All the Evidence in the World

Mea Culpa! Mea Culpa!
How outraged we are. How upset we are. How could he do it. Look at him. He is such a nice guy. How could he do that to that little girl. He has such a pretty wife. He has such a pretty child. How sorry I am. How I have hurt my family. How I hurt my friends. How I have hurt my wallet. How did this happen.

These are not questions, they are statements. Statements from talking heads. Statements from lawyers. Statements from the accused. They won’t try this case in the public forum of the media. They won’t discuss the facts and procedures of the case.

But yet they will use the public forum to call the other side to the carpet. My question is why should I care? Why should I? He nailed a 19 year old girl. She is an adult. He is an adult. He is a millionaire. She is not. He says it was consensual. She says she was raped. Why should I care? Why should I care? He is an athlete. She is an attendant at a spa. He has a lot to lose. She has a lot to gain. But why should I care?

Television tells me to care because he is a superstar athlete who makes millions of dollars a year. He could go to jail. He may not be able to entertain us anymore. He may not be able to make money for all his endorsement companies. I should be concerned if other millionaires lose a couple million. That they don’t move some sneakers, or sell some soda pop, and I should be outraged at this? They want me to spend my money on their products. I don’t buy their sneakers. And I don’t like their soda pop. I don’t even like the game he plays.

For all the other crimes that are committed in this country, why should this one be anymore important than those? It’s bullshit. I won’t feel sorry for him. I feel bad this happened to this girl (if it is true). But there are worse atrocities committed in this country everyday. Horrible terrible truly shocking things. As far as I can tell, this was just sex. Why should I care?

NP: The Sopranos Season 1 – Episode 4: Meadowlands

- posted by TundraBoy @ 3:12 PM 0 comments

 
All Clear! Fire in the Hole!!!

I won’t rehash. Many of you know that this past weekend, there was a gathering.

Eating, Drinking, and Being Merry, was the order of the day.

As far as to the said activities, I’ll only elaborate about the launcher. To say I was skeptical when it was brought out is an understatement. Puzzled as to where we would be able to use it, is more in line to my thinking. We were in a residential neighborhood. I am not an advocate of wanton destruction of private property. I didn’t want to be party to anything illegal. I don’t need any out of state warrants issued against me; I have enough problems as it is. So when we started launching the rubber bombs, I took cover for a moment. I could not resist the temptation. It was calling to me, “Everybody’s doing it. It’ll make you feel good.” Not only did it feel good, it was like an addiction. I had to have more. More little bombs, more difficult targets, more distance. That became my goal…distance. I was the first to clear the street. I was like Sean Connery on Celebrity Jeopardy saying: “The Day is Mine!”

I think the best moments were when the Team (read: Me, the Viking, and Hillary’s Friend) was on the front lawn. We were rocketing shots over the house at first. But I think the point was to see the actual range of the launcher. I say that we reached distance of over a football field and a half. It was too much fun. So thanks to the Pisans by Camp David for hosting us.

…and now for something completely different…. Some of the current topics that my buds HHJ and Skinny have been stumping about. This is not me trying to pick a fight, but we just may have some disagreements. Get out the Box.

Chuck has clearly misjudged what Ameri-Corps is. And to that point he possibly wanted to illustrate the difference between his organisation and Ameri-Corps. Or maybe, just maybe his point was to get himself noticed. Why do people write to newspapers, magazines, or for that matter BLOGS. I would say ego. I like to think that I have something to say. It may not be coherent, or even smart, but now I have the ability. As far as Chuck goes, he would know the seamy underside of what drives people. He was in prison. That is a kind of animal I don’t know. I can’t speak to what drives most people to do what they do, but money is it for many. For me, I like to think I have a moral certainty that guides what I do. And I have made some serious mistakes when it comes to judgment and actions. I very well could have ended up locked up at one point in my life, and who knows what or where I’d be. I think I’ll give Chuck the benefit of the doubt on this one and believe, he was not trying to be self-serving. Ameri-Corps may not have been the best target, but now it’s out there.

The other thing is with Crazy Pat. Now I have read the statement/prayer, about the Supreme Court justices. From my reading he has not indicated that any of those people should die. They however should consider retirement. The spin on this story is incredible. It is stunning how the (brace yourselves) liberal media has seized upon this and twisted it. I am not an advocate of Pat’s or his ilk. But this was unjustified. Do I agree with the statement/prayer? In some places yes, other spots no. Do I want religious zealots on the bench? No. Do I want extreme leftists or extremists on the right on the bench? No. Surprised? Yes I tend to be a conservative. I am a Christian. But I think extremism in most cases is not good. I am against most “…isms.” It clouds your vision of the whole picture/problem/whatever. There are enough stupid people in the world. I don’t want to add to the number. The point is that the media likes to take shots at Christians, and we somehow seem to be too willing to step up and bend over. That my friends, is turning the wrong cheek. I won’t chastise Pat for his views. Nor will I lend them a ton of credence either. Personally, I blame the media blamers.

Like I said earlier, I am not trying to start a fight amongst friends. We have some differences of opinion, and that is fine with me. Unless we were talking about New Coke vs. Original Formula Coke. In that argument, there is no room for debate. Now where did I put my hand sanitizer…

NP:U2- Wide Awake in America: A Sort of Homecoming
- posted by TundraBoy @ 12:35 PM 0 comments

 
Gimme Gimme Gimmie I Need I Need I Need

I woke up Friday morning around 8AM and proceeded to get ready for my journey to Mecca. So after scurrying around making sure that D and Skinny were up and ready to go, we piled in the car and drove to the train station about 3 miles away. We got there in plenty of time to start acting like total goofs. I often take pleasure in having conversations that reference obscure facts and other whatnot in public. Mostly it makes people look at me strangely and shake their heads. I could just stand there like a drone, or I could talk about how my portfolio is doing and maybe try to get strangers to think I am successful and rich. That is no fun. I rather they be laughing or scared. So the banter was fun on the platform. Finally the train arrived. We boarded and paid our fare. The train then proceeded to stop at every platform on the way to 30th Street Station. It wouldn’t have been so bad if there weren’t a gigantic band of hippies already in our car. The hippy to sane person ratio would not have been bad if no more hippies got on the train. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Hippy after hippy kept getting on. And they all knew each other (that or they were all high), and started hugging. I was waiting for some one to start passing out daisies.

We finally get to 30th and attempt to get tickets for the train that is departing in 10 minutes, but no. Not this day. There was a line, and every dope has to be in front of me. One of my favorite artists whom I’ve mentioned before, Hank, on his Think Tank release talked at great length about waiting in the airport, I felt somewhat similar to him today. Maybe it is how he put it “the mentality of lines”. You could be a PhD, or a Wall Street guru. But you put that person in a line, and they are reaching in their diaper and playing with their own poop. Of course every one of those persons was in front of me. We finally got our tickets, and waited about 30 minutes for the next train to arrive to take us to NJ. I may have mentioned how much I hate the Garden State. It shouldn’t be called the garden state, it should be called "The Oil and Petrochemical Refinery State" . But I guess that is hard to fit on a license plate.

Anyway, I hate NJ. I recognize its existence, but don’t like it. The odd thing is I love The Sopranos. Maybe it’s because I know the Jersey mentality, and I get a kick out of these “Jersey” mobsters and their wacky escapades. Prolly more the fact I love mafia related movies and books and have even gone so far as to read The Psychology of the Sopranos, and I understood it, I think. Why do I hate Jersey? That is another story, for another time.

Back to the trip to Trenton. We get there and get right onto our next train to take us to Penn Station NYC. We get on and get situated. There is an announcement from the conductor, saying that the train across the tracks is an express train and it will get us to NYC faster even though it is leaving 15 minutes later. After a brief discussion, we decided to take the “express” train. We got off and walked to the other side of the tracks. This is where we met up with the conductor and driver. They both asked why we were coming (along with about 120 others) to this train. I explained what the announcement was on the other train, and as I was explaining, the conductors face began to register a look of disgust. He explained to me that, indeed this train was going to NYC, but it WILL NOT get there any faster. At that point he left the platform and as he explained to me later on the train, he went to the manager’s office to relate this incident. To say that I was upset would be an understatement. Furious, would be closer to the truth. I might have had a Michael Savage moment and wished that the other conductor “would get AIDS and die!!!” I don’t think those were the word I would have used, but if I could have laid my hands on the conductor from the first train, he would have landed on the 3rd rail and not gotten up. The conductor from the train we did end up taking was cool about giving us the NJ Transit complaint number. I’ll be nice and post it: 1.800.772.3606 We did make it to Penn Station. We did find our subway, again getting a metro card, was hampered by the fact that not all the kiosks were functioning, and the lines. Oh how I hate lines. So we get our cards, get in get on our sub and make it to the stadium exit.

I really can’t put into words what it is to see Yankee Stadium for the first time in person. I think I could have cried, I think I got misty. I had arrived at the Promised Land. Then hunger kicked in. We all got a cheap hot dog for a buck. The thing I noticed was that the vendor was wearing gloves. That made me feel safer about eating the hot dog, but I kept scanning his cart for some type of hand sanitizer, but I didn’t see any…oh well. I’m alive and that is what counts. We proceeded to the stadium and tried unsuccessful to dump D’s extra ticket, but couldn’t. Tough break. I was desperately wanting to get in to see Monument Park. So of course there would be lines and checkpoints and general disarray (and I know that security had to be tighter on a holiday). Thru the checkpoint, thru the turnstile, and making a dash to Monument Park entrance. As we arrive, the announcement: “the line to Monument Park is closed.” Dammit!!! Five minutes earlier, and I would have made it. Why did I have to have that hotdog?! I could have waited and paid eleventeen dollars for sweet sweet lips and asses in the stadium. I wanted to strangle the attendant who wouldn’t even register that a human being was in front of her. But the thought of Sipowicz’s ass, made me rethink my instinct. So we headed up to field level to see the end of Red Sox bp. I see that there is an area that we can get to and kinda get a look at Monument Park from an angle. I make my way thru the crowd and Skinny follows, I believe that D was looking for No-MAH. I got some pictures, and Skinny got some pics of me in front of the lawn.

We walked around the lower seats. I stopped every 100 feet or so just to look around. Just to soak it in. I just wanted to breathe in where Ruth built a record. To look out where Mickey and Joe played as part of a dynasty. To look to the outfield where Mr. October crushed so many to the history books. And to see where Donnie Baseball never reached as high as Derek did in 14 seasons, and walked away head held high. It was a bit overwhelming. The strains of our travel mishaps faded away. I absolutely love the Stadium. I love its history. It didn’t matter to me that the hated Red Sox won that day. It didn’t matter that I was literally surrounded by Bo Sox fans. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that I was there. I had a great time. I had my friends there to share it with. We had an adventure that day. A day at the park is better than a day at work or watching at home (which is what D and I did Saturday). Our trip back was fine, and had no trouble, just a lot of waiting for the train (no dopes in front of me), and one drunk guy on the train that hassled me for my Yankees garb. I told him to go mate with himself if I recall correctly. That aside we got back to D’s place in Brookhaven around 12:45 AM. Not too bad overall. The story could have been worse if we had driven that day…

Saturday was spent recovering from our journey, watching TWIB, the Boston/NYY game, and going to the Vet to see the Phillies smashed by the Marlins, with a fireworks show to boot. I left on Sunday morning, to come home and rest…. I think I’ll do this again next summer...

NP: Bruce Springsteen - The Rising: Let's Be Friends (Skin to Skin)
- posted by TundraBoy @ 5:34 PM 0 comments

 
A Vacation……From My Problems

I don’t get to take a ton of time off from work. A random day here or there, and an occasional holiday, but a real vacation for me is hard to come by. I took almost 2 weeks off around Christmas last year. Before that my last vacation came back in the summer of 1998 before I started with the Vil. So when I take time off, I try to maximize it. So in essence, lots of miles to cover and activities to do. Thus is the saga of this past 4th of July weekend. I actually started my time off on the 3rd of July, when I traveled to Brookhaven (a suburb of Philly) to stay with some friends at their home. Since I didn’t have to work that day I got up late (9 AM) and took my time getting ready for my trip. I wanted to make it there before traffic really picked up around Philly, so I left at about 2:30pm.

The PA turnpike is generally an ok road to travel, and for the most part this was true that day. I was talking to my Grammy on the phone for awhile (since I hadn’t spoken with her after her return to the US) about her vacation when traffic slowed down. It didn’t come to a stand still…but both lanes were just at a crawl. An accident to be sure, and rubbernecking ensued. Some big SUV had overturned and inverted (the front end was facing me as I passed by) along with the trailer/camper it had been hauling. Very scary looking (and I ought to know about accidents when you finish upside down) and potentially life ending. The police hadn’t arrived, or any other rescue vehicles, so it must have been very recent. Once I got past that area, it was smooth sailing till I got off the turnpike and got onto 476. I had to go about 7 miles and it took me over an hour (I know since I chatted with my cousin in CT for about 40 minutes) till I got to my exit. I actually arrived at my friend’s place around 5:30pm.

I had to wait for her to arrive home, and from there the beginning of the baseball weekend would commence. She was playing in a softball game that night, and I along with her husband were gonna go to support her/cheer her and play a new game. What game you ask? How about: Guess the Lesbian. I know, many of you (lets be honest here…I don’t have that many readers) are thinking that it isn’t kosher to judge people on their appearance. And I would agree. But some of these chicks…you knew right away. The wicked butch ones stand out. Some of them were real scary, but they had game. Some I wouldn’t have guessed they were gay if D hadn’t said so and let me in on who was paired up with who. Anyway, D’s team lost, but really were in the game till the last inning, when the opposing lesbians, I mean, team, scored something like 10 or 12 runs. It was unfortunate, but on a whole I enjoyed the game immensely, and a lot of the girls had game. We retuned to D and J’s house for dinner and await the appearance of Skinny.

I had Skinny stay with me on his way to Jersey for his vacation and I knew that he would be out on a date (and yes, it was a date dude) that Thursday, and coming over to D’s afterwards. When exactly that would be, was another story altogether. I love my bro, but he has no sense of direction. So, arrival and departure times are always subject to the randomness that my good friend possesses. As the hour was growing late, D asked if we should attempt to call him, and inquire of the time of his arrival. Well, the timing of the call prolly could have been better on our part. He had apparently been chatting her up for about a half an hour in the parking lot when his cell phone rang. We were prolly responsible for him leaving before he was ready (sorry dude and chicky). He finally did arrive in Brookhaven after midnight, and we got the debrief on the date. Now in the interest of this being a public forum, I won’t get in to the minutia of the nights activities save one. The parking lot. This is as a friend, and also as a guy who’s own dating history and ability to “close the deal” is akin to the BSI (so what I am saying is that your odds are much greater than mine) so I obviously should be parsing out advice. This was your third date. She has continued to agree to go out with you when you are in town. She seems to enjoy your company. It is ok to pursue her. It is ok to try to hug her. It is ok to try to kiss her. I wouldn’t go beyond that. If she tells you no, you know your boundaries. You are a man. It is in your design to pursue her. She should be able to let you know what the score is. After busting Skinny’s balls for awhile, we all headed off to bed, cuz we need to catch the express train to New York the next day….

NP: The Clash – Should I Stay Or Should I Go

- posted by TundraBoy @ 5:17 PM 0 comments

 
Too Much Too Soon

I have a lot to say… my sister graduated high school, my mom was in the hospital, my cousin was injured in Baghdad, and I took a trip to New York. Where to start. I guess I’ll start with graduation. My little sister recently graduation and as of this writing just returned from visiting the college that she will be attending in the fall.

You’d think that because of the inclement weather that was expected and forced the graduation inside the brand new multi-million facility, that something so simple as AIR-CONDITIONING might have been a thought. You are about to jam an approximate figure of a couple hundred graduates, teachers, the band (who was in full regalia), parents, siblings, other family, numerous well wishers, and other assorted white trash, maybe not turning on the ventilation system is BAD idea. What the hell do I know? It had to be over 85 degrees in the gym when it was fully packed. Uncomfortable, was one word that came to mind, unbearable for the band and the numerous people I saw on oxygen. The ceremony itself wasn’t too bad. It moved along at a good clip, but at the end of the evening I was really just wanting to get out. I think I have a grasp on what schools try to do to make everybody “feel” good about themselves, and apparently would have let the entire graduating class give a speech if they could, but thankfully, it was limited to 4 or 5 students with unoriginal, platitude ridden, self-absorbed speeches.

This one kid (who was the salutatorian) gave a speech that was so dull and uninteresting, I leaned over to my mom, and said something to the effect that this kid should either be an accountant or a trader (he kept talking about investing for the future). At one point in his speech (which had to be at least 7-10 minutes long), he said some nice thing about all the people who had helped him along the way. It was nice, and the crowd began to clap very loudly. But instead of taking the Constanza out, he continued on and actually spoke over the clapping and said, “I have more!!!” You could hear the collective sigh come out of the audience. I believe I verbalized my general unhappiness with his continuance, to which my mom shushed me. I won’t pick apart all the speeches given that night, because most of them sucked. Except for the keynote speaker. His speech was actually rather enjoyable and interesting, and I wrote some things down he mentioned, but I currently cannot find the programme that I wrote it on. Anywho, he was interesting, and his speech was short. Always a winner in a gym whose round temperature was approaching body temperature. My sister graduated, she has a diploma, and with that valuable piece of paper, I believe she is now disqualified from appearing as a guest on the Jerry Springer Show.

My cousin Josh who is over in Iraq was injured while out on patrol. He was recently rotated to daylight patrols from night. During one of his initial patrols the vehicle that he was riding in either hit a landmine or took a rocket. He took shrapnel and was taken to an area hospital. The army called my aunt to let her know he was injured, so she would not find out by watching the local news. They stated that his condition, on a scale from: Very Bad, Bad, to Ok; he was Ok. This is great relief to me, and to my family, the question of his return to the states is still that, a question. I believe that he’ll prolly stay in Iraq. My desire, as anyone who has family over in a forward area, is for his return, but we don’t get to make those choices, and my family doesn’t have political stroke to get him out. It’ll be a waiting game, and we don’t have any options.

In the continuing saga of parental health, my mom was hospitalised the Monday after my sister graduated/father’s day. I didn’t find out about it until I got home from my radio show that Monday evening. There were a few disjointed messages on the machine from my sister. She was hysterical and crying. I picked up the phone straight away and tried to get a cogent thought from her regarding the situation. Apparently, mom had been complaining of tightness in her chest in the early evening, but it had not dissipated during the church board meeting. So my dad took her to the hospital. My mom did not want to go, and thus, she and my father had an adult conversation about the situation and made her go to the hospital. At that point in my conversation I was ready to scream. Not out of anger, and not out of distress. My desire to scream and holler was out of frustration. It had been about a year out since my dad had his second surgery to repair what had gone wrong during the original triple bypass. And this is me being selfish to be sure. But I don’t need two parents with heart conditions. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life. I don’t need to lose any (more) hair over my folk’s medical conditions. I don’t want to be worried all the time, my job gives me enough to worry about. I love my mom and dad and I don’t know what I’d do without them, I don’t want both of them near the edge. So after collecting a few phone numbers, I stared making the calls, to my job, to my pastor, to my friends from bible study (I’ll make it there one of these weeks), friends from college, and family. Just sending out requests to pray and keeping a good thought. Trying to get ahold of my dad was another story. Hospitals jerk you around good in the daytime, nighttime is a whole ‘nother ball of crap. After getting transferred around 3 or 4 times I finally got to speak to my dad. He told me to sit tight and wait until the tests are done and we get some results. I asked when we should expect to hear, he said that it may be an hour or so. I told him that I’d call back in an hour. In the meantime I stared to pack up a bag for a trip home. I tried to settle myself down, but it is hard when your parent is lying in a hospital bed 2 and a half hours away. I called back and dad told me to come home. Boom. I was on the road in 5 minutes. I called him on the way and he told me to go to the house instead of the hospital. The next day when my dad and I got to the hospital, it was a long wait, as they continued to run test on my mom. I absolutely hate waiting. Most of the time I can be very cool about it, but I detest waiting for important things. I can wait for the movie to start, and I can wait to use the phone. But waiting in the hospital, not a fan. At the end of the day, the tests came back negative for as the doctors put it: “An Event”. Prescriptions for angina and acid reflux. I brought her home and she passed out in the recliner watching the Yankees game with me. She had the flu later in the week, but is better now. To all who prayed for her, my deepest thanks.

I’ll leave my trip to New York for another day….

To my compatriot at HelmetHeadJournal: some additions for the list-

Z. Zevon, Warren; Zombie, Rob;
Y. Yardbirds, the
X. XTC
W. White Zombie
U. Undercover
R. Rock, Kid
J. Jackyl, Jesus & Mary Chain
I. Indigenous
E. Echobrain
C. Cheap Trick; Clapton, Eric; Cocker, Joe; Cutting Crew
#. 77’s

NP: Kinski – Rhode Island Freakout

- posted by TundraBoy @ 10:43 PM 0 comments