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Showing posts from July, 2009

Big Cheati

I don't normally wish ill-will to people, but this past off-season Big Papi of the Red Sucks sat in front of his locker and explained what a great guy he is because he didn't cheat and that all people caught cheating should have their numbers adjusted, shouldn't be allowed to enter the Hall of Fame, and should just be kicked out of the sport. Still take that stand, Big Cheater? Everyone who follows baseball knows that Boston should never win a World Series. In 1986 they were one out away and performed the colossal choke. Against the Yanks Bucky Dent hammered one over their cute little wall that's about 250' from home plate (all in an effort to make their mediocre players seem like good hitters) and then there was Aaron Boone off Tim Wakefield who thinks he's playing badminton. Yet they won in '04 and '07 and they screamed loud about everyone who was cheating while they won the 'right way.' The problem being that anyone who remembered Ortiz as a m

Walking in Central Park

As I walked in Central Park I kept thinking of the Mick Jagger line from the song Miss You - you know, ... People think I'm crazy. I suppose the draw to the park is the trees, right? Huge, beautiful trees in the middle of the concrete madness. It makes you appreciate nature, the beauty of the world, and on and on. Yesterday a 33-year old guy was hit by a falling tree branch and critically injured. The poor guy was just relaxing, taking a deep breath, probably listening to his I-Pod, taking a stroll before work. The rotting branch, conked him on the head, and now he's fighting for his life. These are the sort of things that I read that drive me absolutely crazy. The randomness of it all is almost too much to take. There was another horrible story about the woman driving the wrong way down the Taconic Parkway - seven people lost their lives - she was a seemingly healthy woman who became disoriented because she wasn't feeling well. There were four children killed in the crash

Foolish Behavior

Will they never learn? Another Lawmaker busted with his hand in the cookie jar (so to speak). The Republican Senator Paul Stanley (not the guy from KISS) resigned because of an affair with a 22-year-old intern. Same old story. He is standing by hoping that his wife and two children forgive him. They could not be reached for comment. He took a moral stand just a short time ago. Stanley was against planned parenthood because...He believed that people who aren't married shouldn't have sex. God will make him strong. He will be forgiven because he is a God-Fearing man who was just too weak to ward off the demons. Did I mention he was Republican? Another one lined up throwing daggers at Clinton. Well, at least she is female. Adios, moron. He'll reinvent himself and probably get re-elected. She was hot, though. They usually are.

New York, New York

It's always exciting for me to visit New York City and Kathy feels much the same way. The hustle and bustle of it all is entertaining at every turn - and this time, we decided to take Matt along, of course. Matt is a Buffalo-lover - and hates everything about every other city. He was dead-set against loving anything about New York because he loves the underdog, and New York City is filled with over-dogs. With all of that being said I was sure that he would be in awe of the place - it is hard not to be taken in by the surroundings. Let's just say - he's 16 years old and is already closed-minded about it. At the Statue of Liberty he listened to his I-Pod. As he looked out at it I saw him texting feverishly - or so I thought - "Who you texting?" I asked, figuring he was excited by the site. "Actually, I was playing Tetris," he said. At Rockefeller Center I made him read the proclamation written on the dedication plaque. "Cool," he said. In Central

Monument Park

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For the first time I was able to walk Monument Park at the Stadium. I decided to get my photo taken in front of DiMaggio's plaque but could have chosen any number of places to stop. I could have posed in front of Reggie's - three home runs on my 13th birthday to win a series. I almost chose Ron Guidry's - he went 25-3 one year and I thought about sitting in the driveway at my parent's home and counting his strikeouts - 18 against the Angels. Don Mattingly, of course was my all-time favorite player - day after day my brothers and I would rush to the set to watch Donnie Baseball come to bat. Billy Martin's plaque was there too and I thought of standing next to it as I recalled wondering when he'd get fired again for punching someone out. Billy never took crap from anyone. I finally chose DiMaggio because he bridged the gap between my grandfather and my father and perhaps if my father didn't find the love it would have never trickled down to us. As for the game

I'll Be Back

In NYC for the Yanks and sight-seeing, but I will be back to write some more - Matt nearly fell into a basement walking down the sidewalk at Times Square - we laughed and laughed.

Pulling a Brett Favre

Just noticed that this is the 600th post I've placed on this blog, and feeling an awful lot like old Brett Favre - conflicted. I've been as honest as I can be when writing this blog - I've also poured my heart into each of the nine books that I've had published. I've signed books all over the place - made speeches at colleges, high schools, grammar schools and book fairs. Signed with Henry Winkler even. Two of my books have won awards and I've written thousands and thousands of words - always looking for the next story, the next blog, the next journal entry. And now I'm conflicted because I don't want to do it anymore. I was talking with my publisher yesterday, and we were going over ideas and potential speaking appearances - and deep down I was thinking - "I can't do it anymore." I used to write for the purpose of trying to understand. I always felt better when I reached the end of something because I felt as though I had a handle on the s

End of the Innocence

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To every thing there is a season, I suppose. Yet for the past few days I've been toying with the idea of removing the swing set from the backyard, and as you will note it has seen better days. It's not very much to look at, and the damn weeds grow up through the stones I had carefully laid down about eight years ago. Last night I was plucking some of the weeds out of the ground and clearing a lot of the stones away. I didn't actually shovel or rake because of the back, but I started the chore. I couldn't help but think of the time spent on the swing set - Sam took the most advantage of it, often swinging high with the neighbor. Other than that, Rocco and Farrah spent a little time swinging away. Taking it down makes me feel like I'm taking something away. Yet it does little more than sit there now, taunting me with how ugly it looks when grass in the spot would make the yard look so much bigger. Why does it bother me so? Well, I think of how proud I was when my brot

Got Up and Went

Barney Rubble once mentioned to Fred Flintstone that his 'Get up and go must have got up and went.' Perhaps it wasn't Barney who first mentioned it, but that's where I heard the line,and I've been feeling that way the last couple of days. It also occurs to me that I miss seeing the Flintstones - I'd watch that over So You Think You Can Dance - 100 times out of 100 times. Yet I'd be remiss if I didn't at least comment on the Erin Andrews story. She's a beautiful sports anchor for ESPN - and recently she has been in the news because someone shot a video of her, naked in her hotel room, as she walked around, dried her hair, and put on her makeup. The thing about the story that strikes me most is that she is comfortable enough to walk around in her hotel room naked. Now I don't have hair enough to blow dry, and I don't put on make-up, but the least time spent naked for me, the better. There are so many dang mirrors in a hotel room that I can'

First Place

The Yanks have been good this year - fun to watch and a good distraction to conclude most days, and last night they took first place from the dreaded Red Sucks. (Hi Frank). So the telephone call would have come early today and we would have spoke about Mariano being a stud, Jeter's play from the other night, and the fact that Matsui should still be hitting more home runs. The trade deadline would've also been a topic, but I'm sure that this year we'd have agreed that they don't need a lot - just stay healthy. Just stay healthy. That's all there is to it,right? Eat right, sleep right, get a little exercise - it should be simple enough. Yet with the Yanks in first I was awakened this morning to the sounds of fire engines, police cars, ambulances - the whole army of services racing to a scene. And I thought of two teenagers killed in the North towns when their car went off the road, and I thought of people everywhere this morning who are coping with the shock and d

One Hundred? I Don't Think So

There's a report out that polled a bunch of people asking them if they'd like to live to be a hundred years old. Eight percent of those polled said yes - count me among the other 92%. And not that I don't enjoy living from time-to-time. There would be a great number of benefits to living such a long life, like seeing my kids live their entire lives, and watching the Yankees run their World Series wins up to about 40, and listening to Bruce for 50 + more years, and eating and drinking and hanging out. Yet looking at my body now and adding another 56 years on it - uh...no. It won't work - how bald and fat can I get? And the back isn't going to be feeling any better by that point, right? Yet the discussion didn't center around reaching the age of 100 just so that we can all think about crapping our pants again and letting the kids change us - it was a serious discussion about the cost of health care. We're living longer - we want to treat illnesses aggressively

One Giant Leap

Could it be that I remember watching the first moon landing? It was 40 years ago today, and I'm just 44, but as they talked about it today, I had clear recall of my mother yelling at us to pay attention as the moon landing was shown on television. I even recalled that I was standing next to my sister and that I said something along the lines of: "This is boring." Yet that must have been an amazing time, huh? A simpler time for sure - the ship they traveled in wasn't much more than a floating bathtub compared to what we have today - and those men must have been a little crazy and more than a bit scared. I'm not enamored flying to New York City let alone leaving the freaking atmosphere. And think of the American pride as we made it up there before the Russians. A simple goal was set and achieved as a nation. You know what would happen today, don't you? The Republicans would blame the Democrats for stopping progress and the Democrats would explain that we'd n

What're You Gonna' Do?

Twenty days into July and we're still waiting for some sort of weather that reminds us of summer. I wish I had a dime for every complaint I've heard - most conversations of the sort end with the question - What're you gonna' do about it? The answer, of course, is nothing. I've spent most of the year praying for acceptance. There are so many questions shrouded in the guise of life's ultimate riddle - each question is answered with the "I give up" phrase of "What are you gonna' do?" The economy sucks and we all have some sort of answer that we're willing to spout off, mostly in an effort to find some blame - It was all because of Richard Nixon or Jimmy Carter of Reagan or Obama - round and round we go - our words reminding us that there's not a lot we can do to solve the problem. There is always plenty to fret about - most of the time we aren't going to get anything productive done if we worry about what can't be changed. I

Growing Old

Whoever said that age is just a number is basically an idiot. What galls me about growing old is that it took me so damn long to grow up, and now I'm already losing it. I'm nearly three weeks into the back and neck pain, and I don't see the end in sight - I'll still beat Renaldo, Chucky and Pops in golf tomorrow though - and golf is the main reason why I bring up this subject. Tom Watson is leading the British Open at the age of 59. Tiger Woods is already back at his mansion - and Watson continues to hit the ball well, putt like a maniac and carry a whole generation of people rooting for him to the finish line. It's funny, but if age is just a number why does everyone want the old guy to finish it off and win? Because we know how hard it is, that's why. I used to be able to stay up until four in the morning drinking beer, tossing back shots and laughing. Four hours later I'd be back at work. If I tried that now... My God it would be about three weeks until I

Trapped in the Penthouse

Back-track with me to July 17, 1983. I was just 18 years old and was working as a union construction laborer on a 47-story hotel in San Francisco, California. I had just completed my first year of college, and I weighed about 40 pounds less than I do now with considerably more hair. I arrived at work at 7 AM and my boss, Angelo, told me to grab the chipping hammer and follow him. We hit the elevators and began climbing to the top of the building. We didn't stop until we arrived at the penthouse. "Think of it like this," Angelo said, "You're going to spend the next 8 hours in the penthouse of a luxury hotel - it'll probably be the only time in your life that it happens for you." Angelo laughed and moments later I figured out why he found it funny. "You need to break up the floor where it's marked out - there's about six inches of concrete all the way around." The portion of the floor was about twenty-by-twenty. "Someone made a mista

After Further Review

Supreme Court nominee Sonia Sotomayor has pretty much made it through the grueling process of having her life scrutinized at every angle. I don't really care, or know very much about it, one way or another. It's the process that I find intriguing. Can you imagine what it would be like to have every sentence that you've ever uttered read back to you in the search for an explanation? I'll tell you one thing, I wouldn't make it through the first three questions, and most of the people I know wouldn't be able to pull if off either. Who among us hasn't done something insanely stupid or said something completely out of character? Who hasn't wished that he could pull back the words that just left his mouth? I suppose that Sotomayor must be an all right person, but that just isn't the point. How do you not get defensive when someone throws your past back into your face? I know that some day there will be a great judgement and all past sins will be reviewed,

Just Plain @**@&#-Up

Evangelist Tony Alamo allegedly had a number of wives who were minors. He's on trial for these crimes and the woman testifying against him was forced to become his wife for religious reasons - because the Lord said so. That woman got off lucky - uh-oh, just thought of a joke from Arthur. A girl he's dating confesses that she was raped by an uncle at the age of 12. Arthur says: "So, you had 11 relatively good years then." That great line aside - what a mess! This man preys on the feeble-minded and rapes their daughters. I'm sure the family sent him money on top of it. Yet Alamo is accused of even more - his next "wife" was an eight-year-old whom he fondled as she held a teddy bear and wore a Barbie shirt. When his first wife - the 15-year-old questioned him about his fondling of the 8-year-old - he allegedly responded - "Don't question me about what the Lord told me to do." Sadly, this creep is not alone - I'm betting that he has pretty

All-Star Game

I won't even come close to watching the baseball All-Star game to the conclusion. In fact, I wouldn't tune in at all if my boy Jeter wasn't batting 2nd. I may be one of the top three biggest baseball fans in the world, but I take the All-Star break off. Four days without worrying about the standings is a welcome break. Yet I also think about the only All-Star games I ever made - as a Little League baseball player - and how proud and happy I was with that little trophy. I can recall walking around as though I were king crap and on my way to a big league career. I lost that trophy years ago - one of the dogs chewed it to pieces. Which brings me to the basketball camp that the kids are attending. I watched 2 out of 3 of them lose their games yesterday. It wasn't that they didn't play well, but they didn't win, and they didn't get voted camper of the day either. And they didn't much take it in stride. "It sucks," Jake said by way of explanation. &q

Basketball Camp

My sons are off to camp to play basketball and there are a lot of advantages to the nearly week long event. First and foremost they are preparing themselves for their inevitable careers in the NBA. How can they not make it? As a stud basketball player myself I often remind them that there were just a few factors that stopped me from making it as the next Pistol Pete Maravich. They didn't ask what those factors were - so I didn't have to tell them that I couldn't run, jump, play defense, or show any court sense at all. I did have a little advice for them - "Shoot every single time you get your hands on the ball." Team concept? Nah, I was always into getting my points first - "There are no names in the newspaper for assists" I reminded them. Yet, the three boys were completely different in their expectations. "I'm going to dominate," Sam said - all four feet eight inches of him. He strutted across the court to visit with Kathy and I, saying &

Please No Investigations

The report today is that the Democrats are looking to investigate Bush-Cheney etc... for criminal acts and wrong-doing. As much as I would like to know...please don't do it. How much money was wasted on the Clinton investigation where we found out that he cheated on his wife. Millions and millions, right? And it was something we already knew. He had a track record of infidelity and it was presented as if it were new news and when it came out men and women across the nation shrugged their shoulders. What will happen when the news breaks that Cheney was an a-hole and Bush was less than a Rhodes Scholar? I say save the money that will be wasted on a year-long investigation - put that money in say, creating jobs. Put that money back in the school system. Find a place for Ricky Ricardo to sleep at night instead of calling an ambulance (see previous post). Anything but dragging names through the mud to prove, what exactly? Maybe it is just me but it doesn't seem like the rift between

Ricky Ricardo

Just finished reading a story about a homeless man in New York who goes by the name of Ricky Ricardo. It seems old Ricky has figured out that the best way to get a hot meal and a comfortable bed is to drink himself to oblivion and then call 911. He complains of chest pains or suicidal tendencies and an ambulance is dispatched to pick him up. After a few X-rays or an MRI, he is allowed to rest comfortably for the night and then he heads back to the streets. He claims he's pulled this trick at least a few dozen times. Now I'm all for people having a place to rest their heads, but the drain of such a trick is undeniable. Try getting an ambulance ride for less than $800. The cost of MRI's and X-rays is also through the roof. Yet what can you do? As a society we can't leave a man claiming chest pains to die on the streets - can we? Overall the hospital system needs a total re-do. Yet where do you start? Health care for all? Health care for none? I find the whole situation ab

Emergency Meeting

Happy Hour is a strictly American concept. I don't normally attend anymore, but a couple of my buddies and I have decided that when we get too down about losing Jeff (the gang-leader of many of our meetings) we can call an emergency meeting at one of the watering holes. Yesterday, I set the ball in motion. Here's the conversation through the magic of text-messaging. Me: Meeting? 3PM? Chris: I'm ready now (it was a few minutes after 9 AM). Me: Gather the troops. Five hours later. Me: We on? Chris: We should have perfect attendance. Started it with Jamesons and a Heiney Light. Got a call from Kathy about an hour in. Kathy: Where are you? Me: Emergency meeting. Kathy: I hear Mike in the background. Me: Yep, he's in attendance. Five hours later than that, Kathy and I were the center of attention at a party where college-aged kids were gathered. We were tossing ping-pong balls at a stack of cups filled with beer. We were being ridiculed as being old. Believe it or not, I gav

I Miss Whitney Houston

Back during my senior year of college I ran with my buddy Jeff Taylor and for most of the week as we tried to figure out where our life would lead us after graduation, we were often philosophical - come the weekend however, we had to turn into Fuzzy and Fluffy and paint the town. Night after night of fun and debauchery usually ended with us at our friends apartment where Lisa and Lorraine would try and convince us that our sometimes misbehavior wouldn't play real well in real life. During those therapy sessions, Lisa and Lorraine would play music and try to talk sense into us as we nursed our hangovers. The music of choice was usually something light - Journey, Air Supply and Whitney. Fluff and I would threaten to rip the tape out of the player because we perceived that they were crazy for listening to anything other than Bruce. Fast forward to today - I was driving along listening to light rock on Sirius and Whitney came on - it's strange, but I knew every single word. I could

Distract Me From These Distractions

After a particularly mind-numbing day in a stretch of mind-numbing days I decided that the relief for the pain in the back, knee, and neck was to mow the lawn. Not sure why, but after a long work day and with boys certainly capable of mowing the lawn, I decided to do it myself because it allowed me the freedom to just let the thoughts of the day melt away in the sheer concentration of cleaning up the grass that lined the fence. I didn't think of much as I mowed. I didn't concentrate on the work schedule for the next two days or the words I need to write, or MJ, or McNair, or Palin, or even the Yankees. Just the hum of the engine, waving at a few neighbors, and smelling the cut grass. Now I've known for quite some time that I've been working harder to avoid thinking. I've played golf in the pursuit of just wondering where my ball is and not why life sucks so bad. That would be a better distraction if I just didn't hit the ball down the middle every time. Thankful

Can We Please Do Something with Al Sharpton?

I didn't watch the King of Pop's funeral. I went to work instead. Yet I did hear Al Sharpton talk about how Michael Jackson was the great uniter when it comes to race relations between black and whites. Why does that guy open his mouth? Sharpton explained that people voted for Obama because Michael Jackson made it possible. Uh? Huh? When I was considering who to vote for I never once thought of Michael Jackson and if I had, I would have dismissed Obama as a candidate. Where do Sharpton and Jesse Jackson get their ideas from? Why does everything have to be about race. I just know that if a white man got up and talked about his race every time he opened his mouth the press would crucify him. Yet you can't say a word to Sharpton or Jackson and not have it come back covered in their racist crap. Whatever - you can't rewrite history - Sharpton was crying about how unfairly Michael Jackson was treated by people who wanted to persecute him for his love of children. Well when t

The Wisdom of Mike Tyson

I was listening to a sports show that had a 1980's theme to it. On the show they were speaking of the great sports stars of the decade and they were also playing music. Blondie and Olivia Newton John had number one hits in the 80's - God, I'm getting old. Yet the quote of the day came from Mike Tyson. The announcers were speaking of Tyson just hammering opponents and ruling the heavyweight division with absolute rage. Michael Spinks had been a serious contender to Tyson's title in those days and I can remember paying good money for the pay-per-view event. Tyson knocked Spinks out in less than a round. After the fight he was told of Spinks' plan to beat him, and Iron Mike said - "Everyone has a plan until they get punched in the face." I remember Spinks' eyes rolling around as he hit the canvas. I remember being disappointed because I had wanted someone, anyone to beat Tyson - of course we all know how that played out. Anyway, I couldn't get the quo

The News

All Michael all the time, huh? The coverage is starting to drive me a little crazy - I love the people coming out of the woodwork to tell me what a gentle soul he was - and it simply amazes me that the scandalous stuff is barely mentioned. Give me a break - he was accused of the worst possible crime, wasn't he? A passing glance in that direction followed by - "Yeah, but he was a great dancer," tells me something is askew. Which is exactly how I sum up Air McNair - all I've heard about is the charity work with little mention of the fact that the woman who shot him was his girlfriend and that he bought her a car and lived with her. His wife hadn't seem him in days. He'd been busted a few times in the past. None of this leads to him deserving four gunshots, but greatest guy ever? as he was described by a former coach. And my all-time favorite dude was also in the news - Former DC Mayor Marion Berry was arrested for stalking a woman - this is the same guy who was

I Like Mine with Onions

Only in America. Joey Chestnut set the world record by eating 68 hot dogs in ten minutes. Can you imagine? Don't get me wrong, I love hot dogs, and I can eat a bunch of them, but nearly seven dogs in a minute? How is that possible? Back a few years ago my father entered all of us in a pasta eating contest. As we pulled up to the event I recall telling my brother that when we left everyone would be talking about me. He laughed. I ate a full pound of pasta in the allotted ten minutes time to win by a lot. It is still one of my greatest accomplishments. I won a gift certificate for the store that was sponsoring the contest and was munching on a cannoli when the owner handed me the prize - he mentioned that I was a freaking pig. Yet I don't believe that I could down more than ten hot dogs in ten minutes. What gets me about these guys that win such tournaments is that they are usually little guys. That Japanese guy - who came in second yesterday - can't weight more than a hundre

Fight the Good Fight

The band Triumph was big when I was a kid. The lead singer has a great voice and every time I hear one of their songs I wonder about what might have happened to such a talented guy. This morning I heard the song, Fight the Good Fight , and it fired me up. A few times a year, it seems, my back and neck give me trouble. Normally a trip to the chiropractor straightens me out, and I go about my way. It is alarming that a man in such fine physical shape could suffer like this, but what can you do? This time the trip to the chiropractor didn't help and it's most likely due to the fact that instead of resting afterwards I played 18 holes of very forgettable golf. Every single shot hurt - the four-putt display on hole 14 caused excruciating pain. And I'm not whining, Pops, rather, I'm thinking about the people who live in pain each and every day, and still find the strength to fight the good fight. I have a buddy who wears a bag - never once heard him bitch about it. I have ano

What to Do About Russia?

We have North Korea lining up missiles for a shot at Hawaii. The war rages on in Afghanistan. The people of Iraq are still in disarray, and now, the scariest thing of all - I was just reading that Palin has resigned as governor of Alaska. What do we do now? Who will protect us from Russia? We are losing the vast experience of Palin's foreign relations skills. Remember - she kept Russia away by shining a light from her house to ward them off as intruders. Not since Rocky 4 had we ever had such good relations with that country. Seriously though, what does Palin do now? The only money coming in, as far as I can tell will be from the snowmobile races her husband wins, and all the raccoon pelts they can sell. I watched her speech as she gave up the office. I could only watch for about three minutes before the cutesy, folksy bullshit got to me. Three weeks ago she was all over Letterman because as a comedian he told a joke. Last week she made an announcement that she can beat Obama. This

Loose Change

Woke with a stiff neck...couldn't turn my head to the left...cursed the pain all day...and wondered about the turn around. As luck might have it, Bruce was on the radio. The Rising . Can't see nothing in front of me. Can't see nothing coming up behind. Make my way through the darkness, can't feel nothing but these chains that bind me. Lost track of how far I've gone. How far I've gone, how high I've climbed. Thanks for the pick me up Brucester. Headed to the chiropractor. Thought about the fact that the guy does the same thing as Alan Harper on Two and a Half Men. Wondered if he ever heard about that from his friends. The adjustment didn't take long. I remembered the episode where Alan was cracking the old man's back and the old man let one loose. Tried hard not to do that. Bruce was on the radio again when I got back in the car. Go figure. The stereo is set to E-Street radio. Hardly ever a bad song gets played. Loose Change comes on. Sitting at a re

The Big Kiss

July 1st is something of a holiday around our house because it is the anniversary of the first kiss I ever shared with my wife. As I told the kids tonight - "I've been tired ever since." Yet I remember writing something about anniversaries in one of the books I wrote a long time ago - Waldorf & Juli - (which is a great story, of course) when the best man told Waldorf on his wedding day that he would, "Either look back on the day in complete appreciation of the life he started, or he would rue the day as the twenty-four hour period that brought about his ultimate failure as a human being." Yes, I have been tired every day since. Since that kiss, I no longer play softball. I don't spend very much time in the bar. I hardly ever play a video game. Golf is reserved as an exercise for pure enjoyment rather than a vocation. I no longer answer the house telephone because I know it isn't for me. I can't eat pasta every night. I can't just pick up and

Second Chance?

I have plenty of friends from college who still think of me as the idealistic, bleeding heart liberal who walked around with his heart beating outside for all to see. I recall arguing everything from helping the homeless (which I still believe in - if they are willing to help themselves), to abolishing the death penalty (which I also still believe in because it is a horribly unbalanced law). Yet I certainly have changed my stance on a lot of things - even though I try and stick to an agenda that is balanced on human rights for all. You see, the problem I'm having deals with Michael Vick. He did his crime, went to jail, supposedly saw the error of his ways, and is trying to work his way back into football. The old me says that he deserves a second chance - we all deserve a second chance. The part of me that was in sharp contrast with the thoughts of my old college buddies, is withering away however. He deserves a shot at redemption... he does. As I look into the big, brown eyes of m