Random Stuff

What's crackin' friends? I'm not speaking to my frienemies today.

Hope you all had a wonderful weekend, and thank you for weighing in on the first chapter of our race relations series. If you haven't checked out that post, feel free to take a minute, go back, read it and comment. Chapter Two will post Thursday or Friday.

So my weekend was pretty uneventful.

Saturday morning we stopped at a Miami-area mall for some crap I can't even remember right now. We had the pleasure of seeing auditions for the Miami Dolphins cheer leading squad. Of course, I didn't realize the whole set-up was for auditions, at first. Thankfully Mrs. B stopped me before I could wave dollar bills at the stage. And for some reason no one near me thought it was funny when I called out "skeet, skeet, skeet, skeet, skeet!" Seriously, if you get that joke then you listen to some really bad music...as bad as I occasionally listen to, apparently.

I'm kidding, by the way. I didn't yell "skeet, skeet, skeet..." at the would-be cheerleaders. They've gotta eat too. So more power to 'em. I hope they all made the team, and I hope they inspire better than 1-and-15 next season.

Anywho, we had dinner Saturday night with old friends from Milwaukee, plus one of their friends from here in South Florida. A local TV reporter, who used to work in Milwaukee also, and with whom I'm acquainted (but not friends), was supposed to join our group. But he was a no show. He didn't even call to say he was bailing on us. He is friends with the woman who organized the dinner. Tsk, tsk, TV reporters. This is why you should read your local newspaper and/or your newspaper's Web site. We're always on time. I admit I'm biased, 'cause we're a better, more thorough news source. Plus, pre-Mrs. B, I dated a couple of TV reporters back in the Midwest. They never knew how to turn off the "personality." Every conversation was like the 5 o'clock news had just started. And that makeup - the kind that's powerful enough to resist the hot lights on the set? - is toxic. I swear it ate a hole in one of my shirt collars once. Or maybe I'm just exaggerating that part 'cause I'm pro newspaper and local TV news bites.

We ate Thai. And I fell for the crispy duck...again. I order it repeatedly, because I hope one day it will actually be crispy. Once again though, I had the soggy duck...which sort of got crispy as it got colder.

Sunday I spent the afternoon scooping a fresh batch of tadpoles out of my koi pond. I got about 1,000 of 'em out before I tired of that exercise. It's not very nice to look at, but if I'm gonna prevent this from happening all summer, I may have to resort to putting a net over the pond to keep the mating toads out. Last time I broke out the net it inadvertently became a toad trampoline. I don't know if they couldn't see it, or if they just thought it would go away if they jumped on it enough, but it was a pretty funny sight - these giant toads hitting the top of that taut net and bouncing a foot higher than normal.

And Sunday evening I did homework, looking around for story ideas, hints of trends, and taking the race quiz at artist Faith Ringgold's Web site.

Quick takes on the news:

• Barack Obama messed up with his assessment that blue collar and rural folk are so bitter over the bad economy that they've turned for solace to their guns and religion. I'm no fan of Sen. Clinton. Actually, I'm no fan of any of the candidates, at least in terms of political positions. But even if she wasn't being sincere in her criticism of Obama, she was right about his comments sounding elitist. People don't go hunting, because they're bitter...unless they're Michael Douglas in Falling Down. Average hunters go, because they enjoy the sport. And while some bitter people may embrace religion in search for some kind of redemption, the average practicing religious person embraces their faith simply 'cause they believe it, it helps sustain them through good and bad times, and they like it. It makes 'em feel good.
• The current issue of Details magazine has a story about this year being the 20th anniversary of The Real World on MTV. Hard to believe that show is almost of legal drinking age. Even harder to believe they still call it "Real." I admit I was hooked on that first New York season, the one with Julie, the country girl, Eric Neis, the model dude, and Kevin Powell, the poet/writer dude, and those other people. I was a fan till I met Powell. He came to speak at my college in my junior year, and the Student Activities director asked me to shuttle him around and what not. So I did. I drove him to/from the airport, etc. And Powell, a couple of other folks, and I ended up out for dinner and drinks after his speech. The abbreviated version is he treated us like no 'count punks who should have been grateful to be in his presence. Not cool. First impressions, ya know?
• Dr. Phil is half a step away from becoming Jerry Springer.

Quick Hits for the Holiday Weekend

*This is Andy, healthy Andy. I had to hold her firmly for the pic, 'cause she's normally bouncing off of walls.


This is sick, exhausted Andy, after spending two days at the animal hospital battling an inexplicable infection and costing me a grand (can you believe that? I think the Bentley I saw in the parking lot must have belonged to the veterinarian). I'm not one of those animal nuts who dresses his pets up in clothes that match his own. And the truth is, prior to Andy I didn't even like cats. I thought they were curse-carrying, spooky creatures. But since I am fond of her, even though she occasionally scratches, think a good thought for her as she recovers at home. And wish her a happy belated birthday. She turned 1 last week.


**Moving right along. Guys what do you see in this picture? A perfect manicure, that's what! No shame in it and nothing feminine about it. My grandfather, James Sr., used to get the nails hooked up and the shoes shined every week. He took a bullet and grenade shrapnel in WWII. Pretty manly. Fellas, it's imperative that we keep the nails and cuticles fit. We don't want them looking like we tried to dig a hole in the sidewalk using our fingers. I have griped about women with mangled toes, squeezed like bunion biscuits into too-tiny shoes. It's only fair that we keep our hands right. What's good for the goose...And Big Daddy, before you say anything, there's no dirt under these nails, in spite of the shadowing.


***I'm in the media, and though I may have a bias in favor of us news folk, I've never fully bought into the political (liberal/conservative) conspiracy hype. I think good journalists report the facts. That being said, media includes more than news people. It includes entertainment magazines and TV shows too, for example. With them, I have no doubts that sometimes there is an agenda. By comparison to MTV's target audience member I'm an old man. Nevertheless, Wednesday night I watched the reunion special for the recently concluded "Real World: Denver." Relatively early in the show, one of the cast members a young black man named Stephen, was taken to task for not being more open-minded about another cast member, Davis's homosexuality. Stephen was scolded for not having learned anything new during the show about gay people, or at least not enough new stuff to help keep himself from being prejudiced against them. But Davis, who in a drunken fit on an early episode of the show referred to black cast mate Tyree as "some nigger" who "wants to kill me," wasn't asked if he'd learned to suppress or overcome his prejudice. Hmmm, agenda MTV? Neither the incident nor the slur were brought up during that reunion special. Nah, MTV would never have an agenda. It's all in my imagination.

****Finally Memorial Day. I have no profound words, only profound respect for any man or woman who ever volunteered for military service. It's not about liking or disliking war, or supporting or not supporting war. Setting politics aside, you have to have a deep love for your country and what you believe it stands for in order to willingly put yourself in the line of fire. To all the families who have lost loved ones in service, may your memories this holiday weekend be fond, peaceful, and pleasant.