Just had to share this one with you.

And this one...

Some random thoughts for a rainy Monday

The makers of Matchbox cars had better earnings last year than any of the "Big Three."

Word will leak of a potential far-left nominee for the U.S. Supreme Court. Obama will then "save the day" by nominating an easier-to-swallow lib.

Large, dangerous, gas-powered tools are God's reward for being a man. Beer, too.

I've grown way beyond weary of Brett Favre's antics. An otherwise splendid career is now tarnished, in my eyes.

From today's George Will column... "New York, which until eight months ago was the financial capital of the world, is no longer even the financial capital of the United States. Washington is."

Curtis Granderson is the best baseball player you've never heard of.

It's hard to say that using marijuana will ruin your life when the last three American presidents are admitted marijuana users.

The new Metallica CD is making me feel like I'm 22 again. My mortgage payment reminds me that it's just a dream.

Is it football season yet?

Beauty Queen Blues

I know, I know. I promised this blog would be more sports and less politics. I lied. Sue me!

The thing is, there's not much worth commenting on in sports these days. Lane Kiffen has been relatively quiet the past couple of weeks, the Tigers have begun their annual "May swoon." At least the Washington Capitals are giving me something to cheer about.

I've been struck the past couple of weeks by the vitriol of the left in response to a polite answer to a loaded question that was leveled at a purty young woman from California. In case you need a recap, Carrie Prejean (Miss California) was asked during the Miss USA pageant whether she supported same-sex marriage. She could not have been nicer as she said, "no." Marriage, she said, was between a man and a woman.

The question was offered up by something named Perez Hilton (see picture on right, if you dare!). I had not heard of this "person" before. I had to look them up. I'm sorry I did. Folks, when your title includes "Gay and Transgendered Celebrity Blogger," you might want to take inventory of how you got to where you are. Famous for being famous? Somewhere Kato Kailen nods his approval.

I like to think I'm a keen observer of things, but I admit I was surprised at the backlash. It's more than just the usual suspects that are calling Prejean the spawn of Hitler. Several members of Congress have weighed in on her. Members of N.O.W. say Prejean should get, "a brain transplant instead of a boob transplant."

Those of you who know me know I'm not exactly a prude. Someone's sexual orientation matters very little to me. I like to make fun of gay people for the same reason I like to make fun of feminists, msyoginists, Christians, Muslims, Mormons, heathens, family members, the Trilateral Commission, Congress, the Freemasons, little kittens, and french fries----IT'S FUN, DAMMIT!

That having been said, the character assassination the left has foisted upon this young woman is remarkable. I could almost understand it if she were an outspoken opponent of gay marriage. But JEEZ! She was ambushed with a loaded question and gave a polite answer! Isn't it refreshing to see someone answer a question truthfully, rather than parsing their response to maximize opportunity?

I'll say this for Prejean---she knows an opportunity when she sees one. The answer may have cost her the Miss USA crown, and the glowing riches that go along with it. But tell me---how many of you can name the winner? That's what I thought. She has already parlayed her celebrity into endorsements. Even Liberty University has offered her a free ride for her Senior year. I wish I could get my kids to say something that would get them a free ride!!

That national "feminist" leaders have not really rushed to Prejean's defense tells you all you need to know about that archaic movement. There are very few entities in social life where extremists rule the roost. Feminism and mainstream environmentalism are two such movements. Thankfully, Christianity is beginning to move away from that, but they have a ways to go.

If this "confrontation" is illustratative of the current cultural wars going on, I'll say this. If my daughter grows up to be like Carrie Prejean, I'll be pleased as punch. If my son grows up to be like perez Hilton, I'll shoot the (censored)!!! Just kiddin', Charlie! But watch your back, boy!!!

Everybody panic!!!

"Is it a pandemic yet?" "Is it a pandemic yet?" "Is it a pandemic yet?" "Is it a pandemic yet?"

I imagine scientists with the World Health Organization are positively tingling these days. They have their "black plague." Or at least they hope they do.

Please forgive me if I'm not ready to stock up on antibiotics, hand sanitizer, Kleenex, chicken soup, ginger ale and Vitamin C. I don't feel particularly compelled to buy in to Swine Flu panic just yet.

I course, if I die from this damn thing in a few weeks, you can file this blog post under "tragic irony."

Scientists who portended the end of the world with the Avian Flu three years ago are crossing their collective fingers, hoping they can say, "I told you so!" this time around. Never mind that Swine Flu has claimed fewer lives worldwide in the past week than has accidents involving donkeys. (true statistic!) The Powers That Be won't let a chance for a good crisis to go unexploited.

Swine Flu may be a legitimate concern, but it's more likely that it's the 2009 version of the "Shark Attack" scare---a scare that was wiped off of the headlines following 9-11-01.

Folks, I'm in the news business. I know that nothing draws listeners (or viewers or readers) more than a damn good headline story. You can't get much deeper in terms of public interest than "National Health Scare!" But lets face facts. How many times have the scientific community cried "wolf?"

And by the way---didn't Gerald Ford cure swine flu when he rolled up his sleeves back in 1975?

Doomsday scientists are swarming around the Swine Flu scare for the same reason that the Weather Channel executives root for maximum damage from tornadoes and hurricanes. It makes them relevant. No one gives a damn about Jim Cantore when it's sunny and 85 degrees. No one calls the Centers for Disease Control when they're feeling fine.

So join me, won't you, in rejecting the hype. That is, of course, until you die in a donkey-related tragedy!

4/16 Plus two

It was a little after 9AM in the newsroom when the AP Alert went off. Nothing unusual there. The damn thing goes off every time there's a thunderstorm in Eastern North Carolina. I dutifully moved to my computer screen and looked. There was a slug.

AP-APNewsAlert- (Blacksburg)

I clicked on the header. It read:

(Blacksburg) -- Shooting at Virginia Tech dormitory...developing...

Given the location and my close emotional ties to the school, I perked up. I was not particularly worried, though. Hey, it's a big campus. These things unfortunately happen. I figured a couple of guys had gotten into it and someone fired a shot or two. The next update came minutes later.

(Blacksburg) -- Shooting at Virginia Tech dormitory...West Ambler Johnston...two fatalities confirmed...developing...

Well this upped the ante. My News Director's brain kicked in. "O-K. Maybe I'll run a state story during my midday news. About thirty minutes later, the ante was upped again.

(Blacksburg) -- Multiple shots fired inside Norris Hall Virginia Tech ...developing...

"What the hell is this, I wondered." Did AP screw up the earlier story? Did they have the location wrong? The stories I was working on concerning two large trees falling in the downtown area during heavy winds got pushed to the back burner. It was forgotten completely after the next AP Alert.

(Blacksburg) -- Multiple fatalities confirmed inside Norris Hall, Virginia Tech campus locked down...shooter unknown...developing...

What followed seemed like a blur. I continued tracking AP and giving live updates on both stations. By noon, we knew this was catastrophic.

It didn't hit me until early afternoon what had happened. Until then, I had kept my professional veneer and reported the facts as they came in---gruesome as they were. It wasn't until I got a little down time and happened to glance at FOX News that it hit me. Seeing those familiar-looking buildings, juxtaposed against the backdrop of the kind of coverage reserved only for events like 9-11 hit me like a ton of bricks. This was MY school! I lived a couple hundred yards from Norris Hall! I had several classes there! Was I ever in the upper floor? I couldn't remember.

After having done news for 20 years you learn to keep stories at arms length. Many of the stories we tackle have strong emotions attached to them, and you would quickly become overwhelmed if you got too involved. I thought I was tough. I thought I could handle anything in a news context. I was wrong.

After about 15-to-20 minutes of watching national TV coverage, I had to go out into the hallway and do something I hadn't done in years. I cried. (only briefly, though---gotta maintain my man-cred).

The days that followed produced a full range of emotions. There was the obvious sadness. There was white-hot anger at the shooter, which quickly evolved into utter indifference. I have yet to get to "forgiveness," but I'm working on it. It also produced immense pride at MY university! What a response from staff and students alike! I'd like to think only Tech could have handled such a situation so well. I pray that we never have to find out.

Other emotions have intermingled in the intervening two years. Disappointment at the family members of some of the victims and survivors who seem hell-bent on blaming everything on the school, and not the gunman. I've also been enraged at those who have used the massacre as a front for their anti-gun agenda. My anger includes NBC for airing the footage sent to them by the shooter. Also, the mindless bimbo posing as a reporter at one of the press conferences who chastised President Steger and Chief Flinchum for not "showing more emotion."

But mostly, I'm bursting with pride today at MY school! It's said that it takes our worst to bring out our best. We certainly saw the worst humanity has to offer on 4-16-07, but we also saw us at our best. God Bless all Virginia Tech Hokies everywhere today! Those with and without diplomas. Ut Prosim!!!

Bye-bye, Birdie.

You'll have to forgive this completely self-serving post. Hey, that's what blogs are for, right? A slice of my childhood died yesterday.

Mark "The Bird" Fidrych was found dead yesterday at his farm in Massachusetts. He was apparently working underneath a dump truck. The truck fell on top of him, killing him.

For one glorious summer in 1976, Fidrych was the best pitcher in baseball. He was also the most colorful. I was eight years old at the time, and was just REALLY beginning to get into sports. To a little boy, Fidrych was close to God. He got his nickname from his resemblence to "Big Bird" on Sesame Street.

It wasn't just the devastating fastball and nasty slider. It was the way he carried himself on the mound. With his curly afro bouncing up and down, Fidrych would sling pitch after pitch, with a pace that would exhaust anyone else. He would meticulously manicure the dirt in front of the pitcher's mount before each inning. He placed the baseball in front of him and talked to it before each pitch! He would bounce up and down like a bunny rabbit when one of his infielders made a play---then would go out and personally congratulate them!!

His appeal to kids was obvious. He was one of us! This is exactly the way WE would act if we were to pitch in a major-league game!

But this wasn't an act. Everyone who played with Fidrych says he had an uber-bubbly personality. He was 21 years old when he made his Major League debut, going on ten! One teammate called him "the most natural and unaffected person I've ever met."

As further evidence of his naivete, Fidrych was a guest analyst on Monday Night Baseball once. During the middle of the broadcast, he said, "Where's the John, I gotta go!" Out of the mouths of babes...

How popular was Fidrych? The Tigers sold out his last 12 home starts. Tiger opponents would request that Fidrych pitch at least once against their teams when the Tigers hit the road, to ensure a huge turnout.

In Spring Training the following year, Fidrych suffered what would ultimately prove to be a career-ending rotator cuff injury. It was only natural the the injury would occur while he was horseplaying with a teammate in the outfield. He was never an effective pitcher again. To make the story even harder to swallow, he was hurt about two years before doctors perfected the now-famous rotator cuff surgery that would have brought that wonderful right arm back to full strength.

It would be trite to say that baseball needs more people like Fidrych, but it does. That unbridled enthusiasm was contagious. I can't remember how many times I asked Dad, "Is The Bird pitching tonight?" I wonder how many kids ask that same question today about Roy Oswalt or Jake Peavy?

The "personalities" we are left with range from assholes (Barry Bonds) to jerks (Randy Johnson), the aloof (Derek Jeter), media-savvy (A-Rod), and incomprehensible (Manny Ramirez.) The closest thing we've had to Fidrych the past thirty years is Kirby Puckett---another one who died before his time. Maybe David Ortiz fits the bill today. I don't know.

What I DO know is that no other sports figure struck this Little League Superstar like Mark Fidrych. Hopefully he's throwing a few sliders today to Ted Williams.

Bullseye!!

It might be the testosterone flowing through my glands. It might be my take-charge foreign policy in dealing with those who threaten us. Maybe it's just the reptilian portion of my brain re-assuming dominant status. But I'm feeling a healthy amount of man-love today for U.S. Navy Seals.

In case you missed it, some of America's finest yesterday needed all of three shots to take out three Somali pirates who were holding an American ship captain hostage. The sharpshooters were several-hundred yards away, perched on top of a destroyer, in pitch-black darkness, riding on choppy waters. They fired once they saw the "head and shoulders" of the pirates. They nailed all three in the head!

In what has to be the understatement of the year so far, Admiral Richard Gortney, when asked how this was possible, said the snipers were, "extremely well-trained." Boo-ya!

It's not often in life that the bad guys get what's coming to them while the good guys escape unharmed. Karma's a bitch, isn't it Pirate-boy?

The issue has shed the light on the problem of high-seas piracy. No, not the fun kind portrayed by Johnny Depp in the Disney movies, nor the ones made famous by Veggie-Tales (see picture). I have noted that the national media has ignored the previously-established connection between piracy as a funding front for Al-Quiada. Oh well. I guess I should expect no less at this point. The Associated Press' Official Stylesheet dissuades reporters from using phrases like "Islamic Radicals," or even "terrorists." Those terms are substituted with euphemstic phrases like "militants," "insurgents," and my favorite, "opposition leaders." Those who control the language control the debate.

Somewhere, Charles Bronson is smiling. This episode ended like all of the movies. Everyone who should be dead is dead---everyone who should be alive is alive. If only things always worked out so well. I'll drink a beer or two tonight for the Navy Seals, Captain Richard Phillips, each member of the Maersk-Alabama, every enlisted man in the Navy---well, you get the point!