Broken Wing

Think of the Bald Eagle, and you bring to mind an icon, a symbol of the American spirit. Yet, there was a time not too long ago, that the great bird was on the verge of extinction. Upon discovery of the bird's plight, there seemed to be an appeal to American pride, that we couldn't allow such a great emblem to disappear from the planet. There was just too strong a bond for people to sit back and do nothing.

The bald eagle recovered, reclaimed its place in history. The bird with the broken wing survived.

We have another great American icon that seems to be struggling with a broken wing. It is as much a part of the national fabric as our Bald Eagle. The building blocks of the American spirit have always been Mom, apple pie and baseball.

Baseball has been a constant for generations. We have fought terrible wars, suffered tremendous loss, horrendous tragedies, yet, when the smoke cleared, the battlefields emptied, there was baseball. There it stood, ready to welcome us back. Nothing could ever hold us down for long, because baseball was always there to remind us that we were Americans, a nation of people too proud to ever admit defeat. And baseball was the game that helped keep us together.

Our heroes past were flawed, imperfect. While they were out on the field, however, they were gods, incapable of anything less than sheer perfection. Their off-field behavior was not what we cared about. If anything, it diminished their on-field performance. One can only imagine what the likes of Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig and The Mick might have further accomplished if they'd managed to stay healthy just a little bit longer.

It is ironic that the cloud that hangs over our broken-winged creature is caused by men striving to exceed perfection. But the backlash simply illustrates and enforces our desire to see players exceed their natural abilities by exertion of will and courage and character, rather than through the use of performance-enhancing substances. While our respect has always been given to the powerhouse dynasties, such as the NY Yankees, our hearts and imaginations have been forever captured during the seasons when a Cinderella team finally had its dance at the ball.

Our beloved bird is struggling. The image has been marred. But we know that even the most tarnished surface, with some love and a little American elbow grease, can be restored to its former luster.

We don't give up on our loved ones in this country. We rally behind those we see as suffering, and we do what we have to in order to make them well again.

Baseball is on the verge of seeing a controversial player claim one of its most revered titles, and when that record is eclipsed, there is certain to be discussion and disagreement about the validity of that accomplishment. There will be uncertainty with regard to a great many accomplishments in the sport. Baseball will lose a little more of its charm in the near term.

But we'll find a way to nurse our injured icon back to health. It may never be perfect again, but that will be just fine. Baseball is too valuable to our nation to allow it to be made extinct by the actions of a few. Our icon will return from the brink. Our country just won't have it any other way.

That's What Friends Are For...

Sometimes people say things to you that are just so great, you're sorry that more people weren't around to hear it. Thankfully, through the wonder that is Blogging, sometimes you get to share those things because they're in writing.

I've had my share of nonsense and issues of late. I have my "support team" in many different forms, thanks to the Web. And I get a lot of support and inspiration from people in so many different ways. Sometimes, though, someone just takes that extra step to make you feel so much better.

This was a comment a friend left me recently. Days later, it honestly still chokes me up in a good way, and I don't think I'll ever forget it. So if I may, please indulge me for sharing these words, ok?

I don't know if this is the right time or place but I'm going to get a little spiritual. Some stuff kept running through my mind as I read your post--esp about the disability part. I don't know what you believe regarding the next life, but each of us will be resurrected one day--which means our spirits will be reunited with our bodies....in perfect form. Our bodies are mortal here on earth and thus subject to illness and wear and tear. Whatever ailment, physical deformity, etc. we have in this life will be gone in the next. Thus, all your knee problems, back problems, down to the smallest scar will be gone and your body will be restored to its most perfect form.

Sorry if I got a little carried away; you don't have to publish this, but for some reason I felt impressed to share that.

I hope you appreciate it as much as I did.

This Is Kinda Boring

I took one of those online quiz things, and I wanted to keep this somewhere to look back on.

This is some of what it told me:

You are an Experiencer
#

Your inquisitive nature, imagination, and hands-on practicality make you an EXPERIENCER.

Although you have an active imagination, you also concern yourself with the functional elements of things.

You are willing to experiment to find things that work the most efficiently.

Getting stuck in certain habits is boring to you—you'd rather find new experiences.

Accordingly, experiences are more important to you than objects—you'd rather spend your money and energy on events and adventures than on material things.

You like to contemplate a lot of options before making a decision, and you're willing and able to consider a lot of different angles to problems.

You're open to suggestions, and often rely on others to assess the merit of those suggestions.

You have an ability to see the big picture—not just how things are, but how they could be—in a variety of situations.

You're well-attuned to your emotional state, and not afraid to use your feelings to guide you. You tend to be cooperative, rarely contradicting others, and always considerate of their feelings.

You have a strong sense of style and value your personal presentation - friends may even seek your style advice from time to time.

You are Benevolent

You are a great person to interact with—understanding, giving, and trusting—in a word, BENEVOLENT

You don't mind being in social situations, as you feel comfortable enough with people to be yourself.

Your caring nature goes beyond a basic concern: you take the time to understand the nuances of people's situations before passing any sort of judgment.

You're a good listener, and even better at offering advice.

You're concerned with others at both an individual and societal level—you sympathize with the plights of troubled groups, and you can care about people you've never met.

Considering many different perspectives is something at which you excel, and you appreciate that quality in others.

Other people's feelings are important to you, and you're good at mediating disputes.

Because of your understanding and patience, you tend to bring out the best in people.

Benevolent Experiencer

Click there to try it yourself.

Weight a Minute

Most of the time, people who obsess about dieting, eating, blahblahblah, usually spend a lot of time fighting that war. Again, I'm not Adonis, my body is sure to punish me whenever I let go of the dietary guidelines by keeping the fat around to remind me.

But I know from past experience that you can't spend every waking moment planning meals, dodging temptation, etc. It will drive you nuts. You have to live, you just have to modify how you live a little. You didn't get fat in three days, you're not going to reverse it in three days either. I'm not always patient, but when the right reasons come along, I can find patience in a big way.

I went to a very nice restaurant yesterday. Italian cuisine. Very nice. I ordered whatever I wanted, and then I ate just enough to be full and satisfied. That meant there was some food left on the plate. Yep, the "Clean Plate Club" is not something I belong to, and I put the knife and fork down when the belly said "No Vacancy". I had bread, Chicken Marsala, salad WITH DRESSING, and I even had some dessert, a fancy little recipe with a little cappucino mousse and cake mixed together. I didn't wipe it out...I had a few bites, about half the portion, and the brain said, "Okeydoke, that's plenty."

I went home feeling satisfied, and not on the hunt for something more to fill the void. Not a bad deal.

And, this morning, I exercised.

That awful word.

So, that's the Diet story for the day.

Something Good

Sometimes a better mousetrap does come along. I've been experimenting on and off with Firefox, and man, this latest release is incredibly good. Almost amazing. Almost.

I was having problems viewing a number of sites with IE as well as that dreaded AOL browser. I loaded up Firefox, and I was good to go. Any plugins I needed to catch up, one click and I was done. No restarts, no 8 hour installation processes, I think I'm in love with a Fox.

Larger Than Life

I remember as a kid, reading all sorts of "hero" books. One of my favorites was a biography of Babe Ruth. He was an orphan who lived out the "rags-to-riches" American Dream. He came from nothing, yet became a person whose name was known for many generations. I think back to the Lou Gehrig story, a great athlete who played in 2,130 consecutive games, and who heroically stared down the evil disease that bears his name to this day.

There was a time when, if you became the Heavyweight Boxing Champion of the World, you were American Royalty. I remember following the exploits of Muhammad Ali, who was probably the biggest self-promoter in history. He'd boldly predict the round in which he would knock his opponent out, and then, more often that not, go out and fulfill that prophecy. And once the battles were done, he'd be the embodiment of humility and grace.

Ruth set a Home Run record that stood for nearly 40 years. When the time came, Hank Aaron broke that record amidst a tremendous buzz. The attention wasn't all positive though, as Aaron faced death threats warning him to back off the chase. So the new record was one of both athletic greatness and immense courage.

So what's happening now? Barry Bonds of the SF Giants is on the verge of eclipsing that record, yet how many people seem to care? He's surly, has minimal contact with fans, and is difficult with the press. Think back to Mike Tyson, who was the most formidable boxing talent to emerge in decades, yet what did he do with the fame?

I wonder how many of us, off the top of our heads, could even name the current World Heavyweight Champion in boxing. When was the last time any of us lined up outside the stadium after the game in hopes of garnering some athlete's autograph?

But yet, I'd bet that each and every one of us could name an athlete who is in trouble with the law, or a celebrity who's been arrested for DUI in the last month.

It seems now that "accomplishment" and "fame" are no longer partners. As a matter of fact, "fame" has become confused with "notoriety" more and more every day. If you look back at the histories of Ruth, Gehrig and the like, there are countless photos of them posing with adoring fans, with kids, basking in the limelight of that adoration. Sure, we as a society love to focus on the shortcomings of our Greats, as we know Ruth loved the nightlife, and probably drank a few more beers than he should have. And some will point out that Ali had problems with the Draft Board. But are those things really capable of diminishing the greatness borne by these people?

I jokingly peeve about the use of the word "amazing" in our culture. Seems every day, some star, some athlete, some "famous" person is described as "amazing." Sit and read about the struggles of Lou Gehrig, the accomplishment of the 1969 NY Mets, or what Ali did in the ring, and you might understand why the dilution of the word "amazing" gets under my skin.

I don't deny that there probably are some great people out there today, I'm just wondering why we're not hearing about them so much these days. I think my point here is, who are my kids reading about? Who will my grandchildren be reading biographies of, under the guise of "heroes"?

Who would you want your grandchildren reading about?

And Since I'm Begging...

To all those athletes not content with pure competition:

PLEASE STOP CHEATING!

A Public Plea

I'm convinced that if you were to run into any of the Presidential candidates on the street, and ask them the time, they'd spend the next 2 hours telling you how to build a clock.

Here's my problem. If the candidate is asked whether she is right or left-handed, and she answers with her shoe size, along with a detailed explanation of how the bones in the feet work, you're probably going to have a fact-filled, long-winded oratory. But you don't have the answer to the question, do you?

I try to catch all the debates on both sides of the political spectrum. And I intend to catch as many more as are broadcast. But going forward, I have one request to make of each and every single participant: ANSWER THE DAMNED QUESTIONS!

I once had a Public Speaking class with an instructor who warned us not to construct a presentation made up of birdseed. In his admonition, "birdseed" was used to represent a whole lot of pretty rhetoric. If you get up and cover the ground with a whole pile of birdseed, and the birds eat it all up, what do you have left.

Folks, I appreciate that most of you are very well-educated. You have a nice command of the English language, but use it to answer the questions!

Rhetoric, bad. Truth good. And if you don't know, say so. Tell us, "Hey, let me get back to you on that." That might earn you some respect.

Wow, I Need Work

I'm always griping about something. I have a little problem with the area radio stations. Actually, it's a curiosity. No matter what time of the day, when one station goes to commercial, they all go to commercial. My Toyota has the pre-set buttons in a really cool row, so I can whip through the stations in a hurry, and without taking my eyes off the road.(such a good boy) So yeah, I gripe about that too.

Today, the station I was tuned to played that Carrie Underwood cheating song. Me no like. Me really, really no like that song, know what I mean? Tune to preset 2. Carrie Underwood cheat song. Hit preset 3. Carrie. 4. Carrie 5. 6. CARRIE!

Are you kidding me now?

Then I hit a red light. Started pressing buttons.

My friend came over recently and asked if she could borrow the car. When she brought it back, she'd set all the presets to the same station. I didn't know you could do that. Then again, I'd never tried.

Tell me again why I have friends.

Hair-brained

Please don't read this if you're eating

I got a visit from a friend over the weekend. She's considerate, a good cook, and all-around pain in the ass. I love her, mostly. She came by because she knew I was bummed, plus she reads this.

She called out from the bathroom, asking if I had any Advil, which was in the medicine cabinet. I heard her rustling around in there.

A couple of minutes later, she came out with this:

"What is this?" she asked.

I explained to her that it's called the Turbo-Groomer, and it comes from Sharper Image. I told her what it does, explaining that it keeps my ears and nose from becoming bushy, like I'm smuggling rabbits or something.

"That's gross," she said. "You have to trim nose and ear hair with this?"

"Well, no, you can use scissors, and axe, a chainsaw, this just does it painlessly, bloodlessly and quickly."

"Eww." Again with the 'eww'.

"Why 'eww'," I said.

"That's nasty," she said.

"What's nasty?" I demanded.

"You have to trim your ears???"

Ok, so can I just address this whole issue of Male Body Hair?

Unlike a tattoo on my tongue, or a mullet, or mohawk, this "condition" is not something we guys actively choose. Nature has an evil sense of humor, and does things to males, just as it does to females. If I had the choice not to have to mow the ears or nose, trust me.

I'm not a bear. When I take my shirt off, it does not reveal a knitted wool sweater. I don't howl at full moons. But there are some unwelcome follicles placed strategically (from Nature's point of view) around my body.

I mean what's "ewww?" I keep it out of sight. When I shave my face, I occasionally have to follow up with a little nip/tuck action. I do it in the privacy of the bathroom in front of the mirror. I do not practice at dinner.

I have two options: Turbo Groom, or comb ears and nose. I go with the first choice.

She also mentioned that the Turbo Groomer looked like something else.

And my body hair is gross?

I'm so glad she came here.

Conclusions Jumped To

I wrote the other night about unexplained insomnia. It happens to us all. Then there's the other kind. When you know why you're awake, and still can't do anything about it.

I'm having a "pity party" spell. I'm glad these don't happen too often, because they don't feel too nice. But I've been studying intensely for quite a few days, and I guess I jumpstarted my brain, and then revved it a little too high.

Right now, I'm at the end of one of those self-evaluation sessions, and the end wasn't too happy. I can't say I'm a great person, by any means, but I do believe I'm ok. Maybe even decent. I've hurt people, and I know it. The only thing I can say to defend that is that I've never done it intentionally. I was raised well, by good and decent parents, and I like to think I inherited some of that decency. I always tried to live by the "code", and always try to do the right thing.

Yet, everything I've worked for, created, is gone. I'm at a point now where I should be resting on the laurels just a little bit, and instead I'm trying to figure out how to restart my life. I'm making notes on what I've done wrong, and how to avoid it in the future. Only a lot of the things I've done on my way to here were the things I've considered "decent". So what now, do I start living a life doing less-than-honorable things? I'm alone. I don't like to be alone, at least when I don't have a say in the matter.

I've seen so many examples of where being decent doesn't pay off. I've watched the bad guys do whatever they want, and the good girls give them chance after chance to hurt them again. I have someone in my life who only seems to respond to meanness, selfishness, and unkindness. Is that how I want to be with someone?

All I know is, none of those bad guys are alone tonight.

I'm sick of being who I am. I'm always the back-up plan, the one they come to only when everything else falls apart. When there's nothing else to do, or when they need something. And it sucks, if you'll pardon the crudeness.

Yeah, I guess this will pass. Until it happens again.

Say It Loud

Every person who keeps a blog, and who has had enough of this kind of crap should post this picture and say what they think of the practice of completely altering the image of a person. Every single one.

And then they should skip this month's Redbook, and every issue of every magazine that pulls this nonsense.

Polishing up a picture, clearing out a few laugh lines here or there, fine. Creating a completely different person, just wrong.

Everyone should post this and let them know it.

This Is How It Starts...

I was looking through an old Journal of mine and found this. I thought I'd repost it today.

It starts so innocently...a nice way to start your day, and you look forward to it...

Harmless, warm cup o' Joe...

Then, you start to realize, that you're really enjoying your morning dosage...and you see a way to squeeze in just a little more on the way...

...just a little more...

Then it has you. You move to

...the Next Level...

This holds you for a while, and you're content. And then, you're innocently walking along, and you hear "Hey Buddy, check this out..."

...ooooh, a bigger 'fix'...you can't resist...

And life is good. You handle it, no one has noticed just yet. It's under control.

Until that one late night, a moment of weakness, no one around...and

You're getting in deeper, but you're still holding it together...no one comments on your disposition change as you hunt, crave...

And then you top off. It calls, it beckons, you cannot resist...you struggle...perhaps it's a well-intentioned gift, a way to win your favor. They have no idea...Over you go!

The time has come. You're out of control...people are afraid of you, at your mercy ().

It's inevitable...you must regain control! You must face the enemy!

We have met the enemy...and we are THEIRS!

But, who cares? It's GOOD!

Enjoy! Wish I'd had theme music for this one...

Reality Check

Well, I know one thing's inevitable: chicken. Lots and lots of chicken. I think it's just one of those things that get locked into the psyche: "if you're dieting, you gotta eat chicken." Chicken breast makes so, so many meals. Grilled, roasted, diced, caesar chicken salad, or chicken caesar salad.

You get the point. After a while I start scratching at the ground and sprouting feathers.

Of course, it's not the only thing that works for a diet. Hell, a lean steak is good for you if prepared properly. Turkey is ok, but tends to remind me of particleboard, and cold turkey breast can get funky in a hurry.

It's the fat-guy myths I gotta work on avoiding. Someone once told me that calories don't count if no one sees you eat them. Dumb. I remember another friend telling me I ought to sue Diet Coke since it didn't work. But of course, 2 cheeseburgers, french fries and a Diet Coke isn't exactly the formula, you know?

So yeah, pollo it is. A lot. At least in the first few weeks, until you realize that there is more to life than eating a bird, and creativity becomes the mother of recipe invention.

It also helps to stop being obsessed with whatever meal is next. Hey, yo-yo, that's what got you in trouble in the first place, ya know? Ya gotta just go on with life, spending just a few less minutes working out the chew muscles, and a few more paying attention to the others.

Fish is good. Just not tuna salad with 9000 pounds of mayo, ya know? That kind of thinking falls into the Diet Coke + anything you want = weightloss. We had a nutritionist at work for a while, and some lab proved that a 1/4 cheeseburger on a roll had less of the bad stuff than a tuna salad sandwich. Sigh.

But guess what? We're back to the bad word: exercise. Splenda may knock off a few calories, but crunches knock off the pounds. Yeah, exercise is the 700 pound gorilla that's not gonna move out and go away.

Yeah, when someone says, "What's that on the back of your leg" and the "that" turns out to be your ass, it's time to fight the gorilla.

And eat chicken.

The Conventions

I was thinking a lot today, which can be good or bad, depending on the day. I was thinking about how I haven't been playing by the rules the last couple of years. I'm not talking about being some kind of Rebel Without A Cause necessarily, but you get the point.

I have friends I shouldn't have, from places they shouldn't be from. I can honestly say that I have friends from just about every circle of life (I'm even buddies with an Ophthalmologist), from 18 to 82 years of age, and both genders. For me, it's been a cool experience. I have an 18 year old who keeps me up to date, and an 82 year old who reminds me how much better we have it than she did. It's good for keeping you grounded, because a 20 year old won't hesitate to let you know if something is lame.

Age is not a prerequisite for wisdom. And wisdom is not always borne of experience. Some of the best advice I've ever been given came from someone a lot younger than I am. And believe me, I'm grateful for that.

Intelligence is an amazing character trait. I've been lucky in that I've been able to interact with a lot of intelligent people who aren't afraid to share that.

If I were to become insanely wealthy tomorrow, the one indulgence I'd allow myself would be the chance to fly everywhere my friends are, and have dinner with each and every one of them. The conversations would be awesome, and I can't think of anything I'd want more.