Why I Hate People

or, a smattering of the crap that goes through my head on a daily basis...

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Mark your calendars now!


I have a conflict. Well, it's not so much a conflict, and an event that supercedes what is typically one of the bigger trainwrecks on my fall calendar.

My friends Sonia and Jason are getting married. And it's on the Saturday of Queen's Homecoming.

That's fine... neither of them went to Queen's, and it's not like any of us even considered for a moment blowing off (what we hope is) a once-in-a-lifetime event for a yearly shindig... but I'm also the type of person who likes to have his cake and eat it too. As such, I have the following proposition:

Move homecoming.

Well, at least for some of us... for anyone that would have liked to go to homecoming, but due to wedding related priorities will not be able to attend, I am proposing October 20-21-22 as the new homecoming. I've checked it out, and there's a home football game that weekend, too.

I plan to burn up what little lieu time I have left after getting back from Cali, and hit up Ritual, followed by morning drinking, football, etc. Basically, regular homecoming without the lines, and (ideally) without the extra security.

I fail to see the downside here.....

PS: Stay tuned for more "have my cake and eat it too" solutions, when I attempt to devise how I'm going to get to Oktoberfest again this year without my mum disowning me for blowing off Thanksgiving two years in a row.... :)

c/o TMQ

Gregg Easterbrook has a facination with insane foods, and most of the time, the more heart-attack inducing, the better....this is the forum in which I learned about Carl's Jr. Anyway, this week's example:
Wacky Food of the Week: Reader Lysa Whitt points out this delight served at Mulligan's, an Atlanta tavern: "A hot dog wrapped by a beef patty that's deep fried, covered with chili, cheese and onions and served on a hoagie bun, topped with a fried egg and two fistfuls of fries." The tavern also offers a double cheeseburger served between two Krispy Kreme donuts. Apparently, Mulligans does not want its patrons to survive for return visits.

Is it wrong that I'm a little hungry now?

Yes?

Okay... just making sure.............

Social observation? Or weird coincidence?


So I'm at Vaughan Mills yesterday checking out the ridiculously (in a good way) priced running shoes at the Nike Outlet (thanks to Steve at work for giving me the heads up). I've had my current runners since the fall of second year... yes, that's almost 6 years old now... the were well worn out, and my joints were screaming for a new pair of shoes, but that's neither here nor there....

My point is (was?) a funny phenomenon I noticed. Now, if you've ever been to Vaughan Mills, you know that there are all kinds of chairs in various places, just kinda smack dab in the middle of the main walkway. Some are even pointed at TVs, which is kinda cool.... but that's not what struck me. What got me was that the vast majority (I hesitate to say "all", but it wouldn't be far off) of the seats were occupied by very bored (and slightly whipped) looking men.

I don't get this. Why do men feel compelled to hate shopping? I'm not going to pretend that I love it all the time, but when I'm in the mood for it, it's great! Maybe it's the Scottish blood that loves getting a deal, or maybe it's the closet Metro in me that's trying to get out and enjoys buying cool new clothes..... but really, as long as I actually have something to buy, I really seem to quite enjoy shopping.

However, I seem to be in a minority among those of us with a Y chromosome.

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

What, me worry?

Earlier this morning as I was walking out of the plotting room, this happened...

Julian: What's wrong? What are you worred about?
Me: Huh? What?
Julian: You look all stiff, I thought you were stressed or worried about something....
Dave: Iain? Worried? HA! I don't think I've ever seen that...

Monday, August 28, 2006

Hot AND Talented!


I'll admit it. Last night, I went to see Shakira at the ACC.

And you know what? It was a GREAT show!

Yes, there was all the appropriate behind shaking that left me slack-jawed, but I was also impressed by the overall professionalism of the show. It really was great. She played all the songs I wanted to hear, and not in the over-rehearsed exactly-like-it-sounds-on-the-CD way, either.

I will have to say that who I went with also helped a lot, too. Jenna is an honest-to-gawd fan of hers, whereas DC and Naing aren't exactly shy about how they behave in public, so with a few beers beforehand, and we had four people ready to party!

My only semi-negative observation is that we seemed to be in a section that was filled with "sit down" people. Now, I can appreciate that you can't stand the whole time, and that there are a lot of concerts that you don't stand unless you have to... but it just seemed like we were some of the few in our section that were particularly stoked to be there. And even we tried to sneak out and grab another beer during one of the slow Spanish songs we didn't know....

I don't know if that last sentence made any sense, but I think it's high time I stop typing before I go off on any weird tangents.

Word.

Cuz sometimes you're just that hungry

I don't even know where to begin. But this is just hilarious.

Friday, August 25, 2006

A couple of points that came up while watching Willow over a few beers and birthday cake


It being my buddy Andrew's birthday and all, we blew off the typical post-practice pint at the pub (try saying THAT ten times fast!) and headed back to his place for a couple of beers and some cake... or "caak", as he was saying it. I agreed, based almost entirely on his assurance that he was referring to "gâteau" and not "man love".... cuz while he's an alright looking guy, and all.....

Okay, moving on....

So we agreed that we liked Willow better than LOTR because they "kept it real" by using real midgets... none of this high tech bullshit making normal sized people look small.

Also, it was determined that midgets shouldn't be allowed to ride full-sized horses. Midgets should be relegated to donkeys and ponies at all times.

Yes, we're both going to hell... but at least we'll have company, right?

This may come as a giant shock to you...


...but I have been weaning myself off coffee. Or at least I have been attempting to.

It wasn't that long ago that I was honestly up to 5+ cups of coffee a day. It was getting out of control. I was getting jittery by about cup number 3 of the morning, and positively wired by late afternoon's 5th cup.

Oh, and while I've never been one to sleep much, or particularly soundly, at the best of times, it was getting out of hand....

This actually went on for months.

Then not long ago, after the fateful "Rrrrroll up the rrrrrrrrim to win" campaign at Timmy's (which was an unmitigated disaster for
myself and others), I decided that I was going to cut back to just one cup a day. Granted, it was an extra large, but the point was: it was just one. I have since reigned myself in to the more human (humane, even?) large... and starting Monday, I'm attempting to downgrade again to medium. This might bring back the requirement for an afternoon cup, but I'll cross that bridge when I get to it.

Hold the phone....... While looking for the pic you see at the side, I stumbled across
this article.

Maybe I shouldn't be doing this. Maybe I should actually be stepping my coffee drinking back up....

It is unclear whether it is the caffeine or some other ingredient in coffee that provides the protection, said study co-author Dr. Arthur Klatsky of the Kaiser Permanente Division of Research in Oakland, Calif.

Of course, there is a better way to avoid alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver, Klatsky said.

"The way to avoid getting ill is not to drink a lot of coffee, but to cut down on the drinking" of alcohol, he said.


Oh... Well, now I'm just confused.

There are no words...

A little horror story from the Piper and Drummer website:

8/19/2006
World's travel chaos remembered
Unhappy memories of the Canberra Burns Club Pipe Band's 2004 trip to Scotland

Piper & Drummer reader Brian Doyle, writes:

I just read the Piper & Drummer story about Simon Fraser University Pipe Band's instruments missing on their way back to Vancouver this year. Well, it has now happened to another band and that is no surprise to myself or the Canberra Burns Club Pipe Band that I am with here in Australia.

In 2004 we had 94 members and family from the Canberra Burns Club Pipe Band travelling to the World pipe band championships in Glasgow. Band members and family flew out of Canberra, Australia, on Tuesday, August 3, 2004, on a domestic flight to Melbourne to connect with a British Airways flight to London and than a domestic flight up to Glasgow.

On a fuel-stop at Singapore for one-hour passengers were allowed to disembark and have a look around the Singapore airport. When all the passengers had boarded the aircraft for the next part of there journey to London problems started to appear. The air-conditioning on the aircraft would not work until we took off, which meant that after the plane doors were shut the passengers would be sitting in an oven with no breeze in temperatures well above 44 degrees.

To make things worse there were a dozen other aircraft taking off ahead of the flight that the pipe band was on, so that meant waiting on the taxiway for about 30 to 40 minutes. This was not pleasant at all.

Finally the Canberra Burns Club Pipe Band had arrived in London Heathrow at about 6 a.m. on Wednesday, August 4, after flying for 26 hours from Canberra via Melbourne to London.

On arrival in London the 96 members had to make their way to BA domestic terminal for the flights to Glasgow. With the group being so large, we were split into three groups to get us on to three different flights. The first 34 members were on the 8:30 a.m. flight, the next group was on the 9:30 a.m. flight and the last group was on the 11 a.m. flight, all flying to Glasgow. As the group of 94 members started to arrive at the domestic terminal at Heathrow they could all see something was truly wrong: lots of people, but no planes moving.

Most flights were cancelled except the 8:30 a.m. flight. Leaving 30 minutes late, the first group of 34 band members got away.

By 9:30 the unthinkable had happened. All original BA domestic flights were cancelled and everybody would have to line up with thousands more people to re-book their flights. The tour group leader of the pipe band (myself) lined up for an hour and, finally getting to talk to the BA staff, was promised that the remaining 60 of the group would be on the 12:30 p.m. flight out.

By 11:45 a.m. that flight was cancelled and the story went on until 5:00 p.m. that afternoon. By then, the 60 band members were told that they would not be travelling at all that day and had to stay in the airport lounge until morning to see if they could get the 60 band members out the next day. They were then also told that it could take two days to leave. All this was caused by storms a few days before the band had arrived at Heathrow, and BA had sad it was a natural disaster to cover themselves.

Here were the 60 Canberra Burns Club Pipe Band stuck in London: no baggage, no one by now had slept for at 42 hours, since it takes so long to fly from Australia to Britain. We were told to sleep on the floor of Terminal 1 at Heathrow. By about 8 p.m. after 14 hours at the airport they said to BA that they would have to find a Hotel or something so the members found a hotel in central London, with no help at all from BA.

By the next morning the band's plight had hit the headlines in the papers in Scotland and England. Also, the first group that got to Glasgow the day the band had arrived was without luggage. By 4 p.m. on Thursday, August 5, all of the rest of the group had arrived at Glasgow Airport, but also without luggage.

It took nearly two weeks for all of the members of the Canberra band and families to receive their instruments and luggage. The Grade 2 and Grade 4 bands missed out on playing in two competitions before the World's and practice because of no Instruments and the last of the luggage and instruments arrived three days before the World's.

pd

And here I am worried about a flight to Cali....

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Things I'd Like To See


I found out this morning that starting this week, Usher Raymond (whom you likely know better by only his first name) started a six-week run on Broadway playing the roll of Billy Flynn in Chicago.

It's interesting to note that Usher is apparently the youngest ever person to portray Flynn (you might remember Richard Gere doing an admirable job of it in the the movie rendition).

I think he'll do one hell of a job, cuz really, any guy that can make the leap from a "star" to a "superstar" based on an album in which he confessesses to his long time love that he knocked up a groupie has to have the type of natural charisma needed to pull of this roll.

Positively Shitting Myself


No, not because of any spicy foods or stomach ailment.... but because of what I have to do one week from today.

For anyone not aware (and apparently there are more of you that I thought - sorry) I'm going to Pleasanton, CA (which is a suburb of San Francisco) for a major pipe band contest, and we leave next Thursday.

Now, I'm sure you've all heard about the near-attack on the US with terrorists and their homemade bombs, and such. That was a week before the World Pipe Band Championships in Glasgow. With much apprehension, many pipers and drummers were forced to check their instruments, with disastrous results. As I'm sure you might know if you've ever seen how I cradle my pipes like a child, I'm rather attached to the particular reverberations from these sticks of African blackwood. I'm pretty typical of any piper. Now, while everything eventually turned up, that doesn't mean I'm overly enthused with the idea of checking my babies.

Without a word of a lie, I'd rather have them strapped to my person (which would likely get my in more trouble, as the X-ray would make it look more like a bomb I have under my clothes - but whatever), or take them apart and carefully wrap them up in a normal backpack than allow them to be thrown around by baggage handlers.

I don't even know what I'm going to do. I don't want to think about it.

Maybe if I just hide under this big pile of jackets until it all blows over............

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Was I That Drunk?

Okay, I'll admit I was watching the Teen Choice Awards on Sunday night.

Why, you ask? Who cares. It was a chance to gawk at all kinds of hot stars and starlettes. Bite me.

Now, as I'm sure most of you have heard by now, Keven Federline chose this show to premiere his new single. Well, at the time I didn't think it was all that bad....



At a second viewing, I'm pretty sure I was just loaded. That MC pretty much saved his bacon, although you have to admit, those little kids dancing were pretty cool.

I think I bought it the first time around because it really isn't that bad a beat... he just can't rap his way out of a paper bag.......

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Corollas are small


My rental car is miniature. Now, people have told me that they think my car is enormous... but in retrospect, many were Toyota Corolla owners.

I'm not suggesting that Corolla can't work for some people, but you can't be my size. Just not going to work. The mirrors are at some weird angle just so that I can sorta see things, the steering wheel is in my lap (and yes, it's as high as it'll go), the seat all the way back doesn't allow me to come close to having my legs at a comfortable angle, and to top it all off, the headrest doesn't actually go high enough to be considered "safe".

On the plus side, I got the $15/day insurance which allows me to write the thing off for under a hundred bucks....


Yes, that's the only good thing about it. I promise.

Ignatieff is a Turd


I was reading the paper this morning (The National Post... in case you were wondering if I was a glutton for punishment), and I couldn't help but see that my local MP and all-around fuckhead Michael Ignatieff has been shooting off his dumb mouth again.

Doesn't anyone fact check for these windbags anymore? Or is this douchebag too full of himself to require one?

His point is that there should be a tax "on gasoline with high carbon content", in other words, gas without Ethanol in it. I hate to break the news to ol' Mikey, but ALL REGULAR UNLEADED GAS is going to have Ethanol in it. Trust me. I'm the one putting the tanks back into service in Toronto. My company is doing it all across the country.

Yes, I accept that the higher octane gas isn't going to have Ethanol in it, but that stuff burns cleaner, anyway (or at least I think it does....?), and it's way more expensive anyway. Thus, generally people only buy it becuase their cars require it, not because they're just trying to be dickheads or anything... it's not like they're avoiding carbon emission-reducing Ethanol... the gas companies just aren't implementing Ethanol blending for higher grade gasoline.

You hear me Mike, you shithead? You are honestly going to be punishing people because multi-billion dollar corporations can't possibly be expected to change all grades of gas to Ethanol blending within the (already somewhat unreasonable) time frame allowed.

I'm glad I didn't vote for you. You turd.

How I missed Prison Break


For those of you who may be semi-long term readers of this space, you likely remember how annoyingly often I used to talk about Prison Break. It really is one of the best written shows on TV (which, granted, sounds more like a "smartest Spice Girl" kind of comment) despite its sometimes mediocre-to-bad acting.

All that said, I missed all but the last 5-10 minutes of the show last night. Granted, for those who saw it, that was a pretty major plot development I managed to catch, but still. You might be left wondering "why did he miss it?"

Well, turns out when you have barely drawn a sober breath in days, you forget little details. I spoke to my grandpa on Saturday and Sunday nights, but I had been drinking all afternoon at both points, so my attention to detail was debatable. I agreed to head out to my aunt and uncle's place in Burlington to dig a trench for my grandpa, who was doing a little deck-type thing near their pool while they were away SCUBA diving this week. So, I took my computer-sitting, white-hard-hat-wearing, pussy-ass-piper hands, grabbed a pick and a shovel, and proceeded to get an honest-to-God blister on my right hand.

And that's how I missed Prison Break.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Maybe I should hurt my back, too..?


Golf can be a humbling sport. But sometimes only in retrospect.

I had thought that DC, Tony (Dave's boss) and myself had played a pretty decent Best Ball round yesterday. Granted, Dave left after 12 holes (he had tickets to Spamalot) and I left after 15 (band practice), but we were only a few shots over par, including a pretty decent 43 on the front 9, which even included a trainwreck of a 7 on the 9th hole.

Then I happen to speak to Greg this morning. Now, Greg has hurt his back really badly, and if you've ever played golf (or even if you're just mildly observant) you know that your back is kinda important. He happens to drop that he shot 79-77 back-to-back last Thursday.

I think I just suck at golf....

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Deflect the Blame

Sometimes it takes an innocent question to completely throw you.

Not long after getting in to work this morning, the local detachment of the Fashion Police (a.k.a. Dahlia, the office manager) questioned me...

Dahlia: So, out of white t-shirts?
Me: Huh?
Dahlia: Under the golf shirt... you have a red t-shirt. What gives?
Me: Oh, that... it's cuz the hat I'm wearing to golf in this afternoon [a snazzy Abercrombie visor, btw..] is beige and red.
Dahlia: Let me see your pants [not nearly as odd when you know I was sitting down up until this point in the conversation.. or should I say "inquisition"... and so I stand up to show her my beige pants] Oh, okay...

Then I realize how much fucking thought, no matter how subconscious, I actually put into this outfit. And it scared me. In fact, even using the word "outfit" scares me.

I clearly hung out with Patty too much last weekend...


That's me excuse, and I'm sticking to it!

Newspapers = Waste of Trees


So I finally got around to taking my car in to get an estimate this morning. While waiting in the reception area, I had the priviledge of picking up a newspaper for the first time in a while.

Holy shit.

Granted, it was The Star, but still. About the only things I found remotely interesting was some sports news and an interesting flashback while reading about pontential Inco suitors. I have to say it was kinda cool to read about companies that I had dealt with in my previous employment, like Teck Cominco and Phelps-Dodge, but other than that, it was just boring, poorly written drivel. Now I remember why I stopped reading newspapers. Or maybe I should just get back to reading one of the good ones. Alas, while well written, the Globe and Mail is so transparent in their political views that it's almost painful. The National Post used to be good, but somewhere along the way they got crappy, too. I've heard they're better again, so maybe I'll give them another try.

Anything has to be better than watching the news on TV. That's just depressing. But that's a rant for another time...

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Announcers are all stupid

I honestly just heard Darrin Fletcher, an announcer I uesd to think wasn't totally moronic, just about bust a fuckin' nut over this highlight B.J. Upton pulled off...



Now, granted, that's pretty cool... but part of Fletcher's point was that the Devil Rays were questioning Upton's defensive abilities, and so were keeping him in AAA so that he could learn to not be a liability. Do you not notice that, while impressive, this highlight is mostly due to the fact that Upton FELL DOWN?!?!?

Am I the only person who notices these things??

Fuck me....

A New Entry...

...on this list of "Signs It Might Be Time To Dial It Down A Notch":

Upon Justin's arrival this afternoon....

Me: In the intrest of hospitality, I feel compelled to ask if I can offer you a beer...?
Justin: Nope. Not at all. [starts hurriedly putting shoes back on]
Me: Thank gawd...

Of course, maybe they don't?


I don't know how I could keep a straight face if I was a cop...

This shit is just too funny.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006

Kind of a non-post, really...


Let's just say that there is a small chance I deserve to be dead because of the events of this weekend.

If not dead, then at least in some kind of detox facility.

I'm really glad more people I know don't get married on consecutive weekends, or anything. In fact, I'm kind of worried at how little time I have before Jason and Sonia tie the knot.

How you say? It's not for another month? Well, I don't exactly have time to fully recover... in fact, I spent most of today catching up on the fact that I was a useless sack of shit for the duration of my (admittedly abbreviated) time at work on Monday. People even commented to me today about how awful I looked yesterday. Good times!

Well, I've got this weekend, which might go either way, seeing as I have no band practice.... but you can easily figure out how that could lead to me getting myself into something stupid. The weekend after that, I go to see Shakira, then I'll be in California for a week (Thursday to Thursday surrounding the Labour Day weekend), returning the day before Neil's cottage party, and then the following weekend is Jay and Sonia's wedding.

So you see how this is slowly spiralling out of control?

For those of you following along the progression of weekends there, you might note that Jay and Sonia are getting married on a weekend that is traditionally quite a disaster unto itself. I do have a plan... but we'll just leave this as a tease until I get some more details sorted. Let's just say that shorter lines and less security (read: less chance of me making a public incident) aren't exactly bad reasons to make alternate plans.

PS: If you aren't up on your first ladies, that's Betty Ford. And if you don't get the reference, well... fuck it. I'm not explaining it to you. No, not even you, Maira. Ask someone else why it's appropriate.

Monday, August 14, 2006

In the midst of genius!

From: Iain Gomme
Sent: August 14, 2006 2:31 PM
To: Justin Campbell; Wenzler, Melissa; Patrick Hodgson
Subject: Ugh

Remind me next time I try to "just stave off the hangover until tomorrow" that I'll wish I was dead once "tomorrow" becomes today.


From: Wenzler, Melissa
Sent: Monday, August 14, 2006 2:39 PM
To: Iain Gomme; Justin Campbell; Patrick Hodgson
Subject: RE: Ugh

I tried the "look really good when you feel like crap" strategy for today. I figured if I looked super-work-awesome that people would be distracted by that and not notice that I couldn't understand english today. It seems to have worked. The lucky few who I've let in on my trickery were very impressed and have decided to adopt it next time they're not all there.

Friday, August 11, 2006

Step we gaily on we go...

...heel for heel and toe for toe
Arm and arm and row on row all for [Lindsay]’s Wedding


Well, here we are. Less than 24 hours until the first of us falls.

Tomorrow will be the first wedding from our floor in Vic Hall. It will also mark the first in a series of momentous piss-ups that will result from these weddings (there was a pact sometime around 2nd year when we all agreed that we had to have open bars). Fortunately, due to the wide range of seriousness (or lack thereof) in many of our relationships, these will likely be spread out over a number of years....


I've been to a few weddings already, of both high school and university friends, and all were special, but somehow since we spent so much friggin' time together, what with everyone having lived with at least one of the others since leaving Vic (and some for all of their time in Kingston), as well just about every Thursday-Ritual-Friday-Saturday...... Sunday, Monday, Tuesday..... Wednesday.......... well, you get the picture. We went out a lot, too. But not just the night before. It was mandatory for all involved (and especially those who were not) to join everyone for breakfast, too.

Now, I know this is far from a unique experience in Kingston. I'm not pretending it is. But I do think that having 13 people who were randomly thrown together (okay, not exactly, but let's not split hairs here) and who hung out that much through school, but are almost all still pretty tight over three years after graduation is, in fact, a big deal.

Should be good times.

I hope I survive.....

Why My Job Is Hilarious

Things heard this afternoon:

Steve (grabbing at Maira's lunch): Oh, sorry... that was a big piece of chicken.
Maira: You just touched my food with your hand! Take it!
Steve: Don't worry... I just went to the bathroom.
Maira: [astonished]
Steve: NO! I mean I just washed them!!

Maira: Did anyone see who won "So You Think You Can Dance?" last night?
Steve (looks at the contestants, noting that there are both guys and girls): Guys dancing? Why would you want to watch guys dance? What's the point of guys dancing?!?
Me: Picking up girls.

Maira (licks a piece of her chicken): Here, you want a piece?
Me: Um, no.
Maira (licks it twice more): What about now?
Me: That honestly wasn't supposed to make me want it more, was it? (grabs another piece when she's not looking)

Thursday, August 10, 2006

Women's Golf: Suddenly Interesting


As I sat there nursing my pint last Thursday, dying because there was nothing on TV whatsoever other than the Women's British Open, I just about did a "spit take" all over the bar when I caught a glimpse of this....

Well, let me just say: "Humanah, humanah, humanah..."

Who the hell his THIS?!?

Turns out it's Paula Creamer, and she has shed her typical pink outfit for this saucy little ensemble.

Now, don't get me wrong. I was digging the pink 'n white... but really. Wow.

Must be the socks.

Yeah, the socks.......

I WIN I WIN I WIN!!!!


For those of you who have been following the on-going saga with my downstairs neighbours, this will be music to your ears... if not, well... who cares. Just read the links and catch up... ass.

So as I'm getting in last night from a long and leisurely dinner with Jenna, Paul and Paddington, I run into one of my neighbours who lives below (but not directly below) the assholes in question. He tells me that apparently my little family of headaches are MOVING OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

His wife apparently saw the bitch that lives below me yelling with our landlord on the front lawn.

Now who's in the right, and who's just making trouble? Who's the asshole, and who's the reasonable person being fucked with?!?

Who wins?

Yeah, you guessed it.

Me.

Ha. :)

Wednesday, August 09, 2006

Official Return


It's commonly thought that you can re-join the piping scene, but until you play at Maxville, you're not really back.

Last weekend I played in Grade 1 at Maxville (a.k.a. the North American Pipe Band Championships) for the first time since 2001

In the words of George Costanza: "I'm back, baby!"

And while, I'm absolutely ecstatic about that, I couldn't help but notice how some of my one-time contemporaries were doing. Without naming names (or linking to results and thus implying names), various people that I regularly competed against in the amateur grades back in high school won and placed fifth in the Canadian Gold Medal for Piobaireachd (the classical music of the bagpipe), won, placed second and placed fourth in the associated March, Strathspey & Reel contest, and then one of them even placed third in the Former Winners MSR. Not to mention that one of the above pipers is the Pipe Sergent of the reigning North American Champions, another plays with the reigning World Champions, and still one more guy I played against in an ivitational contest in 1998 is the Pipe Major of another Grade 1 band.


Small world, I guess, but still. That was quite a generation that I moved up through the ranks with. I can't help but think that we spurred each other to greater heights, and I look forward to renewing acquaintances with them on the field for years to come.

I'll get by with a little help from my friends


Sometimes you're not totally sure how you feel. Sometimes, you're been getting run down, and you don't even notice. Then you start convincing yourself that this is normal.

That was me about two weeks ago. I was convincing myself that I didn't mind working on the weekend, for the sake of the project. That dragging my ass around was a part of life. That I needed to just suck it up, pick up my end of the log and get going.

Well, that was until Steph came to TO last week, and then I got to see Pat and Melissa this weekend in Ottawa. Now, I hadn't seen Steph since about April, and I'm almost embarassed to say how long it has been since I've seen Pat or Melis (New Year's? really??), but seeing them really woke me up. I remembered why I'm not a workaholic, and why I love my friends so much.

Now, if you've seen me recently, don't take this the wrong way, it's just that sometimes you need to shock the system to jolt you back to reality.

And so, as I returned to work on Tuesday (had to spend all day at site, again, which is nicer than having to face the office your first say back), I was able to take a step back. The fact that only two of us have been able to carry on this seven-figure project and keep it on schedule and underbudget is wonderful, and all, and yes, I guess it does kinda pump up the ol' ego to be able to see all this work going on and kind of be able to take credit for it all, but in the end, what does it really matter?

I take my job seriously, and I try to do it well (generally succeeding in that endeavour), but it does not affect my overall happiness, nor should it.

Monday, August 07, 2006

News Without Reporters

Here's an email I got from a guy in the pipe band, who is also a Major with the Canadian Armed Forces... it might look long, but it's certainly worth a read, imho....

One of my contacts in the artillery circulated the attached e-mail from one of our troops deployed overseas. If you've ever wondered what I and my buddies do for a living, here's one of the best articles I've read.
I don't know exactly who the officer is, but I think he mentions having about six years experience, so I would put him at about 28 y/o.

Cheers,
Doug

BATTLE OF PANJAWAI AND BEYOND

Hey everybody! First off I apologize for the length of this email, as it contains two weeks worth of Afghanistan fun. I am doing well and brutally honest I have enjoyed this last couple of weeks. Seven years of training culminating in 14 action packed days. At first I wasn’t going to write a lot of detail about what happened, because some people might find it upsetting. However, when I got back to Kandahar Air Field (KAF) and read the deplorable media coverage that the largest operation Canadians have been involved in since Korea, I really felt I had to write it all down, to give you all (and hopefully everyone you talk to back in Canada) an appreciation for what we are really doing here in this “state of armed conflict” (lawyers say we can’t use the word “war”, I don’t know what the difference is except for it being far more politically correct.)

We received word while down at our Forward Operating Base (FOB) that we were going to be part of a full out three day (HA HA) Battle Group operation. This was going to be the largest operation Canada had undertaken since the Korean War. When we arrived back in KAF for orders we found out that we were rolling for Pashmul in the Panjawai District of Kandahar province. That was hard for my crew to hear, as that was the same town where Nichola had died and where Bombadier Chris Gauthier (a signaler in the party before I arrived) had been injured in an ambush. Participating in this attack were A, B and C Company (Coy.) Groups, both troops of artillery from A Battery, an Engineer squadron, two Companies of Afghan National Army (plus all of their attached American Embedded Training Teams – ETT), as well as a huge lineup of American and British Fixed and Rotary wing aircraft. Additionally, we had elements of the 2/87 US Infantry and 3 Para from the UK conducting blocks to prevent the enemy from escaping. From an Artillery perspective beyond the two gun troops (each equipped with 2 x155mm Howitzers and 4 x 81mm mortars) we had three Forward Observation Officers (FOO) and their parties as well as the Battery Commander and his party going in on the attack.

On the night of the 7th around 2200 hrs local C Company Group (with yours truly attached as their FOO) rolled for Pashmul. As we arrived closer to the objective area we saw the women and children pouring out of the town… not a good sign. We pushed on and about 3 km from our intended Line of Departure to start the operation we were ambushed by Taliban fighters. At around 0030hrs I had my head out of the turret crew commanding my LAV with my night vision monocular on. Two RPG rounds thundered into the ground about 75m from my LAV. For about half a second I stared at them and thought, “huh, so that’s what an RPG looks like.” The sound of AK 7.62mm fire cracking all around the convoy snapped me back to reality and I quickly got down in the turret and we immediately began scanning for the enemy. They were on both sides of us adding to the “fog of war”. We eventually figured out where all of our friendlies were, and where to begin engaging. We let off about 20 rounds of Frangible 25mm from our cannon at guys about a 100m away before we got a major jam in our link ejection chute. We went to our 7.62 coax machine gun, and fired one round before it too jammed!! Boy was I pissed off. I went to jump up on the pintol mounted machine gun, but as I stuck my head out of the LAV I realized the bad guys were still shooting at us and that the Canadian Engineers were firing High Explosive Incendiary 25mm rounds from their cannon right over our front deck. I quickly popped back down realizing that was probably one of the stupider ideas I have ever had in my life J Eventually after much cursing and beating the crap out of the link ejection chute with any blunt instrument we could find in the turret, we were back in the game. The first Troops in Contact (TIC) lasted about two hours. The radio nets were busier than I had ever heard before and we realized that A and B Coys. as well as Reconnaissance Platoon had all been hit simultaneously, showing a degree of coordination not seen before in Afghanistan. The feeling amongst the Company was that was probably it, as the enemy usually just conducted hit and run attacks. Boy, were we wrong! We continued to roll towards our Line of Departure and not five minutes later as we rolled around a corner, I saw B Coy. on our left flank get hit with a volley of about 20 RPGs all bursting in the air over the LAVs. It was an unreal scene to describe. There was no doubt now that we were in a big fight.

We pushed into the town following the Company Commander behind the lead Platoon. This was not LAV friendly country. The entire area was covered in Grape fields, which due to the way they grow them are not passable to LAVs, and acres of Marijuana fields which due to irrigation caused the LAVs to get stuck. The streets were lined with mud compounds and mud walls just barely wide enough to get our cars through. After traveling about 300m our lead platoon came under attack from a grape drying hut in the middle of what can only be described as an urban built up area. The Company Commander then issued a quick set of frag orders and I was about to participate in my first ever Company attack. He signaled for me to dismount and follow him. It was an uncomfortable feeling dismounting from the turret, as the only way out is through the top of the turret. I was standing probably 15 feet high in the air with friendly and hostile rounds snapping and cracking in the air everywhere. Needless to say I got down quick. I went to the back of my LAV and banged on the door to signal we were dismounting. As the Master Bombardier opened the door he went pale as we were only 20m from where they had previously been ambushed and where Nich had died. Regardless, we soldiered on. We grabbed our radios and followed the Company Commander. We went into a compound that was actually the same one Howie Nelson had dropped a 1,000lb bomb on after the attack in May. We went up to a second story ledge on a mud wall, and the Company Commander pointed out a compound and said “can you hit that?” I lased the building and found out it was only 89m away. Back in Canada we never bring Artillery in much closer than a 1000m, so you can imagine what I was thinking. I sat down and did the math (those of you who know my mathematical skills are probably cringing right now!). I looked at him and said that in theory and mathematically we would be okay where we were, but I made him move one of the other Platoons back 150m. A funny story as I was doing the math, an American ETT Captain working with the ANA looked down at me and said “There are no ANA forward of us” I responded “Roger”, to which he said “good” fired three rounds and said “Got him”. I then realized that he had asked me a question and had not stated a fact (for some reason everyone seems to think that the FOO magically knows where all the friendlies are). Through all the gunfire I had missed the infliction in his voice. I looked at him and said, “Hey, I have no idea where your ANA are, you’re supposed to look after them!” Luckily it wasn’t a friendly he had shot at.

We started the Fire Mission with the first round landing about 350m from my position. The noise of Artillery whistling that close and exploding was almost deafening, the FOO course sure hadn’t prepared me for this! Master Bombardier and I debated the correction for a second and eventually agreed upon a Drop 200m, mostly because we needed to get rounds on that compound ASAP as we were taking heavy fire. The round came in and landed a bit left of the compound. We lased the impact and found out it was 105m from us. We gave a small correction and went into Fire For Effect with 50% Ground Burst and 50% Air Burst. The rounds came in 85m from us, right on the compound. Truly I did not appreciate the sheer frightening and awe-inspiring nature of proximity (the air burst rounds). I then had the worst moment of my military career as one of the Sections began shouting “Check Fire, Check Fire!” on the net, followed quickly by their Platoon Commander saying they had casualties and to prepare for a 9 Line (air medical evacuation request). It turned out the two events were unrelated but for a while I thought I had injured or even worse killed a Canadian. In actuality the Section that called Check Firing was actually the furthest of anyone in the Company from the shells and had panicked (which led to a lot of ribbing and jokes from their buddies afterwards who had all been closer). The 9 Line was for an ANA soldier who had been struck 5 minutes before. However unfortunate, I was definitely relieved to here all that.

Day one carried on with several more small skirmishes and me moving from compound to compound to set up Observation Posts (OPs), from which I could support the Company’s movement. I never thought that in my career I would literally be kicking in doors and leading a three man stack, clearing room after room to get to my OPs.

We ended the day, which had seen us in contact for 12 straight hours, by sleeping beside our vehicle in full battle rattle for about an hour with sand fleas biting us. They are the single most ignorant and annoying bug ever. The next morning started off with what seemed like a benign task. We were to clear the grape fields to the south of our objective area. Intelligence said there was nobody there and this would only take us a couple of hours. About an hour into the clearing operation we came under contact from a heavily fortified compound. Unfortunately we had a young fellow killed early in the engagement when the infantry tried to storm the compound. They met fierce resistance, far greater than expected. (I didn’t know the young soldier personally, but do recall thinking how fearless he was a week earlier when I saw him running around the Brit compound with a Portuguese flag right after England had lost in the World Cup. I was impressed by his peers and friends and how professionally they carried on after his death.) After the attempted storming of the compound, the Company Commander came to me and said “right, we tried that the old fashioned way, now I want you to level that compound.” As I was coming up with a plan for how I would do this, we had a call sign I had never heard before check in. It was Mobway 51. Ends up he was a Predator Unmanned Aerial Vehicle armed with a hellfire missile. I don’t know how he knew we needed help or what frequency we were using, and frankly I don’t care, he was a blessing. When the Company Commander asked me what the safety distance for a hellfire was I literally had to go to the reference manual I carry (J Fires Manual) because I had never seen one before and had no idea what it actually could do. I told him the safety distance was 100m. To which he asked how far we were from the compound – the laser said 82m. We debated the ballistic strength of the mud wall beside us and in the end he decided to risk it. Nothing like seeing an entire Company in the fetal position pressed up against a mud wall! The hellfire came in and it was the loudest thing I have ever heard. Three distinct noises: the missile firing, it coming over our heads and the boom. For about 30 seconds we couldn’t see anything but a cloud of dust. Then when the dust settled the Platoons started hooting and hollering. The compound barely even looked the same. (At this point our embedded journalist Christie Blanchford from the Globe and Mail had enough and left us, can’t blame her I guess.) The Company again tried to clear the compound but still met resistance. So we lobbed in 18 artillery shells 82m from us (even closer than the day before) and then brought in two Apache Attack Helicopters. On the second rocket attack (I actually have video of this) the pilot hit the target with his first rocket and the second one went long and landed just on the other side of the mud wall from us. It engulfed us in rocket exhaust, but thankfully no one was hurt. When the hellfire had gone off it had started a small building in the compound on fire and suddenly we started getting secondary explosions off of a weapons cache that was in it. Everything started exploding around us, and the two guys that had not listened to me to press up against the wall got hit with shrapnel, both in the legs. One was the Company Commander’s Signaler, a crazy Newf, who was cracking jokes even with shrapnel in his leg. The medic dealt with him and I went over to the American ETT Captain who was only a few feet from me and began doing first aid on him. He looked liked he was going into shock, until his American Sergeant came up behind me and said “Shit Sir, that’s barely worth wearing a Purple Heart for!” I was surprised how much first aid I actually remembered, and the only difficult part was trying to cut off his pant leg because American combats are designed not to tear, making them particularly difficult to cut! In the end we took the compound and captured a high level Taliban leader who was found by the infantry hiding in a sewage culvert, begging for the shelling to stop. As well, we found a major weapons cache, which the engineers took great delight in blowing up. Unfortunately the assault had cost us one killed, two wounded, a Section commander had blown his knee throwing a grenade and four guys had gone down to extreme heat exhaustion. We found out though that this was a Taliban and Al Qaeda hot bed and that they had been reinforced by Chechen and Tajik fighters (which I guess means we really got a chance to take on Al Qaeda and not just the Taliban).

Day three was uneventful for C Coy. and we prepared to go back to our FOB. Which would have been good because I had come down with a cold… not what I needed in combat (umm, I mean state of armed conflict!) Unfortunately that was not to be. A British Company from 3 Para had been isolated and surrounded by Taliban in the Helmand Province in the Sangin District Center. They were running out of food and were down to boiling river water. They had tried to air drop supplies but they ended up landing in a Taliban stronghold (thank you air force). C Coy. was tasked to conduct an immediate emergency resupply with our LAVs. We headed off to what can only be described as the Wild West. The Company (B Coy) of the Paras that was holding the District Center had lost four soldiers there and was being attacked 3 to 5 times a day. We rolled in there after a long and painful road move across the desert. When we arrived in Sangin the locals began throwing rocks and anything they could at us, this was not a friendly place. We pushed into the District Center, and during the last few hundred meters we began receiving mortar fire. They never taught me on my LAV Crew Commander course how to command a vehicle with all the hatches closed using periscopes in an urban environment. I truly did it by sense of touch, meaning as we hit the wall to the left I would tell the driver to turn a little right!! We resupplied the Brits and unfortunately it turned dark and we couldn’t get out of there, so we had to spend the night. We were attacked with small arms RPGs and mortars three times that night, I still can’t believe that the Brits have spent over a month living there under those conditions. They are a proud unit and they were grateful but embarrassed that we had to come save the day. And as good Canadians we didn’t let them hear the end of being rescued by a bunch of colonials!!

We left Sangin again thinking we were headed home. We made it about 40km before we were called back to reinforce the District Center and help secure a helicopter landing site. As we sat there we received orders that we were now cut to the control of 3 Para for their upcoming operation north of Sangin. This was turning out to be the longest three day operation ever!!! Enroute we were engaged by an 82mm mortar from across a valley. I engaged them with our artillery, it felt a lot more like shooting in Shilo as they were 2.8km away as opposed to the 100m or less my previous engagements had been. We went round for round with them in what Rob, the Troop Commander firing the guns for us, called an indirect fire duel. In the end he said the score was Andrew 1 Taliban O and there is no worry of that mortar ever firing again. We rode all through the night (with my LAV on a flat tire) and arrived right as the Paras Air Assaulted onto the objective with Chinook helicopters. There were helicopters everywhere. It was a hot landing zone and they took intense fire until we arrived with LAVs, and the enemy ran away. It was a different operation as we were used to a lot more intimate support tanks to shoot the Paras in. It was impressive to watch them though, they are unbelievable soldiers.

We left the operation about 25 hours later (still3 going on no sleep) and thought that for sure we were now done this “three day op”. But as we were withdrawing to secure the landing zone for the Brits (under fire from 107mm rockets and 82mm mortars) we received Frag orders to conduct a sensitive sight exploitation where the Division had just dropped two 1000lbs bombs. Good old C Coy. leading the charge again!

We drove to the sight and saw nothing but women and children fleeing the town. I thought, “here we go again.” Luckily this time I found a good position for observation with my LAV and did not have to go in on the attack. The Company quickly came under attack from what was later estimated as 100+ fighters. For about 15 minutes we lost communications with the Company Commander and a whole Section of infantry as they were basically overrun. The Section had last been seen going into a ditch that was subsequently hit with a volley of about 15 RPGs; I thought we had lost them all. I had Brit Apaches check in and they did an absolutely brilliant job at repelling the enemy. The only problem was I couldn’t understand a word the pilot was saying because of his accent! Luckily I had the Brit Liaison Officer riding in the back of my LAV. I ended up using him (a Major) as a very highly paid interpreter to help me out. After about an hour long fight the Company broke contact (but lived up to the nickname the soldiers had given us, “Contact C”) and we leveled several compounds with artillery. Somehow we escaped without a scratch, truly amazing.

We were again ordered back to the Sangin District Center with 3 Para and spent the next few days fighting with the Paras. For four days I did not get a chance to take off my Frag vest, helmet or change my socks, etc. We were attacked 2-3 times a day, and always repelled them decisively. I also discovered during this period that exchanging rations with the Brits is a really bad idea. Not only were they stuck in this miserable place but their food was absolutely horrible!

After saying our good byes to our Brit comrades (the enemy learnt their lesson and finally stopped attacking the place), we again prepared to go back home. Alas, it was not to be again. We were ordered South to take back to towns that the Taliban had just taken. Luckily this time after 11 straight days in contact, C Coy. was the Battle Group reserve. We headed to the British Provincial Reconstruction team (PRT). We rolled into the town to the strangest arrival yet. This was coalition country. The locals (unlike Kandahar and even more so in Sangin) were excited and happy to see us. We had kids offering us candy and water instead of begging. There were no Burkhas. The women were in colorful gowns with their faces exposed. The town was booming with shops everywhere and industry flourishing. We went to the PRT and it didn’t even seem real. I took off my helmet, Flak vest and I had a shower and changed my clothes for the first time in two weeks. I ate a huge fresh meal (until my stomach hurt), and then went and sat on the edge of a water fountain in garden and watched a beach volleyball game between the Brits and Estonians. I laughed as I had supper and watched the BBC (British Broadcasting Company) which was reporting that we had taken back the towns, but H Hour was still 2 hours away, so much for the element of surprise. After what we had been through it was hard to believe this place was in the same country. I slept that night (still on the ground beside my LAV because they did not have enough rooms) better than I think I have before in my life. The next couple of days were quiet for us as they did not need to commit us as the reserve. On day 14 of our 3 day op we conducted the 10 hour road move back to KAF, literally limping back as our cars were so beat up (mine was in the best shape in the entire Company and we had a broken differential … again).

Things look like they will be quieter for us now, and I will be home soon. Sad news from the home front, our little Yorkie, Howitzer, was in an accident the other day and didn’t make it. It won’t be the same going home without him, he truly was one of our kids (furkids!). We had three great years with him though and my only regret is that I wasn’t there to comfort Julianne who has been through so much lately. But she has some great friends there who have looked after her. To those of you who have been with her through this and the events of the last few months, I am forever indebted to you.

There are more stories I could tell of these last two weeks but this email has become long enough as it is and if I did that I would have no war stories (I mean state of armed conflict stories) to tell you when I get home. I will end by saying that I have truly enjoyed this experience. Combat is the ultimate test of an officer, and on several occasions I did things that I didn’t know I was capable of. I am so proud of my crew and the entire Company Group, we soldiered hard and long and showed the enemy that messing with Canadians is a really bad idea. We accomplished something in the last two weeks that Canadian soldiers have not done since Korea. The Afghan Government, elected by the Afghans, requested our assistance and we were able to help. We were the equal, if not superior of our allies in everything we did. I hope that I gave you all an appreciation of what these young brave men and women are doing over here, and even if the media can’t find the time or effort to report what we are doing and the difference we are making, hopefully you can pass it on. I will see all of you real soon. I hope all is well with all of you, and please keep the emails coming, I read every one and enjoy hearing from you, even if I cannot respond individually.

Take Care

Andrew

Thursday, August 03, 2006

Somebody get this girl a sammich!


I know this has been going on for a while, but holy crap. Something needs to be done.

I'm willing to lead the team that will drive down to Hollywood, kidnap Kate Bosworth, hold her down, and force feed her Krispy Kremes for a week.

It has gotten out of control. What happened to the gorgeous specimen from Blue Crush?!? Tell me! I can't even show you some of the recent pics of her, as I don't want to scare any small children, but you can see them here if you're just kinda sick and twisted. I had been holding off judgement until I saw her on (a repeat of) Letterman this week, and then I just couldn't hold it in any longer. It was only a couple of moths ago that the guy on Tyler Durden said: "you didn't go to high school with anyone that looks like Kate Bosworth. She's pretty like an angel. An angel with a kick ass rack and slutty taste in dresses." But alas, that Kate is no more.....

Something needs to be done. Petition? A march on Washington? Anything...

Just bring her back.

It's been a while...


...but this afternoon, I'm going on a pipe band bus trip.

Good times are bound to ensue, after all:

Bus + Booze + Fun People = Good Times, always...

We're actually meeting at the usual post-practice pub for lunch before we get on the bus. That can only lead to good things, right?

Last night, Gary (another piper who stands beside me in the circle) said this to me in the pub: "Iain, I want you to go home, go to bed, get a good night's sleep, go to work tomorrow, and show up here by 5pm ready to drink."

It's worth noting that Gary has two university-aged daughters and still acts like this. I'm a little impressed. In fact, one of them is in the band... which led to this exchange with a friend of mine in another band:

Graham: Hey... who's that cute little dummer?
Me: That's Meghan...
Graham: Man. So.......
Me (cutting him off): ...and her dad stands beside me in the circle.
Graham: Oh.

Unfortunately, the Maxville games always conflict with Caribana, so I'm going to miss it again... as I have for about 15 years running. Meh... while I've heard it's a great time, I might stand out a bit, you know?

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

Some Love for Big Mac


I'm not sure what triggered it, but it seems baseball pundits are getting all bent out of shape this week over the possibility of Mark McGwire being inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame.

Why? I'm not totally sure.

Okay, well, if you read some opinions from the NY Times, Chicago Sun-Times, or even ESPN.com you might get an idea of where they're coming from... but the comparisons they're making are ludicrous.

Barry Bonds? Not really. McGwire retired long before the BALCO investigation, or any semblance of a testing system in MLB. In short, for as much as I defend Bonds for not having broken any rules, McGwire retired before there were any allegations whatsoever. He was universally loved, as he seemed like a good guy. Okay, so the dude likely consumed enough Creatine and HGH to make anyone be able to crush homers like it was going out of style, but the fact remains, he still holds the MLB rookie record with 49 homeruns, so it's not like he even made the ridiculous jump Bonds did.

Dave Kingman? I'm not even going to give this the respect of tearing it apart.

People need to calm the fuck down. The guy hit a boatlod of homers, ending with 583, or something, and he didn't break any rules. As far as we can tell, the pitchers were into all the performance enhancing drugs, too, to recover quicker. So everyone was "cheating", as reporters like to call it nowadays.

The other big issue is that if he does get inducted, he'll go in alongside Cal Ripken, Jr. and Tony Gwynn. Two "good guys" if ever there were. Gwynn? I'll buy he was clean (although I contend that this should even be on our radar as some kind of "requirement"). However, if Ripken didn't take any performance enhancers to set the consecutive games played streak, I'll eat my fucking shoe. The guy played shortstop, and if anything hurt his team by never taking a day off to recover. His stats regularly plummeted at teh end of the season, cuz the dude was wiped. He caught (and passed) a guy that played first base. That's the next best thing to being a DH. It's where they put old sluggers who can't run anymore, or big young guys who can't field worht a shit.

But I digress....

They're saying that having McGwire there will create a media circus, as he has "gone into hiding", or whatever. Anything I've read about him indicates that he's a quiet, private guy, who likely looked forward to retiring into obscurity. Writers are implying that he's hiding from the media, and while that's possible, it's not likely the whole story.

















Bottom Line: The dude hit a shitload of homeruns, and along with another alleged "doper", Sammy Sosa, saved baseball in 1998 with their fabled homerun chase, both eclipsing Roger Maris' single-season record of 61 (Mac with 70, Sammy with 66), and pretty much saving MLB fan interest in the process. He didn't break any rules. He should be in the HOF.

No quetions asked.

For Example:

One item in particular...
Great Physician Dies: In May, Lee Jong-wook died at the age of 61. He passed away a few hours after suffering a stroke, then undergoing emergency surgery that failed to remove a blood clot from his brain. Who was Lee Jong-wook? One of the world's leading physicians -- an expert on tuberculosis pathology and, on the day of his death, director general of the World Health Organization. Where did he die? At Geneva University Hospital in Switzerland, one of top health care institutions of any nation. So the head of the World Health Organization died young after receiving the best possible care. Memento mori: in Latin, "Remember that you too will die." The knock on your life's door could come at any hour. If it comes today, will your heart be ready?
Just not your average football column...

One for the Football Geeks

In case you hadn't noticed (and I hadn't... Amr pointed this out to me), Tuesday Morning Quarterback is back on ESPN.com's Page 2.

This column is without question the most intelligent football column out there, and is also responsible for most of the odd links I send around to people from August to January, as the author has wide-ranging interests, and is nearing Stephen Colbert in right-wing dogma.

His bio:
In addition to writing Tuesday Morning Quarterback, Gregg Easterbrook is the author of "The Progress Paradox: How Life Gets Better While People Feel Worse," and other books. He is also a contributing editor for The New Republic, The Atlantic Monthly and The Washington Monthly, and a visiting fellow at the Brookings Institution.
You don't see many football columnists who are this bright. Nice change of pace to have someone who actually knows how to write get the chance to write about sports.

Oh, and he also has a weekly item of "Cheerleader of the Week" for the "traditional male, and non-traditional female readers." He periodically runs "Cheerhunk of the Week", too, if that would interest you more.

PS: This is also the column that is responsible for my overuse of the seguay "in other news". Warrants mentioning.

How to tell when your friends think you're a trainwreck:

An email is sent (to serveral people, not just me!) regarding the only rules at Lindsay's wedding in a week and a half (copied and pasted, verbatim):
See you in 10 Days!

Reminder:
1. No stealing shit
2. No breaking shit
3. No helmets!

Hahahaha

Cheers
Lindsay


We're special. :)

Tuesday, August 01, 2006

Public Service?

To perpetuate the unhealthy love of Vegas, and such, The Sports Guy is being lazy and re-running all his Vegas-specific (i.e.: nothing to do with sports) articles while he is playing in the WSOP, which is on right now in... you guessed it..... Vegas.

Here is the latest one, from his running diary from... 5 years ago?!? Holy crap. I remember reading it when it was first published in 3rd year.

Shit. I'm old.

But anyway, if you like this, or the previous ones, just click on the link on the sidebar. That'll take you to him. Despite his name, he writes more pop culture, movies and gambling stuff than sports, really...