Various and Sundry

-The President of Iran, Mahmoud Ahmadinejad (I can spell both his first and last names without looking them up; no really!), is in New York City at the invitation of Columbia University. His visit has sparked numerous heated discussions by protesters, some in favor of Ahmadinejad's appearance, others most decidedly not. The nation is being treated by tv news to the viewing of a stereotype, that of New Yorkers yelling at each other in the street. Rightly or wrongly, it's how the rest of the nation views the citizens of NYC (when we're not solemnly thinking about 9/11): as loud, obnoxious boors screaming at each other in public. I'm sure Mayor Bloomberg is thrilled
-Good Rex, Bad Rex, it doesn't matter. He's the only Rex the Chicago Bears have, and he is "our quarterback," sayeth Coach Lovie. What are the alternatives? A 10-year veteran of questionable quality and a relatively untested rookie. And just when did Keith Olbermann get so smart? He very accurately stated that bad quarterbacks are a Bears tradition, with some notable exceptions along the way, such as Jim McMahon. There have been 13 starting QBs in the past 8 seasons and 40 since 1960. That's not good. How many different quarterbacks have started for the Green Bay Packers in the last 205 regular season games, 225 including playoff games? All Bears fans know the answer to that one.
-Speaking of McMahon, he probably wasn't a "great" quarterback, certainly not in the technical sense, but he played bravely, or at the very least tolerated pain awfully well. He once finished a game during which his kidney was lacerated. And he is the only Bears starting QB with a (winning) Super Bowl ring.
-Marcel Marceau died yesterday at the age of 84. Show of hands from everybody who knew he was still alive. How about another show of hands from people who knew who he was or what he did? And just how does a mime make a living anyway? Perhaps he earned a little cash at the Paris McDonalds, where he would have had to learn how to mime the question, "Would you like fries with your Le Big Mac?"
-Company Will Monitor Phone Calls to Tailor Ads According to this New York Times article, a media company will offer toll free calling to those who are willing to let the company eavesdrop on their conversations. Based on the conversation an ad will pop up on the users cell phone screen. I'm sure people will sign up for the free phone time, especially since no one cares about privacy anymore, as evidenced by people having very loud conversations very publicly when they really should be behind closed doors, but this new means of target advertising has an Orwellian feel to it.
-It's safe to be a Cubs fan again. I never had any trusty in Dusty and I thought Sammy was a cancer in the clubhouse. Sweet Lou is the man to lead us to the promised land. I am now officially on the bandwagon.

Please welcome...Autumn

How did I get stuck here?

Please, no head jokes

With all this fuss over the war in Iraq and who should be president and how will O.J. get away with a crime yet again, the one thing I think we can all agree on is that no one should ever find a snake head in one's can of beans.

Ok, brain, I don't like you, and you don't like me

Thinking is difficult. That's what makes writing- thoughtful, creative, discourse inducing writing- difficult. I avoid writing because I avoid thinking because I avoid anything that seems like work and thinking is, quite often, work. I prefer to do nothing, my rationale being that deep down inside I'm a bit of a perfectionist and since I'll never do anything perfectly, why do anything. I really wouldn't mind waking up everyday, putting on the same t-shirt and shorts and sitting around reading. And napping. It's only 9am, but I'm ready for a nap. My main goal in life is to watch "The Simpsons" re-runs at 5, 6, and 10:35pm. Alas, idleness does not lead to riches, at least not so far. I've got the idle part down but I'm still trying to figure out how to be idle and rich. If anyone has any suggestions, please let me know.

My World Series prediction

You heard it here first, folks (maybe): The Boston Red Sox will beat the CHICAGO CUBS in 6 games. There, I said it, I meant it. The Cubs are going to the World Series!

The Voodo Chile lives on

James Marshall Hendrix, better known as Jimi, died on this day in 1970. That was 37 years ago. Thirty-seven years is a long time, yet one could argue that his music, as well as the music of his 1960s peers, is sill listened to and regarded by many as the music of rocks greatest years. Part of that is certainly because of nostalgia. The baby boomers age like everyone else, whether they care to admit it, and as they near their retirement years they probably look back whistfully at a time when the world was rapidly, sometimes violently, changing. The boomers reflect upon whatever part they played in that change, large or small, and realize they may have made a difference in the world.

But another reason love for the music of that era remains strong is because it was like nothing ever heard before. The Beatles, the Rolling Stones, the Who, American soul from Motown and Stax, supergroups like Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, all changed the very notion of what music could be. While the music may live on partly because of a need for people to listen to what they loved when they were young and seemingly carefree, and partly because it was the soundtrack to world-wide upheaval, the music of that era is beloved still mostly because a lot of it was just pretty darn good.

As for Jimi Hendrix, he was a guitar virtuoso with a style really unlike anyone else at the time, or even now really. An inspiration to many, including Robin Trower and Stevie Ray Vaughan, he is someone who is even now paid homage to by other great guitarists like Buddy Guy and Eric Clapton. Hendrix was truly an original. And he was indeed a voodoo chile, voodoo chile...

Just how smooth are they?

For the 2008 presidential elections the Republicans and the Democrats should just dispense with all that primary election nonsense and simply go ahead and run Mitt Romney and John Edwards against each other. The American voter has always preferred the superficial to the substantive so let these two political Ken dolls have at it.

Just like the Cubs

Next year. Just like the Cubs and their World Series quest, the things I meant to do this year, I'll do them next year. Like run the Chicago Marathon and do the stair climb at the Sears Tower. I had thought I might do them this year, as those events would be an awfully darn good incentive to get in shape, but I didn't get in shape, I'm not running any marathons, I'm not climbing 104 stories worth of stairs. Next year. Maybe. Ok, I really don't have any great desire to run a marathon. I get tired driving a car for 26 miles, much less running that far. But the stair climb? Possibly. Next year.

And possibly next year I'll do the annual 16,726 Yard Run, which benefits the Walter Payton Cancer Fund. It's only nine miles. Only? I get winded running nine feet. My shins begin to hurt after about a mile and it's a couple of days before they feel better. But in addition to the 16,726 Yard Run there is also a 5k run/walk. I could do that. It's for a good cause and the event is held in Arlington Heights, not far from my home. Yep, I'll do the 5k. Next year. Maybe.

Let the tide in and set me free

I'm 43 today.

Leaf me alone.

It really should be green

In the days after September 11, 2001, Chicago Sun-Times film critic Roger Ebert wrote a column with his thoughts on what should eventually become of the World Trade Center site. His idea was to make it green. If I remember correctly he wanted the site to be a field of grass with no memorial statues or anything, not even signage. No signage would be needed because it's most likely everyone will always remember what happened. It would just be a peaceful field of green.

Fields of green don't bring in money though and that's one of the reasons buildings are going up where the World Trade Center once stood. That's not the only reason, at least I hope not. I believe America has an indomitable spirit and rebuilding on the WTC site is an in-your-face response to those who would prefer us defeated and destroyed. That spirit is what I love about this country. Knock us down and we'll get back up and spit in your eye.

We cannot forget though, that the WTC grounds are the final resting place still for so many. There will always be some remains of the murdered at the site. All the remains most likely will never be found. They are dug up regularly as the new construction takes place. Where the towers stood should be hallowed, consecrated ground, not a place with yet another additon to the Manhattan skyline.

The World Trade Center site should be a park. It should be a place where people can gather to hope and pray for a better world, and then go forth and create that world. It should be a place where we remember those who died. It should be a place where we also remember that there are people in the world who want to murder us, every last one of us, for no other reason than the fact that we are not exactly like them. We can't forget these violent people, even as we plan for peace and that's what the site ultimately should be, a place of peace. It should be green.

Rainy Days and Mondays

By 7:45 this evening darkness had fallen. It had fallen a good half hour ago. I sat on the couch inside our condo, looking through the balcony winder and watched small events of nature occur. Rain poured, evidenced by the numerous drops I could see land in puddles on the street below. The wind blew leaves from the tress and swirled them in the air. If they landed, I don't know, I couldn't see it happen. It was gloomy out. It looked as if there was a damp breeze that would chill your bones if you were out in it. It was one of those nights with an appearance that looked as if it could defy your sense of time and season. It could be April or early May or it could be now, September. Nights like this are a precursor to the nights of winter, a dead season, quiet bleak season.

Obviously, I'm not psychologically prepared for winter.

Summerfall breeze makes me feel finesad

Labor Day marks a traditional end to what people think of as summer and this, rather than mid-July or the dog days of August, is when I get the summertime blues. I get blue because it's all over. Summer vacations have been taken, temperatures begin to cool, the baseball season begins its ending and the football season begins its beginning. Now is the time of summerfall, not summer anymore, not quite fall.

I actually noticed signs of summerfall a week before Labor Day. The sun was still bright but I perceived a slight fade in the brightness. The air was still hot and humid but there was a coolness in the breeze, even on days when the temperature was in the 90s. And the leaves began to fall. Where these brown, dried leaves were coming from, I don't know. Leaves on the trees were still green so maybe these guys were in hiding since last year, waiting for the right moment to pounce and let everyone know the season of melancholy was near, if not quite here.

And autumn is definitely a melancholy season. Summer is dying or dead and the complete stillness of winter lies before us, lurking about in chill winds and errant snowflakes, snowflakes that drop through the skies individually here and there, harbingers of future white storms. We try to keep the heat of summer inside us, but by the end of November it's gone, baby. The sunlight becomes pale, a wan shadow of its summer self and the trees are bare and entering their dormancy until next spring arrives.

There are, however, joys to look forward to. Big Thanksgiving dinners and Christmas visits from Santa, walks in the forest preserves with a fresh blanket of snow on the ground and a winter sun making everything bright.

I guess there is joy to be found in every season. Don't even get me started on spring...