Monthly Archives: October 2013

Let Them Eat Cake Or Candy

Anyone care to remember what happened to Marie Antoinette?

Anyone care to remember what happened to Marie Antoinette?

Daily Prompt: Trick or Treat

If bloggers had their own Halloween and could go from blog to blog collecting “treats,” what would your blog hand out?

“If” bloggers had their own Halloween, they don’t, but “if” they did I’d tell them to pester somebody else. Everything is free on my blog to begin with.

If you want something profound, amusing, thoughtful, or entertaining come inside (the blog) and look around for yourself.

Let me give you my secular view of Halloween. The entire concept is how the welfare system works. Let me start out by saying welfare is good, it’s generous, it’s needed, and I’m glad it’s available. But it is abused by design and even purpose. It keeps beggars from rioting.

At Halloween people dress up as characters to scare the householder into giving them a treat. Tradition has it if the householder does not hand out a treat the beggar, disguised as frightening character, pulls a trick on the householder. Thus the other names for Halloween are “Trick of Treat” or “Beggars Night.”

There is a certain segment of the population who hold society at hostage in the same way. They try to look evil or intimidating and promise to loot, steal, riot, or disrupt society or the common good if they don’t receive something for nothing.

What governments hand out is candy and what the beggars get are a false sense of accomplishment that perpetuates their current beggarly state and rotten teeth.

In effect it is much like saying, “let them eat cake.” Which was Marie Antoinette’s response to the comment, “The peasants have no bread.”

Just think about it; that’s your “treat.” I ain’t gonna splain it to ya. Ya gots ta figer it out fer yerself. (Not being condescending, just trying to be clever and funny.)

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Boise State Vs. Colorado State, Predicting The Score; Let The Lightning Out Of The Bottle

If you look closely you can see the number 9.

If you look closely you can see the number 9.

You will not see a great Grant Hedrick performance unless you let Grant Hedrick be Grant Hedrick. Let the lightning out of the bottle. Grant Hedrick reminds me of a compressed spring. That said, the coaches know more than I do. I’m just a fan and that’s what I see.

Hedrick is trying to throw touch passes to guys that haven’t seen them. He trusts his receivers too much. Matt Miller and Kirby Moore are his type of guys. If he doesn’t see those guys open let him go or let him sprint outside. He’s most effective on the move. Let him check-down while running not standing in the pocket.

It looked to me like Hedrick had too many things in his head against BYU. Here it is; if you don’t see the first man open, move. If you don’t see the second man open move again. If you don’t the third man open, move a lot.

Grant Hedrick is the guy who will pick up the fallen flag and charge the hill.

He has more potential than what we've seen. Someday he will explode.

He has more potential than what we’ve seen. Someday he will explode.

Hedrick has been prepared in the past only for mop-up action and special packages, not to engineer an entire game. That is not an excuse for not being prepared; he is. Let’s face it, we don’t have the talent across the board position by position we have had in the past, but it is developing.

I’m always expecting the best from Boise. I expect them to always play at maximum. I’m a fan and fans think with their heart, but yet there is always a rational side that eats away at me. Sometimes the heart and head are the same. To CMOB (Cover My Own Behind) I’m going with two scores.

Heart: 45-10 BSU

Head: 35-24 BSU

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What’s Funny About Not Going To Kindergarten?

Not my first grade class, but it sure looks like it.

Not my first grade class, but it sure looks like it.

Daily Prompt: First!

Tell us about your first day at something — your first day of school, first day of work, first day living on your own, first day blogging, first day as a parent, whatever.

My first day of school was in 1953. My sisters who were 8 and 10 years older walked me to class. They made sure my hair was combed and my shirt was tucked in. I didn’t want them to leave me.

After my teacher, Miss Kephart, introduced herself she asked, “How many of you went to kindergarten last year?”

I didn’t know what she was talking about. I never heard of kindergarten.

My hand was suspended in sort of an academic limbo. Everybody else’s hand shot up like a jack-in-the-box. Some held up both hands. I assumed they went to kindergarten twice; wherever that was.

Miss. Kephert saw my dilemma and after she told everyone to lower their hands she asked me, “Did you or did you not go to kindergarten last year?”

My brain worked at light speed. “No, but I did go to Canada and we caught some big fish.”

I had no way of knowing then, but I was the first class clown from my class.

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Worn Out (he said, she said)

“I’m tired,” he said

“Of what?” she said.

“Would it make a difference?” he said.

“So I know what works,” she said.

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Requiem For Joe Southwick’s College Career?

This is not the way Joe Southwick chose to be remembered, nor did any of his fans.

This is not the way Joe Southwick chose to be remembered, nor did any of his fans.

On the first play from scrimmage of the Boise State/Nevada game quarterback Joe Southwick sprinted for a seven yard gain and was tackled as he ran for the sidelines. He grabbed for his ankle in pain and was helped to his feet. Moments later he was hopping with crutches to the dressing room.

If it were up to Joe he’d have played with his foot missing.

News came later that he would not reappear in the game. In the second half there was a camera shot of him in a private booth above the stands with his ankle bandaged and iced. The next day we all got the bad news that Joe’s ankle was broken. Certainly this was not the way Joe Southwick nor anyone wanted to end a great career at Boise State.

Before the Utah State game players from Boise lamented Chuckie Keeton would not be playing due to an injury. I recall from my playing days that if your opponent was not playing with their best the victory was diminished.

Like many fans I don’t know Joe personally, only the body language and his on camera presence. He always seemed eager to compete and always mentally in the game.

I recall games prior the his junior and senior years when he was relegated to standing on the bench and waving a white towel to whoop-up the crowd. Then the times he wore a headset and sent signals to Kellen Moore. He waited for his time to come.

He had the unenviable job of replacing everybody’s boy next door or everybody’s lawn boy, Kellen Moore. There was nothing to dislike about him.

Joe became to many fans like the stepchild of abusive parents; no matter what he did, it was not good enough.

Everything about his legacy at Boise State will be talked about in terms of “what would have happened if not for…”

Joe’s first year at quarterback was offensive coordinator Robert Prince’s first year. That’s tough; for both of them.

Southwick was supported by less talented players for the day to day competition Boise State was now facing. Southwick did not have the likes of Doug Martin, Austin, Pettis, Titus Young, and Nate Potter. Those are just the offensive guys who went pro and started.

This year a new offensive scheme was administered. Four seasons Joe played and was tutored in one system of play and was asked to change. Not only him, but the other 10 guys on the field plus whoever was ran in from the sidelines. He was like a general in command of an untested army using weapons they’d never used before. When that occurs there’s a lot of collateral damage. Most in the form of criticism from fans that were aimed at Joe.

He came along at a time when many of Boise’s best (fans) would accept nothing less than perfection. He faced challenges with steely determination, heart, and courage. I don’t think anyone played harder or tried harder than Joe Southwick.

Joe was heading for an incredible year. He is every bit as good if not better than the darling of the Mountain West, Fresno’s Derek Carr.

Does he have another game or three left in him? Speculation is that he will be out for five weeks. Does that mean he’ll be ready for the final game of the regular season on November 30th with New Mexico? If Boise wins the rest of their games will he see action in a possible conference playoff against Fresno. In what post season Bowl game will Boise appear?

Whatever the case it should be what is best for Joe and the team.

Joe Southwick, always ready to play and willing to compete.

Joe Southwick, always ready to play and willing to compete.

As a quarterback no one knows what his future will be beyond college. Will he have a opportunity in the pros? Frankly with some college players that is the only thing they have to look forward.

Football is a game. It’s not reality. Yet it can effectively be used to teach life lessons and prepare one for much larger and more important endeavors.

If Joe has taken his final snap, as sad as I am to see Joe’s college career end in such and unceremonious way, I don’t think football will ever define who he is, was, or will be.

Daily Prompt: Pep Rally

 

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Who Made The Most Sense, Khalil Gibran or George Carlin?

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It isn’t much of a contest. Carlin not only delivered better lines, but he wrote better and made more sense.

khalil-gibran-biography[1]Daily Prompt: Seven Wonders

Khalil Gibran once said that people will never understand one another unless language is reduced to seven words. What would your seven words be?

George Carlin had seven words also.

No, I’m not going to discuss Carlin’s seven dirty words. That’s just an attention grabber.

Upon what study was Khalil Gibran assertion based?

Did he provide the words?

Carlin beat Gibran on both; he had references and the words.

Khalil Gibran’s book, The Prophet, was suggested reading for people and marriages in trouble. Every hippie worth their tie-die, granny glasses, and bell-bottoms had a copy of it. Don’t you find it strange it would appeal to a generation that was stoned, buzzed, high, and trippin’? It made perfect sense to people who didn’t bathe, come in out of the rain, or find gainful employment. A friend suggested I read it, not that I was any of the aforementioned, but he was.

He said it possessed great wisdom.

Contrary to the thought that increased wisdom comes from understanding seven words, The Prophet was a laborious overuse of words. It took simple concepts and added bobbles, bangles, and bows to show-off Gibrans skill as a writer who wrote with bobbles, bangles, and bows.

Gibran himself was a proponent of Syria adopting one language, Arabic. What seven Arabic words did he have in mind?

His writing had a mystic appeal. Which means there are no real resolutions only hidden knowledge and if you didn’t understand it is because of you and not the purveyor of the words.

He was a hack that sold snake oil.

Minus the seven dirty words, Carlin made more sense of life than Gibran and was smarter, certainly funnier.

As for my seven words: “Would you like some fries with that?”

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There’s Something Inspiring About Squirrels

I go to squirrels for inspiration.

I go to squirrels for inspiration.

Daily Prompt: The Golden Hour

6:00AM: the best hour of the day, or too close to your 3:00AM bedtime?

This morning it was 5:25 AM when I got up. That’s sleeping in for me. I like getting up early.

There is a rhythm to morning. It’s pleasant to observe. It starts with nature and moves into the material world, but it’s good, refreshing, and natural.

My rhythm is to start the coffee and toast a bagel.

Even when working at a factory, that I didn’t enjoy, the mornings were good. Most generally I walked into work happy.

This was an experience when arriving at work one morning:

Bill and I pulled into the parking lot at the factory the same time next to one another.

We got out of our cars at the same time.

“Hey, how ya doin’, Bill,” I said smiling.

He sort of grunted and walked on as if I wasn’t there.

“Bill,” I said concerned. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’” Bill said. “Except you white people.”

“Now what did we do,” I said.

“Ya’ll so happy in the morning,” Bill said. “It’s not natural.”

I smiled. Bill tried to smile.

As writer, the most productive time is early morning. The earlier out of bed the better.

My mental vision of a writer was always an unshaved guy with a cigarette hanging from his lips, sitting at a marred desk with an old typewriter, a nearly empty bottle of cheap booze, a shot glass, and pounding away at the keyboard one creative thought after another and the clock on the wall read a quarter till three.

I had a Guinness at 8:30 last night and the only inspiring thought was to empty my bladder before stumbling into bed at half past nine.

6:00 AM has always been good for me. It’s the start of a new day, new circumstances, challenges, joys, and thoughts. I like to meet each day the way the natural world does; like the squirrels who rumble across my roof, scurry down the tree outside my window, and prance and play in the yard.

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