Off The Bench (The SANJAYA! Edition)

I’m not going to kid you. Just because the Imus furor has died down, doesn’t mean that I’m not going to continue to write about it. In case you’re interested, this site contains contact info (some of it admittedly outdated) for the blowhards who fired the I-man in the first place. Meanwhile, over on Power 105 here in New York (a Hip Hop station), they hosted a round table of sorts (including Reverend Al, natch) and the determination was that they would stop playing “that type of music. Not that we played that much anymore.” And oh, this had nothing to do with Imus, they said.

Puhleeze. They finally realized that they couldn’t organize a witch hunt for Don Imus’s head and not do more to satisfy the side that was now ripping the rap industry.

The truth of the matter, for me, is that I don’t necessarily want “them” to do away with the raunchy hip hop music. This is a free country, so stop being so puritanical. As with anything else on the radio, if you don’t like it, then don’t listen to it. I like plenty of R&B and hip hop, but Power 105 wasn’t a station that I listened to. Conversely plenty of people didn’t listen to Imus. What Imus said was satire. He was parodying the speech of the hip hop industry, which they had been doing for years. Funny how people laugh at me whenever I utter some “slang” reference like “I hear ya’ humming, yo” or something stupid like that. Folks found it funny because that kind of speech sounds strange emanating from me. That’s what was supposed to be Imus’s shtick. It had nothing to do with him being a racist, which I still believe he is not.

But enough already. As I said last week, we have much bigger fish to fry. For instance, we have a national tragedy at Virginia Tech. If you’ve been under a rock, then you might not know that 32 people were killed in a shooting on the college campus. VA Tech officials and police have some explaining to do for the timeline of events, especially after the gunmen killed two people around 7:15 AM then killed the other 30 over two hours later. The campus was never shut down so more students were permitted to be in classes and roaming the grounds.

I’m blaming Imus for it. After all, he was responsible for New Jersey Governor John Corzine’s car accident, right? Never mind the fact that the good gov’nor thought he was above the law and wasn’t wearing a seatbelt.

Apparently, the gov thought he could buy his way out of it…just as he’s bought his elections.

Back to the radio. Mike and the Mad Dog, along with Charles McCord are carrying on in the I-man aftermath on WFAN and the affiliates that are still carrying the show. Despite what writers like Bob Raissman say, the trio is doing a remarkable job. Monday’s show had a lot to do with the hypocrisy of the entire situation, including taking shots at CBS and NBC for their mishandling of the affair, and at former “I-faves” who have not come off well in the post-nappy-headed era. Tim Russert, I’m afraid, is front and center on the hit list, along with Senator Christopher Dodd, Mike Wallace, and Harold Ford, Jr. Then there was Ana Marie Cox, David Brooks, and even Newsweek people like Evan Thomas who questioned why they ever went on the show in the first place.

With friends like these, who needs enemies?

Question – Chuck is working with Mike and the Mad Dog. Lou Ruffino is serving as their engineer. Tracy Burgess is still doing traffic and Chris Carlin is doing sports. In other words, the whole Imus crew is there, with one notable exception (other than the I-man). So where the heck is Bernard McGuirk?

I have a funny feeling he’s there, and even serving as producer, but not saying a peep. Regardless, all of this is why I think that Imus will be back on WFAN, as soon as within two weeks. CBS Radio has a new boss. WFAN still lists the Imus show on their website (including archives). Maybe guest hosts will keep the chair warm until Imus returns, probably after the summer.

He’ll be back, I’m telling you.

UPDATE (Friday, 4/20) - Bernard has been fired, and apparently was not at WFAN.

And sitting there, patting themselves on the back, are the fine folks at Media Matters for America a so-called “watchdog” group that got the Imus ball rolling in the first place two weeks ago. Twenty-six year-old Ryan Chiachiere gets the booby prize, as it was he who listened to the “nappy” comment and put the machine in motion. Guess that’s his job, and I suppose their mission is noble in theory, but I’ve also heard plenty of rhetoric about them as well. I’ll reserve judgment, but Rush Limbaugh (who I am NOT, repeat NOT, a fan of) called them “Stalinist” and part of the “Clinton machine agenda.” I’ll leave this subject at this: like I said, we have a national tragedy on our hands today, and Media Matters is more concerned with the ongoing Imus story, among other things. You’ll have to scroll a bit before you see a mention of the coverage of Virginia Tech.

OK, let’s move along again. So, I guess the great Mariano’s career is over, right? I mean if Marco Scutaro can hit a game-winning homer against you, then we’ve begun the decline of civilization, right?

Scutaro was hitting .059 when he stepped up against Mo. He’s now hitting .095.

It seems that people fell into two categories this week: those who were cleaning up post-storm messes and those who weren’t.

Media reports made New Rochelle out to be like a war zone, with a state of emergency existing in the Queen City. It would stand to reason that my office would have been closed, and that it would have been very hard for me to get to work, right?

Wrong. They were opened, and many said that roads (the right ones – like I-95, 287, and 684) were passable. A little patience was needed.

Oh well, a day’s pay got lost on Monday, but I look like a good son for cleaning out my mother’s basement and building a new trench for her.

As for my own fun, it began at 1:15 AM with the sound of raining pelting the roof of The Wife’s house (it’s not mine, of course. If she reads this, please know, dear, that it is sass).

Believe me, I am hardly complaining; just telling a story. In places like New Rochelle and Mamaroneck, it was bad. Really bad. My heart goes out to those people.

So Bernie Williams, how does that decision to not go to spring training look now? You could have been playing a whole lot with the various Yankees injuries. Instead, the only thing you’re playing is a guitar.

I frankly have never liked reality shows, but I’m loving the Sanjaya controversy. This guy apparently has the talent of your average Karaoke singer and he continues to survive week after week. It’s driving the AI faithful crazy, and that’s what people like me are enjoying about it. That being said, they’re absolutely elated now that he’s gone. Adios.

Personally, give me “Deal or No Deal.”

When I’m not watching, “The Sopranos”, of course.

The NHL playoffs are off and running and the entertainment value is high. You probably wouldn’t know because you’re probably not watching. And that’s too bad.

I’m not going to tell you that I’m watching every game, but I’ve definitely got my finger on the pulse.

Yet with the Rangers sweeping the Thrashers out of the Garden, watch out for Rangers mania. Unfortunately that’s the bandwagon mentality, but the loyal Rangers fans have been there all along, and they might be the best in New York.

Oh, and you can listen to NHL games for free on their website.

The Wife and I tried a new “hang out” last Saturday (OK, it’s a bar, but I didn’t want to call it that). It’s called Vintage, and it’s in White Plains. In theory, it was OK, but I wasn’t totally blown away by it. It had a good collection of taps, and cover (which I’m not a fan of but understand why it’s charged) was a reasonable five dollars. Still the band was just so-so. Nothing more than a nice-sounding bar band, which is another way of calling it “background music.” None of their stuff made us want to get up and dance. Then again, there wasn’t a dance floor anyway.

I’d go back, but I wouldn’t make a special trip for it.

The 60th anniversary of Jackie Robinson’s debut with the Brooklyn Dodgers was this past Sunday, and there’s no way to ever downplay the cultural significance of that moment, or the grace with which Robinson conducted himself. That is the reason that Robinson was chosen by Branch Rickey to be the player to cross the color line in 1947. There were other Negro League players that were better (Josh Gibson and Satchel Page both come to mind) but few could do it with as much class as Jackie. I don’t think he is the most significant person of the 20th Century, as some has tried to say (Dr. King’s name springs to mind, along with a few others), but there’s no doubt that he was the right man for the awesome responsibility.

You know there’s a “but” coming here, don’t you?

But…I stay strong in my belief that Robinson’s number 42 should have never been retired across baseball. Not so long as Babe Ruth’s number 3 is still used, for instance (not by the Yankees, of course). Plus it creates a politically correct precedence that can be dangerous. Puerto Ricans, for instance, want to retire Roberto Clemente’s number 21. Where does it stop?

I think it probably stopped with Robinson, to be honest. On Sunday, players were allowed to wear the number 42 as it was unretired for the day. The Dodgers, Brewers, Cardinals, and a few other teams wore the number en masse. Others had a few representatives. Willie Randolph will wear it for the Mets (their game was rained out). Joe Torre, Derek Jeter, Robinson Cano and Mariano Rivera wore it for the Yankees (Rivera, it should be noted, is the only active player who continues to wear the number). I thought the tribute might have gotten a touch watered-down but unfortunately, as we’ve learned, if you go against the popular PC opinion, you’re condemned. Only Peter Abraham in The Journal News dared to say that he disagreed with the way the tribute was handled as well. Baseball has the most glorious history of any sport, despite the travesty of the color barrier. Yet when it has a chance to do something noble, the sport seems to botch it up.

Incidentally, Rachel Robinson, “Jack’s” wonderful widow, was initially not in favor of the number retirement when it happened in 1997. Now she likes it, and feels that Sunday’s tribute was fitting and well-done.

The ceremony at Dodger Stadium, attended by Rachel Robinson, was largely perfect, but a few things stand out to me. First, because it was broadcast on ESPN, we had to endure Stuart Scott. Joe Morgan, frankly, would have been a better choice. Secondly, while people were interested in the ceremony, Dodger Stadium had a lot of empty seats during the tribute. Third, and this is most interesting to me, was who got the loudest and longest standing ovation. Not Mrs. Robinson and not even Hank Aaron or Frank Robinson, who threw out ceremonial first pitches. The person who got the loudest ovation was none other than Vincent Edward Scully, the long-time legendary Dodgers broadcaster, who seemed downright embarrassed by the attention.

Oh, one postscript to the ceremony was Jennifer Hudson, who cracked windows at Chavez Ravine with her rendition of our National Anthem.

All of this, while being so PC indicates that we have a lot to do with regard to race in this country. And that, friends, means work from BOTH sides. Not just whites, or blacks, but everybody, and not because we need to just eliminate racism but every “ism.”

Oh, nice of the Rutgers coach, C Vivian Stringer, to say that she’s signed a book deal. I know her story is quite unique, but could she maybe say “no” to an interview request once in a while? Will she give a cut to Imus, or let him write the forward?

Solidarity, Sanjaya fans!

And So It Ends: CBS Fires Imus

The headline says it all. I have nothing to add, except to add my congratulations to Al and Jesse, who I know will now apologize for Tawana Brawley and "Hymietown", and do everything in their power to clean up music and other entertainment that exploits PEOPLE, not just minorities. And since Ms. Winfrey has gotten involved, I'm sure she will be building a school here in the US, right?

I'm sure NBC and CBS, part of conglomerates that put out said music and entertainment, will also clean up their acts.

A lot of skeletons to be dealt with here in the United States of Hypocrisy. God bless us all.

PS - Imus's radiothon, which will be hosted by Charles McCord and Deirdre Imus tomorrow, is on pace for a record. Hmmm...

Watch for the pendulum to swing, folks, and for the cowboy hat to rise again.

RUMOR TIME!!

This is STRICTLY A RUMOR, and not something that, as a reporter, I prefer to report, but since this topic has been so over the top, I will tell you exactly what I have heard, and hope that the rumor is just that.

This, coming from Allan Sniffen (former DJ on K104 "back in the day"), who is the creator of perhaps the greatst radio tribute site, Musicradio 77 WABC, and the moderator of the New York Radio Message Board, is reporting the following:

I'm hearing Imus will be gone after tomorrow's show. I can't be more specific than that nor can I say this is absolute fact. I can say that I *think* it's true as I'm hearing it from more than one source. When this will be officially announced is not clear.

Scott Fybush, who writes the tremendous North East Radio Watch, says that he is hearing the same thing. All I can say is that it is sad that smart media companies are allowing this to happen, but the advertisers are the ones who are speaking. Unfortunately it also gives power to those who should have no power at all. The question becomes, assuming this is all true, is what next for the I-Crew? Do they follow Opie and Anthony and head to satellite? Will some other outlet pick them up?

I'll say this - if they do go to satellite, I don't know how much more terrestrial radio I'll listen to. To me, WFAN will now be a waste of time, with only Mike and the Mad Dog of interest to me. The rest of the station is largely unlistenable. I listen to WCBS (880 AM) for traffic and weather together, but I can get that on satellite as well. As for music, I really only listen to The Peak and maybe a few other stations. All of that is accessible at...you guessed it! Satellite.

In the meantime, the radiothon this morning was doing exceptionally well, and I suspect it will continue on pace with last year, if not surpass it. It's going on over at WFAN.

There has been so much rhetoric, and much of it has been brutal. Some, on the other hand, has been spot on. Here's Jason Whitlock's take, from the Kansas City Star.

Imus off MSNBC

MSNBC announced a few hours ago that they are ending their satellite of the Imus in the Morning program. This is due to the number of advertisers who have pulled their spots from the show, though NBC News is saying that they are upholding a certain standard.

I'm talked out about the subject.

Time To Move Along (or Off The Bench)

Back to reality, I suppose.

So A-Rod, what have you been up to lately? I'm guessing from the chorus of "boos" that you haven't been coming through in the clutch lately.

Wait...what do you mean he hit a game-winning grand slam last Saturday?

I'm sorry that My Mets won't be going 173-0, after dropping a couple in Atlanta. Still 171-2 is possible, right?

Hank Aaron has announced that he will not be playing any role in celebrating Barry Bonds passing his home run record this season. Good for him. We need more people like the Hammer.

No, not MC Hammer.

I love the NHL, but they really don't use their heads in the league office. Why would they schedule the Rangers, Islanders, and Devils to all play game one of their respective playoff series on the same night? It would be good for metro New Yorkers to be able to see these games. Oh well.

Guess the Knicks can save the "Welcome to the playoffs" speech for another season.

And hope those ping pong balls don't go well for them, because the Eddie Curry trade might then look legendarily bad.

As opposed to really bad.

Glad we all know who the father of Anna Nicole's baby is now. I'm sleeping better as a result.

After gathering all of the evidence, I've decided that Pacman Jonesis a man I want to party with.

Speaking of which, how about the Duke lacrosse players getting cleared? The prosecutor dropped all the charges.

While we wage war on this country on tedious subjects, let's get back to the world at home, with this headline that I just read: "Iran may be helping Iraqis build bombs."

Puts things back into some sort of normalcy, no?

Contributing to the Chaos

As I sit here in the Queen City of the Golden Apple, I sometimes think of Bill O’Shaughessy, the owner and on-air personality at WVOX (“vox populi”) in New Rochelle. For that, to hear my friends tell it is how Mr. O’Shaughnessy refers to “New Ro.” I’ve never met him, but have read and heard quite a but about him. Regardless, Bill O’Shaughessy, he of the ego the size of which matches the size of New Rochelle itself, was quoted in The Journal News today as saying would not have suspended Don Imus, as the firestorm continues.

"Imus misfired, there's no question about it," said O'Shaughnessy, the president and CEO of Whitney Radio, which owns WVOX (1460 AM) in New Rochelle. "But should Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton be threatening his livelihood? I don't think so."

I must admit that I initially bristled as I read the article, figuring that Mr. O’Shauhnessy, along with countless others who have lined up to criticize Imus, would take him down also. It seems that nobody has the guts to come out and say that this is a witch hunt. Those paragons of brilliance at ESPN Radio, Mike and Mike in the morning, went so far as to say that what’s great about this is society is deciding. You know, the court of public opinion.

Say what?

To be specific, it was Mike Greenberg who said this, and I’ll be the first to say that he’s just another in a long line of clowns that baffle me as to how he got his job in the first place. But there he was, and it astounded me to the point that I tried to dial into their show, to no avail. Al Shaprton, along with Jesse Jackson, and the media as a whole has been telling the court of public opinion how to react. Glad to see that they got to Mike and Mike and properly brainwashed them. Let’s ask the question to these men, and all of the other hypocrites. Did you react like this when you first heard the comments, or after the storm began to build? You know, because you were SUPPOSED to be upset by the comments, otherwise, you should be condemned as well. Because if you weren’t offended at first, then you are just feigning outrage.

Then all credibility was lost when Stuart Scott appeared with these two jokers and said that, despite his apology, that Don Imus really meant these words; they’re in his heart. Oh, thanks Stu. Glad to see you know so much about the topic. BOOYAH, you jackass.

I was gone.

Now let’s talk about the young women on the Rutgers team. I heard their press conference yesterday, and admire them for willing to meet with Imus, at an undisclosed time and location. I think that is extremely mature of them, especially after reading that one of the young girls’ mothers wouldn’t accept the apology. Clearly her daughter has more decency than she does. That’s where I wonder about a lot of this outrage, and where it’s coming from. I’ve met plenty of 17 and 18 year-old athletes in both high school and college. They don’t care the first thing about what some idiot in the media is saying about them. They care about their coaches, their teammates, their opponents, and their personal responsibilities. It’s only after their parents (or Al Shapton) or the media tell them that they should be angry that something comes of it.

It goes back to the concept of “Oh, Snap!” Maybe you remember that from the 90’s when these comedians (black, by the way) would hurl insults and end the line with “Oh, snap!” That’s where the sticks and stones, and the overwhelming sensitivity of society come in to play. Imus’s comment was idiotic (along with Bernard McGuirk, who’s getting off easy, if you ask me) but was nothing more than a street slang comment. If Chris Rock had said it? No biggie – then it’s a comedy bit by a black comedian. Once again though, let me be clear - all of this is no excuse.

Oh, and before I finish with the Rutgers team, let me just say this. The idea that they are a group of PRIVATE women is ludicrous. We know how college athletics is in 2007 – it’s a big business. The minute you hit the hardwood and your games are on ESPN and so on, you’re now public. Now they are not public to the extent that, say, Imus is, but they still have some notoriety, and a responsibility to uphold an image for Rutgers. I’m not implying that they haven’t done so. They seem to be extremely honorable women who are going to have very productive lives. Their efforts in the NCAA tournament were wonderful, and their grace in this situation is remarkable.

Everybody seems to have a dog in this fight, and I’d love to be as perfect as those who are holding Imus in contempt because they’ve clearly never said or done anything bad. Whoopi Goldberg condemned Imus before she was asked about the Ted Danson blackface thing from years ago. She ended the interview immediately. Yes, there have been sponsors dropping off, and that is their right. Bigelow tea, Staples, Proctor and Glamble. My right is to then make sure that they don’t get my business, right? And what of the guests? Already Cal Ripken Jr – who had never been on the Imus show – cancelled his appearance. I have no issue with this, but I’m also not going to make him into a hero for it. I would have had more respect for him if he had appeared on the show, and maybe one day he will, but no harm either way. Instead I’m more impressed by those who have rallied, as I suggested the other day that they should. Senator John McCain has already said he’ll be on the show. Mike Barnicle and Jeff Greenfield were on. Rudy Guiliani supports him. Bill Maher and James Carville do the same. These people all showed their willingness to forgive – another thing we seem to have forgotten how to do. There are so many other things worth getting upset about.

I can’t tell you who else has been on the show because frankly I haven’t been listening to every minute, since this topic is sickening me (yet here I am writing about it again). On the Michael Kay Show on ESPN Radio, Spike Lee appeared initially to correct some of the rhetoric being used. Part of the comments from Bernard McGuirk were lifted from Lee’s move, School Daze. Lee wanted no part of that and in the process said that the entire Imus show should be fired. He also said that it will be interesting to see who appears on the show going forward. He bet Barack Obama and Hillary Rodham Clinton would not appear.

OK, I’m going to speak s-l-o-w-l-y for you, Spike. Just last Friday, Don Imus told Donald Trump that Hillary Rodham Clinton will never…let’s repeat…never be on the Imus in the Morning Program. That’s not jive; he’s been saying that for probably 10 years or more. Mrs. Clinton said she would never go on the show after this. Listen up – Satan! You were NEVER going to be invited in the first place, even though that man played a huge role in you’re being in public office, and that is a point that you would be stupid to deny.

Again, what this proves is that most people don’t know the deal. Those who listen to the show get it. Writers like Bob Raissmann, Filip Bondy and Lisa Olson in the New York Daily News are complete hypocrites. What the hell do they know? Yet there they are, jumping on the bandwagon because they think it’s the right thing to do. God forbid any of these people have an original thought or dare to go against the masses. The Daily News, once home to great writers from Dick Young on down, has gone down. Long the paper that I read when my father got home at night, it is now the home of Mike Lupica (who also infuriates me but is a great writer), Bill Madden and not much more.

Now as for Mr. Imus himself, let me say that I’m not absolving him of any wrongdoing. Unfortunately we have learned in 2007 that there is a clear double standard. You can not just say anything anymore because people can’t handle it. We, as a society, have lost our sense of humor. Pick on anybody you want, but just don’t pick on me or my people – that’s the lesson – especially if there’s a powerful ally with the media in his back pocket. As a result, Don Imus should have (and frankly does) know better. Now he has to rebuild his image, if it is possible. That being said, he needs to shut up about it. Despite what Chris Russo said, I have no problem with his apology, which began in earnest on Friday. Russo feels that the apology should have begun immediately after the comment (which was made last Wednesday). Sometimes it’s not that easy. On Thursday, Imus said that people shouldn’t take things so seriously (obiviousle I agree with him here) but once the outrage began, he started apologizing. No problems there.

My issue with Imus is the loss of fire. Watching him nearly cry on Monday was tough enough, but listening to him continue to repeat himself on the topic, and defend his record has gotten tedious. He has become like A-Rod, not knowing when to shut up. Not knowing when to say (as he has too many times over the years), "no mas." As it has been proven, there are countless, respectable people willing to come to his defense (including right here). I wish, honestly, that the suspension had begun on Tuesday, for his own sake. A lot of the furor would have died down. I would have been OK with him coming back and doing the radiothon on Thursday and Friday, but I think his getting out of the spotlight would have been good for all parties. Instead the storm continues. Let the guests come on and smack him around a bit, then offer up their support. He doesn’t need to defend his honor. That’s where I think he has looked sad.

Oh one last thing. This issue is between Don Imus and the Rutgers women’s basketball team. Nobody else. Not the pundits, the critics, the Today show, Larry King, Al Sharpton, Jesse Jackson, the person walking down below on Harrison Street. Not even me.

Back to Mike Lupica, and that’s how I will end this. As a friend of Imus who has sparred with him in the past, but knows the true man, I want you to read his column from today. It says many of the things that I feel as well, especially in regards to the Rutgers women, who showed immeasurable grace, and a willingness to listen and understand. Everyone should be that smart – starting with those in the media.

More: Imus Suspended

Don Imus has been suspended by both CBS Radio and MSNBC, effective Monday, April 16. I have written several things about this topic already, and had another post ready to go, but want to take a night to sleep on it because my blood is boiling so much right now that I want to be careful before I say anything foolish. I will offer that I think something is very wrong in our society and that we should all take a moment and look ourselves in the mirror. I also think MSNBC and CBS Radio capitulated to Al Sharpton out of fear, yet this man, along with Jesse Jackson, has no credibility whatsoever. One has uttered flat-out lies and the other called New York "Hymietown", yet neither had their feet held to the fire. I'm ashamed. Think twice before you listen to or watch these media outlets. Other than that, I will say no more...for now.

Sleep well, all.

Follow-up: Imus Appears on Sharpton's Radio Show

Don Imus appeared on Al Sharpton's radio show today and there was apparently nothing pleasant about it. The following comes from AllAccess.com:

In a contentious exchange, IMUS, who said "Our agenda is to be funny and sometimes we go too far. And this time we went way too far," denied SHARPTON's contention that he was getting off "unscathed" by apologizing for the comments, asking SHARPTON, "Are you crazy? How am I unscathed? Don't you think I've been humiliated?" "I'm trying to meet with these young women and the coach to ask for forgiveness," IMUS told SHARPTON.

"If I'd have been thinking, I wouldn't have said this," IMUS said of his comments, but the talk veered into a discussion of sickle cell anemia fundraising (IMUS said, "I bet I can raise a lot more money than you all can," with SHARPTON retorting that "before last WEDNESDAY you could") and several past incidents on IMUS' show.

Rep. CAROLYN CHEEKS KILPATRICK (D-MI), Chairman of the CONGRESSIONAL BLACK CAUCUS, called in to voice her offense at IMUS' comments, adding "I don't know what it does to young children" to hear IMUS' comments. "We don't call it nappy hair- that's a child thing,' she said. "We call it good hair, and curly." She added that "Mr. IMUS doesn't understand the impact" of his comments, and said he and his crew "need to be fired."

KILPATRICK suggested that Congress should regulate speech on the airwaves and on MSNBC, and continued to rip IMUS for insulting women in general, leading IMUS to complain in exasperation, "I can't get anyplace with you people," drawing SHARPTON to suggest that the term "you people" meant something racist, which IMUS vehemently objected, saying that he clearly meant SHARPTON and KILPATRICK.

The part I want to stress is the last one. If you don't think Al Sharpton doesn't have a reversed racist agenda, when he feels the words "you people" are racist, then I don't know what to tell you. Oh, and nice of Al to have both sides of a story on. Make sure that Al Sharpton and Rep. Kilpatrick, both black, get to go off and beat up on the white guy. Fair and balanced, my arse.

One other thing - government should stay the hell out of broadcasting. Congress should regulate speech? What next for the government? We're heading towards being like the Soviets.

This story will continue to simmer, I'm afraid.

Stick and Stones

I’ve been called a lot of things. Fat. Stupid. Gay (or worse). Dumb. Another name for “Richard.” An a-hole. An F’ing a-hole. An idiot. Biased. Phony. A Mets fan.

And worse. I remember a teacher calling me “a little jerk” once. I’m sure I’ve been called a bad son, or a bad friend, or a bad father, or a bad husband (maybe not fair, but that’s what an opinion is). Yet for some reason, while some of it has hurt (especially the “fat” comments), I’m still breathing and generally, still surviving. It’s part of the game of life. I’ve called people things as well, because if I take it, then I can give it. My feeling has long been that life is about having a sense of humor, and without it, you’re shot.

I guess because I’m not a black basketball player, I have no right to get upset though. Why? Because we have another example of political correctness, and race relations in America running amok. Last Wednesday, on the Imus in the Morning radio program, while discussing the Rutgers women’s hoops program with producer Bernard McGuirk. the following exchange occurred:

"That's some rough girls from Rutgers," Imus said. "Man, they got tattoos..."

"Some hardcore hos," McGuirk said.

"That's some nappy-headed hos there, I'm going to tell you that," Imus said.

This was business as usual on IITM. No racism intended, just picking on whatever comes up. Yet by Thursday, Imus felt compelled to apologize, albeit informally. By Friday, he apologized again, with a written statement that he read on the program, which is carried on more than 70 radio stations, streamed on the internet, and televised live on MSNBC. That did not do enough to stave off the oncoming racial freight train, headed by…wait for it…the Rev Al Sharpton. Sharpton, along with Jesse Jackson, many in the media, and the NAACP, called for Imus’s dismissal. This morning, the entire show was dedicated to more apologizing:

"Here's what I've learned: that you can't make fun of everybody, because some people don't deserve it. And because the climate on this program has been what it's been for 30 years doesn't mean it's going to be what it's been for the next five years or whatever.

I'm not a bad person. I'm a good person, but I said a bad thing. But these young women deserve to know it was not said with malice."

Here’s what slays me: had this been said about an all-white women’s team, it would have been brushed off. Call Hilary Clinton “Satan”, and it’s no big deal. Call Oprah Winfrey “Satan” and look out, though I would offer that Mrs. Clinton has done more for the US than Ms. Winfrey. Conversely, Ms. Winfrey has done more for South Africa, but I’m getting off course here.

It’s so easy to brand a white person as a racist. It happens all the time (I pray I have never been called that, but again, it is easy to throw words around). I’ve been critical of the resignation of Jackie Robinson’s number in baseball, but does that make me a racist? It makes me honest, and a realist, and a baseball purist, and an historian but it does NOT make me a racist. I’m not going to sit here and pull the “Some of my closest friends are African-Americans” because what purpose would it make? Just as it would make no purpose to review the recent post I wrote about legendary coach Eddie Robinson, which I received some nice praise for. It’s irrelevant. I know in my heart what I am, and I think Don Imus know what he is as well.

You’ve got to know the person to understand the person, and to be able to judge them. While I don’t truly know Don Imus (having been in his presence all of twice, and I think I might have said two words to him), I’ve listened to his show for over a quarter of a century, and if there’s one thing he is not, it is a racist. When Hurricane Katrina struck New Orleans, and the reaction to the plight of the Lower Ninth Ward was anything buy swift, it was Imus who said that it was racism (a point that I disagreed then and now with). It is Imus who has played Dr. King’s “I Have A Dream” speech every year on the holiday that bears Dr. King’s name. It is Imus who has worked tirelessly for Sickle Cell Anemia research, and built a ranch for kids with cancer (regardless of race), and became a surrogate father to many of those children. It is Imus who screamed about the death benefits for soldiers’ families, and the deplorable conditions at VA hospitals across the country. Was he only lobbying for the Caucasian families? Hardly. He counts former congressman Harold Ford, Jr as an ally. He played the sermons of the late Bishop GE Patterson on his show. He had the Blind Boys of Alabama (a black musical group) on the show. He often played rap songs that a white guy like me had never heard. All of which, by the way, he was criticized for, by management, peers, and fans. Yet he did not waver.

To fire him or punish him for this would be beyond absurd, and it is now time for those who have supported him in the past to step up. Already, media people like Evan Thomas, Howard Fineman and Tom Oliphant have come to his defense. I suspect that we will soon hear from Tim Russert, James Carville, Mary Matalin, Jeff Greenfield, Paul Begalla, and others who will remind us all that the spirit of the show is rooted in humor – often mean-spirited, but the targets are always the same, and nobody gets shredded more than Imus himself. Many of these supporters will regard last weeks comments as a mistake, or deplorable, or whatever, but they will continue to support a man who they feel is decent and benevolent. They will speak out against the comments (lest they be branded a racist, or attached to the comments themselves). On the show, Chris Carlin will remain known as “fat”, McGuirk will be a “bald-headed Nazi”, Lou Ruffino will be a “runt” and Charles McCord will be a “four-eyed geek.” That is how it has always been in Imus-land. In comedy bits, or in the average show conversation, any one of the Imus cast would wish for demise of their leader. For instance, “Cardinal Egan” (McGuirk) will say “In the name of the father, the son, and the holy ghost. The Iman in a casket we want the most.” Unfortunately, based on this morning, I can already tell that the tone will change, because Imus did the one thing that nobody can do – make fun of a black person.

I’ve spewed about Sharpton before, and will do so again now. Has he ever apologized for being a part of a reverse-racism prank on all of us in 1987 with the Tawana Brawley episode? He defended that hoax, and was part of trying to ruin the reputations of many honorable people. Yet that’s OK. Instead that propelled him to fame beyond his wildest dreams. I don’t want to dislike or distrust Reverend Sharpton, and should follow the lead of Imus, who does like him, and speaks very highly of him, including this morning. I have a feeling I might like the man if I ever had a chance to grab a cup of coffee with him, and I shouldn't judge him because I don't know him, so perhaps I'm not being fair. Yet I just see no good whenever Reverend Sharpton appears somewhere.

Today, Don Imus will appear on his Al Sharpton’s radio program (more like his propaganda show) and will be contrite, but to his credit, I suspect he will also do as he did on his show this morning: remind people that he has done a lot of good (and will continue to do so this week, when he hosts his annual multi-million dollar radiothon). There is talk that Sharpton will then come on the Imus show tomorrow, and that the Rutgers women will talk to him down the road. All OK, I guess, but I found it strange and disheartening to listen to Imus nearly cry for fifteen minutes this morning as he apologized again, and I suppose it will continue that way for a while, as the furor dies down. I can tell that the show will change quite definitively. It will no longer be OK to make fun of everyone. There have been a few serious changes over the years on Imusin the Morning. The first was the move in the late 80's away from playing music to talk. The second, while subtle, was when Imus married Deirdre Coleman. The tone of the show changed signficantly. Now with this, there will be an almost-nervous attempt to soldier on. What does that say to those who have been loyal for all of these years. In my mind, I only think Don Imus should apologize for upsetting those who are politically correct and overly sensitive. Unfortunately we live in a time when everyone (present company often included) is too sensitive and uptight.

Lastly, and they’re always the easiest targets, but the media has nothing to be proud of. As usual, they’ve hopped on the liberal bandwagon. They love fanning the flames of an issue like this, and they’re practically orgasmic about this one. A chance to curry favor with Reverend Al, keep propagating the idea of racism in America, and heave some hate on a so-called “shock jock?” Well count us in! As you read, listen, or watch their work in these upcoming days, consider whether or not they have truly ever listened to Don Imus. I guarantee you that they have not. And ask them if they would have gotten this bent out of shape had the comments been made about a white team in, say, Montana or Wyoming.

Once again, we have learned that literally every word spoken theses days must be measured, as our society keeps heading toward hell in a handbag. I return to the things that my parents taught me as insults and teasing comments were thrown at me, and like a religious chant, we should all say them now:

“Sticks and stones may break my bones, but names will never hurt me.”

Maybe not, but the whole thing makes me sick.

The Passing of a Legend

Eddie Robinson isn’t a name that many people know. Among sports fans, Robinson’s name is not a household word, despite the fact that he was the head football coach at Grambling State University for 57 years and was, at the time of his retirement in 1997, the winningest head coach in the history of college football.

People should know who Eddie Robinson was. I submit that he might have been the most important African American in sports. And by that, I mean more so than another Robinson – Jackie. For it was Eddie Robinson who was there first, built a program frfom the very dirt up, and did so was grace and class.

Robinson died late Tuesday night in Louisiana at the age of 88. He had been suffering from Alzheimer’s disease for almost a decade.

As the tributes begin to pour in, you see the scope of this man’s accomplishments: 408 wins, over 200 players made the NFL, largely trouble-free career (until the end, which was admittedly ugly). He coached the man who would become his successor and the first African American to win a Super Bowl at the quarterback position, Doug Williams. He coached multiple NFL hall of fame legends. And again, he did so in a way that was not flashy. He was just a humble leader.

Consider when he took over as the head coach at the school, it was known as the Louisiana Negro Normal and Industrial Institute. Can you imagine that? Thankfully the name would change to Grambling State University. In the early years, Coach Robinson would do it all himself. Put the lines on the field. Make sandwiches for his players, who could not eat in “white only” restaurants in the South. If a player got banged up, there was no trainer to come to the rescue. It was all up to the coach.

Here’s some more for you to ponder. Robinson came from an uneducated house. His parents didn’t finish high school, and his father worked as a cotton sharecropper. It was everything that speaks of a stereotype, but Robinson’s parents wanted more. They encouraged young Eddie to get his education, which he did, at Leland College. As a quarterback there, Robinson began studying to be a coach. He would take over the eventual Grambling program in 1941.

I discovered a quote while reading up on Coach Robinson today, and it speaks volumes about him, and the way he dealt with the obvious inequalities that our world works to overcome:

"The best way to enjoy life in America is to first be an American, and I don't think you have to be white to do so. Blacks have had a hard time, but not many Americans haven't."

There was more:

"The framers of this Constitution, now they did some things. "If you aren't lazy, they fixed it for you. You've got to understand the system. It's just like in football, if you don't understand the system, you haven't got a chance."

Pretty eloquent, eh? No feeling sorry for anybody. Just accepting that things are wrong, and we need to do things about it.

How about this great story, courtesy of Marty Mulè in the New Orleans Times-Picayune : In 1945 the father of two Tigers, (“Our best running backs,” Robinson recalled,) pulled his sons off the team, explaining he needed them to pick cotton. “So I got all the boys on the team, we packed up and we went out there and picked the cotton.”

As their popularity grew, Robinson would take the Tigers on the road, placing them in the country’s biggest stadiums. Grambling would visit the LA Coliseum, the Astrodome, Tokyo and Yankee Stadium. I can remember Grambling making an annual New York-area appearance for a long time. Of course to many, our only real exposure to Grambling occurred every year when the Bayou Classic is shown on TV, pitting the Tigers against Southern University at the Louisiana Superdome. The game would be as famous for the performance of the two schools awesome marching bands at halftime as it would be for the game itself.

Initially, Robinson’s team was not successful, winning just three games in 1941. In his second year, the Tigers went 9-0 and did not allow a point. That’s right. Zero points against.

Championships and more football acclaim would follow, but Robinson would not go out gracefully. His players would graduate, and become great men themselves. But as the 1990’s moved along, Grambling would hit the skids. The team would have consecutive losing seasons, and off the field problems would include an NCAA investigation into recruiting violations, and rape charges against four players. Many called for Robinson’s dismissal. He was given one more season, when even the governor of Louisiana intervened, asking for a chance to let Coach Robinson depart gracefully. It was not a happy ending as the Tigers won just three games, just like they did in 1941.

Don’t let these missteps dim your view of this man. Eddie Robinson did it right, but perhaps because he was a modest man, didn’t get the total acclaim that he was worthy of. In fact his passing isn’t even the top story on many sportscasts today. Even I would admit that it should be reported before mentioning the Yankees being rained out against the Devil Rays. The impact that Eddie Robinson had on blacks, on the South, on football, and on America and the world should not be minimized. He should be celebrated, and discussed with the great people of the 20th century.

I thought you should know.

I Am Not Worthy

Effective today, I will be moving downstairs to live with Fred (the always escaping cat), if he'll have me. This is because The Wife demonstrated her prowess by winning the March Madness pool that we both entered at her job. I am tremendously proud of her for doing this (and with no help from me, by the way) but this now proves that I know nothing about sports, and as such, am no longer worthy of occupying the same bedroom. I bow to her greatness.

OK, except for the part about being really happy for her winning, I'm kidding.

What this proves is why March Madness, and the accompanying bracketology is one of the truly best things about sports. Throw 64 teams (not counting the play-in game) and see what comes out. Some years we see upsets galore. I got burned trying to pick those upsets. Pick according to the better seeds, uniform colors, places you've been, and schools that you like, and you too might win. That, according to the newly-named genius of the hoops, was her MO.

In the meantime, I really didn't want to write this, because when it has come to the major events of 2007 (along with a lot of other stuff), I've been a "Gloomy Gus." The college football National Championship? Awful. The Super Bowl? Stinker. The Grammy's? Boring. The Oscars? Lame. And now we have the men's basketball National Championship.

I can't say anything nice about it, either.

It was dreadful. In fact, I skipped a large chunk of each half because there was nothing to pull me in. Thanks to Direct TV for giving us a preview of their "MLB Extra Innings" package, I watched a lot of the opener between the Angels and Rangers. And I glanced at "Deal or No Deal." I think I might have stared off into space, and listened to The Wife tell me about her day at work at other times.

Anyway, seriously, congrats to The Wife. I think it's pretty cool. If she could spare a few bucks for me, that would be great. Fred and I will need to eat in the basement, and he doesn't like to share his cat food.

EDITOR’S NOTE – Personal rant warning!

OK, changing subjects. I am once again trying to lose weight, and have begun a vicious effort to find a new career/job/happiness. I won't reveal the numbers, but I have some weight goals in mind. I've been diligent about doing a small workout every day, and getting some walking in. It's not much, but it's a start. What I was reminded of was that, besides being a total wreck, I couldn't rely on anybody, even if only for moral support. Yes a few people reached out to me, and their efforts were appreciated, but I have to do this myself. The reality was that I wasn’t doing enough to find a job. I wasn’t really digging deep. I also wasn’t doing anything to help my health. I've heard one too many fat jokes made about me (Ricky Fritsch knows where I'm going here) and even had a crack made about my weight at my father in-law's birthday party a few weeks back. I can’t dwell on these and other hurtful comments because they will consume me. That does me no good at all.

OK, I get it. I have a weight problem. I don't think it's necessarily fair to call me "fat" but yes, I need to be concerned. Family history is all that you need to know. That is not to say that I will stay this motivated - maybe that's where the encouraging words of friends and loved ones would be nice - but I like the fact that I feel refreshed and a little more confident. Even though I've maybe lost a pound since I've started this, I like what I see a little better, because there’s a fire in my eyes again. The weekend was so good for me in that I did all kinds of things around the house, including helping to install our garage door opener. Even when I didn’t want to work out, or my muscles were hurting too much, I still did it. No pats on the back for me yet. There’s a long way to go. Roughly 20 resumes have gone flying from my keyboard as well, so there's hope.

I realized that although I’m no monster, I was not the best person that I could be. At times I was harsh and very judgmental. I wasn’t being fair. My temper was worse than ever. I was (am) paranoid, uptight, blah blah blah (not to be confused with Joanne’s Blah Blah Blog). I wasn’t using my head – you know, that thing three feet above my arse. It was, in fact, stuck up my arse. I can tell you where a lot of this came from, but why bother? Time to just move on, and learn from the mistakes. Beating myself up isn’t going to help. I know I can only help myself. The bottom line is that, while I was the throws of these issues, I was hurting the people I love and care for the most. I only hope I haven't done irreparable damage.

Incidentally, all of this is nice, but I think I need to prove it to all of you, and myself. As the saying goes, actions speak louder than words.

1-0

It wasn't pretty, to say the very least, but the Yankees got off to a good start in 2007, defeating the Devil Rays at Yankee Stadium, 9-5. Carl Pavano was OK on the mound, but has a long way to go. In fact, other than Mariano Rivera, not a single pitcher impressed me on either team. Defensively the Bombers were embarrassing, committing three ugly errors - one for Alex Rodrgiuez, Derek Jeter and Josh Phelps.

The game was an emotional roller coaster from the get-go, as the Yankees were introduced to thunderous applause from the portion of the 55,000 plus on hand. For the record, Pavano and A-Rod received polite applause, including a big cheer for the much-maligned A-Rod. But to no surprise, the biggest ovations were reserved for the usual cast of characters: Andy Pettitte, Mariano Rivera, Don Mattingly, Joe Torre and Derek Jeter. Cory Lidle's widow and son threw out the first pitches. That, by the way, was botched by YES, as they apparently took their instructions from the ding-dongs at FOX. Yes was in commercial when the first pitch happened.

For me, the highlight (other than the win) came in the third inning when, to my surprise, Bobby Ray Murcer visited the booth. I did not think that Murcer, still recovering from brain cancer, would be able to make it to New York for the home opener. Looking sharp in a suit and tie, Murcer spent two innings laughing with Michael Kay, Ken Singleton and Joe Girardi. Murcer showed off a completely bald head, and was in good spirits. Girardi called Murcer "one of my idols growing up" when he was on the Cubs. Coincidentally or otherwise, when Girardi was with the Cubs, he wore number seven. Bobby Murcer wore number seven in Chicago, where he played from 1977 to 1979.

Rodriguez, as mentioned, served as his usual lightning rod. In the first, he completely overran a foul pop up, giving him the aforementioned error. In his first at bat, he struck out, allowing the boo birds to rear their ugly heads. Rodriguez would put the cherry on the afternoon though when he hit a long home run in the bottom of the eighth.

The bottom line is that the Yankees got the win, but there were lots of things to be troubled by. The teams play the second of three on Wednesday at one.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

Opening Day. It should be it’s own national holiday. And yes, I mean THE Opening Day. Not of trout season, or the Congressional session, or of the newest “Survivor”, but Opening Day of baseball season. Now don’t get me wrong. They played a game last night in St. Louis, and the Mets (MY Mets) beat the defending World Champion St. Louis Cardinals, 6-1. Nine more wins to 300 for Tom Glavine. But the point is (sorry, ESPN) that it is opening DAY, not opening NIGHT. For the record, I didn’t even like it when the Yankees opened at night a few years back against the Red Sox.

Opening Day used to mean a certain thing. It meant a parade in Cincinnati, home of the first professional baseball team. Cincinnati always got the season going, with a noon start before the rest of the games got underway an hour later. Until Bud Selig and ESPN got their grimy paws on it. I like Mr. Selig because he is an historian, but sometimes he has taken the beauty of tradition and promptly urinated on it with somebody’s dollars.

So here we are, looking at the real thing. In the Bronx, the bunting will be hanging and the pinstripes will be freshly pressed. They’ll stop wearing those god-awful hats from spring training and put on the classic, can’t-nobody-top-it navy hat with the white interlocking NY. The grass will look fantastic, and I’m sure there will be a fresh coat of paint somewhere on the big ballpark, now entering it’s (SOB) second-to-last season. I will be there on Friday, with The Son in tow. Mick and the gang (and some new faces) will join us in Section 5.

Incidentally, since I’ve mentioned the Yankees hat, I must query: what the hell was going on with the Mets helmets last night? Royal blue fading into black? Must we revisit the Colin Cowherd rant again? With that said, let us have a look-see at the predictions for 2007!

We’ll start in the National League East, where it will be all Mets, all the time. The kings of Queens will roll to a second-straight National League East title, especially after the D-train (known as Dontrelle Willis) arrives at Shea. The Phillies will come in second, and contend for the wild card, while the Braves, Marlins and the awful Nationals round out the division.

In the NL Central, there are two reasons I give the Cubs the edge over the Cardinals: first – it is very hard to repeat. And where are the Cards going to get the pitching from. Chris Carpenter hardly looked good last night. Second, Lou Piniella is a very good manager, and I suspect he will get the most out of the north siders. The Brewers will contend and could even be an upset special. I’ll give the Astros a punchers chance, and Pirates and Reds will round things out. This is not a pleasant division.

To the NL West, where I think the Padres have just enough to knock out the Dodgers. If Barry Zito can live up to his money and Barry Bonds is able to mask the juice, the Giants will be third, followed by Randy and the D-backs, and the Rockies. Apparently they’re still scheduled to play baseball in Denver.

In The American League East – surprise! – the Red Sox will win the division for the first time since 1995. Dice-K seems to be the real deal. My only question is how will he get through the dog days? The Japanese season is so much shorter than the US. The Yankees should get the wild card, but I just have too many questions about their pitching. Injuries and age will be a factor – just look at the start of the season for Chien Ming Wang and Andy Pettitte. Oh, and Carl Pavano gets the ball today? Puh-leeze! The Blue Jays will finish third, followed by the Orioles and Devil Rays.

In the AL Central, we see baseball’s new best division. I was picking the Tigers until Kenny Rogers went down for four months. So now I think we could see playoff baseball in two spots in Chicago. The White Sox will win, setting up both New York and Chicago teams as post-season participants. The Tigers will finish second, followed by the Twins, Indians and Royals.

In the West, the Angels are clearly the best team. The A’s will be OK, but not good enough. The Rangers and Mariners round out the division.

In the post-season, the Yankees will meet the White Sox, and I have no faith in them getting past the first round again. The White Sox will win, and Joe Torre and Alex Rodriguez will be those heading out of New York in the aftermath. The Red Sox will finish off the Angles. The Sox will then win the American League. Wait, you say! Which Sox? The Red ones.

Back to the NL, where the Phillies will get the wild card, and beat the Padres in the playoffs, while the Mets will beat the Cubs. The Mets will then beat the Phillies, en route to the World Series.

Let’s party like it’s 1986 all over again! The Red Sox and Mets will play for the title. Everybody Wang Chung tonight! And just like in ‘86, the Mets will win, as a ball will trickle under David Ortiz’s glove at first. Big Papi will be forced to play the field at Shea, thanks to the lack of a DH.

So there you have it. In fact, with last night’s win by the Metropolitans, I boldly predict two things. First – the Mets will go 173-0 (that’s 162 wins in the regular season, plus the 11 post-season games), and will wear 173 different uniforms – all of which are on sale at Mets shop near you!

Then again, I could be wrong.

Let’s get away from major league ball for a moment. I am proud to say that The Son will make his T-ball debut this week. Our first practice (since I’m the assistant coach) will be tomorrow, and our first game is this Saturday at Noon. The Son is not happy about it, but he was drafted by the Giants. Personally I’m fine with it, but he wanted to be a Yankee. Fortunately, nobody in the Carmel Sports Association Teeball Division can be a Yankee, or a Met, or a Red Sock. They don’t exist!

Also this week, my friend, coach Mike Mora, and the Greenwich High School Cardinals will start the 2007 season against the Norwalk Bears. I will try to get to some games, but will be playing a special role for the team, as I am their official statistician, after missing last year. It’s a lot of fun for me, so I’m looking forward to it.

Lastly, I just noticed that legendary Twins broadcaster Herb Carneal died yesterday at the age of 83. Mr. Carneal died of congestive heart failure. In one form or another, Carneal broadcast Twins fames for 45 years, and was scheduled to have limited duty again in 2007. He won the National Baseball Hall of Fame’s Ford C. Frick Award, which recognizes broadcasting excellence, in 1996. As I note Mr. Carneal’s passing, I’m glad to note that the great Mr. Scully continues his magic in Los Angeles. Vin Scully will begin his, gulp!, 58th season as the true voice of the Dodgers. The point is that there aren’t too many of the great giants of old-time play-by-play left. We must enjoy them while we still have them. Time to pull up a chair and check them out!

Ladies and gentlemen, it is my pleasure to say those two most important and happiest of words: PLAY BALL!!

Welcome to BlogWorld, Joanne!

I'm still working with the publisher in New Rochelle, and without planning to do so, I have picked up a new friend. Not only are we now friendly, I have inspired her to join the blogosphere. So Joanne, welcome! It can be addicting, frustrating, and rewarding.

Read Joanne here

Oh, and the name of her blog was my idea. Once in a while, the blind squirrel finds the nut.

I'm always treading lightly when making work friends, as it can be a tenuous thing, especially as a temp. I'm not expected to be here long-term, at least not initially. I am hoping for the long-term here, since I think the company and I have been good for each other. At times, the office is, shall we say, um...quiet. Library-like. You will not find any radios playing (a staple of mine). Instead, I'm deep into wearing ear buds and listening to my iPod or Mike and the Mad Dog (who's theme song The Son loves to sing). So I've brought a little life to my corner of the office, and the company has blessed me by making me feel talented, wanted and liked. Deep down, isn't that really all that we want - some acceptance?

Still, when my "boss" sat me down at my new desk, I thought I'd just sit here quietly. However, by the end of the first day, Joanne and I were buddies. We talked of "eye candy" in a way that I have never done before, and I'm not sure I can explain what that means. She's a fellow Yankees fan, a reality show freak (OK, so we're different there), and has an offbeat, bordering on blue sense of humor. In short, we are simpatico. So now this office has a two-person force to be reckoned with. God help them. She just has to break me of my habit of sitting in my car at lunch, as I eat and read. A person needs a few minutes of privacy, right?

Writer's Block

Maybe it's that I'm overwhelmed lately, or I just don't really have anything to say, but I haven't written a lot here. I'll try to get back up to speed soon. I'd like to play catch up with some thoughts about a great party last night, and even some "archive" stuff, like travel journals, and so on. Plus with baseball coming up, and March Madness rolling along, I have sports things to discuss as well. So I hope to be back with you soon, maybe even by the end of the day.

I'm working a bit again, for a publisher in New Rochelle. I'm so happy there, and there's talk of them wanting me permanently. There's a financial downside to it but we'll see if we can live with it. I know it's nice to be wanted - that's for sure!

A couple of shout outs before I run. Happy birthday to the most wonderful, beautiful wife and friend that a guy could have. Her name is Sandi, and she's The Wife. We're kind of struggling these days to make all the ends meet, but we make it work somehow. Happy birthday also to her father, Tom. Sixty-five and still full of life. He's the closest thing I have to a father. And, if I haven't mentioned this already, best of luck to Ricky Fritsch as he sets off on his new endeavor, which he started earlier in the week. We've become good friends, and I enjoy his honest and realistic look at life. He could often find the right mix to keep my grounded. I hope he stays involved with WGCH in some capacity, but it's more likely that I will have a new broadcast partner, when (or should I say "if") we get back to broadcasting games. I know who that new/old partner is, but I can't reveal that information yet...

I hope you all continue to read "Exit 55", and enjoy my sometimes offbeat view of my world, and the bigger picture. I don't run a counter here to see who's reading because I don't think I want to know. I'm happy to live with the comments that I receive, and view the lack of comments as "no news means good news." With that said, whoever is reading, I thank you for stopping by.

Erin Go Off The Bench

Top of the morning to ya, or as the good “Cardinal Egan” of Imus in the Morning says, “Good morning and God bless!” So it’s not actually St. Patrick’s Day yet, but it’s close enough. The Wife inspired me to do like her this week so everyday since Sunday I have worn something green. She has done the same thing. In my case, I was able to come with a different green shirt for each day. All in good fun, I guess.

Admittedly St. Patrick’s Day always comes with a touch of mournfulness, but it’s nothing that I dwell on. For it was on St. Patrick’s night in 1989 that we lost my father to a heart attack while watching, of all things, The Quiet Man. I had last seen him on the previous Wednesday morning, when my cat woke me up to let him out. As I walked to the kitchen, my father was standing there, eating his breakfast. Not a word was spoken between us and I returned to bed. That Friday, I was going to stay home, having not seen him to talk to in a few days, but The Wife (then, The Girlfriend, of course) convinced me to take her out. So after I left work in Rye Brook, I drove to the Danbury Fair Mall to do some quick shopping for her birthday, and then picked her up. Back in those days, a night out could be some cheap dinner and a drive somewhere, or maybe a stroll around some shopping enclave. On that night, we had dinner at a Denny’s in Newburgh, then took a drive down Route 9W.

I can’t tell you for sure what time we got back to her house but as we pulled up, her father came out to the driveway and told me that my mother had called and that I was to get home. I would later find out that it was not my mother, but a family friend at the time whom I called “Ma.” My heart skipped a slight beat, but I assumed it was regarding my grandfather, who at almost 93, was beginning to slow down. I prepared myself for a probable trip to Florida for his burial.

When I got home, the first thing that stuck out at me was that the house was empty and all the cars were still in their places. My father’s Nova sat in the driveway, while my mother’s Caprice Classic was in the garage. An ashtray was knocked over, but my father’s cane was still by his chair. This was all strange to me, but I still wasn’t prepared for the worst. Was it possible that my father was so upset that he knocked over the ashtray (it was one of those stand alone types) and somebody took he and my mom out? That would be very odd.

It was time for answers. Who better than the aforementioned “Ma?” Though it was late, they never seemed to sleep over there, and I needed to know what was going on. She answered and I began to question her. Initially she wouldn’t give me anything, only saying, “they’ll be home soon.” At 20, I was impetuous enough that I wanted to know, so I kept pressing. This only lasted a minute or so before she uttered the words that forever changed my life: “Daddy’s gone.” Before I could react, she hurried off the phone.

One thinks that they’re supposed to cry, but that wasn’t what happened. My mouth went dry, and I grabbed a glass of orange juice (which would later make me sick). Then I punched the refrigerator. From there, I put my socks back on, because I had taken them off in the car during the night. Amazing the stupid things you worry about. Then I set about dealing with everything. The family – my mom, brother and sister – would be home in a few minutes.

The next few days would go by in a blur. Personal matter would be dealt with on Saturday, and the first wake would be Sunday night. This was also the first time that I would see my father with my own eyes. We would receive literally hundreds of people, from all walks of our lives. Monday would have two more wakes. As we closed up Monday night, I thought that we would close the casket, and that would be the last time I would see my father. Finally I broke down and for a good 10 minutes, was the sobbing wreck that everybody wanted me to be.

Only one thing stands out to me as truly bothering me. Tuesday, March 21st was the funeral. That happens to be The Wife’s birthday. I know she was just The Girlfriend then, but she had been around my family for over a year by the time of my father’s death, and wasn’t leaving anytime soon (and nearly 20 years and one child later, she’s still here). I don’t think it would have made a difference if I had put up a stink, but it just didn’t seem right. To her credit, she was nothing but decent about it, and continues to be unfazed by it to this day.

I was one of two people who delivered eulogies at the funeral. I remember speaking from the heart, and having several people compliment it. It wasn’t about that though. It was about representing my family, and reminding everybody of what a good man he was and will always be. Mostly, though, I wanted to honor his wish of keeping things lighthearted. While many cried by the time I was finished, many also enjoyed some laughs. Most of all, I honored his wish of having “Free Bird” be a part of his sendoff.

Life, while never being the same, has carried on. I pretty sure I know where he is proud of me, and quite positive where I think I would have let him down. I also think he had a strong notion that The Girlfriend would one day be The Wife. Speaking of The Wife, I can never forget how supportive and amazing she was through that difficult time. All of this was heady stuff for a young woman who turned 19 on the day her boyfriend’s father was buried.

Needless to say, we never forget the great man who remains my father. There’s far more to life though on St. Patrick’s Day. Too many great things have happened as well. We were on our honeymoon one year, and in London another year, and have had or gone to countless fun parties. I know it rankles some Irish folks that St. Patrick’s Day is often treated as an excuse to party to excess, but I think it highlights the fun of the Irish. Tell me what pub is better than an Irish one? So remember – tomorrow, everyone is Irish!

Before we move on, I’ve got this little nugget for ya. Besides The Quiet Man, there are many other movies and pieces of pop culture dedicated to the Irish that are quite, to quote the “Guinness” guys,



So with that in mind, allow me to show you the edited version of The Commitments, Alan Parker’s “BRILLIANT” 1991 movie about “The Saviours of Soul.” Now I know we here at “Exit 55” have long believed in being cautious with our language. Yes, we have uttered the occasional “shite” and “arse” and a few other edited words, but can we possibly add “fook” to the list? Perhaps. Anyway, watch this funny bit courtesy of YouTube, if you can stand the language.



Anyway, have a happy St. Patrick’s Day.

So A-Rod goes on with Mike and the Mad Dog on WFAN and tries to be more forthcoming and honest than ever before. What does he get in return? Hammered by the media! This guy cannot win here. I heard the whole interview and thought he was good, except for his stance of not wanting to talk about Derek Jeter. The media as a whole has a problem with A-Rod, likely a result of the contract, his agent (Scott Boras) and the fact that he often comes off as a phony. I think what this legendary player needs to do is tell the media to go to hell, and play like a man possessed. Put up the numbers, be honest and real, and New York will love you.

So day one ends in the NCAA tournament. How did your brackets fare? Mine were so-so. If you focused on no upsets, you were fine. If, like I did, you took a chance here or there, you got burned. I wanted to take Virginia Commonwealth (where my friend Jon went to school) over the Dookies, but I figured, they’re still Duke. They have Dave McClure, one of the finest players I’ve seen in person, having called a few of his games when he played at Trinity Catholic in Stamford. Yet there they were, losing to VCU. So I lost that one. My upset was the Oral Roberts/Washington State game. I thought maybe ORU could pull of the upset and lost that one also. So I went 12-4 overall. Not great but I’ve had worse days.

Oh, not be forgotten is Torey Thomas, point guard for Holy Cross, and a former teammate of Dave McClure's at Trinity. I loved watching these kids play, and it's a thrill seeing them on the big stage now, just as it is to see John Sullivan playing center at Notre Dame. It's fun to say, "I broadcast their games in high school."

Yesterday’s coverage of the tournament on CBS was only so-so at best. Even the great Dick Enberg seemed like he was not at the top of his game, while Gus Johnson was in hyper SCREAMING mode!! Then there’s Kevin Harlan, who like the Barenaked Ladies and UB40, I just do not get the attraction to him at all. I’ve never heard a good word about Gus Johnson, but what do I know? Then there was James Brown, not the one who is now dead, but the one sportscaster that everybody likes. I like him also, but he was clearly lost as a play-by-play man yesterday. Of course sometime today we will get treated to Billy “I perfected basketball” Packer. Thankfully we'll also get some of Verne Lundquist and Bill Raftery. One could argue that they should be the Eye network's number one hoops team.

Oh, in case you’re wondering, my Final Four is lame. I initially had Florida, along with Kansas, Georgetown and Ohio State. That makes three number one seeds and a number two. Since then, I’ve pulled Florida (the defending champs) and inserted Wisconsin. My championship game is Ohio State and Kansas, and I figure the best player in the tournament will reach the Promised Land. I have no real solid reason to think this, so I’ll take Greg Oden and Ohio State to win the national championship. I know, it’s lame.

Looks like the vagina furor has died down in Cross River. The Vagina Three, as the young women are now known, have had their suspensions dismissed. That is probably the wisest way to make the whole dopey issue go away. Time to move on.

Am I the only one who sees Al Sharpton on TV and is always reminded of the Tawana Brawley mess in 1987? I know people deserve a second chance, but creating racial undertones when none existed killed any credibility that Reverend Sharpton has, in my mind.

Popped over to my friend Mick’s blog to see what his weekly edition was about. He jumps off baseball this week for the most part (gives me some love – much appreciated), and talks a bit about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Thanks, Mick. You’ve inspired me!

First let’s head back to the Baseball Hall of Fame, which earlier this month chose to not induct any veterans. Shameful? Kind of. Dodgers fans will tell you that Gil Hodges should be in the Hall, while I will always pull for Roger Maris. What, there weren’t another 35 Negro League players that the PC Police could induct?

Anyway, the R&R Hall inducted their 2007 class the other night. I watched just a small piece of it, as Patti Smith sang, and just couldn’t stay with it. I know she is a seminal artist, but it was just painful to me. I would have liked to have seen REM, since original drummer Bill Berry was back for the night, and they have not been the same band since he left in 1997 after suffering a brain aneurysm. There is a new version of John Lennon’s “Number 9 Dream”, cut by REM and Berry plays on the track.

Mick’s main contention is that Rush in not in the Hall, and it’s a fair point. He also outlines who is currently on the outside looking in, and who is coming up for consideration. This hall of fame is perhaps the most irrelevant of them all. I made my pilgrimage to it in 1999, and it’s worth visiting, but it’s a very confused group. While everyone is celebrating the worthy induction of Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, it ‘s worth asking that if there’s a Hip-Hop/Rap Hall of Fame one day, will Aerosmith be inducted? Or Blondie? They both worked with Rap artists at one time or another, and gave them large prominence. I’m just wondering.

A quicky before we end for the day. The Wife and I had a chance to dine at Bennett’s Steak and Fish in Stamford, owned by NBA referee Bennett Salvatore. Thanks to a one-hundred dollar gift card that we won at the WGCH holiday party, we dined on Filet Mignon, enjoyed the wine selection, and finished with Tiramisu. I highly recommend it.

Cowherd goes to The Big Town

So much for my nice little Monday blog post that I was planning. As I checked my email this morning, I found a little something from an old colleague of mine. A huge fan of Arkansas sports, the Boston Red Sox, and the Chicago Bears, he knows his stuff, and is extremely smart about it. Like me, he really doesn’t buy into talking smack. We enjoy the results on the field, and if you try to talk smack, you get smacked back. Hard.

Not to say he’s innocent. I returned from a vacation one time to find a framed picture of my family in full Red Sox regalia. Amazing what Photoshop can do, right? Oh, and I laughed out loud at it.

When he comes across things that make him laugh, or boggle his mind, or whatever, he sends it out to the masses – meaning me and a few other former cohorts. Among us, we have a Mets fan, three Yankees fan, and the one Sox fan. Now what you’re going to see comes courtesy of Colin Cowherd via YouTube. Before we get there, let me explain that, if you don’t know, Colin Cowherd is a radio broadcaster. I also, frankly, think he’s a jackass. His one smug little comment of how “The Pittsburgh Steelers can’t afford any free agents because they’re too busy paying off referees in the Super Bowl” just makes him sound like a punk. Think Christopher “Mad Dog” Russo is an ass? Listen to “The Herd” sometime.

That said, Mr. Cowherd is spot on with this rant. Now before the Mets fan gets the old David Wright boxers in a bundle, let me say that you have to focus on listening comprehension. Mr. Cowherd is saying that the Mets are better than the image they portray. I have railed about this for years. As hard as I laughed at this, I also sat and nodded my head at it. The Mets are not, say, the Kansas City Chiefs, who are a college team in a major league uniform, and that’s fine. They are the New York Mets, playing Major League Baseball in New York City. This kind of cheese whiz doesn’t really fly here, or in Boston, or it Philly, or even in Chicago.

Anyway, listen and watch the effort of this person from YouTube and we’ll talk on the other side.

If you can pull yourself away from being a fan for a moment, you can see the humor in some of this. It’s also fairly obnoxious at times. Anyway, he’s wrong about one thing. The version of “Meet The Mets” is not the one that he heard. The one that is played now on WFAN is one that they’ve used for a bout 15-20 years, featuring a women’s voice. The old version is kind of snappy. This newer version can make you attempt to put your fist through your radio, like you’ve popped on the wireless (that’s an old term for radio, kids) hoping to hear something different and cool and instead being treated to “Walk This Way” for the seven MILLIONTH time.

That’s taking me off on a tangent, and I will resist.

Anyway, I’ve gone down this road with the Mets before, and I don’t want to get hit with the “bias” routine, so I’m done. My actual hatred for them has subsided a great deal. I fully expect them to win the NL East, and perhaps the World Series as well. They’re due, and they’ve done a nice job. They have a good manager in Willie Randolph, and a wonderful team. Someone actually tried to tell me that David Wright will be a full-on failure, like an A-Rod, but that’s just a clueless fan for ya. Wright, Jose Reyes, Carlos Beltran, Carlos Delgado, and so on - these guys are just too good. The starting pitching is a huge question, but don’t be fooled. If GM Omar Minaya can hold out for a good starter, or one of the young pitchers blossoms, the Mets are going to be better than fine. If Minaya can find a starter of Latin persuasion, even better.

By the way, that last line is a joke, because a look at the Mets roster indicates a large amount of Latino players. News Flash – the best players in baseball generally ARE Latino.

Like I said, I don’t really have an axe to grind with the Amazin’s. At least not until some fan makes me crazy again. Then we’ll see how my mood is.

Off The Bench

I’d love to tell you that I took a minute out from packing for a weekend vacation in Maine to write.

I’d love to. But I can’t. We’re not going to Maine.

Simple economics and common sense won out in the end. In good conscience, The Wife felt that while the trip would be good for us emotionally, financially it wouldn’t work. So we’ll go with Plan B. Perhaps a day trip, then dinner on Saturday night. Sunday is our 12th wedding anniversary, so that’s why we were going to go in the first place. We’ve been there before, and it’s not going anywhere, so we’ll get back. That’s showbiz. The reality is that while one can say “let’s just go for it because we can’t take it with us when we’re gone”, we are still here. Gotta be smart.

So it’s Plan B.

As I mentioned, we’ve been to Maine a bunch of times. We’ve even daytripped it there. Yep, that’s right. Out of the house by 6:00, in Freeport by, say, 11:00, back on the road by 4:00, back home by 11:00. Long day, but fun. We’ve also stayed there several times. Lately, our luck has been to struggle with the weather. We outran a storm one time, had snow start as I turned off the car engine in Freeport another time, and was done by the time we left. Then came the time it snowed…and snowed…and snowed. The innkeeper at the Harraseeket Inn (an incredible place) refused to let us leave. We stayed for an extra night at a reduced rate.

One of the coolest things about Freeport, Maine – besides the great food and small town feel (despite the tourists) – is LL Bean. That is the reason to go to Freeport. Plus they never close. I think they threw the keys away in 1951, or something like that. I tested that theory one year. I woke up around 3:00 in the morning one night, and tossed and turned for a bit before deciding to get up. The Wife got up briefly and I asked her if she wanted to take a walk. Of course, her response was a firm “no.” So I got up, got dressed, bundled up, and headed out into the snow – at 4:00 AM!

The Harraseeket Inn is located right on US Route 1, up the road from LL Bean. It might be two blocks – not much more. Anyway, at 4:00, the only thing on route one was me. I walked down the middle of the road, and could hear the snow plows off in the distance. In fact, you can see the snow falling in the pictures I took. I reached Bean’s front door a few minutes later and, as promised, they were open. Just a few hearty soles stocking shelves, and ready to serve customers if necessary. One of them offered me a cup of coffee, looked out at the snow with me, and returned to her business. It was great.

I didn’t buy anything – I just enjoyed the quiet, and began to make my way back to the Inn. I was snuggled back into bed by about 5:15.



Route 1, Freeport, ME - approximately 4:10 AM


All stories for another time, I guess. Someday, maybe I’ll put some of my travel journal writing on here.

I know, some of the things that I do for fun are a little off the beaten path. I can live with that.

Onto other goodies.

Did you hear the story about the goings on in Cross River, New York? That’s where John Jay High School is, and where the latest touch of suburbia gone insane has occurred. Seems John Jay High School was hosting an open mic night and three young ladies wanted to perform a portion of Eve Enslers’ “The Vagina Monologues.” Supposedly the school told he girls that they could not use the “V” word in their reading. Then the girls went ahead and used it. The school responding by suspending them. Now the who-said-what-game is being played. Let me bottom line it here. The school district looks foolish and puritanical, plus they’ve given a whole new life to the word “vagina.” Let’s be real here. Vagina is not a naughty word. It’s a body part. There are other words for that particular part that are quite bad. I don’t need to spell it out for you, but one in particular has frankly replaced the “F” word on the holy-of holies list.

Way to get some much-needed attention there, John Jay.

Today’s Journal News featured a piece by Rick Carpiniello about a very human sports official. I think we all forget sometimes that those who overseeing athletic events, especially at the high school and youth level, make mistakes. We’ve seen too many arrogant umpires, referees, etc. Joe West, in baseball, thinks we pay money to see him run his mouth. And there are plenty of truly bad officials at every level. But what I read today proved to me that these people have a conscience.

The official in question ruled that the shot clock should be reset towards the end of the sectional basketball game between Lakeland and Peekskill. The reality was that the Peekskill shot never touched the rim, thus meaning the shot clock should have expired and the possession should have gone to Lakeland. Instead, Peekskill grabbed the rebound and put the ball in for the win. The official was able to see some video later on, and the conclusion was that he blew the call. After losing sleep, he called Lakeland’s Athletic Director and coach and apologized to both of them. But he went one step further and declined the opportunity to officiate any games in the state tournament.

These people are human, and they make mistakes. This man stood up and admitted it. I applaud him for it.

I listened to Montgomery Delaney’s CD’s and they are just tremendous. I don’t like putting labels on things, so I wouldn’t automatically classify it as folk. Sometimes words like that scare people away – unfairly, I think. So if you like James Taylor, for instance, or someone a little less known but very popular – like Martin Sexton – then you will most definitely like Monty’s work. Plus from our couple of correspondences, I can tell he’s a great guy. So tell me – what’s not to like?

I tread on tough ground here, but I am so disappointed and embarrassed that we didn’t do any basketball or hockey games on WGCH this year. There are reasons for it, but as a person who prides himself on our commitment to local sports, I am horrified. I thought I was going to do the Greenwich-Hamden basketball playoff game last Monday night on SportingNewsCT, but let’s call it a miscommunication that led me to not do it.

Again, life goes on.

As a country, we should be mortified. We’ll go rescue those who suffer in a typhoon, or Angelina will adopt more children, or Oprah can go open some school – all on foreign soil. But when our soldiers are recovering at Walter Reed Medical Center in Washington with rats and mold and filth, that’s OK, right? Yeah, let’s go save the rest of the world, but not take care of those who are trying to take care of us.

This should not be happening, and people in the military should be losing their jobs. It’s disgusting.

While I’m railing at things that we can blame on the Bush Administration, that sure was some compelling stuff with Scooter Libby, eh? Our Vice President just seems like a great guy. Not too paranoid, is he? The rifle thing in Texas takes on a whole new life, doesn’t it?

Thanks to those of you who touched base to offer condolences following my latest career turn. I appreciate your thoughtfulness. My spirit is fine, and I’ve put a few feelers out there. I’ll keep you posted.

You Should Have Seen The Other Guy...

Last time out, I mentioned that The Son took a nasty fall UP the stairs. Now you can see the proof. As a parent, and a father, I honestly worried that somebody would try to accuse me of abusing my child. I can honestly say, with my hand on The Baseball Encyclopedia, that neither The Wife or I had anything to do with this. He was being a five year-old boy. This is what they do. Anyway, he's fine - he can see out of the eye, and there are no other problems.


Taken Friday morning.


This morning. Looks better...

On another front, I received two CD's from Montgomery Delaney in the mail yesterday. I'll be listening to them today. I already know I'm a fan of his song "Son of a Son", but any person who writes "Cartoon Song" and incorporates the great Bugs Bunny, along with the Road Runner into his lyrics is more than OK with me.

Belated birthday wishes to an-unnamed friend, though I will say that she is the wife of one-time Majic 105 legend John Harrison. Also special wishes to my friend Matt Hamilton. Now if Matt would only get his blog going again.

That's all for me for now.

(Insert Curse Word Here)

At 2:45 yesterday afternoon, my boss asked if he could see me. We haven't been doing well financially, so I thought it might be time to brainstorm. Then he closed the door. Still, tried not to panic. Then the conversation began, "This is not a very pleasant chat..."

A few minutes later, after just a mere five weeks, I had been laid off...again.

Ugh.

From there, I knew the drill. Pack quickly and quietly, say goodbye to my mates, and leave in a way that is so classy that makes me hold my head high. As I drove, I stuck to the plan: don't rage, don't be angry, no tears, not even time for fear. Just focus. My only issue was to tell The Wife. After all this time, she could have said "see ya." Since we were meeting at The Son's doctor (his 5th birthday physical), I wanted to tell her in person.

While frustrated, she was extremely supportive. Exactly what I needed. Now life goes on. After a stretch in which one of our cars was totaled and had to buy a new one, I lose my job, The Son falls going UP the stairs and gives himself a nasty black eye, and we have water in our garage following the rain, one can't help but feel like we're doomed.

But I don't.

At this point, our Maine vacation is in jeopardy. Deep in my heart, while it isn't smart fiscally, it is much needed mentally. I guess stay tuned on that subject.

Somehow, by the grace of whomever, we're going to move onto bigger and better things. S*it happens, they say. Now we (I) have to focus, stay positive, and we'll see what happens.

As I said to some friends this morning in an email, I'll accept prayers, good thoughts, humor, favors, and most of all, job leads. With the support of family and friends, I'll bounce back quickly.

What, you say, is my future in radio? Good question. Stay tuned!

And The Oscar Goes To…

No Oscar for me (Hammerstein? Robertson? Gamble?) Nope. So let’s blog the Oscar show!

OK, the “have the nominees stand up” thing was cute but dumb.

Wait – was that Jack (please don’t ask “Jack Who?”)? Is he BALD? He can’t handle the truth!

Ellen DeGeneres is fine. I’ve come around on her. She’s kind of funny, but white shoes? OK we get it. You’re gay. Cool. God bless. My father wore white shoes. In 1971. I look back and cringe.

Ellen, the jokes are dying, babe. To keep things under four hours, please get to the first award. Please.

Yeah, it is Jack. Man he makes bald cool.

First Peter O’Toole joke of the night about how many times he has lost. I think The Wife is rooting for him, largely because he was very debonair alongside Audrey Hepburn in “How To Steal a Million” in 1966. I’ll go out on a limb. He stands no chance alongside Forrest Whitaker.

First Al Gore reference. Stop, now.

Jesus, God, there’s a choir (nice reference, eh?) singing for the nominees. The show is 12 minutes old and it’s getting painful. You all thought the Uma and Oprah was bad?

Finally – our first award for…Art Direction? Hey, the Bond guy is rather suave (nothing like a plain black tux), but Nicole Kidman looks unhealthy. Could be the Keith Urban effect?

While they talk, let me just say that I watched roughly half of “Gone With the Wind” and all of “Casablanca.” None of the movies nominated tonight will make me forget those.

Something called “Pan’s Labyrinth” won for Art Direction. Stop the presses!

I promise I will not blog every award. I have too much of a life to do that.

What the hell is the thing of people on the screen? It looks like Mummenschantz (for those who remember). Credit The Wife for the reference. Oh I get it. It's Oscar.

Hey, it’s the Geico announcer guy! You know, “in a world where both of our cars are totally underwater.” That’s been the coolest thing yet.

Well, other than Jack.

I love Will Farrell, but this is just…sad. Still, the ghost of Oscar Gamble’s afro lives!

Two Oscar Gamble references – I’m on a roll. Throw in the Mummemschantz line and it's 1975 all over again!

Quite a night when both Kelly Leak from The ORIGINAL Bad News Bears and Marky Mark (without the Fun Bunch) are nominated for Oscars.

OK, I said I would not blog every award, but if I have to watch people wave flags for their awards all night, we will have some serious trouble.

First name check of America’s Actor (Mr. Tom Hanks). Good to hear.

This show is wickedly boring already. I switched over to writing another blog entry (on the Yankees retired numbers).

I’m back, if only to say that this sound effect thing is not QUITE as dumb as the pre-show thing at 8:00. Man, we’re delving into worst broadcast every territory so far.

Steve Carrell, with the best line yet, regarding sound editing and sex. Wait – did Greg Kinnear really just cause a seven second delay problem, or was it planned?

I’ve been watching the Oscars for a long time now, and I don’t think we’ve waited this long for a major award to be given out.

By “major award”, I don’t mean a leg lamp, just in case The Sister-In-Law is reading. Shame on you if you don’t get that reference.

Rachel Wiesz won Best Supporting Actress last year? Wow, who knew?

Alan Arkin wins for Best Supporting Actor. He’s reading his speech, but that’s fine. I like how the director put a shot up of his Oscar, sitting on the floor. A very good actor. Especially funny in a small role in “So I Married An Axe Murderer.” Still, wouldn’t it have been cool if Eddie Murphy won? Or Kelly Leak? Or Marky Mark?

Why is Ellen walking through the crowd? Thankfully she picked a gracious Marky Mark to talk with. The screenplay thing with Scorsese was fairly humorous.

The interpretive dance troop is back. Oy vey.

One hour in, and I’m skeptical that I will make it to the end. So now I’m onto recording it. We haven’t even had our first musical number.

Uh oh. Sound problems with Sweet Baby James Taylor. All seems well now. JT is one of my musical faves, but the better song from “Cars” was Sheryl Crow’s “Real Gone.”

A Jerry Seinfeld sighting. I thought his only thing was trying to save Michael Richards.

Oh God, Mr. Internet Creator and Leo are talking about Green Oscars, or something. Can we stop with the Al Gore lovefest?

Gee, the strike up the band thing during Gore’s “speech” wasn’t too predictable, was it?

I know Saturday is a bad night for TV, but don’t you think that people would have parties and watch the show? They could all stay up late, get drunk, etc. Good times! Sunday is tough.

Best Animated Feature is up now, and I DEMAND A RECOUNT. HOW THE HELL DID “CARS” NOT WIN? Larry The Cable Guy should have won an award alone for being the voice of Mater. The Son will not be happy when I tell him.

Ben Affleck is on stage and my one question is…why? This is how far we have fallen. At one time Yankees fan Billy Crystal hosted awards, and now we’re stuck with Mr. Red Sox.

By the way, I still haven’t forgiven Crystal for the Mets hat in “City Slickers.”

Audrey Hepburn was just on the screen. That would have made The Wife happy, but she’s already in bed. Only two people can truly channel Ms. Hepburn: Natalie Portman and The Wife.

I love old movie montages. I’m hooked, at least for now. Especially when Jack vamps for the camera.

Mr. Hanks is on, with brilliant Ms. Helen Mirren. Just a reminder, only two people have ever won back to back Best Actor awards: Tom Hanks and Spencer Tracy. And America’s Actor should have at least one more, if not two. He should have won for “Saving Private Ryan”, if not for “Cast Away.”

Oh for the love of God, it’s Tom freakin’ Cruise. Damn, he looks almost normal. He’s giving the Hersholt Award away. This also brings our first true standing ovation of the night. It took a while, surprisingly.

Ellen and Clint Eastwood gave us a funny moment. Thank god.

Hey, it’s Apple’s mom, Gwynnie Paltrow. She was part of one of the worst Best Picture farces ever, “Shakespeare in Love.” Nice movie, kind of funny, but a Best Picture? Um…no.

We’re not quite two hours in now, and I’m barely paying attention. The Meryl Steep glare at her two “Devil Wears Prada” co-stars bit was quite humorous.

Again, not quite two hours and we’ve only seen Best Supporting Actor. At least give us songs or something.

Oooh, another movie montage. Oh, it’s foreign films. Never mind.

Ellen’s in white now. Sheesh. Now she’s doing the interpretive dance thing. Somewhere David Letterman is really enjoying this.

OK, I have to ay attention. George Clooney’s on to give the Best Supporting Actress. My guess is the Dreamgirls/American Idol girl. Nothing wrong with Cate Blanchette, though. Jennifer Hudson does indeed win. No shock. Let the tears begin. Beyonce, sans Jigga, looks calm. It’s got to be an act. Now, before the band kicks in, get off the stage. Oooh, too late. Glad she got in the Jennifer Holiday reference. Beyonce looked perturbed.

By the way, who are some of these presenters? Should I know them?

Hey, it’s Seinfeld again. Could he please bring us some yucks? Well he’s trying, but what’s the deal with that? Some producer must have told him that the show is sucking, and needs life, so go so some standup. He’s on a roll. Good stuff, overall. If he just auditioned for the hosting gig next year, he just got it.

This will forever be known as The Al Gore Oscars. “An Inconvenient Truth” wins Documentary Feature. Unreal.

Clint Eastwood is giving a special Oscar to Ennio Morricone and is ad-libbing. Then he says, “I should have worn my glasses.” Who cares? You’re Clint. The end. The theme to “The Good, The Bad and The Ugly”, and the music from “The Untouchables” makes this guy a legend. Not Clint, he’s already a legend. Mr. Morricone.

Wait, what the…couldn’t Mr. Morricone just receive his award? Why is he sitting in the audience in the first place? And why is Celine Dion now singing?

Morricone’s on stage now, and Eastwood needs to translate for him. The pain level increases…

Sorry, it’s been roughly a half hour. I’ve just got nothing to add.

Did I just hear this: “Please welcome a reason for high definition television, Jennifer Lopez?” OK…

I’m back to say Melissa Etheridge is an Oscar winner. I’m also pleased because we had a girl-girl kiss. And while that might make you think I’m having a man moment, it’s more about spicing this freaking show up. Then she thanked her wife, and…wait…Al Gore!

I’ve gotten so bored that I’ve started putting switching channels.

It’s 11:44, and we’re nowhere near done. Ouch. Jodie Foster is on for the ghoul section – the In Memorium. Her best friend recently died. She brings a certain amount of class. So who will get the largest applause?

A second leg lamp reference!

Applause is scattered early on.

Robert Altman wins, barely, if only because the room is so dead that the crowd has their own ghoulish thoughts.

I’m at the point where I’ve actually given thought to going outside to shovel snow. Bear in mind that it’s 11:50 PM.

Finally, Best Actress. Helen Mirren, come on down. Philip Seymour Hoffman hasn’t even said it yet. I’m just trying to move things along.

Yep, it’s Queen Mirren. Kate Winslet is crying. I don’t think that’s because she lost. I think she gets it. Mirren pays tribute to Queen Elizabeth. Nice touch, but this is still a lame night. It has to be when people keep telling you about all of the surprises.

Midnight. Good morning, East Coast.

By the way, I’m a fairly honest sort. This blog has sucked almost as much as the show.

Best Actor time. Again, Forrest Whitaker, come on down! Reese Witherspoon looks over made up. See what a marriage separation can do?

Good for Forest Whitaker. His wife is crying, while he’s reading his speech. For the first time tonight, I’m begging the orchestra to not play. He’s got my attention. This guy is cool. This guy was Robin Williams sidekick in “Good Morning, Vietnam.”

The Three Amigos are up (Coppola, Lucas, and Spielberg). Is it Marty’s turn?

Here we go…tympani please…Scorsese. It’s about friggin’ time. A standing ovation. He should have won a long time ago – for “Raging Bull.” The place is going nuts, but Marty wants to get it over with. Let’s face it –it’s a lifetime achievement award.

Jack and Diane Keaton are on. Warm up my pillow – it’s Best Picture time. Jack just stands there and nods. I have no clue who is going to win.

And the Oscar goes to… “The Departed.” A tame standing ovation, leading to a full standing-O. Diane Keaton screamed when Jack announced it. I really had no idea. Each of the movies is very appealing, but I think “The Departed” and “Little Miss Sunshine” are right up my alley. “The Queen” also looked good.

Ellen keeps it brief and calls it a night. Bedtime for Bonzo.

OK, I’ll say it. These were, I think by far, the worst Oscars I’ve ever watched. Sorry to be a downer, but I think it’s true, and the things I’m reading on the Internet seem to agree.

Nearly four hours, and we’re done.

Good night, everyone!