Miss

You know when you miss someone...I mean really miss them. You get nostalgic and damn near despondent when you see the world - or at least your world - without them? Below are four of my most treasured people. Perhaps out there you could tell me some of yours?

Age 82, October 2004. Brain issues.

Without question, the stand-up comedian who made me laugh the hardest...and my list of side-splitters is long and full...Rodney holding top spot is saying something. In typical fashion, when he went into the hospital for the brain surgery, he was asked by a personal friend how long his stay would be. He responded with, "If all goes well, about 2 weeks. If not, about an hour and a half". Funny, funny man...even when facing the end of the road.

79. October, 2005. Natural causes.

The man who brought me from adolescence into adult hood every night at 11:30 from the time I was 14 years old. I'd sneak down after mom and dad went to sleep and watch his show every night without failure. Funniest moment for those old enough to see his show: He was doing Karnac the Magnificent. He looks at the camera with the envelope to his forehead and says, "Name the sound a sheep makes when exploding." On cue, Ed McMahon repeats it, "Name the sound a sheep makes when exploding."

Karnac rips the envelope open, blows into it to open it, and says, "Ssssssss, boom, bah".

That was over 30 years ago, and I'm still laughing now.

42. May, 1989. Ovarian Cancer

As Emily Latella, Roseanne Rosanna Danna, and soooo many other characters, Gilda was one of the 3 or 4 unbelievably talented comedians who put SNL on the map - and kept it there. 42 is waaaaaaaay to young to check out. As Emily, she once came on talking about how upset she was about the "Presidential Erection". Chevy Chase stopped her, and corrected the word. "That's election, miss Latella. Election - not erection."

"Oh...NEVER MIND"

42. October, 1999. Aircraft malfunction.

Bold, talkative, confrontational and frank, Payne was never afraid to tell anyone what was on his mind - and he did so often. A distinctly different personality in a sport that screams out for personalities of any kind, Payne was never confused with anyone else out there. Hall of Fame player Lee Trevino recalled when he had a talk with Payne when he was a rookie on the PGA Tour in 1982 about Payne's propensity to wear plus-four trousers, a cap generations removed as well, and loud, flamboyant colors: "Son, [Trevino said to him] if you're going to talk with that mouth and wear those clothes, you damn sure better figure out how to play out here - and I mean in a big hurry before people laugh at you." A PGA championship, 2 United States Open championships, 5-time Ryder Cup player for his country, and dozens of regular PGA tour wins later, Payne had indeed figured it out.

Time

It's time again boys and girls. Time to drop the dribble and get back to the past through our 3rd version of: BEST ALBUM COVERS OF ALL TIME!

Leading off today, and apparently playing for humanity's worst team is Barry Louis Polisar. There may indeed be some truth to the rumor that Barry went on to fame as John Wayne Gacy, but factual evidence is still forthcoming. Let's face it folks...Barry just ain't friggin right. On the right/not right scale, he's pegging out the meter on the not right side.

Next we have Mike Terry...or perhaps it's really Terri Mike. From this photo, it's impossible to tell. Liberace turned down the contract to wear this sparkling piece of clothing because he thought it was too loud. Mike - - or is it Terri? Anyways, we'll go with Mike...sang his hit song, "The estrogen shots are giving me diarrhea" at Glasgow's Pavilion theater to a rousing ovation from all 6 dinner guests.

Ok...brought back from an earlier post, the winner of the 20th Century's creepiest album cover, Freddie Gage sings "All my friends are dead." In noting the "rainbow" logo at the bottom of the album, it isn't much of a stretch to figure out how they all died. Honorable mention award for best use of white, white, and white with black leather slacks.

Mmmmm-hmmmmm, I just bet you do, big guys. Two characteristics of this cover place it in the top 10: 1) Everyone in the photo has blue trousers except the 1st guy, who obviously missed the memo. 2) The dude on the far right failed to properly read the instructions on the Ex-Lax box, and he's in real trouble right now.

Finally, we close today's segment with, "The Many facets of Aaron". Let's see, clockwise from the upper left we can easily note that Aaron can be:

Incredulous

Sad

Angry

Proud

Stupid

Stupid, again.

Blue on blue

The tragic phenomenon known in the American lexicon as "Fratricide" continues to rear it's head in the most publicized case of it in history. We all know what it is, and I'm not going to belabor this post by going over the gory details. What I am going to do is give you a breakdown of the history of fratricide, or "Blue-on-Blue" as the British call it, the military jargon of "Blue" being "friendly forces".

Dating back to the Civil War, there have been 38 notable or significant cases of fratricide in the world, not all of them involving the United States. Here are some of them:

May 10th, 1863. General Thomas "Stonewall" Jackson was killed by a North Carolina regiment of the Confederate army at Chancellorsville, Va.

1914-1918. The French government conceded that they inadvertently killed as many as 75,000 of their own troops in the trench battles of WWI.

1940. The Nazi Luftwaffe sunk two of their own naval ships during a north Atlantic sea battle.

1943. Seconds after a German bombing raid on Allied troops in Sicily, an American-led bomber squadron flew over the exact same location as the German air forces did. Not knowing who was who 10,000 feet upward, Allied anti-aircraft gunners downed 37 U.S. bombers. It has been speculated that band leader Glenn Miller may have been in one of those aircraft.

Ok...the litany of incidents goes on and on. Official statistics dictate the following:

WWI 12% of all casualties were blue-on-blue.
WWII 16%
Vietnam 14%
Desert Storm 22%
Gulf War II, Iraq and Afghanistan 11%

My point is, it happens. It's commonly called the "fog of war". Things happen at a frightening speed, and emotions run high. The combination of speed, nerves, conditions, human frailty, and any number of other factors can lead to accidental fratricide.

The problem is, we now live in a shameless country where we have to find someone at fault for everything that goes wrong. It is IN NO WAY, SHAPE, OR FORM, the bad luck, bad timing, or simply an incorrect guess by a commander or sergeant at the incorrect time.

No sir...not in this country...not in 2007. Someone must be blamed...someone must be held accountable, dammit!

Has anyone else besides me noticed that all the people demanding answers have never been in actual combat themselves? Those without a clue are trying to persecute, punish, and destroy the lives of people who were there...risking their lives for us. And yes, I said punish. I chose that word from a direct quote from Mary Tillman in front of Congress the other day:

"People above (meaning higher ranking officers and NCO's) should have been punished for my son's death". I didn't say it...she did.

Kevin Tillman said under oath, "The Army has used my brother's death for a recruiting poster."
Really? Hey boys and girls, as soon as you finish high school, come on down and join the Army! Hell, you might be one of the lucky ones to get your balls blown off and still live to tell about it!! Uuuuuum, no Kevin...the Army is not and has not used your brothers death as a recruitment tool. That's just stupid to even think that, let alone say it.

Kevin and Mary: "The Army attempted to cover up the true facts of Pat's death." That much is true...they didn't want to admit that one of their own - football hero or not - was killed by one of their own. Duuuuuh. Do you remember when you were involved in that fender-bender? You know, the one where you walked up to the investigating officer and said, "Officer...I cannot tell a lie. It was my fault." Remember that one? Ohhhhhh....you didn't admit fault? To this day, you still tell that stupid lie about how it was the "other" driver, even though you were charged and you know the real truth? And even knowing right now you still lie about your stupid accident, you are pressing that the U.S. Army is criminally negligent in obscuring the facts about a friendly fire incident where a young, brave man died?

Ok, lemme finish this up. 3,336 dead. Statistically speaking, that means approximately 367 were the result of accidental fratricide. One man's death...6 investigations...Congressional hearings...bullshit flying from both directions...yes both directions.

Meanwhile 366 other men and women died in a similar way, and their families mourn no less, cry no less, grieve no less, and miss them no less, but are getting a LOT less publicity and public adoration.

Hypocrisy, meet thine own...and their name be well known to all.

Of yesterday and today...

106 years ago, a New England based newspaper editor wrote an article about a politician that everyone loved dearly. The editor's dilemma was the politician was not in reality as he seemed to the public, and the editor had proof of that. The newspaper threatened to fire him if he did not retract his publicly unpopular opinion. He wrote Mark Twain, and explained his particularly exigent predicament. Twain responded immediately:

My Dear Sir:

But you are proceeding upon the superstition that Moral Courage and a Hankering to Learn the Truth are ingredients in the human being's makeup. Your premises being wild and foolish, you naturally and properly get wild and foolish results. If you will now reform, and in future proceed upon the sane and unchallengeable hypothesis that those two ingredients are on vacation in our race, and have been from the start, you will be able to account for some things which seem to puzzle you now.

Sincerely yours,

S. L. CLEMENS.Riverdale-on-the-Hudson, Dec. 21, 1901.

I see, said the blind man. Yesterday I removed an unpopular post I had made. Last night I searched and came upon this quote, which made me realize that my opinion is my opinion, and I'm entitled to that. Others may have theirs, but I can have mine as well. The post I removed yesterday is back up today. If the wisdom of someone from 106 years ago makes sense to me now, then I would be remiss to shame his fine words with a cowardly deed. And so, IN SEARCH OF HEROES is back up. Slam it or not, I stand by my own feelings on the topic. You can hate what I wrote, but I have seen the error of my ways, and will not back down because some want me too.

In search of heroes

So we have a young, former Private First Class who may or may not have "heroically" defended her last position behind the wheel of her truck. She may or may not have fired her weapon back at the enemy soldiers who had fairly much killed all of her friends. After all, she had serious leg, back, and spinal cord injuries suffered in the violence of the ambush against her convoy so she may or may not have had the ability to fire back.

In any event, she was heralded as a hero.

Then we have the NFL football player who gave up his millions to fight for what he thought was a great cause. On a ridge line in Afghanistan at dusk, some claim he was killed in a fratricide incident. Others claim he was killed by enemy fire. Whichever happened, it really doesn't matter because he's gone. The bullets cared not which weapon they came out of. Bullets are funny that way.

Continuing on, he was heralded as a hero as well.

Evidently, there is a large contingent of people who want both these stories exposed...in turn exposing a Pentagon tactic of creating heroes in the interest of national pride and unity. Of course, we wouldn't want that...not national pride and togetherness...how silly to think we need that.

The Tillman family is upset at the Army...well, upset is far too mild a word. They are furious at the Army for "fabricating a lie bordering upon fraud" with respect to their son Pat and his heroism or lack thereof. Interesting take on this one, huh?

IN YOUR LIFE - have you ever heard of the family of a deceased "hero" come out after the fact and say, "Well, Bill didn't actually save all those people in that burning building...he was just in there buying cocaine and he got trapped."

No, I don't think you have.

But if the family is angry because the talented one with all the money gave it up and went off to join the service - against their wishes - then perished...perhaps they would take issue with the story and everything surrounding it in order to deflect their awful truth - that they want some young soldier held accountable for their son's death. So maybe it was fratricide...and maybe fratricide has been around as long as mankind has warred...and maybe it is a tragic end to an enchanted life...but maybe, just maybe, he's getting more inappropriate press now because of his family than he ever got because of the military. My own growing despondency and the feeling that I need a shower every time I see another panel convening another inquiry (what is this...the 4th or 5th Pat Tillman inquiry?), has become so overwhelmingly sad for me I just had to write this clearly politically incorrect blog.

Pat Tillman died because he voluntarily joined the U.S. Army in a time of crisis. How he died is actually secondary to the simple fact that he died because he wore the uniform, a fact of life for those who do. He did not have to. He could have continued to play in the NFL and make his $5 Million a year.

But he chose not to play. And that - as tragic and sad as it may be - is that.

There have been and will continue to be, fratricides during the chaos of a firefight. We won't hear much about them though, because the family's of the fallen will allow the story to speak for itself - will not dispute it or the memory of their fallen loved one - and will bury their own personal hero with the honor and respect they deserve. And those families will act just like all the otherwise anonymous heroes who weren't good enough to play in the NFL and subsequently have the power to petition Congress as many times as needed to get the results they want.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely, and before Mom Tillman lobs another mortar round at the administration and the military, maybe...

Juuuuust maybe...

She should check herself out in the mirror.

R.I.P. Pat

Man...sometimes ya just wanna...."To da moon, Alice", but you don't

Discourse. To convey thoughts through the use of words.

There are many types of discourse, and plenty of media applications with which to apply your own version. This blog comes to mind first and foremost. You can be Patrick Henry and say, "Give me liberty or give me death." You can be Thomas Jefferson in his 1801 inauguration speech saying, "If there be any among us who would wish to dissolve this Union or to change its republican form, let them stand undisturbed as monuments of the safety with which error of opinion may be tolerated where reason is left free to combat it."

The key word in Tom's sentence being "reason". Freedom of speech is tolerated and accepted when it is conducted in a "reasonable" manner, using "reasonable" words, speech, and thought processes. At times though, the process or the words become unreasonable, and although you will most likely not be incarcerated for speaking your mind, there are situations where the public in general, or individuals from within the standing public take issue with the reasonability (yes, I made that word up) of a person's words, and something must be done about it.

Therein lies the fundamental premise of Freedom of Speech. You really can't say anything you want to anyone you want, but the parameters and limitations of the 1st Amendment are certainly broad enough to allow you to get your point across in the aforementioned "reasonable" manner. The second part of the 1st Amendment is rarely discussed because it's only inferred, but is no less a firm, fundamental provision of the amendment:

Inasmuch as you, or you, or you, have the right to say to me whatever you so desire, I too have the equally fundamental (and I dare say more powerful) right to flip the off switch and completely shut out what you are saying. If you feel the overwhelming urge tell me you don't agree with my point of view, fire away. If you're reasonable about it, I'll give you the respect and courtesy of my ear. Same goes for e-mail. Come at me with a cogent, thoughtful presentation, and you may even convince me you are correct.

But if you're going to make your point through the use of hate speech, abhorrent supposition based partially on conjecture and mostly upon your own warped sense of factual, evidenciary information - spare me. A quantifiable debate is the cornerstone of free speech, but both parties must obey the rules of decency and decorum. If not, there is no debate at all.

What you have is one person with an astute contention, while the other is simply a recalcitrant, worthy of nothing but antipathy.

And so, in taking some good advice and letting this go as an opaque post, I now rest the issue.

Peace.

An angel in a yarmulke

We've all heard by now about the 77 year old Professor Liviu Librescu, of Virginia Tech. He's the Romanian born engineering professor who jumped in front of and barricaded the door to his classroom at Va Tech on Monday, April 16th.

Professor Librescu leaves behind a legacy not many in the last 100 years were able to assemble. Born in 1930's Romania, as a boy between the ages 7 and 14 he watched as thousands of his own were whisked off to Nazi internment camps, most of whom never returned. Fortunately for all of us, the good professor did. After growing up and obtaining his education, he and his wife had to endure the pain of another ruthless dictatorship: Professor Librescu was imprisoned for not joining the communist party by Romanian Dictator/Animal, Nikola Ceaucescu. Through the intervention of Israeli Prime Minister Menahem Begin, the professor, his wife, and two sons were able to migrate to Israel, which led to their mid-1980's entrance into this country.

On Monday morning, professor Librescu finally found peace in his life, but not before battling it out one final time.

Through the window of the door to his classroom, Liviu Librescu came face to face one last time with evil. There is no doubt whatsoever in my mind that professor Librescu had instantaneous recognition of the eyes he was peering into. In 77 years, you can forget a lot of things, but you're not going to forget that. Liviu Librescu saw the eyes - the same eyes he had seen twice before in a life that seemed rife with these images - and reacted accordingly. Ordering his students to jump, in a nano-second he threw his body against the door and blocked it just long enough to provide one last saintly message to the world.

"I am strength. I am justice. I am perseverance and tolerance. I am Liviu Librescu, and I will be heard."

If there is a God, and I believe there is; if he listens to requests, and I believe he does; then right about now Liviu Librescu is being fitted for a set of custom wings, the kind reserved for the most special of angels. The angels that were not only enormous in life, but unbelievably larger in death.

Peace everyone. Peace.

Tagged

I have been tagged to list my 5 favorite blogs...here they are with a brief explanation of each:

IMPORTANT NOTE: THESE ARE NOT IN ANY ORDER OF PREFERENCE

http://missbegotten.blogspot.com/ Funny, articulate person. Newly found on here, fun to read. Insightful in an unassuming way. Great wit...great charm...

http://kitchenconcerts.blogspot.com/ Great old time rock and roll to reminisce to...fun to go there.

http://maydensvoyage.blogspot.com/ Deeply personal blog. Insightful, honest, and a breath of fresh air we all need from time to time.

http://macme.blogspot.com/ My hero...a soon to be deployed 3 times soldier...I said...A SOON TO BE DEPLOYED TO A COMBAT ZONE FOR THE 3RD EFFING TIME...I also said, my hero...because it's true.

http://bslawgirl.blogspot.com/ A new one. I don't know if she knows how funny or insightful she is yet, but perhaps she'll one day realize her talent. She's a new blogger...and I'm a new reader

http://scaredmonster.blogspot.com/ A good guy, and I know this is 6....so sue me

Reaching for...?

And so the moment arrives. You're standing there at the crossroads of "why" and "who gives a rats ass".

TV man says something that torques you off. Click.

Radio man says something totally stupid. Push.

You can't find any good music to put on your MP3 because Limewire won't work today. The fact that using Limewire is piracy doesn't bother you. You're pissed at it for not working. Exit.

Somewhere there was a tsunami...and it wasn't your village, so you pass by the story and turn away.

When the top flies off a Korean kettle, we self-indulgently ask why others didn't do what they were supposed to do, conveniently dismissing the fact that we ourselves haven't done squat either. And soon enough, we will shift into ignore mode.

So that's it. Turns out it really isn't about putting your left foot in, taking your left leg out, and shaking it all about.

Evidently, it's all about click, push, turn away, ignore, and exit.

How shallow the waters have become.

Questions

Yes...there are and will be questions. Yes...there was a two-hour window between shooting incident #1 and #2. Yes...the campus police probably made some human error. And yes...Virginia Tech University and the state of Virginia will pay for this politically and monetarily in the coming months and years.

But why? Why did this happen? Here is my answer, and if you don't like it you can go fuck yourself and give your own opinion on your blog. Part of this is in my other blog, askmisterattitude, and there is some new stuff here.

We fly flags of a confederacy long since abolished, and give crap answers as to why we still do it. We have standards for some people that are not standards for others, and we give crap answers for why that is. We have people in this country who say they are men of the cloth, and that they speak for those without the power to speak, but they really want to keep those same multitudes "victims", so those speakers will have some relevance. We place celebrity on a higher plane than good parenting, or just doing good deeds. We complain when things get too tough. We fail to work on our differences through constructive speech, instead harping and sniping from a distance. We respect little in authority, and don't even have the decency to stand still and take our hat off for a song at the beginning of a baseball or football game. We want all this country has to offer with regard to its riches and pleasures, but we want someone else to do the work for us. We complain about our electorate, but we won't stand up and do it ourselves. We take steps to ensure those who want to do the right thing are not allowed to by law. We can't pray in school, say the pledge of allegiance, or wink at a co-worker to let them know we recognize they're there and noticed.

We handcuff our police, then lash out at them when they react incorrectly. We all carry cell phones and camera's to record the slightest misstep, then turn it on them in a flash. We rant and rave when someone says a bad word on one radio station, but the airwaves are full of that bullshit from other mouths up the dial. The coach of the VT football team was interviewed last night, and he stated that he didn't think any of his players were victims. That's just laughable, isn't it? Hey coach, you mean none of your players were over in the Engineering building? Whoda thunk it? The term student-athlete doesn't really apply to football and basketball, but we persist in acting as if it does.

The time has come to stop the fucking charade, but instead of screeching the wheels to a halt, we keep on churning. Rutgers University - yes the very same Rutgers that was sooooooooo insulted last week - had to make the admission last night that they signed a football player with two sexual battery convictions for having sex with his SISTER. And they knew about it and did nothing, because he sure could run fast...oh yeah...he was a great football player. A psychopath socially, but that doesn't matter to Rutgers. Rutgers the "offended".

When we finally get to the point that we realize there are people in this world who want to bring this country down; when we finally get to the point when we realize there are people in THIS COUNTRY who want to bring us down; when we finally get to the point where we realize that we are hindering law enforcement, not helping it; when we finally get to the point where we stop bitching about taking off our sneakers at the airport; when we finally come to realize your kid is failing chemistry because of his own doing, not a teachers; when we finally stop running red lights and killing innocents; when we are finally able to say when someone is wrong or right without being slapped down for having an opinion; when we finally get to the point where we realize freedom of speech is not just for you...or you...or you....or even you...but for everyone - perhaps we'll turn it around.

I'm not holding my breath though. And in the meantime, if you don't agree with this - guess what?

I don't fucking care what you think.

"Here the honourable finds its due and there are tears for passing things; here too things mortal touch the mind"

-Virgil (The Aeneid)

Va Tech 16 April 2007

I've said it before, and I'll say it again.

Who needs terrorists when we do such a fine job of destroying our own country all by ourselves?

Brrrrrr

East Coast slammed by powerful nor’easter
West Va., N.J. declare emergencies; hundreds of flights canceled. Up to 10 inches of snow in Vt, NH, and Maine.

With temperatures dropping into the low 40's in Central Florida last night, a certified record cold snap for the region, global warming advocates huddled around their pot bellied leader....errrrr....stoves, last night wondering how the hell this could be going on. "Thousands of head of cattle froze to death this winter in the North Texas, Oklahoma, Colorado, Kansas, Nebraska corridor, and we can't seem to find a viable explanation why", global warming spokesperson Cindi Metcalf-Burns-Myers said. "All indications were that we were in the throes of an inconvenient truth", she said while winking at her counterpart, Al. "And for the record, that's Ms. Metcalf-Burns-Meyers".

Sitting at a spread that included a full rack of ribs, four different appetizers, 2 cakes, a large order of fries with gravy, and 3 gallons of rocky road ice cream, Al wiped off his lips long enough to say, "You see, this cold snap is nothing more than a fabrication by the media...a media designed to put fantasy over fact when it comes to me and my cause." When reminded that the media is actually behind him 95% on this one, Al was heard to say, "Really? I didn't know that. Hey, you gonna eat the rest of those mashed potatoes, or can I scarf 'em?"

Meanwhile, in Cleveland, the "Indians" still haven't dug their way out of the 3 feet of snow that fell last week, cancelling all their home games so far, and sending them to Milwaukee, which has a domed stadium. "Thank goodness for that", Indians manager Eric Wedge said. "It snowed 5 inches during Saturday's game alone. I had my entire staff outside, spraying hairspray into the sky, but to no avail. It just kept getting colder and snowing harder. I'm glad Milwaukee had a dome, at least."

From the AP wires

Not much else to say

I grew up a-dreamin' of bein' a cowboy,

and Lovin' the cowboy ways.

Pursuin' the life of my high-ridin' heroes,

I burned up my childhood days.

I learned of all the rules of the modern-day drifter;

Don't you hold on to nothin' too long.

Just take what you need from the ladies, then leave them,

With the words of a sad country song.

My heroes have always been cowboys.

And they still are, it seems.

Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,

themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.

Cowboys are special

with their own brand of misery,

From being alone too long.

You could die from the cold

in the arms of a nightmare,

Knowin' well that your best days are gone.

Pickin' up hookers instead of my pen,

I let the words of my youth fade away.

Old worn-out saddles, and 'old worn-out memories,

With no one and no place to stay.

My heroes have always been cowboys.

and they still are, it seems.

Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,

Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.

Sadly, in search of, but one step in back of,

Themselves and their slow-movin' dreams.

Chance of success? Minimal at best

So the Duke lacrosse players were totally exonerated, and life goes on, right? Or does it? I couldn't get this one question out of my head yesterday, so perhaps you can assist me.

Can a reputation soured, be reestablished in a positive manner?

Let me list some names for you, and you tell me what your initial thoughts are. Remember, this is a reputation question - I'm not asking how you personally feel about anyone. Ready?

OJ Simpson
Robert Blake
Jim Baker
John Ramsay
Kobe Bryant
Patsy Ramsay
Don Imus
Phil Specter
Barry Bonds
Johnny Cochran
Monika Lewinsky
Jimmy Swaggart

There are more...many more...so I ask you again. Can a reputation be changed?

I don't think it can. Not really.

Just once...juuuuust once

Joey

There is a young man from here in Central Florida who grew up a terrific athlete. His name is Joey. Soccer was his chosen sport, and he was one of the area's best for a long time. He went off to college, and one night he did the college thing that college kids do, and tragedy struck.

He's paralyzed now...but being the competitor he is, he has not quit.

In his room he has a huge soccer poster with an inscription on it. Before you read the inscription below, take a quick self-evaluation.

Are you unhappy? You could be sadder.
Are you unfulfilled? You could be more barren.
Do you feel life is unfair? Yep, and more for some than others.
Are you paralyzed and 19? No, you probably are not.

In the midst of the most tragic and terrifying of circumstances, our young former soccer player looks at his poster with the inscription every day, then focuses on a comeback.

"Impossible is just a big word thrown around by small men who find it easier to live in the world they've been given than to explore the power they have to change it. Impossible is not a fact...it's an opinion. Impossible is not a declaration, it's a dare. Impossible is potential. Impossible is temporary. Impossible is nothing."

Whatever it is that bothers you today, get over it.

What do YOU want?

I want passionate feelings about things, but passion is like walking a tight-rope at times…

I want to know ‘why?’…

I want to be young again, but with my experienced mind…

I want children to stay children; kind, thirsting for knowledge, forgiving…

I want the tragedy of hunger to disappear…

I want someone to tell me why I need 5 remotes for 1 television…

I want more piano and less clarinet…

I want peace, but I don’t know who can grant me – or anyone for that matter – this virtue…

I want rain for the dry and sunshine for the cold…

I want to know ‘why not?’…

I want the most important thing I have to decide today to be which baseball cap to wear…

I want September 10th, 2001 again…

I want love to be love, and hatred to be a word that disappears from our lexicon…

I want our service men and women to stay strong, focused, and resolute…

I want our politicians to do the same as our military, but I’ll settle for any one of the three right now because I know politician's are limited intellectually…

I want what you want, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone…






I want a lot of things…


I cannot have.

Red, White And Blue

Death of a salesman...ahem...person.

You love to wordsmith, which is a wonderful and creative quality.

Most of the time.

In its most sinister form, word-smithing is known as Political Correctness. It started out innocently enough when we started calling the garbage man a “sanitation engineer”, implying that the guy hanging off the back of the truck in the boots and the smelly clothing graduated Suma Cum Laude from Princeton, and he’s just doing this work now while he awaits acceptance into Stanford Medical School. This soon morphed into more clever phraseology, pinning anyone to the wall without the current manual. Out of touch with the newest and best words? You will surely suffer at the hands of the PC police.

An “Oriental” person became “Asian”, people of color in this country adopted Africa as their native homeland, even if the closest they ever got to Africa was a vacation day at Bush Gardens in Tampa. This gave rise to the hyphenated name…African-American. Funny, but I’ve never heard a black man from England call himself African-cockneyed, or is cockneyed no longer acceptable? The most recent manual I have is the PC-PC version 2.1, (available through Microsoft, which will soon be called “Teeny-weeny gentle”) but I’m sure we’re far beyond that now.

Soon thereafter, hyphenation took on its own split personality – yes, pun intended. Thousands of women all over America decided they couldn’t possibly stand on convention, and Susie Thomas became Susie Thomas-Bernham-Blue, which conveniently rhymes with I’m-JL4-so-bite-me-too.

And now we have a new list of words that for years were harmless and ineffectual, but are now considered treasonous, blasphemous, a whole lot of other ous’s, as well as being down-right criminal, depending upon your position or status:

“Flip Chart” has to be changed because evidently it offends Philipino’s, or at least those that can’t spell. Feel free to re-read if you didn’t get what I said.

In Glasgow Scotland, it is no longer proper to order “Black Coffee”. It has been legally established that “black coffee” is racist. I’m thinking “Columbian-Dark” would be a good substitute, incorporating the finest elements of color, nationality, and hyphenation.

“Mennaissance” has replaced “Metrosexual.” Since I neither am nor know what a metrosexual is or was, I’m not going to waste my time worrying about a mennaissance man.

In this country, there are those in political authority who want to call “Illegal Immigrants” “migratory populace.” Is your head spinning yet, Buckwheat? Well, I’m not done.

Back to the British Isles, a newspaper in England is trying to defer from using the word “terrorist”, while substituting it with “Misguided Criminals”. Of course. And a rapist is simply someone with lousy penis aim.

The common computer terms, “Master and Slave” have been deemed offensive, because they “bring back memories of the early days of America.” Last time I looked, Strom Thurmond finally passed away, and he’s the only person I can think of besides Dick Clark and Bob Barker who would or could have any actual memories of 150 years ago.

And I saved the best for last:

Thousands of NOW veterans are again pushing for the word “history” to be called “HERstory”. Apparently, women also made up the past (who knew?) and they want their just deserts.

Subsequently, I think the term “mathematics” has reached its zenith as well, and I propose we now call it, “Addsubtractdividametrics”, giving the proper recognition where it belongs.

See you all later...unless of course I meant to say, "at a time in the future".

Valium please.