Category: Life

At Last…

baseballEvery year it’s the same. As the fireworks subside from Independence Day celebrations, I begin to tingle with anticipation for the upcoming MLB All-Star game. What’s so exciting? Is it the thwack of a fine piece of ash connecting with the horsehide? 1-0 Pitching duels? Extra innings? Hot-dogs and beer?”

Hell no.

It’s the knowledge that baseball season is half over and that football camp is around the corner! Besides, what Chicagoan in his/her right mind is excited about baseball? I mean, we’re still milking that Blackhawks goat for a last few drops of vicarious pride until the dual abominations of Cubs and Sox pack it in for another season.

Well, today hope springs eternal because Da Bearsss report to camp, and the Big Ten (11, 12, 13, 14 and counting) Media Day opens.

In celebration of God’s Favorite Sport ™, let us turn to a topic that has been much discussed of late: Head Trauma.

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Why Can’t We All Just Get Along?

The temptation was too great. Try as I might to avoid the news, hoping in vain  to maintain my sanity, world events just keep offering up chances for the human race to demonstrate how unhinged we all are.

With you, I was saddened to read of the crash of Asiana Flight 214 in San Francisco this past weekend. As horrible as a plane crash is, it seems much worse when it looks like the cause points to human error. Unfortunately, the tragedy wasn’t bad enough for the uptight, busy-bodies of the Asian American Journalists Association.

Racist
Racist

You see, this past Sunday’s Chicago Sun-Times, ran a piece on the crash with the headline “Fright 214.” Now you and I dear reader, being innocent of prejudices, and lacking a need to grind the axe of the perpetually aggrieved, see that as a play on words which tries to convey the fear of the passengers, albeit a corny one.

However, the perpetually aggrieved members of the AAJA  saw that headline as a racially insensitive joke, because the airline in question is Korean. They saw it as the kind of thing Krusty the Klown might say, not the editorial staff of a major metropolitan newspaper. In case you missed the offensive “joke” like I did, it goes along the lines of, “Me so solly,” and “I likea flied lice.” Read the headline again and you’ll get it…sadly.

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What My Father Taught Me

When I was small, my dad used to send me greeting cards from work, just boyanddadfor the hell of it. They were usually funny, or sweet, or sweetly funny. The message was the same, “Hey kid, I’m thinking of ya!”

Dad was never a very demonstrable man—except when he was angry—so this always struck me as somewhat odd. When I quizzed my friends about it, they thought it was strange too.

“It’s not your birthday or anything?”

“Nope.”

“And he just sends you…cards?”

“Yup.”

“Weird.”

Weird it may have been, but I always looked forward to getting the mail because I never knew when I might get another “just cuz” card. It felt good to know he was thinking of me, even when he wasn’t around. At that age, I really didn’t know what Dad did at work, only that he left in the morning and came home every night, reliable as a Swiss watch. To my childish mind, life was good. There was food on the table, clothes on my back, a warm roof over my head, and absolutely nothing to need. I didn’t understand until much later how hard a trick that is to pull off.

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I’d Love to Live My Life…

…but I haven’t got the time.busy

I had a recent email exchange with a friend who was bemoaning their inability to get anything done because they’re too busy.

Think about that for a minute.

One of the more insidious diseases to infect modern man is incessant “busyness.” I think this is partly due to the very admirable trait of a strong work-ethic, common to most Americans, especially people with children. On the run from dawn to dusk, working, keeping house, caring for the kids, chauffeuring them to their various extra-curricular activities and so on, they exhibit all the symptoms of the disease in its most advanced form. However, in the rush of daily living, these things take on a life of their own, by sucking the life from us, often without our even knowing it.

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You Find ‘Em Every Spring

wormholeA wormwhat? A whathole?

From The Argus:

Council bosses have been left mystified after reports that a portal to another dimension has opened in a residential street in Brighton.

A member of the public reported to Brighton and Hove City Council that the “wormhole or vortex” had opened up in Montreal Road, Hanover, on May 2.

They made the report via the website Fix My Street which is more typically used to report potholes, dumped rubbish and broken lampposts.

The anonymous poster said: “I was recently walking my affenpinscher (a toy breed of dog) around the Hanover area of Brighton when I noticed that a wormhole or vortex has opened up on Montreal Road.

“On closer inspection it seems to be some kind of portal to other times, places and dimensions.

“I would have investigated further but I was concerned my little dog would be sucked into it.

“Is this meant to be there? At first I believed it might be part of the Brighton Festival but I believe it could be a hazard to the general public. I look forward to your response.”

They followed this up with a report on Thursday, explaining: “The other day I reported the presence of some kind of wormhole or vortex on Montreal Road.

“I went past the other day and it seems to have got worse – it is now emitting an unsettling yellow light and a large snake appears to be emerging from the wall.

“I am concerned this is a passage to another time or dimension, and if this snake is anything to go by, I’m worried what else may emerge from the wormhole. Can anyone suggest a course of action to take?”

Brighton and Hove City Council told The Argus they will not be investigating the report.

Thank your lucky stars you’ve only got that enormous pothole in front of your house to worry about!