Thoughts From an October Weekend

I've had a really bad month. I've had near constant Asthma which although never abating did allow me 4 days of prednisone-energy in which I broke both our our lawn mowers and slammed Nyssa's friend Josie's hand in the car. It has been a rotten time for me physically and for part of the time mentally.
I've learned things like, daytime TV sucks. And TV at 4:00AM sucks. And I have been broken of my desire to not take medicine or to at least not have my children not know how much medicine I take. And I have absolutely no control over my body. Here is a list of symptoms and side-effects from my asthma and all of the medicine, it is I think, incomplete: (If you want, you can skip this list of pity and get to my better point below)

Fever...Sweats and chills.
Ohhhhh the cramps in the feet. You know those 15 second charlie horses that are kinda ok, cause they remind you you are live and you tug your toe and they clear up? Try not clearing up for 45 min.
Constipation.
Dry heaves. There is nothing like asthma at the porcelain throan
post nasal drip. Front nasal drip.
Near constant cough, with occasional throat sputum. Now I have near constant throat sputum...or as I am teaching Nyssa, Loogies.
wheezy
Head and neck-pain.
Chest soreness
3am chest cramping. Look up Proctalgia Fugax, and then imagine it all across your chest,
swollen, sore, adams apple
I lost my voice and sound like the monster from Young Frankenstien... Putting on the Ritz!
Unable to lay down.
Indegestion.
Slight ankle and knee joint pain.
Major sweating
The need to sit when coughing.
Feinting. It is especally great when the first feint is in front of your mother in law
Shaky leg also known as scarecrow syndrome
hand and body tremors
paranoia and aggravation
and apathetic specialist doctors. Who do not apparently give a shit if you can talk, play with your kids, or sleep at night. But he married his nurse so he can't be all bad.

HOWEVER, and at the same time, I am really enjoying my family right now. As I walked into the room just now I type Nyssa was singing imaginary words in a falsetto. A kinda of female Gregorian chant and Leila who is walking good is now learning how to run which is like 2 years earlier than her big sister did/is...and starting to think about talking. Right now most words and things (and all animals except the cow) are Groooooooowls. Which is effing funny. If you ask her, What time is it? she goes, "Ghhhhaaaaaaaa"
Leila is 1 and a momma's girl right now, but when we get off by ourselves, we get along pretty good. And she has teh best and most enthusiastic smile. She is going to be a handful to keep up with and although that will cause me trouble it will also be good for me.
Nyssa is so sweet. She is funny and playful (and far to obsessed with weddings) and thoughtful. She trys and thinks of things and ways to make the people around her happy. I mean not always, she is 3 and dumped a bucket of water on Leila last night when Leila was sitting freshly dressed in the bathroom. But she is testing out not only the world but herself. She has the ability to shift herself internally, to sometimes address her fears or dislikes. She is great. Saddled with a lame father she has been very patient and sweet and kind to him.

I just find it interesting that I can be bored and frustrated and depressed and at the same time be thankful and appreciative and amazed at the great luck I am having with my family.

OTHER THOUGHTS:
I've had a chance to watch the bulls quite a bit this pre-season, and I've actually enjoyed it. They look pretty good. I'd trade Luol Deng. But, Noah looks to be in shape. Thomas does his athletic things sometimes. Heinrick has a ncie role on the team. And Salmons can score for us. I think Rose might struggle this year and hasn't played much because of a sore ankle, but the rest of the team finally seems to be maturing. FINALLY.
One guy I've seen and been really interested in is Taj Gibson a 6'9 rookie from USC. What stands out about him is how solid he is. He runs the floor, he plays defense, he passes and picks, and he knows where his shot is on the floor and he hits them. In short he has been playing within himself and being very successful. Right now he looks to be a great bench addition and a guy to keep watch on.

ISU beat Nebraska in Lincoln yesterday for the first time since 1977. They scored 9 points. and were able to turn the cornhuskers over 8 times (I think). But they did this missing their starting QB and running back as well as 3 or 4 other starters. It was a tough minded victory on the road for a first year coach that hopefully portends good things ahead.
Then last night I watched Gene Chisik and his unranked and falling apart Auburn team get it handed to him by LSU. I am no ISU enthusiast, but Mean Gene never wanted to be in Ames and bad mouthed the team he was handed, proclaiming he could only win with his guys. Maybe they never showed up, but Gene never won. ISU coach Rhodes has in his first year eliminated several of The Carpetbaggers loosing streaks. I don't know the numbers exactly, but ISU had extended in-conference losing streaks and road losing streaks heading into this season their success is a direct reflection on Chisik's miserableness.

Across the state: (really in Michigan) Uof I let a game they should have won slip away only to take it back with 2 seconds to play on what was just about the ONLY good pass by their QB in the Game. They were the better team, but their O-line played poorly, their QB was inaccurate and has no presence once the pocket gets tight. There is a lot of talk about big ten Championships and BCS bowls...and good for them, but Iowa is not an elite team.

I think thats it for now.

Apparently I talk about Steroids all the time

I saw those pillars of America's Integrity, The Baseball Writers of America, voted on a resolution about steroids and the hall of fame (maybe such a resolution is necessary sometime...I doubt it...but not yet, and not when we have NEVER had an appropriate conversation about steroids) the other day and it was voted down like 45-35 (I don't know what percentage was needed to pass the resolution 50% or 75%?) which means to me one day soon there will be a resolution about steroids and the hall of fame (These are the same guys who'll give 6% of the vote to a player in his first year of eligibility and 75% in his 15th...because, you know, he's gotten a lot better in the 20 years he's been retired!). I am neither for or against a resolution, but I think it will be wrongheaded when it comes.

So, assuming there is a resolution, let me ask you this: Would you vote for any Manager, GM, Owner, Commissioner (I had to add that for posterity, I hope you didn't spit out your coffee) or any other baseball official from the last 20 years? (20 years takes you back to 1989 when A-roid was taking steroids in High school...so you could probably add another 10 years to the question)

If you are going to punish the player for seeking success, money and fame and glory, when actively competing against other players who you know are cheating, How can you not punish the BILLIONAIRES who pocketed Billions of $ on the backs and shortened shelf lives (shortened lives) of increasingly poor (remember, these ball clubs have camps and institutes in all of these Caribbean baseball hotbeds...where they identify "talent" at 10,12, 14 years old...if A-roid is getting his hands on drugs in an American High school, baseball IS these kids high school, that's it.) players.

Is Tony Larussa, who won a world series with Jose Canseco and 2 with McGuire... a hall of famer?
What about Joe Torre? Who managed all those roiders in NY (Giambi, Sheffield, Clemens and I'm missing a bunch) and then Manny in LA?

If Dusty wins the world series with the Reds, He a hall of famer, and he managed Sammy and Bonds.

And what about Dr. James Andrews or Dr. Frank Jobe, who have revolutionized surgeries that have extended and enhanced players careers, but have performed those surgeries on players they KNEW where on steroids, whose steroid use caused the injury.?.

I read an article the other day about the myth of the over played baseball player. ("Here, via Matt Yglesias, is a chart of worker compensation as a share of national GDP. (I realize this isn't the cleanest comparison, but it at least provides a rough index of what American business considers to be fair.) The figure hovers between 56 and 59 percent. Baseball players' share of league wide revenue is only 52 percent, the lowest of any major team sport") this steroid hysteria, in the amount of culpability that isn't passed around, seems to me another example of the American Star system where we build idols only to disparage them. It also seems like it is being fed at the hands of a bunch of men (largely) who love something they are no good at (or at least could not excel at) and so want to play a role (and control) how it is run and perceived.

I've been away

I'm back.
I don't know why or what I've been doing for the past so long.
But the Cubs season started and I've watched hardly any games.
Which is the exact opposite from last year.
And now I am home sick Leila and maybe with Katy too...but maybe she'll be going to work soon.

Also I/we are watching a terrible movie with Heather Graham. Which is like saying I am watching a movie with Heather Graham. And I had such hope for her after Roller Girl.
Apparently, in this movie, she is gay and in love with her brothers lover. OK.
now she's holding her breath and its only funny if she passes out.
But she didn't.

OK. I need to go take care of the baby.

-G

KXNO firings

I turned on the radio last Friday and caught the tail end of the argument that resulted in 3 firings at the local sports radio station. Here is an article about the firings
My immediate thoughts upon hearing Marty Tirrell dropping F-bombs and threatening Larry Cotler, was to feel bad for Larry. I don't love his show, but he seems like a legitimately nice guy. and from the portion that I heard he was trying to difuse Tirrell's anger.

Tirrell is a busker, he's playing a game, portraying himself as the wacky, edgy know-it-all, and is not smooth at it. That he burst into flames is not a surprise at all. He deserved to be fired for his tantrum, whether it was on-air or not. However, there has been other fall out from the event,
"Meanwhile, Dave Busiek, news director for KCCI-TV, said Wednesday that Tirrell’s weekly sports commentary “Mouth of the Midwest” had been canceled. He declined further comment."
If you are going to have a segment titled "Mouth of the Midwest" then you can't fire the guy for mistakes made somewhere else...you are in fact advertising he will make those mistakes.

There were 5 guys in the studio, Kahn and Cutler--work together. Kenny Miller who worked with Tirrell, and John Miller who had his own afternoon show. Who was the crazy genius that thought it would be a good idea to cram all five hosts into a morning segment?
Radio people get into the buisness because they like to hear themselves talk. Putting 5 people who like to hear themselves talk in close range is a bad and combustable idea. You could see the train wreck coming a mile off.

Clear Channel first suspended the trio of Jeff Kahn, Larry Cotler, and Mary Tirrell before firing all three, (Kenny Miller has been off air all week so it was not certain if he was suspended or not). Again, I got in on the back end of the argument, maybe the last 30 seconds. In the wake of Tirrell's explosion, JohnMiller was completely professional, ready to be on air after the commercial break. Kenny Miller was flustered, but was on-air quickly with Miller. Although, his was the offending mic, since his first spoken words were said into a dead mic.
Since Clear Channel decided to fire more than the principle offender, Tirrell--no one else was reported to have sworn--It is odd that Kahn was fired with Cotler while Miller was not flushed out with Tirrell. Was this because they fired Kahn for accidentally pressing (or not pressing) a button thus leaving the mic open. What other crime would he have commited? That seems like corporate thing to do, ignore 14 years of service, for an expeident conclusion.

I need a title.

I'm sitting at my computer at PFI, it's 4:09 on a Friday afternoon, clouding over, and Dayton is beating WVU in the NCAA's. I'm tired. Its been a long week, a good week, although just now I have no idea what I did with it.
Sometimes I feel like I will never learn another thing, not that I am smart enough that I don't need to, full of enough sludge that I will not be able to. Other times, usually when I get among a new set of people, I feel bombarded with information. Mostly I don't think about learning at all. Right now I feel like I am on the idea freight train...and its moving fast. Which is nice.
So I thought of this analogy today while I was taking a dookie. I tried it out on my friend and she said it was a good one, so I thought I'd put it down here, while I wait for 4:30 to go get Nyssa and Leila. Its about friendship, but like any good analogy its probably analogous to other situations.
It takes place on a football field, in that in every friendship their is a point of obstruction past which you don't go (Initially I thought of this as a Sisyphean example, where friendship is like rolling a boulder up a hill, some friendship can only go so high, some obstructions are so large...the problem with the Sissy is that the boulder rolls back down). Some friendships go ten yards, some 20, some 100, whatever, and you realize that work within whatever area that 10 yards give you.
Their are all sorts of implications to this, obstructions move, whether like tectonic plates that slip or subsume, or like a line of scrimmage that matriculates up the field. And you could probably chart the process: Kelli and I started out at the 2 yard line, and then durring the slumber party we really progressed. We spent like 2 years at the 50. When she gave me herpe's I was like...you are so pushed up against the goal line.
You get the idea.
I go get the kids.
-G

Seashells and balloons

Last night I had a funnysweet time with Nyssa. Last week I had the worst moment of my parenting life so far, which is I guess an example of how lucky I've got it. But it was still terrible in its way, in that one thing is many things. One failure is many.
The short story is that Nyssa has developed a fear of mascots (and men in general...which is a different topic) and we were out at a theme restaurant, Nyssa, Leila and I, with friends and she saw a mascot. Where as moments before she was a social and excited as I've seen her, after a brief and very distant mascot sighting, she was shy and clingy and unwilling to have fun. I tried every tactic I could to re-assure her the mascot was gone and would not come back. i had staff explain it was gone to her. But there was nothing I could do. While i was trying to get her to settle back into having fun, I was positive and supportive and gentle. I was understanding and I tried to explain what was happening while not forcing her into uncomfortable situations (remember this is the short version) But eventually the only option that remained was to leave, to go home.
After she refused to let me set her down in the parking lot, after she was still frightened when removed from the area, I was overwhelmed with sadness. To an extent I've not really recovered a week later.
I know that she is 2. I know 2 is not forever or everything. I know 30-50% of all kids her age hate mascots. I know that I did everything I could and did it well. I know that although in trying to show her the "danger" had passed I made it worse, made her feel as though I would bring her to the spot of danger, the showing her what happened to the mascot was the right choice. I know I was a good dad, I performed my duties admirably. And all of that adds on to how sad I feel, because I failed. I failed to comfort her, because it was not possible to comfort her. I failed to keep her safe, because she perceived danger.
The forecast today calls for mid-60's. When I went outside this morning it was about 38 degrees, I wore a tee-shirt and was comfortable. I was comfortable because a part of me expected the afternoons warmth. If the forecast had been for snow I would have worn a jacket and hat. It still would have been 38 degrees, but a tee-shirt in snow would have left me cold.
I fail Nyssa constantly, (and Katy and Leila and even AnnieandMacy) its what happens when you love someone, its just an unimportant fact. You fail and you move on. What got me about the mascot fiasco, gets me, is that I did everything right, everysingledetail, and I still failed her, failed to protect her. It seems like a small thing, like my response is out sized to what happened, but it is not. you gotta trust me, its not. And I am not even taking the next step, that if I can't protect her from a mascot, how can I protect her from "real" bogeymen? Like death or illness or insurance agencies.
If you don't get it by now, I can't explain it better.

Last night Nyssa and I completed a puzzle together...The NCAA Tournament Bracket puzzle. It was a little like my father and I when I was in college. I would read the teams and Nyssa would pick. "Memphis or To Be determined" was the first match up, and i was worried when she picked TBD. It was the only pick that I actively talked her out of. All I wanted was for her to be able to beat Phil's mom, and Nyssa's National Champion is a reasonable pick, so we'll see.
Nyssa was diligent if occasionally disinterested. But I was a proud poppa. If you'd like to compete against Nyssa (and I) drop me an email and I'll invite you into my espn group, "The Magic Al's".
Named after my good friend Al McGuire. My good friend in the sense that everything I know about basketball, not much, you?, I learned from listening to him on Saturday mornings. I watched a lot of basketball as a kid, so obviously I must have heard other announcers, but I don't remember anything any of them said, except for Al.
He was smart, succinct, and funny. He started my affection for Marquette basketball, who have a fair draw, a fair chance to make a run to the second weekend, and for the game itself. this story from Wikipedia, is probably apocryphal, but also a perfect snapshot into Al's character.
"After college, McGuire played in the NBA, first with the New York Knicks (1951–53) and then with the Baltimore Bullets (1954). While with the Knicks, he once famously pleaded with his coach for playing time, with this guarantee: "I can stop (Bob) Cousy." Inserted into the lineup, McGuire proceeded to foul Cousy on his next six trips down the court."
McGuire, for me is like a favorite book. You read it and loved it and in part forgot about it, but when reminded can open to any page and be reminded and informed by it all over again. That is what happened to me, when looking for a name for my bracket group, I thought if I was going to name it after him I'd need a quote, and reading through a selection I remembered what an easy symbol of greatness he was.

I love Marquette basketball

Sitting at home sick and watching the Warriors in the Big East tournament. They sucked tail pipe in the 1st half, bad shooting flat footed defense they were pushed around by an aggressive 'Nova team. 2nd half they returned to Marquette, dribble--dish basketball.

I am really surprised at how much Marquette has missed Dominic James. I always thought he was a little bit of a chucker, prone to bad long 3's. But apparently he was the glue that held the team together and drove the team as well. Without him, Marquette is a streak team, sometimes they find themselves and play their games, but for long periods of time they scuffle and end up with bad shots.

The end of the game was unbelievable suckatage. Mcneal is getting bodied all around, takes it to the rim and is met by 3 guys. How is there no foul called on McNeal's dribble drive?
then 'Nova hits a bunny lay up at the horn, after McNeal falls asleep. How much disapointment can this team take?

I'll tell you what if they can handle some more, what Marquette needs is practice, not to play games. They need to build on the players that are currently playing.

Big basketball night...And I'm watching the Cubs in Vegas

Two of my favorite basketball teams this year are playing tonight, Northwestern (up 9 with 3:30 to play) and Marquette (down 3 in the 1st half…I’m fully going to watch NU and catch th Warriors in the 2nd half). Northwestern probably wont be in the tournament, but if they were they would be a team no one would want to play. Like Princeton in the 90’s, but more athletic and battle tested. They beat #7 Michigan State, #17 Minnesota, and have a chance to beat #20 Purdue. Plus they blew a game against Illinois. Which showed up their Achilles heel. They do not handle the ball well enough to survive athletic pressure in close games.

Cobel picks up his dribble at the top of the key, looks and looks, and drains a long 2.

People nationally have been ripping the Big Ten, looking at 40 point totals, and thinking the Big Ten is no good. What they are forgetting was the Big Tens pre-conference record. It seems to me a case where The Big Ten Pounds each other into submission, but I think come tournament time they will do pretty well. Purdue, I like their coach, I do not think will do as well they’ve seemed over rated all season long.

NU misses the front end of a 1-1. Just terrible. Up 3 with 32 seconds, Purdue misses the front end of 2, hits the second. NU up 2.
Long pass to half court, Cobel volly’s it forwards to a teammate who lays it in.
My wife wants to take the dogs and kids on a walk. 14.2 seconds!
My daughter wants to sit on my lap! “No. no.no.no.no.no.no” “Yes.yes.yes.yes.yes.” 13.8 seconds. NU up 6.
Purdue nails a three from the corner, NU up 3.
Thompson bounces in his first FT, NU up 4. Up 5.
Final score NU 64 Purdue 61.

Over to Marquette.
Brandon Burke huge hanging high off the glass prayer for a chance at a 3 point play to tie the game with 18min to go. Whoops, wide open 3 for Pitt. McNeal ties it. Mathews cost to cost, finishes with left hand and a chance for the old fashioned 3. A great minute of Marquette basketball. It looks like they might pull off the upset.

But McNeal takes 2 bad three’s and Marquette gets three happy. They’ve done this in the last two games as well, gone cold from three, and given up big runs by other teams. Tonights run is dismal, back breaking. In the blink of an eye Pitt is up by 15 and the game is over.

I want to make a case for Northwestern as a tournament team, they are 9-9 in the Big Ten, have wins over Florida State, Minn, MSU, Purdue, OSU, At least 4 and probably all of those teams are gonna Dance. I know, in that way you just know things, that if in the tourney, they'd win at least one game.

I'm dumber than you.

Not one person mentioned my Feb 6th post. My intention was one to expose James's love for animal bottoms. And two, to then post this video link which contains the lyric, "do you remember Rick Astley? He had a big fat hit it was ghastly." So it was, you know, topical. Besides Feb 6th was just around Rick Astley's birthday. Again topical. But I got busy so the follow up fell through till today.

Along the way, a dumb thing happened. I was scanning back through the posts, saw James' picture, saw the caption to click for an explanation. And so I did. I Rick Rolled myself.

AWP--Final

Saturday:
I woke up Saturday morning to Elizabeth's alarm. Which is something I am used to. When we were kids and I'd fall asleep watching tv I would inevitably wake up to Elizabeth clobbering the kitchen cabinets open and closed. The girl might be able to dance, but around the house she is as graceful as Baryshnikov's toejam. White nights indeed. I showered and took an absolutely amazing dump. Which really encapsulates the side plot of this entire weekend for me: my boorish physical behavior and my sisters (new-found) willingness to put up with it.
Elizabeth and I went to breakfast with her friend. A nice guy whose name I do not know. We went dutch (Which means Elizabeth paid for me. Thanks) and the dude paid for himself. the breakfast was disappointing, it tasted OK, but the menu was unduly limited.
Normally I wouldn't come back to a topic a week later, but there are three good reasons from my Saturday to revisit it.
The first is the panel that Elizabeth went to with Robert Olean Butler and Ron Carlson (and three other young writers whose names I don't remember and were pretty inconsequential.) R.O.B. was pretty interesting, arguing for the centrality of the short short in fiction workshops (and his finding that as a practitioner of the short short they crept into his longer works). I think he is right, as self contained vehicles they can be useful in pointing out ingrained aspects of writing.
If I created any writing philosophy in my 5 years teaching freshman comp, it was that the small relates to the large and viceversa. That the same concerns you bring into a sentence you bring to a paragraph, a chapter, a section, to a whole book. That is an oversimplification of a generalization (which I think equals a complete vagary) but it grows out of the idea that specific details lead to good reasons which allow for new insights. You can't write a good sentence that lacks one of those three things, nor an interesting paragraph, nor a worthwhile chapter...and on it goes. You could probably even cut it down further and simply say: specfic detail. But my guess is that if you centered your search around detail only, you'd be a successful as a dog chasing its tail. You need the other two quests to straighten you out. So I liked (and Elizabeth liked) Butler's idea teaching fiction, but the pieces he read were only fine. They were consciously noirish and although artistic, maybe not "new."
The real reason I went, the reason I skipped the celebration of Nelson Algren at 100, was to see/hear Ron Carlson. Elizabeth had seen him earlier in the conference and had come away charmed. My brother in law Jim Fullin gave me Carlson's Hotel Eden in like 1998 and since then I've read everything I could get my hands on. I would recommend all of them except his last novel, Five Skies, which the entire time I read felt like the work of someone else.
It is time to take my daughter to bed. She told me so.
Carlson was older than I thought he'd be, warmer and more self critical. What impressed me was that he was trying to get it right, that he thought there were important things to say about the art of writing and he wanted to express them correctly. It was charming to see him kind of frustrated when he felt that his words came up short.

Elizabeth and I spent the lunch hour walking down to Millennium Park, one of her favorite spots downtown. I had never been, and it is neat, in an urban way. It is not natural, but impressionistic, and it seemed that its great purpose was to open up the city before you and to allow the city to envelop you without devouring you. We spent some time watching the ice skaters at the outdoor rink you'd think would be bigger. And I thought about how much fun it would be to visit the city with Katy and Nyssa and Leila (or even just with Katy).

The final session I went to was devoted to poetry. Looking at the predominance of poetry on AWP's calendar I had pledged to hear no poem over the weekend (a pledge cast assunder by my own fiction-hero Ron Carlson!). So it was without regret that I attended a reading of 4 poets who were now writing memoir. Not really my favorite topic, but I looked forward to seeing the poet Donald Hall.
Hall had been a teacher at Michigan of my college professor, Tony Bing. And Tony had brought Hall to Earlham one semester and into one of the classes I was taking. I am dumb, and did not really appreciate Hall at the time, but I am persistant, and have sense come to really enjoy his poetry (and to a lesser extent) his prose. Ox-cart man, Names of Horses, Kicking the Leaves, his extended poem the book, Without are all nice pieces of work.
At 80 now, Hall had the sloppy appearence of someone whom no longer had time to groom, or was perhaps afraid of what even a safety razor would do in his hand. he did not care if his voice boomed through the micro-phone, but simply held his book up where his eyes could see it and read. To the charmed, he was charming, and his poem was nice. to my friend Kim he was awful. And maybe the image that will stick with me is watching him walk alone off the stage, as Kim said, "Donald Hall should stop writing. He was terrible."
My writing, if I follow my perscription above, to often leaves out the specific detail, and rushes over the good reason, in an effort to spew out the new insight. Or, lacking good reason, it clings to specific detail and dangles unfinished hoping that a new perception will hop on along.

A-Roids

At the end of a long catalouge of exposed transgressions cnnsi's Tom Verducci writes, "The 2003 list of players who tested positive in survey testing may become public and five of the top 12 home run hitters of all time and two-thirds of all MVP awards from 1995-2003 have been linked to performance enhancers [where'd he get those numbers? Why'd he pick those years?] But it's important to remember that what is going on here is the cleanup from that storm, the discovery and cataloging of a dirty era. The headlines do not reflect current events."[emphasis mine]. http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/2009/writers/tom_verducci/02/18/spring.parity/index.html?eref=T1

How does he know? What we know is that baseball still does not test for all of the known banned substances. Any conviction that the game is somehow clean now is wrong headed. Cleaner? maybe, but prove it. What we do know, is that we have owners (how could Tom Hicks employ A-roid, Juan Gonzalez. Jose Conseco and Raffy Palmero AT THE SAME TIME and not have an idea baout steriod use?), GM's,managers, agents, reporters and fans willingly looking the other way. Speaking of A-Roid, aparently he might not have merely taken tic-taks for 3 years.

"He [ Angel Presinal,] has been thrown out of clubhouses in Cleveland, Anaheim and Texas.

"He's an unsavory character," said a source.

Another source said Presinal accompanied A-Rod for the entire 2007 season, staying in the same hotel as the A.L. MVP, but in a separate room with the "cousin" Rodriguez pegged three days ago as his steroid source from 2001-03"

But in one sense Verducci is right. Pitchers and Catchers have reported, spring is about to be sprung, and once real pitches are being thrown, steriods and the topic of PED's will be dismissed to the sidelines until the next offseason. it has happened the last five+ years and it will happen this year.

Friday

AWP day 2: (This is probably a skimmer)
Friday:

1) My "Friends" Brian Whalen and Annie (I can't remember her last name...Binder!) are dating.
2) All Flyway wants for my conference registration is for me to sit at the Flyway table in the bookfair. Twice.
3) There was a moodle chart set up for the purpose.
4) Annie and Brian are dating. They registered before me.
5)I thought: I do not mind getting up. Christ, if I have to get up at 8, it is like a 2 hour vaction from regualr life.
6) I thought: I'll take the first booth time save people from getting up (also, I thought no one would really get up that early and so I wouldn't really need to talk to anyone).
7) Annie and Brian chose to take the 2nd. morning time slot. Together.
8) Like nested dolls.
9) or two mute swans.
10) who embraced necks and now are stuck.
11) like braces entwined.
12) They thought: We don't want to get up early. There is nothing that we want to see in the morning. We'll work the book table. Together. Screw anyone this time would maybe be convenient for. And we'll make someone else wake up early and s/he'll have to take a second time too boot.

13) It was Friday the 13th, my friend Ritchie Duncan wrote a nice funny erudite movie review for that, here. And I was sitting at the Flyway table at precisely 8:30am. It was nice and quiet. Elizabeth sat with me for a while, drinking coffee, and waiting for JoeFred, to come and share the table with me. He did, it was fun, flirting with the girls that came to talk to us. Giving away free stuff (the table had nice free stuff to give away, tea, soda, biscotti, old journals...and the great thing about giving someone a gift, is that they are beholden to you. You soften their hearts and they are not predisposed to hate me. And it doesn't have to be a big thing, it could be submission guidelines and a smile. They have to love you!

The moral of the story is this:
1) Brian and Annie are, my "friends."
2) Writers are mostly nice and normal, but there are a couple crazies out there.
3) Sitting at the table was a nice way to give me the courage to go and talk to people at other tables. They were after all, like me. Or I was like them, because I too sat at a table...joint-ownership.
4) I was going to get free junk.

Basically I hung out in the Bookfair room for the morning. The first conference i went to was, "The duty of the writer" at noon. "Learning" from their Nelson Algren mistake, Joe, Amy, and Elizabeth all joined be to hear about the author's doody.
Sometimes it is to late to learn a lesson. The duty panel stunk. Your duty was basically, "to the poem." I mean come on! It is fine to think that higher goods grow out of a focus to your art. I think it is a rather limited view point, but whatever, if that is what you want to disect, go for it. But don't pretend about duty, you are talking about effect. Title it: The Effect of Poetry. and I don't gotoit.
Duty is something else, it implies a higher calling. I try not to fall blindly back to Ed Abbey, but sometimes it is hard. About halfway through the talk I thought, if Ed Abbey was alive there is no way he'd be invited to this panel. But he should be. And if he was there, what would that look like. He would be powerful, dynamic, and ultimately...since he'd be speaking so far outside what these panelists were approaching...awkward, unwelcome.
The worst part of the panel, was not the panelest themselves, who were relatively charming and interesting...but not talking about duty...The worst part was the questions the panelists left FAR to much time for.

In which I propse a rule: No question should be longer than 4 sentences. Anything longer than 4 sentences is not a question it is a point (or maybe even the dreaded, by me, "take"). No one came to hear your take. If your take was important, or informed, or well put together, you would be on the panel. You aren't so be brief.

for the next panel, Elizabeth went to hear the Greywolf reading. Joe went to hear Deb Marquart, and I buggered about the book fair. My stratedgy when looking for booths was to find cute girls and tables that focused on fiction. I met some nice people, saw some really nice looking journals, and eventually Amy and Joe showed up with sushi for me. How sweet was that, Amy!

Basically that was it for the Friday session, Amy and I cruised through the bookfair one more time trying to see who could gather the most free pens.
Then we sat around for an hour counting our pens and seeing who could fling our AWP badges the farthest. Sweet.

Friday night was fun, we attended the Flyway party and then went to diner at Hackney's (thanks dad). followed by Amy and Joe heading north on the El, while I attempted to goto the Ecotone party. It was midnight, the bar was closed, and I was on State Street, but didn't know where my hotel was. Good times. So I walked north, called Elizabeth once. Woke her up. called her again.
And when i finally goto the Palmer house, asked the front desk for what room was mine.
I slept like an angel.

I Spent the Weekend

At the AWP conference in Chicago. Over the next couple of days I'll give you my blow-by-blow accounting of my times there (Click on the photo's to see the sites I took the pictures from).

A couple of words of thanks first. To Katyfullin first and foremost, for sucking it up and taking care of Nyssa and Leila while I was away. She made it seem like it was no burden or challenge at all. All of the fun I had was a direct result of her easy going attitude. To Elizabeth, my sister, for putting me up and putting up with me. To my father for buying me dinner on Friday night, even though he didn't know it. To Amy and Joe for driving me to and fro. And to Steve Pett and Flyway, for not only paying for the conference for me, but more importantly registering me for the conference. I never would have done it by myself.

A word about Mr. Pett, if you please. He was my major professor while I undertook my MA, five years ago, and he has been nothing but my champion ever since I met him. He has offered me oppertunity after oppertunity, and I feel myself deeply in his debt. More importantly, he is a tireless embassedor for Iowa State, always available to his students, and a great teacher in the class room. And to top it off he is a great writer.

Here then is my Thursday:

My friends Joe and Amy Doolittle did me the favor of driving me to Chicago. Picking me up at Childserve, we left Ames at 7:30, thinking we’d still have plenty of time to get to Chicago and get good work done at the conference that day. I didn’t really care when we got there, but I definitely wanted to see a reading from Nelson Algren’s Man with the Golden Arm, at 3. That was no problem, we rolled down 88 to 290 and Congress Parkway with no problems and were at the Michigan Ave. Hilton by 1.

I talked up Nelson Algren to Joe and Amy, letting them know they would be lesser people if they did not join me at the reading. They are lesser people today. So is my sister Elizabeth who chose some half-baked pedagogical discussion rather than take my advice. Silly donkey, she left her panel after 5 minutes (This was a scene repeated two or three times during the weekend, I would say I am going here. She would head off to something called Lithuainian extrodinary: composing the new sentence in web based learning moduals. To which I would say. Don’t goto that. She would and I would and then I’d hear later that she walked out after 5 minutes. Was it my fault? Did I ruin it for her. Or was I just butt ass right?)

I wasn’t entirely right about Algren. Elizabeth probably wouldn’t have liked it, Amy wouldn’t have and Joe only might have. It got off to a slow start, 15 people in a room seating 400 staring at a blank panel. It turned out the delay was for a good reason, we were waiting for Art Shay, Algren’s long time friend and photo-documentarian. The chance to see a longtime friend and contemporary of Algren was worth the wait. The Panel talked a lot about the Critical and political reception of Algren’s work, the FBI’s work to keep him from the mainstream media, and his blacklisting. The panel also spent a goodly amount of time talking about Simon de Beauvoir, the French philosopher/feminist, lover of Sarte and, in Chicago, Nelson Algren, who appears prominantely in her novel Mandarins. To the right is a photo Art Shay took of de Beauvoir, after Algren had brought her to Shay's place to bathe. Apparently, Algren said, "She never closes the door." So Shay had some warning. de Beauvoir might not have, about the next 5 photo's of de Beauvoir walking towards him, Shay said, "I have those in my estate, I don't want to have to deal with it while I am alive." So we have that to look forwards to.

While the panel was interesting, and I think Joe should have been there, I did not really get a new sense of the man, except possibly as a leader of men whose spirit was broken, and who then floundered for the ability to speak. If you haven’t, you should definetly read Man With the Golden Arm in fact you should read it twice, and teach it (and Algren) in every class you teach.

That was all the conference work I did for the day. Art Spiegelman, author of MAUS and MAUS 2 was the keynote speaker and I should have gone to see him. By all accounts he was great, charming funny and insightful. And best of all, did not take questions. But I had the chance to see my highschool friend Sharon (Groh) Vocino and so I chose her, and her red VW Bug over my own literary pursuits. She picked me up right after the Algren panel, so I missed out on the chance of talking to Algren’s publisher, and owner of 7stories press, Dan Simon. Which is to bad, because 7 stories is an excellent small press. But off I went in Sharons little yellow bug for my first ever car ride where Sharon was the driver. The 10 minutes to her house outside of UIC was amazingly smooth. We hung out at her apartment drinking beer, listening to IZ and waiting for her husband Gianni to come home from work.

He did, and after he convinced me to call up and invite my sister, we left immediately for Carnival, the most beautiful restaurant I have ever been to (the picture to the right does not do it justice.). The whole time we sat there I wanted to take pictures. The drinks where great, I had a sort of Maragrhita without Tequila and Agave nector, some lime juice and a splash of Cava to make it fizzy. Served in a martini glass with a orchid, it was pretty and ostentatious and really really easy to drink. The atmosphere was wonderful, and the four of us sat in the best seat in the house, a small balcony overlooking the main dinning room. It was a nice way for a poor Iowa boy to start his weekend. And it didn’t cost me a dime.

The Vocino’s dropped us off at our hotel, and Elizabeth and I went to sleep. Well I did, the combination of jetlag and my snoring kept Elizabeth up. Sucks to be her. I slept great, my finger pressing into my chin in an attempt to keep my mouth closed and my snoring down. See I do care.

A Foot is About 15 Inches

Here is a link to A-Roid's weasily and rather stunning admission that he used illegal performance enhancing drugs. This is nothing but excuses piled upon excuses. He refuses to say what he used, or where he got it...and he tries to imply that it was merely something you could get at GNC...
All the while claiming that he was clean before and after the three years for which he was caught.
I straight out do not believe that. There is no reason to.

I love the reason he gave for using PED's, that he was under tremendous pressure to perform in Texas. he was under that pressure because he signed with the absolute greediest agent and and held a one team bidding war. He insisted on becoming not just the highest paid athlete in league history, but in the 8 seasons since that contract was signed, no player has earned more in a year than him. That is a ceiling of earnings un-heard of in professional sports. He may very well have been under tremendous pressure (I choose to believe he was already cheating and had been since high school...his claim that he never heard of Steroids or any PED while a young player seems ridiculous. As a freshman in high school in 1987, there were athlete's in my homeroom who took steroids...) But all of the pressure he was under he placed upon himself.

Maybe my favorite quote during the interview was, "I would be really pissed of, I want to change, I want to do things to influence children."

I am not a reporter and I don't care to track down all of A-Roid's false claims and lie's...but here is a nice one...from Gene Wojciechowski "Rodriguez said Monday he didn't definitively know whether he was one of the 104 players who had failed the 2003 drug test. But a source told ESPN on Saturday that A-Rod has been aware of the test results for nearly five years. The Mitchell report also said all 104 players were notified. Whom do you believe? Sorry, but Rodriguez no longer gets the benefit of the doubt" (http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/columns/story?columnist=wojciechowski_gene&id=3895129&sportCat=mlb).

Basically to me, if you are caught in a lie during your "apology" that nullifies the whole apology.

When asked, so you took PED's between 2001-2003 A-Roid said, "Thats about right." About is a niffty little word. A foot is about 15 inches. A-Roids whole conversation was intended to ensure his legacy. Was to state his claim that his numbers great "before" he took PED's and after he took PED's. But lets be very clear about this: We have no idea when he took them, and no way to know that he ever stoped taking them. We do know one thing with certainty, he has yet to stop lying about his envolvement with PED's

One final thing, Since baseball has become obsessed with PED's over the last 10 or so years, the topic has never been treated correctly. Initally (and largely still) only big boppers were considered potental cheaters. But looking at the list of identified users, around 50% have been pitchers, and a huge numbe have been little utility guys. PED's are not about adding bulk, they are about aiding recovery time, aiding healing time, enhancing concentration and performance. As a result every player no matter what he looks like is a possible user. It is impossible seperate the wheat from the chaff. But reporters and commentators continue to hold out the stick of a clean game, the ending to Wojcichowski's artical is no different, Referring to the 103 players who tested positive for PED's along with A-Roid, he writes,"Rodriguez won't be the last ballplayer to fall on his bat. A-Rod's admission makes it easier for other players to step forward. For this, and only this, Rodriguez deserves applause. One down, but 103 more names to go."

The inference is that there are only 103 names. But this test was negotiated and announced (and supposedly confidental), you had to be a braisin moron to fail the test. It tested only the players urine and looked only for previously identified substances. Balco had not yet been heard of. 104 players were lazy idiots who blindly put thier faith in confidentiality. Countless more would have cycled off their drugs and not tested positive, or used substances the leauge may still have never heard of.

To me it comes down to this: Any major league player from the last 20+ years is a likely user of performance enhancing drugs.

I stole this photo from Brad's facebook page. I think it is perfectly clear why I was able to work for James. Click on the photo for further explanation:

Super Bowl Thoughts

It was a good game with a really great ending. I missed The Steelers last drive because I was being a responsible father and husband. I have 2 main thoughts.
1) Harrison was the MVP, no one else was even close. His interception and return for the touchdown. Was at the very least a 14 point swing, and the run back itself was unbelievable. (Holmes was great, but he was not better than Fitzgerald for the Cardinals...nor was "Ben" better than warner...Shouldn't the MVP outperform the competition?) In addition Harrison got constant pressure on Warner throughout the game (drawing 3 holding penalties on ex-bear Mike Gandy).

2) I can not get the image of Bruce Springsteen's crotch flying out of the TV screen. His movement was every bit as "obscene" as Janet Jackson's costume malfunction. We didn't actually see cock, but nothing was left to the imagination. I have to believe if he was a girl in hot pants, the publics reaction would have been outrage.
I am not outraged by either Bruce or Jackson's performance, but I'll not forget either moment.

I heard today there was not evolution

Who knows?

For the last, about, 10 years I have worn the same boot. The Skywalker by Vasque.

These are the best boot ever. And for the last 5 years I never tied them up, just tucking the laces down into to boot and going. Like all-terrain slippers. This winter however, I have tied them constantly.
What happened? have I gotten old, matoore (like Johnny Frantzen spells it).
I realized just minutes ago, that with the horrible weather outside, the 2 straight months of below freezing temperature, the 2+ feet of frozen type precipitation, that I've been forced to tie my boots. In years past, we'd have freezes and thaws. We'd have snows and melts. so that if one day it made sense to spend the time tying my boots, the next day it didn't.
Now, with the preponderance of bad weather (preponderance of evidence) I have been taught to tie my boots.
I have, in otherwords, I have adapted