2009 Fantasy Football Draft

15 minutes until my NFL Fantasy Draft. Team created and named? Ck. Draft list complete? Ck. Richard Nixon avatar uploaded? Ck. We're good to go people, we're good to go!

A Quote derived from Thomas Hardy

Over at the blog for American Spectator magazine, a commenter left behind a Thomas Hardy quote that really spoke to me. I searched online for the complete text and came up empty, so I left a comment on that blog asking for help. Once they were sure I wasn't a liberal troll MaryLouise went out of the way to track down the information.

Here's the passage from Tess of the d'Urbervilles she found for me. It can be found in either chapter 14 or 15 of the novel, and reads as follows:

She philosophically noted dates as they came past in the revolution of the year; the disastrous night of her undoing at Trantridge with its dark background of The Chase; also the dates of the baby's birth and death; also her own birthday; and every other day individualized by incidents in which she had taken some share. She suddenly thought one afternoon, when looking in the glass at her fairness, that there was yet another date, of greater importance to her than those; that of her own death, when all these charms would had disappeared; a day which lay sly and unseen among all the other days of the year, giving no sign or sound when she annually passed over it; but not the less surely there. When was it? Why did she not feel the chill of each yearly encounter with such a cold relation? She had Jeremy Taylor's thought that some time in the future those who had known her would say: "It is the--th, the day that poor Tess Durbeyfield died"; and there would be nothing singular to their minds in the statement. Of that day, doomed to be her terminus in time through all the ages, she did not know the place in month, week, season or year.**

The idea struck a chord with me, as it echoes a thought that's been with me for years. It would be nice to have it articulated, as I've stumbled with it time and again, but I agree the full passage is far too unwieldy for a good axiom. So let me try again, borrowing from Hardy:

Each year we pass the anniversary of our own death, and are given no sign or thought of its importance; but it is there, sly and unseen, waiting for our introduction.

A few days ago was the anniversary of my Grandpa's death. Did September 3rd mean anything to him in the years before his life ended? His wife, my Grandmother died on July 4th. She celebrated the holiday 84 times before that day; did she ever feel the tug of fate on those happy days?

Hardy and I can't be the only people who've thought of this, right?

Obama's Speech to the Children

The press is abuzz with the backlash against the President's plan to speak live to schoolchildren across the nation. Sure, I'm aware of Bush 41 made a similar speech in the early '90's (and was met criticism from the Left) but let's be real: I love George Herbert Walker Bush, but a great speaker he was/is not; the very notion of anyone fearing a Svengali performance from him is laughable.

Locally, Green Bay, Elmbrook, and West Bend Districts have decided against showing the speech. Other areas, such as Milwaukee, have handed off the controversy down the chain of command, making it a school by school, and sometimes class by class decision.

I have every confidence, especially in the wake of the furor, that the speech will be full of cheer leading rhetoric and devoid of substantial content, left/right or in-between. My original, very vocal complaint was the list of activities the White House asked accompany the speech. Yeah - uh, CREEPY. Don't quote Kennedy's "Ask Not" blurb at me - Kennedy asked you to serve your country, not the Oval Office.

Like I said on FB, if my kids are going to worship some dingbat with an inflated ego, dammnit, it's gonna be ME :)

If their schools decide to run the speech, I won't pull them out, but I will read the speech first and if necessary, offer my (gentle) opinion. He is (sigh) our President, and so I will not disparage him openly in front of the kids.

I want to point out something though. This has all been blown out of proportion, but I won't lie and say it doesn't tickle me a bit. Putting that aside, let's go back to that line about the Left going after Bush 41's speech and failing to rouse the public's ire.

To quote the Journal-Sentinel.

The difference is, this time, it's resonating.

"It's not about the speech itself," [UW-Madison political science professor] Franklin said. "It's the right's ability to seize on it and the ability to build on a narrative about Obama."

You'll see and read a lot of polls that predict doom for Obama and this Congress. I concur with the assessment for Congress - there should be a lot of Dems fearing for their job on the Hill, although much can change in a year - but I don't have much confidence (yet) in tossing out Obama. The luster has worn off, but the Cult of Personality may resist change, just to avoid admitting they were duped in '08. And much, MUCH can happen in three years to resurrect a campaign.

But here's where Obama IS failing. Bush was hated. Hated, like no other since Nixon. If he had announced a similar speech the left would have gone apeshit, the right would reflexively have argued against them, and Everyday Joe would have shook his head at the fools and gone on with his day.

Obama is not hated by most people. Any yet, the Right goes apeshit, the Left responds, and Everyday Joe seems, more and more often, to side with the right. This was true in derailing the health initiatives, and today it's causing large school districts to tremble.

Remember, Obama won Wisconsin, and took Milwaukee handily. And yet now, on something as simple as a televised speech, the public speaks loudly enough to cause MPS to shun a decision and take it on a case by case basis? Wow.

That, and not any poll number, leads me to question the effectiveness of The White House here in late summer 2009. Every compromise costs him support on the far Left (anyone read the Left's scathing attacks on his escalation in Afghanistan?) Every controversy increases the right's confidence, and the publics trust in what they say. And every overblown, waste of time dogfight chips away at the center that is the be all and end all of any electoral victory.

If, IF, that continues into 2010 and beyond, sayonara.

* * * *

Green 'Czar' Van Jones is another clumsy example of the White House's summer. This guy is a 'former' 911 Truther, or else someone dumb enough to be 'duped' by a 911 Truther; someone who called Republicans "Assholes" in a public forum (I blame Rahm's culture of vulgarity for instigating that one), he's done a public impersonation of Bush on Crack , and said only white kids shoot up schools.

Quote: "You've never seen a Columbine done by a black child. Never. They always say, 'We can't believe it happened here. We can't believe it's these suburban white kids.' It's only them. Now, a black kid might shoot another black kid. He's not going to shoot up the whole school."

Fine for Chris Rock to say on stage, but not appropriate for a public official.

Get rid of him. He's a liability, and a PR disaster that draws even more attention away from Obama's goals (oooh, on second thought: let him stay).

The bigger question is: why haven't they dismissed him already?

UPDATE: Someone in the WH must read this blog (here's hoping they don't put me on one of their 'watch' lists.) He's now resigned his post.

Home

Home from work and ready to relax. Kids are asleep, Lisa out w/ friends. Time to fire up today's Badger game on the DVR!

Glee and Project Runway

Just FYI, I finally got around to posting about YaYa's 7th birthday last October. If you'd like to look at it, check it out here.

* * * *




God Bless High School Musical for making musicals palatable to the public again. Lisa and I watched the (DVR'd) pilot for Fox's Glee tonight, and it will be a must-see for us when the series begins next week.

Glee is a show about a teacher who takes over his school's glee club, while fending off pressure from his wife to quit and get a better paying job. His club is a motley assortment from the "sub-basement" of the school's social order, but they all are very talented. Not that it matters to the insane cheerleading coach, or the pot smoking footall coach, both of whom via the Glee Club with disdain.



Glee is a dramedy with some stylistic nods to The Office. At times it's laugh out loud, and I don't recall any scene that went by without a smile spreading across my face.

Check it out. I think you'll like it.

* * *

I'm still not digging this season of Project Runway too much. It still rocks, just . . . not as much. At least they had the good sense to get rid of the two odd designers to open the season, and the no-talent Mitchell in the latest episode. Can you believe Mitchell? What an absolute, no talent "I got in via pure B.S." designer.

And we've jettisoned Models of the Runway. Yawn.

"By the [encore] even the band's critics might have been hard-pressed not to sing along"

Here's the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel's critique of Creed's show. Look's like they agree with my assesment. I don't normally repost complete articles, so to sooth my conscience feel free to visit the JS version here.


Reunited Creed adds a dose of humility to its bombast
By ERIK ERNST

Posted: Sept. 2, 2009

During the late '90s and early 2000s, Creed might have been the most polarizing act in rock.

Often derided by critics, the band was also undoubtedly successful, selling millions of albums and riding the top of the charts with a mix of over-polished, post-grunge rock. Detractors mocked the overly serious posturing of their songs and pomposity of frontman Scott Stapp, while fans flocked to the band's spiritual and inspirational music.

Five years after Stapp's personal demons led to the band's split, Creed has reunited. At its Bradley Center show Tuesday night, it was apparent that the comeback had nothing to do with offsetting the critics. This hits-laden affair was staged for the fans.

With all the arena-rock excess the band's four original members and touring guitarist Eric Friedman could muster, Creed's 95-minute set was a stream of nostalgia, reconciliation and fist-pumping.

Fireballs on the large stage warmed a small audience that filled about a third of the venue at the first notes of "Bullets." With a closely shorn haircut replacing his formerly long locks, Stapp flexed his arms as his distinctive baritone voice filled the room. He was, at times, as animated and overdramatic as always, but this was a new, more humble Stapp.

"Allow us to reintroduce ourselves," he said before the set's lone new song, "Overcome." He also thanked Milwaukee for being the first city outside of the group's native Florida to play the band on the radio.

During "Say I," he pounded his chest, but couldn't hide a smile as he crouched to shake fans' outstretched hands.

If Stapp's voice is Creed's most recognizable element, Mark Tremonti's guitar forms the music's consistent structure. Even Tremonti's usual rock-guitar scowl broke into a grin as he added flourishes to the band's biggest hit, "With Arms Wide Open," and joined Stapp in a celebratory shower of sparks during "My Sacrifice," a song whose lyrics were autobiographically reframed for the reunion.

By the three-song encore that ended with the pyrotechnic crescendo of "Higher," even the band's critics might have been hard-pressed not to sing along.

Led by vocalist Doug Robb's manic energy and charm, Hoobastank performed a 40-minute, bone-jarringly loud set that ranged from the thumping rock of "Born to Lead" to the power balladry of "The Reason."

New Zealand-bred Like a Storm opened its 30-minute set of techno-infused hard rock with a didgeridoo solo.

Creed - Bradley Center (Milwaukee) September 1st

[If you're in a hurry, here's a summary of this post: Creed rocked.

If you're killing time at work and Solitaire is passe, settle in for a spell.]

I did wind up taking my Godson/nephew to the show, but I was wrong about it being his first concert. Jonah's seen the Warp tour and been to the Rave several times, so this was old hat for him.




I asked my Dad if he could drive us to and from the venue in exchange for Jonah's ticket, since I literally didn't have the $20 for parking. He agreed. We were angling to avoid Hoobastank, so we told him to be at my house at 7:30, the start time on the tickets. Being my father, he was nearly twenty minutes late, then drove 25 mph the whole way to the Bradley Center. I didn't get angry - a gift horse and all- but we didn't arrive until well after eight.

We arrived in time to hear the opening act finish, then waited and watched a ball game in the lobby for fifteen minutes until the lights dimmed. Whew. Things had worked out after all.

And then Hoobastank took the stage. Dang nabbit.



Creed had once again given another small band some much needed face time, which is cool, but I'm really not a fan of having two opening acts. Plus I felt that the Fates were giggling, and had made damn sure that Hoobastank and I collided.

But, they were pretty damn good. They were MUCH harder than what I expected (granted, my whole knowledge of their catalog was "The Reason") and had a ton of energy on stage. The singer has a filthy mouth, uttering F bombs and whatnot in every sentence, so I felt right at home, but he had an annoying habit of thanking the crowd after every song, and there were A LOT of songs. All told, they racked up a forty-plus minute set.

Cool trivia: among their many songs were "Another Brick in the Wall" by Pink Floyd, which was the band on Jonah's shirt, and the theme from "Ghostbusters."



During the wait for Creed to start, I surveyed the crowd. It wasn't a great turnout for an arena of that size. It was an awkward sized group: too many people to comfortably use a smaller venue, but small enough to make the Bradley Center seem conspicuously half-full. It was largely male, although there were a fair share of wives, girlfriends and groupie wannabees.

Jonah was probably the only person there under 21, and I'd estimate most of the crowd was between 30 and 45, with the majority of that group in their early thirties. In other words, the people who would have been in college or grad school when Creed hit the scene. After a six year layoff and no new material on the shelves, I wouldn't have expected to see many youngin's there.

I should mention that we were on the floor, stage left, maybe 120-150 feet from the action, and had a great line of sight. Thanks again Ashley!

Creed came on loud and hard with "Bullets", complete with pyrotechics and shooting flames. Egads, a modern rock band with a great guitarist, memorable lyrics, a first rate frontman, and solid hooks.




Welcome back fellas, I've missed ya.




A few songs in a security guard came up to us. He'd been gradually letting various Hot Chicks into the standing room area that was fenced off directly in front of the stage. I must have looked especially sizzling, because he gestured for me to join them. Nice!

For the rest of the concert we were around forty feet from the stage, and could have gotten a good ten feet closer if we'd bothered.







But from where we stood not only did we have a clean shot of the stage, we were much closer to the secondary stage where Stapp would venture out to do his thing.









[Outside of their new single Overcome, which fit seamlessly into the rest of their catalog, the concert was all material from their heyday. Was the concert just about nostalgia? Well, if you define that as a band playing their hits, the crowd singing along to every word, and everyone having a blast, then yeah, it was. Who cares? But I think they were priming the pump, getting the old fans back into the groove. I imagine they'll tour again after the October release of their album, and hope to add in a new generation of fans at that time.]





One thing I've always loved about Creed is that they don't try to F with their songs on stage. What you hear live is by and large what you hear on the record, and I'm MORE than ok with that. However, on the sentimental crowd favorite "With Arms Wide Open", a song written "eleven years ago now", Stapp did a nice little tweak to the vocals. I hope someone out there will youtube that video, as I think its worth another listen.






"With Arms Wide Open" really got the crowd involved, and the band followed it by finishing the set with "My Sacrifice". There was obviously going to be an encore, but for me this was the high point of the show. I was singing along with the entire crowd, arms in the air, head banging, 150% in the moment.





Cue the usual wait for the encore, and still pumped up, I was screaming and chanting with the rest of the crowd. Creed came back on and did three more songs, the first of which was "One".



"One" is a song I don't like very much at all, and yet perversely I find myslef jamming to it and reciting the words whenever I hear it. And yes, I had my arms in the air, index finger raised. I'm a dork.

The concert closed with "Higher", which again had the crowd in a frenzy.









And that was that. I asked Jonah if he'd enjoyed it and he said he had. In his opinion Hoobastank put on a strong show, and he really seemed to enjoy Creed, singing along on several songs.

As for the band, I have more respect for guitarist Mark Tremonti's skills than I did in the past. Stapp was much toned down from the last time I saw him, but his voice and stage presence were still right up there, and throughout the show he seemed genuinely happy.

One neat aside: with the cameras and spotlight off him Stapp crouched down on the secondary stage, took a deep breath, wiped his brow, and shook his head at the audience with a look that said "man, this is harder than I remember." It was a great, very human moment.



It was a great show, and quality time with my nephew. As for Creed, like I said before: Welcome back fellas. Welcome Back.

Creed

just got back from the creed concert with my uncle was a good show. - Jonah

Thanks for going - Me

Glad you had fun, Creed puts on a good show. glad you got moved up too...that's always awesome! - Lisa

Sounds like a good time.... - Grandma J

The Domino Men

A century and a half ago a drug-addicted Queen Victoria sold the citizens of London into slavery, to be harvested at will at some future date by a being called Leviathan. In exchange for this great bounty the House of Windsor was guaranteed control of Great Britain for all time. Since then a secret division of the civil service, known as the 'Directorate', has waged war against the crown in an effort to win back the future of their city.

Enter Henry Lamb. Once a flash-in-the-pan child star he now works as a filing clerk for the government. After his grandfather, a former Directorate agent, falls into a coma he is drafted into the war. What follows are London's final, precious days of freedom before the deal is completed. And only Henry, a mysterious woman named Estella, and the Prince heir Arthur are there to stand in its way.

The author of The Domino Men is Jonathan Barnes, writer of last years The Somnambulist. This is a fine easy read with very little to recommend it to the ages. I enjoyed the development of Arthur and found Henry a sympathetic sort, but occasionally Barnes falls prey to the British desire to shove a comedic moment down your throat at every turn. It's also readily apparent that this isn't the end of the tale. Many of the characters from The Somnambulist return here, and very little is done to develop the repeat characters nor identify their fates.

Recommended for readers with a liking for sci-fi and humor.

Whoo-hoo! Creed Tickets!

I've been a fan of Creed for years, and had the opportunity to see them in person in '01 or '02 (a Christmas present from Lisa). I was bummed when I heard they broke up, happy when I heard they reunited, and sad when I realized I wouldn't be able to afford to attend their concert here tomorrow.

Still, I had a gut feeling that fate was about to bestow some luck on me, once I realized I had off for the night of the concert. Why have it on a Tuesday night, if not to allow the universe to bless me with tickets?

Tonight my wonderful co-worker Ashley M stepped forward to save the day! She won tickets for the show but wasn't interested in going. Remembering that I was a fan, she gifted me the floor tickets, which sold for $85 each, for a mere $5 apiece!



Tentatively, it looks like I'll be taking my nephew to the show. Hoobastank is opening, and I couldn't care less, but seeing as it'll be his first concert I'll probably suffer through it. :)

[And never fear, you know I'll blog about it]

One thing that sucks, and seems downright stupid, is that their album doesn't drop until October 27th. I'm annoyed that I won't know all the songs before I go, since half the fun is singing along.

There is one song that's been released: Overcome.



Don’t cry victim to me
everything we are and used to be
is buried and gone
now it’s my turn to speak
it’s my turn to expose and release what’s been killing me.
i’ll be dammed fighting you it´s impossible impossible!
say goodbye with no sympathy!

I’m entitled to overcome
completely stunned i´m numb (?)
knock me down throw me to the floor!
there’s no pain i can’t feel no more.
I’m entitled to overcome
overcome!

finally see what’s beneath
everything i am and hope to be
cannot be lost.
I’ll be dammed fighting you
you´re impossible impossible!
say goodbye with no sympathy!

I’m entitled to overcome
completely stunned i´m numb (?)
knock me down throw me to the floor
there’s no pain i can’t feel no more
I’m entitled to overcome
overcome!

overcome!

You’ll never know what I was thinking before you came ‘round
take a step take a breath put your guard down
I cannot worry anymore of what you think of me
I may be crazy but I’m buried in your memory

I’m entitled to overcome
completely stunned i´m numb
knock me down throw me to the floor
there’s no pain i can’t feel no more
I’m entitled to overcome
overcome!
(repeat)

I may be crazy but I’m buried in your memory

The first day of the 2009/2010 School Year

Today (Monday) was the first day of school for my girls. We had intended to re-adjust them to a school schedule over the last few weeks, but near constant sleepovers stopped that dead in its tracks.



Well, last night YaYa had trouble sleeping, and came downstairs at midnight crying. She claimed to have seen a ghost in the hall. It's not as crazy as it sounds, as Lisa claims to have 'felt' and heard spirits here. Even if true, I reckon the ghosts are no danger to us. My family has owned this house for nearly 70 years, and the only people I know to have died here are my great-grandparents (one of whom died in this very room).

Around two, when I went to bed, I found our 'ghost' - LuLu was not only awake, but having a grand time playing in her room. [edited for language].

Surprisingly, despite those events they woke up more cheerful than their parents, and the school day went well.



Not so a subsequent trip to the grocery store, where LuLu and YaYa fought over seating in a car cart - the automobile shaped grocery carts used when shopping with little kids. Well, enough was enough. I abandoned the cart and dragged the girls home, kicking and screaming. No number of "sorry's" could sway me - after many years, I have converted to Lisa's hard(er) line stance with the kids.

Later, I did make the trip, successfully, with Smiley and YaYa (Lu wanted to stay home.)

In the late afternoon I decided to clean the fish tanks and the turtles enclosure. With the sun shining and a moderate temperature on hand, I decided to give Franklin some time to roam around outside.





Smiley was drafted to stand guard, and he radiated happiness and fun while doing the job. Keep in mind, Franklin can move. No one ever believes me because a) he's a turtle and b) he plays it close to the vest until you grow complacent. But I turned my head to give my attention to YaYa and turned around to find him gone. Another 30 seconds and he'd have been completely under the porch, the only real means of escape from the yard.



I put the kids down SUPER early, at 5:30, but they were exhausted. I think LuLu was fast asleep in a few minutes, with Smiley following soon after. YaYa is stubborn, and pitter-pattered around for awhile.

All in all, a good day, as most of mine are. ;)

Is Michael Jackson Alive? Nope. But this video claims he is.

It's started folks - Michael Jackson sightings! This video allegedly shows Michael hopping out of the coroner van that was bringing his "body" to the morgue. With all the secrecy and delays in his burial, stuff like this was bound to surface.

I'm big fan of these odd obsessions, even though I'm 100% a non-believer. In the '80's I read Is Elvis Alive? (His name is misspelled on his tombstone. Gasp!) and avidly listened to the enclosed tape of "Elvis" discussing his literal lfie after death. Good times, good times.

It's said MJ's life mirrored Elvis' - did they both fake their own demise??? ;)



h/t

UPDATE: A German TV crew has taken credit for the hoax

Fat Pencils, Stuffed Peppers, The Who, and the Meaning of Life

It's been a long but not unhappy day so far. For starters I went to bed around 1:30, which was pretty stupid considering I had to work in the morning. Worse yet, I woke up every ninety minutes or so. Although I had no problems falling back asleep each time, it SUCKED.

Then I went to work, which went ok. Afterwards I was sent on some last minute school shopping, since the girls go back to school tomorrow. We had put their school supplies on layaway six weeks ago, paid it off and took it home last week, and patted ourselves on the back for being responsible. We were done. Except it turns out we weren't. No matter how hard you try, something always slips through the cracks. It helps support my notion of (what I believe is) the true meaning of life:

Life exists for one reason, and one reason only: to F' up your day. Still, it's much better than the alternative.

I was looking for 'fat pencils', wide pencils demanded by LuLu's teacher. When I was a kid we used normal sized pencils with rubber triangle holders, but in 2009 the sophisticated first grader must have a 'fat pencil' to master the art of writing.

Walgreens didn't have them. Neither did Target, Wal-Mart, K-Mart, Dollar General, Office Max, or Family Dollar. I'm told they're sold out throughout the city. It figures. But I did manage to score a cool pair of shoes for Lu at Wal-Mart for a mere ten spot. Hot dog!

Sidenote: I've always thought it counter-intuitive that wider items are easier for LITTLE hands to handle, and narrow widths easier for BIG HANDS. It even hold true in baseball, where peewee bats have monster handles, and adult versions narrow ones.

Sidenote #2: My mother-in-law dropped off a stuffed pepper for me. Yummy! Thanks Jeanne!

Anywho, here's a little Who for no particular reason whatsoever. This is Baba O'Reily, performed live in what I presume is the '70's. Check out Townsends energetic persona. It's a hoot.




Out here in the fields
I fight for my meals
I get my back into my living
I don't need to fight
To prove I'm right
I don't need to be forgiven

Don't cry
Don't raise your eye
It's only teenage wasteland

Sally ,take my hand
Travel south crossland
Put out the fire
Don't look past my shoulder
The exodus is here
The happy ones are near
Let's get together
Before we get much older

Teenage wasteland
It's only teenage wasteland
Teenage wasteland
Oh, oh
Teenage wasteland
They're all wasted!

New Music

I'm listening to Creed's new single "Overcome" for the first time, and it rocks.

Molecules, crooked union leaders, hunting, and my Mom

Ouch. I got home from work an hour ago and my foot is killing me. Stupid heel spur. It's the first time in weeks it's bothered me, but of course it has to return at full strength.

* * *

I was at my Mom's apartment this morning while she watched Ted Kennedy's funeral, and she asked if I could pick up a copy of Ted Kennedy's autobiography when it drops in September. I sighed and rolled my eyes, but agreed. She soon grew angry and mentioned the '83 letter I wrote about here, which apparently makes me obligated to his clan forever, and about how she can't believe I'm no longer a fan of the Kennedy's.

Eh, I'm not a fan of He-Man and Thundercats anymore either. Things change.

As I wrote about when Michael Jackson died, people should be allowed to grieve for who they want, in whatever manner they see fit, for a respectable amount of time. Therefore, I don't pass judgement on anyone broken up over his death, although it is difficult to sit through saccharine comments like this on Facebook:

[The dark skies during the service were] so apt. And, if what I saw was lightning in the background, it was as 'tho the heavens were also making their own statement about Ted Kennedy's death....

* * *

Speaking of the honored dead, Saturday would have been Michael Jackson's 51st birthday and some local stations were playing his music in heavy rotation. Kudos to them. YaYa and Smiley were jamming to "Black or White" at the local Dollar General . . .

* * * *

Ex-police union leader Brad Debraska has been convicted of two felonies. He forged a memo he used in a lawsuit against the city, which seems a stupid thing to do, even as crimes go. Debraska was a major player in the union for years, and I grew up seeing him on TV defending officers whenever something went wrong.

Through Job Prior I had some minor dealings with him and his son (who was sent to prison some years back), but I doubt the man even knew my name.

* * *

First the union members at Mercury Marine vote away their jobs. The company calls their bluff and starts the move to Oklahoma. Cue the workers asking for a re-do of the vote, but the union blocked them, citing union by-laws. It is, of course, more important to follow the bylaws than save the 1800 jobs at stake.

Well, now a few days later, it looks like the union leadership has bowed to pressure. They've agreed to a second vote, but I'm not sure it'll make a difference. They might have cut their own throat last week. We'll have to wait and see.

UPDATE: In this morning's paper Mercury Marine killed the vote, saying the deadline for an agreement has passed.

* * *

Next week, ten year olds in Wisconsin will be allowed to carry guns during hunting season for the first time. The current minimum hunting age is twelve. The theory is that introducing children to hunting at an earlier age will help preserve the state's long and ingrained hunting tradition.

I've never been hunting, and have no real desire to go and shoot something that isn't shooting back at me. It's hypocritical, as I'll gladly eat cow and poultry, but there you have it. I guess if you told me to shoot a cow, I could do it, provided I was going to consume the animal. Sadly, there's not much of a Cow Hunting season in these parts.

That being said, I would like to accompany someone hunting in the next decade or so. I'm not sure I'd even carry a gun, but I acknowledge that it's something of a rite of manhood here. I would like to live the experience and camaraderie at least once in my lifetime. Perhaps with Lisa's Uncle Tim or my friend Jose?

* * *

It looks like the British did sell out the victims of Lockerbie for financial considerations. Quoting the Times of London:

The British government decided it was “in the overwhelming interests of the United Kingdom” to make Abdelbaset Ali Mohmed al-Megrahi, the Lockerbie bomber, eligible for return to Libya, leaked ministerial letters reveal.

Gordon Brown’s government made the decision after discussions between Libya and BP over a multi-million-pound oil exploration deal had hit difficulties. These were resolved soon afterwards.

Unbelievable. Disgusting, to tell you the truth.

* * * *

A hoard of Viking silver, buried in British soil for a milenium, has been unearthed. Valued at a million pounds, it was found by a father/son team of treasure hunters and turned over to the authorities. Kudos to them on their remarkable find.

* * * *

Finally, using an Atomic Force Microscope, researchers at IBM have taken the first ever photograph of a single molecule. The carbon rings and the positions of the hydrogen atoms in the molecule can clearly be seen.

Get this: the space between the carbon rings of the molecule are roughly a million times smaller than the diameter of a grain of sand.

You're probably used to seeing illustrations of a molecule that look like cleverly arranged tinker-toys. Now I imagine my children's biology books will feature this:



Congrats to IBM, and the crew responsible!

District 9

District 9 shows us a world where, in 1989, an alien craft appears over the skies of Johannesburg. Inside is a race of aliens, soon derisively called "Prawns" by humans, who are on the verge of starvation. Why the craft journeyed to Earth, why its controls seem to have failed, and why its crew was in such poor condition is never known.

Mindful of their apartheid past, the government of South Africa extends a welcome to the aliens, but there are immediate conflicts with mankind. The aliens have no respect for private property, have as much propensity for senseless violence as their human counterparts, and soon make a nuisance of themselves. In response to complaints from all quarters, the camp is isolated. By the time the movies opens in the present day, it has descended into a virtual ghetto - District 9.

Enter Wikus van de Merwe, a mild-mannered family man employed by an agency overseeing the camp. During a tour Wikus is infected by a solution manufactured, in secret, by Prawns. When the solution alters his body chemistry Wikus becomes a vital but expendable commodity to the militaristic corporation that controls the District.

He escapes their horrific lab and becomes a wanted man. With no other option he must flee to the area he once helped rule - District 9, and hope that there is someone, human or Prawn, who can help him before it is too late.

District 9 is a very good film, and if not for a last half hour that turns into a standard shoot 'em up, a great one. Despite director Peter Jackson's assertion that apartheid did not overtly factor into his vision, the choice of Johannesburg resonates with history. Here is a segment of the population - albeit one of a different species - that is segregated, viewed as inferior, and treated at times like cattle.

But Jackson isn't trying to vilify a nation. Having the demure Wikus as the protagonist was a grand choice. It reinforces the idea that whatever good/evil the camp spawns is not the byproduct of superhuman archetypes (despite your standard Hollywood Evil Corporation), but of banal everyday folks just doing their job.

And another important aspect of the film: while they deserve none of the more vile treatment they receive, the Prawn are hardly a public relations dream. Jackson shows Prawn that are prone to senseless violence, theft, stupidity, and vice, and they surely don't paint themselves in a good light to a planet that welcomed them in their darkest hour. In other words, the Prawn are nearly human in temperament.

And that makes the conflict between the two species all the more poignant.

3.4 out of 4.

Ginger on her birthday

Just to fend off any questions about the Rocky Balboa impersonation Ginger's putting on, she spent the day before her birthday at my parent's place. While there Lulu, on rollerskates, decided Ginger could 'walk' with her whle holding hands. The inevitable result: a face-first fall onto the cement.

Oh, and she came home with blue hair, because Smiley had tossed blue chalk into water that was later poured over her head.

Sigh. Hey - free babysitting, ya know? ;) Naw, I'm kidding. Lord knows it coulda/woulda happened whenever.

The full text of my March 30th Journal Column

Yes, it snows in Wisconsin. Get over it.
By Daniel Slap--

Posted: Mar. 30, 2009

This past Christmas, we received a Christmas letter from a friend and native Milwaukeean now living in Louisiana. She wrote about experiencing her first hurricane and of the expense and terror of packing her belongings into the back seat of a car and evacuating out of state.

It was bad, she admitted. Real bad. But, she went on, at least living in Louisiana she doesn't have to worry about snow anymore. It wasn't a joke.

Mind you, she's got a point. Why, I can't count how many times I had to evacuate the family to Minnesota because of snow flurries back in '07.

Seriously folks, it's water. We should be used to this by now - even the unwelcome spring snowfall, like we had over the weekend. Aside from an increased risk for drivers, the stuff stopped being a legitimate threat to our species around the time fireplaces were invented.

(Oh, I know there are dangers involved in shoveling. But if yours truly has a heart attack clearing the sidewalk, don't blame the snow; blame the 300-pound guy trying to move it).

I'm no snow junkie. I don't snowmobile, ice fish or do anything in winter more involved than walking to and from my car. And as someone who cavorted around town for 12 years in a Ford Aspire, with all of about 20 horsepower at my disposal, trust me, I hate driving in snow.

But I live in Wisconsin. Cursing the snow here is like living in Chicago and moaning about corrupt politicians; it's part of the landscape. There's no use crying over it.

You wouldn't know it from following the news. There's storm team coverage, emergency alerts and live reports for a day before and after a snowfall. Show me a lawsuit, and I'll show you two lawyers. Show me a snow flurry, and I'll show you five reporters predicting disaster.

I can't fault the media. They're just making a living, no different from you or me. And as Journal Sentinel columnist Tim Cuprisin has pointed out, there wouldn't be so much storm coverage if people weren't interested in watching it (even if they only watch it to complain).

I agree. I just think, in this era of specialization, we should cater to the audience a little more. There should be one channel for old hands - one that tells us how many inches to expect and which schools are closed - and another for people who, until now, apparently had no idea they lived in a northern climate.

Such people must exist. I know this, because having lived here more than a week, I do not need to know that "plows are out," that "roads can be slippery" or that it is important to wear a hat and gloves in the cold.

Maybe they can hold a séance and ask my great-grandparents why, after leaving Poland and traveling across an ocean and half of North America, they chose to stop in a cold and snowy city like Milwaukee.

Really, Gramps, would it have been that hard to push on to San Diego?

Susan Boyle and Body Deodorant

Oh Dear God. I was mistakenly directed to the Huffington Post. where I had the joy of reading about lesbian vampire sex. Ugh. Why do liberals feel compelled to to spoil everything by adding vampires to the mix?

Anywho, I am embroiled in a teeny-tiny Facebook dispute. I was the first commenter on a Redbox post. (As I have some measure of class, I did not write "First!!!!").

The post for the national DVD rental company linked to a People.com poll asking readers whether or not Robin Williams, in drag as his Mrs. Doubtfire persona, should be hired to play Susan Boyle in a movie bio-pic.




My opinion? The poll is insulting and inappropriate for a nationwide, publicly traded company. It'd be one thing if they were The Onion or National Lampoon, but they're not. Satire and comic insults aren't their business, and they come off looking like a childish ass. As for People.com, well, I reckon they've been a lost cause for years.

I posted my opinion and was greeted with labels like "sensitive" (snort), thin-skinned, etc. Whatever. Anyone who knows me I have a potty mouth and a brain as filthy as a stadium men's room. But there is a time and place for everything, and the time for joking about a woman's appearance, well, it sure ain't in print on a corporate post.

Idiots.

* * * *

I had meant to post the following, but I'll give credit where it's due: Bucko beat me to the punch. With that said, may I introduce you (again) to Aspray, the all-over body deodorant.



I'm not even buying this as 100% legitimate yet, as I smell a rat (no pun intended). But some sites are calling the commerical the "most offensive" they've ever seen. Really?

More than the women's razor commercial advertising a trim bush (literally)? More than the myriad commercials for herpes medicine, tampons, irregular bowel yogurt, foot fungus cream, and just about anything involving a political candidate? Really????

Hey look. If this is real, I'm all for it. In theory it's no different than feminine deodorant spray, right? Heck, I've always wondered why we only put deodorant on our pits, when there's a few other choice spots that need attention. On the male spectrum I'm on the low-stench side, at least according to my lady, but I could still use some help at times.

No shame in my game, honey.

A trip to the pet store

I've already forgotten why I took YaYa and Ginger to the pet store, but I think it was just to waste some time and look at the animals.



While we were there we spent a lot of time in the bird room, where both Ginger and I stood fascinated by all the noise and color. YaYa, not so much. I sent Lisa this pic.



She wrote back. "NO BIRDS!"

"Xmas?" I texted.

"NO BIRDS"

"Xmas??"

"NO BIRDS. EVER."

"Ever is a long time," I wrote. We'll see.

We checked out the kittens



then ventured into the small mammal room, the one that holds bunnies, ferrets . . . and mice and rats. I know most people think it's a joke when I say I despise rodents. How can I be cool with spiders, insects (which spiders are not), reptiles, birds, etc, but hate a little mouse? Mister, it's a feeling so strong it's at the DNA level. After a few minutes in the room I was starting to feel ill, and no amount of saying "they're in cages" could stop it.

"We have to go," I said.

"Why?" said Yaya, her eyes twinking.

"We have to go. Now."

"But Dad, I want a pet rat. Look how cute his thick little tail is . . "

"Enough!" I said, and left the room. YaYa followed, laughing. Evil kid.

Anyhow, after I recovered it was on to the reptile room, where we 'saved' a turtle that had fallen on its back, then moved on to the fish.





Ugh, just writing about the rats a minute ago gave me the heebie-jeebies. Ugh. Eyes of the Devil, they are, Eyes of the Devil.

I did kind of get back at YaYa. Later I made her trim such ginormous weeds that had sprouted behind the trampoline.

Ted Kennedy, Dead at 77

I returned home from a camping trip today to discover that Ted Kennedy had passed away of cancer at 77. The news was expected and Ted lived a long life, so I'd imagine his family was prepared for the loss, but all the same my sympathy to them on his death.

In the wake of his passing I dread the next week of political grandstanding. In the media, on the Hill, and in blogdom he will be eulogized, crocodile tears will spill, and a man who spent his life immersed in a modern mythology will be interned to the sound of the same tales.

* * * *

You know, I actually had a correspondence with Senator Kennedy around Christmas of 1983. My Mom had written him on my behalf, stating my adoration of JFK. In response came what I'm sure was an oft-recited reply, along with several items of JFK memorabilia.

(Dave Powers, a longtime friend of JFK, did him one better. Powers sent me a personal letter along with 8X10 Black and White photos of the President and actual magazines from his Presidency)

It must have been hard for Ted by the time my letter arrived. There he was a twenty year veteran in the Senate, and most people - even a boy in Wisconsin - thought of him only in terms of his genetic connection to his brothers.

Sad really, but let's also be realistic: Ted got his job because of his name and he remained in the Senate 40 years because of the same (would anyone but a Kennedy have politically survived Chappaquiddick?).

If, in the end, he will be remembered primarily for his family, it seems almost fitting.

* * *

Since I began this post I've caught wind of two articles predictably urging the passing of health insurance reform bills in his honor. "Do it For Ted!" is one headline, opportunistically jumping on the perception that Kennedy was a champion of universal health care.

Not so fast. He like to talk a lot about the subject, and he did make efforts to have various programs passed, but I've heard doubts about his committment to the idea. I'm not quoting a Republican, but rather Jimmy Carter.

Three years before their dust-up in the '80 election Carter grew frustrated and resentful of Kennedy. It seems - and I'm referencing Carter's own autobiography here - that the Congress was closer than ever to passing health insurance reform and initiating universal coverage when Kennedy hit the brakes. He would not support the bill, nor would he encourage others to do so.

It was not HIS bill, you see, and it was important, ever so important, that Kennedy have his name associated with any such reform. He backed away from the bill, and it died a quiet death.

* * * *

This has gone on too long already. Regardless of his politics (which I detest), and some of his highly questionable personal actions, I wish his soul rest. Goodnight Senator, and may God bless.

Ted Kennedy

Just back from camping and found out Ted Kennedy died. As he was a fellow human being, RIP, but . . . "the end of Camelot" says CNN??? Ugh. Cue a solid week of crocodile tears and eulogizing on the Hill, in blogdom, and in the MSM.

Unions, Libya, State Fair, and a Penniless Dick

Here's an anagram for my name (full first and last, with middle initial)that a website came up with: A LAZY, PENNILESS DICK.

Ha! Shows what they know. I have at least a nickel in the bank.

* * * *

I post a lot of news links over on Facebook. It's not nearly as fascinating as the endless Mafia Wars, Farmsville, and "What Disney Princess are You?" posts that other people bombard me with, but no one's perfect.

Here's a recap of some of the more interesting links:



* Tom Barrett, Milwaukee's mayor, was beaten with a pipe after stopping to help a woman in a domestic altercation outside of the Wisconsin State Fair. He'll recover, but spent time in the hospital, lost some teeth, and broke his hand in the fight.

I'm no fan of Barrett, who seems to do little more than warm the Mayor's chair, but good for him. You did right by Milwaukee Tom. We're proud of you.




* William Golding, the author of Lord of the Flies, admitted that he once tried to rape a girl. Bear in mind the guy seemed to get off on coming across as a disturbed malcontent, so I wouldn't put 100% faith in his posthumous claim.



* Back when Mitt Romney, a Republican, was Governor of Massachusetts, the Ted Kennedy lobbied successfully to change the laws of the state. Thanks to that effort, if a Senator couldn't finish their term, a special election would be held to fill the seat. That prevented Mitt from appointing a member of his own party to fill the void.

Fast forward to 2009. Kennedy is sick with cancer, a Democrat is back in the Governor's chair, and guess what? Ol' Teddy wants the law changed back. I guess that election process he fought for so hard doesn't look so democratic when it denies a fellow Dem a seat for a few months.

How very, what's the word I'm looking for? Expected.



* The people who thought it a wise and compassionate idea to release the Lockerbie Bomber have proven the idiocy of treating terrorism - an act of war - as a mere criminal offense. A man who commits mass murder in the name of war should not, MUST not, receive the same treatment as a citizen who violates the law. Not that a 'mere' murderer with a life sentence should ever be released on 'compassionate' grounds - where's the compassion for the victim and their family? - but there is so much more involved here than pis**ing off a local community.

For starters: Scotland now looks weak and infantile, kooks in the Muslim world now have the idea that you can kill hundreds of Westerners and get a few years in jail for the trouble, Libya has a new rock star terrorist to laud, the families of hundreds of victims have had their emotional wounds ripped open, and, oh yeah . . . Libya claims, I hope fraudently, that the deal was done in exchange for financial considerations.




Even if the claim is false, any business the U.K. does with Libya will now appear to be as a result of this action. Essentially, it's now a no win situation for them. They can sit at home and lose money, or go ahead and look to the world like vultures reaping their prize.
pic credit


* Mercury Marine, which has its world headquarters here in Fon du Lac, employs 1900 people in Wisconsin and has been vital to the areas economic well-being for 70 years. To quote the Journal-Sentinel "Mercury's $175 million annual local payroll, including benefits, has been called an economic engine for the entire Fox Valley."

Now, facing a rough economy and declining sales, they gave an ultimatium to the union: help us survive by agreeing to a wage freeze for current workers, and a 30% cut for future hires, or we'll move the jobs to another state.

Well, you'd imagine the union would suck it up for a bit and ride out the recession. After all, all union workers at the plant make at least $20 an hour ($40K/year) plus benefits. I'd take that in a heartbeat. Wouldn't they?

I guess not. The union, doing what unions do, said no.

That'll show 'em!

Oh, wait. It won't. The company announced today that because of the vote they'll commence moving south, leaving "Zero to 200" jobs behind in Wisconsin.

Enjoy your unemployment gentlemen. I feel your pain - except, of course, that unlike you I didn't get the choice to keep my job and yell "hell no!" instead.

A minor but bloody disaster for YaYa

After Ginger's birthday party we headed to Butler (WI) for a barbecue with Lisa's cousin and his family. It was a blast, and among other amusements her cousin hooked up a hose to the play set and made a makeshift water slide.







Can you see where this is going?

After a few successful slides YaYa went down headfirst, and either collided with a boy or had the boy fall on top of her. Either way, she emerged with a deep but small gash in her chin.

If she was a boy, we might have let it go. A few minor scars adds to a guys mojo, you know? But a young girl? No way. So for the second time in as many years she went to the hospital and had her chin stitched up. She even had the same doctor do the sewing. I stayed home with the little one's while Lisa and LuLu accompanied her to the ER. Later, at YaYa's urging, Lisa's Mom also went to the hospital, which of course was unnecessary (but appreciated).

Three stitches later, we took these pictures.







Never fear, all is well. The stitches are out and there is nary a sign of the injury.