My chief weapon is surprise…surprise and fear…my two weapons are fear and surprise…and ruthless efficiency. My three weapons are fear, surprise and ruthless efficiency….and coming out of the sun with a squirt bottle full of cold water. Make that my four weapons…oh, never mind. The point is Ben and the Diva weren’t expecting it, but they should have been!
At first I didn’t post on the Brett Favre saga becuase I didn’t want to be late the party. Now it appears that this is going to drag on for months yet, and by writing now I can still squeeze a few paragraphs into the first 10% of all the words that will end up being written.
Frankly, the story is barely newsworthy in terms of being shocking; you’d have to be FEMA not to have seen this one coming. Aside from the annual off-season “maybe I’ll retire, maybe I won’t” strokefest, this latest move is vintage Favre for anyone who’s followed #4’s on-the-field exploits.
“Triple-coverage? What triple-coverage? I’m Brett Favre – I can put the ball in a Junebug’s back pocket!” Whooosh. “Dang!” Similarly, while “miscalculation” might be hard for Brett to say, it isn’t a foreign concept to him. “Retirement papers? I didn’t file no retirement papers! I’m Brett Favre – they’ve got to take me back!”
The moves made by both the Packers and Favre have been just as predictable.
Farve: “I maybe, possibly, might want to come back, but you didn’t hear it from me.”
Packers GM Ted Thompson: “Naah, naah, naah, not listening! I’m on vacation! I’m rearranging my sock drawer! Brett who?”
Favre: “It’s all just rumors taken out of context, I don’t know how Chris Mortenson could have intercepted my text messages.”
Thompson: “Of course we’d welcome Brett back, as long as he’ll wear a helmet really made from cheese and confess that he was the one that killed Dan Devine’s dog. There might be a problem, though, because we’re all sold out of #4 jerseys and I told the staff not to order any more. He might have to wear #78, which also happens to be the number of times we’ve been down this road with Brett in the past.”
Favre: “Help! Help! I’m being repressed! Come see the nonsense inherent in the system! Want to see me cry again?”
The posturing by both sides is just as transparent. The Packers will act as if they’d gladly take Favre back as their back-up quarterback, knowing there’s no way in hell Brett will accept that, while Favre will say he’ll come back knowing that there’s no way in hell Thompson wants the nightmare of Favre in uniform on the bench while a young quarterback takes his lumps. The team could conceivably punish him by trading him to a non-contender, but that is nearly as empty a threat as bringing him back as a bench-warmer. What non-contending team would trade for Favre and his salary, especially knowing that Brett won’t want to be there. Even potentially contending teams will be hesitant to give up much, especially if it means Favre having to learn a new offense. You should also keep in mind how much Favre has whined about having enough talent on the team in recent years; even if the Packers can find a trade partner (which they have the technical capability to do), Favre will pout his way out of that situation as well, probably forcing another trade that will make the Packers’ moves blow up in their face. In the Packers’ favor is that trades take time and that’s something that Favre and most teams don’t have if he’s going to go somewhere new and be ready by the start of the season.
Ultimately the Packers and Favre know he has the leverage and can force his release just by continuing to be the pain-in-the-butt prima donna he already is. Thompson also knows that the Vikings would be a prime landing space for Favre given that the team is merely an established quarterback away from being a serious Super Bowl contender, and that Favre would relish the opportunity to play the Pack twice in the coming year. There’s not much Thompson can do to prevent it, except muddy the waters by proactively accusing the Vikings of tampering, especially since Vikings offensive coordinator Darrell Bevell was Favre’s former quarterback coach. I don’t know what hard evidence Thompson could have to support his claim unless he’s got the power to subpeona phone records. Perhaps it was this transcript from a tape that was mysteriously found in the pocket of Bill Belichek’s hoodie:
DB: Hey, Brett, it’s your ol’ buddy, Darrell.
BF: Who?
DB: Darrell Bevell, your old quarterbacks coach.
BF: I had a quarterbacks coach? Who knew? I think I knew a guy named Darrell who caddied for me for awhile.
DB: Ha-ha, always the kidder. I’m just calling you up like good buddies do, to talk about huntin’ and fishin’ and such.
BF: Do tell.
DB: Of course! I wouldn’t dream of having you tampered with, unless of course it was by Jared Allen; man, can that boy hunt! You know, we should get together. I think you’d like our West Coast off-, I mean, you ought to check out the west coast of Lake Minnetonka. Good fishing out there. Super, in fact.
BF: Hey, thanks, Darnell…
DB: It’s Darrell.
BF: Oh, yeah, Darrell. The thing is, I don’t know if I’m going to have any time. Michael Strahan has also retired, and him and me got a contract offer from FOX to go around the country re-enactin’ the time I fell down so Michael could set the single-season sack record.
DB: I remember you like bowling. We’ve got a good group of, um, bowlers over here. You know Kevin and Pat, and we got that kid we call, “All Day.” Next time we get together I’d be happy to give you a ring. Uh, hello?
BF: Sorry, Merrill, I accidentally dropped my phone. I had this itch I was trying to scratch.
Tune into ESPN tomorrow (and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that) for the latest developments.
We now have more evidence of what Tiger Lilly has been saying all along: cows are terrorists! Here’s a photo of a would-be bovine suicide bomber about to go on a mission:
Actually, going on an emission might be more accurate. The photo is from a story about a group of Argentinian scientists that are trying to measure the amount of methane emissions from cows and the impact that may have on global warming:
In a bid to understand the impact of the wind produced by cows on global warming, scientists collected gas from their stomachs in plastic tanks attached to their backs.
The Argentine researchers discovered methane from cows accounts for more than 30 per cent of the country’s total greenhouse emissions.
As one of the world’s biggest beef producers, Argentina has more than 55 million cows grazing in its famed Pampas grasslands.
Guillermo Berra, a researcher at the National Institute of Agricultural Technology, said every cow produces between 8000 to 1,000 litres of emissions every day.
Methane, which is also released from landfills, coal mines and leaking gas pipes, is 23 times more effective at trapping heat in the atmosphere than carbon dioxide.
Scientists are now carrying out trials of new diets designed to improve cows’s digestion and hopefully reduce global warming. Silvia Valtorta, of the National Council of Scientific and Technical Investigations, said that by feeding cows clover and alfalfa instead of grain “you can reduce methane emissions by 25 percent”.
So the cows are out to get us, using biological weapons no less. This plan has a fatal flaw, however.
When the weather gets warm, I like to grill.
Miserere got an early jump in launching this week’s Manival, but that just gives you more time to read this week’s selections. In addition to post from your favorite writer in the night, there is a great 3-part series from this week’s host on Child-Rearing in a Culture of Death/Discipline and Responsibility/Character Training. There are tips on how to add spice to a ho-hum marriage and an article on the “tipping” point in a marriage. You can also find out about going “man-camping”, which sounds like a step up from your “man cave”, but you should read both and find out for yourself. In fact, read them all!
Jroosh is shutting down Roosh5 as of today.
That’s too bad as this has been one of the best written and best thought-out blogs in the MOB since it started a year and a half ago. From politics to economics (actually these are becoming one and the same these days), to family trips, movie reviews and car porn, this has been an exceptional and digestible blog.
Fortunately it’s not a matter of running out of juice, but a conscious — and admirable — decision to apply that juice in a different direction.
Well said, and farewell, Jroosh. Here’s hoping to see you in various and sundry comment sections and at future MOB events!
Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Del.icio.us" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Del.icio.us" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to digg" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to digg" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to reddit" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to reddit" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Stumble Upon" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Stumble Upon" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Google Bookmarks" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Google Bookmarks" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Ask" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Ask" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to FaceBook" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to FaceBook" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Barrapunto" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Barrapunto" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to MySpace" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to MySpace" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Twitter" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Twitter" />Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Social Bookmarking Reloaded" alt="Add 'Roooosh! And he’s gone' to Social Bookmarking Reloaded" />Sometimes you’ll do something that, even as you are doing it, you just know isn’t a good idea. But you do it anyway.
Case in point: I came in the house unexpectedly today and my wife was in the downstairs bathroom, and there was this strong smell coming from in there. Now, right away, you’re saying, “Uh, don’t go there,” but what you need to know is that she was wearing rubber gloves at the time. You also need to know that there are only two things she does in the bathroom that involve rubber gloves.
One is cleaning the bathroom, which usually involves strong and odorifous chemicals but this wasn’t bathroom cleaning day.
The second thing is to, um, refresh her hair color.
I walked closer and said, “Mmmm, smells colorful.” She looked a little disappointed that perhaps a tiny bit of The Mystery had departed. She did suggest, however, that if I could only learn to apply this elixir of youth it would be a big help in refreshing the tresses on the back of her head.
I recalled the long and expensive training and certification process the Mall Diva went through in order to be licensed to do that very thing, and said, “I don’t think that’s legal.”
“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she said, “you can have Faith (the Diva) show you how.”
“Sure,” I said, “it’s no big deal for you, but what about for me?” as I remembered an old story by Arlo Guthrie. “I mean, I really don’t want to be sitting in jail and having some big guy say, ‘What are you in for?’ and me having to say …
‘Hairdressing.'”
Okay, that didn’t get me into too much trouble. Blogging about it on the other hand….
I was too busy vacationing last week to contribute an entry to this week’s Manival, and I’ve been so busy with other things this week that I’m a little slow in calling your attention to this week’s host, I Am Husband. If you’ll go over there you’ll see that the carnival is doing quite well without this clown (me). There are several fresh posts from some of my new favorite bloggers, plus nice work from some new contributors.
Of course my attention is going to be drawn to a post entitled “Why My House is a Diva-Dome” by Dad of Divas. He writes authoritatively, but his daughters are much younger than mine so he has little idea of what’s coming. I could tell him (or he could read about it here) but why spoil the fun? I’ll also second the recommendation from this week’s host that you read the “Real Men Dote” (@ Trey Morgan)and “What Dads Really Think About Porn” (@ Discovering Dad). There’s lots of other good stuff as well about Marriage & Family, The Character of a Man, House and Home and other Miscellaneous Manliness (including another funny trip to Dr. Awesome’s mail bag.) Dude, check ’em all out.
I think I was 13 years old and just starting to develop some musical tastes of my own. I was in a record store in a mall in Indianapolis, flipping through the “S” selections, probably looking for a Rod Stewart album, when I suddenly saw something that froze me in my tracks.
It was stunning to see my name on something other than my football helmet or a gym bag, let alone an album cover. Wow! Somebody with my name had recorded an album! Little did I know that he had actually recorded several albums by that time, and would release more than 40 in his career.
I was almost as shocked this evening when I went on YouTube to see if there were any John Stewart videos and read that he had passed away back on January 19 as the result of a massive stroke at age 68. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t heard or read that news when it happened.
I didn’t buy California Bloodlines that first day in the record store. The guy in the store said it was folk/country and that was the last thing I wanted as I tried to distance myself from my parents’ Glenn Campbell and Bobby Goldsboro records. Ironically, I didn’t realize that I’d already heard this guy on some of those old Kingston Trio albums my folks had. Nevertheless I would often check on the album when I was in the store, getting a little thrill each time I read the name. When I got to college I got a lot smarter and widened my musical interests and eventually bought my own vinyl version of the album that Rolling Stone would later rank as one of the top 100 albums of the rock era.
Stewart (and it feels strange to type that), through his work with the Cumberland Trio and Kingston Trio, had been a pioneer in the folk music scene of the early 60s, opening the door for people such as Bob Dylan. In fact, Bloodlines was Stewart’s first solo album and it was recorded directly across the hall from where Dylan was recording Nashville Skyline. (Stewart also wrote “Daydream Believer” which was a hit for the Monkees and Anne Murray.) Once I finally owned Bloodlines I just about wore it out, playing it regularly along with an album by Gamble Rogers that featured a cover of one of Stewart’s classics, “July, You’re a Woman”. When I spent a semester in England before graduating from the University of Missouri (my family had moved back to my parents’ home town my junior year in high school) I often thought of the lines from the song “Missouri Birds” as I tramped around London:
Missouri Birds flying over old St. Louis
Hear that song they’re singing to me
Go into the world, while you’re young
I graduated from college in ’79 and moved to Phoenix, AZ for my first job, driving across the country in my Pinto while Top 40 radio played “Gold” from Stewart’s latest album, Bombs Away Dream Babies.with Stevie Nicks “ooh-oohing” on the background vocals. It was a catchy tune, but I liked the other songs on the album as well, and listened to it nearly as much as I had to Bloodlines. In fact, it was a lyric from one of those songs — “Midnight Wind” — that came to my mind two weeks ago when a friend of mine died in a motorcycle crash. The tune has been rattling around between my ears since then, and it was probably what led me to go to YouTube tonight, only to find that there was one less John Stewart in the world.
I had been fortunate to see him perform in Phoenix while I lived there; he was a local favorite and a loved Phoenix in return, even recording a live album there at one point. I’d like to say that I was at the concert that was recorded, but that would be too much serendipity. In the last couple of years I’d tried to replace California Bloodlines and Bombs Away but most of his music is out of print or available only as an import. Some of his later work is available on iTunes, but his voice — never a particularly strong one — had gotten reed thin and breathy and made me kind of sad.
I was eventually able to get the song “Gold” on iTunes by downloading the soundtrack album for the movie “The Groomsmen” but his older stuff is still elusive. Tonight I went to Amazon, however, and ordered an imported version of Bloodlines before this, too, disappeared. I look forward to re-grooving these songs into my memory banks. Among the many on-line tributes I came across this evening was an especially apt tribute in his own words, taken from “Hand Your Heart to the Wind” from Bombs Away and “Some Lonesome Picker” from Bloodlines.
There’s always one more river the sea can carry.
There’s always one more soul that heaven can hold
There’s always one more star the sky can hang on to
So hand your heart to the wind, let it carry you home.There’s always one more song to sing for the lonely
There’s always one more dream to carry you along
There’s always one more eagle come flying in the morning
So hand your heart to the wind let it carry you home.…
And I’m believing, believing,
Believing that even when I’m gone
Maybe some lonesome picker will find some healing in this song
I did strike “Gold” on YouTube tonight as well, but rather than link to that hit (which Stewart reportedly actually hated) I’ll post a video of him doing a medley of “Missouri Birds”, “Cowboy in the Distance” and “If You Should Remember Me.”
Goodnight, John.
“Now I’m thinkin’: it could mean you’re the evil man. And I’m the righteous man. And Mr. 9mm here, he’s the shepherd protecting my righteous ass in the valley of darkness. Or it could be you’re the righteous man and I’m the shepherd and it’s the world that’s evil and selfish. I’d like that. But that ain’t the truth. The truth is you’re the weak. And I’m the tyranny of evil men. But I’m tryin’, Ringo. I’m tryin’ real hard to be a shepherd.”
– Samuel L. Jackson as “Jules” in Pulp Fiction
I didn’t start seeing the words “life coach” until I began following the Manival. Many of the blog contributors to that weekly carnival describe themselves as a life coach. I have nothing against the title as a profession or a hobby, but seeing those words made me think, “Why don’t people just get a pastor?”
The word pastor means shepherd, and I’ve had the same pastor for more than 20 years now. He, along with who and what he represents, have played an important role in my thinking and actions today. His teaching and his example have greatly contributed to the success of my marriage, my relationships with my kids and my employers and co-workers, my finances and has provided me with the peace and confidence to channel the abilities that were given to me into new and positive areas. Of course I realize that not everyone has this same advantage, though I consider it to be a necessity rather than a luxury. It makes me even more appreciative of the “coaching” that I’ve received.
Isn’t this what you’d want in a coach — a teacher, exhorter, advisor, someone to comfort you in the trials and discomfort you when you’re getting complacent? I have been led into green pastures and to still waters and in the paths of righteousness. My soul has been comforted, even when it looked as if I was surrounded by things that wanted to kill my spirit, and I have sat comfortably at the table with my enemes, willing and able to share goodness and mercy.
Of course what some might call coaching, and others might call mentoring, the church calls discipleship. And one of the things that I’ve been taught is that even as I am continually discipled I need to be always reaching out and discipling others. As I continue to learn and grow I need to be willing to help others do the same. It’s become so engrained in me that I hardly notice that I’m doing it, but I can see it in the interactions I have with our multiple-church men’s group, the “Fundamentals in Film” class I’ve been doing for more than two years with a group of teen-age boys, and the upcoming “How to be Marriageable” group, and in some of the surprising relationships that have developed in my life. Futhermore, while my blog is mainly for my own amusement, it also plays a role in this.
Even so, like Jules in the quote above, I sometimes have to try real hard to get out of my comfort zones, habits and selfishness to be a shepherd, and that’s where having an older, more experienced shepherd comes in handy. That, too, however requires letting go of some selfishness, or at least, self-interest. I’ve not been one who lays down his pride easily or who likes to admit that I don’t have all the answers — at least not audibly. Oh sure, I can curse myself and my perceived failings to no end internally or under my breath, but admitting it out loud is a lot harder. I think that’s not an uncommon attitude and probably the biggest reason so many people have not allowed themselves to be discipled/mentored/coached. It’s all too easy and common to merely want everyone else to change while we stay the same.
And we’re deceived, of course. The fact is we will all be discipled by someone or something, even if we don’t realize that it’s happening. The only choice we have is deciding who/what it is we will follow.
I figure that I’ve probably got enough experience (good and bad), accumulated wisdom and random revelation to hang out a shingle as a Life Coach, but I don’t know if that’s something I want to be, professionally, as opposed to something I just do day-in and day-out with whoever happens to be coming along. I do have a well-paying corporate drone job that I’ve thought of ditching from time to time. It more than covers our bills, however, which allows me the time and freedom to pursue these other activities that are more satisfying, if apparently unremunerative. I suppose I could try to do these things professionally but most of the people I’ve become connected with aren’t in a position to “pay” me in ways that the mortgage company and Visa recognize.
I don’t know that I’ll ever “go pro” — especially when it’s been so much fun to be an enthusiastic amateur!
I saw the news today that American Girl is opening a store in the Mall of America, to complement their flagship stores in New York, Chicago and LA and smaller stores in Atlanta and Dallas (the MOA store will be about half the retail space of the flagships). It reminded me of a post I wrote three years ago about a trip to New York my wife and I made with Tiger Lilly. From the “Gotham Blogs” series:
After the museum we’re out on the street looking for our next destination. Suddenly my wife grabs my arm and Tiger Lilly gasps audibly and freezes. What? Did some threat get past my radar? My wife directs my attention to the opposite corner of the intersection and I see that we may indeed be in line for a mugging. It’s American Girl Place.
A year ago I had no idea of the marketing volcano that was about to erupt under our feet. Then some black-hearted scoundrel slipped Daughter Two an American Girl catalog – the first one’s free, kid – and her life changed. American Girl dolls are a vertically integrated economic powerhouse. The dolls themselves go for nearly $100 a pop, but that’s just the threshold – the dolls represent different eras and ethnicities in American history and most are the stars of one or more books put out by the company and has full line of accessories, not to mention the magazine (catalog) that appears regularly at our house. My daughter and her friends now can recite model numbers, back stories and accessory details with each other the way my friends and I once were able to argue the finer points of a ’63 Impala or ’67 GTO.
When Tiger Lilly picked her favorite from the catalog – an American Indian called Kaya – we said that if it was that important to her she would have to earn the money herself. A born entrepreneur she quickly grasped the profit and loss mechanics of a lemon-aid stand and the economic rewards of an untapped market – extra chores – to build liquidity. With a seed loan from Mom she bought lemons and sugar, and with marketing advice from me (“put ‘Fresh Squeezed’ in big letters on your sign”), along with her natural charm and location, location, location she quickly covered her start-up costs and had money to plow back into her business as well as show a profit. This was repeated a couple of more times, and along with the household moonlighting she soon had the necessary discretionary income to buy her doll.
And now we were unwittingly across the street from Mordor, I mean, American Girl Place. It was like setting out for Oz and finding Mecca along the way. I looked around and saw a definite flow of young girls, many with dolls in arms and all with parents bobbing in tow, converging on the store from all directions. We were swept up in the current – as if we ever had a choice – and into the store. The store is impressive in both detail and scope, with three floors of merchandise and a restaurant where you can have lunch with your American Girl doll for just $22 per person. If I’m going to spend that much for lunch with a doll, I want to see the doll cook the meal and then serve it and then give me a quote on painting my garage. Nevertheless the store is jammed on every floor and countless cashiers and floor associates are – like everyone else in New York – working hard. Fortunately there were no meltdowns to be observed such as those we’d witnessed at Toys R Us in Times Square the night before, but I did notice a lot of earnest young faces making a case point by point. After Tiger Lilly parted with more of her profits she’d been saving for this trip we went elsewhere for lunch (Kaya would just die if she knew we’d eaten at American Girl Place without her) and then, since it had stopped raining, we went over to the Central Park Zoo.
We arrive just in time for the Polar Bear feeding and to see another New York career option – bear feeder. At this zoo they feed the Polar Bears by first luring them out of the habitat enclosure and into their dens where they can presumably be locked up. Once that is accomplished a zookeeper enters the habitat and hides buckets of food – fish, apples and some veggies frozen in a block and smeared with peanut butter – in the enclosure. While we’re watching this preparation we speculate that there’s probably some initiation for rookie keepers where, once they’re in the middle of the enclosure with bear chow and an open jar of peanut butter, someone plays a loud recording of a Polar Bear huffing and roaring.
Perhaps TL will grace us with a post of her own with her thoughts on the new store.