Great OWS Editorial

Belted out of the park:

My Tevas Stink

I loved my new Tevas.  I really did.  They're comfortable, cool, and were the perfect bridge between sandals and shoes. 

Unfortunately they stink.  Literally. 

On the whole, I'm cleaner than the average bear, and have never really had this problem before.  So when my new Tevas started smelling like week old garbage, I thought maybe my body chemistry might be changing to cause something like this to happen.  It was offensive, and I literally had to scrub my feet to get rid of the smell, as well keep the offending shoes outside.  

Then I did a quick Google search on "Tevas" and "stink." 

Turns out it isn't me - not at all. 

These shoes have a massive issue, as dozens and dozens of posts can attest.  In fact, you may have landed on this page due to just such a Google search.  If you did, rest easy, friend.  Your Tevas do stink, but it is the shoe, and not you.  Send them back and get another brand and you (and those around you) will be quite happy. 

In the mean time, hey Teva: you guys really stink.  Really.

Occupy Madison WI Loses Permit

Here in our new home state, the dirtbags of Occupy Madison have lost their street use permit after a nearby hotel complained of inappropriate behavior, which included public masturbation.

I kid you not.

The DFL has entered into an unholy union with the Occupy movement, only to find that the movement is being quickly inundated by anarchists, druggies, criminals, and people that live on the fringe.  The website OWSexposed.com has a nice running documentation which backs this up, and shows a side of the movement that the old-school media refuses to show.

Democrats, so desperate for anything to change their fortunes and direct attention anywhere but on their anemic economy, got into bed with these pigs, hopeful the movement would grow to become their own Tea Party.  It has grown, alright.  With the underbelly of society.  And for the independent voter sitting on the fence in Florida, Ohio, North Carolina, or any other battleground state, this condoned behavior is going to push them off that fence.  Unfortunately for the DFL, it will be on the wrong side. 

On My Own

This week has been the toughest week for me since I started this job a little over a year ago.  I won't go into details, but I've put in longer hours than I ever have, trying to keep multiple balls in the air.  All along there have been new surprises with new disappointments, and with challenges aplenty.  I've done my best to plow through them, and to insulate my team from them, but goodness, I'm exhausted. 

And through it all, I'd just like to talk to somebody.  Someone to serve as a sounding board or a sympathetic ear.  A peer; someone who knows what it is like and has been there and done that.

Unfortunately, despite over a year of living here, my wife and I continue to remain guests as best, and strangers at worst, here in our new "home."  We have no relationships outside of those that I have at work.  My two closest "friends" at work are the SVP of HR and the CFO, and at the end of the day, they're the SVP of HR and the CFO.  Neither of them give a tinker's cuss about my bad week - they have their own set of responsibilities, all greater than mine. 

So we plow ahead, my wife and I, looking forward to yet another weekend of hanging out with each other, because we literally don't know anyone else. 

Pathetic.

Michael Moore Claims He's Not in the 1%

In a classic "four legs good, two legs better!" moment, the head swine of the Animal Farm that is the American left claims that he is most definitely NOT part of the 1%.

According to sources, the man has a net worth of $50MM.

An the mindless audience grins and claps and eagerly gulps down the obvious lie. 

Pathetic.

Vikings May Not Win, But...

we're not afraid to kick a man in the seeds after he knocks us to the ground. 

The string of embarrassing behavior performed by members of this team continues unabated.

Message from Obama's MIA Teleprompter

From the genius that is Iowahawk...

Southern Invasion Recap

My cousin and his buddy Doug joined us for the annual Southern Invasion duck hunt in central Minnesota.  Unfortunately, somebody forgot to tell the ducks.

All was not lost.  We were treated to some incredible southern cooking, a surprise rise of a "covey" of pheasants (of which some found their way into the gumbo), and some of the most beautiful mornings you'd care to see.

While the time afield was not good, the companionship, conversation, food, laughs and stories more than made up for it.

Plus it takes a lot of pressure off of our hosts when Fuzzy and I head down for the Northern Invasion in January.

We can't wait

Give Me Your Stuff, But Take Mine and It's Theft

From the New York Post comes a story about theives that are preying on protesters down at the Occupy Wall Street rally in New York.  In the article, one protester bemoans the theft of her "$5,500 Mac."

Which begs a couple of points:

• I have a damn good job.  Damn good.  I'm in the ecommerce industry.  And I don't have a $5,500 Mac because there's no way I could justify such a luxury.  And yet...
• If I did have such a laptop, there's no way I would take it to a protest rally as I'd expect it to be the target of a theft.  But maybe I'm just a realist pessimist about human nature.
• I don't understand the protester's angst on the loss of her Mac.  She's protesting for people's assets to be "shared" and "redistributed."  That's exactly what happened to her Mac.  Why should she own such a sophisticated technology when there are so many that have so little?  Likewise, she likely earned that Mac on the backs of others.  Time for her to pay her "fair share."

Karma can be a real bitch.

Ponder the Impossible

The Sunday night game against Chicago last week showed Donovan McNabb for what he is - an aging quarterback at the twilight of his career, who couldn't give a frog's fat behind about the outcome of the game.  His entire body language belied a man that just flat didn't care anymore.

For that reason alone, Leslie Frazier needs to make a move.  But the bigger reason to make a move now is due to the upcoming opponent.

The Super Bowl champion Green Bay Packers roll into town with a spotless 6-0 record and the wind at their backs.  They are clearly the most dominant team in the NFL right now.

Which makes the timing of Ponder's first start absolutely perfect.

If Green Bay comes in and destroys us, as all are projecting, it was an expected outcome.  The entire state are expecting the worst, so rolling the rookie out there just adds to the forgone conclusion that most hold for the game.  Hence, Ponder can't do any worse than what people already expect.

But what if the miracle occurs?  What if he can actually cobble together a game in which the Vikings win against their hated and heavily-favored rival? 

Then, my friends, Christian Ponder will go down in the annals of Vikings lore.

All up side, no down side.  The perfect place to start an NFL career.

Good luck, kid.  We'll be pulling for you.

Chinese Girl Run Over, Our Future?

This story is making the rounds, but in the event you have not seen it, you absolutely need to do so. 

I've presented the Fox version.  There are unedited versions out there.  They show, in graphic detail, this toddler being run over, having her body split open like a watermelon, spilling guts and blood into the street, arms flailing for help, and not one, not two, but 18 people walking right past her.  Some even walk/drive through her blood splatter puddle.

Look at this and learn.



So why do I show this?  I show it because this is the society that some want to move us toward.  One where no pesky religion clouds the minds of the ignorant.  One where little girls are aborted at a rate that is tantamount to a genocide, all because of the wrong chromosome, which makes them incredibly inconvenient.  A world where everything is equal, and fair.  A communist society. 

18 people, all seeing, but choosing to move along.  This is beyond sick.

And yet there is a crowd in New York that espouses the exact same things that created the society in which a little girl can be run over, twice, and stepped around, because she's too damned inconvenient.

Ghouls.

OWS Oakland

OK, so I know this is Oakland, and you're going to get the worst of the worst.  But check this out:



These are the new faces of the Democratic party. 

We are entering uncharted waters here, folks...

The Rosebuds Concert Reivew - Lawrence University, Appleton WI

The city of Appleton and Lawrence University got a rare treat with the Rosebuds making a stop last night on their tour.  While the crowd was small (roughly 50 folks), it was appreciative for some really good music, and while the band had to fight through some sound issues for a portion of the show, the net result was a very enjoyable set. 

Front man Ivan Howard was a real force on stage, and knocked out some haunting guitar and strong vocals.  Kelly Crisp, while her microphone was too low for much of the set, added haunting vocals of her own as well as keyboards.  Her playing on "Woods" in particular was really fun.  Daniel Hart, I believe, was on violin and vocals, and while the sound of his instrument never got quite where it needed to be, his playing and singing were both outstanding and added much to the overall mix.  Finally the rhythm section (I didn't catch names and apologize) applied a great foundation.  The drummer, in particular, is a real talent. 

Some highlights from the evening:

• "Life Like" came out great live, and was really fun to hear.  It would have been more fun to hear with a packed venue that knew the song and could sing along. 
• Ditto with "Cape Fear."  Great song, executed very well. 
• "Second Bird of Paradise," off of the new album, was also excellent.  Here Hart's violin carried the song. 
• The band finished with its most recognized and successful song, "Woods."  It was an awesome way to finish an awesome evening. 

I know the Rosebuds have been opening for Bon Iver this tour, and a stop at a small college, of a small town, to a small crowd had to be disappointing.  What is it with Appleton and failing to support good music?  It was a free concert, people!  But for some of us in the audience, we appreciate them making that stop very, very much.  Personally, I would have expected to go to First Avenue and would have gladly shelled out big dollars to do so in order to see them, so last night was a real treat. 

I can't wait to see where this band goes as their talent and sound will definitely require bigger venues and bigger crowds in the future.   

Do yourself a favor and buy their music, and see them live.  Great band.

A Dog Named Blitz Fixed

It has been brought to my attention this morning that my latest ADNB post seemed to be missing something, and in my cut/paste job, I did indeed miss an entire paragraph.  My apologies. 

I need to do a better job of proofing before hitting "publish..."

Vikings Threat to Move a Bluff; Dayton Folds

The StarTribune today reports that Governor Dayton is concerned that if a deal doesn't get done on a new Vikings stadium, that the team will move.  To quote Dayton from the piece: 

"If we don't act in some way ... it's unrealistic in my opinion to think that we are not going to face competition for the team,"

Hogwash.

Where is the team going to go?  LA?  Despite the fancy rendering of a new stadium shown above, here's a newsflash: California is broke.  Flat.  Ass.  Broke.  And we're not talking down on their luck, we're talking near bankrupt. 

While other states and cities are in better shape financially, nobody and I mean nobody is sitting around on a pile of dollars to throw at a NFL team to entice them into their market.  The new economy has effectively killed all of that off.  Those days are over, never to return again for a long, long time.  State and local pols need to focus, scrimp, and hustle just to keep basic services available to their constituents. 

A new billion dollar stadium complex for a football team in this economic environment?  That has about the same chance as the Vikings have of winning the Super Bowl.

Friday Morning Harmony

Here are Peter Wolf and Shelby Lynne, just hanging out and singing.

I think I would give just about anything to be able to make that kind of beautiful noise.

Enjoy

What the Occupy Wall Street Group Wants

People have been confused as to what it is, exactly, that the Occupy Wall St. movement really wants.  This clears it up:



The whole movement can be summed up by bastardizing the famous statement by President Kennedy:

Ask not what you can do for your country
Ask what your country can do for you

Weird Occupy Atlanta Group

Rational folks have been having a tough time understanding just what the hell these people want.  This video does not make it clear.



These are grown adults behaving like this.  If they were in charge, our unemployment rate would be 100%.

But we'd likely have access to some really righteous drugs...

A Dog Named Blitz - Chapter Six, "Two Years Old: Part 2"

For background on this serial, please click here. You can also start at the previous section

While goose hunting proved to be a new adventure, it was nothing compared to hunting the wily ruffed grouse of northern Minnesota.  The grouse is a mysterious bird, often found in quantity by deer hunters tying to be stealthy in the woods, but ultimately being exposed via an explosion of feathers seemingly coming from immediately underfoot.  However, when hunted directly, they can be non- existent, or merely ghosts in the woods. 

Personally, I had only hunted groused a couple of times.  Both times were early in the fall when the wooded cover was still extremely thick, and both times were done without any kind of canine support.  My partners and I simply spread ourselves out into the wooded cover, fighting through the brush, pushing forward as best we could, but snagging ourselves on the brambles more than making any kind of progress.  Occasionally one of us would hear the unmistakable whirl of flushing wings ahead, which was sometimes followed by the sound of a single report and an utterance of some lively bit of profanity. 

In these two occasions I had a shot at a grouse only once.  While I say I had a shout, I'm better off saying I discharged my gun in the general direction of a fleeing grouse one time.  Instead of hitting the grouse I instead centered the pattern of my shotgun directly into the sturdy trunk of a large oak tree that my departing quarry happened to put between myself and him on his path of departure. 

It is a frustrating and humbling pursuit.  So that Thanksgiving when my nephew claimed that grouse were crawling all over his dad's hunting property, I was reluctant to go out.  Did I really want to go out there with Blitz, both of us grouse virgins (me to shooting, and her to hunting them), for a day of utter frustration, or do I want to sit inside the warm house and wreak massive amounts of damage to my mother-in-law's thanksgiving leftovers?  The answer seemed pretty clear to me, but the whining coming from the dog crate indicated that someone needed to get out and get some fresh air.  Judging as well by the tightness of my belt caused by the November feast, I need the exercise myself.  I quickly changed, loaded up Blitz, and headed for my brother-in-law's land outside of town. 

Armed with a description of some promising areas from my nephew, Blitz and I waded into the quiet woods seeking the elusive grey bird.  We pushed along some likely cover with Blitz working the woods well.  Back and froth she dodged, not necessarily haunting per se, but clearly enjoying her freedom from the imposed confinement of the crate inside my mother-in-laws's house. 

Given that she had never encountered the bird before , I was hoping that upon a meeting, shed know what to do.  To this point we had done enough pheasant hunting and live bird training that it should not have been too far outside of her comfort zone, or at least that was my working hypothesis.  We moved along some semi thick cover, and Blitz soon picked up the scent of something.  Her body signals made it clear that she was on something - head down, nose working overtime, gait akin to Barry Sanders in traffic, and tail flailing wildly. 

She focused her efforts on a massive blowdown, moving to and fro, trying to get into the jumble of branches and sticks.  I prepared myself for the expected explosion of wings when the chipmunk inhabiting the pile chirped his annoyance at our presence.  That of course set the dog off, which in turn got the rodent more agitated and vocal, and soon our nice grouse hunt had degenerated into yet another chipmunk vs. dog stalemate.  I was ultimately able to get Blitz pulled away and focused on moving forward, and soon enough she started acting birdy again.  Again, this time, it turned out to be  another agitated chipmunk - this one sounding off from inside a hollowed log.  This type of scene would be repeated about four more times over the next hour, and I started to think my poor confused nephew didn't know the difference between a grouse and a chipmunk. 

Eventually Blitz started acting birdy again, and I was convinced this would be yet another false alarm and we soon would be hearing from an angry rodent.  Then Blitz did something she never did with the chipmunks: she locked up statue-still and pointed.  Immediately I knew this was different based this behavior as Blitz had never pointed before when there was not a bird somewhere out in front of her nose.  I was finally optimistic, but then she did something else she hadn't done before while hunting: she started growling.  Bird hunters are unfortunate souls, and as a group we immediately assume the worst of any situation, because often enough that is exactly what happens to us.  For me, the worst scenario in the situation with a growling dog was that we had stumbled across Mr. Skunk, and Blitz and I would ultimately be sleeping in my mother-in-law's garage.  No football.  No leftovers.  Just lots and lots of tomato juice baths and smelly companionship. 

"Blitz!"I yelled, "Here! HERE!"  Immediately the dog lunged forward, completely ignoring my commands, and rousted the grouse that was sitting invisibly about three feet in front of her.  I couldn't beleive it she'd done it.  Her and my first grouse!  Now all I had to do is make the shot.  "Don't choke, don't choke, don't choke," repeatedly went through my head, and I leveled my shotgun to get a lead on the departing bird.  Satisfied with my lead I lightly squeezed the trigger and send a load of Federal number six shot directly into the the body of an oak tree that the grouse had managed to put between him and me.  I didnt know grouse migrated but am convinced now as this had to be the same brid that had previously pulled the same trick on me a few years and a hundred miles ago.

I followed the route of the departing bird and felt I might have had a good lead where he came to rest.  I corralled Blitz back to the task at hand and we headed off to the last place where I had seen the bird.  As we moved in the grouse didn't wait for us to get close and nervously flushed while we were still out of range.  Unfortunately for the grouse he flew forward to the edge of the property and a clear cut border area. That meant he no had nowhere to go.  Blitz and I approached the area and I was certain that this time our luck would hold.  We knew the general area of the bird, and he was out of cover.  A flush meant open shooting and no oak trees to serve as wooded armor.  Finally, the odds stacked in our favor.

We got right up to the cover with Blitz bridy as all get out but found ourselves unable to raise the bird.  This proved to be a huge frustration as the cover was thin, and there was no way we could have missed him.  That's when I looked out into the open field and found one lone pine tree about ten feet away.  Blitz's nose had already pointed her in that direction, and we moved toward the tree in complete unison without the need for any commands.  

Nearing the base of the tree Blitz went back onto point and I tucked in behind her left hip.  "Get him, girl!" I commanded and immediately the grouse was in the air, and this time with nothing surrounding him but grey sky.  He was attempting to double back on us and was headed for the cover from which wed just come.  I shouldered my gun while pivoting 180 degrees, getting my lead, and squeezing.  The grouse, clearly hit, fell into a thick pile of cover with Blitz closely behind.  I commanded her to fetch with a thrill in my voice hopeful that this would be our first grouse.  After a couple of seconds Blitz reappeared from the cover carrying our first grouse in her mouth.  

At that moment I felt incredibly proud.  Neither of us really knew what we were doing.  We had an idea, sure , but this was a first.  And working together, we were successful.  It was a supremely satisfying experience.  I sat down with Blitz there in the clearing, admiring the bird in my hands, knowing how much wed achieved and how much my mother-in-law would enjoy this toothsome centerpiece to some future dinner.  

For that moment all we did was sit there and smile at our first ever grouse.  I probably would have sat there a lot longer had I known that our first grouse was also going to be our last.

Weekend With My Brother at Notre Dame

Ever had a weekend that you wanted to put in a bottle and take out at some future time?  Chalk my last weekend up as one of those.   

After attending The Trailer Park Boys show in Milwaukee on Friday night (you can read my review of the show here), I awoke early Saturday morning to pick up my brother from O'hare and spend the rest of the day at Notre Dame attending their game against Air Force.  We connected with relative ease and made the quick jaunt to South Bend without issue, talking and catching up the whole way.  We found a great parking spot off campus in the nearby neighborhood and headed over to the school to kill time until the game.   

The day was nearly 80 degrees, sunny, and completely cloudless.  For a college football fan, it is the day that exists in your wildest dreams.  It could not get any better.  We walked around to the usual sites, visiting Touchdown Jesus 

and taking in some of the pre-game at the Golden Dome. 

We then did stuff like walk around the lake, 

visited the refurbished Joyce Center, 

and got onto the practice field.   

Other things we did included the obligatory K of C $7 for a steak sandwich and a drink, visited the Grotto and said a quick prayer, poked our head in on the ND / UCONN soccer game, caught College Gameday at the Student Center, and waded through the gift shop at the Joyce Center.  In fact, I'm not sure we left a stone unturned - it was the ultimate college football experience.   

That got us to game time where we were treated to a fly-over by a B2 Stealth Bomber (for video of the Stealth Bomber fly-over see my next post).  We were then treated to a very strong game by the Irish, which finished with a couple of late TDs against the Irish second team, the singing of Notre Dame Our Mother, and then the respectful and reverential playing of the third verse of the Air Force song by the Air Force band, which was circled by the Air Force team who was in turn circled by the Irish players.  As teams finally left the loudest cheer at the tunnel was saved for the Air Force, who exited to a standing ovation and cheers of "USA!"  It was awesome to see.   

After the game we headed into South Bend to catch some dinner before the ride back to the hotel near O'hare.  On our way there, on a wrong turn, we encountered about a dozen of the "Occupy Wall Street" crowd that were standing on a corner in downtown South Bend.  My window and moon roof were open, and I was loudly vocalizing my distaste for those people and their cause.  Something must have popped with my brother, as while I was turning around our rig he was opened the door and let loose with an invective that completely surmised what we both felt.  Upon shutting the door, he turned to me and stated "That felt GOOD!"  Indeed it did.   

We ended up having dinner at the LaSalle Grill where we enjoyed a steak and an incredible bottle of Ladera cab.  For an Irish post-game celebration, there's no way it gets any better.   

We ate our fill, headed west, got checked in, and I was out five minutes into Sports Center.  I can't convey how nice it was.  But the best part wasn't the weather, the game, the incredible dinner, or any of that.  The best part, by a magnitude of a thousand, was being able to spend the day with my brother.  We talked all day - about everything and nothing, about trivial matters and the most important things in the world.  The game, dinner, campus and all of the other stuff was just icing on the luscious cake that was being able to hang out with my brother.  We don't get to do it much anymore, but for me, there's not much better.   

Thanks for an incredible day, K.  The only way it could have been better is if I would have caught that extra point.  Literally.   

I love you, bud.    

B2 Bomber Fly Over at Notre Dame / Air Force Game

In going to the game this weekend, I bugged my brother that we do whatever we needed to do to get into the stadium and in our seats well ahead of game time, as I am a sucker for the fly-over.  With the Irish facing Air Force we were assured of one, and I didn't want to miss it.  

But what would it be?  I was hoping against the "missing man formation," because that always chokes me up.  A lot.  How about something cool like a formation of Warthogs or maybe a giant B-52?  What I didn't expect is what I saw circling off in the distance - the unmistakable silhouette of the B2 Stealth Bomber.  Outstanding!


While videotaping the Star Spangled Banner is not as respectful as it likely needs to be, I could not help myself.  Here's what I captured - America's greatest airborne projection of power that she has ever created.

(sorry for the bad singing): 

Review of Trailer Park Boys Milwaukee Show

The Trailer Park Boys offered up a show in Brewtown, and neither my wife nor I knew what to expect.  We knew what their TV show was like, and we appreciated the unique characters that evolved.  For me it remains one of the top five funniest TV series, ever.  But how would it translate to a live show?  Ah, that was the question.

The answer was easy - it translated awesomely!

The show started a tad late as the Brewers went to extra innings, and by the time the hometown nine had taken care of business, the house was in an absolutely euphoric mood.  The Boys poured gas on that fire, mentioning the game and the team multiple times throughout the night.  The crowd repeatedly roared their appreciation, and the smallish Pabst Theater rocked the entire night.

The show itself was a fun, rollicking ride with established bits and skits, lots of audience participation, and lots of room for improvisation.  The crowd and the Boys fed off of each other, and the entertainment was hilarious.  While content was definitely "R" rated and very guy-oriented, nobody seemed too offended and most folks had a good time.

Anytime there's that much chemical use in the audience and they're asked to participate, things can really go wrong but there were only a couple of times in which theater staff needed to usher folks off the stage.  Overall the Boys were able to keep things in check themselves via a look or a well-placed insult. 

The show concluded with a sneak peek of the Boys new show; a big departure from their Trailer Park Boys genre.  It will be a lot of fun to see how all of it comes together, and it definitely looks interesting. 

Overall it was a great way for a city, and a comedy team, to celebrate, and celebrate they did. 

A Fond Goodbye to This Generation's Edison

I was flying into Dallas on a business trip two nights ago.  It was a totally ordinary flight from all perspectives.  As usual, I was not connected to the web and that was just fine with me.  It is my preference.  The period of being off the grid completely that a flight can provide often proves to be a welcomed refuge. 

I used my time to do a little personal writing and cranked out the latest chapter of A Dog Named Blitz on my iPad, while enjoying a fine mix of tunes provided by the iPod capabilities on the device. 

As we approached our destination at DFW, I powered down the iPad and stowed it into my bag.  The second we touched down, I reached to the iPhone hanging off my waist and powered up to see what messages I had missed in my 34,000 foot hibernation.  That's when the push notification functionality from Drudge Report passed along the fateful message:

STEVE JOBS DEAD. 

An audible "oh no!" slipped from my mouth as I read the news. 

I certainly knew he was very sick, but he had been so very sick for so very long that I guess I felt him hanging on was just to be expected.  I had no idea he was that close to the end. 

I then immediately thought about the relationship I had with this incredible man for the past 25 years. It all started with with the the Apple II+ that I had my junior and senior year in undergrad.  It literally coined the phrase "home computer" back in the day.  I then graduated to an early-version Mac when I went off to grad school where it cranked out many a paper and case review. 

I took a bit of a hiatus from Apple when I started my career, but I ended up winning an iPod at a trade show and found that instantly my waining relationship with music was rekindled into a raging inferno.  It literally changed my life so much that I went so far as to buy a small stake of stock in APPL and proceeded to watch it go though the roof.  I sold my whole stake at about $125 at a tidy 50% gain when we needed a down payment for our cabin, and how I wish I still had those shares today. 

As mobile devices infiltrated my work arena I moved to an iPhone to stay abreast of the technology and again my world was completely changed.  The power of the PC, and then some, right at your hip.  Incredible.  I've ended with the iPad from which I'm writing this very post, and while I know this is my latest technological stop, this is hardly where the Apple train ends. 

What a legacy this genius leaves!  I hope that his spirit continues to inspire the other good people at Apple and that they continue to effect my life in such a productive, positive, and amazing way. 

Thanks, Steve.  You were my generation's Edison, and we will miss you greatly.

LSU's New Recruit?

An interesting story.  Regardless of how you feel about the ruling, this young man's perspective is pretty adult, and pretty refreshing:



Plus, you gotta love his choice in jerseys.

Demias Jimerson, prepare youself for a visit from the Hatter sometime soon

Hank Williams Jr. Fired for Speaking His Mind

Hank was fired from ESPN for making political comments.  It is a shame.  Pre-game will not be the same without him.

And yet Keith Olbermann worked the NFL pregame for NBC for 3 years. When he was let go, "NBC officials told reporters that Olbermann's left-leaning political views had nothing to do with the move." Guess you get to keep your job longer depending on which side of the aisle your political bombast comes from.

Here's to you, Hank.  You'll be missed

Hearing for the First Time

I know this has been all over the internet, but it warms my heart to be able to witness something so personal, and something that I take for granted far, far more than I should. 

The Big Education Bubble is Starting to Burst

The StarTribune reports this week that applications for that area's four law schools have dropped of late.  

Well, duh.

Runaway and unchecked tuition, student debt that rivals some mortgages, and employment prospects that are slimmer than a three-point halftime Vikings lead are combining quickly to an unsustainable, caustic mix.  Post-graduate and even traditional four-year college education no longer affords economic security.  In fact, it is now nearly the opposite.

Just like the real estate market, education is way past due for a correction. 

Halloween Video

Thoughts?