I'd Love to Be Bi!

So we had the convergence of our country's leaders descend upon The Capitol in order to fulfill the Constitution's requirement that our Fearless Leader report the State of our Union. This is used by all Presidents to "set the table."

Great. So much for Government class. Am I going somewhere with this?

Here's the deal. The problem. The Straight Dope.

Does it matter?

Really? Couldn't we simply just skip the exercise? Especially now? We've got a majority party in Congress that rises and applauds their guy when he tosses them red meat, whilst the minority sits on their hands. And mostly, that's how it goes. And has gone, for years.

Full disclosure, I voted for Obama. I lean to the political left. But I also voted for George H.W. Bush and Robert Dole instead of Mr. Clinton. I am against abortion, it's murder. I am for expanding healthcare, it's morally right. I am against gay marriage. I am for civil unions. I am against creating more and more debt. I am for finding a way to create jobs in this country for the people who live and work here - and if the Fed can help, so be it. I won't pretend to understand any of the proposed solutions.

Again, as the song goes, "so F-in what?"

Just wanted to briefly sum up my biases.

I think that if Mr. Obama had spoken last night, and spouted the ENTIRE Republican line, the governor of Virginia and the talking heads on the right would've denounced nearly every word he said. He didn't do that, of course. By comparison, had a Republican President spouted the Democrats' party line, the Democrats would've condemned in just the same manner.

The system rewards doing nothing. And, it's done so for years. There is no trust between the people who run our government. And we, the electorate, place no pressure whatsoever upon these elected officials to actually accomplish anything. We shirk the responsibilities of self-government and boil them down to sound bites and opinion talk shows. We reward and seemingly admire men and women who are "firm and resolute" in their opinions, while forgetting the adage that "he (or she) who knows nothing, doubts nothing." The system is geared towards what, nearly 20 years ago, was called "the constant campaign." Clinton tried and failed with healthcare. Bush tried and failed with Social Security. Obama is trying now with several issues.

In order to actually work, the system requires bravery, and trust. It is far too easy for me to sit behind my little Mac keyboard and babble about how things should be, like somehow I'd be the virtuous Mr. Smith. I don't begin to comprehend the pressure these elected folks are under. To some extent, every one of them is wealthy, and every one is bought and paid for by some special interest. In such a situation, intellectual independence is nearly nonexistent. The politician must take the money to get elected. And, once elected, they must re-pay their benefactors. If you lie down with dogs, you catch fleas.

Anyway, I did like one theme that the President touched upon, and that was America leading the world. In order to do that, we the people must look past red and blue states and find some common ground. Common ground does not mean "caving," it simply means forging agreements. As odious as some may find it, cutting a deal is what a coalition government is all about. If you'd prefer imposing your will, perhaps you'd like to vote for an Emperor, a Pharaoh, or some other such big-high falutin' muckety muck. Lemme know who it works out.

Stay safe out there.

El Corazon and La Cabeza

Let me begin today's entry with a small plug for my family's favorite new show, "Community," which is on your local NBC affiliate at 8 on Thursdays. A funny show. Not perfect, but it manages to make Chevy Chase funny again, which is not to be...um...laughed at. Carol and I usually find the above-referenced Senor Chang particularly funny (plus, he was the Chinese dude in "The Hangover", and in real life he is a medical doctor).

Enjoy, if you choose.

Onward. I think we've just about achieved resolution fulfillment here. The boy has been accident-free for about two weeks now, and only wears pull-ups when he sleeps. I've nearly relaxed enough to want to think about declaring him "the T word" .....but perhaps not just yet. He is only 3, after all. But progress is encouraging.

Sadly, not all here is progress, as I'm ballooning. Fatass is now 15 pounds up from a low last seen in early December - which establishes a direct and irrefutable causal connection between my holiday enjoyment of food and the amount of lard accumulating on my gut. So, back to rabbit food. I can keep up the exercise without too much difficulty. Eating? Fat and grease are apparently my heroin. Sugar, too. Thanks for the cookies and candies, a-holes. Merry Xmas!

Speaking of a-holes, I am the family energy Nazi. This probably finds its' genesis in the fact that I pay the bills at this house and a $400 power bill makes me yearn for whale oil and gaslights. I'm the jerk who turns off every light and delivers withering looks when someone dares to look at the thermostat. Put on a sweater! Get a coat! Burn some furniture!

Anyway, I'm probably the A-Hole. Most who know me would agree.

As the title to this entry demonstrates, I'm thinking of the heart and the head. For me, they almost never work in unison - thus explaining my crazy life. Or, in the parlance of Senor Chang, mi vida loca. I run hot and cold.

As I spent Sunday watching the NFL games, I vascillated wildly. Not so much in the early Colts-Jets game. I mean, who expected a game at all? It was mildly surprising and left me hopeful that the non-Manning lovers out here could be spared a two-week jerking off of Peyton and his family. 'Twas not to be. Again, I reiterate praise for the toughness of Dirty Sanchez and his Jets(which is painful because- to a Patriot fan- the Jets are The Enemy).

Game 2 offered the Favre/Saints dilemna. For me, I had no dog in the race so...why not watch the made-for-Syfy movie instead of football? Because I'm a dummy, that's why. I kinda believe that the Vikings were the better football team last Sunday, except that the entire ballhandling (hee hee!) corps for Minnie-ha-ha decided to grease their palms (that's what she said) and dropped anything resembling a football-shaped object. Favre was a real warrior, though, and absorbed some wince-inducing hits. As for the Saints, they did well enough to win. Brees took some shots, too. I was pulling for the old man. Watching him sit on the sideline, gray of beard and clenched of jaw, you could tell the old lion was pondering whether or not he'd roared his last. We'll see (ugh, this crap again).

So there's one more ballgame, and then I'll not mention football again in this blog till....April? I like the Saints and the whole N'Orleans story (I just took my younger daughter and Jack to see "The Princess Frog" and liked it, screw off - I'm only, like, 5% gay), but it's hard to argue against the Colts. The heart says Saints, the head says Colts. Except that the heart can fool the brain by arguing "Hey, Gregg Williams is a fine defensive coach and could conjure up some voodoo thingie to mess with Asshat Manning's robot brain and steal a win." Or, the heart could say "Indy's defense is swiss cheese."

I think that the Saints could steal a win with old-fashioned NFC East ball control and excellent defense. It's an outdoor game. I also think that the Indy defense could conceivably show up big and shut down the Saints offense and end the game by halftime. What is the sound of 50 million plasma TV's clicking off?

Heart says Saints, brain says Colts.

Someday I'll get to Obama, partisan baloney, and why I'm registering Independent.

Great Success!

The past week has seen unexpected successes in our little family's quest to become diaper-independent. The boy managed to go all weekend without a diaper or pull-up, except for naps or at bedtime. This is no small matter. And, best of all, he seems to be understanding how his body works and an anticipate having to go. This is cool.

It won't last. Setbacks are likely, but I'm hopeful.

Saturday saw the 3rd annual Baltimore Piranhas (rescheduled) winter classic, which was held last weekend instead of in December due to snow. I'd been fortunate enough to have been placed on the teams that won the previous two years, and this year was no different. My teammates were far more skilled than I, and we managed to win another trophy. In between games, I was able to catch some of the NFL playoffs, drink beer, and eat a little. Additionally, my brother and his family from NC were up, and I hear they had a nice time - I didn't have much time to visit.

Peyton Manning is a little bitch.

There, I said it.

I dislike this guy, but not his team. Obviously, the Colts are the class of the NFL right now, and only lost games because they allowed it to happen. We'll see on Sunday. What I HATED about watching the Cleveland Browns/Baltimore Colts matchup Saturday night was how he was dumping the ball off for 4 yard passes to avoid the rush. Meanwhile, guys with guts were hanging in the pocket and risking their lives to push the ball downfield (see: Sanchez, Marc; Rivers, Phillip; and (yes) Romo, Tony).

Instead, Peyton dinked and dunked the Browns/Ravens to death. Made for boring football.

Didn't have the chance to see the Saints game, probably wasn't worth my time anyway.

Back to courage. I think it takes a ton of courage to hold the football and wait for the open receiver, knowing you're gonna get hit hard by a man who wants to hurt you. I've seen Favre do it. Brady, too. And all the other QBs I've mentioned who played this weekend. Manning? Looked like he was afraid to get his skirt dirty.

Anyway, that's today's NFL. People apparently like the Mannings, and passing.

ME?

Sad to say, I kinda like NY Jets football this year. But, as a Patriot fan, this is heresy. Whatever, burn me at the stake. The Jets are shutting down good offenses (well, one good one - Norv, why did you go so conservative on Sunday?) and crushing defenses with the run. I like that.

My kids are all excited about the Saints, as my wife's dad is related to the Shockey family. This means a-hole Jeremy Shockey is their 3rd cousin.

Great. Whatever. Not on my side of the tree.

Anyway, Sunday's games look good on paper but will only be good in practice if the respective defenses show up. Can the Jets hang in? Yeah, if they play "keep away." The Colts? Well, duh. In the NFC it could go either way, Minnesota's defense is better up front but the game is in the Big Easy.

I care not. Just let 'em be good games.

Oh, and it was great to watch the Cowboys lose. I hate the team, but I don't hate Tony Romo.

In case you missed it, there was also some great hockey on in DC this weekend, with the Capitals destroying the Flyers on Sunday. You probably didn't watch. Hockey is SO much better than football, but a Sunday afternoon regular season game isn't as riveting as the NFL's divisional playoffs. Someday I'll babble about how much better hockey is than football. But no one will care.

.....and Pat Robertson and Rush Limbaugh should go and do some work in Haiti - personally. Those two shit stains deserve a month in some prison camp. Or something like that. To open their rather large mouths and vomit out such quasi-hateful garbage a mere matter of days after the devestation there.....makes you wonder.

However, to see people on both sides of the ideological spectrum set this mock-political crap aside and condemn these two fellows statements...well, it gives me hope that all reason has not left the U.S.A.

God bless the folks who are giving up their sweat and blood to help those in need. Come home safe and do good work. It's lame of me to say, as all excuses are lame, but if my kids were older perhaps I'd be lifting boxes of food with 'em.

Sunday, Poopy Sunday

1/12/10 -- I'm half Irish, I have a long memory.

Patriot fans remember this guy?? Good 'ole Pete Carroll. The Fat Tuna bailed on the team prior to the crappy Super Bowl in New Orleans where Fav-rah and his Packers were coronated. So the Krafts hire Pete. The Globe complains that Pete is soft compared to Parcells (isn't every coach not named "Coughlin?"). Disaster ensues, despite inheriting a fairly good football team. For me, the memorable moment from Pete's turn as Pats coach was Shannon Sharpe of the Broncos on the phone, calling for the Army, the Marines, the National Guard - "somebody show up and help because we are KILLING the Patriots."

Godspeed, Seattle fans. There's always the hope that he learned how to coach an NFL team whilst he was at USC. And, admittedly, he has been a fine collegiate coach.

FAILURE is the word of the day.

First of all, Jack insured the weekend was urine-soaked (isn't that the very definition of a good weekend, at a certain point in life?) and there was poop. This was the backdrop to a stunning weekend of NFL action that left me, in point of fact, feeling crappy.

Saw "Up in the Air" on Friday night and suggest to anyone reading this (though I have no

"followers" and shall not take this personally or as a referendum upon my poor writing skills) that you do the same. A movie for grownups with brains is rare these days, as "we" seem to prefer spectacles of CGI delirium (but, "avatar" was good). A nice night, that Friday night.

Saturday began at 5:30 with a decision: to take one child to hockey far away or two children to skate close by. I took the 2, one of whom is my 3-yr. old potty trainee. I get Camille on the ice in full hockey gear (no easy feat) and Jack announces he's wet. Oops. And who neglected to bring a change? Yup.

So he remained wet until I could get him home from his skating lessons.

piss freezes, if you were curious

Yes, I already have broken my resolution. I yelled, punched the truck, and he collapsed in a conciliatory heap in the freezing cold as I ranted. So........sigh......back to the drawing board.

Saturday was littered with urine. I think he wet two more outfits when he forgot to use the potty. Again, he was upset, so the parental shaming was minimal.

Sunday I think he went through 3 outfits. Sometime during the 4th quarter of the Ravens-Pats game he trundled upstairs and said "I'm poopy." Inspiration - in the form of the title to this entry - was immediate. Yuck.

Which brings me to football. I hate the Dallas Cowboys as a football team, not as people. I know the Cowboy fans are happy and they deserve to be. So, too, do fans of the Jets, Ravens, and Cardinals (are you like me? Aren't Cardinal games great? You never know if you'll get 0 points or 1, 000. Kind of cool).

I, sadly, am a Patriot fan.

Pats fans are often also Red Sox fans, and longtime Pats fans know that yesterday's spanking by the now-superior Ravens is business as you remember it. That team that won 3 titles? Those weren't the Patriots. Brady morphed into Steve Grogan. Laurence Maroney was ......????? Gone. There was no Andre Tippett. The Patriots weren't any good. Did I ever mention that I was the only kid in Lisbon Elementary school (in Lisbon, Md.) with a Patriots sweatshirt? No? I was rountinely made fun of (my grandma was a native of Worcester, Mass.). The Pats were LOSERS.

The Pats teams from 2001 to 2006 were smashmouth teams that ran first and punished with defense. Those 2007-8 Pats? Pretty boys. Scored tons of points. But they were soft, like the Rams in 2001. The Giants punched out their teeth in the 2008 Super Bowl and they were exposed as such. All those points and all that flash 'n dash was a one-year anomaly for them. ANOMALIES FAIL. The Super Bowl Pats, if you recall, were scrappy little teams who squeaked out wins against St. Louis, Carolina, and Philly. Brady was a scrappy QB. Now he's Peyton Manning Lite.

Maybe, Pats fans, they'll pull it together next year. At least they have a good coach and QB, if he can stay healthy.

Eat one, Peyton.

I dislike the Colts (like I do the Ravens) for moving from Baltimore to Indianapolis. But I really dislike Golden Boy Manning. Too much polish. Too ready for prime time and the cameras. I prefer the vinegary Phillip Rivers, and his cannon of an arm. Plus (and this is very gay to say) I like lightning bolts. As a kid, I had football wallpaper and always dug the bolts. This coincided with my being about 10, and enjoying AC/DC's music, Dan Fouts' on-field exploits, and Metallica's "Ride the Lightning."

That does sound very gay. Whatever. I'm, like, 10 percent gay. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

So my weekend ended with a hockey game that began before the Cardinals game ended. So I missed the shootout. I wish NFL playoffs were like the NHL or baseball, where there's a best-of-series. I could've watched Pittsburgh and Arizona play a three game set. Same with Green Bay and Arizona. Perhaps Arizona and anyone, right now. They're more fun than the sucky Ravens (really, Joe Flacco? 31 yards???) or (ugh) Cowboys (I refuse to mention the word "Redskins" in this blog until August).

So....

my team lost a playoff game. My kid was practically incontinent for the entire weekend. I was up early both days. The silver lining?

IT CAN'T RAIN ALL THE TIME.

A new decade, why not?

My big goal for the upcoming year is a really simple one: to train a 3 year old boy to use a toilet. I have three older kids, so in theory this should not be a significant undertaking. I'm speaking, specifically, of the kid in the picture above.

But, as anyone who has multiple children will tell you, they're all different.

Cute, right? Looks a little like Calvin when he's well-groomed in the old comic strip (I'm dating myself, but screw you younger folks who missed out on "Calvin and Hobbes", I'm sorry newspapers suck these days...). The picture is, naturally, a lie. Cuteness is a survival mechanism designed to avoid death or dismemberment. Some tigers, as we learned in "Caddyshack", eat their young. Cuteness helps distract fathers from having 4th of July barbecues where roasted child is on the menu.

So, that's the big goal for this year. That, and his alphabet and some numbers. Along the journey for the next 360 days I suppose he should be read to, and fed, and cleaned up after, and patiently taught right from wrong (at least, in its' simplest sense). I need to teach him to skate (he starts lessons this weekend) and to root for some teams and against others. Hell, I may even put him on a surfboard this summer.

As I've said before, I'm getting close to 40, which would mark 4 decades of my existence on this plane- and, well, what have I to show for it? Shut up with the kid thing, please, that's easy. They were a joy to bring into the world and a pain to keep here. In my nearly 4 decades I've switched careers many times, I've lied, cheated, stolen, coveted, worshipped the wrong gods, etc etc. (though I haven't killed anything, so there's that in the plus column). I think I've learned but one thing: if you want to see a liar or a cheater or a thief, just look at the person closest to you in the grocery checkout. I also think I've learned that that's the point of my Catholic faith, and that - despite the failings of every human being, we forgive and we seek forgiveness - and then try our best to move on. I've made and lost friends in the process. Perhaps at the very least I can hope that I've learned from my mistakes. I apologize for the preaching.

And....mistakes are what it's all about. This cute little guy at the top of this page is gonna make plenty. And I'll have to mop up after him and pat him on the head and encourage him to try again (or else....what? Explode spontaneously??). I know I'll blow it and lose my patience at least 500 times, but I guess - like him - I'll try again.

How else will I ever learn anything?