Grey Ghost
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Friday, August 25, 2006
  Survivor
Media's great for finding a way to draw attention to themselves, whether it's embedded journalists, contrived celebrity romances, or injecting social issues into a story line. They can plausibly defend an altruistic motive for any them, but at the end of the day the goal's always the same. "Psst, Hey, John Q. Public, I need you to look over here, just one more time."

Survivor can suggest they want to explore every aspect of the human dynamic as it plays out in the forum of their show. Really, they're just doing it for the publicity, and give them credit for that because it worked. Ask yourselves this, What wouldn't a television producer do to keep his franchise alive? Do you think Janet Jackson's nipple pops out because it wants to? It popped out because it was told to.

Me? I don't care. I think it raises lots of fun questions. What if they make the immunity challenges racially stereotyped? How about if they make the reward challenge rewards racially stereotyped? What if Probst slips? "The crackers win immunity". Then you might have an issue. Unfortunately, you can't hardly make a joke about any of that without offending someone or being labeled racist. The problem is racial jokes in the wrong hands are, well, racist. Racists screw everything up for everybody.

I think back to that classic Saturday Night Live skit with Richard Pryor and Chevy Chase. Chase is conducting a job interview with Pryor using a word association that becomes increasingly racially charged. I wonder if any one would have the stones today to run it like it that today.
 
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
  USA Basketball
I think I'm like the rest of Basketball1:14 PM
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
  Just Noticed
I see I'm selling as many testosterone pills as I did bean bags. One thing's for certain. Floyd Landis, Marion Jones, and Barry Bonds have not stopped by my blog. And if they did I'm prepared to testify on their behalf that they have not purchased a bean bag.

By the way testosterone pills appear to be the second actual product this blog has attempted to sell. Testosterone pills and bean bags. Great!! I'm an online head shop. What's next? Beads and black light posters? No Adsense, Don't!!!
 
Wednesday, August 16, 2006
  Back to School
I don't have a kid left in elementary school. Subsequently, I no longer enjoy a cheery familiarity with any of my kids teachers. These days I only stop in at the middle school or the high school, or, as I like to call them, the factories.

Elementary school's the last place you get any semblance of a one on one feel in education. Your teacher knows you and your kid. You get to meet face to face with the teacher. Possibly, an administrator or two knows who you are. Other teachers know your kid. It's the last concierge level in education.

Now we ship them off to the factory. The factory jackhammers the education into them. You bring them home. Inspect them for defects. Send them back to the factory. Like a Buick. Most times any defect is the fault of the Buick, in which case you smack the Buick, like you would a real Buick. Follow?

From 6th grade on your kids got 6 or 7 teachers. Your lucky if half of them learn your kid's name by Thanksgiving. If an administrator knows you or your kid, it's a bad thing. Basically, the goal at this point is for parents, teachers, and administrators to never see each other again. If you do bump into one of them, it's uncomfortable. Sort of like an ex-girlfriend.

I miss the familiarity. I know I'll never get it back. I do, however, have a plan. This week starts the open house season. At the factories it's a cattle call. They herd parents from room to room where they get approximately 11 minutes to hear a 10 minute & 45 second dog & pony from each of your kids' teachers. Then you go home. That's it. It's like a peep show without the $1 tips.

There's little to accomplish in those 11 minutes. First, you focus on the teacher and try to pick up clues to their background. Focus on terms like medicinal, micro-anything, and insert your term here. Then you scan the room and take inventory of the other parents. Now you'll make a mental note to lock your car more frequently, apply for a concealed weapon permit, and to watch this week's episode of America's Most Wanted. Outside of that, little productive value occurs.

That is until now. This year I'll be introducing what I like to call, this year's plan. Nothing's really required of you as a parent during those 11 minutes except to sit there quietly. Sure, some people manage to interject their personality. There's always the Happy Affirmative sitting there cluelessly shaking their head yes while smiling from ear to ear. In the business world we call this a kiss ass. If the teacher screws up, and only runs their presentation to 9 minutes, there's always an available supply of idiots to burn those last 2 minutes with stupid questions. Idiots always rise to fill the void of any useful time. The idiots and the affirmatives have at least succeeded in using those 11 minutes to make themselves memorable.

That's the goal of this year's plan, to make myself memorable, and, perhaps, notorious. The plan is to do something obsessive/compulsive for 11 minutes straight. Not weird-hyper ocd like a squirrel examining and burying a nut, but scary ocd. Make your eye twitch, or slowly and deliberately scratch your armpit. Anything that resembles a suppression technique and hints at a closet full of insanity.

What will this accomplish? Maybe nothing. However, it might give your kid's particular class in that particular period benefit of the doubt/tie goes to the runner status through the end of the year. Say your kid's on the bubble for a grade. The teacher knows one thing. 4th period is where Twitch or Armpit Guy is. They don't want a conference with them. Guess which way the grade falls off the bubble.

Some may take exception to this approach. The system has rendered me anonymous. I have acted to shade that anonymity. They don't need to know who I am. They just need to know I'm out there.
 
Monday, August 14, 2006
  This Week in Middle Age
The Rolling Stones
Suffered a cancellation in Spain when Mick Jagger's voice gave out. So let's see on this tour they've been plagued by doctor prescribed rest, fell and hit head, and walks with limp. Wait that last one's me.

Sylvester Stallone & Chuck Wepner
Settled a lawsuit for undisclosed terms in which Wepner, known as the Bayonne Bleeder, claimed to be the real life inspiration for Rocky Balboa. I don't have a joke here other than to note "Bayonne Bleeder" has to be one of the worst nicknames of all time.

Junior Seau
Retired from the NFL. Now that you're retired, how about a grown up name? How about Fred? Fred Seau? That sounds like you're retired.
 
Monday, August 07, 2006
  Another Grey on the Ghost
My oldest got his regular driver license last week, and I'm another day older. Milestones rarely get me. Birthdays & anniversaries skip by me leaving nary a mark on the old psyche. Last year, though, sitting in the waiting area of the Department of Motor Vehicles, I had the "life flashing before your eyes" moment. A year later, I didn't do much better.

They've got a little schtick down at the driver's license place. They ask, "Are you ready Dad?". My first thought as to a response was to ask for clarification, "Am I ready for the expense, the fear, or to face my own mortality?". Second, I thought perhaps I had an option to answer truthfully in the negative with, "No, I'm not ready. I would like to exercise my perogative to stop or reverse time, and prevent this intemperate act from occurring." In the end, I came back with the standard weary, "Yes."

The wife and I are doing pretty good every time he leaves if pretty good means dimming the lights, holding our knees close to our chests, and waiting quietly until he returns. Friends say this will pass, and we will come to enjoy this new found freedom in middle age. I'll have to trust them, but it does sound good. Of course, like every creature comfort at this age it comes at a price. By price in this instance I don't mean some rhetorical price, I mean a dollar price. Those who have gone before know. Those whose time awaits, don't ask.

All in all he appears to be a careful driver. I could be doing a lot worse. It's not his driving so much that scares me. It's those classic teenage moments when he asks a question so thoughtless & inane that you look at him to see if he's suddenly gone cross eyed. "No son, ice cream has no bones.'"It's at those moments you question the wisdom of entrusting him with a vehicle.

The Ghost plods on.
 
Friday, August 04, 2006
  One Media, 3 Sports
Mel Gibson
My question is, was the cop Jewish? If it is then Mel can defend himself with, "I'm a Jekyll & Hyde drunk. I've got a problem, and I lashed out at what was available to my distorted mind. I'm sorry, and I didn't mean any of that."
If he wasn't Jewish, then Mel's a drunk and anti-semitic.
All in all, pretty ironic from Hollywood's religious guy. Too, an interesting tact in getting out of a ticket. I've never seen the angry rant be too successful with law enforcement. Maybe it works better in California.

Floyd Landis
Gets his results at 5 in the morning Saturday. If he's awake, maybe I believe him. If he sleeps in, it's because he knows the result. Either way, I'm rooting for him only so I can make use of the elevated testosterone defense. I'm seeing me blaming a lot of randy behavior on the elevated testoserone. Besides, it sounds way more fun than an angry rant.
Good Luck, Floyd.

Chase Utley
I'm not sure if I'm rooting for him or against sportswriters. For 60 years there's been no down side to predicting someone's not going to get Dimaggio's record. It doesn't make you some insightful wizard to say it. That, and journalism's tendency to revel in people's failures has me in a Phillies cap. Go Chase.

USA Basketball
So far so good, all though the '04 Olympic squad won their first game impressively. That said, the biggest difference is the pressure defense. In '04 I about had a stroke every time a point guard walked it up the floor unchallenged. It looks like we have a coach that understands the inherent advantage of being 12 deep with superior athletes. Goodbye Larry. The other question I had that summer that's been answered now, what does Richard Jefferson give you that you don't get from Lebron? No offense Richard.
 
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
  The Paris Hilton
I saw this quote in the July 31st issue of Time Magazine:

"Every decade has an iconic blonde like Marilyn Monroe or Princess Diana, and right now I'm that icon."
-Paris Hilton, socialite & heiress, on her place in society

You are an icon all right honey. There's no denying that. However, you're an icon more along the lines of a Linda Lovelace or a Monica Lewinsky.
Normally, I would not give a crap what Paris Hilton is up to. This comment though was too easy not to take a shot at. Can someone straighten her out soon? Is she not on overtime for her 15 minutes?
She appears to have no redeeming skill, aside from the one that thrust her into the public eye to begin with, than striking the same stupid pose in front of every camera she sees. Normally, I defend children of inheritances. It's not their fault or decision that they were born into a life of opulence. They deserve judgment based on the strength of character alone, just like any one of us should.
Well Paris, it's judgment time...You're an idiot. I think saw parts of 2 or 3 episodes of her reality series. My thoughts coming away from it was, "No wonder the Muslims hate us."
And Time, next time you quote her, instead of identifying her as "socialite & heiress", why not identify her has "vapid twit & skank". At least she earned those.
 
EMail... Personal Observations on Sports, Media, and Life ,from the Grey Ghost, a Guy's Guy Now Slogging Through Middle Age

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