Day 2 – Albuquerque: The rainbow connection

What a difference a day and cold front makes. Twenty-four hours before, I felt like I was in a steam bath (with clothes) in Oklahoma City, as it was over 100 degrees.
But in Isotope Park in south Albuquerque, on the campus of the University of New Mexico, it was a gorgeous 73 degrees, with a breeze and cool, intermittent summer rain – Mother’s Nature air conditioning.
Day 2 had been planned as a long drive and a reward to myself with a visit to this ballpark to see a team named (in 2003) for an episode of “The Simpsons.”
But when baseball slugger Manny Ramirez decided to begin his rehab assignment here (coming off his 50-game suspension for using a banned substance), it became … AN EVENT! And, as a retired journalist, how I LOVE events!
I have seen minor league contests all over the nation – from Durham, N.C. to Fishkill, N.Y. to Lansing, Mich. to Corpus Christi, Little Rock, Oklahoma City and San Antonio; each possessing its little bit of uniqueness about it. This stopover was quite special because of the background view – the towering Sandia Mountains past the right field area. To me, it provided an aura of peacefulness that was MORE than easy on the eyes.
Fans could enjoy excellent seats in the concrete and steel sections or lay on the cool grass in the right field section – complete with children’s rides and a carousel.
The game was nicely presented by the organization, with plenty of between inning frivolity, giveaways and spirit (as it should be on the Minor League level). The lower deck reserve seats cost just $11 – FAR, FAR, FAR lower than Class AA Frisco at $18, which should serve as a lesson in the tight economic market. You shouldn’t overcharge based on what you could in the past.
As for the game itself, Manny went 0-for-1 and a walk, which made the sellout crowd of over 13,000 (the local Isotopes only average 7,700) more than restless. Just how many of those spectators remained in the 15th inning, when the Sounds (a franchise once owned by country star Conway Twitty) “edged” the ‘Topes 8-3 was problematical. I wasn’t among them. After three hours and nine innings (including a nice two-run rally in the bottom of the ninth), I called it a night. In my old age, the concept of “it ain’t over until it’s over” gets lost when the body is screaming to sleep.
As said, the game had a little of everything, including a slightly intoxicated fan (a woman), who ran onto the field and just sprinted across the outfield from right field to left) because security and the Albuquerque police “collared” her. In truth, she just ran out of gas but that didn’t prevent six burly men from escorting her to the pokie with a painful WWE arm bar (not sure it was necessary; she seemed willing and too tired to resist).
Thankfully, she kept her clothes ON. However, if she was trying to find Manny, he had long since departed Isotope Park (nicknamed “The Lab”) – not wanting to get hurt in the slick, wet field conditions.
During the middle innings, the heavens opened up and rain cascaded off the mountains, sending the fans scurrying for cover – meaning most of them were standing right behind me in that most claustrophobic manner. It offered me a chance to make social behavioral comments to the guy next to me – a retired dairy deliveryman named … Charlie.
I couldn’t help but notice that the women with the largest chests also held the larger cups of beer – including the arrested female. My observations hold no scientific basis; it just seemed to be that way on this night.
While the crowd was a blessing for the Isotopes management, the onslaught overwhelmed the facilities in many ways. The concourse resembled a New York subway station at rush hour and the concessions were not prepared.
I stood in line and ordered a diet cola in a “souvenir” cup – I made my order in plain English – but the man serving me returned with a large all-white Styrofoam cup.
“That’s not a souvenir cup,” I noted.
“It is tonight,” he responded with a clear “deer in the headlights” look. He then fumbled around trying to execute a simple credit transaction (I refuse the cola).
“You haven’t done this before I take it,” I asked, with a sympathetic tone. People who are completely unfamiliar with retail tasks hurt the process more than help. The “warm body” theory often reveals the Peter Principle in full bloom – you rise to the level of your own incompetency.
“How could you?” he said, with an upward glance which said to me, “Get me the hell out of here.”
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Charlie and I could not think of any current baseball player who could draw such a crowd to Albuquerque, a city steeped in deep Los Angeles Dodger tradition, going back decades to when the Dukes were the team (and San Antonio was the AA squad). Perhaps if Barry Bonds were to stage such an event, it would be comparable. It WAS that way in 2006 when Roger Clemens came to Corpus Christi for a rehab start and so many people flooded the ballpark, the fire marshals had to step in and limit the capacity.
Manny will play tonight and then go to Lake Elsinore to join the Inland Empire 66ers for a contest and a weekend series in San Bernardino – two eventual stops on MY minor league journey. My rehab is ongoing, however.
So Manny plays four innings, decides not to risk a slip and a hamstring pull (he is susceptible to that injury) and heads out in the fifth inning. But then, a funny thing happened…
It stopped raining.
The breeze settled into a gentle wisp.
The sun peeked through the low-hanging clouds and revealed a perfect blue sky through the holes.
And … a rainbow appeared over the right field stands.
It was something I had never seen before at a baseball game. And the beauty of the sport is this: you never know WHAT you will see at a game and it could be something you’ve never seen before … or since.
So it was a beautiful night after all.

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The longest portion of the entire trip has been completed and I felt every one of the 500-plus miles.
One immediately knows when New Mexico begins as you see the mesas on the horizons after the only stretch of I-40 in Texas with expansive beauty – west of Amarillo and following the world’s largest feed lot and (consequently) biggest collection of … methane. In that June 100-degree heat, the smell alone can knock you dizzy while driving.
Today (actually it’s early in the A.M.), I will make one of those coin-flip decisions between taking the safe Eisenhower Interstate routes down to Phoenix/Scottsdale and go … wandering for something different. Route A is a “been there, seen that” situation but I AM quite tired …
Too bad I don’t have an online poll for the “readers” to decide. Perhaps a visit to one or two national park sites will be the answer.
Until then … with more rainbows to see … Shalom!

Seen in da (OKC) house!

Yes, it WAS Jennie Finch, the country's most famous softball player and two-time gold medalist.
She was a few rows over in the section, watching and waiting for her husband, pitcher Casey Daigle of the Round Rock Express, to appear in a dull 2-0 game (he didn't).
She was there with her toddler son and other relatives.
And YES, she is as good looking as advertised - athletic, TALL, very blonde, stunning white teeth, and gorgeous even without makeup.
She was gracious with the fans that did approach for photos and autographs (although she wasn't exactly flooded in the city that HOSTS the NCAA Women's Softball Tournament, which she won).
Nice way to escape a boring contest in the humidity of AT&T Bricktown Ballpark.

Day 1 – Oklahoma City

Author’s Note: For the interest of anyone out in the vast blogosphere, I will attempt to report various “interesting” (as subjective a word as can exist in the English language) aspects of this almost 20-day road trip (for me at least).
The first obvious thing one notices when driving from Dallas to Oklahoma City is the cleanliness … on the Oklahoma side. There are clean lines of sight, without the Texas distraction of porn houses, mobile home lots, trash and other unsightly monstrosities that litter Interstate-35 North.
One can only wonder this: If Oklahoma can maintain its interstate highways in a pleasing manner, why can’t its big neighbor to the south?
Even Oklahoma City’s well-traveled center city highways appear FAR more neat and crisp than anything around Dallas, Houston, Fort Worth, Austin or San Antonio. I didn’t see anyone tossing out cigarette butts (which would be quite dangerous given the extreme heat and dryness of the surrounding grasslands). No Oklahoma pickup was seen with loose trash flying out of the back beds onto the roads.
I’ve written this before and will continue to do so until the situation is remedied. I-35 and I-45 are two of the WORST drives for any motorist (going from DFW to Houston, Austin or San Antonio) in America! I would be hard pressed for anyone to trump them for the vast collection of sheer scenic ugliness AND optic trashiness. In those two areas, we ARE number 1!
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You also notice one more thing, beginning at the state lines between Oklahoma and Texas – the signs and symbols of economic development that Texas refuses to engage. There are perhaps a dozen casinos just on that 135-mile portion of I-35 to Oklahoma City and each one seems to be a potential job creator and business magnet for many small communities – not just the capital area.
They look clean, well-tended (unlike some of the roadside joints I remember seeing in rural Louisiana a few years ago) and even on a sweltering Tuesday morning/noon, there were cars at each ONE of them. I’d bet the Thackerville casino, better known as WinStar, had scores of Texas license plates in those lots.
WinStar, for the record, has also become a fairly big entertainment center with weekend concerts drawing fairly big name stars (true, some of them might be a tad past their prime but the Gipsy Kings went from the Meyerson Symphony Center one night to WinStar the next).
Many of the casinos (operated by Native American tribes) looked like ultra-modern shopping centers or movie theaters while WinStar has unveiled a sectional appearance where a different country/culture is represented (English, French, Italian, etc.). Hell, Vegas has entire hotels doing the exact same thing and they consume most of the Strip.
Each casino, as said, represents revenue for the tribes AND for the state of Oklahoma. This isn’t a new tax, a new fee, a new charge, a new add-on and no one is forcing ANYONE to be there. They get their revenue and provide a little amusement, enjoyment and fun in the process.
They also create jobs – not just for the Native Americans (Lord knows they need them) but for everyone. In turn, there are satellite business surrounding these places (hotels, restaurants, shops, gas stations, etc.), which help expand the local economies.
The ridiculous, and now unnatural, resistance, in Texas is beyond comprehension; it is bordering on madness. In a time when our state budget, and local school and municipal budgets, are being squeezed dry, like lemons for a Route 44 drink at Sonic, to simply sweep this viable revenue source off the table, for some mythical “morality” argument is just plain old Stone Age thinking. Our legislators in Austin would rather open their arms and hearts to massive polluters and unscrupulous businesses before considering admission into the 21st century and allowing Texas to approve casino gambling.
If such approval were to happen, you’d see one of the biggest and explosive expansions of construction and job manufacturing ANYWHERE in the U.S. and, perhaps, not seen since the late 1970s oil boom when Texas was labeled a SuperState.
All it takes is a little guts and a dash of courage – neither of which can be found in Austin (especially with that coward governor, “Helmethair” Perry, possessing the veto pen).
All it takes is for the voters to make it perfectly clear that incumbents are being tossed out of their offices because of their opposition ot THIS issue. Then things WILL change.
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The shortest drive of the entire trip has been completed and, hopefully, tomorrow, the longest stretch of highway 540 miles of I-40 in around 8-9 hours (resembling nothing of the fabled old Route 66), will be tolerable in the 100-plus degree heat that has engulfed Texas and Oklahoma.
The Escape feels a tad claustrophobic with luggage and boxes everywhere within eyesight.
Tomorrow’s highlight will be seeing the Albuquerque Isotopes play Nashville with the latest steroid abuser, Manny Ramirez, in the ABQ lineup as part of his “rehab” assignment. Tuesday’s game was sold out in advance and this game might be as well … but my ticket is bought and paid at the advanced will call window.
I AM the world’s biggest proponent of planning ahead for spontaneity.
Until then … with hopefully a better Wi-Fi connection … Shalom!

Long time, no write

I've been taking a blogger's time off from blogging. There's been TOO much to discuss and frankly, I don't want to swim in that sewer. I will blog during my upcoming vacation trip to New Mexico, Las Vegas, California and Arizona.

I might add a few golden oldies from past columns.

But I don't want to get into the diatribe about Sonia Sotomayor, General Motors, or Obama's toppings on his burgers. It's just too damn much and too much shit being said out there.

If you sleep with the pigs, you get stinky and I hate stinky.

Now if you wanna talk grandchildren, we can do...

Hail to the GM Chief Pontiac

As a Detroit native, it saddens me to see the demise of the Pontiac brand from the landscape. It means there will only be memories of such names as Bonneville, Grand Prix, Grand Am and of course, the Firebird and GTO. My third car in Texas was a Pontiac.
It will be buried along with that other long-standing GM brand, Oldsmobile, which WAS my Daddy's car at one time and had given us the Rocket 88, the Ninety-Nine, the Cutlass (a memorable vehicle in our lives).
It is also the name of the stadium in Lansing where the Class A Lansing Lugnuts play - Oldsmobile Park. The entire stadium is ringed by pictures and old advertising creations featuring a defunct auto brand.
But no more Oldsmobile, no more Pontiac, no more American Motors, no more Eagle, no more Avantis, no more ... lots of names from the past.
SO as a tribute to the late, great Pontiac (a fine car and a fine heritage) here are the best in pop culture featuring Pontiacs.
Song: G.T.O. by Ronny and the Daytonas - as classic a 1960s car song as EVER, ever recorded.
"You gotta turn her on, wind it up, blow it out, GTO!"
Movie: "Pontiac Moon" in 1994 with Ted Danson but the BEST known Pontiac was the 1977 Firebird driven by Burt Reynolds in "Smokey and the Bandit" (and S&B II).
A moment of silence please for the Pontiac.

When you ASS-U-ME

I am simultaneously amused and tired of the right-wing, holier-than-thou bloggers in the world blaming liberals/left-leaning thinkers and anyone who disagrees with their narrow-minded POVs for all the ills upon himn, society and the country (which he believes is the only stick that stires the world's drink).
They assumes they know with such certainty what people think, say and do without the benefit of the facts. And I can simply go back to that age-old explanation about the word, ASS-U-ME.
BUT ...
if I believe that the workers are MORE responsible for the work accomplished than the executives; that airline workers sacrificed more than the executives to rescure certain companies and deserve to have some of those sacrifices returned before an exec receives one penny of bonus;
if I believe we should melt some of the polar ice cap surrounding relationships with countries like Cuba and China when it benefits US financially and economically; and that tourism is one way to enrich and demonstrate the benefits of our way of life to outsiders;
if I believe that people who want to spread "the American Dream: to foreign lands (whether they want it or not) but won't extend the same opportunity to as many people who live here , as possible ... then color me a proud liberal. I will resemble that remark.
But don't pretend to know what I'm thinking on any particular issue without asking me. Search for my e-mail address and ask me directly; I'm not scared to answer anyone.
As for tea parties? They're for little girls; real guys do protest barbecues!!!!!!

God rest "The Bird"

I was in Detroit in 1976 (actually living in Ann Arbor) until June when I came by Trailways to Texas. My last game that season was on a Friday night in June against the California Angels, part of a crowd in excess of 44,000 (cap. 56,000 in the old Tiger Stadium) - there to see this young phenomenon - Mark "The Bird" Fidrych, who died last Monday at the tender age of 54 on his farm - the result of an accident.
All of us was thoroughly entertained, dazzled and inspired by the young man from Massachusetts. On that night, and ANY night he pitched at home, the city was a collection of ONLY Tiger fans - watching as "The Bird" gestured to the plate, talked to the ball, pranced and jumped and did what can only be called a precursor to the fist pump for his own enjoyment.
Detroit won 6-4; Fidrych came out of the dugout from a crowd-demanded curtain call as if he were totally shocked that he would sought for public adulation. He just couldn't believe it.
Neither could we and Tiger fans just LOVED it.
He then started the All-Star game, won 19 games that year and was the toast of a city that only nine years before was engulfed in the flames of racial division. But the next season, he hurt his arm (years later discovered to have been a torn rotater cuff when there was no surgical remedy), and just as quick as he ascended, he was gone.
In later years, Fidrych expressed absolutely NO regret about his professional career. He just wanted to play baseball and got the chance. He never sought fame - then and in later years. Humble from the start, he seems like some sort of freak compared to the press-happy, me-first players too often populating the game.
And NO player in the years since 1976 has captivated the American public he did. I doubt anyone will in the future.
Some Tigers when they die will be missed; Mark "The Bird" Fidrych - a Tiger for less than three seasons - will be mourned.
God rest his wonderful soul.

ER trivia: Oscar winners and nominees who appeared

I am still mourning the loss of "ER" as my Thursday staple for television. After 15 years, it will be difficult to adjust to something else - "Southland" simply doesn't do it for me. "ER" was simply ... the best - up there with "NYPD Blue" and "Hill Street Blues" for changing TV dramas.
So a little trivia: Who appeared on the show that either WON Academy Awards OR ... were nominated for Oscars?
Answer as follows:
Winners: Sally Field, Red Buttons, Fores Whitaker, Lou Gossett Jr., Susan Sarandon, Louise Fletcher and Ernest Borgnine (who, at 90, is the oldest LIVING Oscar winner ... I think and who was quietly magnificent in the final episode. He wasn't just "McHale's Navy;" he was/is a fine, fine actor). Of course, George Clooney started on "ER" and won and Oscar for "Syriana."
Nominees: Don Cheadle, Eileen Brennan, Piper Laurie, Mary McDonnell, William H. Macy, James Woods, Mare Winningham, Mickey Rooney, Djimon Hounsou, Angela Bassett, Julie Delpy, Emile Hirsch, James Cromwell, Alan Alda, Hal Holbrook.
What attracted these outstanding actors to the show? Outstanding, insightful material. Thursdays and television will NOT be the same.

If Schilling go into Hall of Fame, Jack Morris leads him there!

IF the now-retired pitcher Curt Schilling is deserving (says many) of getting voted into the Hall of Fame, then former Tiger hurler Jack Morris better be ahead of him.
Let's go to the videotape and numbers:
Schilling 20-year REGULAR SEASON CAREER:
216-146,
3.46 ERA,
83 complete games,
20 shutouts,
3,261 Ks;
20-game winner 3 times;
6-time all-star;
no Cy Youngs.
Morris 18-year REGULAR SEASON CAREER:
254-186,
3.90 ERA,
175 complete games,
28 shutouts,
2,478 Ks;
20-game winner 3 times;
5-time all-star;
no Cy Youngs.
Schilling POST SEASON CAREER:
11-2,
2.23 ERA,
4 complete games,
128 Ks;
3 World Series titles (Ariz., Boston)
Morris POST SEASON CAREER:
7-4,
3.80 ERA,
5 complete games,
3 WS titles (Det., Tor., Minn.).
Jack Morris' numbers are absolutely comparable. He was the premier starting pitcher of the 1980s, having won MORE games as a starter than any other pitcher. Yet he gets NO respect.
Schilling MIGHT get in because of this reputation for his post-season performances, which were superb. But so was Morris - 3-for-3 on WS teams.
I rest my case!

Great acting year ever

I was watching Turner Classic Movies the other day and began to think about what year should be considered the greatest year for actors in the male category.
Most movie buffs consider 1939 the best year for movies when Gone with the Wind, Wizard of Oz, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, Wuthering Heights, The Women, Gunga Din, Beau Geste, Destry Rides Again, The Young Mr. Lincoln, Stagecoach, Of Mice and Men, Goodbye, Mr. Chips and Dark Victory led a parade of great films.
Among male actors, it would have to be a battle between these three years – 1962, 1946 and 1982.
Just look at the various best actor nominees:
In 1982, the field included Dustin Hoffman in “Tootsie” (truly his best role aside from “Midnight Cowboy”), Jack Lemmon in “Missing” (a stunning underplayed role in a powerful Costa-Graves film), Peter O’Toole in “My Favorite Year” (hilarious and heartbreaking as aging actor Alan Swamm), Paul Newman in “The Verdict” (robbed of his Oscar as the alcoholic lawyer given one last case) and eventual winner Ben Kingsley as “Ghandi” (brillaint but not like Newman).
In 1946, the field was led by Laurence Olivier as “Henry V,” Larry Parks in “The Jolson Story,” Gregory Peck in “The Yearling,” James Stewart in his career-defining role of George Bailey in “It’s a Wonderful Life,” but the winner was Fredric March, earning his second Oscar, for “The Best Years of Our Lives.”
All were brilliant performances.
But in 1962, look what was up for the Academy Award (and consider the movies themselves):
Marcello Mastroianni in the classic Italian farce, “Divorce-Italian Style;
Burt Lancaster's moving protryal of Robert Stroud, known as “Birdman of Alcatraz;”
Jack Lemmon's gut-wrenching Joe Clay, devastated by alcoholism in Blake Edwards’ “Days of Wine and Roses" (yes – the man who did “The Pink Panther” did this as well);
Peter O’Toole's stunning movie debut as T.E. Lawrence in “Lawrence of Arabia;”
and the deserved winner – Gregory Peck as the screen’s most beloved lawyer, Atticus Finch in “To Kill a Mockingbird.”
Can think politics and sports ALL the time.

Chrysler: a legacy of problems

Back in the time of my youth, I spent several summers in my teens working for my father at his company, which was in commercial printing. It did everything from major advertising posters, to colorful boxes for toys – you name it; it printed it.
But the backbone of the firm’s financial existence, in Detroit, Mich., was the automobile industry and the biggest client was Chrysler Motors. The biggest annual job for his company was printing the hundreds of thousands of handbooks for each new car owner, found in each vehicle’s glove department. And while Chrysler was the three in the Big Three, and not nearly as big as Ford or General Motors, it was the lifeblood of that company – the blood that each worker in that plant – from printer to stockman to executive – depended upon.
Dad’s company was no different than thousands of businesses across southeastern Michigan and the Midwest. One was interlinked with another and one small crack in the chain was felt all the way down the line. It was true in the late 1960s and it is true today – except the chain is much smaller and the links break MUCH easier than back in the day.
Even then, Chrysler was always in “trouble.” There was always talk of it closing down, being gobbled up by either Ford or GM; going the way of American Motors and Studebaker (remember the Rambler and the Avanti?). Somehow, Chrysler always survived because it knew its place and knew its strengths – engineering. Chrysler ALWAYS was known for having the best BUILT, best engineered cars – only they were NOT the most popular and never the cheapest (unlike Chevrolets or Fords).
The major developments in a car’s engineering and handling were usually developed by Chrysler – the hemi engine came from Chrysler, advanced in transmissions came from Chrysler (I learned to drive on a Chrysler “3000” which had PUSH BUTTON automatic transmission, located on the dashboard). Its power cars – the Dodge Charger and Plymouth Roadrunner and GTX – were TRUE muscle cars, not “sports” cars like the Mustang, Corvette or Camaro. They represented POWER, not meant to entice women for sex.
Chrysler first introduced air conditioning and torsion-spring suspensions (instead of air suspensions) and the 1961 Plymouth Valiant was the first car ever to have an alternator. The minivan was a Chrysler concept introduced to the public, and suburbia, in the 1980s to help the company through one of its many criseses.
Most police fleets were outfitted with Plymouth Furys or Dodges because they ran like tanks and lasted forever. When Elwood Blues tells his brother, Jake, about the new Bluesmobile in the movie “The Blues Brothers,” (“It’s got a cop motor, a 440-cubic-inch plant. It’s got cop tires, cop suspensions, cop shocks. It’s a model made before catalytic converters, so it’ll run good on regular gas ...”) he’s talking about a Chrysler (1974 Dodge Monaco) product.
But trouble has always followed Chrysler. Lee Iacocca had to save Chrysler in the 1980s from closure after the government passed a controversial bailout at the end of 1979. Eventually it survived but never thrived, like it did from 1936-49 when it was the second largest car company in America.
Chrysler has always thought gobbling up other failing companies would make it stronger; it assumed AMC, Jeep and others. It was sold to Daimler (Mercedes-Benz). But that German firm couldn’t keep it profitable before turning it over to Cerberus, which ran Chrysler into a zero worth company this past year.
Now the Obama Administration has essentially given Chrysler 30 days to either buddy-up with the Italian carmaker Fiat, or its curtains for Christine (which was a murderous red and white 1958 Plymouth Fury in Stephen King’s book and movie).
Just like that story, it was a beautiful car but eventually had to die. And some of us will shed a tear …

George Kell dies at 86

Another symbol from my youth has disappeared. George Kell, a Hall of Famer player and great Detroit Tiger broadcaster, died earlier this week at the age of 86 at his home in his native Arkansas.
Long before Al Kaline and Kell existed as a TV broadcast unit, he had teamed with legendary Ernie Harwell on the TV side, and was at the microphone during the 1968 World Series championship season.
My favorite Kell quote came during a road trip to Comiskey Park (the OLD Comiskey) on a Sunday when George looked over the left field wall and saw this horrific storm cloud gather.
"Ooooooo," he said. "That's some kinda ugly comin.'"
He never overspoke, never talked over the action and if it needed "'splainin'," he took care of it from personal knowledge.
George Kell was a great Detroit Tiger and a credit to the community and the organization.
His kind will never be seen again!

Rick Perry is a prick

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And they say there's NO good news today ...

Economy crashing? Darfur genocide proceeding? Homeowners tossed into teh street? Child abuse still rampant? What in the world is happening to us? Id everything going to hell in a handbasket?
By God, there IS good news in the world today. Exactly from the source you REALLY thought it would emerge.
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WASILLA, Alaska (AP) -- Levi Johnston and Bristol Palin, the teenage daughter of Gov. Sarah Palin, have broken off their engagement, he said Wednesday, about 2 1/2 months after the couple had a baby.
Johnston, 19, told The Associated Press that he and 18-year-old Bristol Palin mutually decided "a while ago" to end their relationship. He declined to elaborate as he stood outside his family's home in Wasilla, about 40 miles north of Anchorage.
He also said some details of the breakup, rumors of which had been swirling on the Internet, were inaccurate.
Bristol Palin said in a statement that she was devastated about a report on Star magazine's Web site that quoted Levi's sister, Mercede, as saying Bristol "makes it nearly impossible" to visit the teenagers' infant son, Tripp. The baby was born Dec. 27.
"Unfortunately, my family has seen many people say and do many things to `cash in' on the Palin name," said the statement, which was issued through the governor's political action committee. "Sometimes that greed clouds good judgment and the truth."
SarahPAC spokeswoman Meghan Stapleton did not immediately respond to calls seeking further information. The governor's spokesman, Bill McAllister, declined comment.
Sarah Palin revealed her daughter's pregnancy just days after being named John McCain's running mate on the Republican presidential ticket. She had said in December that her daughter and Johnston "are committed to accomplish what millions of other young parents have accomplished, to provide a loving and secure environment for their child."
In an interview that aired on Fox News last month, Bristol Palin said her fiance saw the baby every day and described him as a "hands-on" dad.
Johnston and Palin had said they were considering a summer wedding.
"We both love each other," he told the AP in October. "We both want to marry each other. And that's what we are going to do."
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God bless America and God bless the Palin family. It restores your faith and credit in what makes white trash America truly lovable and so damn predictable.
Tell me all you Republicans out there ... you REALLY REALLY want this woman as the NEXT President of the United States???? Please tell me you're serious.
Wait a minute, let me get off the floor from laughing so hard.

The state of things to come

I’d like to report to you on what will become an increasing sight here in Collin County, Texas, USA, one of the wealthier counties in Texas.
On Tuesday (Feb. 10), there was a relatively small job fair held at the Plano Centre, a small convention facility, sponsored by dice.com, a fairly new online job search site. In all, there were 11 companies represented, including the likes of Raytheon, Lennox, City of Dallas, Dallas Federal Reserve Bank, Region 10 Education Center (TEA), e-rewards, a few consulting firms and others.
This space was reserved prior to recent layoffs at Texas Instruments and other North Texas companies so organizers obviously did not know the size of the crowd to expect.
The event started at 11 a.m., but at 10:45 a.m., there was already a very long line waiting for the doors to open (several hundreds of unemployed jobseekers). The room employed soon was filled to the gills with people waiting in line for more than two HOURS just to drop off a resume (accepting no applications, except on line but didn’t tell anyone) with one firm.
By 1 p.m., the procession to ENTER the Plano Centre wrapped around the building, not counting the crowd inside the lengthy hallway, trying to get into the room. Some estimates had more than 2,000 people looking for jobs at this event.
My wife was one of those involved and kept bumping into former Texas Instruments colleagues – all trying to do the same thing – find a new working life.
Such scenes will be repeated over and over and over as reality comes to Collin County – the weakening and worsening economy is striking at the heart of exurban America, as represented by cities like Plano, Frisco, Allen and McKinney. Since Texas admits the affects of the national recession are delayed before appearing in this state, we are only beginning to witness what the rest of the nation already knows.
Times are tough and about to get MUCH tougher before it gets better.
Fortunately, for this household, my diligent spouse has managed to obtain one of the rare nuggets that others tried so hard to mine – a job interview (with the city of Dallas - but not YET official; no one is returning phone calls and she is getting antsy about it). She was instantly the envy of others; merely wishing to have someone consider them for a new job, let alone hire them.
Such is life is the NEW America RIF (reduction in force … or … rising in fear).

Hiding the truth behind the numbers

I keep reading pieces by economists and journalists in the know about the impact of the current recession (it hits home in THIS home since we are now part of those numbers). While you can make numbers tell any story you wish, nothing written yet has told the REAL problem with the current crop of layoffs/firings/RIFfing.
The WHO part of it.
It's more white collar than blue collar this go-round and that is impacting the very segment of the consumer market that usually drives the economy. The rich will stay rich (when you've got millions, losses of a few thousands don't have the same impact). But families losing that $75,000-$100,000 income (paid for folks in IT, tech, telecom and related industries) aren't spending on anything - pending passage of the fog that has engulfed their future.
I know; we're in that boat and it ain't moving anywhere. So small things one usually takes for granted (flowers for Valentine's Day, jewelry, dinners this weekend; vacations; home improvements; you name it) aren't going to be purchased anytime soon. Forget cars, let's discuss small items that runs those small businesses. Women will not get their hair or nails done so often; dry cleaning will be left for another day; doughnuts will go uneaten.
People will think twice about adding to credit card debt.
I asked this last week in the Dallas Morning News' Community Opinions section and I ask it again: how will tax cuts help, or how can consumer spending be activitated, if you don't have a job?
Numbers cannot tell THAT story, or provide that answer.

When ‘the turk’ comes to visit you

In pro football, the man who tells a rookie or free agent to “bring his playbook,” and see the head coach, because he’s about to be cut from the team, is known as “the turk.” It’s a thankless job but it’s usually happens to young players on the edge of their career.
When it happens in the corporate world, businesses rely on security; they dispense with the cute nicknames.
“The turk” came to my house Tuesday and did not leave it a happy place. My wife, a 20-year employee of a major DFW Fortune 500 corporation, was given her walking papers and kindly escorted from the Human Resources Department to her desk and then to the door – all in the span of an hour. Apparently the number of boxes she filled lengthened the departure; others (hundreds upon hundreds upon hundreds of others) took far less time to exit. All of them did it quietly even though extra security and police were visible in case someone took the entire experience personally.
As if there was any reason to do so. After all, it was only peoples’ lives at stake; now reduced to mere curious statistics within Internet news stories and blogs.
Twenty years is a long time to remain with one employer. It used to show solidarity with the corporation’s mission and purpose as well as a high degree of competence and skill by the worker. Together, they worked to produce the strong driving economy that brought this nation to the top of the economic mountain.
Today, our country does not sit atop the mountain; we barely can climb the molehill. Corporate greed and malfeasance among our financial institutions has cratered a strong economy into a whimpering shell of its former self. People demand apologies from private school basketball coaches for the outcome of stupid games yet do not seek, with the same ferocity, apologies (plus the tanned and jailed hides) of executives behind this collapse.
They just sit by and wave as the turk passes over their portal, akin to the old Jewish holiday of Passover and the story of the Israelites freed as slaves from Egypt.
Once upon a time in America, longevity and seniority stood for something; it meant quality of work, commitment to the job and devotion to the business that provided the livelihood. Today, all those attributes really don’t mean much. Too many businesses have decided to go as low as the pay scale can allow and employ the notion that damn near any breathing human being can do the same job for half the price – either here or halfway around the world.
And now the practice for so pervasive and so matter-of-fact, it has become its own verb – outsourced. And the bottom line has finally reached that level – the bottom. At least it has in this household.
I have been amused by the notion that job creation through small businesses can erase this burgeoning employment deficit; but in truth, it’s a fallacy. No number of nail salons, donut shops or itty-bitty storefronts can compensate for the wholesale, toxic dumping of the American workforce – wearing blue and white collars. And if the economy is counting on the consumer to spend his-her way out of the oncoming depression, how can that happen when there are fewer and fewer families able to spend anything … because they don’t jobs that really pay?
Now my household is like many, MANY others in this nation, in this state, in this region, in your neighborhood. We sit at the kitchen table and try to sort out what the hell to do now … now that “the turk” has had his say.
Over lunch on Tuesday, I tried to employ the “turk” sports analogy in order to make her feel “better” – if such a thing would be possible. I explained its possible origin going back to author George Plimpton and his seminal work, “Paper Lion,” and how in the movie, “Major League,” a red tag in the player’s locker signified the same thing – a giant “Not Wanted” sign for all to see.
Her eyes began to water up again, a tear for each of her years of service, and asked, “Do they do that for players after 20 years?”
No, dear, not in the America I used to know.

All you need is LOVE

“Going to the chapel
And we’re gonna get married
Going to the chapel of love.”
– The Dixie Cups

When my wife and I were married 7 ½ years ago, the ceremony was conducted by a minister, who wasas gay as you could imagine, and involved in a long-standing marriage with his partner. His being homosexual did not affect our decision to gert married whatsoever; it wasn't a guide nor deterrent to our future. The vows exchanged were just between us – regardless of what others said, felt and desired.
Hell, my son spenidng the night in the Navarro County Jail for a past seat-belt violation posed more of a problem than anything else.
But the minister being married to a man????????? Puh-lese!
So I view any debate (past, present or future) over so-called “gay marriage” as a crock of crap. I simply don’t understand all the hue and cry against permitting two people – two souls, two hearts – from enjoying the same legal protections as a man and a woman.
Is the ability to procreate the singular barrier for acceptance? Because, as we all know, you don’t have to get married to fuck and have children. Conversely, not all married couples have kids; not all of them SHOULD have children. That's a tunnel-visioned judgment call.
To see and read BOTH sides of this issue – about California’s bullshit Proposition 8 (an abomination to be sure because it denies a right granted by the courts), Rick Warren saying a prayer (it was JUST a fucking prayer - not an Executive Order), gay adoption (I know MANY gay couples who make better parents than so-called straight couples) or how society is headed to Hell in a handbasket (like unprevoked war and genocide is even comaprable) – makes my head (and heart) hurt.
When you boil the issue down to its core, it is about one thing – love. In too many incidents, not enough of that commodity is being exhibited.
Look, I have no problem with a “religious” ban against such practices. If a church does not wish to marry same-sex couples, it is the rightful prerogative of that institution to do so; there’s simply NO room to complain or protest. If you belong to a church; then you follow its teachings … or else, get the hell out. Them there's the rules.
But marriage is really a legal/secular contract. A justice of the peace (regardless of religious or political affiliation) can do the exact same damn job, the result of which is registered in a courthouse and whose dissolution runs through that same secular course – no minister to be seen. No church can say a freaking peep.
Here’s a fact of life – you can’t legislate love (no matter how often some Neanderthal-thinking legislators try to do, especially HERE in Texas, often the Republic of Idiocracy). You cannot demand automatic adherence to another person’s (or group’s) dogma when it comes to the individual heart – before the ceremony … or prior to a divorce. But we've got folks, thinking with their wallets for political gain, trying their damnest to tell others what in the fuck to do with their lives when they can't properly run their own.
And before I am inundated with a flood of Biblical spew, to the contrary, spare me your righteousness. Christians cannot even agree among themselves about the “meaning” of Biblical passages. Otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many denominations, or pastors, with their own viewpoints about the same exact wording. And, lo and behold, all too often, it is do as I say, not as I do ... right Rev. Haggard?
God gave men and women the power to reason but … love isn’t reasonable. Hate, the polar opposite of love, is just as unreasonable. For so many to spew so much hate, over feelings of the heart, is beyond my mortal comprehension. Frankly, it sucks and it's embarrassing.
What I DO understand are a person’s rights, and in this country, everyone has the right to be happy. Being married to the person of your choice should be such an inalienable right. If you deny that particular right, it won’t be long before someone, or some group, decides to deny more of your rights – to travel freely, to speak freely, to hold religious belief freely. One misstep can place you on a greased slide downward – without any control as to when it stops.
"And there was no one left when they came for me..."
If you believe your marriage, and that of anyone else in this land, is adversely threatened because people of the same gender want to live in a bond of love, then, folks, then your union is already damaged. And it’s TOO fucking late to blame other people for your problems.
My wife and I will celebrate our eighth anniversary in September, and our ninth Valentine’s Day together. We enjoy that Hallmark holiday because of what it signifies – love for one another.
Regardless of who you are. Gay, straight, mixed-up, screwed-up or whatever.
You have the God-given right to be HAPPY!

The future of newspapers

I posted this on the Dallas Morning News website - on what that paper ought to do to survive in the future:

The very word - newsPAPER - is what it should be. There will always be a niche audience for a newspaper because it contains SO many things impossible to obtain online in terms of information/entertainment.
- Try doing the New York Times Crossword Puzzle on a Kindle or on your computer screen.
- Try reading the comics, circling that pop-up ad when you go to the grocery store as a reminder or clipping that flat-screen for the coupon exchange (heck, most groceries won't accept computer-generated coupons for fear of illegitimacy).
Sadly, the older generation, that was raised on newspaper content, developed the technology to keep the upcoming generations from using that same resource. Same is true for public education - the oldest among us profited and prospered from it but then ruined that same institution for our children and grandchildren.
Community newspapers (in which I worked for 30-plus years) will always be around because they better serve smaller markets with totally local news. A more intense focus on local and state coverage (not available anywhere on the Internet) with print-based exclusive copy (available ONLY in the paper) might draw more readers.
Frankly, one can get scores of business opinions from the web and international news is splattered everywhere you look and read.But not the happenings in Dallas and the region, or for Texas. Instead of Charles Krauthammer's babblings, or even Mark Davis' tired rantings about everywhere-but-here items, try telling Dallas area readers MORE about what is happening in THIS state (sorry, but forget Oklahoma, New Mexico, Colorado, etc.).
It will require a major change in thinking among the hierarchy - going from the major national-international voice of the Southwest to JUST being the voice ... of Texas.
Stop wasting payroll sending reporters to NFL playoff games that do NOT involve Texas teams ... why was that necessary on the same day it was announced the paper won't be covering the local/area major league baseball team with its own staff?
Why cover plays or opera in Santa Fe or New York when concerts or cultural events in DALLAS get almost NO attention of print press????
Why have someone AT the Detroit Auto Show (us old-timers know it as such)? We do NOT live or die by that industry?
I would like to know MORE about happenings in West or East Texas or in Austin, San Antonio or Houston. I'd like to read (in my arthritic little hands) from voices in those cities BEFORE anyone in Providence, Philadelphia or Miami.
It is doing to require a completely different approach to how you do business and how you cover the news. It MIGHT mean you need to examine your smaller brethren in the smaller burghs of this fair state ... and how they survive and how they serve their readers.
Because, in the end, our society is NOT well served by a dying newspaper industry - and those who advocate such as simpleton idiots! We NEED more places to learn about what is happening around us - NOT LESS!

Why I ain't blogging

For those who actually take the time to read this (all 3 of you), I have been absent - by choice.
I am a professional (albeit retired) journalist and I enjoy when I see my work on newsprint - a haunting and increasingly dinosaur of a conception. I like it when I can fold the page and actually touch my finger to the nasty ink.
It feels real then. This .... does NOT!
Besides, I got much more feedback when peopel took the time to open a newspaper and read the damn thing. I will have such an experience tomorrow in the Dallas Morning News (from an early posting about our late dog, Blarney) and I will feel satisfaction. I can clip it out, paste it into a scrapbook and know that something REAL was written.
And I know I am a select member of a group that CAN write fluently and coherently. On the blogosphere, any idiot with a computer can post and no one is there to edit the language, punctuation or content.
I still have some hardened opinion and I might share them in the coming days...but blogging isn't my "thang."
I am a writer.
Pen to paper.
Typerwriter to paper.
Laserprint to paper.
In real terms.
Not this.