. Time, they say, heals all wounds, but even when wounds heal, often there are scars.

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It’s hard to be patriotic when the man in the White House more closely resembles Hugo Chavez than he does Abraham Lincoln, whom he arrogantly claims to resurrect, but the Los Angeles Angels tried. God bless them for still believing in mom, apple pie and Americana.

The return of baseball, especially on a mid-70s, beautiful day like it was in Southern California yesterday, always brings back a revival of my spirits.

Football (betting on it anyway) may be more popular, but there’s a reason baseball is and always will be the National Pastime. And it’s best when it’s played on grass in daylight, which is what made yesterday so special.

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The first 1,000 buyers will get theirs for 100,000 rupees, or less than $2,000. After that, the price skyrockets to $2,200 or so. Now, and here’s the clincher, if you want air conditioning to help you survive the heat and humidity of Mumbai, or anywhere else in India for that matter, the price soars to $3,300. Still, there’s sweetheart financing available for the Nano–just $60 down and then monthly payments. I wonder how big the payments are and how long are the contracts.

Tata’s stock closed down after the preview of the Nano to the media and others. Oh, well.

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