Sweet Sweep!

A few years ago someone I trust gave me some very good advice: “Never write about a team that you’re backing because it just invites their savage loss.” I’ve ignored that advice before and have ended up trying to rationalize some surprise flogging to a team that showed every promise of victory. The majority of those whippings have been handed to the San Antonio Spurs, after I’ve gotten too caught up in the moment and proclaimed their supremacy too soon. This has happened way too often during the NBA Finals.
Now the Fat Lady has sung in San Antonio and the Spurs have won their 4th NBA title since that ugly abbreviated 1999 season, and I feel safe enough to write about them, without the chance of calling down their doom. Of course, there’s not much left to be said, now. Now, it’s all over and the Spurs have gone far beyond the “asterisk” season.

Back when their play-off run began I was celebrating Fiesta Week (Post on that to follow). They started off low, with an April 23rd loss to the Denver Nuggets, and since I know people there and had bet on the Spurs with confidence, I was disheartened with their start. But Denver was unable to come up with another win against the Spurs, and even Carmelo Anthony, looked like he was moving in slow motion against Tony Parker and Tim Duncan. The Spurs went on to win not only their next four (4) games against Denver but their first game on May 6th against the Phoenix Suns.
That was when I started to feel that creeping doom hovering around them. I started watching the games with a sense of dark foreboding. I’d talk to people here in San Antonio who were giddy but not willing to commit to the idea that the Spurs could pull it off again. “They can do it,” they’d say. “But I’m not going to start getting crazy about it until they get into the Finals.” Quite so.
Truth is, Spurs fans have had their hearts broken too many times in too few years at that stage of the game. From Fishers impossible shot in 2004 (that not only cost us the game but the Will to go on), to the gut-wrenching game 7 loss in 2006, that went to the Dallas Mavericks in overtime because of a terribly timed foul that Manu Ginobili handed Dirk Nowitski.
That was a cruel defeat to Dallas. The Spurs were working on a repeat title win, had a franchise record of 63 wins, were #1 in the West, and had played some of the best basketball ever seen. But Victory is a fickle mistress, you know? And the Spurs and the fans found out the hard way that, sometimes you eat the bear and other times the bear eats you.
This year Dallas held such a mighty record that the rest of the League was vying for second place for the most of the last third of the regular season. So, when the Spurs failed to rank second, and had to settle for third behind the Suns, well, no one got too excited about it. If we made it past Denver and the Suns, we would surely have to face Dallas in the Western Conference Finals. Nobody, not even I, wanted to imagine that savage match-up when this whole this started back during Fiesta Week or at any other time, for that matter. This year, though, it was the Dallas Mavericks turn to be eaten by the bear and it wasn’t the Spurs that did it.
In one of the weirdest matchups of the decade, the Golden State Warriors faced off against Dallas, and when it all started, everyone outside the Bay Area just kind of ignored it. But I still know some people in the Bay Area and I had to cheer for Oakland just because I lived there. Also, I had to rail against Mark Cuban and Avery Johnson, I took note of their first win over Dallas and recognized how, with the more of that fast and ready game, the Warriors stood a good chance against them. Also, it was impossible to ignore how the low ranked Warriors were being led by Coach Don Nelson, who was the former Dallas Head Coach. People here still sometimes call the Mavs “The Team that Nellie Built”, and we kind of feel that Cuban hired on former Spur Avery Johnson as Nellie’s assistant coach (promoted to head coach) with the sole purpose of taking out the Spurs. I am sure that he chafes at the thought of walking in Don Nelson’s shadow.
I had to get a taste of that action because, in my own warped mind, I was looking at it like Obi Wan Kenobi facing off with a Pre-Vader Anakin on Mustafar. Also, after watching the way that Baron Davis and Stephen Jackson handled Dallas, I got one of those feelings about that series, a weird, tingly itch that someone who likes sports needs to learn to heed.
The Warriors ended Dallas’s dream of a NBA Title in six (6) games, and the look on Mark Cubans face was priceless. To hell with him, we wanted to start an I-35 rivalry with the Spurs, and the team did their best to work up to that, but payback is a real bitch and when you got it coming to you, not even the best record and a flawless performance can stop the hammer when it falls.
Golden State advanced to take on the Utah Jazz and lost it 4-1, and the Spurs went up against the Phoenix Suns.
The Jazz were strong all season, and took out the Houston Rockets, 4-3 in the series. Utah was relieved to have a break from another Texas team and went out to take Golden State in five (5) games.
For San Antonio, the Suns were the hardest team to overcome in the post-season. Coach Mike D’Antoni is a very sharp and shrewd opponent and Steve Nash is the Tim Duncan West of the Pecos. But the Suns are not a one horse team, hell no! Amare Stoudemire, Leandro Barbosa, Shawn Marion, Boris Diaw, and Raja Bell, those guys were a beauty to watch on the court against the Spurs. The series was bloody and intense, with an injury, a nasty flagrant foul and one bad blowout. In the end the Spurs took it 4-2 in Phoenix.
The Jazz came on strong but the Spurs were coming off back to back wins to close out Phoenix and blew past Utah for two games before they were able to match up. The Jazz were able to sock one 83-109 loss to the Spurs but the series closed out 4-1, sending San Antonio to their 4th NBA Final since 1999.
That was when people here started to get a little crazy. With our position secured it was finally time to relax and push the team to the Final Victory of the season, the Big Win. The East was ready and when the dust settled it was the Cleveland Cavaliers left standing. In the slow and jabber filled days before the first game the buzz was all about their LeBron James, “King James”.
For years yammering loudmouths have been trying to compare this kid with Michael Jordon. I could understand it back in 03, or even 05, but this was the Big Time and was neither the time nor the place for that kind of insipid and sloppy talk. We suffered all the talk about how the Spurs are “boring” (applied to Tim Duncan and our whole Fundamentals style game), or that we play “dirty” (A term applied derisively to both Bruce Bowen and Robert Horry).
The truth is that, game-for-game, the San Antonio Spurs have become one of the best teams in the NBA. Coach Gregg Popovitch has applied the strict and pure style of basketball he honed at the Air Force Academy, and added to it the sense of Family and camaraderie that makes champions shine. No one can deny that the Spurs’ have the numbers and the record of Champs but what the Spurs do not have is a moral miscreant player under investigation for a felony, which, I believe, must be a requisite to be a “superstar” team, in far off places like L.A. and Detroit, and maybe Cleveland.
I think it exposes a weird sort of prejudicial bias in America against San Antonio. People don’t have that reaction to the Mavs or the Rockets but, as we have proven time and again, the Spurs are simply a better team. We are so good, in fact, that we have never lost a Finals series…The Spurs have won the championship every time they’ve been in it.
The past few days have been a flurry of action and excitement. I needed to find a way to cash in on, what everyone knew, was a losing battle for the Cavs. After the Spurs took back to back wins in San Antonio no one was taking the LeBeron talk seriously anymore. It wasn’t just that he didn’t score well, he didn’t score at all until the 3rd quarter of one game. He missed rebounds, boggled passes, and embarrassed himself on the court in front of the world time and time again. It was bad enough that we had to watch LeBron stink up the court but were were forced to watch LeBron in the station breaks and in Nike commercials, in Sprite commercial, and in promos. When compared with his actual performance during the game it all seemed like some sad, sick joke, and helped expose the kid for the overgrown and overrated man-child product of a media driven sensationalist cash culture that can glorify the “American Idol Winner” of the NBA, and deride a solid player like Duncan, who is so focused and dedicated, that he was jokingly referred to as “Spock” by the Duke student section when he was at Wake Forrest.
When the Spurs won game 3 on Tuesday my mother took out her broom. The entire city was at last confident and content that our Spurs were not only going to beat the Cavaliers at Quicken Loans Arena, but that we were going to humiliate them on world wide television, win it in a sweep, and then bring the trophy home for one huge party. I bet against the Spurs in game 3. It was a fit of manic idiocy that had to be done. I was winning too many of my bets and people stopped wanting to play with me, so I had to take one in the side, and lose on what was one of the lousiest games of basketball I’ve seen in ages. The Spurs played sloppily, failing to convert on turnovers, missed easy layups, and futzed around the court way too much. The Cavs buckled under the pressure of a powerful Spurs defense, and LeBron, while active and out there, was held back by Bowen, Horry, Duncan, and anyone else who could get into position, if needed. The Spurs didn’t win it because they were better, they won it because the Cavs were worse.
Last nights game 4 was beautiful because we won. We swept and we won and, in the end, that is all that matters. The Cavs looked strong for most of the game but after the half the Spurs mustered a weak rally, relied on basics, took advantage of gaping holes in the Defense, and just outplayed Cleveland. The thought that they would lose this game never entered my mind, not even when it looked like it could go into overtime, or when it came down to free throws, fouls, and possessions. Tony Parker continued to outshine LeBron, his post-season experience helping him overcome the faltering Cavaliers defense. (Parker picked up the Finals MVP trophy, and he earned every inch of it.) Manu and Fabricio Oberto worked their magic from the inside and the out, helping the spurs over come a ping-ponging deficit. Francisco Elson and Michael Finley turned up the heat in and out of the paint, and Brent Barry and Jacques Vaughan kept the Cavs guessing and running in circle. As the clocked ticked down, it was painfully clear to the Cleveland bench, fans, and the world that this was not to be their year.
There was no confetti for the Spurs in Cleveland. There were random boos and jeers from the crowd as David Stern presented the Spurs organization with their trophies. However, there was joy there and in the locker room, and there was celebration on the streets of San Antonio. The players celebrated with each other, and with family, friends and loved ones. In bars, homes, and out on the streets of downtown, there was merriment, sound, and passion.
The Spurs arrive back in town around 2 pm. The city is running shuttles to the Airport to greet them for a party. On Sunday there is going to be a parade on the river to show off the trophies, then, in the evening, a celebration at the Alamodome.

I’ve been up all night after the celebrations and revelry. Today I will collect on my bets watch their arrival on TV, and tonight, party with the rest of the city. The Spurs have won 4 titles in 9 years, and I’m sure that people will want to start using the word “dynasty”. Probably the same morons that talk about how boringly good the Spurs are, or how great Parker has become, or how LeBron will be better someday. You won’t really hear people here talking too much about records, or streaks, dynasties. Not yet at least. I, for one, am not taking any chances. Why Doom them now? I and the city will probably just enjoy this Sweet Sweep Victory, and another title, until sometime late next season…Then come see me about the odds on a Repeat.

Call me when the Star Rush in on…

Wally Schirra Dies at age 84

 

What can I say? I wasn't there but, I appreciate the sacrifice and duty he performed for the United States of America as well as NASA. This astronaut did the kind of things movies are made of… he was featured as one of the astronauts in The Right Stuff. Wally was more than a character though even when he was playing practical jokes. Wally is The Right Stuff when it comes to thinking about what citizens of the United States of America are all about. We go all out and prove that we can be the best in the world at something if we just put our heart and minds into whatever it is our hearts pursue.

Being an astronaut has to be more than landlubbing Earthlings could ever imagine. Seeing outer space with your own two eyes and realizing in one moment how big the universe really is just has to almost be overwhelming. My thanks to all of the astronauts from any country for making the sacrifice of reaching for the stars. I know it is an attempt to get humankind off of this mud ball at some point in time. Call me when the "Star Rush" is on. I will clean garbage cans on another planet just to see a different sunrise and sunset than the one on Earth.

 

Till later my spacey friends…

Email from a friend

Subject: GAY FLIGHT ATTENDANT

My flight was being served by an obviously gay flight attendant, who seemed to put everyone in a good mood as he served us food and drinks. As the plane prepared to descend, he came swishing down the aisle and told us that Captain Marvey has asked me to announce that he'll be landing the big scary plane shortly, so lovely people, if you could just put your trays up, that would be super. On his trip back up the aisle, he noticed this well-dressed and rather Arabic looking woman hadn't moved a muscle. Perhaps you didn't hear me over those big brute engines but I asked you to raise your trazy-poo, so the main man can pitty-pat us on the ground. She calmly turned her head and said, "In my country, I am called a Princess and I take orders from no one", to which (I swear) the flight attendant replied, without missing a beat, "Well, sweet- cheeks, in my country I'm called a Queen, so I outrank you. Tray-up, Bitch."
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The Fiesta post will take a few days to organize...Been a helluva ride. More later.

Ain’t Gonna Rest-a Until After Fiesta

At 9:00 am today, the 116th Fiesta San Antonio officially began. For those who don’t know what I’m talking about Fiesta Week lasts 10 days, draws a crowd of 3.5 million, and has an estimated economic impact of nearly $260 million. (Info from the Fiesta San Antonio website.) It is a city-wide festival in remembrance of the Battles, victories, and sacrifices of the Texas Revolution. It brings together the best of Texas Cultures, and celebrates the unique and magnificent heritage that is San Antonio.
Anyone who has seen any of my Fiesta posts from the past couple of years knows that Fiesta time is my favorite time of year. It‘s like Christmas, New Years, The Fourth of July, Spring Break, and Mardi Gras all rolled into one. It is one serious party and, as such, requires serious preparation.
For the last few days I have been getting ready. This is not one night of debauchery or a few days of decadence. Fiesta is 10 days of progressive partying. It is not for the faint of heart or weak of stomach. Here then, for your edification and amusement, is my Fiesta checklist:
A) Comfortable Shoes: I do a lot of walking during Fiesta because, even if I choose only one event for the day, it’s probably going to be spread out over a very large area. While the dilettante may wear a pair of new cowboy boots or some fashionable shoes, the Fiesta Pro knows that the party neither starts nor stops in one place. Comfort is rule one.
B) Hat: The Fiesta Hat is more than just to keep the Texas sun out of your face, it shows that you are aware of the past that Fiesta commemorates and that you appreciate the legacy that Fiesta has become. Men and ladies wore hats until the early 1960’s. It wasn’t just fashionable; your hat was part of your status. Consider your Fiesta Hat a similar symbol. It’s going to reflect your experience, your affability, and your levity. Mine is a slouchy Mexican Sahuayo palm straw hat, not too fancy, and distinctive enough.
C) Beads: Fiesta beads are very much like Mardi Gras beads. They come in every kind imaginable. Perhaps Fiesta beads use different iconography, (the Chili Pepper, armadillos. the Texas Flag, Beer…) but in essence they serve the same purpose: to show ones likes, turn-ons, interests, and attitudes. This can play an important part in meeting people during Fiesta because it gives you something visual to go on while drunk. The experienced Fiesta vet knows that a few small, shiny, boring, Mardi Gras throw beads in your collection can add a little flair, and they also allow you to give a few away. Also, it is important to remember that one should only wear what one can carry. The beads I wear I have had to hunt down. I wear one with Texas Flags, one with Confederate Jacks, a Jolly Roger one, and a functional plastic shot glass on a string with a removable flashing lime wedge inside it. Flashing body parts and other such outrageous behavior to earn beads is neither necessary nor encouraged. Just ask a drunk for some of their beads, or better yet, start a collection of your own, there are vendors all over the streets, and buy the ones that strike you.
D) Medals: I know there must be an interesting story as to why some people wear medals during Fiesta. I know that, much like other Spring Time Carnivals, we elect a collection of mock royalty and parade them through the streets (and along the river) to the amusement and delight of the drunken masses. I know that this is different that other Spring Time festivals in other places because this one is also the celebration the (no other word for it) Fiesta that was had by all when Texas won our unlikely Independence from the tyrannical rule of the magnificent Mexican Generalissimo Antonio de Padua María Severino López de Santa Anna y Pérez de Lebrón (Santa Ana). These days, the medals take on a much less martial meaning. Companies, corporations, and the City hand them out to employees and customers. Pretty much anyone can make a Fiesta Medal. It’s not so much what’s on the medal as how many you have, and how you wear them. In other words, go ahead and award one to yourself, it’s Fiesta!
E) Collapsible/Disposable ice chest: Above all, the one thing that makes a good Fiesta is drinking. During Fiesta drinking, being moderately drunk, carrying beer. It meana that, if you are so inclined, you can wear a 70 oz. Camelback hydration system on their backs full of Daiquiri, if you so choose. (True story.) It means you can sit on the bed of a Dodge pick up, right downtown, and have a drunken conversation with an on duty San Antonio police officer. It’s always good to carry your own beer because you can offer one to the officer and, chances are, he'll take it for after shift. Most places downtown allow you to take your own ice chest, a very few do not. Most places forbid glass containers, some prefer you do not drink out of a beer container, (can or plastic bottle). In some cases, though, plastic cups are available. (I once recieved a plastic glass from another on dudty SAPD officer, in front of the San Fernando Cathedral, because I had a can of cold beer in a Koozie...Again, true story.) There is no special Fiesta time drink. Beer is what most people drink, carry, share, spill, throw, drop, buy, and sell, during Fiesta, and most people like to take a few cans, at least, of their own cold beer with them. Oh, sure there is such a thing as a Fiesta Margarita but those are usually watered down, frozen concoctions, that are more sugar water than tequila, and are served in novelty glasses and they are roundly regarded as a rookie mistake. No, the Fiesta vet knows that beer is always the way to go. No, the Fiesta vet knows that beer is always the way to go. Some carry large pull behind icechest, usually parade going families who are lugging soft drinks, a picnic lunch, and of course beer. Others carry one-time use styrofoam things they pick up when they bought the case of beer and the bag of ice. I like to tote my beer around in a little collapsible Igloo container. It holds exactly what I need, has room for a snack, and when it’s empty, you just throw out the watery ice, and it'll fit into a backpack or, if you roll it up, into a large pocket or in a strap.
F) Toilet paper/hand sanitizer: As every drinker knows, we don’t so much buy our buzz as rent it. Try as one might to delay it, one must, sooner or later, answer natures call. The City of San Antonio provides an abundance of Port-O-Johns for this very reason. They very word, Port-O-John, though, is enough to strike terror into the heart of the Amateur Fiesta go-er. But take heart. The ladies police their own stalls for a modicum of cleanliness, and the men, well, we make do when we must and allow for bad aim as we don’t ever sit down in one. In every case, no matter the condition of the outhouse or the pressure on the bladder, these two items will always come in handy.
Now, I shall go kick off my Fiesta Week. I’m heading to a downtown Cantina to drink some beer and listen to some music. I will keep notes and take pictures this week, and try to check in when I can. It is important to remember that such things as work, school, or relationships might try to get in the way of a True Fiesta Experience. I try not to let them. One can always find another job, there’s always next semester, and if you’re significant other doesn’t Fiesta with you then they are against Fiesta altogether. Que Viva Fiesta!

The Start of a Potentially Savage Spring

Irate Iran Rudely Retaliates – Kidnaps 15
When I first heard about the ambush and capture of the 15 Royal Navy crewmembers by Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) in the Ras al-Beesha area of the contested Shatt al-Arab/ Arvandrud, I wasn’t too surprised. Iran did this before on June 21, 2004. Those guys were released in a matter of days, after being paraded around on television, and threatened with prosecution. Then, there’s the whole timing of the incident…The day before the United Nations Security Council was going to vote on increasing sanctions against Iran for noncompliance with UNSC Resolution 1737. It’s curious, certainly, but not entirely suspicious. However, the IRGC has had a burr in their bridle for some time over the arrests of five Iranian (alleged) Consulate members in Iraq and the capture of members of the IRGC’s elite al-Quds Force in Iran.

The Sunday Times last week quoted Reza Falker, a writer for the Revolutionary Guards’ weekly newspaper, as saying: “We’ve got the ability to capture a nice bunch of blue-eyed blond-haired officers and feed them to our fighting cocks.”

There has also been speculation that, since the IRGC take orders from the Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, it was he that he gave the order to have the unfortunate crews taken into custody. Add to this mix that the Commander of the IRGC, Yahya Rahim Safavi has been financially hit by the restrictions put in place by UNSC Resolutions, the most recent one, Resolution 1746 , just passed on Saturday, and will probably further hurt his pocket. Well, then, that, my Freaky Darlings, does starts to sound suspicious. It starts to sound downright premeditated.
Now, there’s bound to be a ton of diplomatic wrangling, in the next few days. The Iranians say the sailors were in territorial waters, the UK says they were operating in Iraqi waters. It’s being spun by the Iranians as being a deliberate act of aggression; the UK is calling it a misunderstanding. Rumors of espionage, confessions, indictments, trials, and the death penalty have been swirling around all night on the various news sources, but most of the correspondents reporting from Iran are saying that trials and consequences have not been discussed by the people in power, and that they are, for now at least, only rumors.

UN Nixes Nukes, Iran Continues Contumacious Course
The United Nations Security Council voted unanimously on Saturday to impose stronger sanctions against Iran. This time the 15-0 vote passed Resolution 1746 (see above). In the past, Russia and China have seemed unwilling to pressure Iran into abandoning the path to a nuclear future. I always felt their reluctance had to do with a 2004 Chinese “Mega-Gas Deal” and a 2005 Russian Nuke deal, with Iran. However, last month Chinese Foreign Minister Li Zhaoxing openly urged Iran to resume negotiations and better their relations with the IAEA (International Atomic Energy Agency), and then, just last week, Russian Foreign Minister Sergei Lavrov encouraged Iran to halt Uranium enrichment.
I think it makes a statement of international unity. It tells me that I’m not the only one paranoid enough to believe that Iran just might really be out to get us, or worse, us and others. And, don’t let them fool you. Russia and China don’t want to diffuse the situation. It would be more profitable if that War everyone keeps talking about kicks into High-Gear. Who do you think is equipping Iran and contributing to their military growth?
In any case Iran has pledged to continue their nuclear ambitions. Tehran has openly rebuffed the UN and has given every indication of ignoring pleas from the global community. The capture of those 15 Brits suddenly looks like a brilliant Iranian diversion; instead of having to face a depressing UN resolution, the Iranian people are being told that the British have encroached on their territory, were perhaps spying, were captured by their gallant guard, and were made to confess. I doubt they’ll try and trade them for some of their captured IRGC officers. That would be a mistake, would paint them in the same dark light as those hostage taking terrorists we see in Iraq. (And they’re not meddling, in Iraq, are they?) I think it’s more likely that they will make the world sweat it out for a few days, like last time. They will push the Brits, give them the run-around, and then release the 15 captives in a grand and magnanimous show of diplomacy, saying that they meant to release them all along.

Prince Harry Whoops It Up-Tipples, Topples
Prince Harry, who is shipping out to fight in Iraq at the end of May with his regiment, the Blues and Royal, had a wild night at his favorite London nightspot, Boujis. He downed drinks with the honeys, enjoying what appears to be the savage end of a 48 hour bender. The issue comes in as he was leaving, he allegedly attacked a photographer, and, once he was under control, he had an embarrassing photograph taken of him as he stumbled “spectacularly into the gutter” as one story put it.
I really don’t see what the issue is all about, here. I mean imagine, he’s a member of the Royal Family, is shipping out to do his duty in Iraq, has just graduated and is on his way over. A couple of days ago he turns on the television and sees that 15 of his people were snatched away, without a shot fired. I mean I’d be thinking “Great Googa-Mooga, that could be ME!”
Can anyone really blame him for going on this kind of binge? He’s a 22 year old, green, soon to see combat, officer, celebrating for what may very well be for the last time. Hell, I’m surprised all he did was chase around a paparazzo. With the way those vultures treated his mother, and the training he’s received, he could very well have killed the man. So what does it matter if he got drunk and fell down (Pushed, he was pushed!) it’s fine with me. At least I’ll know, the next time that gravity conspires to use my inebriation to bring me low, that I am, at least in that respect, in very good company.
UPDATE
A more recent story from Reuters seems to contradict an earlier report from other news agencies.

“An Iraqi fisherman who said he saw Iranian forces detain them, said on Saturday
the ship British forces were searching was anchored in Iraqi waters.”

So, now the eye-witnesses have changed their tune. The plot thickens. No one seems particularly distraught over these missing crewmembers. Perhaps I’ve grown jaded after so many prime time news shows, or remember the first batch of hostages taken when our forces first got to Iraq. Or maybe the Brits are just way more respectful and reserved about these things. I mean, if they’d been American sailors/marines I’d expect to get interviews with the families and loved ones of the missing on the evening news, and on CNN. Televised Images of courageous parents, stoically saying how their child will do their duty, perhaps one anti-war wife who’d launch into an impassioned tirade in front of a bouquet of cameras, the single mother who breaks into tears, and implores Jesus, the Almighty and brings audiences to tears when she answers “Say your prayers, baby, don’t lose faith,” when the concerned female anchor asks “if you could give them a message, what would it be”.
One story suggested that:

“Iran would probably not have seized American soldiers, even on the pretext that
they had strayed into its territorial waters.”

I’ve got to agree with that. Sure, insurgents have kidnapped some fat, straggling contractor or the odd grunt in Iraq, but I think Iran was safer in choosing a UK target. Certainly not because they were an easier target, from what I understand they are fierce fighters and noble allies. No, it’s because here, in America-Land, we’d have intercepted that football and ran, ran, ran to the end zone. Give us a crisis like that and we’ll give you one hell of a celebrity charity spectacle. Media circus? More like a Media Fiesta! Press conferences on every channel, every hour on the hour, the stations can dig up old military guys as paid analysts and talk for hours about things that may or may not happen, the sound bytes and the film clips…Now, That’s entertainment!

Winter is almost gone… save me a snow doughnut though

Snow doughnuts...

Attack of the Snow Rollers

They look great. I wonder if they would make great snow cream.

Not my usual type of post, but I just couldn't resist. I hope all you freaks enjoy this last blast of winter. Bikini tops and shirtless overweight men like myself are coming to grace your presence soon.