A big thank you goes out to Andrew Jackson, our 7th President of the United States. You all know him, his picture is on the twenty dollar bill. What did he do so great that his portrait should adorn our currency you may ask? Even if you don’t ask, I’m going to tell you in a roundabout way why the Treasury made a wise choice.
Oh, you might say “Old Hickory” distinguished himself during the War of 1812 at the Battle of New Orleans, securing victory, after which Johnny Horton immortalized him in song. Well, I hate to be the bearing of bad tidings; but that battle was fought after the Treaty of Ghent had already been signed, signifying the war’s end. You may say he was the first President elected for all intents and purposes, by popular vote, breaking the stranglehold of the elite class and their occupation of the office. A good and just guess, but my reason is a little simpler. Jackson laid the foundation to the skyscraper of sport that exists today whose shadow stretches across the American landscape. He was the first to manufacture the textile of sport that has become so interwoven into fabric of culture. However, this is not about Andrew Jackson, it’s about what provoked this unusual acknowledgement. I recently attended the ribbon cutting ceremony for the new alumni center at Florida Atlantic University. How are the two connected? I’ll tell you.
Hunting and fishing were the two sporting activities rich folk did in their leisure time back prior to Andrew Jackson becoming President in 1828. At Jackson’s inauguration, he opened the White House to all who felt so inclined to join in the festivities. The “common man” could rub elbows with Washington D.C’s movers and shakers of the period. There was much drinking and carousing a stone’s throw from the Oval office which was about to be occupied by a most uncommon “common man.” In short, people trashed the joint.
Jackson won the election by “stumping” from small town to small town. He represented the interests of the majority of Americans, not the handful of select landowners and powerbrokers. He also fancied himself to be quite a horseman, and was known to lay a wager or two to prove his point. It mattered little to Jackson who owned the horse he raced against, as long as he had the opportunity to show his mettle and make a few dollars in the process. Horse Racing is known today as the Sport of Kings. Up until Jackson became President it was only Kings or America’s version of them, who engaged in the activity. Jackson brought his love for horse racing with him to the White House, and everyone that voted for him fell in love with the sport as well. If you farmed only enough acreage to feed and clothe your family, but owned a fast horse, you could race right along side plantation owners with a stable of horses. The line separating classes had been crossed, and as a nation we haven’t looked back since.
Within the decade after Jackson leaving office, the first baseball game was played at Elysian Field in Hoboken, New Jersey. That sport too tried to keep out all but the educated elite, to no avail. By 1869, the Industrial Revolution was off and running and baseball had become a profession incorporating all classes of individuals. Waves of immigrant factory workers found baseball to be a way to assimilate into American life. Soon many of them eschewed factory work for work in the ball fields. The institution of professional baseball prided itself as a means of social mobility. Football would soon follow suit. Sadly, the segregationist racial attitudes of the era were reflected in sports. It would be many years before that line of inequality was breached.
For well over a century fathers of all races, religions and classes, have spent quality time with their children playing catch, shooting hoops, or tossing the football around; but the role of sport and its influence reaches far beyond the realm of the playing field.
Educators and legislators often bemoan the feasibility of collegiate athletic programs without looking at the big picture. Only a handful of universities across the country have gained notoriety for their academics. The Ivy League schools and the military academies, Stanford and MIT top the short list. I’ve left off the University of Chicago because under the direction of famed coach Amos Alonzo Stagg, their football program put the school on the proverbial map. Producing the first Heisman trophy winner Jay Berwanger, who later became the first draft choice for the newly formed National Football League. The argument exists that the majority of college sports programs lose money. True, most do, but there are others, like the University of Florida who occasionally share their wealth with other campus departments that are suffering financially. However, the collateral benefits reaped from collegiate sports know no bounds.
Gatorade was developed because of the football program, and look at the windfall those residuals have brought to the school, the science department in particular. At Florida Atlantic University the benefits have not been as high profile, but no less noteworthy.
The school is only in its 45th year, an infant in the world of academia. The football program is in only its 8th year and 4th at the Division I level. Last year, the team won its conference title and its first ever bowl game (on national television), the youngest program in NCAA history to do so. Articles on the team appeared in national publications. With those milestones, 100,000 diplomas became more valuable. FAU alum living in Oregon can apply for jobs there and their alma mater will be recognized because some young men won a football game.
Harold and Marleen Forkas, who did not attend Florida Atlantic, were two of the first 100 season ticket holders for football 8 years ago. They adopted the University after retiring and moving to Boca Raton, Florida from Long Island, New York. The ribbon cutting ceremony that I spoke of earlier was at the Marleen and Harold Forkas Alumni Center. Their generosity and affection for Florida Atlantic came in the form of $1,100,000 (that’s a lot of Andrew Jacksons) for construction of said center; all because they bought football season tickets.
Thank you Andrew Jackson for introducing America to the ways of sport, and how everyone can embrace them no matter who they are or what socio-economic class they occupy. We’re all the better for it.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Wake Me When It’s Over
Well boys and girls, the calendar tells us that Election Day is almost here. Yippee! Hurrah! Be still my palpitating heart! Has it really been just two years since a couple of dozen sadomasochistic men and women decided to throw their hats into the proverbial Presidential ring? It seems like an eon. Time sure flies when you’re having fun eh? We’ve been fed a steady diet of hyperbolical politispeak for the past twenty-four months. (Spelling the time frame out is much more impressive than just the number 24.) We’ve weeded out the also-rans, and now there are two. Now that we’re in the home stretch you can turn on your television anytime of the day or night, and if you watch network programming for more than twenty-five minutes at a clip you’re bound to be treated to an advertisement touting Barack Obama (or a snipe at McCain); and with any luck you’ll get the double whammy and get a John McCain (or anti-Obama) ad for good measure. Maybe even back to back! Isn’t that exciting! I don’t know about you, but I’m over it, Finis, kaput, done, fried. Can we please move on?
Let’s cover the positive aspect of this overblown, overstated, overindulgent hoopla. Since the target audience is the same, and they air during the same broadcasts; all these political ads have taken valuable airtime away from pharmaceutical companies touting their never ending stream of things we MUST ask our doctors about. Our high cholesterol, high blood pressure, our obesity (you know who you are), our erectile dysfunction, depression (if you are male wouldn’t those two go hand in hand?), our restless leg syndrome, allergies, diabetes, chronic dry eye, acid reflux, insomnia, brittle bones, low calcium, and the all important benign prostatic hypertrophy.
These ads offer a multitude of things we can take to alleviate any of the aforementioned maladies, and some that weren’t mentioned. Pharmaceutical giants shill everything from Avodart and Flomax for our plumbing, Lipitor, Crestor, Zetia, and Zocor will assuage our heart and cholesterol concerns. Astilin and Zyrtec will allow us to breathe easier so to speak. Prevacid, Nexium, Tagamet, and Prilosec bombard our gullets, and Viagra, Cialis, and Levitra keep us erect, unless it’s for more than four hours, then we get thee to a nunnery, I mean doctor. See, due to the final campaign crunch we can be thankful we’re granted a diversion from what should be ailing all of us. Just substituting one craneal poison for another I guess.
Personally, I can truly relate to Malcolm McDowell’s character in A Clockwork Orange when he’s forced to watch television hours on end. Is there a real need for all these campaign ads? After all these months of nightly news coverage of the two candidates, innumerable sources of measured, pertinent information on the issues; is there a voter out there that needs to see just one more political advertisement to persuade him to vote one way or the other? If there is I don’t want that asshole canceling out my carefully researched and thought through vote. Yet there is no medication to help me stomach the eternal political drivel.
Why can’t the candidates say something profound? Something that makes us take pause like JFK’s “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country;” or FDR’s “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” That’s shit that you can rally around. It’s immaterial that speechwriters probably came up with both of those gems; they were lines that you could sink your teeth into. What do we get?
We get Sarah Palin’s response to a third graders question concerning the duties of the Vice-President. She informed her audience that in addition to supporting the policies of the President, the Vice-President “is in charge of the Senate.” Interesting. Maybe she looked that up on Wilkipedia, before someone corrected that erroneous entry. From what I understand, the Vice-President serves as President of the Senate, formally presiding over Senate deliberations. The role is so limited that the Vice-President rarely comes to the chamber, unless there is a tie vote on bills and resolutions, and then the Vice-President gets to cast the deciding vote. To me that’s a far cry from “in charge of the Senate.” Someday, further along in that child’s educational process perhaps he/she will be enlightened as to the real role the Vice-President plays in regard to the Senate. For now, that child should file Palin’s answer somewhere in the darkest recess of their mind, never to be summoned forth when queried. Palin should heed the advice of Abraham Lincoln, “ ‘tis better to remain silent and thought a fool, than speak and remove all doubt.”
Barack Obama can’t seem to grab that elusive brass ring of quotable wisdom either. He recently stirred a crowd when referencing the current economic crisis by saying “Times like these call for the best ideas and the brightest minds…” like we need to be reminded of that. Really? No, we want dipshits and halfwits to tackle the fiscal woes the country is mired in.
So come on all you “fence-sitters,” let’s watch more TV! They’ll be running campaign ads for the next two weeks! This is your last chance to be persuaded. Is there a pill for constipation of the brain?
Let’s cover the positive aspect of this overblown, overstated, overindulgent hoopla. Since the target audience is the same, and they air during the same broadcasts; all these political ads have taken valuable airtime away from pharmaceutical companies touting their never ending stream of things we MUST ask our doctors about. Our high cholesterol, high blood pressure, our obesity (you know who you are), our erectile dysfunction, depression (if you are male wouldn’t those two go hand in hand?), our restless leg syndrome, allergies, diabetes, chronic dry eye, acid reflux, insomnia, brittle bones, low calcium, and the all important benign prostatic hypertrophy.
These ads offer a multitude of things we can take to alleviate any of the aforementioned maladies, and some that weren’t mentioned. Pharmaceutical giants shill everything from Avodart and Flomax for our plumbing, Lipitor, Crestor, Zetia, and Zocor will assuage our heart and cholesterol concerns. Astilin and Zyrtec will allow us to breathe easier so to speak. Prevacid, Nexium, Tagamet, and Prilosec bombard our gullets, and Viagra, Cialis, and Levitra keep us erect, unless it’s for more than four hours, then we get thee to a nunnery, I mean doctor. See, due to the final campaign crunch we can be thankful we’re granted a diversion from what should be ailing all of us. Just substituting one craneal poison for another I guess.
Personally, I can truly relate to Malcolm McDowell’s character in A Clockwork Orange when he’s forced to watch television hours on end. Is there a real need for all these campaign ads? After all these months of nightly news coverage of the two candidates, innumerable sources of measured, pertinent information on the issues; is there a voter out there that needs to see just one more political advertisement to persuade him to vote one way or the other? If there is I don’t want that asshole canceling out my carefully researched and thought through vote. Yet there is no medication to help me stomach the eternal political drivel.
Why can’t the candidates say something profound? Something that makes us take pause like JFK’s “Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country;” or FDR’s “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” That’s shit that you can rally around. It’s immaterial that speechwriters probably came up with both of those gems; they were lines that you could sink your teeth into. What do we get?
We get Sarah Palin’s response to a third graders question concerning the duties of the Vice-President. She informed her audience that in addition to supporting the policies of the President, the Vice-President “is in charge of the Senate.” Interesting. Maybe she looked that up on Wilkipedia, before someone corrected that erroneous entry. From what I understand, the Vice-President serves as President of the Senate, formally presiding over Senate deliberations. The role is so limited that the Vice-President rarely comes to the chamber, unless there is a tie vote on bills and resolutions, and then the Vice-President gets to cast the deciding vote. To me that’s a far cry from “in charge of the Senate.” Someday, further along in that child’s educational process perhaps he/she will be enlightened as to the real role the Vice-President plays in regard to the Senate. For now, that child should file Palin’s answer somewhere in the darkest recess of their mind, never to be summoned forth when queried. Palin should heed the advice of Abraham Lincoln, “ ‘tis better to remain silent and thought a fool, than speak and remove all doubt.”
Barack Obama can’t seem to grab that elusive brass ring of quotable wisdom either. He recently stirred a crowd when referencing the current economic crisis by saying “Times like these call for the best ideas and the brightest minds…” like we need to be reminded of that. Really? No, we want dipshits and halfwits to tackle the fiscal woes the country is mired in.
So come on all you “fence-sitters,” let’s watch more TV! They’ll be running campaign ads for the next two weeks! This is your last chance to be persuaded. Is there a pill for constipation of the brain?
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
The Event
I’m switching gears this week to examine what some of the populace believe is the lighter side of our culture, sports. If you have any sense of humor, I can’t fathom anything more entertaining than the Presidential campaign. However, there was nothing “light” about the college football game I attended this past weekend. Everything that transpired heightened my awareness of how important sports are to our society. This is why they have their own section of the newspaper, radio and television stations devote 24 hour coverage; all because of the import we put on them. When an event of such magnitude occurs, clocks stop; the work week is forgotten, the economy, the argument with the wife or girlfriend, all in the name of sport.
There are several such happenings that the entire sporting community elevates to said event status. The Super Bowl, where the game itself is rarely super, The Daytona 500, The Kentucky Derby, the World Series, even though only teams from America play in it. There are a couple of college football rivalries that are annual events. Ohio State-Michigan, Harvard-Yale, California-Stanford, are always games of note despite won-lost records that may indicate otherwise. Then there is the special game that occurs because the stars have aligned just right. Two happened on this fall Saturday in October, Texas versus Oklahoma, and Florida versus LSU. I was fortunate enough to experience all of the hoopla of the latter.
Each fall for the past five years I have attended a football game at the University of Florida. It’s the annual rite of father and son bonding. My son graduated from UF last May, and is now a graduate student there. Past opponents were Arkansas, Kentucky, Vanderbilt, Alabama, and last year the Gators squared off against my alma mater Florida Atlantic University; noble foes all, but lacking elite status. This year was different. Just a week ago Florida suffered a most ignominious loss at home at the hands of the University of Mississippi, their first defeat of the season. The Polls now ranked UF 11th. LSU on the other hand was undefeated and ranked 4th. This game would have SEC and National Championship implications. I was so excited I could barely contain myself.
Normally I get to Gainesville early Friday afternoon. However, I had business in Orlando on Thursday, so I got to campus a day early. Each and every subsequent activity after my arrival was significant in some way, shape or form.
Thursday night for the first time since I gave up consuming alcoholic beverages, I closed a bar. My metabolism severely out of whack due to the copious amounts of Diet Coke I consumed. While my son and his friends continued to slay brain cells somewhere else, I retreated to my motel room to count the popcorn on the ceiling. This was just a prelude of what was in store.
Friday I arose relatively early considering what time I had retired the previous evening. I made my way to my son’s house to check my e-mail for a pending appointment with an administrator at the University Athletic Association. I found Cory in a state of ill-repair due to a lack of sleep and a slight overindulgence of libations. After confirmation of my appointment, Cory was none too pleased that he needed to get his shit together for a 10:30 meeting. Like the champ that he is, he made a strategic phone call to find out the building location where the meeting would be taking place. We made our way to campus amid the bustle of students going to and from class. There were no signs of the storm that was approaching the university grounds.
Once my obligations were completed, with splendid results I might add, we went to the new football offices. Only authorized personnel were granted access to the upstairs, Cory fell into this category. After perusing the lobby where the BCS Championship trophies and Heisman awards of past winners, I made my way into the inner sanctum of UF football. Verne Lundquist and Gary Danielson of CBS sports were there in preparation for the following evenings broadcast. Cory introduced me to no less than a dozen of his co-workers. I tried mightily to remember their names, but there would be dozens more such introductions as the weekend wore on, and to remember them all would be a feat indeed. As we made our way past coach’s offices, and meeting rooms, yes there is more than one, we were greeted by Head football coach Urban Meyer. My weekend certainly was starting off in grand fashion. Cory’s supervisor offered us bracelets which granted us access to the pizza party football staff luncheon, we accepted graciously. At this point I’m feeling truly grateful to be Cory’s father. He really knows how to show someone a good time.
The preparations for the following day’s festivities began in earnest with the purchase of alcoholic beverages to be put on ice. Exhausted from lack of sleep, coupled with all the walking that morning, I felt a need for a little game I like to call “Checking my Eyelids for Cracks.” Cory agreed. I returned to my motel. Only I didn’t sleep as hoped. Cory requested that I return to his house around 5:30. To give myself plenty of time to travel the 4.5 miles, I left at 5:00. The first signs that something was brewing on the horizon was the storm surge of humanity converging on Gainesville. Every traffic light was sufficiently backed up that waiting for three cycles of change was not uncommon. I called to say I’d be late. My voice must have sounded giddy, because the electricity in the air was palpable. I could hardly contain my excitement. Again, Cory and I made our way to mid-town this time with several newly arrived out of town friends in tow. The sole reason for this influx was THE GAME. The bars were jammed beyond capacity because of THE GAME. Streets were impassible because of THE GAME. Television news crews were out in force because of THE GAME. I’d never seen anything quite like it. Under normal circumstances I’d have felt a might uncomfortable, but now I basked in the ebb and flow of human closeness.
I had planned on waking early the morning of the game. I got my wish via 2 dozen unruly pubescent football players and their equally inconsiderate parental supervisors. Outside my door a din of screaming and shouting shattered my slumber. Though this did not alter my jovial mood for it was GAMEDAY!! LSU vs. Florida, 4 vs. 11, SEC West meets SEC East, on national television, 12 hours from now, and I was summoned to tailgate, making a pit stop for gas, ice and a coffee for my son first.
Like animals readying for the oncoming deluge; vendors, students, and alumni scurried to and fro to make final preparations for what was about to occur. When I arrived at the predetermined designated area, several canopies had already been erected, some LSU revelers and some Florida fans. This ratio would eventually become extremely one sided. Good times were had by all. Cold drinks and hot women were the order of the day. Trash talking was at a minimum. Comparisons were made over what form of suicide or outbursts of anarchy were to occur if the Gators lost. However, no sooner were the projected laments over, then just as quickly calls for what type of celebration would accompany a Gator win. This manic see-saw of emotion was understandable but nerve-racking. In twenty minutes the game would start.
Like Noah’s animals making their way to the Ark, waves of humanity made their way to Ben Hill Griffin Stadium. The buzz in the air could only be compared to high tension wires anticipating an impending downpour. After making our way to our seats, or really “stands” since no one sat for the entire game, the noise reached a crescendo for kickoff. The energy behind it had been building for days, and now it was time to set it free. The howling wind of this storm was replaced by the clamor of rabid Gator fans. The first pass play set the tone for the evening, a tipped aerial to Percy Harvin for the first of many UF scores.
When proposed outcomes were discussed prior to the game, a Gator blowout of LSU was not one of them. Maybe that’s what made this victory so utter and complete. The final score of 51-21 was the culmination of a concentrated force that seemed to will the team to victory, an event of which I was fortunate enough to be part of.
There are several such happenings that the entire sporting community elevates to said event status. The Super Bowl, where the game itself is rarely super, The Daytona 500, The Kentucky Derby, the World Series, even though only teams from America play in it. There are a couple of college football rivalries that are annual events. Ohio State-Michigan, Harvard-Yale, California-Stanford, are always games of note despite won-lost records that may indicate otherwise. Then there is the special game that occurs because the stars have aligned just right. Two happened on this fall Saturday in October, Texas versus Oklahoma, and Florida versus LSU. I was fortunate enough to experience all of the hoopla of the latter.
Each fall for the past five years I have attended a football game at the University of Florida. It’s the annual rite of father and son bonding. My son graduated from UF last May, and is now a graduate student there. Past opponents were Arkansas, Kentucky, Vanderbilt, Alabama, and last year the Gators squared off against my alma mater Florida Atlantic University; noble foes all, but lacking elite status. This year was different. Just a week ago Florida suffered a most ignominious loss at home at the hands of the University of Mississippi, their first defeat of the season. The Polls now ranked UF 11th. LSU on the other hand was undefeated and ranked 4th. This game would have SEC and National Championship implications. I was so excited I could barely contain myself.
Normally I get to Gainesville early Friday afternoon. However, I had business in Orlando on Thursday, so I got to campus a day early. Each and every subsequent activity after my arrival was significant in some way, shape or form.
Thursday night for the first time since I gave up consuming alcoholic beverages, I closed a bar. My metabolism severely out of whack due to the copious amounts of Diet Coke I consumed. While my son and his friends continued to slay brain cells somewhere else, I retreated to my motel room to count the popcorn on the ceiling. This was just a prelude of what was in store.
Friday I arose relatively early considering what time I had retired the previous evening. I made my way to my son’s house to check my e-mail for a pending appointment with an administrator at the University Athletic Association. I found Cory in a state of ill-repair due to a lack of sleep and a slight overindulgence of libations. After confirmation of my appointment, Cory was none too pleased that he needed to get his shit together for a 10:30 meeting. Like the champ that he is, he made a strategic phone call to find out the building location where the meeting would be taking place. We made our way to campus amid the bustle of students going to and from class. There were no signs of the storm that was approaching the university grounds.
Once my obligations were completed, with splendid results I might add, we went to the new football offices. Only authorized personnel were granted access to the upstairs, Cory fell into this category. After perusing the lobby where the BCS Championship trophies and Heisman awards of past winners, I made my way into the inner sanctum of UF football. Verne Lundquist and Gary Danielson of CBS sports were there in preparation for the following evenings broadcast. Cory introduced me to no less than a dozen of his co-workers. I tried mightily to remember their names, but there would be dozens more such introductions as the weekend wore on, and to remember them all would be a feat indeed. As we made our way past coach’s offices, and meeting rooms, yes there is more than one, we were greeted by Head football coach Urban Meyer. My weekend certainly was starting off in grand fashion. Cory’s supervisor offered us bracelets which granted us access to the pizza party football staff luncheon, we accepted graciously. At this point I’m feeling truly grateful to be Cory’s father. He really knows how to show someone a good time.
The preparations for the following day’s festivities began in earnest with the purchase of alcoholic beverages to be put on ice. Exhausted from lack of sleep, coupled with all the walking that morning, I felt a need for a little game I like to call “Checking my Eyelids for Cracks.” Cory agreed. I returned to my motel. Only I didn’t sleep as hoped. Cory requested that I return to his house around 5:30. To give myself plenty of time to travel the 4.5 miles, I left at 5:00. The first signs that something was brewing on the horizon was the storm surge of humanity converging on Gainesville. Every traffic light was sufficiently backed up that waiting for three cycles of change was not uncommon. I called to say I’d be late. My voice must have sounded giddy, because the electricity in the air was palpable. I could hardly contain my excitement. Again, Cory and I made our way to mid-town this time with several newly arrived out of town friends in tow. The sole reason for this influx was THE GAME. The bars were jammed beyond capacity because of THE GAME. Streets were impassible because of THE GAME. Television news crews were out in force because of THE GAME. I’d never seen anything quite like it. Under normal circumstances I’d have felt a might uncomfortable, but now I basked in the ebb and flow of human closeness.
I had planned on waking early the morning of the game. I got my wish via 2 dozen unruly pubescent football players and their equally inconsiderate parental supervisors. Outside my door a din of screaming and shouting shattered my slumber. Though this did not alter my jovial mood for it was GAMEDAY!! LSU vs. Florida, 4 vs. 11, SEC West meets SEC East, on national television, 12 hours from now, and I was summoned to tailgate, making a pit stop for gas, ice and a coffee for my son first.
Like animals readying for the oncoming deluge; vendors, students, and alumni scurried to and fro to make final preparations for what was about to occur. When I arrived at the predetermined designated area, several canopies had already been erected, some LSU revelers and some Florida fans. This ratio would eventually become extremely one sided. Good times were had by all. Cold drinks and hot women were the order of the day. Trash talking was at a minimum. Comparisons were made over what form of suicide or outbursts of anarchy were to occur if the Gators lost. However, no sooner were the projected laments over, then just as quickly calls for what type of celebration would accompany a Gator win. This manic see-saw of emotion was understandable but nerve-racking. In twenty minutes the game would start.
Like Noah’s animals making their way to the Ark, waves of humanity made their way to Ben Hill Griffin Stadium. The buzz in the air could only be compared to high tension wires anticipating an impending downpour. After making our way to our seats, or really “stands” since no one sat for the entire game, the noise reached a crescendo for kickoff. The energy behind it had been building for days, and now it was time to set it free. The howling wind of this storm was replaced by the clamor of rabid Gator fans. The first pass play set the tone for the evening, a tipped aerial to Percy Harvin for the first of many UF scores.
When proposed outcomes were discussed prior to the game, a Gator blowout of LSU was not one of them. Maybe that’s what made this victory so utter and complete. The final score of 51-21 was the culmination of a concentrated force that seemed to will the team to victory, an event of which I was fortunate enough to be part of.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Giving the Devil Her Due
I fully intended to share my woeful four day period of sports catastrophe, but after last week’s blog, I must give the devil her due. The sports lamentation will have to wait.
I am a registered Republican. I once belonged to the Young Republicans Club of Morris County New Jersey. I have never voted across party lines for a Presidential election since 1976, when I became eligible for the privilege. However, these last few years have taken a severe toll on my political loyalties. I feel the same way as Ronald Reagan did when he switched sides; “I didn’t leave the Republican Party, the Republican Party left me.” So as I sat down in my chair and a half to watch the Vice-Presidential debate last Thursday, I was armed for bear, or moose if you will. Readied with a bag of popcorn and a bottle of G2, I settled in for what I thought would be the 21st century version of the Christians versus the lions, except we get to watch on live television. I was rudely disappointed. Much to my chagrin, Sarah Palin did not completely embarrass herself and her party...only partially.
Ms., “golly gee” I hope she doesn’t take offense that I use the politically correct title, even though she quite obviously would rather be called missus, setting the women’s movement back further than their inability to get the ERA amendment ratified; Ms. Palin addressed the questions posed with confidence, no matter how vague and ramblin’ and off topic they may have been. She did not stammer, she did not flinch, and she did not wilt. Good for her. However, let’s look at what may have caused some of her pearls of wisdom to be a little off the mark “dadgummit.”
First, let’s be clear about politicians. They are spin doctors of the nth degree. And “jiminy,” they have a tendency to be a might loquacious. This results in an extremely beneficial symbiotic relationship between these two aspects of one’s persona. This debate had plenty of both characteristics on display. Good thing “Gwen” the moderator kept time. Senator Biden and “Gwen” were obviously close since “Joe,” frequently addressed her by this moniker. Biden, who is admittedly longwinded, had a field day flauntin’ the time constraints. Governor Palin not once protested, perhaps due to the fact she never lifted her head from whatever it was she was scribblin’ while Biden orated. What was she writin’ anyway, it was much more than takin’ notes? It seemed as though she was takin’ an oral exam on the fly and forgot to study. It’s a “heckuva” good thing her pen didn’t run out of ink. (Insert homey symbolic wink here.)
It’s a given both participants made accusations that stretched the truth. What I’d like to discuss are some things that annoyed me.
Joe Biden's hair irks me because I’m also losin’ mine and I’m unable to achieve such an attractive arrangement of limited growth.
My wife made the observation that the debate didn’t sound like a debate at all. It sounded like campaignin’, I concur. Sometimes both participants ventured so far off the beaten path that they could have used a GPS system and still not found their way back to the question that “Gwen” asked.
Buzz words make me vomit. I still don’t understand the purpose they serve. If you insert them into your blather do you get into a special club that gives airline miles the more you use them? “Maverick” and “Reform” were used so often that they no longer make any sense to me.
Governor Palin and Senator Biden had a penchant for beating the livin’ shit out of an issue, as if you didn’t get their pointless points after the fifth time you heard it. Did you know that Alaska was an energy producin’ state? I heard the same crap so frequently that I was reminded of the Bugs Bunny episode Hare Brush, where “My name is Elmer Fudd. I’m a millionaire, and I own a mansion and a yacht” is a main punchline because it’s uttered so many times.
I grew weary of the competition to see who was more “middle class” in an effort to relate to “Joe Six-Pack.” Both references offended me. According to John McCain, if your household income is less than $60,000, you are now considered lower middle class. If that’s the new criteria, neither nominee can relate to me. Let me give a “shout out” (see how hip I am) to all my “peeps” in the same boat. Also, as an alcoholic, I am insulted they think all I can put away is a six-pack. I used to drink that before I left the house in the mornin’. Out of the loop again!
Some random observations if I may be so bold. Several political pundits said that Biden and Palin “sparred” with each other. If so, they did with those oversized boxin’ gloves that you see at kids birthday parties.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but are we trying to “conserve our hydrocarbons?” I thought a hydrocarbon was an organic compound found in fossil fuels.
I did not realize “visitations in hospitals” were to be considered when same sex relationships were concerned about work related benefits.
Was Biden or Palin aware that we had a financial crisis that accompanied the last real estate boom and bust in the late ‘80s when my house was foreclosed on?
I certainly hope class rank does not determine your ability to “knowing how to win a war.” Custer finished last in his class at West Point and his ability to defeat the Sioux proved grossly inadequate. Maybe fifth from the bottom is substantially more adept at determining which plan of action to pursue.
What exactly are “National Security Freedoms?” Isn’t that an oxymoron? I sure am thankful that our government makes me feel “free” by tappin' my phone.
Wasn’t this a Vice-Presidential debate; and if so why did take an hour and five minutes before the first Dick Chaney reference? He’s still alive isn’t he? I don’t know anymore. His sightings are less frequent than UFOs.
I was pleased to see Governor Palin give “props” to her “homeboy” (am I relatin’ to everyone?) Ronald Reagan, for America being the “City on the Hill,” quote. It’s good to see it’s not just the sports journalists who seem to believe everything began in 1980. The quote should have been attributed to John Winthrop, the first elected Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1629, only missed the authenticity by 379 years. But hey, they were both elected governors once.
Did I drop enough “g”s in this piece to allow me to “sit around your kitchen table?”
No? Okay, Let me state what I have stated previously so I can state what needs to be stated time and again though no one seems to understand why any of this isn’t stated more often; or is it because it has been stated so frequently that we lose sight of the fact that it hasn’t been stated enough? What was the question again?
I am a registered Republican. I once belonged to the Young Republicans Club of Morris County New Jersey. I have never voted across party lines for a Presidential election since 1976, when I became eligible for the privilege. However, these last few years have taken a severe toll on my political loyalties. I feel the same way as Ronald Reagan did when he switched sides; “I didn’t leave the Republican Party, the Republican Party left me.” So as I sat down in my chair and a half to watch the Vice-Presidential debate last Thursday, I was armed for bear, or moose if you will. Readied with a bag of popcorn and a bottle of G2, I settled in for what I thought would be the 21st century version of the Christians versus the lions, except we get to watch on live television. I was rudely disappointed. Much to my chagrin, Sarah Palin did not completely embarrass herself and her party...only partially.
Ms., “golly gee” I hope she doesn’t take offense that I use the politically correct title, even though she quite obviously would rather be called missus, setting the women’s movement back further than their inability to get the ERA amendment ratified; Ms. Palin addressed the questions posed with confidence, no matter how vague and ramblin’ and off topic they may have been. She did not stammer, she did not flinch, and she did not wilt. Good for her. However, let’s look at what may have caused some of her pearls of wisdom to be a little off the mark “dadgummit.”
First, let’s be clear about politicians. They are spin doctors of the nth degree. And “jiminy,” they have a tendency to be a might loquacious. This results in an extremely beneficial symbiotic relationship between these two aspects of one’s persona. This debate had plenty of both characteristics on display. Good thing “Gwen” the moderator kept time. Senator Biden and “Gwen” were obviously close since “Joe,” frequently addressed her by this moniker. Biden, who is admittedly longwinded, had a field day flauntin’ the time constraints. Governor Palin not once protested, perhaps due to the fact she never lifted her head from whatever it was she was scribblin’ while Biden orated. What was she writin’ anyway, it was much more than takin’ notes? It seemed as though she was takin’ an oral exam on the fly and forgot to study. It’s a “heckuva” good thing her pen didn’t run out of ink. (Insert homey symbolic wink here.)
It’s a given both participants made accusations that stretched the truth. What I’d like to discuss are some things that annoyed me.
Joe Biden's hair irks me because I’m also losin’ mine and I’m unable to achieve such an attractive arrangement of limited growth.
My wife made the observation that the debate didn’t sound like a debate at all. It sounded like campaignin’, I concur. Sometimes both participants ventured so far off the beaten path that they could have used a GPS system and still not found their way back to the question that “Gwen” asked.
Buzz words make me vomit. I still don’t understand the purpose they serve. If you insert them into your blather do you get into a special club that gives airline miles the more you use them? “Maverick” and “Reform” were used so often that they no longer make any sense to me.
Governor Palin and Senator Biden had a penchant for beating the livin’ shit out of an issue, as if you didn’t get their pointless points after the fifth time you heard it. Did you know that Alaska was an energy producin’ state? I heard the same crap so frequently that I was reminded of the Bugs Bunny episode Hare Brush, where “My name is Elmer Fudd. I’m a millionaire, and I own a mansion and a yacht” is a main punchline because it’s uttered so many times.
I grew weary of the competition to see who was more “middle class” in an effort to relate to “Joe Six-Pack.” Both references offended me. According to John McCain, if your household income is less than $60,000, you are now considered lower middle class. If that’s the new criteria, neither nominee can relate to me. Let me give a “shout out” (see how hip I am) to all my “peeps” in the same boat. Also, as an alcoholic, I am insulted they think all I can put away is a six-pack. I used to drink that before I left the house in the mornin’. Out of the loop again!
Some random observations if I may be so bold. Several political pundits said that Biden and Palin “sparred” with each other. If so, they did with those oversized boxin’ gloves that you see at kids birthday parties.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but are we trying to “conserve our hydrocarbons?” I thought a hydrocarbon was an organic compound found in fossil fuels.
I did not realize “visitations in hospitals” were to be considered when same sex relationships were concerned about work related benefits.
Was Biden or Palin aware that we had a financial crisis that accompanied the last real estate boom and bust in the late ‘80s when my house was foreclosed on?
I certainly hope class rank does not determine your ability to “knowing how to win a war.” Custer finished last in his class at West Point and his ability to defeat the Sioux proved grossly inadequate. Maybe fifth from the bottom is substantially more adept at determining which plan of action to pursue.
What exactly are “National Security Freedoms?” Isn’t that an oxymoron? I sure am thankful that our government makes me feel “free” by tappin' my phone.
Wasn’t this a Vice-Presidential debate; and if so why did take an hour and five minutes before the first Dick Chaney reference? He’s still alive isn’t he? I don’t know anymore. His sightings are less frequent than UFOs.
I was pleased to see Governor Palin give “props” to her “homeboy” (am I relatin’ to everyone?) Ronald Reagan, for America being the “City on the Hill,” quote. It’s good to see it’s not just the sports journalists who seem to believe everything began in 1980. The quote should have been attributed to John Winthrop, the first elected Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony in 1629, only missed the authenticity by 379 years. But hey, they were both elected governors once.
Did I drop enough “g”s in this piece to allow me to “sit around your kitchen table?”
No? Okay, Let me state what I have stated previously so I can state what needs to be stated time and again though no one seems to understand why any of this isn’t stated more often; or is it because it has been stated so frequently that we lose sight of the fact that it hasn’t been stated enough? What was the question again?
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
"Stupid is as Stupid Does"
For those of you who’ve been living on another planet these last ten years; the title is a line of dialogue from the movie Forrest Gump. The Tom Hanks vehicle adapted from the Winston Groom novelette about a dimwitted young man and his uncanny ability to be in the right place and the right time. Instead of his below average intelligence holding him back, it’s overcome by his unbridled innocence which propels him to achieve great things. The movie is quite heartwarming; epitomizing the fine wondrous lemonade made out of a life of lemons. Not knowing any better can be charming to a point.
In real life, idiocy begets more idiocy, not the bed of roses experienced by Mr. Gump. We are bombarded daily by acts of stupidity so profound it’s no wonder America has fallen in love with reality programming. Local television news journalists seem to go out of their way to find the individuals with the least amount of firing neurons, and ask their opinions on the pertinent news of the day. Most sporting event venues boast huge monitors on which at any given moment show people willing to behave in a fashion, that under normal circumstances, these same individuals would find appalling if they did these very same things in the privacy of their own home. And if the camera espies someone who thought it would be a good idea to bring their infant to said event; they’d stop just short of throwing their kid on the field, court, ice, whatever, just for a chance to be seen on the Jumbotron. With any luck at all, these same folks can be found in the background waving and giggling manically during the news journalist’s man on the street opinion pieces. These members of the populace sadly are the majority and not the minority. They are everyday men and women who obviously have been shortchanged at the intellectual cash register. We should pray for them and their offspring, if God forbid they continue to breed. However, they’ve now infiltrated mainstream American consciousness, and I’m not talking about those who continue to publicly embarrass themselves on the never ending diet of schlock television. I’m talking about the national news!
CBS has been airing excerpts of Katie Couric’s exclusive interview with vice-presidential candidate Britany Spears. Oops! I meant Sarah Palin, it’s hard to distinguish the two when you’re not looking at the screen and only have their voices to go by. She should be wearing black framed glasses out of respect for her dead brain.
This is the person John McCain and his brain trust, so to speak, thought or not, to be the best choice for the second in command of our country. Really! Is this what we’ve come to? The last time convoluted answers were this painful to listen to? At the 2007 Miss Teen America Pageant, Miss South Carolina was attempting to explain why fifteen percent of Americans couldn’t read a map.
Confucius believed that the smartest individuals should run government. That’s why he developed the most rigorous civil service examination ever devised. Well ladies and gentlemen; he’s flipping in his grave as we speak. Isn’t it bad enough we’ve had a “C” student running the zoo; I mean country, for the last eight years?
For an extra added attraction John McCain, he of the Joan Rivers smile, joined Ms. Palin for the Couric interview. It was reminiscent of an Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy routine except McCain’s hand wasn’t up the back of Palin’s jacket.
This Thursday Sarah Palin will square off in the first battle of political wits with frenetic senator Joe Biden and she is unarmed. This is true reality programming for all the masses who find those shows so enthralling. Jeff Foxworthy will be mediating this grown up version of Are you Smarter Than a Fifth Grader, well are you Ms. Palin? If there is an anabolic steroid for increasing one’s brain capacity, she’s going to need it. Unlike Tom Hanks' character, Palin finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. She inspires the reality show watching couch potatoes across the country into believing “Hey! Maybe I should get into politics. If she can do it, I can too!” Let’s hope not. In the paraphrased words of Mr. Gump, “Stupid is as …well, never mind, it’s just stupid.”
In real life, idiocy begets more idiocy, not the bed of roses experienced by Mr. Gump. We are bombarded daily by acts of stupidity so profound it’s no wonder America has fallen in love with reality programming. Local television news journalists seem to go out of their way to find the individuals with the least amount of firing neurons, and ask their opinions on the pertinent news of the day. Most sporting event venues boast huge monitors on which at any given moment show people willing to behave in a fashion, that under normal circumstances, these same individuals would find appalling if they did these very same things in the privacy of their own home. And if the camera espies someone who thought it would be a good idea to bring their infant to said event; they’d stop just short of throwing their kid on the field, court, ice, whatever, just for a chance to be seen on the Jumbotron. With any luck at all, these same folks can be found in the background waving and giggling manically during the news journalist’s man on the street opinion pieces. These members of the populace sadly are the majority and not the minority. They are everyday men and women who obviously have been shortchanged at the intellectual cash register. We should pray for them and their offspring, if God forbid they continue to breed. However, they’ve now infiltrated mainstream American consciousness, and I’m not talking about those who continue to publicly embarrass themselves on the never ending diet of schlock television. I’m talking about the national news!
CBS has been airing excerpts of Katie Couric’s exclusive interview with vice-presidential candidate Britany Spears. Oops! I meant Sarah Palin, it’s hard to distinguish the two when you’re not looking at the screen and only have their voices to go by. She should be wearing black framed glasses out of respect for her dead brain.
This is the person John McCain and his brain trust, so to speak, thought or not, to be the best choice for the second in command of our country. Really! Is this what we’ve come to? The last time convoluted answers were this painful to listen to? At the 2007 Miss Teen America Pageant, Miss South Carolina was attempting to explain why fifteen percent of Americans couldn’t read a map.
Confucius believed that the smartest individuals should run government. That’s why he developed the most rigorous civil service examination ever devised. Well ladies and gentlemen; he’s flipping in his grave as we speak. Isn’t it bad enough we’ve had a “C” student running the zoo; I mean country, for the last eight years?
For an extra added attraction John McCain, he of the Joan Rivers smile, joined Ms. Palin for the Couric interview. It was reminiscent of an Edgar Bergen and Charlie McCarthy routine except McCain’s hand wasn’t up the back of Palin’s jacket.
This Thursday Sarah Palin will square off in the first battle of political wits with frenetic senator Joe Biden and she is unarmed. This is true reality programming for all the masses who find those shows so enthralling. Jeff Foxworthy will be mediating this grown up version of Are you Smarter Than a Fifth Grader, well are you Ms. Palin? If there is an anabolic steroid for increasing one’s brain capacity, she’s going to need it. Unlike Tom Hanks' character, Palin finds herself in the wrong place at the wrong time. She inspires the reality show watching couch potatoes across the country into believing “Hey! Maybe I should get into politics. If she can do it, I can too!” Let’s hope not. In the paraphrased words of Mr. Gump, “Stupid is as …well, never mind, it’s just stupid.”
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