When is it safe to joke about something uncomfortable?

...like making love in the back of a Volkswagen, sometimes what makes things uncomfortable is also what makes them humorous. The question in the minds of 7DB's multitude of followers is: when is it 'too soon'?

(For clarity: 'multitude' is defined as the vast array of people the author of this column believes actually read it. In reality, the number ends up being much, much smaller.)

Recent examples include jokes about Penn State and some recent deaths of famous people. A sampling:

-The whole Penn State mess makes me so uncomfortable, I need a long, hot shower.
-(about the Conrad Murray trial) I'm glad Michael Jackson isn't alive to see this.
-I hate eating too much turkey. It always makes me want to rape Indians, then take a nap.

As you can see, sometimes bad taste is a borderline call, while other times it is a clear line crossed. Either way, the areas of sensitive / edgy / offensive humor are often tested by people who lack compunction, as well as by those with a sense of humor that is best defined as 'ribald'. Defining when something is funny is a bit more subjective...

It is safe to say that humor relating to things like the Holocaust or homosexuality are guaranteed to offend the vast majority of any audience. It is also accurate to take shots at those who put themselves in the line of fire (Kardashian X, Mitt Romney, etc.) is non-offensive, as it has context. What about that middle ground?

No one who has ever been a victim of sexual abuse is going to find jokes about Penn State funny, nor those who believe that the former coach involved is mentally ill. To the rest of society, the laugh of the guilty is a common thing to witness. For those who are directly affected by a story or source of humor like that, there will never be a time where this is OK. Common decency says that no one should laugh at things that offend others, as it is indecent and cruel.

Which it is, and when one feels life being cruel...sometimes that's an OK thing to experience.

Acting on any type of 'joke' like that, or even repeating it  is still not excusable, but a laugh in private has to be acknowledged. If one man makes a joke about the size of another man's...er, manhood, it can be interpreted as homophobic, spiteful or just unnecessary. It can also be interpreted as a commentary on why that guy bought a 1986 Corvette and painted it cherry red.

No one has the right to be critical of what makes another laugh.

This statement is prefaced by the obvious: anyone who uses this kind of humor to demean or belittle is out of line, and anyone who seeks out a specific subject matter in a joke (race, religion, etc) is exposing themselves and the bigotry. But in the course of life, what harm does the statement "Adolf Hitler gave lousy moustache rides" do to anyone?

7DB wrestles with this concept, as those aforementioned 'guilty laughs' have often come during times of stress, where anything that was not related to that source of stress could be seen as a type of release. Laughter heals achy souls, with the content of little consequence at the time.

It is also important to recognize your surroundings when this type of humor is found. A room full of women who work and pay their own way in life is probably not the place for a joke about the similarities between a woman and a bag of chips. (Punchline: They both better come with a damned sandwich) Those women would be insulted (and rightfully so) by such statements, but the intent is not to harm. It does do harm, however, leading to the 'guilty laughs'.

Most who indulge in this kind of rhetoric don't wish any harm, but need to be a little less politically correct to release their own tensions. This is not a defense, but an acknowledgement. 7DB would never dare tell a joke of that nature around Mrs. 7DB, and not solely for fear of retribution, but as a matter of respect. With that said, there is a humorous aspect to the statement, if only in knowing its source or historical context.

Allow a dalliance into that specific joke for a moment... there was a time in the last few decades where that kind of misogyny was commonplace, and men were shamed if they didn't participate in that kind of demeaning joking. At home, very few (if any) of those men would have ever addressed the mother of their children in such a manner. Out with the boys at a Stag party? Altogether different social mores.

To close this section of the column out, consider the topics that are still acceptable to make fun of:

-Foibles of politicians (including infidelity and digital photos being transmitted)
-White men dancing
-People's jobs that involve wearing a uniform (military or other noble, selfless professions excepted)
-Sexual proclivities of celebrities and athletes
-Drug use of recovering celebrities and athletes
-Male obsession with female body parts
-Male obsession with male body parts (their own)
-Intelligence of house pets
-Adult humor purported to come from a child's mouth in an innocent fashion
-Clergy members sexuality and proclivities

We are a society that enjoys tearing down the heroes we build, and part of that process is allowing Jay Leno to go on TV and read jokes that someone else wrote for him. (See the veiled dig?) We, the people, no longer publicly see the humor in making light of those who are not at the top of the heap... and this is a good thing overall. Just don't be too quick to judge those who find a well-crafted joke funny, despite their better senses about its topic matter. We're not quite done evolving yet.

(Oh yeah, and cavemen.)

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Many of those tidbits referenced above came off of various Twitter feeds. Some comedians and actors have taken to this format to tell the jokes they cannot tell on their national sit-com gigs, and this satisfies their extended fan base. That base consists of people who will not turn something off solely because that person is on it, not the people who will pay to see those same people on a regular basis. (That base for 7DB: Tim Allen, 75% of SportsCenter anchors, either Gumbel brother, every Baldwin not named Alec and all people who have acted in John Grisham movies)

Even then, the content is being thrown by the sender, not requested by the recipient. Moral of this story: Guilt following a laugh is true on both counts. You should feel bad, but it's still funny. Don't misunderstand, there is plenty of very funny stuff that is in the safe zone, but each person's safe zone is different and specific to their experiences. You may know someone who was beaten into a snowbank with a wiffle ball bat, while extremely intoxicated and wearing a Raggedy Andy costume. They may not appreciate the humor in a joke about....well, the words just written. It doesn't make it less funny, but since that is too specific an example, that joke can slide right on by the censors.

The current king of this kind of humor, due in large part to his appearance on the Roast of Charlie Sheen on Comedy Central, is Anthony Jeselnik. He is as offensive as it gets, and it uses very little profanity to do so. To quote him feels like a copyright violation, but his level of darkness makes most of the offensive comics out there have to scrap their material and start fresh. Dude is dark.

His latest Tweet: Now that police have eliminated Robert Wagner as a suspect in Natalie Wood's death, they've narrowed it down to Water.

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The towns of America have names long and short, symbolic and silly, but none of them matters a whit, unless one can find a way to be offended by them.

Case in point: There is a small town in Texas, less than 500 citizens, named Turkey. Turkey, Texas. About the only time of the year anyone more than 20 miles away acknowledges the place is during Thanksgiving. (One would assume, of course)

Now, the mentally-stunted folks at PETA have decided to stop telling people to eat their family dog for Thanksgiving, and re-focused their efforts on getting the small burg to change their name. From Turkey.

(simmering) (breathing) (contemplating) (simmering) (boiling) (STEAMING)

A list of problems:

-How does an organization that lives with an acronym that sounds like the marriage of the words 'pet' and 'eater', pronounced with a New England accent, muster the grapes to question what someone else names themselves?
-Would anyone outside of the 806 area code even know about this place if these human remnants didn't bring inane issues like this to light? (Look it up. You know you want to.)
-Why is it OK for these folks to offend and obfuscate, while the jokesters I referenced above are seen as insensitive? If this were a comedy bit and not 'ripped from the headlines', many would be enjoying some guilty laughs as we speak. Could anyone really make up this kind of... (editing self) (editing word choices that would have been OK in 1988) (editing topic matter as to not offend groups with hyphenated descriptions) ...hog wash?

Damnit. Now 7DB has gone and offend pig farmers...

Burn in Hades, PETA. And soon.

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These are Segways. This is a segue. Questions?

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For Turkey Day festivities, Young Seven and Mr. and Mrs. 7DB will join friends at a large gathering, involving some 20 or so people. As guests, the Family is preparing a delicious stuffing, with the tasty and sweet King's Hawaiian bread as its base.

After assembling a list, the trip to the grocery store became eventful when having to acquire enough of that delightful baked good to fulfill the recipe, after multiplied out to serve 20. The looks and statements of amazement and disbelief brought this columnist to wonder openly about anything ever at a grocery store, not involving a violent crime, that has ever distracted from the process of gathering food.

Not sure about the readership, but food is item one through seventy-eight on the list generated at Casa du 7DB on Grocery Day. Other people's shopping habits? Never made the list...

Do they talk about the guy that bought 600 King's Hawaiian rolls when they get home? "Honey, you're never gonna believe what I saw at Grocery Mart today! This guy...he had more rolls than I've ever seen!" Maybe if the person grew up in Eastern Europe in the '40s it would be comprehensible, but hearing seven or eight people openly gawk at a barely-substantial acquisition of baked goods at the place where such things are designed to happen left this columnist flummoxed. Just imagine being at the car dealership: "Look! Over there! That lady is test driving her third car! What, does she think she's Jay Leno or something?" (Yes, two Leno digs in one column. Not a fan.) Or better yet, the doctor's office: "Bobby, it's not nice to stare at the man's goiter. It is a big one though, huh?" Just unnerving. Makes a piece of legislation mandating cable for the masses seem like a better idea every time the thought crosses...

(For the record, the rolls are really small. Needed that many for the recipe, not just to fill the chef's large belly. Promise.)

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Lastly, baseball. Somehow, the most stable and financially solid of the major sports (those words fill people with anxiety) negotiated a decade-long Collective Bargaining Agreement with their player's union. When some pile of schmucks like MLB owners can make David Stern (NBA commissioner) look like a loser, you know the sport is in a bad way. Stern, kick Billy Hunter and Derek Fisher in the ***, get them back to the bargaining table and get the deal done. We are all slowly forgetting what the acronym you represent stands for...

Baseball writers also did something they are not known for doing consistently, in picking Detroit Tiger pitcher Justin Verlander as the American League Most Valuable Player.

The significance in this is pitchers rarely win the award, as the Cy Young Award is dedicated to pitchers. The MVP has not gone to a pitcher since 1992, and not a starting pitcher since HGH user / felon / hothead Roger Clemens won it before steroids took over his entire existence, back in 1986. It is even more rare that it is the right choice instead of the popular one.

Verlander put up excellent statistics, but the one that stands out is the team's record when he started a game. Verlander starts: 25 wins, 9 losses. Others on team start: 70 wins, 58 losses.

The team was barely above average without him, and a significant favorite with him. Winner. Congrats to him, and happy tryptophan comas to all of you.
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Taking advantage of old people when they die...

...and other dirty secrets of the slimy undercarriage of society. The people that do this? Well, they're part of the 99%.

I'll get to them in a minute. First, a few thoughts on having children and pets simultaneously...

When Casa du 7DB was first claimed a few years back, adding a pet seemed like a decent idea. Problem was, we already had three critters in tow. Now we have five, plus a delightful human addition. Initial reaction says that young Seven will grow up loving pets. Then, the realization hits...

A manager at my work recently lost his family cat, after a long illness. He has an elementary-school age daughter at home, and he had to break the news that kitty was not alive anymore. 7DB will have similar discussions with his young'uns... five times. Five times before the first one reaches high school. And then, the reflex response to 'replace' the one who passes...the head swivels like Linda Blair in rehearsals at the thought of it.

Moral of the story: pets and children have to be considered acquisitions. (Hold the moral outrage... we all know the word 'acquire' makes this sentence awkward. It also makes it damned effective.) By considered acquisitions, the implication is that these choices are not to be entered into lightly or flippantly, as the long-term ramifications are not simple, inexpensive or emotionally easy to handle.

With that said, the Casa du 7DB would feel incomplete without any of them. Damnit.
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Relating to pets, our slightly deranged neighbors at PETA want to ask you this Holiday season: Would you eat the family dog?

In a planned billboard advertisement, the animal activist group suggests that eating turkey on Thanksgiving is the equivalent to serving Filet of Fido with a nice Bernaise reduction sauce. It is obvious in its inflammatory nature, yet people that represent the group claim it is basically the same, minus the emotional attachment we have attached to puppies and kitties.

And they're exactly right. Which makes them dead wrong.

We have formed emotional attachments to man's best friend, and to little furry cats that will sit in our laps on rainy days. We also have not attached them to flightless birds that are environmentally destructive and produce high-protein, low-fat servings of nourishment, as well as yummy gravy. This is not in dispute. What is in dispute is why these activists have attached their emotional baggage to the oblivious creatures.

Our society has a thousand-year old opinion of mammals as a food source, and conscious-driven sufferers of delusion have not existed for more than a century. While I myself choose not to use a stun gun and slit the throats of my dinner, I also will not object to tasting the results. As a society, we have more than tripled our life expectancy through a diet of animal product, plus found cures for thousands of illnesses. We have fed millions of people with various product created by these hapless animals.

It is apparently covered in the Constitution that these idealists can assault our sensibilities with romanticized guilt trips about what we chew at home, but it would be an offense for me to show up in front of their house and eat a Double-Double from In-'n-Out. Disappointingly, it rests on the free market to take up the billboard space near the schools these corn-fed hobos wish to target, using the donations of decent people who wish to stop horrifying things like puppy mills and other forms of animal abuse, and let our kids make these choices themselves when they become old enough to do so.

Make sure that you know the difference between PETA and the ASPCA. Other than those damned Sarah McLachlan commercials that air at 2:30 in the morning, the two organizations couldn't be more different. Support the later, and ignore the former.

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Seven Dollar Bill would like to take this time to announce an Occupy movement that truly represents the 99%, both in ideology and in form of protest. We can promise that you will not be asked to donate money or goods, and the amount of time you give will be eminently rewarding.

It's called "Occupy This".

When you see an Occupier, take both hands, hold them about a $5 footlong apart, then make a downward motion, ending with your hands near your hips. Make sure to loudly scream "Occupy This!" as you execute the move, and then hand the morons and community college dropouts an old copy of the local paper, opened to the want ads. Wanna fix the problem? Wanna be the solution? Here's how:

Get a job. Pay your taxes. Vote. STFU.

If you do all of these things, then do them more wisely. Do not do business with those who you think are stealing or cheating or molesting their secretaries. This is the right that thousands of men and women have laid their lives down for, fought for and proudly did so. Then pay your taxes to support those brave souls, and vote in people who will not abuse these people's desire to serve.

See how easy that is? Now get the f&%k out of the park so the sanitation people can come in and clean up after your slovenly asses. Oh, by the way, can you quit raping and killing people in your encampments? That would be greaaaat. #OccupyThis

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The good folks that populate the life of 7DB should be encouraged to take up a cause (preferably one with a goal, plan or common decency in terms of hygiene), be it one that is popular (Susan G. Komen, for example) or more obscure (Save The Red-Billed Wildebeests), as long as its all three of these things:

1) Close to your heart
2) Not illegal, or at least not taking up resources that we all pay taxes to provide, and
3) Serving somebody or something other than yourself.


Those three guidelines will provide the most satisfying contribution to your fellow man.

Or wildebeest.

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This downturn in the economy should be seen as an opportunity. The stakes are low, as is the bar of entry, for trying to launch a business (Internet advertising is almost free and increasingly effective) or charitable venture. When the economy recovers, the general public will discover dozens if not hundreds of new business ideas that were percolating in the cauldron during lean times. Those in position will thrive... and, no matter what those stinky wannabe hippies say, everyone wants to be the 1% of something.

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A man walks into a bar with a duck under his arm. The bartender pours the man a drink, then asks why he's carrying a duck. The man responds: I couldn't afford AFLAC.

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The holiday season is quickly coming to fruition, and the advertising has been in place long enough to collect dust (really, WalMart? Christmas trees for sale in JUNE? This is not Bronner's Christmas Warehouse in Frankenmuth, MI. WTH?), but there are some handy tips to keep in mind when it comes to shopping.

Don't.

Almost everything you want to give as a gift has been on sale for months before now, and everything is on sale on the Web, so going to a store at 3:00 a.m. after a night of sneaking leftover turkey legs into bed seems not only stupid, but counterproductive. Don't let the holiday season become a chore. It is, after all, a holiday. Rest, smile, give your loved ones hugs and kisses, eat some non-PETA approved seasonal food and do your shopping before the eleventh hour. You'll thank yourself later.

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This column has been bereft of sports-related takes thus far, so allow me to briefly take a whack at two:

Fantasy Football right now is either awesome or it sucks, depending on your team's fortunes. The only responsibility you have to the league that you are in is to set a lineup on time. All the weeks start on Thursday from now on, so fill in a lineup already. Win or lose, the smack talking on the league's front page is what we all do it for anyways (since gambling is illegal and all)...

The second sporty topic is not really sports-related, but it does involve the morass in Happy Valley. Penn State is a mess, and 7DB is not jumping back into the politics of that right now. Instead, something to keep in mind about the victims.

As a societal concept, victims of abuse are trapped in a cycle of suffering for the rest of their lives. Permanently damaged. A nod to Deadspin columnist Drew Magary for writing on the matter before this column did, as the national media crush is playing the "I'm more sympathetic to the children than you are" act to the hilt. The Holier Than Thou tone of the coverage, including the interview conducted by Bob Costas of the fallen Coach Sandusky, is insulting to these (and all) victims of crimes like this. (To be fair, this columnist just learned that Costas had less than 30 minutes to prepare for the interview, so it is somewhat understandable that he could not contain the emotional responses. Costas did not back down from tough questions, either, and may have helped seal Sandusky's fate. That man is mentally ill, and in need of help immediately.)

Justice being served will be a major part of the healing process for many of the victims, but handling their progress on their own terms is also important. Pretending that people with Internet access know better than the victims themselves what is needed in this instance is infuriating in its arrogance.

For those who know sexual abuse victims personally, most would agree that it is a topic that they don't often bring up at social gatherings. Reliving the horrors of those events is rarely on their Bucket List, so stop volunteering to be their shoulder to cry on. Do what good people do: Listen. When a friend or loved one is a victim of this type of crime, many strive for life to be close to normal as often as possible. When they need to talk, they will reach out to those who are good listeners, not those with the mightiest soap box. Be a good friend to those you care about, and let the systems we voted for and believe in do their job. Then, the concept of moving forward can become a reality.

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Some collection of schlubs have discovered that, by watching the newspapers carefully, they can find out when old people die and their storage units will be auctioned off. A recent story on the front page of Yahoo! tells of one of these bidders on abandoned storage units finding more than $500,000 worth of gold bars and collectible coins in a Rubbermaid container, one that was abandoned when the elderly lady who owned it passed away.

There is apparently a strategy in the storage unit auction biz that says doing thee research is the way to get paid. By watching the obituaries, then reading about the auctions over the next few months, people can discern when a unit is more likely to have collectibles inside, then bid higher on those with a better likelihood of a return on their investment.

Quick question for you obviously well-educated mortuary chasers: What did you do before this in life that left you picking over human carrion?

Note to self: Have a will, and a road map to all my stuff. I'd rather some angry teenager that is related to me blew all of my estate on coke and midget hookers than let one of these lecherous chain-smoking coffin thieves near it. It speaks poorly of our world that these people can sustain their lives this way. 7DB personally hopes they run into some of that person's not-so-well off relatives who had to work two jobs for six months and sell of their grandfather's pocket watch to pay for a funeral, while they floss with hundred dollar bills stolen from the family's estate. Then the would-be heirs figure it out, and mete out some prison-style gratitude.

(After re-reading this, 7DB is not sure why this draws out anger as much as it does. It is pretty crappy, though. No question there.)

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As a final thought, the Editorial Staff of Seven Dollar Bill is beginning to learn that everybody has a condition. The latest example is something called Shift Work Sleep Disorder. It involves being cranky, feeling less than ideal and suffering from higher blood pressure and other semi-common symptoms.

Producing morning television would make one a perfect candidate for clinical trials on the matter, but it raises a larger question, one that 7DB will thank Seth Meyers from Saturday Night Live for putting so eloquently: Really? Not sleeping when it's dark out is bad for you? Sleeping during daylight hours is difficult? Really? Oh, and not sleeping well can have bad effects on your health? Next thing you're gonna say, it's bad to not eat properly or exercise. What is this world coming to? You mean I shouldn't try to juggle chainsaws while they're running? Really?

If something is so obvious and it makes things less than ideal, we all have an individual responsibility to change the circumstance for ourselves. Quit waiting for your insurance to cover the meds, damnit.

The Last Conversation... and Kung Pao Chicken

                                                             Earvin Johnson, pre-Magic

   The title of this installment of 7DB will make more sense towards the bottom of the entry, I promise, but for now I will note that the combination of recent events in the news and the marking of the passage of time in the life of the 7DB clan has dovetailed nicely into topic matter. It has also motivated me to get my Beat Down stick out, and the first recipient is former Defensive Coordinator for the Penn State Nittany Lions, Mister Jerry Sandusky.

   For those living in a hovel these last few days, Sandusky is a former coach on the legendary staff of Penn State's football team, led by Joe Paterno. Paterno has a long and storied reputation for a morally strong and solid program, one that includes two national championships and numerous bowl appearances and players who have graduated and moved on to high-profile careers in the NFL. That is part of why the story about their program elicits such shock for those who are aware of JoePa and his history of raising men.

   Sandusky stands charged with more than a decade of abusing boys sexually, many of whom were involved with his 'Second Mile' program for foster children, and all of this while having extensive involvement with the university, including after his retirement from his post as the Defensive Coordinator for the football team. Sandusky hosted clinics for boys in the 4th-9th grades, and used his pull with the coaching staff to take kids on behind-the-scenes tours of the stadium and locker rooms. Where he apparently thought it was OK to sodomize them.

   DISCLAIMER: Innocent until proven guilty. Enough? Good. I will continue.

   IF Sandusky is guilty (caps on purpose), then some combination of the following penalties should be imposed:
   -Flogging by the victims, preferably with barbed baseball bats propelled at high speeds.
   -After an evacuation of family and pets, his house should be filled with rabid bobcats, and Sandusky should then serve home confinement until his trial.
   -As part of the initial sentence, Sandusky should be used for testing of weed killing products and mascara, much like rabbits are now.
   -Every person subjected to the assaults alleged in Grand Jury documents should be allowed to add items to this list.

   The former coach grew up with his parents running a center where troubled youth could feel safe and get a meal, and get help to get through their lives. Somehow, this person took that experience and turned it into a victim factory. Eight youngsters have been identified, but history tells us that many other victims could be out there, hiding from the history of pain.

   There are two responses to this story I have encountered so far: disgust and anger. Every person should feel disgusted even reading the words that make up the assertions, even the most jaded of us. The only point that every religion, every country, every dictator in history have agreed upon is the innocence of children. Stealing this for the satisfaction of a fetish is reprehensible, at best.

   The second reaction, however, is where my thoughts lie. Those who show immediate anger at the charges are people who are familiar with what damage that kind of treatment does to the victim. I am not one to give people 'victim' status lightly, as I believe that everybody has their particular crosses to bear in life, but these children are the absolute meaning of the word 'victim'. No offense was rendered by them, yet a punishment of a lifetime of mental anguish was meted out. But the anger doesn't stop there...

   What may be even worse, as I must believe that this Sandusky was damaged emotionally by parents who gave everything to those in need, but gave nothing to their own flesh and blood, and that this is his motivation... is the reaction of the university. All of the stuffed suits that are currently facing charges are morally responsible, no matter what the legal verdicts are, and the charges they face are not due to participation, but to having known that this happened and not calling the authorities. Many of the people involved have resigned their posts at the university, surrendered to police and posted bail. Their day in court is coming. But one man has escaped the heat largely thus far. That is where the vitriol peaks... Coach Paterno.

   Joe Paterno was approached by a graduate assistant, after said assistant witnessed Sandusky and a child in a shower, after hours, and hearing distinctive slapping noises. When the assistant came into full view, the former 'coach of men' had a small boy pinned against the shower wall while he defiled him from behind. He immediately went to find Paterno and tell him. Paterno's response? Wait a day, then pass the buck to the Athletic Director for the school.

   Now, to be fair to JoePa, he knew this man for more than 30 years, and had no reason prior to suspect his proclivities to be of an abusive nature. However, if I knew someone for 30 years, and this accusation came up from a non-biased source, the very first thing that would happen is a heated conversation with the accused, followed quickly by a call to the police. There is just no way that one can misconstrue what the graduate assistant recounted to the Head Coach. If for no other reason than embarrassment, Paterno should have immediately stepped down. He wants to not discuss the matter, saying it takes away from what the young men on the field have to deal with.

   Well, Joe, the young men on the field have to deal with you letting child molesters linger on your staff for more than 30 years, so I figure they'll be able to handle some bad press. If you care about your players and their future, step aside and own up that you should have, as a man and an adult and a mandatory reporter of child abuse per Pennsylvania law, called the cops and let them sort it out.
 
   Paterno has a press conference scheduled later today, where one hopes he has a logical, digestible explanation for turning a blind eye to one of his assistant coaches sexually abusing children in his own damned locker room. Then, afterwards, I will Webcast the four dozen pigs I have stored flying out of my ass. Man better retire quickly, before the anger simmers back to a boil, and a Google Map out the path to Happy Valley, PA.

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   The doctor accused of killing Michael Jackson with prescription drugs was convicted of  involuntary manslaughter this week. I don't wish to delve too deeply into this topic, as I am not sure I want to discuss a man that could have been the exact subject of the previous paragraphs. 7DB loved the early work of the King of Pop, but did not relate to having Macaulay Culkin up to the ranch for long weekends of 'play'.

   Net result, a man who voluntarily dyed his own skin for years will have justice served in his memory for the benefit of people who are still alive. What justice that is... is not for a humble man such as I to evaluate.

   Corny joke alert: He was not a Smooth Criminal. The courtroom trial was certainly a Thriller, but the verdict told us who's Bad. The doctor knew the case against him, but he just couldn't Beat It. It didn't seem Dangerous, but it was. It's all laid out in the court papers, right there in Black or White. Michael wasn't sure if the drugs were working, but the doctor told him "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough", so MJ looked at the Man In The Mirror and he decided to Ease On Down The Road. After telling the doc he liked the drugs for the Way They Made Him Feel, he became delusional, discussing how a girl named Billie Jean was a P.Y.T., and how he Wanna Be Startin' Somethin' with her. Alas, Everyone Is Someone's Fool, so Michael chose to Get On The Floor. He couldn't help it. It was just Human Nature.

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   Smokin' Joe Frazier passed away from complications relating to liver cancer this week, at the age of 67. A man known best for three epic brawls with Muhammad Ali should actually be best remembered for his work with underprivileged children in his native Philadelphia. His name and reputation are marked with gentlemanly behavior outside of the ring, and vicious execution inside of it. Boxing may be a dying sport, but men who fought the way Joe Frazier did will live on in the minds of fans of sport.

   George Foreman, who faced Frazier at his peak, was quoted after hearing of his passing:

   "Good night, Joe Frazier. I love you, dear friend."

   You did something right if a man you traded punches with says that when you pass on.

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   Earvin 'Magic' Johnson recently celebrated is 52nd birthday, marking more than a half-century that has taken him from the heights of athletic prowess to the same lofty perches of business acumen and success. It is even more remarkable when you consider that, 20 years ago Monday, he held a press conference announcing his own death.

   At least, we the uneducated thought it was his death. Magic had announced his retirement from the NBA after he had "attained" (his unfortunate choice of word) the HIV virus that is a precursor of AIDS. At that point in time, the general public only knew that disease to be one that 'gays' and Africans (not African-Americans...Africans. From the uncivilized areas...) suffered from, a horrible bit of preconception by a public not yet fully indoctrinated in Political Correctness. Now, the most popular athlete in America was going to die from it. His fellow players said they did not want to catch it from playing the game with him, fearful that a speck of blood could be a death sentence.

   The reason that this resonates so clearly with 7DB is that this is the topic of the a conversation between a teen-aged boy and his father. That boy came home from class to see his father and his girlfriend glued to the TV set, watching for "a major announcement" from the Lakers about their star player. The teen joined the unlikely duo to watch the sequence above unfold, and then began a conversation that, unbeknownst to anyone in the room, would be their last.

   The substance of the conversation went from the lack of understanding of the disease to the apparent proclivity of athletes to have marital relations outside of their marriage. (Quite the eye-opener for a teen boy with his girlfriend in the room, as you can imagine...) It wasn't because he was black, and it wasn't because he was gay...it was due to something else. And it was scary. The man with the best smile in the public eye was going to die.

   Now, 20 years later, Magic is still living the dream, with a beautiful family and as good of health as anyone in their 50's should be entitled to. The boy is grown, has a family of his own now. Beautiful wife and daughter... but his father didn't stick around to see it. He died two days after that press conference, at an age five years younger than Magic is now.

   Those words in that last conversation weren't the last words spoken. Life continued on after the press conference ended on November 7, 1991. Dinner was made, and dishes were washed. The last words spoken between the father and his son were in relation to picking up Chinese food to eat that night, to be picked up after the boy took his girl to a movie. Splitting some Kung Pao seemed like a good idea...

A big, shiny new world...

A brief note upon the return to the blogosphere: it is interesting how difficult it can be to find the time to work an outlet like this, when life gets suddenly much more complicated time-wise. My last post was brief, and discussed the impending arrival of my first child. Well, Baby 7DB is here in full effect, and I have a hard time wanting to do anything other than making her smile at me. Since she is still an infant, it is not as easy a task as making those who can read missives like these to do the same. I cannot rely on any knowledge of music or pop culture reference, nor can I make a play on words. She boils things down to basics, and it changes what a sense of humor means. It also requires expanding the one you have, as anyone that spit up on me this much in any other stage of life would have had the snot smacked out of them.

With that said, she still fills diapers as a profession, so she's not old enough to stop a furiously warped mind like this author's. Without further ado, we return to the regularly-scheduled blogcast...

I have not visited life as a morning news producer in this space yet, so allow me a brief interlude. The game of Pros and Cons with a job like this is relatively short, yet highly descriptive. Allow a moment for a sample:

Pro - New work product every day. No matter how good or bad a show is, there is another to do the next day.

Con - The work in that product involves trying *not* to depress people, yet tell them what's happening in their area. Some level of insight can be had with politics, and having a bit of sport at the expense of local hoodlums who have turned stealing cars, getting chased by police and driving said stolen ride into a house is all fine and good, but having to recount the tragedy of events like the Sendai earthquake or the horror of an immigrant woman putting her baby in a microwave until it died takes the luster off of the career choice.

Pro - Working with some of the newest and best technologies available in broadcast television on a daily basis, and doing so with seasoned professionals in front of the camera.

Con - Having to depend on the outside world being foul and depraved to make content for your work day. While it (sadly) delivers on a regular basis, it is not an ideal way to maintain emotional health.

Just a sampling. The newest of those "pros" is a whole pile of topic matter to write about.

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In recent days, the sports world has supplied plenty of stupidity and general oddball-ism to fill several hard drives with rants. As a fan for more than three decades now, I woefully underestimated the power of an instant media, both in its effective nature in breaking news and its propensity for error.

Neither of those affected the decision by 229-year old (estimates based on carbon dating) Bartolo Colon of the New York Yankees to undergo a stem cell replacement procedure to rejuvenate his flagging career. He responded with a solid year, until another piece of his cadaver-enhanced body broke down, and raised enough eyebrows to have a higher profile athlete try a similar procedure.

Kobe Bean Bryant, resident Laker megastar and alleged misogynist, took advantage of the ill-advised NBA lockout to travel to Germany to undergo a procedure much like Colon did. Envisioning the precocious teen with the wild 'fro as a 15-year vet is tough for me, but the miles of several trips to the NBA Finals have apparently begun to take their toll on old Number Eight (er, number Twenty-Four)...enough so that trying a procedure that has not been tested thoroughly by medical professionals in the hopes of winning one more championship isn't as surprising as I'd like it to be.

Bryant and his aging support crew have been slowly sliding backwards out of the top dog slot in the league, so his competitive nature got the best of him. Why this isn't illegal and against league by-laws in a fashion similar to blood doping and HGH treatment is probably left to the greater minds that run (or lockout) the league. One just hopes that the bust that will eventually go up in Springfield will not be horribly disfigured by some marginally-ethical medical decisions.

(Don't worry. A more extensive look at the NBA labor situation, as well as a reflection on the NFL's scenario, will show up very soon in this space. It may even be some of the following adjectives: insightful, witty, urbane, profane, absurd, reckless, mundane or spotty.)

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Recent news in the 'burg I now hang my hat in has also left me with thoughts that need ventilation. Most recently, the events involving two separate police departments and the alleged actions of one now-deceased felon have left me scratching at my ample head.

An officer for the Twin Rivers School Police Department was shot in an escape attempt by a suspect. When word got out, police officers from several nearby cities began to search for the shooter. The officer, who was injured but not incapacitated enough to prevent identifying the suspect, is recovering from his injuries. The suspect was captured by a department from another jurisdiction, and placed in the back of a squad car, handcuffed and lying on his belly.

Here is where accounts vary a bit. Friends of the suspect (now alleged victim) say he was asthmatic, and could not reach his inhaler from the position he was transported in. Officers deny any issues with placing him in the squad car, but then noticed the shooter was unresponsive during transport. They pulled over and called for medical help. He was pronounced dead minutes later.

The shooter ran from police, even while in cuffs (this is on camera), and was taken down in a manner one might expect when a handcuffed man attempts to run from police. The question of how he died in police custody is contentious and divided along racial lines.

While that is being sorted out, it comes to light that the Officer's Association of the department of the officer who was shot had issued some questionable T-shirts in a fundraising effort years before. (Once again, a police department for a school district.) The shirts had a slogan on them: "You raise 'em, We cage 'em".

Last night, several angry protesters went to the school board meeting to vent about how those shirts show the department's culpability in the shooter's death. Repeat: the police department of a school district, whose officer was wounded, allegedly by the victim, is responsible for the death of a man in custody in another department, all based on a t-shirt.

Putting aside for a moment the guilt or innocence of the deceased, the misplaced anger is disturbing. It can be likened to being mad at the City of Anaheim for Sacramento's failure to build a viable NBA arena for its team, and then saying that the city is at fault for a broken ride at Disneyland. Anger that goes off the boards like this leads to bad situations...something I can attest to, after having lived in Los Angeles in the Spring of 1992.

Even more unsettling, the leadership is distracted from handling this issue well, due to some people wishing to either a) re-enact the grandiose days of Haight-Ashbury, or b) get a camping permit to sleep in a park in the city because they were wronged by the banks during the bailout. Resources and money are being expended daily on people wishing to Occupy places that are not their homes, while a police officer is wounded and another man is dead from being in the back of a squad car.

Not to be pithy, but me thinks some priorities are askew in this town. Many would say the two situations do not compare, but they both reflect the fear and outrage that comes with having a depressed economic situation. Many municipalities have been forced to reduce police presence due to budget constraints, and the towns they patrol are teeming with unemployed and underemployed people, mad at the world that stripped them of their ability to raise their families.

While time heals all wounds, it may take a large stack of greenbacks and a steady hand to slow the rising tensions in this and other towns across the country...stay tuned.

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Being serious all of the time is no fun, so I include this remix of a Jay-Z lyric, overheard on Halloween:

"If you're having ghoul problems, I feel bad for ya, son. I've got 99 problems, but a witch ain't one. Hit me!"

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Just a few entries ago, I can see how clearly I saw the Brett Favre situation unfold in Minnesota. Little did I know that a QB's problem with keeping his cell phone camera pointed away from his nether regions would not force him to quit ruining my team's chances for one full year afterwards.

After the 41-year old Favre retired (for the fourth and apparently final time), the team promptly went younger, trading for 33-year old has been Donovan McNabb. I believe McNabb is Irish for "throws picks like Favre", but my Gaelic is rusty...could have that wrong.

McNabb's first drop back of the season went like one would expect in a situation like this. He fumbled, and the defense recovered. The team proceeded to not win any games with him at the helm, and broke through only after starting the bizarre draft choice Christian Ponder, just 5 games into his rookie campaign. I call the drafting of Ponder bizarre in part because they took him two full rounds ahead of any expert opinion, and had traded a pick to get their Opening Day starter (McNabb) not long before.

In any event, the net result is a team sitting at 2-6, with the triumphant win over Cam Newton's Carolina Panthers (2-6) leading them into the season's second half. I will now go locate a dictionary, find the definition of the word 'immolate', then proceed to re-enact it.

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I will close today's post with a thought about the Occupy movement: A waste. For the first time since the days of Kennedy and Hoover, people across the spectrum were ready to make a move towards change, only to derail themselves with a lack of clarity in message. The protesters appear to be Mad As Hell, And Not Gonna Take It Anymore, but their "its" are all different. Blaming the economy's downswing on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan is arguable, as are the bank and auto industry bailout measures. The unemployment numbers are bad and not ready yet to improve, and disasters are all being connected to greed (Gulf Oil Spill, bailouts), government mismanagement (Katrina, wars) and power-hungry leadership maneuvering (overthrows of several Middle Eastern governments, both G.W. Bush election wins).

None of the protesters can agree who's to blame, or what they are blaming them for. Is Bank of America responsible for the thousands killed overseas? Is BP somehow connected to unemployment in Kansas City? Did the stock market dive connect up with FEMA's malfeasance?

As with any block party, a few of the homeowner's dishes were broken during the festivities. People sleeping in parks to prove a point, while voting the people in who chase the homeless out of their encampments any time the city has business leaders visiting (or an Olympic hockey final to lose) is item two in the Webster's definition of hypocrisy. People complaining about government waste, while forcing their city's police forces to make thousands of arrests and pay out millions of collective dollars of overtime to tired officers, who may very well have some of the same beefs as these underemployed Poli-Sci majors have.

My mother once told me, after some friends had come over and made a mess: "Hope it was fun, because it's your mess to clean up, and the damage comes out of your allowance."

Until next time...

A good reason to begin blogging again...

It has been since last March that I have made a post here. Allow me a moment to expound upon why...
The date of the last post was 3/22/10, and I was hired to the Sacramento FOX TV affiliate the next day. I began there 3/29, and have been writing far too much ever since. Writing and producing TV during odd hours drains the desire to sit and post things in free time...forgive the transgression.

So, now I sit on the precipice of entering fatherhood, as Harper Lynn is preparing to make her entrance (as Jamie is preparing for her exit). The words flutter through my head as to how this all feels, but suffice it to say that it's the most thrilling moment Jamie and I have shared together (yes, possibly even more thrilling than the wedding, since we already kinda knew what would happen there...)

I'll return to Seven Dollar Bill-mode shortly, and am anxious to let loose on a few thousand thoughts that have been banging around in my head these past 16+ months, but for a moment, I am going to enjoy the pending arrival of our young lady. She's gonna rock my world, no doubt. :)

Why Jimmer Fredette is a good name to know...

As March Madness consumes everyone (be it the basketball version or the late-night on Sunday passing health care through the House of Representatives version), it seems a good time to touch on some of the moments that struck the collective fancy this week...

While the economy strangles so many, a moment of extreme spending that makes people happy took place Sunday. Joe Mauer, native of St. Paul, MN, signed a contract extension with the Minnesota Twins that guarantees him remaining in Minnesota through most of his career. The contract is for eight years and pays him eleventy-seven billion dollars over that span. (Ok, it is for $184 million, averaging $23 million per year, but that feels like eleventy-seven billion to us normal folks)

It is likely that Mauer, a 27-year old catcher who has won three batting titles and last year's Most Valuable Player award, would have received offers from the Yankees and Red Sox as a free agent next year that would have been in the 10-year/$300 million range to start with, and could have gone much higher, but the decision to sign for less to play at home will deify Mauer in his hometown. The Twins have historically let its superstars move on when the price got too high (see Johan Santana and Torii Hunter recently), due to the small-market economics that make up baseball. Three things worked out in favor of our beloved Twins in this instance:

1) Joe Mauer is the MAN.

Mauer was raised in a nice area of Saint Paul, starred in three sports at Cretin-Derham Hall (they always killed 7DB on the basketball court, waaaaay before Mauer was of age...back when they had to climb a ladder and pull the ball out of the peach basket and all...), and is surrounded by extended family in the area. Having spent many formative years in the area, 7DB can attest to how important that could be to a guy like Joe.

2) Joe's agent was also the agent of Kirby Puckett

Puckett, the late Hall of Famer that led the Twins to their two World Series victories in 1987 and 1991, was a free agent late in his career. The Chicago native got an offer for a nice raise from the White Sox, but his agent (Ron Shapiro) knew what staying with the team that drafted him was worth to all involved. The Twins gave up about 80% of what the White Sox offered, but could afford little more. No matter. Puckett stayed home, won another World Series and went directly to the Hall of Fame. Twins fans and baseball purists rejoiced. (Shapiro also represented Cal Ripken, Jr., who spent his entire career in Baltimore and went straight to Cooperstown as well.)

Mauer idolized Puckett as a kid, and the idea that he could have the same agent and play for the same team (The Twins drafted him #1 overall, passing on other people thought to be more talented) for life has strong appeal to a guy of his sensibilities.

3) The Twins stepped up...huge.

The contract is one of the largest ever in the history of the sport, and more than double the largest ever given to a catcher. Catching 140-plus games per year wears out players much faster than playing other positions in the field, and guaranteeing $23 mil per year until a guy is 35 to play catcher is no automatic choice. The Twins are still a small-market squad (and this contract does hamstring them a bit for future signings), even with the new stadium opening this year.

This was a signal to all of baseball and all of Minnesota that they understand Mauer's impact on the team and the region. Thousands of kids will grow up watching #7 play his heart out every game, and will do so wearing the same piece of laundry the whole way. Fans that have become cynical of the game and the money surrounding it will take heart in Mauer's signing, and the Twins organization will reap the proper benefits of that.

This may be the most heartening bit of news to cross the wires this calendar year in the world of sports. Joe Mauer alone may have brought many back into the baseball fold, and for that, 7DB thank him, Ron Shapiro and the Twins.

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The last player that attended BYU that even registered a blink from the eyes of the average American is probably Jim McMahon, and that was mostly for his ridiculous headbands. Jimmer Fredette led the Cougars into the NCAA tournament, then poured in 37 to help win a double-OT thriller and advance to the second round (BYU's first tourney win in 17 years).

Oh, and he goes by 'Jimmer'. Like that isn't an automatic WTF from the casual fan...

Fredette's draft stock shot way up based on his play this year, and fans should watch another BYU alum, one Danny Ainge, to see if Fredette could be wearing the Celtic green next season. Consider yourself warned...

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A few quick hits on health care reform, passed through the House of Reps late Sunday night:

-Barack Obama was elected in part on his promises to break through partisanship and make Congress work for the people. A quick look at the results says he was successful, as he made 34 people from his own party vote against his bill, while unifying Republicans like no candidate/elected official has in 20 years. Well played, Mr. President.

-Since the versions presented before did not pass the smell test, Obama and the Pelosi-led Congresspeople devised a way to prevent needing more than a simple majority to pass reform. Ignoring the concept that this goes against the spirit of the law, the backlash against those from particular districts that supported this maneuver will be swift. Watch the ballots fly in November coming up...

-The revisions still have to get ok'd by the Senate, but presumably under the same 'simple majority'. Polling suggests that less than 40% of voters support this version of reform, but many have been worn down by the badgering approach to getting 'something, anything' passed. Not to be a broken record about it, but ask any bar patron that stayed at the bar until 1:30 am looking for companionship how that usually works out.

-The promise that this will eventually make money for the government was part of the justification, suggesting that it would not 'cost' anything at some point in the future. Knowing what we all know about government and money, does anyone believe this? If there is a budget surplus from this, it will be spent in some other way, instead of paying down the whopping debt that the stimulus and other things have created. If there is not a surplus, the President who pushed it through and the Congressmen and -women will be long gone, enjoying their rather comfortable pensions. My unborn children will be holding the bag.

In short, this better work perfectly, or there will be Heck to pay. And by Heck, I mean tens of thousands of dollars per person in tax overruns.

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Michael Jordan has become the primary owner of the NBA's Charlotte Bobcats, the first former player to have a controlling interest in a team. After Jordan's completely classless Hall of Fame induction earlier this year, the league approved the ownership change faster than one had ever been approved. Some attribute this to Jordan's star power, others point out that any stable buyer in this economy is a good thing for the NBA as a whole. I forward a different thought...

The man who bought the expansion franchise to begin with, BET founder Robert Johnson, came in as the first minority owner in the sport's history. In a sport that has between 75 and 85 percent of its players being minorities, this was a long-awaited moment for the league, and a very important step to show the players that there is no limit to how far their influence as people can go, regardless of the past. Keeping the team in minority ownership (still the only team in the NBA held and controlled by a non-white) was key. Jordan's history of gambling problems and infidelity were not deterrents.

In the NFL, an ownership group was turned down to buy the St. Louis Rams last year because one of its small investors was Rush Limbaugh. The rest of the ownership group, led by former team executive of the New York Knicks and Utah Jazz Dave Checketts, promptly kicked Limbaugh out of the group after the uproar. (They then lost the bid to buy the Rams anyways.)

This all brings back the question: does anyone care who owns their teams? Donald Sterling lost a tenant-discrimination lawsuit for over $2 million, yet owns the LA Clippers of the NBA. No one seems to care. It seems that David Stern wants people to care, but just about Jordan, since he makes for good copy. The league will make much out of Jordan's presence for a multitude of reasons, but it should be noted that the Russian plutocrat that agreed to buy the New Jersey Nets and develop some old rail yards in New Jersey is still 'being evaluated' for his worthiness in the ownership clique. Apparently being a poor sport of a competitor, gambling away millions of dollars and cheating on your spouse is ok, as long as you are not from the old Soviet Republic.

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One last athletics-related thought to share...recently the 7DB Clan attended many local high school basketball games. It is marvelous to look at how much the game has changed over the years. Many of the fundamentals of the game that were taught to our parents no longer exist, yet the enthusiasm and spirit behind the play of the vast majority of the players is consistent and heartening. Regardless of how the game evolves, the play at the amateur level (not the paid-under-the-table-at-NCAA-schools level) is still fast-paced and thrilling. To all of those caught in their playoff runs, and those who went down swinging, we salute you. Enjoy...until next time.

Whale kills trainer at Sea World. Blogger torches career counselor.

How to begin? With sadness, I have to report that a giant aqueous mammal killed the 110-pound person that was 'training' the animal. The woman had not even begun the show yet...she was explaining to the crowd what they'd be seeing when the whale was released into the show pool, where it promptly bolted for the unsuspecting trainer and snatched her off the platform. The crowd was promptly evacuated and the park closed.

My question, while trying not to sound too callous, is: Does the liability insurance that Sea World carries cover the therapy for the children in the stands? Usually you have to tune in to National Geographic or MMA events to witness potential death, but at Sea World? Imagine if Mickey got his head lopped off while standing near Space Mountain and the trams...you think that might jar a six-year old? Maybe, just maybe, it is time for society to quit corralling wild animals for profiteering and just take an ocean cruise if one wants to go to see them.

The bigger issue to 7DB, of course, is how these folks land in these jobs. Does anyone really 'dream' of working with animals with limited personality and limited ways to express it? What college career counselor said, "So, ya wanna work with giant, slimy mammals that are held in captivity? That's what you're career profile suggests you'd be best at!" ?

Can the prospect of making $35,000 a year and smelling like fish all day seem appealing? At least underwater pier repair pays well for its high risk. There are many noble folks that work for peanuts (or smelt) and enjoy their experiences with animals and rescue centers, and they should be respected for their choice. Working with show animals, however, seems a bit to 'carny' for an intentional career move.

Siegfried or Roy (I cannot remember which) made big piles of loot, then lost his face to this 'profession'. The money cannot replace what must appear in his mirror every morning...the whole prospect of that being a way to make a living, solely off of the curiosity of people about animals that they may not see in suburbia, creeps me out. At least zoos rescue some animals. Cesar Millan teaches people how to interact with them. Sea World teaches us...how to make whales beg for food and do parlor tricks?

As an adult, feel badly for the young woman. As a person, feel like this is preventable in the future by not lighting the hoops on fire and wondering why Shamu wants human pool toys afterwards.

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For the twelve remaining Winter Olympic fans, something to ponder:

In 2006, the Olympics were in Turin, making tape delay a necessity. In 2010, they are in Vancouver, yet still tape-delayed...but only IN THE TIME ZONE THEY ARE OCCURRING IN. Some numbnuts in Podunk, VA gets the events live at 3pm local, yet they're not shown when they occur in the area they occur in. So, to the question:

Does anyone care?

Probably not, as ratings are off and people are dying at the Games. Ugh. Can we get to spring training yet?

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Tiger Woods put his midlife crisis on display with a press conference...er, live video of him reading a statement. Woods' mother was present, but his wife was not.

Thoughts on this event range from indifference to mild humor. The humor? The Golf Writer's Association of America voted to decline its three invitations to the event, citing that there was no need to send qualified golf writers to an event where no questions would be taken.

First, did you know there was a Golf Writer's Association of America? Are they union? Do they have a Collective Bargaining Agreement, or are they a trade organization? Who organized the 'vote'? We have, as a society, now reached critical mass on the First Amendment being used as a bludgening tool.

Many journalists are angry with Tiger for not taking questions, be it from them or one of their colleagues, and cite that as the reason for their 'protest'. For the first time, a blogger will come out in defense of Tiger since he started playing Hide the Cannoli with local Hooters wait staff...

The only person that Woods has to answer to is his wife, and he doesn't even have to answer to her if he's not interested in staying married. This guy, and this guy alone, created the need for the swollen press corp following golf. All of those protesting d-bags should be tithing 10% of their checks to the Tiger Woods Foundation, not trying to take potshots from their ever-dwindling newsrooms. He broke no law, yet you bloodsucking morons are hanging outside of a preschool to take pictures of his toddlers? Who owes whom?

In short, Tiger will come back, win a buttload of tournaments, get endorsements from the hypocrites who dropped him and the others who didn't, make his fellow golfers very rich and very resentful, and then do what all other golfers do...play until they are 83 years old or so.

Yes, I earlier lumped the golf press in with the tabloids. Yes, it is deserved. The behavior involved in chasing around a guy with enough of his own doing on his plate is bad enough, but to criticize how he voluntarily addresses those paycheck leeches is just outrageous. Be thankful he said anything at all...and have no fear, you'll get to take your shots at him when he plays his next tournament. Losers.

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The Old Spice commercials are still going, long after the Super Bowl ended. "The tickets are now diamonds! I'm on a horse..." True words of wisdom.

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LPBA champ Kelly Kulick made history last month, by entering the men's Tournament of Champions and walking with the winner's check of $40 grand and a two-year exemption on the Tour.

Kulick was granted entry by winning the LPBA Championship earlier in the season...oh, sorry. I should stop now and explain that this is about bowling. K. Sorry about that...

The winner of the LPBA tourney had the option of entering the men's field, and Kulick maximized her opportunity, blowing Chris Barnes back into the lounge with a 265-195 thumping. Losing at bowling by 70 is bad. Losing to a girl...no different. Barnes has nothing to be embarrassed about...other than losing by 70. Kulick averaged 226 over the 60-game tournament, sharing similar conditions and the same lanes as the men she left eating mozzarella sticks at the snack bar. On equal footing, she owned her fellow keglers.

Bowling alley terminology is fun, isn't it? Congrats to Kelly Kulick. We all look forward to...not hearing about your sport again for some time to come in the mainstream media. We will have to hear about Michelle Wie again a few hundred times, though...Ugh.

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More to come in the next day or two...have slacked off in my two-or-three a week plan, but will redouble efforts here. Mazel Tov!