NOTES FROM A FRIDAY AFTERNOON (AT THE BEGINNING OF JUNE)
grouting the tile of my
mind.
For your consideration: another curious collection
of thoughts, reactions, and observations that didn't make it into a full-length
post this week. So they're sort of like all those random vendors and artisans
lined up one after the other at the Three Rivers Arts Festival. But without all
the thunderstorms and torrential
downpours...
• So it turns out that the father-in-law of the guy who flew to Europe and back even though he knew he was infected with tuberculosis is a CDC microbiologist who specializes in the spread of TB. Ironic, isn't it? And almost as impossible to believe as, say, the father of a president who ignored intelligence reports and launched a disastrous war in Iraq being a former president who ran the CIA and once launched a successful war in Iraq.
• Oh, wait. Bad example.
• Regular readers of TWM, especially those who take a few moments every Friday afternoon to read The Wall, will have noticed that those long lists of names have been especially long these past two months. In April, 104 U.S. troops died in Iraq, making it our 7th deadliest month of the war so far. In May, 124 U.S. troops -- the highest American body count since November 2004 -- were killed in Iraq, making it our 3rd deadliest month of the war so far. Our 4th deadliest month of the war (so far) was this past December. Our 6th deadliest (so far) was this past October. Which means that four of our seven deadliest months (so far) of this (so far) fifty-one month war have come in the last eight months.
• Bushie, you're doin' a heckuva job.
• As I watched Meredith Vieira mumble and stumble her way through an interview with Kate and Gerry McCann, the parents of the four-year-old British girl who disappeared in Portugal four weeks ago, listening to her ask them a series of cloying, senseless questions about how they're feeling and what they're thinking and how their other children are coping, I wanted to crawl through the TV set, throw Meredith out on the street where she belongs, grab a microphone of my own, and ask them a few simple questions: Can you tell us why you left Maddy and your other two children alone in their beds in your vacation apartment, while you and your friends went out to a restaurant? Did you really think, at the time, that what you were doing was good, safe, responsible parenting? Did you just rationalize, because you were a hundred yards away and checking on them every forty-five minutes or so, that what you were doing was just fine? Were your own needs and hungers and desires more important than the care and safety of your own children? And, finally, do you think you're responsible for the disappearance of your own daughter?
• You should. Because you are.
• Note to readers who are thinking about emailing and telling me that I'm too insensitive, or that I'm being too hard on those poor parents: You're wrong. (Except, of course, for the part about them being poor parents.) Because, if anything, the rest of the world is being way too sensitive, and not nearly hard enough on them. They're too more examples of parents who put themselves before their children, who treat the children that they chose to have as impediments to their social lives, little personal accessories they can either bring along to events (like concerts or hockey games or R-rated movies) at which they do not belong, or leave behind with any old babysitter -- or, in this case, no babysitter at all -- while they resume the oh-so-important pursuits of their lives. These people may not have kidnapped their own daughter, but they served her up on a platter to be taken, just so they could go and eat and drink and hang out with their friends. I hope that little girl is found alive and safe and healthy. And then I hope she's taken away from those selfish idiots and given to foster parents who think her care and safety are more important than a nice meal with friends at the Mark Warner Ocean Summer Club.
• Need another example of how most education administrators aren't fit to administrate your pets, much less your children? Here's one, courtesy of the The Week's great Only in America feature: The Indianapolis Public School system is warning parents not to cheer when their child's name is read out at this year's high school graduation ceremonies. A letter from superintendent Eugene White reminds families that attending a graduation ceremony is a privilege, not a right, and warns that up to 30 police officers will be present at each ceremony to ensure good order.
• I'm no fan of treating high school graduations like your kid just won the Super Bowl or the PowerBall. And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want every student's name to be followed by a Texas-sized scream like this. But no cheering at a high school graduation? With up to 30 cops to ensure good order? What the hell are they running in Indianapolis -- commencements or concentration camps?
• The good folks at the Carbolic Smoke Ball are always working overtime to bring top-notch satire to the web sites and riverbanks of Pittsburgh, but this week, they may have outdone even their own hilarious selves. I had originally planned to note that this post, in which the Steelers finally prove how casino traffic will impact their gamedays, was the sharpest and funniest of the week. But then came this one, in which the evil (but admirable) genius behind last night's tunnel bomb scares came clear. And this one, in which the mystery of how Steelers' assistant coach Larry Zierlein accidentally emailed pornography to the NFL's commissioner and all 32 of its GMs was finally revealed. I don't doubt that some even funnier posts will soon follow, but for now, I have to give top honors to the Zierlein post, not only because it's so well-crafted, but also because, after reading this article in this morning's PG, I stormed away from my kitchen table, ranting about how it's just not possible to forward an email to thirty-three different people by hitting only one wrong button. I'm still aghast at the line of bullshit Zierlein and the Rooneys expect us to swallow, but the CSBers at least got me to laugh about it. A lot.
• And I'm not just saying all these nice things about them because they recently appended their link to TWM with the parenthetical description, A genius who's also a blogger. (Really. They did.) And, really. I'm not. (But it sure didn't hurt.)
• A round of applause and at least a dozen cookies' worth of smileys to the good people at Eat 'n Park, who yesterday announced that their restaurants will become even more family friendly: effective immediately, all 81 of their locations are smoke-free. I know this decision will cost them some customers. But I also know that, also effective immediately, I am both more likely and more inclined to eat there.
• Looks like LeBron James had his first real Michael Jordan Moment last night, single-handedly lifting the Cleveland Cavaliers to a double overtime victory against the Pistons in Detroit: 48 points, all 18 of his team's overtime points, 29 of their last 30 points in the game. If he gets the Cavs -- which really are, let's face it, just a bunch of over-achieving role-players riding his headband to greatness -- into the finals, he will have done what no one, not Jordan or Shaq or Kobe or Larry Bird or even Magic Johnson , has done in the last thirty years: take a team with no other truly great, or even truly notable, player and lift it all the way to the NBA Championship series. Yes, I know the quality of play in the NBA is only a shadow of what it once was. And, yeah, I know that winning the NBA's Eastern Conference is these days only marginally tougher than winning the Big East or even the Baltimore City League. But LeBron's achievement would still be singularly impressive. And, after watching him play in the 4th Quarter and most of overtime last night, I've finally begun to believe the hype.
• That said, the best player in the NBA is still Tim Duncan. And it's nice to see that, this week at least, the folks at Sports Illustrated agree.
• And, finally, while we're on the subjects of kids who live up to the hype and the best players in their respective professional sports leagues... Here's one more note of respect, admiration, and congratulations to the phenomenal Sidney Crosby, who yesterday became the youngest team captain in NHL history. All you need to know about him, about the honor, or about how much he truly deserves it, is that just about everyone in the Penguins' organization -- except for him -- thought he could (and maybe should) have worn the "C" last season. And perhaps that, after earning yet another historic honor, the nineteen-year-old best player in the NHL declared: I just want to be better and lead by example." Would that we were all so focused and mature...
• So it turns out that the father-in-law of the guy who flew to Europe and back even though he knew he was infected with tuberculosis is a CDC microbiologist who specializes in the spread of TB. Ironic, isn't it? And almost as impossible to believe as, say, the father of a president who ignored intelligence reports and launched a disastrous war in Iraq being a former president who ran the CIA and once launched a successful war in Iraq.
• Oh, wait. Bad example.
• Regular readers of TWM, especially those who take a few moments every Friday afternoon to read The Wall, will have noticed that those long lists of names have been especially long these past two months. In April, 104 U.S. troops died in Iraq, making it our 7th deadliest month of the war so far. In May, 124 U.S. troops -- the highest American body count since November 2004 -- were killed in Iraq, making it our 3rd deadliest month of the war so far. Our 4th deadliest month of the war (so far) was this past December. Our 6th deadliest (so far) was this past October. Which means that four of our seven deadliest months (so far) of this (so far) fifty-one month war have come in the last eight months.
• Bushie, you're doin' a heckuva job.
• As I watched Meredith Vieira mumble and stumble her way through an interview with Kate and Gerry McCann, the parents of the four-year-old British girl who disappeared in Portugal four weeks ago, listening to her ask them a series of cloying, senseless questions about how they're feeling and what they're thinking and how their other children are coping, I wanted to crawl through the TV set, throw Meredith out on the street where she belongs, grab a microphone of my own, and ask them a few simple questions: Can you tell us why you left Maddy and your other two children alone in their beds in your vacation apartment, while you and your friends went out to a restaurant? Did you really think, at the time, that what you were doing was good, safe, responsible parenting? Did you just rationalize, because you were a hundred yards away and checking on them every forty-five minutes or so, that what you were doing was just fine? Were your own needs and hungers and desires more important than the care and safety of your own children? And, finally, do you think you're responsible for the disappearance of your own daughter?
• You should. Because you are.
• Note to readers who are thinking about emailing and telling me that I'm too insensitive, or that I'm being too hard on those poor parents: You're wrong. (Except, of course, for the part about them being poor parents.) Because, if anything, the rest of the world is being way too sensitive, and not nearly hard enough on them. They're too more examples of parents who put themselves before their children, who treat the children that they chose to have as impediments to their social lives, little personal accessories they can either bring along to events (like concerts or hockey games or R-rated movies) at which they do not belong, or leave behind with any old babysitter -- or, in this case, no babysitter at all -- while they resume the oh-so-important pursuits of their lives. These people may not have kidnapped their own daughter, but they served her up on a platter to be taken, just so they could go and eat and drink and hang out with their friends. I hope that little girl is found alive and safe and healthy. And then I hope she's taken away from those selfish idiots and given to foster parents who think her care and safety are more important than a nice meal with friends at the Mark Warner Ocean Summer Club.
• Need another example of how most education administrators aren't fit to administrate your pets, much less your children? Here's one, courtesy of the The Week's great Only in America feature: The Indianapolis Public School system is warning parents not to cheer when their child's name is read out at this year's high school graduation ceremonies. A letter from superintendent Eugene White reminds families that attending a graduation ceremony is a privilege, not a right, and warns that up to 30 police officers will be present at each ceremony to ensure good order.
• I'm no fan of treating high school graduations like your kid just won the Super Bowl or the PowerBall. And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't want every student's name to be followed by a Texas-sized scream like this. But no cheering at a high school graduation? With up to 30 cops to ensure good order? What the hell are they running in Indianapolis -- commencements or concentration camps?
• The good folks at the Carbolic Smoke Ball are always working overtime to bring top-notch satire to the web sites and riverbanks of Pittsburgh, but this week, they may have outdone even their own hilarious selves. I had originally planned to note that this post, in which the Steelers finally prove how casino traffic will impact their gamedays, was the sharpest and funniest of the week. But then came this one, in which the evil (but admirable) genius behind last night's tunnel bomb scares came clear. And this one, in which the mystery of how Steelers' assistant coach Larry Zierlein accidentally emailed pornography to the NFL's commissioner and all 32 of its GMs was finally revealed. I don't doubt that some even funnier posts will soon follow, but for now, I have to give top honors to the Zierlein post, not only because it's so well-crafted, but also because, after reading this article in this morning's PG, I stormed away from my kitchen table, ranting about how it's just not possible to forward an email to thirty-three different people by hitting only one wrong button. I'm still aghast at the line of bullshit Zierlein and the Rooneys expect us to swallow, but the CSBers at least got me to laugh about it. A lot.
• And I'm not just saying all these nice things about them because they recently appended their link to TWM with the parenthetical description, A genius who's also a blogger. (Really. They did.) And, really. I'm not. (But it sure didn't hurt.)
• A round of applause and at least a dozen cookies' worth of smileys to the good people at Eat 'n Park, who yesterday announced that their restaurants will become even more family friendly: effective immediately, all 81 of their locations are smoke-free. I know this decision will cost them some customers. But I also know that, also effective immediately, I am both more likely and more inclined to eat there.
• Looks like LeBron James had his first real Michael Jordan Moment last night, single-handedly lifting the Cleveland Cavaliers to a double overtime victory against the Pistons in Detroit: 48 points, all 18 of his team's overtime points, 29 of their last 30 points in the game. If he gets the Cavs -- which really are, let's face it, just a bunch of over-achieving role-players riding his headband to greatness -- into the finals, he will have done what no one, not Jordan or Shaq or Kobe or Larry Bird or even Magic Johnson , has done in the last thirty years: take a team with no other truly great, or even truly notable, player and lift it all the way to the NBA Championship series. Yes, I know the quality of play in the NBA is only a shadow of what it once was. And, yeah, I know that winning the NBA's Eastern Conference is these days only marginally tougher than winning the Big East or even the Baltimore City League. But LeBron's achievement would still be singularly impressive. And, after watching him play in the 4th Quarter and most of overtime last night, I've finally begun to believe the hype.
• That said, the best player in the NBA is still Tim Duncan. And it's nice to see that, this week at least, the folks at Sports Illustrated agree.
• And, finally, while we're on the subjects of kids who live up to the hype and the best players in their respective professional sports leagues... Here's one more note of respect, admiration, and congratulations to the phenomenal Sidney Crosby, who yesterday became the youngest team captain in NHL history. All you need to know about him, about the honor, or about how much he truly deserves it, is that just about everyone in the Penguins' organization -- except for him -- thought he could (and maybe should) have worn the "C" last season. And perhaps that, after earning yet another historic honor, the nineteen-year-old best player in the NHL declared: I just want to be better and lead by example." Would that we were all so focused and mature...
Posted: Fri - June 1, 2007 at 01:49 PM
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Published On: Jan 16, 2009 04:50 PM
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Published On: Jan 16, 2009 04:50 PM