Dudes have to be better


So sayeth this dude, this girldad, this girlgrandad.

The recent hockey game between the United States and Canada for the Gold Medal at the Olympics was truly one for the ages. It was fast end to end action for the bulk of the game and Jack Hughes’ game winning goal was a beauty. The US got outplayed for a lot of the game, but it was a tremendous game, almost as good as the one the US womens’ team played to win their gold two days earlier.

Then came the boys celebration. For reasons passing understanding, the FBI Director was in the men’s locker room shotgunning beers as part of the celebration. He patched through a call from the President who predictably made comments about himself and took a potshot at the womens team and the consequences of not inviting them. The male players inexplicably laughed at that, essentially joining in the minimalizing of the women and their considerable accomplishments.

The women’s team and all the female athletes always have to make due with less and even the triumphs are smaller in scale, and that is wrong on numerous levels. Meanwhile, a bunch of millionaire men stood huddled around a phone, giggling at sexist jokes made about their peers by a shell of man who is strewn through the Epstein files. That is lame personified.

The joy of the men’s win belonged to everyone, but that triumph is attached to the President who only celebrates himself. It won’t be used to boost anything or anyone with his track record. It will likely be framed as dominance instead of any aspiration. They could have fixed it. The players I mean. I think euphoria of the moment clouded judgement. Anyone could have come out and apologized, stood up for the women’s team, who have medaled every time out, btw, and acknowledged the wrongness of that tell-tale moment, instead of blathering about community. The women showed up for the men’s gold medal game and deserve a lot more than to be just a tasteless, tactless punchline.

The Prime Minister of Canada knew how to meet the moment. Here, we are still bumfuzzled why the Bear gets picked.

Let’s be better, Dudes. Be like Flavor Flav.

Nobody wins unless everybody wins.

Nobody Wins, Unless Everybody wins


We’re often told, when you see something, say something, especially in recent years. A comedian I admire paraphrased that into when you see bullshit, call it that. There is a lot of that floating around these days.

I read a lot, especially when things are as awful as they are currently. I go and do my thing at as many protests as possible, making space for those to be heard. With the Friday General Strike in place (I couldn’t strike, so I’m doing the other things), I was reading a bit of the comments on news sites and there were a slew of predictable comments like: So they are getting paid? Who pays for the signs and a handful of other witticisms like how the frozen water faux cops are “doing their job,” when I doubt any of those “Rhode Scholars” know what that job is. But one question stood out, a commentor asked why, why protest?

Since there wasn’t any additional comment, I evaluated that question on a surface level. I go to register that I’m not okay with what is happening here. By heading out, I’m registering my complaint that the frozen water cops have killed people without recourse, wrecked countless others, that kids can’t go to school, mothers are giving birth at home and people are shopping for those afraid to leave the house. None of that is okay. None of that is making “America Great again.”

I don’t get to all that I wish, but this old white guy realizes we got issues, the bulk of which has been implemented by old white guys. The patriarchy has been needing replaced for a long time, but the criminals in charge now are doing a disservice. This isn’t okay, so I join kindred spirits as often as I can to represent that it isn’t okay, despite what the bots on news stations Facebook pages say.

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The end game was the second part of the why protest question. For me, it is this. The administration needs to see how well this isn’t sitting, that a corrupt, in for itself and nobody else government doesn’t have a mass acceptance or mandate. That disguising political retribution as some twisted sort of immigration enforcement tactic is reeking of intelligence insulting bull shit. The dolling out of mcnuggets like video of Alex Pretti kicking an SUV a week before his death doesn’t improve the administration’s optics. It actually makes me admire him more.

The lies offered in the aftermath of just that incident are intelligence insulting and even the bots who post about how he interfered with agents by checking on a woman who was shoved to the ground, and took a faceful of pepper spray by way of protecting her from further harm just make him look good and noble and his aggressors and their boss and the Yosemite Sam hat wearing co-playing Homeland Security look even more ridiculous than before and that is saying something. This is an undeclared siege for the sake of voter records and other rolls in a state that didn’t roll over to the President like a drugged labra-doodle.

I’m not concerned like Susan Collins (C’mon, Maine, fix that). The end game is to take a stand, to say no, to say it loud enough that the crime family in charge can’t ignore.

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In a bastardization of the Margaret Mead quote, never doubt the will of a small group of determined folks to affect great change, as it is the only one that ever has. Given that much of the press, most of Congress and the Supreme Court have all effectively sold off their collective spines, it (protesting) is one of the few ways of getting heard, or saying that’s enough. There was too much footage of young mothers getting dragged from their cars because the frozen water storm troopers felt like it. That could be my kids and grandkids. So, I stand up. As a taxpayer, I’m not a happy customer. This and a tsunami of other aspects from tariffs, to government funding of social programs to these occupations to border issues get me out, because none of it has been right, okay or even a good idea. The current administration cites open border policy is at the gist of the action in Minneapolis, but nobody ever specifies what policy they mean. We need to question, question more, we need congress to keep their responsibilities and not ceed them to stay in power, we need the supreme court to actually be an independent equal branch of government not the black dress yes men that they have morphed into. The thin-skinned nature of the administration has them trying to convince us a phone is a weapon (a weapon of mass illumination maybe), that six guys are afraid for their lives having pummeled one man to the pavement, arresting journalists for telling what they see. I mean when you see Bullshit, you got to call it out.

So, that’s why I head out. That’s why I use 5calls.org. There are many ways to stand up and unfortunately so many things that need questioned, despite an adminstration determined to not actually answer those.

Decisions get made by those who show up. So, my going to protests means I want to help those decisions get made, for my kids, grandkids, friends, neighbors and people I care about. I want the best of everything for all and this ain’t it, but it’s not going to be for the lack of trying.

As the man himself once said, “In the end, nobody wins, unless everybody wins.”

Macca


Sometimes you have to treat yourself. Paul McCartney plays a significant part in my record collection, but I felt a little priced out. A concert ticket shouldn’t outweigh my car payment. The day of last Friday’s show, some less than perfect seats were released at a less than obnoxious pricing, so, got to treat yourself. I couldn’t afford to take somebody else, but alone better than missing out.

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My credit card company was happy I pulled the trigger and got my less than perfect seat, and so was i as Sir Paul was in great voice.

As Warren Zevon noted “enjoy every sandwich.” As another slogan noted, life is short, buy the concert ticket.

Spur of the moment


One moment you are savoring sunday coffee, the next, you are headed to the nearby border for a 50 plus mile, multinational bike jaunt featuring great conversation, remarkable vista, miles that melted away. Indeed a sunday well spent.

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Sunday well spent

Spur of the moment


One moment you are savoring sunday coffee, the next, you are headed to the nearby border for a 50 plus mile, multinational bike jaunt featuring great conversation, remarkable vista, miles that melted away. Indeed a sunday well spent.

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Sunday well spent

Cheer, Cheer for Old Notre Dame


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The opening game for Notre Dame football is tonight. It’s the first my dad won’t be around. A lifelong fan, alumni and general supporter, he lived and breathed them until his passing last November. It’s a road game so there will be no Alma Mater playing for NBC to maybe show or not show. That’s a choice that would always leave him grousing if the network cut away.

Notre Dame Football has been one of the tonics as both he and my mom, another member of the ND cult, fought their ways through the ailments that would eventually take them. As Mom faded, we would journey over to the nursing home where her ailments would steadily invading to come back to Dad’s apartment across the street and watch the game featuring the team they watched together since the 1950s. She would doze a lot, but would frequently waken and yell “Intercept his ass!” whenever Notre Dame was on defense. If an opposing runner or receiver would threaten to break a play open, Dad would respond with a “would somebody like to tackle him, please?” He being a true study in civil discourse of football thinkology.

Mom and Dad passed on the same calendar day, four years apart, and it only dawned on me this week, that they both managed to get to the end of the regular season, but avoided the heartache of the headache of the major college playoff kerfluffle.

Watch a game when they are at home some time. The rituals are hokey, overblown, kitcshy, and endearing all at the same time. I went to one in person. Notre Dame has a pep rally the night before the game and the Notre Dame Alma Mater gets played there too and just like on tv when all the team, players, staff, coaches, personnel all gather arm in arm for the song, the same thing happens at the pep rally. The music comes up and it’s an all inclusive circle as I got swept up by two arms, a cheerleader who I would never have a chance with on my best of days on one side, and my mom who gave everything a shot. You were part of something bigger than you, a phenomenon that can be good for the soul.

All the years later, it gave her some normalcy in a situation that was anything by normal. With her passing, the game and the music was a little sustaining for Dad. It helped that the current coaching staff has the team doing pretty well, regularly in the TOP 10 for the past few seasons. We built a little ritual to fill the void, trash food and fixers of football teams, and the world they played in.

I’ll probably look in, but the obligatory viewing seems to have lost its mandate. I hope Notre Dame has another fun season lined up.

The Folks would have liked that.

Okay, Blue Jays!


Let’s Play, Ball!

The Blue Jays are one of the hottest teams in the majors right and for the past few seasons, one of the more fun ones to watch. It’s gratifying to see them rising to the tops of the American League East currently.

When they were in their infancy, my dad and I would make a trip up to see them play and usually lose the Reggie Jackson Dave Winfield era Yankees at the old Exhibition Stadium. The Ex wasn’t really shaped for primo baseball watching, so you could have seats in right field and have to do a 90 degree turn to see home place.

More often we would was take a tour bus run by a restaurant called the Boardwalk Cafe. You would eat their brunch and hop a bus to the game. The bus would be equipped with a bar’s worth of drinks. It was always a great time, and I think my dad got an extra lift over being able to sip a cold one while riding through customs. This went on through 1982 when college and part time jobs made it a little tougher to get scheduled. The restaurant closing didn’t help.

It was a lot of bad baseball, but it was the major league show and in the early 80, 81, the Jays were discovering some success. We did make a trip to see the eventual world champs in the SkyDome in 92, but the new stadium wasn’t exactly warm. It was more STADIUM than ballpark.

The Jays did a great job in shifting that with recent renovations to the now named Rogers Centre. I decide a few weeks ago, it was time to explore once more. After Dad’s illness, I wanted to resume and maybe spoil myself a little. So, I got me an overpriced hotel and a ticket to a recent Jays/Yankees game. I took the Yankees for old time sake and the experience made me remember games with the old man.

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The Blue Jays have really spread the fun from the field all though the place. I ventured in on a Loonie Dog night, essentially dollar hot dog night, complete with extra stands to satiate dog fans.

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They take their 50/50s pretty seriously up there.

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It was a thrill to see Aaron Boone play in person for the first time.

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Same with Vladdy, neither connected for a homer, but each is the type of player you have to pay attention even if you are just watching, you don’t want chance missing anything.

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It didn’t really dawn on me about the implied homage I did as I was mostly running away from home for a spare no expense for 30 hours prevacation. But I looked over the inhouse beer list and seeing the levels of Bud LIght was a little jarring where there are so many superior Canadian brews. Scanning the list of suspects, I could hear my dad tsk, tsking the beer lineup. He didn’t suffer fools or Mich Lights quietly, but would have dug the game.

The jays are fun. I’m going back.

The Tesla Chain Saw Massacre


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Just when you thought the corruption couldn’t get any more flagrant, a new low is reached with the opening of Happy Don’s Celebrity Used Car Lot right at the front door of the White House. Instead of our social security being secure, medicare being left along, any research being done in medicine, any direction in education, aid and the markets that engenders, we got this. In our nation’s history, one president sold his peanut farm to avoid even the slightest appearance of impropriety. Instead, now it seems to be a badge of honor. To get some fresh air and take a break from senselessly browbeating Canada, the First Office Holder turned car pitchman for vehicles that aren’t very good, are overpriced and mostly to boost his requested by nobody hatchment, who still holds the receipts from the government he apparently bought. Eggs (you know, the day one cheaper ones) aren’t getting cheaper and the shaky economic policies have really screwed most folks’ ability to retire, yet here we are, supposed to feel sorry that the wrecking crew’s ring leader is taking a fiscal pounding in response to his reckless, careless, thoughtless dismantling of things he doesn’t like.

“Hello, folks, Smilin’ Don here, are you looking for a new vehicle, something overpriced, unreliable and so unpredictable that you have unplug and plug back in to get it to go? Hell, have I got a deal for you. Just amble on down to 1600 Pennsylvania Ave to check out one of these beauties, where we have a wide selection of cars designed to make Pontiac Aztecs feel a little less bad about themselves.”

I started out the day just feeling annoyed at all the unprecedented bs floating around this administration, but somehow another log got dropped on to the fire.

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While none of this was ever about savings or trimming bloat in government, feeling sorry for the doofus doing the underinformed cutting just isn’t on my bingo card. I got dinged by people who thought what is happening now is comparable to what was done during the Clinton administrations and my history wasn’t up to date and I was partisan. I am a little partisan sure, but my history is just fine. The government reduction done thing was done within the confines of existing rules and appropriations. It was done over almost 7 years. Was it perfect? Of course, not, but there was at least a methodology present, which doesn’t seem to be a part of this mistaken-riddled, scorched early, what-do-this-do-who-cares-cut-it policy that makes this observer yearn for precedented times and these unprecedented ones are pretty, you guessed it, taxing.

Unpopular and flat wrong actions don’t win friends, neither does attacking social security and screwing up 401k plans with meglomanical, chasing hording, generally life worsening policies. The concept of public service doesn’t even have a plan. Collect as much money and power to keep collecting money and power, so much so, scenes like the White House showroom hasn’t raised more than a congressional shrug as of yet. He’s having a tough time selling cars because he is wrecking programs that Kennedy created to build that great society. Too bad!

Yet, so many democrats are searching for spines.

Why is it that whenever the Dems are in the majority, the republicans raise hell, kick, scratch, scream and whine until they get their way? But when the republicans are in the majority you just bend over, and take it, and not offer any resistance? Dude, it’s not 1993 anymore. Nobody cares about bipartisanship. We don’t want elected officials who just cowtow to this craziness. We want elected officials who actually fight. So either find your sack and fight, or resign and get out of the way.

Things are on fire and democratic leadership is writing a letter to be mailed later to the Fire Department.