Hustle's Hot Corner

-30-

2010-03-14T23:33:00.003-04:00

For the first time in 13 1/2 years, I am no longer a full-time newspaper journalist.

It all still feels a bit surreal. As our industry eroded, wave by wave, I came to adopt Bum Phillips' old saying: There's two kinds of journalists, them that's been laid off and them that's gonna be laid off.

There's already been too much time consumed and words wasted lamenting the losses, so I feel no need to add to that.

Instead, consider this a short memoir. It's one man's journey, consequential to no one, but preserved before the memories fade away.

I never planned on being a journalist. I always envisioned something different, like teaching or meteorology, maybe both. Then I discovered I was too ill-tempered for teaching obnoxious youths; further, I was completely uninterested in physics and chemistry, prereqs to weather-related studies.

It was as simple as this: As a junior with major-declaration time approaching, I did the math. I had always been a fair writer. I always enjoyed sports. Why not be a sportswriter?

As a senior, I landed an internship at my hometown paper, The Times News in Lehighton, Pa. Upper management loved a free worker.

My first assignment was a football game between my alma mater and a high school that was within a block of our campus; you can see how close they are on Google Maps (click the Satellite view; Moravian College's football field, then in the middle of renovations, is the tan blob to the left).

I was warned beforehand that covering high school football was a pain, and my experience concurred. Stats provided by the schools were too often unreliable and usually couldn't be obtained on tight, Friday night deadlines, so it was up to us to keep the stats. If you've never been a journalist, imagine charting what happened on every play, how much yardage it gained or lost, who carried, passed or caught, whether a first down resulted, whether a touchdown resulted (and what time this occurred at), whether a penalty resulted (and figuring out what the new down and distance was after the penalty was assessed) and, possibly, who made a big defensive play.

And don't forget, you have 30 seconds or so to write all this down between plays.

What disappointed me most was that everything I had learned about the tactical side of football - passing routes, blitz pickups, blocking angles - was of no use. There was no time to dissect what went right and what went wrong unless it was obvious to everyone watching the game (a middle defender blocking a kick, for instance).

But I learned as a I grew older; when play-by-play charting became an afterthought, I was able to jot notes about what had happened and a key moment that made it happen.

My second assignment was much closer to the office. I filed from there that night, my first experience inside of a newsroom. I was stunned at how I felt it was simply the place for me to be. I felt at home there. I heard intelligent discussions about sports, the jocular banter you'd expect in an all-male department, and, for the first time, the sense of contributing something that was part of a much larger scheme.

I learned much more than that, of course. Emmett McCall helped me understand solid design principles; it took me years to figure out how he could so quickly take a batch of stories that were to be on a page and whip up a stable design that would prevent bumping heds and the like. Rod Heckman gave me appreciation for statheads and folks with a quiet, solid work ethic. Steve Stallone, who left shortly thereafter to move to the Hazleton Standard-Speaker, taught me how to cover events like a pro. Ed Hedes, our boss, stuck up for me even when I didn't deserve such treatment.

We only had one major shift in personnel. When including the weeklies that we owned, colleagues like Scott Pagel (hockey) and Kate Huvane (field hockey) not only became good friends, but taught me the skill and artistry of the sports they knew best.

And along the way, we had a blast doing it. Beers in the media lot at Pocono Raceway (on a Friday afternoon no less! But shhhh...), mocking the characters of 'Days of Our Lives' with Kate, listening to the Notre Dame fight song every f---ing time Emmett's computer booted up.

I was privileged in that Ed was OK with most ideas I proposed. I could cover Philadelphia Eagles and Penn State angles at the NFL Draft; so, for two years, I went to New York. We had somehow lucked into a credential for the Orioles-Indians ALDS in '97, so I went. (I'll always remember being on the field standing next to Jayson Stark, Pedro Gomez (both before they ventured to ESPN) and a third person listen to a discussion with then-Indians GM John Hart about a potential salary cap in baseball. All this happened as Stark was on the Fanavision in the stadium, doing an interview for a segment for 'This Week In Baseball.') I covered the first interleague game between the Phillies and the Blue Jays.

And toward the end of stay at home, I covered the college signing of a local kid who was going to play offensive line for the University of Richmond. What a random choice, I thought. What exactly is there in Virginia that would draw someone there?

By that time, it had become clear that remaining in Lehighton would not be a wise move. There's only so many years you can spend in a hometown of 5,000 people; when I had the audacity to pick against my alma mater in our weekly Grid Picks, I often had people ask why I wasn't more supportive of them. The most ridiculous comment of that nature came when Lehighton faced Berwick at the end of one regular season; then, Berwick was the class of eastern Pennsylvania football and the Indians were no match.

My own stubbornness didn't help. I didn't see eye to eye with management - the ones who enjoyed the free labor - and though I still feel as if I was right in my resentment, I now understand there would have been better ways to handle it. The general manager, for instance, was the publisher's son and had come straight from an underling advertising position. He knew nothing of production, from editorial to editing to printing; once, when I worked as sports editor of a weekly that served the area where he resided, he once requested an extra page - on production day! - to ensure that I would have enough room to print his son's youth league results. Even the compliments were half-assed; when I took a photo of a high school baseball player named Geoff Kelowitz, his subsequent e-mail commended me for my "nice photo of the Kelowitz." I burned bridges with them and though I'm sorry I did, I'm not that sorry.

I looked for the first train out of town, somewhere within a range of southern New England to Northern Virginia. My first job offer was at a small placed called the Manassas Journal Messenger. One my final day, Bob Urban - our then-managing editor at the TN and a man I continue to greatly admire - reminded me, "If those Southerners give you any problems down there, you just remind them that they're still batting 0 for 1." I didn't know at the time that Manassas was hardly "The South," which starts at Fredericksburg.

I plunged myself into an area I didn't know. My first residence was a room rented from an eccentric, single older woman. My room had no cable and I was not one to hang out with her much; the only way to keep up with the world was at work. So I worked often.

At the JM, I was immediately taken by a different style of leadership. It felt more professional and less collegial than the TN, and I mean to infer nothing bad about the latter. Lehighton and Carbon County is/was a small region where people knew people; Manassas was part of suburbia, sprawling and always in flux. Both styles served their areas well, and neither was better than the other; they were just markedly different.

Perhaps what was more striking was the divergent backgrounds of the people who made up the newsroom. Our editor was from southern Georgia and graduated from Florida; a copy editor had gone to Lehigh, just across the river in Bethlehem from Moravian; our sports editor was from west of Richmond but had spent time at U.Va. and Arizona State.

Really, everything was different. I was within walking distance of multiple businesses that were open 24 hours a day; I can think of maybe two such businesses in all of Lehighton. The nearest Best Buy was in Allentown, a 25-minute drive; in Manassas, there was one that was less than a 25-minute walk. On one route to the office, I passed maybe 30 restaurants, far more than any route in Lehighton would produce. I now had to worry about traffic and the federal government.

There were many lonely nights in Manassas, wondering if I'd made the right move. None was worse than when a fire consumed the townhouse next to us, forcing us to relocate while the house was rebuilt. I stayed with a kind neighbor and his family while more permanent housing could be found; I read thick classics to pass the night hours away, since I didn't want to be any more of a bother than I already was, considering my odd work hours. (The misery then paid off later with a sweet long-term apartment in a gated community in McLean, near Tysons Corner.)

But I also increasingly found my stride within the community, the paper and as a writer. The first story I ever wrote that I was really proud of involved a deaf eighth-grader who played basketball. His sign language coach, a female, had also played basketball and served as his interpreter. "When he gets yelled at, I yell at him through sign language," she said.

Within six months of arriving, though, changes were afoot. Our papers were being combined with another one in the same county, lengthening my commute by a great degree. After a few months, it became too much and three of us, all in sports, rented a townhouse nearer to the office. Thus began the fun years of the Woodbridge frathouse.

With Keith McMillan, Kipp Hanley and I, we all enjoyed a place to rest our heads and commiserate privately about whatever was going wrong with work. We were all single at varying points, enjoying our jobs and, for the most part, each other.

This also coincided as the most fun I'd had working in sports. We had a superb team with excellent writers and reporters, all of whom had daily newspaper experience before coming here. We routinely won awards, all of us, and were the best sports section in the state for our size, by any measure. We had different specialties and varying abilities, all of which came together for a halcyon era, at least by the standards I'd had.

Lacy Lusk was a baseball encyclopedia and a thoughtful reporter. (Once, while putting together a friend's going-away page, I pasted the head of Osama bin Laden onto the body of then-Braves pitcher Tom Glavine. Lacy happened by and saw my work. He deadpanned, "bin Laden's a lefty. Who knew?") Keith was a superb writer, unafraid to take on subjects that others would shy away from. Kipp routinely found outstanding human interest stories, and Dave Utnik was as descriptive a writer as you'd find. Marcus Rosano, our desk guy, was steady, unflappable and always willing to listen to gripes, professional or otherwise. I always considered myself a utility player, with comparable - but not superior - skills to any of the above. We all had fun and we kicked ass doing it.

When our clan broke up, a new wave of faces replaced them. Keith and Lacy moved on to bigger things; Marcus moved on to better things. Guys like Byron Barboza, Chris Errington and Tom Lawson helped bring in a new era; I don't know that our quality slipped a great deal, but the era was different nonetheless. Byron sat next to me, and could often be heard arguing with Tom about the inane topic of the day. At least there was life among us.

I was finding my stride as a writer and as a designer. I found myself sitting down at a computer after an event and struggling with the lede, as we've all done; my only credo - "write something intelligent" - reverberated through my head, a cautionary tale against the easy, too-frequent AP ledes of a one-line setup before the nut graf. As a designer, I appreciated the fact that I could clear off my calendar and produce an excellent centerpiece, provided I could find the materials and the know-how to do it.

I was also fortunate to cover some incredible events, some of which I'd written about before (numbers 1, 2 and 5 happened during this era). I covered the Washington Redskins part-time for several years. I had one-on-one interviews with people I could have never imagined, like Ryan Howard and Jack Nicklaus.

A year and a half ago, things changed. We were told that we were a community newspaper and, as such, there was no reason to spend resources covering 'national' sports like the Redskins (though no one could ever tell me why, since I was told specifically it was not a resource, financial or competence issue). The specter of layoffs was also imminent, given what was going on across the industry and that some layoffs had already occurred at some of our company's papers. We didn't know when or what, but the sense that something would happen.

A year ago, it did. Our executive editor decided she wanted a universal desk, one in which a set of copy editors are responsible for the whole paper; there are no sports-only copy editors, for instance. I was placed on the desk; my days as a full-time writer were over. I continue to have deep feelings about this move; lest I burn any more bridges, I'll keep them to myself.

This move also set the stage for my eventual layoff. In the fall, we began hearing of plans for a consolidated copy desk, somewhere far (Richmond) or very far (Lynchburg) from where we currently were. The drumbeat grew louder, and sources inside and outside our building confirmed that a move was imminent. By January, we'd received unofficial word; by mid-February, we received official word. We could move to Lynchburg or be laid off.

I took the latter.

I'll walk into that office tomorrow as a contractor, unsure of what lies ahead.

But I took tonight to look back, to revisit the good and bad. The journey has been incredible and, were you to read this to me when I was in Bethlehem, unbelievable. I met people and went places and saw things that were simply beyond my comprehension then. For heaven's sake, I sat in the front row of the Hoosier Dome, watching Florida beat UCLA for the men's Division I basketball tournament.

It was a good run.

Eclectic music tastes

2009-01-07T22:48:00.002-05:00

So a friend recently remarked that I had the greatest mix of music ever. See, there's a thread over at SJ where you take your iPod/MP3 player and relate the first five songs on the shuffle. No skipping, nothing. Apparently my shuffle was varied and crazy enough to elicit such a response.

With that in mind, here's the full list of bands on my iPod (thanks, Santa!). Eclectic, or just plain nuts?

(Please also note that some of these bands' tunes came via soundtracks and compilations, so this is not an exhaustive list of my CD collection.)

2 Unlimited
The 5th Dimension
AC/DC
Aerosmith
The Alan Parsons Project
Alanis Morissette
Alice In Chains
Aretha Franklin
Az Yet
BTO
Bad Company
Barenaked Ladies
The Beatles
Better Than Ezra
Billy Joel
Black Box
Blackstreet
Blindside
Blink-182
Blue Oyster Cult
Blur
Bob Marley & The Wailers
Bob Seger & The Silver Bullet Band
Boston
Boyz II Men
Bruce Springsteen
Bush
The Byrds
C+C Music Factory
Carl Douglas
The Cars
Chad Kroeger
The Champs
Cheap Trick
Collective Soul
Coolio
The Cranberries
Creed (just one song, don't worry)
CCR
Culture Club
Damn Yankees
Dave Matthews Band
Deep Purple
Def Leppard
Depeche Mode
Dire Straits
Dishwalla
The Doors
Dr. Dre
Elton John
Everclear
Everything But The Girl
Faith Evans
Filter
Fleetwood Mac
Foo Fighters
Foreigner
The Four Tops
Fuel
The Fugees
Garth Brooks
Gary Glitter
Genesis
Gin Blossoms
Goo Goo Dolls
Grateful Dead
Groove Theory
Guns 'n' Roses
Hank Williams Jr.
Harry Connick Jr.
Ice-T
Iron Maiden
James Brown
Jay-Z
Jefferson Starship
Jimi Hendrix
Jimmy Buffett
Jodeci
Joe Jackson
Journey
Judas Priest
KC & The Sunshine Band
K7
Kansas
Kiss
The Knack
Korn
Led Zeppelin
Limp Bizkit
Lisa Loeb
Little River Band
Live
LL Cool J
Lynyrd Skynyrd
M/A/R/R/S
Madonna
The Mamas and The Papas
Mariah Carey
Marky Mark & The Funky Bunch
Meat Loaf
Megadeth
Metallica
Montell Jordan
Monty Python
Motley Crue
NWA
Naughty by Nature
Nirvana
No Doubt
Oasis
Onyx
Ozzy Osbourne
Paul Simon
Petey Pablo
Pink Floyd
Poison
The Police
The Presidents of The United States of America
Public Enemy
Quad City DJs
Queen
R. Kelly
The Ramones
Ratt
Red Hot Chili Peppers
Red Rider
Reel 2 Real
REO Speedwagon
Rob Base & DJ Easy Rock
Robert Palmer
Rod Stewart
The Romantics
Sarah McLaughlin
Scorpions
Seal
Simon & Garfunkel
Skee-Lo
Smashing Pumpkins
Snoop Dogg
Steam
Steppenwolf
Sting
Stone Temple Pilots
Survivor
Tag Team
Tchaikovsky
Technotronic
Tesla
TLC
Todd Rundgren
Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers
Toto
Train
Tupac Shakur
U2
Van Halen
The Verve Pipe
W.A.S.P.
Warrant
Weezer
Whitesnake
Willie Nelson

Graphic discussion

2008-12-15T00:53:00.001-05:00

I've been around news all my life. My parents were religious local news watchers and, for most of the time when I lived at home, we subscribed to a morning and an afternoon paper. My least favorite part of going off to camp was the disconnectedness I felt; no TV and no papers meant I was cut off from current events - even if I had no geopolitical understanding and, therefore, no context to those events.

We were lucky, then, that I got to experience news from several viewpoints. We got broadcasts from New York (where there's always something going on), Philadelphia (and its ruthless press corps) and Scranton (where a local fair was as likely to lead the newscast as anything).

And it wasn't always the news that interested me. The graphics were a big part too; of particular interest were the openings: WPVI's legendary quick-hit video with Al Ham's "Move Closer To Your World"; WNEP, which still uses a different Ham composition; and WCAU's multi-person opening that was used before I moved south.

I suppose it's natural, then, that this curiosity carries through to today.

For some reason, instead of the openings, the thing that catches my eye today is how stations and networks introduce breaking news. So when I stumbled across these two examples, it made for a fascinating contrast.

First, CNN:

It's bold, it's flashy. Three notes and the climax. And it has traditional elements too: notice the strings playing after the other instruments have faded. If you're of a certain age, you'll remember that back when, the sound of a Morse code used to be popular on news broadcasts. They're keeping an eye on the wire, ready to bring you anything of importance that crosses it. (Note that this version doesn't have a voiceover, which is heard in this example.)

Now, onto BBC World:

It's much more stylish, in a European sort of way, with all its half-spheres and curves. The music is far less dramatic and, though urgent in its opening notes, less attention-grabbing.

But such is the difference between the cultures. We're more bold and loud, they're more reserved and stylistic.

So I don't know if it matters a hoot to anyone, just something I found curious: cultural differences as seen in news graphics.

A restaurant that gets it

2008-12-09T23:37:00.004-05:00

I've found a new favorite lunch place on the Wednesdays when I trek to Ashburn (and, of course, assuming there's time to be had for lunch).

It's called California Tortilla; I've seen them refer to themselves as Cal Tort for short, even if it sounds like a small, forgotten branch of a law firm.

I used to get my daily dose of humor on the hilarious bumpers for Lucy. Then Sirius went and ruined the channel, turning it into a soulless wasteland (though thankfully it doesn't have a DJ, unlike most other channels).

These days, CalTort fits the bill. Those are some of the freebies pictured above. The napkin should be easy enough to read; the drink behind it has some poor sap getting a drink dumped on his head by someone woman who looks to be having way too much fun dumping. The tagline reads: "Refills are on us!"

Yes, it's a silly gag. But when a place is full of them, it shows you that it doesn't take itself seriously. And that brings a smile to your face.

Just above the soda fountain is a sign that goes where a Coke or Pepsi logo would be. It's a two-part sign that's split by the ice dispenser. The left side reads: "Bad Bob fills his water cup with soda." And it shows some guy, Bob presumably, getting the finger-wagging treatment from another, equally random guy, presumably an authority figure. The right side of the sign says, "Good Bob fills his water cup with water!" Same two random guys, except the lecture is now a celebration. Conflict resolution while you tap the Sprite spigot.

This is part of a long, backward "L" shaped counter; this is the very top of the letter. The sign reads: "Need Help??? Use Megaphone or Bell!"

Sure enough, down the counter a bit - where near the point where the two lines meet - there was a megaphone and a bell. I wonder how many people opt for the former...

For all the silliness, it wouldn't matter if the food sucked. Fortunately, it doesn't. Twice, I've tried the - brace yourself - Buffalo Chicken Wing Burrito, which should come as no surprise to anyone who has shared a bar with me. It's good, and the wing sauce they have works well with the rest of the ingredients; I daresay it would beat what most places pass off as wing sauce.

A quick aside: If you happen to go, for heaven's sake, get the smaller size burrito. Not knowing any better on my first visit, I got the large. When I was finished, about 5/6 of the way through that beast, I couldn't eat another bite. And that was after untold contents spilled because I wasn't smart enough to keep the thing in its wrapper.

For me, the gem of the place was this:

It's called the Wall of Flame. I was heartened to see such wonderful, and ambulance-inducing, sauces. Just to the right of the Jack Daniels-looking bottle (more on that in a sec) is our old friend, Dave's Insanity Sauce.

In my ~~younger~~ stupider days, I bought a bottle of DIS from a German restaurant/novelty store/beer store back in the Lehigh Valley Mall. I couldn't wait to actually use it on my food, so I took a dab and rubbed it off on the front right part of my tongue. That spot burned - and I don't mean smolder, I mean unrecognizably charred - for a good 20 minutes. Not unlike this guy's experience.

It's part of a line of super-hot, XXX sauces, ones that do their damndest to give you space for a tongue ring. Many have catchy and humorous names.

But the Jack-looking bottle caught my attention this day. It may have the greatest product name in all the glorious history of American capitalism: Professor Phardtpounder's Colon Cleaner Hot Sauce, the Elixir of Capsaecin Extremus!

There's something to be said for a bottle of sauce who's biggest words jump out at you: COLON CLEANER.

And it fits in perfectly at Cal Tort, where it seems no gag is silly enough if it makes your day.

An important comment I hope everyone reads

2008-12-03T22:49:00.002-05:00

A comment notification popped into the old inbox this afternoon. In full:

You know, I've been seeing this for a year, and normally I don't respond to ad hominem attacks, but finally, in this year of change, I thought I'd set the record straight.

1. I was the starting guard for my JV high school basketball team.
2. I was a starting member of the tennis team for 2 years in high school.
3. I regularly played intramural sports through college and law school.
4. I taught tennis at the Special Olympics when I attended Cal.
5. I hosted the Tiger Woods Foundation Golf Clinic at Harding Park in San Francisco in 1999.
6. I play golf whenever I can, having taken up the sport in 1997 after watching Tiger Woods win the Masters. Something about "role model" and "opportunity" made me want to compete in a sport I had heretofore not identified with minorities.

If you bothered to read the entire transcript, you would understand the issues involved. If women are not provided a chance to engage in intercollegiate athletics, what does that say about our country? Everyone uses the old saw that "football, baseball, basketball" will be cut. The evidence hardly exists to support that conclusion, except perhaps in those rare instances in schools where the programs were marginal to begin with. The fact of the matter is, college athletics is more robust, and college campuses are richer, and our nation is stronger because of the passage and enforcement of Title IX.

Yes, sometimes choices have to be made. But the fact is, they have always been made in college sports. Prior to Title IX, campuses determined what mens' sports teams to support and which ones would be self-sufficient. Blaming Title IX for the demise of some mens' programs is an easy blame-shifter, rather than focusing on the fact that we are creating the same opportunity for camaraderie, teamwork, and excellence for young girls and women. I say that's a positive.

It certainly doesn't suck.

Sincerely,
Michael Yaki
Commissioner
U.S. Commission on Civil Rights

First, I'd like to offer sincere thanks to Mr. Yaki for taking the time to write his comment.

Here's the original post. I think Mr. Yaki missed the long-running gag, that people and things who committed silly acts got thrown into the ever-popular "You Suck" series. Other members of the club include current D.C. council member Marion Barry, electronics maker Sony, faux weight-loss product Lipozene, and the folks who compose the scrolling ticker on CNN.

So you are not alone.

All that being said, I stand behind what I wrote. While your accomplishments are numerable and commendable, particularly your involvement with Special Olympics, they do not qualify you to be in a position to be advising on aspects of intercollegiate athletics. I am as much qualified to be an instructional pilot at Delta based on my hours spent on Flight Simulator.

We agree on more than you may think. The growth of women's athletics in this country is a wonderful development. I pray that the WNBA stays afloat for as long as possible; they provide role models to a generation of girls that may otherwise find few of them.

Title IX, at its essence, is good legislation.

What it has become, however, is not good. It does suck.

See, the thing that blows my mind is this: You're essentially saying - and please correct me if I'm wrong on this - that collateral damage in men's sports is OK, so long as we provide opportunities for women's sports.

That, and your unfortunate choice of words in that hearing, are my primary concerns with you in your capacity as it relates to Title IX. (If you believe the Associated Press wrongly quoted you, please let me know and I will happily post that. I will leave it to our readers to decide.)

Here's what I want from our higher education system: Opportunities for all to participate in as many varsity sports as possible. These days, that is not possible. Wrestling programs are being eliminated at an alarming rate; other Olympic sports on the men's side have also been dropped frequently.

Much of this, as best I can tell, happens to bring a particular school in line with Title IX.

I have no concerns that the big three of football, basketball and baseball will be adversely affected. At the I-A/FBS level, football drives the athletic department; basketball helps out too; and baseball, in certain pockets of the country, is incredibly popular.

Instead, I worry about the minor sports. What if I have a son who runs cross country but goes to a school where the program is cut? What if he wrestles? Can I demand a campus wave off federal funding in order to support my son's team? I can, I suppose, but I'll be laughed out of the building (with a security escort, no doubt).

Let me say this as clearly as possible: My feelings have nothing to do with gender, race, ethnicity or even sport of choice. I will fight with all of my power to ensure that young women have a chance to benefit from athletics.

But what kind of a person am I if I don't fight with that same intensity for young men and their opportunities? Do they not deserve the same chance?

I want equality for all. Not some, or half, or most. All.

Title IX, for all the excellent intentions behind it, fails in that endeavor at this point.

-----

Mr. Yaki, you are always welcome here. Though I disagree most vehemently with your position and the way you present it, I believe in the power of free speech as well.

The difference between the East Coast and the West Coast

2008-12-02T22:39:00.003-05:00

Depending on where you live, one of the following statements will be shocking to you.

1. The drive from Bend, Ore., to Portland takes three hours. Using the most common route, you'll pass through 14 different towns.

In order - with an assist from Google Maps - it's Redmond, Prineville Junction, Terrebonne, Opal City, Madras, Warm Springs, Government Camp, Rhododendron, Faubion, Brightwood, Alder Creek, Cherryville, Sandy and Gresham. That's every place name, regardless of size, along the route.

On average, that's one town of some size every 12.86 minutes.

2. The drive from my hometown, Lehighton, Pa. to State College takes three hours. Using the most common route, you'll pass through 28 towns.

In order - again from Google Maps - Jamestown, Packerton, Jim Thorpe, Hudsondale, Beaver Meadows, Hazleton, Conyngham, Sybertsville, Hetlerville, Mifflinville, Lime Ridge, Lightstreet, Bloomsburg, Kaseville, Mooresburg, New Columbia, Rosecrans, Mackeyville, Clintondale, Lamar, Nittany, Snydertown, Hublersburg, Mingoville, Zion, Pleasant Gap, Dale Summit and Houserville. That's every place name, regardless of size, along the route.

On average, that's one town of some size every 6.4 minutes.

Recollections from a year ago

2008-11-26T01:01:00.003-05:00

It all started with an innocuous act: checking e-mail.

High in the inbox was a cryptic e-mail. Few details, an ongoing situation.

Somewhere in Miami, Sean Taylor had been shot.

The statement was brief, three sentences. Yet it was the beginning of an unwinding story, one that, a year on now, still stirs emotions throughout the region.

That first day was a blur. Checking for constant updates on the wire, the Washington Post, ESPN, the Miami Herald and SJ all while trying to accomplish a normal day's work.

The tragedy continued into the night as reports surfaced that he was fighting for his life.

I woke up the next morning, wondering what the day would bring.

"Sean Taylor passed away," my wife told me, first thing.

There's a strange duopoly to life as a journalist. My first instinct was to head to work, grab the recorded and head to Ashburn. This was a story that was going to affect a lot of people, even for a county as regionally diverse as the place I work. Unlike few other stories, this one mattered to Giants, Eagles and Cowboys fans, too.

The other side is that we're human, too. It was hard not to feel for the Redskins fans out there, the ones who had such deep emotional investments in the franchise. They were just outside the fence at the entrance to Redskin Park; a makeshift memorial had been set up there.

It was harder not to feel for the players and coaches to whom Taylor was closest. These were people that you sometimes shared a joke with or just chatted with in the course of doing your job; now, they were forced into inexplicable public grief.

The day was windy; I remembered that from seeing a Post video. Two workers came out and hung black bunting around the "Washington Redskins" sign at the front entrance.

The place was packed. I remembered reading about accounts of Pete Rose's final days as Reds manager, just as his gambling habit came to light. When the network news people showed up, one story said, it was never a good situation.

And that's how it felt. The media room at Redskin Park, small for a normal crowd, was SRO. The crowd flowed into the main lobby, where there were 30 or so more people. I counted.

I counted because there was ample time in between the players' availability. There were long periods of frustration - being cooped up with so many other unfamiliar people - punctuated by sheer sadness. Whenever a player came out to speak, their head hung low, they spoke softly and invariably wiped away tears.

It was then, and only then, that the full impact of what happened was felt. These were real people grieving. The facade of invincible NFL players was lifted in a most dramatic and tragic fashion.

Taylor's lockers in Ashburn and Landover remain untouched, encased in glass, a haunting reminder of loss.

A year later, it's still surreal.

Fail

2008-11-22T13:00:00.002-05:00

Hank, miffed at the fact that his pudgy snout wouldn't allow him to get all of the goodness left in the Fancy Feast can.

He tried, though, as evidenced by the tan residue on the right side of his nose.

Just because: The top five rock songs of all-time

2008-11-09T00:15:00.003-05:00

Not that you asked for it, but I've been thinking about my all-time top five - hey, the drives can be long and the mind wanders.

So, take it for what it's worth.

~~5."Far From Over," Frank Stallone~~
OK, OK, I couldn't resist as wiseass line to start off. But still, you can listen to the tune if you want. Not that I like it or anything. Nah, never. But I could've sworn the first time I actually heard it was in this video, where Martin Short and Christopher Guest try their hand at synchronized swimming.

But seriously, folks...

5. "Estranged," Guns 'n' Roses
Of course, it was nowhere near the hit that some of the other songs on Use Your Illusion I & II were. But there was something different about it, something foreboding. The structure was unconventional, the lyrics too. The song took twists and turns, from intense to mellow, from Slash's blistering guitar to a soft piano/guitar duet. Halfway home, there's a redemptive, more upbeat feel to the tune; then, in an instant, it turns intense again: I see the storm's getting closer/and the waves, they get so high/Seems everything we've ever known's here/why must it drift away and die. And it kicks ass over the final few minutes, leaving you feel like you've been on a roller coaster. The tune takes me back to when I was in high school; I had Use Your Illusion II forever in the CD player, always ready to hit this track. For some reason, I associate it with winter, sitting in my room doing whatever, wishing I was out skiing - back when I did such things - and thinking that the snow must be pretty sweet down at Blue Mountain. Oh well.

4. "One," Metallica
This was the best of times for Metallica, when their music had matured and got polished but before money mattered and they turned everything into a soulless, four-minutes-and-done abomination. The mournful opening bar sets the tone; the reserved music serves as a prelude to the intricate ass-kicking. The production is tight and the music is meaningful - to say nothing of the absolutely haunting video they shot for it.

3. "Dazed and Confused," Led Zeppelin
It's a damn shame Zep couldn't get any higher than three on this list. But, in one song, there's everything you've come to know and love about the band: Robert Plant's piercing vocals, Jimmy Page's mastery of the guitar, John Bonham's sometimes-melodic, sometimes-driving drumming, and John Paul Jones' incredible gifts of arrangement. It wasn't as popular as "Stairway to Heaven" - which, in retrospect, failed to demonstrate all that these four could do together - and for the life of me, I can't understand why.

2. "Under Pressure," Queen & David Bowie
I love how the music plays off the title. Several times, the music builds to a crescendo and someone cracks the valve to let off the steam, leading to the iconic bass line (later shat upon by Vanilla Ice). Each time, the steam seems to take a little longer to rebuild, but the release is no less satisfying. It's a wonderful song; at the times when the pressure is highest, if you will, the instruments and vocals work in such harmony that every last part just seems to fit perfectly. There's no needless verbosity or overwrought loudness. Love it, love it, love it. But not quite as much as...

1. "Nights in White Satin," Moody Blues
First off, I'm sorry you get the short version on the video; no poem reading or anything. Justin Hayward's vocals make this No. 1 for me. Each verse starts understated and dramatic and ends on a fever pitch. Add in the philharmonic to create instrumental cascades - something no band would consider doing today (and no, I don't count Metallica's stunt, a live album with the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra nearly a decade ago). Unfortunately, lost in the video, is that the symphony provides a most dramatic ending after the poem. It's a series of peaks and valleys that leaves you exhilarated.

So there you have it... I know you'll think I'm batty, especially for the No. 1 song, but I can take it.

For my pal, Jerry

2008-11-07T19:15:00.002-05:00

I have a ton of respect for Jerry, who writes the hell out of a Hofstra-based blog with a really excellent name.

So I know he'll love the photo. (And no, he's not bitter. Why do you ask?)

And, sorry to disappoint you, but I was up in Fairfax talking to one of the wrestlers. Nothing to do with hoops. When are you going to write about Hofstra wrestling, anyway?

Back to normal

2008-10-31T19:20:00.003-04:00

I wore my Phils jersey to work on Thursday and kept my Nike Phils had on all day - flaunting our rarely-enforced dress policy.

While I hung out at home with my wife on Friday, we watched sporadic updates of the Phillies' parade on ESPNews.

Now, the parade and the speeches are over.

That means cynical Hustle returns. Enough of the sappiness.

Did it really happen? Honestly?

2008-10-30T00:38:00.003-04:00

Did I really see Brad Lidge drop to his knees?

Did I really see a pile of celebration envelope him?

Did I really see Charlie Manuel hold up a World Series trophy?

Did I really see this when I turned the channel?

Yes.

Yes I did. At least I think so.

Just the thought of the bottom of that pic - "Phillies defeat Rays, 4-3, win World Series" seems incomprehensible. Each time, each time I think of the momentousness of it, and what it means to so many people who mean so much to me, I'm forced to wipe away a fresh wave of tears.

For the first time in my life - or at least since I've been old enough to remember such things - I'll go to bed knowing that one of the teams that I cheer for is a world champion.

Congratulations to our own Philadelphia Phillies, who brought joy to a city that had long since given up on it.

Utterly incomprehensible.

Yet I saw it. I know I did.

2008-10-16T01:09:00.001-04:00

(Photo by Reuters via Yahoo)

What the Phillies' run means to me

2008-10-15T21:50:00.002-04:00

I've done a lot of bitching here. There's lots to complain about, at least from the perspective on the maroon La-Z-Boy.

Fundamentally, I like what I do for a living. I've seen a lot of things, been a lot of places and met a lot of people I would have otherwise never met or simply only dreamed of meeting. The downside, as we've talked about many times, is the loss of pure joy that sports once provided.

But, for the past few weeks, that joy has returned.

The Phillies are playing in October.

See, Philly's nine was the first team I ever loved. I can still picture the Mike Schmidt jersey pajamas I had as a little one; I always wondered why I never got to see them play in those jerseys, but that was back in the days when only road games were broadcast.

Schmitty was my first athletic hero, and the Phillies were the first pro team I ever saw play live.

I don't much remember their World Series trip in '80s; though through the highlights, I can picture Tug McGraw's iconic final strike.

I vaguely remember the '83 Series, when many of those same players from 1980 were older and wheezier. They lost that one to Baltimore.

A decade later, an equally wheezing lineup made it back, only to lose on Joe &$#!#@* Carter's homer.

Fifteen years later, after so many close calls - the Eagles' failed Super Bowl visit, a couple of Finals appearances by the Flyers and Sixers, all for naught - the Phillies are on the cusp of making it back.

It's 5-0 in Game 5 as I write this, though the Dodgers are threatening in the fifth. That's OK, because Los Angeles has a good team; to think that they're going to roll over in an elimination game is foolhardy.

Regardless of what happens, I'm going to be cheering the whole way.

And I haven't said that about any sports team in a long, long time.

Let's go Phillies.

Now this is how it should be...

2008-10-10T19:12:00.003-04:00

Driving to an assignment tonight, generally miffed that I'm having to miss the Phillies game.

But the long drive was made imminently more enjoyable by the fact that, for the third inning, I was able to enjoy Vin Scully calling the game, thanks to XM. I'm even happy to overlook the fact that he called this guy by this guy's name.

That's OK. It's a pure pleasure to listen to Scully on the radio. During the regular season, he gives way in the third inning and moves over the TV booth. So after the third, I did likewise and switched over to the Phillies' feed - just in time to hear another legend, Harry Kalas.

I know some of our regulars are nowhere near a radio signal that would carry a Kalas broadcast. So go search YouTube (hell, just click the link, I did the legwork) and enjoy one of the smoothest voices of our time.

That is baseball as it should be.

Was anyone really surprised that neither of the VP candidates tripped?

2008-10-03T14:32:00.003-04:00

Driving home from work, I heard Jeff Greenfield from CBS - a guy whose work I appreciate and a reporter I respect - talk about potential pratfalls leading into Thursday night's one-and-done vice presidential debate.

The key, Greenfield said, for Gov. Sarah Palin was to avoid coming off as clueless and out of the loop (that's my summary, not his exact words). Sen. Joe Biden could not afford any mean-spirited sarcasm or his occasional loose cannon-ness (again, my summary).

And he was absolutely right.

As it turned out, neither did.

I watched the debate with Greenfield's words in the back of my mind. And then it hit me: If he, a reporter, knew this, wouldn't it seem that the campaigns were aware of this as well?

Palin came off as in the know, though her continued unwillingness to expand on the topic at hand was annoying. Biden came off as a thoroughly respectable person, not one who reluctantly participated as if it were beneath him - though Palin was right in that Biden and Barack Obama seem more interested in badmouthing the Bush administration (which does deserve a fair amount of badmouthing) than showing us how they'd do it differently.

Which, I'm sure, is precisely what the campaigns wanted.

It's hard to imagine a scenario in which Palin, during debate prep, wasn't lectured over and over that she could ill afford to look squeamish or unprepared to answer. It's hard to imagine Biden, during debate prep, wasn't lectured over and over that he could not have a slip-up. As much as he may have wanted to, he simply could not blow his top.

It's like the venerable John Chaney used to say about his team: The guys he coached against were smart enough and their staffs were smart enough that they knew as much about his team he did. If his Owls couldn't rebound worth a damn, the opposition knew that. If they were turnover prone, those opponents would know that too.

If a guy like Greenfield knows these things about the candidates, you're damn tootin' the campaigns know it. Again, that's not a knock on Greenfield; but in the end, he's just a reporter.

The campaigns know better.

On Thursday, nothing was going to be left to chance.

CFB Viewing Report: Week 5

2008-09-28T09:03:00.002-04:00

While I can't put it in the list - as I didn't actually see a play - I was fortunate enough to hear the radio broadcast of my alma mater's win on Saturday, in their biggest test so far this season. You'll find a couple of gamers here and here, (thanks for making that second one so easy to find, guys) and the old 'Hounds are off to a quick 4-0 start. Such is the wonder of modern communication, hearing a low-powered radio station from several states away.

Just as amazing, one of the games I did take in was Lehigh-Princeton, broadcast by the Lehigh Valley's lone television station - which I grew up watching - whose feed was picked up by FSN Pittsburgh, thus making it available to me here in Virginia on DirecTV.

It was a wild, wild, weekend. I've got some serious thinking to do about the SJ poll. Anyway, on with it.

Alabama (beat Georgia 41-30)
Alabama-Birmingham (lost to South Carolina 26-13)
Akron (lost to Cincy 17-15)
Arkansas (lost to Texas 52-10)
Army (lost to Texas A&M 21-17)
Auburn (beat Tennessee 14-12)
Bowling Green (beat Wyoming 45-16)
California (beat Colorado St. 42-7)
California, Pa. (beat IUP 21-19)
Central Florida (lost to UTEP 58-13)
Cincinnati (beat Akron 17-15)
Clemson (lost to Maryland 20-17)
Colorado (lost to Florida St. 39-21)
Colorado State (lost to Cal 42-7)
Connecticut (beat Louisville 26-21)
Duke (beat Virginia 31-3)
East Carolina (lost to Houston 41-24)
Eastern Michigan (lost to No. Illinois 37-0)
Eastern Washington (beat Idaho St. 45-31)
Florida (lost to Ole Miss 31-30)
Florida A&M (beat Tennessee St. 28-21)
Florida State (beat Colorado 39-21)
Fresno State (beat UCLA 36-31)
Georgia (lost to Alabama 41-30)
Houston (beat E. Carolina 41-24)
Idaho State (lost to E. Washington 45-31)
Illinois (lost to Penn St. 38-24)
Indiana (lost to Mich. St. 42-29)
Indiana, Pa. (lost to California, Pa. 21-19)
Iowa (lost to Northwestern 22-17)
Kentucky (beat W. Kentucky 41-3)
Lehigh (lost to Princeton 10-7)
Louisville (lost to UConn 26-21)
Marshall (lost to West Virginia 27-3)
Maryland (beat Clemson 20-17)
Miami, Fla. (lost to UNC 28-24)
Michigan (beat Wisconsin 27-25)
Michigan State (beat Indiana 42-29)
Minnesota (lost to Ohio St. 34-21)
Minnesota State (beat Winona St. 35-32)
Mississippi (beat Florida 31-30)
Morgan State (lost to Rutgers 38-0)
N.C. State (lost to South Florida 41-10)
Navy (beat Wake Forest 20-17)
Nebraska (lost to Va. Tech 35-30)
Nevada (beat UNLV 49-27)
New Mexico (beat New Mexico St. 35-24)
New Mexico State (lost to New Mexico 35-24)
North Carolina (beat Miami, Fla. 28-24)
Northeastern (beat UC-Davis 27-10)
Northern Illinois (beat E. Michigan 37-0)
Northwestern (beat Iowa 22-17)
Notre Dame (beat Purdue 38-21)
Ohio State (beat Minnesota 34-21)
Oklahoma (beat TCU 35-10)
Oregon (beat Wazzu 63-14)
Oregon State (beat USC 27-21)
Penn State (beat Illinois 38-24)
Pitt (beat Syracuse 34-24)
Princeton (beat Lehigh 10-7)
Purdue (lost to Notre Dame 38-21)
Rutgers (beat Morgan St. 38-0)
South Carolina (beat UAB 26-13)
South Florida (beat N.C. State 41-10)
Stanford (beat Washington 35-28)
Syracuse (lost to Pitt 34-24)
TCU (lost to Oklahoma 35-10)
Tennessee (lost to Auburn 14-12)
Tennessee State (lost to Florida A&M 28-21)
Texas (beat Arkansas 52-10)
Texas A&M (beat Army 21-17)
UC-Davis (lost to Northeastern 27-10)
UCLA (lost to Fresno St. 36-31)
UNLV (lost to Nevada 49-27)
USC (lost to Oregon St. 27-21)
UTEP (beat Central Fla. 58-13)
Virginia (lost to Duke 31-3)
Virginia Tech (beat Nebraska 35-30)
Wake Forest (lost to Navy 20-17)
Washington (lost to Stanford 35-28)
Washington State (lost to Oregon 63-14)
West Virginia (beat Marshall 27-3)
Western Kentucky (lost to Kentucky 41-3)
Winona State (lost to Minnesota St. 35-32)
Wisconsin (lost to Michigan 27-25)
Wyoming (lost to Bowling Green 45-16)

What I'll remember about Yankee Stadium

2008-09-24T21:30:00.003-04:00

Yankee Stadium is gone, and we've heard from many that all that's left of the place is our own memories. Here are mine:

The first time I ever went there was in college, in rather unusual circumstances. A friend of a friend found out he was being laid off one day; an anti-celebration celebration was quickly organized. I was in on the plan early in the afternoon when my friend Brion called.

"Hey," he opened. "What're you doing tonight?"

It was college. I was a poor student. The answer was obvious.

"Nothing," I told him.

"Wanna go see the Yankees?"

What, a bar run? Didn't we get MSG in Bethlehem, or was that just in Lehighton?

"No. Actually going to see them."

Well, OK then.

A few hours later, I was in an old Caravan with several other guys, bound for the Bronx.

We drove over the GW Bridge and down the Major Deegan, took the exit and parked pretty close. We managed to get a group of tickets together behind the first base line and watched now-disgraced Roger Clemens pitch for New York; Kenny Rogers - never much friendly so it's hard to call him disgraced - threw for Texas.

I remember walking through the tunnel and getting my first glimpse of the field; it was overwhelming. Even if you despised the Yankees, it's hard to not be amazed at Yankee Stadium. As I walked in, my mind flashed through all of the players that had played on that field: Gehrig. DiMaggio. Mantle. Larsen. Jackson.

Hell, it's the House that Ruth Built.

All of them played on the patch of field before me. Wow.

The second time I went back, I was with my parents and we saw Milwaukee. I had to think a little bit; interleague didn't begin until I started working (I know, because I covered the Phils' first-ever interleague game against Toronto), and I believe I was still in college when i went to the second game. So Milwaukee would've still been an American League team.

That time was just as special, since it was the one time I visited Monument Park in left field.

They can build it bigger and they can build it better - as the new Yankee Stadium is bound to be - but they can't build history into it.

I saw two inconsequential games, both in an inconsequential part of the season. But I saw them, and I saw the stadium.

I can't wait to tell my grandkids about it. Old Yankee Stadium will sound as ancient to them as Shibe Park did to me.

CFB Viewing Report: Week 4

2008-09-20T22:33:00.002-04:00

A full day of unadulterated football. So it's going to be a long list...

Alabama (beat Arkansas 49-14)
Air Force (lost to Utah 30-23)
Akron (beat Army 22-3)
Arizona (beat UCLA 31-10)
Arizona State (vs. Georgia)
Arkansas (lost to Alabama 49-14)
Army (lost to Akron 22-3)
Auburn (lost to LSU 26-21)
Ball State (beat Indiana 42-20)
Boston College (beat UCF 34-7)
BYU (beat Wyoming 44-0)
Central Florida (lost to BC 34-7)
Central Michigan (lost to Purdue 32-25)
Chadron State (beat Colorado St.-Pueblo 32-0)
Colorado State-Pueblo (lost to Chadron St. 32-0)
East Carolina (lost to N.C. State 30-24, OT)
Florida (beat Tennessee 30-6)
Florida Atlantic (lost to Minnesota 37-3)
Florida International (lost to South Florida 17-9)
Florida State (lost to Wake Forest 12-9)
Fresno State (at Toledo)
Georgia (at Arizona St.)
Georgia Tech (beat Miss. State 38-7)
Indiana (lost to Ball St. 42-20)
Indiana State (lost to No. Illinois 48-3)
Iowa (lost to Pitt 21-20)
Iowa State (vs. UNLV)
Kansas (beat Sam Houston St. 38-14)
Louisiana Tech (beat SE La. 41-26)
LSU (beat Auburn 26-21)
Miami, Fla. (beat Texas A&M 41-23)
Michigan State (beat Notre Dame 23-7)
Minnesota (beat Fla. Atlantic 37-3)
Mississippi State (lost to Ga. Tech 38-7)
Montana (beat UC-Davis 29-24)
N.C. State (beat East Carolina, 30-24, OT)
Navy (beat Rutgers 23-21)
North Carolina (lost to Va. Tech 20-17)
Northern Illinois (beat Indiana St. 48-3)
Northeastern (lost to Syracuse 30-21)
Northwestern (beat Ohio 16-8)
Notre Dame (lost to Mich. St. 23-7)
Ohio (lost to Northwestern 16-8)
Ohio State (beat Troy 28-10)
Penn State (beat Temple 45-3)
Pitt (beat Iowa 21-20)
Portland State (lost to Wazzu 48-9)
Purdue (beat Cent. Michigan 32-25)
Rice (lost to Texas 52-10)
Rutgers (lost to Navy 23-21)
Sam Houston State (lost to Kansas 38-14)
SMU (lost to TCU 48-7)
Southeast Louisiana (lost to La. Tech 41-26)
South Carolina (beat Wofford 23-13)
South Florida (beat Florida Intl. 17-9)
Syracuse (beat Northeastern 30-21)
Temple (lost to Penn St. 45-3)
Tennessee (lost to Florida 30-6)
Texas (beat Rice 52-10)
Texas A&M (lost to Miami, Fla. 41-23)
TCU (beat SMU 48-7)
Toldeo (vs. Fresno State)
Troy (lost to Ohio St. 28-10)
UC-Davis (lost to Montana 29-24)
UCLA (lost to Arizona 31-10)
UNLV (vs. Iowa St.)
Utah (beat Air Force 30-23)
Utah State (beat Idaho 42-17)
Virginia Tech (beat UNC 20-17)
Wake Forest (beat Florida St. 12-3)
Washington State (beat Portland St. 48-9)
Wofford (lost to South Carolina 23-13)
Wyoming (lost to BYU 44-0)

It's Friday night...

2008-09-19T19:12:00.002-04:00

In now 12 years of covering football, there seems to be one constant: The weather takes a turn south starting with Week 3.

When I was on the computer this afternoon, the Weatherbug temp seemed to be stuck around 74. This was in mid-afternoon when, in the not so recent past, we were much further up the thermometer.

I have long sleeves on for the first time since I don't know when. It's just a simple button-down shirt, but still.

I'm out in Manassas, and left the house at an appropriate time to be here. In order to avoid the frustration of Friday traffic, I took several back roads that - on more than one occasion - made me think I was back in Carbon County driving to a game. But such is the wonder of local knowledge and GPS.

On the way, I stopped in our Manassas office to take care of some quick office work, nothing major. As I walked outside, the sun was dying to the west, the air was cooler and the streets - normally much busier - were near silent.

I felt alone. It's a common feeling on days like this at a time of year like this.

The start of everyone else's weekend is simply a continuation of our workweek; obviously you know this when you sign up for this job, but the reminders, though infrequent, can be painful.

My wife's out at happy hour, getting just a little more visiting with our dear friends Andrew and Rebecca, who trek back to Phoenix tomorrow. Occasional commenter Donna says she's headed to Old Town.

And here I am.

I have no doubt that, some years down the line, young Drake will develop a love of Duck football and maybe he'll think he can cover them. I hope I'll be there to give him a lollipop and distract him from such silliness.

Eight minutes to kickoff. I guess I'd better start paying attention...

Is anyone home?

2008-09-18T17:11:00.002-04:00

(A political rant below, if any of you are averse to such things.)

How's this for a stunner? Democratic veep pick Sen. Joe Biden (D-Del.) told Good Morning America that it's "patriotic" for the wealthy to pay more taxes that, in the Obama-Biden administration, would be used to help offset tax cuts for the middle class.

Good Lord... where to begin.

How about with semantics? It's not patriotic. Patriotic is believing, truly believing, what our country stands for and doing what you can, as a citizen, to support and promote those ideas. Patriotism is something that all of us, left and right, can agree on: Jefferson's principles about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Respecting the rule of law, even if you don't agree. Supporting our troops and all the sacrifices they make to protect us. That's patriotism.

Patriotism is not policy.

All that, of course, says nothing of the exaggerated idea of wealth redistribution. My wife and I are not rich; barring an unexpected lottery win, we will not be rich. So this whole Robin Hood ideal is quaint, but barely realistic.

Let's imagine for a moment Obama gets elected and this policy is enacted. Now, other folks are penalized to give me a few more bucks to throw around. Let's say, for instance, I decide to save that money. As an average citizen, I put the money in the bank - which is probably a large national or regional bank, like PNC, BB&T or Bank of America - which it uses to help make loans to others at much higher rates than what I get back. That makes money for the bank, which is run by wealthy individuals who get a cut of that money in either salary or bonuses. (In truth, we belong to a small credit union, yet I don't think the people running the credit union drive Kias.)

Let's say, for instance, I'm your average guy and want a shiny new techno-gadget or a new game for the 360. What am I going to do? I'll take that money to Best Buy or Circuit City and buy something. That money, in turn, helps the bottom line (however incrementally) of billion-dollar international retail outlets, which pay their executives a great salary and good bonuses because I decided I wanted something shiny from Best Buy or Circuit City. Moreover, the manufacturer gets a cut of that, possibly taking the money out of the country and making rich people even richer.

Let's say, for instance, I want to get ahead on bills. That means more money headed into the direction of the following: Verizon Wireless (Verizon's market capitalization: just shy of $93 billion); Washington Gas (market cap: $1.73 billion); Cox Communications (a privately-held company, but in 2005 made a sale to another company that brought in $2.55 billion); DirecTV (owned by Liberty Entertainment Group - market cap: $12.31 billion); XM Radio (now a part of XM-Sirius - market cap: better than $3 billion); and Carmax (market cap: $3.35 billion).

So, no matter which way I turn, I'd be giving that money right back to a large corporation, which are mostly run by rich people, who - per this policy - gave me the money in the first place.

Wealth redistribution is a myth, particularly in a capitalist society.

But here's what bugs me most about Biden's idea of patriotism: The money from the rich folks is supposed to come to me.

I live in a decent suburban house with a wonderful wife (happy birthday, honey) and two cats. I drive an Explorer (though I wish I drove a Stratus so I could exclaim it like this guy) and have enough to indulge in a newfound wine passion. Yeah, money is tight, particularly after we bought the house; but I can make it for however long it takes to pay off said Explorer.

So why, exactly, does Biden want to give money to me? I live a good life with few complaints.

Why not give the money to people who really need it? Like the lower class or the lower-middle class, people who struggle to pay bills on a regular basis. People living below the poverty line. The homeless.

There are people out there who are a lot worse off than me, through no fault of their own. Why are they not at the front of the line? Why me? I could use the money, but I don't need it. Lots of other people need it. Why don't they get consideration?

Oh, right. We don't pander to the lower class.

My bad.

RIP, Whiskey's

2008-09-16T17:22:00.002-04:00

Mark passed along the sad news today: One of the venerable watering holes in Ketchum is no more.

He lamented the fact that he had spent so much time in that place. Mine was severely limited, as I've only been in the Hailey-Ketchum area once in my life.

But the one time I made it there, Whiskey's was on the itinerary.

A few years ago (Really? It's years with an 's'? Seems like yesterday...) we were in town for Mark and Maya's wedding. We got a brief taste of the town during our stay: The bars that I remember were Whiskey's, one with a lot of college kids and a third that several of us had (liquid) lunch in.

So I'm bad with names. It's the experience that counts.

Anyway, I do hope Whiskey's rebounds, though at the moment it's in shambles. When Mark talked about all the time he had spent there, I flashed back to JP McGillicuddy's in Bethlehem. It was a good-sized restaurant right across the street from our football stadium; they had 70-some beers on tap and I did my damndest to get through the whole stock. And I have yet to have wings that compare to theirs: huge and never lacking for a lip-smacking (and gastrically potent) hot sauce.

Apparently it was done in by a dual problem of letting minors in and not paying taxes. Not a good combo. The owner started a new place, PJ McGrady's, which apparently is still kicking on Bethlehem's south side, near Lehigh.

Whiskey's came to a more abrupt end (though one can only hope it gets rebuilt). That makes it all the more sad.

Here's hoping Whiskey's rises from the ashes. In a couple decades, I'm going to need a place to buy my nephew a beer.

CFB Viewing Report: Week 3

2008-09-15T23:04:00.002-04:00

A little late, I know. And the viewing was a little limited because our dear friends Andrew and Rebecca were in town; we took Saturday to enjoy the evening with them.

We miss them dearly since they've moved to Phoenix, and spending time with them was way more important than me catching a game in the Utah-Utah State game.

And as I was typing, news flashed on screen: "(14:23) B. Westbrook up the middle for 1 yard, TOUCHDOWN."

Still making my way through the list, then this: "(10:34) (Field Goal Formation) N. Folk 47 yard field goal is GOOD, Center-L. Ladouceur, Holder-B. Johnson."

Sigh. "(8:59) B. Westbrook up the middle to DAL 34 for -1 yards. FUMBLES, RECOVERED by DAL-J. Ratliff at DAL 33."

Sigh. "(4:40) M. Barber right tackle for 1 yard, TOUCHDOWN."

We'll see what happens...

Anyway, on with it:

Arizona State (lost to UNLV 23-20, OT)
Buffalo (beat Temple 30-28)
BYU (beat UCLA 59-0)
Cal (lost to Maryland 35-27)
Chattanooga (lost to Florida State 46-7)
Clemson (beat N.C. State 27-9)
Duke (beat Navy 41-31)
East Carolina (beat Tulane 28-24)
Florida Atlantic (lost to Michigan St. 17-0)
Florida State (beat Chattanooga 46-7)
Georgia (beat South Carolina 14-7)
Georgia Tech (lost to Va. Tech 20-17)
Illinois (beat La.-Lafayette 20-17)
Iowa (beat Iowa St. 17-5)
Iowa State (lost to Iowa 17-5)
Lousiana-Lafayette (lost to Illinois 20-17)
Maryland (beat Cal 35-27)
Michigan (lost to Notre Dame 35-17)
Michigan State (beat Fla. Atlantic 17-0)
Minnesota (beat Montana St. 35-23)
Missouri (beat Nevada 69-17)
Montana State (lost to Minnesota 35-23)
N.C. State (lost to Clemson 27-9)
Nebraska-Kearney (beat Western St. 44-15)
Northwestern (beat So. Illinois 33-7)
Notre Dame (beat Michigan 35-17)
Navy (lost to Duke 41-31)
Nevada (lost to Missouri 69-17)
Ohio State (lost to USC 35-3)
Oregon (beat Purdue 32-26, 2OT)
Penn State (beat Syracuse 55-13)
Purdue (lost to Oregon 32-36, 2OT)
South Carolina (lost to Georgia 14-7)
Southern Illinois (lost to Northwestern 33-7)
Syracuse (lost to Penn State 55-13)
Temple (lost to Buffalo 30-28)
Tulane (lost to East Carolina 28-24)
UCLA (lost to BYU 59-0)
UNLV (beat Arizona St. 23-20, OT)
USC (beat Ohio State 35-3)
Virginia Tech (beat Ga. Tech 20-17)
Western State (lost to Nebraska-Kearney 44-15)

Italics indicate a non-Division I game.

Uh, Carter Beauford's really good

2008-09-13T01:55:00.002-04:00

After the sad death of Dave Matthews Band saxophonist LeRoi Moore, I was reminded of a video I had seen months before. It wasn't of Moore or anything, but another of the guys in DMB: drummer Carter Beauford.

The guy's incredible. I say that as someone who played as a kid and prayed frequently that one day I'd wake up to a Tama rage cage with double bass, more toms than I knew what to do with and cymbals hanging from the rack by a chain. (Mick Brown totally had the right idea.)

As proof, I'll offer up this doozy. Apparently he's making some sort of documentary or instructional video and he plays along with the studio version of Ants Marching. Since the camera's exclusively on him, he can showboat a little (which he does) and play much more intricate fills than he does on the released version (which he does).

The clip's on Google video, so no embedding here, sadly. But here's the link.

The first minute is pretty tame; the nature of the song pretty much determines that. But at the minute mark (:55, actually), Beauford starts getting into it. The standard beat on the song is pretty easy, but at :55, he fluffs up some of the fills with some syncopation and an off-beat accent on the partially open hi-hat.

It's not easy. Drumming is about rhythm, and the fill from :55 to 1:03 is anything but. It's intentional, of course, and impressive to watch a pro pull it off.

He cools it out again for a little while. At 1:45, he makes use of the full complement of equipment by using the small 'splash' cymbals. While it's hard to tell there, those little guys can make an interesting sound.

At 1:49, his fill is quite difficult, giving you a quick hit on the snare, chilling on the hi-hat and coming back with the crash, right on time.

When they pull back for the wider shot at 2:33, you can see an odd-shaped cymbal in the upper right; it looks like it's inside out. It's called a China, and adds a different kind of sound, as you can hear. He comes back to it again later.

The fill at 2:58 might be my favorite. It utilizes the low toms by themselves for effect, which you don't often see in pop music. Usually they provide more of a rhythmic background (think of the trippy bridge in 'Welcome to the Jungle', here at 3:24), so it was nice to see them stand on their own.

A few seconds later, my favorite technical piece: He uses his right hand to take down the toms and the splash cymbals. Speaking from my own lack of expertise, that would be something I'd need two hands to do. Beauford needs only one, and is pounding on a cymbal on the left with his other hand. But then again, that's why he's a world-famous musician.

The fill coming out of the bridge at 3:42 is also impressive. Quick hands are a necessity.

At 3:51, he rides the toms up and down. I've always thought that was underused in pop music; it seems like you can get a wonderful effect when you go against the grain like that. Out of the fill, he puts the China on display, and you can really hear the difference from a normal crash.

The showboating's at 3:58. Nothing hard about hitting cymbals the way he does, but it does make for a more flashy performance. And that's really what it's all about, right?

Even so, it's an impressive display of musicianship. Bravo, my friend.

Killing time on a Friday afternoon...

2008-09-12T14:05:00.004-04:00

A few weeks ago, I walked downstairs in my normal evening attire; shirts are only for the most important of occasions, such as the chance of me dribbling dinner down my chest.

"Go get some clothes," my wife urged. Her fear, she said, was that unexpected guests might pop by. All I'd have is my evening, uh, best.

Her fears were realized this week when I was relaxing after a short day. I was awaiting her arrival in my typical at-home attire when the doorbell rang. Now what?

I didn't have a shirt on. When I answered the door and found out it was a traveling salesman, I didn't care that I didn't have a shirt on.

Long story short (and believe me, it'll be a lot less painful for you, dear reader, than it was for me): His company, a new startup, was in the neighborhood and was looking for ~~suckers~~ homeowners who needed a renovation and they were offering free estimates and would I be around Saturday and if that wasn't convienent they were also around in the weekday evenings because they know how challenging everyone's work schedule can be.

Sigh.

The guy was all about signing people up. I was all about not being signed up.

I felt like I gave him plenty of outs. Did he have a brochure I could show my wife, we would discuss it and get back to him? Nope, he just ran out of brochures. So, for the second time, would I be around Saturday and if that wasn't convienent they were also around in the weekday evenings because they know how challenging everyone's work schedule can be.

In the meantime, Grace the cat takes advantage of the open door and runs outside. Still shirtless, I chase after her and shoosh her inside.

Silly me. I thought perhaps my frustration of having the cat run outside while several minutes into this high-pressure pitch was evident on my face. It wasn't. He didn't miss a beat, even as I scolded Grace.

My sigh or general look of disinterest would've been a clue to a more adept salesman. But, well, you do the math.

My final lifeline was to ask for a phone number. My wife and I would discuss it and I would be in touch if we wanted to pursue their offer. Well, he said, we're still a pretty new company and don't really have a phone number yet, but would I be around Saturday and if that wasn't convienent they were also around in the weekday evenings because they know how challenging everyone's work schedule can be.

"Then we're not interested," I said. "Take care." And I closed the door.

Ten minutes of my life I won't get back...

I don't mean to dismiss the guy or his job; it's got to be a tough job. But how, exactly, does he expect to be taken seriously when he shows up out of nowhere selling a product we don't need from a company I've never heard of that doesn't even have a phone number? And then I'm supposed to be sympathetic when he doesn't take a veiled 'no' for an answer?

Sorry. Next caller.

But hey, if you can make some kind of a credible sales pitch, maybe I'll put a shirt on for you.

-- OVER AT THE WINE BLOG, we're rapidly coming up on our centennial wine. I can't believe I've made it that far. And I can't believe just what that says about me... (cough cough L cough U cough cough hack cough S cough cough H hack cough, clears throat)

Anyway, I signed up with this outfit called BlogBurst which takes your blogs and distributes them to various media outlets that sign up for them. When one of your blogs goes through, it gets posted on a little side area of the page.

I thought it made sense to sign up the wine blog, since that's more focused than this one, which is just a whole mess of crap.

But the latest stats from BlogBurst about who put one of my snippets on their page: Chicago Sun-Times 845, Reuters 23, Computer Shopper 1.

That's exactly what the Windy City needs: To be exposed to another blowhard.

Seven years ago

2008-09-11T12:16:00.002-04:00

Remembering how my day unfolded on that terrible day...

I lived in Manassas then, the first of my now four addresses since I moved south. I lived in the dark basement which was always brutally cold in the winter; but I did have the benefit of Dish Network, which the house's owner proudly purchased.

It should be no surprise that I've always been a news junkie. When I was a kid and got shipped off to summer camp for a week, I enjoyed camp for what it was but hated the fact that I felt so out of touch with what was happening elsewhere in the world.

When I woke up that morning, the remote was nearby and I flipped on one of the news programs; I can't remember if it was CNN or our local CBS affiliate, which was my choice at the time before the quality dropped off dramatically a few years later. I remember being confused; the words didn't match the picture. There was quite clearly a fire at the WTC, but the on-air folks were talking aviation.

Later, when the two ends met, I was stunned, as we all were. I flipped between channels to see who was reporting what, but there was no chance I'd turn off the TV. (That same TV had served me well over the years, coming on board during college and serving as the broadcasting centerpiece in the Woodbridge bachelor pad.)

When the first tower fell, I was on WUSA's local coverage, since events at the Pentagon were unfolding. I'll never, ever forget hearing JC Hayward, a veteran anchor and a real pro, mutter only "Oh my God," as it fell.

Then reports came in about the doomed plane that was taken down in a quiet field in western Pennsylvania. One thing ran through my mind: Is this it, is this the big one? Are we all screwed? I mean, four planes in one day?

I was incredibly saddened and moped around for a few minutes. But I figured my best option was to get into work and see what needed to be done. As I drove, the traffic seemed heavy but moving, and I wondered if all the other people on the road were feeling as shitty as me.

Once at work, I managed to slap together a photo page for the special edition that we put out. It wasn't a prizewinner, but we were all still in a fog and just trying to do what we could.

That night, there were three of us back in our Manassas bureau. We all had slices of a larger story, re-connecting with people who had ties to NYC or the Pentagon. I talked with the parents of a kid then at NYU, one that was a pretty damn good soccer player and and an even better singer while in high school. He went on to bigger and better things.

Once we had all filed, I hoped like hell the nearby pub was open. It wasn't. I had just hoped to find someplace to drown the sorrows of the day, and I would have gladly run up a considerable tab that night.

Instead, I went home and tried to sleep.

Go read this. Now!

2008-09-10T23:59:00.002-04:00

Our friend Dave, the pilot, details his descent into Philly as Hanna nears the city.

It's not a fun flight for anyone. But Dave is able to recount the blow-by-blow of how he landed in a tropical storm, which I'm sure tested even the most veteran flyers on that aircraft.

To get a sense of what Dave experienced - and this is in lighter winds on a clear night - here's a cockpit view of a 767 coming into JFK.

Flashback: Tourneau

2008-09-09T21:26:00.004-04:00

I drove for lunch yesterday when I was taken aback - in a good way - by a commercial I heard on our all-news talk station, WTOP.

The commercial itself wasn't anything flashy, nothing that would make you drop groceries to hear what was being said.

But it was one distinct word that caught my attention: Tourneau.

In the days of my youth, I got my television news from the 10 p.m. broadcast from WNYW, which is now the Fox affiliate in New York. Our cable system was such that channel 6 on our dial would broadcast WNYW programming until 11 p.m., when it changed to WPVI-6, the ABC affiliate in Philadelphia. We didn't miss any network programming, since my hometown was located in the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre market.

Those were the rollicking days of New York, with former mayor Ed Koch, Bernhard Goetz ("Go Mets! Go Jets! Go Goetz!" the punchline in Mad read), Tawana Brawley, the cocaine and crack epidemic, racial tensions in Bensonhurst and, later, late mob boss John Gotti. Every night, there was a spate of headlines that made NYC feel a thousand miles away from our 5,000-person rural town.

WNYW always began its newscasts with this: "It's 10 p.m. Do you know where your children are?" I can see some of the anchors and reporters as if it were yesterday. Perhaps you recognize the guy who appears in this clip at :17 and 1:30; he's on a network now, if just a little crustier. (If you couldn't guess, here you go.) Longtime anchor John Roland always came across as a pro, never overly dramatic, never needlessly hyping second-tier news. Every year, he would urge us to be careful with fireworks on Independence Day; and I'll never forget the night when a pre-recorded tease opened the news and Roland effortlessly brushed it off to get to the night's breaking news: the crash of TWA Flight 800.

I remember Nick Gregory from the weather (he's still there, too). Bill Mazer answered sports trivia questions every night from viewers; Carl White took over in 1991, but he was no Mazer. There were two guys who did commentary - Wiki IDs them as Dr. Martin Abend and Prof. Sidney Offit - who never agreed on anything. But I guess it was their job to get ratings.

Anyway, I remember much about the old Channel 5 newscasts. And I remember the commercials, too: Nobody Beats the Wiz. And discount electronic chain competitor Crazy Eddie (say it with me, his prices are IN-SAAAANNNNNEEEE). And who could forget Phil Rizzuto (RIP, Scooter) for The Money Store. (I also came across a Carvel ad, but I think that was more or a WWOR property.)

And then there was Tourneau. Back then, it was Tourneau Corner.

For all of the crazy news and wacky ads, nothing seemed so distant as Tourneau Corner.

What, I'd think, there's a store just for watches? And some of them cost a thousand dollars?!

There may well have been multiple locations, but I never saw an ad for Tourneau on any of the Philly stations. Now, they've got shops in most every major city in the country; the ad I heard the other day was for the shop at Pentagon City in Arlington.

In mere moments, I flashed back to my childhood and the wonders of living near a major city. I snapped back to that reality.

All because of a 30-second radio spot.

Analysis discernment

2008-09-08T13:51:00.002-04:00

With the advent of 24-hour news, there has to be something that fills those hours. Yes, to some degree, news happens every single minute of the day. But news judgment, which should be our industry's common sense, dictates that very few of those news events matter to the populace at large.

So gives rise to the analyst, which helps fill the duller moments. And it's a tricky business.

We all have agendas. Hell, I wouldn't be writing this if I didn't think anyone out there gave a rat's ass what I thought. (That may well be the case, but I'll take my chances.)

Analysts are no different; they are experts in their field. But for some, those agendas take precedence over their analysis.

The easiest example of this would be a certain media outlet serving, implicitly, as an organizational mouthpiece. Washington Redskins owner Dan Snyder, for example, recently purchased the region's top sports talk radio station; others have wondered openly whether criticism of the team would be neutered. Of course, those at the station say no, but it's a fair question.

It doesn't always have to be organization-wide, either. Which brings me to my least-favorite anaylst on any network that I frequently watch: this guy, whose name I cannot bring myself to type.

I have yet to see a moment of cogent analysis whenever he is on camera. CNN's other political analysts of either party seem to have little problem with this, the most basic aspect of their job. Republican strategists say that McCain is trying to achieve this, Democratic strategists counter that Obama will come back with that. Is it risky? Why is that this is important to be achieved? What's to be gained? What's to be lost?

You may get that from that guy, but whenever I've seen him, it comes in an offhand, dismissive manner. Instead, he cannot wait to jump all over whatever Democratic platform and decry what's so wrong with it.

I can figure that out for myself, thanks.

I'm watching to learn, to be informed, not to be persuaded. I'm looking for information, not beliefs. I'm looking for informed opinion, not outright bias.

He's the worst of the bunch. Sadly, the election is still two months away. That means two months longer of listening him blather on while failing to offer any significant insight.

But not for me. As soon as he comes on, I'm changing channels.

CFB Viewing Report, Week 2

2008-09-06T23:28:00.003-04:00

The TV signal managed to hold out in spite of the threat from TS Hanna. We missed HD broadcasts for much of the early afternoon, but the SD signal was much hardier and we weren't forced to miss any game action.

It was touch and go in the morning as the heaviest rains were moving in. We missed a fair portion of GameDay, but that wasn't a terrible loss. Well, it was for my wife, ever the Kirk Herbstreit fan.

(And by the way, is this a record? Three posts in one day?)

So, on with it, the rundown of who we caught in Week 2:

Air Force (beat Wyoming 23-3)
Alabama (beat Tulane 20-6)
Arizona State (beat Stanford 41-17)
Army (lost to New Hampshire 28-10)
Auburn (beat Southern Miss 27-13)
Boston College (lost to Ga. Tech 19-16)
Bowling Green (lost to Minnesota 42-17)
Buffalo (lost to Pitt 27-16)
BYU (beat Washington 28-27)
Central Florida (lost to So. Florida 31-24, OT)
Central Michigan (lost to Georgia 56-17)
Cincinnati (lost to Oklahoma 52-26)
Connecticut (beat Temple 12-9)
East Carolina (beat West Virginia 24-3)
Eastern Illinois (lost to Illinois 47-21)
Eastern Michigan (lost to Michigan St. 42-10)
Florida International (lost to Iowa 42-0)
Florida State (beat Western Carolina 69-0)
Georgia (beat Central Mich. 56-17)
Georgia Tech (beat BC 19-16)
Idaho (beat Idaho St. 42-27)
Idaho State (lost to Idaho 42-27)
Illinois (beat E. Illinois 47-21)
Indiana (beat Murray St. 45-3)
Iowa (beat Fla. Int'l 42-0)
Kansas (beat La. Tech 29-0)
Kansas State (beat Montana St. 69-10)
Kentucky (beat Norfolk St. 38-3)
Louisiana Tech (lost to Kansas 29-0)
Marshall (lost to Wisconsin 51-14)
Maryland (lost to MITSU 24-14)
Memphis (lost to Rice 42-35)
Miami, Ohio (lost to Michigan 16-6)
Michigan (beat Miami, Ohio 16-6)
Michigan State (beat E. Michigan 42-10)
Middle Tennessee State (beat Maryland 24-14)
Minnesota (beat Bowling Green 42-17)
Montana State (lost to K-State 69-10)
Murray State (lost to Indiana 45-3)
New Hampshire (beat Army 42-10)
New Mexico (lost to Texas A&M 28-22)
Norfolk State (lost to Kentucky 38-3)
Northern Colorado (lost to Purdue 42-10)
Notre Dame (beat San Diego St. 21-13)
Ohio (lost to Ohio St. 26-14)
Ohio State (beat Ohio 26-14)
Oklahoma (beat Cincy 52-26)
Ole Miss (lost to Wake Forest 30-28)
Oregon State (lost to Penn State 45-14)
Penn State (beat Oregon State 45-14)
Pitt (beat Buffalo 27-16)
Purdue (beat No. Colorado 42-10)
Rice (beat Memphis 42-35)
Richmond (lost to U.Va. 16-0)
San Diego State (lost to Notre Dame 21-13)
South Carolina (lost to Vandy 24-17)
South Florida (beat Central Fla. 31-24, OT)
Southern Mississippi (lost to Auburn 27-13)
Stanford (lost to Arizona St. 41-17)
Temple (lost to UConn 12-9)
Texas (beat UTEP 42-13)
Texas A&M (beat New Mexico 28-22)
Texas-El Paso (lost to Texas 42-13)
Tulane (lost to Alabama 20-6)
UNLV (lost to Utah 42-21)
Utah (beat UNLV 42-21)
Vanderbilt (beat South Carolina 24-17)
Virginia (beat Richmond 16-0)
Wake Forest (beat Ole Miss 30-28)
Washington (lost to BYU 28-27)
West Virginia (lost to East Carolina 24-3)
Western Carolina (lost to Florida St. 69-0)
Wisconsin (beat Marshall 51-14)
Wyoming (lost to Air Force 23-3)

EDITED to update with late-night scores. Hey, I was going to have a long day Sunday...

Calling bullshit

2008-09-06T18:36:00.003-04:00

Did you see that flag at the end of the BYU-Washington game?

As a part of a Husky household, it's hard not to be emotional about that call. In case you missed it, Washington quarterback Jake Locker scored on a draw with two seconds remaining, pulling the Huskies within a point of a ranked, non-conference opponent.

The PAT should have been a no-brainer, as they usually are. Until someone noticed there was a yellow flag in the end zone. Locker was called for unsportsmanlike conduct, and the PAT was pushed 15 yards back. The kick was blocked, sending Washington to an unexpected loss (though it's very much a possibility they could have lost in overtime).

Locker dove over the goalline, popped up and dropped the ball over his shoulder, like he was trying to reach an itch on his back before proceeding to celebrate with his teammates. In the officials' view, this was unsportsmanlike conduct.

Except it wasn't.

Given the situation and the call, it was as horseshit a call as you'll see. Officials are supposed to be like reporters: never inject yourself into the story. Yet here we are, talking about how these officials decided a game on a questionable call at the game's ultimate moment. (And BYU coach Bronco Mendenhall's interview after the game didn't help. "The rules are the rules," he said, but you can bet he'd have had a hernia if the flag didn't hand his team a win.)

Was it merely a misinterpretation of the NCAA's new, get-tough rules? Or was it just an awful call, limited only in scope by the game it affected?

There is a lot not to like about the NCAA. No other organization is so blind to reality; at postseason tournaments, the players are unfailingly referred to as student-athletes, yet there is at least some part of the population that is all of the latter and none of the former. The NCAA will always be happy to tell you how great and wonderful college athletics is, and yet when a situation contradicts that - as often happens - it's simply a rogue trying to gain an advantage.

And so with this, as the NCAA tries to crack down on showboating and me-first celebrations, taking a page from the No Fun League.

But I defy you to tell me that Locker's celebration was worthy of a penalty. Tell me that, at the moment of the touchdown, all the Cougar fans back in Provo or SLC pointed to the TV and screamed, "That should be a penalty!!!"

You can't, because you didn't. No right-minded person would have.

Washington got jobbed. Even the most frothing Wazzu or Oregon fan could not help but agree on this, not if they were being honest and not just putting on a show.

They were Pac-10 officials, and a statement from that league ought to be forthcoming. I won't advocate suspension or expulsion for this crew, but the Pac-10 simply must remind its officials that, in the end, common sense must prevail.

Because Lord knows we can't count on the NCAA for such a thing.

Hola, Hanna

2008-09-06T10:33:00.003-04:00

I thought of my brother-in-law, Mark, this morning. Funny that we should hear from him.

We've talked from time to time about weather, and just the radical climatological difference between his home region and mine.

I won't pretend to be any sort of expert on the Hailey/Ketchum, Idaho metro area, but my limited personal and anecdotal evidence suggest it's cold as balls. Snow hanging around late into spring, that sort of thing. When we visited for Mark and Maya's wedding, the nights were winter-jacket appropriate - which was rather jarring for me, considering it was October.

That's not severe weather, of course, just a simple climatological difference. But in the Northwest and into the Mountain West, wildfires are a constant threat. That's some scary stuff; we had a small one (by Western standards) a few miles from my house during high school. It was eerie to watch; though it was no threat to people or property, there was an overwhelming sense of helplessness, knowing that you could do little to change the fire's mind if it wanted to go somewhere.

The Northwest also deals with the occasional earthquake and the rarer volcano eruption. Pretty wild. Or so it seems to someone whose feet have been firmly entrenched in the Mid-Atlantic.

But I've been able to come back with some weather events that make our fair region formidable. Some areas of the Northwest can get humid in the summertime, though there's no comparison to the oppressive levels we can deal with here. That humidity has a tendency to kick up some wicked thunderstorms; 'bad' thunderstorms have a completely different meaning there than they do here.

And there's the occasional tornado, the most frightening of our weather events. Thankfully, they're rare; we had one earlier in the year that dissipated before it reached us. Still, seeing your county fall under a tornado warning is an attention-grabber.

If that wasn't enough, sometimes we just get some freak of meteorology that happens to pound us all with snow. If you lived on the east coast in the early 90s, you probably remember the Blizzard of '93, which kicked ass in my hometown in Pennsylvania (which, understandably, was ill-suited to handle the volume of snow we received) to places further south (which, understandaly, were ill-suited to handle any significant snow). The Blizzard of '93 happened to be an especially strong Nor'easter, a phenomenon also unknown to those west of the Mississippi.

And then there are days like today. Hello, Hanna.

The west coast is unaffected by storms that have names. We'll get them once every few years, the last notable one being Isabelle, which cancelled my wife's surprise birthday party that year. We held out hope for a long time that we could give it a go, but we gave up when our area started falling under a state of emergency.

Today is pretty much a washout, as expected. NASCAR rightly called off last night's Nationwide race and tonight's Cup race, pushing both back until Sunday. While it would be a fine day to spend watching college football, the severe weather has disrupted our DirecTV signal, which remains my greatest frustration with satellite TV. Even the standard-def channels are gone, and for some reason, they seem to be hardier than the high-def channels.

So we don't quite know what we'll be doing today. Maybe there's a trip to a bar in our near future.

Just so long as we don't get patio seating...

CFB Viewing Report: Week 1

2008-08-31T01:45:00.005-04:00

I took Dylan Thomas' advice. Though his most famous poem dealt with a subject more weighty than summer's annual disappearing act, I did exactly as he requested. For three weeks, I fought like hell against the opening of NFL training camps. Now, over a month later, the beginning of a new college football season was coming, whether I wanted it to or not. By the time the opening weekend began - the only one in which college does not compete with the NFL - I had resigned myself to its arrival.

It's here. And time for me to give you a rundown of the games I saw. As was the case last year, the only way I count a game is if I saw at least one play from scrimmage. But there is a twist to this season; since our move and the subsequent addition of DirecTV (sports tier and GamePlan), our volume of games should increase dramatically. At the end of the season, we'll tally up all the games and conferences we saw and see if there's anything we can learn from it.

The fruits of that, however, won't be known until at least Week 3. Tonight, I wound up getting involved with a friendly poker game (finished third; the top two got paid, of course); next weekend, the Sprint Cup tour rolls into Richmond, which means there will be limited viewing opportunities.

With all of that in mind, here's the Week 1 rundown:

Akron (lost to Wisconsin 38-17)
Appalachian State (lost to LSU 41-13)
Bowling Green (beat Pitt 27-17)
California, Pa. (beat West Chester 44-32)
Coastal Carolina (lost to Penn State 66-10)
Colorado (beat Colorado St. 38-17)
Colorado State (lost to Colorado 38-17)
Delaware (lost to Maryland 14-7)
East Carolina (beat Va. Tech 27-22)
Florida (beat Hawaii 56-10)
Fresno State (beat Rutgers 24-7)
Georgia (beat Ga. Southern 45-21)
Georgia Southern (lost to Georgia 45-21)
Hampton (beat Jackson St. 17-13)
Hawaii (lost to Florida 56-10)
Illinois (lost to Missouri 52-42)
Indiana (beat W. Kentucky 31-13)
Iowa (beat Maine 46-3)
Jackson St. (lost to Hampton 17-13)
LSU (beat Appalachian State 41-13)
Maine (lost to Iowa 46-3)
Maryland (beat Delaware 14-7)
Michigan (lost to Utah 25-23)
Missouri (beat Illinois 52-42)
Navy (beat Towson State 41-13)
Northwestern (beat Syracuse 30-10)
Ohio (lost to Wyoming 21-20)
Ohio State (beat Youngstown St. 43-0)
Oklahoma State (beat Wazzu 39-13)
Oregon (beat Washington 44-10)
Penn State (beat Coastal Carolina 66-10)
Pitt (lost to Bowling Green 27-17)
Rice (beat SMU 56-27)
Rutgers (lost to Fresno St. 24-7)
SMU (lost to Rice 56-27)
Southern Cal (beat U.Va. 52-7)
Syracuse (lost to Northwestern 30-10)
Tennessee (lost to UCLA 27-24)
Towson State (lost to Navy 41-13)
UCLA (beat Tennessee 27-24)
Utah (beat Michigan 25-23)
Villanova (lost to West Virginia 48-21)
Virginia (lost to USC 52-7)
Virginia Tech (lost to East Carolina 27-22)
Washington (lost to Oregon 44-10)
Washington State (lost to Oklahoma State 39-13)
West Chester (lost to California, Pa., 44-32)
West Virginia (beat Villanova 48-21)
Western Kentucky (lost to Indiana 31-13)
Wisconsin (beat Akron 38-17)
Wyoming (beat Ohio 21-20)
Youngstown State (lost to Ohio State 43-0)

Italics indicate a non-Division I game.

Edits to add Sunday games.

CNN ticker people, you suck

2008-07-24T23:45:00.002-04:00

A complaint just e-mailed to CNN:

CNN and staffers,

I am e-mailing to ask what happened to the scrolling ticker at the bottom. Not long ago, it was a good source to get the news of the day; now, it's merely a headline regurgitator, devoid of context and greater meaning.

Instead of getting a sense of the news, I now get a snippet. Instead of getting the five W's, I now get two - maybe.

I expect better from CNN. While I dearly hope I'm wrong, this new format comes off as a ham-handed way to fit more words on the screen at once.

Unfortunately, your online video archives don't include the scrolling overlay, so I cannot provide specifics. But clearly, the tone of the ticker has changed.

You should be elevating our discourse, not dumbing it down. Yet that's precisely what has happened, both in terms of content and execution.

Each sentence is barely more than a subject, verb and maybe a few modifiers. And that's when the whole word is written out; it seems that in this new format, every word that can possibly be shortened will be. "Weekend" becomes "wknd;" "attorney general" is reduced to "atty gen." Please leave the text-message speak for the kids.

Let's take a current event and use it to illustrate the differences: Sen. Obama's speech in Berlin, for instance.

What I could have expected to read on the old version of the ticker: "Barack Obama continues overseas tour with speech in Berlin today on mending fences with allies."

What I can expect to read on the current version of the ticker: "Obama to speak in Berlin tdy."

Please go back to the old way. From my perspective, all you manage to do is cycle through the full roster of headlines more quickly; once upon a time, I would read an item of interest and be disappointed when it got interrupted by a commercial break. I'd wait around until the next segment, then wait further until I could read the conclusion of the brief.

Now, you simply encourage me to pick up the remote that much faster.

This new version encompasses the worst aspect of television news: Squeezing the most into the least and if major details happen to get left out, oh well.

No one has an attention span longer than two minutes anyway, right?

Wrong. I expect better and, if CNN cannot (or chooses not to) provide that, I'll find other means of getting my news.

Posted without - er, with one comment

2008-07-15T23:45:00.002-04:00

It's symbolic for me. And no, it has nothing to do with my wife, whom I love deeply and could not be happier with. The lyrics are metaphoric in a different way.

Thanks for nothing, General Assembly

2008-06-23T23:42:00.005-04:00

The rift between Northern Virginia and the rest of the Commonwealth is nothing new. The rural parts of the state live decidedly different lives than us in suburbia. Out there, life is quiet and uncomplicated; here, I hear a car or truck buzz by every few seconds at 11:42 p.m.

As the above story notes, geopolitical factions (in a micro sense) exist in our state government. Today, our legislature was supposed to hold a special session to figure out just how to fund our overwhelmed transportation system.

But does anyone really expect anything to be accomplished?

Gov. Tim Kaine (D) has one plan, which includes the raising of some existing taxes - notably, our sales tax and various vehicle-related fees. Senate Majority Leader Richard Saslaw (D-Fairfax) wants to raise taxes on gas. Republicans in the House of Delegates, a group largely comprised of those outside of Northern Virginia, are adamant about not approving any state-wide tax hikes.

Kaine's is the better of the two plans, though it would be interesting to hear Saslaw's defense of his plan in the fall come election time. With gas whizzing past $4 a gallon, it's not hard to envision Saslaw needing to polish up the resume. Kaine's plan is better, though still unadviseable in such a poor economy. Why not wait a few months to see if the economy improves and the populace can better withstand a tax increase? It's not like the roads will get any worse in a few months; they can't get any worse than they already are.

An important side note: One factoid in this Fox 5 story (click the first video) mentions that though we pay 40 percent of the taxes in the state, we would only receive 14 percent in return. Meanwhile, in a Lynchburg News & Advance editorial, the paper wonders: "Del. David Albo [R-Fairfax, my addition], a top member of the tax-hating wing of the House GOP, has a simple plan to solve his region’s problems: Simply change the funding formula and send state money to the transportation districts based on population. Want to venture a guess how the rural Lynchburg District would fare under that plan?" I suppose that the fine people of Lynchburg have a greater right to my tax dollars than Interstate 95, which I drive daily.

Not that any of that matters. The House Republicans, meanwhile, continue to show their nonchalance at the challenges we face every day. Ostensibly, their job is to govern the Commonwealth for the benefit of all; but here we are, hoping desperately they'll throw us a crumb while they stand back and laud their principles. The time has long passed for grandstanding, gentlemen.

I suppose cutting spending in other areas wouldn't be an option. Surely our friends in the legislature don't employ too much pork-barrel spending, do they? Our attorney general wants an audit to make sure the Department of Transportation uses its money efficiently; such an audit would surely cost the Commonwealth in financial and human resources that we don't really have.

Virginia's General Assembly got us into this mess. It's their job to dig us out. But that won't happen, not as long as William Howell and his cohorts are allowed to punt the issue for the umpteenth time. It won't happen as long as Kaine, Saslaw and the Democrats can't come up with any sort of alternative that, even if only temporarily, can stop the bleeding.

It's all about principles, even as we suffer through another day of clogged roads and no hope. Another day of being held hostage by our supposed leaders, many of whom derive a fair portion of their paychecks from our region's taxes. Yet they are unaccountable to us, and unwilling or unable to recognize that their misguided indecision has tangible effects.

The great unwashed pay the price for their principled stands. Compromise is unbecoming.

How I dearly wish I could vote against the lot of them.

Something to dull the mind

2008-06-17T00:26:00.002-04:00

Monday was not a happy day for those of us in the industry we're in. The news, literally and figuratively, gets worse and worse.

It's heartbreaking for those who walked out of the office on Monday for the last time, the winners of a lottery that makes us all poorer.

But we trudge on as best we can, hoping that we'll have a job tomorrow and the next day and the next day... but always wondering when our number will be up.

In order to kill the pain and forget about our life for a moment, I offer this. My screensaver at work offers a choice of 73 photos for passersby the take a look at. Here's each of the 73 as a way to catch a glimpse into someone's life:

1. An overhead shot (from several thousand feet) of Washington National Airport (DCA)
2. A long exposure of a DCA takeoff at night, red lights lifting off from runway 31
3. In-flight photo on short final into Philadelphia (PHL), showing the Philadelphia sports complex
4. An interior photo of a silhouetted passenger inside the terminal at DCA
5. Long final into the fog at San Francisco (SFO)
6. A worker carts a load of bags at Portland (PDX)
7. The tail of a Qantas 767 with a 747 takeoff in the background
8. Wine being poured out of a holding tank
9. Unidentified 747 on short final into London Heathrow (LHR)
10. Virgin Atlantic 747 takeoff at LHR
11. Header attempt in front of net at a UEFA game; keeper punches out
12. Bob Barker in front of the venerable Plinko board
13. A Champions Tour golfer putting at Sunriver, with Mt. Bachelor in the background
14. Overhead shot of the terminals at Newark Liberty (EWR)
15. Lineup of long-haul planes at Tokyo Haneda (RJTT)
16. Man lighting up a cigar
17. High shot from behind home plate at PNC Park, with downtown Pittsburgh in the background
18. Employees share a hug as they board Delta's new 777
19. Northwest 747 as seen from inside the terminal at Detroit (DTW)
20. Branded Northwest winglet, as seen in flight
21. Man holding two beers on a bartop
22. Asante Samuel's introductory press conference with Eagles coach Andy Reid and owner Jeff Lurie
23. Rows of wine grapes in Oregon
24. United 747 just after liftoff at SFO
25. Plate of Buffalo wings, celery and beer in the background
26. A winemaker walks through her vineyard in France
27. Cork and cap from French wines
28. GTA4 screenshot: Niko firing from behind a bullet-riddled car
29. Billboards advertising GTA4 release
30. GTA4 screenshot: Niko with an RPG
31. GTA4 screenshot: Niko looks over his shoulder
32. Unidentified customer plunks down money for a copy of GTA4
33. Emergency landing on I-81 in southwest Virginia, near sign that reads: "Va. Highlands Airport, next exit"
34. Empty I-95 in central Philadelphia with center city in the background
35. Giant doors leading to the Guinness factory
36. Balloonist cruises past Mt. Bachelor
37. A Mariners player works on his bunting during spring training
38. Monaco F1 race: Ferrari driver maneuvers through a chicane
39. Monaco coastline with street course in view
40. Monaco near start/finish line
41. Va. Tech coach Frank Beamer speaks to a few reporters at Richmond International Raceway
42. Green flag at Auto Club Speedway as drivers speed past
43. Daytona 500 racing on the backstretch, near an Airtran MD80
44. Daytona's massive grandstand as night falls
45. Sprint Cup haulers parade down The Strip in Las Vegas, near a billboard for Lance Burton
46. Barack Obama campaigns in central Oregon
47. Man dressed up as a pint of Guinness; the costume was later stolen
48. Vijay Singh gazes out to sea at Pebble Beach
49. Running back tries to break away from defenders at Oregon spring practice
50. Kayaker prepares to enter the Deschutes River
51. Golfer tees off at the par-3 seventh at Pebble Beach
52. Surfer on the waves near Pebble
53. Pelicans crowd the top of a waterfall fountain in Portland
54. Philadelphia's famous Boathouse Row along the Schuylkill River
55. Ryan Howard homers off a hapless Pirates pitcher during spring training
56. Golfer walks toward the island green (par-3 17th) at TPC Sawgrass
57. Flyers players celebrate a goal against Ottawa
58. South Park's four main characters around a campfire
59. Singapore Airlines' new A380 lands
60. Kegs of beer on a truck at Euro 2008
61. Korean DMZ with border markers in view
62. Vineyard in Spain with mountains in the background
63. Idaho thaws with melting snow in the low ground with snow-capped mountains in the background
64. Stealth fighters fly overhead in a group of three
65. A Starbucks store in Seattle
66. Construction site with downtown Reno in the background
67. Portland's Rose Garden
68. The storefront for Powell's Books in downtown Portland
69. A ferry crosses the water in front of the Space Needle in Seattle
70. Traffic stopped at a checkpoint on the Venezuela-Columbia border
71. American vineyards
72. Air circulator in vineyard
73. A snowplow works in futility at a messy Logan International (BOS) in Boston

So there you have it. A little glimpse at the images that put my mind at ease... Lord knows we need plenty of that these days.

The contradiction of "community"

2008-05-25T02:14:00.002-04:00

More than a year ago, I wrote about the lack of community - more accurately, a lack of connection to any of our nearby neighbors in our old apartment building.

We lived there several years; in our building, there were 14 apartments. Turnover was moderate.

In that time, I can think of eight people we acquainted with on any sort of level. (That doesn't count the one-time idiots below us, who insisted on blaring music on Christmas day a few years ago while we tried to enjoy dinner with my parents and my aunt and uncle. I pounded on their door, twice, with all I could. I guess they couldn't hear me over that damn music.)

In less than a month at our new place, we already have some sort of acquaintance with six.

It's strange that when people were so closely packed together, as we were in the apartments, there was zero sense of community. Now that we have bigger houses and a lot fewer people we share a wall with, we have people who come to greet us.

I have a couple of theories that I'd love to share, but one wonders how they'll be construed by the wider internets. Rather than risk it - a small risk, as there's nothing mean-spirited or otherwise derisive about it - I'll just keep them to myself.

To me, though, it just seems an interesting juxtaposition.

-- COUNTERCULTURE, SQUARED: As we moved the final items out of the apartment this afternoon, we stopped at Taco Bell for some quick dinner. While we were there, a guy came in with some friends; he had a green-tipped mohawk. A spiky one at that.

I mentioned to my wife that back in college, we had a saying for that sort of moment (that, unlike above, is completely derisive in both tone and content). It's an "Awww, Notice Me" moment, though words on a screen don't convey how snarky it sounds.

If, I told her, he really cared about being countercultured, he wouldn't care how he looked. Our society praises appearance as much as anything; the one respite, it seems, is complete visual slobbery. But isn't it rather contradictory to, on one hand, flaunt society's norms, yet somehow spend (what I assume is) an inordinate amount of time preening in front of the mirror, making sure each hair is straight up and colored green at just the right spot? Somewhere, Paul Mitchell beams with pride.

But you know what they say about the ends and the means...

He made his statement.

We chuckled to ourselves and kept eating.

Welcome, spring

2008-05-09T01:06:00.002-04:00

From earlier this evening:

BULLETIN - EAS ACTIVATION REQUESTED
TORNADO WARNING
NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE BALTIMORE MD/WASHINGTON DC
1115 PM EDT THU MAY 8 2008

THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE IN STERLING VIRGINIA HAS ISSUED A

* TORNADO WARNING FOR...
 PRINCE GEORGES COUNTY IN CENTRAL MARYLAND...
 ST. MARYS COUNTY IN CENTRAL MARYLAND...
 FAIRFAX COUNTY IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA...
 PRINCE WILLIAM COUNTY IN NORTHERN VIRGINIA...

* UNTIL 1215 AM EDT

* AT 1114 PM EDT...NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE DOPPLER RADAR INDICATED A
 DEVELOPING TORNADO 6 MILES NORTHEAST OF FREDERICKSBURG...MOVING NORTHEAST
 AT 19 MPH.

IF YOU ARE IN OR NEAR THE PATH OF THIS STORM...TAKE COVER NOW! IF NO
UNDERGROUND SHELTER IS AVAILABLE MOVE TO AN INTERIOR ROOM ON THE
LOWEST FLOOR. MOBILE HOMES AND VEHICLES SHOULD BE ABANDONED FOR MORE
SUBSTANTIAL SHELTER. AVOID WINDOWS!

OK, the truth is that isn't a real National Weather Service alert. I reconstituted a later one because I couldn't find the original.

But you can understand my concern when Doug Hill breaks into the newscast and announces that the National Weather Service has just issued a tornado warning for five different counties; Fairfax was one of them.

A Doppler-indicated tornado had been observed in far southeast Prince William County - the same county where I work - and was somewhere between north and northeast. Due north would drop the storm right near our house.

I got myself mentally ready. I had listened to what Hill had said earlier: If a strong wind suddenly comes out of the blue, that's your cue to find shelter. I was thinking I'd have to get Linds out of bed, we'd head downstairs to the bathroom there and wait it out, hoping for the best. The cats most assuredly wouldn't follow, but we'd cross that bridge when we came to it, I guess...

Fortunately for us, the severe storm veered eastward and away from us. Though it's hard to be too happy when our regional neighbors may be out of home. The tornado came rather close to La Plata, Md., which was devastated by an F4 tornado six years ago.

I remember that storm. I was sitting alone in the old townhouse - the 'Bachelor Pad' townhouse with Keith and Kipp - and was taken aback by the sudden, considerable downfall of hail. It rained like crazy, as hard as I'd ever recall seeing. It was a bad storm for us, to be sure; but when it hit the water, it got so much worse.

This one was nothing like that. Aside from some moments of heavy rain and a crack of thunder that rattled the house (and scared the living shit out of me), there were no hairy moments.

All in all, it's been a hell of a week, what with the microquake and now a tornado warning.

Welcome, spring. Glad to see you're back.

Where have I been?

2008-05-07T12:01:00.002-04:00

Simple as 1, 2, 3.

1.

2.

3.

And... we're back

2008-04-26T01:04:00.003-04:00

Don't know what ya got 'til it's gone...

We were supposed to be hooked up last week. On the great Friday move-in, Cox was supposed to come by and get us back online. They came by, but things didn't quite go as planned; namely that the technician said I needed to have my computer running for some reason. It was still packed away neatly. He offered to come back later and I got the computer running - sans speakers - just in case he did come back.

He did finally call - but we were at dinner, fully figuring that by 7:30, he'd called it a day.

So we made due netless for the next seven days. I kept myself busy with learning, kicking ass and finally getting frustrated at Tiger Woods 08; I later kept myself busy with learning, kicking ass and, at times, getting frustrated with a used copy of NCAA Football 08. (I am proud to say that Penn State knocked off unbeaten and fourth-ranked Michigan; were such an event to happen in reality, I would find myself in hysterics for days afterward. Sadly, even in the best of years, Penn State has proven no match for the Wolverines.)

We rescheduled for today, having largely resolved the logistical issues of internet in a three-level townhouse: We'd go with a wireless network, preferably one that had wired jacks in the rear. That limited the cost to just a router and a PC adapter; a wireless XBox receiver runs around $78 at Amazon; at Best Buy, it was just under $100.

So, in the midst of much running around today, I came home with this beauty from Linksys and the accompanying PC adapter.

The installation proved more difficult than first thought - though I was mostly hanging out while the technician did the hard work. Trying to merge cable internet and satellite TV isn't easy, apparently. Something about satellite TV needing one cable per television.

But he worked diligently and completed the task - hopefully not too late for a Friday happy hour.

With our good friend Donna on her way over, there was little time to worry about computers and networking. She became our first official dinner guest at the new place, so long as burgers on the deck qualify as a dinner party.

I knew at some point, Lindsay and Donna would have myriad things to discuss. So I bowed out a bit after dinner to get this thing running.

Setting up the router was easy: Hook it up to the computer, let it rework the settings and call it good. The PC adapter was much more troublesome, due in part to my own silliness.

I needed an open slot in the rear of the computer. It took me at least 15 minutes to realize that the slot holder would not simply disengaged, no matter how much I bent the metal. I had to go inside the PC to take care of that.

It took me another 15 minutes to figure out how to open the damn thing. Whaddya know, there's a tab that you push in one direction and the side cover slips off. That was about the fourth thing I tried.

With the computer open, I tried to slap the card in. It seemed secure enough, so I buttoned it up again, hooked up that funky antenna thing (which proved difficult for one with pudgy fingers) and went to try it out.

Except for one problem: Windows didn't load. After the initial startup screens, I saw only a black screen - no login or anything. Nothing in the manuals described any sort of problem.

So I thought I'd get some help from the tech support at Linksys. I waited until Donna left and Linds was ready for bed; I dialed them up and got no help whatsoever.

I had a simple problem, or so I thought. Yet the CSR wanted to know my phone number, my name, my e-mail, what kind of router I had, when I bought it, how I connected to the internet before, who my ISP was - all of these ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the problem.

I tried twice to explain that the problem was NOT that I couldn't get online. The problem was that my computer wasn't working at all after installing the adapter.

So here was his solution: Let's check the configuration. I'll need to take the router, PC adapter and hook them up to the internet source - in this case, a cable modem downstairs. I explained that would not be possible; the internet source and the computer were on two different levels, which was why we decided to go wireless in the first place.

"But to solve the problem, we must check the configuration," I was told.

"Well, I guess I'm outta luck then," I replied. I hung up.

Linksys, you really need to do a better job with the tech support. Simply having people read prompts from a computer is not the way to help your consumers. Not once did I feel like the person I was speaking to had any knowledge of the product, nor did he in any way try to diagnose what was going wrong - which, to me, is the essence of tech support. My problem had nothing to do with the configuration; I don't even work in IT and I know that.

I tried looking at the card again. I opened up the computer and the adapter wasn't so secure after all. I tried moving to a different open port, got it snapped in snugly - I was sure this time - and tried again. I got some of the indications I was expecting, but not all. Linksys' own wireless viewer left only one option - exit. The router was on and pumping out airwaves, even if they didn't connect to anything.

I uninstalled the software and tried to do it again. This time, everything came up rosy. I saw a Yahoo page on this computer that I hadn't seen in some time - eight days, actually. But still.

So I'm back. Finally.

This is really starting to feel like home...

Balls.

2008-04-11T16:49:00.003-04:00

Four games and the Nats' shiny new field is broken...

Then again, they've lost seven straight.

Notice a parallel?

Lipozene, you suck

2008-04-11T01:09:00.003-04:00

Been a long time since I ranted. One during the fall - trickeration is still not a freaking word - but precious little lately in the always-fun "You Suck" series. Don't worry, I got ya tonight.

My wife and I watch South Park most nights it's on - particularly for the older episodes that were actually predictably funny.

When we watch, however, we cannot escape the ludicrous ads for a weight-loss pill called Lipozene. My real problem with the ad will come a bit later. All you need to know is it's sham. It's not popular on the Internets (read the rest of the results after the first one on the Google search); it's produced by a dubious company, the Obesity Research Institute (mentioned in this settlement release from the FTC); and it makes ridiculous claims that shouldn't stand up to anyone's smell test. No, a pill is not going to make me thinner all by itself, no matter how many layers of mascara you put on that grubby snout.

Problems with the product? Yeah.

Problems with the ads? Hell yeah.

It's an innocuous, throw-away line that doesn't even make one of the ludicrous claims:

"Body fat is unattractive..."

Don't tell me what I should think. I could write all I want that your company should, you know, run its business ethically and without the need for governmental intervention. My guess is that it won't sway you.

And who are you to make such a claim? There are gorgeous, plus-sized women all around us. Caroline Rhea. Queen Latifah. Jilly from North Philly. Holly Rowe. And a thousand other women whose names you don't know, around us every day, beautiful in their own way.

Suck it, Lipozene. Here's hoping the feds drop by soon for another chat...

I don't want to say I told you so, but...

2008-04-09T00:34:00.001-04:00

Read this first if you haven't already.

It's now just after 12:30 a.m.

Whaddya know, I'm still on the computer, still typing.

I never would have seen this one coming...

Deja vu

2008-04-08T23:36:00.003-04:00

Remember this?

It's going to happen again, supposedly. Like in 26 minutes.

We've been notified by our wonderful friends at Hillwood that Dominion Virginia has to cut the power tonight.

From their letter:

"In an effort to improve service reliability in your area, Dominion Va. Power Company will be performing maintenance in our neighborhood. In order to perform this work it will be necessary to interrupt your electric service for approximately 4 hours (bold replaces the underline in the original document).

[Commentary: Bullshit. Unplanned service interruption hasn't been a problem in some time; my guess is perhaps since last summer, when thunderstorms happen and power outages happen. I understand. Copy editing gripe: The name of the company isn't Dominion Va. It's Dominion Virginia.]

"Your electric service will be interrupted on Wednesday, April 9, 2008 at 12am until 5am.

[Commentary: Hmmm, I thought they said it would four hours; midnight to 5 a.m. is five hours. But whatever. Copy editing gripe: adding a space after "12" and "5" and inserting periods for correctness - a.m. - isn't hard.]

"We regret any inconvenience you may be caused by this interruption in service and will make every effort to keep the duration of the outage to a minimum."

[Commentary: If they really regretted it, they wouldn't be doing it.]

So we're down to 15 minutes now. Or so I'm led to believe.

We had one instance some time ago where a contractor was forced to turn off the hot water rather early in the morning - like 8 a.m. Emergency repairs or some other crap.

Except that by 7:45, the water was cold as ice. I know. I was in the shower. My wife didn't even make it into the shower that day.

I called for an explanation.

"The repairmen arrived early and decided to start work," I was told. Though I don't really remember her being sorry for any sort of real inconvenience.

And then there's that time I linked above. Power was supposed to be cut. The time came, went and passed with nary a hitch.

So which will it be this time? I've got my flashlight at the ready, just in case they surprise us all and follow through as planned.

Only 10 more days of this.

I can't wait to get out.

Holy crap, we own a house!

2008-04-05T00:02:00.002-04:00

It became official for us today. Apartment living will soon be just a memory.

It's weird to think that in two weeks - when the movers arrive - all of this stuff that's sitting around me will be carted off, arriving a few miles to the southwest. The desk, the computer, all these books, the trinkets just above the computer... well, maybe the old Sawtooth wine bottle will find itself in the recycling bin. It's only sitting here to remind me that I mischaracterized the varietal, a problem long since fixed.

We got lucky on a number of fronts.

The market is unbelievably soft, as I'm sure you've seen, read or know first-hand. The choices were almost overwhelming; our real estate agent sent us like 20 new listings every few days.

And when we did find the one we wanted, we got a damn good price on it. In a stronger market, we'd still be looking.

Our house - and it's still weird to write that in any instance but the middling 80s hit by Madness - was on the market for three months with nary a nibble. When we went to closing today, the listing agent said she had two inquiries about the house in recent days - stroke of luck No. 2.

Stroke of luck No. 3: We almost didn't visit the place. The original listing price was near the upper reaches of our limit, but we were out and about one Sunday and figured what the hell. So we went and had a great time with a fill-in for the listing agent. She said she'd been in real estate enough years that when people find the right house, it's immediately apparent.

We walked out of the house that day. I asked Linds, "So, what did you think?"

"I'd move in tomorrow," she said.

"Yeah... me too," I replied.

Lastly, and most importantly, we had a bunch of really wonderful people in our corner.

Katharine was our real estate agent. (Go give her your business, slackers!) She was our age, a joy to go house shopping with and just someone very fun to be around. Above all, she got it - increasingly I find that's about the best compliment I can give someone (though, sadly, I seem to use it rarely anymore). She's a Redskins fan and her favorite player is Santana Moss, but surely you can look past that.

Marianne was our lender. She too was awesome; she's been at her job for several decades and knows it cold. No question was made to feel silly. And, like Katharine, she's a joy to be around.

We both have letters of recommendation pending to them. Both will be glowing.

We hit the jackpot in a lot of areas. Any sort of snag along the way - or even dealing with people we didn't hit it off with - would have made the process less smooth and more of a challenge.

Because, really, it was a breeze. From discovery to offer to negotiation to agreement to settlement, it all seemed like it was just too easy.

Luck played some part in that, but a secondary one to the great people we had the pleasure of dealing with.

Thanks, guys.

(A final note: We have a gallery of photos from the place, one way too big to post here. If you haven't gotten the e-mail and would like it, shoot me an e-mail.)

How could you let me forget the tally?

2008-04-01T00:06:00.002-04:00

It occurred to me the other day that I never followed through on a promise. I never bothered to add up the numbers from the weekly college football report.

OK, so it's not timely in any possible way. But maybe you just have a hankering for thinking about college football - a sort of hot stove, if you will.

And if not, just play along anyway.

This was only taken from six weekends; therefore it represents about half of the games I actually watched this season. Bowl games didn't count.

So long as I saw one scrimmage play, that qualified as having "watched" a game.

On with it, already...

I saw every team in each of the following conferences at least once: ACC, Big 12, Big East and the SEC. (Remember, this is just based on the weekends I recorded. I know for a fact that I saw every team in the Pac 10; the one team that didn't show up on the list - Oregon State - I saw play against Washington. I remember the game because they carted UW's stud quarterback, Jake Locker, off in an ambulance. Thankfully, the injury turned out to be nothing serious.)

The team I saw the most - and this surprised me - was Penn State, a total of six times. That's unusual, since we're not in Penn State's market. Or a Big 10 market for that matter.

I saw the following teams five times: Florida, Iowa, Notre Dame, Rutgers, Tennessee and Vanderbilt.

Of all the I-AA teams, I saw Richmond the most: four times.

Some conferences were woefully lacking. In Conference USA's West Division, I saw only one game from half of the schools (Houston, Tulsa, UTEP) and none from the other half (Rice, SMU, Tulane).

(A quick aside: the last one hurts considerably. Back when good buddy Keith and I battled on NCAA Football on PS2, we built our respective schools into powerhouses. Keith turned Rutgers around - back when turning around Rutgers was laughable - and I did likewise with Tulane. We particularly enjoyed Lee Corso's pronunciation: TOO-lane!)

A similar situation occurred with the MAC West. I saw one game from half the teams (Ball State, Central Michigan, Eastern Michigan) and none from the other half (Northern Illinois, Toledo, Western Michigan).

But no conference fared worse than the Mountain West. Were it not for a Utah-TCU game I stumbled upon, I would have seen exactly zero contests from the entire conference. For heaven's sake, I saw more Idaho games than I saw MWC games!

A breakdown by conference:

ACC: Most frequent viewings: 4 (Clemson, Georgia Tech, Maryland, Miami-Fla., North Carolina, Virginia Tech); least frequent viewings: 1 (North Carolina State)

Big 10: Most frequent viewings: 6 (Penn State); least frequent viewings: 0 (Minnesota)

Big 12: Most frequent viewings: 4 (Colorado, Texas); least frequent viewings: 1 (Baylor, Oklahoma State)

Big East: Most frequent viewings: 5 (Rutgers); least frequent viewings: 1 (Louisville)

Conference USA: Most frequent viewings: 2 (East Carolina, Southern Miss); least frequent viewings: 0 (Memphis, Rice, SMU, Tulane)

MAC: Most frequent viewings: 4 (Miami-Ohio); least frequent viewings: 0 (Northern Illinois, Toledo, Western Michigan)

Mountain West: Most frequent viewings: 1 (TCU, Utah); least frequent viewings: 0 (Air Force, BYU, Colorado State, New Mexico, San Diego State, UNLV, Wyoming)

Pac 10: Most frequent viewings: 4 (Cal, USC); least frequent viewings: 0 (Oregon State)

SEC: Most frequent viewings: 5 (Florida, Tennessee, Vanderbilt); least frequent viewings: 2 (Arkansas)

WAC: Most frequent viewings: 4 (Fresno State); least frequent viewings: 0 (Hawaii, New Mexico State)

Independents: Most frequent viewings: 4 (Notre Dame); least frequent viewings: 0 (Western Kentucky)

-----

Now, next year we'll have to do it from the start of the season...

Longing for the long-ago... or the near future

2008-03-21T06:39:00.004-04:00

We slept better in the days before Hank arrived.

Look at the timestamp for heaven's sake. There's no sign of sun whatsoever outside, only the faint roar of jet engines on the way to DCA (good Lord, what time did they have to get up?).

I know Linds hears those engines. She's awake too. But she's determined to get back to sleep. Or maybe just more determined than me.

See, back in the long-ago time when we were a one-cat household, nights were largely peaceful. When I went to bed, our bedroom door was shut. The only time we had to open it was when we heard Grace really screw up and knock something over or the first time we got a visit from a new neighbor cat. Whew, Grace was pissed that night; thankfully the glass door to the deck held up well.

Bringing home Hank changed all of that.

We had no other place to put Hank's litter box, so it's in the bathroom just off of our bedroom.

So that means we have to leave the door open. All night. Any cat can come and go as he/she pleases.

At some point earlier tonight, I kicked Grace off the bed. She usually doesn't bother us, but that's still a more frequent occurrence than it used to be.

Hank employs the litter box (in theory, see below) at least once when we're sleeping, and that's if we're lucky. And his visits aren't quick in-and-out deals; they're full-blown melodramas. There's no sound as he's doing his thing, but afterward, the cacophony is stunning.

He can't cover his pee with three well-placed flicks of his paw. Nope, it's got to be seven or eight. And by then, he's hit the bottom of the litter box, so he's scraping against plastic. Then, as he did earlier this morning, he may get out of his box, stand on his hind legs to reach inside and dig himself a hole. With both front paws. Finding the bottom quickly.

He's in there right now. I just counted seven swipes with his paw, then a break. That's less than an hour after his peeing adventure that woke us both up initially.

Could we shut the door all night? Probably, but we have a hard enough time getting Hank to pee in his litter box. Lord knows what kind of presents the morning would bring if we were to limit access to his box.

Within the past two months, we moved the water dish into the computer room, about four feet to my right. Hank couldn't seem to be quiet about that, either. No, before virtually every drink - and sometimes multiple times during drinking sessions - Hank finds it necessary to run his paw over the rim of the dish.

We're left with an audible 'ting, ting, ting, ting' which, when describing it, doesn't sound bad. But when you hear 10-20 times a night and it wakes you from your sleep, it becomes a new sort of water torture.

That's why, when we're out house hunting, we look at even the crappiest places with a sense of longing.

Three levels? Imagine the peacefulness.

We simply cannot wait.

-- LASTLY, a few videos for you.

This one was posted over at LiveATC and I couldn't resist the temptation to post it here. A Russian-built plane uses every last inch of the runway to get airborne in Australia - and I do mean every last inch.

The commentary from the Aussie cameraman is hilarious, too.

Secondly, I've never seen anything like this. Ever. And I've driven in some really difficult driving conditions.

You can thank me later.

2008-03-05T00:24:00.003-05:00

Now this takes me back.

And yes, you do have 40 minutes to watch this.

I would totally get a Decepticon tattoo.

Don't move to Hillwood

2008-02-29T11:09:00.002-05:00

If you're in the market for an apartment in Northern Virginia, don't bother with Hillwood. Save your business for someplace that appreciates it.

I'm debating whether to write the rest of this now while my rage is fresh. At the moment, I'm past a level of seething I didn't know was possible.

Here are the unvarnished facts: I parked illegally last night. I got towed.

I take responsibility for that; my fault and no one else's.

Dig past the top level, however, and that's where the source of my frustration lies.

I parked across from a dumpster, which has ample room around it - including the spaces directly across from it, where I was. An SUV was parked in one space next to it that's just as illegal; yet when I walked out this morning, there sat that SUV. Mine was gone.

We seem to have a problem of selective enforcement; how much Hillwood plays into this and how much the towing company, Henry's, does is unclear.

To legally park in our lot, a car requires decals available only from the main office. We walk past multiple cars each night that display no stickers; there are two motorcycles in a front space that show no signs of a decal yet have sat there for several months, despite the presence of a motorcycles-only space about 50 feet away.

Most of my neighbors have stickers. I do too.

But when I arrive home late, as I have twice in the past week because of basketball playoffs, spaces are extremely limited. I have to park pretty far away from my building; but I understand that. Most people get home at 6 p.m. or so. Because I don't, I pay the price. I do understand.

This week, on both Tuesday and Thursday nights, there were no spaces available. Zero. None.

So this tells me that one of two things is happening: 1. The management company is unconcerned about how many decals they give out. Each person that rents with them gets one sticker; a second can be purchased. But is there any sort of regulation that goes with this? If they sell too many stickers for a certain lot, where will the overflow cars go? Each of the other lots nearby is packed at midnight, too.

2. The management company or the towing company is paying lip service, nothing more, to towing those without the proper credentials. When I called Henry's, I was told that looking for non-decaled cars was the thrust of their operation; why, then, has parking gotten harder, not easier?

So here I sit, waiting for my wife to disrupt her day to pick me up to take me to this towing company.

This has been the only place we've ever lived since Linds and I moved in together. With one exception, we've paid our rent on time every month; to our knowledge, we've never caused so much as a complaint from our neighbors.

Yet we're continually treated with indifference. Borrowing a phrase from my work blog, we're simply viewed as revenue supply.

Do yourself a favor. Go look elsewhere for an apartment.

Water, water everywhere

2008-02-25T00:07:00.002-05:00

Quick, name a state whose territory includes land that doesn't touch another part of the state.

Michigan, right? Of course, with the lower portion and the smaller, Upper Peninsula. Hawaii? Duh. Washington state? There's a tiny sliver of land called Point Roberts that is south of the 49th parallel - in the United States - accessible only by entering Canada or crossing a body of water. Same thing with the Northwest Angle in Minnesota.

How about Virginia? The main body of the Commonwealth is separated from the Eastern Shore by the Chesapeake Bay; the only way the two connect is via the Chesapeake Bay Bridge-Tunnel, a 16-mile combination of bridges and tunnels that allow for both vehicle traffic and ocean-going vessels.

I like to think that we in Northern Virginia are affected by the waters around us as well. The Potomac serves as a natural boundary between D.C. and the Commonwealth and is the primary natural feature of the area.

But when I make the trip to Hampton Roads, as I did this weekend, I'm reminded that I'm woefully wrong.

One of the state's two wrestling tournaments was in town, which brought me there as well. I went straight to the site on Friday; the Magellan took me over the Monitor-Merrimac Memorial Bridge-Tunnel, a smaller version of the CBBT. The longer way - one I had taken in years past - took me over the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel. (You'll see that Wikipedia's list of bridge-tunnels mentions those three as the only bridge-tunnel combinations in the U.S. and nearly half of the worldwide total.)

Coming back from the site, I sat through miserable traffic in the downtown tunnel, which connects Norfolk to Portsmouth, where my hotel was.

Trying to get anywhere in that region seems to involve some major crossing of water. On Saturday, I went off the beaten path to Wood Chicks BBQ - well worth the trip, by the way - and stumbled upon a crossing over the Elizabeth River. Even on a mostly quiet two-lane road, there was a drawbridge over the river to allow for traffic.

When I was in the hotel, I had a great view from the 15th floor. Outside of my window was a look up the Elizabeth River and Norfolk and Portsmouth; at the elevator I took in a gorgeous view down the river. And just outside were a couple of paddleboats to ferry passengers between the two sides.

We have dinner boats in Alexandria, but nothing like that.

Struck in traffic at the Downtown Tunnel, I was struck by something the two areas shared: challenging traffic at times (though I'm sure they'd be willing to concede that our traffic is far worse) caused by too much water and not enough ways to cross it.

Unlike D.C., it's more understandable in Hampton Roads.

RIP, Jeff Carlton

2008-02-21T16:29:00.003-05:00

I had some minor chores to do on my day off - get my haircut, get my car's oil changed. I went to Wal-Mart to accomplish the latter and sat in the waiting area, biding time by checking SJ.com on my phone.

That's where I learned that Jeff Carlton, a sportswriter at the Greensboro News & Record, passed away this morning due to complications from malignant brain tumors.

I was not a close friend of Jeff's; we had met a few times through mutual friends, but no more. Still, I was deeply saddened for my friend's loss and saddened at the memory of one fun weekend several years ago.

My post from SJ:

Five years or so ago, I had one of the most fun weekends of my life with Jeff.

He was up our way to celebrate at a bachelor party for a friend of ours, former BA writer Lacy Lusk. The weekend was a baseball road trip.

We had several others join us for a Saturday afternoon game at Camden Yards for O's-Blue Jays. My uncle was kind enough to hook us up excellent seats - two sections to the right of being directly behind home plate, about 10 rows up. I caught a foul ball that game.
Most of the group headed back to DC after the O's games; Lacy, Jeff and I were left to head north to Aberdeen; I believe they played Auburn that night. We waited out a rain delay, somehow got great seats again (front row down the 3B line) and chuckled at the reliever throwing an 86 mph 'heater' with no movement. But what I remember most was us reading - and laughing our asses off - at the free weekly we had picked up, particularly the crime log. There was a long story about some dispute between area residents that - forgive me for not remembering the details - involved a slab of meat at the center of the dispute with some guy getting threatened with a tire iron. Funny enough, no? It gets better.

Whoever the reporter was took the police report as gospel, apparently. One of the quotes from an eyewitness was something like, "That's the man! That's the man from 15 Evergreen Street" or wherever the incident took place. Because someone in their excitement would yell out the exact address... we howled over that all night.

We stayed at some crappy motel and got up early the next morning for the drive to Reading, Pa. to see the R-Phils and Akron. We had crappy left-field tickets this time, made only more tolerable by the fact that I (not so much Jeff and Lacy) was steps from the Yuengling stand, to which I made several trips. We got bored with the seats and decided to check out the rest of the place.

Eventually, we found ourselves in right field at the stadium pavilion, which was set up for a party for folks from a local grocery store chain. Except no one was manning the front entrance. So we snuck in and settled down at one of the picnic tables, which had a small TV at one end. We tuned in the big-league Phillies while keeping track of the game we were at. I had just enough beer in me to say screw it, so I took off my shoes and wandered over to the small pool. I stuck my feet in, chatted up one of the moms watching her kids and enjoyed the day. That was one hell of a way to end a weekend.

I hadn't really kept in touch with Jeff, especially after Lacy moved on to bigger things. But I was deeply saddened to check in here this afternoon and find the news of this thread.

RIP, Jeff, and I hope you enjoyed that weekend as much as I did.

I re-post it to give the world a glimpse of what was lost this morning.

Birthday money, well spent

2008-02-13T00:59:00.003-05:00

Last Thursday, I had the day off, since I was working on Saturday. So I put the time to good use, spending an hour or so at our nearby Washington Golf Center.

I had plenty of birthday money; most of it was earmarked specifically for golf equipment. But it wasn't just about prettying up the bag - I had actual needs.

Last summer in Oregon, the head to my three-wood snapped off. Snapped may be a little too violent a description; after one tee shot, I noticed the head was a little wobbly. I took a look at it and the next thing I knew, the head was in one hand, the shaft in the other.

Less of a need was a sand wedge. I've never played a round with one, chipping lightly with a pitching wedge. My wife - clearly the most talented golfer of the family - said a sand wedge was a great idea.

I had done the requisite research, reviewing Golf Digest's 2008 equipment rankings. It was helpful to a degree - like reading that Titleist irons/wedges might be too complicated for a less-skilled golfer (which I definitely am) and reaffirming my knowledge that Cleveland makes a pretty damn good set of irons.

Based on those prices, I'd come home with both clubs and really make a concerted effort to get better this year. No, really.

But that wasn't going to be the only test. I was going to give each club a try, even just a half-swing to see what felt most comfortable.

So with some knowledge and, perhaps more importantly, an open mind, I trekked up I-395 to Washington Golf. It was a quiet Thursday afternoon; no more than, say, seven customers in the massive store.

I perused all of the equipment displays: Nike, Taylor Made, Callaway, Ping, Cobra, Nicklaus and Cleveland, in order. Cleveland was the furthest away, so that's why it was last.

While there, though, something caught my eye: A CG4 sand wedge, sitting kind of off to the side. It felt good in my hands, not perfect, but certainly among the better ones I'd tried to that point. Then I saw the price.

Forty bucks.

Huh? I was expecting to spend triple that amount. Two different salesfolks assured me that there honestly wasn't anything wrong with it; most likely, it was part of a set that was left behind for one reason or another.

OK. Sold.

I took it up front and asked them to hold on to it for me. I wasn't certain I could trust the other six people not snatch it up first.

I walked back to the displays with a new sense of purpose. The savings from that club would allow me to put all of my birthday money toward three clubs.

Now it was onto the 3-wood, where my selection was more limited. I took brief looks at Ping's Rapture and Taylor Made's Burner, but both cost a lot more than I was willing to spend. Instead, I found myself coming back to the Big Bertha, which had the right combination of price and feel.

I had expected to be done by now. But there was more shopping to do - a club I don't much need but would love to have in the bag anyway.

Again I went through each of the displays (the first time around, I had no intention of looking for a third club). And again, the best came last: The club that felt best in my hands also had the bonus of being $20 cheaper than its competitors. So, with a wide grin, I picked out a Cleveland HiBore XLS 3-iron hybrid.

I took that and the Big Bertha to their indoor driving range and hit a few balls. My suspicions were confirmed: The clubs felt awesome. (Though I did feel a bit weirded out, since someone outside of family was watching me hit a golf ball. He assured me that I was nowhere near the worst he's seen, like the person who hit their head with the club on the backswing. Then I felt better.)

The two Clevelands are waiting for their spot in the bag, which is buried in our utility closet. The Big Bertha is due to arrive any day now; the guy who helped me said that since my swing speed wasn't terribly fast, I didn't need a flex shaft. But they were out of the normal clubs and needed to get one from their store in Chantilly. It should arrive any day now.

That took care of my birthday money - all with $20 to spare. Sadly, I spent the last $20 on this disappointment.

We're still a long way off from golf season. It's 29 degrees at the moment after an unexpected ice storm this afternoon; our highways were an absolute mess. My poor wife left the office around 8:15 and didn't get home until close to 9:00 - that's rush-hour traffic two hours after you expect rush hour to be over with.

Weather issues aside, I can't wait to get out to the course.

I've never been so excited for golf season.

The GOP apparently doesn't need my vote

2008-02-09T00:29:00.000-05:00

I'm a moderate. If that's a dirty word to some, fine. Call me a centrist then.

I told my wife a few days I could not, in good conscience, vote for Sen. Hillary Clinton - if she is the Democratic nominee - in the general election. With Clinton, the first word that pops into mind: divisive. At least Sen. Barack Obama, the first word that comes into my mind is "potential" - despite the fact that many of us are still waiting for Obama's first significant legislative accomplishment.

Sen. John McCain is a possibility as well. I won't really know until I can put McCain, the presumptive Republican nominee, up against one of the Democratic opponents and compare them side by side.

That qualifies me, I suppose, as a swing voter.

Earlier in the week, I read the accounts of the CPAC meeting in the city. That was where Mitt Romney abondoned his presidential quest to the cries of his supporters. At that same meeting, McCain's reception was rather hostile.

Really, it's been that way for some time. The bloviation from the right-wing pundits - Rush and his ilk - complain that McCain isn't conservative enough. Romney was a better option; he was, they said, a conservative's conservative.

That got me wondering: I presume that, most generally speaking, I'm more liberal than McCain. I can only surmise I would be treated with such disdain by the rest of his party. My swing vote, it seems, is of no importance in their eyes. If they booed McCain, as some did, it's not hard to guess I'd have not been let in the building.

From an outsider's perspective, the whining about McCain seems petty and childish.

"You give us a candidate that follows our views to the 'T'!" they seem to say. Barring that, an independent candidate may not be out of the question.

It's all laughable, really. If that faction of the GOP goes its own way, it sinks McCain's candidacy - who wouldn't stand a chance behind a unified Democratic party - while its own candidate is likely never taken seriously by folks closer to the middle.

This CPAC gathering received Vice President Dick Chaney warmly. Reports from there indicated that he got a robust ovation. Chaney and President Bush are hard-core conservatives; that much is clear.

They've run the country for a full seven years now. And as his presidency winds down, there are an awful lot of people dissatisfied with the job he's doing. An ill-conceived, ill-deceived war in Iraq; continued government shenanigans in areas like torture and homeland security; ongoing unnecessary secrecy within the top levels of government.

They've run the country for a full seven years now, and this is where we find ourselves. The CPAC booers want more of the same and will complain until they get it; most of the rest of the country wants something different.

McCain is something different. That he dares step away from the party line at times diminishes him in some eyes, which is unfortunate.

The gap between left and right has widened for much of the decade. At last, McCain isn't a candidate that more resembles me and my political stances than Bush ever has. For as much as he preached about working together and reaching across the aisle - I was at Bush's second inauguration, I heard him say it with my own ears - he never followed through. A promise left by the wayside.

Finally, there's someone closer to what I believe; yet a sizeable chunk of the GOP believes him unfit.

I'm tired of being marginalized by the louder factions of the GOP. They castigate McCain for being too liberal; to me, that says someone with beliefs such as myself has no real place in their party. Don't folks like me determine elections?

The Democrats don't seem to have this problem. Aside from the sniping between candidates, it certainly seems as if Clinton's supporters will take up for Obama and vice versa when crunch time arrives. My gut feeling is that they'd, you know, appreciate my vote.

The GOP, meanwhile, has a few months to get its house together. If the loud, far-right faction continues its dissention, it risks sinking any sort of hope for getting a Republican in the Oval Office.

I may yet vote for McCain in the general election if he proves himself as the best candidate. At this point, I would do so with a disgust for how he's been treated by those who are supposed to be on his side.

The people have spoken; by the GOP's rules, McCain has the most delegates. Why is the will of the people not good enough? Why is McCain not good enough?

The GOP needs me more than I need it.

Your clock is ticking.

Getting in on the top floor?

2008-02-06T23:49:00.000-05:00

I've put a lot of effort into improving my page design skills. I used to do nothing but your standard front page - a normal-looking centerpiece with elements surrounding it - but over the past six months or so, I've tried to improve the look of my centerpieces. A big photo, a headline and a story just weren't cutting it for me.

As you can see, I've tried to play with photos and text a little more. The Super Bowl page was the most ambitious project yet; it took me the better part of a full week to get it all done.

But lately, I've begun to wonder: Does any of it matter?

Maybe it's merely a case of feelings of inadequacy. Take a look at some of the work exhibited over at Sports Designers. You'll see my Big Cactus layout was there, along with stuff from lots of other folks.

I can easily admit that the other work on the page is better (in some cases, considerably better) than mine. Particularly of note is the work done by the folks at the Arizona Republic. Take note of the quote from Luke Knox:

These daily Super Bowl sections are being designed by me, Joey Kirk and Ayrel Clark, with direction from Bill Pliske.

That's three people with help from a fourth. Not only is it 3.5 people, but 3.5 people that are, presumably, talented and trained in the art of graphic design. Otherwise they probably wouldn't be in the position they are.

Me? I've got no formal training, only 10 years of seeing things I liked and seeing things I didn't. And I pushed away a week's worth of work, diminishing any writing assignments or postponing long-term projects, all to do two pages.

Maybe it's more than feelings of inadequacy. Maybe it's a feeling like none of it really does matter.

If you've paid any attention to the media industry, you've seen that newspapers as a whole are in the toilet: predictions of doom (like here), layoffs and cutbacks galore (like here, here and here, just in the past week) and a falling reputation among the beancounters (stock charts for publishing's big boys like Belo, Gannett, McClatchy, N.Y. Times Co., Scripps, Tribune and Washington Post Co.).

And none of these skills that I'm trying to develop is very portable. The design of a static newspaper page doesn't really equate to the design of a dynamic webpage - not to mention learning entirely new programs like Flash and DreamWeaver.

Is it all worth it? I don't know. In my happiest of dreams, I like to think I'm bettering myself as a newspaperman - the ultimate compliment for someone who could do it all.

Maybe in a few years it won't much matter.

Plaintiff: F--k your rights

2008-02-01T10:24:00.000-05:00

People never fail to amaze.

From the Washington Post yesterday: James Bogden (who happens to be a public health educator and anti-smoking advocate) has filed suit against four local restaurants - one of which appears to the right - to force the restaurants to go smoke-free. He claims that after suffering a mild heart attack, he cannot be anywhere near second-hand smoke but should not be limited to which restaurants he can patronize. He believes he is protected by the Americans With Disabilities Act.

Cripes.

If I'm understanding this correctly - and I believe I am - the rights of one trumps the rights of many. If I'm a smoker (and I'm not), then my right to smoke should be taken away because this guy says so? Because of his heart condition, my right to smoke is simply cast aside?

How on earth does this make sense?

Look, I'm sorry the guy had a heart attack; I don't wish ill health on anyone. I'm glad to see he's fully recovered and has continued to live and succeed in life. But I fail to see how his condition should impact me.

For a moment, imagine he wins. Clyde's goes smoke-free. Maybe Clyde's loses a big chunk of its business and, after some time, is forced to close. If I want to enjoy one of my favorite hangout spots, I'm now driving to Tysons Corner or into the city.

Where, then, is my recourse? Can I litigate against this man for essentially closing one of my favorite restaurants as well?

Things happen in life, not all of them good ones. Sometimes we get a really raw deal. We adjust and we move on.

It seems like such a simple concept.

And hiding behind the ADA is shameful. The law was set up for people whose lives have been impacted by a real, life-changing disability, not a mild heart attack. It's a good law and shouldn't be subjected to such perversion.

Let's call this what it is: One person's attempt to advance his personal ideology; as he steps forward, he tramples others' rights in the process.

Have you no shame, Mr. Bogden? Have you no consideration for how others may want to run their lives? Or is your life the only one that matters?

Hypothetical questions, of course. The answers are clear enough already.

It's that damned old rodeo

2008-01-27T00:09:00.000-05:00

I went to a rodeo for the first time on Saturday night. My wife was out of town - staff retreat for her and the other Enzi staffers on the Eastern Shore - so I had to find a way to piss away a Saturday night.

She's gotten me in the habit of watching PBR on Sunday nights; we watch in hi-def until the hour gets too late and we're forced to retreat to the bedroom. After weeks of watching this, it begins to pique my interest.

So I'm in the office late on Friday - that's what we do, after all - and one of the photographers begins talking about this rodeo event the next day. I figure it's too late to get media credentials, so I go ahead and just buy a ticket.

It would be a stretch to say it's the best $30 I've spent. But certainly among the best $30 I've spent in the past year.

The run-up to the event itself was, pound for pound, better than NASCAR. I happened to sit next to four independent rotating lights that supplied the atmosphere for the pre-game show (so to speak). After they stopped, we were treated to an invocation and the National Anthem; too often, the former in NASCAR seems rushed and drivers are vaguely aware of it. On Saturday, it felt natural, far more so than anything I had felt at a NASCAR race.

Then various people were introduced by the emcee: the bullfighters (who, by the way, earn every freaking bit of their pay), the cowboys, the rodeo clown - a largely cermonial role that banters with the arena announcers - and the in-house color guy, a former PBR champion.

All under the cover of darkness, save for a lone spotlight pointing on these guys.

The event itself was very, very cool. The riders went off in sections, as they called them, and each was fascinating to watch. Often enough, TV doesn't do justice to what you see in person; in this case, TV had done an adequate job preparing me. It's a violent sport, to be sure.

Eight seconds goes by in a flash. I've learned that six minutes really isn't a long time unless you're on a wrestling mat; then it takes forever. The eight seconds in PBR - the difference between a scoring ride and a non-scoring one - is an eternity when you're on the back of a pissed off bull.

In one round, we saw a competitor injured when he was thrown for a loop (figuartively and literally); in an early round, we saw the bullfighters have to get in and push a bull away from a cowboy laying prone on the ground.

Watching these guys go out, time after time, was amazing. In wrestling (the non-professional kind), you have a limited chance of getting hurt; most moves are conducted low to the ground and throws aren't usually seen, even in the college ranks. But these cowboys, damn...

Imagine getting tossed off a 1,200-pound bull when you're five feet in the air.

No, thank you.

In all, it was a great night. I only wish my wife would have been there with me... oh well, she'll be home tomorrow.

At which time I'll relegate her with all my tales of a night at the rodeo.

Valium for Hank?

2008-01-26T00:52:00.001-05:00

Hank's my buddy. I'm certain that's been made quite clear over the posts here.

We have a nightly ritual now. I tuck my wife in bed and head onto the computer.

Hank accompanies me.

Always.

He comes in here and, if I'm lucky, gets distracted by his food and realizes he's perennially hungry. Like this very moment, actually.

But more likely, he wanders around wondering where his attention is. Tonight, it's more understandable; I spent the evening in the office doing what we do. So I wasn't home. Even when I am home (most nights), I'll be sitting on the recliner. At least half the time, Hank is sitting on one armrest or the other.

Just earlier tonight - while updating the wine blog with a tangential observation - Hank meandered around the computer room, calling attention to himself.

"Meow. Meow. Meow. Meeoww? Meow. Meow. Meow. Meowwwww."

When he gets desperate - which is quite often - he leans on the chair to stand tall and uses his free front paw to tap me on the shoulder. He's done this with Lindsay as well.

I keep asking if it's time for bed and all I get back is a blank stare.

So he's in here raising hell and Grace - usually sound asleep by now - is up and about as well. When I got home, she was sitting in a corner in the bathroom, a place I've never seen her. While taking out my contacts, she decided it would be cool to grab a drink from the recently-used tub.

This despite the fact that her water bowl is nearly overflowing.

I guess I just don't get cats.

More photos

2008-01-17T23:18:00.000-05:00

Before you read this, read the post below or simply click this link.

More photos from Thursday:

The six Honor Guard members that carried the casket to its burial place.

The iconic rows of headstones that comprise Arlington National Cemetery.

Looking back to D one last time.

A D.C. event I would have preferred not to attend

2008-01-17T22:35:00.000-05:00

As I've pointed out here, being in Washington and having a wife that works in the Senate affords me some interesting opportunities.

Thursday was not one of them.

One of Lindsay's former co-workers - D'Arcy Grisier, Colonel "D" as many knew him - was laid to rest at Arlington National Cemetery. D had spent most of his life as a member of the United States Marine Corps; he was diagnosed with cancer and beat it, only to have it return and force his retirement. He joined the office of Sen. John Ensign (R-Nev.), where he worked with my wife.

I had met D a few times; what a cool, cool guy. He was unafraid to help a small-fry sportswriter who had the grandiose dream of writing about the biggest passenger plane on the planet. He's not credited in the story, but it was contact with him that brought about the reaction from one of Ensign's staff members, John Lopez, and made the story what it was.

So it was on Thursday that we came to celebrate D's life one final time.

He actually passed away on Nov. 2, 2007; his viewing was shortly thereafter, though his burial took more than two months. Not that it made it any easier.

Just as Thursday's snow was starting, I made the drive from our apartment to Arlington. As instructed, I informed the parking guide that I was there for a funeral; he directed me to the correct road.

Simply driving around was a surreal experience. My car has been some cool places - the infield at Richmond International Raceway, for example - but never any place like this. I have been, and I can't help but come away in awe each time.

I arrived at the Old Post Chapel well within the range that we had been told to arrive. I waited for my wife out front; yet when we walked in, nearly every pew was at capacity. We were two of many to stand throughout the service.

Upon walking in, a young Honor Guard member named Hamilton handed us a business card, or so it seemed. It was a caricature of D, his birthday and the day he died.

But what dominated the card was one of his favorite sayings, one that was frequently visible at the viewing as well: My, my, how the time flies...

I cannot look at the phrase now without choking up, a reminder of how D's 53 years did not seem nearly enough.

There were three eulogies. The first was a retired general who had worked with D; the second was his best friend since college; the final was D's father, whose voice raised and lowered with seemingly every phrase.

"You honor D with your presence," he said, and I like to think that we did. Nearly all of my adopted friends from the Ensign office were there: Scott, the former chief of staff; Jack, the former PR guy now in Vegas; Aaron, now a good cigar buddy; and Valerie, who remains good friends. Sen. Ensign was there as well; he got to sit with the family in the front.

At the end of the eulogies, two Marines entered from the back and pushed the casket out to the caisson not differently than how they brought the casket in from the hearse.

We filed out of the chapel, row by row. We were among the last.

Outside we were greeted by the sight of a Marine honor guard; my sudden realization - that I had never seen so many soldiers in one place at one time in my life - seemed absurd. They stood at attention, ignoring the now-heavy snow, even as it piled up on the brims of their hats.

We briefly discussed taking a car; Jack, Scott and Lindsay were to ride with me. Then we discovered a bus, replete with a representative from the Marine Corps, was ready to take Ensign's staff to the graveside service. Well, we were once staff, so that was close enough. We hopped on the bus.

Our driver tried to take a back road, but wound up waiting for the procession that we were actually a part of. We were the last to arrive.

Lindsay and I were near the back of the bus, so it wasn't surprising that we were among the last people to the graveside service. We were still several hundred feet away when we heard the traditional gun salute and the playing of Taps.

The snow was still heavy as we walked - past all of the parked cars clogging the narrow roads, underneath an archway that had an inspirational saying for all of armed forces. Then it was a right-hand turn through an opening between the rows of buried heroes.

We made it just in time to see the honor guard and band leaving. Their precision struck me; I compared it to seeing a NASCAR race - no matter how many times you've seen it on TV, seeing it in person brings it to a different level. The guard commander ordered his unit out through a choreographed movement to the front of the group.

The guard walked parallel to the path we had taken after the right turn (to the right of the photo at the top). Trailing the group was a barrel-chested officer who walked alone, several feet behind the band, which marched to a "left, left, left-right-left" beat on the old-style snare drum. At each drumstrike, the group's march was perfectly in alignment.

We stood around, unsure if the service had been completed; we knew for sure when several people began turning around and heading the way we had just come from.

The snow cast an eerie pall on the cemetery. Small trees were barely visible in the distance; the clouds were low and, despite the short distance to Reagan National Airport, commercial aircraft was occasionally heard but never seen. The snow provided a blanket, giving the whole cemetery a sense of calmness and serenity.

We milled around to say hello to people from the office. I got to say hello to John Lopez and other folks I hadn't seen. Sen. Ensign came through as well, and I was able to say hello to him too.

From there, we made our way back to the bus, which had moved strategically closer than it had been when it dropped us off. We were left to make sense of what had happened, thinking that our co-worker and friend was now one for the ages; that D was now one of the thousands of heroes that Arlington pays tribute to.

Me? I couldn't help but once again pray for the sacrifice that all there, living and dead, had given.

I discovered my one hope was this: that long after you and I had left this earth, that Arlington - now with D - would stand as a reminder of the courage and heroism of our country's bravest.

It's official: Sony, you suck

2008-01-11T00:27:00.000-05:00

If you've read this blog for any length of time, you know my feelings on PlayStation3. A quick recap if you haven't been paying attention: hopeful, then disappointed, then downright angry.

Our TV, a Sony Bravia, has also worked out fine so far, so that tempered my anger a bit.

Now, I'm back to full-on rage.

Several Woot-offs ago, I bought myself a handy little Sony MP3 player. I downloaded basically every song I liked off of every CD I have; I bought a few more as well. I won't list them here, because the embarrassment factor is quite high, particularly in one case. (And no, it's not "Justify My Love," which I raved about on a long-ago video wall.)

For Christmas, my lovely wife bought me a new MP3 player with a considerably larger capacity. I haven't had a whole lot of time to get it all set up, but made a point to do so tonight.

Except there's one little problem. The new Sandisk plays MP3s.

The old Sony never did.

Instead, all the music was saved as an .oma file, which Sony refers to as ATRAC.

A little Googling turns up that ATRAC and the related .oma files are Sony proprietary. Direct conversions to MP3 - hell, even .wav files - are well nigh impossible.

I'm all about building a better mousetrap. But taking a now commonplace activity - ripping and burning MP3s for personal use - and making it so that you're stuck with one brand of devices is utter bullshit. Just like the still exorbitant price for a PS3.

Perhaps their own special format makes Sony money; good for them. But to engender anger among potential consumers seems like a rather unsafe business practice.

Sony's arrogance and stupidity will do that company in.

I, for one, am happy to participate in the process.

If I can possibly help it, Sony will not see another dime from me.

One-stop shopping

2008-01-07T00:35:00.001-05:00

After a few failed attempts to meet up with my parents over the holiday, my wife and I finally made it earlier today - just in time to celebrate Mom's birthday.

As usual, we met in Gettysburg, Pa., a 90-minute drive for us. We head north on I-395 - almost into D.C. - but exit at the last minute onto the George Washington Parkway. We take the GW north to the Beltway, then onto I-270 north, then US-15 north from Frederick, Md. into Gettysburg. I explain the routing to get to the main point of the story.

We always pass a most unusual building on 15, not far from Thurmont, Md.

It sits just off the highway in a largely agricultural area. The building is very simple, not different from any sort of produce-for-sale shacks you'd see in a similar farming area.

What's inside the building makes it unique.

There are three signs on the outside. At the far left, it says "Wine, Beer & Liquor" - not surprising in Maryland, which has far more liberal alcohol laws than either Pennsylvania or Virginia. In the middle part of the building, the sign reads, "Gateway Market"; in smaller letters underneath, it says "Candyland."

On the right side of the building there's a third sign. Bet you didn't see this one coming. The sign reads:

"Church of Christ"

One stop for either spiritual liberation or spiritual libation.

Maybe both.

Paging Nelson Muntz; Nelson Muntz to the white courtesy phone, please

2008-01-05T13:06:00.000-05:00

My lovely wife and I were completing some Saturday morning errand running, which included breakfast at IHOP (hey, I wasn't turning down the all-you-can-eat pancake deal) and a trip to the store. See, Safeway failed to deliver 12 or so items that we requested, forcing us to go to the store to pick up said items, which kind of defeats the whole purpose of having groceries delivered.

But I digress...

On the way from IHOP to Harris Teeter - hell no, we weren't going to Safeway! - we happened upon a normal-looking van, save for all of the lettering on the back window.

"Look honey," my good conservative wife said. "It's one of the Ron Paul crazies!"

"Should we make them feel good?" I asked.

"Sure," came the reply. So I tooted a few times as we whizzed by in the passing lane.

A few seconds later, I yelled, "Ha ha! I'm voting for Romney!" The retort wasn't all it could've been, however; it was cold and we had our windows up, meaning the comment sort of lost its effectiveness outside of the Explorer.

Still, it amused us. And we like to laugh, so the moment became an instant classic.

And for the record, I am not committed to any candidate.

Winter desolation

2008-01-01T01:18:00.000-05:00

Happy New Year!

Barely an hour old in these parts, 2008 has arrived. We had originally planned on welcoming the new year with friends; but two bouts with the flu over the past few days eliminated that possibility.

My wife had a miserable day yesterday; just as I had on Friday. She thought she might rally for an early dinner at Clyde's, but that didn't happen. Instead, I was dispatched to pick up a movie or two and bring dinner home, which I was happy to do.

After stopping at Blockbuster, I drove the rest of the two blocks to Clyde's so we could have our dinner and eat it too, so to speak. Clyde's still has its elegant Christmas lights up, simple white strands that drop off the main wire like icicles.

Inside, everyone was in a joyous mood. The new year was nearly upon us. As I walked out, I was happy to hold the door for an older woman, who wished me a happy new year. Walking to my car, I caught a final glimpse of the beautiful lights, never noticing that I was probably underdressed for how chilly it was.

Then a thought popped into my head: How much longer would the lights be up?

Certainly not much longer. At the time, there were about 30 hours left in the holiday season; as I write this, it's less than 23.

What then?

Two and a half more months of winter, with the accompanying lower temperatures and higher snow amounts. All without the festiveness of the holiday season.

The drudgery of winter, a sort of desolation. That's how it feels now, anyway, when spring seems so far off.

It'll get better. The wrestling season will move on; before long, it'll be February and I'll be tied up for four straight Saturdays, culminating in trips to Chesapeake and Salem. Once that's over, baseball begins and spring will be at hand.

Finally.

How far away it all seems.

Two footballs, one day

2007-12-30T23:41:00.000-05:00

I didn't have to be to FedEx quite as early today; in a late switch because of the playoff implications, the game was moved from 1 to 4:30. (Those of you outside of EST may adjust accordingly.)

I left around 1 and, as usual, flipped on the Beeb. I was fortunate to catch the final few moments of the Manchester City-Liverpool game over in the Premier League.

Or, if the announcers were to believed, I wasn't so fortunate.

And that's part of the reason I love it: What wonderful use of language.

Just after the final whistle of the 0-0 tie, one announcer said: "It was a poor example of Premiership football."

Well, it is Britain, so the actual result was "nil-nil," and the announcer labeled that result as "miserable."

I'll have to take their word for it. Liverpool is fourth in the standings, err, table with 37 points (a 10-2-7 record) while Man. City is fifth with 36 points (10-4-6). A draw doesn't seem too implausible.

But the best language was reserved for the postgame report. The BBC recapped the league's other match of the day, Blackburn Rovers' 2-1 win over hapless Derby County.

Derby is in dead last with seven points and a 1-15-4 mark. Fulham, in second-to-last place, has 15 points and one more win. Needless to say, Derby seems to be a lock to be relegated at the end of the season (a concept that, by the way, is woefully underutilized here in the States. Back to AAA with you, Devil Rays!).

The announcer's comment: Derby is eight points "adrift of safety."

Excellent. In no way, shape or form would those words be heard at the game I was heading to, unless Roy Williams missed a tackle (which was still far more likely than that term being used).

My game was exciting for its own reasons and I'm sure most of you know them.

I can't, however, say I was as thrilled as some when, while walking down the main internal corridor, I had to make way for a limo carrying someone I vaguely knew.

It rolled by and I caught up by the time the driver was able to open the door (rough life, huh?).

"That's Ryan Seacrest!" some young woman whispered excitedly. As if it's not enough that we had TomKat at the season opener last year...

I was considerably more excited to get to the pressbox and see people I actually cared about. Like the folks I see each Wednesday and at home games. Oh, and Dan Reeves, too. Not sure why he was there, but I sent a text to Matt mentioning how interesting it was to see those two guys in a 30-minute span.

So the Redskins won and I'm in for another week. Saturday at Seattle, though I'll be watching from home.

Life goes on...

Post-travel notes

2007-12-28T17:56:00.001-05:00

I am happy to be writing this. For much of the day, I've been wandering around, absolutely miserable: general achiness, a feeling of weakness (like picking up anything over 20 pounds would've been impossible), tiredness, chills, all kinds of stuff.

But I got up a little while ago after a nap that lasted around three hours (and one of several I've taken today). This is the best I've felt all day; though it's not perfect, it's a heck of a lot better than the general sense of drudgery that has otherwise been the hallmark of the day.

Given that I've (sort of) recovered, I don't think it was any sort of bug or illness - just my body saying, 'Hey, asshole, your tank's on 'E' and it's about time you gave it a rest.' Yes sir, I am listening.

So I'm doing much better, thanks.

Thursday, travel day, was an interesting one. As we had on the way out, we took a prop plane from Redmond (near Bend) to Seattle. The flight is surprisingly short, considering it's like a 6-hour drive.

Once in Seattle, we didn't have a whole lot of time to mess around, maybe an hour or so. Plus they were trying to speed up our departure time, since snow was on its way. Indeed, though it was raining, it had changed over to snow by the time we took off. (I did mention to my wife that I was thoroughly disappointed we didn't see better weather in Seattle.)

We did have a treat for the flight back to D.C. As we did on the way out, we took a Boeing 737-800 (like this one); coming back, we were treated to a special paint job celebrating Alaska's 75th anniversary - a gorgeous retro livery.

The flight itself was pretty quiet. Because of the intermittent bad weather, we had some minor turbulence from time to time, but nothing too bad.

Just before we began our descent, the pilot announced that we'd be flying the River Visual into National (here's a wing view and pilot's view) unless air traffic control switched runways on us.

Well, they did, and now we'd be approaching from the south. Still, we had an interesting view as we banked over Mt. Vernon on the way up the river.

We landed without incident and were on our way...

-- I FEEL AS IF I should apologize for the disjointed nature of the post. My mind still isn't totally with it, but as I said, it is a great improvement.

Merry Christmas!

2007-12-25T10:09:00.000-05:00

Lift a glass to Santa for all of his hard work...

And here's hoping that he's rewarded you for being good girls and boys this year.

Merry Christmas.

Thursday's route

2007-12-19T00:32:00.001-05:00

My wife and I are flying west on Thursday. We'll be aboard Alaska 3 from Washington National bound for Seattle-Tacoma International, then a prop flight into Redmond, Ore.

The main leg heads northwest before flattening out along the Northern Plains.

Here are the points we'll pass along the way:

National Airport, Arlington, Va.
Bolivar, Md.
Seven Springs, Pa.
Cleveland
Middle Bass, Ohio
Carleton, Mich.
Berryville, Mich.
Coats Grove, Mich.
Grand Rapids, Mich.
Borculo, Mich.
Milwaukee
Wonewac, Wisc.
Nodine, Minn.
Kasota, Minn.
Redwood Falls, Minn.
*-Gettysburg, S.D.
*-Bowman, N.D.
Miles City, Mont.
Lewistown, Mont.
Mullan Pass, Idaho
Spokane, Wash.
Saint Andrews, Wash.
Maplecreek, Wash.
Telma, Wash.
Berne, Wash.
Startup, Wash.
Hilltop, Wash.
Sea-Tac International

A * indicates that those places are not on the projected flight plan. Instead, the projected flight plan didn't include any waypoints in either of the Dakotas, so I made my best guess.

We'll actually be over water for a while. Middle Bass, Ohio is actually an island in Lake Erie, part of a three-island chain. We'll also traverse Lake Michigan before hitting Milwaukee.

So there you have it. The actual flight plan looks like this, courtesy of flightaware.com:

BUFFR J518 IHD DJB J34 RWF MLS LWT MLP GLASR6

I know you were dying to know what the actual route was.

New blog!

2007-12-16T09:34:00.000-05:00

I just fired up a new blog for myself called Hustle's Wine Trials.

I explain the whys over there, but essentially it's a way for me to preserve what I think about the various wines that we try.

As you all know, I know nothing about wine, so I hope I don't come off as an expert. But I do want a reference point for when I'm looking for a good bottle - and there's no better reference point than past experience.

So off I go, doubling my presence in the blogosphere.

Holding pattern (UPDATED)

2007-12-13T23:34:00.000-05:00

Despite the header, this blog won't be about aviation. Sorry to disappoint you (and I know you're terribly disappointed).

But it is about travel.

My wife and I had a simple plan for the weekend: Hit two family reunions in the same trip. The first, on Saturday night, is for my dad's side of the family back in my hometown. The second, on Sunday afternoon, is for my mom's side of the family in suburban Baltimore. From there, we'd head home.

Ah, but the best-laid plans...

As the east-coast folks know, we're in for a doozy of a storm this weekend. Supposedly.

We can't see it coming, but the weather folks assure us it's not going to be a weekend for the beach. We can't see it coming because it hasn't formed yet.

If we believe the forecasters - and that's your choice if you want to or not - here's what we know: The swath of land between New York and Washington is going to get some combination of winter weather: snow, sleet, freezing rain. Rain and ice aren't out of the equation yet. It's supposed to start in D.C. late Saturday afternoon and move northward.

I talked with my dad this evening, who caught the weather on the 10 p.m. news and The Weather Channel. The local guys predicted a mix; TWC foretold of a foot of snow, maybe more.

Our original plan for tonight was to start packing and getting things ready. We did neither. We're still not sure if we should go. We'll make a final call sometime tomorrow morning, only hours from our planned departure time.

Let's do a quick comparison. My hometown is technically in the Scranton/Wilkes-Barre TV market, so we'll pit their three local stations' forecasts against what DC's four stations are saying. And we'll throw in Philly's four stations just for fun.

Scranton/Wilkes-Barre
WNEP (from video): Chief meteorolgist Tom Clark says, "We'll get some snow starting here later Saturday night. Anytime after 8 or 9 o'clock, it could start snowing. It'll get kind of windy, and I expect the storm to wind up, a secondary storm to form, and Sunday is going to be a stormy day. We'll have snow; there's a chance of sleet; high winds; drifting; could be a foot of snow in some areas of our viewing area by Sunday night."

WBRE/WYOU (from webcast): Meteorologist Josh Hodell says, "This weekend, we're looking at a potential Nor'easter that will bring us a wintry mix of snow and sleet ... [As the initial storm] moves northeast, a coastal storm will develop and also move up the eastern seaboard. The combination, for us, will mean wintry weather Saturday into Sunday. Looks like it will be a wintry mix of snow and sleet. Poor road conditions are possible Saturday night into Sunday. And in addition to the snow and sleet, it's going to get windy around here."

(link for the Nor'easter provided for you west-coast folks)

Illadelph
KYW: Saturday - Mostly cloudy. A chance of snow showers and sleet in the afternoon. Highs in the mid 30s. Northeast winds 5 to 10 mph. Chance of precipitation 40 percent. Saturday Night - Sleet and rain. Breezy with lows in the lower 30s. Northeast winds 10 to 20 mph. Chance of precipitation 90 percent. Sunday - Cloudy. Rain and likely in the morning...then a chance of rain and snow showers in the afternoon. Windy with highs around 40. Chance of precipitation 70 percent.

WPVI (from video): From meteorologist Cecily Tynan: "It'll be cold enough that we do expect it will begin as snow. And then what will happen is [one] low pressure will transfer its energy over to a coastal low. Where [the coastal] low develops will determine just how quickly we will change over to rain and how far up to the northwest it will go. At this point, it's too early to tell."

WCAU: Precious little detail over at NBC10's site; video wasn't very cooperative.

WTXF: Last webcast updated on Wednesday or very early Thursday. Come on guys!

DC
WRC: See WCAU. Gotta love those NBC O&O's...

WJLA: Saturday: A chance of rain, freezing rain and sleet. Cloudy, with a high near 37. Northeast wind around 10 mph. Chance of precipitation is 50%. New precipitation amounts between a tenth and quarter of an inch possible. Saturday Night: Periods of rain, freezing rain and sleet before 1am, then periods of snow, freezing rain and sleet. Low around 34. East wind between 11 and 16 mph. Chance of precipitation is 90%. New precipitation amounts between a tenth and quarter of an inch possible. Sunday: A chance of rain. Mostly cloudy and breezy, with a high near 40. Chance of precipitation is 50%. New precipitation amounts between a tenth and quarter of an inch possible.

WUSA (from webcast): Meteorologist Kim Martucci says, "It's going to be an everything-but-the-kitchen-sink-storm on Saturday and Sunday." Sums it up nicely.

WTTG: Nothing but a graphic over at Channel 5.

So there you have it. Somehow, we're going to get pummeled, or so they say.

In the meantime, we wait for better information and hope we make the right call...

-- UPDATE: It's 11:12 p.m. on Friday night and we're firmly planted at home.

In consultation with my dad this afternoon, we figured it would be best to skip out on Saturday night's family party.

A phone call from my uncle in Baltimore informed us that, because of the bad weather, Sunday's event would be postponed as well.

Luckily, we have a couple of local events to take in. It should be a fun weekend anyway, though I am disappointed I won't get to see my family.

Hank earns his keep

2007-12-12T00:37:00.000-05:00

Turns out he's good for something after all...

We keed, keed. We love Hank. But this was still a funny pic.

And considering what a wimpy cat he is, the remote didn't bother his sleep in the least.

Celebration, but not your typical holiday fare

2007-12-09T07:43:00.000-05:00

I rushed out of work early Friday afternoon - a story in and of itself of why I was rushing - to make the trip up I-395 to a place I'd never been but a place all of us know.

The Pentagon.

My cousin, currently based there, was having a promotion ceremony. He sent me instructions on where to park and where to find my escort. Great. I was ready to roll.

I've been to MCB Quantico several times. The process is always the same: you drive through the entry road off of Rt. 1, explain to the MP why you're visiting and go about your way. And don't lie to the MP, as he's got an M-16.

I figured the process would certainly be the same at the Pentagon; then I could get clear directions on where to find the row I needed to park in.

Except, in the area I parked, there were no guards or MPs or even Pentagon Police. So I was on my own - and had to get it right the first time. I circled around the parking area three times to figure out where I should be; during one of those trips, it did cross my mind that if I botched this, I could turn on a TV and see "Breaking News" on Channel 7: Suspicious Vehicle At Pentagon.

I finally figured out that the rows are numbered on the pavement; no signs, which I had been looking for. I was looking for Row 47 and somehow found myself on Row 57. Sweet, just a few more rows down.

I drive further down and get to Row 49, after which the numbers are covered over. There are two more rows left before a vehicle bridge (which runs to an inner, more secure lot) separates the lot. I figure, well, this is 47, right?

I parked at an inconspicous spot, got out and started hoofing to the Pentagon Conference Center - not within the main building but well within security, so as far as I'm concerned, I was in the Pentagon. As I'm walking, I look at the lot just past the vehicle bridge and what do I see? An officially marked Row 47. Balls.

But I'm already out of the car on walking, so I keep going, through the main security building, explaining why I'm there, going through a metal detector. I go into a second building nearby and meet up with my escort.

After quick introductions - the program is about to begin - I explained the situation. He seemed to think it was 50-50 that anyone would care. Well, I'd prefer my Explorer not be on the evening news so I hoof back out, move the car, hoof back in.

The ceremony has started, I'm told, and they've reserved a spot for me in the front right.

I really have no idea what I'm walking into. I knew my cousins, Scott and Tom Boushell, had gone off to the U.S. Air Force Academy in Colorado Springs after high school. And I knew they'd moved around quite a bit since then, and I had a pretty good idea they were successful. Tom was teaching, and Scott had put in time inside the mountain in Cheyenne, Wyo. And I knew that today, Scott was getting promoted.

I walked in during a speech by someone, who was explaining the Airman's Creed and how it related to my cousin. As I listened, I noticed that his uniform was richly decorated with six rows of those multi-colored pins. He must be somebody, I thought. Then I noticed his shoulder. One star was pinned there.

Good gravy, the guy's a general!

He gave a very moving speech that was pretty easy to understand. Occasionally there were some terms I didn't understand as he recounted Scott's career. He did it without notes, though he'd ask for assurances from Scott that he was right on some details - like Scott's time with the 400th Missile Squadron. The 400th, right?

He ended it by saying that he was aware the only barrier between Scott and his new rank was his flapping gums, so he wrapped up. Scott took the floor and I was one of the first people he thanked - he recounted how crazy the past few weeks had been, with Sean Taylor's death, two Redskins games in five days, high school football playoffs and getting ready for the winter season - and said he really appreciated that I shortened my day to be there.

I was honored that he did, but thanks weren't necessary. I wouldn't miss it!

He talked for a little while longer, then received his new pins (put on his uniform by his wife, Ellen, and my aunt and uncle) and his shoulder insignias, put on by Ellen's two sons, Armand and Rosario. Then he went into a longer thank-you speech, punctuated by many happy tears.

By then, he was officially a lieutenant colonel.

After the ceremony, we hung around and chatted with some of Scott's close friends and had a nice conversation with the man who gave the speech, Brigadier General Fadok. Apparently he was told of my parking problems!

When I left, I was still confused about the wider context of the promotion. Obviously, it's special to me and my family. But I really wasn't sure what it all meant.

I tracked down a frequent poster on SJ.com who is also in the military (Army, as it turns out) and sent him a quick note. So while he wasn't totally sure, the Army does have lieutenant colonels; he said among their top jobs is running a battalion (around 500 soldiers) or being the No. 2 person in a brigade (five-six battalions, 3,500-4,000 soldiers).

He left me with this line: "If your cousin's a lieutenant colonel at the Pentagon, yeah, he's made it."

So Scott's made it. We couldn't be more proud of him.

A night at the office

2007-12-06T18:34:00.000-05:00

I would have sworn sometime over the summer that I snapped a little photo with my cell phone from the press box at RFK. But I can't seem to find that post at the moment. I don't remember what I wrote, which generally hampers search engine functionality.

Anyway, as you may have guessed, I'm at work tonight, blessed with an internet connection because of the 8 p.m. kickoff. Otherwise, there's no way we'd get anything in the paper for tomorrow.

At any rate, now you have a shot from a different office.

Now, help me root for what we always root for: short games and good storylines.

XM131

2007-12-06T12:32:00.000-05:00

For a while, I had my XM lineup listed over on the right. I took it down to save space, as it changes so infrequently. At the moment, XMLed has replaced The Blend (until XMLed goes off air) and XM Chill has replaced The Move (until The Move comes back once all the Christmas channels finish).

I may be on the cusp of another switch.

The last dial is set to CNN, me being a news junkie and all. But listening to CNN has its own hazards: perpetual self-promotion (of course CNN is going to tell me it has the best political team on television; though it's not nearly as insufferable as ESPN); intermittent sensationalism ("Tell me what you're working on at the Breaking News desk"); and moments when CNN lives up to its billing as the anti-Fox News - and that's not a good thing. I once heard one anchor praise Sen. Barbara Boxer (D-Calif.) for being beligerent during a hearing.

"Good for her," he said.

No, not really. From what I could gather, she was out of turn and kept blathering on anyway. Such flauting of the rules should not be tolerated from anyone of either party. You want a free-for-all? Go run for a House seat.

With all of this mind - and after reading a well-done L.A. Times editorial blasting CNN for its GOP YouTube debate performance - I wondered if I wasn't wasting my time with the channel.

So I looked for an alternative. Just a few channels north, I rediscovered the BBC World Service.

All meat. Few commercials. In-depth reporting presented in a measured tone.

In short, journalism as it should be.

The old cliche tells us that we shouldn't worry about the price of tea in China. Yet the BBC had a compelling story about the skyrocketing cost of food in China, and how work-a-day Joes are struggling to keep up.

I tuned in smack in the middle of a story about some new movie that uses special effects to recreate a dramatic scene on the open ocean. The water effects took like 120 people seven months to do; once they left the office for the day, their PCs joined their collective computing might to help the larger mainframe keep chugging on the project. The water movement had to be designed then rendered; bubbles below the surface and whitewater all required their own simulation and rendering.

They had an interview with a regional UN spokesman over a controversy that UN peacekeepers would be engaging in battle. What a concept: They let him have his say without cutting him off in mid-sentence.

Fascinating stuff, particularly for a guy who fancies himself with a wider worldview.

I haven't made the switch just yet. But it's coming.

RIP, Leiby's

2007-12-02T23:14:00.000-05:00

One of my old haunts closed its doors for the last time today.

Leiby's was a family restaurant located in South Tamaqua, Pa.; very down home, very low key, but very popular too.

I went there a lot as a kid. I often got the same thing, too, a hot hamburger. A little plate of fries and a burger covered in gravy... good times. And yes, at least once I forgot to use my fork and wound up with gravy all over my fingers.

The desserts were what made the place, however. They had a rotation billboard of ice cream flavors (four sides) and that's where I tried cookies and cream. The pies were legendary, such that my uncle just outside of Baltimore would make a point to request a blueberry pie from the place. I never much cared for blueberries, but I sure did get hooked on that pie. (The pies were so popular for Christmas that a section of the restaurant would be closed off to accomodate all of the pies waiting for pick-up.)

And who could forget The Atomic? Leiby's most decadent dessert was, if I remember right, 32 ounces of ice cream with a couple of toppings thrown on for the hell of it.

I couldn't begin to tell you how many times I've gone there over the years. Even after moving south, we made it a point to go back every so often; my mom and dad would occasionally bring a pie from there as well.

But as of today, it's a thing of the past. Sad to hear, but I suppose time marches on...

A long, difficult day

2007-11-27T23:18:00.000-05:00

I usually spend Wednesdays at Redskin Park. I was up there all day today; perhaps you've heard why.

It was long, difficult and incredibly depressing.

By the time I arrived, well before noon, the number of media in attendance was double what it usually is. By the time I left around 4:30, it was probably triple. Instead of two reporters, the Washington Post had three reporters and two columnists. Instead of one reporter and one camera person, WRC had three reporters and who knows how many camera people. At one point, I stood in the foyer just inside the main entrance and counted 30 or so people.

Of the 30, I had seen six before in my life.

The media room was packed, such that moving around was difficult. People from Baltimore, Philly, ESPN, and network correspondents showed up.

Obviously, that's the least of anyone's worries. I mention that first because that's how the majority of the day was spent: standing around and waiting.

The Redskins' PR staff did what they could for us; this shouldn't be taken as a dig at them at all. But the simple fact of it was that not many of the players wanted to talk - a situation all of us can understand. Outside of the last press conference of the day with head coach Joe Gibbs and owner Daniel Snyder, we had little warning on when players would speak.

When they did speak, it was a slap back to reality of why all those people were there in the first place.

Reed Doughty, the safety who filled in while Sean Taylor recovered from a knee injury, broke down in tears moments before I arrived. Quarterback Jason Campbell did likewise, bowing his head and wiping away a tear. Guard Pete Kendall, an open and frank sort, spoke in hushed tones about how Taylor was one of the first people to greet him after his training-camp trade from the New York Jets.

It was hard to see this from them.

Six days ago, Campbell smiled a bit when I asked him about the Iron Bowl. Earlier in the season, after a win at home, I just happened to walk next to him when leaving the stadium. At FedEx Field, a tunnel leads from the bowels of the stadium to the players' parking lot; fans gather around the mouth of the tunnel to catch a glimpse of their favorite players.

We walked and I said, "So, when we get out of here, are all those people going to be cheering for you, or are they going to be cheering for me?"

He chuckled and said maybe I had some fans too. I slowed down to let him pass and he turned around to say something else with a wide smile on his face. I couldn't really hear him though - by then, the fans had recognized him and all started yelling, "Jason! Jason!"

It's hard to see good people be in so much pain.

I'll let the greater meaning of Taylor's death to people smarter than me.

I only know what I saw: the fallout of it all.

It was not a fun day to be at Redskin Park.

Two links to check out

2007-11-23T22:38:00.000-05:00

First off is something that helps everyone, which is always cool: FreeRice.com.

We get to play a game. The game gives you a word, you identify what it means from a list of four words. So yeah, it's a vocabulary builder.

But here's the best part: Every time you get a word right, the World Food Programme buys 10 grams of rice to distribute to people around the world who need it. According to a graphic on the WFP's Web site, the top 10 recipient countries for rice in 2007 were: Myanmar, Nepal, Cambodia, Phillipines, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Cote d'Ivory, India, Madagascar and Ecuador.

Ten grains isn't very much, but with all the people around the world playing the game, over 3 billion grains of rice have been purchased. WFP gets the money from advertisers at the bottom of the page, so be sure and click those links too.

I heard the idea on WTOP, our all news station, and thought it would be worth passing on to all three of my blog readers!

-- AND, EVEN MORE RANDOMLY: My pal Keith got me to sign up for Facebook, and I quickly gathered a list of friends over there. It's a pretty cool place, actually; I never thought I'd get into that sort of thing.

Anyway, while searching through groups, I came across this. Brace yourself.

Hunsickers, Unite!

As I wrote over there: Ain't the Internets great?

The combination to a safe? Or just our way home?

2007-11-21T23:50:00.000-05:00

Just heard a stat on Nightline that several million Americans traveled 50 miles or more to reach their Thanksgiving destination. I immediately put my hand up.

I cussed at, gestured at and got pissed off by what seemed to be the remainder of the American population, which all seemed headed from Alexandria, Va. to Lehighton, Pa. (via Ashburn, Va.), just like I was.

Virtually every road, at some point, was a mess. Traffic bogged down 75 percent of the trip from Northern Virginia to past Harrisburg, Pa. The rest of the trip was hampered by fog that worsened as we got closer to Lehighton.

In all, it was a four-hour trip that took five. (And if you count the hours I was working, it took more like nine hours. And that doesn't include the inconvience of having to call two coaches back because I couldn't really interview them while driving in the fog, working on a preview for a game I'll never get to see.)

So, yeah, Wednesday was fun.

In bite-by-bite segments, broken down by road traveled:

I-395, Alexandria, Va. to Springfield, Va.

I-495 (inner loop), Springfield, Va. to Tysons Corner, Va.

VA-267 (Dulles Toll Road), Tysons Corner, Va. to Dulles, Va.

VA-28, Dulles, Va. to Ashburn, Va.

It was at this point we made our first stop. I needed to get some information for my Redskins page; the Redskins went back to work today in preparation for Sunday's game in Tampa. My wife did some running around while I did some work.

Once I finished, we were back on the road, headed for Pennsylvania. The rest of our trip:

VA-28, Ashburn, Va. to Sterling, Va. (Near the end of Rt. 28, we passed the building that house the regional air traffic control center - Washington Center.)

VA-7, Sterling, Va. to Leesburg, Va.

US-15, Leesburg, Va. to near Mechanicsburg, Pa.

I-76 (Pennsylvania Turnpike), near Mechanicsburg, Pa. to near Westfield Terrace, Pa.

I-83, near Westfield Terrace, Pa. to Colonial Park, Pa.

I-81, Colonial Park, Pa. to near Lickdale, Pa.

I-78, near Lickdale, Pa. to Hamburg, Pa.

PA-61, Hamburg, Pa. to Orwigsburg, Pa.

PA-895, Orwigsburg, Pa. to New Ringgold, Pa.

PA-443, New-Ringgold, Pa. to Lehighton, Pa.

Across the bridge, and finally a quarter-mile stretch on PA-248 to my old neighborhood.

So there you have it. Recapping: 395, 495, 267, 28, 7, 15, 76, 83, 81, 78, 61, 895, 443, 248.

That would be one hell of a safe.

Weekend football report - and a programming note

2007-11-20T01:31:00.000-05:00

My wife got in touch with a long lost friend last night. They chatted for a good 30 minutes.

When she returned and got me up to speed on pertinent details, she soon became enthralled in the documentary I was watching on HD Theater called "Riding Giants."

It was about the rise of surfing in Hawaii and NorCal; the shots were breathtaking the story was well told. There's a part about Laird Hamilton taking a killer wave in Tahiti that appears on YouTube. So here you go:

Anyway, on with it. Viewing options weren't great this weekend, but here you are (and my apologies for not putting one together last week; we were hosting folks on Saturday and I just didn't have the time to put it together):

Army (lost to Tulsa 49-39)
Boise State (beat Idaho 58-14)
Boston College (beat Clemson 20-17)
California (lost to Washington 37-23)
Cincinnati (lost to WVU 28-23)
Clemson (lost to BC 20-17)
Connecticut (beat Syracuse 30-7)
Delaware (lost to Villanova 16-10)
Duke (lost to Notre Dame 28-7)
Florida (beat Florida Atlantic 59-20)
Florida Atlantic (lost to Florida 59-20)
Florida State (beat Maryland 24-16)
Gardner-Webb (lost to Liberty 31-0)
Georgia (beat Kentucky 24-13)
Georgia Tech (beat UNC 27-25)
Idaho (lost to Boise State 58-14)
Illinois (beat Northwestern 41-22)
Iowa State (lost to Kansas 45-7)
Kansas (beat Iowa State 45-7)
Kentucky (lost to Georgia 24-13)
Liberty (beat Gardner-Webb 31-0)
LSU (beat Ole Miss 41-24)
Maryland (lost to Florida St. 24-16)
Miami, Fla. (lost to Virginia Tech 44-14)
Michigan (lost to Ohio State 17-3)
Michigan State (beat Penn State 35-31)
Mississippi (lost to LSU 41-24)
Montana (beat Montana St. 41-20)
Montana State (lost to Montana 41-20)
Northwestern (lost to Illinois 41-22)
North Carolina (lost to Ga. Tech 27-25)
Notre Dame (beat Duke 28-7)
Ohio State (beat Michigan 17-3)
Penn State (lost to Michigan State 35-31)
Pittsburgh (lost to Rutgers 20-16)
Richmond (beat W&M 31-20)
Rutgers (beat Pitt 20-16)
Syracuse (lost to UConn 30-7)
Tennessee (beat Vanderbilt 25-24)
Tulsa (beat Army 49-39)
Vanderbilt (lost to Tennessee 25-24)
Villanova (beat Delaware 16-10)
Virginia Tech (beat Miami, Fla. 44-14)
Washington (beat Cal 37-23)
West Virginia (beat Cincinnati 28-23)
William & Mary (lost to Richmond 31-20)

A random blast from the past

2007-11-18T13:14:00.000-05:00

My wife and I spent Sunday morning out and about, running a few errands. First it was off to Washington Golf Center so my wife could finally pick out her birthday present - a new golf bag. (She got a purple and gray Titleist bag, which I must say fits her well.)

Out next stop was open-ended. We knew we needed food, but didn't want to deal with the mess we were sure would await us at Costco in Pentagon City. So we then agreed on Safeway, but detoured at the last minute to a nearby Harris Teeter, which opened only within the past six months.

It's a very urban-ish shopping experience: parking deck, wine and snacks upstairs, less room to navigate through rows and shopping areas.

Sensing that I was starting to annoy my dear wife (who, bless her heart, had put up with me so well up to that point), I trudged upstairs to check out the wine. After a lot of searching - the wine selection was fair but not great - I picked out a pinot grigio from Columbia Valley. I returned to show my wife, who asked me to walk back upstairs and get some Doritos for a mid-afternoon snack.

I did and was walking back toward the wine when a woman passed by.

"She's short," I thought, instinctively. "Son of a gun, she looks an awful lot like..."

Of course, I'm going to keep up the suspense.

I met up with my wife downstairs. With our basket full (or at least full of what we needed), we walked to the checkout line. There was that woman again, just ahead of us, with a guy.

They exchanged words, and my suspicions were confirmed.

It was her.

Ain't that a hell of a thing. You make a seemingly innocuous trip to a grocery store, and look what you come away with.

And no, I didn't go introduce myself. I'd guess she gets that a fair amount as it is; I'd rather have her enjoy a Sunday morning of anonymity. One would think it gets tiresome.

But she looked well and I hope her life outside of the public eye has been fulfilling. I wish her the best.

Does this qualify as ironic?

2007-11-15T00:19:00.000-05:00

Me, standing in my boss's office, watching my wife on TV sitting next to her boss.

Visa got it all wrong

2007-11-06T23:14:00.000-05:00

Perhaps you've seen this commercial.

It's dead wrong.

Yesterday afternoon, my wonderful wife asked if I could stop by the store on the way home. We were in need of supplies. Certainly, I replied.

I desperately needed gas anyway, plus I was looking for this video game, which sounded pretty damn cool. Except the price was $50, so I walked out empty-handed.

Just up the walkway was a Shoppers, a regional chain that has one store outside of the immediate Baltimore-DC area.

After literally walking around the entire store to find ice cream, I finally arrived in the right aisle. I found some Breyers, picked it out and walked toward the express checkout line.

Had I guessed correctly on where the ice cream was, I'd have arrived at the checkout when both express lines were open. But by the time I actually got there, the second of the two was checking out its last customer.

So I settled in line behind two younger females in the only remaining line. Both were together, apparently, but were making separate purchases.

The first made it to the front of the line. She fumbled through her gear to produce ID to walk out with her wine coolers, but otherwise uneventful.

The second girl? Oy.

She had a debit card, but had no clue how to use it. She slid her card through the reader and then accidentally cancelled her transaction. That happens from time to time to me, so I understand that.

One would think the second time would go more smoothly. It did not.

It got to the point that the cashier was simply pushing the buttons for her.

"Do you want cash back?" the cashier said. No, came the reply. A split second later, the cashier hit the corresponding button. Finally, it was over. The two left.

The cashier rang up my ice cream, I handed her a $5, she handed me change and thanked me. All in under 20 seconds.

Apparently everyone in Visa's commercial knows how to correctly use their card.

Unlike the real world.

A rant, and then weekend football report No. 5

2007-11-04T01:35:00.000-04:00

Three times today I was annoyed, almost beyond words.

I got so mad I could have made up a word to express my frustration. Like "asdasasafaf" or "inmindernate" or "trickeration."

Wait, someone already said the third term - three people, in fact. And that's why I'm so pissed off.

"Trickeration" is not a (excuse the French) fucking word. It's a word coined by our lords and masters at ESPN, because someone decided that trickery was just too damn dull. It describes any offensive football play that involves any level of razzle-dazzle: reverse passes, option passes, flea flickers, hook-and-ladders, whatever, because apparently using any of those terms - you know, actually describing the play - is so un-ESPNlike.

IT. IS. NOT. A. WORD.

Its continued use, in a small way, dumbs down the English language. Obviously, it's not grammatically correct; yet it seems now to be so ubiqitous - and growing each weekend - that I fear some people may think it's perfectly correct.

It's not.

If the play's a flea flicker, say so. If you want to get creative, call it trickery - as much an underused word as donneybrook, shenanigans or tomfoolery.

Do not use "trickeration." It's not a word.

Anyway, on with the weekend viewing schedule:

Alabama (lost to LSU 41-34)
Arizona (beat UCLA 34-27)
Arkansas (beat South Carolina 48-36)
Arkansas State (beat Fla. Int'l 27-24)
Boise State (beat San Jose State 42-7)
Buffalo (lost to Miami, OH 31-28)
California (beat Wazzu 20-17)
Clemson (beat Duke 47-10)
Cincinnati (beat So. Florida 38-33)
Coastal Carolina (lost to Liberty 37-24)
Delaware (beat JMU 37-34)
Duke (lost to Clemson 47-10)
Florida (beat Vanderbilt 49-22)
Florida International (lost to Arkansas State 27-24)
Iowa (beat Northwestern 28-17)
Iowa State (beat Kansas State 31-20)
James Madison (lost to Delaware 37-34)
Kansas State (lost to Iowa St. 31-20)
Liberty (beat Coastal Carolina 37-24)
LSU (beat Alabama 41-34)
Miami, Ohio (beat Buffalo 31-28)
Michigan (beat Michigan State 28-24)
Michigan State (lost to Michigan 28-24)
Navy (beat Notre Dame 46-44, 3OT)
Northwestern (lost to Iowa 28-17)
Notre Dame (lost to Navy, 46-44, 3OT)
Oklahoma State (lost to Texas 38-35)
Penn (beat Princeton 7-0)
Penn State (beat Purdue 26-19)
Pittsburgh (beat Syracuse 20-17)
Princeton (lost to Penn 7-0)
Purdue (lost to Penn State 26-19)
Richmond (beat Villanova 35-27)
San Jose State (lost to Boise State 42-7)
South Carolina (lost to Arkansas 48-36)
South Florida (lost to Cincinnati 38-33)
Syracuse (lost to Pitt 20-17)
Texas (beat Oklahoma State 38-35)
UCLA (lost to Arizona 34-27)
Vanderbilt (lost to Florida 49-22)
Villanova (lost to Richmond 35-27)
Virginia (beat Wake Forest 17-16)
Wake Forest (lost to Virginia 17-16)
Washington State (lost to Cal 20-17)

Weekend football report No. 4

2007-10-28T00:26:00.000-04:00

EDITED to update.

I'd be remiss if I didn't start out by saying we had a fun but sad Saturday night as we bid our good friends Andrew and Rebecca farewell. They're moving to Phoenix, a place they always figured they'd be moving to (both are Arizona grads and Andrew has extensive ties to the area).

We're both terribly sad to see them go. We had a lot of fun on Saturday nights, sharing friendship and a drink or several. We'll miss you guys - but we'll see you soon. We promise.

Anyway, on with it. A pretty productive weekend for football watching, so here's everyone we saw at least one play of:

Alabama-Birmingham (lost to East Carolina 41-6)
Arizona State (beat Cal 31-20)
Arkansas State (lost to Troy 27-0)
Auburn (beat Ole Miss 17-3)
Boise State (beat Fresno St. 34-21)
Boston College (beat Va. Tech 14-10)
Bowling Green (lost to Ohio 38-27)
California (lost to Arizona St. 31-20)
Central Florida (beat Southern Miss 34-17)
Clemson (beat Maryland 30-17)
Colorado (beat Texas Tech 31-26)
Connecticut (beat USF 22-15)
East Carolina (beat UAB 41-6)
Florida (lost to Georgia 42-30)
Fresno State (lost to Boise St. 34-21)
Georgia (beat Florida 42-30)
Hofstra (lost to Villanova 35-31)
Idaho (lost to Nevada 37-21)
Iowa (beat Michigan St. 34-27)
James Madison (lost to Richmond 17-16)
Kansas (beat Texas A&M 19-11)
Kentucky (lost to Mississippi St. 31-14)
Louisiana Tech (beat Utah St. 31-21)
Louisville (beat Pittsburgh 24-17)
Maryland (lost to Clemson 30-17)
Michigan State (lost to Iowa 34-27)
Mississippi (lost to Auburn 17-3)
Mississippi State (beat Kentucky 31-14)
Nebraska (lost to Texas 28-25)
Nevada (beat Idaho 37-21)
North Carolina (lost to Wake Forest 37-10)
Ohio (beat Bowling Green 38-27)
Ohio State (beat Penn State 37-17)
Oregon (beat USC 24-17)
Penn State (lost to Ohio State 37-17)
Pittsburgh (lost to Louisville 24-17)
Richmond (beat JMU 17-16)
Rutgers (lost to West Virginia 31-3)
South Carolina (lost to Tennessee 27-24)
South Florida (lost to UConn 22-15)
Southern Miss (lost to UCF 34-17)
Tennessee (beat South Carolina 27-24)
Texas (beat Nebraska 28-25)
Texas A&M (lost to Kansas 19-11)
Texas Tech (lost to Colorado 31-26)
Troy (beat Arkansas St. 27-0)
USC (lost to Oregon 24-17)
Utah State (lost to La. Tech 31-21)
Villanova (beat Hofstra 35-31)
Virginia Tech (lost to Boston College 14-10)
Wake Forest (beat North Carolina 37-10)
West Virginia (beat Rutgers 31-3)

RIP Coach Pollard, Part 2

2007-10-23T23:10:00.000-04:00

I can't really remember the first time I met Coach Doug Pollard. He was in charge of Moravian's highly-successful track and field teams; he and Mark Will-Weber - the head cross country coach, assistant track coach, marathoner and editor at Runner's World - were the backbone of a very strong Greyhound long-distance program.

It was probably because he was looking for volunteers to help run home track meets. I was happy to pitch in with the field events, since I had thrown javelin and discus in high school with varying levels of failure.

At one invitational meet - my sophomore year, I believe - I was in charge of both events. Since he was essentially running the meet, he had little time to actually coach. He was up in the press box, making sure everything was on schedule.

Once jav was over, we moved almost immediately to discus. Coach Pollard, in the press box, made the first call for men's discus. Eighteen folks made their way to the cage.

"I knew you were going to have a late day," Coach Pollard told me, "when I saw that mass of humanity start moving toward discus."

The days always ran late, it seemed. I'd always end up like a lobster from being in the sun all day, never thinking the days would last as long as they did. Those Saturday nights were spent with lots of aloe.

But I never minded.

Coach Pollard, who died on Monday far too soon, was a man who earned your confidence quickly. Besides the track meets, I knew him from hanging around the athletic department. Though I'd knew I wasn't much good enough to go out for track - and thus, never did - I always knew he would be the second person (behind Scot Dapp, the head football coach) I would go talk to if shit ever really hit the fan.

He was always quick with a smile, but didn't hesitate to tell you what he saw as the truth.

When our offensive line coach, Gary Williams, left the program after my junior year, we found out that Coach Pollard would be serving as our position coach. That really had me looking forward to my senior season; I knew we were getting a known commodity. Even better, I knew we were getting someone we could trust.

Our pregame ritual was always the same and not unlike most college teams. Specialists - punters, kickers, holders, returners - went out first, followed by backs and receivers. Then the big guys came out. As a team, we all went through warm-up drills from sideline to sideline, stretched, and did some positional warm-ups.

The last game I ever played was at home against Muhlenberg on a crisp, sunny October day. It also provides me with my lasting memory of Coach Pollard.

After those positional warm-ups, we all gathered into a huddle for some inspirational words.

"For some of you guys," he started, "today will be the last time you'll ever put on pads. And that's a tough thing to deal with."

Hearing those words, it hit home. It was my last game. It was the last time I'd ever put on pads.

Still, I was on a football field. As overcome with emotion as I was, I held back the tears.

Kind of like I am now.

Thank you, Coach, for all you've done for our school. We'll all miss you terribly.

RIP, Coach Pollard

2007-10-23T13:29:00.000-04:00

More on this a little later, but my offensive line coach during my senior year in college died suddenly on Monday.

A story in the Allentown Morning Call is here.

I'll be back later with some thoughts. A very, very sad day.

Weekend football report

2007-10-21T22:49:00.000-04:00

Before I get into that, a few notes on Saturday night's Catsino Night: As cool as I could have hoped. We were in the historic lobby, which gave us a grand view of a few planes (Alaska 737, Continental Express RJ, Delta MD-88, and what I believe to be a United 757) and the front end of the runway. So we saw planes just after touchdown, likely as they were just deploying reversers.

Just for showing up, we were given $10,000 in chips (play money, of course), except that most minimum bets were $1,000. Roulette was $500. I immediately gravitated toward the poker table which had two other folks. My first hand, I was dealt K-9 offsuit, big enough to play since there were only two others. Flop includes a nine and two undercards, so I've got top pair and top kicker. Dude keeps betting out at every opportunity and soon I've invested my whole stack. He flips over 3-5 offsuit.

And he wins with two pair.

I flashed my wife a look of anger she rarely sees. She implored me to calm down.

"The dealer was giving him instructions on how to play," she said. "What do you expect?"

I did buy back in and skipped poker for a while. Instead we had a grand time playing blackjack; I about broke even. So at least that part went well.

Anyway, on with the football. A fairly large list, I'd say, since we weren't even home on Saturday night...

Alabama (beat Tennessee 41-17)
Appalachian St. (lost to Georgia Southern 38-35)
Army (lost to Georgia Tech 34-10)
Baylor (lost to Texas 31-10)
California (lost to UCLA 30-21)
Cincinnati (lost to Pittsburgh 24-17)
Colorado (lost to Kansas 19-14)
Delaware St. (beat Morgan St. 25-17)
Florida (beat Kentucky 45-37)
Florida Atlantic (beat La.-Lafayette 39-32, OT)
Florida State (lost to Miami, Fla. 37-29)
Fresno St. (beat San Jose St. 30-0)
Georgia Southern (beat Appalachian St. 38-35)
Georgia Tech (beat Army 34-10)
Grambling (beat Jackson St. 30-20)
Howard (beat North Carolina A&T 35-27)
Indiana (lost to Penn State (36-31)
Iowa (lost to Purdue 31-6)
Iowa State (lost to Oklahoma 17-7)
Jackson St. (lost to Grambling 30-20)
Kansas (beat Colorado 19-14)
Kentucky (lost to Florida 45-37)
Louisiana-Lafayette (lost to Fla. Atlantic 39-32, OT)
Marshall (lost to Southern Miss 33-24)
Maryland (lost to Virginia 18-17)
UMass (beat Northeastern 24-7)
Miami, Fla. (beat Florida St. 37-29)
Miami, Ohio (lost to Temple 24-17)
Michigan St. (lost to Ohio St. 24-17)
Mississippi St. (lost to West Virginia 38-13)
Missouri (beat Texas Tech 41-10)
Morgan St. (lost to Delaware St. 25-17)
North Carolina A&T (lost to Howard 35-27)
Northeastern (lost to UMass 24-7)
Notre Dame (lost to USC 38-0)
Ohio St. (beat Michigan St. 24-17)
Oklahoma (beat Iowa State 17-7)
Penn State (beat Indiana 36-31)
Pittsburgh (beat Cincinnati 24-17)
Purdue (beat Iowa 31-6)
Rutgers (beat South Florida 30-27)
San Jose St. (lost to Fresno St. 30-0)
South Carolina (lost to Vanderbilt 17-6)
South Florida (lost to Rutgers 30-27)
Southern Miss (beat Marshall 33-24)
TCU (lost to Utah 27-20)
Temple (beat Miami, Ohio 24-17)
Tennessee (lost to Alabama 41-17)
Texas (beat Baylor 31-10)
Texas Tech (lost to Missouri 41-10)
UCLA (beat California 30-21)
USC (beat Notre Dame 38-0)
Utah (beat TCU 27-20)
Vanderbilt (beat South Carolina 17-6)
Virginia (beat Maryland 18-17)
West Virginia (beat Mississippi St. 38-13)

Whaddya know, Sony is still stupid

2007-10-18T13:35:00.000-04:00

The Associated Press is reporting that Sony will drop prices on its PlayStation3 and introduce a third model, considerably cheaper than its other two.

Sony has slashed $100 off its top-end model, which will now cost $499 - still the most expensive game console out there. It comes with an 80-gig hard drive.

What was formerly the lower-end model has all but been eliminated. The new low-end model will cost $399 - still the second-most expensive game console out there. And here's the rub: The low-end model won't be compatible with any PS2 games.

So let me make sure I'm understanding Sony correctly.

They still want me to pay way to pay way too much - exorbitant, really - for their best console. They want me to pay $150 more than what I could get for a comparable XBox 360, and they want me to spend twice as much as I would for a Wii, which has gotten considerably better reviews.

Or I could opt for the less-expensive version. Which would be of no use to my old PS2 games whatsoever and, frankly, the only real reason I'd consider buying a PS3 in the first freaking place.

I've said in the past that PS3 will have to come way down for me to consider it. PS3 is down (in more ways than one), but not down far enough.

Stuff it, Sony.

-- IF YOU CHECKED HERE Thursday afternoon, you no doubt noticed that this post was not up yet. Yet the timestamp says 1:35 p.m.

Here's what happened: I started typing this post when I saw the Yahoo story on its front page. Since Bloogle (my new name for Blogger/Google) records the time as when the post was started, that explains the discrepancy.

I got about 2/3 of the way through during some down time at Redskin Park (the arrival schedule at Dulles was virtually the same as Wednesdays, so even that didn't really enthrall me). Then, rather unexpectedly, one of the PR folks came in and announced practice was over - meaning we were free to head down and conduct interviews. So I had to cut the post short - duty called.

-- JUST LIKE OLD TIMES? Occasionally, our regional sports network, Comcast SportsNet, has multiple programs they'd like to broadcast but only one channel to broadcast on. Instead, they hijack C-SPAN2 and put sports programming on there. This is shown on our lineup as CSN+.

So I cruised past CSN+ tonight and caught an unusual sight: The broadcast of the Devils-Flyers game from Philadelphia. See, there's a CSN there too; the Philly version is actually the original, celebrating its 10-year anniversary soon.

We somehow got the feed from CSN-Philly. Sweet, I thought. I'd get to watch the Flyers, re-connect with some of the on-air personalities I haven't seen in seven years, like Michael Barkann, and see those random, incessant commercials from places in Philly like Forman Mills and car dealers like Gary Barbera.

But that didn't happen.

The Devils-Flyers game didn't have any commercial breaks.

Well, they did. I just didn't see any of the commercials. Instead, we were treated to all the stuff they're doing while everyone else sees commercials - rewinding tape, moving the camera around, preparing graphics, announcers chatting with each other.

They were discussing NHL scores and one didn't seem surprised to learn the Rangers were trailing in Atlanta - even though the Thrashers started the season 0-6 and had just fired coach Bob Hartley.

The Rangers, he said, are "just brutal this year." Nothing, however, came anything close to scandalous.

Still, it was interesting hearing things that we're not supposed to hear...

The din of a city

2007-10-18T00:10:00.000-04:00

I've given some thought lately to what other kinds of cities I'd want to live in (or near).

Places like Portland and Seattle and even San Jose or San Diego might sound cool. But I've had to separate my vision of a city from what it actually operates like. I think of the touristy, cool places, but that's different from what I really need to know: how a city operates.

How's traffic? Unless it's Los Angeles, it really can't be worse than DC. So that's a positive.

But what is nice about DC - or Northern Virginia really - is that if you know seven roads, you can get damn near anywhere you need to be: I-495 (Capital Beltway), I-95, I-66, US-1, US-50, US-29, VA-7.

What are the seven roads you need to know to get around Denver? What's the drive like on each?

These things intrigue me because on my drive, I see a lot of out-of-state plates (and no, Maryland doesn't count in this instance). I'd say damn near all those drivers fall into one of four categories: they're military (which explains the occasional Alaska or Hawaii plate), they're tourists, they're just driving through or they've just moved to the area and haven't changed their plates yet.

I know they probably don't look at any drive in DC the same way I do.

If we do move at some point, I'll probably be that same way for a bit. I just hope it's not that long.

-- THE BEST OF ALL WORLDS on Saturday night. Tomorrow, I'm planning on popping by the Arlington Animal Welfare Night to plunk down some cash for a fundraiser they're having. It's called Catsino Night.

Let's examine how awesome this will be.

1. As its name implies, there will be casino games. Including Texas Hold 'Em.

2. Free drinks.

3. It's in the lobby of Terminal A at National Airport.

Recounting: Poker, booze, planes.

The mind reels with how sweet this will be. "Why yes, I'll have a beer. Oh look, a US Air A319 from Dallas! Oh look, a flush draw!"

Fun, fun, fun

2007-10-15T19:30:00.001-04:00

A gorgeous view, no?

Nothing quite like hitting traffic when you least expect it.

This is my view on I-395 northbound just after the Duke St. exit.

You'll notice the thick stream of white headlights in the center. That's I-395 southbound, still very much in the thick of rush hour.

Just to the right, you'll see another string of white headlights running a parallel course. That's part of the reason you see so many red brake lights.

OK, it's not the reason. Here's the reason. At the bottom of the hill, I-395 passes right over Sanger Ave., near where all of this was going on.

That same station is now reporting that the situation has ended peacefully, which didn't much help me.

I made my way down the hill and up to my normal exit, Seminary Rd., which was backlogged; the back end of the line of cars was actually still on the highway. I gave it the old college try, but gave up after a few minutes and not a whole lot of movement.

When an open spot came, I accelerated back onto the freeway with the idea of taking the next exit at King St. That went smoothly until I got off the freeway.

I meandered west on King St. hitting every traffic and nearly every red light. At the second red light, I heard an approaching siren and saw a fire truck come by and turn left, just as everyone had vacated their lane to make way.

I got back into the left of the two lanes with the intention of turning left onto Beauregard St. - which was still another three lights away. I think I hit two reds and had some yahoo decide that he needed to get in the left lane RIGHT THIS FREAKING INSTANT.

Finally, I made it to the turn lane to go left on Beauregard. But the green arrow is notoriously short; thanks to the numbnuts who wasn't paying attention and sat there for 10 seconds during the green arrow, I had to wait through a second cycle before proceeding.

Whew, I'm finally on Beauregard. Out of the woods? Hardly.

I approach the intersection with Seminary - my normal drive makes a giant hook-shape, this was just extending the hook - and it's all backed up because, whaddya know, Seminary connects with Sanger Ave., which is still closed.

It took me three cycles to get south of Seminary on Beauregard, all in traffic like I've never seen on that road. Fortunately, a series of parking lots runs parallel, so I was able to sneak through those. But that was about the only good thing.

A normally 20-minute drive that was about double that.

I'm reminded of an e-mail I received from Mark, my brother-in-law, a few weeks ago. Driving to work, he spotted a couple of moose roaming around a field near the road.

"Man, I live in the country," he wrote.

At this point, I'd take the country.

Saturday football report No. 2

2007-10-14T08:58:00.000-04:00

I really did plan on writing this last night. But then after some drinks, typing became painfully slow. (And I'm doing all right - not great, but all right - this morning, thanks.)

I did learn, however, that I don't think mixing beer and wine is a great idea for me. I started off fine with my standard Yuengling. Once the Evolution was opened, well, what's a man to do? That's now become my favorite wine, though I regret its mention caused such consternation in the Zimmerman household (seventh graf).

Anyway, without further ado, here's who we saw yesterday:

Alabama (beat Ole Miss 27-24)
Arizona (lost to USC 20-13)
Arkansas (lost to Auburn 9-7)
Auburn (beat Arkansas 9-7)
Boston College (beat Notre Dame 27-14)
Bowling Green (lost to Miami-Ohio 47-14)
Colorado (lost to Kansas State 47-20)
Columbia (lost to Penn 59-28)
Duke (lost to Va. Tech 43-14)
East Carolina (beat UTEP 45-42, OT)
Eastern Michigan (lost to Ohio 48-42)
Fresno State (beat Idaho 37-24)
Georgia (beat Vanderbilt 20-17)
Georgia Tech (beat Miami, Fla. 17-14)
Hofstra (beat Towson 20-3)
Idaho (lost to Fresno State 37-24)
Illinois (lost to Iowa 10-6)
Iowa (beat Illinois 10-6)
Kansas State (beat Colorado 47-20)
Kentucky (beat LSU 43-37, 3OT)
LSU (lost to Kentucky 43-37, 3OT)
Miami, Fla. (lost to Ga. Tech 17-14)
Miami, Ohio (beat Bowling Green 47-14)
Mississippi State (lost to Tennessee 33-21)
North Carolina (lost to South Carolina 21-15)
Notre Dame (lost to BC 27-14)
Ohio (beat EMU 48-42)
Ole Miss (lost to Alabama 27-24)
Penn (beat Columbia 59-28)
Penn State (beat Wisconsin 38-7)
Rutgers (beat Syracuse 38-14)
South Carolina (beat North Carolina 21-15)
Southern Cal (beat Arizona 20-13)
Syracuse (lost to Rutgers 38-14)
Tennessee (beat Mississippi State 33-21)
Texas A&M (lost to Texas Tech 35-7)
Texas-El Paso (lost to East Carolina 45-42, OT)
Texas Tech (beat Texas A&M 35-7)
Towson (lost to Hofstra 20-3)
Wisconsin (lost to Penn State 38-7)
Vanderbilt (lost to Georgia 20-17)
Virginia Tech (beat Duke 43-14)

Saturday football roll call

2007-10-07T00:46:00.001-04:00

As much as I complain about ESPN, their GamePlan package is pretty sweet.

Why watch that Fresno State-Nevada game? Because I can. (And also because I'd move to Reno a split second, so I guess I'd have to become a Wolfpack fan. Long live the pistol!)

Anyway, I saw at least one scrimmage play from each of the following:

Alabama (beat Houston 30-24)
Auburn (beat Vanderbilt 35-7)
Ball State (lost to Central Michigan 58-38)
Central Michigan (beat Ball State 58-38)
Cincinnati (beat Rutgers 28-23)
Clemson (lost to Virginia Tech 41-23)
Florida (lost to LSU 28-24)
Florida State (beat N.C. State 27-10)
Fresno State (beat Nevada 49-41)
Georgia (lost to Tennessee 35-14)
Georgia Tech (lost to Maryland 28-26)
Houston (lost to Alabama 30-24)
Illinois (beat Wisconsin 31-26)
Iowa (lost to Penn State 27-7)
Kent State (lost to Miami, Ohio 20-13)
Louisiana-Lafayette (beat North Texas 38-29)
LSU (beat Florida 28-24)
Maryland (beat Georgia Tech 28-26)
Miami, Fla. (lost to North Carolina 33-27)
Miami, Ohio (beat Kent State 20-13)
Middle Tennessee State (lost to Virginia 23-21)
Missouri (beat Nebraska 41-6)
Nebraska (lost to Missouri 41-6)
Nevada (lost to Fresno State 49-41)
North Carolina (beat Miami, Fla. 33-27)
North Carolina State (lost to Florida State 27-10)
North Texas (lost to La.-Lafayette 38-29)
Notre Dame (beat UCLA 20-6)
Ohio State (beat Purdue 23-7)
Oklahoma (beat Texas 28-21)
Penn State (beat Iowa 27-7)
Purdue (lost to Ohio State 23-7)
Richmond (lost to Towson 23-21)
Rutgers (lost to Cincinnati 28-23)
Stanford (beat USC 24-23)
Syracuse (lost to West Virginia 55-14)
Tennessee (beat Georgia 35-14)
Texas (lost to Oklahoma 28-21)
Towson (beat Richmond 23-21)
UCLA (lost to Notre Dame 20-6)
USC (lost to Stanford 24-23)
West Virginia (beat Syracuse 55-14)
Wisconsin (lost to Illinois 31-26)
Vanderbilt (lost to Auburn 35-7)
Virginia (beat MITSU 23-21)
Virginia Tech (beat Clemson 41-23)

I know it's Week 5, kinda late in the game, but hopefully I can remember to keep a running log of this. At the end of the season, we'll tally how many teams we managed to check out.

-- AND, ON ANOTHER NOTE, I see Colorado swept the Phillies. No, I didn't watch.

It's typical. Those teams build you up; you think you're finally getting a payoff and wham, nothing. And that's what kills you about each of the Philly teams: They all suck at varying times to varying degrees, but they're never bad enough for long enough to make you give up altogether.

They suck you back in, setting you up for another heartbreak.

Putting that glass pane to good use

2007-10-03T23:56:00.000-04:00

I sat, as I always do, looking out the media center window at Redskin Park today. How convienent, it also provides a wonderful glimpse onto the approach path for runway 19R at Dulles International.

To get an idea of where I'm looking from, watch this video and pause it at 6:31.

In the lower right quadrant (an inch or so from the bottom and right), you'll see a patch of green that's more green than everything around it. That's the Redskins' artificial turf practice field. That building in front is their headquarters; the main entrance is in the middle, the media center just to the right.

So that's what it looks like from the sky.

Among the aircraft I had the pleasure of seeing:

-- British Airways 747

-- Saudi Arabian Airlines 747

-- United 747, 777 and 767

-- Air France 777

-- Virgin Atlantic A340

-- Scandinavian Airlines A330

-- KLM 777

And, on top of that, I sat in that same spot a few weeks ago and saw something I honestly never thought I'd see in my lifetime: A Korean Air 747.

God, I really am hopeless, aren't I?

NOTE: Links to pictures will be added as soon as I can. Airliners.net is undergoing a server change; it recommended I check out MyAviation.net, but frankly the photos I saw there were of poor quality. (EDIT: Done.)

Son of a gun, they did it

2007-10-01T09:04:00.000-04:00

Throughout the entire baseball season, I doubted the Phillies. Who wouldn't? Each of the past two years they were good enough to be in contention in the final days of September, only to be eliminated from the postseason with mere hours remaining in the season.

In June, when they were playing well: "Don't worry, they'll find a way to piss it like they always do."

In September: "Seven games back? With this team and those pitchers? Are you out of your damn mind?"

Last Sunday: "Don't worry. The Nationals will find God in that final series and become the reincarnation of the Big Red Machine."

Well, it's Monday morning, and I was wrong on all counts. The Phillies are NL East champions and going to the playoffs.

The only thing I'm really rooting for now is a Phillies-Cubs NLCS - a battle of the sorriest franchises for the right to go to the World Series. Wouldn't that be a great story? You have the 'woe is us' Cubs fans and the 'woe is us, and we'll kick your ass' Phillies fans.

But I do tread lightly on the subject; I know longtime readers Matt and Donna are both huge, huge Mets fans, and they have my greatest sympathies.

You invest your faith for six straight months, and just when it seems you've got a tangible reward in hand, the rug is ripped from under you. That's a shitty, shitty feeling, and I hate that it's two of my good friends that are dealing with that this morning. Keep the faith, guys. You've got a damn good team up there, and you'll be back next year - there can be no question about that.

As for the Phils, they'll find out their NLDS opponent this afternoon, when San Diego and Colorado have a one-game playoff to determine the wild card winner. Obviously, the way the Phils are constructed, I'd think they'll be pulling for the Rockies.

The Phillies aren't going to win 1-0, 2-0, 2-1; they have to score - usually a lot - to have a chance. Now look at the two teams that play today: The Padres play in Petco Field, where offense goes to die. The Rockies play in Coors Field, which is along the lines of MLB's own pinball machine.

Even if San Diego does win, the Phillies dodge a bullet. Ace (and NL Cy Young candidate) Jake Peavy will go for the Padres today, meaning the Phils get the rest of a staff that, aside from Peavy, has stumbled down the stretch.

All we can do now is wait.

Which ought to give me plenty of time to realize just how wrong I was - not that I really mind.

(Photo by Reuters)

Hank: Off to the vet

2007-09-30T01:53:00.000-04:00

About a month ago, Hank told us he was sick the best way he could. He pissed on our tiled surfaces - the front entrance, the main bathroom, the bathroom with his litter box (though he convienently pulled out some litter and covered it on top of the tile).

Sure enough, the, uh, deposits he left varied between pink and blood red.

I don't want to speak for my wife, but I'm fairly certain we're in agreement on this: We love Hank. We really want him around for as long as he can be. Often, I find myself sitting on the recliner; Hank will jump up and plop himself into an open crevice. We'll sit and watch TV that way.

Who wouldn't love a cat like that?

So we want him to be healthy. We took him to the vet, but they couldn't make much of determination. It could be any of A, B, or C. (I did e-mail my pal, Matt, to tell him that the funniest moment of the exam was Hank getting his temp taken - through the back door. Hank tried to scramble away, a sort of WTF?!?!? gesture, all of which made me laugh. Is that wrong?)

We got him some antibiotics, but they didn't help much.

So we informed the vet of this, and she gave us a different antibiotic to try. The second one worked for a while, but before long, Hank was back to his old ways - pissing on the tiles in various shades of red.

I talked to my uncle's wife, Kathy, down in Richmond. She's a vet and I have full faith and confidence in her. She recommended a few steps to get Hank pointed in the right direction.

Saturday morning, he made a trip back to the vet for a re-check. We talked about all of the options available to us, all while Hank sat, freaked out, on the exam room table. (To his credit, he was mostly a good soldier.)

Monday morning, he'll be back in again for an X-ray (to make sure it's not bladder stones) and to determine a further course of action.

Who knows exactly what that will be.

All I know is that I want my buddy around for as long as possible.

My dad hated cats. Hell, most of my uncles hates cats too. As a result, I hated cats for a long time. We've also documented here that our other cat, Grace, and I aren't on the best of terms (though my wife continues to tell me that Grace loves me to no end).

But Hank's my boy. I never much thought I'd think so highly of any animal, let alone a cat, as I do of Hank. He's awesome because he doesn't judge; he just wants to hang with his people and get love from his people.

We oblige, because it's impossible not to love Hank.

And that's why my wonderful wife will be dropping him off at the vet on Monday morning. We want him healthy.

Hopefully he gets there soon.

EDIT to remind faithful readers that higher-order thinking, like constructing words and turning a phrase, tends not to work so well after a night of imbibement. So my profound apologies for the simplistic writing.

A change in attitude

2007-09-28T11:09:00.000-04:00

For one reason or another, I've found myself thinking a lot about my hometown and reminiscing about growing up there.

When I was a wee tike, we got word that McDonald's was coming. Holy crap, that was a big deal; big corporate America knew we existed! Furthermore, none of the other towns around us - Palmerton, Jim Thorpe, Lansford, Summit Hill - had one. Suck on that, punks.

There's still a McDonald's where that first one was built - kind of. Apparently they had some sort of sewer issue that forced them to tear the whole thing down and rebuild.

From where I grew up, it was about a 5-6 minute drive, depending on how many of the lights you hit. (Back in high school, I could make that drive and only deal with two stoplights. Now, there's four, which could mean one of two things: The population has necessitated such a move - it hasn't - or our fine government does a great job of protecting us from ourselves. In fairness, one of those new lights was pretty badly needed. The other's just stupid.)

It was a 3-4 minute drive into town for the IGA there, since my dad despised the much bigger Laneco (we always just called it Lanes) supermarket, which is now a Giant.

Anyway, back then, we'd make occasional forays to visit an aunt and uncle in the northern Baltimore suburbs. How eye-opening it was back then; they could walk across the street, literally, to a supermarket! If they wanted to walk a few blocks, they could go to Arby's! Awesome! Man, imagine if we had that back home...

Well, my current home does have that. I could walk to a supermarket (but it's not very good, and we usually only stop there for milk, beer or other vitals). A 5-6 minute drive in any direction would yield four McDonald's, a Taco Bell, a Subway and a Wendy's.

When I'm at work, a 5-6 minute drive yields 3 McDonald's, a Taco Bell, a Subway, a Wendy's, a Burger King and a Chick-fil-A, plus whatever else is in the food court at Potomac Mills.

Sweet, right?

Well, no.

Now, I'd just as soon have something from a local or regional place - or, more to the point, someplace different. Like those four links at the side. I'm happy to run down the road to Five Guys, even if it means a trip to the ATM because they don't take debit cards.

I'm glad to go spend the money and enjoy the atmosphere at Clyde's. They have two barrooms there; the front more formal, the back more relaxed. The back is like a waterside shack you'd find on a beach somewhere; multiple TVs and background music that's always playing Big Tracks or Lucy. Hell, it's where we discovered Lucy was a damn good channel.

I'll take that over McDonald's any day. Maybe that wasn't the case at one time, but my attitude has done a 180.

Maybe it's time for a new blog

2007-09-26T20:00:00.001-04:00

I don't mean getting rid of this one. I mean starting a new one.

You'll remember the stuff from Patrick Smith last week. Now, there's something that's really kind of stuck in my craw, as they say.

If you don't watch sports much, you probably missed Oklahoma State's football coach launch into a tirade at one of the Oklahoma City columnists. His team had just won its biggest game of the season, yet he decided he would dedicate his entire post-game press conference toward berating this columnist. Last I checked, a thread on it was up to 28 pages over at SportsJournalists.com (the last time a thread moved that fast, it involved Mitch Albom).

I've yet to actually read her column; I will at some point.

But this has brought all of the goobers out to take a giant shit on the media. Yeah, the football coach from Oklahoma State put us in our place, all right. The school hasn't been really relevant since Barry Sanders played there.

Someone's got to fight back on behalf of us; Lord knows no one else is going to.

Maybe that's my job.

I'll sleep on it.

WTF

2007-09-22T05:21:00.000-04:00

The clock down here says 5:18. I should be sleeping, but here I am.

I tossed and turned for a good long while. I tried to go to one of several happy places - golfing among them - but it was of no use. Thoughts of work kept creeping back into my head.

Eventually (as you can tell) I just gave up. I figured if I get all this stuff down in an e-mail, I can get it the hell out of my head and perhaps enjoy what's left of the night. But it's going to take me a little while to wind down, so here I am.

But, as it stands, it looks like I'll be dozing through at least part of that Kent State-Akron game.

Lost... and found

2007-09-21T12:26:00.000-04:00

"I miss the blog. Enough said," Cheryl wrote in an e-mail a few weeks ago.

"It's been over a month... new post?" Tara e-mailed a few days ago.

So, here I am. I've been negligent, obviously, but for many reasons. All will sound like excuses so I won't bore you with the details. But I will say it involves a heavier-than-normal work schedule, a slew of addictive online games and a sick cat who refuses to want to get better. Feel free to draw your own conclusions.

I actually come here to inform you the set of links on the right has been slightly changed. The more astute of you will notice that Patrick Smith's column on Salon, Ask the Pilot, is no longer linked.

I freely admit I am no professional pilot. Though I have better knowledge than most about what it takes to fly a plane, my knowledge pales in comparison to real pilots. Hell, it pales in comparison to some of my friends at United Virtual. I recognize my limitations.

Mr. Smith is a pilot first; thus he is one of those folks with a lot more knowledge on flight than me. He's also a part-time journalist, writing that column for Salon. I'd like to think my journalistic knowledge would eclipse that of Mr. Smith, but apparently I'm wrong.

Seems lately the media can do no right for Mr. Smith. Two of the past three weeks, he's found it necessary to take a shit on the media - the mainstream media, of course, which seemingly can do no right for no one.

Two weeks ago, Mr. Smith wrote about the oft-replayed fire of a China Airlines jet burning after arriving at an Asian airport. The headline: "Lessons from a burning plane: What the media didn't tell you about a near disaster in Asia." We know where this is going.

Summing up Mr. Smith's complaints: An AP story generically referred to "the pilot" doing this or doing that, when in fact there are two crew members on the flight deck; the hype and overstatement of anchor comments as the replays aired on the networks (shocking! We've never seen that before); a CNN anchor mistakenly refers to the 737 as a big plane and the airline as "China Air." One of these is factually incorrect (the fourth); another, admittedly, could use more clarification (the first); the other two are merely opinion, one more agreeable than the other.

Calling a 737 a big plane isn't entirely accurate, but it's not entirely inaccurate, either. It's certainly no comparison to a 747 or a 777, but compared to a regional jet or personal aircraft, it's pretty big. At some point in the past - and I apologize for not being able to find a link - Mr. Smith even wrote that when you get down to it, the size of even a 737 is impressive; that idea, though, has largely been lost because of jetways and the air travel's loss of innocence in the public's mind.

I left a note for Mr. Smith, detailing some of these concerns. I told him I didn't think it was fair for me to comment on the CNN and TV critiques, since that's not really my area of expertise. Mr. Smith wrote back saying that wasn't fair, and apparently it's too much to ask to a reporter to get every single detail right. No, it's not, but if that's how he wants to read it, I don't believe I can change his perception. It's his column, and I'm happy to give him the final say, so I left it at that.

But it takes a little more to get me really pissed off. Two weeks later, and Mr. Smith writes about the latest media ball-dropping (though without such a suggestive headline this time). You'll find my beef at the end of page 1 (this great line: "While we're at it, let's hit the newspapers and clarify a few other distortions.") and on the top of page 2.

Mr. Smith mentions AP reporter Audra Ang, who reported on the Phuket crash of a One-Two-Go Airlines jet. In order, Mr. Smith takes issue with: a quote from the director general of the Thailand's Air Transport Authority; the validity of accounts from those on the plane; and a statement in the story that Smith admits is true.

So, in order:

Mr. Smith doesn't like the summation given by Chaisak Angsuwan, who claims the plane appeared to have "lost its balance and crashed." Mr. Smith says balance is no factor for flight, thus it's an incorrect statement. But I ask you, Mr. Smith, what was the reporter to do? Modify the quote to reveal its inaccuracy? Change the quote? Man, that would really give Salon the rest of the anti-MSM crusade something to howl about.

Leaving the quote out isn't much of an option; the guy's in charge of Thai airways. The buck stops with him. He's supposed to be an authority; clearly his statement calls his credibility into question. But that's not the reporter's problem. Our challenge is to tell you what happened and what people said about what happened; you, the reader, are smart enough to figure out if the guy's legit or full of shit.

The second verse, same as the first. If eyewitnesses and people on the plane told this to the reporter, how is she not to believe it? Again, do you misquote people because you don't believe the accuracy of their claims? Of course not. You quote them and let the reader decide.

Third verse: Mr. Smith admits this statement - "Many budget airlines use older planes that have been leased or purchased after years of use by other airlines." - is true, but still seems to have a problem with it. Does its inclusion leave the reader with a certain impression? Perhaps, but it's all about what you read into it. Mr. Smith says that older planes aren't necessarily less safe than newer ones; but he fails to mention they also need more care. Me, personally, I'd feel better about riding on a 1982 MD-80 from American - which I know has the personnel and engineering to keep these planes safe - than I would from a regional carrier in certain parts of the world.

I know, this has gone on way too long for most of you. But I'll end it with this: Mr. Smith is fortunate enough to be able to have a side job where he writes about a field he is an expert in; there can be no question of that. His columns run once a week; he can write on Monday or Wednesday or Thursday if he wants.

But his disconnect seems to come from the fact that general assignment news reporters aren't necessarily aviation experts. I'd also assert that deadline reporting is harder than it looks.

I challenge him to go cover any Red Sox game for the Boston Globe. Write an early feature, an early notebook, a standing notebook, a full-quote game story and an updated notebook. And to get everything accurate, to the T. No mistakes.

It's not as easy as you'd think.

Catastrophe comes home

2007-08-03T00:37:00.000-04:00

That red car belongs to my former co-worker, Garrett Ebling.

He is one of the scores of people injured in the 35W bridge collapse in Minneapolis on Wednesday. He lived, but he's critically injured and will undergo surgery on Friday at the Hennepin County Medical Center.

I know the moment when we found out. I sit right next to our managing editor's office. She was on the phone and I heard her let out a loud gasp. This isn't unusual; she's a very exuberant person who laughs loudly, too. But each time I hear a noise like that, I hope everything's OK.

This time it wasn't. Ten minutes later, she was explaining this to our sports editor, who sits right across from me. I didn't pretend to hide my concern and afterwards, I immediately set to e-mailing former colleagues to tell them the news.

Garrett worked with us in various capacities on the newsside. After his final assignment here, as editor of one of our weeklies, he took a job back in his native Minnesota. He was out in the country, I believe, but he got considerably closer to his beloved Twins and Vikings.

We're still not sure why he was on the bridge when he was - we can only guess he was headed to see the Twins - but it's a miracle that he lived. Hell, when you think about it, it's a miracle that so many people survived.

That picture is haunting in some ways, affirming in others.

It's haunting to know that that car carried someone I call a friend. It's haunting to see it framed by such unwieldy, twisted metal. It's haunting to know that someone I know is at the center of the biggest story in the country.

But it's life affirming too: That car is on the precipice of disaster. A few more feet forward, and the car's completely underwater and maybe he becomes one of the casualties. I can't help but think were it not for the hand of God, I'd be a lot more sad than I am right now.

Get well, Garrett. We're all pulling for you.