Sheesh, I always hated that game growing up. Along with "Simon Says", these were two games I didn't see a purpose to, even in elementary school.
But I've been playing the mother hen today, and it all started with the furnace. I think Rose put the whammy on me (jokingly) by her furnace going out last week. Last night I came home to a 53 degree house, which told me the furnace wasn't going to make it through March like I had hoped. Of course, who knows when we'll get a thaw this year?
I already let work know last night I wouldn't be in... with Steve leaving for the Phillipines (again) today and with George working nearly sixteen hours in the shop last night, I knew someone had to be here to wait for the furnace repairman.
Strangely enough, I got up right at 6 AM this morning, thinking something was amiss. Something was -- underwater -- the entire kitchen. Poor George decided to do a load of laundry but forgot to stick the drain hose out the window. An entire cycle of water was in the kitchen. Let's just say we went through our whole stack of towels in just five minutes.
Therefore, I was forced to rent the Rug Doctor carpet cleaner, and it's been pretty productive, as I've done all the carpet in the house. But donations for the rental were impossible to come by. I'm not surprised.
Steve then left me a list of six favors for me to do while he's gone, including getting him a tax form, doublechecking his work schedule, emailing his wife about hotel reservations (she wants to go to Thailand on this vacation), prepped me to make another Rent-A-Center payment on Saturday with no help from him... and took my digital camera, which he broke the last time he took it.
I spent nearly $50 on battery parts and a charger to get the camera going again, and I have the feeling the resulting inventory will be less than the inventory I gave him. You just can't trust boneheads with small parts - I keep finding them in his room. But I say it with a slight smile, and a sigh of resignation.
When Steve, Mike and I took this house in 2003, I said I would be the main over-seer around here, since I know how to take care of this house. Boy, does everyone take advantage of the resident "miracle worker" now that they know this!
But I never wanted to be someone who is unliveable with... hence, I carry on...
February 20, 2008
February 18, 2008
Reading, thinking, puzzling
It must pay to advertise on billboards, even if the message makes no sense to the motorist.
We've seen some strange billboards around Detroit over the years. One near downtown Detroit was particularly weird: a picture of a child who seems to be dressed in a shroud, along with this message:
If not for you, then for them: Take back the weather.
Well yes, I'd like to take back this rotten weather, but that's not humanly possible. So what on earth does this billboard stand for?
There's an explanation of it, in fact, on this site. To make a long story short, the message is supposed to be about global warming, disappearance of the ozone, pollutants, and the resulting change of weather patterns (El Nino or La Nina most likely). Obviously, the author of the campaign is warning us to take better care of the Earth for our children, and their children.
I first noticed the billboard about two weeks ago, and it took until now for me to find out what it stood for. That's what's annoying about billboard messages of this type: They make you think, but they also make you confused - which is not the way to be when you're trying to keep up with traffic on the freeway.
One marquee at a church in Taylor also stood out today. But depending on how it's interpreted, it could be sending an anti-church message. How?
Looking for love in all the wrong places, try Jesus.
The message obviously means that ones who want the right love should turn to Jesus. But if you base it on syntax alone, it's saying that Jesus is not the right choice.
And aren't people making the wrong choices daily? All we have to do is look around us.
(Courtesy lewrockwell.com)
We've seen some strange billboards around Detroit over the years. One near downtown Detroit was particularly weird: a picture of a child who seems to be dressed in a shroud, along with this message:
If not for you, then for them: Take back the weather.
Well yes, I'd like to take back this rotten weather, but that's not humanly possible. So what on earth does this billboard stand for?
There's an explanation of it, in fact, on this site. To make a long story short, the message is supposed to be about global warming, disappearance of the ozone, pollutants, and the resulting change of weather patterns (El Nino or La Nina most likely). Obviously, the author of the campaign is warning us to take better care of the Earth for our children, and their children.
I first noticed the billboard about two weeks ago, and it took until now for me to find out what it stood for. That's what's annoying about billboard messages of this type: They make you think, but they also make you confused - which is not the way to be when you're trying to keep up with traffic on the freeway.
One marquee at a church in Taylor also stood out today. But depending on how it's interpreted, it could be sending an anti-church message. How?
Looking for love in all the wrong places, try Jesus.
The message obviously means that ones who want the right love should turn to Jesus. But if you base it on syntax alone, it's saying that Jesus is not the right choice.
And aren't people making the wrong choices daily? All we have to do is look around us.
February 17, 2008
Everyone takes note of the Manoogian Mansion
Here is the link to the latest video I created on YouTube. This details the recent text messaging scandal of Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick. I won't expound on my thoughts here as I let the video do the talking.
I'll also post the link on the left-hand column as time goes on.
So far, responses to my viewpoint are positive, as well they should be. Any supporter of this man, after what he's done to the city, the taxpayers, and his own family would probably be hiding their signs of support after what we've read the past two weeks.
------------------------------------
(LATE NOTE: Add this to my entry of the 14th: Olympic Bar-B-Que in Southgate just closed its doors as well. Olympic was once a one-of-a-kind barbeque restaurant in the area. Proof positive that the chain restaurants are actively alive & well, and still killing off the old mom-and-pop stores I knew as a kid. As my mother would likely have said, "Should we be enjoying quantity or quality?")
I'll also post the link on the left-hand column as time goes on.
So far, responses to my viewpoint are positive, as well they should be. Any supporter of this man, after what he's done to the city, the taxpayers, and his own family would probably be hiding their signs of support after what we've read the past two weeks.
------------------------------------
(LATE NOTE: Add this to my entry of the 14th: Olympic Bar-B-Que in Southgate just closed its doors as well. Olympic was once a one-of-a-kind barbeque restaurant in the area. Proof positive that the chain restaurants are actively alive & well, and still killing off the old mom-and-pop stores I knew as a kid. As my mother would likely have said, "Should we be enjoying quantity or quality?")
February 16, 2008
Minus the shelter and the safety
It's impossible for one to know and understand the plight of the homeless unless they were once homeless themselves.
The misunderstanding has sunk to new lows in places around the country: one report yesterday stated that homeless people are now being attacked & robbed by other people who have more, and are worth more, than the person they are robbing.
If you rob me of my possession while I'm out walking, okay; I've lost those possessions. But I can go home and get more. Take my clothes; Lord knows I've got more in storage. The homeless are already victims, and may be wearing the only possessions to their name. These possessions are their livelihood. These possessions are not throw-aways. But to these thieves, anything can be considered a throw-away item, and don't even think about the person who had it before.
The homeless are the people, I believe, who are respected the least. Misfortune is often not their own blame. The politicians are the biggest ridiculers of them all.
Orders to put the homeless in jail for tresspassing? That makes no sense at all! There's no place to put them, because the politicians are always saying they have no building space. So it appears they cover their own hides by doing a quick-reflex action to save them from their inaction.
I may have mentioned this before, but during Super Bowl week in Detroit a couple years ago, one news article asked, "What about the homeless?" The response was, basically, "We gotta get them out of sight so they don't cast a spell on the Super Bowl festivities."
There's that annoying thinking again: Out of sight, out of mind.
Did they even think about long-term solutions to the homeless plight in Detroit and other urban areas? Or, in our case, did any thoughts of them stop once the Super Bowl train headed out of town?
Among us, there's bound to be misunderstandings about people. Someone may have broken their arm, but I cannot tell them "I know how you feel," because I've never had a broken arm. A child may tell me their big brother stole their favorite toy. I can say I sympathize, but that doesn't make me understand it fully, since I am an only child.
A person has to be in the shoes of the victim to fully understand the victim's plight.
But in the case of the homeless, it doesn't need to start with complete understanding & comprehension. It needs to start with respect, attention, and action. These recent incidents show none of the three.
Shame on these crooks who mistreated those on the street. Their level of thinking is lower than the homeless' thoughts will ever, EVER be.
The misunderstanding has sunk to new lows in places around the country: one report yesterday stated that homeless people are now being attacked & robbed by other people who have more, and are worth more, than the person they are robbing.
If you rob me of my possession while I'm out walking, okay; I've lost those possessions. But I can go home and get more. Take my clothes; Lord knows I've got more in storage. The homeless are already victims, and may be wearing the only possessions to their name. These possessions are their livelihood. These possessions are not throw-aways. But to these thieves, anything can be considered a throw-away item, and don't even think about the person who had it before.
The homeless are the people, I believe, who are respected the least. Misfortune is often not their own blame. The politicians are the biggest ridiculers of them all.
Orders to put the homeless in jail for tresspassing? That makes no sense at all! There's no place to put them, because the politicians are always saying they have no building space. So it appears they cover their own hides by doing a quick-reflex action to save them from their inaction.
I may have mentioned this before, but during Super Bowl week in Detroit a couple years ago, one news article asked, "What about the homeless?" The response was, basically, "We gotta get them out of sight so they don't cast a spell on the Super Bowl festivities."
There's that annoying thinking again: Out of sight, out of mind.
Did they even think about long-term solutions to the homeless plight in Detroit and other urban areas? Or, in our case, did any thoughts of them stop once the Super Bowl train headed out of town?
Among us, there's bound to be misunderstandings about people. Someone may have broken their arm, but I cannot tell them "I know how you feel," because I've never had a broken arm. A child may tell me their big brother stole their favorite toy. I can say I sympathize, but that doesn't make me understand it fully, since I am an only child.
A person has to be in the shoes of the victim to fully understand the victim's plight.
But in the case of the homeless, it doesn't need to start with complete understanding & comprehension. It needs to start with respect, attention, and action. These recent incidents show none of the three.
Shame on these crooks who mistreated those on the street. Their level of thinking is lower than the homeless' thoughts will ever, EVER be.
February 15, 2008
Winter weather hazard: Who are you?
People are getting surprised this winter.
We're in the midst of what can finally be called a "traditional Michigan winter." This is how winter used to be like in the days before I came along, every year. This hasn't been a real cold winter, or a real snowy one, but it's been extreme, and we've been getting one condition or another more consistently than we have in years.
Figures... winter as we once knew it had to wait until the year I drive a cab to unearth itself. I've been witness to traffic conditions I've not driven through since I was in my 20s. So I'm seeing some real interesting things on the roads.
One I've noticed in increasing abundance is the number of vehicles on the road whose license plates are covered with snow. This month, the State Police has beefed up road enforcement. I wonder how many people were pulled over so far for snow-covered license plates.
People brush off their windshields and all their windows; they brush off the headlights & taillights. Why aren't they cleaning off their plates? The plates show that a vehicle is road-worthy. Without it, the vehicle is as good as stolen to the authorities. Visible plates are as important as working headlights & taillights... even more important from a legal sense.
How this can be missed is unexplainable. Though winter's not been "traditional" around here for over ten years, it's not as if we've not had snow throughout. Brushing down a license plate should be common sense.
There's also an increasing number of cars who have metal borders around their plates, which cover up the plates' state of origin. What is especially perplexing is that some of these borders come from the dealer of purchase. My plate is licensed to Michigan, not some off-brand used car dealer.
There are borders sold that will not cover up important state information. Folks, buy those and save yourselves a ticket.
We're in the midst of what can finally be called a "traditional Michigan winter." This is how winter used to be like in the days before I came along, every year. This hasn't been a real cold winter, or a real snowy one, but it's been extreme, and we've been getting one condition or another more consistently than we have in years.
Figures... winter as we once knew it had to wait until the year I drive a cab to unearth itself. I've been witness to traffic conditions I've not driven through since I was in my 20s. So I'm seeing some real interesting things on the roads.
One I've noticed in increasing abundance is the number of vehicles on the road whose license plates are covered with snow. This month, the State Police has beefed up road enforcement. I wonder how many people were pulled over so far for snow-covered license plates.
People brush off their windshields and all their windows; they brush off the headlights & taillights. Why aren't they cleaning off their plates? The plates show that a vehicle is road-worthy. Without it, the vehicle is as good as stolen to the authorities. Visible plates are as important as working headlights & taillights... even more important from a legal sense.
How this can be missed is unexplainable. Though winter's not been "traditional" around here for over ten years, it's not as if we've not had snow throughout. Brushing down a license plate should be common sense.
There's also an increasing number of cars who have metal borders around their plates, which cover up the plates' state of origin. What is especially perplexing is that some of these borders come from the dealer of purchase. My plate is licensed to Michigan, not some off-brand used car dealer.
There are borders sold that will not cover up important state information. Folks, buy those and save yourselves a ticket.
February 14, 2008
The changing times of business
Valentine's greetings, everyone. It's nice for me not to need worry about buying candy & stuff on a day like this.
It's amazing -- and utterly pathetic at the same time -- to see Michigan's economy as it is now. And the ripple effects are now being felt all over the country. With President Bush scared to his wits to mention the "R" word (recession), most of us working-class types have been seeing the signs coming for the greater part of a year.
Recession aside, times may be changing in the business industry anyway, in much the same way the old five & ten stores (witness Neisner, Kresge) were replaced by the conglomorate chains; the way the mom & pop corner stores were replaced by big-boxers.
Just this week, I saw a golf cart distribution facility shutter. Ironically, that cart distributor was located across Michigan Avenue from Inkster Valley Golf Course. Although the Lincoln Park Plaza is slated for demolition, it was still interesting to note that President Tuxedo was closed... and another dollar store was in its place. And the venerable Cardinal Fabric Care drycleaner in Southgate, complete with its 1950s neon sign, finally closed down almost two months ago after they limited their business to second-hand work clothing sales.
What does that say about the needs & tastes of people today? I'm not criticizing how or where we spend our lives and money these days... but it's nothing like my parents witnessed when they were my age.
One of my cab fares this week needed a watch battery. There was only one place (PCP watch repair) that could fix his problem. The passenger told me a specialty store was the only place he could trust to have the battery he needed. "Take it to Meijer's or Wal-Mart," he said, "and first, you'd be lucky to have (a salesperson) pay attention to you." Then, "they wouldn't even know what type of battery you want. I wouldn't trust..." the people at the big box stores.
That is true today, again without criticism. People used to specialize in one area of knowledge; watch repairs were a specialty and would take up an entire store (my dad would remember Southgate's Campbell's Jewelers). PCP was a rare exception; Ehrlich's in Wyandotte is another example. But that's about all we have. There's no choice BUT to take it to a place which sells thousands of other, unrelated items.
Back in the day, we abounded in specialty stores or businesses. If an entrepreneur from those days had an idea for a business, he or she added it to the growing list of variety. If you needed anything that wouldn't be sold commercially at a regular store, those other storefronts would sell the specific items.
Now the whole business climate has been watered down. Odds and ends (such as watch batteries) are relegated to the caverns of a superstore. And your typical salesperson today is trained to know about everything & every department in the store, not just one or two things. It makes the salesperson more productive, but what's lost is the intimacy in knowing that one person can help solve minor, specific problems.
President Tuxedo's closing is not a surprise, either. The chain no longer exists in Michigan. In fact, there were several formal wear places not too long ago. Formal wear is getting harder to find in a specific, formal atmosphere. Would I go to Meijer's for a suit? Would that salesperson even know how to measure me properly? Very doubtful.
The fast-food complex now affects all business. People want one-stop shopping, and what they want, they want fast. It's almost as if quality of the product or service is a dying art -- if it hasn't died already.
---------------------------------------
Anita Rose, from whom I got the inspiration to do this blog in the first place, co-runs a website, deadmalls.com, which profiles dormant, shuttered malls. She would be pleased (?) to know that the old Southtown Crossing shopping mall in Southgate is completely vacant now. Co-Op Optical moved out last month, so nearly 500,000 square feet of mall frontage in a prime intersection now sits unused.
I remember the mall's construction in the mid-1980s. I howled with protest at the demolition of the Michigan Drive-In that anchored the site for almost 50 years. Now the howls of "I told you so" echo. Drive-in's were another specialty service back in the day. Now, if we want a movie, we have to share it with 19 others in a stadium-type venue which is overwhelming to some.
"Keep America Beautiful" didn't only refer to litter in the landscape, I guess.
It's amazing -- and utterly pathetic at the same time -- to see Michigan's economy as it is now. And the ripple effects are now being felt all over the country. With President Bush scared to his wits to mention the "R" word (recession), most of us working-class types have been seeing the signs coming for the greater part of a year.
Recession aside, times may be changing in the business industry anyway, in much the same way the old five & ten stores (witness Neisner, Kresge) were replaced by the conglomorate chains; the way the mom & pop corner stores were replaced by big-boxers.
Just this week, I saw a golf cart distribution facility shutter. Ironically, that cart distributor was located across Michigan Avenue from Inkster Valley Golf Course. Although the Lincoln Park Plaza is slated for demolition, it was still interesting to note that President Tuxedo was closed... and another dollar store was in its place. And the venerable Cardinal Fabric Care drycleaner in Southgate, complete with its 1950s neon sign, finally closed down almost two months ago after they limited their business to second-hand work clothing sales.
What does that say about the needs & tastes of people today? I'm not criticizing how or where we spend our lives and money these days... but it's nothing like my parents witnessed when they were my age.
One of my cab fares this week needed a watch battery. There was only one place (PCP watch repair) that could fix his problem. The passenger told me a specialty store was the only place he could trust to have the battery he needed. "Take it to Meijer's or Wal-Mart," he said, "and first, you'd be lucky to have (a salesperson) pay attention to you." Then, "they wouldn't even know what type of battery you want. I wouldn't trust..." the people at the big box stores.
That is true today, again without criticism. People used to specialize in one area of knowledge; watch repairs were a specialty and would take up an entire store (my dad would remember Southgate's Campbell's Jewelers). PCP was a rare exception; Ehrlich's in Wyandotte is another example. But that's about all we have. There's no choice BUT to take it to a place which sells thousands of other, unrelated items.
Back in the day, we abounded in specialty stores or businesses. If an entrepreneur from those days had an idea for a business, he or she added it to the growing list of variety. If you needed anything that wouldn't be sold commercially at a regular store, those other storefronts would sell the specific items.
Now the whole business climate has been watered down. Odds and ends (such as watch batteries) are relegated to the caverns of a superstore. And your typical salesperson today is trained to know about everything & every department in the store, not just one or two things. It makes the salesperson more productive, but what's lost is the intimacy in knowing that one person can help solve minor, specific problems.
President Tuxedo's closing is not a surprise, either. The chain no longer exists in Michigan. In fact, there were several formal wear places not too long ago. Formal wear is getting harder to find in a specific, formal atmosphere. Would I go to Meijer's for a suit? Would that salesperson even know how to measure me properly? Very doubtful.
The fast-food complex now affects all business. People want one-stop shopping, and what they want, they want fast. It's almost as if quality of the product or service is a dying art -- if it hasn't died already.
---------------------------------------
Anita Rose, from whom I got the inspiration to do this blog in the first place, co-runs a website, deadmalls.com, which profiles dormant, shuttered malls. She would be pleased (?) to know that the old Southtown Crossing shopping mall in Southgate is completely vacant now. Co-Op Optical moved out last month, so nearly 500,000 square feet of mall frontage in a prime intersection now sits unused.
I remember the mall's construction in the mid-1980s. I howled with protest at the demolition of the Michigan Drive-In that anchored the site for almost 50 years. Now the howls of "I told you so" echo. Drive-in's were another specialty service back in the day. Now, if we want a movie, we have to share it with 19 others in a stadium-type venue which is overwhelming to some.
"Keep America Beautiful" didn't only refer to litter in the landscape, I guess.
February 13, 2008
"Cuff 'em and Stuff 'em!"
When Roscoe P. Coltrane from Dukes of Hazzard said this line, we know he would never catch the Duke boys, but we'd be in for a lot of comedy.
The line is said by me, still with a laugh behind it, but a laugh complete with head shake & eye roll.
I only heard snippets on the news station about Roger Clemens' testimony on Capitol Hill today about his alleged HGH usage. The evidence is becoming damning.
Clemens' so-called "best friend", Andy Pettite, said Clemens did talk about using HGH and other steroids. That's more damning than what the ex-Mets clubhouse attendant, as well as Clemens' former personal trainer, have said.
The judge in the case actually may have caught Clemens red-handed as I listened to some of the exchange, which went something like this:
Judge: So you've never used steroids?
Clemens: No, I have not.
Judge: But Andy Pettite said you used steroids... awhile ago you said he was a very honest man.
Clemens: He (Pettite) is a very honest man.
Do you forsee a big "oopsie" on this one? We've heard of selective memory, or even selective hearing. Do we have a definition for selective truth-telling?
Somebody on that stand, like in Detroit's whistle-blower & text-message scandal, has lied under oath, deliberately I may add. In this case, it's hard to say who's wrong.
But Clemens is painting himself into a corner. I think all that jury on Capitol Hill needs is Exhibits A and B: Photos of Clemens in 1997 and in 2004, in-between the alleged use. You could have used the same for Barry Bonds; that fact was indeed mentioned in Bonds' case -- whether or not it was used during his time on the stand is unknown to me.
But wouldn't it be something: the most prolific home run hitter of all time, and the best pitcher of this generation getting nabbed by the law and doing time? And what if all their stats are rubbed out, like they should be if they're proven guilty?
A caller into a sportstalk radio show asked what the kids who look up to them would think. One wore an old Texas college baseball jersey during the '05 All-Star Game in Detroit. Clemens, in a parade, stopped so he could personally autograph the jersey of his old alma mater. What thoughts are going through this person's mind tonight as they hear the news? Will that autograph still bring back pleasant memories tomorrow?
One person complained that baseball is just rehashing the past by putting all this through trial. I believe baseball is not only cleansing itself of its past, but is trying to send a message to the new generation of stars.
It would personally be easy for me now to say that Greg Maddux & Tony Gwynn are the best pitcher and hitter, respectively, of their era. And they never made front-page headlines. Yet experts will still rank them among the best... and rightfully so.
Black eye or not... baseball needs this time now to hammer home a mighty important point.
The line is said by me, still with a laugh behind it, but a laugh complete with head shake & eye roll.
I only heard snippets on the news station about Roger Clemens' testimony on Capitol Hill today about his alleged HGH usage. The evidence is becoming damning.
Clemens' so-called "best friend", Andy Pettite, said Clemens did talk about using HGH and other steroids. That's more damning than what the ex-Mets clubhouse attendant, as well as Clemens' former personal trainer, have said.
The judge in the case actually may have caught Clemens red-handed as I listened to some of the exchange, which went something like this:
Judge: So you've never used steroids?
Clemens: No, I have not.
Judge: But Andy Pettite said you used steroids... awhile ago you said he was a very honest man.
Clemens: He (Pettite) is a very honest man.
Do you forsee a big "oopsie" on this one? We've heard of selective memory, or even selective hearing. Do we have a definition for selective truth-telling?
Somebody on that stand, like in Detroit's whistle-blower & text-message scandal, has lied under oath, deliberately I may add. In this case, it's hard to say who's wrong.
But Clemens is painting himself into a corner. I think all that jury on Capitol Hill needs is Exhibits A and B: Photos of Clemens in 1997 and in 2004, in-between the alleged use. You could have used the same for Barry Bonds; that fact was indeed mentioned in Bonds' case -- whether or not it was used during his time on the stand is unknown to me.
But wouldn't it be something: the most prolific home run hitter of all time, and the best pitcher of this generation getting nabbed by the law and doing time? And what if all their stats are rubbed out, like they should be if they're proven guilty?
A caller into a sportstalk radio show asked what the kids who look up to them would think. One wore an old Texas college baseball jersey during the '05 All-Star Game in Detroit. Clemens, in a parade, stopped so he could personally autograph the jersey of his old alma mater. What thoughts are going through this person's mind tonight as they hear the news? Will that autograph still bring back pleasant memories tomorrow?
One person complained that baseball is just rehashing the past by putting all this through trial. I believe baseball is not only cleansing itself of its past, but is trying to send a message to the new generation of stars.
It would personally be easy for me now to say that Greg Maddux & Tony Gwynn are the best pitcher and hitter, respectively, of their era. And they never made front-page headlines. Yet experts will still rank them among the best... and rightfully so.
Black eye or not... baseball needs this time now to hammer home a mighty important point.
February 12, 2008
Intoxicating solutions
I know that, from a historical standpoint, taxicabs are best known for transporting home the intoxicated. The day shift I work on doesn't feature many of these (unless we discount last Thursday). The night shift is loaded with them, and that constitutes 40% of our business.
What I don't like are the haphazard, out-of-control drunks. They resemble someone on drugs who needs their "fix" three or four times daily.
A prime example occurred tonight. Two guys staggered over to the cab, probably kicked out of the bar they were in because they would no longer serve them. Before they went home, I took them to the party store so they could get:
* Two bottles of Jack Daniels
* Two bottles of Jim Bean
* A twelve-pack of Corona
* Orange Juice
* Six packs of smokes
We had to make two trips around the house they were going to because they said, "(Crap), dad's home..." almost resembling two teenagers afraid of getting found out.
These men were in their 40s at least... and the one had just gotten out of the hospital that morning after having stitches removed following a surgery two days ago. I wonder what it was for... a liver transplant?
At the end of my shift, I passed a sign pole that had an advert: "Drinking problem? Call this number now!" I almost felt like tearing that sign off the post and dumping it on their front lawn.
This isn't to say I won't take home the intoxicated. But this was a case where it was out of control given the circumstances... and if someone doesn't get a number like that to them, and soon... it may be a lot more than the hospital for them.
I wonder what went wrong in their lives that would cause them to be like this. I've never totally understood the depths of desperation, but I'm glad I've not experienced it in that level.
----------------------------------
* That one driver and I are on good terms again; he blamed himself for the problems of last week, saying he got up "on the wrong side of the bed." For three days and 36 hours straight? Interesting...
* Now they have me taking the cab home a couple times per week. For limited household runs, they say it would be okay to use. I'm not too comfortable with the arrangement because it's something completely new. Additional responsibility for another car, for sure. Thank goodness this neighborhood is relatively safe & quiet.
What I don't like are the haphazard, out-of-control drunks. They resemble someone on drugs who needs their "fix" three or four times daily.
A prime example occurred tonight. Two guys staggered over to the cab, probably kicked out of the bar they were in because they would no longer serve them. Before they went home, I took them to the party store so they could get:
* Two bottles of Jack Daniels
* Two bottles of Jim Bean
* A twelve-pack of Corona
* Orange Juice
* Six packs of smokes
We had to make two trips around the house they were going to because they said, "(Crap), dad's home..." almost resembling two teenagers afraid of getting found out.
These men were in their 40s at least... and the one had just gotten out of the hospital that morning after having stitches removed following a surgery two days ago. I wonder what it was for... a liver transplant?
At the end of my shift, I passed a sign pole that had an advert: "Drinking problem? Call this number now!" I almost felt like tearing that sign off the post and dumping it on their front lawn.
This isn't to say I won't take home the intoxicated. But this was a case where it was out of control given the circumstances... and if someone doesn't get a number like that to them, and soon... it may be a lot more than the hospital for them.
I wonder what went wrong in their lives that would cause them to be like this. I've never totally understood the depths of desperation, but I'm glad I've not experienced it in that level.
----------------------------------
* That one driver and I are on good terms again; he blamed himself for the problems of last week, saying he got up "on the wrong side of the bed." For three days and 36 hours straight? Interesting...
* Now they have me taking the cab home a couple times per week. For limited household runs, they say it would be okay to use. I'm not too comfortable with the arrangement because it's something completely new. Additional responsibility for another car, for sure. Thank goodness this neighborhood is relatively safe & quiet.
February 11, 2008
When the job affects the home
Forgive the terse wording of this entry, but my job is beginning to affect the house here in a negative fashion.
Steve owes me a huge money debt right now (like Dad says, as long as he owes me money, I'm never broke), and was threatening to add to it last night by requesting a cab from work to home, with me footing the bill later. He's a bonehead, and I told him I would only do it this once, but hey, if it helps the house, so be it.
I made the call about 8:00 last night and gave Lenny the information. This morning, George tells me Steve never got the cab; that he was refused service. Immediately, I got on the two-way with the owner, who's aware of my Thursday incident with the one cab driver.
His response: "We don't take office charges anymore." Nice of him to tell me! I take them all the time; in fact, James from the night shift still owes me $16 from a Ypsilanti-to-office run I gave him last week.
Though groggy this morning, Steve told me the cab showed up 1/2 hour late (no surprise), and then refused him service because he didn't have cash. Steve said it was a charge, and they refused him service. The driver tried to pin all the blame on Steve, who was stuck in the middle. I made that call at 8:00 and thought no more about it; Lenny said he had all the information down. But the owner said he never got it.
Now this is a case of timing... and I wonder if it coincides with any possible fallout from Thursday night. Steve had to wait at the pickup point another hour for his ride to get him home. And this has nothing to do with the fact that Steve needs his own car, which he does. All you need to do is combine this with my recent incidents, and the way they're jerking George around in the service garage, and you have to wonder if they're abusing a good thing, which is the reliable service George & I provide that company.
If they want bad drivers, they got 'em. If they want bad mechanics, they had 'em. If they want good business... they have to turn their heads on their first two wants. More independent cab dealers have opened up around here the past couple years, so there is competition. If they want it, they have to go for it.
Does the owner have a clue? The jury's out on that, but not out on the fact that these incidents are messing up order in this house. And I will not stand for that, employee or not. I should not have to shoulder all the accountability.
----------------------------------------
Someone, please, give me the guts to call my stepbrother and wish for a way out of this state. If the older readers remember the old Calgon soap commericals on TV, they'll certainly know where I stand.
Steve owes me a huge money debt right now (like Dad says, as long as he owes me money, I'm never broke), and was threatening to add to it last night by requesting a cab from work to home, with me footing the bill later. He's a bonehead, and I told him I would only do it this once, but hey, if it helps the house, so be it.
I made the call about 8:00 last night and gave Lenny the information. This morning, George tells me Steve never got the cab; that he was refused service. Immediately, I got on the two-way with the owner, who's aware of my Thursday incident with the one cab driver.
His response: "We don't take office charges anymore." Nice of him to tell me! I take them all the time; in fact, James from the night shift still owes me $16 from a Ypsilanti-to-office run I gave him last week.
Though groggy this morning, Steve told me the cab showed up 1/2 hour late (no surprise), and then refused him service because he didn't have cash. Steve said it was a charge, and they refused him service. The driver tried to pin all the blame on Steve, who was stuck in the middle. I made that call at 8:00 and thought no more about it; Lenny said he had all the information down. But the owner said he never got it.
Now this is a case of timing... and I wonder if it coincides with any possible fallout from Thursday night. Steve had to wait at the pickup point another hour for his ride to get him home. And this has nothing to do with the fact that Steve needs his own car, which he does. All you need to do is combine this with my recent incidents, and the way they're jerking George around in the service garage, and you have to wonder if they're abusing a good thing, which is the reliable service George & I provide that company.
If they want bad drivers, they got 'em. If they want bad mechanics, they had 'em. If they want good business... they have to turn their heads on their first two wants. More independent cab dealers have opened up around here the past couple years, so there is competition. If they want it, they have to go for it.
Does the owner have a clue? The jury's out on that, but not out on the fact that these incidents are messing up order in this house. And I will not stand for that, employee or not. I should not have to shoulder all the accountability.
----------------------------------------
Someone, please, give me the guts to call my stepbrother and wish for a way out of this state. If the older readers remember the old Calgon soap commericals on TV, they'll certainly know where I stand.
February 10, 2008
There's a new computer slave
Trying to stay busy... allbeit with much confusion this weekend so far. I don't know if it's a recurrence of my scatterbrained mentality, but if it is, it's hitting BIG TIME.
When I get scatterbrained like this, I turn to the computer.
I am actually rivalling Steve in terms of computer use lately. I often wonder how he can stay on the computer for hours on end, but that's what I've done today. I'm calling up programs & projects I haven't touched in months. Thank goodness I didn't delete the city simulator game I put in the computer in 2004. It's been theraputic so far. I also tease Steve that I go further with the cities than he does.
I'm trying to reconstruct the entire Detroit area: not just the city, but the suburbs. Designing it has been a challenge, but I'm patient in areas like this. If Steve doesn't like his city in five minutes, he blows it up. I only blow it up when I make a design flaw. You read yesterday where I possess photographic memory... I also possess perfectionism when it comes to designing things like this.
I also threw a couple new videos onto YouTube for the first time in months... one shows why I don't have kids by putting together a montage showing what's wrong with the world today. Long story short, it would be a sin for me to bring a child into this world and having him or her hurt by what's going on. I save my sanity and the sanity of the unborn by not becoming a father. It's not that I couldn't shelter a child from the problems, but this world should be in better shape for the next generations. I'm not too proud of the way the current generations are taking care of this world. Approval polls do not lie... entirely.
Absent from the "projects from the dead" is the book I began sixteen years ago on the late Coleman Young. I don't want to put it through a fourth rewrite, but it's necessary, given the fact I wrote a screenplay version for it on the computer two years ago and it's different from the book. Added to that the fact I still have factual information screwed up in the text, and finding sources to verify the information are very hard to come by, despite the power of the internet. It's a frustrating surprise.
I also found my bowling CD (when I was trying to find something else I lost) and re-started a tournament I began over a year ago.
Some days, it's best to lose your mind... which is appropriate for me, given today's circumstances!
When I get scatterbrained like this, I turn to the computer.
I am actually rivalling Steve in terms of computer use lately. I often wonder how he can stay on the computer for hours on end, but that's what I've done today. I'm calling up programs & projects I haven't touched in months. Thank goodness I didn't delete the city simulator game I put in the computer in 2004. It's been theraputic so far. I also tease Steve that I go further with the cities than he does.
I'm trying to reconstruct the entire Detroit area: not just the city, but the suburbs. Designing it has been a challenge, but I'm patient in areas like this. If Steve doesn't like his city in five minutes, he blows it up. I only blow it up when I make a design flaw. You read yesterday where I possess photographic memory... I also possess perfectionism when it comes to designing things like this.
I also threw a couple new videos onto YouTube for the first time in months... one shows why I don't have kids by putting together a montage showing what's wrong with the world today. Long story short, it would be a sin for me to bring a child into this world and having him or her hurt by what's going on. I save my sanity and the sanity of the unborn by not becoming a father. It's not that I couldn't shelter a child from the problems, but this world should be in better shape for the next generations. I'm not too proud of the way the current generations are taking care of this world. Approval polls do not lie... entirely.
Absent from the "projects from the dead" is the book I began sixteen years ago on the late Coleman Young. I don't want to put it through a fourth rewrite, but it's necessary, given the fact I wrote a screenplay version for it on the computer two years ago and it's different from the book. Added to that the fact I still have factual information screwed up in the text, and finding sources to verify the information are very hard to come by, despite the power of the internet. It's a frustrating surprise.
I also found my bowling CD (when I was trying to find something else I lost) and re-started a tournament I began over a year ago.
Some days, it's best to lose your mind... which is appropriate for me, given today's circumstances!
February 8, 2008
Look it up by photographic memory
Cousin Rose's furnace broke down last night in the midst of our coldest cold snap of the year. With windchills approaching -25, she was shivering in a house that was fortunately still at 63 degrees, but knowing how sensitive she is to cold, it still made me worry.
My ability to have total recall of certain events (photographic memory, if you will) may have helped her a little when she called yesterday, although the effect is likely minor. She called me to find out when her furnace was installed. For the record, it was installed in the spring of 1988... my grandmother was beginning the onset of Altheimers disease, and my mother wanted grandma to be comfortable. The new electric start furnace replaced an old 25-year old metal hulk that made her gas bills soar. I guess what helped the photographic memory in this case was that I was always at grandma's house when my mother was there during that time.
Rose started her conversation by saying, "You know more about this house than I do." To an outsider, they would scratch their heads: Rose has been there since 1990; I only lived there from 1999-2000. But to an insider like me, I knew what she was going for.
What's the key to the photographic memory for me? Strange to say, it's the photo albums.
My mom maintained the albums for a few years until I showed an interest in putting the photos into new albums. She labelled the old albums quite well and everything was chronologically ordered. What little was out of place was still properly labelled. Just the act of transferring photos served to refresh my memories of who was in the photos and when they were taken.
Additionally, through the first years of what's become a nine-year personal struggle for me, I kept poring over the albums and trying to relive those memories; countless Christmas mornings with the relatives were always photographed in bulk. In a typical year, in fact, the Christmas gatherings and Niagara Falls trips would constitute half of the photos we'd take. It was more a tradition to unearth the camera for those events versus taking photos of the "everyday".
I also used to keep a notebook (since repossessed by the evil uncle) that would list the year of every modification done to our house in Southgate. Out of boredom, I'd re-read those notes instead of pursuing a novel at the library. Then the information would stick without needing to go back to the notebook. The popular music books I collected served much the same purpose when it came to recalling music history.
My ability for total recall has been acknowledged by many family members through the years. I won't brag about this ability, but I gain pleasure in knowing it can help others in big or small ways.
This deep freeze, by the way, is supposed to last most of the week, so I am hoping Rose can get that furnace fixed or replaced with no problem. It couldn't have picked a worse time to conk out.
My ability to have total recall of certain events (photographic memory, if you will) may have helped her a little when she called yesterday, although the effect is likely minor. She called me to find out when her furnace was installed. For the record, it was installed in the spring of 1988... my grandmother was beginning the onset of Altheimers disease, and my mother wanted grandma to be comfortable. The new electric start furnace replaced an old 25-year old metal hulk that made her gas bills soar. I guess what helped the photographic memory in this case was that I was always at grandma's house when my mother was there during that time.
Rose started her conversation by saying, "You know more about this house than I do." To an outsider, they would scratch their heads: Rose has been there since 1990; I only lived there from 1999-2000. But to an insider like me, I knew what she was going for.
What's the key to the photographic memory for me? Strange to say, it's the photo albums.
My mom maintained the albums for a few years until I showed an interest in putting the photos into new albums. She labelled the old albums quite well and everything was chronologically ordered. What little was out of place was still properly labelled. Just the act of transferring photos served to refresh my memories of who was in the photos and when they were taken.
Additionally, through the first years of what's become a nine-year personal struggle for me, I kept poring over the albums and trying to relive those memories; countless Christmas mornings with the relatives were always photographed in bulk. In a typical year, in fact, the Christmas gatherings and Niagara Falls trips would constitute half of the photos we'd take. It was more a tradition to unearth the camera for those events versus taking photos of the "everyday".
I also used to keep a notebook (since repossessed by the evil uncle) that would list the year of every modification done to our house in Southgate. Out of boredom, I'd re-read those notes instead of pursuing a novel at the library. Then the information would stick without needing to go back to the notebook. The popular music books I collected served much the same purpose when it came to recalling music history.
My ability for total recall has been acknowledged by many family members through the years. I won't brag about this ability, but I gain pleasure in knowing it can help others in big or small ways.
This deep freeze, by the way, is supposed to last most of the week, so I am hoping Rose can get that furnace fixed or replaced with no problem. It couldn't have picked a worse time to conk out.
February 7, 2008
TGIF - but not a restaurant plug
Thank goodness tomorrow is Friday, the conclusion of another wacky week at work. (Try saying that five times fast.)
Some of the passengers have been getting increasingly vocal in voicing their displeasure about the state of humankind. I nod most of it off. But I got an example of what they mean today.
Take out the logic meter: I race cross-town to pick up a run standing at a storage facility... he's got three small suitcases with him. It turns out he was standing there waiting for us for over 40 minutes. With the weather, the condition of the cabs and the condition of the drivers (all referenced below), this is becoming the norm. Long story short, he tells me in less than perfect English that he's already called another company, and they're on their way over.
This was one of the rare times on the job where I pulled away, rolled up the window, and literally cursed the guy out for his stupidity. Yes, we were late getting there. But we showed up. In turning us down, he guaranteed himself another 5 to 10 minutes of wait time. Even if the other cab were only 30 seconds late, that 30 seconds could have been spent loading the trunk, boarding, and at least getting onto the street. He would have been further along than he made himself be.
We complain about inconvenience. But here seems to be one who thrives on it.
I didn't write the past couple days because my eyes have been exhausted, as well as my concentration, thanks to the idiot weather. A simple run from Allen Park to Detroit, normally a 20-minute trek, took over an hour. Freeways were only going about 10 MPH, side streets were flooded with the rain, slush & snow, and you'd swear all the drivers were Georgia transplants, not knowing how to drive in the conditions.
Today, we lost two cabs due to accidents; neither of them the drivers' faults -- they were cut off. One, as I jokingly say, "made love" to a parking lot light. This loss of cabs won't help our response time. My lack of recent experience driving full-time in the winter doesn't help either. It's a good thing we aren't an EMT service.
And I have another run I refuse to take, for stupid reasons: I took a $30 run from Inkster to Woodhaven, the girl had to get to work. She's the girlfriend of one of our drivers, and we engaged in good conversation. INNOCENT conversation. But when I picked up the driver, he went on & on about how that was "not cool."
First, a little background: She called him before we got to Woodhaven and told him I was the driver, and how much he would owe. I didn't hear one iota of complaint. I told him he would be driving my cab tonight, according to the schedule. He said "I'm not like other drivers, I don't follow schedules." Sounds like a rulebreaker right there: you drive what you're assigned.
Presented with the facts nearly three hours later, he goes on his tirade. Well, why didn't he end up saying something three hours earlier? He gets mad because I broadcast his distaste for my cab to the dispatcher. The least he can do is drive my cab back to the office and tell the dispatcher he wants to switch. It's his responsibility. Instead, he takes the cab, with already half-bald rear tires, and squeals it in the snow upon leaving. A total blatant lack of respect for the equipment -- never mind me.
And I'm not sure which of the two ticked me off more.
Our company is littered with people who don't want to work. This guy complains about working more than eight hours. I worked thirteen in each of the past two days. And the guy didn't even have yesterday's weather to worry about, as he stayed home, while I stayed, plugging through the conditions.
I don't have one ounce of sympathy for either of these two goof-offs. And they'll find out about it somehow... then we'll see what's really "uncool" about the events of the day.
Some of the passengers have been getting increasingly vocal in voicing their displeasure about the state of humankind. I nod most of it off. But I got an example of what they mean today.
Take out the logic meter: I race cross-town to pick up a run standing at a storage facility... he's got three small suitcases with him. It turns out he was standing there waiting for us for over 40 minutes. With the weather, the condition of the cabs and the condition of the drivers (all referenced below), this is becoming the norm. Long story short, he tells me in less than perfect English that he's already called another company, and they're on their way over.
This was one of the rare times on the job where I pulled away, rolled up the window, and literally cursed the guy out for his stupidity. Yes, we were late getting there. But we showed up. In turning us down, he guaranteed himself another 5 to 10 minutes of wait time. Even if the other cab were only 30 seconds late, that 30 seconds could have been spent loading the trunk, boarding, and at least getting onto the street. He would have been further along than he made himself be.
We complain about inconvenience. But here seems to be one who thrives on it.
I didn't write the past couple days because my eyes have been exhausted, as well as my concentration, thanks to the idiot weather. A simple run from Allen Park to Detroit, normally a 20-minute trek, took over an hour. Freeways were only going about 10 MPH, side streets were flooded with the rain, slush & snow, and you'd swear all the drivers were Georgia transplants, not knowing how to drive in the conditions.
Today, we lost two cabs due to accidents; neither of them the drivers' faults -- they were cut off. One, as I jokingly say, "made love" to a parking lot light. This loss of cabs won't help our response time. My lack of recent experience driving full-time in the winter doesn't help either. It's a good thing we aren't an EMT service.
And I have another run I refuse to take, for stupid reasons: I took a $30 run from Inkster to Woodhaven, the girl had to get to work. She's the girlfriend of one of our drivers, and we engaged in good conversation. INNOCENT conversation. But when I picked up the driver, he went on & on about how that was "not cool."
First, a little background: She called him before we got to Woodhaven and told him I was the driver, and how much he would owe. I didn't hear one iota of complaint. I told him he would be driving my cab tonight, according to the schedule. He said "I'm not like other drivers, I don't follow schedules." Sounds like a rulebreaker right there: you drive what you're assigned.
Presented with the facts nearly three hours later, he goes on his tirade. Well, why didn't he end up saying something three hours earlier? He gets mad because I broadcast his distaste for my cab to the dispatcher. The least he can do is drive my cab back to the office and tell the dispatcher he wants to switch. It's his responsibility. Instead, he takes the cab, with already half-bald rear tires, and squeals it in the snow upon leaving. A total blatant lack of respect for the equipment -- never mind me.
And I'm not sure which of the two ticked me off more.
Our company is littered with people who don't want to work. This guy complains about working more than eight hours. I worked thirteen in each of the past two days. And the guy didn't even have yesterday's weather to worry about, as he stayed home, while I stayed, plugging through the conditions.
I don't have one ounce of sympathy for either of these two goof-offs. And they'll find out about it somehow... then we'll see what's really "uncool" about the events of the day.
February 4, 2008
When President Bush created this list...
The list, of course, is the "jobs Americans do not want", which I referenced last December 18th in this blog entry.
Add to that the poor singled out souls who work for Liberty Tax Assistance. Obviously, these type places do most of their business between now & April 15th, so they will bulk up on the advertising. Included in their outdoor "display" is a person who walks around outside dressed in a Lady Liberty costume, waving at passing cars.
First, I wonder if that person will still be out there in the waning days of March & April. If they get booming business, shouldn't this person be inside? Secondly, as I referenced December 18th, don't we have other ways of advertising business, a.k.a. signs outside the business, placed on a wooden frame?
We're expecting another round of possibly brutal weather to hit the area hard by Wednesday. Will these people have to brave the elements? Consider also that these costumes are sized for a normally-dressed person, not on a person wearing two layers of thermals, two winter coats, three shirts, multiple pants, boots, etc.
There's a time and a place for everything, even if "living person advertising" is an absolute necessity. But please, let's allow the sake of reason to eminate here. Getting paid $8.50 per hour to advertise in Alaskan conditions would hardly be resume-worthy.
I wonder where this position ranked with the President.
Add to that the poor singled out souls who work for Liberty Tax Assistance. Obviously, these type places do most of their business between now & April 15th, so they will bulk up on the advertising. Included in their outdoor "display" is a person who walks around outside dressed in a Lady Liberty costume, waving at passing cars.
First, I wonder if that person will still be out there in the waning days of March & April. If they get booming business, shouldn't this person be inside? Secondly, as I referenced December 18th, don't we have other ways of advertising business, a.k.a. signs outside the business, placed on a wooden frame?
We're expecting another round of possibly brutal weather to hit the area hard by Wednesday. Will these people have to brave the elements? Consider also that these costumes are sized for a normally-dressed person, not on a person wearing two layers of thermals, two winter coats, three shirts, multiple pants, boots, etc.
There's a time and a place for everything, even if "living person advertising" is an absolute necessity. But please, let's allow the sake of reason to eminate here. Getting paid $8.50 per hour to advertise in Alaskan conditions would hardly be resume-worthy.
I wonder where this position ranked with the President.
February 3, 2008
I am my own ghostwriter
Sorry I've not been updating lately... with minor health problems continuing, and the cab business booming, there's not been much time to update.
Yes, I'm still alive (much to a certain girl's anguish, I am sure). And the routine continues... not much new or exciting things have transpired recently.
George & Steve, on the other hand, have had their moments. Steve came within a whisker, twice, of being fired due to a computer error. He's now in the process of filing a grievance with his union.
And George took a job as our mechanic for the cabs, but he's finding out about the painful egos some of our drivers have. Not to mention their sheer lack of driving skill. Brakes won't last long if you keep slamming them, for example. But they can't get the message.
--------------------------------
To help cover the three-week gap between original entries, read below and you will see five of my works from former blogs I've had on the account: "Airwaving It Out", and "Ducks On The Pond".
I've decided to can those blogs and concentrate on this one solely. Before I delete them, I wanted to present them to those who didn't think to click on the links to them. I don't want them to be lost to cyberspace completely.
Thank goodness I've had a backlog of stories to share!
Yes, I'm still alive (much to a certain girl's anguish, I am sure). And the routine continues... not much new or exciting things have transpired recently.
George & Steve, on the other hand, have had their moments. Steve came within a whisker, twice, of being fired due to a computer error. He's now in the process of filing a grievance with his union.
And George took a job as our mechanic for the cabs, but he's finding out about the painful egos some of our drivers have. Not to mention their sheer lack of driving skill. Brakes won't last long if you keep slamming them, for example. But they can't get the message.
--------------------------------
To help cover the three-week gap between original entries, read below and you will see five of my works from former blogs I've had on the account: "Airwaving It Out", and "Ducks On The Pond".
I've decided to can those blogs and concentrate on this one solely. Before I delete them, I wanted to present them to those who didn't think to click on the links to them. I don't want them to be lost to cyberspace completely.
Thank goodness I've had a backlog of stories to share!
February 2, 2008
CLASSIC BLOG: "Too Many Farewell Tours"
From my former "Ducks On The Pond" blog, dated February 15, 2007. How hilarious is it that the same scenario could play itself out THIS spring training?... Enjoy.
With Spring Training starting today with the report of pitchers & catchers, we supposedly are left hanging over whether or not Roger Clemens will return for another season at age 45.
How many retirements or near-retirements has he ended up having since his initial farewell tour with the Yankees? Upon signing with Houston, I remember his elation at pitching near his home, with family much more convienently located. Clemens had a fantastic season in 2005, yet could not make up his mind to play last season until the end of May. Now in 2007, he still doesn't know if he's going to suit up again, mentioning something about "if someone (stubs) a toe, I might have to consider (playing again)."
This simply does not sound like a person that really wants to play. And perhaps he should end his own drama, and the drama of his fans, by simply saying so. There's nothing wrong with leaving the game on your own terms, even if you're at or near the top. Clemens still has an amazing talent, has a frame built for the long haul, and still pumps that fastball to where few can hit it.
But as he nears 340 victories, cements his status as the #2 strikeout king, and with the Astros not showing signs of recovering from last year's fall from grace, is there truly any motivation left in the tank? Perhaps after 24 seasons, it may be ripe time for him to retire and spend the time with the family, including watching a his son, a potential future star, continue to hone his talents.
But why he duped the Yankees in 2003 in saying he'd retire, only to land with Houston, is known only to him. I portrayed him as a person who couldn't make up his mind without dollar signs attached. Each preseason, his doubts about returning grow bigger & bigger.His numbers will never diminish over time. But his personality will also be remembered, as with any good player.
Please, Roger... either you "do" or you "don't" want in for 2007.
With Spring Training starting today with the report of pitchers & catchers, we supposedly are left hanging over whether or not Roger Clemens will return for another season at age 45.
How many retirements or near-retirements has he ended up having since his initial farewell tour with the Yankees? Upon signing with Houston, I remember his elation at pitching near his home, with family much more convienently located. Clemens had a fantastic season in 2005, yet could not make up his mind to play last season until the end of May. Now in 2007, he still doesn't know if he's going to suit up again, mentioning something about "if someone (stubs) a toe, I might have to consider (playing again)."
This simply does not sound like a person that really wants to play. And perhaps he should end his own drama, and the drama of his fans, by simply saying so. There's nothing wrong with leaving the game on your own terms, even if you're at or near the top. Clemens still has an amazing talent, has a frame built for the long haul, and still pumps that fastball to where few can hit it.
But as he nears 340 victories, cements his status as the #2 strikeout king, and with the Astros not showing signs of recovering from last year's fall from grace, is there truly any motivation left in the tank? Perhaps after 24 seasons, it may be ripe time for him to retire and spend the time with the family, including watching a his son, a potential future star, continue to hone his talents.
But why he duped the Yankees in 2003 in saying he'd retire, only to land with Houston, is known only to him. I portrayed him as a person who couldn't make up his mind without dollar signs attached. Each preseason, his doubts about returning grow bigger & bigger.His numbers will never diminish over time. But his personality will also be remembered, as with any good player.
Please, Roger... either you "do" or you "don't" want in for 2007.
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