Movin' On ... Over

I've officialy moved SMOG from Blogger to WordPress. You can now find all my entries at http://skinnysmith.wordpress.com. My previous posts will remain housed here for the foreseeable future, but are also archived at the new place.

 

To my six die-hard fans, don't worry. You can still expect to find the same long-winded, poorly researched and inconsistently published content at WordPress that you've come to enjoy(?) here.

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A Letter to My 4-Year-Old

(To be read on her 18th birthday)

 

Today is your fourth birthday. All signs of you having once been a baby – bald, babbling, chubby and small enough to nestle comfortably on my thigh – have completely vanished. You are now a long, lean, intelligent, assertive and beautiful … person. Your love for nursery rhymes and picture books is being replaced by pop music and feature films. Already, many of the mental images of your early months and years are fading, for you and for me. By the time you read this, although photos may remain, you will almost certainly have lost any personal recollections of your first daycare teachers, your nursery, your red tricycle and much more.

 

Of course, growing older will surely bring you many new cherished memories – your first day of school, your first time behind the wheel of a car … your first kiss. As a teenager, you may not yet appreciate the nostalgia of youth as much as your old man, and it’s certainly healthier to look toward the future than live in the past. Nevertheless, in the days, months and years ahead, as you gain new independence and insight into the world around you, I have one simple request:

Remember what life was like today, okay?

Remember what makes four-year-old you happy. And sad. And mad. Remember the wonders of the world that seem amazing today but, in adulthood, will seem commonplace and ordinary.

This may be challenging to do in 14 years, so I’ve tried to help by compiling a list of some of the things that make you tick right now. As you get older, time will move by faster and faster, with new stresses and challenges presenting themselves every day. I hope this will help to slow things down – to simplify life – if only for a few minutes.

Four-year-old you believes:

• Drinking water is best served piping hot.
• A ride up and down a department store escalator is more entertaining than any roller coaster.
• A bike seat is a perfect place to take a nap.
• It’s not museum-worthy art unless it includes glitter paint.
• A plain cheeseburger contains no cheese.
• The gloomiest mood can be cured by two minutes of petting a Jack Russell Terrier.
• There's never a wrong time to wear a tiara.
• Gnats are terrifying. Locusts? Awesome, and worthy of up-close inspection.
• Syrup is a useless and unnecessary condiment.
• A twirl is always required immediately after putting on a dress.
• A common crow is as awe-inspiring a creation as the most majestic eagle.
• Clean pavement and chalk are all anyone really needs to occupy a warm, sunny afternoon.
• "Polka-dot" bananas taste best.
• Bedtime always includes a hug, a kiss and a high five.
• All music is dance music

I could, of course, go on and on, but I don’t want to get too sentimental. Instead, I’ll try to tie this all together with a Dr. Seuss quote that’s a favorite of both your Mom and me. In fact, to celebrate your third birthday, your Mom posted this on Facebook (Will that still be a thing in 2028?):

Today you are you! That is truer than true! There is no one alive who is you-er than you!

Always be you. Happy Birthday, Jitterbug.

Love,
Dad

Practicing the Fundamentals

I'm dismayed by the amount of bigotry that surrounds me. Everywhere I turn, I see people, many of whom I generally respect and admire, judging, condemning and attacking those whose world doesn't fit neatly into theirs. Making it worse is the fact that so many of them do it not for themselves, but because their boss, or their buddies ... or their pastor say they should.

 

I struggle with this last one mightily. You see, I believe there is room for everyone at God's table, regardless of their lifestyles, beliefs or religious practices. It's our actions and treatment of others that determine whether or not we will celebrate eternal life in Paradise, much more than our blind devotion to following an interpretation of rules in a book.

 

I realize that I hold these values because my family, my teachers and my church all drilled them into me from a young age. They taught me to recognize that our individual paths to salvation are paved with our kind words, our charitable deeds and our treatment of others as equals; not with our outward piety and certainly not with our knee-jerk condemnation of anyone who believes or acts differently than us.

 

And I'm stressed about it. My daughter is almost four, the start of an impressionable period where every word I utter in her presence shapes her values, her beliefs and even her personality. Will I be able to teach her the right lessons while also shielding her from, or at least helping her understand, all the unfounded hatred that she'll encounter every day? I know she'll grow up surrounded by the same love that I was, but will she embrace it?

 

All I can do is try to lead her down the right path, so I’ve laid out a few key personal tenets that I hope will result in a little girl who grows up into a well-rounded and thoughtful adult:

Love and respect your neighbors. In life, you will cross paths with people from all walks of life – different races, different cultures, different intellects, different sexual preferences, and so on. You’ll meet them in school, in church, in your neighborhood and everywhere else you choose to venture. Some of them will be like-minded with you. Some of them will not. Love them either way. Greet them with a smile. If you have a disagreement, don’t be afraid to debate, but always do it with courtesy and civility. And afterwards, shake hands. If your neighbor won’t reciprocate that respect, take the moral high ground. Don’t retaliate. Walk away.

Be open-minded. Don’t stereotype. People’s life choices don’t define their worth as human beings. Don’t jump to conclusions about anyone based on their skin color, manner of dress or personality traits. Get to know them first. In some instances, you’ll find out that a person is simply a jerk, and that’s fine – you needn’t have a soft spot for everyone. But you should never hate somebody without getting to know them, and certainly not because of what some book or talking head says you should think about them or their “type.”

Choose your words carefully. What you say, and how you say it, can have consequences. Your right to speak freely doesn't absolve you from responsibility for what you say. It can impact, for better or worse, your ability to lead a productive life. It can also have a profoud effect on your ability to develop and maintain meaningful personal and profssional relationships. Follow a simple rule - if you wouldn't want people to say it to, or about you, you probably shouldn't say it to, or about them.

Give freely and willingly. When you see a Salvation Army bucket, drop in some change. If your school or office has a food drive, bring in a few cans of beans. Volunteer. And when you feel like you’ve given enough of your time and treasure, consider giving just a little bit more. There are many people in the world who are struggling, and there is always someone whose needs outweigh your desires. Our society will collapse on itself if the mighty are unwilling to lift up the weak. And never forget that although today you are mighty, tomorrow you may be weak.

Absorb as much religion as you can. Regardless of how you ultimately feel about organized religion, it’s still important to understand it. Living in my house, you'll be primarily exposed to moderately liberal Protestantism, and I hope you find value in it. But I also hope you'll find opportunities to branch out. Visit a synagogue. Check out a mosque. Attend Catholic Mass. As a society, we divide ourselves by our religious differences. Wouldn’t it be better to discover all that we have in common as a community of faith? Won’t you feel more complete as a person if you can comfortably celebrate your convictions with those who express theirs differently rather than segregate yourself from them?

Most significantly, be prepared to fail in all these things – repeatedly. You’re human. Over the course of your life your behaviors will often fall short. You’ll be stubborn. You’ll scream. You'll be selfish. You’ll pre-judge others – for their appearance, for their mannerisms and for any number of other superficial characteristics. What’s important to remember is that each time you fall, you must get up, dust yourself off and commit to trying harder the next time.

My faith teaches me that at the end of our lives, we are sent to be judged before God. Our worthiness to enter his kingdom will be determined not by how hard we prayed, and certainly not by how hard we fought against those who prayed differently than us. We will be judged by how graciously we lived our lives, how willingly we put the needs of others above our own desires, and how we never stopped – not until our dying day – striving to do better.

Rubber Ducky, You’re Not the One

Yesterday, my local minor league baseball team, known since 1998 as the Akron Aeros, changed its name to the RubberDucks.

Awful.

The team’s owner claims the change is, in part, to pay homage to the city’s history as the capital of the rubber and tire industries. I understand this to some extent. Aeros always fell pretty flat for me. Aside from boasting a few native astronauts and being located in the state that claims itself as the birthplace of modern aviation, Akron has a fairly limited connection to aerospace.

Nevertheless, from a rebranding standpoint I have to wonder how much thought really went into the name change.  It’s weak – for several reasons:

The mascot isn’t exactly "athletic." I realize that minor league sports teams (and major league teams for that matter) tend to use monikers with local connections, and many are far from intimidating.  But a rubber duck?  C’mon. The first thing I thought of when I saw the announcement was Ernie signing in the bathtub on Sesame Street. I know minor league ballgames are supposed to be family friendly, but it’s possible to be a bit too juvenile, especially when one of the stated reasons for the name change is to honor the city’s blue collar roots.

The whole local “rubber” connection will probably get lost. Golden Flashes. Runnin’ Rebels. Fightin’ Illini. With occasional exceptions, in most instances of teams using a leading adjective, fans call them by their second name. In other words, the RubberDucks are going to be called simply, the Ducks. Honestly, I’m OK with that. The ballpark sits on a canal, which attracts plenty of waterfowl. Akron is surrounded by parks and small lakes that boast sizable duck populations. But if the owner’s reason for changing the name is to pay respect to the city’s industry, he certainly missed the mark. Regardless, Ducks is certainly preferable to the potential alternative, the Rubbers.

There are better options. I think it’s admirable that the owner wants to be deferential to the city’s history, and as a former Goodyear employee, it does resonate with me. But if you want to connect to the industry, there are countless names that can accomplish it without conjuring images of a tub toy. What about Vulcans? Or Roadrunners? Or even Rollers? All could be easily branded with rubber and tires in mind. The case for going with RubberDucks just doesn’t make sense to me.

To make things worse, while the team will introduce a new costumed mascot soon, it will continue featuring the old one, Orbit, at games. In case the linked image isn’t clear, I believe Orbit is supposed to be a hedgehog based off the old Sega game, Sonic. Not only is he outdated and irrelevant – he also terrifies my daughter.

So, to summarize, I feel the name change is misguided. In my opinion, it’s actually a step backward from the previous name, and from a branding standpoint, overshoots its intended target.

And don’t get me started on the Columbus Clippers.

The Joys and Pains of Being an Indians Fan

I haven’t always been a die-hard Cleveland Indians fan.  As a kid in northwest Ohio the ‘80s, I rooted for the Tribe, but loved the Mets (and the Broncos … and the Pistons).  I was the ultimate front-runner – something I’m not terribly proud of today.

 

Nevertheless, as I grew and matured, I found myself drifting away from the contenders and cheering for the local boys.  In the summer, that meant Indians baseball – those lovable losers on the lake.  My dad is the ultimate fan and it was hard not to absorb at least some of his die-hardedness when so many of our summer days involved sitting in the back yard listening to Herb Score merrily slur his way through countless 90+ loss seasons.

 

Of course, being a Cleveland sports fan requires an ample amount of self hate.  No Cleveland team has won ANYTHING in almost 50 years.  And, for the Indians, it’s been 65 long seasons since they hoisted a World Series banner.  They’ve come oh so close in recent years (’95. ’97. ’07.), but always ended up breaking our hearts which, in some ways, hurt more than the previous decades’ consistent mediocrity.

But still, we root, root, root.

The past two seasons, however – with their scorching hot starts, disastrous middles and meaningless finishes – have, I’m sure, tested even the most loyal allegiances.  They have manifestly demonstrated what it means to be a Cleveland fan.

To me, it boils down to a few simple tenets.  I call it the Six Stages of Indians Fandom.  It’s a basic set of principles that can properly temper expectations and emotions for even the most novice Tribe fan through the slog of 162 games – with its highs, lows and everything in between:

Stage 1 (April) – Cautious Optimism: “Hey, we looked good in the Cactus League and are off to a solid start. We’ve got a few holes to fill, but I like what I’m seeing!”

Stage 2 (May) – Exuberance: “Holy sh*t!  We’re in first by a country mile!  We just swept the Tigers!  We’re on our way, baby!”

Stage 3 (June) – Wavering Hope: “Oof, rough start to the month, but we’re still leading the division.  If we can just play .500 ball the rest of the way, we should coast into the Playoffs.”

Stage 4 (July) – Rage: “How in the hell did we limp into the All Star Break on an eight game losing streak!?  I mean, seriously, how many f***ing saves can we blow in one month!?  Our closer’s an All Star for crying out loud!”

Stage 5 (August) – Disbelief: “I haven’t checked on the Tribe in a while.  I wonder how they’re doing.  What!? They’re 15 games out!?  Gahh!”

Stage 6 (September) – Apathy: “The Browns are 3-2, including the preseason.  I like our chances for the #6 Wild Card this year!  Woof!  Woof!”

As of this writing, the Indians are 2-0 and looking to sweep their season-opening series in Toronto.  Will this be the year they break the cycle?  I'm cautiously optimistic!

Itchy Trigger Fingers

Somewhere in America right now, a kid is brooding.  His girlfriend is cheating on him.  He just got fired from a job he hated.  His grades are suffering and his teachers are breathing down his neck.  The more popular kids pick on him and laugh at him.  He’s at his breaking point, ready to end it all.  But, he wants to go out in a blaze of “glory.”  Maybe get a rifle and take out a few antagonizers with him.

But he can’t, so he won’t.

That hypothetical situation has been stewing in my head all week, as I listen to calls to arm teachers, loosen restrictions and proliferate guns to more people.  The rationale being that more guns means more safety, e.g., a more heavily armed populace increases the likelihood that someone would be present and able to prevent a shooting.

While I see the individualistic logic behind a theory like this, it’s terribly flawed on a global scale.  In fact, it’s so flawed, that one of the key arguments in its favor actually works against it.

The gun advocacy crowd argues that new restrictions and regulations on certain weapons (semi-automatics, large volume magazines, etc.) won’t make a difference because “the bad guys will still find a way to get them.”  That’s true to an extent, but it’s also a very specious claim for a couple of very simple reasons:

• All laws get broken from time to time, even by me. I drive too fast. I jaywalk. I drank before I was of legal age. I’ll bet you’ve committed some of those crimes too, and more. Does that mean we should scrap the laws against them? No. Now that I’ve admitted to it, does it mean I’ll never jaywalk again? Unlikely. Laws exist to deter people from committing crimes, with the realization that they will sometimes get broken and when people get caught, there will be consequences to pay. In other words, as the gun advocates say, people are still going to get shot occasionally no matter what the law says. BUT, is that justification for inaction? Yes, criminals will still be able get their hands on guns, but shouldn’t we do everything in our power to make that as difficult as possible for them?

• Even with better training, improved mental healthcare, etc., doesn’t the law of averages indicate that more guns will equal more shootings – whether they be accidental, homicidal, suicidal, in self-defense or otherwise?  I’ll use some partially made up numbers to state this case: In 20XX, 44 million people in the U.S. owned guns and 20,000 people died as a result of being shot.  That’s one death for every 2,200 gun owners.  Let’s assume we increase the number of gun owners to 60 million.  We’d need to reduce the fatality rate to one in 3,000 gun owners to hold steady at 20,000 deaths.  Obviously, as more and more guns flood the market, those rates would need to continue declining rapidly and the statistics show they probably would not (suicides and accidental shooting deaths far outnumber mass homicides).  At the end of the day, with more guns, there will be more funerals.

Going back to my first paragraph – there are many more Dylan Klebolds and Jared Loughners and Adam Lanzas in the world.  There always will be.  They’re deranged, impulsive and think violent thoughts.  All they need is something to “flip the switch.”  We’ve all probably crossed paths with someone like this in our lives (maybe at some point, some of you were that person but thought better of lashing out).  I, for one, would prefer that we do everything possible to make obtaining weapons of destruction a real pain in the ass for them.  If nothing else, it would give them time to ponder the reality and consequences of their actions, and maybe make them realize the folly of their radical thinking, or at least decide it’s just not worth the effort.

Isn’t jumping through a few extra hoops and waiting a few more days to get your new hunting rifle worth at least that much?

Welfare Child

When I was born, my father was a broke college student and my mother worked at one of the campus cafeterias.  Upon dad’s graduation, he accepted a low-paying teaching job at a small rural high school while mom took a part-time job at the local bakery.

 

To put it bluntly, we were poor.

 

Not dirt poor.  We were never left wanting for food, clothing or shelter.  But, in those early belt-tightening days, mom and dad couldn’t necessarily guarantee all three without a little assistance.

 

So they did what millions of Americans are forced to do every day.  They swallowed their pride and asked for help from the government.  They went on food stamps and, consequently, were able to maintain a healthy family unit through those first few difficult years.

 

We were, as some might put it, part of the 47%.  The takers.

 

Fortunately, our dire financial circumstances didn’t last long.  When I was a toddler – shortly after the birth of my siblings – dad got a nice pay raise when he was hired at a bigger school (and a few years later at the local community college) and mom went to work at an optometrist’s office in town.

 

My parents were able to get off the government dole through ambition, determination and hard work.  By the time I finished high school, we were living the definition of the middle class American Dream, complete with a nice house, annual family vacations and plenty of other comforts that many people are forced to do without.  All in all, we represented a very American ideal – we were a self-made success story.

 

But, my folks weren’t really 100% self-made, were they?  Without a taxpayer-sponsored safety net to help kick-start their future, I shudder to think what might have happened to our family.  Would we have been able to ever climb out of poverty?  Would my brother and sister have ever been conceived?  Would we have had chances to play sports, go to Disney World and eventually graduate from college with minimal debt?

 

The answers to all those questions is, of course, “who knows?”  But, I think it’s safe to assume that my mother and father would have had to sacrifice at least some of the luxuries they were able to provide.  And, I can say with some certainty that I would not have the opportunities I have today if it weren’t for the help we received way back in the late ‘70s.

 

I share this because I hope it helps at least a few skeptics connect the dots.  That it helps them realize the average person collecting welfare, food stamps, Medicaid, etc. is not a lazy freeloader, but more likely someone who has fallen on hard times and may not be able to get back onto his or her feet without a little boost.

 

Are there people who game the system?  Sure, and they need to be held accountable.  But would you take away from the many who aren’t to punish the few who are?

Dear Sarah...

"I’m speaking up for him and his 1st Amendment rights and anybody else who would wish to express their not anti-gay people sentiment, but their support of traditional marriage..."

- Sarah Palin, defending Dan Cathy, President of Chick-fil-A

--

Dear Sarah:

Please study up on the Constitution.  The First Amendment protects individuals from being LEGALLY punished for their speech.  Last time I checked, no one from Chick-fil-A has been arrested for speaking up against gay marriage.

If anything, this is an ideal case study for what makes our democracy great.  Dan Cathy can say basically whatever hateful things he wants with NO fear of government reprisal (the deal with idiot running Boston is a conversation for another day – his is the kind of over-the-top reaction that makes liberals look bad).  Conversely, consumers are well within their rights to choose not to do business with a company that attempts to undermine a lifestyle they support.

Think about that.  A captain of industry speaks his mind freely.  Some agree with his stance, some do not.  Those not in agreement campaign to boycott his business, while many who agree go out of their way to show support.  Ultimately, the business will succeed or fail based not on any actions of government, but on the feelings of consumers.  It’s the perfect marriage of democracy and capitalism which – if I remember my elementary school Social Studies correctly – are the two primary foundational principles upon which our Union was established.

In summary, Sarah, if you want your political views to be taken seriously by anyone outside the fringes of the Tea Party, please find yourself an old Civics textbook and start reading.

Sincerely,

All of us who apparently understand the Bill of Rights better than a former Vice Presidential candidate

Sight for Sore Eyes

At some point in the second grade, I started periodically coming home from school with blinding headaches.  I can remember writhing and crying in agony on my parents’ bed praying for the pain to stop.  I can be a bit of a drama queen, so I’m sure I overdid it significantly, but still, it hurt like hell.

Over the course of the school year, these episodes became more and more frequent.  It didn’t take Dr. Oxley, the family optometrist, too long to realize that a combination of a desk in the back of the classroom and rapidly degenerating vision were causing the grief.  On the second to last day of school, I put on my first pair of glasses.  Oversized with bulky, brown plastic frames – they were NOT a model of high fashion.

For the next 28 years, my life became a never-ending cycle of increasing prescriptions and thicker lenses, then bifocals, then soft contacts, then disposables and, finally, in my early thirties, when my eyes could no longer handle the strain of the slick ribbery discs anymore, it was back to glasses nearly full-time.  While my latest pair of specs are a bit more stylish than those of 1984, they still provided all the same dilemmas – smudges, grimy noseguards and poor grip in any sweat-inducing environment.

But that all started coming to an end on Tuesday, March 13, 2012, when I placed a call to the folks at Clear Choice Custom LASIK Center (along with a few other clinics) to inquire about corrective surgery.  You can imagine my surprise when they were able to get me in for a pre-op consultation two days later and then scheduled my surgery for March 23 (three days ago as of this entry).

On the day of my surgery, I woke up with 20/475 vision and by 2:30 p.m., was 20/15.  Walking out of the clinic that afternoon and being able to read the street signs was one of the most euphoric experiences of my life.

So here comes my sales pitch, directed primarily at any of my 18 loyal readers who are considering LASIK surgery:

Do it.

Here are a few of the things I did this weekend that I have literally NEVER been able to do without the aid of corrective lenses:

• Drive a car
• Mow the lawn
• Watch my kid and dogs romp around at the park

I spent the better part of Friday night lying in bed staring at a door frame outside our bedroom, admiring the sharp, crisp edges and angles.  Dorky?  Yes.  But don’t knock it until you try it.

Nevertheless, I don’t want to totally oversell it, so I’ll lay out some of the pros and cons I’ve experienced to help provide a more balanced viewpoint:

Cons

• When the anesthetic wore off after the surgery, the burning sensation in my eyes was almost unbearable until I was able to get into bed and keep them shut for a few hours
• I’ll have sensitivity to bright lights and some dimming of vision in the dark for the next week.
• I’m experiencing a lot of dryness and abrasiveness and, along with a week of prescription medication, will need to apply artificial tears for the next few weeks.
• I’ll have periodic blurred vision during the healing process.
• I have to tape these dopey protective shields over my eyes when I sleep to ward off the impulse to scratch, rub and squeeze.
• I have to wear sunglasses outdoors at all times for the next seven days, which looks pretty stupid when it’s gray and rainy outside.
• I have to be very cautious to keep foreign substances out of my eyes.  This includes showering (and drying off) with my eyes shut for the next week, which is not easy when you have my level of (un)coordination.

Pros

• I. CAN. SEE.

You’d be surprised at how drastically that one Pro outweighs all the Cons.

So, as I said, do it.  But don't be afraid to shop around.  There are clinics everywhere that provide the service.  I only have three pieces of advice:

1. Don’t make a decision based on price.  Cheaper probably isn’t better, but that doesn’t mean the most expensive is your best option either.
2. When you make your initial calls, ask a lot of questions.  This will help you set a comfort level.  Do the same if/when you go in for a consultation.
3. Ask around.  You’ll be amazed at how many people you know have had a LASIK procedure.  Two of my neighbors had theirs done at Clear Choice and gave rave reviews.  This did wonders to ease my nerves before my surgery.

I’ll close by recommending that you at least consider the folks at Clear Choice – at least if you’re in Northeast Ohio.  They’re friendly, they’re experienced and their clinic includes a little “café” that is always stocked with complimentary fresh drinks and cookies.  Here’s how you can find them:

Clear Choice Customer LASIK Center
7001 S Edgerton Rd, Suite D
Brecksville, OH 44141
(440) 740-0400

http://www.clearchoicelaser.com

Trust me, once you make the decision, you’ll “see” why I’ve made such a fuss. (nyuck nyuck)

A Jobs Well Done

Today’s Internet has been flooded with tributes to Steve Jobs, from one sentence tweets to pages-long homages.  There’s no questioning his brilliance.  He brought modern technology to the masses.  He made complexity simple.  He made “nerdy” pursuits fun. 

But I think, most importantly, he introduced beauty to an unbeautiful world.  Here’s how I know:

For Father’s Day, my wife bought me an iPod Touch.  Frankly, I didn’t need it – I already had a Droid 2.  But, as soon as I tore off the wrapping paper, I was hooked.  Even the box was stunning in its artistic simplicity.  And, the iPod itself was dazzling!  It was gleaming silver.  It was sleek.  It rested perfectly in my hand.  In a word, it was gorgeous.  I liked to look at it as much as I liked to actually use it.  My Droid – ugly and clunky – immediately went to the wayside, used only for the occasional phone call or text message.

Unfortunately, one day later, the Touch fell onto a concrete floor.  It was still functional, but shattered – the screen barely legible under a spider web of cracked glass.

Getting it repaired took a few days and, when it came back, we made sure to eliminate future breakage risk by covering it with a heavy-duty rubber case.  It was now protected from the inevitable mishaps of its clumsy owner.

And I immediately loved it less.

It was like covering Aphrodite with a burka.  The iPod still functioned as it had before.  The apps were the same.  The screens were the same.  But the experience wasn’t.  It was heavy.  It was bulky.  It was inelegant.  It was disappointing.

Don’t get me wrong – I still love my iPod and am incessantly tinkering with it.  It’s fast, it’s got the best app store on the market and it has great multimedia capabilities.  It’s the best PDA I’ve ever owned, even without the cellular capabilities of a smartphone.

But it’s no longer a thing of beauty.

And, that, in my opinion, was the genius of Steve Jobs.  From the first iMac to the latest iPad, the Apple products that bore his mark of leadership were as well suited for display on a living room credenza as they were in an office cubicle.  Think about it … when’s the last time someone came up to you to show off their hip new BlackBerry or HP Pavilion? 

Jobs insisted, sometimes militantly, that form be inherently married to functionality.  No innovator in recent history – from Ben Franklin to Henry Ford to Bill Gates – understood this better than he did.

And I’m not sure anyone ever will.

Blow Up the BCS!

I like symmetry.  It’s why I was a mediocre architecture student – great engineer, terrible artist.  But sometimes my boring, balanced view of the world can come in handy.  And that’s why I think I have the solution to fix the mess that has become of I-A (Bowl Subdivision) college football.  And, since it’s somehow been consuming me for the past few days, I guess I’ll commit it to writing, even though I know there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell anything like this would ever come to fruition.

• There are currently 124 (or so) teams in I-A.  Add a few worthy programs from I-AA (Appalachian State, for example) to round it out to a nice even 128.
• No more conferences – they’ve become a mockery anyway.  Instead, to borrow from Ohio high school football, align schools into eight geographical regions and assign 16 teams to each region.  Then break each region into two eight team divisions (or “districts”).
• Follow the Minor League Baseball model and further break everything into a top-level and secondary level (like AAA and AA in MILB), so you have 64 schools in 1-A-1 and 64 in I-A-2.  In Season 1, schools would have to be assigned at the discretion of some sort of ranking committee.
• In an 11 game regular season, schools play everybody in their region, as well as a few outside of it.  1-A-1 and 1-A-2 schools would never play each other (no more cupcake games!).
• The top teams from each district play for the regional championship, with these winners advancing to an eight team playoff to determine the National Champion.  In other words, there would be TWO postseasons, one for 1-A-1 and another for 1-A-2.
• More borrowing – this time from European soccer: At the end of the season, the last place team from each 1-A-1 district is relegated to 1-A-2 the following season and the first place team from each 1-A-2 district is promoted.  The geographic alignments at both levels would mirror each other making it a seamless swap each year.

Think about it, by getting rid of conferences and the BCS, you eliminate the “no respect” complaints of programs like Boise State and TCU.  Schools would earn or lose respect and championship opportunities based entirely on their on-field performance and never because of conference affiliation or biased polls.

Plus, with this setup, you’d still have 32 1-A schools playing at least one postseason game, meaning you could theoretically maintain some sort of Bowl system, albeit with the elimination of many second-tier games (Who cares about the New Mexico Bowl anyway – besides gamblers?).

I’m sure someone with more smarts than me could easily start poking holes in my idea, considering I came up with it in about 15 minutes.  Nevertheless, with the system’s current mess, I haven’t seen anybody else bring anything to the table (aside from some terrible ideas over at ESPN.com).

Until I do, I’ll be busy doodling nice proportional squares and circles in my notebook.

Partisan-patory Government

I was channel surfing yesterday and landed on one of the cable news stations (I can’t remember which one), which was playing rapid-fire sound bites from politicians discussing the recent U.S credit downgrade.  First a Democrat blamed the Republicans, then a Republican blamed the Democrats, then another Democrat blamed the Republicans, and so on.  Some liberals have actually referred to it as the “Tea Party Downgrade.”

Then, when I did my morning scan of Yahoo! News today, I noted that two of the top five Most Popular headlines were "White House adviser blames tea party for downgrade" and "GOP candidates slam Obama in reaction to S&P downgrade."

To all that I say, listen you idiots … you’re all complicit.  Democrats and Republicans.  Conservatives and liberals.  Our current financial mess is the fault of ALL OF YOU.  It doesn’t matter who’s in the White House, or who controls Congress, or which political movement is carrying the momentum today.  You couldn’t cooperate, so you ended up making a panicked short-term deal at the 11th hour that is pretty lousy for everybody.

Democrats: We cannot remain solvent without making difficult decisions about the social safety net.  I don’t want to hear another liberal politician state “we won’t reduce the debt on the backs of children and seniors.”  It sounds noble, but it’s unrealistic because our current systems are so archaic.  Take Social Security as an example.  Seniors ain’t what they were in the ‘40s when life expectancy was 63 (Isn’t 60 the new 40, or something like that?).  We simply haven’t adjusted for the times.  So stop poo-pooing Republican proposals.  From what I’ve seen, many of the changes are long-term and wouldn’t impact the people with a current stake anyway.

Republicans: Tax increases won’t destroy the economy.  The economy has been faltering for the better part of 10 years, a period of relatively low taxation.  Our country’s economic golden age came in the ‘50s, when taxes were generally higher.  Getting back to that isn’t rocket science: close loopholes and make income taxes more equitable.  And if you really want to use low taxation as an economic engine, find a way to offer big breaks to companies that keep jobs in the U.S.  If CEOs complain that taxes are hurting profits, tell them a simple solution would be offering better products that more people will actually want to buy.

Of course, that’s oversimplified.  Effectively governing hundreds of millions of people is complicated business.  Nevertheless, I don’t understand why every issue facing our nation becomes another round of rigid disagreement and, ultimately, finger-pointing.

I have friends across the political spectrum.  Sometimes we disagree on stuff.  Sometimes we debate.  However, I can’t recall a single time where one of those debates didn’t result in each of us coming around – at least a little bit – to see the other’s point of view.

It’s called compromise, and last time I checked, it’s not an evil thing.  Consider trying it sometime.  You might be pleasantly surprised by the results.

Terror in Aisle Six

I’ve always found the rules of the road to be pretty basic: drive on the right side; look both ways at crossings; yield to the right if slowing or stopped; and so on.  The same applies to bike and pedestrian traffic.  In my experience, people generally understand and abide by these guidelines.

So what is it with the grocery store?  Does it exist in some bizarre dimension where the rules don’t apply?  Tonight, I did some shopping at my local Acme Fresh Market.  During my 25 minute visit, I experienced the following:

• A woman near the pharmacy, sitting to take her blood pressure, who decided the best parking spot for her cart was sideways across the entire aisle, blocking my path, as well as that of a fellow shopper coming the opposite direction
• A man zigzagging slowly down the potato chip aisle, looking at nothing in particular, but making passage impossible
• A woman comparison shopping for a taco kit, standing firmly in the middle of the aisle as her children ran to and fro, in and out of the paths of oncoming carts
• A woman in a motorized cart blindly blasting out from the checkout at about 15 miles per hour, nearly getting t-boned from both sides, and then shooting dirty looks at each of the two near-colliders (one of whom happened to be me)

I wish I could say these were unexpected occurrences, but it’s actually unusual for these types of things not to happen during my weekly milk and bread run (and in the grand scheme of things, it’s certainly not confined to the supermarket – it seems to happen at every big box retailer regardless of location, demographics or product offering).

But why?  What causes people to completely abandon all courtesy and common sense the moment their hands touch the grimy molded plastic of the shopping cart handle?  Frankly, it amazes me that you don’t see an occasional fistfight break out when two bargain hunters collide in their mad dash to get to the discounted Velveeta (something else I almost witnessed tonight).

I guess I can’t explain it, but I’ll offer this public service announcement anyway: be conscious of your surroundings and follow a few basic rules when shopping:

• If you decide to stop and browse, move your cart as far to the right as possible.
• If stopping in the vicinity of another cart, leave enough distance so that other shoppers can maneuver through.
• If passing a slower moving customer, do so cautiously and to the left.
• If you’re about to cross an intersecting aisle, stop and look both ways before proceeding.
• Most importantly, never – ever – stop suddenly and without warning.

And, when your shopping is complete and you reach the cashier, have your wallet/purse/checkbook ready and move along as soon as the transaction is complete.  Trust me, the small stack of nickels and pennies the cashier just handed you is almost definitely the correct change.

That's Gay

I rarely spout my political viewpoints in a public forum.  Healthy political debate seems to be dead and I’m not about to lose friends over trifling economic and social issues that don’t really stir me up all that much.  But, with the recent gay marriage ruling in New York and all the inevitable pot-stirring that is already started on both sides of the issue, I feel compelled to share a few rambling thoughts.

I won’t share my own personal viewpoint on gay marriage (although the tone of this message will make it pretty self evident).  I simply want to ask a very simple question to all the people who have spent so many years adamantly opposing its legalization…

Why do you care?

Is it because it’s against your religious beliefs?

Then make sure your church/temple/mosque/etc. makes a ban on gay marriage one of its cornerstones of worship – that’s your right in a freely religious society.  But why insist on mixing the laws of your church with the laws of your land?

Here’s the thing – religious marriage and civil marriage are not the same, no matter how much some people try to tell you they are.  I don’t want the government telling my pastor how to consecrate the covenant of holy matrimony and I don’t want my pastor telling me how to file my joint income tax return.

And besides, the argument that homosexuality is a deviant, Scripture-defying trait has a pretty weak application here.  We are, on a whole, an “immoral” society.  Many of our sinful behaviors are even allowed by the government.  We drink to excess.  We gamble.  We work on the Sabbath.  Even the most pious of us defy God’s will frequently.  From The 10 Commandments, to the Golden Rule, to all the ancient Jewish laws found in Leviticus (home of the famous “man shall not lie with man, as with woman” rule), none of us is without sin.  If our government legislated directly from the Bible (or the Torah.  Or the Quran), we’d all be in jail.

But the morality of homosexuality is beside the point anyway.  Even if gay marriage does break God’s law, what impact does it have on you if it’s approved by Man’s law?  Your path to Heaven is yours and yours alone.  If your gay neighbor decides to marry her partner, it doesn’t change your trajectory toward Salvation.

Is it because you fear it creates a “slippery slope” to legalizing other “unordinary” behaviors?

I’ve heard arguments that legalizing gay marriage opens the door to everything from legal child brides to people marrying their pets.  Not really.  A good chunk of our nation’s laws are designed to protect those who are unable to protect and/or think for themselves (children, for example).  Two able-minded, consenting same-sex adults who decide to get married need no such protection, at least no more than two able-minded consenting opposite sex adults do.

Others bring up polygamy, which is technically also marriage between consenting adults.  However, I view the illegality of polygamy to be more on the grounds of equal protection and administration (handling of Social Security benefits, etc.).  I don’t see how, legally, that would be the case with gay marriage, which mirrors heterosexual marriage in every way except gender.

Is it because you fear it will destroy the concept of the nuclear family?

We heteros have been doing a spectacular job of that already.  We are surrounded by dysfunction, some of it allowed by law – divorce, infidelity, domestic abuse, etc., etc.

My parents are Baby Boomers, a generation with a divorce rate hovering around 50%.  While I was lucky to grow up in a home that could have rivaled The Brady Bunch, many people I know did not, and some have the scars to show for it.  I fail to see how these negative trends could be any worse in homes with two dads or two moms.  And frankly, gay households are going to exist whether the couples are married or not.  Private adoption agencies and fertility clinics tend to be fairly non-discriminatory when it comes to sexual orientation.

I’d go further, but I don’t want to delve into any philosophical arguments for or against homosexuality.  I’m simply trying to point out that, amidst all the hysteria, the legalization of gay marriage is just as unlikely to turn the United States into a lawless wasteland as it is to send our entire citizenry to Hell.

Remember, at its core, democracy is designed to protect life, liberty and property.  Our American system follows this concept, albeit a bit more vaguely, replacing “property” with “the pursuit of happiness.”  It's a simple set of tenets behind which every part of our society is meant to be governed.

So I ask again ... why do you care?.  How does state-approved gay marriage legally infringe on any of these ideals for you?

Old Man Smitty

When I was 17, the pitching staff on my American Legion baseball team (Go Post 121!) was beset with injuries.  As a result, the bulk of the workload fell to me.  At a typical Saturday doubleheader, I’d open with a complete game and then pitch the first few innings of game two.  Then, on Sunday, I’d throw a few more innings before the ol’ right arm finally gave out.  In between I’d go through the motions of stretching and wrapping my arm in ice.

I share this recollection because I joined an amateur hardball team this year, and recently opened my season with a 3.2 inning outing.  I stretched before and iced after, just like old times.  My next appearance came 10 days later in relief.  My arm was so sore when I warmed up that I had to slather on some of my 40-year-old teammate’s arthritis cream (basically industrial strength Icy Hot) to get through my two inning stint.

Why am I struggling to bounce back from something that would have once been so completely non-taxing?  I mean, I think I’m still in decent shape.  I play tennis and basketball.  I bike.  I watch my calories (somewhat).  Even the aches and pains that have periodically flared up in the past (knees, back, etc.) could always be pinpointed to other non-age-related factors.

I know that as I get into a regular rhythm, my arm will start to hold up a little better.  I may even, at some point, regain a semblance of the ballplayer I was all those summers ago.  But, I also realize that it’s going to take a heck of a lot more than my old “rehab” routine between games and between seasons to keep healthy and fit for action.

All in all, it’s just a sore arm – nothing to lose sleep over.  But that’s not the point.  The point is, I’ve finally been hit square between the eyes with the realization that I’ll never be able to do things like a kid again without consequences.  It’s a little disheartening.  Until this spring, I honestly thought I still had the physical prowess of a teenager; that it was just a matter of “flipping the switch” to get through any strenuous activity, athletic or otherwise.

Evidently, that’s not the case.  I’m faced with a new realization that my prime has passed, and that extended preparation and recovery (and painkillers) will each become an increasing part of my routine.  Like generations before me, I’ll adapt and continue through life in this new reality.  But from now on, when I look in the mirror, I’ll no longer be staring at the illusion of the skinny high school jock that I once was.  Instead, I guess I’ll see what everyone else sees – a somewhat paunchy thirtysomething with a slightly receding hairline and a goatee that’s speckled with gray.

I guess there’s nothing to do now but get myself a comfortable rocking chair, a pitcher of Arnold Palmers and a subscription to Golf Digest.

Eating Vicariously

My daughter, Abby, is nearing a glorious chapter in her new-ish existence.  While today, her diet consists mostly of fruits and vegetables, soft meats, and bland cookies and crackers, she is right around the corner from junk food nirvana.  I’m talking bright-colored cereals, chocolaty cookies and sugary drinks.

Before long, Abby will be ready to start eating for real.  And kids don’t need to watch their calories like adults do.  They have high metabolism and, as I understand it, a little fat in the diet is actually good for their physical development.  This means that our cupboards are going to be stocked with all levels of kid-focused staples.  I can’t wait.  It’s gonna be feast time for the daughter AND her old man.

Oh yes, I will partake in the bounty.

I’m not about to pretend that I’m the world’s healthiest eater, but you’re currently unlikely to find any cartoon characters in the pantry.  Chef Boyardee rarely pays the Smiths a visit.  And words like “soft batch,” double stuff” and “Keebler” are rarely found on our foodstuffs’ packaging.

That will all change as soon as Abby’s ready to dig in.  Here are just a few of the reasons I’m excited:

• Fruity Pebbles
• Velveeta grilled cheese on white bread
• Fish sticks
• Spaghetti-Os
• Oreo cookies
• Whole chocolate milk
• Kool-Aid

It will be a treasure trove of artificial sweeteners and preservatives – things you don’t see in the average “adult” household.  I think I’m gaining weight simply by writing this.

I’ve already had a sample of what lies ahead and it’s not pretty.  When Abby started cutting teeth, we got her one of those two pound cartons of Goldfish crackers.  She liked them just fine, but it was her dad who really put a dent in the inventory.  I’d say for every one cracker she ate, I took down about two handfuls’ worth.

Now, none of this means I’ll be throwing responsibility out the window.  I don’t want myself, or my kid, to blow up like a balloon.  Fast food will be an exception, not a rule.  Portion control will be important, as will a steady stream of fruits and vegetables and physical activity (I’m going to need Abby on the move as much as possible so I can chase after her and get a little exercise of my own!).

Nevertheless, I’m eagerly awaiting our first full-scale “big kid” trip to the grocery store.  In the meantime, if anyone needs me, I’ll be eating a granola bar (a great source of fiber!).