I've Heard This Story Before

Six years ago MySpace was bought for $580 million. Yesterday it was sold by that same company for $35 million, or about 6% of what they paid for it. (I assume whomever authorized that transaction is long since gone.) This drop in value really shouldn't be a surprise because I don't know anyone who actually uses MySpace anymore; most pages were abandoned long ago. Frankly, I'm amazed the site was still worth that much money. The only people who update their sites are bands who are not famous enough to have a site with their own domain name. (Which is actually why one of the new investors, Justin Timberlake, makes a tremendous amount of sense. Someone with a music background might be able to provide good insight into how bands could use MySpace going forward, which is what I assume the focus of the site will be from here on out.)

Anyway, the reason this story really registered with me is because I remembered back to 2006 when everyone was telling me I had to get a MySpace page. It was going to revolutionize how we interacted with other people, they said. Well, I signed up and do you know what happened? Nothing particularly interesting. It was just another place to look at people's pictures. It certainly wasn't a revolution. Not surprisingly, I deleted my page less than a year later when I started this blog and found I could be a lot more creative. I just saw MySpace as another fad that had gone the way of slap bracelets, Starter jackets and Power Rangers. [Sidebar: admittedly, that's just me. Simon and Liz may have different feelings on the matter.]

This news also reminded me that trends on the Internet burn out faster than normal fads because more people can check something out and then get sick of it much faster than we can in the real world. The latest thing gets consumed and discarded much more rapidly than some product in real life. Plus, since most of these sites are free people don't feel any type of brand loyalty or need to stick around until they've gotten their money's worth. As soon as something better comes along, they take off for whatever is seen as newer, faster or cooler. Also, it helps if you actually have a product to sell. When you're entire business model is based on people coming back and doing all the work it's a good chance you won't be around for the long haul.

All of which makes people's insistence that Facebook is somehow immune to this all the more strange. I saw all these pundits on TV saying that Facebook was never going to fall victim to this same kind of thing. Would they like to check with the guy who created Friendster? How about the guy who made Napster? Nothing is immune to people getting tired of it. You would think that people would recognize this, but they don't. Hell, just this afternoon I saw one of the former members on N*Sync doing an extremely ghetto commercial for a fireworks store. Think he saw that coming in 2000? Someday in the future we'll hear about Facebook getting sold for pennies on the dollar and think back to when people insisted it was going to be the only website we'd ever need. I'm sure it will be big news on whatever social media site is the fad of the moment. Just make sure you don't buy stock in whatever it is.

The Light Switch Challenge

When I was still working in sports talk the one week everyone dreaded was baseball's All-Star break, because it meant there was absolutely nothing going on. With every other sport in the offseason, baseball is already the only game in town and then for four days all you've got going on is a homerun derby that lost its appeal 15 years ago and a game that doesn't count (I don't care what anyone says). This year will be even worse because not only will there not be any games to discuss, but there also won't be any potential off-season moves to distract us, as both the NFL and NBA will probably still be in lock-out mode.

Therefore, the thing we always did during that week was to think of some kind of inane topic that the hosts could throw out there, where the discussion could last for hours. Something just controversial enough that it would get the people to call in and keep talking, but not anything that was going to get someone fired. Going off the Jerry Seinfeld logic that sports is nothing more than rooting for laundry and a rival becomes a fan favorite the second he signs with the hometown team, the question I always wanted the hosts to ask was, "Is there one athlete you dislike enough that if your team traded for them, you would stop being a fan until they left?" Alas, no one ever took my suggestion and asked it on the air.

Still, I love questions like that which you can ask anytime a conversation hits a lull and it will reveal a lot about the person through their answer. (Clearly, as evidenced by this blog, I just like inane things in general.) Then, a couple weeks ago I was reading Drew Magary's mailbag column when a reader tossed a doozy of a question in his direction: If some eccentric millionaire offered to give you $70,000 should you be able to successfully go through your home and correctly tell them what every single light switch controlled, would you be able to?

It's an interesting question, because I don't think people ever take the time to memorize this kind stuff. Naturally, if you're in a small room you don't need to worry, because there is only so much it could control, but as a result of not having to remember this kind of thing because there is no consequence for being wrong, very few of us ever do. As you would expect, this got my brain churning about my own abilities. At first I thought I would do well, but then the more I thought about it I realised I wouldn't make it out of the hallway.

Next to the front door is one of those panels with two switches: one for the outside light and one for the inside light. Even with a 50/50 shot I never remember which does which, so there is no way I would get those right under pressure. Actually, I'm not sure thing even when my choices are limited: I was down the beach house a couple weeks back and totally forgot that one bedside lamp was controlled by the light switch next to the door. I was about to replace the light bulb before finally remembering I had to flick a switch for the light to have power.

Clearly, I shouldn't start to think about how I would spend my prize money, but what about you: how confident would you be that you will know for sure what every light switch in your home turns on?

So... Stuff, Huh?

Did you ever notice things some things are annoying? And other times things can be funny when they aren't supposed to be?

Yeah, I've got nothing today.

It's mostly a combination of a slow news week, the fact that my neck is killing me and making sleeping very uncomfortable, so I've had a couple of restless nights and a hot day which drained most of my energy. I spent most of today wrestling with whether or not it was hot enough to turn on the air conditioning, 98% sure it was, but then enough of a breeze would come through my window that it would convince me I should hold out. As such, I'm sticking a big old stamp on this one and mailing it in. Don't hold it against me.

Drunk History vol. 6 w/ John C. Reilly & Crispin Glover from John C Reilly

It's No Comparison

Over the weekend Taylor Swift had two concerts at Gillette Stadium. Therefore, not surprisingly, in the week leading up to the shows Swift was all over the radio in these parts. Because she's got a lot of crossover appeal, this meant she wasn't just on the country stations, but the pop and Top-40 ones as well. The only way to escape her was to turn on the rock stations. Now, I understand the radio stations beating her into our brains, because they wanted to generate buzz for the shows, especially if they had tickets to give away. I even get the people who weren't able to get tickets but called in requests to the stations, because they are fans and they still want to at least hear her songs. Who I didn't get were the people on their way to the show that called in with Taylor Swift song requests. Um, you're going to hear the real thing in a couple hours, so why would you want to hear the recorded version right before?

I think my concern stems from one of the main reasons I have a love/hate relationship with concerts. Besides dealing with the crowds, which I do not like, I also worry about how good the band is actually going to be. Nothing bums me out more than finding out a band is really terrible to see live once I'm already in my seats and can't escape. Now, if they stink, the stage crew can try their best to cover it up with pyrotechnics and elaborate dances, but at some point they still have to sing. The last thing I would think any musical act wants is to have to hold one of their live performances up against something that has been carefully crafted and remixed before being released to the general public. On the one hand I love it when I get there and the band is equal to the challenge, simply blowing me away with how good they are. I walk away totally impressed and even more of a fan. The problem is that doesn't happen too often.

More often than not I walk away very under-whelmed. Now, too be fair, you can't always blame the musicians, because they might just be a victim of a bad building. Some places just aren't made to handle live music. However, other times it's because the artist really isn't that good and suddenly having to perform without the benefit of a sound engineer to clean them up, their secret is out to the public. (I once had a friend who went to see Alanis Morissette and said that without having someone there to clean up her vocals, live she sounded like someone doing a terrible job at singing Alanis Morissette karaoke.) I lose a ton of respect for musicians when I hear stories like that. I feel as though if you can't do it live then you really shouldn't be charging money for a concert.

Obviously, I didn't go to either show, so I can't tell you whether or not Miss Swift can actually sing. But, I'm willing to bet that even on her best stage night she would rather not have to stand up to her pre-recorded self. Therefore, if you plan to go to any shows this summer I would recommend not listening to that act's music before you head to their show. Go in with open ears and therefore fresh (read: lowered) expectations. It'll probably work out better for the both of you in the long run.

A Miraculous Interlude

It's been a bizarre couple of weeks. A lot of good, though unexpected, things have been happening. First off, my iDock fixed itself after a couple years, then the Bruins (yes, the Bruins, the red-headed stepchild of the Boston sports scene) won the Stanley Cup, then my truck managed to pass its inspection on the first try, which has never happened in all the years that I have owned it. If you had asked me last month if any of those things was going to happen, I would have said absolutely not. Clearly, it's a strange time around these parts. Seems like a good time to break out some Mike & The Mechanics.*

*Also, I love that this is one of those classic 80s music videos that was supposed to be a mini-movie as well. It gets even more bonus points because stars Veruca Salts' dad.

Weekly Sporties

-Leading up to Thursday's NBA Draft, there were a ton of rumors floating around concerning potential trades. Some of the biggest names in the NBA were said to be available, including reports that every single member of the Celtics could be had for the right offer. Not surprisingly, nothing happened and no one of consequence was moved. That's the main thing I don't like about hot stove talk - 95% of it turns out to nothing more than guessing. I would much rather the big trades happen and then we find out about it, versus all the names being out there and nothing coming of it. I'm not going to be bummed that Tony Parker wasn't traded to Toronto if I never knew it was a possibility to begin with.

-The NBA Draft itself was a big snore-fest anyway. Because everyone knows there is going to be a prolonged NBA lockout and a good chance that games won't be played until January, most of the top-level NBA talent decided to stay in college. As such the draft was full of International players no one knew, juniors who would normally have no business being drafted and freshman who no one knows enough about to say for sure if they are really very good. If you ever wanted to create a poster for why there needs to be a higher age-limit for the NBA Draft, look no further than the picture of all the guys invited to be in the green room. My guess is over half won't be playing in the league in 4 years.

-Yesterday Andy Roddick was knocked out of Wimbledon in the third round. SportsCenter broke in and had a special ticker on the screen, saying it was "breaking news". Alright, I'll be the one who says it: Andy Roddick isn't that good. It's only news because he is the best American tennis player, which in today's society is a little like being the best American jockey. Roddick hasn't been relevant for years and isn't even ranked in Top Ten anymore. I would hardly call him being eliminated 'breaking news' or an upset.

-The NHL gave out it's league awards the other night. As a man who loves awkward moments when they are happening to someone else, I was really pulling for Roberto Luongo to win the Vezina Trophy (League's best Goalie) instead of Tim Thomas. It would have been great to see Luongo have to go up on stage and accept this award despite being thoroughly outplayed by Thomas just a week earlier in the Stanley Cup Finals. But, Thomas won. So, I was robbed of my awkward moment, but at least the voters got it right.

-Earlier in the week, Dodgers owner Frank McCourt made a last-second deal with Fox to get an influx of cash to his team so he would be able to make payroll. This lump of money also helped him finalise his bitter divorce case. However, Commissioner Bud Selig came in and vetoed the deal, saying it violated some rule about borrowing money from a TV partner. Not only does Selig's decision mean McCourt won't make payroll and the league is going to take control of the Dodgers (most likely so they can sell them to someone else), but it nullifies his divorce settlement and he has to go back to court. I have to say when one guy can take another man's sports team and screw up his divorce settlement, he may have a little too much power. I thought Commissioners worked for the owners, not the other way around.

-After their manager quit during a 1-17 June, the Florida Marlins turned back the clock and hired 80 year-old Jack McKeon to manager the team for the rest of the season. McKeon previously won a World Series managing the team in 2003. While I love McKeon's spunk and he clearly has more energy than most men his age, it doesn't change the fact that he's 18 years older than my dad, who can barely stay awake during an entire baseball game. I bet we have a shot of McKeon asleep in the dugout before the All-Star Break.

-Speaking of changing managers, Washington National's manager Jim Riggleman abruptly quit the team in the middle of the week, despite being one of the hottest teams in baseball and finally getting the Nationals over .500. Riggleman was working on a year-to-year basis and said he asked for a long-term contract, which was not given to him, so he quit. On the one hand, I admire Riggleman for sticking to his principles. However, it's not like there are a ton of major league managerial jobs on the market. It's one thing to take the moral high ground when you work in finance, it's another when you hold one of only 30 positions like it in the world. Also, he'll have a very hard time finding another one, as he's now seen in baseball circles as a guy who puts himself ahead of the team. But, you know, at least he has his principles.

Moving Down The List

Yesterday morning the world was buzzing with the news that the FBI had finally captured fugitive mob boss Whitey Bulger, after he had been on the run for 30 years. Turns out he was living in Southern California and they caught him because of the woman he been living with. (Apparently, Whitey never saw "Heat".) Coming just a month and a half after the government found and killed Osama bin Laden, you could say that the Intelligence Agencies are on quite the roll right now. (And wow, did people ever say that. Honestly, I was sick of the 'next they're going to find Waldo' jokes by noon.)

However, people are only interested in stories about capturing people for so long. Unlike with a scandal that can continue for weeks as new information comes along, stories like this have a pretty short shelf-life, unless you are in Boston, where this is pretty much the only news of the week. Not that I blame the news media around here because they've spent 30 years preparing Whitey Bulger stories. Much like having the obituary of a famous person ready to go with only the exact date of their death needing to be filled in, you can tell the newspapers had been sitting on all these "Bulger gets caught" headlines, wondering if they would ever get printed and are now being rolled out in force.

Still, if the Intelligence Agencies want to keep the good vibes and government funding rolling in, they are going to need to keep breaking big news stories by solving crimes we all thought would never be solved. To help them out, I came up with a few people they could look into finding.

-D.B. Cooper. Cooper skyjacked an airplane in 1971 and made off with $200,000, allegedly by parachuting out of that plane and into the woods. No one knows if he ever actually jumped, if he survived the landing or what became of the money. In this economy, finding that cash would be big news.

-Jimmy Hoffa. The former union boss went missing in 1975 and the big myth was that he was killed and buried under one of the endzones of Giants Stadium. People checked it out when they tore the stadium down and it wasn't true. I know that finding one man who's probably buried under the ground is going to be like trying to find a needle in haystack, but you mean to tell me with all the new housing developments that happen in the country no one has stumbled upon him yet? He's out there somewhere.

-Amelia Earhart. The first woman to try and fly around the world, she came up a bit short. But, wouldn't we all like to know just how short? Again, finding one plane that is probably at the bottom of the ocean somewhere won't be easy, but with how far technology and sonar have come, it can't be impossible, can it?

-Oscar Zeta Acosta. You probably haven't heard of this guy, but he was the inspiration for Hunter S. Thompson's character of Dr. Gonzo in "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" and he disappeared in Mexico in 1974. Either he died, or he's been on one hell of a trip for the last 37 years. If it's the latter that would make for one great story.

-Judge Joseph Crater. When the judge went missing in 1930, it became one of the first big missing person stories to grip America. Now, he's obviously dead, but I mostly want them to find him because when my mother used to complain about my room being dirty she would tell me they would find Judge Crater under a pile of my clothes. Even though that hasn't happened in 20 years, I would simply appreciate the reference being taken out of play.

Come To The Window

One of the first things you learn when you get a job in retail is that you should always make eye contact with the customer. It's important for them to see you because that way you can establish a connect with them. [Editor's Note: I don't believe that, it's just what I was told while working at multiple summer jobs where I was expected to treat this thing I couldn't wait to quit as if it were my career.] But because I have this edict burned into my brain, it was extremely unusual to be at a customer window the other day and discover that it had been heavily tinted, to the point it was almost blacked-out and made it impossible to see who I was talking to.

Now, I assume this was for safety measures, perhaps to stop potential thieves from seeing how much money was being passed around, but to the rest of us law-abiding citizens it just created a weird, human jack-in-the-box feeling to the entire transaction. It was kind of unsettling because I like to see people coming and this prevented that. Instead of being able to know when I should be ready, the woman behind the window would just appear randomly out of the side of this building, like some character in a terrible PBS children's show. I half-expected her to ask me what we learned from the day's adventure.

I also think this kind of tinting is a bad idea because I like to know who I'm dealing with and not being able to see what's going on makes me immediately suspicious. If you don't want me to see what you are doing, it makes me wonder if there is a reason behind that. I mean, what are you hiding back there? Honestly, they could dropped my food on the floor, put it back onto the tray and just hope I don't notice, which is now what I fully expect happened. If you're the kind of people that would do that, I would like to know that going in.

Adding to the general chaos was the fact that this was clearly the first week of summer help and things behind the scenes were still ironing themselves out (which might be the real reason for the tinting). At one point the door opened and one girl asked for our money. A minute later a second person gave us the first thing we order and disappeared back inside. Then a random guy popped out and offered us an ice cream cone which we had not ordered. Then a third girl opened the window and asked us to confirm what I had ordered which, as it turned out, had been sitting there for several minutes ready to go. Apparently, they couldn't see what was going on inside the place any better than I could.

A Rambling Book Review

I never know when it's too late to give a book recommendation. I mean, how long after a book has been published has the window closed on telling people they should read it? With movies it's a fairly easy call to make, as you get three obvious chances at it: you can recommend a movie you enjoyed while it's still in the theatres, when it first comes out on video and then if someone asks for your opinion because they are thinking of finally renting it. That's about it. With books, it's more of a crap shoot, because at some point the story becomes dated and it's a matter of figuring out when that is. This is especially true with books written about specific events. Eventually the story keeps moving along in real life, new facts come out and the book is just irrelevant. Who wants to read a book with old and dated facts? Still, with this disclaimer in mind I'm pressing forward because I just finished a great book, "The War for Late Night" by Bill Carter and even though it came out almost about 7 months ago and is about the incredibly fast-moving world of television, I still wanted to tell you how good it is.

The book centers around all the behind-the-scenes drama which unfolded during the process of shifting Jay Leno off "The Tonight Show" to make room for Conan O'Brien, followed by the NBC executives getting buyers remorse over the decision, trying to keep Leno with the network by moving him to 10 o'clock and essentially screwing the rest of the network up in the process. All the while David Letterman sits off to the side and throws spitballs at his former network. Since Bill Carter wrote the first book about how NBC came to pick Leno over Letterman for "The Tonight Show" in the mid-90s ("The Late Shift") he's extremely qualified to cover this topic, getting unbelievably candid access to everyone involved. Its almost as if this book could be treated as a sequel.

From what I can gleam from the back pages, it sounds as though this book was originally supposed to just be a story about Conan's elevation and Jay's retirement. But, then when all the other rating problem came up, the terrible "Jay Leno Show" experiment at 10 o'clock was announced because Leno never actually wanted to retire and eventually Conan felt so disrespected he left the network, Carter was just in the background, furiously taking notes and ended up with a much better story. You can tell Carter has a journalism background because he spends a majority of the book trying never to take sides and just presenting all the facts. The whole thing reads like one giant, captivating article, which is to say it's really well-written.

Because Carter tries not to take sides, presenting everyone's story equally and allowing the reader to form their own conclusions, the main thing that struck me was how nobody came out looking very good. Leno looks like a guy who simply can't stand to be off of TV, even though he doesn't appear to actually like comedy. O'Brien (who I genuinely enjoy) comes off as both naive to how TV works and a little self-pitying. Letterman appears to just be a moody asshole and the NBC executives come across as spineless weasels who just don't know anything about TV and who never want to ever make a decision because it might make someone mad at them. Then when they finally do make a decision they hide behind numbers, as if it was never really up to them. Even Jimmy Kimmel doesn't come out looking very good, as he seems like a guy just desperate for any attention he can find. The entire book made me really happy I never aggressively pursued a career in television because if these are the successful people, I would hate to deal with the failures.

What's also fascinating to me (and a testament to just how great the writing is) is that I couldn't stop reading this book and I don't even like any of these shows. I never watched "The Tonight Show" when it was hosted by Jay Leno, couldn't tell you the last time I laughed at David Letterman (I'm sorry, but throughout the book everyone worships at the Alter of Dave and I just do not get why everyone is so loyal to this guy), have never seen a second of Jimmy Kimmel and now routinely skip "Conan" in favor of "The Daily Show". Despite all that, I was enthralled by the story.

Now, I should warn you - this is not light, beach-reading material. It's almost 400 pages long and contains a lot of names, networks and connections to wrap your head around. Still, the fact I blew through it in about 3 days should tell you something. It's just a fascinating tale, made all the more intriguing because the characters are real and familiar. However, if you want to give it a read you should probably hurry, because already some of the stuff is already dated. (Example: Dick Ebersol, another guy who doesn't really come across as very likable, has already been fired since the book came out.) But if you like television, office drama and hearing about rich people fighting, then I highly recommend you grab a copy of "The War for Late Night."

Another Miracle!

Everybody has something in their lives that totally discombobulates them. Some issue which has burned you so many times in the past that now when it comes up you get so worked up about it, you become completely scatter-brained and can't think rationally. My issue happens to be my truck's yearly state inspection. As a writer, I take every rejection personally and my truck failing inspection is no different. It's as though whether or not I can keep my truck in working order speaks to what kind of man I am. I hate driving around with that big, red 'R' on my windshield and feeling as though it should just be tattooed on my forehead to save everyone the time. Actually, I probably take this particular rejection worse than most because I know it's coming and have time to think about it.

You see, I don't have a good history with these things. Since my family mechanic doesn't do inspections, I find myself trying out various garages, each shadier than the last and featuring a mechanic who fails me for some issue which is always very serious, but, in an amazing coincidence, he could fit me in and fix this afternoon for only a few hundred dollars. (I hate dealing with shady people, but because I don't know a ton about engines and am totally out of my element, I really hate dealing with shady mechanics.) Often before the inspection is even over I feel a sense of dread, as my mind starts to wonder, "Alright, how screwed am I about to get?" Having time to let my mind come up with new and inventive degrees of just how bad this is going to be makes it even worse.

Now, for the last couple of years I have found myself repeatedly failing my inspection because my emergency brake won't hold to the designated RPMs. There has to be some kind of design flaw with Mercury Mountaineers, because I had the e-brake totally replaced when I first bought the truck, then repaired twice after that and yet every June it's a source of problems. Before owning this car I had never even heard of people failing due to their e-brake, but it has now happened to me three of the five times I have had the truck inspected. It will be close, but not close enough that the guy feels like letting me pass. As such, before I even took my car to be inspected this year I decided to test my e-brake in my driveway and see if it would hold, or was at least pretty close. It wasn't.

Once again, after getting it repaired last year, it was no longer holding to the necessary number. I planned on simply bringing my truck to my trusted guy without bothering to fail the inspection first, but my dad convinced me to bring my vehicle down to the place where his truck gets inspected, because he feels they may be a little more... how shall we say, relaxed, with the numbers. And if they weren't and I still failed he trusts these guys enough to feel confident they wouldn't screw me in repairs. So, I dropped my truck off and the woman told me to come back in an hour. I told her I would because, while I could have told her just to call me when it was fixed, I certainly didn't want to tell her I fully expected it to fail. Still, I wasn't full of high hopes.

Since I was expecting the car to fail inspection, when the hour past I decided not to bother securing a ride down to the garage. I thought I would just drive another car, be told my truck failed, tell them to fix whatever was wrong and that I would pick it up after the re-test tomorrow and then drive myself home without disrupting anyone else. I even parked a couple lots down from the garage because I wanted to do a quick errand after everything was set at the garage and it was easier to walk over than drive around. That's how sure I was I was going to fail.

Well, you know what they say about the best laid plans. Imagine my surprise as I walked passed my car and instead of seeing the expected red 'R' it turned out my truck passed inspection after all. I paid the woman inside, who gave me no outward signs that I now owed them a favor. Either they never tested the e-brake or it somehow fixed itself on the ride to the garage. Personally, I wasn't about to ask.

While I was internally ecstatic, I suddenly had the issue of needing to drive two cars home. I didn't want to leave my truck there and openly admit I drove myself over because they should have failed me, so I jumped in my truck, drove it up the street to where the other car was parked and did a quick exchange like I was in the mafia and trying to shake an FBI tail, a la Joe Pesci in "Casino". I drove the second car home, then had to get a ride back to the other parking lot where my truck was now parked.

Overall the entire process was a lot more convoluted than it ever should have been, all because I had convinced myself of an outcome that didn't come to pass. So, let that be a lesson to me going forward: I need to stop worrying about things I can't control and instead of planning for the worst maybe I should start expecting the better outcome and plan for that instead. Or, at the very least, only get my car tested at this garage going forward.

Now You're In Trouble, Tiger

Despite all the issues that Tiger Woods has gone through over the past three years (the public and simultaneous collapse of his marriage and carefully-crafted image, the constant string of injuries which have led to whispers about possible steroid use, the sudden disappearance of that famed golf game which has led to constant tinkering and switching of coaches, to his precipitous slide down the world golf rankings) I had always stayed on the side which believed Tiger Woods would eventually return to form and wind up breaking Jack Nicklaus' record of 18 Major victories. He was just too good for too long for me to believe it had all gone away. But, in watching Rory McIlroy lap the field en-route to winning his first U.S. Open title by 8 strokes and a record 16 under-par, I suddenly find myself wavering in that belief.

The main reason I had held on to my faith in Tiger Woods did not come solely from the man himself, but also from the people he was being asked to contend with on his quest. None of the players who had won major titles during Tiger's three-year drought ever struck me as the kind of dynamic stars who would be able to stand up under the weight of the Tiger Woods mystique once he returned to his dominate form. Surely they were all better golfers than I could ever hope to be on my best day and each was capable of putting a magical run together for one week, but I just didn't see a single person who I though would be able to be paired with Tiger on the last day of a major, stare at him eye-to-eye and come away with a victory. They all struck me as nothing more than seat-fillers. They may get one or two, but no one person was going to stop Tiger in his long-term goal. Rory McIlroy changed that feeling.

The biggest sports discussion in golf when Tiger was laying waste in the mid-2000s was "Tiger or the field"? You always took the field, the odds said you had to, but you never felt entirely comfortable with that bet. What if Woods sank a few putts, got himself into that final pairing and suddenly hit a big shot during that first nine? Whoever was paired with him was surely going to collapse under that pressure and your money was as good as gone. But McIlroy is the first player who gives me a feeling that, if he were in that situation, he would simply look around, give Tiger a grin and say, "Hey, ain't this cool?" After playing most of his career in a world in which he could take off for months at a time, then return to find his throne comfortably waiting for him, suddenly it appears that Tiger might finally have someone vying for that crown.

Working in McIlroy's favor isn't just his age (22), but the fact that he has played the majority of his time on the PGA Tour while Tiger has been trying to work through all his post-Thanksgiving-car-crash issues. Rory has never had to play against Tiger Woods at full strength (and probably never will). As such, McIlroy simply doesn't carry the same scar tissue that the players who spent their prime years getting their collective hearts ripped out by Woods do. Talk of Woods as the ultimate closer are nothing more than words to Rory. You may as well be talking about how Arnold Palmer used to play. Youthful ignorance really is bliss.

Some might say that Rory hasn't really proven he can handle the pressure, as he shot an 80 at Augusta National last month to turn a 4-shot lead into a 10-shot loss and that this one win doesn't erase the previous failure. While that is true, in that way McIlroy's back-nine collapse at this year's Master's was a blessing in disguise. He not only appears to be no worse for wear, but it actually looks as though the experience toughened him up. Watching his round on Sunday there was no look of panic when he made a bogey and he never stopped being aggressive with his shots, as if he wasn't worried about a mistake snowballing into two or three because he knew he would be fine. It honestly appears as though he has taken his Master's disappointment and turned it into motivation to never let it happen again.

Also, the classy way Rory handled losing at Augusta has made him a media darling. Pretty much everyone was openly rooting for him to close the deal on Sunday. Even Tiger Woods, while everyone is willing to admit his greatness, has his detractors in the press. Not this kid. Rory already has a lot of Twitter followers, is well-liked by his fellow pro-golfers and shows a media-savvy that belies his age. That buys you a lot of leeway in the media tent. He can have a bad round and not worry about the 10,000 questions Tiger would get about what's wrong with his game.

Now, don't get it twisted, I'm not saying Rory McIlroy is about to go on a stretch of winning 5 or 6 majors in a row. In fact, I fully expect him to go into a mini-slump as he has to learn to deal with the sudden pressure and fame that goes along with being a Major champion at the ripe old age of 22. But, once he figures that out, watch out. I think until Tiger comes back, and then even when he does, Rory is going to be brought up as one of the favorites for every tournament he enters. It will now be "Tiger, Rory or the field"? Basically, after watching all this potential being realised, I don't think Tiger should count on being able to bank majors into his late-40s like Jack. If Tiger wants to get to the magic number of 19, he'd better get while the getting is good. For the first time ever, I'm not sure he's going be able to.

Happy Father's Day!

I want to wish all the dads out there
a very Happy Father's Day!

Especially Simon, celebrating his first

Father's Day, as well as Matt,

Marshall and my Dad!

Enjoy your day!

Weekly Sporties

-Lost in all the celebrations following the Bruins' Stanley Cup Championship is the fact the Dallas Mavericks just won their first NBA crown a couple days earlier. Like all of America I was rooting for the Mavericks to beat the Miami Heat, mostly because I think this was the last chance anyone outside of Miami was going to have to win one for a while. The Heat were two wins away this year and that was without any kind of bench help. They are going to be at least 20% better next year with a full training camp together and the chance to sign better veterans who are desperate for one last shot at a ring. Frankly, everyone had to get while the getting was good.

-Another reason I was rooting for the Mavericks is because I want to see just how crazy Mark Cuban is going to go with the Championship celebration. For those of you who don't follow the sport, Cuban is exact the kind of owner you and I would be if we won the lottery and could afford to buy a professional sports organization: he sits just off the end of the bench during games, calls out the refs in public and I honestly think he considers himself the 16th man on the team. He was the first guy to pimp out the team charter and home locker rooms in an attempt to woo free agents to Dallas and has pretty much said money is no obstacle. Seriously, a diamond-encrusted championship banner is not out of the realm of possibilities. I'm excited to see how this turns out.

-Everyone is crapping on LeBron James following the Heat loss, as if the entire thing was his fault. Coming to his defense? The only athlete who could truly say they know exactly what LeBron is going through, Alex Rodriguez. However, considering Alex still hasn't been fully embraced by the Yankee fans despite finally winning a World Series (they have, at best, decided they have to support him as long as he still plays there, but would really prefer it if he were traded) and is pretty much the most hated man in baseball outside of New York, you have to assume James is thinking, "Dude, you're not helping."

-I will say this about all the LeBron hate: Cleveland, I am officially tired of hearing from you. The day after the Finals ended everyone in Cleveland was talking about how happy they were that the Mavericks won, that they will never forgive James and he will forever be public enemy #1 to them. Alright, guys, we gave you a year. That's enough now. He's a professional athlete who decided to switch teams, not the guy who stole your wife. How about concentrating on building your current team into a championship contender versus spending all your time worrying about what the other guy is doing. Win a title before he does and you'll forever have the last laugh.

-One last NBA note: two years after being drafted in the first round by Minnesota and subsequently being terrible while playing for his Spanish League team, Ricky Rubio has apparently agreed to a deal to come and play in the NBA. At the time he was drafted everyone thought Rubio was going to be the next great European passer and be a mix of Pete Maravich and Steve Nash. Now? He just scored 3 points in his team's 3 playoff games (and this is European basketball, where no one plays any defense). People would settle for him being Steve Kerr.

-The big news from the world of golf this week is that Steve Williams, longtime caddy for Tiger Woods, would be caddying for Adam Scott at this year's U.S. Open. Williams says he is doing so with the full support of Woods, who can't play while he is injured. Sorry to be the one to break it to you, Stevie, but you're about to get fired. Much like when your girlfriend suddenly lets you out of a social engagement you didn't want to go to anyway, it's a bad omen, not a stroke of luck. Tiger telling you to find another job for the week is a precursor to you working for someone else full-time. Frankly, I didn't think Williams was going to make it passed that interview last year in which he said if he had known what Tiger was doing with all those girls he would have said something to his wife. He hung on longer than expected.

-There are reports out this week that the NFL has been holding secret labor negotiations and a deal to end the lockout is 80%-85% done. I desperately need this to be true. Seriously, with the basketball and hockey seasons over the only thing I have to entertain me until college football starts are two (very-likely) Tiger-less golf majors and about 60 meaningless baseball games. I need mini-camps, off-season trades and free agency to hold me over. C'mon, NFL, don't make me care about a late-July, 3-game series between the Royals and the Red Sox out of a lack of other options. That would just be cruel.

I Should Be Taking Notes

If I'm not watching sports then I'm most likely watching some type of survival show. I love the shows which show you what you should be doing in the event you somehow get trapped on top of an Arctic glacier for the night or get lost while hiking through an Amazonian jungle. (I think I love these shows because those are the exact scenarios I find myself constantly worrying about.) My favorites of these shows used to be "Survivorman", where they would stick one guy out in the woods by himself and come back in a week to see how he did. But since that is no longer in production I've latched on to the newest show, "Duel Survival".

The show takes two mismatched nature guides (one a hippy who never wears shoes and the other a former Army Specialist) and sticks them in various survival situations. The hippy doesn't want to disturb Mother Earth unless he has to, while the retired Army sniper spends the entire episode trying to kill an animal for food and poking at cobras he finds in the bushes. (That's not an exaggeration, either. One episode he kept poking at this cobra while saying that one bite could kill 10 men. Then leave it the hell alone, you idiot.) It comes across as a mix between "Survivorman" and "The Odd Couple", which I'm sure is what they were going for.

It's pretty entertaining and while they admit that several of the situations are staged for TV, it doesn't always come across that way. The big exception is for the final rescue at the end of the show. Most episodes ends when the pair appears to 'stumble' upon people who can bring them back to civilization. They always make a comment about how lucky they were to find these rescuers, who are usually natives and not in on the concept of TV production and therefore often have a look on their faces that say, "Wait, didn't you tell us to meet you guys here on Thursday at 4 o'clock? Are we early or something?"

Now, because I enjoy these shows and watch so many of them, you may start to think I have picked a few tips up just through osmosis. Sadly, that is not anywhere near the truth. Much like my golf game is too filled with swing thoughts because I'm trying to do every tip I've ever heard at the same time, my survival instincts are pulled in 15 different directions because I have seen so many of these shows and they all tell you to do different things first. As such, you end up doing none of them correctly.

I was thinking about this last weekend was I was down on rainy Cape Cod, shivering the night away because I didn't check the weather report and brought neither a sweatshirt or long pants. Honestly, if I can't handle two nights in Wareham with running water and electricity, what chance do I have against trying to cross an Arabian desert? I wasn't planning to take that trip anytime soon, but if I was I would seriously have to consider calling my travel agent and cancelling.

Game 7 Ramblings...

Admittedly, I don't watch a ton of hockey. But when the local team is in a Game 7 of the Stanley Cup Finals, I make an exception. Here are a few thoughts picked up along the way...

-Having never played anything more than floor hockey in my life I have obviously never attended a hockey practice, but after watching the last few games I really wonder what they do there. I mean, every goal appears to be completely by accident; coming off a deflection or rebound instead of a set play. I'm not saying there isn't some game-planning involved, but I just wonder if they simply skate around and give the goalies a workout. I just can't imagine it's like a football or basketball practice where you run the same play 15 times until the coach is happy, then run it 5 more just to make sure.

-Following the loss, some Vancouver residents took to the streets to riot, flipping cars, breaking windows and setting things on fire. Some people are going to say this shows just what happens when people are too passionate about sports, but I don't think that is the case at all because I don't think those are actual hockey fans. I think those are assholes, simply looking for any excuse to be an asshole, as it always happens when a team wins a championship. They were planning to riot no matter what the outcome was.

-Speaking of assholes, I understand that it is tradition to boo the Commissioner when he comes out to present the championship trophy. (This isn't just a hockey thing, either. Every sport does this.) However, I thought the Vancouver fans were exceptionally hard on Gary Bettman. There is a line where "playful booing of 'the man'" crosses into, "this is flat-out mean" and the Canuck fans crossed that line in a hurry. I don't understand it. I mean, it's not like they were in Winnipeg or Quebec, both of which lost their teams under Bettman's watch. (Even though Winnipeg is finally getting a new team, I could still understand them being upset at him.) Why is he so reviled in Canada?

-It's not like Boston doesn't have its own idiots, though. Following the game the local news went out to interview "fans" who were celebrating at local bars. One guy in his mid-20s tried to prove his street cred by looking into the camera and saying, "I know my history. The Bruins haven't won a Cup since 1972." Oh, really? You know the stat which has been bludgeoned into everyone's head for the past two weeks? That is a little like saying you know what Anthony Weiner's Twitter handle is. If you want to prove to everyone that you're a hockey-lifer you are going to have to work a little harder than simply memorizing a number which was shown roughly 50 times last night.

-Canucks forward Daniel Sedin took a little heat before the game because he said Vancouver was going to win Game 7. Personally, I didn't see the big deal. I mean, that is how you expect athletes to feel. To me the more disturbing issue was when he backed off the comments before the game, saying he didn't quite phrase it like that. I thought that was a really bad sign for Vancouver. C'mon, man, show some backbone. Even if you didn't quite say it like that, make people think you did. If you don't believe you're going to win then why should anyone else?

-I tweeted this last night, but I just want to say a second time how great I thought it was that Vancouver's stadium played "Dirty Water" for the Bruins as they skated with the Cup. They showed a tremendous amount of class in defeat. Much like the St. Louis Cardinals allowing Red Sox fans who were outside the stadium to enter Game 4 when it became clear the Sox were about to win, this is only going to raise my already-high opinion of the people of Vancouver. I can only hope that if the situations were reversed Boston would handle it the same way.

Happy Hunting

It never fails - whenever you don't need something, you are constantly pushing it out of your way and then the second you need it, it is nowhere to be found. This can happen with just about everything, but it is especially annoying when it involves larger items you have to drive around looking for. The other day I had to mail a letter (a strange concept, I know). I could not, for the life of me, find a damn mailbox. If I had been in my own town I would have known exactly where one was, but since I was down on the Cape I had to search all over and I could not locate one. It took me way longer than it should have. Anyway, that got me to thinking about all the things we used to see everywhere, but are now increasingly hard to find out in the wild and which you have to go hunting for.

This led to me remembering back to when I was in high school and there used to be something called the 'Senior Scavenger Hunt', where kids formed teams and had to drive all over town trying to find things on a list. Then, like all the things during my time in high school which were cool for the grades just above me, some parents got involved because they thought it might be a safety issue, the teachers started a school-sponsored (read:lame) scavenger hunt where you didn't need to take the actual item, just a picture of yourself with it and the entire thing was immediately ruined. (Honestly, the same group of like 15 parents of unpopular children destroyed my high school experience.) Therefore, I never bothered to do my Senior Scavenger Hunt.

However, I did see the list for our Senior Scavenger Hunt and it consisted of things like a yearbook from before 1980, so I imagine this year's graduating class was out trying to find something that seems equally crazy-old to them.... like a TV antenna. Since they will already be out hunting, allow me to tack on a few more hard-to-find items for them to take a crack at tracking down.

-A still-in-business video store (5 points): No, a RedBox doesn't count.

-A Pager (10 points): A relic from back in the day when the only text messages you could get were '911', 'boobs' or 'baseball' if your friends were feeling really ambitious.

-A working payphone (15 points): Oh, payphones are everywhere. But just try and find one that will give you a dial-tone.

-A computer that still connects to the Internet through dial-up (20 Points): Honestly, even everybody's grandmother has a cable connection by now, right?

-A Phone Booth (25 points): Really, are there even any of these standing anymore? And if you can find a phone booth with a working pay phone in it then you should just go home, because you've won.

Silence Isn't Always Golden

Last Friday my dad and I ventured down to Wareham to begin Phase 1 of the new deck project. Since it was such a nice day and the forecast for the next couple of days was not nearly as sunny we decided to take the opportunity to play a quick round at Little Harbor. I was really excited for my dad to see the place since I had been hyping it up so much the last couple of years. The round was going well and my father was playing very well for a guy who only tees it up once a year and was playing with a set of clubs that had been cobbled together from four or five sets, all of which were probably older than me. (You would think, given how often I go to the driving range I would be playing much better than my dad. Yeah, not so much.)

Everything was going great until we got to the split tees at #5 and #14. (Loyal readers may remember this is the same tee box I was on when the old ladies coming off of #13 yelled in the middle of my backswing that I should be on the far set of tees. This was something I was well aware of, as I was already on the far set of tees.) Anyway, my father and I were waiting to play #14 as a threesome was preparing to play #5. Our group was farther along, so my dad and I got to go first. I stepped to the tee and placed my ball, trying to concentrate on all the things I have been told to concentrate on: keeping my weight centered, my elbow straight, my grip from getting too tight. The problem was the threesome behind me was talking just loud enough to be distracting.

Now, I have said many times that professional golfers' insistence on working in complete silence is one of the things which make it very hard to defend golf as a real sport. After all, the ball is just sitting there, I don't know why they can't hit with some noise going on. Baseball players can get killed if a pitch hits them in the head, yet people are allowed to scream whatever they feel like at those guys. Well, allow me to say that I would prefer the yelling versus people talking just loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to be understood. A yelling crowd would have been easier to block out compared to these three people discussing their dinner plans in a half-whisper. Still, I just kept my head down (never shooting them a dirty look or anything) and tried harder to focus on what I was doing. Then, it got worse.

You see, they then did the one thing I really didn't want them to do: they stopped talking. Because now I was acutely aware they had stopped talking and the silence became deafening. Also, without looking up I figured this probably meant they were watching me and if there is one thing I like less than people I don't know yelling in my backswing, it's people I don't know watching me tee off. Not surprisingly, I topped my drive, which went a grand total of 80 yards (and that's being generous) to the right and came to a stop under a tree. Meanwhile my father took a 3-wood that was actually made of wood and slapped it down the center of the fairway.

So, yes, I can see why professional golfers would find people talking to be distracting. However, I hardly found the total silence to be a much more comfortable situation. I think what they need is some kind of happy medium in which people can make all the noise they want, so long as they don't stop, because I think going from low-level talking to complete quiet is far more jarring. Or maybe I just need to get better at golf.

It's Never The One You Expect

There is an old racing adage which states it's never the big crashes you have to worry about it. The logic behind the saying is that racecars are designed to disintegrate and lose energy, so when you see them flipping 50 times while being ripped to shreds that is exactly how they are expected to perform and the driver should walk away; it is when they hit the wall and stop suddenly that people end up getting hurt. Basically, the worse it looks, the safer it probably is. It is the same thing which happens in other sports as well - the really horrific collisions rarely result in catastrophic injury, whereas the guy who wasn't even touched ends up tearing his Achilles and cutting his season short. I was thinking about this the other day as I found myself outside during a thunderstorm, cutting up a tree. Allow me to explain.

There is a tree in the front of the yard which I am 75% sure is dead. It is fairly mangled and while one or two branches produce leaves, for the most part it doesn't show many signs of life. After we lost a different tree in the front yard following a storm last winter I began preparing myself for this tree to randomly fall in a similar fashion. Therefore, when storms which produced deadly tornadoes ripped through the state of Massachusetts two weeks ago, I thought that would be the end of that tree. The way the weathermen were tracking the storms as they approached I half expected the tree to cut itself down to save everybody the time. Turns out, I was wrong and it survived the storms without any problems.

Then at the end of last week we had a much smaller, much weaker line of storms come through. Compared to the tornado-producing storms, these lines of showers got far less news coverage and much less hype. So, you can imagine my surprise when I looked out my window to see that a much larger, much healthier tree from the other side of the yard had snapped in half and was now laying across the driveway. There hadn't been nearly as much rain, barely any wind and I hadn't heard a sound and yet there it was, blocking anyone from getting in or out.

A closer inspection revealed it had snapped a few feet off the ground. Like I said there hadn't been any big gusts of wind and even if there had been the tree was surrounded by other trees on all sides, so I'm wondering if it was struck by lighting. Anyway, I was going to let it stay there until the storm was over, but that wasn't going to be for a while and people need to use the driveway, so at first I just tried to drag it out of the way. However, you may be shocked to learn that I can't drag 60 feet of tree anywhere.

So in the middle of this thunderstorm we had to head out there with my trusty Gator and at least cut the top half of the tree down to the point cars could go up and down the driveway. Again, this was easier said than done because the Gator can only fit so much between its claws. It is not designed to cut through entire trees and the trunk of this tree was very thick. Still, it performed admirably, got the driveway clear and we were able to retreat back inside before the next line of powerful storms got too close. Meanwhile, the mostly dead tree wasn't even swaying in the breeze.

Let this be a lesson to us all: when you're too busy concentrating on one specific thing you can be totally blindsided by something from the other side which you never saw coming. Oh, and don't ask me about trees, because clearly I have no idea whether a tree is in great shape or about to collapse.

What Else Could It Be?

Unless there was a holiday or some other special occasion which occurred during the week, when it comes time to pick the weekly musical interlude I like to see if there was a central theme of my posting over the past few days and find a song that sums that theme up. Normally, I have to scramble to find one because I like to keep my topics varied. However, this week I had not one, not two, but three posts about something that I thought about while standing around waiting in various lines. As such the musical interlude seemed to pick itself. I'll work on switching it up a little more next week.

Weekly Sporties

-In the least shocking news ever, this week Terrelle Pryor announced that, after careful consideration, he would not return to Ohio State for his senior season after all. I'm sure the fact that it was recently revealed he may have made as much as $40,000 last year for selling autographed memorabilia had nothing to do with it. Pryor expects to be picked in the NFL's supplemental draft, whenever that eventually happens. (Personally, I don't share his optimism.) Also, I'm trying to figure out who thought his autograph was worth that much money. I mean, I may have bought way too much Ron Mercer merchandise back in the day, but at least I was paying reasonable prices.

-So, the MLB draft happened this past week. Now, I never watch a second of this thing because 90% of these guys are never going to make it to the big leagues and those that do usually break through with a different team than the one that drafted them. However, that doesn't mean I don't love to read the recaps of the draft for a couple of different reasons. First off, it doesn't have a set number of picks. Teams can just choose names until they don't feel like it anymore. As such, you can see who has the endurance to still be picking guys in the 50th round after everybody else has given up. Secondly, because any body picked after the 30th round is pretty much a total guess, after a while General Managers just start picking names for fun. If your father ever played in the majors, chances are you got drafted for name recognition alone. Then they start taking guys who don't even play baseball anymore. Hell, I might have been drafted and not know about it yet. Hope I at least get a free hat out of it.

-Speaking of the MLB draft, last year's #1 pick, Bryce Harper, is causing a stir because after homering off a pitcher in A-ball the other day he slowed down on the third baseline and blew the guy a kiss. All the baseball purists, already known as a stuffy bunch, are flipping out at how disrespectful this seems. Wait, are you telling me a guy who skipped high school to play baseball, got drafted first overall, was made a multi-millionaire before turning 19 and is now hitting roughly .800 at the Single-A level may be a little bit cocky? I am shocked.

-Tiger Woods announced this week that due to lingering injuries he will be unable to compete in this year's US Open. While I'm sad for Tiger, in the long tun this may be the best thing for him. Just take the summer off, get totally healthy and fix your head and your swing. Going out, half-assing it and being a non-factor in most golf tournaments isn't helping anyone. I'd rather he take as much time as he needs off and doesn't come back until he can be the Tiger we all remember (or as close to it as possible). You may not like the man, but golf is better when Tiger Woods is playing well.

-While on the subject of golf, it was revealed this week that President Obama and Speaker of the House John Boehner will be teeing it up together next Saturday. I have to be honest with you, I'm not sure Obama wants to win this one. You know how when Steve Spurrier took over the Redskins they told him really good football coaches can't be really good golfers? With all the problems facing the nation right now, I'm not sure Obama wants to be seen as a guy with enough time on his hands to be a really good golfer. Maybe he should miss the occasional 3-footer on purpose.

-Last weekend following a truck race, 26 year-old Kyle Busch (last seen driving 128 mph on a country road) was sucker punched by 65 year-old car owner Richard Childress. Childress was fined $150,000 while Busch was let off without any discipline because he was not seen as the instigator. However, it should be noted that no one seemed too pissed at Childress. You know how I'm always saying that if you have issues with more than 4 people it's probably not them, it's you? Well, if you're getting sucker-punched by a man forty years older than you and everyone is on his side then it's definitely you. You are the asshole.

-After running unopposed because every other opponent was caught up in some type of bribery scandal, newly-reelected FIFA President Sepp Blatter vowed he was going to clean up the organization by forming a "Council of Wisdom" to look into it. One of the first people he asked to be on the committee? Opera singer Placido Domingo. I don't have a joke to add here, I just thought that was awesome. Seriously, I couldn't make that up. If this kind of insanity keeps up, I'm gonna have to start following soccer.

It's A Miracle

You may recall a few months back when I mentioned that half the buttons on my iDock had suddenly decided to stop working. I could play or pause the songs, but any toggling back and forth or changing of the volume would have to be done through the remote. What enhanced my frustration level was that this happened suddenly and with no reason because the iDock hadn't been dropped, crushed or otherwise harmed. The buttons just decided not to work anymore. Still, I couldn't bring myself to throw the thing away because it would still play music and even though it wasn't very convenient, I could still perform the other functions with the remote. Plus, the timer still worked, and that was the only thing I really needed it for anyway. So, like most other things in life, I learned to live with it.

Therefore, imagine my surprise the other day when all the buttons started working again, also for no reason. It was the weirdest thing: I was trying to get the iDock to play the radio, when I remembered that I hadn't finished up a podcast I had recently downloaded. Having a half-second of amnesia I pressed the toggle button on the machine, fully expecting nothing to happen, as had been the case for the previous few months. Only this time the buttons worked and everything worked as it should have. Not only that, but now every button was back to normal like the thing was fresh out of the box. I hadn't even been trying to fix it; just like it broke for no reason, it repaired itself for no reason.

At first I started trying to figure out why this was happening, but couldn't find a reason. It wasn't like I had pressed some strange button for the first time or suddenly thought of some new move to try. Even if I had, I doubt that iDocks come equipped with a "make half the buttons not work for several months" feature. (Honestly, why would you even make that feature?) After marvelling at this sudden turn of events I decided to just say screw it, not question why it happened and just be happy that it did. Sometimes, objects are just quirky and you should leave it alone.

But, for the record, this is why the show "Hoarders" exists. There is that little part in the back of people's brains that tell them they should hang on to something, because you just never know. The smart thing would have been to throw this thing out when the buttons first broke and simply gotten a new one. However, by hanging on to it, everything worked out in my favor. Score one for me. [Sidebar: That being said, "Hoarders" might be the creepiest show ever. If I ever start refusing to throw away empty wrappers because I think something about them might be important, please don't hesitate to intervene. My faith that things are going to fix themselves should only go so far.]

More Line Time

The other day I was in my truck, sitting in the line at the drive-through. [Sidebar: You know, if you read this blog everyday you may start to think I stand in line for a living. I promise you that is not the case. It is just where I have the most time to think about subjects to blog about.] Anyway, as I was pulling in I could instinctively tell the woman in the mini-van in front of me was going to be a problem. I counted five little heads bouncing around and God only knew if there were more people that I couldn't see hiding in the vehicle somewhere. It did not take a detective to guess she was not going to be placing a small order. As such I ditched out of my truck and took the time to walk into the restaurant.

While standing in line inside (yeah, the move backfired on me), I began to realise that there should be a limit to how many people you are allowed to order for at the drive-through. The entire point of it is so that people can speed along and get right back to what they were doing. If you are ordering for an entire Little League roster then you should get out of your car and go inside because you are going to take far too long and hold us all up. I sympathise with loading and unloading all those kids in and out of your car, but not to the point I'm willing to be late to an appointment because of it.

I think the main reason I get annoyed when people cause lines to clog is because I go out of my way to not be the person causing the clog. As anyone who has been in my car can testify, my cup holders are filled with change. That change is specifically for these types of situations. I don't want the people behind me to have to wait while the people at the window make change - I want to be able to give them precisely what they require and be on my merry way. It is a service I provide for both the workers and my fellow line-mates. All I'm asking in is that people try and return the favor.

So, here's my solution. Much like the supermarkets, fast food restaurants should have lanes based on order size. (However, unlike the supermarkets, the numbers should actually be enforced.) Three people or less in one lane, four-to-seven in the next and if you are ordering for seven to ten people people, your lane will guide you over to the parking lot, because you should get out at that point. And if you are ordering for more than ten people, frankly, you should have your own private room. At least that way you get some small perk for you troubles.

Running Commentary

The other day I was behind a guy in line at one of those new vending machines which has a device on the front of it where you can slide your credit card and pay for your drink that way (because who doesn't want to finance their $2 soda at 8% interest?). Anyway, despite being young enough that technology shouldn't be blowing his mind, the guy in front of me was very impressed by this feature. I know this because he was giving his own minute-by-minute recap as the transaction was going down, out loud and to no one in particular. It went a little something like this:

"Let's see here. Slide card." (Oh, did I mention he was an out-loud reader as well? Awesome.) So he slides his card.
"Make selection. Oh, what do I want? I guess Pepsi will be good." (Good thing since we were standing at a Pepsi machine. If he wanted a Diet Coke he would have been shit out of luck.) He hits the giant Pepsi logo, the screen says 'vend' (which he reads) and out comes the bottle of Pepsi.
"Nice! That's cool." (Yes, you paid your money and got what you selected. It's a miracle.)

Meanwhile, I'm standing behind the guy with my exact change, just trying to buy my drink and get on with my day, desperately hoping no one else in the area makes a comment, because that would only encourage him. I'm very familiar with these kind of people, who want nothing more than for you to acknowledge their comments, because it opens the door for a conversation and the next thing you know they are telling you their entire life story (trust me, this happens to me all the time).

Now, I'm not one to make fun of a guy just because he's got some kind of running dialog going down in his brain. Some of my best conversations of the day are the ones that take place inside my head and almost nothing happens to me where I don't have some sort of remark at the ready. The difference is I keep them to myself in social situations. No one wants to hear your thoughts on every thing that happens to you, while it's going on. Frankly, it's kind of annoying. Dude, have some self-respect and start a blog like the rest of us.

Admirable Arrogance

If you asked people, most would say they are very put off by arrogance. Not me. Sure, I don't like people who are very cocky, but when they have managed to blow passed that level and gone into full-blown arrogance, it's an entirely different emotion. It is actually impressive to watch someone who has so much confidence in themselves they are willing to ignore facts and reason when it comes to their own abilities. We should all have such self-confidence.

I bring this up because last night I was watching the only reality show I enjoy, The Golf Channel's "Big Break". For those of you who don't watch (which I'm guessing is approximately 98% of my readers), the show takes 11 amateur golfers, puts them through a series of challenges, eliminating one player a week and the winner of the show gets money, an endorsement contract and a sponsor's exemption into a PGA Tour event. It's a big deal and if you manage to win it could really change your life forever.

The thing is none of these guys are very good. Obviously, they're better than me, they just aren't good enough to be professional golfers. I mean, if they were they wouldn't need to be on the show. Much like "American Idol" I'm pretty sure only one or two of the people who have ever appeared on the show have gone on to have any success. But you would never know it from hearing these guys talk about themselves. They reminded me of every D-III athlete I have ever known, who all believe they would be in the pros if they had just played for a different coach or had been seen by the right scout. The fact that they are undersized and slow have nothing to do with it, it is someone else's fault.

The guy eliminated last week, who only had survived the previous two shows because people played even worse than he did, went on a rant about how he was still the best golfer on the show, he could beat every person there, he was a "legendary ball-striker" and figured he would just go out and Monday-qualify, then win a PGA event. Clearly, that wasn't going to happen because the guy couldn't hit the green from a waste bunker, but his delusions of grandeur were inspiring. This guy was also what I liked to call "later tough" meaning he would say nothing in the moment but after it was over, when it was just him and a camera, he would talk about how the other guy was lucky he didn't kick his teeth in. Because apparently in addition to being an amazing golfer this 5'9", 160 lb guy was also the toughest man alive. Again, to watch him say this and know that in his heart that he believed every word was inspiring.

I think the reason I am impressed by people who have such arrogance is that I just don't. I'm very confident in my abilities, but instead of encouraging me, the voice in my head is always telling me I could do it a little better (this is also why I am my own worst editor). I'm not saying the world would be a better place if everyone went around like that, inflating their abilities, because in actuality it would lead to nothing but empty promises and unfulfilled guarantees. However, I think we could all stand to have the voice in our head being a little more arrogant. Maybe just keep it to yourself. Or, at the very least, don't go on national TV and tell everyone how great a golfer you are when you just left a 20-foot putt 9 feet short.

Don't Encourage Them

The other day I was out doing a very small amount of food shopping and only had six items in my little basket. As such I went to the Express Checkout Lane, which was designed for just such an occasion. (Actually, I usually use self-checkout, but that wasn't offered, which is a whole other post for a whole other day.) There were only two people ahead of me, one of which was a single guy with two items and his cash in his hand, so I knew he would be quick. In front of him was a woman with a fuller basket and coupons, but I decided to roll the dice since it still seemed like this was going to be the fastest line. However, she took long enough that I had time to look around and that was when I glanced up at the sign above the register:

Express Lane.
Around 12 items or fewer.

Um, excuse me, but what the hell is with this 'around' stuff? Since when did supermarkets start playing so fast and loose with the rules? The whole point of an express lane is to limit the number of item so that everything moves quickly. If you start allowing anyone to show up with any number of items that defeats the entire purpose, don't you think? Immediately my eyes shot back to the woman at the front of the line, because God help her if she like 15 items in her cart. Fortunately, she was right at the 12 item limit.

I'm sure this is the result of too many people getting into the Express line with 13 or 14 items and the person behind them starting to complain, which the kid working the register simply does want to hear. As someone who once worked a register, I get that. We've covered this before: complain up, not across. Plus, you could make the case that buying 14 of the same item is technically just one item because it is very easy to ring up. (You'd be wrong to make that case though; that should still count as 14 items, in case you were wondering.)

I think the main reason this concerns me is because of the vague nature of the word 'around'. I'm a precise man, I need precise guidelines. I need to know if I showed up with 20 items is that too many, or does it fall into the category of close enough? What is the buffer I'm allowed to work with? At what point will I begin to draw the ire of everyone behind me in line? I think the problem is that deep down people know there are not going to be any real repercussions, even if you go way over 12 items. You're still going to get rung up and it's not like they are going to put you in supermarket jail.

I simply don't like the precedent this sets. Just because a lot of people break a law that doesn't mean it isn't a law anymore. If enough people start speeding down a road, do they raise the speed limit? No, of course not. If you aren't going to hold people to the express lane limits, then what is the point of having them? Lastly, (and probably most importantly) if you are going to allow people to employ a "close, but not quite" attitude in the supermarket, can we use that when it comes to prices?

A Sticky Interlude

Every song has the ability to get stuck in someone's head. All it takes is hearing the correct refrain at the right moment and you'll be hearing that song in your head for the next week, whether you like it or not. On some occasions, you don't even have to hear the song; just a key word from the song and suddenly it's stuck in your brain. For example, if I even hear the word "Istanbul" then all I can think about is the They Might Be Giants song, "Istanbul (Not Constantinople)". And as easy as it is for me to get a song stuck in my head on a normal occasion, They Might Be Giants songs get stuck and simply will not leave. I've been humming this song for the last few days. All I can do at this point is hope that if I play it 400 times over the next week my brain will get tired of it and forget the words. I doubt it, but I'll try anything.

Weekly Sporties

-Now that Shaquille O'Neal officially retired (I will refrain from making the bitter Celtic fan joke about him actually retiring in February and just not telling anyone), people have been trying to figure out his place in history. I'll be honest, I always viewed Shaq as a guy who really should have been a lot better than he ended up. I thought he could have really dominated if he put his mind to it. Occasionally he would decide to take over the game (which was even more annoying, because you saw the brilliance that could have been there all the time), just not frequently enough to make him the top center of all time. I have him behind Russell, Chamberlain and Abdul-Jabbar, but ahead of guys like Olajuwon.

-Speaking of former Celtic big-men, last week Kevin McHale agreed to become the head coach of the Houston Rockets, which I just don't get. Not that I don't think he's a good head coach, but because I didn't think it was something he was interested in. The two times the Timberwolves demanded he come down and coach the mess he had created he almost seemed hostile to the idea. McHale was always great on TV, an ok coach and a terrible executive, so I assumed he would stay as an analyst. I'm going to be very interested to see how this works out. I don't have particularly high hopes.

-Before the NBA Finals started, ESPN did a story about a party that Mavericks forward DeShawn Stevenson threw prior to the start of the season, where he invited the entire team to his house and also had his personal tattoo artist available should anyone want one. Jason Terry got the Larry O'Brien trophy tattooed on his bicep. Everyone talks about how this was a great bit of foreshadowing on Terry's part. I'm sitting here wondering why DeShawn Stevenson has a personal tattoo artist.

-Speaking of tattoos, on Monday Ohio State football coach Jim Tressel decided to resign after even more indiscretions by football players under Tressel's watch were scheduled to come to light. What's amazing to me are all the people who still defend Tressel, even though he's the one who decided not to bring the violations to attention of the NCAA compliance office. Most Ohio State fans still just blame the players. Seriously, Tressel is Teflon to these people - it's amazing. Some people have even decided to use this as an excuse to re-visit the debate over paying football players, saying this proves they need money to survive. That argument would hold a lot more weight if the players were selling their gear for food or books. They were trading their stuff for tattoos, which you don't actually need. Nice try, though.

-The man at the center of this scandal is quarterback Terrelle Pryor. In addition to the tattoo issues, Pryor has also been seen driving around campus with a suspended licence and in a new car every couple of months (he does not come from the type of money that would make this possible). If I'm an Ohio State fan, as mad as I am about the fact the school is facing serious issues, I would be extra mad that we were facing these problems because of that guy. At least Maurice Clarett helped win a National Championship. Pryor isn't even good enough to justify all these gifts. If you're going to be a jerk who plays while expecting special treatment, at least win. Just ask Cam Newton.

-Sounds like Daisuke Matsuzaka is going to have Tommy John surgery, which will effectively end his tenure with the Red Sox. While his time here could best be described as 'rocky', I don't look at the Dice-K signing as a bad deal. Everyone focuses on the price the Red Sox had to pay just to negotiate with him, but I choose to look at it as a massive marketing campaign. Before Dice-K every Japanese prospect would only sign with the Yankees, because that was the only team they knew. If there is just one great Japanese prospect down the line who signs with the Red Sox because he grew up with a picture of Matsuzaka wearing a Red Sox uniform above his bed then it will turn out to be money well spent.

Losing Life's Randomness

I've previously written about my love of the commercials produced at the public access stations for local businesses. You know the ones: they show up after a half-second of a national ad and the sudden drop in quality is often so jarring it's the most memorable thing about the commercial. They are usually for some local business where the owner of the company is the star, trying to show off acting chops that he really doesn't have and half the time the audio doesn't even sync up correctly. Still, it is because they are so ghetto that I love everything about them - the stunted acting, the horrible "special" effects and jilted editing are so bad they're good. However, there is another reason I love them: occasionally, I know some of these people.

The other night I was watching "SportsCenter" when an ad came on for a local sporting goods store. While I was mostly not paying attention due to the fact that I don't really need cleats for anything, I did catch a glimpse of a face I thought looked familiar. Unfortunately, I wasn't quick enough to catch it the first time around, but the good news for me is the only thing these terrible, locally-produced commercials have in common with the big-budget national ads is that they too run all... the... time. I probably had to wait just one or two commercials break before the ad popped back up on my TV.

Now I was studying the screen as if I would be tested on it later. Turns out I wasn't just seeing things. There, trying his best to act as though he was really selling a baseball bat to some kid, was a guy I went to school with. I can only guess that he either works in this sporting goods store or at the local production company and they needed someone to act like an employee. Either way, good for him. And even though this guy hadn't entered my mind in years, but it was kind of fun to randomly see what he is now up to.

It then occurred to me that this an entire generation of kids have no idea what this feeling of randomness is like. Because of Facebook they just know what is going on in everyone's lives, even the people they don't particularly like. Every conversation with people on Facebook about this kind of stuff goes like this:

Me: Oh, you're never going to guess who I saw today.
Person who is on Facebook: Really? Who?
Me: Rich. And you're never going to guess what he's up to!
PWIOF: Married, two kids, working at a tech office in Franklin.
Me: Um, yeah. How did you know that?
PWIOF: We're Facebook friends. He updates all the time.
Me: But you never even liked Rich.
PWIOF: Like that matters on Facebook.

Thinking about it a little further, it kind of bummed me out. You see, I like random things in life. I've always believed that if someone was meant to be part of your life, then the world would conspire to make them re-appear. I'm not going so far as to say it would be destiny or fate, because I don't really believe in those things, I just think it's one of the quirks of life. I always liked that sense of not knowing who could come around the corner any minute and then being able to catch up with them after years of lost communication. Now most people don't get to experience the feeling that comes with the randomness of life because they just Google a person, become Facebook Friends and know everything there is to know without having to speak to anyone. It comes so easy that it's not fun. That's too bad.

So, really, the moral of this post is simple: Screw Facebook.

BUT I WANT IT!

Because I didn't do much babysitting growing up, I was late to party when it came to dealing with children. However, the last 4+ years with my nieces and nephew have taught me a lot in a short amount of time. I'm now a champion pillow for naps and, even though I still would rather someone else do it, I can finally change a shit-filled diaper without dry-heaving. But, here's the key thing I now know that I didn't back in January of 2007: if you ever tell your child to do something, they say no and you respond by getting down to their level to defend your position with logic and a sound defense, you're a fucking idiot.

Look, you simply can't reason with children on certain issues. No child under the age of 8 has ever said the following sentence: "Well, I don't agree with what you are telling me, but I can see where you're coming from and respect your position." No, they know what they want and nothing you can say or do is going to sway them. They are stubborn in that way, like the know-it-all at work, only much cuter. What disturbed me was I recently realised that even though I am in my 31st year on this planet, I haven't totally out-grown this myself. There are just some things I refuse to accept, no matter how rational or logical the other person's argument may be. I want what I want and nothing you say will change that fact.

Not surprisingly, this revelation into my personality was brought on by sports. A couple months back, Comcast bought out NBC. This created a new company, which included a joint union of NBC Sports and The Golf Channel, which was already a part of Comcast. I figured it was all good because now I would get to see even more golf. So, imagine my surprise last weekend when the early Saturday and Sunday PGA Tour action, normally found on The Golf Channel, was nowhere to be found.

It used to be that no matter who was showing the weekend golf (CBS or NBC) the early third and fourth round play would be on The Golf Channel. Now, because they own NBC, it appears The Golf Channel would rather not show you the early action from a tournament if it's going to be on another channel, as they don't want you getting into the action and not watching whatever they are showing on NBC. Just for an example, last week they were showing the Senior PGA Championship on NBC and as such didn't have any coverage of the PGA tournament that was going to shown on CBS. As you can imagine, this did not make me happy.

Now, as a communications major in college who took numerous classes in programming, I totally get this from a business standpoint. It doesn't makes sense to promote something for your competition. Honestly, I understand the reasoning. Doesn't mean I don't hate it. I don't want to have to think about their promotions, I don't care about Comcast's viewing numbers or their politics behind the scenes. I just want to watch more of the stuff I like and nothing anyone says to explain their position is going to change my mind. I want what I want. The only difference between me and my nieces is that when I throw my temper-tantrum you can look up if you want to be on my level.

The Worst Time To Fail

As anyone who lives in the Northeast knows, there is a list of items where it is better to know someone who owns one and is willing to let you occasionally use it instead of buying it yourself. Let someone else go through the hassle of ownership while you get the payoff once or twice a year. Most of the items on this list are weather-related, because a harsh winter and soggy spring make them not worth the money. As of right now, the list looks a little something like this: motorcycle, pool, boat/jet ski, beach house (dammit!) and convertible. (Feel free to shout out any more that you can think of.) Essentially, they only come in handy 10-15 days of the year and the rest of the time they sit in storage, collecting dust. And, while not as expensive, when you live in cold weather states there is also the issue of warm-weather specific clothing, which is what I want to talk about now.

I've never been able to fully grasp the people who actually take the time to pack seasonal clothes away. I guess because I don't diversify my wardrobe that much I am not worried about creating enough storage space. From the waist up I'm wearing the same 20 shirts if it's January of August, so it's not like I have to worry about finding space for my sweatshirts in my closet. In fact, the only place this does cause an issue is my sock drawer.

I wrote about this a couple years ago, but I think I go through socks faster than the average person. Part of this is because if I ever buy the high socks I can't stand it when they slide down to my ankles and feeling like I've got very short leg-warmers on. As such I'm always pulling them as high as they go. This either leads to the seam at the toes breaking or the elastic at the top giving out from trying to stretch around my massive calves. The simple solution was to just buy the mid-ankle socks and not worry about all the extra fabric. That worked for a while when I was a high-tops-only guy, but about three years ago I switched to wearing low-top running sneakers and haven't looked back. This caused my first-ever encounter with clothes that can only be worn during a specific weather pattern - ankle socks.

For those of you who might not own a pair, these are the socks that barely reach your ankles and make it look like you aren't even wearing socks when you've got sneakers on. They're great for the summer months and leave no tan-lines (which is apparently an issue to some), but they are utterly useless in the winter. I bought my first pair two summer ago and everything was fine until the first time I put them on under my boots. It took me about four seconds to realise these weren't going to work around snow. So, they sat at the back of my sock drawer, taking up room, never being used and I came to resent them. This winter got a little better when I started using them under my thicker socks every time I went to shovel. Still, they were clearly not pulling their weight. Therefore, when I noticed the heels one one pair starting to fray, I was actually pleased to have a reason to get rid of them.

But, wouldn't you know it, they held out longer than expected and didn't finally give out until the other day, right when it's back to the warm weather. Ain't it always the way? You vow that as soon you get the chance you are going to get rid of something that only comes in handy once or twice a year, but then it breaks right before the time of the year you would actually use it. This will of course lead me to contemplate buying another pair before the summer ends, starting the cycle all over again. I guess I should just be happy it was only my socks and not the air conditioning in my truck. If that happens, expect a lot more expletive-filled post.