Spurs get Finley!!!

I think this is a huge signing. Finley has a lot of game in him, and playing the more limited minutes that he will be playing with the Spurs, I think he can make great contributions. So here is how the team shapes up going into training camp in the Virgin Islands:

Point: Tony Parker, Van Exel, Beno Udrih (NBADL?)
Wings: Manu Ginobili, Bruce Bowen, Michael Finley, Brent Barry, Devin Brown (?)
Bigs: Tim Duncan, Nazr Muhammed, Robert Horry, Fabrizio Oberto, Rasho Nesterovich

My goodness, that is a good team. I don't think the Spurs will be able to sign Brown now; that is probably asking too much, so they will get somebody to come in and be the 12th guy. And the other interesting question that remains is where does Brent Barry fit in to this roster. Does he become a guy who is the fourth swing man? It seems like a rotation of Manu - 36 minutes, Bowen, 30 minutes, and Finley 24 minutes only leaves 6 per game, and a two guard lineup of Van Exel and Parker might be used to get Nick up to 18 minutes or so. Although with the depth of this team, I doubt any player averages more than 32 minutes per game, and that will be gigantic if that can happen come play-off time.

Tim Duncan did not play as many minutes in any single game last year as he averaged in the 2002-2003 season. And they won the title. And they have gotten better.

Very interesting, but the main thing I like about the two signings this week is that it brings in contributors that are hungry for winning. They both sniffed it two years ago, being 5 quarters away from the NBA Finals against the Nets - easily the worst team to make the finals in my lifetime. So they have been close enough to taste it.

I really like this Spurs team.

Go Royals!

The Royals pitching staff pulled off a remarkable feat today - shutting out the Minnesota Twins despite the fact that all nine starters for the Twins had a hit. I don't know when the last time that happened, but the pitchers scattered 13 hits by the Twins en route to the 1-0 win.

another sports related post

I know it has been a lot of sports recently, but otherwise I would just be bashing people I am not happy with right now, and I am tired of it.

Anyway, espn.com is running a poll of sports fans about who is the best one on one player in the NBA. The choices are Lebron, Tracy McGrady, Vince Carter, and Allen Iverson.

First of all, Vince Carter is a complete jackass and loser. He gets a lifetime ban on any nice words being said about him for his behavior last season. He is an embarrassment and a poster child for everything that is wrong in sports. Of course, this makes him immensely popular in the NBA.

But the person who would get my vote is not even on the ballot. My goodness how the mighty have fallen, but where oh where is Kobe Bryant? I don't think it is even close. Those other guys - well, except Carter, who just sucks - are good, but Kobe can take over a game from the guard position like noone since Jordan in his prime. AI is close because he has the ball in his hands so much. But as a Spurs fan, I still would fear one game for the marbles with the Lakers because at any moment, Kobe could be so good that you simply can't win. None of the other players in the league at any position, instill that kind of fear.

It is amazing what a rape charge and a bum ankle can do to a guy. If he doesn't miss the month or so of the season that he did, the Lakers would almost certainly have made the playoffs and the rest of that team was crap. I am no Kobe fan, by any stretch of the imagination, especially since he cut the hair. But to not even make the list is astonishing.

a great game

You can watch baseball for a long time and not see a game as good as Oakland and Anaheim tonight. Granted, it was not a September game nor a play-off game, but with five weeks to go in the season (32 games, I think), one game separated them at the start of the night.

The pitching was superlative; both starters went at least nine innings. Colon either retired the side in order or had a double play in every inning; one bad pitch to Chavez led to a double in the fourth, and Dan Johnson - watch this kid play - got sawed off but muscled the ball through the middle of the infield for their only run. Interestingly, they had a more dramatic shift against Johnson in every other at bat, but Cabrera played closer to the normal shortstop because of the runner on second base, trying to keep him from getting a bigger jump. If Cabrera is in his usual spot against Johnson, he makes a routine play.

Zito was just as good; his one bad pitch was hammered by who-dat third baseman Rob Quinlan into the left field seats. He pitched nine solid, never really threatened except for the bomb. He had seven strikeouts, and the higher pitch count meant that he was pulled after nine.

The defense was excellent on both sides, particularly tonight by the Angels with four double plays, a wonderful catch by Erstad in foul ground to keep the game tied in the tenth, and a sparkling running catch by Garret Anderson to rob Chavez in the middle innings.

These may well be the two best teams in the AL, and it looks like a whale of a pennant race coming home.

dream about Spirit

I had a dream last night about the dead cat.

He just showed back up at the house looking all ragged but cancer free. Like the vets cured him after all and then just let him go, and it took him a week to make his way back. He looked at me like - what the fuck, dude? - had some chow and took a nap.

The other cats have stopped looking for him, though, and Katie is fine with everything, so all is good except for a bad dream. I would rather of had a dream of him romping somewhere, finally competent enough to climb a tree or sneak up on a bird. Oh well.

Laura Numeroff

The author, as pointed out by Betsy, is Laura Numeroff of the books I mentioned below. My favorite is the "If you give a moose a muffin," but all of them I have come across are funny, and Katie loves the stories. Again, if you are looking for a cool children's book, these are really awesome. Way to go, Chick Fil-A!!!

5 Reasons you can't blame Don Deckinger

ESPN Classic runs a show called "Five Reasons You Can't Blame...." and they look at something that conventional wisdom says happened and then gives five reasons why it may not have happened that way.

It is really cool, and I was excited when they did one about the 1985 World Series. In the bottom of the ninth in game six, Don Deckinger blew a call at first base with the Royals trailing in the series 3-2 and the game 1-0. He called Jorge Orta safe at first when he was clearly out by half a step. It was a reasonably close play, but it is the kind that major league umpires get right roughly 100% of the time, give or take.

Anyway, the Royals manage to rally and score two runs to win the game 2-1, the Cardinals implode in Game Seven against Saberhagen and lose 11-0 and the Royals win their only world championship. Go Royals! They were the better team, had better starting pitching, had better defense, had George Brett in the best season of a Hall of Fame career. That the Cardinals were as close as they were was a fluke anyway, just for the record.

Here are the five reasons given on the show:
5. The tarp that ran over Vince Coleman in the NLCS.
4. The expansion of the league championship series to seven games.
3. Dumb moves by Lasorda in the NLCS.
2. The defensive miscues by the Cardinals after the play.
1. The complete emotional meltdown in game seven.

Now this is the dumbest episode of the show ever. Numbers 5, 4, and 3 are all true statements. Vince Coleman - in the greatest playoff injury of all time - got run over by the tarp covering the infield because it was run by a machine at the pace of 2.5 mph. This cat stole 110 bases that year and got run down by a tarp machine. It is true that the Royals trailed the Blue Jays 3-1, and if the LCS had not changed to best of seven, they would have had no chance to win games 5-7 and win the series. And Lasorda was just plain dumb to pitch to Jack Clark in game six, and if he hadn't made that mistake, the Dodgers may have represented the NL in the world series.

But those are all stupid reasons because the Cardinals had already overcome them by the time the bad call was made.

The bottom line is that the Cardinals played like ass after the play, looking like the Royals of 2005. They had a dropped pop-up, threw to the wrong base, and had a passed ball because of crossed signs between the pitcher and catcher. If (and this is a gigantic if) the rest of the inning played out the same way it happened, the Royals would have tied the score and had two outs with the winning run on second, and at least extra innings would have been assured. Not to mention that the Cardinals had their 21 game winner with a sub-two era going in game seven. So if the Cardinals fans want to blame anything, it is their own shoddy play.

It is too bad this show didn't recognize that fact. By making such a lame case, it perpetuates the myth that the Royals lucked into the series win. Must have been written by Cardinals fans.

why Van Exel

Ok, my sister-in-law asked about the Spurs acquisition of Van Exel. I will be interesting to read the Express News in the morning as the deal gets discussed. Here are my first thoughts.

1. He obviously came cheap if the Spurs did not have to reduce their offer to Finley. He must have come at the veteran's minimum's price.

2. He is hungry. The one thing about his play in Dallas two years ago is the cat wants a title. On a team full of players already with a ring, having someone hungry is huge.

3. Beno is going to the NBADL. First and second year players can be assigned there. The Spurs need Beno to improve his defense in particular, but it is tough to find him the minutes behind Parker without costing them games. So this way he can go play 30-36 minutes per game and hopefully develop.

4. What was the relationship like between Finley and Van Exel? If they were close in Dallas, is that something else the team can use to lure Finley. A friend saying, come on, man, we can win a title together might be just what the doctor ordered.

5. Finally, this cat can get Steve Kerr-hot. He can at any given moment throw down five threes in a quarter just because. That's the kind of thing that wins a play-off game. And the Spurs have won titles based in large part on guys who won one game. Think Danny Ferry (2003, game 2 against Phoenix down 0-1), Steve Kerr (game six against Dallas 2003), Horry (2005 game 5 against Detroit), and it seems like Kevin Willis had a big game for us also in the 2003 run while Robinson was ailing.

All that being said, this was a completely unexpected move here. I read the express spurs stuff everyday, and I hadn't even heard there had been talks between the team and Van Exel. So these are my first thoughts off the cuff.

a scary moment

Katie and I are in the living room working on her homework. She is busily coloring gingerbread men in while I am attaching pages to her alphabet book when the new Hilary Duff music video comes on the Disney channel. She starts tapping her feet and singing along.

Yikes! Is she a teenager already?

prayers for those in Louisiana

And elsewhere in the path of this storm. Becky and I spent seven years in Florida, and we were relatively lucky that nothing bigger than Opal came close to us. But the days leading up to the storm just have a slow building of tension in the pit of your stomach.

All of you in the path of this storm, know that you are in all of our prayers as it approaches.

Spreewell to Denver?

Yikes. I have no idea how close this is to happening, but ESPN.com is running a picture anyway of Latrelle Spreewell chatting it up with Marcus Camby and talking about them reuniting with the Nuggets.

Carmelo Anthony has already had his career damaged significantly by Kenyon Martin. Do they really want to bring in another head case and clubhouse cancer? It looks like Portland may be making a short trip to the Southeast. Egads.

That would be the worst move since, well, since the Nuggets acquired K-Mart. (Excluding, of course, any move the Knicks have made since Thomas got there. Anybody who could sign Jerome James to a five year contract and not figure out that the Allan Houston rule should be used on Allan Houston really is truly hopeless. I am just saying.)

In the mean time, the Spurs are waiting on Finley. It seems like they are still in the running, with Miami, Phoenix, Minnesota, and maybe a couple of others. He would be a welcome addition to the team, the right kind of player for the Spurs, who are in need of another wing. It is a nice fallback position that Devin Brown is a restricted free agent. His back injury cost him something in the neighborhood of $10 million this summer, I reckon, as he would have been in line for a 3-4 year deal if he finished the season playing the way he did until he got hurt. Hopefully, he returns healthy for a full year and just postponed his big payday. It is hard not to root for Brown, who went to high school and college here in SA and has been nothing but a stand-up guy throughout.

So it looks like the Spurs nucleus will be completely in tact. Assuming Finley goes to Miami, we will have points of Parker and Udrih, with both off-guards Manu and Brent Barry able to play the point to spell Parker against the bigger points in the league. Tony needs to improve his shot, and he needs to do it this summer. If he were as consistent from the outside as Avery Johnson became late into his Spurs career, the Spurs would be head and shoulders above the league. Bowen comes back, and plays the three with Devin and Brent behind him there. The bigs are Tim and Nazr and Horry and Rasho and Oberto. That is a lot of depth in the bigs. I know people are throwing Rasho under the bus, but if they can't trade him, he will be a key contributor.

All in all, especially with Tim and Manu completely taking the summer off after two straight years of summer ball with their national teams, I don't see why this team isn't better than last year. Tim played the whole play-offs on two sprained ankles. He comes back healthy, Manu comes back bouncing. One of the great things about getting Finley is that it would put somebody hungry for a title on the team. Not to mention the fact that in 15-18 minutes a game, he could really play without as much wear and tear.

Enough ranting about the Spurs. But what can Kiki possibly be thinking in Denver?

an ode to bobojohn

Let me see, you show up on ywbb on the very day that all of this mess starts. You say you have been reading for months and months but never felt the need to join but you are too shy. But not only did you read there, but you tailed me here to read my posts here - the link had been eliminated from there to here before you ever joined in. You have never been another person over there, joined up fresh, and have made it your personal mission to trash me. At least you get over your shyness quickly.

Listen, I don't mind criticism. I rather enjoy it, actually. You are offended by being grouped in with the dumb chicks, but how could I have known? I had no way to know your gender. Nor have I any way of knowing your relative lack of intelligence. If you are offended by me, it is because you are looking to be offended. You never had any business being here; you certainly had no business reposting the web address of this site there, and while there is nothing I can do to prevent you from coming back, please never do come back.

If you give a moose a muffin

Chick Fil-A has the most delightful set of storybooks they have been giving away with the kids meals the last few weeks. They are titled things like "If you give a moose a muffin" or "If you give a pig a party". They truly are wonderful little stories. You start by feeding a muffin to a moose, and then he wants some jam, and that reminds him of something else, which reminds him of something else, which reminds him that he wants another muffin.

Chick Fil-A has always had the best prizes attached to their kids meals, and these books are no different. I will update this later with the author, but she is just going to sleep over there and I don't want to bug her.

pennant fever

Say what you will about the other leagues, but nobody has play-off chases like the major leagues. It is primarily because not every good team makes the playoffs each year. In the NBA, NHL, and NFL, so many teams are accepted into post-season play that anyone finishing above .500 is assured of making it to the play-offs. And the teams fighting for the last play-off spot are so poor that they are just fodder for the first round. In baseball, every team that gets in has a realistic shot at winning the whole shooting match. These things combine to make the end of the baseball season way more fun than the end of every other season.

Oh, and this just in: The White Sox, as always, suck.

stupid expression

dumb commercial

I really like the show Classic Now on ESPN Classic. They take events that are happening currently in sports, and they compare them or analyze them with a view towards the history of sports. Frank Deford does a spot regularly, and it is wonderful that there is a sense of history in the talk-show world of sports where if didn't happen this week, then it didn't happen.

And they advertise this show with a commercial in which this kid, probably 10 or so, asks the host if Derek Jeter is the greatest shortstop ever. Never mind the fact that he is not the greatest shortstop on his own team. But in the answer, the host compares Jeter to a couple of great Yankee shortstops and then throws in Honus Wagner, too. And as the host is throwing out a bunch of meaningless stats, he says Jeter turns a mean 6-4-3. The only problem is that it is the second baseman and not the shortstop who turns a 6-4-3. For a show that is aiming at the wonkish, shouldn't they get this right and say he turns a mean 4-6-3? Sheesh.

It really is a good show. But the ad sucks.

And for the record, I don't think Jeter enters the debate as the greatest shortstop of all-time. Off the top of my head, Wagner, Banks, Rodriguez, and Ripken all rank higher. I don't think Jeter is yet a lock for the Hall of Fame. He is a favorite to make it, but if he goes Chuck Knoblauch on us over the winter, and has a couple of really crappy years and ends his career in Kansas City, not so much.

poker games

I went in played in a couple of bar poker tournaments today. It is kinda fun - too smokey for me to want to do it very often, but I am a competitor at heart.

They have about 60 people at these things, and so many of them play like four nights per week. I don't know how they could possibly have nothing better to do that often, but whatever. I came in eighth place in the first session, and tenth in the second.

In the first session, I had a lucky hand straight off the bat. About the third hand, I was dealt pocket fours in late (7th of 8) position, and there were two callers before me. I raised the blind thrice, was called by the big blind and one of the original callers. Three to the flop, which was J84 rainbow. Big blind makes a small bet - just 1.5 times the big blind, which I think is pretty lousy, but this is free poker, so lousy is the name of the game. So I raise about the size of the pot, and am called again. Duece comes on the turn, big blind checks to me, and I put him in. He calls and had AJ suited. I feel bad for him - of course I probably would have gone broke quicker on the hand, as my chips would have been in the middle before the turn for sure with some action.

So that pretty much gave me double the stack of the table right out of the shoot, and I played pretty well. Tight, as usual. I was fortunate to win a race when we made it to two tables which doubled me up again and made me one of the chip leaders. I had pocket sevens in the big blind, and after a raise from AK suited, I moved in and doubled up.

So there are eight at the final table, and I am dealer on the first hand. Blinds are 1,000 and 2,000, and as it turns out, both players in the blinds are all in because of the blinds. I would never allow myself to get so short stacked - take a stand and try to win somewhere - but whatever. I am in second or third chip postion with 10,000, the leader has 18,000, and there is about 60,000 in play among the eight hands. Everyone folds to the chip leader, he raises to 4,000, and I look down at AQ suited. I moved in, and he called me to show KT off-suit. I guess he has the right pot odds to call since his cards are live. One of the blinds has a knave, and the other a couple of spot cards. A jack came on the flop, so there went 3,000 of the pot unless I improved, and a ten came on the river, and I was out. I guess it was 7th place because the big blind lost on the hand also. If I win the hand, which I am probably 58/42 to do or so, I have 23,000 and the next highest stack is 10,000 or so, and I have a great chance to win. Such are the cards.

I was able to have a pretty nice stack again on the second session. The first hand out of the gate, I was left in the big blind with 6-4, and the flop came 6-2-2, two clubs. I bet at it, knocked out all but one player, who was on a club draw, but I made him pay for it a couple of times. I had a tight table image and was able to steal some hands, and was in great shape.

Then the big hand of the night came. I held AJ suited, and the short stack moved in, and another hand - loosest player you ever want to know and in second or third position - smooth-calls. I decide to put him all-in thinking that will make him fold and set me up heads up, but he calls. So all three players are in. Short stack had QT, loosey had AT, and I have AJ, so I am feeling great, especially when an ace flops. But a ten came on the river, and loosey had a huge chip lead now. And because he was so loose, he moved his chips all the time, and it was tough to find a hand to pick him off with. Very frustrating. I doubled up a couple of times, but never got back to better than about fifth chip position at the table. Got knocked out on a tough hand. I was left in with 10-6 in the big blind. We are down to five players, and on this hand, it is the button, the small blind and me. The flop comes A65 rainbow. I decided button or small blind would raise before the flop with an ace, so I moved in - about the size of the pot at this point - and was called by the button who had A5 and hit two pair. So I was dead to a six, which didn't show, and made my way home.

And immediately stripped naked and took a shower to get the smoke out of my hair and clothes. I wonder what effect it would have to make just some of these non-smoking affairs. Bottom line is I can only do it when Katie is with my parents, but I would aim for that more often without the smoke. Oh well.

Hugs for Lisa

Today (Saturday) is the first wedding anniversary for Lisa (Nothing Good About Grief blog) since the death of her husband last September. I know how hard that it - our wedding anniversary came in the middle of the triumvirate - Christman, our anniversary (12/29) and Becky's birthday. Because we were both in academia, we were usually off during that time, and every year it was a period of wonderful renewal of our love. And so last year it was so hard. I spent some time in church, and then had some buddies over for a 25 cent poker game.

Anyway, all readers please do hold Lisa close to your heart today. I know that the love of friends is no comparison for the love of a spouse, but it is what I can offer today.

Curtis

another silly reason

Ok, reason number two is another silly one - she made a great Grim Reaper for Trivial Pursuit games.

We had a couple of friends that loved playing Trivial Pursuit in Florida, and I do, too. But Becky hated it. She didn't have time for anything trivial. And so we made up our own version of the game in which Becky didn't play, but she just sat nearby and worked on whatever blanket she was crocheting. She had fun because she was participating in the conversation, hanging out with friends, or whatever. And she got to be the Grim Reaper, meaning anytime you had a question and she answered it correctly before you, you would lose your turn. Now, this would only happen a couple of times per game because she really didn't care at all about the game. But it was always funny when it did.

why I loved Becky

There was an interesting thread on the ywbb a week or so ago, and it was called something like "ten reasons why you loved your spouse." I never participated in that thread. Partly because the thought of doing so was so daunting. How could any list of any length capture an answer to this question. And then I realized that loving Becky was not ever a choice for me. I loved Becky because she was Becky and I was put on this earth to love her. I can't put it any more simply than that. I could no more not love her than I could prevent my lungs from breathing this next mouthful of air.

But I think it would be fun to list some of the things I loved about Becky. Some of them will be serious, and some of them will be silly, and I hope they all reflect the amazing and unique woman she was. I am not going to put a number on it, but just add to the list as I feel like it in the coming weeks.

So a silly one to start: I loved the way she ate the cheddar biscuits at Red Lobster. For most of the years of our lives together, Red Lobster was too expensive for us to go to often. Our anniversary or Becky's birthday, major events like that once or twice a year. And she loved the biscuits they bring you with meals. And as she would eat that first one, she would close her eyes and get the happiest smile I have ever seen. And then she would open her eyes and see me laughing at her and get embarrassed. Each time she would try not to do it, try to keep her eyes open. But she couldn't.

the parable of the Sower

I was asked in a comment why I had said leaving ywbb was against what I feel to be what I am called to do. So I will answer that. Not that I will go back, just that I will answer.

Matt 13: 3b - 8

A sower went out to sow. And as he sowed, some seed fell on the path, and birds came and ate it up. Some fell on rocky ground, where it had little soil. It sprang up at once because the soil was not deep, and when the sun rose it was scorched, and withered for lack of roots. Some seed fell among thorns, and the thorns grew up and choked it. But some seed fell on the rich soil, and it produced fruit, a hundred or sixty or thirtyfold.


I had always thought of this as the parable of the ground. Try to make my ground as fertile as possible so that when I receive grace - seed - from God, I might be able to maximize its usefulness. I need to tend to my own soil, get the rocks out and the thorns out. I think that is a wonderful way to read the story.

But the title of this in my Bible, and I assume most, is the Parable of the Sower. And we are called to be sowers like the sowers in this story. We are called to take our seed and spread it and not worry about which bit of it hits the path and which bit of it hits the thorns and which bit gets into the good soil. Just chuck it and go.

I think my time, especially recently, at the ywbb has been very critical of others. I have been trying to get people to see things the way I see them. I don't think that is nefarious in intent, but that I have such a sense of purpose and meaning in my life right now, and I want to tell other widows about it. But I need to do that by casting the seed wherever I can chuck it. I have spent too much time worrying about the rocks in their ground.

But leaving is taking my seed and going home. And that is why I shouldn't do it. And yet, I am incapable right now of going back.

Curtis's bookshelf

Ok, some book recommendations of things I have read recently. I will try to stay off of the bestseller lists - they have enough going for them anyway.

I really enjoyed Eco's The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana. I just finished it tonight, and it is wonderful. You have to pay attention to Eco - it is not easy sledding. And it would help to know a romance language, as there are chunks in French or Italian that are not translated - song lyrics and the like. With my reading ability in Spanish, I was able to put it together for the most part. And it wasn't essential.

I have also been really enjoying The Sins of Scripture - the new book by Bishop Spong. For a progressive Christian, Spong is an essential part of the literature. I just started it a couple of days ago, so I am not yet even a third of the way into it yet. But he is very accessible and logical in his approach.

Moral Politics is another good read. I think the book is a couple of years old, and it is talking about the ability Republicans have had in recent years to communicate their ideas better. Basically, by framing issues using their language, they have been able to dominate debate on things like estate taxes, foreign policy, and spending. Liberals and progressives need to compete in the language game to win back the middle of the road voter.

Finally, The Secret Life of Bees by Sue Monk Kidd was wonderful also. Set in the South during the Civil Rights era, it follows a 14 year old girl who runs away from her father and ends up living with her black nanny in a house of three black sisters. The main character's mother had died at an early age - four as I recall - and so she is learning to become a woman by learning of her mother's character as much as possible. It is a gripping tale.

Hold Me Closer, Tony Danza

One of the most endearing or most annoying things about me is that I know the words to roughly every song on the radio, and I sing with it. You name it, I sing it. I have been like this as long as I can remember.

And sometimes I don't exactly know the words. One of the things that used to drive Becky crazy was making up words to songs just to be annoying. The one that we always used to fight about was the song "Voices Carry" from the early '90's, I reckon. It is a pretty terrible song, and the chorus goes something like, "Hush, hush. Keep it down now. Voices carry." And I always sang, "Hush hush, keep it down now, 'cause you're scary." Or "'cause you scare me." Quite frankly, I know that the lyrics say voices carry, but I would still swear to one of my versions every time I listen to it. And she used to get so mad at me.

The other song that leaps immediately to mind is Tiny Dancer by Elton John. "Hold me closer, tiny dancer. Count the headlights on the highway. Lay me down in sheets of linen. You had a busy day today." Anyway, it always seemed to me that he was singing "Hold me closer, Tony Danza." I used to drive Becky nuts by singing it that way.

Anyway, I have that song saved on my Sirius satellite radio, so that whenever it plays, the radio will beep at me. And so it comes on, and I am singing along, and after it ends, the DJ says, "How nice of Elton John to sing a song for Tony Danza." I just about drove my car off the road. And my shoulder felt an involuntary pain, just as if Becky had punched me from the passenger seat like she had done so many times before.

another sports list

Tonight on ESPN classic they had the most overrated players/events/awards/moments of the last twenty five years. They listed 20.

Anna Kournikova was #1 on the list. Having never won a professional tennis tournament with all of the hoopla surrounding her, that is a pretty safe pick, I guess. I don't particularly like it because I think the winner has to come from a more major sport than women's tennis. And sticking Keyshaun Johnson up high - I think he was #3 - was nice.

Bill Buckner's error was on the list, but it should have been higher. People talk about Buckner's error as if it cost the Sox the Series in '86. But the game was already tied. The play was likely to be a hit anyway as the pitcher was slow covering first, and so best case scenario for the Red Sox is that there are runners on first and third, two down, game tied 5-5. Maybe they win that game, but they are underdogs at that moment already.

But what stunned me the most was the two NBA players that I think should have led the list. Where art thou, Shaq and KG?

Garnett signed the contract that changed the entire rules of basketball contracts. The owners and the players agreed his contract was simply ridiculous. And what has he done to justify this all-time silly contract? One trip out of the first round of the play-offs? They missed the play-offs this season when he was healthy enough to play? I mean, in football, success on virtually every play requires coordination of every player. In baseball, you only get to grab a bat every ninth time, or take the ball every fifth day, or just in the ninth inning. But in the NBA, you can take 40% of the shots. There is no excuse but one for the team missing the play-offs with a player of his profile - he simply doesn't have the advertised talent. Period. The end. Throw in the fact that he is a god-awful teammate, has broken a teammate's nose in practice with a cheap shot, has run any number of good players out of town. How can you have any list of overrated athletes that doesn't have him right at the top?

Shaq is supposedly the greatest player ever. The most dominating force in the history of the league. How many nicknames has he given himself?

Now, he has been good. A no-brainer first ballot hall of famer. But he is nowhere close to as good as what the media has crowned him. The three titles are nice - but does he win a championship without Phil or Kobe? The Spurs made them look silly bad in 1999 before Phil arrived. Granted, that was before Kobe hit his prime. His teams have been swept out of the play-offs by Indiana, Houston, Chicago, and San Antonio. He has one MVP award, and he has never been jobbed out of getting one he deserved. (Say what you will about Steve Nash last year, but going into the season, most experts had Phoenix out of the playoffs again or a marginal team at best, and they finished with the best record in all of the NBA. Every player on the team had a career year, and that can be traced to D'Antoni's system and Nash's playmaking.) Jordan won however many MVP's and should have won awards that went to Barkley and Malone.

And yet people still think of him in the same breath as the titans who have played the game. He is nowhere close to the legacy of Jordan, Russell, Chamberlain, Magic, Bird, and yes, I am throwing in Duncan. (How many HOF caliber players have won an NBA championship, had all other 11 players on the team change, and won another NBA championship? Two. Russell and Duncan.)

Surely we can place these two on the list somewhere. I mean, if you have room for Nomar and the Ryder Cup, Mike Holmgren and Mike Keenan (huh?), surely you have room for the Big Ticket and the Big Aristotle.

amazing statistic

I was watching a show on ESPN Classic last night about the greatest records of all time, records sure to never be broken or whatever. I think it was the top 20 or so.

I was amazed that seven no-hitters was not higher than 11th or 12th or whatever it was.

But the number one record never to be broken was DiMaggio's 56 game hitting streak in 1941. It is an amazing feat, and one I doubt I will live to see broken. But it doesn't compare to the 511 wins that Cy Young amassed. (Think about it - you take my two favorite active pitchers - each toiling at least 15 years and pretty darn good - Mussina and Maddux - and they have 537. Maddux, to reach Cy Young, would now have to have Mussina's career starting today to break the record.)

But they were talking about the streak last night, and over the course of the streak, DiMaggio batted whatever for whatever, for a batting average of .408.

That is good.

For the 1941 season, the same season, Ted Williams batted .406.

In the greatest two months in baseball history, in creating the most unbreakable record of all time, he batted two measly points higher than Ted Williams batted for the entire season.

Ummmm, wow.

leaving the ywbb

I never have suffered fools gladly. I have gotten better at it in the last eighteen months actually. But the time has come, at least for now, for me to leave the young widow bulletin board.

It served me quite well for several months. The main thing it did for me is help me to understand that so many of the emotional things I was dealing with were normal. This is especially true sexually, when so many of the grieving books give our sexuality such scant attention. I needed it, and I profited from it, and I hope others profited from me being there.

But I outgrew the lung cancer board at one point, too. I will always treasure the YWBB because it is there that I met some of the best friends I have ever had. But I can't participate there anymore. It takes too much of my time and energy and then it turns out that so many - most even? - aren't looking for meaning in their lives.

I am doing exactly what the Gospel says not to do. In the parable of the sower - middle of Matthew, 12 or 13 or so, I think, the sower takes the seed and chucks it all over the place. And some of it ends up on a path for the birds to eat, and some gets choked by weeds, and some gets into the rocky soil, but some ends up in the fertile soil and is fruitful 100 fold. And among the many morals of the story is to keep chucking seed. Just take your gifts and cast them out and don't worry about whether it falls on deaf ears. Just keep chucking.

And so it is vanity or something for me to wish more of what I do there fell into the fertile soil. It surely isn't what I am called to do.

And even knowing that, I can't go back.

broke the news to Katie

Well, I broke the news of Spirit's death to Katie today after school. I didn't do it yesterday because I didn't need to - we weren't home much. We went to the swimming pool after school and then we went to my parents' house so I could go to a meeting at church, and by the time I got her and home from that, it was her bedtime.

So I did it today, and she handled it like a champ. I had prepared her by pointing out Spirit's tumor the last couple of weeks to show that he was sick. I told her that all cats die like all people, and that when our cats died, they would be angels too and go play with Mommy again. And so I told her that the cat doctor had called today and Spirit had died, and she said that was okay because he was playing with Mommy, and we talked about Spook and Tara, the other furballs in the house.

And then she asked for a kitten, and I told her that I thought two cats were plenty for two people. Long ago, she had assigned Spirit to me, Spook to mommy, and Tara to herself - I got the boy and the biggest cat - Mommy got the middle sized cat, and she got the smallest one, which is how she divided things. So she said that since Spirit was now Mommy's cat, Spook should be mine. So now I have a new cat, but at least not really. Because the last thing we really need is another furball. But I am pleased that the news has been broken and that she is doing well with it.

diversity within the church

A very interesting topic tonight with Tex. Sadly, he returns home to Arizona tomorrow. What an interesting character he has proven to be. The man looks like he is in his mid-40s or so, and he is actually 68. He has Southern charm combined with an amazing grasp of philosophy and theology - quoting Augustine and Barth and Spencer and Wittgenstein over the course of three sittings, and in the mean time keeping the conversation relevant and accessible to all in attendance. It is a rare bird who can keep Kierkegaard accessible.

Anyway, what he said about dealing with other religions is what I found the most fascinating. The bottom line for me is that I don't need any convincing about being inclusive and diverse. Churches should be rainbows, ethnically, socio-economically, age-wise and gender-wise, too. The question is not whether to include but how to include. Of course, that is a gigantic topic.

His overriding tendency was to be wary of totalists. Be wary of those who want to abstract to higher levels so that everything is included. Who want to take a little piece of Judaism and a little piece of Buddhism and a little piece of ..... and make a new inclusive religion. The problem with the tourist-style religion is that it is so superficial. How can I, a Catholic and a Methodist, converse with a monk who has contemplated Buddhism in a way that is meaningful to him? Put simply, I can't. What I can do is use my own tradition. I can treat a Buddhist monk in the way the scripture demands, as a neighbor, as an angel, as Christ himself.

Borg has a wonderful analogy in his book, The Heart of Christianity. He says, if you are trying to drill a well for water, you don't dig six feet in ten different spots. Rather, dig sixty feet in one spot. I must explore my own heritage, dig as deeply into the Christian tradition as I can get. I do not have to deny that your well leads to water as well to get water myself. But I am not going to get where I need to go by being a religious tourist.

I do think the exception may be Judaism. I think Christians over the centuries have given too little attention to Judaism. It is, after all, Jesus's own religion. And if we do not understand the religious climate of the historical Jesus, I think we are missing quite a bit. So I do not think that Christians can study Judaism enough; we are, ultimately, a Jewish sect, whether either side wants to think that way or not.

I am sad to see Tex go. It has been an interesting, thought-provoking couple of days. It has made this blog more religious than I intended the last couple of days. Oh well.

For Spirit

Today I had to do one of the hardest things I have ever done. I took our oldest cat to be euthanized. Spirit had cancer; we had known since the middle of June that this day was coming. But starting over the weekend, he was not eating anymore, and he was having trouble jumping onto the couch and bed. So it was time. He didn't even scratch me when I put him in the carrier.

Becky and I got Spirit off of a farm in the middle of North Carolina on January 8, 1995, the day Becky turned 22 years old. He was nine weeks old, having been born on November 4, 1994. Becky and I drove out to this farm after she had talked to the lady who had advertised the kittens in the newspaper. There were two boys - Spirit and Tawny, they came with their names - and thank goodness we liked Spirit better. Didn't Johnny Cash sing that life was hard for a cat named Tawny?

January 8, 1995 was the first week that Becky and I lived together, and we were in a little apartment in Chapel Hill. Spirit slept in Becky's lap the whole ride home, just a tiny thing. He immediately became our chaperone, sleeping between us. He especially liked stretching out lengthwise between us, so that Becky would have her six inches on one side, and I would have my six inches on the other, and he would be shoving us both or meow if either of us threatened to roll towards the middle. I cannot count the number of times my arms got scratched for having the audacity to want to snuggle with my wife, nor the number of times I finally tossed him off the bed and into the wall so that we could have sex. And he would jump back onto the end of the bed and wait for us to separate, so that he could reclaim his rightful position between us.

I didn't think he would live very long in those days. When he was three months old, he strangled himself on his flea collar, catching his lower jaw in it. He cut the sides of his mouth badly as he tried to free himself, and he had been caught long enough when I made it home from work that he wasn't struggling anymore. That same weekend, he hanged himself from the cord holding the blinds. Our apartment was half a story below ground, and so the windows were all about four or five feet up. And so we left a little roll of carpet by the window in the living room so that the cats could climb onto the window. But they just jumped down. But this time Spirit's back paws got stuck in the cord to the blinds, and he hissed and screamed while he slapped into the wall several times. And he was thrashing his claws at everything, so there was no way for Becky or me to get to him without getting cut up.

But lived he did, for another decade and more. He had his flaws, to be sure. He ate too much whenever the bowl was filled, causing himself to vomit. We had to feed the cats on a cookie tray to make him walk around some and slow down. And it is not as if the cat ever missed a meal. And after an unfortunate flooding incident in our house in 1997 in Tallahassee, he never was litter trained as well as one would hope.

But he was always a family member. He loved and was loved, and he will be missed. I hope your soul has already found Becky's, my good buddy, and I hope she has made amends for taking that pork chop bone from you when you were a kitten, not to mention for cutting your balls off. Rest in peace, Spirit.

Spirit Gofoth November 4, 1994 - August 22, 2005.

inclusivity

I went back to church tonight - Tex Sample was speaking on inclusivity, which to me is a broad term, but perhaps in progressive-speak is known to be limited in the current context to gay and lesbian issues.

To me, it is sad that this is even an issue, especially for Christians. Paul said in Galatians there is neither Gentile nor Jew, slave nor free, male nor female, but that all are one in Christ Jesus. Now, if there is no male and no female, how can there be a Christian distinction between heterosexual marriages and homosexual marriages.

I understand the procreation argument, but what Augustine is talking about - and particularly I would reference In Defense of Marriage as I have not read On Marriage and Virginity though I assume the philosophy is the same - is the raising of children in the Kingdom of God. In the Catholic baptism, godparents are selected to represent the community of the church. In the Methodist baptism, the community as a whole speaks and takes responsibility for the raising of children within the kingdom of God. Couples do not have to be straight to participate in this. Quite simply, there is nothing in the history of the church that says that homosexuals cannot be married.

Besides, if we want to take procreation more literally and demand that the actual bearing of the biological children of exactly these two people is required for marriage, what does that mean for straight people? Should post-menopausal women not be allowed to marry? Other infertile people? What if we don't know? Should a couple applying for a marriage license be required to provide evidence of a satisfactory sperm count and healthy ovaries? Of course, this is nonsense. But it is also the logical continuation of an overly literal interpretation of this stuff.

And yet gay marriage is a real battle, and it is sad. It is sad that churches as progressive as the UMC have not gotten it right. Yet.

So I sat and listened for two hours, and anytime you are surrounded by people with live hearts and live minds, it is not two hours wasted. But of course, given the political climate in Texas, it is hard to imagine that whatever "defense" of marriage law our insane legislature comes up with could be defeated. It is prejudice, pure and simple, to deny marriage to homosexuals. Forty years from now, we will look at the fight for the dignity of GLBT people and wonder how anyone could be against it in much the same manner as we look back at the fight for the dignity of blacks and women. That it has to be waged against the church is the saddest part of it all.

For all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourself with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free person, there si not male and female; for all are one in Christ Jesus.

May it someday be true.

And yet it is almost exclusively "Christians" leading the charge against gay marriage. That is simply sad to me. This nonsense will be on the ballot here in November.

Tex Sample

Our church brought in Tex Sample as a guest speaker today, and he is giving a couple of lectures tonight and tomorrow night as well. Wow, he was good. I came home from church and immediately logged on to Barnes & Noble to order a couple of his books.

I had been working on an article last week for the upcoming widow magazine I am helping to create, and didn't know where to go with it, and his sermon today was talking about just the thing I need to finish it, I think. So Katie is over playing with pals, so I am going to sit here and think about it for a couple of hours and try to rework the ending to this article.

fantasy baseball

My brother and I are playing each other this week in fantasy baseball, and my team played like crap today to bring him back into the competition. I am not happy about this.

But someone explain to me how our two lineups could combine for 18 hits, 14 runs, and only one stinking RBI? What the heck is that all about? Had I played the two guys on my bench instead, we would have had 20 hits, 16 runs, and 1 run batted in. Weird.

a sampling

Perhaps the single greatest moment in TMQ history comes from the October 5, 2004 installment.

Last year, Tuesday Morning Quarterback noted of monkey pox, then in the news, "Researchers think the monkey-pox outbreak was triggered by prairie dogs that came into contact with an infected Gambian giant pouched rat. Forget how this chain of events could be figured out in such a short time, while science is still unable to determine why women are wide awake after sex, and men want to sleep. The real question: What caused innocent, trusting little prairie dogs to come into contact with Gambian giant pouched rats?"

My item clearly implied skepticism about the Gambian pouched rat. Turns out I spoke too soon! Today these plucky creatures are helping clear Mozambique of land mines from its civil war. Dogs have been trained as land-mine sniffers, but if they step on the mine, no more dog; three-pound Gambian pouched rats are too light cause detonation. These rats have exceptionally powerful noses, being able to sense the slightest trace of the nitro compounds in explosives. And while dogs will sniff for mines for a while and then get bored and want to frolic, Gambian giant pouched rats possess noble clarity of purpose: So long as they are given a chunk of banana for each mine found, they will tirelessly, single-mindedly spend every waking hour searching for another. Giant Gambian pouched rats of Mozambique, Tuesday Morning Quarterback salutes you!

Royals win!

For the first time since my birthday, the Royals win a game. Oakland missed about fourteen opportunities to tie or take the lead. The Royals played like crap, but somehow enough bounced their way to avoid the 20th loss in a row. Can it really be a good sign when players are hiding their eyes in their sweatshirts when the closer takes the hill? I didn't think so.

Two things happen every August, like clockwork. The Royals are mathematically eliminated from play-off competition, and TMQ returns. For those of you who have never read Tuesday Morning Quarterback, you simply do not know what you are missing. Gregg Easterbrook is my hero - writer for The New Republic, author of several entertaining and insightful books - I especially like Beside Still Waters and both of his novels. TMQ is about the NFL, but that is like saying Bull Durham is about baseball. I mean, someone else come up with a sports column that could salute the giant Gambian pouched rat of Mozambique and people don't bat an eye.

http://www.nfl.com/writers/easterbrook

TMQ is simply a must read for all sports fans. Easterbrook's stuff at TNR is a must read for anyone wishing to converse intelligently on basically anything. He is a unique mind and a fabulous wit. Tuesday afternoons will never be the same.

I hate cats!

Ok, I don't really hate cats. But one of mine just dragged into the house a nine inch earthworm and is slapping it around the living room. A couple of weeks ago, there was a dead bird in the living room, and last year a little grass snake.

I am going to have to put down the oldest of my cats soon. He has cancer, and he is starting to struggle with it. Just in the last day or so I have noticed it is harder for him to get onto the bed or couch.

The other two are free to a good home. They are wonderful cats, especially if you keep them inside and away from birds, snakes, and worms.

prevention versus cure

There is another contraversy raging on the lung cancer support site. It is a wonderful site, in general, filled with people with big hearts struggling against one of the nastiest diseases in the whole world. Anybody who has anything to do with lung cancer whatsoever should make a regular stop by there. Read anything ever written by DeanCarl. It will take a while, but it will be worth it. The web address there is www.lchelp.com.

Somebody came up and asked about how many of the never smokers with cancer had a large exposure to second hand smoke in their lives. Which seems like an innocent enough question, but it is the kind of question that ruffles feathers. (For the record, Becky was a never smoker, and my understanding is that her father did smoke until she was eight or ten years old, and then never again smoked in the house. So she had some, but less than most, exposure to second-hand smoke. And she had basically zero family history.) Now the reason this ruffles feathers is that lung cancer patients are often treated like second-class citizens. Becky dealt with this. The first question she was always asked was, "Did you smoke?" The implication being that only non-smokers deserve sympathy, or at least deserve more sympathy than smokers. And it is just a small jump from that step to say that smokers deserve their cancer. It cannot be said loud enough nor often enough that noone deserves this disease.

The reason this has real ramifications is that so much of the money spent to combat lung cancer is spent on prevention, especially on smoking cessation programs. So little money is spent on researching how to defeat this disease, at least if you compare it per death with other types of cancer, AIDS, etc. All the smoking cessation programs in the world wouldn't have saved Becky once she was diagnosed. And for someone who either has the disease or who is caring for a loved one with the disease, the cure is the only thing that matters. Our world shrivels up, and we really don't even care so much about the disease in general as the one tumor inhabiting one body. Two years ago, if God had offered me a chance to cure Becky's tumor or to lose her and eradicate the disease, I cannot honestly say what I would have done. I am glad those things are always hypothetical.

And now my entire focus has shifted. I can't win the battle I wanted to win a couple of years ago, and so now the tumor I am fighting against doesn't even exist. I am fighting to make sure Katie doesn't get this disease - she now has a scary family history - and that she survive it should - heaven forbid - she ever get it. And so now prevention is more important to me personally than cure. Science has reasonably demonstrated, I think, that 90% of lung cancers are caused by smoking in some fashion.

I know it is naive to talk about simply banning smoking. Banning alcohol was a disaster and trying to do either again would be an even bigger disaster now. Are the restrictions going far enough? In San Antonio, it is illegal to smoke in restaurants period unless the smoking section is walled off and has its own ventilation system. That seems reasonable. Any place that we can be compelled to be - public schools, government offices, and so forth, should be smoke free.

But even if we completely eradicate smoking, we will still have thousands upon thousands of people with lung cancer. Prevention is not enough. At the same time, cure is not enough either. It is reckless to ignore the science that tells us that the causal link between smoking and lung cancer exists. It is much more cost effective to convince people to avoid the causes.

So I can't come down on either side of the argument. It rages every month or so on the board. A balance seems necessary. Whether the scale is leaning too far one way or the other is tough for me to know. It seems like we really need a bigger pie to split up. More money for research and more money for smoking prevention.

And now I must sleep. I don't know if any of this made sense to anyone tonight. But if nothing else, I needed to sort out my own thoughts.

week one

Unsurprisingly, Katie managed the first week of kindergarden successfully. She had perfect marks on her self-manager reports each day, and enjoyed the time in the classroom. I am still trying to figure out how to get her enough sleep, though. She has been going to bed at eight, and this morning I let her sleep all the way until 7, which means we have to be a well-oiled machine to get her fed, dressed, packed, and hugged before we need to leave at 7:30. But when I was getting her up at 6:30, she was cranky-girl. But then I could let her get used to the idea of being awake by watching the Wiggles.

It is an ongoing experiment. Should I really be trying to get her to bed by 7:30 at night? That would put her sleep more in line with what she was getting this summer.

Today she had music in school, and has been singing, "This Land is My Land" since getting home. And she went to the library, but I am beginning to wonder about library time when she doesn't even check any books out. I mean, what is the point but to begin to discover all the amazing stuff located in all those books. Let 'em look and bring out a few and take a few home for bedtime stories. Yes, it is a mess for Marian when they leave a pile behind. But what else does a librarian do but put up books for kids? First, there is PE where they just have to sit. Now the library where they don't check out books. I guess next week, there will be fire drills where they stay at their desks.

Ok, I am really happy with the school and teacher. That is mostly joking.

I got a couple of articles finished today, which is good. One is pretty good and the other isn't, but that is why I sent them to friends and hopefully we can have both be pretty good before long.

Who told you that you were naked?

I was over reading Lisa's blog this morning, and she was telling the story of having to do an ice-breaker in the middle of a strategy meeting. The facilitator - I hate these people, they are just too happy - had asked everyone what they had done this summer. And it got to her as every other person in the room mentioned his wife or her husband.

She had a great story to tell of a wonderful trip to Maine to meet with some fifty of us crazy widdas, but she could not tell it without tears. At the end of her tale, she says she to improve her acting skills.

http://hatetuesdays.blogspot.com/

One of my favorite stories in the Bible is one of the very first stories. Again from my Catholic Study Bible translation:

The woman saw that the tree was good for food, pleasing to the eyes, and desirable for gaining wisdom. So she took some of its fruit and ate it; and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate it. Then the eyes of both were opened, and they realized they were naked; so they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.
When they heard the sound of the Lord God moving about in the Garden at the breezy time of day, the man and his wife hid themselves from the Lord God among the trees of the garden. The Lord God then called to the man and asked him, "Where are you?" He answered, "I heard you in the garden, but I was afraid, because I was naked, so I hid myself." Then he asked, "Who told you that you were naked?"

Genesis 3: 6-11.

Two of my favorite verses are questions. This one, and "Who, then, do you say I am?"

Lisa is telling the story of what she did this summer. I cannot adequately explain the intimacy that occurs when fifty young widows all gather in the same place. It is about more than just being widows. It is not like we sit around for three days and talk about how much it sucks that our spouses died. We do that some, and we compare stories of how our children are doing, or of how deep the pain is of being childless, or stories of wonderful, compassionate medical professionals, or the mindless indifference of others. That is part of the experience, but if it were just that, we could do all of that online.

No, what is really is that brings us together is we can all walk around naked for three days. Not literally, of course, though in my mind I am going through the roster and thinking, "too bad" or "thank goodness" alternatively. The world does not like to think about the fact that sometimes life ends in our 40's. Or 30's. Or 20's. And so the world does not like to think of us as widows because it is not comfortable for them. And so we keep a careful eye on ourselves. We don't want to be outcasts, especially not for being widows because we don't want to be widows. We want to be normal as if it is bringing our old life back. And then we get around our fellow widow friends, on this amazing weekend, and we are able to forget all of that.

The world needs us. Marriages need us. More people need to live like they were dying, or at least live like they could die. People want insulation from that because they know the choices they are making don't stand up to scrutiny. Why work that 65th hour this week when the wife and children are being neglected emotionally? Granted, staying at the office is easier than mending those fences. So they insulate themselves from scrutiny, from life. Until Lisa comes along and has a moment of nakedness. And then they all stare with toothless smiles until she is so uncomfortable that she has to run off for coffee and composure.

Lisa, there is no shame in being naked. Only shame in letting them think you shouldn't be.

mmmmmmmmm

Cathy came over tonight after Katie was asleep, and we sat and watched the Cardinals and Diamondbacks finish up their game. And snuggled and smooched. It was very nice. And when she said something about the Diamondbacks being so lousy last year, I thought, wow, she knows the standings from year to year. How cool is that.

And now she is bailing on me - going to DC on a business trip for two weeks.

I dig her.

thank goodness for friends

It is a quiet night here for now. I will need to pick up a little bit once Katie goes to sleep, and as I am typing this one of the cats is barfing on the carpet. At least it is the ugly carpet in the kitchen and dining room, where really, cat vomit is an improvement. Except, of course, for the smell. So I will go take care of that.

Anyway, Katie is over playing with her friend Brianne across the street. (It is a townhouse community, so street isn't exactly right, but whatever.) The two of them play so beautifully together, and Katie has such fun, and I get a free hour or so to watch baseball, read, whatever.

I continue to be delighted by The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana. After reading the Harry Potter series for a couple of weeks, where a book takes a day and a half, this book seems to be taking forever. But I am writing more this last couple of weeks, and it is just tougher sledding. But so far the book is delightful, and I would recommend it to anyone. Definitely Eco's best work, IMH(BC)O, since Foucault's Pendulum and The Name of the Rose.

And then I don't know what I will read next. I just found out Eco wrote a postscript to the name of the rose, and so if it is here, I guess I will read the whole combo. I ordered it from a used bookseller attached to Barnes & Noble. You just never know when things will show up from there.

Well, it is 6:05, so that means first pitches for east coast games. And I have the promise of an hour without cartoons, and I plan to enjoy it.

grrrrrrrrrr

Bad news from the land of the community colleges. It looks like they don't have any classes for me this semester. Which means I need to get much more focused on my writing projects than I have been the last couple of weeks in particular. This week, I have given myself somewhat of a pass because of how much emotion has gone into it with Katie starting school.

It was a very nice message, and said he wanted me to stay in touch because they could surely use me in the future. But it is annoying. I had never gotten any confirmation of anything, but I received in the mail a letter entitled, "Dear faculty member" last week, which made it seem like I had a gig. Well, the upshot is that I have been hired as an adjunct faculty member, but just don't have any classes this semester.

And so the only source of a real paycheck seems to be gone for the semester. I don't want to find a full-time job if I can avoid it. I want to be able to spend the time with Katie; I want to spend parts of each day writing, and those things would be much more difficult if I have to be working 40 hours a week. Throw in the fact that I don't really like accounting, and well, you see where I am coming from.

I guess now I will put in my name for substitute teaching. It is not as good an alternative, I don't think, as the community college. Pay will probably be much less, and instead of having part of each day teaching and part of each day writing, I will be doing all teaching some days and all writing others. It is not horrible, but it is just isn't what I want right now.

So if anyone reading this wants to hire an accountant for the 10am - 2pm shift M-F, please don't hesitate to contact me.

I cried when they shot Medgar Evers
Tears ran down my spine
I cried when they shot Mr. Kennedy
As though I'd lost a father of mine
But Malcolm X got what was coming
He got what he asked for this time
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

I go to civil rights rallies
And I put down the old D.A.R.
I love Harry and Sidney and Sammy
I hope every colored boy becomes a star
But don't talk about revolution
That's going a little bit too far
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

I cheered when Humphrey was chosen
My faith in the system restored
I'm glad the commies were thrown out
Of the A.F.L. C.I.O. board
I love Puerto Ricans and Negros
As long as they don't move next door
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

The people of old Mississippi
Should all hang their heads in shame
I can't understand how their minds work
What's the matter don't they watch Les Crane?
But if you ask me to bus my children
I hope the cops take down your name
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

I read New Republic and Nation
I've learned to take every view
You know, I've memorized Lerner and Golden
I feel like I'm almost a Jew
But when it comes to times like korea
There's no one more red, white and blue
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

I vote for the democtratic party
They want the U.N. to be strong
I go to all the Pete Seeger concerts
He sure gets me singing those songs
I'll send all the money you ask for
But don't ask me to come on along
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

Once I was young and impulsive
I wore every conceivable pin
Even went to the socialist meetings
Learned all the old union hymns
But I've grown older and wiser
And that's why I'm turning you in
So love me, love me, love me, I'm a liberal

"Love Me, I'm a liberal" by Phil Ochs.


They don't write 'em like that anymore, do they?

one down

Well, so much for the two dates in one day. Michelle is going to have her tonsils out in a few days. And so I can feel a little less like a player now.

I have been listening to an NPR interview with a religious scholar Yarislav Pelikan about the importance on creeds. We are doing a three week set of lessons on the creeds for Sunday school. This stuff is really interesting. Both Judaism and Islam have one very simple creed each, while Christian faiths have spawned over 1,000. Which is basically a new creed every two years.

Here is a link to the discussion:
http://speakingoffaith.publicradio.org/programs/pelikan/index.shtml

I might have some comments on this later, but for now, I have errands to run.

one of the hardest things

One of the hardest things about dating as a widow is that we are used to being spouses. I was not a perfect husband - far from it - but of all the things I have ever been in my whole life, a husband was the most comfortable. I am naturally expressive and affectionate and trusting and vulnerable. Thank God for the childhood that didn't beat any of that out of me; thank God for Becky who nourished it for the entirety of my adult life.

I think the first mistake I have made in basically all of the relationships that haven't worked is that I tend to start treating them like spouses too quickly. I want to know what she is up to, not because I necessarily want to spend every minute together but just because I am interested in her days. But when I ask, "What are you up to this weekend?" it can put pressure on her, or she thinks I will be disappointed if she can't fit me into her schedule. I still haven't figured out how to balance that line between being interested in her life without the pressure. I guess I could confine those questions simply to the past - what have you been up to? as opposed to what will you be up to? - but that takes so much attention to detail.

I just want to love someone again. I am pretty good at it. I like both of the women I will see today quite a lot, and yet it is depressing having two dates. I guess it is a better depressing than having no dates, which is what most of the summer felt like. So maybe I should be counting my blessings rather than whining.

And now I am getting to work. Updates later if anyone is listening.

the blahs

I think the emotion of the week finally caught up with me yesterday. I just felt blah all day long. The change to my schedule is tough - I am having to get up 2 hours earlier than usual to be able to get Katie to school on time. Katie is still enjoying the heck out of her schedule, but even sleeping from 8:15 or so until 6:30, she is still tired in the mornings. Do I have to ratchet her back to 7:30? My goodness.

I feel like such a player all of a sudden. It is not something I want to feel like, and yet, there it is. Michelle called the other day; she has been sick and had her class reunion and other stuff like that, and so it has been over three weeks since we have seen each other, but I think we will meet for lunch this afternoon. The dynamic will be different today, though. In the previous times we have gotten together, there hasn't been anyone else I was interested in. But that is way different now.

Hopefully Cathy will come over tonight - she leaves for a two week business trip tomorrow. And then there are two e-harmony women that I am in open communication with that are both interesting. Amy is the Trinity grad and the Spurs fan and it seems like we each want the same kind of lifestyle. Whether there would be any chemistry or not is an open question. And there is also Julie, who lives in Buda, just south of Austin. That distance I think will ultimately be the undoing there. And there is also the fact that she hasn't dated at all since her divorce, though it has been long enough to not be terrifying. But I know how stupid I was about the whole dating thing the first couple of times out.

So there is the biggest surprise of the new millenium: Curtis, player. Whatever.

But now I must get Katie delivered to school for day four of the kindergarden project. Hopefully we will get more adjusted to this schedule in the days ahead.

Day 2 a success

Woo-hoo. Katie has made it through two days of kindergarden successfully. They read the Gingerbread man in school today, and made little gingerbread man puppets. She is enjoying her afternoon snack - pudding today - and then we will head to the pool to exhaust her further. She bounced around the house for a while saying, "You can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man." So she obviously was paying attention.

The worst part of the day was PE, she said. "We didn't do anything. We just had to sit and listen to the teacher talk about being responsible so we can be self-managers. Responsibility just means doing your job," she said, "like putting the balls away when we are done. I knew that." So there had better be some more activity on Thursday, or she will be leading an anti-PE revolt.

But she did get a Y under responsibility today, which means she is on the way to her self-manager badge, which is the universal code for being a good kid at this school. There was no evaluation on the first day. So all is good in the land of kindergarden. Well, except for the bogus PE class where you don't get to do anything. What were they thinking? Sheesh.

Abel's post

I had a comment from Abel a couple of days ago, and it was very pertinent. And he had linked to a site where he had written about dating widowers. And I just made it over there to check it out today, and while all of his writing that I have come across is worthwhile, this particular essay is outstanding. If you are a widow(er) and dating, or if you are dating a widow(er), or just want a little more insight to this crazy life, go check it out.

http://www.abelkeogh.com/writing/datingawidower.php

the first day

Well, now for a full report of the first day of kindergarden. I picked up Katie at 2:45 as I am supposed to do. She was certainly excited about the day. She had eaten her lunch, chicken nuggets, mashed potatoes, carrots and broccoli, and that was good. And she had gone to music class, and she liked that. She said it was like going to church. At her daycare, they went to chapel on Wednesdays and Pastor Ralph came out and they sang about love being the magic penny and Jesus loves the little children, and If I were a butterfly. So music class is probably similar to chapel in her eye, though somehow I doubt they were singing the same songs.

Her big complaint was that during center times, the kids in the housekeeping center stayed too long and so she never got a turn. She had to spend the whole time in the art center and the numbers center. Those two sounded much more fun to me than housekeeping anyway, but she was upset about this. She said, "When I get in the housekeeping center, I am going to stay there the whole time because that is what they did to me." All I needed to know I learned in kindergarden, indeed.

I picked her up from school, sorted through all of the stuff in her folder, signed all the relevant stuff, and then we went to the pool and swam for 45 minutes. As if kinder hadn't worn her out enough. After that, I had a finance meeting at church, so I took Katie over to my parents' house, and she slept basically the whole time. So she took a nap from 4:30 to almost 6:30, and was still ready to go to bed at 8 and asleep by 8:15. She came into my room about 4:30 in the morning, but she then slept and was still tired when I woke her up finally at 6:30.

So a gigantic success. I just got a nice e-mail from her teacher saying that she has been wonderful. I have such a good feeling about the two of them working together for this next year. I don't know why, but so much of the insecurity melted away as soon as I had met Mrs. Massey. Maybe it is the same as the phenomena I mention in the post just before this one. I had all the insecurities of what a bad teacher could do to her, and never gave consideration to what a good one could do. And now that I have confidence in Mrs. Massey as a particular person and a good teacher, I can surrender some of that insecurity. And it melted away.

Hopefully, day two will go as peacefully.

prayer

So much to update in just a couple of days....

Our pastors often write prayers for the services at church, and sometimes they quote prayers from amazing sources. Last week it was the latter, as they took the following prayer from Prayers and Litanies by Sharlande Sledge. Here is the part I found most interesting:

God, who loves the world so much,
We come to meet you here,
Knowing not only that we are loved by you
But also knowing that we have so much love to give away.

Help us decide what to do with this precious gift.
We can hold it tightly instead of loving other people.
We can clutch your steadfast love to ourselves
Or we can open our hands to see where your love will take us.

That's risky, God.
It may take us to places we do not want to go.
It may call for confidence and strength we do not think we have.

O, God, we have so much to repent
About the times we have not loved,
And so much love to give away.
Free us to open the heart's door,
So you may enter and begin building your kingdom within.

Amen.

One of the most common statements we ever hear is, "You can't be too careful." It is why we put up with the additional security at airports and sporting events and schools in this new world where terrorism has happened within our borders. It is why we have ratings on our television shows - we don't want to expose children to sex and violence, and so we protect them because we can't be too careful when it comes to our children.

But there are plenty of times when we can be too careful. We can be too careful when we see a stranger in need. It is what the Levite did in the Good Samaritan story. He isn't supposed to touch a corpse under Jewish law, and the man is lying on the side of the road, perhaps dead. Well, he can't be too careful? How many times have I crossed the street because I didn't want to be asked for change? Because I didn't want to confront the need of another human being. The answer is certainly more than I would care to admit.

And how many times have I put up walls to relationships because I was afraid to be vulnerable? It has been, for me, simply the biggest obstacle to dating again. How do I allow myself to be vulnerable in a relationship because that vulnerability could lead to pain. We look at marriage and we used to be afraid about the 50% of marriages that end in divorce. Well, the other 50% end in death, and that is none too pleasant. And so it is perhaps easier to keep those walls up, to be too careful, to be unwilling to be vulnerable enough for love to happen again.

I have never met a widow who thought it wasn't worth it. One of my best friends was married a month before her husband was taken from her. Hardly seems worth it to me, looking on from the outside. Even when you consider the two years they were together before marriage. But she wouldn't trade any of it for removing that pain from her life. Never met one who would.

So why are we so unwilling as a group to risk again when we look back to our previous marriages and say it was all worth it? I think the answer is that we know what the bad stuff will be like at the end, either for us or for our spouse, but that we can't know the good stuff yet. It is a betrayal of our late spouse to think that any old person we find to marry will give us the kind of love and joy that she did. As if we would marry any old person. So we allow ourselves to worry about the bad stuff without giving due consideration to the good stuff. We are so easily out of balance in a way that makes us too careful.

Dear God, let me not be so careful that I allow opportunities for fellowship and for love pass by me without another look for fear of the pain that sometimes inhabits this life.

Curtis

Forever

As we were coming into Jim's this morning for breakfast, "Forever" by Kenny Loggins was playing on the intercom.

Now, while we’re here alone
And all is said and done
Now I can let you know
Because of all you’ve shown
I’ve grown enough to tell you
You’ll always be inside of me
How many roads have gone by
So many words left unspoken
I needed to be by your side
If only to hold you

Chorus:
Forever in my heart
Forever we will be
And even when I’m gone
You’ll be here in me
Forever

Once, I dreamed that you were gone
I cried out trying to find you
I begged the dream to fade away
And please awaken me
But night took a hold of my heart
And left me with no one to follow
The love that I lost to the dark
I’ll always remember

Forever in my heart
Forever we will be
And know that when I’m gone
You’ll be here in me
Forever in my heart
You always thought I’d be
I’d be yours
Forever....

the deed is done

At the time I start this, it is one minute to the first bell of the first day of kindergarden. Katie is safely delivered into the clutches of Mrs. Massey. We went out to breakfast at a little diner this morning, and my mom came out to see us. She was excited, ran out of steam before breakfast already, but then bacon, eggs, and toast perked her right back up.

I got her to the library about 7:20 - they want them there between 7 and 7:30 - the teacher picks the students up at 7:35. Katie wanted me to wait until her teacher got there, which I did. But I sat all the way across the library - she went straight to the kiddos watching Caillou. And then Mrs. Massey came into the room about 7:25, obviously with plenty to do on this first day, but as soon as Katie saw her, she felt comfortable enough for me to leave.

Now I am to swim. I did well today - teared up just a little as I made it out of the parking lot. I kept that emotion from Katie very well. Usually, I try to do the opposite, and make sure Katie sees my emotion because I hope it helps her feel more comfortable with her own. But this one time I decided it was best to be a picture of confidence. And, quite frankly, it has not been as hard as I expected. I know Becky wanted to be here perhaps more than any other day, and I miss her all the more today because of it. But at least it is now tempered with the confidence that she can do this, that I can do this. Becky would have loved to have been here, and was and would have been an amazing mother, but it is not as if Katie is neglected or deprived.

And so I have made it. And now to the pool!

sexuality and widows and religion

I have a dear friend who posted about her struggles with the fact that she is sexually active again three years after her husband died. She had assumed that she would remain celibate until she had remarried, and met a wonderful man, and well, you get the picture. She is dealing with a lot of guilt, and I wrote the following messages in reply to hers:

My starting place in talking about this as a Christian is that the Bible is not necessarily the final word. We as the church continue to experience the Spirit of God. And the Bible, in my opinion, is a human document created out of our experience of the divine. It must be interpreted within the historical and social and religious context of the community that wrote it.

The reason I point this out is I have no Biblical support whatsoever for what I am about to say. But at the same time, there is plenty of Biblical support for things we would not and should not tolerate today - bigamy, forced marriages, death penalty, slavery, etc. - and the church communities have moved past these things because of our experience of the Spirit.I grant that not all - and maybe not you - will agree with the above statements, but it is my perspective as a religious man.

Now, getting to the juicy stuff, I believe there are basically two kinds of sex. There is the kind of sex that ties our hearts together as intimate couples. And there is the kind that refuses to be bound, that is more for the gratification of our own desires. The first kind is ideal, and the second kind is less than ideal.And the bottom line in my mind is that both can happen within a marriage, and both can happen outside of marriage. I know because I have had both kinds inside of marriage, and I have had both kinds outside of marriage.

I know you well enough to know that what you are doing is the right kind of sex. You are not with this man for a fling and for gratification. There comes a time in a relationship that demands sex, I think, in order to promote the fullness of expression between a couple. I certainly don't want to be seen as promoting a life of wanton lust and perversion. But sex can be, is, and I say even should be a part of a couple's merging together. We wait for marriage now until the process of merging is basically completed, which is unique in history to our time and culture.

I will certainly not be casting stones today. I hope this brings you some measure of peace.




I spent several years in middle and high school thinking I wanted to be a priest. I think that part of that is a nod to my very spiritual nature. But I also think a lot of it was the fact that I was so unsure of myself as a sexual being, and becoming a priest and hence a celibate would remove all of that from me.

I was a sophomore in high school, and I went on a retreat with the youth group, and we were sitting around a campfire one night. And people had guitars and people were singing different songs, and one of the priests who had come to say Mass for us the next played and sang Annie's song by John Denver: "You fill up my senses, like a night in the forest, ......" It was maybe the most erotic song I have ever heard in my whole life. And in that moment I knew I would never be a priest deep in my soul. I saw in a flash that even this priest was a sexual being and had to deal with that.

I had thought I would remain celibate until marriage. And then Becky came along, and kept coming, and that sure was fun, lol. Becky put it very succinctly to me as was her particular skill: you thought you could be celibate right up until the moment someone was willing to have sex with you. I think that says it quite right.

It is even more true for me now as a widower than it was as a college kid. Because now I know what I am missing. I mean, we all thought we knew how awesome sex would be, and none of us even came close to realizing it is as good as it is. And now, damn it, we know. And we go without for so long as we are grieving and focused on other things. And it sucks. And then we find someone attracted to us, and we are attracted back, and it is not just that we are supposed to not drink, but we are supposed to die of thirst while standing neck high in a freaking river.

Or at least that is how it felt and feels to me. I am, after all, but a man. There are some things I can't understand. I don't understand the thrill of gambling and being willing to blow your life's work away on an outcome of a game or the turn of a card. I don't understand the attraction of being drunk or high. They never had any appeal to me, and I have treated some people in my life harshly because I didn't understand them. But this one, I get.

the day is here

Katie starts kindergarden. Amazing. I hope I am ready. I know she is ready. I spent most of the day just on the cusp of tears. A dear, dear friend from our years in Florida sent Katie a backpack, and this morning I noticed for the first time the picture of Becky and Katie together that she had put in it. It was from about three years ago, just before we moved to Texas, about six months before Becky was diagnosed. So simple, pure, happy. I long for that simplicity again, but I guess it is not to be.

Someday I will figure out how to post pictures and get some on here. I will also post links, too, but for now I am just clueless about this stuff.

All right, I need to go pack a change of clothes for her backpack, and I need to write her a lunch money check, and I need to get some sleep, though I am sure it will be fitful tonight. Wish me luck.

a quick thought on social structures and the Bible

There was a raging debate on a bulletin board I post to a lot about the difference between the Old Testament God and the New Testament God. A lot of very tired bashing of the Jewish religion. Which is sad to me, if for no other reason than Jesus himself lived, died, and was resurrected a Jew. But there was also the usual garbage about the Old Testament being about vengeance and the New about mercy. Egads.

I happened across Isaiah tonight during my Bible reading time, and I love in particular Chapter 10. In my Catholic Study Bible, the translation reads,

Woe to those who enact unjust statutes and who write oppressive decrees,
Depriving the needy of judgment and robbing my people's poor of their rights,
Making widows their plunder and orphans their prey!
What will you do on the day of punishment when ruin comes from afar?
To whom will you flee for help? Where will you leave your wealth
Lest it sink beneath the captive or fall beneath the slain?

One of the things I have begun to realize in the last several months in particular is that my Christianity and my spirituality demands a more political involvement. Not to make the world more pious, not to disrespect others' belief systems, but to make the world more just. It is simply unchristian that my state is financed by sales taxes and not a state income tax. It is unchristian that the state wants to take roads already financed by the public coffers and make them toll roads, disproportionately affecting lower and middle class commuters, especially in the northern part of San Antonio where there is negligible public transportation.

I wish there was a convincing, religious leader in the Democratic party who could talk about these issues. The best I have ever heard was Bill Bradley, and I thought Joe Lieberman would be better at it than he turned out to be. Maybe the disparate groups that form the party can't handle a religious voice, and if so, it is to the shame of the Bible itself.

Okay, this has seriously rambled now, and I need sleep. But this is obviously something I feel passionately about, and so there will be more, hopefully more organized and coherent, in the days and weeks and months ahead. Good night all.

anniversary of sorts

Today marks 52 weeks anyway since the first time I went to Travis Park Methodist church in downtown San Antonio. I went for the first time because I had been looking for a church in San Antonio, but that church and that week because I had a date with an amazing woman who also happened to be a Sunday school teacher there.

And so it is a year that I have been in earnest dating. I had met a couple of women before this date, but Alisa is the first woman I would really consider dating. We had an amazing first date; my brother came and picked up Katie from church for me, and we walked around the River Walk until our feet hurt, and then we stopped for lunch and spent three hours talking, laughing, crying at some place I had never seen before or since. I couldn't tell you the name of the place without checking my old credit card statements. Quite frankly, I was oblivious to everything else but this amazing, gorgeous woman that had me captivated in a way I didn't think would be possible again.

It is amazing to me that it was only four and a half months after Becky died. If someone asked me for advice I would tell them it was crazy to start a relationship so soon after losing a spouse. It is amazing that we dated for a couple of months - no relationship save with my mother and Katie has had more of an impact on my life than that one. Of course, that is in part because of the friendship that has developed between us. It took the better part of this year for me to finally close the door in my mind of getting back together, even as I dated other women. There is no question in my mind that God put this woman in my life.

Not long after we had decided to stop dating, I realized and told her that Gonzo the Great was wrong when he said, "there's not a word yet/for old friends that just met." For me, that word is Alisa. Except maybe it isn't anymore. It is no longer true that we have just met. But that we will be old friends is really only dependent on the length of time we are granted on this earth. A year ago Monday was the greatest date I have ever been on, hands down. I celebrate it in my mind's eye because we are headed back to the scene of the crime for church tomorrow.

And that is maybe the most amazing thing about that time dating. It solidified my relationship with TPUMC. I have not felt as comfortable in a church since high school, back in the days before the Catholic Church decided to ignore that Vatican II ever took place. Travis Park is my home now. I am still Catholic; that was affirmed for me almost two years ago when my grandmother died. During the memorial mass, I understood as never before how quietly I am moved by the Catholic liturgy. It is what Marcus Borg refers to as a "thin place" I think, when the barrier between man and God is thinnest. For me, that still happens in a unique way at mass, and so you will see me there from time to time. But at the same time, the church is wrong on so many things, and I just can't stomach to be a regular Catholic church-goer.

And so now I am a Catholic and a Methodist, and I am so at home in this church. It is a church where my politics are welcome; in fact, it is a place where my politics are challenged and stretched. I love the Phil Ochs song, "Love Me, I am a Liberal." I will have to post the lyrics here, but not before bed tonight anyway. This is a church that caters to the needs of the most marginalized citizens in San Antonio: the homeless, the mentally ill, the addicts. We serve breakfast Sunday mornings, and we have a medical clinic and eye clinic and free showers for the people of the streets.

When I first got to this church, I thought we were doing these things because it transformed their lives. And I hope and pray that it does. But the real reasons we do these things is that it transforms our lives, and quite frankly because the call of God and Jesus simply demands it. The gospels are not suburban and they are not comfortable. I encountered that for the first time in summer 1990 when I read the Cost of Discipleship by Deitrich Bonhoffer. It is a book that almost made me into an agnostic because I realized I couldn't do what the gospel called me to do. Still can't. Not by a country mile. But I try, and we try, and hopefully we can create a little chunk of the kingdom of God right here in the heart of San Antonio. If you find yourself in South Texas, come on by. The 11 am service is amazing, and you can count on Katie and I being there if we are within 100 miles.

Yes, I am a sap

But I got teary-eyed tonight watching the 1985 Royals being introduced to the fans in Kansas City. The game was rained out; the tarp covered the field, but they brought back all of the players from the team except for a couple who had other professional obligations, most notably Steve Balboni and Hal McRae, two of the greats.

The widows of Dan Quisenbury and Dick Howser threw out the first pitches, and only pitches I guess since the game was canceled. Both men died far too young, both from brain tumors as I recall.

But it was a special moment for me, remembering being 13 years old and the team finally climbing that mountain and making it to the pinnacle. George Brett should have been the AL MVP that season; it was by far his best season of a Hall of Fame career, and only New York media bias gave it to Don Mattingly.

Before the game, I tried to list the 25 men on the play-off roster that year, and only missed reliever Steve Farr.

I don't know if the Royals sold their souls for the bad call in game six - which did not cost the series to the Cardinals near as much as the passed ball and dropped popup by Jack Clark - but they have not so much as been to the play-offs in the 20 years since. But it was worth it.

online dating

I have had several questions from friends asking how the lunch date went yesterday. It was really fun. Cathy and I went to the same church in high school. She is a couple of years older than me, and so we weren't there for a long time together. But we had a very nice lunch. She is very easy to talk to, and very easy to look at, which is a nice combination.

One of my friends asked me if I felt any sizzle, and I told her that I am hard up enough that I would feel sizzle with a tunafish. So, yeah, I felt sizzle. Anytime you sit me across from a cute female of reproductive age and she smiles at me, I will feel sizzle.

Online dating is a funny business. Ten days ago, I was complaining about how there was no activity right now. I have been out about four times with Michelle - she and I went to the same high school, though she is old and it wasn't at the same time. (Memo to self, either edit this before she comes here or never tell her about it.) But that is four times in like eight weeks now, and while we have a really nice time when we get together, I would certainly like more. So with that being so sporadic and e-harmony not doing much for me, well, it was a low point on the online dating scene.

Now I have several women that I am quite interested in. In addition to Michelle and Cathy are Amy - who also went to Trinity University and had the same major, so we have a lot of friends in common though we weren't there at the same time either - and MaryJane, who the last couple of days has disappeared, and Julie, though she lives in Kyle - about a 45 minute drive away. It is not impossible, but given three really attractive women in San Antonio, Julie may have to wait her turn.

Amy impressed me to no end when she professed herself to be not just a Spurs fan (they are not too rare in San Antonio) but also a Royals fan. I have loved the Royals since approximately four months before I was born. Anyway, Amy said her favorite player of all time was Freddy Patek, who was at the time the shortest major leaguer and a shortstop for the Royals from 1971-79. Very good glove, very quick. Had a couple .300 seasons, stole over 50 bases in a season I believe, and later in his career, believe it or not, had three homeruns in a game while playing for the California Angels. So he is a worthy choice as a favorite player - no George Brett, but then who is?

But the main thing is that it is just funny how hot and cold these dating things run. In the last couple of weeks in May, I had five first dates in about two weeks, only two of which were interesting. Sally decided she needed someone cuter - who could blame her? - and Jillian turned out to be a fruitcake, though I had no idea at the time. And then there was nothing basically for the entire months of June and July - one gal interesting, but it turned out she was just about to go to Mexico for four months - and I was about to give up on it again. And now it is a mad season again.

I am sure there will be much more about dating as we go forward. Oh, and here is a cool interview with Freddy Patek I found on the Royals website from just a couple of weeks ago.

http://kansascity.royals.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/news/article.jsp?ymd=20050724&content_id=1143925&vkey=news_kc&fext=.jsp&c_id=kc