Tonight on ESPN

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I have this picture in my mind of Barry Bonds frantically peddling a racing bike through the French Alps as he’s chased by pit bulls, all while an NBA referee uses his cellphone to check the scores before deciding whether to call traveling or not.

There are so many crash and burns going on in sports right now you’d have to be a NASCAR fan to keep track of them all. This year in the Tour De France the yellow jersey isn’t given to the leader, but to the guy who collects the urine samples.

At least there the teams have the decency to shove their disgraced cheaters over a cliff. In San Francisco Giants fans embrace Barry Bonds — or they would if they could get their arms around head, that is. I’ve had my differences with MLB Commissioner Selig over the years (though I thought his son-in-law was a real nice guy when he was with the Twins and I worked for the Sports Commission), but I give Bud credit for not wanting to be anywhere near the stadium when Bonds breaks the record.

The only reason I would go would be for the chance to catch the record-breaking ball — so I could call a press conference the next day, use a big ol’ hypodermic needle to inject the ball with gasoline and then set it on fire. (Sure, I’d miss out on a lot of money, but on the plus side I’d never have to buy myself a drink for the rest of my life). I know, you can’t “prove” that Bonds is a juicer (though his post-career endorsement options may be limited to Hamilton Beach and the Waring Company) but who are you going to believe — Barry, or your own lying eyes?

I remember 30-some years ago when Hank Aaron was closing in on Babe Ruth’s record and how much hate mail he received from folks who didn’t like the idea of a black man breaking the mark. Those fears seem even more ridiculous today when a cheater is about to do it.

As for Michael Vick, I have no doubt the Feds put a lot of heat on his lower-level associates in order to bag him and I think he’s (justifiably) in serious trouble and in for serious jail-time…unless he now becomes the key to blowing the whole dog-fighting sub-culture in professional sports wide open by naming names. Somehow I just don’t think he’s the only young athlete with a lot of time and money on his hands and a taste for violence and gambling. I remember an article in Sports Illustrated a couple of years ago that focused on how a number of NFL players loved raising pitbulls. It was all positive on how much they loved these dogs, but now you’ve got to wonder.

If there’s anyone who’s got to be sweating about tips of icebergs, however, it’s Daniel Stern and the NBA. In a game who’s rules have always seemed rather whimsically officiated, the reactions I’ve seen to the fact that a referee will be indicted for fixing games has been less, “You stink!” and more, “Ya think?” No worries, though, Mr. Stern; Pro Wrestling is still packing them in and they’ve got the trifecta: steroids, mad dogs and pre-determined outcomes!

Cap’n Not-Very-Crunch

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The Mall Diva and I went grocery shopping together Monday evening for our sustenance. Usually the Reverend Mother does this after first drawing up a very meticulous list; she doesn’t deviate from the list and prides herslef on getting in and out of Cub in less than an hour. The Mall Diva also created a list, which we followed, but I’m more of an impulse buyer. This explains the chocolate-flavored Cap’n Crunch cereal we (I) bought.

I’ll try just about anything once if it’s chocolate-flavored, so I poured my first portion of this breakfast confection this morning. It wasn’t bad, but as usual I can’t eat Cap’n Crunch without remembering a certain incident that happened 20 years ago. As it turns out, this incident wasn’t “about” 20 years ago — it was 20 years ago today.

I was working for an advertising and promotion agency in St. Louis Park and on that Thursday evening we managed to finish our Ad League co-ed softball game under ominous skies ahead of The Storm. I even got home before the highway flooded so I wasn’t greatly inconvenienced and none of my property was damaged. Things were a bit different at work, however.

The good news: we’d just recently landed a large account to promote Quaker Oats cereal in the institutional market. The bad news: the “product” didn’t come in cute boxes like in the grocery store, but in large plastic bags almost as big as me. Many bags of “product” had been delivered for a catalog photo-shoot and were waiting patiently in our cool, dry storeroom. A cool, dry storeroom that happened to be at the lowest corner of our building and was no longer very cool and definitely not very dry.

Picture, if you will, the image of several hundred pounds of Cap’n Crunch and other cereals swelling and bursting out of its containers and washing across the floor like a great, rising, golden wave of something that looked rather like hominy. Do you have a picture in your head? Great. Now, imagine the smell.

Fortunately I already had scheduled the day off from work, so I’m not sure how long it took others to shovel out the effluent blob of not-so-goodness. I do know that the scent lingered well into winter.

Biding my time

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The crickets here in Texas are so loud, even during the day. Their voice box and vocal cords must be mutated.

All the rest of the missionaries arrive today. I’m approaching this with some trepidation, because I don’t know what they’ll be like. The people already here are really nice. I’ll have random people coming up to me and saying, “Hi, you’re Patience, right? I know your Mom.”

There’s a guy named Angelo here that I had a really good talk with this morning. He just turned 20 yesterday. He’s really nice, and he’s going to Romania with us! We were talking about Teen Mania and what we wanted to do in life. He said he wanted to travel around the world and preach in different churches. Future husband prospect? Hmmm… just kidding! I wouldn’t want to submit him to the usual torture for prospective boyfriends … disembowelment… decapitation… having a harpoon run through him. Or even being thrown out the window by my Dad, wearing his Haggar pants.

Well, I’m off to check the blogs.

Ciao for now!

Before you get to Romania, you have to survive Texas

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Night Writer note: The Reverend Mother is one of the adult leaders of the Global Expeditions-Teen Mania youth mission trip to Romania. As such she had to report to the GE campus a couple of days ahead of the young missionaries for special training, though she wasn’t sure what this was to entail. Apparently she’s found out, and files this report:

Our team consists of about 10 people. Two Project Directors, four Team Leaders and about six Missionary Advisor Candidates. The actual Missionary Advisors (MAs) will be chosen during the training by the Project Directors. Our leader is a runner and in very good condition. I estimate him to be about 40. He made us do a light jog to the ropes course, about 1/5 of a mile. I’m no runner, but at least I didn’t keel over or anything, even though it’s very hot.

The first exercise required us to lift a tire from the ground off of an eight foot pole using nothing but ourselves. The tire and our bodies could never touch the pole. The facilitator of this little piece of torture would also give us random limitations, such as some of our group were blind or missing limbs, or couldn’t speak. It was frustrating, but we did it. We decided as a group that what we needed to take from that activity was teamwork and communication.

The next exercise required us to escape from a roped off area between four trees. The rope was about waist high and was ‘electric’ and below the rope was invisible razor wire so it was pretty deadly. If any parts of our bodies touched the ‘electric wire’ that part was gone. We lost some legs and arms and one guy lost his back. That must have hurt. Then a few of us, including me, ended up blind for some reason that I can no longer recall. We were at the mercy of the facilitator.

Ultimately we made a “step” on the inside of the enclosure and got the first person out, then that person became a “step” on the outside and many of us were able to ‘walk’ over with a great deal of assistance from our team mates. I was ‘blind’ when I went over. The biggest challenges were getting our 300 lb team member out and getting the last person out. We did have the use of a four-foot long 2×4 and got her out using that. Two guys held it above the wire across a corner and she managed to hoist herself onto it and then they shifted it over far enough for her to hop down on the outside. It was much more difficult than it sounds, because at no time could anything touch the wire.


Here is most of our group, Sunday night after dinner.
(Kevin – Angelo is the dark-haired guy fourth from the left. Thanks, NW.)

The last activity required us all to scale a ten-foot wall using only our bodies and again some people ‘lost’ the use of limbs at the discretion of the facilitator. We didn’t manage to get everyone over within the time-frame allotted, but we did get Dan, the big guy, over, which was nothing short of miraculous. We got over by climbing up two of our team members who stood against the wall and then others hoisted us each up till we could gain enough purchase to stand up on their shoulders and then reach up to the people above us so they could pull us up. Once you got up onto the guy’s shoulders and reached up you really didn’t have to do much but just allow yourself to be pulled up and over. The first person however, had to get themselves up there with no one to pull him. Obviously, that was one of the more athletic guys in our group.

After each activity we would discuss what we had done, how we could do it better, and the things that we needed to take away from the process to use when we get on the field. I guess I can see the application to the team work we will be involved in while taking sixty 11 – 13 year olds to a foreign country. Btw, this is the first time GE has taken people this young abroad. I’m trying to gear myself up for a lot of work. The missionaries are arriving today and when they get here its going to get very hectic!

I’m all aloooone…

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The Reverend Mother and Tiger Lilly are gone (see previous post) and the Mall Diva went to Duluth Friday afternoon with some friends for a weekend women’s retreat, leaving me to kick around the big house by myself.

What to do…what to do…what to do…

I might take myself out for dinner and movie tonight if I can decide what I want to eat and see. Tiger Lilly also emailed to remind me to pick up the new Harry Potter book for her since she’s not going to be able to get one herself for awhile (unless she wants the Transylvanian translation, that is).

I went out earlier this afternoon and picked up the book from the big stack at Walmart, along with a few bachelor snacks (mmmm, pork rinds!). I suppose I could spend the evening reading the book.

Or, I could just read the last few pages ….

*flip, flip, flip*

Hmmm. Mmm-hmmm. Huh. Well, that’s certainly interesting! I never expected Harry and Voldemort to suddenly apparate in the midst of the Soprano family in a New Jersey diner in order to fight their last duel!

The Road to Romania

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Tiger Lilly and the Reverend Mother left for Romania yesterday morning though it will be a few more days before they actually leave the country since they have to undergo some training and orientation at the Global Expedition headquarters in Garden City, Texas, including meeting the other members of the group.

The Mall Diva and I got up at 3:30 Friday morning to take them to the airport for their 5:30 a.m. flight. RM and TL were up well before that (if, indeed, they slept at all the night before leaving). Just about everything was packed and loaded into the car the night before, including two fully-stuffed suitcases so heavy I seriously wondered how they were going to manage these without me. A lot of the weight and space is taken up by bedding that they have to bring along and which will ultimately be left behind at some point. I’m not sure why a 5:30 a.m. flight was necessary and apparently neither was Continental Airlines because they ended up canceling the flight after we dropped the missionaries off. They were ultimately delayed only a couple of hours before getting on their way, but it would have been nice to have spent those hours in bed.

Driving home from the airport the Mall Diva said, “Let’s go to breakfast!” That sounded like a good idea for, oh, three or four seconds, but my eyes felt so gritty I said I just wanted to go back to bed. To my surprise I was actually able to go back to sleep and when I got up we did go out. I’m always amazed at how much Eggs Benedict and hash browns the Diva can put into her tiny frame. There wasn’t any rest for the travelers, however, who still had a two-hour drive from the Dallas airport to get to their destination. At one point the Reverend Mother had to pull over on a quiet road to try and take a 20-minute nap.

No such luck. After about five minutes a truck stopped to see if they needed any help. The situation was explained and the truck drove off. Two minutes later another truck slowed for the same purpose and was waved off. Nice, friendly people those Texans. Fortunately the ladies arrived safely and Tiger Lilly emailed me the details. Their luggage was so full that in the end they decided not to take the laptop along, but they will be sending updates and/or posting from wherever they can find access in Texas and Oradea, Romania (which supposedly has numerous internet cafes).

“No controlling legal authority…”

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Well, that’s a relief. It turns out that the endangered Chilean sea bass that Al Gore and others dined on during the rehearsal dinner for his daughter’s wedding were not so endangered after all (though the particular entrees in question might choose to quibble). While the Chilean sea bass (aka Patagonian toothfish) species as a whole is clinging to survival as desperately as the McCain campaign, it turns out that the ones invited to the Gore table were special:

But the fish enjoyed by the Gores were not endangered or illegally caught.

Rather, the restaurant later confirmed, they had come from one of the world’s few well-managed, sustainable populations of toothfish, and caught and documented in compliance with Marine Stewardship Council regulations. The Gores’ spokesman, Kalee Kreider, admitted that the fish has been on the menu, but said: “The Gores absolutely agree with this humane society and the rest of the environmental community about illegally caught Chilean sea bass.

(HT: The Far Wright)

I’m sure that further investigation will show that the Marine Stewardship Council regulations also require that the fish enjoy government-funded universal health and dental benefits, lifetime education in government schools, and are harvested only by electric hybrid and bio-diesel equipped trawlers. Though not native to the U.S., the toothfish were here as “guest workers” and were happy to pay for a better wedding after Gore personally assured them that there was no “controlling legal authority” and that it “was for the (my) children.”

I also look for the Gores to announce they are purchasing “tarpon offsets” to counter their conspicuous consumption.

Leaving on a business trip

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“Missions trip” has a certain connotation in religious circles, denoting a special status for what really should be viewed as an every day outlook on life. (Our pastor has said, “God will send you across the world, but He also wants to send you across the street.”) I suppose you could say Jesus went on the ultimate “missions trip” when He was sent to us. At one point during this mission He said, “I must be about my Father’s business.”

Later this week Tiger Lilly and the Reverend Mother will therefore be leaving on their own business trip to Romania, with a stop in Texas for some training and orientation on the way. It’s a trip that was researched and instigated about a year ago by Tiger Lilly through Global Expeditions. Some time after she had committed to go her mother was also led to join the group. TL was ready and willing to go it on her own with the Global Expeditions team, but is glad to have her favorite mom along. Despite being “just” 13, this is her second overseas trip, having gone with her mother to China for three weeks the summer before last. (Details here, here and here).

I hope Tiger Lilly will have time before they leave to put up a post on how and why she chose this trip and how she was able to raise enough money not only for this trip but to also set some aside for the next one, whenever or wherever that may be. She and the Reverend Mother are taking a wireless laptop along and the digital camera and should have relatively good access for posting as the trip goes on. Stay tuned.


Last Sunday our church prayed for our latest missionaries.

MOB Action

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The whole family made it over to Keegan’s Saturday night for a lovely evening with many of our fellow bloggers from the Minnesota Organization of Bloggers. I didn’t wear a Hawaiian shirt, despite Kevin and Ben’s attempts at peer pressure which didn’t work because, well, they’d have to be my peers. Anyway, since a picture is worth a thousand words, here’s about a month’s worth (at my recent pace) of blogging:


Surly Dave rode his new Moto Guzzi to the event and was “Kindly Dave” enough to let a long-time biker,
the Reverend Mother, take it for a spin.


Mocha Momma and Kingdavid from The Far Wright joined the festivities. (That’s Dan Stover, the Northern Alliance Wannabe in the background.)


Jennifer and Brad Carlson made their debut at one of our official MOB functions.


I think Learned Foot is beckoning the photographer to come closer. Either that or he’s ordering a beer and a shot, hold the beer.


After two years of trying, Kevin finally snuck a beer past me to the Mall Diva. (Don’t worry, Mr. Keegan, she gave it back.)


The Reverend Mother spent part of the evening eavesdropping on Mitch Berg. “He’s really interesting,” she said. “Is there anything he doesn’t have an opinion on?” If so, we haven’t found it. I do know he likes Springsteen and, along with Strommie, the Mall Diva.


Diamond Dog (Scott Brooks) from Freedom Dogs and King Banaian from SCSU Scholars.

While this post might give you the impression that all I did all evening was run around and take pictures, that would not be correct. I spent the evening talking with the folks shown above and many others, including John and his wife from Roosh Five and Jeff Kouba from Peace Like a River and Truth vs. the Machine. The photos were taken by Ben from Hammerswing with my camera, however. I’ve emailed a lot of the images to him for him to post so you might want to check over at his blog in the next couple of days to see what he has added.

The Rediculous Meanderings of Two Chicks in a Bistro

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Co-blogging: Reverend Mother and Mall Diva

Setting: Panera Bread in MPLS

MD: Mmmm! These are like muffin cookies!
RM: Yeah, but not like meat cookies.
MD: The lightbulb goes on…That must be why they’re called “Muffies”!
RM: So what are we going to talk about? Steals some of MD’s Carrot Walnut Mini Bundt cake.
MD: Hey! Mine!
RM: Why are you eating all this? Aren’t you looking too good in your fat jeans? Are you writing this down?
MD: I don’t need to worry about that if you’re eating all my food.
RM: You could do what that guy is doing- Stand on the corner and jog in place.
MD: I’m wearing the wrong shoes. Takes a bite of RM’s Pumpkin Muffie…
RM: Hey!
MD: You offered it to me.
RM: Oooh, there’s a cool looking dude.
MD: Gags. He’s wearing a tye-dye shirt that doesn’t even meet his pants!
RM pokes MD and points out the window at a VW Bug
MD: Ooh! It’s a convertible! Look at the guy driving-
RM: Yeah, in his white shirt and black tie. I bet if you went out there and batted your eyelashes at him, he’d give you a ride.
MD: Most guys that drive Bugs are gay. If I went out there and batted my eyelashes at him, he’d probably throw up.
RM: Not all guys are. I think your father should get one and throw off the whole paradigm. Pokes MD again.
MD: Can you imagine dad driving a Bug?
RM thinks for a second and bursts out laughing: No!
MD: This cake is so good.
RM: It’s somewhat good.
MD: Better than yours.
RM: Not better than the Pumpkin Muffie.
MD: Well I like it better.
RM: I’m thinking about trying oatmeal.
MD: Trying oatmeal? Haven’t you had oatmeal before?
RM: Not since I was under 5. Oh, I remember one time I was at an aunt’s house and she served it for breakfast, and I ate it until someone mentioned that I didn’t like it.
MD: So it sounds like you stopped eating it because someone said you didn’t like it. The power of suggestion.
RM: No, when my Aunt found out I didn’t like it, she said I could have something else. I don’t remember what I had, though. Maybe Bourbon.
MD: What, vermin?
RM: No! Bourbon.
MD: Oh. For breakfast?
RM: I haven’t had oatmeal since I was very young and I’ve never had Bourbon.
MD: Well it’s not too late to start.
RM laughs.
RM: Look! A truck full of motorcycles!
MD: Cool! Snugglebug! There’s a guy wearing a Hawaiian shirt. I wonder if he’s going to the MOB party tomorrow?
RM: He probably won’t be wearing it until then. Pokes MD. Look! There’s Surdyk’s cheese shop! We could go get some double Gloucester!
MD: Or some liquor.
RM: Is that a guy? He’s wearing a dress! He’s doing his Jesus imitation. He needs an intervention.
MD: He’s drinking out of a mason jar.
MD: I think it’s Health Inspector day. You know, we’re way funnier when Tiger Lilly isn’t around.
RM nods.
RM: I want a motorcycle. That girl has one. Let’s go test drive some motorcycles today.
MD: Ok. Can you test drive a motorcycle if you don’t have a motorcycle license?
RM: No, you can’t! You’ll have to ride behind me. Dad bought a flat screen TV. I should be able to buy a motorcycle.
MD: Do you know how hard it is to type “motorcycle” over and over?
RM: You need to cut and paste.

End.