This is Paul Harvey.

 

Standby for news!

 

Today, it saddens me that one of the greatest journalists of all time passed away. I was not alive when Edward R. Murrrow was alive to tell me about McCarthyism. I was not alive when Walter Cronkite announced the death of our President, John Fitzgerald Kennedy, our 35th President of the United States.

 

I was not alive when Martin Luther King, Jr. was brutally murdered in Memphis, Tennessee. I was just a child when our 37th President, Robert Milhouse Nixon was impeached, due to what is now known as Watergate.

 

You know, when the Iran hostage situation occurred, it was the first time I got active in politics. I was only eight when our 40th President, Ronald WIlson Reagan was elected. This past election cycle, a black man was elected President. Who would think that an actor and a black man be elected President in my lifetime? President Obama faces many of the challenges that Ronald Reagan did in his first term.

 

Now for the rest of the story.

 

It was always a treat to listen to Paul Harvey, because he always brought some incredible insight on what was going on in the world, good or bad. He had a sense of being clinical and honest with the news of the day, but he never, ever, in the years that I listened to him was biased, or raised his voice on any news story. He just told us like it was.

 

And now that is the rest of the story.

 

This is Paul Harvey.

 

Good day!

 

With all of the greed and thug-like mentality that has plagued sports within the last five years or so, this story is something that should be told. I think it's a requirement for every player in all sports, from pee-wee *insert sport* to professional level. You're worshipped, no matter if you don't want the attention or not.

 

It's a great life lesson, and it's something that can be used in pretty much any profession, or just in everyday life.

 

We all look up to someone.

Someone looks up to us at some point.

When someone we look up to is gone,

Somone else has to fill the void,

And make us believe in ourselves again.

 

John Elway did that for Jake.

I know how hard it is to cry,

When what you love is taken from you,

But when you find inner purpose,

You become whole again.

 

That's what I learned from this story, and it should be required reading for all of us.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I sit with you hunkered down, eating a cheeseburger

To tell you what happened to me over there

I've decided to change the world

It's my choice

 

 

 

---Inspired by the comic and film Iron Man

I'm only going to watch the Oscars to a certain point tonight.

 

First off, anyone who has read my blog, there's really only one award I care about.

 

Secondly,  Best Actor has several I am rooting for. Sean Penn is the rumored favorite, but I'm hoping for Mickey Rourke.

 

My last comment is my surprise at only three songs for Best Original Song.  "The Wrestler" from Bruce Springsteen isn't there. I might add that his new album Working on A Dream is fantastic.

 

Congrats to all the winners tonight.

I'm only going to watch the Oscars to a certain point tonight.

 

First off, anyone who has read my blog, there's really only one award I care about.

 

Secondly,  Best Actor has several I am rooting for. Sean Penn is the rumored favorite, but I'm hoping for Mickey Rourke.

 

My last comment is my surprise at only three songs for Best Original Song.  "The Wrestler" from Bruce Springsteen isn't there. I might add that his new album Working on A Dream is fantastic.

 

Congrats to all the winners tonight.

 

Janis here.

 

This is both a sad day, and a joyous day.

 

Sad, because of the loss of such a famous kitty.

 

Joyous, in the fact that Socks will be remembered for the independant spirit that is is in all of us felines, and for the independance of all of the slaves that we kitties enslave.

 

May Socks be chasing birds, play with endless kitty toys, and roaming endless places that only kitties enjoy.

Today was one of those days where nothing much reallly happened.

 

I expected to have a Monday, due to some potential beta testing I had planned for work. It didn't happen. Unless you count some construction on my path on the manufacturing floor, that was as about as close as Monday got.

 

I didn't give out a Monday, which means I was really nice, I guess, as I didn't have a Monday to give out to someone deserving of one. Because no one on this Monday needed to have a Monday dealt to them.

 

Just a Monday thought, I guess

 

Nuff said.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Over the weekend, the steroids have crept up yet again for Major League Baseball.

 

The one who thought could save them from Barry Bonds, Alex Rodrquez was named for using steroids, and personally, I think he's the first of the ones who cares about his legacy and his sport came clean. Miguel Tejeda, on the other hand was arrested for lying to a federal agent on his use of steroids today.

 

The reason why this is important to me, is the fact that baseball has such a storied history. I haven't cared much in years, which saddens me.

 

I remember having a conversation with Obi Wan where he told me, despite my disdain for Barry Bonds, and the Mitchell Report's mention of names, I'll never fall out of love with it.

 

He's right. I love it enought to write about it. I just wish that the union and the owners realize that they should all come clean.

 

Admit that there is a problem, and if the offenders are truly men, come out, admit it, and face the consequences.

 

If I were Bud Selig, I would resign, because you never cared for the fans, and you and Doug Fehr both should testify on what YOU KNEW.

 

For me to truly want to actucally flip on a baseball game (even the World Series), I want a "Dead Poet's Society" moment.

 

I'd like to see players just to follow A-Rod, and step up on a desk and say,

 

"Oh Captain! My Captain!"

 

Not to save my love for baseball.

 

But to save themselves.

 

Then I can believe again.

 

 

It seems to be a small world, but last night confirmed something for me while I was at Cubby's.

 

Middle of the week, I dropped of to what now seems to be my new watering hole. I had some food, and I kept on hearing some guy talk. As the night went on, I heard mentions of Mitchell, and before I knew it, the same voice said he was related to some guy at a table, last name Thomas.

 

I had seen the guy before, but didn't make much of it until one of the bartenders say, "Goodbye, Scott", as he left the bar.

 

Something in my head clicked, and I asked Mike (the bartender that night) if the guy who just left was named Scott Thomas. He said yes. I asked a couple more questions, and I started to realize that I knew the guy.

 

Simply put: I graduated with him.

 

Last night, to really prove my theory, he happened to be near where I was sitting at the bar, and I asked him his name. He told me. Then I proceeded to ask him certain questions, and he proceeded to ask me certain things, once he realized that we both knew certain people from our class. His answers to my questions were mostly, "Yes."

 

Scott is autistic.

 

One of the last things he said to me before he left was, "You were always nice to me at school."

 

Sometimes, Yes is a good word to hear.

 

Nice article about Kurt Warner and Ben Roethlisberger. It's kind of heavy on Warner, but how Ben changed since his last Super Bowl win is a pretty nice read.