From The Booth

Special Angels

2012-01-31T11:21:00.003-06:00

Do you believe in angels? For many, an angel has religious connotations. Whether the religion is Christianity, Judaism or Islam, an angel is a spiritual being. As a youth, I learned that God created these spiritual beings to serve him and watch over the human race. These angels protect us from danger and deliver God’s message. I believe in these spiritual angels. However, the spiritual angel is not the only type that I am thankful for.

Let me explain with the New Oxford American Dictionary definitions of angel:

  1. A spiritual being believed to act as an attendant, agent, or messenger of God, conventionally represented in human form with wings and a long robe. 
2. A person of exemplary conduct or virtue.

The second definition of angel provides for a wide range of possibilities. I am sure that growing up, all of us have had an adult that made a difference in our young lives.

It could have been a relative, teacher or even a coach. Maybe they helped you with something you could not comprehend or helped you to develop a skill. Maybe they just helped you to fit it.

Now as adults, this type of angel may be someone that has an impact on your life in other ways. Often times, this valuable type of angel comes in the form of a friend. Personally, I am fortunate to have a number of friends whom I consider to be angels.

Last night, I was singing the blues about some bad luck that caused me to be quite crestfallen. I whined and felt sorry for myself most of the evening. Right before falling asleep it finally dawned on me that I was blessed with three very special angels that care about me.

What makes these three angels so special is that I have never physically met any of them. And they are as different as night and day.

One is Catholic, another Muslim and the third isn’t a churchgoer. One angel lives less than an hour from me, one is on the other side of Lake Michigan and the third is across the Atlantic Ocean. That angel talks funny.

I have known my first special angel for nearly two decades. I would tell you how I met this angel, but then I would have to kill you. That’s a story for another blog. I speak with this angel on the phone at least two or three times a week.

Last year I realized just how special this angel was to me when she took ill and was laid up in the hospital for about a week. That didn’t stop us from talking on the phone. After numerous prayers, this angel made a miraculous recovery and things are back to normal. Whatever normal is. I’m just relieved that she recovered and is able to return to her angel duties.

The second special angel has been a regular part of my life for over six years. She is the only one of the three that I have “met” face-to-face, conversing five or six times a week on Skype. The only drawback to these visual encounters is her constant reminders for me to shave.

This angel came into my life when we met playing an online game in Pogo of all places. Every day I thank God for Pogo because I don’t know what I would do without this special angel. There is a void in my day whenever she goes on “holiday”.

I have known the final member of this special trio of angels for about two years. Over the past year we have become increasingly close and “talk” to each other on a daily basis in facebook. Okay, make that on an hourly basis. It amazes me how well she knows me.

It is ironic that while this angel is the closest to me geographically, we have never even spoken on the phone. Yet. We have discussed the possibility of breaking bread at a local pizzeria in the near future. It would be wonderful to actually meet one of my special angels in person.

Skeptics may ask why do we need angels. To be honest, I don’t know. God can deal with us any way He pleases. Maybe it’s as simple as that – it pleases God to have these angels minister to his children. That sounds good to me.

Whatever the reason, I am thankful to have been blessed with my three special angels. They are there for me without being asked and I love each of them dearly.

I don’t know about you, but I definitely believe in angels.

Until next time…from the booth.

Lineups Please…

2012-01-28T21:55:00.000-06:00

My obsession with television is legendary. I’ve been a fan of TV since I was little, um, okay, young. While I don’t remember when we got our first color television set, my recollection of the programs is fairly solid. Sitcoms were my favorites. Shows like Andy Griffith, Dick Van Dyke and Beverly Hillbillies come to mind. I also remember being titillated as a 10-year old boy, watching Goldie Hawn and Judy Carne gyrating on Rowan and Martin’s Laugh-In. On any given night you sit down to a lineup of quality programs.

What makes this so remarkable is back in those days there were only three networks to choose from. Because the programming was so good that you didn’t need a remote control. It wasn’t unusual to tune into one station and leave it there for three straight hours.

When the ‘70s began, there were televisions in 59 million households. At the end of the decade, there were 75 million. By the end of the ‘80s there were televisions in more than 90 million homes and cable television was exploding.

Out of curiosity, I called Time Warner Cable to find out how many channels I have available to me right now. A customer rep named “Daniel” informed me that with the current plan, I have over 275 different channels to choose from.

Wow!

No wonder there is such a plethora of reality shows being produced today. It would be safe to say that the Kardashians would not be millionaires back in the ‘60s. I’ll take the girls from Petticoat Junction - Betty Jo, Bobbie Jo and Billie Jo over Kourtney, Kim and Khloe any day.

When you factor in the exorbitant cost of today’s cable with TV being completely free back in the days of only three networks, there really is no comparison in value. The lineups back then make those of today pale in comparison.

You don’t agree? I did a little bit of research and came up with my top three TV lineups from the days of free television. Take a look at these schedules and tell me that I am wrong.

Number 3 – Friday Nights in ‘71-‘72 on ABC:

7:00 – Brady Bunch
7:30 – Partridge Family
8:00 – Room 222
8:30 – Odd Couple
9:00 – Love American Style

Nice, huh? Leading off it was Marcia, Marcia, Marcia, although I definitely preferred the much underrated Jan. Next up was Shirley’s talented brood, featuring David Cassidy aka Keith serenading you each and every week.

In the third spot you had Karen Valentine portraying teacher Alice Johnson. She made all of the young male students drool, me included. In the cleanup spot was the classic battle of neatnik vs. slob with Felix and Oscar as the main combatants.

The night ended with Love American Style, which featured several tales of romance with a humorous spin. Recurring guests included Phyllis Diller, Milton Berle, Rich Little, Paul Lynde, Charles Nelson Reilly, Soupy Sales and Tiny Tim.

That was only my third favorite lineup. It gets better.

Number 2 – Thursday Nights in ‘84-‘85, ‘85-‘86, ‘86-‘87 on NBC:

7:00 – Cosby
7:30 – Family Ties
8:00 – Cheers
8:30 – Night Court
9:00 – Hill Street Blues

Right off the bat, you had Heathcliff, Clair, Sondra, Theo, Vanessa and Rudy. When dad was an obstetrician/gynecologist and mom a lawyer, you knew that you could count on hilarity on a weekly basis.

Family Ties was a hit from ’82-’89 and I feel it would be just as popular in 2012. Imagine liberal parents Steven and Elyse bringing up the über conservative Alex today. We wouldn’t need Michael Moore and Sarah Palin.

At 8:00 you got to go where everybody knew your name. Whether it was Coach or Woody pouring you a cold one, you knew there was going to be a laugh. I wasn’t a big fan of Rebecca, though.

After you left Cheers, the gavel went down and the laughs continued. Lasting nine seasons and three bailiffs, I will always remember the Halloween episodes on Night Court. Public defender Christine Sullivan (Markie Post) always wore outstanding costumes.

Finally, Thursday nights wrapped up with Hill Street Blues. The extensive cast included Kenosha’s very own, Daniel J. Travanti as Capt. Frank Furillo. It was one of the first shows that conveyed good guys having flaws and bad guys possessing redeeming qualities.

Believe it or not, there was one lineup that I felt was even better.

Number 1 – Saturday Nights in 73-74 on CBS:

7:00 – All in the Family
7:30 – M*A*S*H
8:00 – Mary Tyler Moore
8:30 – Bob Newhart Show
9:00 – Carol Burnett Show

This lineup is so strong; how do you comment on its’ greatness? Well, let’s start at the very beginning, a very good place to start…

You saw Archie and Edith at the piano singing off key, you knew it was time for All in the Family. Next, when the helicopters flew overhead to the strains of “Suicide is Painless”, it was M*A*S*H starting.

Mary Tyler Moore followed when she cheerfully tossed her hat into the chilly Minneapolis air. A simple, “Hello” as Bob Hartley answered the ringing telephone on his desk, signified that the Bob Newhart Show was beginning.

Sadly, when you heard Carol Burnett sing, “I’m so glad we had this time together, just to have a laugh, or sing a song. Seems we just get started and before you know it comes the time we have to say so long”, you knew the greatest lineup of television programs had come to an end for another week.

Until next time…from the booth.

Congratulations!

2012-01-25T15:46:00.002-06:00

Don’t you just love it when someone you know accomplishes something major in their life? It’s wonderful to see them reap the benefits of years of hard work. Perhaps I’m just living vicariously through them and I'm a little weird. But to me it doesn’t matter if the person is a family member, a close friend or even someone that I just know casually; it makes me smile when they succeed. Recently I had cause to smile when someone I know made a significant accomplishment and he deserves congratulations.

This guy is one of the hardest working people there is. Growing up he had a few obstacles to overcome but he got by them and landed a job with a major Milwaukee corporation in 2005. That same summer he also got married and started a family.

He had a strong work ethic and busted his hump, steadily moving up the corporate ladder. Before long he was not only one of the top performers for the small company in Wisconsin, but was also among the best at his position in the entire country.

His career has been marked with numerous awards and commendations, some coming at the national level. To go along with these professional accomplishments was the addition of two sons. The rambunctious youngsters are now his pride and joy.

Over the past seven years, this fellow has climbed to the top of his field and has become a man with strong family values. This past week he was rewarded for all of his effort and dedication.

He was offered a job with a new company. His position would essentially be the same, but he would receive a considerable pay increase. It was a wonderful opportunity but not without drawbacks, the biggest being he would have to relocate.

The new job was still in the Midwest, but he had come to love the city of Milwaukee and it’s people. He had also developed close relationships with many of his coworkers and bosses. It was a tough decision.

After much deliberation and discussion with his wife, he finally decided to take the new job and move his young family to Detroit, Michigan. He bid a fond farewell to his old boss, Mr. Attanasio and was welcomed by his new boss, Mr. Ilitch. His hard work had paid off.

Congratulations, Prince. Good luck with your new job.

Until next time…from the booth.

Jackie Cut Her Finger Off!

2012-01-22T08:54:00.001-06:00

As I diligently plowed through the mountainous pile of paperwork, I glanced at my watch. It read 6:30 PM. “Wonderful, at least it’s Friday”; I thought out loud, “48 hours down and only 15 more to go.” Such was the life of a second shift production supervisor at American Air Filter in Zion, Illinois. I let out a deep sigh as I reminded myself that at least I had a job, it could be worse. Ten minutes later this self-fulfilling prophecy came to fruition with five words.

“Jackie cut her finger off!”

Those chilling words would turn a tedious and mundane evening into a hair-raising night of drama and mayhem. But not initially.

When Kathy burst into the small cramped office and shouted those horrifying words, I looked up from my work and said, “Kathy, don’t f*ck with me, I’m in no mood.” I honestly thought she was messing with me. Perhaps subconsciously I didn’t believe her, knowing what chaos would ensue if it was true.

She then shrieked a second time, this time much louder, “Paul, I’m serious, Jackie cut her finger off!”

Before I could respond, a quivering Jackie appeared in the doorway holding a blood covered left hand. A multitude of crimson splatters covered her white top and were an extreme contrast to the ashen hue of terrified face.

Evidently, while Jackie was adjusting the plastic film in a packaging machine, Kathy thought she heard her say to turn it on. When she mistakenly started the machine, the tip of Jackie’s left middle finger was chopped off.

I immediately guided the injured employee to a chair in the middle of the office. She was trembling and sobbing uncontrollably. Steve, my maintenance man, came rushing into the office and murmured, “Oh my God.”

As I attempted to get Jackie to hold her bloody hand above her heart, I told Steve to call 911. By then, a small crowd of employees had gathered outside of the office, trying to see what the commotion was all about. I quickly told them to take an early break.

Steve hung up the phone and told me that the rescue squad was on the way. Still doing my best to calm the panic-stricken Jackie, I directed Steve to go to the front entrance so he could direct the paramedics to our department when they arrived. As he was scurrying off, I barked, “Tell Victor to get over here!”

Moments later, Victor, the supervisor of the high-speed production area, skidded to a stop on his golf cart outside the office. “Holy shit” were the first words out of his mouth. My glare made him aware that I needed help, not added drama.

Kathy was providing all the extra drama I could handle at the moment.

While Jackie bawled hysterically and tried to catch her breath, Kathy was screaming at her, “It’s my fault, I turned the machine on!” Tears smeared her mascara as she continued to screech, “It’s all my fault, hit me, Jackie, hit me!”

Obviously this wasn’t helping the situation at all.

I instructed Victor to take the distraught Kathy to the lunchroom, get her a Coke or something and calm her down. I just wanted her out of there. Jackie was frantic enough without Kathy adding to the turmoil.

Thankfully, the paramedics showed up as Victor was escorting Kathy from the office. As one asked me for details, the rest of the emergency medical crew began administering first aid to Jackie.

As the EMTs tended to her severed digit, they also attempted to control her frenetic breathing. Seeing that they no longer needed my services, I grabbed a piece of gauze and I excused myself from the office.

As I briskly walked over to the machine where the accident had occurred, I kept my head down, eyeballing the shop floor. A quick inspection of the east side of the machine proved fruitless. Determined, I continued my search to the other side, just hoping…

Yes, there it was! I had found what I was looking for.

Bending over, I used the gauze to carefully scoop up the small portion of jagged pale flesh from the dusty floor. Wrapping it up, I noticed that the fingernail was still intact. Nice.

When I got back to the office, I asked one of the medical techs to step outside, making sure not to draw Jackie’s attention. She was somewhat more composed and I didn’t want to do anything to change that.

Outside the office, I discreetly handed the paramedic the small package containing the tip of Jackie’s middle finger. Somewhat surprised, he said, “Wow, you found it.” He then packed it into a small cup of ice and told me he would see what they could do, but it was probably too small to reattach.

Somewhat disheartened, I returned to the office. Jackie’s left hand was now heavily bandaged and she was being helped onto a gurney. Although her breathing was now under control, she was still trembling and had tears streaming down her freckled face.

As the EMTs wheeled her out of the office, Jackie asked me if I would go with her to the hospital and stay with her until Roger could get there. I said sure I would. Roger was her fiancé and worked in Racine, Wisconsin. It would him at least an hour to drive to St. Therese Medical Center where she was being taken.

The emergency people told me to follow them in my truck, that way I could return when Roger arrived. Before leaving I made sure that Roger was contacted and asked Victor to keep an eye on my crew until I returned. As harrowing and gruesome as this situation was, I was surprised that I had remained so composed.

That all changed the moment I got in my truck to follow the ambulance to the medical facility in Waukegan.

The gravity of what had just transpired finally hit me. It hit me like a brick. I didn’t cry. I didn’t puke. I didn’t pass out. But I did feel that I was about to do all three. I did hyperventilate for most of the 15-minute trip.

After I arrived, I was able to regain my composure and stayed with Jackie until her fiancé showed up. Thankfully, the remainder of the night was event free. On their way home, Jackie and Roger stopped by the plant to let everyone know she was okay. No one was happier than Kathy to see her.

Sadly, the doctors were not able to reattach the piece of Jackie’s finger that I had recovered. She did, however, receive a considerable compensation check from American Air Filter’s insurance company. Shortly after the accident, Jackie married Roger, albeit with a left middle finger that was now 1⁄4” shorter.

When all was said and done, I guess Kathy was right – Jackie cut her finger off.

Until next time…from the booth.

Are You Ready For Some Survivor?

2012-01-19T19:48:00.002-06:00

Gadzooks! It was only 32 short days ago that Jamie, Mary Beth and myself were posting the final Official Survivor: South Pacific Recap Trilogy for Season 23. Now, believe it or not, there are only 27 short days until the first Official Survivor: One World Recap Trilogy for Season 24 will be posted! That’s right, we’re getting the band back together for another season of irreverent hilarity. Did you miss us?

This morning, while doing my research (you don’t think I fly by the seat of my pants, do you?), I came across a short preview clip on CBS.com. As I frantically scribbled notes while watching those 166 seconds of video, I was flabbergasted.

Seriously. Here are some of the highlights of the cast:

A gay Republican, a “little person” sporting a Russell Hantz style hat, a woman billing herself as a triple threat based on her boobs, booty and ability to sing, the ubiquitous angry black woman and not one, but two competitors with Tarzan fetishes.

But wait, there’s more. There is enough cheesecake and beefcake for everyone! For the guys, the self-proclaimed triple threat isn’t the only lady with a bikini top filled beyond capacity.

Ladies, please don’t despair, there are also plenty of buns and six-packs for your viewing pleasure. Award-winning host Jeff Probst himself said they are all good looking.

This is your first look at the cast of Survivor: One World:

Here are the tribes and a bit of information on the contestants:

Salani Tribe (Women): Nina Acosta, 51, Clovis, CA, retired LAPD officer; Christina Cha, 29, West Hollywood, CA, career consultant; Monica Culpepper, 41, Tampa, FL, ex-NFL player’s wife; Kat Edorsson, 22, Orlando, FL, timeshare rep; Chelsea Meissner, 26, Charleston, SC, medical sales; Kourtney Moon, 29, Austin, TX, motorcycle repair; Alicia Rosa, 25, Chicago, IL, special ed teacher; Kim Spradlin, 29, San Antonio, TX, bridal shop owner; Sabrina Thompson, 33, Brooklyn, NY, high school teacher.

Manono Tribe (Men): Jay Byars, 25, Gaffney, SC, model; Colton Cumbie, 21, Monroeville, AL, college student; Michael Jefferson, 30, Seattle, WA, banker; Leif Manson, 27, San Diego, CA, phlebotomist; Jonas Otsuji, Lehi, UT, sushi chef; Bill Posley, 28, Venice, CA, stand-up comedian; Matt Quinlan, 33, San Francisco, CA, attorney; Troy Robertson, 50, Miami, FL, swimsuit photographer; Greg Smith, 64, Houston, TX, plastic surgeon.

Like in Survivor: The Amazon and Survivor: Vanuatu, this season will be a battle of the sexes. Although the men vs. women angle has been done before, there is a new twist.

Both tribes will be forced to coexist on the same camp.

According to Probst, the tribes can build one camp, two camps or no camps. He went on to say that men can sleep over with the women, women can sleep over with the men, or they can choose to not interact at all. They can do whatever they like. Hmm…

Another change is that after two seasons, the Redemption Island feature will not be used. This signals the return of reward challenges. It also means that when a contestant hears Probst utter those fateful words, “The tribe has spoken”, they are out of the game.

Something else to look for are what Probst calls “Do it Yourself Challenges”, which will be sprinkled throughout the season. These Probst-less competitions will take place at camp with tribes receiving materials and instructions informing them of the rules so they can conduct their own challenge. This could prove to be either very interesting or a big bomb. (See Redemption Island)

The final new twist is with the Hidden Immunity Idols. This season, there will be two idols hidden at the camp – one for each tribe, but finding an Idol doesn’t guarantee your safety. Instead of using it for yourself, you have to give it to someone from the other tribe. Let the politicking begin!

So, are you ready for season 24 of Survivor: One World? I know I am. The premier will be Wednesday, February 15 and I can’t wait. Oh crud! I missed American Idol. Ha!

Until next time…from the booth.

I Get It

2012-01-16T20:10:00.002-06:00

Yesterday the Green Bay Packers were defeated by the New York Giants in their NFC Playoff game, 37-20. By getting their asses soundly kicked, their quest for another Super Bowl ring came to a grinding halt. Guess what? I’m okay with that. Don’t get me wrong, I would have loved to see them win it all again. But they didn’t. Thankfully life goes on and I just have to find something else to occupy my time on Sundays. It’s not the end of the world.

I am not all torn up because they played like crap and lost. I know that it’s kind of remarkable that I feel this way. It even surprises me.

The Packers will get another shot at it next season starting in September. Most likely, I will watch every game. But I’m not going to lose any sleep in anticipation. I can wait.

I should have seen this coming. As exciting as last season’s championship run was, it wasn’t as special to me as the Packer’s triumph in Super Bowl XXXI. I can’t put my finger on it. It just wasn’t as thrilling.

This past season, I noticed that I was beginning to tire of the glut of Packer coverage, whether it was on TV or the radio. Nowadays, there are simply too many “experts” out there.

These “experts” come in many shapes and forms. Of course, there is the media. However, it’s not like the media of old. No longer is the media made up old jocks and guys that have been covering sports forever.

Those old school guys are now in the minority. They are being replaced with know-it-all women, snot-nosed kids and narcissistic media whores willing to say anything outlandish so that they get noticed.

The other group of “experts” is the fans. Because of the over saturation of media, there is a growing contingent of sports enthusiasts who think they know everything. The key word is think. The problem is they can only regurgitate the information they garnered from the new breed of 24/7 media, information that is often skewed.

Another reason I have lost some of the fire in my belly is the increasing amount of schadenfreude displayed by today’s fans. Schadenfreude is a German word meaning pleasure derived by someone from another person’s misfortune.

Back in the day, I was as guilty as anyone when it came to schadenfreude. Nothing pleased me more to see the Cubs or Bears blow a game. I knew there would be much wailing and gnashing of teeth to follow. And I loved it.

Somewhere along the line something changed because I don’t get the enjoyment from a Chicago loss like I used to do. Sure, some of their fans still irritate me, but for every asshole there are five dear friends that happen to support the teams that I can’t stand.

Last night, after the Packer’s catastrophic loss, I don’t know what annoyed me more, the Bear fans that came out of the woodwork basking in the Green Bay defeat, or the Packer fans that were wringing their hands in anguish and despair. Both groups need to grow up.

Maybe that’s what it is; I am finally growing up.

Years ago, Dad would often tell me to calm down when I would start hollering and stressing out during a game. He would say, “It’s not worth getting sick over, it’s only a game.”

At the time, I didn’t understand his lack of passion. After all, it was the Green Bay Packers! I knew Dad loved the Pack just like I did; he brought me up watching them. I just didn’t get why he never seemed to get as upset when they lost as I did.

Well, now I finally do. Dad, after all these years, I get it.

* * * * * * *

Results from the Favorite TV Family Poll:

The Cleavers – 20%
The Keatons – 15%
The Andersons, The Bradys, The Flinstones and The Simpsons – 10%
The Barones, The Bunkers, The Clampetts, The Cunninghams and The Formans – 5%
No Votes – The Addams, The Arnolds, The Connors, The Huxtables, The Munsters, The Nelsons, The Partridges, The Petries and The Ricardos.

My friend Patty’s disdain for facebook’s new “timeline” is the inspiration for my new poll. Make sure you cast your vote before you leave. Until next time…from the booth.

We’re No Angels

2012-01-12T15:19:00.000-06:00

“If crime showed on a man’s face, there wouldn’t be any mirrors.”

~ Albert (Aldo Ray)
We’re No Angels (1955)

That quote is one of my all-time favorites from the classic movie We’re No Angels. I enjoy it so much that I posted it as my facebook status the other day. This prompted my friend Patty to comment, “It shows on MY face, believe me…” I replied that I thought she had a lovely face and that all I see is a wonderful soul that cares about others.

Patty, being the smart aleck that she is, remarked, “Oh sure, BABY pics!” After thinking for a moment, I told her that I found out a long time ago that once I get to know someone, they never look the same to me again. I only see what’s inside that person.

This may sound unusual, but it’s true. No matter how someone might look in a photo, I only see the person based on what they mean to me.

The first time this sensation occurred to me was with Denise, a girl that I was dating. Denise was my first official girlfriend and I thought that I loved her. Maybe I did or perhaps it was just infatuation.

Who knows?

That’s not really important now. What is important is that I cared about her and I thought that I had gotten to know her. When I looked at Denise, I saw someone that was special to me for a variety of reasons.

After dating for a while, I saw a picture from a wedding reception that we had recently attended. I did a double take. At first glance I wasn’t sure that it was the Denise I had grown so fond of. Somehow she looked different to me.

She dumped me a month later. Something about me caring too much…

Looking back, I realize that the reason Denise looked different in that picture is because I really didn’t know her. I was just thrilled to finally have a girlfriend. To be honest, I didn’t want to admit that I didn’t know her all that well.

Since my experience with Denise, I have tried to be more cautious when evaluating people in general. I honestly do try to get to know someone before developing an opinion of him or her. Unfortunately, I’m not too sure how successful I have been in this undertaking.

According to my dear friend Bev, my efforts have been in vain. She often chides me for thinking everyone is nice. When I ask her to be more specific, her typical response is, “You never see bad in anybody.”

Oops.

If that were indeed true, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. However, I don’t totally agree with Bev’s assessment of my ability to gauge the quality of individuals.

While, I might tend to concentrate on people’s good traits, I am quite aware that nobody is perfect. There is good and bad in everyone.

In fact, that is what endears me to some people. It gives me great joy to know someone who is considered to be “rough around the edges” who also possesses redeeming attributes.

My penchant for this is evidenced in two of my favorite TV shows, Northern Exposure and The Wire.

On Northern Exposure, as vindictive and greedy as Maurice Minnifield was, he also had a heart of gold and a real softy deep inside. No one is totally rotten. Conversely, as charming as Marilyn Whirlwind was, her spiteful side would surface on occasion. No one is that sweet, not even Marilyn. I loved that show.

The Wire also had its share of enigmatic characters, the most notable being Omar Little. Omar was a gay stick-up man who murdered more people than I care to recall. Yet, he lived by a strict moral code and never bothered people not involved in “the game”. He also had a strong dislike for profanity. (Take note, Bev.) Omar is easily my favorite TV character of all time.

One final example of “bad” people possessing endearing qualities comes from We’re No Angels. Three convicts – Joseph, Albert and Jules escape from prison on Devil’s Island and arrive at a nearby French colonial town.

They go to the store of the Ducotels – Felix, Amelie and their daughter Isabelle, fully intending to rob them. However, the three felons have a change of heart and instead, end helping the troubled family with their problems.

In fact, they even fix them Christmas dinner. After which, Joseph says, “We came here to rob them and that’s what we’re gonna do – beat their heads in, gouge their eyes out, slash their throats. Soon as we wash the dishes.”

Of course they never harm a hair on the head on any of the Ducotels. Only Felix’s evil cousin, Andre and his creepy nephew, Paul feel their wrath. They both die.

But I digress. This blog began with a quote from We’re No Angels and evolved into me talking about being able to see the good in others. Along with a few other things. To wrap it up, I would like to quote that great movie one last time.

Because of their kind deeds, young Isabelle gushed about the convicts being angels. This caused Albert to say, “Even the girl called us angels.” To which Albert responded, “We’re no angels.”

No, Joseph, none of us are. But there is some good in all of us.

Until next time…from the booth.

Decisions, Decisions…

2012-01-10T13:40:00.001-06:00

Being a recovering TV addict, I face tough decisions every day of my life. There is the constant struggle whether to watch TV or actually do something constructive. Having a DVR only adds another element to the dilemma and complicates things more so. Now, not only must I attempt to avoid the temptation of excessive TV viewing, I must also resist the opportunity to record more than one program at a time. The lurid seduction of a potential multiple TV-gasm is something I that battle daily. Decisions, decisions…

Over the past few years I have been fairly successful in my endeavor to curb my exorbitant TV viewing. This was facilitated when my both of my favorite HBO series, The Sopranos and The Wire, came to an end. This enabled me to make better decisions.

For a while, my only television addictions were Survivor, Hell’s Kitchen, Kitchen Nightmares and reruns of Match Game. My condition was steadily improving and there were fewer tough decisions to make.

Unfortunately, that has changed. My TV dependency reared it’s ugly once again and I am compelled to make more tough decisions. Again.

It started a few months back when my friend Jimmy G introduced me to the History Channel. I know, the History Channel doesn’t sound that bad. After all, history is educational. It is, isn’t it?

Well, it is. Sort of…

The programs that I became hooked on are Pawn Stars, American Pickers and American Restoration. I realize that these shows are not exactly documentaries about the Great Depression or the Roman Empire.

However, they are better choices than some of the other selections the History Channel offers, like Ax Men, Hairy Bikers or Swamp People.

So thanks to Jimmy G, I am now obsessed with Rick, the Old Man, Hoss, Chumlee, Mike, Frank, Danielle and Rick’s crew on American Restoration. Thanks a lot, buddy.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, another friend decided to muddy the waters by enticing me with yet another program.

For a long time my friend, Patty 4-Names, told me how I should watch That ‘70s Show. She said it was a wonderful show based in the same era we grew up in and on top of that, it was set in southeast Wisconsin.

She would frequently remind me when it was on and tell me that I should watch it. Despite her glowing recommendations, I never tuned in to the much-ballyhooed program, poo-pooing her suggestions. I had decided that I just couldn’t get fixated on another TV show, not even That Show. I was gonna be firm this time.

Ya, you guessed it.

I am now strung out on That ‘70s Show. Strung out bad. I can’t help it, though. Every time I change the channel it’s on. Today alone there are 12 different episodes airing. It’s on channel 24, MTV, Nick at Nite and the Family Channel.

There is just no way to avoid it.

The thing is, I don’t want to avoid it. It is a marvelous show. Patty was right. It does indeed bring back many fond memories of growing up as a teenager here in Wisconsin. Heck, they even mention Kenosha all the time.

Each afternoon, I can’t wait to tune in and find out what wacky high jinks Eric, Donna, Michael, Jackie, Hyde and Fez are going to get themselves into. Then I wait anxiously to see how Red, Kitty, Bob and Midge are gonna handle those crazy kids. The hilarity ensues.

Compliments of my friend Patty, it’s official. I have become a That ‘70s Show Junkie. Way to go, 4-Names, I hope you’re happy now.

There you have it, thanks to two of my friends, I am again required to make an increased number of decisions concerning my compulsive TV habit. Hopefully there is a 12-step program to help get this monkey off my back.

I need to get going. I have to decide which show to watch live and which one to DVR tomorrow night, American Restoration or Dog the Bounty Hunter. Decisions, decisions…

Until next time…from the booth.

Survey Says

2012-01-08T07:52:00.001-06:00

Regular readers of From The Booth are aware of the poll that I occasionally run. It is located just to the right of the blog, below my mug shot and the Blog Archive. Typically, the poll questions aren’t hard-hitting or earth shattering. Mostly they are light-hearted queries dealing with pop culture - Favorite Pizza Topping, Favorite Rock Group, etc. Depending on the topic, the response to the poll has varied greatly. Some questions seem to push people’s buttons more than others. The recently completed Favorite TV Mom poll was an example of one such question.

On Thursday, I decided to give the poll a plug on facebook. With less than a day left, the voting was fairly spirited, but I wanted to stir up a little more interest. With that in mind, I posted the following:

“There are less than 22 hours left to vote for your favorite TV Mom! Laura Petrie holds a tissue paper thin lead over Margaret Anderson and Clair Huxtable with Marie Barone, Kitty Forman and Donna Reed right behind! Cast your vote now! Make sure your favorite wins!”

There was a slight surge in voting, but it was the response on facebook that revealed the passion people have for their TV Moms. Here are some of the 31 comments made following my original post:

Survivor blog contributor Jamie, an obvious fan of Ritchie Petrie’s mom, started the ball rolling with – “Go Laura!”

To which Clyde responded – “I demand equal coverage for June Cleaver!” Beaver’s mom had a backer!

I reminded Clyde that there was still time and that he should get his friends to help the Beaver’s mom.

That’s when facebook legend, Patty 4-Names chimed in with, “Laura Petrie only had ONE KID! Sheesh! And Ritchie was always stuck in that mysterious room at the edge of the screen! Or in the bathtub! Or at Millie and Jerry’s!”

This caused Mary Beth, the other Survivor geek, to defend Laura with – “Yeah but Laura could host a celebrity filled dinner party, still look like a million bucks AND get up and do an impromptu song and dance routine at the drop of a hat! I’d like to see June Cleaver do that!”

The war of words was on. Clyde countered with – “June had those beautiful pearls around her neck at all times. Besides she was a domestic (always at home doing her thing) not a liberated woman at all. But she could do anything Laura could do if she wanted to! So there!”

That seemed to remind Patty 4-Names that June vacuumed in high heels. Or as she fervently put it – “She vacuumed in high HEELS! She VACUUMED!”

Not to be outdone, Mary Beth retorted – “I bet June couldn’t do the Twizzle! She didn’t have the mandatory-fringed sweater and stirrup pants! You have to have those to Twizzle correctly!”

My response to that was – “Stirrup pants. Mmmmmm…”

Patty 4-Names promptly called me a perv. Back to the Battle of the TV Moms.

Mary Beth’s love for Laura was further evidenced when she wrote – “June would also never dare to open Ward’s mail! That wouldn’t be right in those times! Laura couldn’t resist and think of the comic mayhem that happened when it turned out to be the inflatable boat!”

She went on to challenge anyone to think of one comic moment that was all June Cleaver. She dared anyone to come up with even one such instance.

Then Clyde tried to bring politics into the debate, lauding June as a true fiscal conservative, but Mary Beth would have none of it. She quickly brought up that June was spotted talking jive in the movie Airplane.

Pretty heady stuff. There were a few more comments.

Reggie from Arizona was incredulous that Margaret Anderson had more votes than June. He said, that while he voted for Mrs. Cleaver, he felt Mrs. Ingalls was “a far better mother than Mrs. Anderson.”

Toward the end, Patty 4-Names unexpectedly called for people to rise up and vote for Roseanne Connor. Her rallying point was that Roseanne was “the only one who even resembled an actual Mom!”

Clyde brought the lunacy to an end when he reminded those who voted for Shirley Partridge that she raised “a bunch of druggies”. Based on that premise, he implored people to change their votes to June Cleaver.

When all the verbal sparring had finished, the poll closed on Friday night with the following final results:

Tied for first with 14% - Margaret Anderson (Betty, Bud, Kathy) and Laura Petrie (Ritchie)

Tied for third with 10% - June Cleaver (Wally, Theodore), Clair Huxtable (Sondra, Denise, Theo, Vanessa, Rudy) and Donna Reed (Mary, Jeff, Trish)

Tied for sixth with 7% - Kitty Forman (Laurie, Eric) and Marie Barone (Robert, Raymond)

Tied for eighth with 3% - Roseanne Connor (Becky, Darlene, D.J.), Estelle Costanza (George), Marion Cunningham (Chuck, Richie, Joanie), Lois Griffin (Meg, Chris, Stewie), Shirley Partridge (Keith, Laurie, Danny, Chris, Tracy), Lucy Ricardo (Little Ricky) and Marge Simpson (Bart, Lisa, Maggie)

The following had no votes - Peggy Hill (Bobby), Carmelo Soprano (Meadow, A.J.), Carla Tortelli (Anthony, Serafina, Gino, Anne Marie, Lucinda, Ludlow, Elvis, Jesse), Olivia Walton (John Boy, Jason, Mary Ellen, Erin, Benjamin, James, Elizabeth), Norma Arnold (Karen, Wayne, Kevin), Carol Brady (Greg, Marcia, Peter, Jan, Bobby, Cindy), Peg Bundy (Kelly, Bud), Florida Evans (Michael, Thelma, J.J.), Caroline Ingalls (Laura, Mary, Carrie, Freddie, Grace, Albert, James, Cassandra), Jane Jetson (Judy, Elroy) and Elyse Keaton (Alex, Mallory, Jennifer, Andy)

While most know the TV Dads that go with these TV Moms, what about their kids? That’s why I included the names of their children. Wow, Carla Tortelli was certainly the prolific breeder.

Now you have the entire family of your Favorite TV Moms. This is the perfect segue to the new poll that I posted late last night – What Is Your Favorite TV Family? Pretty clever, huh?

Make sure that you vote. Leave a comment here or in facebook, don’t cost nuthin’. Until next time…from the booth.

A 400 Club Genesis

2012-01-06T11:25:00.000-06:00

In 1976 a bunch of guys that I worked with at Koos Inc. decided to form a softball team. We played for The Sands. We were sponsored by Charlie Huck and played in the lowest city recreation League possible. The makeup of the team was quite diverse. There were a few fellows that could actually play softball, a couple of decent athletes, a bunch of guys that needed a new reason to go the bar and a catcher of ample proportions who ran things. That last guy would be me.

The season was a combination of competing against teams that were as lousy as we were and getting destroyed by a team called Tappa Hafa Kega Dai. It would be the first and last season of The Sands team. The players who just wanted a night out found a new reason to go to the bar. Meanwhile, the guys who could actually play softball wanted more, and under the guidance of the catcher of ample proportions formed the legendary 400 Club.

In 1977, we would play as The 400 Club in city league and as Koos Inc. at historic Finney’s West. Forrest McConnell initially sponsored our Koos Inc. team, with Peter Lederer filling that role when he took over the business. The 400 Club had only sponsor – the late Vern Ekern.

Vern Ekern was a barrel-chested Norwegian with hands that resembled old catcher’s mitts. Despite his incessant reminding of us to “stop down and spend a buck”, Vern was the best sponsor you could ask for. We always had full uniforms, complete with stirrups and entered all the tournaments we wanted. All Vern asked of us was to “stop down and spend a buck” and to throw an annual Beer Bust.

Throwing a Beer Bust was never a problem for the 400 Club team. Each year I would give every player twenty $2.00 tickets to sell. Being a control freak, I always worked the door and collected the money and raffle tickets. It was always a sellout and every year something “special” would happen.

For instance, it was during a 400 Club Beer Bust when I threw the only punch in my adult life. An attendee who had signed his raffle ticket “Stormin’ Norman” was trying to become a bit too familiar with Vern’s oldest daughter Bonnie. Despite her polite rejections, Norman continued to accost Bonnie to the point that she finally requested my help.

Try as I might to explain to the slightly over-served patron that Bonnie wanted nothing to do with him, he persisted. Then he stepped over the line and grabbed Ekern girl by the arm. I grabbed Norman and pushed him toward the front door. Maybe I was being kind when I described him as being slightly over-served.

The man was drunk on his ass. That would be the only thing that could explain what he did next. After being shoved a good fifteen feet, he turned around and charged at me. Now I was by no means a tough guy, in fact I hated fighting. But I was eight inches taller and a couple hundred pounds heavier than “Stormin’ Norman”. And the knucklehead still charged at me!

After getting over my initial shock, I did what any gentleman protecting a young lady’s honor would do. I hit him. To this day I am not certain whether it was my fist or my forearm that connected with Norman. I am also not quite sure just where I connected on my intoxicated combatant’s body. What I am sure of is that he was headed toward the front door again, however this time he was air born.

Norman landed with a thud and was helped outside by a few of his friends who obviously had more common sense than he. With Bonnie’s honor in tact and her would-be assailant gone, the Beer Bust continued without further issue. 400 Club Beer Busts were always a highlight of the spring season.

In 1979 we finished second in the Rotary Club Tournament, losing to Valeri 2 in the championship game. Later that same season Margetson Construction eliminated us from the City Tournament in the Quarterfinals. Margetson would become a constant thorn in the side of the 400 Club.

Over the years, our team was successful in the city league and at one time had a streak of 38 consecutive games without a loss. Interestingly, the pitcher of the team that ultimately snapped our winning streak was Jim Nehls. This was significant because Nehls also pitched for Margetson Construction.

* * * * * * *

Since my last blog was about the notorious 400 Club softball team, I thought that it would be nice to give a little more history about the team. The above was an excerpt from my book, Some Kenosha Softball, which is available at Sister Act on Roosevelt Road. I have knocked the price down to only $10. Grab a copy now!

Until next time…from the booth.

A Memorable Winter Meeting

2012-01-04T07:16:00.001-06:00

In 1977 the legendary 400 Club softball team was formed with yours truly calling the shots as the manager. We started out playing teams like Kerry’s Kritters. Before long we were competing with the likes of Tirabassi’s, Finney’s and Pitt’s Decorating. Over the years, our team had its moments of glory, at one point winning 38 consecutive city league games. In addition to league play, our team also did well in tournaments, filling the trophy cases of tavern owner and sponsor Vern Ekern. The 400 Club was a successful team that had made a name for itself.

While the team made a definite mark on the Kenosha softball scene, it should be noted that it wasn’t only for their triumphs on the diamond. The 400 Club also had a reputation for being rowdy renegades.

We were the proverbial square peg in a round hole. There were several colorful characters on the 400 Club. We weren’t always the nicest team and had gained some notoriety as the Oakland Raiders of the softball world.

That being said, there was a reason our team was successful, it was well organized. That was my job. I made sure entry fees were paid, that uniforms were ordered, that beer busts were scheduled and, most importantly, made sure we had players that were of 400 Club quality.

Because of our rebellious reputation, it wasn’t always easy attracting new talent to our squad of misfits. Not everyone was comfortable being a part of a team with a bad-boy image. The ideal 400 Club candidate had to have skills at the bar as well as on the diamond.

Acquiring just the right guy was much too big a job for just one man; it was a team effort. Since I wanted everyone’s input, this was a subject that was discussed at our annual Winter Meeting.

That’s right, the 400 Club had a Winter Meeting each year. Typically, it took place near the end of January, but no later than the first weekend of February. After all, our beer bust had to be scheduled before the season started.

As you might suspect, the 400 Club Winter Meeting wasn’t all business. Adult beverages were being consumed while team concerns were being discussed. Then, once it was decided what new players we were going after and the date for the beer bust, it was time to start doing some serious drinking.

Given the track record of our group, it should come as no surprise that the Winter Meeting could turn into a raucous evening of partying. However, by 400 Club standards, most of these get-togethers were not very memorable.

However, one particular Winter Meeting does stand out from all of the rest.

There was about a dozen members of the team in the 400 Club on that Saturday night in late January. The only other customer was a guy who rented a room above of the iconic tavern. He was known as “Larry D” and sat in his regular spot at the far end of the bar and was nursing a tap beer.

It looked like a relatively quiet night for the bartender, Skip. He liked it that way. Skip wasn’t what you would call energetic. The less excitement, the better. He liked it quiet. Unfortunately for Skip, it wouldn’t stay quiet.

Not by a long shot.

The “business” portion of the meeting had concluded and the guys from the team were relaxing with a few cocktails. For a 400 Club team activity, it was relatively subdued. That is until the front door suddenly exploded open and Mark Ekern burst in. Without any warning, he jerked Larry D from his bar stool and threw to the hard tile floor.

As a team, our jaws collectively dropped in astonishment. Mark was the brother of 400 Club stalwart, Glen “Munk” Ekern. Despite the fact that they were the sons of our sponsor Vern, they had nothing in common. Absolutely nothing.

Munk was, hmm, let’s see, I need to put this nicely. Munk was aggressive and loved confrontation. He was a big reason the 400 Club had the image it did. On the other hand, Mark was mild-mannered, unassuming and generally kept to himself. He didn’t seem to have a hostile bone in his body.

That was the reason we were so astounded. What could have possibly happened to provoke Mark’s physical attack on Larry D?

We got a clue when Mark hollered, “I told you to stay away from Bonnie, but you wouldn’t listen!” Bonnie was the eldest of Vern’s six daughters and a very sweet girl. Evidently, Larry D had persisted on hitting on her even though he was warned against it.

Mark had taken exception to this and let him know it in a very violent fashion.

The manner he used to express his displeasure with Larry D wasn’t for the faint of heart. He used his fists. He used his feet. He used tables, bar stools and anything else he could get his hands on. The enraged Mark didn’t give him a chance.

Larry D was helpless and could do nothing to protect himself from the onslaught. He was bounced off of walls and the bar, knocked to the floor, then picked up again so Mark could repeat the process.

It wasn’t pretty.

In fact, at one point, it got so ugly it prompted Red DiCello, no shrinking violet himself when it came to fighting, to ask me, “Shouldn’t we stop him, Paul?” Having a soft spot in my heart for Bonnie, I said, “No, not yet, let him go.”

Finally, when Mark began to ram Larry D’s head into the heavy wooden base of a video game, I told Red and the rest of the guys that now was the time to put an end to the vicious beat down.

After things had settled down, Mark left, but not before reminding Larry D in no uncertain terms that he had better “stay the f*ck” away from his sister. Larry D, broken and bloodied, could only nod his head as he slowly crawled up the stairs to his room located above the bar.

While we were picking up bar stools and getting the bar back in order, a visibly shaken Skip answered the phone. After a brief conversation, he hung up the phone and announced, “Vern said to get the guys a drink.”

The team roared its approval. Behind the bar, Skip just shook his head as he started setting up our drinks. Above the bar, Larry D tended to his wounds.

Yes, even by 400 Club standards, that was a memorable Winter Meeting.

Until next time…from the booth.

Beast Mode English Style

2012-01-02T13:11:00.002-06:00

Back in August I wrote a blog about the Milwaukee Brewers’ new celebration titled “Beast Mode Brewer Style”. If you recall, after a big hit, players would turn to the dugout with their arms spread out like they were scaring someone. Prince Fielder explained that Monster Inc. was his kids’ favorite movie and they would imitate Sully doing “Beast Mode”. He thought it was funny, so he figured that he might as well do it, too. It became a tradition.

On Christmas Eve that tradition crossed the pond to England.

My British friend, Jake Lammas celebrated his tenth birthday on December 24, 2011. Because he is such an avid sport fan, I decided to send him a Prince Fielder “Beast Mode” t-shirt as a present.

Not only is Jake a fan of sports, he is an accomplished athlete in his own right. The strapping lad from King’s Lynn, Norfolk currently competes in four sports. His favorite is rugby, followed by football, swimming and judo. He also enjoys fishing with his father, Scott.

Here are a few photos of Jake documenting his athletic prowess:

Jake posing with the Leicester Tiger mascot. The Leicester Tigers are a rugby powerhouse and are the equivalent of the New York Yankees. Jake played an Under-10 tournament quarterfinal match at Welford Road one week before his birthday.

Jake accepting his football award. The young Brit had the distinction of scoring a goal as a goalkeeper. His mighty kick went the length of the field, bouncing once before settling into the opponent’s net.

Jake, sporting a colorful hat, proudly displaying one of the many fish he caught this past summer.

Another proud moment as Jake holds his player of the month trophy for Judo. He would go on to earn his green belt competing against boys six years his senior. Notice he is wearing a Brewers t-shirt.

This is Jake wearing his “Beast Mode” t-shirt. It should be noted that the shirt is a men’s size medium. It’s a bit big for him now, but his mother Debbie said he will outgrow it. She added that when he does, she would wear it!

Prince Fielder and the Brewers may have originated “Beast Mode” here in the United States, but Jake Lammas is keeping the tradition alive and kicking – English Style.

If you haven’t already done so, please vote for your favorite TV Mom in my poll. Until next time…from the booth.

Good Intentions For 2012

2011-12-30T20:25:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve, the traditional day for making year-end lists and those dreaded resolutions. I’m not doing any lists. I have done enough of those throughout the year on this blog. Nor am I going to make any resolutions. They usually end up being broke shortly after you make them. So, there will be no resolutions. There will be no pledges, commitments or promises. There will be nothing that resembles the classic resolution.

What I am willing to do is make a list of good intentions for 2012. This list will not be specific in nature. Instead, it will serve as a guideline to help me be a better person.

That’s all I want to accomplish in 2012. To be a better person. Better in the eyes of God. Better to my family and friends. Better to casual acquaintances. Even better to people I have never met. And lastly, better to myself.

This might seem vague and fuzzy, but that’s okay. I know that I want to be a better person. Here’s my list of good intentions that will help me achieve this.

1. Pray on a more consistent basis. Succeeding in doing this will help the rest of the list to fall into place. It is the most important thing on this list.

2. Be more patient and learn not to lose my temper, starting with those closest to me.

3. Eat better and be more active. No-brainer here. A plan is in the works.

4. Become more organized. People that know me might think that I’m already too anal, but I have areas that need work. Trust me on this.

5. Read more books. I have at least a dozen books waiting to be read. As the immortal Emil Faber said, “Knowledge is good.”

6. Get the “Cottage Book” project completed. I think this will make the people closest to me happy. I know it would make me happy.

7. Make my savings account grow. It would probably be a good idea to start a savings account first…

That’s my list of good intentions for 2012. If I make a sincere effort to make these things happen, I honestly believe that I can be a better person. And that’s important to me. We shall see.

* * * * * * *

The results from the Favorite Dad Poll:

Rob Petrie and Andy Taylor – 17% each
Ray Barone and Peter Griffin – 13% each
Al Bundy, Ward Cleaver and Homer Simpson – 8% each
Howard Cunningham, Red Forman and Tony Soprano – 4% each
Jim Anderson, Jack Arnold, Tom Bradford, Mike Brady, Steve Douglas, Hank Hill, Heathcliff Huxtable, Charles Ingalls, Steven Keaton and Ozzie Nelson all finished with no votes.

Now that we know who the most popular TV Dads are, it’s time to find out who the favorite Moms are. Make sure you cast your vote in the poll located to the right of the blog.

Until next time…from the booth.

Scary Political People

2011-12-27T20:08:00.001-06:00

This blog deals with a topic that I usually avoid like the plague – politics. You can count the number of times that I have mentioned the p-word in this blog on one hand. To me, politics is a necessary evil that I would just as soon never hear about. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. You can’t turn on television or the radio without being subjected to an avalanche of political posturing presented by scary political people. And with next year’s Presidential, recall and local elections looming, it’s only going to get worse. There will be a lot more scary political people.

Trust me, these political people are scary. Scary is an adjective that is defined as frightening or causing fear, and these people definitely frighten me. These people cause me fear for a multitude of reasons.

One obvious way is how they vehemently regurgitate their party’s rhetoric, concentrating on one specific issue that is, more often than not, taken out context. After being exposed to these people ad nauseum, they can become more than scary.

Another reason these people are scary is that they expect you to naively accept their mindless reciting of party talking points without even thinking. Just because they blindly believe whatever their party tells them, they arrogantly expect others to do the same. That’s scary.

What’s even scarier is that they become overbearing and pompous when you don’t agree with and march in lockstep with their parties’ ideologies. How dare you think for yourself or have a different opinion. The audacity!

It gets worse when these people go from being self-important and pretentious to being malicious and nasty. I don’t particularly like malicious, mean people. They are much worse than scary people.

I seriously believe these people hurt their political parties more than they help them. When someone is unpleasant and obnoxious, I am inclined to turn that person off and not listen to him or her, no matter what his or her point might be.

In my blog, “Rivalry or Hate?” I wrote that I had come to the realization that it wasn’t the Cub, Cardinal, Bear, Viking and Bull teams that I despise. I said that it was their media and fans that made me cringe when they won and rejoice when they lost.

I feel the same way about political zealots. When their party “wins” I cringe and when they “lose” I rejoice. Zealots, whether they are religious or political, tend to repulse people rather than attract them.

When it comes to religion, I prefer to try to practice rather than to preach. The same goes for politics with me. I am much more comfortable doing both that way.

And heaven forbid that you mix religion and politics. That’s when the political people are at their scariest. Bigotry wrapped in prayer is still bigotry.

I don’t intend on writing another blog concerning politics any time soon. I really didn’t want to write this one, but I like I said before, it is a necessary evil and the current political climate moved me to do so.

Here’s a closing thought for all the scary political people - “You don't have to blow out anybody else's candle to make yours shine brighter.” Quit being so scary. Please.

Until next time…from the booth.

A Koos Christmas Story

2011-12-24T06:58:00.000-06:00

On a bitter cold Saturday night, late December in 1976, the men of Koos Inc. gathered in the backroom of Mario’s Red Arrow Club on Sheridan Road in Kenosha. The reason for this get-together was a Union Christmas party. UFCW Local 73A was good enough to sponsor the much-appreciated gathering for the workforce from Koos. This night was going to be an event to be remembered. This celebration would be a first. Never before had the Union workers at Koos Inc. had an official Christmas function. Tonight that would all change.

The year before, not only was there no party, the employees had to work until 11:00 o’clock on Christmas Eve morning. Of course the beer that was smuggled into the plant created a somewhat cheerful atmosphere, but it still wasn’t a party. Not even the numerous pints of blackberry brandy purchased from the nearby Beer Depot could do the trick. It just wasn’t a party.

The people in management always had a nice little soiree each year, but nothing for the guys in the Union. This year was going to be different. The guys in the plant were finally going to have a bash of their own.

And what a bash it was!

The backroom at Mario’s Red Arrow Club was dimly lit, long and narrow, with a chest-high wall at one end that separated a small kitchen from the rest of the hall. This might have been the back of a smoke filled neighborhood bar, but it was perfect for this inaugural event.

The good people from UFCW had provided the guys from Koos with enough money for the hall, food, a keg of beer and a couple of bottles of hard liquor. Several of us had even brought festive holiday deserts. What more was needed? Let the party begin!

Because we were new to this Christmas party thing, most of us had neglected to bring a date. The only females present for the event were Ziggy Gutowski’s wife and the aunt of Danny Fliess who brought her two daughters. Other than that the guest list was strictly male.

It was still going to be quite a shindig, trust me.

While the sloppy joes warmed in the crock-pot and the hot dogs simmered in a large pot of oiling water, we decided to start playing cards. While Ted Nugent blared through the speakers hung on the walls, the collection of partygoers broke into two separate games of cards, one at each end of the room.

Located at the east end was a boisterous group of Koos veterans, consisting of Danny Fliess, the legendary Arno Schubert, Jim Weber, Munk Ekern, Harry Leipzig, along with several others. They were playing poker for cash and the shots of Wild Turkey were flying.

Joining me at the other end of the hall, near the kitchen area, were Chuckie Haubrich, Chuck Huck and some of the newer employees. Rather than gamble, we had opted to play drinking games where the loser had to guzzle a beer. The card playing was sloppy, but the suds were cold.

The party was in full swing and everyone was having a high-spirited time. That is until our group spotted a humongous can of black olives.
As we were attempting to get the can of olives open, the group from the east end informed us that they wanted some of the olives. The diminutive Chuck Huck put a handful on a paper plate and brought it over to them.

Evidently this was not good enough for them.

Several members of their contingent made their way over to our table and demanded the whole can of olives. We would have no part of that and we all grabbed a big handful and told them that they were all ours!

Seeing that we were not giving up the olives peacefully, the “east-enders” grabbed the can and made off with it and the remaining olives. We were outraged and shouted, “You want all the olives?” With that the war was on. Olives were flying from one end of the hall to the other.

Unfortunately, the olives were only the beginning. Soon cups of beer were being flung across the room. Being near the kitchen area, our group decided to “escalate” the battle. Using cooking tongs, we began plucking hot dogs from the boiling water and used them as projectiles in our efforts during this now epic battle. The frankfurters were flying!

This melee resembled a scene from any Three Stooges film. At this point it was pure chaos.

Then something happened that momentarily brought the frantic food fight to an abrupt stop. For some unknown reason, Chuckie Haubrich grabbed a big handful of raw ground beef, wadded into a lump the size of a baseball and hurled it across the hall at Arno Schubert’s oddly shaped head.

Before I go on, for those of you who don’t know Chuckie Haubrich, he possessed an extremely strong throwing arm. The man could throw a ping-pong ball through a brick wall.

Now back to the story.

Splat!!!! The sphere of uncooked ground beef had found its’ target – the right side of Arno’s scarred face. Chuckie Haubrich would have made Nolan Ryan proud with that toss.

Seeing what happened, we started chuckling as Arno staggered while trying to regain his bearings. It didn’t take long before everyone in the room was roaring with laughter. Well, everyone except for Arno.

With the glob of raw meat still stuck on his face, he picked up a pan up of orange Jell-O topped with whipped cream. Fuming, with the desert held at shoulder height, he unsteadily made his way over to our end of the room.

As he got closer, he spat out, “You think it’s funny?” Everyone continued to snicker, wondering if he would actually retaliate against Chuckie Haubrich. After all, he was the one who had tattooed him with the beefy missile. When he finally reached our cluster, Arno walked right by the 6’4” 250 pound Haubrich.

Instead, he turned to the 5’7” 150 pound Chuck Huck and hissed yet again, “You think it’s funny?” At that point you could have heard a pin drop.

Huck stared the irate German right in the eye and blurted out, “Hell ya it’s funny!”

You guessed it. Chuck Huck was now wearing the pan of orange Jell-O and whipped cream all over his head. Needless to say, the war was on again. Only, now cakes and various other creamy delights had been added to the arsenal.

When all was said and done, the backroom of Mario’s Red Arrow Club was declared a disaster area. Food was not only on the walls and floor, but on the ceiling as well. As we scraped our holiday meal off of our clothes, the manager of Mario’s kindly asked us to leave. Okay, maybe it wasn’t so kindly. He told us to get out and never come back.

It should be noted that the Union didn’t get the deposit back for the hall. And there was never another UFCW sponsored Christmas party. That Christmas party was the first and last for the Union guys at Koos. It was the only Christmas Party. Ever.

But what a bash it was!

May you all have a Happy Holiday season and a very Merry and Blessed Christmas. Until next time…from the booth.

Christmas Eve At Koos?

2011-12-21T21:02:00.000-06:00

On Wednesday December 24, 1975, 6:00 AM came much too early. Besides being ungodly cold, it was Christmas Eve and I was sitting on a picnic table in the filthy Jap Shack at Koos Inc. Something was wrong with this picture. Let me recap for you. It was way too early. It was bitter cold and I was working in an old and decrepit building with no heat. And most importantly, it was Christmas Eve morning. Yikes, how was I supposed to handle spending Christmas Eve at Koos?

The solution was simple. Drink alcohol.

Before you get the impression that I was some sort of juvenile delinquent with a drinking problem, please keep two things in mind. First of all, In 1975 it was legal to consume alcohol at the age of 18 in the state of Wisconsin. Secondly, isn’t it traditional to celebrate Christmas Eve by having a party featuring adult beverages? See, it makes perfect sense.

There was only one small detail. I was at work.

Admittedly, drinking while at work isn’t the brightest thing to do. Okay, it’s a pretty idiotic thing to do, but I wasn’t alone in this stupidity. It was actually a plant wide event that was planned the night before at Slim’s Tap after a city league basketball game. Everyone was instructed to bring their favorite spirits.

Hey, I was young and impressionable and everyone was doing it. Honest. Well, almost everyone.

On that particular Christmas Eve, everyone in the plant at 4500 13^th Court was consuming alcohol; even the supervisors. Everyone, that is, but the iconic Arno Schubert. It seems the crusty old Kraut had picked the holidays to go on the wagon. Who would have guessed?

After punching in, the group of us trudged across the ice-covered yard armed with brown paper bags that concealed every type of booze imaginable. Beer, wine, whiskey… You name it, we had it. My contribution to the party was my favorite flavor of beer – Pabst Blue Ribbon.

At first we tried to be discrete around the bosses, we weren’t quite sure how they would react to us drinking on the job. We were afraid of potential repercussions. Those fears quickly disappeared when bagging supervisor Russell Thompson offered us a hit off of the bottle of Wild Turkey he pulled out of his coveralls.

The party was on.

Eventually all of the liquor we smuggled into the plant was consumed. That, however, didn’t stop the crew at Koos. We would simply pass the hat and send Sven Sievert over the railroad tracks to the Beer Depot on Sheridan Road for pints of blackberry brandy. When those were polished off, the process was repeated. Sort of like shampooing your hair.

Over and over again…

Ultimately the intoxicating refreshment took its toll on the employees. Forklifts were traveling a little slower and production began to sputter. The only one who wanted to work was the tee-totaling Arno. But as drunk as we were, nobody really was paying any attention to the foul-mouthed German.

At one point, Harry Leipzig turned to me and announced that he was going to the Jap Shack to take a piss. He never returned. Later he was discovered passed out on a picnic table. Without Harry, Line 3 needed someone to seal bags. Munk Ekern graciously volunteered to help out and keep production going.

Regrettably, the result of the gallant gesture was less than spectacular because Munk never actually sealed any bags. You see, I was the bagger and looking back, the whole scene was somewhat comical. The conversation went something like this:

Drunk Puddles (me): “Okay Munk, here they come.”

Drunker Munk: “Wait Puddles, you seal.”

Drunk Puddles: “Okay, but who’s gonna run the bagger?”

Drunker Munk: “You are.”

Drunk Puddles: “Okay, then who’s gonna seal?”

Drunker Munk: “You are, Puddles.”

That nonsensical exchange went on for about five minutes. Eventually, Munk would stumble off to join Harry in the Jap Shack. Did Line 3 ever start up again on that drunken Christmas Eve at Koos? I honestly don’t remember. Things were kind of fuzzy at that point.

Before you knew it, it was almost noon and the second shift crew was arriving to a plant full of intoxicated first-shifters. There were guys spread out all over the plant, a small number were standing, others were sitting and a few were laying down. But nobody was working.

Not even Arno. By this time he had given up hope of getting anything accomplished. He was just standing against the wall fuming with his arms folded across his chest and a crooked frown on his face. He was so upset he wasn’t even cursing anymore.

When the clock finally hit noon, we wobbled out of the plant and went home, having spent Christmas Eve at Koos. Remarkably, the alcohol impaired six-hour shift ended without incident. Although, not much work got done, no one got in trouble or was hurt. Everyone was fine.

Until the following Monday.

Despite the supervisors being cool with our Christmas Eve party, plant manager Frank Niebling was not. No one was quite sure how he found out, but he did. And he was furious.

Determined to show us that this type of behavior was not acceptable, he called our union steward, Danny Fliess into his office. He immediately told Danny that he was going to make an example of him and proceeded to suspend him for a week with no pay.

When Danny objected and tried to plead his case, Frank exploded. Pointing a finger in the startled union steward’s face, he blurted out, “Don’t think for a minute that you guys can get away with this shit just because I wasn’t here!”

Unwisely, Danny explained that nobody know he wasn’t there on Christmas Eve. Just like that his suspension became 2 weeks without play.

* * * * * * *

Stop back Saturday for another classic from the Koos Vault, the legendary, “A Koos Christmas Story”. More Arno, more Harry, more Munk and more Danny. Oh ya, Arno’s not on the wagon in this story. You won’t want to miss it.

Until next time…from the booth.

Survivor Season 23 Finale

2011-12-19T07:43:00.000-06:00

This is it, your final Official Survivor: South Pacific Recap Trilogy for Season 23. Each one us will be concentrating on a specific portion of the 3-hour extravaganza.

Mary Beth’s 2Cents – Finale Recap:

With all the drama and splendor of a Hollywood blockbuster, the last episode of this season of Survivor began. First, Jeff Probst narrated a moving recap of the game thus far. Then, with drums swelling in the background, we were treated to a montage of notable quotes from this season, which finally led into the last episode. The prelude was appropriate because this was a quite good and very dramatic season.

Right away there was business to be done and we were quickly swept off to the Redemption Island challenge. This time it was for keeps – the loser went to the jury and the winner would get sent back into the tribe. It was Ozzy vs. Brandon, as they had to hang from a post for what seemed like an eternity.

Frankly, it pained me to watch this. The foothold they were given was a mere quarter of an inch thick and their toes were being twisted in some truly unnatural ways. Brandon gave it his all and there was a moment where Ozzy almost lost it but gravity and mangled feet worked against Brandon and he fell. Ozzy was headed back to the game having survived the longest time at Redemption ever!

Ozzy's presence at camp seemed to send everyone into a tizzy. Albert started “strategizing” which, for him, meant talking to everyone about anything and making no sense at all. Sophie stated her loathing of Ozzy and that led Ozzy to spill the beans on Coach to Rick.

Then something really weird happened. RICK SPOKE! I swear I'm not making this up! There were actual words coming out of his mouth! So… off they all go to the first Immunity Challenge.

In this challenge, they had to hold onto a pulley that made a plank balance and on that plank they had to build a house of wooden cards. Not as easy as it looked. Sophie got a little cocky when she told them she built houses of cards at home in her free time and even had a book on how to make them. My, what an interesting hobby… (Insert sarcasm here).

Anyway, Sophia was building a great card house but didn't have enough to make it high enough because of her fancy-shmancy design. Then she knocked it all down and started demanding that Albert leave his and come over there to pick up hers! Excuse me? What? Not sure what she was thinking but he didn't listen to her anyway. Ozzy managed to build a house high enough and did a little happy dance when he won.

At tribal Ozzy called Sophie a big whiney brat, which made her break down into uncontrollable sobbing for a while. She pulled it together. So, it was bye bye Rick who wouldn't give Coach a hug on the way out. Boo hoo.

Then there were four. Ozzy, Albert, Coach and Sophie. Off to the last challenge… the one that counts and this one was a DOOZY! It was a ginormous flower shaped obstacle course and they had to run through it to collect bags of puzzle pieces and then put that puzzle together.

Oz was off to a quick and steady lead followed closely by Sophie. Albert, for whatever reason, kept choosing the exact same path as Sophie which made no sense because he had to keep losing time waiting for her. It's not like there wasn't other areas or paths he could have taken. Like I said, this thing was huge!

Coach floundered around like so much tumbleweed. He couldn't get it together. I thought he almost got stuck in a mesh tunnel at one point. So head to head, Ozzy and Sophie were at the puzzle pieces and once Sophie figured out the first piece there was no looking back. Ozzy tried to cheat off her table but in the end, Sophie won the last immunity.

So, it was back to Tribal Council. Ozzy, knowing full well his fate was sealed, actually took it all in good stride when he was voted off. I have to give it the Oz man. He did give it a good fight and made this season interesting. But I still can't stand him.

So, at the end of the day, it was Coach, Sophie and Albert sitting on the hot seats and facing “THE JURY”! (Music swells, distant tribal drums, and a beautiful island sun setting behind them. Ha! Okay that really didn't happen!)

The Booth’s Bits – Final Tribal Council Recap:

The Final Tribal Council began with each of the three finalists making an opening statement. Traditionally not much is said during this segment and tonight was no different. Sure, Albert blasphemed, talking about a “higher power” and the overly pompous Coach pontificated which caused eyes in the jury to roll, but basically it was blah, blah, blah.

Then came the part of the Finale that I look forward to most – the jury taking their shots at the finalists.

Ozzy led off by basically reaming each of them out. He told Sophie she was a spoiled brat and then told Albert he did nothing to deserve being there. Ozzy gave Coach credit for using his experience to get to the finals and then called him out about being a “Christian man” playing with honor. This would be a reoccurring theme.

Jim was up next and he asked Albert why the other two didn’t deserve to win. Albert spewed some nonsense about how he and Sophie carried Coach to the finals. Really, Albert?

Dawn asked Sophie what her strategy was. Sophie explained that she wished she was a guy because the guy always picked two young unassuming girls that he could go to the finals with and that is why she picked Coach. She said he fit that criteria. Huh? Did Sophie just call Coach a chick?

Cowboy Rick’s line of questioning made it quite clear that he was pissed. He accused Albert of stabbing him in the back and yelled at Sophie until she almost started crying. Again. He did make Coach apologize after bashing him for claiming to be a man of honor.

In my opinion, the troubled Brandon was the star of the Final Tribal Council. He pretty much left the overly sensitive Sophie alone, concentrating on the way Coach and Albert used God to advance them in the game. His best moment came when he beat down Albert, forcing him to give a yes or no answer to a question about lying.

The lovely Whitney was straight and to the point, not bothering to ask any questions. She told Albert that he was sleazy and told Coach that he used his “Christianity” in a less than honorable way. She then told Sophie she was the most condescending person she had ever met. This made Sophie blubber. Again.

Edna didn’t ask any questions either as she continued the using of the “Christianity” theme. Only, she used big words and impressive phrases like, “inherit ingredient” and “the best way to manipulate is through religious intimidation.” She talked real good.

Pretty boy Keith asked Coach why he never used the Hidden Immunity Idol. In the middle of Coach’s feeble attempt at an answer, Sophie interrupted and pretty much threw him under the bus. Well, at least she wasn’t weeping…

The final juror to speak was the nebbish Cochran, who also chose to focus his attention on Coach. The subject of playing with honor and being a “Christian man”, once again surfaced. I have to give Cochran credit; he had Coach begging for forgiveness when he was done with him. I wonder if Coach’s religion has confession?

With the interrogation was completed, all that was left was the final vote for season 23. Who did the jury award the $1,000,000 to? Was it Sophie? Was it Albert? Or was it Coach. Only God knew. And Jeff Probst.

Jamie’s Prognosis – The Results and Reunion Show Recap:

Does anyone remember the days when Jeff Probst used to make a dramatic exit from tribal council? He would pretend to hop on a helicopter and then flash forward to presumably the same helicopter dropping him off at the reunion show moments later, where the cast would be sitting around the campfire awaiting him like he had just stepped out for a bathroom break.

And then we viewers at home would say, ”Oh wait, they are all clean and have gained thirty pounds what the? YES it was schmaltzy over the top drama, but now Probst just grabs the voting urn and bustles through some fake shrubbery. I liked the drama. And hey… when did Survivor get it’s own band?

Yet again I digress. So tonight’s episode showed a cleaned up fattened up final three - “Hall of Famer” Coach Benjamin Wade, Albert and Sophie. OK, here is where my personal bias jumps in. Ya’ll know by now that I love Coach. I haven’t deviated from that one iota all season.

Sophie may have won more immunity challenges, but her social game was poor. Answer this question honestly. You are at a party, whom do you want to hang out with? Sophie? I think not! She is the ultimate coattail rider, and she rode on the coat tails of Coach.

Survivor is a game of physical prowess to some degree, but it is mostly a game of social skill! With all of that said, much to my dismay and surprise, Sophie won Survivor. I can only assume this was a major case of sour grapes on the part of the jury because really none of them seemed to like her bossy self.

As Paul’s astute Aunt Janet said; Sophie is not a good representative of the female player. And she needs to know that it’s important to shave and accessorize well when one is on TV. Enough said. She doesn’t need my advice or criticism. She just won a million bucks AND she’s a medical student.

The winner of the $100,000 fan fave prize went to Ozzy. What followed was a long and uncomfortable diatribe in which Ozzy extolled the virtues of Ozzy. Could this guy be any more full of self-love? DUDE you are a surfer, which to me means you are unemployed.

You recently sported a set of pigtails that would make Pippi Longstockings AND Cindy Brady jealous! And you’ve done porn on the Playboy channel! You can swing from trees and live off the land like nobody else. I will give you that. But as a human being, you’re kind of a shmuck. You’re going to blow through that hundred grand in no time flat, and then guess what? Surf’s up Oz.

The next player that Probst focused on in the Reunion Show was Cochran. This guy has a serious love of Survivor that may have extended above and beyond what we viewers at home knew. Apparently he even wrote a paper at Harvard that compares the Survivor jury system to our American jury system.

I was a fan of Cochran as he played the game. I thought he would have gone farther with all of his Survivor knowledge and intelligence (he is NOT nebbish PV)! But as I said before, Survivor is a social game and he was up against it from day one.

Probst asked him during the show if he had found a girlfriend and he said no and encouraged anyone interested to “just come at me”. I hope he finds love, and he should. After all, this is a world in which the Kardashians have their own TV show. Anything is possible Cochran.

This season, Probst didn’t even bother talking to the back row. He pointed out that Keith and Whitney were now dating (say it with me “awwwwww…”) I just love it when beautiful people get together!! I am sure that Papa Bear, who at breaks was hopping around the stage like a crazy person, would have loved some airtime. But he didn’t get it.

However, Brandon Hantz did. And I finally could understand and completely sympathize with this poor lost soul. I mean, none of his family was there EXCEPT his Uncle Russell, who was basically there to criticize him.

Probst said that he would like to see a match up between the Hantz’s. But let’s face it. There would be no match. Brandon would just give Uncle Russell his necklace and it would be a done deal.

I would like to think that in the end good overcomes evil, but I am sorry to say that in the game of Survivor this isn’t always true. Lost moment on the reunion show? Mikayla confronting stalker Brandon about his creepy behavior with her. She deserved at least one minute to let him have it!

And finally, there is my big disappointment of the evening; the fact that Coach lost. I still think that the dragon slayer played a great game. I still think that he deserved to win. He kept that alliance together and I think he deserves his own reality show! Maybe something on “E”. Before the Kardashians. Love you Coach.

At the end of the show we learned that next season we will see something exciting, groundbreaking, cutting edge, avant-garde, different, fresh, innovative, newfangled, unique, unusual.

Yes, the next season will have two tribes sharing the same island space OMG!!! February CANNOT come soon enough for me! I want to take a moment to thank my dear friend and fellow Survivor Geek Paul Vagnoni for asking me to be a guest bloggist along with Mary Beth. I’ve been a fan of his blog for a few years now, so it was quite an honor!

* * * * * * *

There you have it! Sophie won the million and Ozzy took home the hundred grand. I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Hopefully, I will have recovered by February, because that’s when Survivor: New World kicks off!

I would like to thank Mary Beth and Jamie for adding their 2Cents and Prognosis each week. It has been a blast and I look forward to doing it again. God willing, they will both join me for the 24^th season. Sorry, I had to.

Until next time…from the booth.

I Finally Figured It Out

2011-12-16T11:08:00.000-06:00

On April 21, 1970, as I walked to Lance Junior High School, I was a very sad 12-year-old kid. Before leaving for school, I had watched Ray Rayner show a clip of Randy Hundley being run over at home plate by the Cardinals’ Carl Taylor. The collision resulted in Hundley missing three months of the season. I hated Carl Taylor.

The next time baseball made me sad was my junior year in high school. It was December 6, 1973. The Chicago Cubs traded Hundley to the Minnesota Twins for George Mitterwald. I might have been 16 years old, but I didn’t get it. He was my favorite player and the Cubs traded him away for some guy nicknamed “the Baron”.

Just a few weeks earlier the Cubs had traded Fergie Jenkins to the Texas Rangers. Five days after unloading Hundley they sent Ron Santo across town to the White Sox. It was at that point that I decided to quit being a fan of the Cubs. I couldn’t take it anymore.

Fortunately for me, in 1970 the Seattle Pilots had moved to Milwaukee and became the Brewers. I had a new team to follow! My blue baseball cap no longer had a red “C” on it; it now sported a bright yellow “M”.

During the summer of ’74 I got the autographs of George “Boomer” Scott and Johnny Briggs at Burger Chef. The next year, my senior year of high school, I skipped school to attend opening day and watch Hammerin’ Hank Aaron play his first game in County Stadium as a Brewer. I was hooked.

When I graduated in 1975, I was a diehard fan of the Milwaukee Brewers and the Chicago Cubs were a distant memory, a memory that had left me with a bad taste in my mouth. Over the years that bad taste would develop into a full-fledged loathing.

The Brewers were my team from that point on. My undying loyalty for the Brew Crew has never waned. The Brewers never forced me to do what the Cubs had done back in 1973. Not once did I even consider changing my allegiance to another team.

Not until this year. After completing their most successful campaign since the 1982 World Series season, the Brewers have done something to make me question my blind faithfulness.

What could they have done to shake my dedication?

Once again, it appears that my favorite player, Prince Fielder, is going to be plucked from my chosen team. Not since Randy Hundley have I had such an affinity for a baseball player. Not with Paul Molitor. Not with Geoff Jenkins. Not even with Robin Yount. It’s been Prince and only Prince.

I know it’s not the fault of the Brewer’s that he is leaving; free agency has radically changed the game since my days as a Cub fan. Things are different nowadays. Milwaukee is the smallest market in the Major Leagues and can’t compete financially with New York, Philadelphia and, dare I say, Chicago. I understand all of that.

Unfortunately, the kid in me doesn’t.

As a fat little kid, I became enamored with Randy Hundley because he was a catcher. I always got stuck playing catcher because I was fat and slow. That’s why I became so attached to the “Rebel”, he was a catcher and so was I.

Similarly, my fondness for Prince came about because he too is a “man of size”. When he first came up on June 13, 2005, there was talk of the potential of him becoming a star. There were also many cruel and unkind comments about his weight. Insults like fat-ass and lazy slob. People were content to overlook his ability and talent because of his size. But Prince proved these insensitive detractors wrong and has since become an elite superstar.

And now he’s going to leave my Brewers and play for another team. And that makes the kid in me sad. Again.

At least I have finally figured out that’s the reason I am mad at the Brewers. Like I said, I know it’s not their fault, but the kid in me doesn’t. That is why I’m going to be a fan of Prince, no matter which team signs him.

Even if it’s with the Cubs.

Now don’t think for one minute that I am going to be a Cub fan. Not on your life. That’s just not going to happen. Ever. I will still be a Brewer fan, but first and foremost, I will be a Prince Fielder fan.

A friend of mine recently gave me this sage advice, “Cheer for players, not laundry”. It made perfect sense. That way I can cheer for Prince even if the Cubs happen to be the team doing his laundry. That’s something even the kid in me can understand. I finally figured it out.

Until next time…from the booth.

Survivor 23.14

2011-12-14T23:18:00.000-06:00

Here’s your Official Survivor: South Pacific Recap Trilogy for week 14:

Mary Beth’s 2Cents:

Okay, so the first part of tonight's episode was pretty exciting. I was so rooting for Edna to take out Ozzy in the Redemption Island challenge. Man, oh man, she came close. They had to put together a puzzle stack of cubes making sure that no one side had a repeating color. She very nearly had it but Ozzy is like Robocop. He's just plain indestructible.

What is it about him anyway? I suppose that normally when someone constantly excels at everything they do, that would be someone to look up to, to idolize. I mean, starving on an island? He can catch lots of fish. Need warmth? He can build a fire. He can survive in the wild as if he was born there. They could pack up and leave him there and he would be fine for the rest of his life. But I can't stand him! Must be his complete lack of humility. That and absolutely no sense of humor that I have seen. But I digress…

After that, Albert did a lot of blabbering about how he was a good player and how Rick was not and how Sophie was too smart and then more about how he was a good player and did a lots of great things in the game. Wait… What? Lemme think… What great things did Albert do? Hmm… Still thinking… Maybe voting the way Coach tells you to every single time is a great thing? I dunno… Can't think of anything else he did.

Albert spent some time trying to talk to almost everybody about some kind of strategy. Brandon irked Coach by showing a little Hantz and getting a bit pushy but they hugged it out like real men and all was well. But I digress…

At the Immunity Challenge it was up the wall to get puzzle pieces and down the wall to put them together. Brandon was like a rocket, shooting up and down that wall with lightning speed. Lil bugger won the challenge too. Won some pizza too! In what he called a “strategic move” he chose Rick to eat it with him. Not quite sure what that strategy was but there it was.

Rick let it slip over the pepperoni that Albert wanted to get Brandon out. (“Let it slip over the pepperoni”. Sounds a little dirty. I apologize. But I'm leaving it in! LOL) Brandon had one of his patented Brandon Hantz freak out moments and confronted Albert. Then they hugged it out like real men do. (A lot of that going on lately!) But I digress…

Finally in what was probably the most boneheaded move ever – Brandon GAVE Albert his Immunity Necklace. GAVE IT TO HIM!! In a show of good faith and trust and blah blah blabbity blah! He was reassured that he was safe right up until the moment they voted his pathetic whiney emotional butt OFF to Redemption Island.

Predictions: Next time, Ozzy will win the final Redemption challenge. There's no way Brandon will beat him and no way they're not bringing Ozzy back after all this time. Final three? Coach, Ozzy and Rick. Winner? I hate to say it but it will be Ozzy. BUT I think it should be Coach. All Ozzy had to do was fish and do one challenge per week. Coach had to actually outwit the rest of these dunderheads.

Jamie’s Prognosis:

It’s appropriate that the finale for Survivor always takes place on the Lord’s Day of Sunday, because the Lord is clearly the “other” player in this game this season. This week’s episode began with a prayer amongst the final five as they spiritually celebrated the ouster of Edna, which was clearly the work of the Lord.

You know, I consider myself to be quite spiritual. I believe that God is all-powerful and all knowing and nothing happens that He does not know about. But this week I began to feel that God was being used to win a million dollars. And I didn’t like it.

Anyhoooo, the first order of business was the duel on Redemption Island between Edna and Cockzy, who of course didn’t bat a man lash at the “competition” that Edna presented. And I wasn’t necessarily disagreeing with him. She is a terrible player. However, in a surprise move she actually gave the Ozmeister a run for his money as they both struggled to basically solve a Rubix cube puzzle.

The player bystanders from Te Tuna were tossing out encouragement and help to her, but once again Edna fell short of the mark and the Snozzy won again. Ugh!! I, along with the rest of Te Tuna let out a silent shreak of “crrrraaaaaappppppppppp”!!

Back at Te Tuna, the remaining five went into a frenzy of game play as they began to discuss who should go next. In short, Albert wanted Sophie out but Sophie wanted Brandon out and Coach was becoming more annoyed with Brandon, and Brandon was still loyal to Coach and Albert and Rick was just Rick, agreeing with everyone.

Then came the Immunity Challenge, and something amazing and unexpected happened. Brandon won both immunity AND a pizza delivered via Jet Ski. Divine intervention? Perhaps. I can’t really explain it any other way, can you? It seemed like kind of a hard challenge that involved both physical and mental skill and it made me think that tomorrow I am going to point to heaven a bunch of times like Brandon does just to see what happens.

Back at camp, more scrambling and religiosity ensued and now Albert was on the chopping block. Sophie, tiring of Albert’s overbearing ways, successfully stirred the soup and in short order the entire tribe was set against him. Or so it seemed. You see, Albert knew that poor Brandon is as malleable as well chewed bubble gum. He went right at him and basically played poor Brandon like a fiddle.

He said all of the words that were needed (not that many were necessary), and within a few short minutes Brandon looked Albert in the eye and said that he would give Albert his immunity necklace. Say what??

And this is where the Lord jumped in to the game play again with all of his almighty power. Brandon went to his new father figure Coach and told him his decision.

Coach looked very uncomfortable. Brandon explained that God had spoken to him, and that he was confident in his decision because he believed in Coach’s loyalty to him. Ouch!

It then got even murkier with talk of forgiveness and the will of God. When Brandon told Coach that he knew that this is what God wanted them to do, Coach pulled a “whoa there little buddy” Skipper to Gilligan stance, explaining that “this is what God wants YOU to do”.

Then Coach humbly bowed down and asked for the holy spirit of divine wisdom to guide him in his betrayal. I was on the edge of my seat… Would God turn against his most loyal little island buddy?

Like a lamb lead to slaughter, at Tribal Council Brandon wasted no time in giving up his Immunity Necklace to Albert. Everyone looked stunned EXCEPT for Brandon who tried to explain his loyalties and brought up his past as a former gang member.

This poor kid just wants to be liked. And I truly loved it when Probst laid down the challenge to Albert that if he was the good Christian man that he is claiming to be he would give the necklace back to poor lost Brandon. He, of course, did not and Brandon was voted off.

After his ouster, Coach and Brandon embraced and Coach said unto Brandon “It’s God’s will, now go forth and win Redemption”. It was a very Charlton Heston as Moses-like moment and I was both moved and disturbed.

We shall see how the Lord worketh this Sunday. I suspecteth that Albert shall not be forgiven of his trespasses and shalt pay for his sins by being the next one chosen by God to go home.

The Booth’s Bits:

The Third Commandment reads: Thou Shalt Not Take the Name of the Lord in Vain. Hello Rick. Hello Albert. Hello Coach. HELLO BRANDON. What in God’s name is wrong with you people?!? Sorry, I had to say that. Do you honestly believe that God gives a damn who you vote off on some dumb reality show set in the South Pacific? Do you really? Come on, you guys aren’t really that delusional are you?

Who do these people think they are putting all that pressure on God?

Earlier in the week, Albert Pujols signed with the Angels and his wife said, “It’s just like God to put us on a team called the Angels.” I thought I had heard everything. Really, Deidre Pujols. Ya, God is a real rascal, isn’t he? Next He will put Prince Fielder on the Kansas City Royals because he is royalty. What’s wrong with people?

However, Rick, Albert, Coach and Brandon make Deidre Pujols look like a rank amateur when it comes to blasphemy. They are in a league of their own.

Was I the only one waiting for a giant lightning bolt to come shooting out of the sky and hit Albert? Was it just happenstance that the Immunity Necklace fell off his neck as Brandon was being banished to Redemption Island? I think not. Perhaps it was, dare I say, divine intervention. Hmm?

And you Coach… After all of that of that sanctimonious supplication you want us to believe that God really told you to blatantly lie to the mentally fragile Brandon? You should be ashamed of yourself, you sacrilegious boob.

Rick, you’re as bad as the rest of them. You got right in there and Kumbaya’d it up with the rest of them. Your time would have been better spent praying for a mustache trimmer and some new sox. A cowboy with black sox… Really?

And finally there is the addled Brandon, the final member of Coach’s Christian Coalition. Hopefully Ozzy will make quick work of you in the Redemption Island duel. That way you can go to find a nice dark room where you can lie down and ask what God wants you to do next. Maybe he will have you cure world hunger or Aids…

At least those four hypocrites will be well prepared for an eternity of damnation. They all have a lot of experience being in a real hot place wearing raggedy clothes.

That leaves monkey boy Ozzy and the doe-eyed Sophie to vie for the million dollars. Unless… What if Producer Mark Burnett pulled off the greatest twist of all time and brings in Tim Tebow for the Finale? YES! Wouldn’t it be totally spectacular to see Ozzy get Tebowed? Oh man, I can’t wait for Sunday night.

Until next time…from the booth.

American Idols

2011-12-11T11:45:00.000-06:00

Last night a friend of mine posted a link on my facebook wall to a story that Milwaukee Brewer outfielder Ryan Braun had tested positive for performance enhancing drugs. Disbelief and alarm were my first reactions. Before I could register any other feelings, a Cub fan posted a rather snarky comment, reveling in the apparent dire straits facing Braun and the Brewers. I responded by calling the author of the remark a derogatory name along with an aggressive comment of my own. The back and forth continued briefly before I finally put a halt to the ignorance by simply deleting the initial post.

I spent the rest of the evening monitoring tweets on Twitter from national baseball scribes and reading online reports regarding the situation. It was remarkable the amount of attention being paid to this “breaking news”. Sometime after midnight, I went to bed, exhausted with the whole ordeal.

When I awoke this morning and turned on the radio I was greeted with a Chicago talk show giddy with the fact that the potential 50-game suspension of Braun because it was great news for the Cubs and their attempts to once again regains relevance.

The show’s young producer brought up the point that MLB had not yet announced a suspension and that there was an appeal in process. The host admitted that he hadn’t heard that. Seemingly, he was content to go with the sexier piece being put out there by that last bastion of integrity, ESPN.

Why let facts get in the way of a good story?

Having had enough of the one-sided journalism, I went up the dial to listen to a fantasy football show out of Chicago. Bad move. The first thing I heard were a few smarmy remarks about Braun by host Harry Teinowitz. Yes, he is the same Harry Teinowitz who was arrested in March for drunken driving and subsequently suspended by WMVP 1000, an ESPN station.

How does that saying go? People in glass houses…

After turning the radio off, it finally dawned on me what the problem is. It wasn’t athletes breaking rules or doing bad things. Nor was it the media sensationalizing every misstep a sports figure might make. No, none of these are the problem.

The problem is the American public. It’s you and me. We idolize these athletes and the teams they play on and then put them on pedestals. They become so important to us that our world revolves around them. It’s true when you think about it.

We schedule our lives so that we don’t miss “the game” and we spend embarrassing amounts of money on sports memorabilia. I do it and so does most of America. Let’s be honest with ourselves.

Then when one of our idols breaks a rule or steps afoul of the law, we are horrified and outraged. This is especially true if they happen to play on the team of a hated rival.

And when the media reports every minute detail of a celebrity athlete’s wrongdoing, they are doing it for one reason. We want to hear about it. They are only giving us what we desire. Every gory, gut-wrenching item. It’s what the American public wants.

With today’s technology and social media being so prevalent, this information is dispersed at a mind-boggling speed. Unfortunately, often times it is before the facts have been substantiated. But, once again, it’s what we want. Give us the dirt and give it to us quick.

I’m not about to preach to anyone. God knows that I am as guilty as anyone of all of this. I’m not casting any stones. Besides, I live in a glass house.

What I am going to do is make a concerted effort to put more of an emphasis on what is really important in life. God, family and friends are infinitely more important than any athlete. Even Prince Fielder.

We can all make better choices when it comes to choosing role models. Perhaps Charles Barkley put it best, “I’m not a role model… Just because I dunk a basketball doesn’t mean I should raise your kids.

Until next time…from the booth.

A Brilliant Career Tarnished

2011-12-10T11:45:00.000-06:00

On March 5, 2008, Brett Lorenzo Favre retired from the Green Bay Packers and the NFL. On July 2, 2008 he came out of retirement and nine days later asked for his unconditional release. Instead, the Packers traded him to the New York Jets on August 4, 2008. On February 11, 2009 Favre informed the Jets that he was once again retiring. On April 28, 2009 the Jets released him from his contract, allowing him to sign anywhere he wanted. August 18, 2009 Favre once again came out of retirement and signed with the Minnesota Vikings. Finally, on January 17, 2011, Favre officially filed his retirement papers with the NFL.

Besides his propensity for keeping all of America guessing whether or not he is going to play, Favre had a few other blemishes during his illustrious and storied career.

Early in the 2008 season, Jay Glazer of Fox Sports reported that Favre gave the Detroit Lions a lengthy scouting report on Green Bay’s offensive schemes before the Packers played the Lions in the second game of the season. There were no denials from Lions coaches regarding these allegations.

In 2010, the NFL investigated Favre for allegedly sexting and leaving inappropriate voice messages for Jets sideline host Jenn Sterger during the 2008 season. He was found not to have violated the NFL’s personal conduct code, but was fined $50,000 for failing to cooperate with the investigation.

This past week there were numerous reports that Favre would listen to the Chicago Bears if they contacted him after the injury to Jay Cutler and the less than stellar performances of Caleb Hanie in his first two starts. The Bears lost both of those games with Hanie contributing six interceptions. Mercifully, the Bears did not reach out to Favre to come out of retirement.

I say mercifully because the quarterback had done enough to tarnish his brilliant NFL career. With his skills greatly diminished and his body significantly broken down, playing for the Bears would have only added to the besmirching of his reputation.

The purpose of listing all of the dates of when Favre retired and then subsequently came out of retirement was to establish a timeline of when his legacy started losing some of it’s luster among his legions of fans.

Having witnessed Favre’s first moment of glory with the Packers in person, I was one of those fans. I was there September 27, 1992, when he tossed a 35-yard TD pass to Kitrick Taylor with 32 seconds left in the game, sealing a dramatic come-from-behind victory for the Packers over the Cincinnati Bengals.

Today I no longer am able to count myself as a fan of number 4. The talk of the Bears being potentially interested in Favre made me cringe. It also got me thinking about when he began falling out of favor with me.

Looking back, it wasn’t when he left the Packers and started his much-documented period of flip-flopping between retiring and making comebacks. It wasn’t when he was doing his Judas Iscariot routine with the Lions or even when he was sending pictures of little Brett to Ms. Sterger.

No, it happened much earlier. The date that I began to question my infatuation with Favre was January 6, 2002. More specifically, it occurred with 2:42 left in the fourth quarter of the Packers 34-25 victory over the New York Giants.

That is when he changed the play called in the huddle and flopped to the ground so Michael Strahan of the Giants could record his record-breaking sack. The play looked questionable because the Packers were leading 34-25 and Favre didn’t have a blocker in front of him.

Brett Favre Laying Down For Michael Strahan

Some joked that Favre’s flop was his worst acting performance since his stiff cameo in the movie “There’s Something About Mary”. Packer players weren’t joking about the play.

Teammates said Favre called a run in the huddle. The quarterback insisted he changed the play to a naked bootleg to catch the Giants off guard. After the game Packer linemen were rather tight-lipped about the play.

Tight end Bubba Franks had the blocking assignment on Strahan on the play. “That was called as a running play,” Franks said. “I don’t know if it was a bad snap or what. I was run blocking. I didn’t know it was a pass.”

“We wanted to avoid that sack,” right tackle Mark Tauscher said. “I know Earl Dotson and the offensive line as a group wanted to keep that from happening.”

When asked about the sack, Packers center Mike Flanagan, also irritated about Strahan’s gift, said: “That’s not something I’m talking about. Go ask Brett.”

Of course Favre denied that he gave Strahan the sack. That’s what he does best - deny things. He is always in denial. He never does anything wrong. He just shrugs his shoulders with that boyish smirk on his face.

It was on January 6, 2002 when I first started to suspect that Brett Lorenzo Favre cared more about himself than his teammates. It was on January 6, 2002 when I first questioned the integrity of Brett Lorenzo Favre. For me, it was on January 6, 2002 that the brilliant career of Brett Lorenzo Favre first became tarnished.

Until next time…from the booth.

Survivor 23.13

2011-12-08T05:31:00.000-06:00

Here’s your Official Survivor: South Pacific Recap Trilogy for week 13:

Mary Beth’s 2Cents:

Well, color me disappointed. My little Cochran is no more. Sent last week to Redemption Island, he bravely battled the evil Oz and damn near won but it was not to be. Ozzy triumphed once again and lives on at Redemption. Cochran, my Cochran. He gave a nice little speech though and, on behalf of Survivor geeks everywhere, I salute him. So, he didn't win. He will still go down as one of the most interesting characters in Survivor history.

Back at Upolu, Edna was on the outs. It was made clear to her last week that she was the next to go and she wasn't taking the news very well. There was a slight delay in her ultimate fate though because it was time for the appearance of the cast's relatives.

Man, I was hoping. Please, I said to myself, please let Russell Hantz walk out here. But again… disappointment… sort of. Brandon's father, Russell's brother, was there to spend time with Brandon.

Coach's brother was there too, as was Albert's mom, Rick's wife, Edna's sister, and Sophie's daddy. They didn't much airtime this time. Coach, Brandon and Albert got to spend extra time with their loved ones but had to spend it with Oz on Redemption.

Coach quickly made a pact with Ozzy to take him to the final two if they get that far. Ozzy was all over that and, actually, that would be an exciting final two but I just can't stand Ozzy and, maybe, hopefully, Edna can beat him in next week's Redemption challenge.

Another thing we learned is that weirdness and deception runs in the Hantz family. It runs deep. Brandon's dad looked like he wanted to thump him on the head when Brandon told him he would give up a place in the finals if it meant going against his beliefs.

Now, normally, I'd say that was a stand up thing to do, except Brandon's beliefs are so off the wall weird that it's hard to understand exactly what he's standing up for! Then his dad tries to bully Coach into taking Brandon all the way. I'm not sure but at one point I thought I heard the words, “My dad can beat up your dad” being spoken. I might have misheard that. Or made that up.

Edna gave it the good old dead man walking college try and argued that Brandon was a lunatic whom no one really argued with her about but, in the end, she was gone. You could hear her sobbing as she took that long dark walk to Redemption.

So the original five are the final five, as they planned. Now let the feeding frenzy begin. They will eat each other alive trying to secure a spot for themselves. Out of these five I predict that Sophie and Rick are the next to go.

Then Brandon, unless Ozzy or Edna come back. If Ozzy comes back, it will be Brandon. If Edna comes back, it will be Edna. Albert will be next, leaving Coach and Ozzy at the end. Unless Coach gets wise and realizes he cannot take Ozzy to the end. He has to cut him off at the knees, which will make Coach one of the best players of this game ever.

Is it too late to get Cochran back? Can he get a do-over? No? Ah, well…

Jamie’s Prognosis:

An Episode of Lost Opportunities!

Well the family reunion episode has come and gone and nope… there was no “Russell Resurrection”. I’m sorry Paul Vagnoni, I know that you were anxiously awaiting his appearance, but let’s face it, somewhere in America tonight, Russell Hantz is glad that for once he’s not on TV with a family member who is clearly a few hairs short of a comb over. More about that later.

The episode started with a reunion of Cochran and the great Oz on Redemption Island. Ozzy immediately tried to get Cochran’s promise to vote for him at the finale. Cochran was a bit peeved that Ozzy would assume that out of the two of them he would be the one in the finale, and for a fleeting moment during the challenge between the two of them it looked like Cochran might win.

I was pretty excited, whooping and hollering, and then of course he LOST and Ozzy’s prediction that “he doesn’t stand a chance” came true. Damn it! That was lost opportunity for a great episode number one.

The main focus of this episode was the ongoing saga of Brandon and his seemingly endless issues. He is really just a confused weird kid. Every week he seems to unsettle someone, and this week it was the older and supposedly wiser physician Edna.

She really allowed his dumbass shenanigans to get to her, leading to a whiney meltdown (which is yet another reason why Edna is completely undeserving of the title of Sole Survivor).

By the time the family reunion took place, we were all sitting on the edges of our seats awaiting what would have admittedly been a GREAT moment reuniting “Hall of Famer” Russell Hantz and his nephew (lost opportunity for a great episode number two).

Instead, we got to meet Brandon’s father (Russell’s brother) Sean. At first I thought, “WOW, the gene pool was deeper on Sean’s end”, because he was kind of good looking, didn’t have that goofy Hantz look on his face and he had hair.

When father and son got a chance to talk privately, Brandon attempted to explain his convoluted game plan that apparently is more about self-improvement and less about winning a million dollars. Papa Hantz was clearly not happy and one could almost hear him thinking “crap my kid is an idiot”!!

In true Hantz style, he then inappropriately jumped in with Coach and tried to actually play the game FOR his knucklehead son! By this time somewhere in America Russell Hantz was shaking his head and thinking that neither his nephew OR his brother could organize a fart in a bean factory. Lost opportunity for a great episode #3? Russell Hantz smacking feckless Brandon upside the head.

While on Redemption Island, Coach approached Ozzy about forming an alliance of noble warriors. Ozzy, displaying his usual absence of any social skills just mumbled and looked dead behind the eyes.

Truth of the matter is, I fear that if Ozzy does make it back into the game, which it looks like he very may will, he will win it all. Crap! I still want Coach to win!! Edna put up a good fight to try to stay.

Her “I am more deserving of staying than Brandon because of my honor and integrity” lost some of its oomph when she then offered to eat a piece of Coach’s stool if the others would believe her claim that he was in her corner. Say what? Yes it’s true they bleeped it out but I rewound it to double check. Eww. She was voted off.

At the end of the show when they give a sneak peak at next week’s episode it looks like Edna might knock Ozzy out of the game on Redemption, but those snippets can be deceiving. As much as I don’t like Edna, I would put up with her paper hat some more to see Ozzy defeated.

Finally, in Rick news, he spoke a few more words and squeezed his wife’s ass on TV during their momentary reunion. Classy. If she had smacked him for that AND for wasting this great opportunity by playing like the lights are on but nobodies home, THAT would have made for a great episode too (lost opportunity #4). Oh well… GO COACH!!

The Booth’s Bits:

After 22 plus seasons of watching Survivor, I have become a pretty good judge of how things are going to shake out. I can usually tell what is going to happen next. And after 12 weeks of doing this blog with Mary Beth and Jamie I have come to realize that both do a fine job of covering the details of what has happened on that night’s episode. So by the time the readers get down to my segment, it isn’t necessary for me to regurgitate what they have already covered. I appreciate that.

So I’m not going to do that tonight. Instead I will try to make some pithy and witty observations. All of which will most likely be diametrically opposed to what my female cohorts have to say. Oh well, that’s the beauty of the Survivor: South Pacific Recap Trilogy.

Never for one minute did I think the folks from the old Upolu tribe were going to vote out Edna. It just wasn’t going to happen. Sure Producer Mark Burnett’s people did some wonderful editing in an attempt to make you think it could happen, but I wasn’t buying it. No, sir. No way.

Not even the spectacular shot of the beautiful double rainbow could convince me that there was the slightest chance that they would send the mentally unstable Brandon to Redemption Island rather than Edna. Call me jaded, but I knew exactly what was going to happen. Psycho boy wasn’t going anywhere.

The very thought that they could dupe me into falling for this charade disappointed me. In fact there were a few other things that let me down this evening.

For example, Jeff Probst coaching and encouraging the nebbish Cochran during his duel with Ozzy on Redemption Island. Come on, they are competing to stay in the game! I thought Probst was above that sort of thing, although he did hook up with Julie from season nine…

I also felt cheated when Russell didn’t show up as nephew Brandon’s relative. Though I must say Brandon’s dad, Russell’s brother, was almost as much of a domineering thug as the former Survivor villain. I loved it when he told Brandon to forget all that Christian stuff and just do whatever it takes to win the million dollars. A true Hantz through and through.

Speaking of “all that Christian stuff”, there was one portion of tonight’s show that definitely did NOT disappoint. It was when the Sophie, tired of all the forgiveness and pseudo religious crap, made the following profound statement:

“On Survivor, people are not as forgiving as Jesus Christ is.”

Amen sister. It is amazing that it took until the 32^nd day of season 23 for someone to finally articulate that sentiment. Hallelujah! Hopefully God has more important things to worry about than some deceitful mopes playing Survivor. But then again, He is omnipotent…

Until next time…from the booth.

They Finally Got It

2011-12-05T11:18:00.004-06:00

Hall of Famer Ron Santo

Pardon my language, but the pricks who vote for the MLB Hall of Fame finally got it. It was announced today that former Cubs great Ron Santo has been elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame by the Veterans Committee. Unfortunately, this honor is bestowed on the hard-hitting third baseman posthumously. Santo passed away on December 3, 2010. In homage to him, I am reposting the blog I wrote the day I found out he had passed.

Getting It

Yesterday my dreaming was abruptly interrupted by Mannheim Steamroller’s lovely version of The Holly and the Ivy. I can’t remember the last time it was necessary for my “alarm” to wake me, but it was pleasant and for the most part, painless.

The next thing I heard wasn’t so pleasant. At least not initially.

After the last notes of the beautiful song ended, I switched on the radio just in time to hear WLIP’s Bill Lawrence doing the sports. The first thing he reported was that Ron Santo, legendary Chicago Cubs player and broadcaster had passed away at age 70.

I was immediately saddened. A great man was gone. Although I am no longer a Cubs fan, I have always admired Mr. Santo. Not because he was an outstanding ballplayer, having appeared in nine All-Star games and receiving six Gold Glove awards. It wasn’t for his twenty years of “enthusiastic” color commentary of Cub games on WGN radio.

The reason that I held number 10 in high esteem was that he was a special human being. Despite battling type 1 diabetes, which resulted in the amputation of his legs and bladder cancer, he continued to work Cubs games and enjoy life. I don’t ever recall having heard him complain about his problems.

Not only did Santo continue celebrating his life, he made a difference in the lives of others.

Starting in 1974, Santo established the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation's annual Ron Santo Walk to Cure Diabetes. To date, this event has raised over $60 million for the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation.

Ron Santo understood what was important. He knew what to do and just did it, without looking for accolades. Sure he was an unabashed homer for the Cubs, but more importantly he was a homer for the right thing.

He got it.

One of the nicest compliments I ever received came from a good friend of mine. After reading my blog, “One Of Them… Sort Of”, he sent me an email and simply said, “Way to go. You get it.”

Please don’t think for a second that I am comparing myself to what Ron Santo has done. I’m not.

But it was nice to hear that for that brief moment, I got it. Those words have stuck with me ever since. When I see how people handle different situations in their lives, I sometimes think to myself, “They get it.”

Doing the right thing without ever thinking about it is one of the most wonderful things that anyone can do. I am fortunate to have several people in my life that get it and I thank God for that. It is a true blessing.

We all have people in our lives that get it. They deserve some sort of recognition. Mind you they aren’t expecting anything, that’s not why they do what they do. They just get it.

Keep in mind that none of us are guaranteed a tomorrow. My Dad got it. Ron Santo got it. They are no longer with us. Please do something to show those in your life that get it that you appreciate them. Show them you get it.

* * * * * * *

Congratulations Ronnie on this well-deserved distinction. It’s too bad it took so long for the pricks to finally get it. Now go ahead and click your heels number 10, you always got it.

Until next time…from the booth.

Rivalry Or Hate?

2011-12-03T07:09:00.000-06:00

Ever since I was a little (okay, make that young) boy, I have loved sports. It started when Dad was watching the Packers back in the early ‘60s and I liked Paul Hornung because we shared the same first name and his uniform number was my age – 5. Yes, I’m THAT old. So we are talking close to five decades of sports infatuation. Over all those years I have become particularly fond of several teams, the Packers and the Brewers being my favorites.

Along with developing a fondness for certain teams, I have also formed a dislike for others. For some teams the dislike is much stronger, bordering on loathing, almost hate.

Those teams would be the Chicago Cubs, St. Louis Cardinals, Chicago Bears, Minnesota Vikings and the Chicago Bulls. The reason? They play in the same division and are rivals of the teams I root for.

But wait. You are probably saying, what are the Chicago Bulls doing in that list? They aren’t rivals of the Packers or the Brewers. They play basketball.

You would be correct; they don’t play football or baseball! Then why my vitriol toward them?

Believe it or not, I had to pause and ask myself that very question. The definition of rivalry is competition for the same objective or for superiority in the same field. Since I don’t follow the NBA anymore, the rivalry factor isn’t relevant.

Then why? Why do I have such an aversion for the Bulls along with the Cubs, Cards, Bears and Vikings?

I went to my handy thesaurus to find synonyms for rivalry. Competitiveness, competition, contention, vying and opposition were the first entries. Those did not apply, so I continued on.

Next up were conflict, feuding, antagonism, friction and enmity. Now we’re talking! At one time or another all those words applied to all five of those teams.

The next thing I had to ask myself is why do I have those feelings toward those teams.

Do the athletes on those teams make me feel that way? No, not really. As individuals, I am pretty much indifferent toward most of them. Okay, there have been a few that I can’t stand.

Players like Dan Hampton, Jim McMahon, Steve McMichael, Mike Ditka, Jared Allen, Sammy Sosa, Carlos Zambrano, Tony La Russa, Albert Pujols Yadier Molina and Scottie Pippen to name a few.

Even so, there has to be more than disgust for a few of their athletes that causes me to feel such a deep contempt for the Cubs, Cards, Bears, Vikings and Bulls.

But what?

Because I am an avid fan of sports talk radio, I am inundated with the Chicago media. Reflecting a bit, I realized that there are a good number of Windy City broadcasters that have, at times, caused me to vomit in my mouth.

The names Dan Bernstein, Terry Boers, Les Grobstein, Harry Teinowitz, Bruce Levine, Len Kasper and David Kaplan immediately come to mind.

The pompous arrogance displayed by these guys as they spew their biased opinions is enough to make feel animosity toward the teams they publicize. Unless of course you happen to be a fan of those teams. Wait…

That’s it!

I have finally figured out why I feel such great disdain toward those teams. It’s not so much the teams themselves or their players, it’ their knuckle-dragging, mouth-breathing fans. They are to blame for making me feel so jaundiced toward these particular teams.

Don’t get me wrong; not all the fans of those teams are vile and despicable. I personally know many wonderful fans of the Cubs, Cards, Bears, Vikings and Bulls. They are good people. But for every Patty, Bill, Reenie, Randy, Mary Beth or Rob, there is a score of the other type.

Speaking of “score”, let’s talk about the meatball fans that call WSCR, 670 the Score. They are, for the most part, an obnoxious and unsavory lot filled with venom. Plenty of “We” talk when their Chicago teams are winning. When they’re not winning they want to replace everyone, but never have a replacement in mind. Jerks.

Moving up the dial to 720 you get the veteran WGN crowd. They are ignorant and out of touch with anything that happened after 1985. Reality has passed them by. After last Sunday’s Bear loss to the Raiders, I heard one caller refer to 4-year NFL veteran Caleb Hanie as “that rookie Henning”. Hey pal, I think Walter Payton just scored…

Now that I have brought up Payton, let’s move on to ESPN’s WMVP 1000. That’s where Walter’s son, Jarrett broadcasts. From the little I listen to the station, he fits right in. Like most of the hosts, he would rather hear himself talk than take calls. Therefore, the WMVP fans get a pass, although I am sure that they are as reprehensible as those calling WSCR and WGN.

When I first started writing this blog, I fully intended to focus on what’s behind sports rivalries. Honest, that was my intention. Instead, it morphed into a rather cathartic piece on feelings.

Yes, after writing this, I have come to the realization that it’s not the Cub, Cardinal, Bear, Viking and Bull teams that I despise. No, it’s their media and their fans. They are the reason I cringe when those teams win and rejoice when they lose.

I feel much better now. Until next time…from the booth.

Survivor 23.12

2011-11-30T23:22:00.002-06:00

Here’s your Official Survivor: South Pacific Recap Trilogy for week 12:

Mary Beth’s 2Cents:

It was Survivor business as usual tonight. A lot of jockeying for position was happening among the remaining tribe members with Cochran and Edna trying to make something happen that would keep them around at least one more episode. But first…

At Redemption Island, Ozzy reigned supreme in a challenge where he, Dawn and Whitney had to balance dinnerware and add pieces when Probst told them to. Dawn was the first one out which meant she was gone. Whitney fell next which meant the two of them were off to Jury Duty whilst Ozzy was the last man standing.

He made some speech about him being the perfect person for Redemption and made a Robinson Crusoe pose against a sunny sky. I threw up a little in my mouth!

Back to the tribe, poor Cochran realized he might be out next and made a plea, with a little white lie about it being his birthday soon, reminding them all how much he sacrificed for their sake and asking for their "gift" of another day or two.

Not all of them were feeling the grateful love, but Albert seemed to bite. Albert won Individual Immunity even as the others were labeling him "Prince Albert" because he does nothing in camp and even put out the fire in a half hearted attempt to show them he was doing something.

Cochran tried to use that to his advantage by telling Albert about his new nickname and Albert tried to get Rick (the silent man) voted out. But at Tribal Council, Rick spoke! I can't for the life of me remember what the heck he said but his mustache was moving up and down and sound was coming out of his mouth so he was speaking.

Then, Brandon started explaining about there not being any shades of grey in his game and then he had a good cry. What? Yes. It happened. I'm still trying to figure it out.

Anyway, nothing worked for Cochran and next week he gets to go head to head with the Wizard of Oz in the Redemption Challenge. Oh please, for the love of all that's holy, let Cochran win. I want to see that happen. I want to see the look on Ozzy's face when that happens. I want to hear the shear delight in Probst's voice when that happens. Please, please, please let that happen. Pretty please with sugar on top!

Jamie’s Prognosis:

Well I was kind of sad this week because, of course, I was rooting for Cochran and he got voted off. OK, OK I agree that it was super weird that he admitted that he gives his own mother massages. It was a Norman Bates moment for sure, and the following shots of his pasty white body on the massage table didn’t help much. But I STILL felt like other than Coach he is the only one out there who was playing any sort of a strategic game.

So here is my take on the remaining six contestants:

1. Coach. I think I’ve made it pretty clear that I like Coach Wade. He’s goofy, I know, but I like his whole yoga on the beach, Zen like presence. Let’s face it! He has created a loyal band of Jesus lovin’ followers out there. It is a bit Jim Jones meets the Godfather, but the fact is that the “family” is still working for him. Go Dragon slayer all the way!!!

2. Sophie. She bores me but she is pretty smart and savvy. She’s playing it somewhat under the radar, while also at least maintaining some sort of a presence (are you listening Rick?). I feel like at some point that she could have the potential to make a big move. I don’t think she really buys into the family thing but is rather just playing along. She’s still in the game in a strong way at this point.

3. Albert is real purty to look at but his behavior this week shows some vulnerability. While his biceps are great company, I don’t think that his people skills are much better than Ozzy’s. He acted this week like a… man. If you’re a man don’t get offended, but it’s true.

You HAVE to do some “housework” to make it in this game knucklehead or people will get PISSED off at you. Sheesh. I don’t think he has what it takes to make it to the end because he doesn’t seem to have it in him to make a move that would give him an edge. He’s a follower at this point and he’s a little annoying.

4. Rick. He spoke some more this week. I have nothing else to say about him except that I still hate his porn ‘stache.

5. Brandon continues to be the resident tortured soul. Lets face it; there’s a village missing an idiot somewhere, but they won’t miss him for long. By the looks of next week’s preview, he will continue to allow his cheese to slide off his cracker and will be yet another Hantz who won’t win Survivor.

6. Edna. This season’s hanger on is above average in the annoying and useless department. She wears a weird paper hat on her head, has a bland personality and possesses very few useful skills in the wild. Maybe she’s anesthetizing all of us because when she’s on screen I don’t feel a thing.

Out on Redemption Island we still have the great Oz, a surfer from Venice California who thrives in a world of his own but crashes and burns when he’s around anything without gills. John Cochran, a Harvard Law student, now joins him. Wouldn’t it be AWESOME if Cochran were the one to beat Cockzy and knock him out of the game? I realize it’s a long shot, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

The Booth’s Bits:

Tonight’s episode was gratifying for a number of reasons. The start put a smile on my face and the end had me shouting, YES!!! Sandwiched in between were a few decent quotes and several uplifting moments.

The show opened with some small talk regarding whether Edna or Cochran should go first. By herself after the group discussion, Sophie admitted she just couldn’t take Cochran anymore and that she didn’t like him. Finally, a voice of reason!

The duel at Redemption Island pitted Ozzy, Dawn and Whitney in a plate-balancing contest. Here’s the Reader’s Digest version: Dawn let her plates fall and cussed. Whitney dropped her plates, so Ozzy won and got to stay. Dawn had to go home, she cried. Whitney was sent home and she cried. Ozzy told the members of Te Tuna, “See ya.”

Oh ya, one other thing. Whitney is mighty purty.

Between the Redemption Island duel and the Immunity Challenge we were treated to more of the bromance between Cochran and Benjamin (the Survivor formerly known as Coach). They did their silly little Tai Chi routine on the beach while telling each other how much they loved one another. I bet their babies would have prominent proboscises and have superiority complexes…

The Immunity Challenged involved a beanbag toss followed by some sling shot fun. By winning, Albert not only won Immunity, he was also rewarded with a shower and a massage back at camp. Host Jeff Probst told him that he could share his reward with one other tribe mate. He chose Benjamin.

He then amazed everyone and gave his reward to Cochran because he thought it was his birthday. Cochran was really lying about it being his birthday, but it was worth sinning because now he had more bromance time with Benjamin.

Seeing the smug Benjamin and the extremely pasty Cochran getting massaged by Island girls made me happy that Albert made the bold move. But I am willing to bet if Whitney was the one giving the massages he wouldn’t have given it away. She’s mighty purty.

Prior to Tribal Council, there was the usual scrambling. Edna knew her time on Survivor was growing short and was worried. Cochran, being a Harvard law student, realized that being Benjamin’s main squeeze wasn’t enough to ensure him sticking around. At one point he summed up his situation saying, “I don’t want to be Sharon Tate in this scenario.” That made me chuckle.

It should be noted that Cowboy Rick did the unthinkable on day 29 of this season of Survivor. He spoke. Swear to God. Not once, but two or three times. It was pretty cool. He even made a funny and referred to Albert as “Prince Albert”. I thought he played for the Cardinals…

At Tribal Council, true to form, the former members of the Upolu tribe stuck together and voted off Cochran. That’s when I shouted, YES!!! Evidently Benjamin didn’t love him that much.

This entire episode amplified my aversion for Cochran and reinforced that he is indeed nebbish. Tribal Council also made it clear that the only semi-normal people remaining are Sophie and Albert. Oh ya, Ozzy is still lurking on Redemption Island. But he’s kinda of freaky too. So I’m pulling for Sophie and Albert.

One last thing, did I mention that Whitney is mighty purty? She is. Mighty purty. I’m sure glad she is on the jury. Until next time…from the booth.

It’s A Family Affair

2011-11-27T16:50:00.002-06:00

Yesterday we rallied the troops for another monumental Vagnoni family breakfast at Bonnie’s Diner. When we gathered on the Fourth of July, there were 24 of us in attendance. I am proud to announce that we were able to hit that same magical total on Saturday. That number meant that once again, a “kids” table was required to accommodate our brood.

Joining me for this epic gathering were Mom, brother Mike, his wife Amy and their boys, John and Ryan, brother Joey, Uncle John (the Godfather) and Auntie Janet (Fellow Survivor Geek), cousin Susie and her boys, Alex (the Godson) and Nick, Uncle Joe and Auntie Joanne, cousin Mark and his wife Pat, cousin Annie and her daughter, Mia, Uncle Dave and Aunt Bonnie, cousin Mindy and her daughter, Samantha, cousin Shelly and her husband, James.

As planned, Susie and I formally announced our plan to put together a book chronicling the escapades of our family at the venerable “Cottage”. As we distributed the info request forms, a buzz started and the old stories were soon flying all over the small northside eatery.

Mixed in with all of the reminiscing were laughter, plenty of smiles, a few tears and a delicious breakfast. It was wonderful spending a morning with 23 people that I love. Here are a few photos from the bash.

A Portion of the Vagnoni Clan

Auntie Joanne, Uncle Joe and Uncle John - The Godfather

Mia and Nick at the "Kids" Table

Auntie Janet, Ryan, Amy, John and Mike

Annie and Susie

Me and Joey

It was great to see how well received the “Cottage” book idea was. Using the family breakfast at as a “launch party” was a wonderful idea. Again, thanks to cousin Susie for that one. Now it’s just a matter of getting it done.

Until next time…from the booth.