Private parts

I will not cross the line . I will not cross the line. I will not cross the line.

In my zeal to amuse you, I have often taken you to topics that blur the distinction between private and public. You have been lying with me during my prostate exams and have questioned with me why everyone seemed to have knowledge regarding the size of my manhood. My ego and my body parts have often been on full display.

But I must always remember that it is my journey that I am asking you to share in. My friends and family did not sign on as co-conductors of this train. What I think might amuse you about others is of no moment. No one signs an assumption of risk form when they enter into a discussion with me. Their lives are not proper topics for these pages.

I had dinner with 3 other couples last night. The conversation was often hilarious and clearly not intended to go beyond the 4 walls that held in our words Yet, as the evening ended, there was a slightly nervous discussion as to whether they might waken to find their thoughts revealed for all the world's viewing.

I don't want my friends looking over their shoulders to see if I am writing down their words as they speak. I don't want them guarded in my presence. I don't want them avoiding me for fear my lunacy has tentacles.

I promise to my wife, my son , my daughter and my friends that I will practice my mantra every day. I will not invade other people's territories in a mad rush for literary power and glory. I will not reach across the line of privacy for my own journalistic advancement. I will obey the rules of a writer's Geneva convention and not take my friends prisoners of my pen.

I will shortly be walking through freshly fallen snow with many of last night's entourage. I am contemplating handing them a document waiving my right to report on any intimacies which may be revealed. I fear it is the only way they will let me travel with them. I wouldn't blame them.

Say it ain't so

Joe Torre has co-authored yet another tell all. The third book in his ever expanding series, we now gain further insight into the mind of the ex-Yankee manager. From the reviews given in the media, it appears that the fall of Joe Torre was not in his exit from our scene but in his gathered recollections.

My memories of him are of his humanity, of his dignity, of his compassion. I recall the tears he shed when discussing his brother's cancer, or contemplating the wonder of reaching and then winning the World Series. He looked and sounded like every man. He was like us, only a little better.

He did not belittle his players. He chose not to be petty when the Steinbrenner attacks came as they inevitably did. He had a love for those he coached and a passion for the game that transcended the numbers on the page, or the hits and errors on the field. It was his calm in the storm that soothed his players and made him more than just another manager.That image is now forever tarnished.

We learn of his tearing down A-Rod. We hear of the blame heaped on Cashman for not covering his back. We see a side of Joe Torre that we did not want to see and hoped did not exist. We wanted him to be more. We expected him to remain above the fray.

Like Simon and Garfunkel, I now ask where have you gone Joe? You didn't need the money and we didn't need another glimpse of yet another ordinary man. The pinstripes have now been stripped off your back. I hope you are warm in your new home in California.

A country song

I WAS TUNED IN TO A COUNTRY MUSIC STATION TODAY ON A TRIP HOME WITH MY FAMILY. AFTER LISTENING INTENTLY TO LYRICS FOR MAYBE AN HOUR, I TOLD MY SON THAT I COULD WRITE A COUNTRY SONG FILLED WITH THE CLICHES THAT SWALLOW UP EVERY TUNE - HERE GOES

It's a love once right gone wrong
It's a loner aching to belong
It's a want, a need so strong
It's life, it's here, in a song

It's the shoes one size too big
It's my old man's wearing a wig
It's the neighbor's a dirty old pig
It's real life, all zag and no zig

It's funny, it's sad, it's sweet,
It's soulful, it's kind, it's neat
It's cold, it's warm, it's heat
It's true life, it's mine, with a beat

All life's a country song
In rhythm and rhyme we belong
Tempest tossed, weak or strong
For better or worse, right or wrong

It's hope in a bottle of booze
It's daytime, with nothing to choose
It's a perpetual win or lose
It's whether or not we refuse

It's everything and nothing at all
It's big and often it's small
It's reaching and it's in a fall
It's silence and it's in your call

It's the beginning or maybe the end
It's straight but sometimes a bend
It's broken, but it may soon mend
It's my enemy tomorrow my friend

My life's a country song
In rhythm and rhyme I belong
Tempest tossed, weak or strong
For better or worse, right or wrong

While Rome burns

Governor Blago- "So how do you think I'm doing?"

Interviewer on the "Tomorrow and Tomorrow" show- "Well, I do admire your energy for doing every talk show on every major network in 1 day. But, the more important question is why you are defending yourself here and not where you are on trial."

GB- "Did Jesus defend himself? Did Martin Luther King? Did Gandhi? Did Rocky Balboa?"

Interviewer- "But, if you are not going to state your case in Illinois, why did you not just resign?"

GB- "Their day of reckoning will come, but this is not the moment. For now, it is just important that the rest of the world knows I did nothing wrong".

Interviewer- "But the tapes of your conversations call for an explanation that we can all understand."

GB- " Let me be perfectly clear about that. I DID NOTHING WRONG. Now are you satisfied?"

Interviewer- "This is just a waste of time and energy unless you are willing to be forthright with me."

GB- "I am trying to be honest. I get up at 3 o'clock every morning thinking only about what I can do to help my State."

Interviewer- "Did you say you worry only about yourself?"

GB- " I am so misunderstood". While I am running every morning, I try to run as far away as I can."

Interviewer- "Are you running away from your troubles?"

GB- "My wife and my children suffer. I suffer. Now is the picture beginning to clear for you?"

Interviewer- " Whom do you blame for this happening?"

GB- "Well, it is not those who prosecute me, because ultimately I believe in them. They will soon see the light. It is not the media because I know they are now listening to me. It is those whose only thought for the last 4 years is to get me and my hair out of the picture."

Interviewer- "And who would that be?"

GB- "I can tell you it was not Senator Burris and it was not Oprah Winfrey. Beyond that, you will have to decide for yourself."

Interviewer- "Did you seek to gain personally from the appointment of a new governor?"

GB- "If you would speak with Rahm Emanuel or with Jesse Jackson, Jr. , you would have your answer."

Interviewer- " And what would that answer be?"

GB-" I am sorry. I am due to appear on the "Yesterday, all my troubles seemed so far away" show in 10 minutes. I must leave now. But, I just want to end by thanking you for letting me clear my name before the American public."

FADE TO BLACK

WWOD ( What would Obama do)

The final score was Covenant 100 , Dallas Academy 0. The coach for the winning team was unapologetic. Upon reflection, the players on his team spoke of feeling terrible and wanting to forfeit the game. The losing squad talked of canceling the remainder of its season and withdrawing from the league.

It is the age old argument of whether it is intellectually dishonest to show compassion and to do less than your best. For one coach, the answer was obvious. For the rest of us, the ramifications of inflicting this type of humiliation cries out for a much more nuanced response.

I ask you to tell me how some of the following would answer the question of running up the score (each individual's response should be 25 words or less)

1) Barack Obama
2) George Bush
3) Dick Cheney
4) Joe Biden
5) Bobby Knight
6) John Wooden
7) Your boss
8) Your mother
9) Your mother in law
10) Your psychiatrist
11) Your spiritual guide
12) Your favorite teacher
13) Your best friend
14) Your worst enemy
15) Sarah Palin
16) Katie Couric
17) You

Try to hear their voices ( this is not hearing voices in your head) and answer as they would. The best answer gets an all expense paid trip to interview the coaches. The worst answer has to read all the posts on my blog in a 24 hour period.

The Good Books Make Bad Movies Hall of Shame

Discuss. Any other good examples?

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Spectacular Book:


Crappy Movie:


Fantastic Book:


Horrible Movie:

Investigative Blogalism

Viral phenomena are rumors, videos, stories, blog posts, and just about anything else that spreads quickly and wildly across the internets. One such 'virus' was an article about the vast liberal conspiracy that is daylight savings time. I did a little sleuthing and produced this investigative post, which, like everything viral, had its moment of glory, but soon faded deep into bloggy obscurity. I repost it here for some out-dated amusement.

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Earlier this morning, my friend's mom forwarded me a scan of what purported to be a letter to the editor of the Arkansas-Democrat Gazette. In this letter, the author eloquently proclaims that global warming is a myth perpetuated by a liberal Congress, which sinisterly moved up Daylight Saving Time by several weeks in order to increase the hours of sunshine and, thus, make March warmer than normal.

Now, I know that the far edges of the right-wing contain individuals who might honestly espouse such views, but I was very skeptical that such a letter would actually be written, let alone be published in an actual newspaper. Further adding to my doubt, the headline of the letter contains a typo, and the same exact scan appears conspicuously throughout the blogosphere, in most cases without a link to the actual publication. Even a google search and a google news search for the headline turns up lots of blogs, but no links to the newspaper itself.

However, I did a bit more sleuthing and, sure enough, the letter is for real. Lest you believe that the scan you see here is a mere Photoshop trick, click this link! The question still remains: Is this a clever and concise work of political satire, or something much more frightening?

UPDATE: I did a little digging. Connie M. Meskimen, the Arkansan author, shares his/her name with an Arkansan bankruptcy law attorney. I can probably conclude that this is one and the same Connie M. Meskimen. I'd like to think that receiving a law degree connotes a certain level of wisdom and common sense, and so I am sincerely hoping that one of the following is true: (A) Connie M. Meskimen has a highly-developed sense of irony and a sharp wit; (B) Connie M. Meskimen, the lawyer, did not write this letter; or (C) Arkansas reexamines its standards for admission to the bar.

UPDATE 2: (A) wins! Check out this tongue-in-cheekiness from one Connie M. Meskimen, published years earlier in the same publication:

According to reader Connie M. Meskimen, tonic water, also called quinine water, was developed by the British to make quinine palatable to troops in India suffering from malaria. "I would suggest then that by liberally imbibing gin and tonics you will experience a great curative effect. You might explore whether your health insurance would pay for part of the liquor bill."

Happy VERY EARLY Independence Day

So, it turns out I'm mostly carrying photo posts over here, as those seem to have more timelessness than my written ones. Though this one is of July 4th fireworks, it seems oddly appropriate at the dawning of a historic new American presidency.

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An annual tradition: The best shot of the night from the Edgewater, NJ fireworks show. While not one of the more spectacular fireworks displays out there, the backdrop makes it a highly photogenic one.

 

Another Ported Photo Post

One of my favorite pastimes is what I like to call "improvised tripoding" with my camera. When taking night shots or dimly lit indoor shots, flash is often either (a) inadequate or (b) inappropriate, or both. In this situation, never prepared with an actual tripod, I like to try to find stationary or nearly-stationary objects on which to balance my camera, in order to enable a steady, long exposure without shakiness and blur. Tabletops and chair arms work well, as do some street signs, windowsills, rocks, and wide fence rails or posts. Sometimes, in more desperate or creative moments ("extreme improvised tripoding"), I will also use tree branches, other people's heads, or the hood of a stranger's car.

Tonight, while ostensibly on an errand to 7-11 to replenish our dangerously low ice cream supply, I decided to take some shots using the aforementioned method. My favorite shot of the evening is below. It is so quintessentially suburban strip mall, it could have been shot in nearly any town in America (in this case, the photo was taken in Fort Lee, New Jersey). My favorite element, though, which I didn't notice until I transfered the photos to my laptop, is the distant manikin in the window, unblinkingly staring back out at the world. There's something wonderfully creepy about it.

 

Snow-Covered Greetings

Hi, I'm Richie (Jay), son of Robert of Too Early To Call fame. You may know me from a few of my guest posts. Well, effective immediately, I've received a promotion from 'guest poster' to 'contributor' on this blog. I've shut down my also-ran blogging operation, and merged forces with the much more established, well-read, and frequently updated pages of my dad's blog.

As I transition over to this blog, I may carry over some old material.

Starting with this: A medley of snow photos from just about one year ago.

 

 

 

Sometimes being out-of-focus means you're a bad photographer. Other times, it means it's snowing buckets and you can call it 'art.'

 

 

 

This one's my dad: