NudgingFate.com

Match.com is really doing women on their site a disservice when they place this, um, eye-catching ad next to the 1” x ¾” pictures of “women seeking men.” I mean, there are some beautiful women on there, but man… Compared to air-brushed perfection? Unfair. I suppose it also pops up when women are checking out guys, so maybe the ladies are getting some shopping in and match.com is getting some click-through revenue. Actually, they got me to click through and look around, but I didn’t buy anything…today.

If many of the lonely souls are like me, then they take some time to write a “grabber” headline. So, I wonder what the thought process was for the women who came up with these:

Yet another dating service – That’s the spirit! You’ll be marrying your soulmate in no time!
RN seeks man with active brain waves – OK. Will an EKG be involved to verify?
Toss a football or wear a black dress – This is a good one, but it would have been so much better had she used “while wearing…”
*#^@^%#%@!!!!!!!!! – Maybe it’s just me, but there’s a “Bobbit-esque” vibe to this one.
Is there anyone NORMAL out there??!! – Um. No. Not really.
If married, drunk or liar do not reply – My favorite. A woman who knows what she doesn’t want.
Nudging Fate – Interesting. I think this is what most people are hoping an internet dating site will do for them. In fact, it would make a great name for a site…

Don’t Drop It (Even if it’s Hot)

"The greatest moments of the human spirit may be deduced from the greatest moments in music." - Aaron Copland

The RustedRobot passed me a musical baton a few days ago. I will now do my part by picking it up off the stadium floor to keep the sonic relay going…



Total volume of music files on my computer: 5GB
The last CD I bought was: yesterday - “A sides win – singles 1992-2005” by Sloan
Song playing right now: “Still Be Around” by Uncle Tupelo (live)
Five songs I listen to a lot, or that mean a lot to me: These are in my 64M Nomad IIc that I use while working out, so I hear these at least 3 times a week:

1. “Whatshername” by Green Day
2. “Prove it All Night" (live in NYC) by Bruce Springsteen
3. “Rock Your Ass” by The Supersuckers
4. “Cold Hard Bitch” by Jet
5. “Ready for You” by Sloan (June 15th at TT The Bears – Cambridge)

I now elect to pass the baton to:
Megan, Barb, Dave and Mary
Leave yours in the comments field…

Fresh Squeezed

I think we can all agree not nearly enough is written about toothpaste. You know, think globally, act orally. I mean, imagine how much more unpleasant all those annoying friends, relatives, in-laws and especially close-talkers would be if not for Mentadent or Tom’s of Maine?

It amazes me how our senses can cause memory flashbacks to a time when we smelled, heard or tasted something memorable. For example, the smell of fresh pine in the Spring brings me back to an early game of catch, and hearing Grand Funk Railroad’s “We’re an American Band” conjures up images of my lifelong friend Mike Gonnella dancing at a party one night Sophomore year in High School in nothing but his whitey-tighties, but I’m swerving somewhere we don’t want to go. Let’s get back between the white lines.

Last week I bought a new Crest flavor called “Citrus Splash.” The consumer product marketeers have absolutely nailed me with this orange thing. I have Citrus Listerine, Ultra Palmolive with Orange Extracts and even Orange Pledgewipes. I don’t drink orange juice anymore though. Too many useless carbs. Anyway, as soon as the Crest Citrus splashed onto my tastebuds, I was sent reeling into a Time Tunnel visit back to high school when people drank Tang because supposedly Gemini astronauts did and every bad drinking story usually went like this:

Hero #1: “Did you hear that freak Johnson puked his guts out at the Youth Center?”
Hero #2: (Laughing) “Too many beers?”
Hero #1: “Tango. All over the juke-box.”
Hero #2: “Mah-Don” (Hero #2 was Italian) “Tango… No wonder.”
Freak: (Off in the distance yelling) “F&^%ing heroes s%ck!!!”
Hero #1: “Loser.”
Hero #2: “Pussy. I’ll kick his…”

Yeah, Tango was a cheap, pre-mixed screwdriver drink that tasted like Tang but was mostly alcohol. I don’t think they make the stuff anymore, but back when That 70’s Show was real, Tango could really ruin a Friday night (and most of a Saturday...). So, if you’re a late baby-boomer, try Crest Citrus Splash. It’ll take you back.

Got a minute?

Many of us will enjoy a holiday day off on Monday specifically because of those who have died serving this country. Memorial Day originated as “Decoration Day” between 1866-68 to decorate the graves of our Civil War dead with flowers. The holiday was officially expanded in 1971 to honor all American war dead. Every American should do some reflecting on the meaning of this ultimate sacrifice made by so many.

I do think I understand the loss to some small extent, even though I’m fortunate to not have lost loved ones to war. While working for NEC around ten years ago in our DC office, I went our for a morning run. It was a crisp Easter Sunday. As I ran down New York Avenue to the Capitol Mall, the combination of cold air and warm rushing blood heightened my senses. I ran past the reflecting pool and up the stairs of the Lincoln Memoral to marvel at the size of a marbelized old Abe sitting in his chair. As I exited, I saw black and headed directly there.

The Vietnam Veterans Memorial Wall is made up of two black granite walls about 250 feet long that meet to form a “V.” Inscribed are the names of over 58,000 who died. The walls are sunk into the ground with the top level with the earth behind them. At the apex of the “V”, they are just over ten feet high, and they taper down to eight inches (20cm) at each end, so when I approached, the wall was underwhelming. I began my descent. As I walked down, my breathing was slowing toward the stillness of the place. I scanned the thousands of names, but I wasn’t moved. Then I saw a rose, just like this one.

There was a note with it. I haltingly stooped down, opened the note and read, “To my son. I love you and I miss you. Mom.” I felt an immediate and overwhelming rush of emotion and quickly resumed my run to get out of there. It wasn’t the enormity of over 58,000 names that got me, but the personal pain of one mother grieving the loss of her child.

Did you know that there is a National Moment of Remembrance at 3pm on Memorial Day? It asks Americans, wherever they are, to pause for one-minute in an act of national unity. It is intended to help reclaim Memorial Day as the sacred holiday it was meant to be. So, regardless of the politics of our wars, the dead didn’t make the policy. Give them a minute on Monday.

My Lucky Day!

I just got IM’d by “kareemseun” and told I would get “a percentage” of $15 Million just for being me! (It’s about time I might add…) Anyway, I played with this cretin for about fifteen minutes then asked it how many people fall for the scam. Apparently, appealing to the greed and stupidity of Americans doesn’t just work in the stock market. Wired reports that an Aussie bilked quite a few dopes out of $3.8 million in 2004.

Apples and Grapes

I receive a weekly (unless he’s slacking) newsletter called “Business Banter” by Tony Paradiso. Tony is smart and sarcastic, two qualities I hold dear. Here’s just a three ounce beer sampler of this weeks rant:

“Sadly, if we had begun serious research on alternative fuels during the 1974 oil embargo we’d probably have solved the problem by now. Unfortunately that would have taken real leadership from Washington. It would have also required an attention span longer than the life span of a tsetse fly from the American public. Neither of those existed then or now.”

If you’d like the free Business Banter, shoot an eMail to Tony. Also check out his weekly column in the Nashua Telegraph.

Tony ended this week with a humorous observation on the sexes submitted by one Leslie S:

“Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don’t want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the ground that aren’t as good, but easy. The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they’re amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who’s brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.

Now men ... men are like a fine wine. They begin as grapes, and it’s up to women to stomp the crap out of them until they turn into something acceptable to have dinner with!”

I do despise heights, but I love a good apple.

Feels Like Rain

You know how people joke about Seattle when it’s raining a lot? No? Anyway, I spent about two weeks in the Great Northwest (Portland, Seattle, Vancouver) in 1992 and didn’t feel a drop of rain. I also met Carol on that trip and we’ve remained friends to this day. That’s 13 years… Wow. So I’m not really writing about the rain, although it seems our recent weather and extended forecast through forever looks like this:

“Feels Like Rain” is from John Hiatt’s 1989 record, “Slow Turning.” The title track may have been his biggest hit, and contains lyrics that can make any baby-boomer dad smile:

“Now I'm in my car
I got the radio on
I'm yellin' at the kids in the back
'Cause they're bangin' like Charlie Watts”

I love his songwriting, and with 18 records (#19 due June 21), there are just tons of great songs in his catalog. Hiatt's songs have been covered by Bob Dylan, Iggy Pop, Nick Lowe, Emmylou Harris, Bonnie Raitt, Willie Nelson, and B. B. King with Eric Clapton, just to name a few.

As is the case for much of the music I love, it’s usually Jeff or Dave that have turned me on to it. In this case, Dave made me a John Hiatt compilation CD about 5 years ago and that was it. I’ve seen him a couple times live with Kyle at the Cape Cod Melody Tent. It’s one of those summer theatre places that caters to a somewhat upscale crowd. At one of the shows as we approached the concession area I scanned the menu and said, “I’ll have a champagne…” then looked at Kyle to get the rest of my order… “and M&M’s please.”

Here’s another example of his fine writing and upcoming tour dates so you can see and hear for yourself.

Speaking of Mom…

She’s 65 today. Much of our family will head to her house to celebrate. Most of her four sisters and two brothers will be there, plus an assortment of cousins and their kids. My brother Kevin flew up from Philly. Mom and her siblings were orphaned by the time she was seven, and she’s become the central, stabilizing force that unifies the family.

People find strength in themselves through her. Many would benefit by emulating her. As a single mother of three boys, she worked incredibly hard with both a job and college, doggedly pursuing education as a path to a more fulfilling life. I remember during high school, she’d be at the kitchen table studying every night long after I’d gone to bed. When I graduated high school in 1976, Mom received her Nursing degree. All the while, she provided a good life for her three boys.

Those years were compelling evidence of the value education and hard work can bring. I’m incredibly proud of her, and thankful for the example she provided to me growing up. Oh, and I’m really thankful for that time she let me stay up to watch Batman… Happy Birthday, Mom. I love you.

Batman is Coming

Frank Gorshin passed away this week. Mr. Gorshin played the Riddler in the original Batman TV series.

I remember well Wednesday January 12, 1966. ABC had really hyped their new show and this seven year old was fired up, although I must have been something else, as “fired up” had not yet made the lexicon.

My mother was letting me stay up for this “late” show and it was in COLOR! The show was incredible with computers, utility belts, secret bat caves, the batmobile and the Riddler. In later shows, I would experience Catwoman, an image that shaped my view of feminine magnetism that lingers to this day. (Note: Maybe I should open a Freudian wing of the blog…)

Twenty three years passed and the film version with Michael Keaton and Jack Nicholson hit the screens. Again, I was as fired up as that seven year old, the only difference being that I didn’t watch the movie in “feety pajamas” like in ’66. My wife had no interest in going, so I went alone. Just me, a popcorn and coke in the 7th row center. Life was good and the Tim Burton film blew me away. It’s funny, and maybe even ironic, but “Batman” remains one of Kyle’s favorite movies and he wasn’t even born when it was released.

The little bat around 1997...

Needless to say, we’ll be there when “Batman Begins” again on June 15th.

Heart of Darkness

Kyle and I went to see “Revenge of the Sith” today, the final “prequel” to the original 1977 “Star Wars,” but you knew that. At one point, I actually thought to myself this is just another rehashing of space battles and light-saber duels. That was until the final 45 minutes when the dark matter really hit the fan. This time George Lucas takes us past the colorful obliteration of a planet into a place more worthy of exploration. The darkness in all of us.

Sweet Illusions

Also a great new song from Ryan Adams on his new record, Cold Roses…

A few days in Napa have me thinking of returning. I’ll return with the woman I love. We’ll listen to music and silently admire the beauty of the valley as we travel leisurely from galleries to vineyards and restaurants. Our hands will brush and then come together slowly like leaves floating to the ground in Fall. No words will be necessary. The kids will be home this time. Megan will be happy and looking forward to college. Kyle will be reading her the latest Harry Potter novel. Jessica will be helping her Mackenzie with homework. Sweet indeed.

All Work and No Play…

I’m jumping on a plane tonight bound for San Francisco. On second thought, jumping may not be in good taste, so I’ll walk on. My lovely ex-wife believes my business trips are just vacations. In this case, the location is certainly suitable for one. Arriving in the city by the bay at 10:12pm, my boss Paul and I will drive to the Silverado Country Club and Resort in Napa Valley for two days of meetings and one day of a local User’s Conference. Even though we won’t have time for golf, we’ll be in a picturesque location and will visit the Bistro Jeanty for a team dinner and a winery for a customer event. Hopefully the brunette will be there.

The Tipping Point?

Lately I’ve been seeing a substantial increase in news stories related to energy:

• debates on the construction of new nuclear power plants
• tips on conserving gasoline
• making hydrogen from excess oranges and trash in Florida
• analysis of why our domestic automakers keep getting their clocks cleaned (where did that cliché come from?) by the likes of Toyota, the leader in gas-electric hybrid technology. The reason for this, of course, is illustrated in the graph below.

That’s just what I’ve paid. Prices are much higher elsewhere, and in California drivers pay over $3.00 per gallon. In Europe prices are even higher, but they measure in liters, so who can do that conversion in their head? You'll just have to take my word for it. So, are we nearing the “Tipping Point” when we begin a real break from oil and invest in cleaner alternative energy? Stay tuned.

Tom Petty’s best song EVER…

A few months ago, ol’ pal Jeff turned me on to Grouper. Since then, our little group has expanded, contracted and imploded, but that’s another story. Anyway, my other buddy Dave (yeah, I have only 2), has a buddy Jim who’s in Dave’s Group-er. Get it? You with me? Actually, I’m streaming some of Jim’s music right now. The song description indicates it’s “Shaky Ground” by Uncle Tupelo, but what’s actually playing is “Take Me When You Go” by the Jayhawks. Grouper is kinda funky that way. I think Dave had an aneurism over Grouper earlier today, but I digress.


Dave having an aneurism... or singing.

A new Grouper feature is this thing called “Glog It.” It’s like a Grouper Blog… G-log. Get it? So I’m reading Jim’s glog and one entry says, “Tom Petty’s Best Song… Has to be this one.” Under it is an icon that says “Tom Petty Track 4.” I click on it and one note convinced me he was right on. From Petty’s first record, this song grabbed me by the throat back in college over a “Wild One,” but hearing the words again make me think of someone else.

“Oh, No, Not You Again.”

Back in the fall of 1981, Marty Gronberg, one of my college roomates read aloud from the Arizona Wildcat about the Rolling Stones touring and that the closest spot to us was at the University of Colorado in Boulder. “We’re there,” quickly piped up Phil Sheridan. Phil loved the Stones, but it would be over 20 years later when I fully realized Phil was a full-fledged band groupie. I recall thinking they were over even back then. I mean it was 3 years past “Some Girls,” in hindsight, the last gasp of a great band. The trip was great, taking us through Albuquerque during their annual International Balloon Fiesta.

Seeing the Stones for the first time was exhilarating, and the scene in Boulder included the imposing background of the Rocky Mountains. I saw the band later that summer in Tempe, AZ, a show that pulled out all the props and ended up becoming the film “Let's Spend the Night Together.”

Sixteen years passed. I got married, had two children and got divorced before seeing two 1997 shows in Boston and Nashville, which came to be as a reunion of the 1981 U of A crew. Regrettably, Bill Wyman didn’t attend.

Now they’re baaaaaack, and to quote ex-Red Sox Mo Vaughn, “It ain’t about the money.” Mick quickly contradicted Charlie Watts’ assertion that this was the last Stones' tour. Sir Mick suggested such a grand announcement would amount to “a trap” aimed at getting money from fans. There’s no need for that, right? With ticket prices ranging from a paltry $63 to $163 and $453 each, I think they’ve got the money thing covered.

So, I ask myself, “Self, why drop a buck sixty three x 2 when you get satisfaction by seeing Sloan at a club for $10 on June 16th?

You gotta move.

Live it up, Mom

Yesterday Megan, Kyle and I took my mom out for her favorite food: pizza. Yeah, she’s a cheap date. In fact, she’s so cheap she tried to order tap water in Billerica, MA. Not a good idea. I intervened and got her a Dasani. Hey, for all I know, illegal immigrants fill those by hand out of rubber hoses, but the veto made me feel better and was enough to give Mom the opportunity to tell me to watch how I spend my money. “You already got me flowers!” “Mom, it’s Mother’s Day. Have a Dasani.” Yeah, Mom says what’s on her mind. Always. The incredible thing is that if there were no flowers and no pizza, but just a phone call, she would be fine with it. She has been completely selfless in my life and continues that now in the lives of her grandchildren. She puts everyone else first.

I love you Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.

Today Kyle went with his Mom after church, so I had some alone time. I wanted to visit the Institute of Contemporary Art in Boston, but it’s closed for installation through May 17th.

Instead, I headed to the local driving range to hone my incredible array of hooks and slices. After a successful hour consuming a large bucket starting with the pitching wedge and ending with the driver, I went to the gym to offset the other hefty consuming I do.

Lame 7

A game 7 of a playoff series should include intensity as a characteristic. Tonight’s Indiana Pacer rout of the Boston Celtics didn’t have any. It was as heartless a playoff performance as I’ve ever seen by a green team.

Boston Globe Staff Photo by Jim Davis

The Celtics lost because a few undisciplined whiners didn’t allow them to play as a team. They continually forced bad shots off individual moves, while the Pacers moved the ball and got easy ones. It got so bad in the 4th quarter, TV color man, Tommy “Homer” Heinson got in a snit with play by play guy Mike Gorman after Gorman didn’t go along with Tommy’s assertion that Pacer Jermaine O’Neal “went after” Celtic Raef LaFrenz. Gorman then asked “Heinie” what he’d do now with the C’s down 21. Instead of doing his job, Heinson asked, “what would you do?” then remained silent. Just like his team.

Misc.

• Investments in water purification technology and alternative energy in China look very attractive. I’m not sure yet how to get in. Speaking of energy, it sickens me that in spite of one national politician after another pledging to “reduce our dependence on foreign oil,” there’s really been no significant government investment in alternative energy since 1973, when gas prices “shot” up to 50 cents per gallon…

• If they ever do a movie about Queen front man Freddy Mercury, Johnny Depp would be a good choice.

• Thinking about cliches: “Amazingly, Jim did get his hands on the snake…”

• Some of my friends and fellow Red Sox fans have slipped into complacency. This week, one rabid fan suggested he doesn’t have much hope for the team this year, but that was OK because he would continue to bask in the glow of last year. Wait till Fall (or the next Yankee series). He’ll be out of his mind back into it.

• There’s a nice editorial piece in the Boston Globe on the current state of thoroughbred racing on this Kentucky Derby Day. The piece expresses the hope that George Steinbrenner’s Bellamy Road is just that today, and can help ressurect the sport. If not, maybe Bellamy Road can pitch…

• There’s nothing like being a winner on derby day.

• My yard looks like what I image the grounds around Chernobyl look like these days.

Secret Shopper

Years ago, I used to take Megan shopping with me when she looked like this:

Back then, at a local Market Basket, little old ladies would stop me so they could look at her. She was a beautiful and smiling little baby.

Recently I had a flashback to those days when I returned to that old store after several years shopping at Victory and more recently, Shaw’s. As I strolled down one aisle pushing a carriage, Kyle and I passed the diaper section. No, I don’t need them yet, but it brought me back to the many visits buying them for Megan and Kyle, hopefully with a dollar coupon. I don’t need to use coupons any more, but I still do. Mostly I like cutting them out of the paper on Sunday morning. Still, I returned to Market Basket for one simple reason: I was done with the exorbitant prices of the other two places.

After spending roughly $100.00 per week on groceries for what seemed a year, suddenly my bill jumped to between $107 and $110 after Hannaford Brothers bought out Victory. I wrote a letter to complain, but the management didn’t feel the need to respond. Goodbye Victory. I then went to a local Shaw’s, but I quickly sensed there were no bargains to be had there. Of course, my “buyer loyalty” card made it seem like I was saving a bundle, but in reality, I was paying even more than at Victory. To validate my estimation, I commissioned a comprehensive study. Actually, I just pulled out a few old receipts and opened Excel. Here are the shocking results. ABC’s "Primetime Live" was going with this story until that silly Paula Abdul “American Idol” thing surfaced. Whatever.

As you can plainly see, after buying milk and eggs, prices inflate like an airbag in a head on collision at my ex-grocery stores. Against a $100 weekly order, the premiums can add up to between $665 and $1,030 over the course of a year. I could almost afford to go to a Red Sox game for that kind of cake…

The Putt...

"Why am I using a new putter? Because the last one didn't float too well."
Craig Stadler

One thing that is consistent for me, but the Achilles heel to my brother Corey is putting. It saves me strokes and costs him matches. The way he hits the ball, he should beat me often, but 3, 4 and even 5-putts won’t get it done. Back when I was in college, a Jack Nicklaus classic, Golf My Way, provided a putting tip that has benefited me year after year. It’s very simple:

1. “Read” the line from behind the ball.
2. Draw an imaginary line from the ball to the hole while you’re above the ball.
3. Putt the ball to get it started rolling on that imaginary line.


http://www.worldwidegolfinstruction.com

Obviously, the pace of the ball is also key, but that “touch” comes from practice and getting a “feel” for the greens you’re playing. Anyway, thanks Jack.

A good day…

Taking a half-vacation day Friday, the drive to the Tewksbury Country Club was leisurely and traffic-free. It was in the low sixties with a 10 to 15 mph wind when we teed off around 2:00. The inaugural drive of the 2005 season was high, straight and true. A real anomaly. In past seasons I’d be combing the right side woods looking for my wayward slice and maybe scoring another errant ball or two. It felt weird and wonderful walking straight down the fairway on #1. Now for me, the first outing of the season is no more inconsistent than one, say, in July, but this one started well.

After building a commanding lead early, my younger brother, Corey began to chip away. On the 9th and final hole, a water protected, short par 3, I dropped two in the drink and as the second splashed down a foot from dry land, he quipped with a wink, “you can probably play that one.” I began the long walk toward the point where #2 landed. On foot by the water’s edge, I spotted a 2-foot turtle swimming. We marveled at its size and grace. A couple minutes later while looking for my lost orb, I heard, “Hey, that turtle is right behind you.” Well, I jumped and quickly looked behind me to nothing but hearty laughter. This from someone who claims to play a “gentleman’s game.” In the end, the scorecard had me prevailing by one stroke, although Corey insists the match is “under review” with the “tournament committee.”

The 19th hole included a continued discussion of rules and etiquette, a couple cold beverages, lunch and a “blue moon” moment. As baby bro reminded me of the two “man made hazards” he pointed out for me, a lovely woman sat at the bar a couple seats down. Corey kept talking, but my focus had shifted. I heard her say she was there for a wedding and did not have a date. The female bartender suggested, “Maybe you’ll meet someone at the wedding.” I then abruptly added, “or maybe you’ll meet someone right here.” In my past 30 or so “dating years,” I never would have done that for fear of rejection. Actually, it’s amazing I ever had any dates given my timidity at such moments. We chatted for a few minutes and I got her phone number before having to leave to see a rocking Green Day show with my brother, the gentleman. Yep. A good day.