NFL and no fun

Tomorrow is the first pre-season game for your (my) Washington Redskins. I've been a huge fan of the 'Skins and football since about 5th grade. I also pull for your New England Patriots. But, like a lot of you, I really enjoy the sport of (American) football and look forward to it about this time every year. Let's face it: I'm 38, married with kids....balding, thickening, and aging....what else is there (besides the inevitable blissful sleep known as death) to look forward to?

Loving football, however, doesn't mean I love everything about it. I don't love the "NFL brand." I don't like theme songs playing all the damned time. I don't like 101 commercials. I don't like pre-game shows that are longer than an hour.

Don't really LOVE the fantasy football thing, it's fun and I partake but it's become such a.....BIG DEAL...that it kinda sucks. Guys take trips to Vegas just to "do" a draft (umm....ok, yeah there's jealousy involved on that count), chicks play it (girls mess up EVERYTHING), and radio DJ's babble endlessly about it. Meh. It's OK but getting lamer all the time.

Kidding aside, I truly dislike the announcers and color guys who call these games on TV. Don't get me wrong, some of them are great (Jaworski clearly knows the sport, but Gruden delivers oral lovin' upon the players...it's embarrassing).

I really hate the warfare metaphors and similes. Folks, I'm climbing on the soapbox. We send boys to foreign lands to fight wars. Those kids face death and madness every day. And yet, ALL of our elected leaders would allow us (and encourage us) to ignore all that - sacrifice nothing - and worry over Fat Albert Hayneworth's conditioning ("see what condition my condition's iiiiin") problems or Lindsay "milk-a-what?" Lohan's problems. I think they like us nice and placid, ignoring the horrors out there. We could have war bonds, a draft, etc etc etc.

Hell, these "gridiron gladiators" should be cutting a nice 50% of their take home pay and giving it to the poor kids who're coming home in pieces - mentally or physically. This country - you and me- we chew these kids up and spit them out, then get new ones to chew.

OK, I think the NFL can do that to kids too. It's a dangerous game and there are too many kids who go for the bucks and glory and don't make it. But they're not coming home without arms or legs, or with a head full of scrambled eggs.

Ahem. Climbing off the self-righteous soapbox now. Sermon over. Moving on, it's vacation time and that means 2 weeks of sun and surf. [and perhaps this is what we all truly do, when one's family is blessed not to have a member overseas in some wretched part of the world risking life and limb, we all just accept it and try our best to move forward, keep living]

Before I go on that great trip, and before my 'Skins play a game, here's my 1st ever NFL prognostications for 2010-11. I base this on very little knowledge and very much Gut.

NFC East:

1- Dallas: it pains me. Yeah, they look to be the best team in the division.

2-NY Giants: could surprise the Cowboys, but probably not.

3-Washington: I think McNabb has some left in the tank, and the defense might be really good. But it's probably 18 years without a title and counting. Even if I'm wrong, they'll be better than last year.

4- Philly: MAYBE. They could be 3rd if DC goes belly-up like usual.

NFC North:

1-Green Bay: yup, Aaron Rogers.

2-Minnesota: nope, no Favre

3- Chicago: a better season than 2009-10, but they overpaid in free agency.

4- Detroit: I really would like to see the Lions have a GREAT season. Not yet.

NFC South

1- Saints. Period. But could hit that post-champ malaise

2-Falcons: they'll challenge New Orleans this year, Mattie Ryan rebounds a little from last year.

3-Carolina: running in a passing league....nope

4- Tampa: whatever.

NFC West

1-San Francisco: If Alex Smith can complete a few passes, Gore can run and the D is improved.

2-Arizona: maybe. If Leinart comes in and plays well.

3-St. Louis: they will improve

4- Seattle: not this year.

AFC East

1-Jets: Another painful pick. I love me them Patriots, but the Jets look pretty loaded.

2-Pats: a shaky end to last season inspires some god-darned greatness

3-Dolphins: soon.

4- Bills: good for little more than snow games

AFC North

1-Baltimore: the Ravens have been doing good things for 11 years. Same this year.

2-Cincinnati: they weren't a total fluke last year, might challenge for a division title

3-Pittsburgh: rapist QB = A lost season in Pittsburgh. Ben will play well when he's on the field.

4-Cleveland: I pull for the Browns, like I do the Lions....why not?

AFC South

1-Tennessee: my big upset pick. Vince Young shows up to play and a solid team takes a division

2- Colts: don't like Messr. Manning. Hope I'm right

3-Texans: Maybe. Good QB and WR, but....

4-Jaguars: Hi, we're the London Jags, sod off!

AFC West

1-Denver: When San Diego slips, as they're gonna, the Broncos are ready

2- Chargers: before pride cometh the fall

3-Chiefs: improved but still bad

4-Raiders: for the sake of their fans, hopefully they improve. Campbell isn't a bad start.

That's it. I won't attempt to break down records and stuff. I think we'll see Dallas and Green Bay play for the NFC title and then Baltimore and the Jets play in the AFC.

Or, I'm completely wrong and know nothing and am therefore dumber than a block of wood. Who cares? It'll be fun to watch.

More than is to be meeting the eye

OK, this'll be a complete and totally geeky entry...

I guess around 6th or 7th grade a kid named Cooper who played 2nd base on my baseball team had an awesome looking toy car that transformed into a robot. I recall the toys way before I ever saw the show. I was waaay too old to be hanging around playing with toys but for whatever reason (interactivity, coolness, arrested development) I got into it. I think my kid brother brought home one that was a red Lamborghini, and it also helped that one of my second cousins about my age bought some, too. Anyway, I was a Transformers fan, despite being 11 or 12 years old (and older, I'll admit).

Of course, lots of us recall the show. I got into it. I really did. The great leader Optimus Prime who talked like John Wayne and his loyal noble Autobot followers juxtaposed with the malevolently brilliant Megatron and the power-mad Decepticons.... plus cool theme songs and all that Japanimation. Again, they all changed into cool cars or jets or (for a time) guns. Every episode consisted of both factions at their secret base planning stuff....fights ensue wherein miraculously NO ONE AND NOTHING is killed or seriously injured...and the show ended with some character making a "joke" and everyone laughs....end scene.

It was something I never would talk about at school, my classmates seemed to have moved away from childish pleasures and were interested in girls and looking cool for their benefit. I had this huge crush on the aforementioned Cooper's older sister - it was, like most of my crushes - unspoken --- but I suppose it was a way to connect with my younger siblings and (I'm guessing here) indulge the kid in me that didn't want to grow up. I watched it just about every day with them (and the other junk that was on-air: GI Joe, Thundercats, whatever) and at the time I thought it was ....really cool. Anti-climactic I know.

I recall hanging with the show (and to an extent the toys) till I got my first job. Something about working 10 - 12 hours in the summer heat left me uninterested with kids' toys. Oh, and I guess it also helped that I fell into a relationship with a young lady and my attentions were drawn elsewhere. Yeah, I know they'd made a movie at some point, but I didn't go see it.

I only had a few, and the few I had I kept. No real reason. Perhaps I liked the cars, still. In any case they sat at my mom and dad's house for a decade and then-some. As we know these days, the Transformers franchise is a money-printing endeavor. The movies, the toys, the games, some decent comics, Megan Fox, blah blah blah.

Hooray for Hasbro. Really, bravo. The movies were OK. Not great, kinda awful in spots, and I didn't care for the fact that the robots were practically indistinguishable. (yes, I know how dumb I sound).

But along the way, my kids picked up the old toys I had and read the old comics and (now) are playing the latest game and watch DVDs of the old show and...well.....it's kinda cool. I'm not exactly sure why.

Just today, my sons (10 and 4) are sitting on our floor playing with toys my brothers and I had nearly 25 years ago. Of course, they've also got some of the newer versions of the old stuff but by my count there's something like 10 "old hands" that were there when I was a grade-schooler. I'm not exactly sure why that's cool. Perhaps it's akin to the closing of Toy Story 3, where the older kid realizes his stuff is in good hands and he's happy to see that his childhood possessions are going to be played with all over again with young imaginations.

And, I guess that's what it evokes, watching my 4-year old son push a tractor-trailer around on the floor and (loudly) stating "roll out"). Sometimes history repeats itself.

If I wasn't a bastard, I'd think about tearing up.

Cannibalism, and the Prison-based model, Rehabilitation or Retribution?

As better bloggers than myself have written, "what the hell is Grimace?" See, for example, the guy at popcultureaddict.com.

I, as others before, have pondered that question and was doing so yesterday while sipping a cool Pepsi from an old McDonaldland glass -- with Grimace on it. You know Grimace, right? Big purple....thing. Perhaps it was the heat of the day baking my brains, or the lead in the old drinking glass taking affect, or brain cancer....or simply the by-product of an idle mind. Grimace graces a couple glasses and I have a bobblehead of him in my kitchen. Me am dumb, I know.

OK, I looked it up.

When I was a kid and watched TV McDonald's had their great ad campaigns for kids featuring McDonaldland, and Grimace was Ronald's purple pal, a kind of pear-shaped purple thing-a-ma-jiggie who liked to waddle around with a shake and would talk like Lenny from "Of Mice an Men", like "duuuuuh, McDonald's is good." He was purple, loveable, and harmless.

[As an aside, I realize why Mickey D's lost Grimace over time, as more and more of us are starting to LOOK like Grimace it's less of a happy cartoon and more of a true-life story. That, and of course the McDonaldland commercials were whacked. Why would Mayor McCheese eat a burger? ]

But, like everything comfortable in life (and Grimace does indeed look comfortable) there was a dark past I knew nothing about. {I got all this from popcultureaddict and Wikipedia, not exactly Black's Law Dictionary} Grimace was conceived as a character who would push the wonderful line of McDonald's shakes. In doing so, he was a villain who would steal all the shakes and sodas at McDonalds and thus ruin all of the kids' fun. Go ahead, hit YouTube and type in a search for Evil Grimace. It's bad video, as it's old. He had 6 arms and talked like a simpleton, but he was an evil kleptomaniac who destroyed children's enjoyment of fast food by stealing their sodas - which he'd take back to his cave.

Some time later, 4 arms were removed and the "evil" moniker was lost in favor of just plain old happy and dumb Grimace. Was it- as some suggest- a lobotomy and multiple limb amputation? Perhaps. Or - my favorite theory - some weird Taliban/McDonald's behavioral torture ("I'll take one of your 6 arms off if you don't quit stealing shakes you fat purple f&ck!" Grimace holds out, like Jack Bauer, but finally is "rehabilitated."). Or...as is most likely, he's the result of some lawsuit between McDonald's and the Kroft brothers, and McDonald's lost.

Whatever the case, Grimace was never evil again. He became GOOD.

I like to think that in this case, the system worked, and that people, even purple blobs, can be rehabilitated. Sure, he had 6 arms and liked shakes....who doesn't like shakes? Maybe he re-assimilated the other 4 arms when he realized that he didn't need so many arms to steal them with. One morning, Grimace woke up and looked in the mirror and saw a former milkshake thief and said, out loud, "I'll never steal again." He took it a day at a time, and effectuated true change. It's easy to scoff. We tend to like to lock our problems away and produce large labels in large letters to BRAND people with. Yet, we talk out of both sides of our mouths. A six-month sentence, a 6 year sentence, or six life sentences - when you come out on the other side you're considered a CRIMINAL. Yeah, there are some people who won't hire you or talk with you. It's uncomfortable I guess.

I've seen it, I was a lawyer and did some criminal practice. People are treated like they've got a disease, like lepers.

The truth is that most ex-cons made (like all of us) some pretty bad decisions that landed them in prison. Some of us might not have made the same bad decisions, and some of us are just lucky to have never been put in the position to have to make those bad decisions in the first place. It's not just brains, or breeding. Sometimes it's only a matter of stupid-ass luck.

But, after the sentences are served and the halfway houses completed, the guys and gals who look themselves in the mirror and reconcile who they want to be with who they are -they seem to do OK. Our country spends alot of time and money putting people in jail, with the hopes that time in prison will "fix" the person's problem. And, as has been widely reported - our system fails miserably, with recidivism rates that are larger than anyone would like to see or believe to be true.

As usual, in the end, I'm a softy. I want to believe people can be redeemed and rehabilitated. I do indeed believe in second and third and fourth chances for anyone and everyone. Call me pretentious or naiive or just plain dumb.

Duuuuuhhh.....I like milkshakes too!

All in all....

Our weekend began about Thursday last week, with the arrival of my brother and his family from North Carolina. Usually, this puts matters in a state of higgeldy-piggeldy for a number of days, as my mother will call to get all the kids together and hilarity - some of it extremely dysfunctional - ensues.

In some ways, the weekend that was was no different. In other ways, it was a nice departure from the norm.

Thursday evening my mom dropped by with my 2 nieces and nephew in tow, on her way to the movies. Somehow, the 6 of us joined in the fun and dropped the older girls at the movie "Inception" whilst the rest of us (3 boys: 3, 4, and 10...then my wife and I, and my mom) took in supper at Uno's (buttery gooey fatty but good) and strolled the Mall in Columbia. Since the little guys get on so well, it was kinda easy.

I admit, I was irked that teenage girls saw Inception before I could, but that's not much of a thing to be whining about.

I think I got to bed after 11pm.

Friday was Lake Cascade in Hampstead, Maryland. My mom had the idea to have us meet up there and spend the day. Whilst that plan was in motion, another plan for the evening was brewing (taking in the Oriole/Twins game). The lake had waterslides and other fun stuff for the kids. I was mostly relegated to lifeguarding the little guys and clowning for their entertainment. Apparently, it is endlessly funny for the daddy/uncle to be dunked over and over and over and over and over. My youngest brother and my baby niece also made it out. The lake wasn't as clean as I'd have liked it to be, but the older kids ran whereever they wished while the little guys either dunked me or bugged me to escort them to the bathroom. This left my mom free to take a swim or sit on the beach and play with the baby.

Alot of vigilance, yeah, but a nice way to spend a hot-as-hell day in the sun.

So.

After that was the run home to wash everyone and feed them before running to Baltimore for the ballgame. Somehow, this was accomplished with very little fuss. In fact, we were in Baltimore an hour after getting home from the lake (world-record time for this crew). Carol and I were sipping beer across from the Yard waiting for my brother to show up with the club level seats he'd gotten for us (and, thanks to a last-place worst-in-all-baseball team, the crowd was thin- which is SAD). The seats were nice but it was 2,000 degrees up there and we moved lower as the game progressed to an eventual rare win for the home team over the Minnesota visitors.

Well, I glossed over important points (we missed the streaker). My brothers both showed up with their wives and our pal Mike. The gals wanted to leave the game and go to a bar, and Mike escorted them while the 3 of us stayed and watched the sweaty win. We found the gals, and Mike, across the street. Then we split to Little Havana across the water.

And, in all my zealousness to re-tell the "story" of the weekend I'm neglecting to mention other salient points. Between us, my brothers and I have 8 kids. It's rare that we ever get together without kids or our parents. So, as we hung out at the game and the bar together, we morphed from a bunch of parents to simply a bunch of 30-somethings enjoying a night out together. The wives all talked to each other and seemed to get along well, and my brothers and I (and Mike) did what we always do - drink heavily and goof off. Silly pictures were taken. I spilled my beer on my own foot.

Like I said, this never happens.

The natural question is "why?" I don't have an answer. Maybe it's easier not to, or easier to think you know all there is to know about your family that you don't need to bother. I think we all make assumptions about each other based on past behaviors and are mostly comfortable with those.

But, get together like this, and some of those assumptions get challenged. People aren't as dumb or as smart as you'd thought. Or stuck-up. Or whatever.

I think, to a degree- this is what Mr. Obama sought with his "beer summit" awhile back. Break down some barriers. Find commonalities you might not have known existed.

The night didn't end with "kumbaya" but it ended with smiles and hugs. And Carol snoring in the passenger seat on the drive home. Sorry, dear. I think we were in bed by 2am.

Saturday was the co-birthday party for my son Jack and my nephew Tommy. My sister-in-law made gorgeous cakes (and somehow iced them in the sweatshop known as my parents' un-air-conditioned home) and we all pitched in for some fine BBQ food. Sleep-deprived, we didn't get into bed till 11 or so.

Sunday was getaway day for the NC contingent, just as my Aunt and 2 cousins drove in (from St. Louis, by way of Columbia). That was a nice visit. Though we've never really stayed in touch we're still family (my uncle unexpectedly passed 12 years ago - he was my family's rock star when I was a kid), and I salute my Aunt's efforts to keep the roots strong. My cousins (much younger than myself) are growing up smart and strong, I think my Uncle would've been proud of them women they've become.

Of course, I mucked it all up by having a hockey game last night and wasn't in bed till after 11. And up at 6 this morning to split wood with Mike. At least it wasn't as hot.

So, though I am sleep-deprived at this point simply prattling on, all of that was the preamble to the Ultimate Point of this Nonsense.

Someday, in the natural course, our parents won't be here to help us or hinder us. It'll come down to our connections betwixt and between each other that'll keep us a large family. And, realistically, it takes effort to maintain those relationships. It's easy to make the assumption that simply being related by way of blood is a strong enough bond, but that's not really true. You don't have to like your relatives, but it's a bonus if you do. In order to like each other, the petty barriers that can be erected need to be taken down, the scorecards we all keep with the lists of slights or little hurts need to be tossed out. Easier said than done, I know.

If you don't end up fighting...it helps if y'all go out drinking together. I, for one, had fun.

Sarah Palin is a nitwit!

Oh, I'm sorry, I was just amusing myself by trying to see if I'd get more "hits" on my blog simply by mentioning her name. I'm not a fan, nor am I a hater. But I do wish that her brand of 21st century neo-McCarthyism is relegated to the back pages of our future's history books. "Momma Grizzlies," indeed.

Nope. I'm really writing about me again. Took my 3 younger kids (3, 9, and 10) to the beach last week alone and barely survived. I think on Day 4 I heard "I hate the beeeeach!" and "why do we always come to the beach?" and "can we just not go to the beach?" This was not fun, really. Perhaps you can imagine why. We did go see "Despicable Me" which struck me as Shrek-redux, but was amusing in parts. They loved it. We rode bikes, at ice cream, and did very little else.

So I'm home now, and after 12 days of looking soft and hairy on the beach I'd like to look a little more awesome [this is in part because all the other guys out surfing looked more tan, more toned, and more "better" than me]. Just a little. Y'know, this may sound silly but once upon a time (not that long ago) I could bench press a good amount of weight. I was pretty proud about how much I could lift, too. But I injured my shoulders and tried to let them heal by resting them, which didn't work -- but acupuncture DID. Unfortunately, I never got back to the weights mostly due to guilt-imposed time constraints wherein I felt bad about spending 30 minutes lifting weights inside when I could have my kids playing outside instead of sitting in a gym's nursery.

All excuses aside, I simply neglected the ole' muscles. For about 10 years.

OK, so Monday I try to knock out 100 reps at a low weight and...y'know...get it all back quick. Which doesn't work, in case you were wondering.

I think every part of my upper body feels sore from my foray back into weightlifting. ow. It's a (small) miracle that I can even type this or lift my arms over my head in order to pull on a shirt (I won't even discuss the abdominal work here, but I can breathe pain-free, so far).

The hope here is that I'll get into a good groove and won't look quite so old and flabby when I return to La Playa in a few weeks. Though I'm not likely to succeed, I remain stubborn enough to fool myself into believing I can. Ugh. This aging process is.....a shi%&y one.

Surf fail

She's already better than me, and better looking to boot.

It's summer and nearly time for my relocation to Southern Virginia, the location of what was my grandmother's house. It's still in the family and a cost-effective way to have an extended beach trip. No more blogging for me for awhile.

So a couple years ago I had the bright idea to learn the old sport of surfing. Every now and then I'm sitting around my house watching the wheels and I get these ideas, often painful to those around me, and run with 'em. One year it was ice hockey, another collating pictures, and another was extended correspondence with catastrophic results.

I also saw the benefits of this for the kids: get 'em out of their comfort zones, something new and different to do at the beach. Sounded good, right?

So last summer I enrolled them in a surf camp and learned the basics of pushing a kid into a wave. Thanks to the generosity of the instructors at this camp (Wes Laine's Quiksilver camp in Va. Beach, I am not a paid endorser) I took a little funboard (all foam) and gave the sport of Hawaiian kings a try.

Too heavy for the boards. Oops.

But the kids loved it (my 3 older ones, that is). I got funboards for them all and took 'em out a few times. The 8 and 9 year-old (Bobby and Camille) loved it, and made it look easy, they just popped right up. My eldest had some trouble but seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.

I kept on trying, all summer. Couldn't stand up, could barely paddle out. I tried paddling into the swell during Hurricane Bill last July or August and wished I hadn't. I now know what clothes in a washing machine must feel like.

So, I sucked it up and bought a lesson. A fellow named Dylan who owns a shop in Pungo, Virginia (The Pungo Boardhouse) was really cool and lent me a real fiberglass board. It was night-and-day, would support my weight, and I got very very close to actually surfing.

But I didn't, never actually stood up. Yet.

I'm stubborn enough to continue to try. I'm convinced I'm not too old yet. On quiet mornings I can paddle out and enjoy the peaceful bobbing amongst the waves. There's hardly ever anything EPIC about the swell in Virginia Beach, so it's mostly peaceful and calm and there are dolphin pods nearby to observe in between trying to catch a wave.

I know I'm awful, and look ridiculous. I don't think I really care, it's one of the best things I've participated in the past few years and the chance to do it with the family makes it all the better. If I can actually get the hang of it, I see a future where all 6 of us paddle out and ride free and easy.

Or we'll kill each other, be shark bait..... something like that.

Don Vs. Mike

Well, the picture's old and outdated now.....

Growing up in the DC suburbs during the 1980's afforded radio listeners the chance to hear some great ones. Among them, and depending on your tastes, were Howard Stern (on DC-101 and later WJFK), the Greaseman (on DC-101 and later bounced around), and - my favorites - Don and Mike.

I ran across Don Geronimo between 8th and 9th grade (1985, I think) when he was on WAVA's afternoon show. My folks sent me from Mt. Airy, Maryland to DC to go to high school, so I was a commuter like all the other miserable putz's on the roads. My dad would let me pick the station, and Don's show was OK by him. Later on that year, WAVA teamed up Don and Mike in the mornings for a "zoo" show that I started to follow semi-religiously.

I grew up with it, from '85 on. They were the soundtrack to my little life: my first date, my driver's license, my first real girlfriend, my first job, graduations, and - later on - marriage and parenthood. They started out playing silly games, and kinda jive radio bits between Top-40 songs. Mike was the voice guy and Don was the MC. Together, they were great. They took lots of calls from freaks like me who were loyal listeners. Don would argue or pester his wife, Freda, on-air, and she and their son became part of the show.

They moved to afternoons in '91, I think, the show evolving into more of a talk show. I loved it, listened all the time.

Yeah, I think there were periods of time in the show when they imitated Stern and there were others when they moved away from imitation and moved into their own niche. Their chemistry was potent, Mike's talent for imitation was - and remains - amazing. Don was always able to make the most innocuous schlub an interesting and funny member of the show (like the phone screeners or sales folks). Some "cast members" (what is this, Disney?) grew into great contributors - like Robb, the intern who became the jock he apparently always wanted to be. Or long-suffering Buzz, the new guy, who was interrupted about roughly every second syllable.

There were always weird work-stoppages, unexplained suspensions that would be explained later on. I don't know, I guess I missed the shows where they'd explain everything. There were rumors about how D and M didn't really get along, etc etc. I think I always thought of them as the indivisible team, like they were "radio parents" who were stuck together, I couldn't imagine them independent of each other.

Don's wife died after being injured in a car crash in 2005. I can't even imagine, I don't want to imagine, how painful that was for he and his son. The show continued, and as time went by it seemed to me that they found a better place as a show.

Apparently, the on-air improvement wasn't translating off-air and Don left in 2008 with a pretty good sign-off. He needed to heal his life after his tragic loss. I think I held a little too tightly to Don's talk of perhaps re-uniting with Mike "someday."

Nowadays, Mike has a podcast (www.mikeomearashow.com) he produces, which is pretty good. It's similar to his canceled show but condensed into an hour. The guys are opinionated but funny - it's an entertaining hour.

Don's recently returned to radio on a station (KHTK) in Sacramento and I've been listening. I admit it's weird to hear Don without Mike and vice-versa. Being a dorky radiophile (or just too big a fan) I keep listening for the odd verbal nods or disses that they're perhaps throwing at each other. I honestly can't tell if there's a D & M feud or not. I find myself hoping that they're still pals and that "hey hey the gang's all here" is something I'll get to hear in the future. I realize I sound like I'm too emotionally invested in all this - and sound like a nitwit. Well, that's what I am, quit reading.

Truth is, they're fallible human beings like me. I'm sure there's more behind-the-scenes drama than I ever knew, and that there are hurt feelings and issues between the guys. If all 4 Beatles were still alive, I'm sure folks would be clamoring for a reunion. Hell, Pink Floyd reunited for a hot minute in 2005 (I'm a big fan). I'm allowed to root for one, right? But for a reunion to ever happen it takes the resolution of those issues (if any exist - like I said I have no idea).

In the meantime, I'll just shut up and listen. Don was correct when he described the "intimacy of radio." It's different than the Ken and Barbie dolls on TV, it's almost like someone's voice in your head. Somehow, through the radio, the intimacy of the radio makes guys like me care about the lives of the folks on the air. There ya go, douchebag city for me.

Thanks, D&M (and everyone else) for all the fun.