2 parts hydrogen, 1 part oxygen

I was born and raised in the great state of Michigan, the "Great Lakes State", where we collectively scoff at the 10,000 lakes of Minnesota. I grew up with a lake in my backyard and spent a lot of my free time in and around the water. My Dad and I would put in the dock* sometime in May and take it out in October. My brother and I would use the dock to launch canoes, rowboats, experimental craft* , and ourselves into the lake. We had a few uninhabited, by people anyway, islands behind our house that had good swimming beaches and lots of interesting things to explore. Many of our childhood pets were captured on and around those islands (sorry PETA). In the winter we were out on the lake playing hockey and sabotaging snowmobile trails and ice fishing shanties (sorry, but you never should have dug those holes in our rink). As I grew up, so did my connection to the water. In college I studied the ecology, biology, and politics of water (Go Blue!), I work in a water profession, and my wife and I base many of our travels on visiting different bodies of water, intentionally or not. One of our favorite "water" places is Isle Royale, an archipelago in Lake Superior.

For some reason, this time of the year always reminds me of the two spectacular kayaking trips we’ve taken to Isle Royale. I know a vacation that involves taking a 6 hour boat ride (pier to pier) to a remote island in Lake Superior, wilderness camping, paddling in really, really cold water (dock to dock), and portaging a 90 pound kayak up and down steep, rocky hills doesn’t sound like a lot of fun to most people, but to me it’s Xanadu. There is nothing in the world like getting up at the first signs of dawn so that you can get on the water before the big lake gets churned up by the afternoon sun and winds. The colors are magnificent and the air is crisp. The air tastes fresh during the morning on Superior, like it was changed out during the previous night. We break down the camp, eat some breakfast, load up the boats, and head to the next camp. The scrape of the plastic hull on the granite lake bottom as we shove away from camp is quickly followed by the sound of our paddles as we regain our balance and begin to put some water under our rudders. We’ve paddled with swimming moose and diving loons, wildlife viewing seems easier from the water, almost as if the animals aren’t expecting to see you, so their defenses are down. We usually spend 8 days on the island, and, for me, it’s more refreshing than a beach resort, golfing trip, etc. We haven’t been back since June in 2003, but we are planning on a trip in 2006. Maybe that’s why I find myself thinking of IR, it’s time to start planning for next year.

* Dock v. Pier – there is some discrepancy regarding the difference between these two words, especially if you’re from Indiana. As a self-proclaimed expert I can assure you that a dock is the backyard sized version of a pier. In order to refer to a dock as a pier, the structure must be able to moor a boat of substantial size; I’ll say somewhere north of 60 feet. A ship of this size can dock at a pier, but not at a dock.

* When I was around 10 my Dad came home from work with an amazing boat called a Whirlytub. The Whirlytub consisted of a yellow fiberglass "tub" that sat inside of the innertube for a large truck tire. It was probably 3’ across and could comfortably sit 3 kids or an adult and a kid. One side of the tub had a bench seat and a small trolling motor provided the power. The motor was located on the inside of the tube, which served two purposes; first, it allowed the tube to make awesome donuts. Second, the motor and propeller were protected if you had to use the Whirlytub to ram into other watercraft in the area, most notably those pansy ass paddleboats. The Whirlytub was great until one night my Dad and one of his friends decided to take it out on some sort of mission that also involved a 12 pack of Strohs. The Whirlytub began to take on water and list seriously on the far side of one of the islands. Although, my Dad and his friend returned unscathed, the Whirlytub was never the same again. The Strohs were not as lucky; all we ever found were the empties.

Gridiron Heroes?

The Detroit Lions started competing in professional football in 1934. They stopped in 1958. The fourth quarter of last night’s Lions v. Packers 13-16 overtime debacle was a microcosm of the sad state of the Lions that has lasted for almost 5 decades, mostly under the ownership of the Ford family, the same people that brought you the Pinto and the Festiva.

The 4th quarter opened with the Packers making a field goal to erase the Lions improbable 10-point lead. That last sentence is like the opening of a horror movie to most Lions fans. History has taught us that this game was going to end badly. To the surprise of many, the Leos proceeded to embark on a 7 minute drive from their own 33 to the Packers 1/2 yard line, 2nd and goal, a scant 18 inches from the end zone. Let’s pause for a minute to review the Packers defense. The Packers undersized defensive backs have given up big plays all year long, the linebackers are stout against the run, but injuries have limited their effectiveness in coverage, and the defensive line is anchored by Grady Jackson, a 400 pound behemoth that you couldn’t move with a bulldozer, let alone an undersized center. Most competent, NFL quality, offensive coordinators would look at that defense and attack it at the edges with bootlegs, fades, crossing routes in the end zone, play action, or a sweep. To pull any of those plays off the Lions would need a scrambling QB (garcia), big WRs (the williams sisters), a veteran TE (pollard), and a decent RB (the lions are out of luck on this one unless #20 was to come running out of the tunnel nWo style* ). So that leaves bootlegs, fades, and crossing routes…but these are the Lions. 2nd and 1 – run into the left side of Grady Jackson, no gain. 3rd and 1 – run into the right side of Grady Jackson, no gain. Now the Lions have 4th and 18 inches with ~7:15 left on the clock, game tied, 4th quarter, on the road, with no running game to speak of. Prudence dictates you kick the field goal and take the lead. It puts the pressure on the other team and you’ll probably get the ball back if they score to tie or take the lead. Lions fans know that the probable result of the hypothetical field goal would be a Brett Favre touchdown pass with little time left on the clock, but still, unless you’re the coach of a high school team you must kick the field goal. Not the Lions. They march right up to the line of scrimmage, waste too much time, and are forced to call a time out. Now the Packers will have time to set their D, so the Lions have to kick the field goal, or not. The Lions offense runs back on the field to take a shot a 4th and 18 inches. They’ve run their 235 pound RB into the 400 pound Grady Jackson two times and didn’t gain a foot. The smart move is to get the ball away from the middle of the Green Bay defense and attack the edge. If they called me, I would have told them to run a bootleg to the right, fade Roy Williams to the corner and drag Pollard across the goalpost. But my phone didn’t ring and the Lions ran their 180-pound QB right up the middle for, surprise, no gain. Turnover on downs, Green Bay’s ball inside the one yard line. Now we just have to sit through the inevitable Packer march down the field to victory, except we forgot the part where the Lions do something right, to set up the punch in the gut that will come later.

*can you imagine Jim Ross if this happened? "ladies and gentleman the lions are in a heap a trouble right now….wait …what’s that music?…what happened to the lights?…OHMIGOD! BARRY SANDERS IS COMING OUT OF THE TUNNEL!!! BARRY IS COMING OUT OF THE TUNNEL!" It would be awesome.

Green Bay starts their drive with a false start, nice, now the prospect of a safety enters the equation. Now it’s 2nd and 10 yards, 9 inches. Brett Favre drops back and hand off to Samkon Gado deep in the end zone. He starts to run off tackle on the right side and the LIONS TACKLE HIM FOR A SAFETY!!! As Gado is going down he attempts to fumble the ball forward, out of the end-zone, in a sad attempt to avoid the safety. Flags fly and a referee’s conference ensues. After conferring for a few moments the referees announce the penalties are intentional grounding in the end zone, which the Lions accept for a safety, and holding, which is declined. The Packers coach calls the refs over, without having to use his challenge, and convinces them that Gado was technically out of the pocket and therefore he can’t intentionally ground the ball. The ref returns to the field, turns on his mike, and explains that the intentional grounding penalty was being waived off and the holding penalty didn’t take place in the end zone, and therefore, would not result in a safety. WHAT?!?!? ESPN goes to the replay, which clearly shows Tauscher tackling the Lions D-lineman on the giant letter "C"in the freaking endzone. Of course holding isn’t a reviewable play, so the Lions went from a 15-13 lead and control of the ball back to the 13-13 tie against one of the greatest QBs of all time. The Lions were left with their only option, to squander what remained of the game.

Amazingly the Lions D forced the Packers to punt with 3:20 left on the clock. The Lions would be getting the ball back with a little more than 3 minutes to go around their own 35. All they need is about 35 yards and Hanson will be in range for the game winner. The Lions line up, garcia is under center calling out the signals. The ball is snapped and Garcia drops back amidst a furious Packer rush. He looks to the right, and snaps a pass to Roy Williams who is wide open and running full throttle around the Lions 45. The pass is perfect and Williams will easily gain 25 yards, maybe even a touchdown…if he would have caught the ball. The Lions then run the ball once, just for laughs, then Garcia overthrows Chaz Rogers, and the Lions punt the ball away, leaving the Packers ample time to march down the field for the game winner. But once again the Lions D holds, buoyed by a 2nd down sack from Big Baby, and the Lions get the ball back at their own 20 with 1:02 left on the clock. The Lions have to make a tough choice. They can either try to move the ball downfield for the score, but risk giving Favre another shot to win, or they can run the clock out and go to overtime. Somehow they managed to do neither. Pinner gets a handoff on first down (o.k., they’ll be running out the clock) and inexplicably runs out of bounds to stop the clock. Once again the Lions hand off to Pinner on 2nd down, this time he stays in bounds, but he also picks up the first down and the Lions decide to call time out. Now it seems the Lions will try to throw the ball to win the game…too bad they just wasted all that time and a timeout to run the ball twice. Incomplete pass, incomplete pass and the Lions are staring at 3rd and 10 with :37 left. Now they should run the clock out and go to overtime. Garcia takes the snap and hands off to Bryson going around the right side. Bryson breaks through the line of scrimmage and then, ba-da-bump, runs out of bounds to stop the clock. That’s right, HE RAN OUT OF BOUNDS!?!?! All he had to do on that play was stay inbounds to keep the clock going, it didn’t matter if he gained a yard. He could have taken the handoff and laid down on the ground and it would have been better than running out of bounds. But, once again, the Lions defense held ground and the game would go into overtime.

Overtime started off with the referee losing the coin necessary for the coin toss. It’s always funny watching the line judge ask the ball boys if they have any change, maybe they should also ask for a rulebook for a clarification on what is and isn’t a safety. As an aside, if the ref’s get a copy of the rules they might want to review what the difference is between a forward pass and a forward lateral. Once the ref located a coin everyone was ready for the all-important overtime coin toss. Even this brings a moment of doubt for Lions fans (Marty Morningwhieg – "we’ll take the wind"), but the Lions lose the toss and the Packers take the ball to start the period. The defense starts off the overtime playing relatively well, they even seem to be about to force the Packers to punt. Then the last wheel falls off and the Lions D does something stupid. In this case it’s the aptly nicknamed Shaun "Big Baby" Rogers throwing Samkon Gado to the ground when he was out of bounds. Personal foul, 15 yards - now the Packers are in field goal range. The Lions, not wanting to make it too hard on the Packers, allow a 20-yard pass to Ferguson. After a couple of runs Ryan Longwell kicks a whopping 28 yard field goal and finally puts the Lions out of their misery, 16-13.

In this short span the Lions managed to get screwed by their coaching, offense, defense, and the refs. For all you optimists, there were 2 bright spots in the game. First, the last thing we need is Dick Jauron winning enough games for the Fords to hire him for next year. Winning a December game in Green Bay is the kind of game that would make the Ford’s irrationally excited. Second, the loss just helps the Lions move up the draft board. The annual NFL draft is like the superbowl for Lions fans and if the Lions continue to lose they might be able to sneak into the top 4 to draft their next bust QB and underperforming WR all in one package, Vince Young. It’s going to be like a Lions draft version of "The Perfect Storm". Maybe if we’re lucky they’ll also be able to pick up a slow, overhyped, tackle to go with him.

Forward down the field,
A charging team that will not yield.
And when the Blue and Silver wave,
Stand and cheer the brave.
Rah, Rah, Rah.
Go hard, win the game.
With honor you will keep your fame.
Down the field and gain,
A Lion victory!
GO LIONS!

Let it snow...

We had our first major snowfall of the season in Chicago yesterday. The serious snow didn't start falling until Thursday afternoon, which pretty much guaranteed the evening commute was going to suck more than a Detroit Diesel powered Shop Vac. Turns out I was right. My 17 mile commute took 2:35 last night, for a whopping 6.8 mph average. It wasn't a big deal. I had seen the weather reports and realized we were going to get hit hard yesterday afternoon. I made sure the tank was full, and I hooked up some provisions for the ride home on my walk to the car. Two things exacerbated the situation.

Number one, a large percentage of the locals inexplicably forget how to operate in snow sometime between March and December. They're slipping and sliding, driving way too slow, or much too fast, and generally acting like radiation is falling from the sky. Almost every car out there has, at least, front wheel drive* , and most have anti-lock brakes. People managed to drive in snow in the 60's and 70's, it's true... I've seen pictures, before any of these things were invented. People who are pushing giant SUV's (Sequoia drivers seem to be the worst out there right now) also seem to have some sort of mental deficiency. Don't get me wrong, 4-wheel drive is awesome, provided you know how to use it. Here's a tip for all the jackasses I saw sliding their SUV's through intersections, and into walls, yesterday: 4-wheel drive doesn't do a thing for your brakes. If all 4 wheels are sliding, you're pretty much f'ed. Of course, if you're on some road in northern Michigan you might do a donut or two, hope you don't hit a tree, and go on your way, but if your turning from Lake Shore Drive onto Sheridan Rd. you end up hitting another car, a pedestrian, or parking in a bus shelter. All three of these things are seriously frowned upon by the authorities.

* except for the 3 Corvettes I saw up on the sidewalk on my way home. What kind of an idiot drives a Corvette around in 6+ inches of snow? Tough, and expensive, way to learn a lesson.

The second thing that made the situation worse was the City snowplows on Lake Shore Drive. The plows were coming through, one at a time, and pushing snow into usable lanes, rendering them almost impassible. So, in effect, everytime a plow went by we would lose a lane. By the time I got to the northern terminus of the Drive the far right and far left lanes were open and the two middle lanes were sort of a snow-bound no-man's land. It seems like it would make more sense to line-up 4 plows (slightly staggered makes sense) and drive down one side of LSD and turn around and do the other side.

It ended up snowing ~ 7 inches in Evanston. I shoveled the driveway immediately after I arrived home. I was the first one done on the block (shovel, no snowblower, if you're wondering), ahhhh, the sweet taste of victory. I used to love the snow when I was a kid. I attended catholic elementary school and around November 1st every year I would request that we pray for snow during the morning prayer. The snow request didn't fit in well with the other prayers for dying pets and sick grandmothers, but I figured it was right in God's wheelhouse. Of course some kid would always offer a prayer against snow to counter my move, but it ended up snowing every year, so I guess Jesus liked me more. My brother and I are avid skiers, sledders, snow fort builders, and shovelers, so the snow was a necessity. We also grew up playing hockey on the lake, so the cold was also welcome. The snow isn't as cool when you have to commute, but I still have a soft spot for it. So have a good time in the snow, and remember, one of the greatest feelings in the world is to hit an unsuspecting someone square in the face with a snowball. You shouldn't throw it hard, and it shouldn't be packed too tight, but if it's on target, you'll remember it forever.

Top 5 Dice Bits

1. It's the Holiday Season
2. As funny as a bottle of milk.
3. Did you go to school for that?
4. Jojoba/Pert
5. Hour back, get it?

Jalen Rose Poetry Contest

The greatest college point guard of my generation is sponsoring a holiday poetry contest via his fan club. Check it out at www.jalenrose.com. Here's a Jalen haiku for a little motivation:


A Rose from concrete-
Long shorts, black socks, non-stop flow.
J Nuts, Wolverine.

Book Review: The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini

The Kite Runner is a thought-provoking, very well crafted, story that examines the relationships between friends, fathers and sons, and cultures – through the prism of Afghanistan, and the Afghan community in America, over the last 30 years. At the outset of the book, Amir, the protagonist of the story, is enjoying a privileged childhood in the Afghanistan of the 1970’s. His best friend is his servant Hassan, the son of his father’s loyal servant Ali. Amir’s father, Baba, is a strong personality who cuts a swath through the business and social circles of Kabul, a much different Kabul than the harsh reality of Kabul in the early 21st century. The friendship of Amir and Hassan is under constant pressure from the disparate rungs that they occupy on the Afghan social ladder. These pressures seem to weigh the most on Amir, and they culminate in an event that will change both of their lives forever. Amir’s inner conflict regarding his friendship with Hassan coincides with his country’s fall into, seemingly, endless war and despair. First with the coup to overthrow the King, followed by the invasion of the Russians, culminating in years of savage rule by the Taliban. Amir and Baba flee to America via the Khyber Pass, but their bonds with Ali and Hassan will both haunt and embolden them throughout the rest of the novel. The final arc of the novel involves Amir’s heroic return to his native country to try to restore his bond with Hassan, and to claim a piece of his soul he left behind many years before.
This is the type of book that will stick in your head for a long time after you finish the final sentence. I highly recommend it as a tremendous work of fiction, an interesting look into Afghan culture, and a superb exploration of the relationships we keep in our lives. I don’t want to give away too much more, but I hope you read it – and if you do, make a comment and let me know if you liked it.

DEEEETTROIT BASKETBALL!

Detroit Pistons 106 - NY Knickerbockers 98. Up yours Larry Brown.

Tips for expecting and new dads...

As a new father (my daughter is ~3months old), and a husband of a recently pregnant woman, I will offer tips from time to time to help out anyone else in this predicament. Here’s the first…

DON’T PUT MATERNITY CLOTHES IN THE DRYER

I have a theory that the women (not to be sexist, but my Dad never did laundry, and neither did most of his cohorts) of the upper midwest got together sometime between 1975 – 1990 and decided to enact a new social construct, whereas they would not teach their daughters how to properly do laundry. This ensured that the boys that grew up during this period would be well versed in separating clothes and using appropriate water and dryer temperatures. In my case, the lessons were learned in the laundry room of my freshman dorm (Bursley rules). The women of this generation were seemingly taught, when faced with doing laundry for their cohabitators, to disregard any sort of laundry rules. Group all colors, wash everything in hot water, and dry at nuclear temps. This would ensure the demise of at least one of the man’s cherished items (a 1996 Michigan Football T-shirt in my case), which would trick the man into taking over control of the laundry responsibilities. This allowed me to develop a pretty efficient system over the years. That is until maternity clothes started showing up in the hamper about a year ago.

Maternity clothes are finicky. Exotic, stretchy materials and low supply can amplify the smallest mistakes. Many require the dreaded "pull out method" to ensure that they don’t get put into the dryer with all the other clothes. Anyone with half a brain knows the "pull out method" works marginally at best, something is always bound to slip through. Why do you think hard-core Catholics always end up with a couple dozen kids? In my case it was 3 all-cotton short sleeve shirts. I mistakenly placed them into the dryer then went to the park to shoot some hoops (you can’t stop my flow on the court… you can’t even contain it). I returned to the hacienda to fold the laundry, and to my horror discovered that I had decimated about two-thirds of my pregnant wife’s summer wear. Bad times. After this incident all maternity clothes went right to the drying racks, better safe than sorry.

Now I thought I had it down. No more maternity clothing shrinkage, and when my daughter was officially welcomed to the planet I figured I was home free. Then nursing wear started showing up in the hamper I knew it wasn’t over, it was only the beginning.

Here's looking at you, kid...

Best story ever...

I'm posting this story because it's easily the funniest thing that's ever happened to me, enjoy...
(for the record this took place in early December 2004)
My wife's family and I went out to dinner last Saturday night to celebrate my sister in law's birthday. As is tradition in the family, my sister in law was allowed to select the venue for the party and she chose the Michigan Shores Club (swanky private club on the north shore of Chicago). My wife and I picked up her parents, valet'd the car, and met my sister in law and her husband in the Oak Room for dinner. Anyway, it seemed to be a typical night at the club, snooty old white people, young asian and jewish families the oldsters are pissed about having to let in, and a tremendous hispanic waitstaff. After dinner, the six of us headed downstairs to retrieve our cars from the valet. At one point in the hallway between the Oak Room and the front door we noticed a faint smell that could only be described as sewage. The smell seemed to be localized in the hallway. The bathrooms and locker rooms were nearby so I figured someone must have dropped a bomb and then had a bit of a ass vapor trail as they returned to their dinner. My wife and her parents stopped at the club's front desk to look at the recent announcements while I proceeded to the valet stand to get the car. The three, high school/college, age valets were in the vestibule with a look of horror, laughter, and astonishment on their faces. They clearly were witnesses to something worth knowing about but they weren't very forthcoming with information. I started to ask them questions and once they opened up it was all worth the effort. Here's how the conversation went:

Q: Hey fellas. What's the joke?
Valet 1: Nothing, nothing, something funny happened (he then grabs my keys and then goes to retrieve the car, but not before fashioning a make-shift gas mask with his shirt collar before going through the front door.)
Q: Come on. I can tell something funny happened. I won't tell on you guys.
Valet 2: You see that? (motioning to a steaming PILE right outside the front door, right next to a planter, right in the footpath)
Q: Did a horse just come through?
Valet 3: Ummm, no...
Q: Somebody walking a dog?
V2: Nope, about 2 minutes ago an old drunk dude stumbled out the door, leaned over to the side and puked right there.
Q: No way
V2:...and then he paused, dropped his pants, and took a dump. Right there...right outside the door. Then he pulled up his pants and went right back in.
Q:?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!!!

Un-freakin-believable. The best part is that there were no other events going on so the odds are that Dr. Disgusto went right back to eating dinner with his family. Of course this also explains the vapor trail that we encountered in the hallway. To further the mystery the guy had to walk by at least 2 possible bathrooms before he reached the front door, and he could have made it to numerous bushes and the lawn if he was willing to move 6' from where he let loose. Anyway, that's my story. One thing we determined is that there are only 2 types of people that can drop trou and lay cable in full view of the public without repercussions, the homeless and the FILTHY rich.

Welcome

Welcome to the New Cuts. You all be bad. Whoop, whoop, whoop.