Addled w LLS - Lovable Losers Syndrome

My forward inertia, weakened by time and poor short-term memory, relents and backward I go, as if some addiction-addled junkie. Someone should really put me out of my misery or at least attempt an intervention.

"Hi, my name's DZ, and...  I'm a Wigan Athletic fan." **sobs openly**

Only while writing this do I realize the expected catharsis of openly stating my problem is instead serving to highlight and magnify it. My problem is... I'm a fan of demi-losers. 

I've somewhat proudly decided to not become one of the scads and kaboodles of dullard bandwagoneers who grab the brightest sports team to follow with blind attraction. Nope. Not me. I take time to consider many variables and settle on what seems right for me. Apparently, I'm a borderline loser, annual fodder for the lower tiers.

In a few short weeks I'm sure I'll be kicking myself for not having bailed on my first Barclays Premier League team selection (the details of which are too pithy to describe here) - Wigan Athletic. Certainly they will have already disappointed me by losing at least two of the first three matches of the season. All of which they should be winning. Those first three are all of the recently promoted clubs from the lower nPower Championship division of the English Football Association. 

You see, in the last 90 days of the previous season, my Wigan languished in the bottom three positions of the Barclays Premier League standings. Those lowest rungs, at the end of the season, are removed from the loftiest of the English Football Association ladder and sent down to what is the equivalent of the AAA in American baseball.  The whole of the club and ownership takes a knock, and generally includes an associated self-loathing by players, fans, towns they represent, everything. 'Relegation' it's called and is a wonderfully maddening and enticing system where the bottom three of 20 clubs go down (including less income, less TV money, less ability to spend on payroll, etc.) and the top three from the next lower division come up (promotion) to test their mettle. 

So as I stated, Wigan had been trod upon enough to be sitting near the foot of the table (standings) for most of the 2nd half of the season. Only by their near-miracle turnaround during May, did they scrape enough wins and draws to rise above and resuscitate their top-flight status.  Before that, in February, realizing the unlikelihood of their task ahead, I had vowed to dump them after the season as they were certainly going down. Good riddance to bad rubbish, and they OF COURSE, on the last week of the season, scratch their way out of the hole and here I am, fresh with optimism, at the dawn of a new season, again drawn back to being their fan.

For the record I would totally support relegation/promotion in our American sports system. No more guaranteed anything, just win baybee. My Kansas City Royals would have been relegated 15 years ago, the Colts of Indy during my college days would have been geldings, and basketball 76ers of Philly would be right about where they are now. Nowhereville. Even blithe Cubs fans, amiably content with mediocrity, really have no idea how ugly it could be.

But forgiveness reigns and the love for my near-losers will soon return and Wigan will be right back in my thoughts again. I'll likely peruse the various online shops for some new Wigan gear. Possibly begin developing a canned speech to recant my previous hardline stance of February. Look for all the positives and optimism that a new season brings and say a little prayer for better times to come.

So here's wishing and hoping for a better season and perhaps the grim reaper of English Football doesn't appear quite so closely next spring. I don't think I can handle another season of near-loserdom.  

Eh, now that I think about it, I said that last year also. 
And the year before that too.

"I am not a role model"

In the wake of recent insinuations and allegations regarding Mr. Tiger Woods and his personal life, the "Where There's Smoke, There's Fire" crew have apparently been proven right.

I've recently recalled the Nike ad of the late 1980s in which 'Sir" Charles Barkley claimed "I am not a role model."  At the time I was a huge Philly 76ers fan (mainly because of my worship of Dr. J) and was both surprised and disappointed by the Sixers star forward's statement, as he seemed a perfect rags-to-riches, blue-collar candidate for hero worship.  It did cause a fair bit of discussion on the sports-related talk circuits as I recall.  Some argued 'yes' they are role models by virtue of their profession and privilege whether they like it or not, and others argued 'no' despite their self-promotion, professional athletes are still mere human beings.  In the end, as I recall, the general public was divided fairly evenly about this topic.

Now the squeekiest of clean athletes in recent times appears keen to apologize publicly for his "personal failings" which appear to be an obscured confession of what the media already appeared to surmise.

I am again surprised and disappointed at Tiger's apparent failings.  It makes me all the more certain now that Sir Charles was right - professional athletes are not role models.  As they are human, they are susceptible to many of the same issues dealt with by the general public and even issues about which the public doesn't have a clue.

It is often hoped by many that these people, who have extraordinary physical and mental talents, will somehow serve as a inspiration to the rest of us who would gladly exchange places with them, especially in regard to bank accounts.  We all seem to need some sort of guideline or example to follow to further our own lives.

To this I now must say, "bullshit".  Our lives belong to, and are the sole responsibility of us and no one else.  It is our own duty to be that example.

We all need to be our own heroes.  
We need to place high value and regard on the things that really matter in life - love, honesty, fairness, empathy.
We need to be the ones who try our best each and every day.

We need to discount the things which so often are promoted as valuable.  When Tiger's ability to hit a golf ball, or Britney's ability to sing and dance, or Robert Downey's ability to portray a fictional character is more highly valued than their ability to be the best father/mother/person they can, something is profoundly wrong.

I appeal to direct your hero worship to those who truly deserve it: those who work hard and with great personal sacrifice to provide for loved ones; those who've accomplished much with few resources; those who get up each day to help or protect others before themselves; those who place the good of the whole before the good of the individual; those who do what they can to make their own worlds better - little by precious little.
These are the true heroes of today and they are people you likely see everyday.

These are the people that deserve your ultimate respect and whom you should emulate.

These are the people who truly make a difference.

These are the people we should strive to be. 

Open Letter to Women: The effect of 'ouch' on the male psyche

Somebody just said it's been over a month since my last post.  

By golly, they're right.  I'll just have to come up with something interesting now won't I?  Hmmm let me seeee...  OK, Current Events will be the category...

I have a friend who is getting a very sensitive operation on his male appendages this week.  I don't find any humor in it whatsoever.  

OK, maybe a little, but I think the more important issue is to communicate with women how important this seemingly innocuous little procedure really is to the males of the species.

Women, if you've ever known a man who you think on occasion may lack the ability to be more sensitive and caring, you have a golden opportunity to lead by example when you find one that is having his Vas Deferens severed and clipped shut.  

Show him some gentle, unrestricted, and loving care that is so crucial to leaving one with a feeling that all will be well.  "But we already care for them in ways they can't seem to imagine."  Yes, we do know this despite rarely recognizing it.  

Believe me, we men know we have it good compared to women when it comes to bodily issues.  Please don't blame us for that.  We had as much to do with that fact as you do with causing the sun to rise every day.  I also believe that regarding our physical beings, we men are wired a bit differently so as to feel that we are powerful and nearly invincible (we hunt, we gather, you know the deal...) meaning we have relatively less regard for care and sympathy than women.  We seem to not desire or request assistance of any sort.

Women, does this sound like any men you know?   Like EVERY man you've ever known perhaps?  Did you think that we learned this in some secret meeting in fourth grade while you were learning about various hormones and cycles?  Not hardly.

BUT, when happenstance produces a time that we are feeling vulnerable (due to some sort of injury, surgery, and pain, real or imagined), we are forced to reckon with the fact that we are rendered vulnerable and frankly, it can frighten us, even if only for a few moments.  It is no more apparent and lucid then, while still at a relatively physically strong, virile, and competent stage, the most sensitive and emblematic region of a male's body becomes a target for scalpels and stitchery.  

It is at times like these that you have a special and unique opportunity to pass along some of your wisdom.  

Be overtly but sincerely kind and caring.  Don't joke about it.  Don't cause it to be worse than it already is because you may not realize how vulnerable we are feeling, just as we can't really understand how difficult childbirth is.  We do get it - pregnancy is a major bodily trauma that lasts for months if not years.  We, as men, do understand, yet we can have no first-hand, direct brain-wired concept either.  A statistically miniscule number of men actually go through the pregnancy sympathy suit training but that seems quite far from what must be the actual truth.

So, for the man who has the vasectomy on his immediate horizon, please understand that I empathize with you.  I offer my sympathy and will endeavor to assist if called upon.  I'm also hoping that there is a minimum of one person, one special female in order of priority ahead of me who will serve as primary caregiver and nurturer-back-to-normal.  Nothing personal, you understand.

I'm hoping (and quite certain) she will be giving you the loving care and sensitive hospitality you will crave.  I share your pain(s) and your vulnerability... from a safe distance.  Sorry, just not wired that way.

>Hiccup<

My computer crashed 4 days ago and I got it back last night.

Pros = I lost nearly no data, I have a newfound respect for being a diligent backer-up, I can resume working, I can again enjoy some leisurely computing moments such as these, and I will not be trying to input some inane status update via my phone.

Cons = I have a newfound fear of this happening again with MUCH worse results, I've lost two days of work that I can't get back, I have to spend some time checking and verifying my backup system to be sure that when the worst happens, my contingencies will actually work.

All in all it could be much worse than what it was, but still a hassle and 4 days of worry about the results of the scanning, testing, and analysis of the hard drive and what the next step would be.

As a result of this little snafu (and oddly I admit), I also seem to feel the need to eat more salad, greens, veggies, etc. and layoff the excess calories no matter how delicious. Perhaps my subconscious is detecting a further reckoning with Karma on a grander scale than just experienced. Warning signs are all too often there, and all too often overlooked. I'd hate for this (relatively) minor incident to be enviable compared to some other near-future event...

Having said that, I've had cause (and time not being on the computer) to reflect on some things and hold the following truths to be self-evident:
> I believe the universe attempts to seek a balance.
> I believe in Karmic retribution.
> I believe that you better get busy livin' or get busy dyin'.
> I believe that what you give is what you get.
> I believe in doing unto to others as you'd have done to you.
> I believe laughter is the best medicine.
> I believe in love.

Sorry if this post appears a bit reflective or maudlin but when events conspire against the normal run of play, it makes you sit up and take notice, even briefly. As I said, the warning signs are all too often around us and all too often ignored. A little proaction doesn't hurt ever does it?

So, if you are reading this right now, you have been warned. Warned that there is a warning sign somewhere you're ignoring. Pick one of them, any one of them, evaluate the possible outcomes and take action to alleviate a bad thing before it happens. It may seem not the right time or possibly inconvenient at that moment, but just an ounce of prevention, people... an ounce of prevention...

End of another summer

For me, summer is not magical anymore. Ironically, I noticed this while watching our kids and friends' kids, with grouped effort and at great energy expense, joyfully make huge waves in their swimming pool. It took me back in time for a few moments...

I can say that during my childhood and even up into my early 20s, my body, mind, and soul appeared to be on that wonderful rhythm which followed the school calendar and late May through late August was 'Magical-Super-Fun-Summer-Time'. In my mind's eye, every day was perfect, filled with sun and warmth and leisure and fun. Make no mistake, I'm glad I at least have those memories and apparently have suppressed any rainy, complaint-filled days of boredom and discomfort there may have been.

Now, a full 20 years off of the school calendar, my body and soul have quite obviously taken leave of that very enjoyable and reliable cycle, my mind disconnected with everything altogether. Our kids have gone back to school as well this week and there was a lithe bit of fun during the first day of school. The few standout snapshots of this day for me were mainly three-fold and goes something like this:

The Prologue - Walking to the schoolyard, anticipation in the air, helping the kids find their teachers, kids and adult friends of ours who are teachers lamenting the start of another year (at which those of us schlubs who work year-round snickered).

Act 1. - A small group of parents (myself included) cheering and clapping for the lines of kids following their teachers into the school on the first day. I saw and meant this as encouragement to the kids and the teachers to help alleviate some of their anxiety for what lies ahead. Good on us.

The Epilogue - Draggy parents with empty coffee mugs slowly dispersing from the playground and back into the more rigid confines of the workaday world.

I enjoyed my childhood or at least I remember enjoying it. I enjoyed school and I enjoyed summer break. I'm happy our kids are experiencing it, but as for me, the first day of school just serves to remind me how much I miss it. I'm also a Leo so me and summer do go hand-in-hand.

At times like these, I feel disconnected from myself and i don't like it. Maybe I should have been a teacher after all...